“her Lovely Hazel Eyes”

UNDERNEATH.ᐟ

pairing ᝰ.ᐟ sister's bf! lee heeseung x reader

genre ᝰ.ᐟ smut

warnings ᝰ.ᐟ cheating, fingering, etc.

natty’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ part 2 of she’s right, mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

you don’t know how it happened—how you ended up like this, pressed into the armrest of the couch, your body tense with awareness. it wasn’t supposed to be like this. but somehow, heeseung had found his way right next to you, his presence suffocating, his warmth radiating off of him like a silent taunt.

your sister lay draped over his chest, her focus entirely on the movie playing on the tv, oblivious to the way his attention wasn’t on her.

it was on you.

your breath catches the moment you feel it—his fingers, featherlight, grazing against the exposed skin of your thigh. the touch is barely there, but it sends a ripple of heat through you, goosebumps rising in its wake. you swallow hard, your heart pounding as his fingers continue their slow, deliberate path, tracing lazy patterns against your skin.

heeseung acts as if nothing is happening, his eyes locked onto the screen, his face unreadable. but his fingers say otherwise. they move with intention, creeping higher, brushing just under the hem of your shorts.

you suck in a sharp breath, fingers curling into the fabric of the blanket draped over your lap, your body screaming at you to move—to stop this before it goes too far.

but you don’t.

because as much as you hate to admit it, a part of you is frozen in place, anticipation thick in your veins, waiting to see just how far he’s willing to go.

“heeseung—” you whisper, your voice barely audible, breath hitching as you feel the gentle but insistent tug of his fingers on the waistband of your shorts. your body tenses, heat pooling low in your stomach, torn between the fear of being caught and the undeniable thrill of his touch.

his eyes flicker to yours, dark and unreadable, his lips curling into the faintest smirk before he leans in just enough for his breath to fan against your ear.

“shh, baby…” he murmurs, voice low and teasing, his fingers toying with the elastic of your shorts, pulling it back slightly before releasing it, letting it snap softly against your skin. the action is subtle, but it sends a jolt through you, your pulse pounding in your ears.

your gaze darts toward your sister, still curled up against his chest, completely unaware of the illicit touches happening just inches away from her. her eyes remain glued to the tv, her face illuminated by the flickering glow of the screen, lost in the movie while you’re trapped in this dangerous moment with her boyfriend.

heeseung shifts slightly, angling himself closer, his fingers dipping just beneath the fabric now, skimming along the soft skin of your hip. his touch is slow, lazy, as if he has all the time in the world.

“you’re so tense,” he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. “just relax, baby… let me take care of you.”

your fingers dig into the couch, knuckles white, trying to ground yourself as the weight of the situation crashes down on you. this is wrong. so, so wrong.

but the way heeseung’s fingers move—the way his voice seeps into your skin like honey—makes it so damn hard to stop.

before you can fully process what’s happening, you feel it—his hand slipping under your shorts, fingers deftly pushing past the waistband of your panties. your breath catches in your throat, your entire body stiffening as his fingertips brush against your already-soaked folds. the touch is light, teasing, but the sensation sends a shiver through you, your thighs instinctively parting just enough to grant him access.

his fingers move slowly at first, tracing along your slit, gathering your slickness before pressing just a little harder. the faintest grunt slips from his lips, barely audible, but you hear it—feel the way his body shifts slightly, adjusting himself as if even just touching you like this is too much for him to handle.

“fuck…” heeseung exhales, his voice rough, almost strained.

his fingers continue their lazy exploration, circling around your entrance but never fully pushing in, his touch deliberate, torturous. he drags his fingers through your wetness, spreading it, his breathing growing heavier as he feels just how ready you are for him.

your nails dig into the cushion beneath you, your heart hammering in your chest as you risk a glance at your sister. she’s still nestled against him, completely unaware, lost in the glow of the movie playing on the screen.

but you’re not.

you’re drowning in the heat of his touch, in the way his fingers glide against you with practiced ease, in the way his breath grows heavier, hotter, with every passing second.

heeseung tilts his head slightly, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “so fucking wet… all for me.”

your head tilts back against the couch, eyes fluttering shut as a wave of pleasure rolls through you. his fingers stroke your clit with an agonizing precision—slow, deliberate circles that send electric shocks pulsing through your core. the sensation is overwhelming, your thighs jerking slightly in response, but heeseung only tightens his grip, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

your breath comes in shallow pants, chest rising and falling with each teasing motion of his fingers. every stroke is a calculated push, a silent command for you to give in, to let go, to let him take you apart piece by piece.

you bite down on your lip, desperate to stay quiet, but then heeseung moves lower, his fingers gliding through your slick folds before dipping inside you. the stretch is slow, torturous, as he eases one, then two fingers into your heat, filling you inch by inch.

a muffled whimper threatens to escape, your body trembling as he curls his fingers just right, pressing into that sensitive spot that makes your stomach clench.

“so fucking good for me…” heeseung whispers, his breath hot against your ear, voice thick with lust. his fingers move in steady, deliberate strokes, pumping in and out of you, his thumb still working your clit in perfect rhythm.

the room feels unbearably hot, every nerve in your body hyperaware of his touch, the weight of your sister’s presence only making it all the more intoxicating.

“keep quiet, baby,” heeseung murmurs, smirking as he presses a kiss to the side of your neck. “or she’s gonna find out just how much of a mess you’re making for me.”

you clench helplessly around his fingers at his filthy words, a muffled whimper slipping past your lips before you can swallow it down. the heat in your stomach coils tighter, twisting into something unbearable as heeseung continues working you open, his fingers curling with calculated precision, pressing against that sweet spot inside you that makes your entire body tense.

just when you think you might be able to keep yourself under control, heeseung suddenly withdraws, leaving you empty for a brief, torturous second before pushing back in—this time with three fingers.

the stretch is intense, burning in the best way possible, your walls instinctively clenching around him as your back arches slightly. a sharp gasp rips from your throat, louder than you intended, the sound echoing in your own ears like a betrayal. panic surges through you, your sister still so close, and you barely have time to react before you’re slapping a trembling hand over your mouth, muffling your own pleasure.

heeseung doesn’t stop—if anything, he takes your reaction as an invitation. his pace quickens, fingers plunging deeper, fucking into you with a quiet desperation that makes your thighs shake. his free hand grips your inner thigh, keeping you open for him, making sure you take everything he gives you.

“that’s it, baby,” heeseung whispers against your ear, his voice dripping with amusement and arousal. “feel so fucking good squeezing me like that.”

your legs tremble violently as the pleasure builds, your entire body on fire, dangerously close to the edge. and the worst part?

you have to stay completely silent while he ruins you.

“naughty girl,” heeseung breathes against your ear, his voice laced with amusement and something darker, something possessive. his fingers never slow, plunging deep inside you, curling just right as he watches every desperate reaction spill across your face. “letting me finger fuck you while your sister is right here… you really have no shame, do you?”

his words make your stomach tighten, the coil inside you winding impossibly tight, threatening to snap at any moment. your breathing is uneven, ragged, your body trembling as his fingers continue their ruthless pace.

“should i even let you cum?” he taunts, his lips barely grazing your jaw as he whispers the cruel question.

your eyes fly open, desperate, pleading, as you meet his dark, hungry gaze. heeseung looks utterly amused, completely in control, reveling in the way you’re falling apart at his touch.

you nod furiously, your movements frantic, your entire body begging for release without a single word. your grip on the couch tightens, your free hand still clamped over your mouth, muffling the whimpers that threaten to spill out as the pleasure builds to a breaking point.

heeseung smirks, clearly enjoying your desperation. his fingers slow just enough to make you whine softly against your palm, your hips bucking in silent protest.

“hmm,” he muses, pretending to think as his thumb lazily circles your clit, sending another jolt of pleasure straight through you. “i don’t know, baby. do you really deserve it?”

“y—yes, heeseung—please…” you whimper softly, voice barely above a breath, laced with desperation. your head tilts back against the couch, eyes fluttering shut as your body completely surrenders to his touch. every nerve is on fire, every sensation heightened by the sheer risk of the moment, by the fact that your sister is still so close—completely unaware of how her boyfriend is ruining you right beside her.

your thighs tremble, threatening to snap shut around his hand, but heeseung doesn’t allow it. his fingers keep working you open, pressing deeper, curling with perfect precision as his thumb continues slow, teasing circles against your clit. the pleasure is overwhelming, stealing the air from your lungs, making it nearly impossible to stay quiet.

heeseung watches you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips curving into a wicked smirk at the sight of you coming undone for him. he leans in, his breath warm against your skin, his voice nothing more than a whisper against your ear.

“look at you,” he murmurs, his tone dripping with amusement. “so fucking desperate. you want to cum that badly, baby? even with her right here?”

you can’t even bring yourself to answer—only a shaky, breathless moan escapes as your fingers clutch at the fabric beneath you, holding on for dear life.

“please, seungie—i can’t…” you whimper, your voice trembling, barely coherent through the haze of pleasure consuming you. your entire body is wound tight, every muscle tensed as the pleasure builds higher, dangerously close to spilling over.

the hand that had been gripping the couch in a desperate attempt to ground yourself now flies up to your mouth, pressing firmly against your lips to stifle the moans threatening to slip out. your breaths come in short, ragged gasps against your palm, the heat of your own touch doing little to muffle the sounds completely.

your other hand, shaky and weak, reaches out blindly, searching for something—anything—to hold onto. it finds heeseung’s wrist, fingers curling around it in a silent plea. his skin is hot beneath your touch, his pulse steady, unbothered, in contrast to the absolute mess he’s turning you into.

heeseung smirks, clearly reveling in your desperation. his fingers don’t slow, still thrusting into you with that agonizing precision, curling just right, dragging against every sensitive spot inside you like he knows your body better than you do.

“can’t what, baby?” he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “can’t take it? or can’t hold it in?”

his words only make it worse, make the coil in your stomach tighten even more, make your thighs shake as you struggle to stay quiet. heeseung chuckles, his free hand sliding up your thigh, squeezing lightly before whispering,

“then be a good girl and cum for me… but don’t you dare make a sound.”

his words are your undoing. the moment they leave his lips, the coil in your stomach snaps violently, pleasure crashing over you in thick, pulsing waves. your entire body tenses before completely unraveling, your back arching slightly against the couch as you fall apart on his fingers.

your hand clamps down tighter over your mouth, pressing so firmly against your lips that your knuckles turn white, desperate to keep yourself silent. a muffled whimper escapes anyway, swallowed by your palm as your walls flutter around his fingers, gripping them like a vice.

heeseung groans under his breath, feeling the way you gush around him, soaking his fingers, dripping down his hand. his movements don’t stop—he keeps thrusting, slower now, dragging out every last bit of your high, prolonging your pleasure until you’re trembling beneath his touch.

your thighs quiver uncontrollably, your muscles weak and useless as the aftershocks ripple through you. your free hand, the one clinging to his wrist, squeezes weakly, as if silently begging him to stop, to give you a moment to recover.

but heeseung doesn’t pull away immediately. instead, he lets his fingers linger inside you, feeling the way your walls still clench around him, your body twitching with sensitivity. his gaze flickers to your sister for a split second, ensuring she’s still lost in the movie before his eyes return to you—dark, satisfied.

finally—finally—he eases his fingers out of you, the slow drag making your breath hitch, your body still reeling from the high.

he doesn’t say anything at first. he just stares at you, watching the way your chest rises and falls, the way your lips part slightly behind your trembling hand, the way your thighs still quiver from the intensity of it all.

then, with slow, deliberate movements, heeseung lifts his fingers—glistening, coated in the evidence of your pleasure. the sight alone makes your stomach tighten, heat rushing to your cheeks as you watch, wide-eyed, unable to look away.

his expression remains unreadable, but there’s something dark, something dangerously smug in the way he parts his lips, slipping his fingers into his mouth with an agonizing slowness. his tongue flicks over them, savoring every trace of your slickness, his eyes still fixed on the tv as if this were nothing more than a casual indulgence.

but you see it—the way his chest rises just a little deeper, the subtle twitch in his jaw, the tension in his shoulders betraying the restraint he’s barely holding onto. he hums lowly, the sound barely audible over the hum of the screen, but you hear it, feel the vibration of his satisfaction curl in your stomach.

when his fingers finally slip free, shining with the wetness of his lips, heeseung exhales slowly, savoring the lingering taste like something he isn’t ready to let go of just yet. then, as if nothing happened, he lowers his hand, the movement unhurried, almost lazy, as he lets it fall onto his lap.

the room remains quiet except for the murmur of the tv, your sister still nestled against his chest, completely unaware of the sinful act that had just unfolded inches away from her.

your breath is uneven, your thighs still trembling slightly, your body betraying you as the ghost of his touch lingers, pulsing between your legs.

heeseung doesn’t look at you, doesn’t acknowledge what just happened—not outright. but his smirk deepens, his fingers tapping absently against his thigh, the motion slow, rhythmic, taunting.

and then, in a voice just above a whisper, meant only for you, he mutters, “that’s my good girl.”

natty’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ okay if you read my last one, act like it never existed, this is a lot better and i’m actually happy with how it turned out :))

sorry to be negative on the dash but..... y'all need to be nicer to fanfic writers. we all know interactions are decreasing, and even during the nine months i've been on here, i've noticed a decrease.

tell writers you like their works. comment on their works, reblog their works.

some of you act so entitled, and idk if you've noticed but you're literally making writers miserable. it makes me so sad to see my mutuals deactivate because the joy of writing has been taken away from them by ungrateful readers who are constantly demanding more, more, more, to the point where people are experiencing burnout and anxiety because they can't keep up with the constant unrealistic demands.

reminder that even though it takes you five minutes to read 1k words it might've taken the writer hours to get the words down, proofread, edit, and make the perfect fic layout.

some of you complain that there are no "good" fics anymore, yet you do nothing for the fandom, do nothing to support writers and just hide behind anon and blank blogs, complaining about every little thing till you've driven all writers off this site.

it's so tiring. please be kinder. we're all trying our best here.

i saw the tyler fic u did where instead of him being impale, it was his gf! do you think u could do that but with aiden’s gf and the ceiling? 🫶

── SHE HIT THE FLOOR! NEXT THING YOU KNOW!

{[AIDEN CLARK X FEM! READER]}

A/N: is the title lyrics from Low by Flo Rida? Yes. Do I think I’m hilarious for this? Also yes.

: ̗̀➛Back to Source

Covering Ashlyn’s ears with your own shaking hands as she trembles from the crazily loud bangs coming from Taylor’s shotgun.

Watching as she shoots the ever loving fuck out of the creepy massive centipede. “… Yeah, uh- Tay, it stopped moving.” Aiden nodded with an uncomfortably big smile, though his semi assuring words fell upon deaf ears.

Giving her a thumbs up as he’s crouched right beside you while you help Ash, having a hand on your shoulder and giving you light squeezes to comfort you or himself, you couldn’t tell.

Taylor upon taking notice that creature is in fact dead…. Hopefully… She lowers the gun as Logan comes up behind her, grabbing her shaking hand soothingly. “We need to hurry in case it recovers.” He spoke reassuringly to the panting Taylor.

Watching the others rummage around the small office while you stood watch at the doorway, was a stressful experience having to keep watch to make sure no phantoms got in and keeping watch over Tyler (who was getting patched up by Ben).

.And no one could find the keys… “Where are they?!” Taylor seethed, slamming shut another keyless drawer.

“Coach must’ve moved them again!” The brunette complained while starting to sigh through another drawer. “Does he move them often?” Ashlyn asked doing her own searching.

“Yeah, because idiots like Jay and Conner keep messing with them!” She scoffed. You would’ve giggled at Taylor being so frustrated for what seems like the first time ever if it wasn’t for your current situation.

You were leaning against Aiden who was fiddling with his army knife, flicking the blade out and flicking it back. “I feel a minor sense of Deja-vu.” He murmured in your ear while smiling to himself. It never failed to amaze you how your boyfriend could always smile no matter what was going on around him. “We have 3 minutes left,..” Logan called out.

Ashlyn perked up at a certain sound her super hearing picked up on, she looked over at you and Aiden. “Guys, there’s a straggler.” Carrot-top warned. Aiden sniggers, nudging you “Yeah, I can hear it running.”

And with that he stabbed the smiling demon monster right in the face, making you cringe at the disgusting squelch sound it made pulling the knife out of the phantoms face. “Got it!” Aiden hummed enthusiastically, skipping over to Ash to show her the black substance it left on his knife.

She of course rolled her eyes, ignoring the blondes antics, her eyes falling back to you. “Is there anymore, Y/n?” She quipped in curiosity.

You peaked out the door, looking left and then right. “Uhhh… nope, we’re good.” You answered, looking over your shoulder at her.

The walls and ground shook, “Huh…?” You mutter to yourself in confusion. “EVERYONE GET UNDER SOMETHING!” You heard someone yell, you were too busy keeping yourself balanced to register anything else in the moment.

POP

The last thing you saw was Aiden reaching out to you, before the ceiling collapsed. “Y/N!” He shrieked, racing towards you. That’s when it all went black.

“C’mon! Get her under the table!” Taylor helped Aiden carry you to the table, everyone crawling under it. Logan, Ben and Taylor hiding under the desk on the other side of the room.

Aiden cradled your body in his arms, rocking back and fourth with he was staring at your face in horror. Blood was leaking from your forehead, and it was also trickling from your nose.

Aiden was on the verge of tears as she wiped the blood from your nose, that’s when he noticed your eyes were wide open and an unsettling grin stretched across your face.

In the real world Aiden shoots up from his sleeping spot, looking around the room until his eyes fell on your shaking form. “Y/N!” He yelled out again. Which caught the attention from the adults in the room over, including your parents/parental figure.

Before he could even get to you, the adults were already around you. Trying to assist your violently thrashing form. You coughed and wheezed, “I’m okay! I’m fine!” You assured the adults, while also trying to calm your heart and and breathing. “-M okay, really…!”

Aiden pounced on you, hugging you tightly, muttering incoherent words while pressing small pecks to your hair and forehead. You leaned into his touch, tears welling up in your own eyes just like his own.

“Don’t scare me like that again.” It was the first time you’ve ever heard him sound so serious…

ft. katsuki bakugo

summary: helping defend his kid from other kids on roblox.

“Katsuki.”

No response.

“Katsuki.”

Still nothing. Just the glow of the screen reflecting off his face, jaw clenched, eyes locked in like he was planning a full-scale battle strategy. His fingers flew across the keyboard, clicking with the precision of a trained assassin.

You folded your arms. “Katsuki Bakugo. You are a grown-ass man playing Roblox.”

He finally looked up from your kid’s gaming setup, scowling. “Yeah? And?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “And you’re a Pro Hero. You fight real villains. You’ve literally saved the world.”

“Yeah, well, right now, I’m savin’ my kid’s goddamn tycoon,” he snapped, turning back to the screen.

Your child, sitting beside him, was absolutely thriving. “GET HIS ASS, DADDY!”

“ON IT, SQUIRT,” Katsuki barked, fingers moving like he was hacking into a government database.

You sighed, watching your fully grown husband—one of the strongest heroes alive—brutalizing a bunch of kids in Roblox because some 10-year-old named BlazeNinja_44 wouldn’t stop spawn-killing your kid.

The chat was on fire.

BlazeNinja_44: BRO WHO IS THIS

ExplosiveDynamight (Katsuki): UR WORST NIGHTMARE, LITTLE ****

BlazeNinja_44: ?????

ExplosiveDynamight: U LIKE SPAWN-KILLIN’ KIDS? HOW BOUT I SPAWN-KILL UR WHOLE BLOODLINE

Your kid cackled kicking their legs back and forth watching his dad go off for him. “Dad, you sound like one of those gamers.”

“GOOD.” Katsuki cracked his knuckles like he was about to drop a finisher move. “This lil’ bastard deserves it.”

You stared in sheer disbelief as your husband—a fully licensed Pro Hero—went on an unstoppable rampage, obliterating a bunch of middle schoolers in an online Lego game.

And worst of all?

Your kid was cheering him on.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I can’t believe I married you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Katsuki muttered, eyes still locked on the screen. “y’know you love me.” he grins.

© sakuraszn! xoxo

!!!!!! your blog is so pretty and your writing style is delectable hello. think about aiden that likes to carry around the reader. just like... bridal carry ? piggy back ? where the reader sits on the shoulders ?? ? yes. tysm !!

This is such a cute request oh my-- i love that !

|No warnings! Just fluff, reader's pronouns are not mentioned !!🤍🤍|

You are literally perfect for Aiden, the perfect match for him. Why? Because he is incredibly clingy. The first time you two met was so chaotic, and you found yourself alone without any friends at school. He simply said, 'Yup! You're mine now' in a friendly way. From that point on, he started annoying you, joining you for lunch, and even introducing you to his friends. He understood how it felt to be alone and friendless, just like Ashlyn. But let's move on from that.

Eventually, you got used to it all and ended up joining their group. None of this had happened to Savannah yet, but the time eventually came when all of you started experiencing strange phenomena, waking up in another realm, and so on. As a fragile, sensitive, and weak person, you could barely keep up with everything. The number of panic attacks you had was overwhelming. It was just so hard for you.

That's when Aiden decided that from now on, you would stick with him (and everyone, if necessary), but mostly close to him. Since you couldn't run and protect yourself, Aiden would have you in his arms. Well, only during running times because he likes to fight, and it would be challenging to do so with you in his arms. But in the real world, he would carry you around like a doll. Like, you would just be walking, minding your own business, and out of nowhere, two arms would lift you up onto his shoulders and he would run around with you. It was pretty fun, actually. As time passed, both of you realized that this was more than just a friendship. He always wanted to have you in his arms, whether it was a playful piggyback ride or carrying you with a more protective grip. It was as if he was afraid of you breaking like glass or leaving him. He became strongly attached to you, and it was difficult for him to be apart from you. But the same goes for you because, after all, you are the perfect match.

I'm really sorry if this isn't what you wanted.. i tried💔

thinking about how bakugou is 100% the type of guy to say “that’s my girl” in response to you doing anything ever

you’re at a bar hanging out with him and his friends, his arm draped over the back of your chair when you spot a claw machine in the far corner.

“kats!” you whisper excitedly, pointing to the machine. he gives you a crooked smile, removing his arm and following you as you scoot your chair out, nearly tripping over your own feet to make your way over to the machine.

like a little kid, you press your fingertips onto the glass, smooshing your face up against it to peer inside at the various plushies. you feel a warm presence behind you, and bakugou sidles up to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“you wanna try?” his deep voice asks, no trace of judgement in his voice.

“mhm!” you hum, bouncing.

he moves back, and you turn to face him, a grin on your face as he slips some money into your hand. as you move to familiarize yourself with the controls, he leans his hip on the side of the machine to watch, crimson eyes shining.

scanning the sea of plushies, you immediately spot a familiar one, giggling to yourself as you feed the money into the slot.

the machine whirs to life and you move the claw, biting your lip as you push the button. you watch, heart pitter-pattering as the claw lowers, getting closer and closer to scooping up the plushie you have your eye on. it grips the arm of the toy, but before it can pull it up, the claw swings to the side and the toy falls back into place.

“damn.” he says from the side, your eyes flitting to his face, surprised to see a frown and a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

you grunt in response, yet you feed another dollar in. this time, you angle it perfectly, holding your breath as the claw grabs the body of the plushie, pulling it up and dropping it down the chute.

“yes!” you cheer, jumping up a down a few times before looking towards katsuki, who lets out a chuckle before he opens his arms. you jump into them, hooking your hands behind his neck, and he swings you around a few times before putting your feet back down on the ground.

“that’s my girl.” he says lowly, a soft smile spreading across his face as he leans down to press a kiss to your hairline. “what did you get?”

you giggle, stepping away from him to kneel on the ground, pushing the door to the chute open and gently tugging the toy out. you turn and look up at him, a mischievous smile on your face before presenting it to him.

he rolls his eyes (fondly), and huffs.

“it’s you!” you exclaim, holding the dynamight plushie out for him to see. it’s surprisingly detailed, including all of the bits and bobs of his hero costume, and it even has the scar that rests under his eye.

he sighs, carding a hand through his hair, and you narrow your eyes at him, almost daring him to tell you that you can’t keep it. instead, he hikes up his eyebrows, before saying, “that cannot go in our bed, got it? i don’t wanna roll over and see that thing—me? whatever, staring with its beady eyes.”

“Aye aye captain.” You say, before he snorts, then hauls you up and places a hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you to walk back to the table where his friends are, the mini katsuki bakugou still cradled in your arms.

I have been saving this since last year. Happy Earth Day everyone.

Coffee prince vibes 💘

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ THE DRESS CODE

Bakugou was in a bad mood.

It was stupid, really. Absolutely stupid. But he couldn’t help the scowl on his face as he approached your desk.

“Oi,” he snapped, crossing his arms. “What the hell are you wearing?”

He had taken his time this morning, making sure the maroon shirt he picked out was one he actually liked. It wasn’t over the top or anything—just a plain shirt with a white skull on the back, paired with some casual black pants.

But it was the principle of the matter. You were supposed to match. That was the whole damn point.

The UA student council had this dress code specifically to celebrate Valentine’s Day. Maroon for those who’re in a relationship, blue for those in a situationship, green for those in the “friend zone,” black for those who are admirers from afar, and the plain school uniform for those who are more inclined in their studies to even bother with romantic relationships.

Was this your way of subtly denying him as your boyfriend? It wasn’t like you two were in hiding—and it’s not like he doesn’t mention that you two are seeing each other whenever someone pesters him about it.

You looked up, eyes wide and innocent. “Huh? My uniform?”

Bakugou’s brow twitched. “Yeah, I can see that. Why?”

You blinked, clearly not understanding what he was getting to. “Because… it’s Friday?”

“Did you forget what today is?”

You stared blankly at him, confusion written all over your face.

“...Friday?”

“Valentine’s Day!” he barked, causing a few of your classmates to glance over in amusement. He jerked his thumb at his own shirt—a simple red tee with a black skull printed on the back. “Maroon’s for people who are dating. Thought we were gonna match.”

You felt as though your soul just left your body.

“Oh... oh.” Your hands flew to your mouth. “I... I didn’t know! You never told me!”

“Didn’t think I had to. It’s common sense.”

“And you don’t even like Valentine’s Day! So... I thought we weren’t doing the dress code thing...”

That was true. But still! He was adamant on making you look like the one in the wrong here.

“Well, I am,” he pouted. So subtle it could be mistaken for his signature grimace. “And I heard from Ears that you were planning on wearing maroon, you idiot.”

“I told her—I was thinking about it, though.”

Bakugou’s shoulders sagged, the irritation draining a little. “Yeah, well... I went and did it. Thought it’d be obvious we’re together if we matched. You had a shirt with a golden dragon on the back, too, right?”

Your heart fluttered, your gaze finally meeting his. He remembered. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks—Bakugou Katsuki, the loud, brash, and unapologetically stubborn hero-in-training—your boyfriend, wanted to show off your relationship. Publicly. On Valentine’s Day.

A moment in history!

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Instead, you jumped to your feet. “Wait here!”

Before he could argue, you bolted out of the classroom, leaving Bakugou standing there, baffled. He turned to find his classmates blatantly eavesdropping.

Mina’s eyes were practically sparkling. “Awww, Bakugou, you wanted to match with [Name]?”

Kaminari snickered. “Dude, that’s so cute.”

Kirishima grinned, throwing an arm around Bakugou’s shoulders. “You really have gone soft, man.”

Bakugou’s eye twitched, and he shrugged Kirishima’s arm off roughly. “Shut it, Shitty Hair. I just didn’t wanna look like an idiot wearin’ maroon by myself,” he grumbled. “And Sero’s wearing green—‘nd I don’t see anyone picking on him!”

“Cool it, man,” Sero laughed, shaking his head. “The incident still stings.”

“We salute you, brave soldier,” Kaminari replied.

Mina sighed dramatically, resting her chin on her hands. “Young love...”

His cheeks turned crimson. “Mind your own damn business!”

Before his embarrassment could escalate, you came running back, slightly out of breath, with something red clutched in your hands. You unfolded it and slipped it on—a maroon cardigan. It hugged your frame just right, with allowance to spare, the color bringing out the warm shimmer in your eyes.

You looked at him, your fingers fiddling with the buttons. “I had this in my locker. Does this work?”

Bakugou stared at you, his irritation disappearing like a factory reset process. You looked... cute. Really cute. But he wasn’t about to say that out loud. He cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah... s’fine, I guess.”

Your face brightened, a smile breaking across your lips. “Really?”

He looked away, his voice gruff, though there was no heat in his reply. “Whatever.”

Their moment was interrupted by Mina’s dramatic squeal. “And they say romance is dead!”

Denki gave a thumbs up. “Didn’t think Bakugou could be such a romantic.”

Kirishima laughed. “Man, who knew you’d be such a softie?”

Bakugou’s eye twitched, and he spun around, his hands sparking. “One more word and I’ll kill all of you!”

His classmates laughed, not the least bit intimidated. They could see right through him—Bakugou Katsuki was completely, undeniably, head-over-heels for you.

Turning back to you, his voice softened, his anger dissipating. “C’mon, let’s go. Cafeteria had those stupid snacks you wanted.”

Your smile never wavered as you followed slightly behind him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, yeah... Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Bakugou hopes the next Valentine’s Day to come is when he can properly match with you. He won’t let you forget this time around.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

bakugo never meant to get this distracted. seriously. it wasn’t his fault.

it was yours.

because every damn time you sat in front of him, every time you rested your chin on your palm, every time you furrowed your brows while scribbling something in your notebook—he got stuck. like, full-on, brain-short-circuiting, totally-useless kind of stuck.

he should be paying attention. should be listening to aizawa’s lecture. should be taking notes instead of memorizing the way the sunlight caught in your hair or how your lips pursed when you were thinking.

but no. instead, he was sitting here, burning every little detail of you into his brain like some lovesick idiot. the curve of your nose, the way your fingers absentmindedly twirled your pen, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when it fell into your face.

he was so screwed.

“bakugo.”

his whole body stiffened. aizawa was staring at him, unimpressed.

“what?” he snapped, maybe a little too defensive.

“i asked you a question.” aizawa sighed. “maybe if you stopped zoning out, you’d know the answer.”

a few people chuckled, and bakugo’s face heated up—not because he was embarrassed, but because you turned your head just a little, just enough to glance at him.

for half a second, your eyes met his.

and fuck, that half-second nearly killed him.

then you turned back around, totally unaware of how wrecked he was, how his heart was still beating too damn fast, how his hand was gripping his pencil like it owed him money.

this was getting ridiculous.