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kateschi · 24 days ago

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between bites and blushes

synopsis: class 1-a speculates about your secret relationship. as the teasing continues, a small slip reveals the truth, leaving everyone stunned—and katsuki annoyed.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

class 1-a buzzes with speculation as you sit among your classmates in the common room, a warm lunch spread out before you.

whispers ripple through the table, each voice eager to share their theories about your love life. you smile, pretending not to notice the heightened interest.

“who do you think y/n is dating?” kirishima asks, leaning forward with a bright smile. “I mean, she’s been acting kind of secretive lately.”

“yeah, and she never talks about him,” kaminari adds, his eyes wide with curiosity. “it’s gotta be someone from a different class, right?”

midoriya furrows his eyebrows. “maybe it’s someone in class 1-b? I’ve seen her talking to some of them during training.”

you chuckle softly to yourself. you’ve been keeping your relationship with katsuki under wraps, wanting to enjoy it without the pressure of everyone’s scrutiny.

as if sensing their curiosity, katsuki sits down beside you, his presence immediate and commanding. he slams his tray on the table, causing a small shake, and grabs his bowl of spicy ramen.

“what are you losers even yammering about?” he asks.

“oh, just talking about y/n’s mystery boyfriend!” kaminari blurts out, his grin mischievous. “you know, the one she’s too secretive to talk about!”

katsuki narrows his eyes, looking between you and kaminari, as if he’s weighing how much to care. you can’t help but smile at the situation.

“you guys should really focus on your training instead of my dating life,” you say lightly, enjoying the way katsuki shifts slightly in his seat, the faintest hint of annoyance crossing his features.

after a few minutes of banter, katsuki pushes his ramen aside to make room for dessert—an assortment of mochi he’d been saving.

you watch as kaminari, with his usual absent-mindedness, leans over to grab a spoonful of katsuki’s ramen while katsuki’s attention is diverted.

“hey, what are you doing?” you call out, but it’s too late.

kaminari shovels the food into his mouth, a blissful look on his face. the moment he registers what he’s just done, his eyes widen in horror. “uh, oh...”

katsuki whips around, his expression darkening as he realizes his precious ramen has been tampered with. “hey! what the hell did you just do?” he roars, a vein in his forehead twitching with irritation.

kaminari’s face pales. “I-I thought it was just a taste! it looked really good!”

“looks good? you think that gives you the right to just take my food?” katsuki yells, rising from his seat, quirk already sparking at his fingertips.

the common room goes silent, all eyes glued to the impending chaos. kirishima grabs kaminari’s arm, pulling him back instinctively. “dude, you might want to apologize before he goes off!”

kaminari stammers, “I-I’m sorry! it was an accident!”

katsuki marches over, and in a flurry of furious energy, he pushes kaminari back, delivering a quick, sharp punch to his shoulder. “next time, ask before you eat something that isn’t yours, you dumbass!”

the rest of the class watches in a mix of awe and nervousness as kaminari scrambles to defend himself, stumbling back to his seat, where he winces in exaggerated pain.

“man, you really care about your food, huh?” kirishima laughs nervously, though the humor is tinged with apprehension. “I wouldn’t want to be on your bad side!”

katsuki grumbles something unintelligible, his gaze shifting back to you. you can’t help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation.

days pass, and the class is still buzzing with excitement over kaminari’s mishap. speculation over your love life continues to swirl, but you remain tight-lipped, enjoying the mystery and the quiet joy of your relationship with katsuki.

then, one day, as you sit in the common room with katsuki, you eye his leftovers sitting on the coffee table. he’s absorbed in a training video, and you can’t resist the temptation.

you reach over and take a bite of his remaining ramen, savoring the rich flavors.

katsuki glances over. “y/n,” he warns.

you flash him a playful grin. “just having a little taste! you don’t mind, do you?”

his expression softens slightly, and he shakes his head. “if you’re hungry then just tell me, so I can make you more.”

you grin, warmth flooding through you at his casual offer. “aww, you’d do that?”

“of course! just don’t go stealing my food like some idiot,” he replies, crossing his arms, but there’s a softness in his tone that makes you smile.

just then, the rest of class 1-a filters into the room, their curious eyes darting between you and katsuki.

kaminari, still nursing his bruised pride, can’t help but speak up. “so, you’re not gonna beat her up for eating your food?” he asks, a teasing lilt in his voice.

katsuki looks at him, utterly perplexed. “what kind of jackass beats up his girlfriend?” he retorts, his expression a mix of confusion and annoyance.

a heavy silence descends over the room, the weight of his words hanging in the air. your classmates exchange stunned glances, eyes wide with disbelief.

the realization hits them like a wave, each one processing the implication of katsuki's casual admission.

“oh, that’s why you’ve been in a good mood lately—” midoriya blurts out, his eyes going wide with understanding.

katsuki’s face flushes, and he instinctively pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as if to shield you from their astonished gazes.

“stay out of our business!” he yells, then he points at midoriya, “especially you!”

the room erupts into a flurry of shocked voices, each member of class 1-a grappling with the sudden revelation. uraraka’s mouth drops open in disbelief. “wait, you guys are actually together?!”

kirishima’s grin grows even wider, and he nudges katsuki’s arm playfully. “dude, that’s awesome! I didn’t see that coming!”

you can’t help but laugh at the chaos, your heart swelling with affection for katsuki. you think that that nobody is noticing that katsuki’s hands are crackling, and that his eyes are picking his targets.

you figure that you won’t tell them, since, hey, good chaos is healthy every once in a while.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

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cbirdsongphoto · 1 year ago

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L!VE~ Zach Goode

Zach also made a name for himself in the voice acting world in LA, most recently as the voice of a national Taco Bell ad campaign. On March 1, 2022, Wikipedia Be sure to follow the musicians, venues and photographers and show your support by Follows, Likes, Shares and Comments. If you saw my post through a hashtag let me know what hashtag you found me at WordPress Sites: C_BirdsongPhotoL!VE and…

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#smashmouth #2022 #most recently as the voice of a national Taco Bell ad campaign. On March 1 #Zach also made a name for himself in the voice acting world in LA

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shinigami-striker · 2 years ago

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Mike Pollock | Thursday, 03.09.2023

In my opinion, Mike Pollock must be full of pride either he's providing his incredible voice talents either as a garbage-loving sociopath, an evil genius with an IQ of 300, or a caring father who's a vampire that looks after his weak son. Happy birthday, Mr. Pollock!

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tender-rosiey · 4 months ago

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Your husband, sukuna AU, is driving me crazy. That's like my 1st time ever experiencing what a comfort fic was. I have been re-reading them like crazy 😭

If it's okay with you, can you do a husband sukuna AU but with whatever scene you want? I really love the way you write him,,, it's just so perfect 🥹

dry your tears — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: i am so glad you like them omg srsly you're too kind <33 i really hope you like this too 🥹🫶🫶

“my lord, her highness requests your presence in the garden.”

said man’s eyes open slowly, and he narrows them at the servant who instantly kneels to the ground. he scoffs, “requests? she sure has become impudent.”

the servant trembles, “that’s how she worded it, my lord. I swear I have no role in it.”

“I didn’t speak to you,” sukuna replies as he gets up as places his foot on the servant’s head, pressing into the ground a bit more.

the servant whimpers but tries to be as quiet as possible.

sukuna warns, “and you’re to address her as ‘her highness’ or ‘the queen’ only. do you understand?”

“but—but I did?” he splutters.

“ ’that’s how ‘she’ worded it?’ ” sukuna sneers.

“I didn’t mean it that way! I am sorry! I am sorry! my apologies, my lord!” the servants chokes out, and sukuna takes it as the cue to kick him out of his way.

he starts walking towards the garden, while stretching and examining his surroundings.

the palace hasn’t changed in the time he was gone which was good. at least the human servants are capable of doing one thing right.

the gates to the garden open, and they reveal you.

deep down, the sight brings a bit content to sukuna’s heart, seeing you alive and well. however, that is a vulnerability that he would never admit, so he gets closer to you.

you’re giving him your back despite, definitely, feeling his presence.

he groans, “what do you want?”

“where have you been?” you reply with the same tone.

he rolls his eyes, arms folded on his chest, “fighting, obviously. I was passing time.”

he hears you take a deep breath before you speak up, “and you couldn’t tell me in advance?”

he can tell that you’re trying to sound calm and collected. yet, he still can’t pinpoint whether you’re angry or sad. either way, he believes that your attitude is unacceptable.

he chides, “don’t blow it out of proportion, and you have the nerve to ‘request my—"

“you have been gone for a month.”

the edges of sukuna’s lips quirk up just a little as he starts to understand why you’re acting like this.

“not the first time,” he hums.

he sees your shoulders raise slightly, and they seem to get tenser by the second. you speak lowly, “but you usually tell me before you depart.”

he closes his eyes in annoyance.

this looks like it will drag out longer than he prefers. what he expected when he returned was him spending time with you, his wife, not you giving him your back and seemingly lecturing him.

“stop beating around the bush,” he commands, “what’s wrong with you?”

you grip your kimono tightly in your fist and squeeze your eyes shut as you exclaim, “you had me worried sick!” your voice is watery and is shaky, but you couldn’t help it.

you had spent the past month alone, nobody knew of sukuna’s whereabouts not even uraume. were you supposed to just calmly wait for his return?

he may be strong, but is it always guaranteed? especially considering how the sorcerers are always planning a way to lead him to his demise.

you bite your lip as you hold back a sob. meanwhile, your husband quirks a brow, “you crying?”

you open your eyes and stand up abruptly, “no, I am not!”

throwing the hood over your head, you turn towards the other entrance and announce, “I am going inside!”

you start your march with determination, but as you get close to the gate, you hear your husband sigh and stop you by the arm. he pulls you towards him, tearing off the hood to take a good look at you.

your tears are not plentiful, but he can see their traces.

you frown and try to pull back, “let go, sukuna!”

he raises a hand to cup your cheek and squishes your cheeks like a pufferfish. your eyes widen, and you furrow your eyebrows in frustration.

“stop this,” you shoot.

he looks silently at you for a few moments, and it starts making you nervous. you finally decide to ask, but then he starts wiping your tears.

you blink in confusion as he lightly scolds you, “foolish girl.”

you register the insult after a few seconds, and it makes you frown and look away while grumbling, “shut up.”

you sniffle lightly and pull away from him. he looks down at you, silently watching you. you try ignoring his gaze, but then you just snap your head at him and huff, “what are you staring for?”

you study his face for bit then falter, “if it’s about yelling at you then I am sorry, okay? I was frustrated and—”

he pinches your nose, making you yelp.

“your worrying is unnecessary,” he says slowly, “I will always come back.”

sukuna, you realize, is comforting you. he lays a hand on top of your head and commands you, albeit gently, “so stop crying.”

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do not copy or plagiarize or I will send my cat after you

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #ryomen x you #jjk sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #sukuna x female reader #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna ryomen x reader

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criminalamnesia · 9 months ago

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the 141 x reader fic that you did was so yummy!!! pls make them suffer the wrath of reader and make 141 realise how much they need them when they leave,

your work is so amazing btw and your way with words is simply ✨chef’s kiss✨ (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

thank you!! here’s part 3 :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

angry didn’t even begin to describe how you felt as you slammed the door to price’s office behind you.

you were tense, muscles taut and poised to fight. your fists clenched at your sides, blunt nails digging into your palms hard enough to hurt. your jaw was clenched, teeth grinding together as you resisted the urge to march back in there and unleash your fury.

no. not like this. not when you weren’t a hundred percent. not when they would still look at you like you were a wounded doe, stumbling around on broken legs.

in the back of your mind, you can hear that psychologist saying ‘this anger will eat you alive if you let it. you need to let it out somehow.’

you inhaled, unclenched your fists, and made up your mind. you pulled the iv from your arm, wincing at the pinch of the needle.

you left the iv pole standing there as you made your way to the gym.

the gym was empty when you arrived, which made sense for this time of day. many would be occupied by drills or in the mess hall. others would be sleeping off long nights. you had the place to yourself, and you were grateful for the absence of watchful eyes and sweetened tongues.

you were tired of those who knew nothing acting like they knew something. of those who apologized or asked if you were okay. word spread like wildfire around base, and the subject of your ‘betrayal’ had been front-page news since the start of the witch hunt.

the gym door clicked shut behind you, and you surveyed the room. you knew your doctor would have a fit once you returned to the infirmary, and that she probably wouldn’t let you out alone again, but you didn’t really care.

you needed to let off some steam, and the best way you knew how was with your fists. either you start swinging at a bag or at a certain someone’s face. the bag won’t be condescending, and that makes your choice easy.

you approach one of the bright red punching bags in the corner. it’s scratched and taped from where someone had busted it open. scars that didn’t go away, that wouldn’t— just like yours.

you huffed. it didn’t do any good to start feeling sorry for yourself. you hadn’t done anything wrong. your team had.

you stretch your arms out in front of you, fingers interlocking to pop your knuckles. you catch sight of your severed finger, still healing. they’d recovered what had been chopped off, but hadn’t been able to save it.

just another permanent reminder, something to make sure you didn’t dare forget. you didn’t think you ever would regardless.

you shook out your hands and rolled your shoulders back. fists raised, you angled yourself towards the bag. feet spread, shoulders squared, thumb tucked under your fingers instead of inside. a stance that was second nature after years of sparring and hand-to-hand drills.

the bag was firm when your fist connected with it. you would have been lying if you said it didn’t hurt. you punched with the other hand— same results. the time you’d spent confined to an infirmary bed had done a number on you. muscles had atrophied, bones had weakened. the leg you’d suffered a bone-deep cut to shook under your weight.

you didn’t care. you kept punching, your breathing picking up as your emotions guided you. sweat dripped into your eyes and rolled down your back. you felt weak, physically and mentally. you hated feeling this way, and so you punched harder.

“slow down,” a voice grumbled from behind you.

you ignored him, continuing to punch the bag. you hadn’t heard the door open, nor heard the sound of him approaching, but you would have been surprised if you did.

simon always had a penchant for sneaking up on people, intentionally or not.

“gonna pass out if y’don’t stop,” he said after a minute. you could feel his eyes on you. you ignored him again.

you didn’t need to turn around to know he was standing there with his arms crossed, eyes full of something unreadable.

“stop,” he says firmly, and you sense his movement as he surges forward. his hand lands heavily on your shoulder, pulling you back from the punching bag. you heave in a breath before spinning around and punching him in the nose.

simon stumbles back a step, eyes widened slightly. for someone who prided himself on being so observant, he clearly didn’t see that coming. it made you feel the tiniest bit smug that you’d caught him off guard for once.

you dropped your hands to your knees then, squeezing your eyes shut as a wave of nausea washed over you. damn the bastard, he had been right. you shouldn’t have even been in here in the first place, let alone exerted yourself as much as you had.

your hands were shaking as you tried to pull yourself together. you opened your eyes to see drops of blood on the gym floor, by your feet. you had split your knuckles open.

there were also drops of blood at simon’s feet. you looked up then, slowly straightening your posture. he’d removed his mask, his face bare as he stared at you. blood dripped from his nose.

“gonna have to hit harder than that if y’want to break it,” he says, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“did you follow me in here?”

“no.” he says, and you’re giving a mirthless laugh.

“oh, please. im sure price sent you, yeah? you’ve always been his little lap dog. he says ‘jump’ and you say ‘how high,’ isn’t that right, lieutenant?”

your tone is tense, angry. you throw his title in his face, seeing as he’d been so quick to remind you of yours back in price’s office.

simon watches you, and you want to tackle him. he had always been quiet, always stoic. you’d been with him for years, but you still didn’t think you’d broken down all of his walls.

he was so good at masking his thoughts, his feelings. you weren’t. soap had always called you an open book. whenever you were mad or upset, everyone knew it.

no one knew anything about simon unless he wanted them to. it drove you mad then, and it was sure as hell driving you mad now.

“you need to get back to the infirmary,” he tells you. he wipes the back of his hand under his nose, smearing red across his skin. for a moment, you want to chastise him, reach up and wipe the remnants from his face.

you quickly shake that thought from your head. what is it they say— old habits die hard?

these habits would die if you had to strangle each one with your bare hands. anything you harbored for the four men on your team, for the one you’d called yours, was dead and gone.

“fuck off,” you tell him.

“why are you so damn stubborn?” he says then, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him start to crack since everything had happened. emotions are beginning to leak through his stony exterior, whether he means them to or not.

“you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. none of you do,” you say, and you take a step forward then, eyes blazing as you stare up at him. “not after what you did.”

he doesn’t speak for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. his eyes never leave yours.

“it shouldn’t have happened like that.” he tells you. you scoff.

“like that? you mean the four of you torturing me? tying me up and mutilating me like I was just another fucking target?” your voice was rising as you took another step forward, shoving a finger into his chest.

“if I’d treated you like another target,” he said, tone even. “you would’ve been dead.”

“so you showed me mercy, is that it?” you bared your teeth, a hollow laugh escaping your throat. “oh, thank you simon. I really felt that fucking mercy when you cut off my finger, and when you cut through layers of skin to get to bone.”

you inhaled before continuing. “I should be grateful then, right? is that what you want from me? for me to recognize your fucking ‘mercy’ and take you back? take you all back?”

he just stands there. you can see his jaw clench, but he makes no move to speak. you find it funny that he hasn’t even tried to apologize. john, your ever prideful captain, had swallowed his failure and pleaded for your forgiveness.

johnny and kyle would surely have done the same if they’d had the chance to speak to you, even if they only had a minute.

but simon? simon doesn’t. he doesn’t outwardly admit his wrongs. he doesn’t apologize. doesn’t seem sorry, even. you don’t know what’s going on inside his head, but you find yourself not really caring to know.

the fact that he can’t bring himself to admit, in blunt words, that he had astronomically fucked up and that he felt even the slightest bit of remorse, told you everything you needed to know.

cold, stoic ghost. you hadn’t been afraid of him when you’d first joined the squad, and you weren’t afraid of him now.

but back then, you’d wanted to break down those stone walls of his. you’d wanted to be someone he felt safe around, someone who knew him inside and out.

now, you’re packing your time with him into a box in your mind and dumping it into the trash. simon riley means nothing to you now.

“take your mercy and shove it up your ass,” you tell him. you step back and drop your hand, your eyes still locked on his.

“and by the way,” you say as you start towards the door. he doesn’t turn around, doesn’t move an inch. it’s as if he’s rooted to the spot.

“you should’ve just killed me.”

author’s note:

not really sure how I feel about this one tbh. I have plans for a part four, but I’m not quite sure how long I’ll be making this series.

and as for simon— I want to write an extra part about his thoughts/feelings about everything. let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in!

anyways, let me know your thoughts please :) (I honestly may end up deleting this and rewriting it when I’m not tired lol)

taglist: @preeyansha @igotmajordaddyissues @nanatheoaktree @aesthetic0cherryblossom @oceanicexolorer @soph121212 @liv2post @cupid-eclipse @angels-despair18 @k4marina

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