She's Different

YALL HELPED ME FIND IT. 👏🏻😭🥺❤❤

Voice [Katsuki Bakugo x Fem!Reader]

Warning for super angst! This wasn’t requested, but I was in another mood and there needed to be some more angst on here. (adding this in late, but warning for blood)

(I guess I only write for Bakugo now *shrugs* (OoOoOpppppss)) Sorry, I’m latterly and utterly in love with him.

As always, I hope you enjoy the content, and please do send in requests! I’m making my way through them and doing my best to fulfill them all! I love you all. 

Side note, I cried writing this.

“Good morning, Bakugo!” you cheerfully greeted. You waved to the boy as he grumbled something under his breath. He walked past you without a care, not even sparing you a glance. But you didn’t care. You bounced after him and fell into step with him, clapping your hands together and never losing your smile. You gazed up at him with practical hearts in your eyes. You couldn’t help it, you had the biggest crush on the biggest jerk in the school. Everyone knew it, even 2nd and 3rd year students. It didn’t bother you, there was no one else to show him any affection. Not at school at least. He had friends, sure, but none of them liked him how you did.

Your heart swelled whenever you saw him in the hallways and you always greeted him, every morning! Your eyes were practically glued on him all day, small sighs of longing leaving your lips. You always attempted small talk with him. He never had much to say, not that he ever gave you responses or answers you were looking for. He usually told you to fuck off or to leave him alone, which you would. You believed in personal space and if he wanted it from you, then who were you to deny him that? Sometimes you brought him and his friends gifts. The most famous one his friends liked to receive were cookies and other baked goods. Though you never spied him taking a bite of any of your homemade snacks, you always showed up with some.

“Did you get the answer to number seven on the homework last night? I didn’t understand it all that well, but I know that you more than likely did. You’re so smart,” you complimented him. You could ramble on forever about how perfect her was. From his intelligence to his defined muscles. You could compliment him on anything he did.

“Would you shut up?” he grunted, seeming to slouch more at your presence. You didn’t seem to let him forget that you were there. He hated how you came around to bug him every morning. He had to hear your voice everyday, talking about something stupid that he didn’t care for. He had tried to ward you off so many times, but you were a persistent leech. He was only happy that you were physically touching him, then he’d really lose it. Kirishima and Kaminari told him that it was just a little crush, nothing to make a fuss about, that it would pass. He was ready to blast their heads off because obviously they had been wrong. Mina had said that you had to be “hard core in love with him” and that was why you were so persistante. Well he wanted nothing to do with it!

You shut up immediately, nodding your head. You followed him all the way to class, making your way happily to your seat. You were stopped when you heard your name though and turned, smiling to the group of friends seats in the middle of the room. “Good morning, Kaminari!”

He smiled at you, but not in that flirty way he had. He was so nice to you, you assumed that it was mostly because of those cupcakes you made. He was by far the biggest fan of your baking skills and he always wanted more. “Got any treats for us today?”

“Afraid not, but I can bring some in tomorrow if you really want some,” you beamed, clapping your hands together. His smile widened and if he could hug you, he probably would. The only thing stopping him was a row of desks. He sent you a thumbs up with a shining smile. “That’d be great!”

You felt yourself get all bubbly inside. You did a little dance before continuing to your seat and unpacking your supplies. Once situated, you opened your sketchbook and started on a new drawing. You always drew in class, it was a lot more productive to you. You could listen to the lesson and keep your hands occupied. It made perfect sense to you, though you were sure Aizawa sensei wouldn’t agree. It was part of the reason why you hid your work from him and from everyone else, and made it look like you were taking notes. The other reason you hid your artwork from everyone was because the entire sketchbook, save for one or two pages, was all full of Bakugo. You couldn’t help yourself, he was just so gorgeous and handsome. He was a work of art himself, and you wanted to capture that. You did, everyday. You worked so hard on every sketch, pouring your heart into every line and shade spot. It was now to the point you didn’t have to look at him for reference, you knew every detail of his face from memory. You swore to yourself it wasn’t weird, really. You just had such a huge, mega crush on him.

Class went by as usual. Aizawa taught some stuff and slept, your classmates worked, and you drew Bakugo. There were no interruptions throughout the entire day. Lunch went pretty smoothly. Your friends started the same spiel about liking such a hot head, “especially one that doesn’t like you” they’d say, and how you needed to get over him. This was because they swore that he would either never acknowledge your huge crush on him and act on it or he would find someone he does like and leave you in the dust. Either way, they were afraid you were going to be crushed. Their pleads fell upon your deaf ears, though, as you were always dead set on Bakugo and no one seemed to be able to change your mind.

When the end of the day finally rolled around, you were at your locker making an exchange. There were a few supplies you needed to restock on and a few books you could return to the library. Both needed to be done as soon as possible, and you were planning on getting it all bought up and returned before you went home that evening. The halls were clearing fast, as no one wanted to be at school when they could be playing video games or listening to music or doing anything else. You closed your locker and spotted the ash blonde making his way to the exit. You felt your smile widen.

“Oi! Bakugo! Wait up!” You called after him. He didn’t, but you caught up to him anyway. You slowed your pace once coming to his side and giggled. “Didn’t you hear me? I want to walk with you!”

Oh, he heard you! He always heard you! Your voice always made alarms go off in his head, telling him that he needed to be ready for whatever word vomit you were about to throw at him. He always found it easier to ignore you than to start yelling at you, (1) because you weren’t worth the sore, scratchy throat, and (2) because you weren’t leaving him alone. He was endlessly annoyed by your voice, which sucked because he couldn’t help but growl every time he heard it. You could be 20 feet across the room, laughing with your friends, and he would get this cloud of annoyance laid over him like a blanket. He hated it, and he was pretty sure he hated you.

You were holding your sketchbook to your chest, your backpack too full of everything else to hold it. You didn’t mind, though, as you loved carrying it close to your heart. Your art was like a piece of you, and it always made you smile. Even if you were having a bad day, going through your work was always uplifting. Or just doodling made you the happiest girl in the word.

“So, are you planning on doing anything fun?” you giggled.

“I’m going home, and if you follow me there, I won’t hesitate to blow your ass up,” he muttered coldly.

You laughed, not exactly finding his threats or insults funny, but rather cute. He glared at you for laughing at him, looking away sharply. He stuffed his hands into his pants pockets with a huff, actively ignoring you more - if that were even possible. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything to you, but he wanted to make it clear that he did not want you knowing where he lived.

Your burst of laughter stopped when you tripped on a rock in the middle of the sidewalk. You hit the ground rather hard, scraping up your knees and hands. Your sketchbook feel from your grasp as you went to catch yourself, and it fell open on the concrete. And Bakugo couldn’t help but to look at it, and he stopped dead in his tracks. He felt as though he blood was running cold and boiling at the same time, because staring back up at him was a drawing of himself. He was horrified, realizing that this was what you did all day rather than play an active role in classes. He picked up the book with lightning fast speed and flipped through it. One after another was a drawing of him. His face, his eyes, his hair, all of it was drawn with such precision and accuracy. He fucking hated it.

“It’s worse than I thought,” he grumbled, looking at you with full rage in his eyes. “You’re a stupid stalker bitch!”

You looked at him, down on your knees and feeling the seething pain of blood soaking into the sidewalk from your skin. You shook your head, waving your hands around viciously. “I’m not! I swear!”

“Then what the fuck is this!?” He couldn’t stop yelling. He felt violated almost, his opinion of you drastically changing from annoying kid with a school girl crush to crazy stalker who wouldn’t leave him alone.

“I just couldn’t help it,” you told him, standing to your feet. The blood started running down your legs, but you didn’t care. You reached for the sketchbook, but he held it over your head where you couldn’t reach it. “Please, give it back!”

“Like hell I would!” he shouted in your face. He stepped away from you, taking the book in both his hands. He suddenly set off tiny explosions, burning the surface and everything within the pages. It felt like something inside of you died the moment he did that. He threw it at your feet as tears started pooling in your eyes. “You need to leave me the fuck alone! I don’t like you, not even a little bit! If I could have it my way, you wouldn’t even be here, you hear me?! So just fuck off and stay out of my life, ‘cause I don’t need stalker extras like you dragging me down! And if I find out you draw me one more time, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to draw anything ever again!”

You picked up your sketchbook, that now looked like it had gone to Hell and come back to your. Your blood seeped into the cover and a few pages. You could only stare at it as you let silent tears fall. You gripped it tightly, your knuckles turning white. Bakugo was already walking away from you, but you couldn’t stop your voice before you could think.

“You really think you’re gonna become a hero acting like such a jerk!? You’re a monster! A horrible one! I promise you, I won’t draw you again! I never want to see you again!” You turned and ran away from him, tearing blurring your vision. He had destroyed something so close to your heart, something that defined you. It wasn’t him, it was your drawings. Everything else, you weren’t so good at, but drawing and baking was all you had. Everything else amounted to nothing, and he had just plummeted your dreams of love.

Bakugo had stopped when he heard the first thing you said. It didn’t hit him as hard as being called a monster, though. It shook him, but he didn’t let it show. He turned, half expecting to see you running to him even though he had heard you run away. But all he saw was your blood sprinkled on the ground where you had fallen. Nothing else of you remained and he felt a weird panging in his chest, like he had just stabbed himself in the heart.

The following morning, he didn’t hear your voice at all. You weren’t in the hall to greet him nor in the classroom. He didn’t see your smiling face anywhere and your friends were huddled in a corner talking to themselves. He didn’t think twice about it, as he were sure you had told them everything that had happened. How he burnt your book and about how much of a monster he was. He had stayed up all night thinking only one thing.

“How can I become a hero if I’m a monster?”

He sat down in class without a word. Even when his friends spoke to him, he didn’t even look at them. He didn’t say anything to them. He didn’t even really pay attention to the lesson. All he had running through his head was the look of pure pain on your face and the words you screamed at him. He was slowly realized that he hated your voice when you said those words, because they had been filled with hurt and hatred. It wasn’t like the loving and sweet voice you used when greeting him and telling him about your passions. He missed that voice. So. Damn. Much.

When lunch break came, he marched up to Kaminari and demanded his phone. “Dude, you have your own!”

“JUST GIVE IT TO ME, DAMMIT!”

Kaminari didn’t object again. He nearly slapped the device into Bakugo’s open hand and watched him with curiosity as he scrolled through the contacts list.

When Bakugo found your name, it had a cute flower emoji beside it. His heart filled with despair as he hit the call button beside it and held the phone to his ear. Each ring made his stomach clench, but it was the cut off that made it drop. You had sent him (Kaminari) to voicemail, where your bubbly voice filled his eyes.

“I missed you, but I promise to call you back later! If it’s important, leave a voicemail!” There was the beep, signalling the beginning of the message recording. He felt himself inhale sharply, and he held it for a few seconds. Those seconds suddenly felt like minutes as he realized he only had a short amount of time to say what he wanted to say.

“(name),” he paused for a moment, bowing his head shamefully as he felt his throat become sore and scratchy, “I’m sorry.”

In Your Eyes

Tamaki Amajiki x Gn!Reader

Summary: When two people meet eyes for the first time.

Warnings: Fluff, a little hostage situation, ProHeroAU, Togata has his quirk back, mentions death but no one dies,

When his eyes met yours it felt like the world had come to a stand still.

You had been walking down the street to go into work like normal, an everyday routine. A Villain had other plans though and had taken you hostage. You're unsure why it had to have been you, it could've been any other person, of course life loves to throw screw balls your way.

Hanging upside down in the air was terrifying, more so from the fear of being dropped. Someone had called that the Heros were on the way and you could only close your eyes in a silent prayer that they'd capture this guy before something worse happened.

"You all will bow before me! I dare anyone to try and stop the great Anpu!" Wait did this guy really call himself Anpu? "Uh sir, have you killed anyone?" You couldn't help but ask, I mean the name did mean God of Death.

It seemed like your question had stumped him, "U-uh well..no..no I haven't, BUT IM WILLING TO," he yelled at you. You could only roll your eyes, your fear from before completely gone at this armature Villain.

"Stop right there!" A voice had interrupted the conversation and caused you to look, there were two Heros down on the ground, one with bright blonde hair and a red cape, the other wearing a large white cloak, the hood pulled up to cover his face. Wait, was he shaking?

"Don't worry citizen, we'll save you!" The Hero, now recognized as Le Million from what other people called out, had shouted to you and you called out, "Take your time, no rush," this had taken everyone back. We're you not terrified?

The guy standing next to Le Million, now announced as Suneater had suddenly sent out a large Octopus tentacle and it wrapped around your waist as you were tugged in his direction, Le Million appearing out of no where and punching the Villain back onto the ground.

Closing your eyes due to the sudden pull, you felt two arms wrap around you. The feeling was tight yet not so snug you couldn't get out.

"You okay?" The deep voice asked, you opening your (e/c) eyes to look up into a pair of dark eyes that stared back at you.

The whole world seemed to have gone silent as you stared at eachother in wonderment. His eyes were dark but warm, reminding you of a dark stary night sky somewhere in the quiet of the mountains. You felt your face flush as you found your hands on his chest and his hands still around your waist. Was this a dream?

Tamaki on the other hand couldn't find it in him to pull away from you. Beautiful (e/c) eyes stared into his soul. He wanted to shy away from your eyes and your hands that lingered on his chest but at the same time he wanted to stay looking to your eyes.

The rich color was warm and inviting, pulling him in deeper as if it would quench the thirst of curiosity he now possed about you. Your eyes to him seemed to hold the whole world, reminding him of a sunrise where hope for a new day started.

He heard nothing, no more Villain or cheering citizens. Just you and him. Him and you. Two people alone in this world. Was this a dream?

"T-thank you," you smiled at him, your eyes seeming to glimmer even more with gratefulness and the sunlight hitting them just right that had his heart stopping.

"Y-You're wel-welcome," he stammered, his face now flushing yet you found it enduring, almost cute. His eyes drew you in more, causing you to unconsciously lean in closer to the flushing Hero who you felt squeeze you tighter.

Who knew the day could start out this amazing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ayee a little shorter but wanted to focus more on the feelings than the plot. Let me know what yall think

👀☀️⭐🌕❤👀

To all of my lovelies who would like to be added to the Clouds Series, Neteyam x Reader, please comment on this post!

I can't stop clicking play..0.0

wow they really did adapt frozen well

Please not my baby fever coming back

😩🥵😭❤

would u like to elaborate on ur baby fever with bakugou 👀👀👀👀

cw ;; fem!reader, pregnancy talk, daddy bkg, suggestive ish 

pls... 

i just think bakugou goes his whole life thinking he won’t have kids. not bc he wont want them but he’s a brash, callous man and he can’t picture himself falling in love. and when he does, he can’t picture himself staying together. and when that happens - he sees a baby and a momma in the street and thinks about it all day. you’ve mentioned you want kids before but he never said anything back bc.. he was scared. 

but he wants them, he thinks. with you. adopted or not - as long as you have a family, bakugou is a happy man. he comes home and confesses this to you half asleep in your bed. 

“i think.. we should try,” “try? try for what?” and he nudges into your neck and grunts “for some fuckin’ brats” 

the rest is history really. you do by the way - try for some brats. every time he’s home he has you pressed up somewhere, kissing you sweet and saying he can’t wait to put a baby in u. he does eventually, gets u round n big w his kids.

he’s terribly over-protective of you. for about a year - the man is out of the media unlike usual. he will bite anyone who tries to get working overtime. spends all of his free time taking care of u and ur belly. 

it makes me so.. he gets all nuzzled up to you whenever he can. scolds his future kid about kicking you and hurting you. kisses you belly and rubs it - does the thing where he holds it up for you whenever possible. just so enamored. talks about what he’ll name your baby all day

doesn’t wanna know the gender bc he doesn’t care. i know ppl see him as someone w a daughter but i love picturing him a w son. a big, chunky ass baby. bakugou knows he’s gonna be a mamas boy as soon as he sees him but god does he love him. 

splitting image of him in terms of eyes n hair. gorgeous rlly. baugou always talks to him soft - never yells. just a gruff voice soothing him through his tantrums. rubbing his back and saying “i know it’s tough little man. stick it out or you’ll wake up your mama” 

always wakes up to change the diaper bc he wants you to rest. feeds the baby when he can (gets offended when he tries to breastfeed LMFAO) but he loves him so much. 

he hates the media trying to assign him hero work so he goes live, on air, with baby strapped to his chest. he covers his ears and goes “my son will be WHATEVER THE FUCK he wants to be AND the best at it. fuck off you freaks” before kissing ur babyboy on his head and asking him if he’s hungry. 

will harass you to give him some daughters next lit as soon as he fuck can. menace but he can’t picture life without at least one more brat to take care of. he’s just so happy with you and your baby. his phone background is u n him in the hospital. 

loves playing peek-a-boo. loves carrying your son on his shoulders when he’s big enough. loves your little family more than anything in the world. when ppl ask him why he’s a hero - he softens and goes “ive got people to protect, same as you” 

This is giving me HTTYD2 Vibes, "You're a beautiful as the day I lost you" like stop breaking my heart man 😭💔

Bakugou’s first love who’s temper and passion matches, no, exceeds his, because you had to fight twice as hard to earn things he was given, had to fight twice as hard to get a seat at a table he was born to. His first love, who’s outcast by hero society for carrying too much anger, for being too rough, too much. 

For being Quirkless.

He never said it was love, but it was. He could feel it, knew you could too. Or at least, he hopes you could. 

So after you disappear, there’s not a single day that goes by where he doesn’t think of you, well into adulthood. Little things like the flowers in the florist shop window that are the exact color of your old car, the way the city glows after a rainstorm.

He thinks it would be easier to forget you, to not have to carry the weight around with him all the time, and he hates himself for thinking it at all. Hates that he feels burdened by your memory instead of thankful he could tell someone exactly where every mole and birthmark sat on your skin, the different colors in your eyes.

It’s that perfect memory that confirms his worst suspicion when history begins to repeat himself, a new group of villains unhappy with society rising from the ashes of the last.

You’re clearly different, but he knows you. Knows the way you move, the tilt to your voice when you’re hiding that you’re wounded.

It’s the first time that his heart is at war with his sense of duty, but he keeps quiet about his suspicion regardless, needing to confirm everything for himself before he spoke up.

It’s a thin line he’s walking, but he assures himself he won’t cross it, no matter what.

And yet, when he finally catches you, unmasked and pinned beneath him, bloody teeth bared, he finds himself lifting enough for you to escape. He wants desperately to give chase, to catch you again, but he knows it’s not so he can bring you in.

It’s that realization that wakes him up, makes him take extended leave so he can track you down. Except he doesn’t have to.

You show up at his apartment one night, covered in shadows near the open window as he comes in, absently listening to Kiri worry about him over the phone. It takes everything in him not to hang up on his friend immediately when he sees you, freezing in place.

He should be angry, should be insulted that you, a wanted villain, had the audacity to show up in his home and silently watch him, but he’s not.

Part of him believes he’s finally lost it, chasing ghosts, so he calls out your name quietly, more of a breath than real words, but he can see the way your body reacts to it immediately, and all he can feel is relief crash around him.

There’s a heavy silence for a while, and then he takes a step forward. You stiffen, and in a blink, you’re gone, the only sign you were real to begin with a note telling him to stay away.

But he doesn’t. And neither do you. He knows you follow him, can feel watchful eyes on him, even if he can’t see you right away.

And then you show up in his apartment once more, clearly ready for a fight in the middle of his kitchen. There’s a glint of a knife in your hand, and he’s careful to move slowly as he sets down his groceries, hands splayed to show you he’s unarmed, as if he couldn’t kill you with one flick of his wrist. He calls out your name again, softly, like he’s talking to a wounded animal, and you can’t help the way your heart begs you to respond, even after so many years.

You shift, hesitate, and he straightens, takes a chance, and takes a step towards you. Your hand twitches, but you don’t raise it, don’t charge him. So he takes another. And then another. And then he’s within striking range, and your eyes are hard, angry in warning, but wide, like you’re lost. 

So he steps closer. And you step back, knife falling from your hand and clattering to the floor. He presses forward until your back hits his kitchen island, and he’s leaning over you, knuckles white with the way they grip the marble. 

You look panicked, fear brewing in your gaze when he raises a hand, eyes squeezing shut so you don’t see the blow coming. 

Instead, he brushes your hair away from your face, and your eyes fly open in surprise, the large pro drinking you in, his eyes flicking over your form. 

“I thought you were dead,” 

His voice is softer than anything you’ve ever heard, rolling over you and bringing back memories long since repressed. He cups your cheek, thumb sliding over your skin as if to make sure you’re real, and you hate how good it feels, how much you’ve missed him, and then his gaze dips lower and he freezes. 

Now that’s he’s able to be close to you, breathe you in, he sees what he’s missed before, hidden under stealth suits and large hoodies. From beneath your top curl ragged scars, curving and licking up along your throat and across your shoulders, more abundant than unmarred skin.

Your breath hitches as his fingers leave your face to trace over the scars on your collarbone, his face filled with anguish. His searching takes him lower, to the collar of your shirt where he pulls away, shaky hands falling to the hem as he begins to lift it slowly. 

Your hands circle his wrist in warning, and he spares you a glance, his pretty eyes filled with silent pleas, and you give in to him, as powerless to him as you were when you were stupid kids believing you were in love. Your fingers fall away from his skin slowly to let him continue, heart hammering as you let the man you came to kill undress you. 

He hesitates, inhaling deeply, steeling himself for what he might see before he tugs the cotton upwards once more. 

His stomach twists in knots as you’re revealed to him, arching scars covering most of your torso, some clearly old, but far too many new, deep, and he can only imagine what you went through to earn such markings across your skin. 

He can hardly find those moles and beauty marks he used to be able to map perfectly, now replaced with thick and jagged lines. He looks tortured, struggling not to let it show, but you see it anyways.

You can’t help the noise that bubbles from your throat when you lift your arms for him, a fresh wound beneath your left breast pulling painfully tight with the movement, and he clenches his jaw at the sound of your whimper, brows drawn low over his eyes. 

When his palm lays flat against your stomach, measuring the expanse of your scars to his hand, the former reaching out far further, you squeeze your eyes shut and tilt your head back. 

You never wanted him to see you like this, and in that very moment, you wished you were dead like he’d assumed, rather than a broken shell of who he used to love. 

He’s silent as his hands wander, their warmth seeping into your skin and settling on your hips, fingers splayed wide. He lets out a shaky huff and you finally peel open your eyes as he drops to his knees, his breath warm over your skin, moments before his mouth presses over your flaws.

He doesn’t miss the way you inhale sharply, hazy eyes focused down at him kneeling at your feet, mouth ghosting across your body. 

He traces a path upwards, his hands keeping you grounded as you arch against him, goosebumps rising in the wake of his ministrations. He deviates from his path only once, to press a feather soft kiss against your newest wound, and you hiss, fingers flying to tangle in his hair. 

It shouldn’t hurt so much, but his mouth feels like a brand, his nose brushing along the underside of your breast, lighting a fire within you that you had assumed died long ago. He murmurs out something you don’t quite catch against your skin before he returns the drag of his mouth between your breasts, up until he’s pressing kisses against your jaw, his forehead bumping against your cheek as he shakes his head. 

He exhales shakily again, and you tilt your head ever so slightly, needing to see him, needing to see the disgust, the pity in his eyes. You need him to give you a reason to push him away, a reason to hate him so neither of you start something you can’t finish. 

But all you see is a quiet fury buried in those crimson eyes, smothered by a emotion you’ve only ever seen in those very eyes the last time you’d seen him. You’re not ready to admit what it is yet, denial flooding you even as your mind supplies the word. 

Love. 

It’s like all the air rushes from your lungs, and you’re sure in that very moment, if it wasn’t for his firm grip, that you’d simply crumple under the weight of your realization. 

He draws you back to him, nose bumping yours when one of his hands cups the back of your head, fingers burying themselves in your hair. He opens his mouth and immediately closes it again, breathing in sharply through his nose before he speaks again, eyes shutting. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.” 

And just like that, you can’t resist his pull anymore, closing the distance as the first tear rolls down your cheek. 

Stoop I am a sucker for the misunderstanding trope. "You heard what you did but it wasn't what it was" STAB MY HEART AND TAKE MY MONEY.

Hey there! I’ve been reading some of your five and I was wondering-

Could you maybe write a fic about Neteyam falling in love with a Metkayina girl- thinking she’s beautiful but doesn’t know how to say it to her so he asks Tsireya and y/n overhears and misunderstands, thinking he’s in love with Tsireya instead of her :)

I love your writing by the way- so much 💙

Misunderstood

summary: neteyam asks for advice from tsireya to confess to you, however, you misunderstand thinking he loves tsireya

2k words, fem!metkayinareader

──── ⑅*❀*⑅ ────

Three months. It truly didn’t feel like you had known Neteyam for three short months. It felt like you had known him for eternity. Like souls reconnecting in the ever-continuing circle of life. You felt at peace being with him, his presence was grounding, his words were hymns and his beauty was breathtaking.

The first time you felt this connection towards him was in the first couple weeks of knowing Neteyam. You were both swimming in the crystal water, watching the passing aquatic life. His eyes were wide full of amazement, it was endearing to see someone so enthralled in something you knew as normal.

It was when you looked away for a moment to go and interact with a school of small glowing fish that called your name. You let them swim around you some of the fish even swimming towards your face to give what most resembled a kiss on the cheek. Letting out small giggles you told the fish to move onto their next step on their ever long journey of the sea, and you spotted him.

You spotted him gazing into you, his eyes soft and his mouth in a small smile as he just observed you. Your cheeks immediately heated up, so you immediately broke eye contact with Neteyam to swim to the surface of the water, to regain a little composure. That was the day your eye was forever set on Neteyam Sully.

Unbeknownst to your own mind, it was also the day where Neteyam’s eyes were set on you, both figuratively and literally. He was itching to tell you how he felt. His body, his mind, his heart ached when you weren’t in his presence. Even a glimpse of you was enough for him to feel content, he needed you and he craved you.

He thought it was best to ask the girl who knew you the most for advice. Tsireya. Your best friend since childhood, inseparable, always attached by the hip. Who else would he ask in a time like this. If he was gong to confess to you, he was going to do it right.

That’s how he ended up here. Sitting across from Tsireya sitting on a rocky ledge a short walk from the village, blindly blurting his feelings towards you in an affectionate word storm to a amused Tsireya.

“My you do really like Y/N.” She laughed at his face. Sort of similar to a ‘nuh duh’ expression mixed into a ‘I’m on my knees please help me’. It was incredibly amusing for her to watch, especially since she knew about how much you fancied him. “You should just tell her! I promise it will not go sour.” She put a friendly hand on his shoulder patting it in a comforting way.

“But that’s the problem, I have no idea what to say. There’s no possible way that I could ever be cohesive enough to truly tell Y/N how I feel.” Tsireya clapped her hands together, an idea hitting her.

“Close your eyes, and pretend I am Y/N. Try and think of every word carefully and imagine saying it to her.” Neteyam nodded sucking in a deep breath, closing his eyes.

You were on a stroll down the beach, something you made habit since you were young. The evening sky always made you aw. It was a lovely sight to see.

Your focus on the setting sky was drawn away abruptly when you saw two figures sitting on a ledge together. Two familiar figures, Tsireya and Neteyam.

You tried to push down the slight feeling of jealousy crawling up your throat. It was Tsireya, you have nothing to be jealous of.

Walking towards them close enough to hear their conversation. You wish you didn’t investigate, you wish that you weren’t so curious, you should’ve stayed out of it.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever come across… you make my heart flutter when your around and ache when you’re not in front of me. Your hair, your eyes, your smile they’re all just so beautiful. I can’t go another minute without you by my side.”

His voice rung through your head, like a sickening thought that you try to shake away. The pain in your heart spread throughout your body debilitating you or your mind at least. Lips quivering, hands shaking you couldn’t believe this.

Did you mean nothing to him? Was every glance, every word, every touch not worth a thing to him? Gutted, stabbed in the heart as the blade was pushed deeper and deeper into you. You had to escape, you had to leave. You could never look at him again, never talk, never speak to him. Ever.

Heavy breaths and teary eyes. A permanent frown and small sobs. That was all you were right now. You felt hopeless, useless. No. you felt used, lied to.

How could he be so fake, was he always plotting to use your heart like a toy or was he blind to his actions. Blind to the way you looked at him. Blind to the way you touched him. Blind to the way you loved him. The way you fucking loved him.

Livid. Angry. Outraged.

Upset. Depressed. Hurt.

The cycle continued that entire night. How could you sleep? Your mind was cruel to not let go of the way his confession sounded. Sobs wracked through your ribs. Tears stained your face. You wanted nothing more than to escape the thought of him. But how could you do that? You loved him.

Waking up the next day was torturous, the sun pierced your eyes as your head throbbed in pain. You had to avoid him at all costs. You would never talk to him again. You didn’t care if you were his friend, he was your love and quite frankly you didn’t want to look him in his deceitful eyes. Ever. Again.

Your absence took an immediate toll on Neteyam. He noticed your absence like you’d notice a fish in a desert. He wondered what you were busy doing all day long. Not even spotting you once throughout the day.

He wasn’t too worried though, he knew Tsireya, and the rest of his siblings were meant to have another swimming lesson today, and you always tagged along. Neteyam tried to knock the worried feelings out of his chest, you must just be busy.

However, you were anything but busy. You laid in your hammock all day, barely moving a muscle. Depression? Maybe that’s what it was, but it wasn’t. It was heartbreak. Heartbreak so painful it was as if your heart was a fresh wound, bleeding out, begging for assistance.

You knew you were meant to go to a lesson with Tsireya today. But she could handle it, I mean she had been handling Neteyam’s feelings all by herself so why shouldn’t she be able to teach the stupid lanky boy to swim. Just more reason for him to talk to her.

Even thinking about the two together made you tear up. How pathetic you felt, moping in a hammock over a stupid forest boy. You felt stupid. No. You knew you were stupid. Thinking that Neteyam could ever like you with a beauty like Tsireya by your side constantly. You were idiotic to think that anyone would look your way.

The moment the lesson started without you Neteyam’s heart pounded. Where were you? His mind raced with concern, worry lacing his features as he frowned barely able to compute the instructions Tsireya and Ao’nung were giving him.

“Guys, where’s Y/N?” Neteyam asked his eyes scanning the shore constantly to check if you were just late.

“I saw her in her hammock today while walking back home. I don’t think she’s really moved since.” Ao’nung shrugged watching Neteyam’s concern growing stronger.

Was something troubling you? Were you sick? Why didn’t you confide in him?

“Did you speak to her?” His voice sharp and laced with fear. He needed to see you, he needed to check on you.

“I tried … asked her if she was alright and she grumbled at me and told me to fuck off. She’s in a really pleasant mood today.” Ao’nung joked at the end but before anyone could even chuckle at his joke, Neteyam was sprinting towards where you resided.

Neteyam was worried, he was so incredibly worried. What plagued you so much that you couldn’t even bare to get up all day.

You swung side to side, your headache and hunger forming together to create a nauseous feeling that you couldn’t even be bothered to remedy. That’s when your nauseous feeling became overwhelming and only because you saw a panicking Neteyam stride towards you at an alarmingly fast pace.

If you weren’t motivated to move before, now you were. You hopped off your hammock making eye contact with Neteyam. You wished you could of walked just slightly fast but the fatigue of moping around doing nothing really hit you.

“Y/N! Wait!” He shouted just a couple strides away from you but you didn’t want to face him, you couldn’t even get out a word because you were scared your voice would turn into a angry fit of sobs.

You walked so fast that if you sped up more it would be considered a jog. “Stop walking away from me!” He shouted catching up to you. Wrapping his nimble fingers around your wrist. You stopped dead in your tracks refusing to look at the man holding you.

“Go away. I don’t want to see you.”

The venom in your tone may have smashed Neteyam’s heart just then. Millions of splinters of his heart cascading across the floor.

“What’s wrong Y/N? What’s upset you so much?” A scoff erupted from your throat, a scoff making Neteyam wince at the way your face hardened into an unforgiving stare.

“I’m not sure Neteyam.”

 He hated how you said his name with such anger, he didn’t want to make you angry.

“For some crazy reason I have this monologue stuck in the depths of my mind… it goes something along the lines of. ‘You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever come across.’ ‘You make my heart flutter when your around and ache when you’re not in front of me.’ Does it sound familiar to you Neteyam? Because I’m sure Tsireya would recognise it.”

His mind suddenly pieced together. You thought those words were meant for Tsireya. You thought he confessed to your best friend. You thought that he didn’t love you.

“No Y/N please listen.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. The sight of you makes me want to cry.”

“But Y/N please you have to understand.” He held onto your hands desperately. Eyes filling with water as he looked down at your quivering lips. He’d really fucked this one up.

“Understand what Neteyam. Understand that you never liked me?”

“No, I never liked you.”

You couldn’t hold back the tears that ran down your face. You didn’t exact want confirmation that he didn’t like you. The feeling of betrayal seemed to rack in your chest quickly, and stronger than ever.

“Y/N… I love you. I love you so much. I see you.” His hands moved from your hands to wipe the tears off your swollen face. The guilt of making you cry bubbled in his ribs making his eyes start to run as well.

“But you said-”

“Tsireya was giving me advice on how to confess to you. I wanted it to be perfect, I wanted to kiss you as eclipse started and wake up the next morning knowing you were mine and I was yours. But it doesn’t seem to be going in that direction.” Neteyam listened to the small sniffles you let out as your face contorted into a soft smile.

“I see you.” Three simple words. Simple words that conveyed the monsoon of emotions you had faced in the past couple days.

Three simple words that let Neteyam have the courage to kiss you. To kiss you so softly that every ounce of love he had for you poured into you.

While it wasn’t the perfect confession Neteyam was planning, he still got what he wanted, what he needed.

And all he needed was you.

──── ⑅*❀*⑅ ────

authors note: i LOVED this request and got carried away. tried to make it a wee bit angsty

Growl

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐃

DAY 16: PILLOW HUMPING + PHONE SEX

With: Tamaki Amajiki

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Sub! Top! Tamaki, bottom! gn! reader, praise kink, slight breeding kink, reader is a slight tease and tamaki is trying not to pass out from embaressment, fantasies, creampie in fantasy Y/N? does that need a tag?

A/N: another fic i STRUGGLED with. idk whyyyy.

Tamaki knows he shouldn't be doing this. He knows that if anyone ever saw him, he would be deemed a weirdo, a pervert, really. But it was just so hard. 

It's not fair that you left him alone. Its not fair that you made him miss you until his heart ached. It's not fair that you havent touched him in longer than three weeks. Its not fair that he is here, straddling a pillow, while you probably aren't even thinking of him at all.

The whole thing makes him fume red. Humping a pillow was as desperate as it gets. His hand wasnt doing it for him anymore, he needs to move his hips, pretend he is fucking something. It was bound to give him more satisfaction. Or he hoped it did, but it doesnt change the fact that it was embarrassing.

The pillow was soft, but sturdy, and held a bit of stability. It wouldn't crumble against the sheets with each thrust, nor be too feathery to really feel anything. A good pillow – it will work fine.

He wears one of your shirts. An oversized one, that seems to drown him with the fabric. It smelled like you, and he has to refrain from pressing the collar of it against his nose. It would only turn him on more, and thats not what he needed right now.

Tamaki's hands tremble as he adjusts himself. He flips the hem of your shirt upward to give himself a view of his thin cock. Its red, and pulsing, ready for him to begin moving. He brings his hands up to his face, covering it with the back of his palm. “So embarrassing,” He whines into the empty room, but not moving from his position on top of the pillow.

He stables himself, and then very hesitantly drags his hips forward. The bottom of his dick grazes against the pillow and he takes a deep breath. Its soft, slightly cold from the lack of human contact with it, but he doesnt mind warming it up. He grinds himself forward again, his two hands gripping at the front of the pillow to slightly pull it up, giving him more area to brush himself on.

He whimpers, closing his eyes and falling into a steady pace. It's not as pleasurable as he wanted it to be, and it was driving him insane. But he liked the feeling of riding something, and he pretended the pillow was you. The thought spurs him on, and his pace begins to pick up. The movements of his hips are short, quick, and he slightly bounces on it. Tamakis breath becomes short, and he sighs into the open air, throwing his head back and humping whatever surface of the soft fabric he could. 

A couple minutes go by and he was on the verge of crying from frustration. It barely made him feel any better, and he was going to have to be here for awhile if he wanted to cum. He grabs onto your shirt and brings it up to his nose, inhaling your scent and groaning into the fabric. It made him feel a bit better.

Suddenly, he hears the familiar vibrations from his phone. He was getting a call, and the last thing he wanted to do was talk to someone. But, he wasn't one to ignore something that could be important. So, he leans forward and flips over the phone. When he sees your name with an abundance of heart emojis that you typed in for your own contant info, his eyes light up.

He inches toward the answer button, but pauses for a second, realizing the position he is in. It was definitely not appropriate to talk to you like this, but he wanted desperately to hear your voice. It was gross and pathetic, but didnt you say you like when he acts pathetic? Besides, you could definitely fix his problem. You know exactly what to do to make him feel good.

So he answers the phone, and waits for you to speak. 

“Hey love,” You hum through his phone, and he almost whines out from that alone. He glances back down at his cock, a glob of precum dripping down pathetically onto the pillow. He covers his face in embarrassment.

“Hi Y/N,” He mumbles into the mic, staring at his fingers, and doing anything he can to ignore his cock. He wants to ask you for help, but how? Even after all this time of being together, he has never voiced his sexual wants and needs. It was just too hard to, and besides you always seemed to find out his desires one way or another.

“Whatcha up to?”

Tamaki pauses. Lying was definitely not one of his specialties, and to you? He was a goner for sure. He goes silent for longer than 30 seconds. “Tamaki?”

“Something I shouldn't be doing,” He whispers, falling forward to rest his cheek on the mattress. He still lays straddling the pillow, but now his cock was trapped between his stomach, and the pillow. 

A slight giggle comes from the phone, and he gulps, ignoring the way his dick twitches. “Are you doing something naughty?”

Naughty. Such a childish word, but it was the perfect adjective to describe his situation. It made him feel small, and strangely it brought comfort to him. He nods into the mattress, his hips moving without his permission, and continuing their grinding movements.

“You've gotta speak up for me, love.”

He may be shy, but he would never dare to not listen to a command. “Yes. Sorry.” 

“Yes what?”

He lets out a small whimper, barely audible over the phone. “‘m doing something…naughty.”

The dark haired boy squirms on the bed, listening to the way you inhale sharply. His hands begin to travel downward, but he stops himself before he could start stroking himself off. “What are you doing, love?”

He goes silent for a couple seconds, and he continues to shift around the bed. He gulps and looks down at his leaking cock, and then away. “I’m….I’m humping a…pillow?”

You let out a dramatic, slightly teasing gasp. “So dirty, Tamaki!”

He wants to curl up into a ball and die from embarrassment. He knows you are just poking fun at him, but truly everything about this was so humiliating. “I-I know! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I just miss you so much!” He warbles into the mic, wiping away a stray tear before it could fall.

He was so unbelievably cute, and his plea made your heart throb. “S’alright, relax, love. I miss you so much. So so much,” You reassure, closing your eyes to listen to his breathing. ‘

You hear a sniffle on the other end of the phone. “Why are you crying?”

You expected to hear a response declaring how much he missed seeing you, or having you around. Or maybe how lonely he felt. What you didn't expect was for him to say, “‘m not crying! Im frustrated because I cant cum!”

Tamaki being blunt about his needs was unheard of, and the shock of it made you bark a laugh. He shakes his head into the mattress, but begins his humping again. You already knew at this point what he was doing, and he was already as embarrassed as it gets, so he rather search for more pleasure than wither is his own misery. 

“Well are you doing it right?”

He pauses his movements. Was there a right or wrong way to do it? His horny brain was screaming at him to just get any sort of friction from the white item, but was there a better way to do it? To feel more pleasurable? “I-I dont know…”

“Aren't you pretending that I'm the pillow?” Your words make him yelp, and you hold back a snicker. You were right of course, but the fact that you knew about it made him want to dig himself a hole to hide in.

But nevertheless, his hips havent stopped their movements. Its a slow pace, just enough to make his breaths heavier. “Yeah,” He breathes into the mic, so quite that you almost missed it.

You hum to yourself, hand traveling over your own body to get yourself in the mood. “Then you need a hole to fuck, dont you, pretty boy?”

The statement causes him to lose his breath and he can't think quick enough to find a response. You continue on, “Put two pillows together so that you can get friction on both sides of your pretty little cock. It will feel so much better,” You encourage, and his eyes instantly travel to the extra pillow just inches away from him. He gulps, but grabs onto it, and places it under his lower stomach and on top of his dick.

“N-Now what?”

“It's not rocket science, silly. Fuck it now. But make sure to keep the pillow beneath your stomach, so that the hole is tighter.”

He blushes at his stupid words, but instead focuses on your advice. He pulls out, and then pushes himself back into the two soft cushions. He groans out, and sets the phone on speaker and places it next to his face. This was way better, and he needed to focus.

You hear his breaths get quicker and you smile. “There ya are. Does it feel better, Tamaki?”

He uses his hands to push the pillows together, creating a even smaller hole. But he nods at your words, staring at your profile picture with tears in his eyes. “W-Wish it was you. Not as tight…Warm.”

You hands travel toward your pants at the words. “Yeah? Use your imagination, love. Pretend that's me, what do you want to do with me?”

His whole body caves over on himself, and he bucks his hips frantically. His face is a bright shade of pink, and he wears a wobbly, but content smile. “Wanna—Wanna….You to tell me what to do,” He whines out, fingers dragging along the beds sheets, wishing it was your back.

You snicker at him, not surprised by his words. “You are hopeless, Tamaki. So submissive, its so cute, you know that? You know how cute you are?”

He covers his face with his arm, moaning and whining into the soft skin. “Stop it…” He mumbles half heartedly, loving every drop of praise from your mouth.

“You love it,” You tease, and he secretly nods into the bedsheets, but not daring to tell you. “Alright, let's have you cum, hmm? Can you close your eyes for me?”

His eyes flutter shut before you could even finish your sentence. “‘kay.” 

“Good job,” You murmur, and he gulps, nuzzling his face into the bed, pretending it’s your chest. “Now move your hips for me. In and out, yeah?.”

He doesn’t have to do much, considering that he has been doing this exact same movement for the past couple minutes now. He doesn’t say anything, afraid you may poke fun at him again. “Tamakiiiii,” You purr, “I need to hear a response.”

“Sorry. Yes, yes, I‘m doing it. Promise!” He splutters, trying to maintain a steady pace of breathing. It was feeling so much better with both sides hugging him, but your voice was definitely helping as well.

You let out a breath, and smile. “Good boy. Now, tell me, what are you imagining. Wanna hear the specifics, love.”

He whines at this. He didnt want to expose his thoughts; you would definitely think he was weird. A pervert who cant go a couple weeks without cumming. “Nooooo,” He whimpers, eyes still shut. “So embarrassing.”

Your voice turns commanding in an instant. “Oh? Stop moving then.”

Unwillingly he listens, his body so used to listening to your commands, that he doesn't even process what you said until he stopped his hips. He groans into the sheets, and feels his cock twitch within the pillows. It doesn't want to stop. “Noooo,” He complains once more, hating the way tears begin to build up, and threaten to spill over his closed eyes.

Your heart throbs at the small whimpers he lets out, and your strict tone seems to melt away. “You have to listen if you want to cum, baby. I know its embarrassing, but I want you to feel good. Dont be shy, I won't judge you.”

You hear a sniffle from the other end of the phone. “Okay. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. C-Can I move now? I'll tell you my…my fantasy.” 

You hum encouragingly at him, and he takes it as a yes, slowly beginning to move his hips again. He sighs at the softness, nodding his head to himself. But, he doesn't get too lost in his pleasure, he has to hold up the end of the bargain. “I-Im pretended the pillow is you.”

You roll your eyes slightly, a grin on your face. He was obviously nervous if he was stating the obvious. “Yeah? Are you fucking me nice and hard?”

Your words are so lewd and he fumes red at them. “U-Um…Yeah. Y-You feel so good.” Referring to the makeshift hole as you, makes him feel slightly bad. He knows you are may more than that to him. But it was obvious that you were trying to initiate some sort of phone sex, and he didn't want to ruin the moment.

Your fingers travel down to your pants, and you finally get comfortable. You begin to touch yourself, trying to imagine yourself into his fantasy. “So deep Tamaki,” You purr, sighing into the mic.

His eyes widen for a split second, but he quickly shuts them again. At your words, he finds himself thrusting himself deeper into the hole, mewling out as pre covers the soft fabric. He finds himself imagining you beneath him, grinning up at him with a flushed out, but cocky grin. 

“Fuck,” He whispers gently to the image of you. “I missed you so much. So so much.”

“Missed you too,” You murmur, throwing your head back slightly. “Doing so well for me.”

His hips stutters at the praise, and he gulps. Whenever you praise him, it sends his head spinning, and he loves it more than anything. “F-For you. Only for you!”

The position he was in was so lewd. His mouth slightly gnawing on his hand, his hips thrusting into two pillows, and his body a bright shade of pink. The bed was even creaking from his intense movements, but he didnt seem to care. “P-Praise me…More, please?”

“You're doing so good. Making me feel so good, Tamaki. Are you going to make me cum?”

He nods his head frantically, loving the idea more than anything. To make himself cum was one thing, but making you feel good enough to cum was a whole other thing. It made the service sub in him preen, and his thrusts are more desperate now. He imagines you shivering, and moaning into his neck, maybe even leaving scratch marks down his back. “Yes. Yes, I'll make you cum. I'll make you feel so good, please!”

You smile lazily at the wall. “Such a good boy. I'm so lucky to have such a pretty and obedient boyfriend.”

A wobbly smile is tugging at his face, and he feels like a schoolgirl. Giddy, and nervous around you and your voice. He swears the fantasy becomes more surreal. The pillow seems to be hugging him just how you would, and in the back of his mind he can hear the slapping of skin upon skin. “I love you. I love you so much, you feel so good. I can't hold it much longer!”

“Aw are you going to cum already?” You tease, feeling your own high approaching rapidly.

At the words he lets out a dramatic whine, feeling guilty. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Y-You just…oh god. Feel so good!” He warbles, shaking hands gripping onto the phone. He spreads his legs out wider, finding a new position to thrust his hips. His hair begins to stick to his head, and with every breath, a moan slips past his lips.

You are on the same page, hands moving quicker to hopefully match his high. “Its alright. Im going to cum to. Are you going to cum inside me? Wanna fill me up?”

He heaves at your words, hearts in his eyes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. He did desperately. It was way better than pulling out, or cumming into the condom. “Please! Please!”

His moans are high in pitch now, and his pace is sporatic. They are frantic though, and the entire bed shakes with his fierce movements. 

“Good boy. Cum inside me then,” You purr directly into the mic, and his eyes fly open when he cums. He lets out a high pitched scream, and bites his hand to try and stay quite. The boys hips ram into the pillow, and his thoughts are cloudy, thinking about how deep he must be cumming in you. His whole body is shivering in pleasure, and he wears a small smile.

You cum a moment later, shaking and sighing, but not making as much noise as your beloved. You didnt mind, his high pitched moans and screams were cute, you just wished he got over that stupid need to bite his hand whenever he cums. It muffles them way too much for your liking.

Post nut clarity hits Tamaki like a truck and his face turns a bright shade of red. Asking you to praise him, and even begging to cum “inside” you? Humiliating.

“I know what you are thinking, love. Dont be embarrassed. It was fun. Good. What lovers do,” You reassure, knowing his anxiety gets the better of him. 

He takes comfort in your words immediately, slightly nodding to himself and trying to think of something else to hopefully die down the embaressment. He feels exhausted, and instead focuses on that. He pulls out of the pillows with a sigh and brings the phone to his face to begin wishing you goodnight.

His eyes widen when he realizes something, and he lets out a dramatic gasp.

The sound makes you perk up, and you are on immediate alert. “Whats wrong?”

“Oh no. This is bad. What do I do now?” He begins to mumble, eyes scanning across the bed.

“What? What happened?” You question more frantically now, pulling the phone closer to your ear.

It goes silent on the other end for about thirty seconds. He pulls away the two pillows and gulps as his stares at his own product. This was bad. Truly a problem.

“What am I supposed to sleep on tonight?”

It takes everything in you to not hang up on him.

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Storm

Katsuki Bakugou x Ex!Reader

Summary: He's been cheating and youre feeling the best feeling of all..Anger

Warnings: Breaking stuff, violence (towards objects never physical to a person), hot ex reader, swearing

He must've forgot who the fuck he was dealing with.

Bakugou fucking Katsuki really must have a screw loose if he thought he could get away with lying, cheating, and straight up being an asshole.

The sneaking around your house that you both shared. Catching whiffs of perfume too overbearing to be your own, making you gag and your nose runny.

You gave him a chance to come clean, asking him one night when he came home, turning the lamp on. He froze as he caught you smiling, a small cup of whiskey in your hand.

"Who were you with?"

"You really think that of me huh?" He scoffed, trying to gaslight you for asking him a simple question, "Katsu, I never mentioned you were doing something.." you swirled your liquor and took a long sip, eyes darting to his and you watched him like a Lion stalking a Mouse.

"Promiscuous," your voice was like a sticky sweet honey, daring him to act a fool.

"Forget it, I'm going the hell to bed,"

And like that, you had him hook, line and you were going to sink him.

~.~

Of course, before you could be the one to end it. He decided to get a step ahead and you came home one day to him throwing your stuff out onto the street, a girl clinging to his arm.

"We're over, I shouldn't have to settle for some entitled bitch asking me, the Number 4 Hero, shit and getting pissy if I don't wanna answer," he snapped, but he tried to ignore the small twinge of fear when your emotionless gaze bore into him.

"Oh really?" Was all you asked, head tilted, eyes moving from his to the girl on his arm. She appeared to be about your age, maybe a couple younger.

"Sorry sweetie, if you can't keep up with the best then someone else will," her cheap lipgloss wasn't helping her already cracked lips. Her fake giggle was like listening to a pick me girl record, which is basically all she was.

A pick me bitch.

"Since everything is in my name, get your shit and leave," Katsuki smirked, trying to puff up to show his dominance. Oh you'll show him dominance alright.

"Fine, but I have one more thing I need to grab," you shoved past him, the new girls squeak of surprise when she stumbled, her heels too skinny to handle the weight change.

You walked into the hall closet, grabbing your bat.

"Don't touch anything!" His voice yelled into the house but the next sound following had him growling, curses flying out of his mouth as he heard crashes and glass shattering.

You swing the bat and broke the TV you paid for. The China cabinet that was a gift from his parents for Christmas from when they went to visit China on vacation.

Cups and plates crashed around you as you continued to swing, the girls high pitched scream making your ears ring as you dodged Katsuki who was cussing you out.

You ducked under his arm and got outside, your bat coming down hard on his precious Buggati. A birthday present to himself, that he bought on your fucking birthday.

"BITCH! FUCKING STOP!" He screamed as your cracked the windows, shattering the tail lights.

"But I'm not touching anything," you growled, throwing the bat in his direction as he dodged, unluckily being missed by the bat. "IM FUCKING DESTROYING IT!"

You brought out your pocket knife that you kept on you for safety and slashed 3 of his tires, jabbing it into the metal of the car. Puncture marks left as Katsuki finally found some ounce of motion to run over and snatch the knife out of your hand.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM!? GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"

"Hope he wrapped it up sis cause he's got the clap! And I know I didn't give it to him!" You called over your shoulder, flipping them off as you sauntered to your car as you listened to the screaming that was now happening up the drive way.

"Have fun Katsu~" you blew a mocking kiss as he screamed about his car while he was getting hit by the pick me bitches hands.

*Hits reblog so many times its puts sabre bruises to shame*

Colorguard is much more

Colorguard has become a growing pastime within the United States and has slowly spread throughout the world.

These “cheerleader rejects” consist of men and women who go through a physically demanding process with one goal in mind.

To tell a story.

These stories are told through coordinated movement of the body joined with spinning a flag, rifle, sabre, or another show worthy prop.

Due to the social stratification of colorguard the majority groups within the United States deem these talented individuals as a minority within their own profession.

This sociopolitical typology has created a wall between the limitless opportunities that this sport of the arts could open for any individual with the mental drive for colorguard.

In my high school colorguard we collaborated with the dance line and cheerleaders and allowed them to participate in a reciprocity type exchange of ideas.

People tend to follow the majority group when the topic of colorguard is brought to the table and a very ethnocentric attitude is directed towards colorguard members.

Today we are still fighting the Civil Rights Movement, where people still are restricted their basic human rights because of personal beliefs of the majority group.

Colorguard presents an international cultural exchange between the lines of race, gender, and social status, which are social constructs of almost every society.

Everyone with the able means and drive to express themselves through this sport are well rounded citizens that U.S. culture can benefit from.

Their outlook on life is different from the majority group and they are more sensitive to the human condition.

Colorguard members interpret life experiences through dance and this is the best way to physically express the human experience of life.