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saetoru · 1 year

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。yours, always yours

synopsis. satoru has always been yours—and he needs you to know you’ll also always be his

— word count. 2.4k (read the breakup fic first for better understanding, but can be read as a stand-alone)

— contents. fem! reader, college! au, rich boy! gojo, post-getting back together angst that gets a little heated <3, minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, satoru cumming too quick <3, creampie, tbh the smut is short and a lil rushed my b, it ends in fluff tho !! trust !! there is fluff !!

— notes. tbh this will probably get flagged rly fast but oh well u win some u lose some. anywayyyyy here is the make up sex bc yall nasties deserve it <3 jk love u guys

satoru falls first. and he falls hard. everyone knows it, it’s never been a secret.

“you want me to wash your hair?” you ask gently, kissing his shoulder as the water falls over his head. he hums, nodding absentmindedly as he stares blankly at the tiles of your shower wall.

“sure,” he mumbles, “don’t tug.”

“i never tug,” you roll your eyes, snorting. he huffs a small chuckle, but it’s not the usual laugh satoru gives you. it’s mechanic, almost—just there to fill the space. “baby?” you ask softly.

“yeah?” he asks, “oh, should i bend a little? sorry, i—”

“what’re you thinking about?” your hands cup his cheeks, gentle and warm from the hot water as it soaks his skin.

he shakes his head, trying to smile as he clears throat. “just how nice it is to be pampered. maybe i’ll let you break my heart every once in a while so i get my back scrubbed and hair washed like this.”

“satoru,” you insist. you know—and he knows it too. “tell me?”

“why’d you do it?” he mumbles, “why’d you listen to him?”

“toru, you know why,” you sigh, “you know i didn’t think there were any other options.”

“you could’ve talked to me,” he furrows his brows, “just because my stupid old man threatens you with my stupid inheritance doesn’t mean we have to break up.”

“i was afraid you’d choose me.” it comes out as a whisper, like a confession you can’t bear to admit.

“i would have chosen you,” he agrees, “why’s that bad? how’s that wrong—”

“you’re not thinking about the bigger picture,” you shake your head, “that company is yours. you’ve spent your whole life—”

“so what? was i supposed to give up the rest of my life for it too?” he asks tiredly—satoru’s defeated. he’s never been defeated, it’s the most magnetizing thing about him.

even before you date him. he asks and asks and asks no matter how many times you say no. because there’s always a chance you’ll say yes, and he’ll never stop as long as there’s a chance.

“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, lips wobbling, “i could have….i should have said something. i didn’t want you to make a choice young and then….and then regret it.”

“you think i’d regret you?” he’s wounded—absolutely wounded at the words.

satoru has always been careful, diligent and so, so meticulous to love you right, to love you how you need to be loved. hadn’t that proven enough? that he was in it for the long run—for forever? he’d been so sure you’d be his future, that the break up feels like waking up from a peaceful dream to a house fire—devastating, with smoke in his nose and lungs that he can’t breathe right, and everything gone within a moment before he can even register it.

he stares at the ashes in despair. nothing prepared him for the hollowness of not being yours—because satoru has never cared to make you his. all he’s ever wanted was to be yours.

you’re quick to remove him from everything, deleting pictures from your socials, untagging him from posts, removing him from your private stories and close friends list. he doesn’t understand how you could change your mind so quickly—and then he realizes you probably don’t. because he knows you—better than anyone ever has, satoru knows you.

so he’s comes to you, drenched from the rain, from standing outside your door even as the water pelts against his skin because he’s determined. he’s going to get an answer out of you, going to make you explain why you pulled him in so close, let him reside in your heart and fall asleep to the comforting rhythm of its beating—and then push him out like he’s nothing. what made you push him out?

and finally, when he does, when you let him be yours again and admit it’s never what you wanted, that it’s because it’s what his father wanted—well, satoru can’t keep his composure. don’t you know? hadn’t he always told you? hadn’t he poured his heart out and let you know every moment he’s always been stuck dangling from his father’s fingers? stuck somewhere between the sky and ground, too high to feel the floor under his feet but never high enough to feel the wind in his face.

you’ve always known, always listened—and fuck, you held him some nights too, let your fingers dip into his hair and soothe his sorrows of always being stuck.

satoru’s always been stuck, always had every choice made for him and every instruction carefully laid out on the table. and then you decided to make his choice for him too, walking away and choosing his future for him like he’s never had a say.

he’s always been stuck, but never with you—but now, he wonders if that’s changed.

“no,” you squeeze his cheeks, “no i don’t think you’d regret me….but satoru losing what you have is a big thing,” you mumble, “people work their whole lives not having a fraction of what you do. that’s a lot to let you lose.”

“i’ve never seen my dad kiss my mom,” he stares at you, hard and unwavering, his eyes stare into yours, “he’s never held her hand or made her laugh. and you know what she told me? that she would sell her share of everything to have what we do. why do you always look at me for what i have first?” he asks angrily, the water pouring over his shoulders as they shake, “why can’t you just look at me first for once?”

“i do look at you,” you insist, “toru, all i ever see is you—”

“then stop caring what he says,” he says louder, his voice echoing through the small bathroom of your small apartment.

everything about your home is small—smaller than satoru’s especially. but he loves it, thinks he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

because it’s yours. and as long as you’re here, the world fits into this tiny apartment, the galaxy too.

“okay,” you say shakily. and then you nod, looking him in the eye, “you’ll handle it?”

he nods, kissing between your brows, “yeah, i’ll handle it. who else is gonna take over that company anyway?”

“but what if he finds someone else? and then he—”

“he won’t. my grandpa will shred him.”

“but he’s old, and he stepped down, so what really can he do if your dad decides—”

“god, baby,” he groans, pushing your body against the wall gently, “i love your voice, but you talk so much. i’m wanna listen to something else.”

his lips find your neck, sucking gently at the skin, hand trailing to your tits before his thumb circles your nipple. it’s slow, deliberate, teasing as it rolls over the bud.

you whimper, clutching onto him as a breathy, “t-toru,” leaves your lips.

“yeah,” he nods, “that’s what i wanna listen to instead.” his lips are in a grin against your neck, kissing and biting until he reaches your collarbone. “anyone dm you after you took me out of your socials?” he asks bitterly.

“j-just one,” you admit through a stutter, “b-but i didn’t even open it! i wasn’t really—oh, toru,” you gasp as his finger finds your clit, spreading your legs as he lets out a soft growl at your words.

“what? just cause my face isn’t on your instagram suddenly you’re not mine?” he asks, thumb rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves—you close your eyes, moaning as your arms wrap tightly around his neck. “you’re always mine,” he murmurs against your ear, low and careful so you hear him well, “yeah? got that?”

“got it,” you nod furiously.

“got what?”

“‘m al-always—oh, fuck,” you mewl as one finger prods at your entrance, gathering your slick before slowly sliding through your walls.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he says firmly, “finish your sentences.”

“always yours, toru! always yours—please, please j-just…”

“just what?” he raises a brow.

“more,” you sob—it’s a broken plea as your hips thrust against his finger.

he’s quick to slide in a second, thrusting his digits mercilessly into your soaked cunt, his palm gliding over your clit as the slick sound of his fingers fucking you is almost drowned by the water in the back.

your water bill will be high this month. you decide it’s a sacrifice satoru deserves.

“you think someone could ever learn this body better than me? make you cum like i can? you think anyone will ever love you enough to learn you like i do?”

“n-no,” you pant, his fingers hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, you feel that dull ache build up quickly. it’s good—everything with satoru is good. his other hand finds your chest to pinch a nipple, twisting and squeezing until your nails leave indents on his shoulders as you moan loudly. “no one—no one but you.”

“exactly,” he growls, “how could you leave me? how could you leave us?”

“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, whimpering when the tips of his fingers slam against that spongey spot of your walls, fluttering around him and squeezing him in. you’re close—so close that you almost don’t know what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way your impending orgasm is approaching. fast. “i’m sorry, i’ll never—ever leave again.”

“say you love me,” he demands.

it sounds like he’s pleading, though, if you listen closely. there’s a small crack in his voice, a slight shakiness that makes you force your eyes open and stare at him and whisper, “i love you, satoru. i love you.”

and then he rips his fingers out—right before you’re about to cum. you gasp, pleading nonsense as you cling to him and buck your hips and search for something, anything to take you over the edge.

and then you hear a sniffle. is he crying? is that wet droplet on your shoulder a tear or the water? you’re too busy calming down from your orgasm dying before it ever came to focus.

satoru’s hard against your thigh, throbbing and painful to sink into you. he strokes himself a few times, whimpers as his thumb gathers the pre cum from the sensitive tip, smearing it along his length as he shakily lets out a quiet moan.

“f-fuck, i gotta feel you. please, can i? please—”

“yes,” you pull him closer, grinding your heat over his hard-on, “yes please, toru. more, need more.”

he’s sliding along your folds, dragging the tip of his cock along your entrance and smearing a mix of your arousal with his. and then slowly, ever so gently, he’s pushing into your after that, pushing past your walls and bullying into your soaked cunt, curving into you perfectly.

it’s only been a week—you feel like you haven’t felt him in years. but it’s familiar. you remember every part of him, including every vein that drags along your walls and makes your head spin. he remembers every part of you, including where that spot is that he needs to angle his hips to find.

he slams into you, hard and rough and fast—doesn’t even let you adjust your position to hold onto him tighter before he’s thrusting his hips and fucking into you desperately. you can feel him, every inch of his skin against you, every part of him that’s touching you. and you can feel the way his cock nudges past your folds, the friction burning pleasure through ever nerve.

satoru knows how to fuck you, just like he knows how to love you, he knows your body—every dip and ever curve, every place to touch and every part that has you gushing around him. it’s just the way he is, too good at giving you what you want, what you need.

when he moans, it’s breathy and he’s panting as he lets out those soft whimpers that make your head spin. “feel that? feel me?” he asks, grunting as you squeeze around his length.

“yeah,” you breathe, “‘m so full.”

“i need you. please, please,” he murmurs, “can’t lose you, baby. never you,” he chants, the quiver in his voice tearing you apart.

“i’m right here,” you gasp, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. he squeezes back, just to let you know he’s there too, “right here, baby. you got me.”

and then he cums, just as soon as you whisper that—he spills right into you with a broken cry, his hips rolling, needy and desperate and so, so lost on the pleasure. he’s too busy working himself through his high, trembling over your body to care he’s cum too quick—and you don’t have it in you to tease him. you can feel the hot ropes of cum filling you, painting your walls white, fucking deep into you as the blunt head of his cock slams into you without a second of hesitation.

but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter that brutal pace as his hips slam into you, perfectly kissing your sweet spot every time. and before long, you break—your head pushes back against the wall behind you, mouth parted as you wail his name and cum—hard. you’re quivering and spasming around his swollen cock, enough that he whimpers at the way you’re so tight.

it’s good, it’s always good. satoru makes you feel good. he’s the best you’ve ever had—the best you’ll ever find.

and then you hear it again, the sniffle into your neck as he clutches you tightly. you know for sure that wet droplet is a tear this time, and your fingers tangle into his hair as you stroke the wet strands.

“i love you, toru,” you murmur, “my sweet boy. i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry.”

“don’t do that again,” he huffs in between tears, “that was so mean. so mean.”

“i said i won’t,” you chuckle, fighting back your own tears, “how long are you gonna hold this against me?”

“how long do you plan on being mine?”

“well,” you pull him from your neck, cupping his cheeks as you wipe away tears and peck his lips softly, “i think….forever.”

“well, get ready, then,” he glares softly, “i’m gonna hold this against you forever too.”

“okay,” you nod, “that’s fair.”

“and i love you too,” he adds, “but block whoever dm’d you. it better not be that zenin boy.”

“block those girls who’s pictures you liked,” you shoot back, glaring at him with a pout of your own.

“don’t yell at me,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch as your thumb strokes his cheek, “i’ve had a rough week. you have to be nice.”

dabitee anon. are u seeing this. did u see the satoru who cums too fast. did u see it. report back if u saw this. i repeat, dabitee anon report back if you see this

#teepods.writings #thirstee!#rich boy! au #fics.#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

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hoshifighting · 2 months

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Nerd!Seungcheol

— Synopsis: After finding Nerdy!Seungcheol crying in the corner of the locker room because his girlfriend broke up with him to be with a jock after joining in the cheerleading team, you decide to help him and do everything he wished his ex-girlfriend had done. — WC: 6.6k — WARNINGS: smut, fluff, crack, some bickering—slight enemies2lovers plot, he cries, seungcheol is not a virgin (but his ex never gave him blowjob), mentions of alcohol (beer), mentions of glow-up, reader uses short dress and mentions short skirt, oral (f. & m. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, cock riding, answering phone in the middle of the sex—voyeur?, hickeys, body fluids (cum) and cringey mentions of hands mimics (fingering/blowjob).

As you head to the dressing room to grab your things after your Friday lonely practice, the usual silence from the night is broken by a faint, muffled sound. You pause, listening intently. It’s a sniffling noise, followed by broken pants. Curiosity piqued, you follow the sound deeper into the lockers, your footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor.

Turning the corner, you find Seungcheol, huddled in a corner, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Seungcheol? What are you doing here?” you ask, a smirk tugging at your lips. Teasing him is practically second nature to you.

His head snaps up, eyes wide and red-rimmed. “What do you want?” he snaps back, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

You place a hand on your waist, raising an eyebrow. “I think the better question is, why are you in the women’s locker room?”

His eyes widen in realization. “Seriously?” he mutters, scrambling to his feet, the embarrassment clear on his tear-streaked face.

You roll your eyes and turn to leave.

You wait just outside, leaning against the wall with your phone, scrolling through messages, pretending not to notice the state he’s in.

A few moments later, Seungcheol emerges, his face still blotchy from crying but now trying to pull himself together. He dries his tears on his sweatshirt, still hiccuping softly.

“Spill it,” you say, not looking up from your phone. “What happened?”

He hesitates, but he knows that on Monday, everyone will know about it. “Minji broke up with me,” he admits, his voice cracking. “She’s dating Jaehyun from the basketball team now.”

It’s a stereotype for a reason. “And you didn’t see that coming?”

Seungcheol’s face crumples again, and you immediately regret your harsh words.

But you can't help it! Jaehyun is the quintessential jock, the kind of guy who always ends up dating cheerleaders. It’s almost cliché.

Seungcheol nods continuing, looking down at his feet. “I knew she wanted more popularity, but I didn’t think she’d...”

“Look, Seungcheol, she’s not worth it if she’s willing to dump you for some jock just to boost her social status.” You shrug as you walk toward the hallway exit.

He looks up at you, eyes filled with confusion. “Why are you being nice to me?”

You shrug, slipping your phone into your bag. “I can’t let you mope around like this. It’s pathetic.”

He manages a weak smile at that. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll walk you back to your dorm,” you say, starting to walk again.

You leave Seungcheol at his dorm, giving him a final glance. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you need to toughen up.”

The weekend passes in a blur of volleyball practice and social events. You don’t see Seungcheol at all, not even a glimpse. Sunday night, you find yourself at a party, scanning the crowded room. There she is—Minji, with Jaehyun, surrounded by people. They look like the picture-perfect couple, a stark contrast to the image of Seungcheol crying in the women’s locker room just two nights ago.

After the party, you head to the convenience store near the university dorms to grab a late-night snack before heading to bed. As you wander down the ramen aisle, you almost bump into someone. You look up and see Seungcheol, his face so fucking swollen and hidden under a hood.

“What the fuck happened to your face?” you whisper, startled, clutching your snacks.

He scoffs, “What do you think? Been crying all weekend.”

You furrow your brows. “Seriously? You’ve been crying the whole time?”

“What do you think?” he repeats, more bitterly this time, grabbing a pack of ramen.

You both head to the cashier, the cashier glancing curiously at Seungcheol's disheveled appearance. As you walk towards the dorm buildings, it strikes you how funny you must look together—your party dress barely covering your ass, and his baggy 'I'm not going to see anyone I know' clothes.

“Man, if you’re going to show up looking like this tomorrow, you might as well ask to leave college for real,” you say, shaking your head.

He sighs, his voice weary. “I’m not going to drop out because of her.”

“Then stop crying,” you reply, exasperated.

He snaps at you, “What do you even know about it?”

You pause in your tracks and give him a hard stare. “While you were crying your eyes out all weekend, she was giving Jaehyun head in his car, like, minutes ago,” you say, your face contorting with disgust at the memory.

His eyes open wide. “She gave him head?! What a whore. She never even gave me a blowjob.” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

You raise an eyebrow, munching on your snack. “She never did? Seriously?”

He looks even more pissed, fists clenching at his sides. “I swear! And I always—never mind…”

“Dude, you were crying over someone who’s not even worth it,” you say, shaking your head. “She’s obviously just using Jaehyun for popularity. She’s not worth your tears.”

He kicks a pebble on the sidewalk, the anger beaming off him. “I thought she loved me.”

“Pfft! Clearly, she didn't,” you reply, shrugging. “She’s a social climber. She’ll do whatever it takes to get to the top.”

He looks at you, grabbing a handful of your snacks “You’re right. I’m done with her.” he mutters, chewing monstrously. Seungcheol frowns, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “How did you even know about that?”

“I was at the party,” you admit with a shrug.

He glances at you, taking in your outfit and the faint smell of feminine perfume mixed with alcohol. “Now it makes sense why you smell like that and why you’re dressed like this at 11 p.m. on a Sunday,” He glances down, taking in your party dress that’s riding high.

He recalls the moment in the convenience store when you bent down to grab some Takis from the bottom shelf, your ass almost completely exposed. He had glanced, unfortunately and quickly moved to stand behind you, rolling his eyes, blocking the cashier's view, who was wide-eyed and staring.

“Man, I gotta tell you about all the crap I had to put up with.” he begins.

You listen attentively, craving some juicy gossip to cap off your weekend. He needed to vent, and you were going to end the day with some top-tier gossip. A win-win situation.

At his dorm, Seungcheol sits on his bed, and you are plopping down on the chair, eager to hear the tea.

“Can you believe she made me cancel our anniversary dinner because she wanted to go to some stupid party instead?” he says, shaking his head.

“No way!” you exclaim, licking Takis powder off your fingers, your eyes wide with interest.

He nods, exasperated. “Yeah, and she didn’t even tell me until the last minute. I had this whole thing planned, and she just ditched me.”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, munching on another Takis.

“And she always made me do her assignments. I spent countless nights writing essays for her while she was out partying.”

“She did that?” you ask, genuinely shocked.

“Yep,” he sighs, moving restlessly on his bed. “And get this—she once made me wait for three hours outside her dorm because she was ‘getting ready.’ When she finally came out, she said she didn’t feel like going out anymore.”

“That’s insane!” you gasp, shaking your head in disbelief. “She’s the worst.”

“She really is,” he agrees. “And she never wanted to do anything I liked. It was always about her and what she wanted.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s because you’re too nice, Seungcheol. If it were me, I’d have shown up the next day in a mini skirt like this—” You make a gesture with your fingers, indicating something tiny, “—just to rub it in her face.”

He snorts, amused by the thought. “Yeah, well, I guess it’s different for a guy.”

“Maybe,” you reply, pausing as an idea strikes you. “Wait, do you have contact lenses? Or maybe a clipper?”

He looks confused. “What? Why?”

You step closer, gently moving his hair out of his forehead. “Because if you’re going to move on, you need a new look. Let’s start with this mess of hair.”

He looks at you, confused. “You really think that’ll help?”

“Bro, trust me,” you say, determined.

You walk around his room, rummaging through his things, looking for the clipper. Seungcheol sits on his bed, looking at you… Nervously.

As you plug in the clipper, the buzzing sound fills the room. Seungcheol’s eyes widen in alarm. “You’re not going to make me bald, are you?”

You smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you remember who did the girls’ undercuts below their ponytails for last semester's game?”

His eyes light up in recognition. “That was you?”

You walk back smugly, opening your arms. “Yep, that was all me.”

As you begin cutting his hair, he starts talking again. “You know, she once told me that my glasses made me look like a nerd, and she hated it when I wore them in public.”

You roll your eyes. “Ya! That’s ridiculous. Your glasses suit you. But we can always get you contacts if you want a change.”

You skillfully give him an undercut, trimming his hair and revealing a fresh look. He looks at himself in the mirror, his forehead and thick eyebrows finally getting the attention they deserve. You help him with the contacts, and before you leave his dorm, you give him a final piece of advice.

“No sweaters,” you say firmly.

The next day, as you finish getting ready in your dorm, you hear a knock on the door. Opening it, you find Seungcheol standing there, looking surprisingly handsome in his new look.

“Look at you!” you exclaim, giving him a knowing smile and nodding for him to enter. As you finish getting ready, you ask, “What are you doing here?”

He shuffles his feet, looking a bit shy. “I don’t know, just felt weird going alone.” “You look healthy,” he says, his eyes taking in your appearance.

“Yeah, I took a bath,” you reply, deadpan. “You should try it sometime.”

He chuckles, the nervousness fading a bit.

Together, you head towards the university building. As you walk beside him, you notice people glancing at him, some even doing double-takes. You stand proudly, shoulders squared, almost waving like a beauty queen.

As you and Seungcheol make your way down the hallway, you spot Minji in the middle of the corridor, surrounded by a group of people. Your eyes dart between her, Seungcheol, and Jaehyun, and you think to yourself that this moment is straight out of a movie. You almost wish you had popcorn to complete the scene.

You and Seungcheol walk closer, and you can see Minji's eyes light up as she spots him. She opens her mouth, probably ready to deliver some dramatic line or apology.

But Seungcheol, simply ignores her and doesn’t give her the satisfaction of a glance. His chest puffed out slightly.

You take a fine distance from them, your jaw practically dropping in disbelief. “I can’t believe you actually did that, did you really just ignore her?” you ask, laughing.

Despite his impressive new look, Seungcheol didn’t end up mingling with the jock crowd as you might have expected.

Instead, during recess, you spotted him from afar, sitting with his book club friends. The contrast was cute—here he was, looking like he could easily fit in with the jocks, but he chose to hang out with his old crew, surrounded by books and enthusiastic chat. He stayed true to his roots, hanging out with the people who truly mattered to him

He had the whole package—stylish haircut, fresh look, and yet, he was still the same Seungcheol. Still maintaining his original traits and habits.

The bell rings, signaling the end of classes, and you head towards the dorms, looking forward to a bit of downtime. Suddenly, you hear someone calling after you.

“Hey! Wait up!”

You turn to see Seungcheol jogging towards you, his new look making him stand out even more than before. He’s out of breath but manages a grin. “How can I show my appreciation for what you did?”

You wave him off with a smile. “You don’t need to do anything.”

He pouts, looking genuinely disappointed. “Come on, please!”

You roll your eyes, teasingly. “Calm down, nerd! Hmm, maybe just a beer or something?”

His face brightens at the suggestion. “Beer? That sounds perfect!”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you both start walking together.

As you and Seungcheol sit at a small corner table in the campus bar, nursing your beers, he takes a swig and shakes his head in disbelief.

“I can’t believe I’m drinking on a Monday,” he says, looking at his beer as if it might somehow magically make the week less mundane.

You laugh, leaning back in your chair. “Sometimes it feels like drinking just becomes a part of the routine. It’s like college fucks you up so much that you need these little escapes to keep your sanity.”

Seungcheol nods in agreement, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yeah, it’s kind of messed up how we end up just normalizing this stuff.”

You both sip in comfortable silence for a moment before he glances at his phone, scrolling through a chat. “Oh, hey, look at this,” he says.

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s that?”

He shows you a photo on his phone. It’s from the party you were at on Sunday—Minji inside Jaehyun’s car, Minji’s head is down, clearly giving him a blowjob, and Jaehyun’s face is smug. Your face scrunches up in disgust as you look at it.

“Ugh, yeah, that’s what I saw,” you say, cringing. “I didn’t want to think about it again.”

Seungcheol sighs heavily. “It’s just... seeing that, after everything that happened, it’s like she’s moved on and I’m left here...”

You take a deep breath, considering his frustration. “Yeah, I get it. It’s a shitty situation.”

He looks at you. “You know, I never really got why she never... I mean, she never did that for me. Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

You blink, taken aback by his confession. “She has never given you a blowjob? You were serious then?”

Seungcheol nods, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah, and now seeing her do it for Jaehyun... it just feels like a slap in the face.”

You sip your beer, thinking it over. The whole situation has him worked up, and you can’t help but feel a bit sympathetic.

“Damn, that’s rough. I can see why you’d be so pissed.”

“it’s like, she was so willing to do it with Jaehyun, but never with me,” he says, clearly frustrated.

“Well, now you know,” you say, a bit smugly. “She was obviously saving that for Jaehyun.”

He looks down at his beer, indeed annoyed. “Yeah, she was a piece of work. I guess I should have seen it coming.”

“Well, we could always find a way to have some fun and blow off steam. I’m sure there’s a way to make you forget about Minji’s bullshit.”

Seungcheol’s eyes narrow with curiosity. “Like what?”

“I’m sure we could figure something out. Maybe even something you’ve been wanting for a while.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh really? And what’s that?”

You lean in even closer, your voice barely a whisper. “Let’s just say, I know a thing or two about making someone forget their ex and feel a lot better. Are you interested?”

You smirk, is he acting, or he's that bad at catching hints?

He looks at you, catching the hint. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

You grin, leaning in a bit closer. “Depends on what you think I’m saying.”

He blushes slightly, his eyes meeting yours. “Careful, Y/N. You’re making it sound like you’re fishing for something specific.”

“Maybe I am. Just putting it out there.” you shrug.

“Are you serious? Stop playin' with me.”

“I'm dead serious.”

He looks at you, contemplating the offer. “You know what? Let’s do it.”

You can't quite pinpoint if it's the alcohol working its magic, loosening up inhibitions, or if it’s just the chemistry between you and Seungcheol, but his attempts at flirting are hitting all the right notes. There’s a certain charm to the way he’s leaning closer, trying to gauge your reactions with every word he says.

He takes a sip of his beer, his eyes meeting yours. “You know,” he starts, his voice a bit slurred, “I’ve always admired how you can just say whatever you want.”

You laugh softly, leaning in to match his tone. “Oh really? And what else do you admire?”

He smiles, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Well, for starters, your confidence. And the way you’re not afraid to call me out. It’s actually pretty sexy.”

The alcohol seems to be giving him a boldness you’ve never seen before. He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face a bit clumsy.

“You’re drunk,” you tease, though you can’t deny the flutter of excitement his touch brings.

“Maybe,” he admits, his gaze lingering on your lips. “But I’m not too drunk to know when something feels right.”

“Seungcheol,” you say softly, trying to keep things light but feeling a pull towards him, “are you sure you want to go down this road?”

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

[...]

The scent of your dorm—so unmistakably you—fills Seungcheol's senses, making him harder than ever. As he stands before you, your naked form on your knees, your hand between your legs touching your throbbing clit, and the sight of you looking up at him with hunger in your eyes, it’s enough to make his head spin.

You stroke his cock with one hand, licking your lips like you’re about to devour him.

His cheeks are flushed, maybe from the alcohol, maybe from the very embarrassment of the situation. He bites his bottom lip, eyes wide with anticipation, his cock starting to ache with need. The handjob you’re giving him is good, but it’s not nearly enough.

“Fuck, you’re so hard,” you murmur, your voice dripping with lust. You can feel his cock twitching in your hand, the head sticky with precum.

He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes glued to the sight of your hand moving up and down his shaft.

You lean in, your tongue flicking out to taste the precum at the tip of his cock. The salty, slightly bitter taste coats your tongue, and you hum appreciatively, savoring the flavor. Seungcheol's breath hitches, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.

“Oh, fuck!” he groans, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

You smile up at him, loving his reaction. You want this to be memorable, to engrave this moment into his mind permanently. You give the head of his cock a few teasing licks before enveloping your lips around it.

“Holy shit, Y/N!” he groans, his voice ragged. As you slide your mouth further down, taking him deeper, his body curls inward, every muscle tensing. It’s like you’re sucking every ounce of energy from him, and he can barely stand it. Your mouth is so wet, so warm, and you look so devoted, so gorgeous.

You look up at him through your lashes, seeing the absolute ecstasy on his face. You’re dedicated, giving all of yourself to make this perfect for him. You bob your head, sucking him deeper, your cheeks hollowing with the effort. Your tongue works along his length, swirling around the tip before you take him in again.

Seungcheol’s efforts to hold back his moans crumble. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so good,” he whimpers, his voice loaded with desperation. He grips your hair, not to control but to anchor himself, as his arms on the bed threaten to give out.

You hum around his cock, the vibrations making him shudder. You suck harder, your hand stroking the base of his shaft in beat with your mouth. You can feel him throbbing against your tongue, his neediness evident in every spasm and moan.

His moans become louder, more ragged, filling the room. The sound of his pleasure fuels your horniness, and you touch yourself more frantically, your fingers rubbing your clit in time with the movements of your mouth. You’re giving him everything, and you love the way he’s falling apart above you.

“Y/N, I’m so close,” he chokes out whiny. “I can’t… I can’t hold it…”

You look up at him, and suck him even harder, your mouth sliding up and down his length faster. You want to push him over the edge, to give him the orgasm he so desperately needs. Your hand strokes his shaft with more speed, your mouth working tirelessly.

You can't believe that Minji never gave Seungcheol a blowjob. Just the sight of his cock is almost enough to make you cum. With your hand still slick from touching yourself, you grab the base of his shaft and take him as deep as you can, sinking him down your throat.

You hold him there for some seconds, feeling the tears from your gag reflex forming. When you pull back, you see him nearly losing his balance.

Determined to make this unforgettable, you’re willing to suck his very soul out if it means you get to see his face as he cums and hear those incredible moans from him.

Seungcheol’s body tenses, his muscles locking up as the pleasure becomes too much to bear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cries out.

Seungcheol’s entire body convulses, his hips jerking uncontrollably as you milk every drop from him. His eyes roll back, and he lets out a guttural moan, the sound of someone utterly lost in pleasure. You keep sucking him gently, drawing out his orgasm, until he’s left trembling and spent.

When you finally release him, Seungcheol collapses onto the bed, needing to lay down to recover.

You laugh softly, brushing your fingers through his hair, feeling a rush of pride at the look of utter bliss on his face. His eyes flutter open, and he smiles so wide it makes your heart swell.

He sits up slightly, his hand wrapping around your throat. He grips you gently, his thumb brushing over your skin. You’re caught off guard when he leans in, not giving you just a peck, but sliding his tongue into your mouth. You thought he might find it weird after cumming in your mouth, but he does it without hesitation, moaning at the taste.

You can feel your pussy immediately dripping onto the sheets. His kiss is hungry, filled with gratitude and lingering fascination, and you kiss him back just as fervently, your hands tangling in his hair.

When you finally pull away, you both are breathing heavily.

“Damn, Y/N,” he bites his bottom lip. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

Seungcheol's eyes roam over your body, and you can see the determination in his gaze. He wants to pay you back, to show you what he can do. Gently, he lifts you onto the bed, laying you down. He positions himself between your legs, his stomach pressed against the mattress. You hear him hiss slightly as his sensitive dick makes contact with the sheets, but his focus remains on you.

“I’ve been studying up on this, Y/N,” he says with a proud smile, like he’s presenting a perfect exam result. “Time to show you what I’ve learned.”

He starts by kissing your inner thighs, his lips soft and teasing against your skin. You shiver, your breath hitching in tension. When his mouth finally reaches your pussy, he doesn't hesitate. His tongue darts out, tasting you for the first time, and he lets out a low, appreciative hum.

“You taste so good,” he says, almost to himself, before diving in.

He licks a long, slow stripe up your slit, his tongue parting your folds and flicking over your clit. You moan, your hips twitching involuntarily. Seungcheol’s hands grip your thighs, holding you firmly in place as he starts to work his tongue with more ambition.

His tongue encircles your clit, teasing and tormenting, before he sucks it into his mouth, creating a delicious pressure that makes you gasp. He alternates between sucking and licking, his mouth hot and insistent.

You can hear the wet sounds of his mouth on you, mingling with your moans, and it’s driving you even more soaked.

“Oh god, Seungcheol, that feels so good,” you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on. “You’re so good at this, nerd.” you smile looking at him.

He looks up at you eyes light up at the praise. “You like that?” he asks, his voice muffled against your pussy.

“Yes, yes, don’t stop,” you plead.

He continues to be concentrated on you, his eyes sharp and focused, studying every reaction. His tongue flicks over your clit, and your hips buck against his mouth. He smiles against you, clearly pleased with your response.

Seungcheol grins and shifts slightly, bringing his fingers into play. He teases your entrance with one finger before slowly pushing it inside you, curling it just right to hit that sweet spot—finding it embarrassingly fast. You shout, your back arching off the bed.

“Fuck, Seungcheol, just like that,” you pant, your hips grinding against his face.

He adds a second finger, pumping them in and out of you while his mouth continues its assault on your clit. The combination is mind-blowing, and you can feel yourself hurtling towards the edge. His fingers twist and curl inside you, like they're calling you, pressing against your sweet spot, and your moans become louder, more desperate.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs.. “I can feel you clenching around my fingers.”

“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you beg, your thighs squeezing around his head.

You feel a bit guilty for trapping him like this, but Seungcheol looks delighted, his thick eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he reads every reaction from your body.

He flicks his tongue over your clit in a rapid, persistent move, his fingers moving in perfect rhythm. The wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of you, combined with the slick noises from his mouth, are almost obscene, but they only heighten your arousal.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you gasp, your voice breaking. “Don’t stop, Seungcheol, please.”

He doesn’t let up, his tongue and fingers working you with a preciseness that makes your head spin. You can feel the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, ready to snap.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m cumming!” you cry out, your body shuddering violently as the orgasm rips through you.

Seungcheol keeps going, drawing out your orgasm, his fingers curling and his tongue flicking relentlessly. Your moans are loud and broken, your hips grinding against his face as you moan vulgarly, your chest rising as you soak his mouth and face.

Your body convulses, your thighs squeezing him even tighter, and you scream his name, your voice echoing in the room. He continues to lick and finger you through it, prolonging your orgasm until you’re left shaking and breathless.

Finally, he pulls back, his face shining with your arousal, a pleased smile on his lips. “How was that?”

Your body is still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm, and all you can manage is a breathless moan, your hands smudging your face as you try to collect yourself. Seungcheol laughs softly at your reaction.

“I don’t know if I can ride you right now,” you admit, your voice shaking. “I’m still trembling.”

He smirks, a naughty glint in his eyes. “Who said anything about you riding me? I can fuck you just as good, just lay back and let me take care of you.”

The promise in his words makes you clench, and you nod, eager to feel him inside you. He positions himself between your legs, his cock hard and ready. As he lines himself up with your entrance, you can’t help but gasp at the sight of his size.

When he finally pushes inside you, the stretch is both breathless and blissful. His cock fills you completely, the sensation intensified by how wet you are. Your body welcomes him, and he slides in easily, the friction making you moan loudly.

“Oh god, Seungcheol, just like that!” you breathe out, your hands gripping his shoulders.

He lowers his head, his lips brushing against your neck as he begins to move. His kisses are surprisingly sweet for the roughness of his thrusts, and you find the contrast and incredibly hot.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he moans, his thrusts becoming more urgent. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more and more.

“Fuck me like you mean it.” you grit through your teeth.

Seungcheol’s eyes blacken, and he grips your hips, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. You cry out, your head falling back against the pillow, your body jiggling with each strong movement.

“I’m not stopping until you’re screaming my name,” he promises, and you know he means it.

His thrusts become relentless, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you, your eyes watering. Your moans turn into cries, your mind going blank with pleasure. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and you cling to him, needing him closer.

“Seungcheol, I’m gonna—”

The sudden sound of Seungcheol’s phone ringing startles both of you. “Fuck... no,” he mutters, pulling out of you reluctantly. You almost swallow a sob, your orgasm fading away.

"Answer it," you tell him, your voice steady despite your frustration.

He looks at the caller ID, his face contorting in disgust. "Minji," he says, showing the screen to you. You wave your hand, signaling for him to answer. He does, putting the call on speaker. The fact that he's not hiding it, that he wants you to hear, that he doesn't have a problem with it, is unexpectedly hot.

“Seungcheol?” You roll your eyes at her voice.

“Yeah?” he replies, his tone short and uninterested.

“I... I wanted to talk. Can we meet up?” she asks, her voice faltering.

You sit up silently, your mind racing. Seungcheol answers her shortly, clearly wanting to hang up. As he talks, you get an idea. You crawl over to him, your eyes locked on his as you straddle his lap, your breasts pressing against his face.

He looks up at you, confused.

“What are you doing?” he whispers, his breath hitching.

“Seungcheol, are you listening to me?” Minji’s voice is impatient, and he can't answer.

You just smile, grabbing his cock and sliding it back inside you as his face contorts in silence, jaw slack as he looks inside your eyes. He bites his lip, trying to stifle a moan as you begin to move, slowly at first, then faster, circling your hips around him.

“Seungcheol? Are you there?” She asks, sounding more desperate now.

He tries to answer, but you start moving, slowly at first, then picking up the pace.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he replies, his voice strained. He places a hand on your hip, trying to steady you as you ride him.

“What are you doing?” her voice cuts through the tension, suspicion clear.

You moan slyly, loudly, not even needing to force it. “Oh, Seungcheol,” you purr, the sound sending a cold lick down his spine. He can't help but moan too, his resolve breaking.

Minji’s voice rises in panic. “Seungcheol, what’s going on? Who’s there with you?”

He can’t help but moan too, gripping your hips tighter. “Don’t talk to me anymore, Minji,” he says, his voice strained with pleasure.

“What the hell is happening? Who is that?!” She's furious.

Seungcheol’s hands grip your hips, his body shuddering with each thrust. “Y/N... I can’t...”

“Just a little more,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss his neck. “Let her hear how good I make you feel.”

He groans, unable to hold back any longer. “Minji, I’m fucking done with you,” he says, his voice shaking. “Don’t call me again!”

You moan again, louder this time, and Seungcheol echoes your sound, his head falling back.

The call disconnects abruptly, but you don’t stop.

You ride him harder, feeling him throb inside you, his body tensing as he reaches his peak.

“Y/N, I’m gonna—” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss, swallowing his moans as he comes, his release sending you over the edge as well.

Seungcheol throws the phone aside with a decisive flick of his wrist, his focus entirely on you now—not that he stopped, his mind was imploring for you every second.

He grips your hips firmly, handling you on his lap with a possessive, almost primal passion, like you’re a fucking doll. The strength of his arms moving you on his lap, makes you gasp, and you abruptly pull away from the kiss, your hand flying to your mouth in a futile attempt to suppress your scream.

It doesn’t work.

The sound that escapes you is raw and unfiltered—a high-pitched scream that echoes off the walls of the dorm room. You’re cumming all over his cock, your cum spilling over onto his balls and pelvis, the wetness spreading in a deliciously messy explosion.

Seungcheol’s grip tightens, his breathing ragged as he feels the lock of your orgasm. He’s fighting his own demons to keep his eyes open, the pleasure so harsh that it’s almost too much to endure. His eyes are locked on yours, and you see the struggle written all over his face.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans, his voice wasted with overstimulation. His moves become more desperate, desperate to feel every inch of you.

Your body shakes uncontrollably, every muscle tensed as you fight to keep your eyes open, to stay grounded in the moment. You feel the room spinning, the pleasure so intense that it’s almost blinding. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you struggle to stay upright.

You collapse against Seungcheol. He pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a protective, almost desperate grip. Despite his own wavering strength, his desire to hold and shield you is real, overshadowing any fatigue he might be feeling.

With the last of your strength, you gently pull his cock out of you, your movements sluggish. You remain close, still wrapped around him, feeling the warmth and softness of his body against yours. The sensation of his cock slipping free leaves a trail of dampness between you, your orgasms dripping onto his pelvis and the sheets beneath you.

Seungcheol shudders as he feels the wetness spreading across his skin. The soaked feeling on his pelvis, combined with the aftershocks of your orgasm, makes him groan softly. His hands are still firmly clasped around you, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

“Fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we just did that while Minji was on the phone.”

You chuckle softly, your exhaustion making your laugh feel weak but genuine.

Seungcheol lets out a rueful laugh. “I was trying so hard to keep it together while she was talking, and here you are, riding me like there’s no tomorrow.”

You raise an eyebrow playfully. “So, what did she hear exactly? Did she get the full experience or just a taste?”

Seungcheol grins, his cheeks flushing a bit. “Oh, she heard more than a taste. I was trying to get her off the line quickly, but with you going at it like that, I think she caught on pretty fast. She definitely knew something was up.”

“And now she’s probably going to think you’re a total jerk for just hanging up on her like that.”

“To be honest, I was so caught up in how good you were making me feel that I couldn’t even process what she was saying. All I could think about was you.”

The next morning is a whirlwind of frantic activity and poorly disguised attempts to cover up the previous night's larks. As you glance in the mirror, you notice the indicative signs of sex: red, blossoming hickeys on your neck that stubbornly refuse to be concealed. You grab your concealer and try your best to dab and blend, but the more you work, the more obvious it seems.

Seungcheol, on the other hand, is in an equally frantic state. He’s darting around his dorm room, desperately scrubbing away any remaining proof of the night before. He’s juggling a toothbrush in his mouth while trying to hide the hickeys with his hoodie. He eventually settles on a high-collared shirt that looks formal and slightly out of place for a morning class, but it gets the job done.

You rush out of your dorm, barely managing to grab your things before heading to your first class. The entire way there, you catch glimpses of yourself in shop windows and mirrors, each time cringing at how you might still look too happy, too satisfied.

Seungcheol is nearly out of breath by the time he arrives at the hallways, his face flushed—not entirely from exertion, you suspect.

“Did you manage to get rid of all the hickeys?” Seungcheol whispers walking on your side suddenly, as he tries to adjust his collar without drawing too much attention.

“Not even close,” you reply with a wry smile. “I’m basically wearing a turtleneck now, but it’s not foolproof.”

He laughs, a bit too loudly given the circumstances. “Well, at least we look like we’re going somewhere fancy. If anyone asks, just say it’s a new fashion statement.”

You snicker, shaking your head. “I don’t think that’s going to work. I’m just hoping people don’t look too closely.”

As you both ascend the stairs to your respective classes, the early morning hustle is almost forgotten when Seungcheol suddenly grabs your wrist, his eyes darting around to ensure no one is watching.

The empty stairwell is the perfect backdrop for his next move.

Before you can react, Seungcheol leans in and steals a quick, tender peck from your lips. The unexpected kiss surprises you, and a smile instantly lights up your face. You respond with another, slightly longer kiss.

You pull back slightly, looking at him with a playful glint in your eye. “So, what about tonight?” you ask slyly.

Seungcheol’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Huh?”

You make a theatrical gesture with your hand, tracing a path up and down to your cheek, poking your cheek with your tongue, mimicking the motion of sucking him off. Your naughty movement is clear and provocative.

Seungcheol's face flushes instantly, his eyes widening as he processes your meaning.

He bites his lip, his eyes locking onto yours with a glint of playful defiance. With a teasing smirk, he lifts his middle fingers, licking them exaggeratedly before curling them inward, making the motion unmistakably obscene.

“Something like this?” he asks, his voice sultry, his eyes never leaving yours. “Think you can handle it tonight?”

You can't help but be taken aback by Seungcheol's bold gesture, your jaw falling slack in surprise.

“Meet me at the storage room,” you murmur, urgent. “You’re going to finger me there.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widen. “The storage room?” he repeats, his voice a quiet, thrilled whisper, his breath catching slightly.

He thinks then gives you a quick, eager nod, the hint of a smile playing at his lips.

“Sure thing,” he continues. “Can’t wait.”

A birthday one-shot to my cutie pie hahaha 29 years old—I'm crying n'shit. 😭🥺❤️

2K notes · View notes

urinejaeger · 2 months

Note

like hear me out,, pro hero! bakugou gets in an argument with his wife and then gets so angry where he says: "if i hadn't married you i would be a top hero by now." 👀

A/N: you little angelic genius you, i hope you’re okay with a happy ending ♡ Sorry this took like two years, I didn’t know ANYBODY sent me anything in the years I’ve lurked!!

c/w: angst to fluff, established relationship, toxic relationship, mean bakugo, implied fem!reader, bakugo gets mildly violent, let me know if i missed something!

“…If I Hadn’t Married You!”

bakugo x fem!reader

You let out a sigh of relief. Wiping your hands on your apron, you stepped back to admire the work you had created on the dining room table. The table, which never occupied more than two chairs, was decorated with a spectacular dinner.

You had spent hours slow cooking, stirring, baking and chopping to make a large dinner for your Husband of an early year and a half. Though it’s very early into your forever, Bakugo had never shown any sign of regret in his decision to marry you. It took everybody by surprise, the way Bakugo had been sheepishly protective of you since you’d yelled at him for the first time when you’ve had enough of his teasing.

Your appreciation for bakugo was simple. He did nothing but come home and immediately cradle into your arms, slumping down and nestling into your neck when he was particularly tired and vulnerable - a side only you were familiar with. He would breath out slowly, feeling your fingernails softly drag along his scalp and make him feel drunk. But those moments would be brief, as your husband was quick to feel victim to his affectionate emotions and soon stand to do household chores that weren’t completed - even though he had been working all day, still covered in grime and resin from his explosions.

But just as his explosions save people, they also harm. And all it took was one glance at an old picture book from middle school. He had been helping you with your chores one day when he came across a yearbook from his middle school years.

One side of Katsuki’s lips curled up into a smirk as he was ready to relive all of his younger self’s dreams. His rough, calloused finger turn the front page. He flipped, his smirk growing smaller and smaller when a realization came to him.

He had abandoned his younger self. Baby Bakugo’s dreams. Baby Bakugo’s determination to be the number one. His smile completely wiped, Bakugo felt his teeth grit when he saw Deku. A shy boy, lingering in the back with a gentle smile on his face, no need for recognition.

That’s what began Bakugo’s emotional downfall. For as far as he’s come, he was certainly backtracking and the person who noticed it was none other than his darling wife.

Your little scribble next to his picture, Don’t miss me too much, Katsu kitty, made Bakugo close his eyes. He couldn’t believe he had done this to himself. So for days, he worked to improve himself. Even if that meant leaving her behind for a while to focus on succeeding in his career.

That’s why when Bakugo came in, and saw a grand gesture, he couldn’t help but grimace at the sight. You knew everything about him. From what he liked, his tips for plate presentation, to the already-clean kitchen paired with hot food. You had learned to clean as you cook. It angered him.

He stared at the dining room table, eyes bored and unamused. That’s when he heard the patter of feet against the hardwood, a girl barring in while tying the back of a nice cocktail dress. She grinned brightly at her husband when she saw him walk in, the faint marks left behind from his mask still on his face.

“Honey,” you giggled and walked to him, licking your thumb and reaching for his cheek. You were shocked to see him grab your wrist and dodge your hand. You pulled back a bit, confused as Bakugo just brushed past you. “Katsuki?” You picked up her feet to catch up with him, a hand touching his bicep to get his attention. Katsuki was quick to pull away.

“Fuck, WHAT?” He snapped, causing you to flinch and step back. A sour look was immediately on your face. Of course, he thought. She always stood her ground.

“Excuse me?” You matched his tone, arms raising and being thrown down in disbelief. She couldn’t believe he was acting this way.

“You! You’re fucking-“ Katsuki stopped for a second. He couldn’t look at her without seeing his failures. He just scoffed and motioned with his hand like he was shooing her off as he walked towards their shared bedroom.

“No! Don’t you walk off,” Your feet picked up the pace as you ran to confront him. You couldn’t believe he was acting so crude. Well, you could.

Fights between you and Bakugo weren’t irregular. But they never started without reason. Maybe he rolled his eyes at you suggesting a date night, or maybe he called you ‘woman’ in front of the cashier. But there was never nothing that agitated him without reason when it came to you.

The door immediately slammed in your face, causing a wave of anxiety to pile into your chest. You felt the push of the air as it was only inches from your nose. You didn’t know what to do in that moment. He’s never ever been that way to you. You’ve yelled, but (surprisingly) Bakugo was never physically violent when it came to you being the subject of his upset emotions.

But you knew you couldn’t just walk away now. After staring at the door for a few moments, you tried the handle and were relieved to find that at least he left it unlocked. Twisting the door and stepping inside swiftly, you saw Bakugo changing out of his hero costume, back to you.

“Are you going to tell me what is going on?” You said, mind inching back to the food growing cold on the table. But you refrained first, wanting to calm down your frustrated husband.

“I’m at a fucking stopping point in my life, Y/N,” Bakugo snapped over his shoulder as he slid on his pajama pants. He began to take his shirt off, and Y/N couldn’t believe he was performing normal duties in a situation like this. “You’re fucking EVERYWHERE!”

You scoffed and held your arms up. “Im supposed to be everywhere, I’m your wife, Katsuki!” You yelled at him, offending by his words. He was supposed to love that you’re everywhere. He was supposed to want you everywhere.

“WELL FUCK. My mistake!” He shouted, shirt long forgotten as he finally focused on the conversation- fight between the two of you. “What?” You gasped out in disbelief. “Your mistake?”

“Yeah. My fucking mistake.” He said with gritted teeth, eyes barely glancing to the yearbook. So subtly even you hadn’t noticed it. “I can’t work with you everywhere, breathing down my neck all the time.” You hated when Katsuki was angry. His raspy voice that you loved so much only grew deeper, more devilish. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t intimidate you.

“Why is that such a problem for you?” You said, anger rising to your chest. “If I wasn’t your wife you wouldn’t have someone waiting for you to come home—“ He interrupted, “—Thank GOD! I pray for that every goddamn day!” He shouted at you, yet you kept listing reasons why you were perfect for him. Reasons why he loved you in the first place. But it fell past deaf ears as he continued to argue with you.

“I have a hot meal sitting on the table, that you’re not even acknowledging because you’re—“ Again, he interrupts. “I DIDNT ASK YOU TO FUCKING DO THAT. Don’t ask for a thank you as if this was some sort of favor I made you do! God, just lay off of me,” Bakugo barks at you.

You’d about had it, the frustration causing your eyes to fill with salty tears. “Wow.” You said, mouth pursed into a line that struggled to hide a frown. “I didn’t realize marrying me actually is such a huge burden on your shoulders.” You said, voice barely trembling.

“If I hadn’t married you,” Bakugo leaned close to you, his eyes red and crazed with anger, “I’d be top hero. I’d be where I wanted to be my entire life.” A sick grin came to him. “And then you. You had to go and shake your ass for my attention every day. You knew what this meant to me.”

Your face turned to one of disgust. How could he be this mean to you? “Katsuki..” The tears fell. This wasn’t the man you had married. One tear, then the next down your cheek as you were at a loss for words. He was going through something, you told yourself. But you couldn’t bring yourself to find forgiveness in that moment. Your hand clasped over your trembling lips as you stepped away from his leaning form, watching as the hatred from his eyes started to vanish. He seemed to come to his senses, noticing the real effect of his words.

Bakugo wanted to fight his stubbornness. To pull her back and say he didn’t mean it. But his eyes fell back on the yearbook. Y/N traced his eyes to see his vision. She couldn’t believe this. Her tired, red and wet eyes looked back at Bakugo who looked at a loss for words.

“… If being the number one hero is so important to you,” You said, closing your eyes and turning your head. He swallowed thickly. What had he done? “I’ll accept your plea for me to leave you. I’ll come back early with the papers,” you said, you voice growing high pitched at the end as a sob left your lips.

You turned, heading towards the door when you felt a hand on the hem of the bottom of your dress. You jerked away quickly. “Don’t touch me,” You snarled at his apologetic stare. His soft arch of his eyebrows furrowed and he huffed heavy out of his nose, a clear indication of a pout.

“Y/N,” Bakugo growled and closed the door, louder than the first time, before you could walk out. You squealed and back away from the door, this side of Bakugo frightening you. But he didn’t look scary. No, when you saw his face he looked desperate. “Stop. Don’t do that yet.”

“YET?” You yelled, arms crossing defensively over your chest. “I don’t understand you, Katsuki!”

He leaned back against the door, hand frustratingly running through his hair. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.” He sounded as if he were talking to him. “I shouldn’t— Y/N. Listen.” He said and looked at her in the eyes, all the mania gone and now a regretful and sorrowful look in his eyes. “I don’t know. I don’- FUCK.” He was really frustrated. “I’m not anywhere I need to be,” Bakugo said, fists clenched.

“That’s not my fault,” you whimpered, shame settling in you. But what if it was? He was breaking down in front of you, feeling like a complete failure. “It… It’s… Katsuki,” You mumbled, not even knowing what to say at this point as he buried his face into his hands frustratingly. That’s when you heard it, a slight hiss and a little choked sob.

He never cries. You stood there, watching him without knowing what to do. Where do his feelings actually lie with you, and how do you locate your own? Your head hung slowly. Before long, you felt your own tears start back up. They dropped, your mind replaying the confusing and hurtful words that had left your husband’s mouth only seconds before. Your hands raised, wiping aggressively at your cheeks.

Katsuki’s teeth were practically chattering from the immense amount of regret in his veins. He wanted so badly to reach out and apologize. He hated what he said, though he knew in the moment he meant it.

He looked at her through soaked eyelashes, seeing you basically crippled in distress at the intensity of the argument. You hugged yourself, crying and swaying to comfort yourself. Katsuki let the silence sit for a moment before he cautiously reached forward, taking a finger of yours softly and pulled you to the bed where he sat and pulled you between his legs.

You stood, too mentally beat to fight him at the moment. Everything was falling apart in front of you. “I’m so sorry,” Katsuki whispered, looking at you. Your sniffles halted for a moment. He doesn’t apologize. Your Katsuki doesn’t apologize. He makes you gifts or sends you to Paris, but he doesn’t apologize.

You felt a rough hand with a soft touch on your cheek, but instincts told you to pull away. Your head turned, but it was brought right back with a firmer grip. Katsuki saw you weren’t fighting him hard. He needed you to hear this.

“Baby, look at me. I’m begging you,” Katsuki said, the raspiness in his voice breaking slightly with each plea. “I was wrong. If I hadn’t married you, I wouldn’t be settled,” he started, pulled you a little closer and testing the waters by taking your hands slowly. “If I hadn’t married you, I w-wouldn’t have someone to come home too. You make me food, wash my clothes, and..” Bakugo buried his face into your stomach as you hugged him slowly, arms circling his head in hesitation. You knew what he was trying to say. You’re the only person who can see him in such a vulnerable state.

You knew just how much being the top hero meant to him. It was something you adored since the beginning. But over time, you assumed plans had changed. That he was willing to settle for trying his best with you by his side.

“I need you more than any top pro hero recognition,” he mumbled, finally accepting his true feelings. He knew better. As soon as he found his person, he would be gone. From the moment he picked up his first romance manga, Bakugo was hooked on the idea of finding romance of his own, even though it would stray him away from his dream career. You, on the other hand, heard what you needed. You pushed him back slightly, climbing next to him on the bed and pulling him close to you.

No words have to be exchanged.

If Katsuki hadn’t married you, he would never find a real taste of peace and satisfaction.

If Katsuki hadn’t married you, he would be nothing but a bomb bound to explode as soon as it was ignored.

If Katsuki hadn’t married you, he would be helpless.

This was fun 😬 I’m a new writer on Tumblr and this is a new experience for me! Please follow and send requests so I can begin my masterlist <3

#mha x reader #bnha #mha #bakugo angst #bakugo smut #bnha angst #bakugo katsuki #bakugo #katsuki #requests #inbox open!#shoto smut #bakugo fluff #katsuki fluff #deku fluff

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