#i almost just fucked you anyway right then & there for even saying it

[cathnospam]

When Bakugo is mad at you he pouts and stares.

Bakugo is kind of a brat, now that you think about it.

He never admits his anger he just waits for you to point it out. But unluckily for him you don’t and he always is the one to falter first.

You’re fresh out the shower and he’s laying on your bed just watching you. Angrily, Same little face he did when you smiled at him going in the shower.

His arms were crossed now though.

“I feel so much better now.” You speak your thoughts out loud as you toss your dirty clothes in the hamper, “felt icky all day.”

Bakugo doesn’t say anything, just looks at your figure facing the tall mirror, you notice, also noticing he was upset, and though you love him, his lack of communications skills can be a pain in the ass because you know once you ask him “What’s wrong” he’ll be bratty and say nothing.

So you instead decide to tease him, why not? You were kinda horny today anyway.

You take off your bun and scarf and let your braids fall down your back, while also dropping the robe that was loosely draped over your body anyway down to your ankles. In an instant you see Bakugo shift in his seat to try to look away.

“It’s so colddddd.” You fake burr while tip toe’ing to the thermometer, “Freezing in here.”

“Maybe because your tits are out.”

Finally. He speaks.

“I thought you liked my tits? You did last week, see. Still have the hockey for it.”

“Shut up.”

Smirking, you lightly prance your way over to him, he noticed the bed dipping under your weight and that damn intoxicating scent of your body wash bearing his nose, Bakugo knew if he turned he’d be face to face with you.

“Look at me.”

Only his eyes gracing your with a second glance he stays still for a moment until you take his chin and force him to.

“Put some damn clothes on.”

“Make me.”

Bakugo didn’t wanna accept defeat, his pride wouldn’t let him. No matter how sexy you look to him right now, how good you smell, or even how badly he wants to stuff his face between your thighs.

He’s still mad at you.

“Why are you mad at me? Did I do something?”

“‘M not mad.”

“Liar.” You bark back quickly, his graze went down to your chest, when you realize you adjust yourself on his lap, your bare damp cunt taking its place on his semi hard dick already through his sweats, “What happened?”

Your breath fanned his lips, Bakugo felt his will breaking, his determination to stay angry at you, but got damn you and those big doe eyes you have with such need and curiosity.

Those same eyes he wants tearing up under him again, “…..You…you didn’t notice.”

“Notice what?” You started to look and search over his face and body, no new haircut or anything.

“…I got the highest score on the final exam and you didn’t even congratulate me….”

Blinking at him he starts to grumble and shuffle in his seat, relaxing his arms to land on your hips his cheeks begin to flush.

You typically do praise him with every accomplishment he has whether big or small, but you didn’t mention it once today after you both left the lecture to check your scores. He don’t know why it made him so upset but it did.

And that was just so fucking cute to you.

“Oh baby…..” You practically whine out to kiss all over his face, “I’m so sorry baby c’mere.”

Your voice had some teasing undertone to it, but Bakugo didn’t care to point it out feeling on your naked body grind and press against him, he closes his lips with yours, almost greedily sucking your bottom lip and licking your own tongue in your mouth he holds you closer, lower growling, still annoyed feeling in his chest, but it begins to get ignored when your fingers traced against it.

“Can i make it up to you?”

He pulls away not saying anything, but watching you adjust your body between his legs, you pat his thigh to lift his hips, dick springing up embarrassingly to slap against his lower body with prickles of pre cum, your eyes practically glowing at the sight.

“Wait.” Bakugo uses the last bit of sanity he had to cup your cheek, “Turn around.”

“Baby….” Already knowing what he was implying he wanted to do you begin to get flushed, “That position is embarrassing.”

“Not to me.” Shaking his head he already begins to pull up your body to adjust yourself on top of him, nothing, but your pussy and asshole right in his face, “There we fucking go. Shit—- You just drooled on my lip Y/N-“

“‘Suki!” You whine, “You better watch your fingers too this time—aah!”

Shutting you up he latches onto your dangling little clit, aching for a suckle, you felt his hands spread your ass out further for more access, ignoring how slutty he must look right now you take as much of him as you could.

69 is typically Bakugo’s go to, he loves be smothered by you completely, the way you shake your ass in his face when he begins to tease you with the tip of his tongue only doing figure 8 shapes on your clit, when you moan on his dick when you’re close, the way he just sometimes gets away with licking your ass too, he was a freak, and he doesn’t care how embarrassed you might be because at the end of the day he really loves all of you.

Even if he gets mad at you sometimes.

[shidoglazer]

h-hatesex with enemy!rin please..? 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 please gang please

otherwise

rin itoshi smut being paired with him during a group project

enemy!rin hate sex mdni ＠shidoglazer

you expected him to reach at 6 p.m. anyways, considering how he didn’t have any regard for anyone else other than himself. but surprisingly, he showed up at your doorstep 4 p.m. sharp, dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants while one of his backpack straps was hanging off his shoulder. much to your demise, your mom was the one who answered the door, and she just couldn’t stop fawning about how handsome he was. god.

“woh! you must be my daughters little college friend right? what a handsome young man you are, look at your eyes .. they’re so sharp and-” she was about to reach out to push rins bangs out of his face before you stepped in, and you swore you felt rins aura become tense when he saw you. there was a clear rivalry tension between you two. “thats enough, ma, we need to work on this project.” to which she giggles and winks to you like she’s trying to tell you to get together with him. which is nothing but infuriating.

you bring rin up to your room, shutting the door as you sat down at your study desk. “didn’t know you had so much consideration to show up on ti-” you turned your head to look at him, and he was still standing at the doorway looking completely mortified.

“..what the hells wrong with you?” “whats wrong with me? look at this room. its a trash island.” and theres nothing on your floor except a few pieces of clothes. fucking clean freak, you think.

“you’re a grown man. bear with it.” rins face looked like he just saw a ghost, slowly stepping into your room and heading over to where you were, sitting on the chair beside you and placing the bag on the floor. “your room smells.” “must’ve been your fault.”, the silence continues on, the only sounds heard is your pen scribbling against the paper. while rin .. just stares at you.

“so. what am i supposed to do? can’t you just do the work for me?” you were about to snap this pen in half from how hard you were gripping it out of anger. “you need to write a 10 page essay about community and social issues. that’s what.” rin hummed in acknowledgment as if he was just testing you, starting to get his paper out and starting to write.

though not even after a few minutes of writing, he’s already slumped against the table, staring at you again. his paper is blank except for his name and the date. you stare back at him when you notice his god awful posture.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“i don’t know how to write it.” he sounds like a confused and bored toddler at this point. you were going to rip this man in half. you took a deep breath and slapped the back of his head, and you felt heat radiating off of him. “you’re infuriating, itoshi rin.”

he got up from that slouched position, “this picture says otherwise.” he opens up his phone and you can almost guess what he’s gonna show you. “you’re trying to play the same trick on me? well- what. the. fuck.” you were quickly humbled when you saw text messages you sent to your friend,

“raw?” he cocks an eyebrow at you, and you’re internally freaking the fuck out. “i- i.. i hate you, fuck you, stupid bitch!” you can’t defend yourself anymore, so spurting out random insults will do for now. just for now though. “okay. sure.”

“you’re prettier with that mouth shut.” “i-.. i hic! hate you..” your voice was shaky, fat blobs of tears falling down your cheeks as he had you on the desk, anything that was from your waist down was stripped completely while his cock was plunging in and out of you.

it wasn’t sweet or romantic, he fucked you like he hated you (which he does, but still) but yet you couldn’t help but want more. its not your fault he was hitting all your sweet spots perfectly, its not your fault that his cock was so big that he couldn’t fit all of it in your little , pathetic hole. it wasn’t your fault your body just started grinding on him on its own!

“the feeling is mutual.” yet you both were clinging onto each others bodies like a lifeline. your arms wrapped tightly around his chest, pulling you both together while he was gripping onto the back of your thighs that were basically cum-soaked

you couldn’t make any noise, your mom was downstairs and your door unlocked, to which you have to bury your face into his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his cologne each time you breathed, and you couldn’t believe yourself when you felt your own walls clench around his cock whenever you did, “fuck.. you’re clenching too tight, fuck’s wrong with you?” “if y’don’t kissmerightnowimgonnaburnyourhousedown,”

you lifted up your head from his shoulder, his tears and drool-soaked shoulder to look at rin. his eyebrows were furrowed and he was biting his own lip, eyes peeking up just so slightly so he could see your face. “you’re fucking pathetic.” and that probably makes both of you equal from how fast he dived in to kiss you. you could feel the blood drawing out of his lips seep onto your tongue, and one might have suspect you as a vampire they saw you desperately sucking on his lips for more.

it was only a matter of time before you both pulled away, you looked up at him, batting your eyelashes as you let out the softest, sweetest moans. rin was blushing. hard. but obviously he’d never admit that, raising one hand to slap your face though firmly but not enough to hurt. your eyebrows furrowed at that, gripping and tugging on his hair back as “revenge”, but you both know you felt his cock twitch in you as you did.

“fuck y’think y’re doing?” his breathing was ragged, voice shaky and unstable yet he tried his best to seem intimidating, like how he usually was, though the rin you were seeing right now was a hot, blushing mess. “don’t pretend you don’t enjoy t- fuck! sstop, slow down! rin, rin rinnie— haahh.. rinnie!” you let the nickname slip, arms tightening around him as he suddenly started pounding into you at a ravenous pace, the sound of your skin slapping together continuously was definitely loud enough for anyone to hear.

“its rin, brat.” he took a deep sigh, and if you had a microphone to his mouth you’d be able to hear his soft whimpers whenever he exhaled. “m’close, inside or out?” but you were basically fucked dumb at this point from his pace, tears falling down your face from pleasure as you felt a knot in your stomach, “d-don’t knoww..” rin clicked his tongue in frustration, and just as soon as he was on the edge, you came with your clit untouched and he quickly pulled out, starting to stroke himself, releasing his cum on your stomach as he let out a low groan. “fuck..”

you both stayed there idle for a few moments, nothing exchanged between you two except laboured breaths. you fell limp against the wall behind you as he let go of you, grabbing a few tissues to wipe his cum off your stomach, then pulling his pants back up casually. “i’ll see you tomorrow.” and you immediately shot up, “what?! no! you just fucked me and you’re leaving immediately?..” ..you didn’t know how to feel. it was bittersweet. though, mostly bitter.

“what else do you want me to do?” “..just expected some, after care or something. whatever.” the way you frowned made rin feel nauseous. (his way of saying having butterflies in his stomach) and he groaned in annoyance, picking you up effortlessly and throwing you over his shoulder like you were just a sack of potatoes. “wheres your bathroom?” “ah!- rin! i, um. the right side,” he let out a hum of acknowledgement before heading to the bathroom.

he set up a bath, threw you in and grabbed a random towel from the cabinets, setting it beside the tub. you fell asleep almost instantly after being soaked in warmth.

masterlist

part 2 wip

a/n i fucking hate memi message why is it crashing every 10 mins stg

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

I think cnc Tumblr porn helped me understand consent better. Like coercion is a brand of cnc, so when I noticed my partner said "I think" instead of yes, and arms pulled away even though other parts were responding, it reminded me of coercion cnc, which lead to a stop and discussion. I might be a bit of a horny fuck, (nothing wrong with that, just inconvenient right now), but is there a way to turn down arousal/libido? Depression, stress, and relationship issues seem to be the big ones on Google, but. Um. Yeah. I'm also worried that things I wouldn't put much weight in could be coercion. Like if I ask about sex they'll feel a time limit on when they have to say yes, or cuddling with them while asking will pressure them towards saying yes.

hi anon,

I'm gonna say first and foremost. let's maybe work on starting a new paragraph when we introduce a new idea. because some of these swerves hit like trucks and you gotta warn a bitch.

anyway, let's talk about it!

no, there's not a reliable way to decrease your libido. that happens to a lot of people via mental or physical health problems and stress, as you noted, as well as in response to some medications or other things that cause hormonal shifts. it's not really something that can be purposefully induced, no matter how irksome being horny may be. life is a series of annoyances.

re: your thoughts on coercion - listen, man, you're going down a bad rabbit hole here. do we want to follow this thought to its logical conclusion? then asking for anything is coercion, because it places pressure on the other person to say yes or risk disappointing you.

when my wife asks me if I want to watch an episode on Once Upon a Time with dinner, he really wants me to say yes even though OUAT sucks so bad that it makes my brain hurt. sometimes I say yes, because I'm in a good mood and I like to make him happy and also because I post OUAT recaps on patreon and I need that sweet sweet #content. but other times I say no! and that's okay with both of us, because I know my wife is a big girl who can handle not always getting exactly what he wants and he knows that I'm not saying no because I hate him or because I think he was being an inconsiderate asshole for asking. and, most importantly, when I say yes he knows I'm not doing that because I feel pressured to say yes but because I'm genuinely fine with it.

if you ask about almost anything there's an expectation to answer eventually. it's entirely reasonable that you would be thinking about sex while cuddling and present the option. if you don't feel that you can trust your partner to say no when they don't really want to do something, then that's something you need to talk about with them! but there also comes a point when you have to believe someone when they say yes rather than perpetually second guessing them.

[myrleius]

what remains when the sound fades — bakugo k.

timeskip bakugo k. x patient fem!reader│wc: 3.8k

synopsis: Bakugo’s almost deaf now. But at a hospital he never meant to care about, with a girl who falls asleep without warning, he learns that maybe silence isn’t the end.

cw/tags: fluff, angst, hard of hearing!bakugo, made-up illness for fem!reader, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers

The doors slid open with a sound Bakugo couldn’t quite hear anymore. He just felt the pressure shift in the air, a faint vibration under his skin. 

He stepped into the hospital lobby anyway, hands buried deep in his hoodie pockets, shoulders drawn tight beneath the fabric.

No appointment today. No injuries or bruises to patch up either. But somehow, this visit felt heavier than the others combined.

His boots tapped against the polished tile—at least, he assumed they did. These days, sound was more of a memory. His hearing aids buzzed softly in his ears, letting in pieces of the world like light through cracked glass. Voices blurred, distant and muddled. Sharp one moment, swallowed the next.

He still wore them though. Most days. When he remembered.

He stopped by the reception desk. The nurse glanced up, clearly recognizing him. Pro-hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite wasn’t exactly subtle, even in civilian clothes. 

He didn’t bother speaking.

Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a slightly wrinkled sticky note—bright yellow with a tiny inked flower blooming in the bottom corner. Yn had given it to him months ago, back when he'd muttered—half ashamed—how much he hated asking people to repeat themselves.

The message was simple:

Hi. I’m hard of hearing. Can you write things down for me, please?

He held up his phone next, showing a photo of yn—caught mid-laugh, paint smudged on her wrist, eyes shining with something quiet and untouchable.

The nurse smiled gently and scribbled something on a notepad, turning it toward him.

She’s on the third floor. Art event today.

He nodded his thanks and made for the elevator, the paper note folded carefully back into his pocket.

As he waited for the elevator doors to open, he let himself replay the conversation from this morning.

“I’m losing my hearing,” he’d said, blunt and brief. “It’s almost gone.”

He expected disbelief. Or pity. Or those strained silences people always gave when they didn’t know what to say.

But it didn’t come.

Kirishima just slammed a hand on his shoulder, grin bright and unwavering. “Damn, man. That’s rough. But you’re still gonna kick ass, right? You’ll figure it out. And if you need backup, we’ve got you.”

Kaminari blinked, then leaned forward, curiosity overtaking any hesitation. “Wait, so does this mean you won’t hear me when I’m being annoying? Sweet—uh, I mean, not sweet, but—can I learn sign language just to mess with you?” He grinned, dodging the half-hearted swipe Bakugo took at him. 

Sero snorted. “Dude, you already ignore us half the time. What’s the difference?” When Bakugo glared, Sero held up his hands. “Kidding, kidding. But seriously, if you ever need us to repeat shit or write stuff down, just say the word.”

Mina didn’t miss a beat. “Okay, new rule. We’re all taking sign language classes. Also, don’t think this gets you out of game night. We will mime everything if we have to.”

And Deku—the one who’s known him longest, who’s seen him at his worst and his best—didn’t even flinch. His eyes remained steady, analyzing, before he nodded once. “You’ve already been adjusting, haven’t you? The way you’ve been positioning yourself in fights, relying more on visuals…” Of course he noticed. “You’ll still be one of the best. And… if you want help finding resources, or training workarounds, I’m here.”

No one stiffened. No one treated him like he was broken. And that hit harder than he’d thought it would.

And now, standing alone in the quiet of the hospital, he wasn’t sure if it made the weight in his chest had eased or fucking doubled.

The elevator dinged.

He stepped inside, pressed the third-floor button, and leaned back against the wall. He wasn’t here for anything urgent. Wasn’t even sure what he planned to say.

He just… needed to see yn.

They’d met a few months ago when his hearing started going to shit. She was always here, a familiar figure in the waiting rooms and hallways, worn hospital bracelets like second skin. At first, she was just a girl with the tired eyes and bright laugh who somehow made the place feel less suffocating. 

But she was more than that. 

She understood, really understood, what it felt like when your body turned against you.

He hadn’t expected to find someone like that in the middle of this nightmare.

Yet there she was. Her presence, gentle and steady, made it easier to breathe. She didn’t pry. Didn’t talk just to fill the silence. And she knew exactly how to sit with this kind of slow pain that didn’t have clean answers.

But when he needed it most, she always seemed to know what to say to help him hold his shit together.

The doors open, scattering his thoughts like startled birds. Before he could gather them again, his feet carried him out.

The third floor was loud.

Not in sound—Bakugo barely caught snippets of laughter and the thuds of feet—but in color, in motion. The hallway was lined with drop cloths and plastic sheets taped across the walls and floor. Furniture had been pushed back. Paint buckets sat open, and kids ran by waving paintbrushes like flags.

It smelled like wet acrylics and masking tape.

Bakugo didn’t need to ask who was responsible.

“Hey! No paint in anyone’s eyeballs, got it?” came a voice from further down the hall. “We want windows, not lawsuits!”

He turned the corner just in time to see yn balancing a tray of mini palettes, swerving between kids and elderly patients like it was a practiced dance. A brush was tucked behind her ear. Paint dotted her sleeves. Her smile was effortless.

And then her eyes met his.

She brightened instantly. “Bakugo,” she called, walking over. “You don’t have an appointment today, right?”

Bakugo shook his head and signed stiffly, fingers sharp with feigned disinterest, “Had extra time. Figured I’d see what you’re up to.”

Yn didn’t miss a beat. She was fluent by now, between her own years in this hospital and months of chatting with him.

“Oh, so you missed me,” she signed back with a cheeky grin, handing him a clean smock. “Got it.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t refuse it. He slipped it on, its sleeves straining around his biceps, while surveying the windows. Every one of them, long panes stretching the whole corridor, was already a riot of color—splashes of sky blue, cartoon suns, stick figure heroes, one ambitious mural of a dragon and a bakery somehow mashed together.

“What the hell is all this?” he asked aloud this time.

Yn adjusted her stance, instinctively positioning herself so he could see her lips, just in case he hadn’t caught her words. They’d practice this enough that she didn’t even think about it now. 

“Window canvases,” she said. “They’re replacing the glass soon, so I asked if we could paint on them instead of just throwing them out. Figured it’d be good fun for the others. Plus, my friend’s gallery agreed to exhibit them, so they get recycled and displayed. Cool, right?”

Bakugo folded his arms. “Let me guess—you bribed the staff, didn’t you?”

“Hey! I got permission from the hospital director,” she said, wiggling her fingers. “Now quit stalling and help me out.”

They spent the next hour darting between stations. Yn played the ringleader—passing out fresh brushes, hyping up shaky stick figures like they were masterpieces. Bakugo kept a closer eye, steadying ladders, pulling kids away from spilled paint, reminding a particularly rowdy pair of teens not to paint each other’s faces again.

It was loud. It was uncoordinated. It was a mess.

And it was… nice.

He wasn’t giving orders or chasing down villains, but he could still do something here. Still be useful.

One of the older patients tugged on his sleeve, holding up a brush. She pointed to the top corner of her window, then mimed her arm not reaching.

Bakugo didn’t even hesitate. He grabbed a chair, climbed up, and filled in the empty corner with simple strokes of yellow.

When he stepped back down, the woman gave him a toothy grin and signed, slowly but clearly, “Thank you.”

He blinked. Then nodded, almost sheepishly.

Yn watched it all with a warm, quiet smile.

By the time the last of the patients shuffled off to their rooms, the floor had fallen quiet.

The sunset bled through the painted windows in long, glowing streaks. Everything was bathed in amber. Where once there was sterile white, there was now a wash of color—skies, forests, tiny heroes flying beside flowers, scrawled messages of hope and names written with confidence.

Bakugo stood at the center of it all, arms folded, head tilted back. Even the ceiling had caught a few stray splashes. The low hum of his hearing aids filled the silence, a steady static he’d grown used to. Tonight, it felt less like noise, and more like… presence.

Yn drifted to his side, her shoulder nudging his.

“Think they’ll let me do this again next year?” she asked, voice light and teasing.

Bakugo huffed. “Not if they see what you did to the walls.”

“They’re covered. Mostly.” She gestured to the plastic sheets still clinging to the walls, though tiny paint splatters had seeped into the creases. “Besides, they're repainting the whole floor anyway. I just… sped things along.”

He shook his head, a low laugh slipping out despite himself. He glanced over. Her hair clung to her forehead, cheeks flushed, fingertips stained in streaks of color. Despite the exhaustion weighing on her shoulders, triumph sparkled in her eyes.

“You did good,” he signed. Hands slower than usual, but sure.

She didn’t hesitate to sign back. “You helped.”

He looked away at that. His hand twitched at his side before he shoved it into his pocket.

A moment passed.

Then another.

“I… told them,” he muttered, more to the empty hallway than to her. Fuck if he knew why. Maybe just to prove it mattered. “The other heroes. Told ‘em I can’t hear for shit anymore.”

Yn didn’t react. She just waited, giving him space to let it out.

Bakugo stared out at the windows, jaw tight. “I didn’t think I’d be able to say it. But I did. Told ‘em I’m still learning sign, still working on reading lips. But I’d still… probably need someone to help interpret if my aids crap out. Might miss shit or mess up.”

A pause. And his throat worked again. “I didn’t expect them to—to take it so well. Just an, ‘Okay. We’ll adjust.’ They didn’t even look at me like I was broken.”

Yn’s hand settled on his shoulder, the touch feather-light. “Because you’re not.”

“But I’m slower now. I can’t do the same field work. Can’t hear civilians shouting. That used to fuck with me so much.” He exhaled sharply. “But they said they’d work with me. That they’d adapt or whatever.”

“Then that’s their call,” she said, shrugging. “They know what they’re signing up for. And they asked you to stay anyway.”

His gaze flicked to hers. Something tight and uncertain lingered beneath the surface.

“You ever think people say that shit just to be nice?” he asked, voice scraping low. “Like, they believe it now, but deep down, they still think you’re… a liability?”

Yn paused, thoughtful. Then tilted her head. “Would you?”

Bakugo blinked. His mouth twitched. “Fuck no.”

“Then why assume they would?” she asked, sliding her hand down his arm to catch his hand. “They’re not stupid, Bakugo. They’re pros. They know what a liability looks like. I don’t think they’d risk the safety of people on someone they didn’t believe in.”

His brow furrowed, mind scrambling to find the flaw in her logic. There had to be one.

As if sensing his spiral, she cut through with quiet certainty. “You’re not weak, Bakugo.” The word landed deliberately, dismantling his unspoken fear. “You’re just changing. That doesn’t diminish who you’ve always been.”

Bakugo was silent. He let her words sit, feeling its weight. Then, slowly, his hand turned, fingers lacing with hers.

“I just… I get scared,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “Not about being deaf. About being fucking useless.” His thumb brushed her knuckle, an unconscious plea. “I thought it meant I was done. That I couldn’t be a hero anymore.”

“You’re not done. You’re just learning a new way to fight,” she said, her voice was softer but the steel beneath it never wavered. “And if anyone’s stubborn enough to make it work? It’s you.”

She leaned in until their shoulders touched, forcing his gaze up. “Imagine it—first deaf hero in the charts. Kids with hearing loss seeing someone like them up there.” Then her smile widened, teasing again. “Unless… you’re actually considering retirement?”

He snorted, real and unguarded. “No fuckin’ way.”

“Then you’re not done.” Her tone left no room for argument. “Because you get to decide that.”

Her words sat in his chest like a live wire.

Bullshit. 

Heroism was supposed to be hard. He'd welcomed that—the broken ribs, the sleepless nights, the impossible choices. But this wasn't another challenge to overcome. It was a permanent fucking handicap. Deafness wasn’t an enemy he could punch. It was a door slammed in his face.

But.

His hands flexed against his thighs. The same hands that had once sparked with explosions now knew the shape of signs. The same body that had lunged into battle without hesitation now calculated angles, light, vibrations—workarounds.

Was that weakness? Or just another fight?

The hospital hallway stretched too bright, too quiet. He could still see the other heroes’ faces when he’d told them. No flinching. No whispers. Just nods, quick adjustments. They planned to work around it. Like pros. Like equals.

Bakugo slowly felt the warmth of her hand then.

He gritted his teeth. Fuck. A long-buried memory resurfaced—one he’d almost let slip away.

Heroism wasn't about perfection. It was about persistence. About dragging yourself through hell with whatever pieces you still had, just to keep the light in others’ eyes.

A breath shuddered out of him. Fine. Fine. If the world wanted to count him out over something like this, they’d learn the same damn lesson they always did.

Because Katsuki Bakugo didn’t lose. Not to villains. Not to fate.

And definitely not to himself.

He breathed out slowly. His heart beat steady in his chest.

And then, with absolutely no warning, he reached out and ruffled her hair with excessive vigor, fingers combing through the strands just to wreck them completely. 

“The hell?” he asked, voice full of forced insult, but his touch was gentle. “Since when did you get smart enough to say shit like that?”

Yn squeaked, batting his hand away. But she didn’t move far. Because she felt it, too—the way his hand hovered for a moment too long. Shaking, not from strain, but from everything it took to admit he was scared.

She could’ve called it out. Could’ve gone soft. Instead, she smirked and poked his cheek. “Says the guy who needed me to spell it out for him,” she fired back.

He scoffed, but his hand lingered, sliding from her hair to cradle her cheek. His thumb traced the curve of her cheekbone—lighter than his usual rough handling, but just as deliberate. 

“Yeah,” he admitted, voice dropping to something dangerously close to tender. “Guess I needed that.”

He barely heard it, but he saw her breath hitch.

“Oi.” His squint was all mock-suspicion as his thumb brushed the flush spreading across her skin. “The hell's this, huh? Sunburn?”

“Shut up.” She tried to twist away, but his grip shifted to her chin, holding her in place.

“Ain't wearing makeup,” he mused, leaning closer. “So unless you're running a fever—”

“I swear to god—”

“—must be me.” The smirk in his voice was audible. “Damn. That's embarrassing for you.”

She huffed, but didn’t pull back this time. Instead, her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, right over his chest.

The light from the painted windows spilled across her face just then, making her eyes look like they were glowing. Blue paint smudged her cheek, a messy contrast to the red flush beneath it. And her lips, damn it, they looked so soft. So inviting.

He’d imagined this. More than he’d ever admit. Would she go all soft and sigh, feeling warm like her hugs or laughter? Or would it be all teeth and fire, like when she’d snap a comeback with that infuriating grin, leaving him itching for more? God, either would ruin him.

Bakugo leaned closer, their noses brushing. “Hey… I’ve been thinking—”

And then her body tipped.

His reflexes moved before his thoughts did.

He caught her easily, arms looping around her middle as her knees buckled. Her head dropped lightly against his chest, her weight sudden but familiar.

“Shit,” he muttered, adjusting her in his hold.

Her breathing was soft, even. Completely out like a light.

Right. Her sleep spells.

She’d explained them the first time it happened—some kind of neurological disorder with no warning signs or real triggers. One moment she was awake, the next she was out cold, collapsing like a puppet with cut strings. She’d joked that her brain had a faulty “off switch.” Nothing dangerous, just… inconvenient. That’s what she called it.

But it still scared the hell out of him every time.

“Ruined the moment, idiot,” he mumbled, brushing her hair back.

She didn’t respond, obviously. Just nuzzled unconsciously into his chest like she always did when this happened.

Bakugo sighed and looked around.

The hallway was empty. Lit gold. Quiet

He stood there for a long minute, holding her steady, his heartbeat slow in his ears. Her weight wasn’t heavy. Just… warm.

This wasn’t the kind of saving he was used to.

No villains. No collapsing buildings. No flash of cameras or crowd roaring after.

But maybe… that was okay.

Maybe saving people wasn’t always about being the strongest. Sometimes, it was holding someone when they fell. Watching over a hallway of kids so they could paint suns. Catching a brush before it hit the floor.

He looked back at the art. 

At the handprints. 

The names. 

The hope.

Bakugo exhaled.

Yeah. He could still be a hero like this, too.

When yn woke up, the first thing she noticed was the dim lighting. It was night outside, the curtains pulled but still faintly glowing at the edges. The overhead light cast a soft halo around the room—just enough to see by.

The second thing she noticed was the dry taste in her mouth and the dull ache in her back, which meant she’d been out for a while.

The third thing she noticed was the very broad figure slouched in the chair beside her bed, arms crossed and chin tucked low against his chest.

Bakugo.

He was fast asleep. His hearing aids were out and tucked into a little case on the table beside her water cup. His hair was messy, a smear of green paint still streaking one forearm like a leftover memory of the day.

Yn blinked at him, a slow warmth blooming in her chest.

“You could’ve gone home, dummy,” she whispered.

He didn’t respond. Of course not.

She pushed herself up slowly, limbs stiff but cooperative.

The motion must’ve stirred him, because Bakugo’s eyes cracked open a second later. Red, sleep-heavy, a little bleary.

He blinked, squinted at her. Then straightened with a quiet grunt, dragging a hand over his face. “You’re up.”

“Was I out long?” she rasped, reaching for the water.

He grabbed his hearing aids and slid them in. “Five hours.”

“Mm. That’s not bad.”

He gave her a flat look. “You missed dinner.”

She smiled, unbothered. “Worried I wouldn’t get my pudding cup?”

“I ate your pudding cup.”

She laughed. “You thief.”

“It was melting,” he said, smug.

She looked at him for a long moment.

The curve of his shoulders. The stupidly hot smirk. The stubborn warmth in the way he always stayed, even when it wasn’t convenient.

Then, she held her arms out with all the drama she could summon. “Pity hug. Now, you monster.”

He gave her a look—half amused, half exasperated—but stood up anyway and leaned down to hug her, arms looping around her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her hands found the back of his neck, fingers toying lightly with the tips of his hair.

He didn’t pull away. Just rested his forehead against hers, eyes half-lidded and soft.

“Did I miss anything?” she murmured.

“Mm. Something pretty major,” he murmured back. “Life-changing, even.”

She chuckled. “Can I still experience it? Or was it a one-time thing?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said. “It’s a lifetime thing.”

Then he kissed her.

It wasn’t perfect. There was too much grinning, too many half-laughs between presses of lips. But it was good. Warm. A tiny pocket of peace carved out of everything else.

And then, it changed. Just a little. He leaned in again, his hand sliding lower, and lips parting with unsubtle intent.

Yn made a sound of protest, half chuckle, half warning, and pressed a hand to his chest.

“Hey,” she said, breathless. “We are in a hospital.”

“No one’s watching,” he muttered, cocky. “I’ll be quick.”

“Bakugo,” she warned, trying to look stern.

His grin went lopsided. “Be glad I waited ‘til you were awake. I was tempted earlier.”

She groaned. “Oh my god.”

But she was still tangled in him, still laughing, and he looked unbearably pleased with himself.

A knock at the door interrupted the moment—gentle, polite, and clearly a nurse’s way of saying wrap it up, Romeo.

Bakugo sighed dramatically. “There goes our chance…”

“Text me when you get home, all right?” she said, hand still on his chest, ignoring his whining.

He leaned in, kissing her forehead. “I can smuggle you out, you know.”

She flicked his arm. “Out. Go. Before they revoke your visitation rights.”

He laughed and headed toward the door, pausing just before he stepped through.

“Oh,” he added, glancing back over his shoulder. “By the way. You’re my girlfriend now. Just letting you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh. That’s it? No asking?”

He shrugged. “I figured the kissing made it pretty clear.”

She tried not to smile, but failed. “Fine. But you’re buying me pudding next time.”

“Noted.”

And then he was gone, the door clicking softly behind him.

Yn lay back against the pillows and let the silence settle.

Officially dating a half-deaf, overly-confident exasperating pro hero with a pudding problem.

Not exactly how she thought the day would end.

But it felt good. Solid. Like something she could lean into without fear of breaking it.

And even if he was a thief… At least he’d finally stolen something she’d wanted him to all along.

[iamthatonefangirl]

i need to lick bucky.. like i need him to be fucking up into me while i straddle him and just licking and biting his shoulder and neck 😶 blinks

oh yes. OH yeah. yes. you know it anon.

he looks so pretty no matter what, with or without his shirt, it doesn't matter. but you love to get to see him, to see his beautiful skin exposed to your gaze.

only you have the right to stare, to touch, to own him. you're the only one he's granted that privilege.

and dear god, sometimes when you see him without his shirt, you just want to lave your tongue over him like there's no tomorrow.

like right now, when he's changing out of his clothes to put on something more comfortable, and you just... want to gnaw on him (anyone know that one meme?)

he glances over to where you're obviously staring at him, not even trying to pretend like you're still looking down at your phone

"see something you like, doll?" he smirks.

"fuck, yes, oh my god," you say, crawling across the sheets to meet him at the foot of the bed

and you fucking drag him down with you because you can't help how badly you need him

he's practically already naked, having been in the middle of getting changed. and he's always ready to go whenever you want it. especially when you look at him like that

you plant your lips on his neck and refuse to let go. you're almost like a dog that's being yelled at to drop something but NO! you want it

oops anyways

you're grabbing at his shoulders, the hard muscle of his chest, of his tits, and you need your mouth there asap

so you do, you bring your mouth down, making sure to leave teeth marks and bruises all the way down his collarbone as you do.

and you can't really help it if you just take a little nibble out of his chest

"fuck, sweetheart," he hisses when he feels it. it only serves to make him that much more horny. but you're clearly preoccupied, so he takes it upon himself to lift your hips and pull your panties to the side to finally bury his fingers inside you

it shouldn't surprise him, but it DOES, when you don't even let go with the increase in sensation between your legs

you just dig your teeth in deeper, leaving more marks, deeper marks on his skin

"better put that mouth on my cock, maybe that'll tire you out," he threatens

you wouldn't complain if he did.

~~~

andddd that's it because my carpal tunnel is telling me that's enough writing for today

[cherryyserenade]

YOU STARTED IT

- in which heesung makes a mess of you and still calls you angel ⋆˚꩜｡

hi loves!! so i've honestly been so down bad for heesung its honestly embarrassing at this point. like, he breaths and i start kicking my feet. with the new album finally out (stream desire unleash!!), i had to write something sweet and a lil filthy to cure my own desires. if comeback!heesung has u spiraling, this is for you ₍^. .^₎⟆

ꪆৎ w. smut 18+ mdni!, soft dom!hee x fem!reader, fingering (f recieving), lap sitting, teasing, dirty talk, praise kink, use of pet names, language, kissing, reader gets shyyyy after, the basics tbfr.

REBLOG & COMMENT FOR KISSES ── .✦

it starts with you just sitting on his lap.

that’s all you meant for it to be anyways. a innocent, casual, lazy makeout on the couch while a half watched movie plays in the background. but heeseung? it was never just anything. not when it came to you.

you shift slightly, adjusting your legs across his thighs. but the second your hips press down and grind — even a little — his breath stutters.

“don’t do that,” he warned as he broke apart from the kiss, low and tight.

you tilt your head, all fake innocence and give a slight pout. “do what?”

heeseung’s hands fly to your waist, gripping like he’s grounding himself. but you feel it. the way he’s already hard under you, the way his fingers twitch against your skin like he’s holding back.

“you know exactly what you’re doing,” he mutters, leaning in to kiss your neck. “wearing these little shorts, climbing on my lap, acting all sweet like you don’t wanna get fucked right here.”

your breath catches. he feels it. smirks.

then — his hand slips between your legs. over your shorts. two fingers press against you through the fabric, slow and firm.

and he groans.

“…oh, baby.”

you squirm, hips twitching instinctively, but he grabs your thigh to keep you still.

“you’re soaking wet,” he says, voice dropping an octave. “fuckkkk. this pussy’s begging, baby. you feel that?”

the way he says it — like he’s stunned, like you’ve ruined him without even trying — it sends a full body shiver through you.

“i barely touched you,” he murmurs, dragging his fingers up and down the damp fabric, featherlight, like he’s testing just how far he can push you. “you’re already dripping, huh? just from sitting on my lap?”

you nod in a daze, lips parted, too turned on to play coy anymore.

heeseung leans in, kissing you deep, slow and messy, like he’s trying to make you forget how to breathe. when he finally pulls back, his voice is low, rough in your ear.

“take these off for me angel,” he murmurs. “i need to feel you.”

your checks go pink at the nickname as your hands twitch, ready to obey, but he catches your wrist gently.

“actually,” he breathes, gaze flicking up to meet yours, soft bambi eyes long gone and replaced by eyes of hunger and dominance “let me.”

you barely get a word out before his fingers slip into the waistband of your shorts, dragging them down with aching slowness. his eyes don’t leave yours for a second — dark, hungry, like he’s drinking up every one of your soft gasps, every inch of skin he reveals.

and when his fingers finally slip between your legs — bare, warm, and aching — he almost moans.

“fuck, baby. you’re soaking,” heesung groans out and without warning, one finger slides in. then two. “so fucking tight for me too.”

you let out a soft moan, head falling back, and he doesn’t let up — curling his fingers just right, thumb rubbing soft circles on your throbbing clit; his free hand gripping your thigh so tight you know it’ll leave marks later.

“say it,” he pants, voice hot in your ear. “tell me who gets you like this.”

“mmph- you,” you answer immediately, legs already starting to shake. “only you hee, just for you baby”

“that’s right.” his smile is wicked. “now come for me. don’t hold back baby, wanna hear all of you when you fall apart on my fingers.”

and you do, hips grinding, mouth open, crying out his name like it’s the only word you know.

your body’s still trembling when it’s over — thighs twitching, face buried in the crook of his neck, trying to hide how wrecked you are.

heeseung just holds you, arms locked around your waist, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he rocks you through the aftershocks.

“that’s it, angel,” he murmurs, voice soft and steady. “you did so good for me. so fucking pretty when you fall apart.”

you let out a quiet whine, cheeks burning, trying to hide deeper in his hoodie — and of course he notices.

his fingers stroke slowly up your spine, calming and warm.

“what, all shy now?” he says under his breath, a little amused. “thought you were just being brave.”

you don’t respond — just groan into his shoulder, and he laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“mm, that’s what i thought,” he hums, then leans back just enough to look at you. “don’t go climbing into my lap like that if you’re gonna melt the second it’s over.”

his voice is teasing, but his eyes are nothing but soft.

and you still breathless and flushed, curled up against him — just nod, letting him hold you like it’s the only place you belong.

[atramenting]

When I write a post on tumblr dot com, I rarely (if ever) use proper punctuation, capitalization, or sentence structure. However, when I write as an author, or in any other structured manner (recipes for strangers, explanations/trying to Properly Share Knowledge, school) my writing would almost certainly be flagged as AI.

Because I'm autistic. And when I am writing seriously, I Follow The Rules.

Different circumstances require different writing styles. These can be replicated by AI easily because they each have neat little rulesets. You can make your little bot write in a certain voice; you can make it write casually or you can have it make bulleted lists full of professional jargon relating to the topic you're generating content for. Just take five minutes to scroll the chatGPT subreddit, and you'll see dozens of examples of douchebags telling the stupid AI "hey write that again but in a more professional voice/more casual/with better grammar" and the damn fucking bots can do it. There is literally no telling what is 100% AI anymore because they've unfortunately trained the models to be able to write in any fucking voice they want.

I had to LEARN how to write less professionally because, growing up, school was one of the only places in which it wasn't incredibly difficult for me to thrive, so I applied The Writing Rules everywhere. If I could count the number of times I've been told I "talk like a robot" -- even 20 years ago -- I'd like, have a loose bag of change, but enough to make a point here. Point here being that "your writing is too structured so you must be using AI to generate a post" = really kinda messed up ableist rhetoric.

Not because "wahhhhhh I can't write my post I NEED AI" but because you haven't taken into account that numerous autistic people just. Write like that. AND SO DO THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE WHO AREN'T ON THE SPECTRUM! Because it was their job! Because it's how they learned to write in school! Because they didn't grow up terminally online!

And that right up there (the double dash --) automatically converts to an em dash in almost any functioning word processor. Because it's literally normal-ass punctuation. There's like, settings to turn it on or off, sure, but default? It gets converted. Because it's not something used frequently enough to have a dedicated key on a keyboard -- but it IS something frequently enough used to have a generally recognized shortcut that doesn't require using ALT codes.

Anyway, this got longer than I wanted it to. But immediately labeling a numbered/bulleted list or writing that uses em dashes as AI is really messed up, considering a dude can just say "hey rewrite that without the dashes" and -- surprise -- now your tactics are useless. And now you're attacking a real person who uses a real punctuation mark to emphasize or explain their points. Like,

"this is DEFINITELY written by AI, I can tell because it uses the writing quirks that AI uses (because it was trained on real people who write with those quirks)"

c'mon dudes we have got to do better than this

[hearts4sammonroe]

I think her 5 year old , i have questions about everything and anything. And will come and ask you the most obscure questions in the middle of the night phase 😭

Just imagine it’s probably midnight and you put her to bed an hour ago, you’re fresh out the shower and Stephen wasted no time when you walked out. He’ll be SO CLOSE and Caroline busts into the room with a question

“Cockblocker”

pairing: dad!stephen x mom!reader x caroline

contains: the struggles of trying to get some action when you have a curious 4 year old… smut, piv, whiny!top!stephen, swearing, no orgasm, comedy!

a/n: enjoy 😈 divider credits are in my masterlist, and pics are from pinterest!

Stephen Glass was very sexually frustrated. He loves his sweet baby girl, he really does. But he’s been a little frustrated because anytime he’s finally getting some, the little girl busts into the room with the most random questions.

At first, it was funny. Because anytime you and Stephen were just making out or even trying to get some “over the pants” stuff going on, she somehow interrupted. Her timing was comical. It really was hilarious at first, until you and Stephen both got sexually frustrated as the days passed.

You had put Caroline to bed an hour ago, and the second after getting out of the shower, Stephen pounced on you. You weren’t even in your pajamas yet, so he was just tearing off the towel. You were horny as hell, too, so you let him.

Anyway, he was currently, finally fucking you in missionary.

“Fuck, I missed your pussy so bad.” Stephen whines, burying his face into your neck as his hips slap against yours. “Nnngh, baby…”

He was damn near about to break his glasses because he was so eager to stick his dick in something, that he didn’t take them off. “Stephen… Stephen… Stephen!”

He finally snapped out of his pussy-drunk daze and looked up at you. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

“Yeah, just take your glasses off.” You laugh through a soft moan.

“Oh… yeah.” He chuckles. He couldn’t even stop fucking you for one second. He didn’t place his glasses on the nightstand or anything. No, he tossed his glasses onto the side of the pillow. You rolled your eyes, but he was fucking you too good for you to care right now.

“Oh, my God… yeahhh…” Stephen whimpers, lifting your leg up higher onto his waist and burying his face in your boobs. He was more vocal than you, and definitely a whiner. “That feel good, baby?”

“So good.” You nod, eyes fluttering shut and back arching.

“Uh-huh? You close?” Stephen asks almost desperately. He needed you to cum. He came pretty fast every time, but he always tried to wait for you to cum first.

“Just cum, Stephen. I don’t care.” You shake your head, rolling your hips up. “I need it.”

“Yeah?” Stephen moans, holding onto your hips so he can fuck you faster. “Ohhh fuck… fucking hell… shit, your pussy is so wet, listen to it… I’m gonna fill you—“

He was cut off by your bedroom door opening. You shoved Stephen off before your daughter could see anything and covered yourself. “What’s wrong, baby girl? Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, I just had a question.” Caroline sleepily mumbles, rubbing her eyes, teddy bear in the other hand.

Stephen almost huffed but he held it back, making sure he was covered. He may be desperate for an orgasm, but he wasn’t going to traumatize his daughter.

“Did Elmo tell you goodnight?” She asks.

“Jesus.” Stephen mumbles, rubbing his temples. Here he was trying to get some action, and his five-year-old daughter just busted in to ask if Elmo, the red fuzzy creature from Sesame Street, told him goodnight.

“Yes, baby, Elmo told us goodnight. Go back to bed now, okay?” You tell her softly, offering her a smile.

“Wait.” She pouts. “Did the Cookie Monster say goodnight, too?”

“Yes.” Stephen nods quickly.

“Did you leave out cookies for him, daddy?”

“I—… yeah, I did.” Stephen lies.

“Okay.” Caroline nods slowly. She was just about to walk out but then she got an idea. “Can I have a sleepover in here?”

Stephen wanted to whine in frustration, but he was not about to tell Caroline no. He never could. “Yes, sweetheart. Go get your blanket and your other teddy.”

“Okay!” Caroline smiles, happily running to her room.

Thankfully, you guys had enough time to put your clothes on and straighten the bed up before she came back. When she got back, she crawled in between you guys, making sure her teddy bears got a goodnight kiss from both of you, and multiple kisses for her, before finally falling asleep.

“Tomorrow.” You whisper, chuckling softly.

“If this adorable but frustrating kid doesn’t interrupt again, talking about those creepy creatures.” Stephen sighs, cracking a smile.

The next day, Caroline was thankfully asking for a sleepover at Grandma’s house. Stephen’s mom was very happy to take her for the night.

Now, you guys had a whole night for some quality time. Or in Stephen’s words… “a much needed break.”

taglist: @anakinstwinklebunny @haydenismyman @anisangeldust @cassielunaaa @madsluvsdilfs @mvst4far @divineani @alealuvshayden @prettiestmini @darthrenswiftie @devotedlypaleluminary @amiratheangel @inlovewithallmusic

[hannie-dul-set]

my youth is fee — [PREVIEW].

SYNOPSIS. there’s this one boy who keeps reminding you that there’s no price to enjoying the moment, and that there’s no such thing as a deadline in living life to its fullest.

PAIRING. taesan x female! reader. GENRE. college! au, romance, humor, coming of age, comfort (no hurt), light angst, childhood friends to lovers (fuck you, you’re never taking this trope away from me), younger brother! woonhak, taesan is your manic pixie dream boy. i saw the clip of him saying that his ideal type is someone he could tease and i’ve never been the same ever since— i.e. he’s a shameless flirt in this watch out. WARNINGS. swearing, alcohol, mc is older than taesan and shorter than him (it’s dynamic relevant i promise), the many struggles (and mistakes) of the eldest sister in an asian household, pressure and anxiety attached to a graduating student. yeah, i’m projecting leave me alone. WORD COUNT. preview, 5k | full fic, est. at least 30k LMAO.

RELEASE DATE. within the month of june. TAGLIST. dm/ask/comment to be added.

NOTE. this is my last major project before ultimately graduating and probably getting even less time to write at this point HAHAH so i’m really targeting to finish and release it this month for the sake of thematic relevance, and while my emotions are still on high HAHAHAH. if you've read some of my fics before, let me just say upfront that this is gonna be in the same vein as peach tree, love vomit, and mogi/nabi. meaning— it’s gonna be so full of love and endearment that ur gonna be sick by the end of it!!! woohoo!!!!

preview under the cut.

YOU’D LIVED MOST OF YOUR LIFE AS AN OLDER SISTER TO SIX BOYS. Well. Not exactly, but figuratively. Only one of those boys is your actual brother. The rest are totally against your own will. 

See, you didn’t sign up for it. It’s just that your mom has five friends living in the same neighborhood, and those five friends of hers had five sons after she had you as a daughter— meaning, you were born into the role as a direct consequence of your parents deciding to marry the moment they reached the age of majority. Not the smartest decision, but they were high school sweethearts in love. Also, your dad was gonna inherit Gwangju’s fruit and vegetable monopoly, anyway. They were set out for life.

Anyhow, the details aren’t really necessary. This is just to explain why you, as a graduating senior, are so at home being surrounded by a handful of freshmen right now. 

“Seonbae, I read your article in the Policy Studies Journal! I totally agree with your analysis.”

“You’re literally one week old in this program. Quit acting like you understood anything.”

“By the way, seonbae, is Prof Yeon’s classes really hard? I have him for my intro class, and—”

“Congratulations on your LOGODI internship, noona! Are you gonna be paying for the next round of drinks?”

It’s almost like your face muscles have stiffened from smiling too much, and your beer glass has been left untouched for the last ten to fifteen minutes. The kids continue to eagerly swarm you with questions and songs of praises. It currently being your department’s opening party and you being the face of your department— you kind of expected this much. Still, it’s a little overstimulating. But you continue responding to as many questions as you can because, again, it’s not something you’re not used to.

“Thank you for reading my article, Dohoon. Prof Yeon actually helped me a lot with it, and he isn’t as bad as you think, Jiyeon! Just keep up with the readings, and you’ll be fine.”

They’re cute. They’re excited. Keeping up with a bunch of energetic kids is something you’d been doing since the age of three. But as you continue to age, it does get a bit more exhausting as the years pass.

“Hey, now— leave your seonbae alone, kids. You’re all suffocating her with your questions.”

Your saving grace comes in the form of Kim Sunwoo sauntering out of nowhere to drop an arm on your shoulder from behind your chair. 

A release of breath slips past your lips, right before it finally manages to touch the cold rim of your glass. You’re about to welcome his appearance with a smile, but he rips your gratefulness away just as quickly as he offered it. “She just got dumped. She’s suffering from a breakup right now.” Two pats on the same shoulder. Two very patronizing pats. “Let her drink her sorrows away in peace.”

The beer doesn’t even make it to the middle of your throat when you choke it back out. A chorus of gasps break out. You wipe your mouth with your sleeve as you snap your head back. “Kim Sunwoo, what the hell?”

He grins. He flashes you a peace sign. Then starts walking away.

“Hey, you, get back here—”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry to hear that, seonbae. I hope you’re doing okay.”

“At least you’d be busy with your internship to think about too much…?”

“Cheer up, seonbae! You’re probably too good for that Choi Soobin guy, anway!”

How the hell did these kids even know who your ex is?! Where the hell did Kim Sunwoo run off to?!

“I saw him once and…He’s actually really handsome.”

“O—oh, then— then forget about him, seonbae! You’ll find someone better!”

Somehow, you manage to excuse yourself from the brood of ducklings to hunt down that damned rat. You spot the hood of his jacket— sitting on the same table as Yeji, and giving you the perfect opportunity to yank in down and elicit a guttural yelp from him. “Gah!”

“Move over, asshole.”

“Hey, you’re here!”  Yeji greets you, pushing off an extremely offended Sunwoo from his chair and taps on the seat the moment his ass leaves the surface. “Sit! I haven’t heard a whiff from you over break and the first thing I find out is that you broke up with Choi fucking Soobin. What the hell happened?”

“Correction. He broke up with her,” Sunwoo sniggers, straggling onto another vacant seat on the table. “Imagine the whiplash when I got the notifs ‘I got the internship,’ and ‘Choi Soobin dumped me,’ with not even a two-hour interval between each text. Crazy shit.”

You groan. Yeji very timely pushes her drink towards you and you take a swig. 

It really wasn’t that dramatic of a breakup. The day you received the acceptance email, you had a dinner scheduled with your then boyfriend. If Sunwoo was whiplashed, how does he think you felt when you told Soobin about the news over pasta, him congratulating you and that he knew you’d get it— only for it to be followed by a pregnant silence as he nervously gulps down a glass of water, just to drop the foreboding opening of, “You’re amazing and I’m really proud of you, but…”

Ugh. Recalling it causes a vein in your head to tick. You slam the glass down on the table. “Is it messed up to say that I was more mad than heartbroken over it?”

“Girl, what are you talking about?” Yeju huffs.  “I’d be pissed too if that hot of a guy broke up with me— not to mention a hot guy you’d been dating for three years! You didn’t even put up a fight! How could you just go with it?!”

“What, did you want me to beg him not to dump me? I have my pride too!” you screech back. Sunwoo is just watching you both like he’s watching a liveshow. “But that’s not the reason why I’m so pissed. This breakup just obliterated my 40 Year Plan, and I’ve been losing sleep trying to figure out how to get back on track and fix it.”

You fear you’ve just lost the room at the mention of your 40 Year Plan.

“Your…what?”

40 Year Plan. At age nineteen, you enter university. By twenty-three, you graduate and get a good job in the same year. Which is why you were so hell bent on getting the internship at the Local Government Officials Development Institute, under the Ministry of the Interior and Safety. Not only does it give you an easy opening to networking and eventually landing a job there, the internship is paid despite being a public institution— which is one of the major reasons why applications are always a battlefield every year.

You were warned by a senior while you were still in the midst of preparing your application. That there’s no such thing as free lunch, and the pay is definitely not worth the amount of work they put you through. 

Nevertheless, it’s still your gateway ticket to landing a stable job fresh out of graduation, ensuring that you stay on track and stay on schedule. That plan’s been fucked entirely by your recent breakup, though. 

You were supposed to get married by age twenty-five. Live a happy married life for the next five years domestically. Then your vacations in your thirties are gonna be spent travelling the world. Now, how the hell are you supposed to meet a new guy and fall in love with him just enough for you to want a ring on your finger— without wasting so much of your damn time on useless blind dates and dating apps— all within two damn years when it took you your entire life to meet Choi Soobin?

“My schedule has already been delayed after taking a gap year last year to save money,” you continue complaining. The alcohol is slowly starting to sink into your system. Your friends are looking at you like you’re insane.

“It’s…more fucked up that you scheduled literally your entire life,” Yeji remarks.

“And why does your plan only come up to 40 years old?” 

Sunwoo knows the answer, but he asked anyway. “Duh. I plan on dying by then.” You immediately shut down their looks of worry because they say anything else. “Either from a car crash or through natural causes. I don’t want to die as an old lady. I need to be pretty on my deathbed.”

They’re not looking at you any better. “You’re completely abnormal,” she tells you.

“And what the hell makes you think you’d naturally die at that age?” he spouts.

“I don’t know, the sinking standard of living? The crashing global economy? The increasingly precarious geopolitical landscape? Fucking climate change?” you grunt, finishing the glass in your hand. “We’d be lucky if the world doesn’t end in twenty-years. Maybe I’d have to adjust my timeline.”

Your two friends continue to prattle about how viscerally insane you are, and you listen but let the words come in one ear and out the other while you tap a finger on the table, waiting for a server to come by so you can order another drink. In the background, mish-mashed with the voices of Sunwoo and Yeji, you heard the restaurant door ringing open. Seems like more freshmen are pouring in. 

“Hi, is this where the public administration majors are partying?”

“Hell yeah, dude! Are you a freshman?”

“Yeah, but I’m from the performing arts department.”

“Who cares, you guys come on in!”

“Sweet!”

There’s nothing sweet about getting your plans derailed. As far as you remember, you’ve always been hellbent on speeding through life— growing up as quickly as you can so you live and die on your own terms. You moved out from your home in Gwangju to attend high school in Seoul. You gradually stopped asking for support from your parents when you got into BNDU with a full-ride. And you’re pretty sure the root cause for this insanity (as your dear friends like to put it) is your very formative childhood.

“Whoa. So this is what a college party is like.”

“Hey, don’t get distracted!”

Going back to your dearest mother and her group of high school friends— for three years, you’d also been their honorary daughter. And then another one of your aunties got married shortly after your mom did. It was at age three that you’d already started living for somebody else.

“Darling, come and meet Sungho!”

See, your mother and her friends never really…gave up on their youth. Even in their thirties and forties, even after starting their own families and lives, they always made sure to have Friday brunches at a new restaurant every week, weekend shopping trips and two-day-one night trips by the sea and uphill mountains. Naturally, these girl trips often became family hangouts. Your mom would bring you along, and your mom’s friends would bring along their kids as well.

The thing is, your moms and dads would often do their own thing, loosely supervising the rotational playdates held at someone’s else’s house each time— so you, more often than not, end up being the eldest person in the room that the rest of the kids look up to. 

First, it was just you. Then came Sungho. Followed by Sanghyeok and Jaehyun. And then Dongmin and Donghyun in the same year. You were essentially the person of authority for these five until you were in first grade. 

And then five became six when your mom gave birth to your younger brother—

“Kim Woonhak!”

Wait. The beer glass stops between your teeth. Hold on. That’s your brother’s name. Why are you hearing his name being yelled out in this restaurant? Why does that voice yelling his name out loud sound so disconcertingly familiar?

“Woonhak! We found your sister!”

Your drink dribbles back into the glass. Holy shit. That voice is Jaehyun. That’s fucking Myung Jaehyun. Your head shoots up, eyes wide, whipping around the room at the same rate as your heart is spiking, What the hell? Where the hell are they? Better question— what the hell are they doing here? 

“Hey, are you good?” Yeji asks in concern. You wish you could answer with a yes, but the moment your eyes land on one end of the restaurant, you immediately clock the six heads sticking out like six sore thumbs. Oh god. Oh god, no. 

You aren’t even given the chance to get your bearings straight when the other five finally notice where Jaehyun is pointing at. 

Woonhak mouth falls open. “Noona!” Then he starts barreling through the crowd. The other five trail after him, and it’s not a very discreet sight. Your face falls into your hands. Is this a hidden camera prank or something? What the hell even is this?

“Hey, are we about to get accosted?”

“They’re coming over here, do you know them, why are they—”

“Noona.” You pull your face out of your hands, looking up to see your younger brother’s disgruntled face. He’s slammed his hands down on the table— your table, your two friends sitting on the same table. His brows are all scrunched up. His tone is nothing more than a whine when he says, “Why weren’t you answering any of my calls?!”

Ah, crap. You shuffle into your bag and indeed, you find four missed calls from him on your phone. You sigh, rising up from your seat because it doesn’t feel good that you have to look up at him, but even after standing, this kid still has a good amount of height above you. “I didn’t notice it vibrating, I’m sorry, but Woonhak, but what—” You eyes flicker to the head popping out from behind Woonhak’s right shoulder— a silly smile and an equally silly wave from Jaehyun. You let out a sound and drop your head down, a finger massaging your right temple. “What…what are you guys doing here? Why are you here?” 

“Noona! This party is so sick!”

Jaehyun is quickly followed by Sanghyeok, who quickly jumps out from behind your brother, waving and jumping and very happy to see you. Next to him is Sungho, who’s looking very apologetic as he yanks on Donghyun’s jacket collar, who’s already starting to wander away, attention fished by your peers doing tabletop karaoke somewhere.

And then there’s Dongmin.

“Noona.”

The moment he steps forward, you’re prompted to look up. 

There’s a smile on his face— quiet and playful, the same hint of mischief mirrored in his downturned eyes. A pair of glasses are perched on his nose, but the most prominent thing you notice is something else. 

It’s the fact that he’s now looking down at you. You don’t remember having to look this high up just to meet Han Dongmin’s eyes. 

“It’s good to see you again.”

“Who...who gave you permission to get this tall?”

It’s enough that your brother already towers over you. Now this guy thinks it’s funny that you have to look up to him. But you can’t linger on this injury for too long because a sudden wave of whispers break from around you. You flinch, eyes peering to the side to see your peers and juniors gazes fixed on you in the center of the room. Your face burns. 

“I told you I could sniff her down,” Jaehyun proudly declares.

“Yeah, that’s on brand.”

“Is that a pool table over there? Donghyun, let’s play a round, lets—”

“Noona, I’m so sorry,” Sungho solemnly mutters. “I told them we’d wait somewhere else until you answered Woonhak’s calls, but they insisted on looking for you.”

Oh, this is dizzying. You catch from the flicker of your eye Yeji mouthing that maybe you should take this outside, and you couldn’t agree more. You mutter a few muddled somethings and usher the boys out from the suffocating humidity and warm lights of the restaurant, dragging them into the dewy and cold streets of nighttime Seoul. 

It gets significantly quieter. You find a spot under a planted dogwood oak on the walkway, the six boys sitting down and huddled up on the tree bench while you look at them, arms crossed and toes tapping. “None of you have answered my question yet,” you start with an exhale. “What are you doing here?”

Seeing them all together is like a sucker punch to the gut of guilt. When was the last time you’d seen this complete idiot ensemble? Four years ago? The one summer you spent at home in Gwangju before moving out for the second time for university? But even then you’d only see at least two of their faces once a week— except your own brother of course whom you had to wake up every morning each day else he’d sleep in until noon.

God, you’re pretty sure they were still a bunch of twerps back then, though. It irks you that even while sitting down, half of them are still kind of at eye-level with you.

“Why else would we be at the university district?” Jaehyun proudly sticks his nose out. “We’re also BNDU students. We’re here to party!”

“I’m sorry what?” you sputter. “BNDU students, what— what do you mean? Are all of you studying here? This year”

“Yeah!” Sanghyeok affirms. “

“Woonhak, you haven’t even graduated high school yet, what the hell are you talking—”

“Hey, c’mon now! Let them join us! There are plenty of drinks to go around!”

Maybe you should’ve picked somewhere farther away from the restaurant because one of your classmates— clearly inebriated— decides to butt into your business and invite your group of sparkly-eyed boys to something they obviously can’t refuse, like they’re being lured in by a pied piper.

It’s an inevitable mess. Jaehyun has already made at least seven friends from your major. Yeji is trying to hit on Sungho, who’s been trying to run away, red in the face. Sunwoo keeps on passing drinks to Sanghyeok and Donghyun and you make them tell you their addresses before they pass out beyond comprehension. And you’re keeping an eye on Woonhak like an eagle on the hunt for prey. 

“Ow!” he yelps when you smack his hand the moment his sneaky hand tries to reach out for a beer glass.

“Don’t you even dare.”

He grumbles. “C’mon! I’ll be an adult soon anyway!”

You leer at him. Woonhak continues to grumble while being locked down on the seat next to you because you can’t trust your damn peers to know that this kid is a minor. Dongmin has also decided to join you on this table— and the fact that he’s sitting right across from you, cross-armed and relaxed, makes it impossible to ignore the mischief playing on his grin, clearly directed at you.

“What?” you ask him pointedly.

“I was just thinking,” he hums, cocking his head to the side as if he’s trying to investigate something on your face. “You’re gotten a lot grumpier since I’ve last seen you. Is that an effect of aging?”

Your blood pressure simply cannot get higher. “Dongmin, you lot are already on thin ice.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, raising two hands up in surrender. “But don’t worry, noona. You’ll still be pretty even when you turn sixty.”

This fucking kid, you swear. You catch your head in your hands with a defeated groan, not bothering to give him a response. You just had to be stuck with the most stressful one, even while growing up because sure, Jaehyun had the energy of eight toddlers in one body. Sure, Donghyun would suddenly hold you at gunpoint with questions about the universe and the solar system of which your middle school aged brain did not have the answers to. Sure, you’d get a heart attack trying to keep watch on Sanghyeok in case he pulled another flying stunt on the stairs and landed himself in the hospital again. But out of all the boys Han Dongmin was the one you’d always dreaded to babysit the most because—

“Noona,” he tries calling out to you as you continue to question your life choices while counting the crumbs on the table. “Noona? Hello? Can’t believe you’re gatekeeping your face from me after I called you pretty.”

—he’s always been way too blunt and brazen. To the point that even he manages to get under your thick skin.

“I still haven’t gotten a good enough answer as to why you six decided to hunt me down,” you nag him, diverting the conversation. “Do you plan on telling me now or wha—”

“Seonbae!”

Your interrogation gets interrupted by the arrival of a few of your female juniors, taking the liberty to sit around your table as well. Second years. Sophomores. They come to greet and congratulate you on your internship. You thank them with a smile and wait for the actual kicker— coming in the form of a whisper from the junior who grabbed a chair from the other booth to nudge herself next to you.

“Can…can you introduce me to the guy in front of you?”

You press your lips together to mask your amusement. You’ve got no reason to say no and stop a show from unfolding— and maybe you’d be able to get something to tease Han Dongmin with this time and finally instill some revenge— but once you finish your quick introductions and step back from the conversation, you’re pretty surprised to see the sudden 180 of his usual playful demeanor, and the sudden drop in his expression that you almost don’t recognize the man before you.

“Dongmin-ah,” your poor junior tries to test out his name.

“Just call me Taesan,” he suddenly corrects in a less than friendly tone. 

You try to look at Woonhak for an answer to this change in behavior, but he’s busied himself with a game on his phone because you’d been policing all his fun tonight (his accusation, not yours), and when you shift your attention back to the two, the atmosphere had become absolutely, incorrigibly frigid within the few seconds that you were looking away.

“Is it a nickname? What does it mean?”

“Nothing much.”

“Ah, well, then, what’s your major?”

“I’m undecided.”

“O—oh, uh, where— where did you get your jacket? It looks so cool!”

“My grandpa gave it to me before he passed away.”

You physically wince at that one. You’re pretty sure most of those are lies because last you heard his grandpa is very much alive and kicking, but damn. He’s an impenetrable shield. You peer at your left and notice your junior visibly getting red and embarrassed. You’d like to step in and save her from any more of this, but she’s just as determined as Dongmin— on opposite ends of the battlefield.

“What’s your IG user, Taesan-ah? Let’s follow each other!”

“I don’t do social media.” 

“Th–then— then, how about your num—”

“Seonbae,” Dongmin cuts her off. “I’m sorry, but I think I’ve made it pretty clear that I’m not interested in you.”

Holy shit, what is this kid doing?

The tension is palpable. You’re pretty sure the surrounding tables have caught a whiff of the back and forths as well because the diameter around you is weirdly quiet for a party. What’s worse is that he’s now looking at you as if you’re part of the conversation, staring at you with a glimmer in his eyes that’s all too familiar when he’s plotting to stir up some trouble— a tell that he never outgrew since was like six.

He smiles. It’s a targeted smile. He looks straight at you when he says, “Right, noona?”

“What?” you croak in alarm. “Why are you dragging me into this?”

“Don’t play dumb now.” You receive a nudge by the foot from underneath the table. You don’t need to duck and look under to figure out the culprit. “How can I be interested in anyone else when I already confessed to you. And four years later, you still haven’t replied.

To say that you’re bewildered right now is an understatement. “Dongmin, what are you— what…what?” All your intellect and you can’t even begin to formulate a response. He just saying this like he’s reciting the national anthem. He’s insane. 

And the way he’s looking at you right now tells you exactly that he finds your flabbergasted expression absolutely hilarious.

Dongmin lets out a huff and rests his arms on the table to lean forward, closing in the gap between you into barely half an arms length, all while doused in all the smugness of the world. “I don’t know about the other guys, but I came to see you with one goal in mind,” he says. And then, with the tilt of his head, continues, “Don’t you think it’s about time you give me a response, noona?”

A chorus of ooooh’s breaks out from all your surroundings. Your face is as hot as the sun, but what you’re currently feeling is incomparable to the sheer and visible mortification emanating from your junior. Woonhak starts to make gagging and barfing noises from the right of you. You’re far too taken aback to tell him off to do anything about it— to do anything about this, in general.

“Woonhak-ah, you might end up calling me brother-in-law one day, you know.”

“I’d rather die.”

To add onto the absurdity of it all, the remaining four start to make even more of a mess.

“Noona! Look over here! I can do a trick shot!”

“Hey, who vomited in the bathroom sink?!”

Which leads you to the very sound conclusion—

“I think…I think it’s time we all head home.”

Unfortunately for you, the night isn’t over yet. You still have to make sure your five non-blood-related idiots make it back home in one piece. 

Sungho is fortunately still mostly sober, so he assured you that he can walk Jaehyun back to their shared apartment that’s just within the same neighborhood. Sanghyeok and Donghyun live in the opposite direction from you, so book an Uber for them and watch as Sanghyeok tosses his passed out roommate into the backseat before waving you goodbye. “You owe us a meal for ghosting us, noona!”

“Go take a shower first, vomit breath!” you yell back, then turn to the remaining sheep in your herd the moment the car drives off. “And you?”

For your sake and his, you forget all the nonsense Han Dongmin was spewing earlier. He just wanted to get your junior off his tail that badly.

“I’ll walk you two home first,” he replies. “I didn’t drink so I can get home just fine. But you— tsk. Probably can’t say the same for you, noona.”

“You—” 

With a sharp inhale, you try to reach for his neck, but you realize you can’t give him a noogie anymore since he’s now a whole head taller than you. Dongmin notices what you were trying to do, and just as well notices that you’re annoyed because you no longer can. So, he dips his head down closer to your level. He provokes with that slight squint of his eyes that feign innocence, accompanied by the upturned corners of his lips.

You stare at him. You sigh. And then you push him back by the forehead using two fingers. 

“Quit acting smooth, you’re literally a toddler.”

Somehow, he makes no attempt to egg you further and settles with laughing alongside your strides across the street, fixing the bangs you messed up while his other arm latches around Woonhak’s shoulders. Your brother verbally protests and whines but makes no actual effort to shove him off as you make your way back to your apartment building. 

“Did you tell mom you’re staying over?” you ask Woonhal, climbing up the staircase to your floor. Your question, for some reason, causes him to stumble on the very last step, your eyes narrow at him.

This is suspicious. That much is apparent because he’s desperately trying to avoid your scrutinizing glare right now. Dongmin gives him a little nudge to answer before your patience runs out. Woonhak gulps. “Haha, well, she knows.”

Not good enough. “Kim Woonhak, what are you hiding?”

“W-w-well—”

He doesn’t need to finish replying because you get your answer in the form of a very familiar suitcase parked right in front of your apartment door. It has around a dozen keyrings and PopMart figures chained everywhere possible. Your head snaps at Woonhak. He immediately tries to shield himself with his arms.

“I didn’t get kicked out!” he loudly explains. “Mom and dad let me transfer to a high school in Seoul!’

They what?

Woonhak takes your lack of immediate response as an opportunity to continue squeaking out an explanation. “They—they said I could live with you while I study here and, uh—”

You can feel it— the blood rushing to your head, you can absolutely feel it. You try to close your eyes and take in deep breaths to keep it down but it’s no use. Despite all this, Woonhak continues digging his grave with caution.

“And I…I start school on Monday, so…haha…”

Yup. No use. Woonhak flinches when you move a step closer. Dongmin tries to calm you down with a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t get too angry—” But you smack his hand away and snap your eyes up at him. His smile twitches nervously. “Whoa, haha. Woonagi, your sister has gotten pretty scary.”

That sort of knocks you out of your temper. At least just a little bit. “I’m not angry,” you grit between your teeth. “Dongmin, go home. It’s getting late. And you.” You turn over to the guilt ridden Woonhak once more, completely avoiding eye contact with you with his hands behind his back. You sigh in an attempt to relax. “Get inside and unpack your things. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

my youth is free. © hannie-dul-set, 2025.

[bbina]

it was pouring by the time you stepped foot out of zhong inc.

"shit" you curse under your breath, holding your bag above your head as you take a good look between the distance of where you were standing at and the bus stop

thank fucking god that the company's location was just right by a bus stop so you wouldn't have to worry about getting even more drenched

taking a deep breath and mentally preparing yourself, you bolted towards the bus stop with your bag above your head. the same bag that had your work laptop, a bunch of printed decks and a lot more important papers stuffed inside

you let out a big sigh when you reached the bus stop. your clothes were slowly starting to stick with how drenched you were. your hair sticking to your forehead like a wet dog

this is so humiliating almost but this was on you for forgetting an umbrella. in retrospect, you didn't expect to stay this late nor did you expect that it'd rain

but of course chenle had other plans. a surprise team meeting just a little after your call with just do it co. talking about how he wanted to speed the process up a little because production may take a while

you check the time on your watch that reads it was now 11:43 PM

great, you think to youself, only a few more minutes til the last bus arrives

or so you thought.

a loud crackle erupts from the sky, causing you to jump. followed by heavy platters of rain

"you've got to be fucking kidding me" you cursed outloud, closing your eyes in pure disbelief that only shit like this could happen to you. you being borderline stranded at a bus stop near your office

great. just fucking great.

it was already a long day to begin with, juggling two companies to make sure everything is going well even if the partnership just started. you had to relay messages from your end to another company and hope that they get it right the second time because god forbid your boss would scrap everything the last minute just because he didn't feel the new visuals

suddenly a sleek black car pulls up to the bus stop

the windows slowly roll down and lo and behold, your boss, the same man you don't really want to see before the day ends, in all his glory.

chenle

warm and dry in his car while you were still at the bus stop, wet and cold waiting for a damn bus to come pick you up

"get in" he says over the rain, loud enough for you to hear

you blink. once, twice before shaking your head no

"no thank you. i'm taking the bus"

chenle cocks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. he looks around the empty road then back at you like you just grew a second head

"what bus?"

you purse your lips. gesturing at the bus schedule behind you

"it'll be here soon"

chenle gives you a look that screams 'are you serious right now'

"it's raining. the next bus will probably be here by tomorrow" he points out, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel

"so?"

"so you're just going to wait there?"

"for the last bus to arrive? yes"

"seriously?" chenle deadpans, "just get in" he reaches over to open the passenger door himself

your eyes widened, shaking your head again

"seriously. it's just rain. i can handle myself" you muttered, looking away from chenle hoping and praying that a miracle drives by and a bus actually shows up

"and i'm making sure that my assistant doesn't get sick right off the start of a really important partnership that we just signed. get in the car and i'm not gonna ask twice" chenle says sternly, getting impatient

why were you being so difficult for

"you're carrying the lifeline of this partnership and if that thing gets wet, we have to redo the entire thing and i'm not trying to waste more time" he continues, rubbing his temples. what was so hard about getting in his car anyway under the pouring rain?

"are you seriously threatening me right now over pitch materials?!" you grumbled

"yes i am. don't make me call kun right now since you're being more difficult than hyuck" chenle holds out a menacing finger like that will scare you (kun does scare you a little)

another lightning crackled causing you to jump again. you internally curse yourself for your reaction because now you don't even have a reason to refuse chenle's ride

chenle watches you intently. the way you were starting to shiver and the fact you just jumped off your own skin when the lightning struck. there was no way you were going to say no to his offer now

with a sharp exhale. you surrender

"fine." you murmur, grabbing the straps of your bag tighter around your shoulder as you make your way towards the passenger side of chenle's car and slid in, closing the door behind you immediately

you instantly felt the warmth of the heated leather seats—

"ah shit. your seats—"

"it's fine" chenle cuts you off, shifting the car to drive, "took you long enough to accept my offer"

you fought the urge to roll your eyes. you were in his territory, his car, his space and the fact that he was practically doing you a huge favor

"because i initially didn’t want to" you say, "and i don't want to be indebted to you" you mumbled the last part but chenle catches it and doesn't say anything

after that it was just silent. only the sound of rain pounding against the car as chenle drives onto the highways of seoul

"where do you live?" chenle asks, breaking the silence between the two of you

you wiped your nose with your wet sleeve, not even looking at him when you answer

"you can just drop me off at a convenience store. there's a cu on the way so you can just drop me there. its near"

a moment of silence passes by and you're afraid to look over because this is the same kind of silence he emits when some intern just said the most obvious thing in the world

"are you actually serious right now?" chenle exasperates, now pinching the bridge of his nose

"what? it's near.." you say, attempting to get away from the conversation

"just tell me the address, y/n" chenle huffs, voice going into ceo mode. the voice he uses against people knowing they can't say no to him

with a sigh, you begrudgingly tell him the address

"thank you. now that wasn't hard, was it?" he says sarcastically, inputting your address to the car GPS. when the GPS loads and calculates the time and distance, chenle's eyes go wide

"you live 30 minutes away from the company?" chenle says more of a shocked statement than a question

you feel yourself shrink to the leather seats. it wasn't that far. besides you were used to it and the bus rides are somewhat therapeutic for you after a long day of work or more like dealing with the devil himself, your boss, chenle

"i'm used to it. plus its therapeutic" you shrug, stealing a glance at chenle who kept his eyes on the road

but you two ultimately share eye contact

"therapeutic how? that sounds more tiring than assisting me at work"

"exactly. it's peaceful because i know you aren't on my ass for 30 minutes" you snap back, narrowing your eyes at the boss

chenle snorts, "that's definitely one way to put it"

you grumbled, turning away to look at the window. hoping that this ride end faster

BUSINESS PROPOSAL ᝰ.ᐟ . . . GET IN

✎ . . . things aren't going as planned the way you thought it was going to be. especially the part where you find yourself falling in love with your own boss– which was definitely not part of the agreed proposal.

[ PREV / NEXT ]

✎ AUTHORS NOTE . . . FINALLY. we're finally MOVING

✎ TAGLIST . . . @mrkleelvr @jenodigital @https-dandelion @rik0shii @spacejip @yyangj3lly @multifandomania @taroddori @222brainrot @amouriu @defzcl @va1entinaa @carelessshootanonymous @onlywonb @flaminghotyourmom @do-you-remember-summer-127 @grimlinshere @yayayaiheardyouthefirsttime @hoeingthefuckup @meltinghershey @alwayswook @dutifullyannoyingstrawberrie @dudekiss3r @sibwol @planetmarlowe @morklee02 @httpsxnox @firydst @yuyita-rosier @ayukas @cottonjaems @monomya @neocults26 @greenyweirdo @cinneorolls

[esmedelacroix]

06 - Bitch

synopsis ! he’s an american football player by day and a passionate mathematician by night . she’s a well-rounded historian and writer who couldn’t evaluate a derivative to save her life . they lived in two different worlds but shared the same study room .

previous chapter | series masterlist

cw ! no use of y/n, y/n is _____, fluff, slow burn, college au, ooc sukuna, f!reader, child abuse/neglect, alcohol abuse,

fic radio ! Breakin' Dishes by Rihanna

"Nah, she's a grade-A bitch," he said shrugging of his friends.

Wow. Not even just a bitch. A grade-A bitch? You thought as you stood up from the booth right behind Sukuna's. You and Sukuna had been studying together all week after the party weekend, and he even expressed his gratitude to you for writing his name in on the sign up sheet just in case. It only took him the next week to call you a bitch.

You expected him to have more of a backbone. You had really hoped that Sukuna wasn't one of those guys who were a completely different person when they were with their homies, but he proved you wrong. The same man that held your hair and rubbed your back while you vomitted in his toilet(Yes, you remembered almost everything after a good nap), let you wear his clothes multiple times, tutored you, made sure you were comfortable at breakfast with is frat brothers, and you sometimes caught staring, just called you a bitch to his dumb 'friends.'

The idiot boys at the table were already having a riveting discussion about "loose vaginas" before Sukuna had joined them so you and Shoko already knew you'd be eavesdropping on the most sexist Sal's frat conversation you've ever heard. You just didn't expect Sukuna to stoop down to their level.

You were sort of pleased when he shut down their odd conversation calling their dicks small. The conversation somehow shifted to the most recent party weekend. That was when you were brought into the conversation. The frat dudes described you as a "bitchy straight-A, good girl virgin."

He tried to shut down the conversation with a scoff, but they just kept on going. They told him that someone at a darty saw you and Ryo walking out of the frat early in the morning. You allegedly entered his room the previous night, and people reported hearing curious noises from the hallway. Sukuna dismissed the gossip thankfully but then you heard him call you a "grade-A bitch" saying he would never sleep with you.

Shoko couldn't stand to hear anymore of the chatter and got up. "We don't need to listen to this bull," she mumbled grabbing your hand.

The two of you got up and had to walk past his booth anyway. So you turned to him, shitty matcha in hand and splashed it on his shirt as you spat, "I don't know who you think I am, but you don't get to say that shit about me. You want to see me be a bitch? I can show you a real grade-A bitch." You tossed the empty cup at the two frat guys and sashayed away with Shoko.

Suguru watched the whole exchange from the front door with his mouth hanging open. He was running late on his way to meet you both for lunch. He followed the two of you outside still in shock. "That was badass, _____. I'm proud," Shoko hummed.

"What the fuck happened in there? This is not the _____ I know," Suguru purred, throwing a hand over your shoulder. He whispered in low tone in your ear, "Do you need me to take care of him?" You felt Sukuna's eyes on you through the window. He stayed seated staring as he used the napkins to wipe his shirt. The two frat brothers scurried out of Sal's. "That bitch is fuckin' insane," they hollered loud enough for you to hear.

Sukuna's eyes stay trained on you. On Suguru's lips that lingered too close to your heated ears. He noticed the comfort you felt with Suguru's touch. How you never shuddered whenever he casually touched you. He looked beneath the slightly angered expression taking over your face, under the determination and found hurt. The pain you were feeling was dealt by him.

The three of you went to eat at the dining hall on rare occasion and texted Satoru redirecting him there as well. After everyone sat down with their questionable food and sat down at the table. Shoko finally cleared her throat. "Well, Satoru, you weren't there but, _____, totally poured her drink on Sukuna made a badass speech then left. I gotta ask though, why did you sleep with him? Suguru and I thought he was just going to clean you up and take you to your dorm," Shoko said.

"Hold on, you slept with Ryomen Sukuna?! And Toru, you let that happen?" Suguru asked.

"No no no, you're all confused. Though the rumors are true that _____, was spotted entering his room and leaving our house the next morning in his clothes with him doing a total walk of shame, he told us they didn't do anything. Right, _____?" Gojo defended.

"Well for starters, Sukuna and I did not sleep together. I just slept in his room aparently and vomited everywhere," you clarified.

Suguru asked, "Then why did you totally humiliate him at Sal's? And with that matcha?"

"Oof, not the matcha," Gojo interjected.

"Well when his idiot friends asked him about it, he totally threw me under the bus and called me a bitch so they would like him. I mean what is it with guys and acting completely different around their friends?" you asking picked at your fries.

"I will say I notice that Sukuna tends to care a little too much about his reputation at times," Gojo commented.

"But being romantically associated with _____ isn't a bad thing, no?" Suguru questioned, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head.

"Not at all. You're a good girl, _____. Always getting good grades and shit and top of your class. Never in trouble," Shoko listed.

"But maybe that's it. Maybe I'm so 'good' that I ruin his 'bad boy' image," you concluded.

"What do you mean image? That guy spends all day fucking around in his room, training, or going out to ominous places during the day," Toru said."

"Well, have you ever considered that said, ominous places are maybe, I don't know class?" you suggested a bit annoyed.

Satoru genuinely laughed at that. "Come on, it's Ryo, he's just—that's not his strongest quality."

"What's not his strongest quality?" you challenged.

"School. And being with someone who is good at school, will make him look bad."

"What's so bad about being good at school? What is it about being smart that makes you 'uncool.' I thought we let go of that dumb shit in high school," you said.

"Well, some people have images to keep up. It's how he survives socially," Shoko explained.

"And I don't?" you asked.

"Well, you kind of just stay locked in your room doing school work," Gojo started.

"And we're totally not saying this in a bad way, but we really like you. And we miss you, and we wish you didn't feel the pressure to study so much all the time," Shoko explained.

"I don't get you guys. I think I need to leave." You got up and walked out of the dining hall ignoring them calling out to you. You escaped to the only place that would make you feel comfortable. The library.

It seemed bad because your friends were just telling you that you study too much, but how is that even a thing? People who study all the time will always earn better grades. Sure, you were slipping in the ranks a bit recently and were no longer number one in any academic rankings. You now took second or third place, and that was because you partied and made yourself think that an idiot frat boy like Sukuna wanted you.

It was only after he called you a bitch you were able to take off your rose-tinted glasses. You saw him for what he was. A rude boy who was only ever good at math and needed to use his athleticism to get into college. A guy with anger issues, who probably got it from his deadbeat, drunkard of a mother.

So when he appeared at the glass door of the study room after you ignored his 'can we talk?' text, you opened the door and coldly stated, "Your name isn't on the sign-in so you can't come in.

. . .

-> next part

@minasuniverse @not-a-glad-gladiator @love-me-satoru @sukunawhores @emoedgylord @domainofmarie @sadrna @lazylunarlover @tamishadawn @boudoirbae @river-vixenn @bitchyfestivalbouquet @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @clp-84 @emochosoluvr @yoongithebean @linaaeatsfamilies @magalimachete @chubbydumplingbarnes @katsukiseyebrows @sukubusss @r33m-world @pelicanpizza @mykuronekome @linny-bloggs @your-mum3000 @jayathelostdragon @userr152536367474 @veras-fanfic-reblogs @yuaisen @k0taaaa @nina-from-317 @sukunasrealgf @sukunana12 @synthesame

comment to be added to the taglist !

[deadbydemand389]

Family Functions & Public Vibrations

18+🤭

“YOU BOUGHT ME WHAT—” you shrieked at your soon-to-be-dead boyfriend, Erik.

You couldn’t tell if you were excited or furious—your emotions were ricocheting between planets, not just words.

“Come on, Sweets! It’ll be hot. And fun! Look, it even has an app—I can control it from my phone!”

He waved his cracked-screen Iphone like it was a weapon of seduction.

You were five seconds from using that very phone to strangle him.

“Erik. You’ve lost your entire mind. I am not wearing that to your cousin’s birthday.”

You pointed at the tiny vibrating demon lying innocently on the table, like it wasn’t about to change lives and end relationships.

“Why not?” he grinned. “Afraid you’ll cum and give my uncle a stroke? Come onnn, Peach, pleaaaase.”

The puppy eyes. Classic Erik. Weaponized cuteness with a hint of chaos.

You hated that it was working.

The thought of him having remote access to your sanity, while everyone else was just eating cake and singing “Happy Birthday,” was equal parts horrifying and… really, really hot.

“If it’s too much, we stop. You know the safe word,” he said, all smooth and reassuring.

As if his actual goal wasn’t to absolutely destroy you emotionally, spiritually, and pelvic-floor-ally.

This was his evil little plan: insert that devil toy into your panties and turn your life into a horny round of Flappy Bird.

See how long you last before you crash into the wall of your own self-respect.

You inhaled like you were preparing for war.

“If I do this…”

His eyes widened. You had him.

“…you’ll have to do whatever I say next time we fuck.”

Your voice dropped into demonic territory. Satan would’ve been proud.

“No. Nope. Absolutely not. Last time you almost got my ass arrested—I’m not fucking in an open field ever again!”

He looked personally offended, which only made you giggle.

You had suggested doing it in the football bleachers of your old high school at night. Not your fault the security guard had a taser and Erik’s cardio game was trash. That’s on him.

“Then no toy. Deal’s off.”

You spun on your heel and headed toward the bedroom, knowing he’d fold faster than cheap laundry.

You’d been begging him to try roleplay for months, but he always pulled the same line:

“I’m not playing a vampire, I barely have self-respect as it is. So no, Bella, fuck off.”

And right on cue—

“FINE!” he shouted. “Jesus, you’re such a sneaky brat.”

He huffed like a man already regretting every choice he’d ever made involving you.

You beamed like Satan in fishnets.

“We’re gonna have so much fun,” you purred. “I’ll send you the script when we get back.”

And just like that, game on.

By the time you got to the car, the tiny pink monster was already tucked in your underwear, humming like a devilish lullaby against your skin. Erik, of course, was grinning like he’d just rigged the lottery.

“Seatbelt, baby,” he whispered, all innocent, like he wasn’t about to take you to war.

You shot him a look that said I will kill you and lie convincingly to the police.

But you buckled up anyway.

You had barely pulled out of the driveway when the first vibration hit—just a little bzzzz, like a test. You jolted in your seat.

“Erik.”

Warning voice. Cold. Dangerous.

“Hmm? I didn’t do anything.”

He held up his hands like a choirboy. Never mind that his phone screen was open to the app and his thumb was hovering.

“I swear to God, if you hit max in traffic—”

“Who, me?”

bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

You slapped his shoulder so hard the steering wheel swerved a little.

“ERIK.”

He laughed so hard he almost swerved again.

You made it to his cousin’s birthday without killing him, but only because you were 0.3 seconds away from orgasm in the middle of a McDonald’s drive-thru. The stakes were biblical.

At the party, you smiled and waved like a wholesome girlfriend. Inside? You were one rogue buzz away from turning the backyard into an adult film.

“Hey, sweetheart,” his aunt said, handing you a plate of cake.

You were mid-thank-you when Erik sent a burst—short, sharp, sudden.

Your knees buckled.

You fake-coughed. Twice.

“Thanks, I—wow, that frosting is… really intense.”

His aunt blinked. “It’s store-bought.”

You gave a deranged little laugh and fled.

In the corner of the yard, behind a sad inflatable bounce house, you hissed through clenched teeth:

“You are a SICK man.”

Erik had the nerve to smirk.

“You’re still dry-humping cake in front of my relatives, though. Admit it—you’re loving this.”

You weren’t.

You were also definitely loving this.

“This is sick. Twisted. You’re literally evil.”

bzzzzzzzzz

You grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him into the shadows.

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to rip this thing out and throw it in the punch bowl.”

Erik blinked, surprised. Then his grin widened.

“Or…” he murmured, brushing a hand down your arm, “you could let me win.”

You stared at him, breath shaky, thighs trembling.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because,” he leaned in, lips brushing your ear, “you haven’t even hit level three yet.”

Your legs almost gave out.

Later you were seated at the dinner table, surrounded by balloons, lukewarm pizza, and relatives pretending not to hate each other. Everyone was singing Happy Birthday, off-key, joyfully.

And you?

You were in hell.

You felt Erik’s hand slink under the table, sliding up your bare thigh like a villain in a soap opera.

His palm was warm. His intentions? Illegal.

And getting worse by the second.

His fingers brushed your panties.

The buzzing had started three minutes ago, but now his hand was joining the chaos, climbing higher—dangerously close to blowing up your entire family tree.

“Fuck, Sweets,” he whispered in your ear, voice dripping filth, “seems like you enjoy this toy a little too much.”

You were seconds from spontaneous combustion.

“Erik,” you hissed, “if you touch that phone ag—”

bzzZZZZZZZZZTTTT

You groaned. Audibly. Everyone at the table turned to look.

“Sorry! I thought I stepped on… Paco?”

You blinked, dazed. Face red. Pussy vibrating like an electric toothbrush at war with your self-control.

“OH MY GOD,” Bobby screamed, “WHERE IS PACO?!”

He leapt up from the table, frantically looking for his turtle like it hadn’t been missing since 2019.

Meanwhile, Erik leaned in close and whispered:

“Good girl.”

Your soul left your body.

“Bathroom. NOW.”

He followed you down the hallway like a horny retriever on a leash made of your moans.

The door shut. The lock clicked.

You jumped him, fists tangled in his shirt, lips hovering over his, your body trembling from pent-up desire and pure, unholy wrath.

“You better fuck me numb,” you growled, voice dark, shaking, “because if you turn that toy up one more level, your entire family’s getting a group trauma discount on therapy.”

His eyes darkened.

“Turn around.”

You did.

“Bend over.”

You obeyed.

“Dress up.”

You pulled your skirt higher. No panties. Just the toy. Still alive. Still pulsing.

“Get it out,” you begged, clutching the sink, desperate. “Please—get that thing out of me—”

He groaned. Deep. Devilish.

“Oh, Peach. The toy stays right where it is.”

“WHAT? NO, ERIK—”

But before you could finish the sentence, he slammed into you from behind, hard and fast, one hand over your mouth, the other gripping your hip like he owned it.

He was throbbing inside you—piercing and stretching, pushing the toy deeper, making it vibrate against your walls so hard you couldn’t even remember your own name, let alone your fake excuse for being in the bathroom.

“Let’s see how much you can take, Peach,” he growled, breath hot in your ear.

He reached for his phone—Level 4.

You screamed into his hand. Your legs buckled. Your whole body shook like it had been struck by lightning and left to fry.

He didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. His hips snapped forward, rhythm savage, slamming into you while the toy pulsed and your skin burned. You were melting. Vibrating. Screwed, in every definition of the word.

Then came the knock.

“Hey, Peach? How long are you gonna be in there?”

His mom.

You froze.

Erik smirked into your neck, slowing down just enough to make it worse.

“Come on, baby. Don’t leave her waiting. She’ll think you died in here.”

You gathered what remained of your dignity, your soul hanging by a thread, and shouted:

“In a minute, Mrs. Campbell!”

But right after the words left your lips, Erik slammed back into you with a force that made your brain flicker like a broken lightbulb.

You came.

Hard.

Your body went limp, trembling, your moan muffled by his palm, his lips on your neck, whispering filth like a demon in heat.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, thrusting deep one last time, shuddering as he spilled into you, his grip tight enough to keep you from collapsing .

You were barely conscious, clinging to the sink like it was a life preserver in a hurricane.

“Fuck,” you gasped. “That was… illegal. That was criminal. I need holy water.”

Erik looked smug. High-fived himself mentally. “I knew you’d enjoy it, you freak.”

You looked at him, your lips curling into a wicked smirk.

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

His grin faltered.

“Wait. What does that mean?”

You leaned close, still shaking, makeup smudged, a literal mess.

“Let’s just say… you’ll need a blood transfusion when I’m done with you.”

You winked. Opened the door.

Erik followed behind you, nervous now. Rightfully so.

He looked at your ass, still swaying from the aftermath, and whispered:

"…I should’ve just bought you flowers.”

[feelfreetopleasemexo]

WAIT. WAIT. GET THIS.

Katsuki who has crazy mommy issues x laid back and non judgemental reader who he accidentally calls "mommy" because of how comfortable and safe he feels with her.

He doesn't realise it, but subconsciously, he feels like reader gives him all the soft love, connection and understanding his mother never gave him all his life and one random day while they're hanging out in her room or something, when he goes to adress her he almost slips up calling her "Oi Mom——! OH FUCK— I MEAN-" but then reader being very laid back and non judgemental assures him she do not give a fuck and thinks it's super cute he sees her that way

you can totally make this into a smut where he finds out he has a mommy kink and reader tells him its okay and whatever😝

Anyway your writing is so fire and you're super pretty too LOVE YA💋🩷

Oh my fuck, yes i actually love this!! And thank you so much, means the absolute world to me! 😭🥰

A simple slip of the tongue.

What people see when they look at Katsuki:

-standoffish

-asshole

-loud mouth

-brutal

-aggressive

What you see when you look at him:

-passionate

-fiercely loyal

-protective

-honest

-god damn Adonis

It’s one of the many reasons why you work so well together as a couple, where others see his rough exterior, you see the reasons behind it. When it’s just you two he can let his guard down a little, which means you get much more of an insight into his actual personality, quips, troubles and all. Katsuki didnt have the worst childhood in your friendship group, but that doesn’t negate the fact that his mother didnt exactly show him the softest forms of love. Dont get me wrong, she tried her best in the way she knew how, but just because someone punches you in the face as their way of saying they love you, doesn’t mean it still doesn’t hurt like fuck still.

When katsuki got drunk, he got more honest with you, which is the only reason you knew so much about his home life to begin with. It started off with tiny remarks, youd cuddle him into your chest and play with his hair, and hed let out tiny moans and almost inaudible ‘I never got this as a kid’ confessions. First hed get embarrassed that they’d slip out, jump away from you and scorn, but when he saw that every time he’d confess something youd smooth him back to your chest and continue, completely unfazed, the easier it became to open up. He’d never tell you out right , but it was the number one reason he loved you, close second being your deliciously plump ass, he knew that no matter what he threw at you, youd accept him, comfort him, and above all else, love him.

You were in the kitchen, fixing yourself some tea and him some disgustingly spicy noodles which hed demanded he needed after that torturous lecture from Aizawa, when all of a sudden your phone rang. Mina was calling you, hounding you for the notes from the lecture as she definitely had not fall asleep half way through, and definitely did not miss every single thing that Aizawa was talking about. You rolled your eyes as you humoured her, detailing all the important topics that everyone else had managed to write down, when Katsuki began to call for you.

“BABE! Are those noodles done yet? IM DYING IN HERE!….BABE?! Oi! MOM….fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck.” The simple slip of the tongue made your heart hitch in your throat, luckily Mina hadn’t heard it and was continuing to trail on about how none of the topics made sense, and how she was sure that she was going to fail the class. You laughed slightly to yourself, the warm familiar feeling rising in your chest which usually came from when Katsuki would drunkenly confess, only this time he was stone cold sober, and this definitely didnt mean to come out. You carried on the conversation with Mina, wrapping it up as Katsuki sheepishly peered his head around the corner of the door. You didn’t even look at him, when you finished with Mina and hung your phone up, you waltzed back over to the noodles and continued stirring them. He stared at you for what felt like an eternity, your body almost moving in slow motion as he gauged whether youd heard him screaming like a banshee or not. He watched your hips sway, you voice hum gently and your hair trailing down the sides of your back.

When the food was ready, you span around and jolted slightly at him peering at you from behind the wooden doorframe.

“Hey baby, sorry it took so long! Mina was kinda yapping so I had to help her out, but here! As spicy as I could physically mark them you mad man.” Your smile warmed the embarrassment in his chest, his shoulders still tense and his jaw as tight as ever, he grabbed the bowl from you with both hands and stared down at it.

“Oh yeah that’s cool, no er, no worries. I was just shouting to see if they were done i, I didn’t realise you were on the phone.”

His eyes stared at the noodles as if theyd personally offended him, ratted him out to you about his slip of the tongue. You kissed the side of his cheek and smiled up at him, causing his eyes to meet yours. Your smile was the sweetest, softest thing hed ever seen, and on more than one occasion was the reason for the confessions in the first place. You tilted your head and giggled softly at him, as he stared at you like a deer in headlights, an angry, embarrassed, fire wielding deer, but still. You walked past him with your tea in one hand, your other grazing gently over his bicep as you past him, sitting down and crossing your legs on your bed as if to invite him to sit infront of you. He walked over to you and perched on the end of the bed, facing you, with his shoulders still stiff, and his clenched jaw causing his cheek muscles to shake.

“I, er….I appreciate it. I appreciate you. Glad you didn’t hear what I said earlier…” his voice became soft, almost a whisper as he cherished the fact you were on the phone call. You stared down as you drank some of your tea, your eyes fixed on the swirls your breath created.

“I heard you. And I don’t care.” His eyes shot to yours, embarrassment and angry filling his face, he grasped the bowl so tightly it nearly scattered under his palms.

“You fucking heard me?! I didn’t mean it, shit, I just…” You leaned over, placing a delicately understanding kiss on his lips, rendering him speechless.

“Kats, I don’t give a shit. I call people mom or sis all the time, shit happens. Brains are weird and mouths are too… but I must say, yours is particularly weird when you do that thing with your tongue that i like.” He couldnt believe you didn’t care, he knew you were nonchalant and understanding but this? After all the times he’d complained to you about his mom, and then calling you her? What was wrong with you?! And what the hell did he do to deserve someone so kind, so understanding, so fucking nice. It baffled him that you seemed so unfazed, so much so that he missed the clear hint of flirting in your voice. You pressed another kiss to his lips, moving slightly closer to him.

“Thought it was kinda hot to be fair, you thinking of me like that. Do you want me to take care of you? Show you how much I love you, baby?” His cheeks became more flushed, his eyes widened at your blatant change in demeanour. Why did the thought of you getting off on him calling you mom cause such a tight feeling in his stomach? Why did you acting like you liked it make his trousers suddenly feel instantly tighter…He tried to shake it off, tried to reassure himself you were just being your usual understanding, kind self, but as soon as you set your drink down and sat yourself in his lap, he knew something was awakening in him.

“Oh fuck, why do you have to have the fucking mommy kink? Denki having it? That’s a no brainer, Deku? Yeah sounds about it, but you? God fuck baby girl, why did I have to pick such a perv?” His eyes softened as you giggled at him, throwing your head back and laughing, only to the bring your forehead to his as you cooed softly.

“Yeah baby, it’s me that has it. All me. Fuck it, I’ll take whatever you can’t right now, as long as it means you call me mommy again.”

[kyokeiii]

bully. hawks / afab!reader. subtop!hawks. smut.

for all his talk about “going over easy,” keigo takami can’t cum unless you’re mean to him.

don’t get it twisted—he loves it when you’re sweet. that gentle smile on your lips, the way your eyes soften around the edges...he’s a sucker for it. for just about everything about you, really. if time allowed, he could idle entire weeks away just imagining you, his belly a riot of butterflies, a soppy grin on his face.

it’s not his fault that you’re just so...intense when you’re mean to him. when that adoring light fades from the edges of your expression and you look down at him from under your lashes, nose scrunched ever so slightly in scorn. it gets him going. one off look from the corner of your eye is enough to make him ache.

he gets into it. keigo’s no stoic statue, whose breathing hardly quickens when he’s close. he’s loud. he begs. and if his eyes gloss over with tears at a particularly harsh word? don’t mind it. you can bet that his dick is just as wet and sticky—or likely even more so, if you’ve done your job right.

almost from the second he sinks into you, eyes rolling back at the exquisite heat around his twitching cock and the sparks of pleasure in the pit of his stomach, he’s sniffling. he moans your name, rocking back and forth in shallow, stuttering cants of his hips, mouth hanging open as if he’s tasting the nectar of the gods, tears bubbling on his lashes.

“p-please,” he begs, clutching at your soft thighs, and he thinks you look gorgeous like this, spread out on the pillows with your legs open, your lips pressed together as you look up at him with the faintest hint of a scowl already turning the corners of your mouth down. not for nothing—keigo’s a good boy. his thumb is pressing gently against your clit even as he moves sloppily inside you, drunk on your cunt.

when you don’t answer, he mewls, circling your sensitive bud with the pad of his finger, your slick wetting his warm skin, trying to get a reaction out of you. “i’m being good, right? i’m being good f’you, i’m trying, ’s just—you feel so fuckin’ good, i can’t h-help it—” you haven’t given him permission to move yet, but he’s thrusting in sloppy figure-eights anyways, groaning as your silky walls flutter around his dick.

call him pathetic. mock his size, even though it’s nothing to snub your nose at. give him a few taps on the cheek to watch him melt into more of a sniveling mess than he already is, if you want. it doesn’t matter. keigo is holding you by the hips and whining into your neck, mumbling sorrys and i love yous and you feel so good, your pussy feels so good, baby, i need you—all the while driving into you, and you put up no resistance at all, wet enough that the obscene squelch of his fat dick stuffing you to the brim is louder even than keigo’s noisy whimpering.

your work here is done. another few well-placed taunts here and there, and keigo will fill you up until you’re shaking, your back arching prettily off the mattress, crying his name.

he’ll make sure you finish two, three, four times before he even thinks about shooting his load, fat ropes of sticky white that fill you right to the brim and drip out of your stretched-out pussy as he fucks his cum back into you, babbling about being only yours, doing anything for you, loving you.

and despite his pitiful whimpering, words choked around deep groans that shudder in his chest and scrape in his throat, he won’t stop until you’ve milked him dry, and then he’ll pull out and draw you into his chest and praise you some more with his arms around you and his face tucked against your hair.

keigo is a good boy, after all. he means what he says.

[xxmcr05xx]

When the Sun Hits | Anakin Skywalker x f!Reader

Summary: Anakin doesn't know how to cope so he goes to his fwb.

Warnings/Contains: Friends with benefits, virginity loss, flashbacks, making out, groping, dry-humping, hickeys, cunnilingus, fingering (f! receiving), orgasm, nipple play, nipple licking, friends to lovers, dacryphilia, praise kink, doggy style, cowgirl position

WC: 3,877

Originally posted: 02/06/25 on AO3!

Title Song: When the Sun Hits - Slowdive

18+ MDNI

Divider by @uzmacchiato

Anakin was curled up in bed.

He had been feeling quite low for the past couple of days now, war was looming and he know he shouldn't be scared - he's a Jedi for fuck sake! Nonetheless, he still felt paralyzed in his bed. Anakin just wanted one girl: his best friend F/N. The two had been friends ever since Anakin was a young padawan - the two first meeting on Naboo as the queen's younger sister.

After their initial meeting, the two became inseparable, talking to each other almost every week and when they were lucky enough, spent their free time together doing who knows what. That was years ago now and the two have grown older, both 23 to be exact. There was a shift in their relationship, and it happened when they were celebrating F/N's 19th birthday.

"Happy birthday, F/N!" Anakin cheered, walking up to the girl and giving her a big hug.

"Ani! Aah I was wondering when you," F/N greeted back, keeping her arms wrapped around his waist, "everyone is in the main hall partying right now, but I don't want of that. Honestly, it was Padmé's idea to host the party, oddly enough, Sola was also enthusiastic as well about the party," F/N sighed out, letting go of the hug, "honestly, I wanted to just have you over put she insisted."

Anakin let out a small chuckle, "You're a very lucky girl, F/N. C'mon, let's go say hi to some people then maybe we can go up to your room, 'kay?" Anakin suggested, F/N pouted but gave a nod anyway, walking together to the main hall. When they arrived, music was playing loudly, the decor was F/N's edgy taste of darker colours - with some lighter decorations sprinkled in thanks to her sister's.

In the distance, Padmé spotted the two and perked up, walking over and waving, "Anakin! A pleasure to see you," Padmé greeted, giving the man a small side-hug, "F/N does NOT shut up about you, y'know I think she'd like you for her bir-" Padmé was interrupted with F/N slapping her hand over her mouth, clearly embarrassed. Anakin raised an eyebrow at Padmé's statement, but didn't think too much of it

"That's enough, Padmé, shut up," F/N growled through her teeth, "anyway.... can I go to my room now? Everyone's been her for like five hours now; I'm extremely tired," I whined out.

Padmé gave her younger sister an empathetic look and nodded, "You guys are free to go up, I just hope you're having a good birthday, sister," she said softly, rubbing F/N's arm.

"I am, Padmé, thank you."

F/N then grabbed Anakin's excitedly and waved goodbye to her sister, Anakin was taken aback a bit with F/N's sudden gesture, but just followed her anyway. "Man, I am just so glad you're here, Ani, this party was just a bore," F/N complained as they made their way to F/N's room.

"Mmm I'm sure it is, F/N. It was all you were complaining about for the past couple of days," the boy replied, rolling his eyes a little with a small grin.

"Excuse me, Anakin, I NEVER complain," F/N replied back with a matter-of-fact tone that made Anakin snicker a little.

The pair finally made their way to F/N's room, it was decorated with a lot of posters, as well as a lot of water colour paintings that the girl had done. F/N went to her vanity and started to take out her hair pins, "Can you believe what they did to my hair, Ani? I would never allow myself to have it all pinned up and curled, but Padmé HAD to insist I have it up - she even asked her stupid servants to do it up..." The blond man nodded softly, he was sat on F/N bed, looking over at the girl as she casual-fied herself.

F/N talked nonstop for about thirty minutes about the party as she changed out of her party attire and into something more comfortable. She walked behind the room divider to change, complaining about her sister and how she found it annoying that her parents had told her to live in the palace with her queen sister, but her other sister got to stay at home.

Moonlight peered out of the windows, it was at just the right angle that Anakin could see F/N naked silhouette. His eyes widened slightly as he could see her undress, unaware that Anakin could see her so well while she continued to chat. Anakin had these thoughts about F/N before: when he was just hitting puberty he saw her at a different angle of teenage lust. As a Jedi he couldn't do anything and tried very hard to suppress those feelings - ultimately failing at some times.

Anakin cleared his throat to clear his mind as F/N walked out from the divider, dressed in her pyjamas now. "- and so I'm just deciding not to talk to them again. Such a lazy coward," F/N huffed out, sitting on the bed next to Anakin, "I hope that you're enjoying yourself, Anakin," the girl asked, crossing her legs and laying on her back.

"O-Oh yeah I'm okay. Actually, I did get you a gift," Anakin replied back, F/N looked up and pouted, "I know I know, you didn't want a gift but I felt bad... you are nineteen now, after all," Anakin reached into his pocket and held a jewelry box in his hand. F/N gasped a little and sat up, looking at Anakin. "Happy birthday," Anakin whispered, giving the box to F/N.

When she opened it up, the box revealed a gorgeous gold chain, in the middle that gold continued to weave over a polished chalcedony crystal. "Wow, Anakin, I don't know what to say..." F/N looked up at Anakin with soft eyes, "thank you." Anakin smiled back as F/N took the necklace out of the box, wearing it over her neck.

"It looked gorgeous on you, F/N," Anakin mumbled, playing with the sleeve of his robe as F/N admired it.

"Where did you even get something like this?" F/N asked, looking closely at the crystal.

Anakin chuckled and looked away nervously, "Don't worry, F/N. As long as you're happy with it." The girl looked up at Anakin and smiled softly, she wriggled a bit closer to him and hugged him tightly, repeating another quiet thank you as they hugged. Anakin was taken aback a bit but hugged her back anyway. He could feel her breath on his neck and the smell of her perfume strongly.

The two moved away from the hug and stared at each other, Anakin looked into her eyes with a deep compassion while F/N had a strong sense of need. "Anakin..." F/N whispered, she had a small crease near her eyebrow - Anakin knew that look, she would do that subconsciously when she wanted something.

"Yes, F/N?"

F/N gulped and looked to the side, suddenly feeling extremely hot and bothered when looking at Anakin. "Thank you for making my birthday special... I... I don't know what to say or do," She let out with a small voice. Anakin could sense it on her, something about the situation they were in right now made their usually relaxed relationship suddenly tensed up.

"Can you feel it?" F/N asked.

She looked back up at him with desperate eyes, she was feeling things that she shouldn't about her best friend but Anakin could sense it in her head. F/N wanted Anakin in a more-than-friendly way and Anakin could sense it. The blond gulped and looked back at her, "I can't... I'm a Jedi," Anakin muttered back, but he didn't care, he knew that he was lying - they both knew that he was lying.

"We can still be friends, I still want to be your friend, Ani."

The use of his nickname in that moment flooded Anakin with a sense of stronger lust.

"Still friends?"

"Still friends."

Anakin moved closer now, he basically entrapped F/N between his legs, his hands moved to her cheek, feeling her warm face. Neither of them had ever been close like this before, they hadn't even been like this with another person. "Tell me to stop..." Anakin whispered, his other hand grazing down her arm now.

But F/N didn't.

She shook her head and moved her own hand over his own that was on her cheek, "I need you right now, Ani."

It was all Anakin had to hear, he slowly guided F/N to lay down on her bed and crawled on top of her, basically caging her with his arms and legs. F/N had this insatiable look in her eyes as Anakin stared down at her - they both knew it was wrong but it wouldn't change anything, right?

Anakin leaned down at moved the hair out of her face, whispering 'thank you's' and how much he's thought about this. His lips trailed from her jaw and right near her lips. He looked back at her with permission, but she had that look in here eyes that said 'just take me' - so Anakin did that.

Their lips met softly, kissing passionately as Anakin held her face. The two friends moaned out softly so Anakin took that moment to slip his tongue out to graze against F/N's lips, she opened her mouth slightly and let Anakin taste her. The taste and sensation of F/N against him was overwhelming, he had never felt this turned on in his life.

Small moans left F/N's mouth as Anakin's hand moved down her shoulders now, teasing her as they neared her tits. Anakin could sense that she liked that so he moved his hands to her tits over her pyjama shirt, his hands groped her ever-so slightly which made F/N moan a bit louder in her mouth.

His hands trailed underneath her shirt, feeling her bare chest now with both his hands.

The scene in front of him was overwhelming when he moved away from her lips: her shirt tugged above her tits, hair sprawled and messy, and her face pink and flustered. Anakin stared at his hands and sighed, rubbing her chest again with his thumbs. "Fuck, I really just want to take you..." he whined out.

"Just take me, Ani."

And that's what they did.

Anakin and F/N were each other's first that night.

They continued as friends with benefits after that night.

Years had passed since then and Anakin was now a Jedi knight, he was still best friends with F/N but their relationship was slightly changed now. They were more intimate with each other. Anakin whined out F/N's name sadly, no one was in the room but he was hoping that she would arrive any minute. Just before he laid in bed, he called F/N and asked her to come over.

Five minutes had passed and Anakin heard a knock on the door, the man got up straight away and basically ran to the door. In front of him was his best friend, she was much more mature looking than the first time they were together and it drove Anakin to insanity, he loved her so much. "What's wrong, Ani? Are you okay?" F/N as she walked into the room, he shrugged and closed the door, sitting back down on his bed.

"I'm a Jedi knight and I feel scared," Anakin cried out, he covered his face with his hands and groaned, "I'm a failure of a Jedi knight; what is wrong with me?"

F/N sat down next to Anakin and sighed, placing a hand on his thigh, "You're gonna be fine, Ani. You're the best Jedi knight ever, Anakin. I know that you can do this, we'll make it out in the end." The brunette sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, feeling a lot more calm now.

"Thank you, F/N. I'm a bit embarrassed now," he confessed, looking to the side in embarrassment. This made F/N giggle, she laid down on Anakin's bed and looked over at him.

"We all get like that sometimes, it just makes us human."

Anakin shrugged and muttered an 'I suppose so' under his breath, he looked back up at F/N and frowned with that same need in his eyes. "I just need to get my mind off of it," Anakin mumbled. F/N knew this was a code for 'please just let me fuck you,' so she laughed and sat up.

"Oh, yeah? How so?" F/N teased.

The man pouted and sat up, "You know how..." Anakin muttered, he bit the inside of his cheek, annoyed about her teasing. F/N grinned and shifted close to Anakin, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"You just missed your best friend, didn't you?" F/N whispered into his ear, grinning still. Anakin let out a deep sigh and placed his larger hands over hers.

"Maybe..."

Anakin stared into her eyes and kissed her nose, "Just lay down, let me love you tonight," Anakin begged, rubbing his hands down her shoulders. F/N obeyed his command and laid down on her back, smiling as she kept her eye contact with Anakin. The Jedi groaned softly at the look in her eyes, he could tell that she wanted this just as much he wanted it.

His lips smashed against hers in almost an instant, a total opposite of the first time he made love with her.

They were a total horny mess.

F/N wrapped her legs around Anakin's waist, grinding herself onto the Jedi, which made him whine out loudly. His hands undressed her quite fast, removing his own clothes as well while they still made out. Saliva was dripping down their faces now as their lust for one another grew, Anakin's hands were all over F/N's body now, groping and slapping her tits as his mouth moves down to her clavicle. He couldn't help himself. Anakin bit small love bites on F/N's breasts which made the woman cry out.

"Hhgh, oh my fucking hell, Ani... it's so much!..." F/N whined out.

Anakin growled and sucked harder all over her chest, which started to look like a watercolour painting of purples and reds. "Just let me eat you out, precious," Anakin moaned out, he kept eye contact with F/N as he kissed further down her tummy, close to her aching cunt now. "Fuck, I can smell it from here," Anakin moaned out, looking down at her cunt now, "it smells so sweet and delicious, baby."

The Jedi pulled her panties down slowly but surely, "I love you," Anakin confessed, he wasn't even thinking at that moment as his tongue attached to her lips straight away. F/N's eyes widened both at the sudden feeling as well as Anakin's confession, not once during their 'situation' have they ever said 'I love you' to one another.

F/N covered her mouth with her hands and moaned out, Anakin's tongue was deep inside of her now, his arms over her thighs and his thumb rubbing her clit harshly. Anakin kept his pace up as he felt F/N's thighs squeezing his head, which further motived the Jedi. "It's too much, Ani!!" F/N sobbed out, she desperately tried to move away from Anakin, but his pace continued. He moved his mouth away from her pussy and he looked back up at F/N, he had two fingers inside of her now, squirming inside of her at a fast pace.

The look on Anakin's face was insatiable. He was just so insatiable.

A mixture of her cum and his spit were running down his mouth now, cheeks and mouth red, and his hair a mess. F/N wanted to kiss him so bad but she felt her orgasm nearing, she shook her head in pleasure, her knuckles were white as a ghost as she gripped the bedsheets tightly. F/N noticed that Anakin's hips would move as well, which definitely indicated that he was grinding into the bed this entire time.

"Fhuh... gonna c-cum, F/N?" Anakin asked, speech slurred from the bodily fluids coming out of his mouth, "P-Please just fucking cum all over me," Anakin moaned out and leaned forwards, his lips were sucking harshly on F/N's nipples. Pleasure wasn't even the right word for what the two friends were feeling right now, it was just so much overwhelming lust.

F/N nodded her head intensely, her hands moved to Anakin's back, holding him as close to her as she could. Her orgasm took over after that, she held her childhood friend close to her. Anakin kept fingering her after her orgasm, he needed to feel her wetness more. "S-Stop, Ani... too much," F/N cried out.

Anakin snapped back into reality for a second and looked up at F/N, tears were pouring down her face. "Oh fuck- I'm really sorry, F/N," Anakin had a slightly panicked face as he wiped her tears away, making F/N laugh a little.

"It's okay Anakin..." F/N replied back rubbing his cheek a little with her thumb, "now... how about I return the favour, yeah?" F/N asked, slowly switching positions with Anakin. The man was thanking the Makers in his head so much in  the moment, extremely turned on with F/N's fucked-out appearance: hair messy and cum dripping out of her cunt and onto the mattress.

F/N leaned down, she kissed Anakin's cheek before pulling off his boxers. She noticed just before she peeled it off that there was a huge wet stain at the front, making F/N giggle. When she took the undergarment off of him fully, she was taken aback at the size of his cock - despite having seen it multiple times.

"It just looks good every single time I see it," F/N confessed, making Anakin blush.

F/N adjusted herself onto her side now, she held his cock with her free hand and smiled, looking up at Anakin. Her mouth slowly dipped down to his cock, licking the tip with her tongue slowly and indulging the taste of his pre-cum. Anakin moved a hand down to her hair and gripped it gently, slowly guiding the woman and up down his cock.

She closed her eyes softly and indulged in the taste of his cock, bobbing her head at a faster pace now and sucking her cheeks in. Anakin could die a happy man right here and then, it was extremely overwhelming for him but he just needed her more and more. "Th-That's it... good fucking girl," Anakin praised, letting out a throaty growl.

This turned on F/N even more, her pace was even faster now which Anakin noticed. "Oh? You- You like when I praise you? You're such a good girl for me, you know just the right angle to fucking suck me off," Anakin paused to let out a loud moan as he could feel F/N's tongue on a prominent vein on his cock, "I'm gonna just cum so fucking hard in your mouth, sweet girl."

F/N needed this more than ever, her pace was unbelievably faster now. Anakin's legs were jittering now, his grip was tight on her hair as he basically forced her to suck him off. "Fucking hell.. aah fuck... I'm gonna cum-" Anakin's eyes shot wide as he orgasmed, eyes rolling backwards in pleasure as he shot his load down F/N's mouth.

The woman opened her eyes to look at Anakin, swallowing his cum quickly. She sat up and hovered over Anakin's cock, "I need to take you now, Ani," F/N whined out, she kissed Anakin's post-orgasm face and held his hard cock again, slowly sliding her cunt over it.

Both of them moaned in unison, overstimulated by their recent orgasms. Anakin's hands moved down to her waist, helping guide her down his raw cock, "You're so tight, my sweet girl, so unbelievably fucking good," Anakin moaned out, it was bad, he was starting to feel protective over her. "You're mine forever, got it? I own your fucking cunt, I own you."

F/N moaned in agreement, nodding her head fast and babbling yes underneath her breath. Anakin's hips thrusted up, trying hard to keep in time with the speed that F/N was bouncing on him.

The disgusting sound of squelching and bed-squeaking filled the room up.

This was the most intimacy any two people could ever be.

"I love you, F/N..." Anakin confessed again, he kissed her clavicle and cried out, "fuck I love you I love you I love you so much," Anakin pushed F/N over onto her back. F/N was taken aback and cried out because Anakin slipped out of her, he grabbed her hips and flipped her so that she was on her knees.

F/N whimpered out at the sudden action but allowed it to happened. Anakin was worshipping her at this point, pressing kisses all over her legs and up to her ass, giving it one last kiss before getting up on his knees, thrusting his cock back into F/N's cunt. F/N hands grabbed the sheets almost in an instant and whined out, eyes closed in pleasure, Anakin fucking her from behind.

His hands gripped her ass tightly, smacking it harshly and trying to reach his rush his orgasm. "Ooouhh, oh fuck-" Anakin leaned down, his head resting on F/N's back, "gonna cum so deep inside you, 'kay? My perfect girl I'm gonna fucking cum in your perfect body."

F/N nodded, feeling her own orgasm arriving as soon as he spoke up, her body shook and a drawn-out moan left her mouth as she came.

Soon after, Anakin came as well, he held F/N as close as he could to his own body, letting out the loudest moan that echoed through the room. The feeling of her warm cunt was so intriguing for Anakin, he loved the feeling of his warm cum inside of her. A minute passed and he finally moved, he slowly slid out of F/N's cunt, which made her whimper. Anakin looked over and saw that F/N was basically asleep, he chuckled to himself and helped her lay on her back.

"Did you mean that before, Ani?" F/N asked as she leaned her head onto Anakin's chest, "That... That you loved me?" Anakin looked down at her and smiled a little, a small blush on his face.

"O-Oh yeah uhm... I really do like you a lot, F/N," Anakin muttered, "I've always been too afraid to tell you, since I thought you just saw me as a friend."

F/N snorted and lightly punched his chest, "Oh my Maker, Anakin, I think I've had a crush on you since I was like... thirteen." Anakin hummed and held her close.

"Well, I'm happy that you're only mine now."

"I've always been yours."

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

I went back to rewatch episode 9 after your brief comments on the “tea drama™️” yesterday because I didn’t pay much attention on the first time and I do agree that the way his waking up was filmed gives a very strong impression that he didn’t drink a simple tea. And all things considered, it would make sense she would want to make sure he wouldn’t wake up during the night to see her packing and recording the ~goodbye TikTok~, so of course there was something in the tea, I don’t think chamomile can make a PTSD light sleeper wake up disoriented.

My biggest grip is how the whole sequence was filmed in a very emotional manipulative way - for the audience - which made the it all feel cheap and cheesy. The other dramatic moments from the show all had a more “serious” aspect to it, I think.

Also I had to check again if Cassian made any promise to find her at some point, since people around here are so sure it would be the first thing he would do as soon as he came back from Scarif (delusional time, the guy is dead). I mean, he had time do to that before, right? It wouldn’t be hard to find her anyway, if he wanted. But he didn’t promise anything, she was the one to make the choice “for both of them” as she said herself.

And just to finish, one thing about their relationship that was always odd to me is how she is always the only one to say “romantic” things to him and not the other way around. Sure, people express their love in different manners and maybe he’s not the one for words anyway, but it just gave me the feeling that type of writing that is “men are too cool to say they love their partner” kind of thing. I guess the most romantic things he ever says to her was “I can’t lose you again” and “this is the most important thing for me. Us” which are… whatever. And well, I’m not rewatching the rest to check anyway. no time for more hetero-anormative cringefest

Just venting some of my main annoyances about the show and how they made him so male gaze-y, even in some small things. By the way, I really enjoy reading your analysis, they’re all very poignant :)

Their romance is so strangely written. Again, at times I was wondering if one writer was trying to strongly hint something that the next writer wasn't picking up on: In their Coruscant apartment, their relationship felt so perfunctory and joyless and almost claustrophobic to me. Excepting that one flirty scene where they're joking about Cassian bringing some of his Karl-Lagerfeld-esque alias into the bedroom (great scene on The Americans on all the ways that might end up fucked up for all parties involved btw, if anyone is looking for a show that actually goes into what being a spy does to you...), we don't see them enjoying being around each other once. Physically, maybe, like it's probably nice to sleep next to someone in the life they're living, but... I absolutely never got the sense they like each other as people, that they have things they admire about each other or enjoy about the other's personality etc. It feels so empty, so much so that I thought it was on purpose at first. Add to that that I thought it was weirdly filmed at times, too (grain of salt, I have not rewatched these scenes, and am not in a hurry to do so). The lighting was always cold and washed-out in that set, day or night, and the camera was often at really odd distances from them, like slightly closer or further away than is conventional, or we got odd over-the-shoulder shots in moments where I felt like romance conventions want you to be able to see both people in the shot etc.

And then the scene at the supermarket! Idk if I was just seeing it through a negative lense at that point, but that felt frightening to me. Like, if you watch the scene in isolation, it looks like someone's abusive marriage. The way he physically tries to stop her from entering the market, then agrees to let her go inside, then immediately changes his mind and gets all up in her shit telling her to leave, and giving the vendor murderous looks for talking to Bix, and she tries to defuse the situation with a joke or maybe give him a little "hey asshole, cut it out" nudge, and he's not giving her an inch, and the vendor awkwardly caught in the middle of all that... And this is yet another case of a bunch of male writers not catching the significance of a scene for a part of their audience. I don't think this was on purpose. I think they meant for us to think, oh, he's being a little much, he's very overprotective. But what I'm inferring from this scene is: this guy is trying extremely hard to control the situation and I don't know if he's above using violence to do it - including violence against his partner. I don't think that implication was supposed to be in there, it's just the all-male writer's room and a male director and honestly a middle-aged male actor performing it, but as a woman about Bix's age I'm watching this scene and thinking "girl, I don't know what this guy might end up doing to you".

This goes back to my little rant about the hangar speech. They really took the guy who defied his superiors, his orders and his whole coping mechanism/belief system to tell a woman that he's choosing to believe her and have her back... and not only negated the whole impact of that moment, because they failed to see the meaning inherent in that for a part of the real-life audience, but they. They fucking accidentally gave this man a whole arc of spousal abuse red flags.

But yeah, all that felt so strange and depressing and suffocating, and I did wonder at the time if the writer of that arc meant for that to be stifling and toxic - I honestly don't know where you would take the story from there, because if they'd just do the reasonable thing and break up over it, making them get together just be toxic for three episodes and then break up again would feel like even more of a massive waste of time for the audience than it did already. But it was so stark that I did wonder if it was on purpose, and the writer for the next arc either didn't pick up on it or chose to ignore it. Because the core of their relationship doesn't meaningfully change. It's less controlling because Bix has given up trying to go outside, but it still feels weirdly empty, even though they're now in their silly earth-coloured yurt (that does offer lovely lighting, but I do hate the whole idea of Cassian glamping off base while Mothma is eating breakfast with 20+ recruits at a table every morning apparently??). Bix talked a lot more about how great Cassian is (though only referencing things we have seen absolutely no proof of on screen at this point), but still doesn't say anything about why she likes him as a person. They do say a bunch of phrases to each other with some extremely nothing energy. And that's the other thing: I'm so sorry, when Diego Luna has chemistry with someone, that stuff is magnetic. But I have seen this man look at the camera in a beer commercial with 100 percent more spark than how he looks at Bix at any point in the season, or frankly the whole show. I don't know what happened here, but this man is dead behind the eyes in those scenes, and Adria Arjona only has her pretty and concerned look on the whole time (again, with the possible exception of their flirty roleplay exchange that lasted five seconds).

And the way he reacts to her leaving is honestly hilarious. He wakes up all hazy and lost, and finds her goddamn video (goodbye tiktok is hilarious btw). She says, babe, I'm leaving so you can be special, come back when you've won the war and maybe we'll talk! And he spends like twenty minutes trying to track her down, and is a little misty-eyed about it. We are told, though we never see it, that at this point this man is "a leader" and an extraordinary spy who's about to be promoted to pretty much the top of the career ladder, and we have seen that he goes rogue for shits and giggles all the time. You're telling me this guy couldn't find out where the Rebellion transport that left a few hours ago went to? You're telling me this guy couldn't track down his girlfriend whose every move he's been controlling for several years? What's holding him back? According to the show, it's not a lack of skills, nor a love for following the rules or a sense of duty to the Rebellion! And it can't be because she told him to win the war first - he hasn't conceded to anything she wanted to do without bitching and arguing this whole season. This is not a guy who treats his girlfriend like they're on equal footing! Why would he suddenly do what she tells him to do?

One can only infer that he kind of saw this coming, and isn't really trying to fight it. That's fine, again, their relationship seemed pretty awful to me. But I don't see what about that reaction screams "this man will go out of his way to find his girlfriend immediately after almost dying on some mission in the middle of the war". (Because why would he go after Scarif?? She said win the war. Scarif isn't the end of the war. If anything, it's the start of active warfare.)

And then, when Vel comes and tells him (for completely unclear reasons btw) that he should go find Bix again, he reacts with the most noncommittal "idk yeah maybe later not right now" type answer imaginable. Where is the man chomping at the bit to see his ex again? Is he in the room with us? Once again, Diego could not have seemed less enthused in this scene. Honestly, I don't know if outstanding acting could have saved this bizarre way to write a romance, but... we'll certainly never know. I've only seen Adria Arjona in two things that I can't say convinced me of her acting chops (this and, well, Morbius), and boy, Diego Luna can be incredible but I didn't see much of that in most of this season.

It's so funny to realise at the end of it all that Tony Gilroy thought he was delivering us a grand sweeping fated romance between two childhood sweethearts with a visible decade of age difference. Whereas I first saw something viscerally uncomfortable and actively scary, then the funniest, dumbest break-up I've seen on tv in a decade, and then another viscerally uncomfortable and actively scary moment when they show us the woman with a child in a war zone where she is an at-risk undocumented migrant with trauma and no support system, and the show is trying to frame this like a good thing for her dead ex-boyfriend. They really didn't just fail to deliver on what they thought they were making, but fucked it up six different ways in the process. Overall, this was a brutal wake-up call on how people like these writers and directors see relationships, and women in relationships, and the reaction to that is even more upsetting. A bunch of young women saw the same shit I just watched and are now insulting other people in real life while claiming that this really was the romance for the ages? Girls, I'm so scared for you. I don't know what the fuck this was, but it was neither compelling storytelling nor a representation of a relationship anyone should want to be in.

Anyway, sorry this turned into a whole 'nother rant. I'm glad you're getting something out of my ramblings, though! I don't know what I'm trying to do with them at this point. I guess I'm still deluding myself that I can find what the hell other people are seeing that I'm not if I just dig deep enough, but I only end up making myself mad over and over again...