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thebunnednun · 19 days

Text

Overworked

Pairing: Pro Hero! Katsuki Bakugou x Stressed! Reader

Summary: Life is shit and Katsuki finds out you lied to him about taking care of yourself.

And you know what happens when you lie to Katsuki.

I wrote this for my friend @elarakive, she's been going through it so please give her some love y'all.

WC: 16,709

On with the show!!~

“I should’ve become a stripper in Miami.”

You staggered into your apartment, your body and mind exhausted from the endless cycle of school and work. The clock ticked mercilessly as you rushed to grab your work bag and change. Your commute home took about 20 minutes today, and there was barely enough time to catch your breath, let alone eat.

Sighing, you kicked off your shoes quickly before rushing into your small, cluttered room, your shoulders heavy with the weight of responsibility. The relentless cycle of school and work had left you in a mental fog, and the ticking clock seemed to mock your frantic rush. You had barely an hour to spare before your next shift, and the minutes slipped through your fingers like sand.

With trembling hands, you fumbled through your work bag, grabbing the essentials as you hurriedly changed into your work uniform. The sight of your reflection in the hallway mirror was a stark reminder of how far gone you were—dark circles under your eyes, hair a disheveled mess, and a look of defeat that you couldn’t quite hide.

‘Fuck it, we ball with the consealer today.’

Rushing to the bathroom, you hurriedly adjusted your makeup in the bathroom mirror, the smudged eyeliner and messy foundation reflecting the chaos of your life. Every moment felt like a race against time as you dabbed concealer under your eyes, trying to mask the fatigue that had become your constant companion.

You had to look good while in class. You have to look good at work so you can make those big bucks to pay for things that ultimately make you feel sick everytime you think about it. Like your rent, the car, the utilities, tuition payments, groceries, laundry supplies, toiletpaper, pads/tampons. Also Tynolonal because your little dehydrated ass kept getting migraines that you ironically didn’t take because you still wanted a working liver.

In the midst of your chaotic routine, your phone buzzed with a notification: an unexpected double shift for the week. Your heart sank as you read the message. When you finally got a weekend off, it was swallowed up by studying, cleaning, and chores. Sleep was becoming a rare luxury, and your mental fog seemed to thicken with each passing day.

At work, the pressure has been relentless. Your manager's latest demand to pull full shifts this week felt like the last straw. As you stared at your schedule, the weight of it all crashed down on you. You wanted to cry, but you couldn't afford to break down—not with your job hanging in the balance. The only time you had to eat was during your brief lunch break at work, which you barely managed to find time for.

It felt like there was no end to the mounting responsibilities, and the weekend you’d managed to carve out for yourself was swallowed up by endless studying, chores, and barely enough sleep to keep you functional.

In the cramped kitchen, you grabbed a quick bite, your meal consisting of whatever was quickest to prepare. (A literal slice of bread.) The clock continued its relentless ticking, and you knew you were cutting it close. The idea of collapsing into bed, even for just a moment, was a sinfully tempting dream.

As you raced to gather your things, your mind was a jumble of deadlines and schedules. You barely noticed when your cell rang with its familiar “Kiss me through the phone!” ringtone to indicate that your boyfriend was calling.

‘🥰 🤬 Kat-Suki 🩷🧡 is calling…..’

Heart fluttering, you nearly dropped the concealer wand on your blank uniform polo to snatch your phone off the counter and hit answer.

“Damn it, what’s going on with you?” Katsuki’s voice cut through the haze of your stress, his usual bravado softened by genuine worry as the video connected.

“You look like you’re about to drop.”

You paused, caught off guard by his sudden appearance and the intensity of his gaze. “Just… busy,” you managed to say, trying to muster a weak smile. “I’ve got a lot on my plate.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, his expression growing more serious. “This ain’t just busy. You’re running yourself ragged. What the hell are ya doing to yourself?”

With a frustrated sigh, you grabbed the phone and tucked it into the front of your bra, the slight pressure reminding you that you needed to hurry. Balancing your phone precariously, you snatched up your work bag and keys, your hands clumsy with the rush. Your fingers were already cold from the constant running around, and you fought the urge to drop everything as you made your way to the car.

The engine roared to life as you slid into the driver’s seat and connected your phone to the Bluetooth system. Katsuki’s voice crackled through the speakers, a gruff but familiar comfort amidst the car noises.

“Hey, you there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” you replied, blowing a raspberry into the phone. The sound was a mix of frustration and exhaustion, and you could almost hear Katsuki’s brow raise as he responded.

“You sound outta breath. What’s the deal?”

You chuckled softly, though it was more of a tired exhale. “Just the usual,” you said, your eyes darting between the road and the clock on the dashboard. “Running late, trying to get everything done. It’s been a mess.”

Katsuki’s voice grew more insistent. “Are ya eating properly? Getting enough sleep? You know, ya need to take care of yourself.”

You huffed, trying to focus on the road while keeping up with the conversation. “I’m eating, sleep is a luxury right now. I’m managing, Katsuki.”

His voice softened, though it still carried an edge of concern. “That’s not an answer, you know. You sound like you’re pushing yourself too hard. I don’t want you burning out.”

You adjusted the car’s air conditioning, the cool breeze a slight relief against the heat of your exhaustion. “I’m fine. Just got a lot on my plate. You know how it is.”

“Well, if you say so,” Katsuki said, though the worry in his tone was evident. “Just make sure you’re not running on empty. I want to see you in one piece when I get back.”

The call ended as you pulled into the parking lot of your workplace. You felt a pang of guilt but pushed it aside as you grabbed your work bag and keys, the day ahead looming large.

“I’m in the parking lot. So I’ll call you when I get out, okay?”

“ ‘S fine with me.”

“K, bye.”

You blew a smooch into the phone and quickly hung up before you could cry. It’s not like you wanted to lie to Katsuki. Your boyfriend was THE human lie detector and hated liars. But you also didn’t want to worry him while he was out on missions. But alas, those were all thoughts for later as you gently turned off the car and put your game face on before getting out the car and making your way towards the building.

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

Your shift at work was as rough as you’d anticipated. Your manager was insistent about you picking up extra hours, their voice rising in frustration over minor issues. Customers were grumpy, complaints frequent, and the constant flow of tasks left you feeling drained.

The office felt like a maze of gray cubicles and muted tones, the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing softly overhead. As you sat at your desk, the familiar clutter of technical documents and graphic layouts surrounded you. The scent of strong coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of printer ink. You rubbed your eyes, a sigh escaping your lips as you pushed through another round of proofreading.

Just then, your phone buzzed, and you fumbled to pull it from your drawer, glancing at the screen to see a message from Masha in HR. It was a reminder about the formal complaint you needed to submit to get your overdue salary processed. You frowned, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders.

“Another thing to deal with,” you muttered, tapping out a quick response before setting the phone aside. Your fingers flew over the keyboard, drafting the formal complaint with a precision that belied your growing exhaustion. Every keystroke felt like an effort, each sentence a struggle to convey the frustration and urgency of your situation.

The clock ticked slowly, its rhythmic ticking amplifying the silence of the office as colleagues murmured and typed away in their own bubbles. You glanced at the pile of papers on your desk—technical documents, project briefs, and some rough sketches for graphics that you’d been tasked with. The contrast between your university days, filled with creative media projects and dynamic video production, and this monotonous office job was striking.

You missed the excitement of storytelling and visual creation, but here you were, grinding away for the paycheck that barely seemed worth the effort right now.

Rent was due next week, and the thought of it gnawed at your mind. You tapped your pen nervously against the desk, trying to suppress the mounting anxiety. Your minimal savings were earmarked for tuition, and borrowing money from anyone, let alone Katsuki, was not an option you wanted to consider. The last thing you needed was for him to find out and make a fuss about it, turning your personal financial troubles into a point of contention.

As you took a deep breath and hit ‘send’ on the formal complaint, the stress of the past few weeks seemed to coalesce into a single, throbbing headache. Your hands were trembling slightly as you reached for the small, lukewarm cup of coffee on your desk, the caffeine offering a temporary, hollow comfort.

“Hey, can you cover this layout for me?” your colleague, Jenna, asked as she leaned over your cubicle wall. Her voice was chipper, a sharp contrast to the mental fog you were drowning in.

“Sure,” you said, forcing a smile as you accepted the additional task. Your mind drifted to the weekend, a distant hope of relaxation and a momentary escape from the whirlwind of deadlines and obligations. But even that felt out of reach as you buried yourself in work, hoping that somewhere amidst the chaos, a solution would present itself.

The minutes stretched into hours, the ticking of the clock a relentless reminder of how quickly time was slipping away. As the workday dragged on, your thoughts constantly circled back to your financial situation and how you might manage to cover rent without dipping into your savings or burdening anyone else. The weight of it all felt almost unbearable, and you silently wished for a moment of reprieve.

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

Finally, with mercy, your shift finally ended, you felt a wave of relief wash over you, but it was quickly overshadowed by exhaustion. You shuffled out of the office, your steps heavy and laden with fatigue.

The breakroom coffee you’d chugged was doing its best to keep you awake, but the jolt of caffeine did little to ease the sleepy buzz that had settled over you.

Your drive home was a blur, punctuated only by the occasional beep of your car’s dashboard and the monotonous hum of the engine. When you finally pulled into your parking spot, a sense of dread washed over you as you fished out your phone to check the latest update on your pay. The notification confirmed what you feared: your salary wouldn’t be processed for another week.

A gasp of frustration and disbelief escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the confined space of your car. You slammed your hands on the steering wheel, barely containing the urge to scream. The crushing weight of bills, looming deadlines, and the crushing reality of your financial situation finally broke through your walls of composure. Tears sprang to your eyes, spilling over as you let the frustration and sadness flow freely.

The emotional release was almost too much to bear, and as the tears flowed, the inside of your car’s windows fogged up, the steamy haze blurring your vision. You cracked the windows slightly, hoping to let some of the oppressive heat and steam escape.

As the cool air started to seep in, you caught sight of Katsuki’s footprints on your windshield—evidence of the time he’d spent with his dogs on your dashboard, walking them around while you were driving. The sight of his footprint, a tangible reminder of his absence, made your heart ache even more.

The memory of him removing his footing while you had been driving around, convinced you’d seen a turtle on the side of the road, flashed through your mind.

Turns out it was a really moldy round rock and while you wanted to keep it, Katsuki made you leave the so-called “turtle,” which he’d dismissed as a weird rock, insisting it might be cursed and, “I don’t fuck with no spooky shit.” The thought of his spiky but playful protective nature contrasted sharply with the weight of your current situation.

Your mascara had bled and smeared, leaving dark streaks on your cheeks. You fumbled for tissues in the glove compartment—another thoughtful gift from Katsuki. With shaking hands, you dabbed at your face, trying to clean up the smudged makeup and regain some semblance of composure.

But fuck the tissues because you wanted Katuski to wipe your tears, not Puffs with lotion.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your work bag and keys from the passenger seat. Despite the fact that you had no classes tomorrow—a silver lining provided by Mrs. Yamada’s decision to cancel due to the pleasant weather—you felt an emotional heaviness. You forced yourself to get out of the car, each step toward the building feeling like a mile.

The elevator ride up to your floor was a quiet, solitary journey. You leaned against the wall, trying to steady your breathing and calm your racing thoughts. When the elevator doors finally opened, you walked down the hallway with heavy steps, each footfall echoing your exhaustion and frustration.

You reached your door and, with a tired sigh, unlocked it and stepped inside. The familiar, quiet space of your apartment was both a refuge and a reminder of everything you were trying to manage. The world outside was still bustling, but here, in this small sanctuary, you could finally let down your guard.

Letting out another deep breath as you took in the comforting but humble surroundings. Your mind wandered to the weekend ahead, hoping for some respite and relaxation despite everything else. For now, you allowed yourself a moment to just be, to acknowledge the fucked up situation you were in and space out before you would have to be an active adult again.

You slid down against the door, exhaustion making every movement feel labored. The cool, hard floor felt oddly comforting against your back as you contemplated the idea of slipping off your shoes and socks and crawling straight into bed. Your tired eyes were barely open when an unexpected, tantalizing scent wafted through the air, making you blink in confusion.

The smell was warm and inviting, reminiscent of the cozy autumn walks you take with Katsuki. The memory of him lifting you onto his shoulders while you collected pinecones, playfully biting your ankles when you took “too long” to pick out your favorites, made you smile through your tears. The scent brought a fleeting sense of comfort, but the question of who had been in your apartment and left it smelling so fresh and pleasant nagged at the back of your mind.

You pushed yourself up, the weariness making your movements slow and deliberate. As you wandered further into your apartment, you couldn’t shake the feeling of disbelief. Your living space, which had been cluttered and messy, was now impeccably clean, as if it had been professionally cleaned. The familiar scent of pine and a hint of something else filled the air, wrapping around you like a warm, fragrant embrace.

Shaking off the disorientation, you followed the delicious aroma to the kitchen. Your eyes widened as you saw a pot of rice and another pot of rich, spicy beef and vegetable stew cooling on the stove. The sight was almost surreal—your kitchen, which had been a chaotic mess just hours before, was now a haven of culinary comfort. The thought of someone cooking for you, despite your exhaustion, brought a mix of relief and confusion.

‘What the fuck?!’

You blinked once, twice, harshly, trying to process the scene before you. With a mixture of curiosity and wariness, you padded softly back to the living room, hoping to make sense of the situation. The only light on was the soft glow of the lamp in the bathroom, casting a warm, clean light across the hallway and into your living room. The air was still, save for the faint sound of shuffling coming from your bedroom.

Heart racing, you moved toward the sound, each step slow and cautious. The clean scent from the bathroom lingered, and you couldn’t help but notice how fresh and tidy it now seemed. You glanced back at the living room, which, in contrast to your earlier mess, now looked immaculate and inviting.

Heart pounding, you crept down the hallway, each step slow and deliberate. The freshly cleaned scent in the air did nothing to ease your anxiety. The apartment was spotless—too spotless. Your mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. Maybe Michael had come back early and done this as a surprise? Or maybe Shoto, Izuku, or Jirou had somehow managed to sneak in, tidy everything, and leave without telling you.

After all, only Michael, Kirishima, and Shoto or Izuku had keys to your place in case of emergencies.

But Katsuki? He was out of state. He wouldn’t be back for a while, and even if he had sent one of those cleaning services, they were always in and out in less than 30 minutes.

This... this wasn’t right.

Your gaze darted toward the door. The shuffling sound from your bedroom had stopped. Panic began to settle in, a rising tension that had you frozen on the spot. You considered calling for help, but your phone was still on the floor by your purse, forgotten in the rush of trying to figure out what was happening. You didn’t want to lose the element of surprise.

With a nervous breath, you reached for the flower vase sitting on the narrow hallway table. The roses inside were fresh, their deep crimson petals just beginning to open up. You mentally apologized to them as you dumped the flowers onto the floor, water splashing around the vase. Your hands moved swiftly, reaching inside for the TTI Glock 34 hidden beneath the stems. The cold metal felt heavier than usual in your hand, but you weren’t about to hesitate.

You weren’t going to die in your own apartment—not like this.

Holding your breath, you stalked closer to the bathroom. You could hear the faint echo of your heart beating in your ears. Quietly, with practiced precision, you closed the door behind you without letting it click, trapping the scent of cleanliness inside. There was no turning back now. The apartment had become unfamiliar, and whoever or whatever was in your room needed to be dealt with.

You crept toward the bedroom, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as you got closer. The shifting sounds had stopped. Whoever it was, they were still inside. You crouched, gun in hand, every muscle tensed as you approached the door. Then, without warning, the door to your bedroom swung open with a loud

"BAM!"

The sound reverberated through the walls as darkness loomed before you. Instinct took over.

You fired two quick shots into the void, the deafening bangs ringing in your ears. The muzzle flashes lit up the shadows, revealing nothing but an empty room. Your heart hammered in your chest as you stared into the stillness.

Silence.

"Fuck this!" you muttered under your breath, adrenaline kicking into high gear.

Without thinking twice, you bolted down the hallway. Your feet were heavy, thudding against the carpet as you ran, and the door to your apartment swung open behind you. You burst into the dimly lit hallway, the dingy orange carpet and faded yellow lighting never looking so welcoming. The familiar smell of old apartments and chipped paint wrapped around you as you sprinted toward the elevator.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your legs pumping as fast as they could. Most of your neighbors were either still at work or too old to have heard the gunshots, but there was no way you were sticking around to find out. You slapped the elevator button, glancing nervously back down the hallway.

You stood in front of the doors waiting, breathless and confused, waiting for the sound of footsteps or the telltale signs of someone chasing after you.

But… nothing.

The air was still, almost too still, and when you turned around, your heart pounding in your throat, you saw nothing. No one was following you. No shadowy figure, no intruder, no ominous movement at all.

Just you.

That rush of fear was starting to ebb away, replaced by an unsettling new sensation—doubt. Did you get them? The thought made your heart skip, but worse than that, another horrifying possibility crept in:

Did you kill someone?

Your stomach dropped as if you'd just fallen from a cliff. The idea of it—of accidentally shooting someone, maybe even someone who had no intention of hurting you—was almost too much to bear.

You pressed a shaky hand against the wall, your mind racing.

What would happen if it was true? What if you had killed someone in a panic? Your knees felt weak, and the edges of your vision blurred with panic.

‘What would happen to me? What would happen to Katsuki when they found out his girlfriend had killed someone? The girlfriend of the Number 2 Pro Hero, a murderer?’

‘What’s Katsuki gonna do?’

The thought sent a cold wave of nausea through you. You wanted to throw up right there in the hallway, but your stomach was so empty that all you could do was dry swallow, your mouth tasting like metal and dread. ‘What would the courts say? Would I go to jail? What would happen to Katsuki's career?’

Your thoughts spiraled, knotting together into an unbearable weight pressing down on your chest.

You swallowed hard, trying to force the rising panic back down. The hallway around you blurred for a second, the dim, dingy orange carpet now looking stained—like it was soaked in blood. You blinked hard, shaking your head.

It was just the light, just your mind playing tricks on you. You forced yourself to look away from the carpet, your eyes trailing back to your apartment door. It was still ajar, spilling the warm, pale hallway light into the void of your dark apartment. The contrast was jarring—the safe, slightly worn familiarity of the hallway outside clashing with the pitch-black uncertainty inside your home.

Your home.

You pressed your back against the wall, trying to steady yourself. ‘You couldn’t leave this unfinished. If you did accidentally kill someone, you’d have to take responsibility. You had to know.’ And if it was an intruder, then, well... that was another layer of mess you'd have to deal with.

But God, you were so done.

The exhaustion from the double shifts, the lack of sleep, the unpaid bills—it all weighed you down, made your legs feel like lead as you slowly moved forward. Maybe that's why you found yourself inching toward your open door instead of running away.

Maybe that's why, instead of thinking clearly, you fumbled with your purse, your fingers shaking as you dug through it to find your phone. Instead of flicking on the light switch by the door, you opened the flashlight app, shining its weak beam into the suffocating darkness of your apartment.

The soft glow from your phone barely penetrated the void, but it was enough to make out familiar shapes—the edge of your coffee table, the corner of the couch, the faint outline of your kitchen down the hall. It almost looked normal. Almost. But something was wrong. You could feel it in your bones.

And then you felt it.

Before you could even process what was happening, something hot and large clamped down around your arm. A flash of pure, raw panic shot through you, freezing your blood in your veins. Your heart leapt into your throat, and you barely had time to let out a sharp, breathless gasp before another hand—bigger, stronger—covered your mouth, smothering any scream you could’ve made.

The force of it drove you backward, your body colliding with the floor as the figure pulled you into the apartment. The scent of clean linen and something warmer filled your senses, overpowering everything else. You thrashed instinctively, your pulse roaring in your ears, but the grip on you didn’t falter.

The hand around your mouth tightened, silencing you even as you tried to cry out.

Your mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening. You couldn’t see anything except the faint glow of your phone, now flickering as it dropped from your hands onto the floor. Your gun—’Where the hell was your gun?!’

It was smacked outta your hand when the figure grabbed you, and now, it was probably somewhere in the apartment, out of reach.

“Stop fuckin’ squirming,” a low voice growled against your ear, sending a violent shiver down your spine.

The voice was familiar—so achingly familiar that your panic began to wane just enough for recognition to slip through the fog of fear. The heat of his breath, the roughness of his palm, the way his body radiated warmth even through the tension. You blinked hard, gasping into the hand that covered your mouth, your mind racing to catch up.

“Katsuki?” Your voice was muffled, barely audible against his skin.

His grip loosened a fraction, his palm sliding off your mouth just enough for you to catch a real breath. You gasped for air, your chest heaving as you tried to process everything.

The fear, the relief, the utter confusion.

"Yeah," he muttered, his voice rough and low. He didn’t release you right away, keeping you firmly against him, his hot breath still brushing against your ear. "The hell were you thinking? Firing like that in the dark? You could’ve fuckin’ shot me!"

You slumped against him, half in shock, half in frustration. Your heart was still pounding, your limbs still trembling, but the flood of relief that came with recognizing his voice nearly brought you to tears. He was here. He wasn’t supposed to be, but he was.

“I didn’t know it was you,” you rasped, your voice shaky as you fought to steady your breathing. “Why the hell are you sneaking around my apartment?! I thought I was gonna die!”

Katsuki’s deadpan expression barely shifted as he lifted you up and unceremoniously dropped you onto the sofa. The cushions sighed under your weight, but before you could even adjust yourself, he was already stalking across the room.

His broad back was tense, and the muscles of his arms flexed beneath his shirt as he moved with precision, a wolf-like focus in the way he carried himself.

"Okay, let’s start with this," he began, his tone rough and low, his eyes flickering briefly over his shoulder at you. “I'm glad you can defend yourself. If I was some regular asshole, I'd be dead for sure.”

You blinked at him, still in disbelief, trying to process everything that had just happened. Your heart was still pounding, your body still reeling from the shock, and yet here he was, as calm as ever. He flipped on the hallway light with a casual flick, casting a soft glow over the apartment.

“Stay,” he huffed, his voice gruff, as if you were some unruly puppy he needed to wrangle.

He moved toward the dining area, and you turned your head to follow his movements. You watched as his calloused fingers picked up your steel piece—your gun—from where it had fallen, handling it with ease.

There was no hesitation in the way he moved, no sign of the earlier chaos as he handled the weapon. It was like he had done this a thousand times before, like the situation was perfectly normal for him.

You craned your neck a little more, catching sight of him as he knelt to collect the discarded roses from the hallway floor. He carefully placed your gun back into the vase where you had originally stashed it, as if putting everything back in its proper order, like nothing had happened. His shadow moved fluidly across the walls as he did so, and the tension in the air didn’t lessen—if anything, it deepened.

And then, he turned back toward you, his face unreadable, but those vermillion eyes—God, those eyes—locked onto yours like a predator zeroing in on its prey. He didn’t say a word, not yet, but the intensity of his gaze was enough to make your breath hitch.

The soft glow of the hallway light outlined his figure, casting sharp shadows on his jawline, the dim illumination making him look both softer and somehow more dangerous at the same time.

He stalked back over to you, each step deliberate, never once breaking eye contact. His eyes bored into yours, and you felt as though he could see through every layer of your confusion, your fear, and your relief. You tried to smile, to break the tension, but it felt weak under his unrelenting stare.

Katsuki finally stopped in front of you, his steps coming to a halt as he sat down on the coffee table across from you. The wood creaked slightly under his weight, but he didn’t seem to care. He spread his legs a little, bracing his elbows on his knees, leaning forward slightly, his powerful body now looming closer, radiating heat and energy.

He was dressed down tonight—just a black skull t-shirt that clung to his frame and a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips.

Casual, relaxed, almost like he had been home for a quiet night in. Yet here he was, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. He had this way of making everything else disappear when he focused on you like that, making your breath catch in your throat.

He sat there, silent, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped loosely between them. His back was slightly hunched as he leaned forward, making him look even more intense. His face was unreadable, and yet there was an edge to it—something simmering just below the surface, just beneath those sharp, vermillion eyes that hadn’t left yours for a second.

You shifted uncomfortably on the sofa under the weight of his gaze. “Uh, hey babe?” you said, your voice weak, barely above a whisper. You tried to giggle, to play it off like you weren’t utterly rattled, but the sound died awkwardly in your throat.

Katsuki didn’t move. His eyes remained fixed on you, not even a flicker of amusement crossing his face. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight, the muscle there clenching slightly.

He wasn’t buying it.

You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say or do next. The silence between you stretched out, heavy and oppressive, like a thick fog settling in the room. The only sound was the faint hum of the hallway light and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

For what felt like an eternity, you just sat there—him staring at you like you’d just committed the ultimate offense, and you shrinking under the weight of it. His gaze didn’t waver, not even once, and you could feel the intensity of his thoughts even if he wasn’t saying a word.

Your hands fidgeted in your lap, fingers twisting together as the nerves bubbled up inside you.

“Katsuki, I—” you started, but the words trailed off, your voice faltering under the scrutiny.

Katuski considers you carefully for a moment, just a moment. Before slowly rising from his spot on the coffee table and making his way to the kitchen, flicking the light on, and you hear the opening of your cabinets and your favorite mug being taken out before your tap is run. Katsuki returns, makes his way to your dining room to also turn on the lights and then to your front door that he locks before also turning on the lights.

Then, he finally makes his way back to you and hands you the mug that you accept with both hands and he doesn’t let go until you take three small sips at first and he sets himself back down in front of you. It’s not until your fifth sip that you realize he turned on all the lights so you could feel exposed and vulnerable under his stare. You almost choke on that, but hold it down in favor of meeting your boyfriend's gaze again.

He finally spoke, his voice low and measured, but there was a tightness there, like he was barely holding back. “What the fuck was that, huh?” His eyes narrowed slightly, the air around him crackling with restrained emotion. “You really think lying to me was a good idea?”

Your breath caught in your throat. Lying? You blinked, confusion mixing with the remnants of panic, but you didn’t get a chance to speak before Katsuki leaned in closer, his face now hovering just inches from yours. The intensity of his gaze didn’t falter, those sharp vermillion eyes pinning you in place.

“Let’s not pretend,” he said, his voice dripping with a strange, unsettling calm. “You think I didn’t notice? That I couldn’t tell?” His lips curled into a smirk, but there was nothing playful about it. The way his eyes glinted, the way the tension in his jaw flexed—it was something far more dangerous.

“When did—” you started, but Katsuki cut you off, his tone sharp as a blade.

“When did I get back?” he asked, already knowing where your mind had gone. His smile widened, and the expression twisted something deep in your gut. His canines flashed, sharp and predatory, as the smirk grew into something almost menacing. “Right after you hung up the phone with me.”

Your stomach dropped. He heard? You should have known better. The way you’d tried to sound fine, the excuses you made about not being able to eat, the way your voice had shaken when you’d reassured him you were ‘doing great’—he hadn’t bought any of it. He’d come home right early, and he’d known.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours as he continued, “And you wanna know what I saw the second I walked in? You. Not taking care of yourself.”

“Again.”

The words hit you like a slap. Your mind raced back to everything over the last few days—the lack of sleep, barely eating, pushing yourself to the point of collapse. You thought you could hide it. But Katsuki wasn’t fooled. He never was.

“You lied to me,” he said, his voice softer now, but no less dangerous. “Told me you were fine, that you were ‘handling things.’” He chuckled darkly, his smile stretching wider.

“Look at you. Does this look like ‘fine’ to you?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry, as the weight of his words settled over you like a suffocating blanket. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to form an excuse, something to explain yourself, but the words wouldn’t come.

Katsuki’s gaze hardened, and he leaned back slightly, his arms crossing over his chest as if he were preparing for the final verdict.

“I trusted you to take care of yourself while I was gone, and what do you do? You starve yourself. You don’t sleep. You get so out of it you nearly put a bullet through your own damn apartment. All while telling me everything’s ‘great.’”

You could hear the frustration lacing his words now, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. But there was something else—something deeper, more raw, hiding in the way his voice shook ever so slightly when he said the word trusted.

"I tried—" you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but it felt so hollow even to your own ears. Katsuki wasn’t having it.

“Tried?” His voice cracked with a dangerous laugh, one that sent chills down your spine. “You tried? No, you didn’t ‘try.’ You hid from me. You lied because you thought you could handle everything on your own.”

He leaned forward again, the smile never fading, but this time it was sharper, darker, the full display of his teeth and sharp canines making him look almost feral. His red eyes widened slightly as he stared down at you, and there was an unsettling gleam in them now, something wild and untamed.

“But you can’t, can you?” he continued, his voice almost a mockery of sweetness. “You can’t take care of yourself. So guess what?” He leaned in close, so close you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. “I’m doing it for you.”

Your heart lurched in your chest as his words sank in. There was something terrifying about the calmness in his tone, the way he spoke as if it was a simple fact, something decided without question.

“You’re not eating? I’ll make sure you eat. You’re not sleeping? Don’t worry, I’ll fix that too.” His smile grew wider, more sinister, as if he were enjoying the thought of it. His sharp canines glinted under the light, and it felt like you were staring into the eyes of a predator.

The intensity of his gaze was suffocating, his red eyes burning into yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. His presence was overwhelming, his words wrapping around you like chains, trapping you in the reality of what was happening.

Katsuki’s voice dropped to a whisper, but it was no less terrifying. “From now on, you don’t get to make that call. You don’t get to decide when you’re ‘fine’ or when you need help. I do.”

Your throat tightened as you tried to find the right words, the right explanation, but there was nothing that would make this better. You had lied. You had pushed yourself too far, and now you were facing the consequences. But Katsuki wasn’t just angry. He was something else—something scarier.

He reached out, cupping your face gently with one large, calloused hand, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek. But the look in his eyes, the smile still pulling at his lips, made the gesture feel anything but comforting. He hooks his other palm on the underside of your calve and squeezes it twice.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” he whispered, his voice soft but deadly serious. “Even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. Understand?” Katsuki dips his face lower, closer to yours as his pupils bore into your own.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, your chest tight with fear and guilt. Katsuki’s thumb traced your jawline, his touch deceptively gentle, but the look in his eyes was unrelenting.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, his smile finally fading, replaced with that hard, determined expression you knew all too well. He stood up slowly, towering over you, and as he did, the weight of his presence pressed down on you like a storm.

He wasn’t giving you a choice.

And you knew there was no fighting him. Not when he was like this.

Katsuki stood over you, eyes narrowing slightly as he reached for the mug in your hand. His fingers brushed yours, and before you could protest, he gently tugged it from your grasp, tilting the cup toward your lips. The cold refreshing liquid hit your tongue, and you blinked in surprise, forced to drink it all at his pace. His gaze was steady, unyielding, as if this small act of making sure you finished the drink was a matter of life and death.

There was no room for resistance.

"All of it," he muttered, and you obeyed, the warmth of the drink doing little to soothe the knot of nerves twisting in your stomach.

Once you drained the last of the mug, Katsuki set it aside with a soft clink and guided you to your feet. His grip was firm but not rough, the warmth of his palm grounding you as he led you through the bright apartment.

The light filtering through the bulbs was harsh compared to the dark tension that had settled between you two. Your heart pounded in your chest as you followed, your mind still trying to process everything that had just happened.

When he brought you to the bathroom, you turned to shoo him out. “I can handle this part,” you muttered, half-heartedly trying to get some semblance of control back. But Katsuki remained solid as a wall, unmoving, his eyes fixed on you. One eyebrow arched in that sharp, expectant way of his, and you knew you had no choice.

With a resigned sigh, you began stripping down, feeling the weight of his gaze linger, even though he wasn't watching you like that. His focus was intense, like he was making sure you didn’t skip a single step.

Katsuki stepped forward and locked the door behind him with a soft click, the sound echoing in the small, tiled space. The air between you thickened as he moved to turn on the water in your freshly cleaned shower, the spray sputtering to life.

Steam rose, filling the room, curling into the corners like a mist creeping through your thoughts. He tested the water with his hand, adjusting the temperature before turning to you, his eyes softer now, but no less serious.

“Get in,” he said, the command laced with care. His hand hovered near your elbow, ready to steady you as you stepped into the tub. You felt small under his watchful eye, but also cared for in a way that made your throat tighten.

Once you were safely under the warm spray, Katsuki turned away slightly, giving you some space, though he stayed close. He wasn’t leaving. Not until he was satisfied. You stood there for a moment, feeling the water cascade over your body, washing away the grime and exhaustion that clung to your skin.

You knew you had about five minutes before he turned back around, so you hurried, scrubbing yourself down with more effort than usual.

It wasn’t long before he came back, his eyes flicking over you with a critical, almost soft look. Satisfied with your effort, Katsuki reached for the showerhead and rinsed you off himself, his hands guiding the water over your skin. He was gentle, methodical, like he was handling something precious.

And in his eyes, that’s exactly what you are.

After rinsing you clean, Katsuki gestured for you to sit down in the tub. The air was thick with the scent of soap and steam, but beneath it all was the tension that neither of you had fully addressed. As you lowered yourself into the bubbles that Katsuki had added, you felt your face flush at the intimacy of it all.

“Ya know,” he began, his voice rough but laced with something deeper, “when I got home early, I was happy.”

You looked up at him, blinking away the water droplets clinging to your lashes. His back was to you as he rummaged through the cabinet, but there was a weight in his words that made your chest tighten. Happy? You hadn’t expected that, not after the way things had spiraled today.

“Kirishima already went up to surprise your little friend,” he continued, his voice casual but still laced with that undeniable edge of possessiveness.

He found a bottle of your favorite bath oil and added a few drops to the water, the subtle scent filling the room. Katsuki always had a way of paying attention to details like that. Things you didn’t even think he noticed.

“So it was just gonna be me and you this weekend. Me and my girlfriend.”

The way he said my girlfriend made your pulse quicken. There was something about the way Katsuki spoke when it came to you, the way he claimed the words, made them his own. It was possessive, sure, but not in the suffocating way.

It was like he was reminding you that you were his priority, even when you couldn’t take care of yourself.

He finally turned back to you, kneeling by the tub so that his eyes were level with yours. The light in the room flickered, casting shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more intense. His vermilion eyes locked onto yours, and it felt like he was staring straight into your soul.

“So it was gonna be me and you,” he repeated, his voice quieter now but no less serious. “But instead, I come home to find you falling apart.” His hand reached out, fingers brushing over the wet strands of your hair, pushing them back from your face. The gesture was soft, but there was a weight behind it.

“What the hell, babe? You can’t even take care of yourself while I’m gone?”

You opened your mouth to respond, to explain, but he cut you off with a small shake of his head.

Katsuki’s hands were firm but gentle as he lathered your hair with shampoo, his fingers working through your scalp in deep, circular motions.

The pressure was so perfect that your eyes fluttered shut, a low hum escaping your throat as your body relaxed into the bath. It was embarrassing how good it felt, how every stroke of his fingers seemed to melt away the exhaustion clinging to your bones.

You could barely keep your head up, and just as your eyes threatened to roll back in your head, Katsuki splashed water at your face, jolting you back to reality.

“Oi, don’t go passing out on me just yet,” he muttered, though there was a playful smirk tugging at his lips. He shifted behind you, grabbing the showerhead to rinse out the soap, the warm water cascading down your back as he continued his work. The rhythmic sound of water filled the space, a stark contrast to the gruffness in his voice.

“You’re lucky I didn’t pounce on your ass the second you walked back into the apartment, lookin’ all messed up like that,” Katsuki grumbled, his hands sliding down your shoulders to scrub your back.

His fingers traced the curve of your spine, his touch lingering as he was refamiliarizing himself with every dip and curve.

“You think I like seein’ you like this? All run-down and weak? You’ve got more in you than this.”

Katsuki paused, his hand hovering over your shoulder, and you could feel the weight of his stare even though you weren’t looking at him. “I just want you to be healthy. To take care of yourself the way I know you can.”

His hand moved down, scrubbing your arms with the washcloth, his roughness tempered by the care behind every stroke. “I get it, life’s a pain in the ass sometimes, but you don’t get to fall apart like this. Not when I’m around to make sure you’re good.”

His words were gruff, but there was something softer beneath the surface—a quiet worry that he’d never fully admit to. Katsuki rinsed you off, the soap sliding down your body as he worked, his attention never wavering.

As he moved to scrub your legs, his touch slowed for just a moment.

“You’re tough,” he muttered, almost to himself, his hand brushing along the curve of your thigh. “But that doesn’t mean you’ve gotta do everything on your own. I’m here, alright?”

He rinsed you one last time, his hand lingering at the small of your back as if anchoring you to the moment.

“And don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easy,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You owe me for not jumping your ass the second I saw you. But first, we’re gonna get you back to being you again.”

Your heart pounded, a mix of guilt and gratitude swirling in your chest. Katsuki wasn’t asking for permission. He was telling you. And part of you was relieved that you didn’t have to carry this burden alone anymore.

“No excuses,” he muttered, his fingers trailing down to tilt your chin up so you couldn’t look away. His thumb brushed against your lips, lingering there for a moment. “You don’t get to lie to me about this anymore.”

His gaze softened, but the intensity of his words remained. “I’m gonna make sure you’re alright. Even if that means watching over you every damn second.”

You nodded, the movement small, but Katsuki saw it. His hand dropped from your chin, and he leaned back, standing up to his full height as he grabbed a towel from the rack.

“Good,” he said, his voice softer now. He draped the towel over his shoulder and held out his hand to help you out of the tub. The air was cool against your skin as you stepped out the tub, his touch lingering on your shoulders as he pulled you close. The weight of the day seemed to melt away in that moment, leaving just the two of you standing there in the quiet.

Katsuki is rough around the edges, sure. But when it came to you, there was no doubt—he’d take care of you, fuck everyone else.

Katsuki wrapped the fluffy towel around your body, still warm and soft from the dryer. You nuzzled into it, relishing the feeling of warmth against your skin, the scent of fresh laundry lingering in the air. His chuckle was low, almost rumbling through his chest as he set you gently on the bath mat.

"Wait here," he said, his voice firm yet filled with that protective edge you’d grown so used to. You sat obediently, the towel cocooning you in its comforting warmth as Katsuki disappeared briefly.

When he returned, he carried a chair from the dinning and placed it in front of the bathroom mirror. He motioned for you to sit, and you did so without protest. The exhaustion still clung to you, but the care he was giving made it easier to just lean into his routine. You felt his fingers work through your damp hair with gentle precision as he sectioned it off to braid.

The motions were firm but soft, practiced as if he had done this countless times before. You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax under his touch as he skillfully wove your hair into two simple, neat braids.

“There,” he murmured, wrapping a towel around the ends to help them dry. “That should do for now.” He gave you a brief once-over, satisfied with his work.

Next, Katsuki grabbed a toothbrush and came back toward you, squeezing a dollop of toothpaste onto it. Before you could protest or joke, he pressed the brush gently against your lips, and you reluctantly opened your mouth.

As he began brushing, your lips curled in a playful pout, and you made an attempt to nip his fingers with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Katsuki’s reaction was immediate, pulling back just slightly before leaning in close, his face inches from yours, eyes glinting with amusement.

“You really want me to bite you, huh?” he teased, voice low as his breath brushed your skin. You pouted but couldn’t stop the smile from creeping in. Slowly, you nodded, biting your lower lip. He smirked at your response, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin between your neck and shoulder, just enough pressure to make you shiver.

Your breath hitched as you squeezed him, wrapping your arms around his waist, but the sound that almost escaped you was quickly stifled as you pulled back, burying your face into the towel.

Katsuki chuckled darkly, clearly pleased with himself. "Behave," he muttered, finishing with your teeth. He handed you the mouthwash next. “Rinse,” he instructed, his eyes following your every move. You swished the cool liquid around before spitting it out, feeling oddly refreshed.

Once that was done, he moved on to the next part of his routine—your skincare. His touch was methodical as he washed your face, scrubbing gently and making sure every inch of your skin was properly cared for.

You could feel the cool cleanser on your cheeks as he worked, and there was something oddly intimate about the way he treated each step like it was second nature.

“No more mascara,” Katsuki said, narrowing his eyes as he gently dabbed a soft towel against your skin. “I want you to keep those damn lashes.”

You giggled at his comment, catching his eye in the mirror. “Hitoshi says we’re the only ones who make insomnia look sexy,” you teased.

“Don’t take compliments from a guy who needs a bag check for his fuckin’ eyes.”

You snorted, while Katsuki was rolling his eyes. “That idiot looked like death last mission. He and Denki passed out under the table like a couple of idiots,” he said, shaking his head.

“We should to check in on them—”

He interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “We can check on them tomorrow.”

His gaze shifted, locking onto yours with a possessive glint that made your stomach flutter. “You’re all mine this weekend. Those extras can wait.”

You blushed, your face softening as the weight of his words settled over you. The tenderness beneath his rough exterior always caught you off guard, especially when he showed it in moments like these. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, and for once, it wasn’t just because of the cozy towel wrapped around you.

Katsuki reached into the drawer, grabbing your favorite lip oil with a casual confidence, but his movements slowed with deliberate care as he traced the line of your cupid's bow, filling in your lips with precise strokes.

You felt the cool glide of the oil over your lips, the faint scent of vanilla filling the air between you. Watching him concentrate so intensely on such a delicate task brought a smile to your face.

“I can remember the last time you did something like this~”

you teased, the sing-song lilt in your voice light, playful. His reaction was immediate—his sharp vermillion eyes snapped back to yours, but his reddening ears gave him away. For all his confidence, a comment like that still managed to fluster him. The slight color spreading across his face would’ve been easy to miss if you hadn’t been watching him so closely.

His scowl deepened, and he growled, “So you wanna get your ass knocked out or what?”

You giggled, placing one hand on his solid shoulder, your fingers brushing against the heat radiating from his skin. Then, with a grin, you pressed the crown of your head into the crook of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin against your cheek.

“Nooo, I’m just so happy you’re here!” Your voice was soft, genuine, the relief and joy of his presence making you melt into the moment.

Katsuki’s tension ebbed as he rolled his eyes, the smallest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He let your teasing slide, his usual gruffness tempered by the tenderness he rarely let anyone else see.

Without a word, he scooped you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing, his strength effortless as he held you close to his chest. You clung to him, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt, his heartbeat steady under your palm.

‘God, I love your heartbeat.’

As he carried you through the apartment, Katsuki flicked off the lights with a casual swipe of his hand, the darkness closing in behind you both. When you entered your room, you were greeted with the fresh, clean scent of laundry detergent and something distinctly Katsuki.

You blinked in surprise, realizing just how spotless everything was.

The bed was made, your clothes folded, and the air felt lighter, even though your mirror—still cracked from earlier—reflected back the remnants of your impulsive outburst. The shards of glass had already been swept and vacuumed away, leaving no trace of the mess.

Before you could comment, Katsuki threw you onto the bed, your body bouncing lightly against the plush comforter. “Hey!” you protested, mock indignation coloring your voice as you propped yourself up on your elbows, glaring at him.

He just smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’re asking for it.” You narrowed your eyes, grabbing one of your stuffed animals—a soft, well-loved bunny—and held it up like a threat. “I’ll throw all my stuffed animals at you, Katsuki, don’t test me.”

But the playful moment quickly shifted, his expression darkening with a predatory edge. His eyes gleamed as he climbed onto the bed with slow, deliberate movements, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight as he stalked toward you, inch by inch, like a wild animal sizing up its prey. The air between you thickened, electric, and your breath caught in your throat.

"You really wanna do that, sweetheart?" His voice was low, dangerous, sending a shiver down your spine. His gaze flickered briefly to the stuffed bunny in your hand before it snapped back to your face. "When you know how I feel about your 'babies'?" The way he drawled out the word—"babies"—made heat coil low in your stomach, your body responding involuntarily to the tension in the air.

Your grip on the bunny loosened, and without thinking, you let it drop from your hand. It tumbled onto the bed with a soft thud, forgotten, as you instinctively wrapped yourself tighter in the towel, your pulse quickening.

Katsuki’s smirk widened at your silence, his voice a low rumble as he teased, “What, no answer for me?” He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours, turning his ear toward you as if daring you to speak.

Instead of words, you leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against the shell of his ear, your breath warm against his skin. “No,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Katsuki chuckled, the sound deep and satisfied. He tugged at the edge of your towel with one finger, pulling it down just enough to expose your neck, your pulse beating rapidly beneath your skin. His lips descended, pressing a hot, firm kiss against the sensitive spot just above your collarbone, his breath hot as he whispered against your skin,

“Good choice.”

Your breath hitched, your body shivering as you leaned into his touch, his kiss lingering like a brand against your flesh. The air around you was thick with unspoken words, the world outside fading away as you lost yourself in the warmth of his presence, the safety and intensity that only Katsuki could bring.

Katsuki’s hands reached for the hem of his skull-printed shirt, fingers curling as he lifted it over his head. The muscles in his arms and chest flexed with the movement, every line of his sculpted frame rippling with controlled power. He didn’t bother tossing it aside like he normally would. Instead, he draped it over you, lowering it onto your head before helping you slip your arms through the sleeves.

You smiled softly as the worn fabric slid down your body, the familiar scent of Katsuki surrounding you like a comforting embrace. His shirt was huge on you, the edges brushing just past your thighs, the warmth of it melding with the heat radiating from him.

You shifted beneath him, looking up as he hovered over you, his palms bracing on either side of your head. The proximity made your heart race, the weight of his gaze sending a shiver of anticipation through your body. Katsuki’s sharp eyes softened for just a second, the intensity still present but tempered with something warmer, more intimate.

He didn’t say anything as you wrapped your arms around his strong back, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath your fingers.

“Come here,” you murmured, giving him a gentle tap between his shoulder blades.

Without hesitation, Katsuki let himself drop, all the glorious warmth of his body pressing against you in a slow, controlled descent. The heavy weight of his chest flattened against yours, and you sighed in contentment, the closeness making you feel grounded.

Katsuki’s body, normally so explosive and full of barely contained energy, was now soft and pliant against you, like he was giving you the privilege of feeling his full, unfiltered presence.

Your hands naturally found their way to his spiky blonde hair, fingers threading through the surprisingly soft strands. For all the sharpness of his exterior, Katsuki’s hair was softer than most people knew—something only a select few had the privilege to experience. He guarded his personal space like a fortress, and it took time for him to let his guard down around anyone, let alone like this.

But with you, it was different. He was different.

He was your fussy Pomeranian—prickly to everyone else, but with a soft, loyal core.

You gently massaged his scalp, your nails scraping lightly against his skin as you worked through the spiked chaos of his hair. You could feel him relax, his tense shoulders loosening as he melted further into you, letting out a low grunt of approval. The sound was almost primal, a rumbling that vibrated through his chest and into yours.

You were so caught up in the moment, fingers tracing the line of his neck and combing through his hair, that you almost missed the sudden burst of air against your shoulder. It wasn’t until you felt the wet tickle of his lips blowing a raspberry into your skin that you realized he was trying to get your attention.

“What the—Katsuki!” you squealed, laughing as the sound reverberated through your skin. He smirked against your shoulder, clearly pleased with himself.

He lifted his head slightly, his red eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. “You listening now, or do I gotta do it again?” His voice was low, teasing, but there was that familiar edge of dominance underneath it all.

You huffed in mock annoyance, rolling your eyes before looking up at him. “What were you saying, genius?”

Katsuki grinned, the corners of his mouth twitching as he lowered himself again, letting his breath fan against your ear. “I said you’re lucky, you know that?” His voice was softer now, but it still held that commanding tone that sent a spark of heat through your chest.

“Lucky I didn’t pounce on you the second I got back.”

His words lingered in the air, heavy with implication, and your breath hitched as you met his gaze. The raw intensity in his eyes, that feral spark you loved so much, was back. It wasn’t just a warning—it was a promise.

You swallowed, your voice coming out a little breathless. “Yeah? And why didn’t you?”

His grin widened as he pressed his forehead against yours, his voice dropping even lower. “Because I’m not an idiot. I could see you weren’t takin’ care of yourself. And I ain’t about to let my girl fall apart while I’m gone.”

You blinked, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you, though his words held a stern undertone. He shifted slightly, his weight pressing more firmly against you as his hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing just under the hem of his shirt. The touch was possessive but careful, like he was reminding you who was in charge of your well-being now.

“I know you can take care of yourself,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “but sometimes, you get stressed and forget.” His hands stilled, resting on your waist. “So I’m gonna do it for you.”

You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Katsuki, in his own gruff way, always knew exactly what you needed. And it wouldn’t even admit it outright, he cared more than anyone you’d ever known.

You felt your hands tighten in his hair again, tugging gently as you let out a soft sigh. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling a mix of affection and guilt. You knew you hadn’t been taking care of yourself lately, but hearing him say it hit differently. It made you realize just how much he’d noticed, how much he’d been keeping track, even when he wasn’t around.

Katsuki didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he shifted his weight, lifting his head to look down at you again, his expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah, well... just don’t make me come home to that shit again, got it?” His voice was still gruff, but there was an undeniable warmth in his tone.

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. He didn’t need to say it outright, but you knew—he wasn’t going anywhere. Not when it came to you.

Without another word, he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, and you let yourself relax under the weight of his body, feeling safe, loved, and cared for.

The two of you lay there in a soft, comfortable silence, the weight of Katsuki’s warm body settled against yours, his steady breath fanning over your skin.

His arms, strong yet gentle, stayed wrapped around your waist as if anchoring himself to you. The room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the sheets and the subtle creaking of the bed beneath your weight. You were about to close your eyes, savoring the moment, when you felt a slight flutter against your neck. His long eyelashes were brushing against your skin, tickling you softly.

You blinked, lifting your head slightly. "Katsuki, you alright?"

A muffled, "Yeah," came from him, his voice low and slightly hoarse as he nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder. But something in the way he said it made you pause. His head shifted, settling over your boob (chest), right where your heart was. The sensation of his ear pressing against your heartbeat sent a wave of warmth and electricity rushing through you. Your soul felt like it was lighting up, a familiar connection between you two sparking alive.

Katsuki reached for your hand, his calloused fingers weaving through yours with a gentleness that contrasted his usual roughness. He lifted your intertwined hands and pressed them over his own heart, resting them there. The sensation, the intimacy of the moment, sent a tingle through your entire body, filling you with an overwhelming sense of love and connection. It was rare for Katsuki to be this tender, to show you this vulnerable side of himself.

And yet, as you lay there, your heartbeats in sync, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

A soft, involuntary smile tugged at your lips as you looked down at him. You could feel the rhythm of his heart beneath your palm, steady and strong, and you were certain he could feel yours, too. The electric charge between you wasn’t just emotional; it felt physical, like your very essence was reaching out to him, and he to you. Katsuki, usually so tough and guarded, was here in your arms, sharing this tender moment.

But as you lay there, soaking in the warmth of the moment, something shifted. Katsuki stiffened slightly in your arms, his body going rigid against yours. You could feel his breath hitch, and when you looked down, you saw the confusion in his eyes, the way they glistened with unshed tears. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, he looked completely lost, almost scared.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice laced with concern as you felt him tense even further. A flicker of panic shot through you. You knew how hard it was for Katsuki to express his emotions, and seeing him like this, vulnerable and on the verge of breaking down, tugged at something deep inside of you.

"Are you having those pains again? Is it your chest?!"

Katsuki shook his head quickly, but his face contorted, and he let out a sharp sniff, his breaths coming faster. His fingers squeezed yours, his grip tightening as his other arm wrapped around your waist with almost a desperate strength.

You could feel the heat rising off his skin, his body suddenly clammy as if he were in a battle. His muscles tensed and flexed, his jaw clenched as he tried to fight whatever emotions were threatening to spill out.

"'S alright," he mumbled into your chest, but you could hear the tremble in his voice, the way it cracked as if he were holding something back. He buried his face deeper against you, curling into your body as though trying to shield himself from the storm brewing inside him.

"No, 'S not alright," you countered softly, your hand moving to rub slow, calming circles over his sweaty back. "Come on, Katsu, you know you can tell me."

You felt his heart pounding harder against your hand, the frantic rhythm echoing through your palm. His breath hitched again, and you instinctively shifted, running your fingers through his hair to calm him. Your other hand moved to the back of his neck, rubbing the tension out of his tight muscles as his breaths came in shallow gasps.

Katsuki’s palms, usually dry and strong, grew slick with sweat, and you could feel his hands trembling as they gripped yours. He sniffed again, louder this time, his body shuddering as he tried to regain control. Several deep, shaky breaths followed, but he didn’t pull away.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he lifted his head. His red eyes were rimmed with unshed tears, his lashes wet as he blinked them away. He sat up slowly, pulling himself out of your embrace, though he still held onto your hand like a lifeline. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his gaze distant as if he were trying to sort through the mess of emotions swirling inside him.

You reached up, gently brushing a tear away from his cheek. “Baby, talk to me, please.”

He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled to find his voice. When he finally spoke, his words were soft, raw. “I dunno... I just—” He paused, his jaw clenched as he looked down at your hand still resting over his heart. “I dunno what’s wrong with me.”

Your heart ached at the sight of him like this, so vulnerable and confused. Katsuki wasn’t used to feeling things this deeply, wasn’t used to letting anyone in like this. But here he was, breaking down in front of you, and all you wanted to do was hold him together.

You scooted closer, sitting up and pressing your forehead against his. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Katsu,” you whispered, your voice soothing as you cupped his face in your hands. “You’re just... feeling things. It’s okay.”

Katsuki closed his eyes, his breath shuddering as he leaned into your touch. “I don’t like it,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration. “I don’t like not... not being able to control it.”

You kissed his forehead softly, letting your lips linger there for a moment before pulling back. “You don’t always have to be in control. It’s okay to let go sometimes.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, just sat there with his eyes closed, his breathing slowly evening out as he let your words sink in. When he finally opened his eyes again, they were still glassy, but the panic had faded, replaced by a quiet resolve. He looked at you with an intensity that took your breath away.

“You make me feel things I don’t know how to handle,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t... I don’t wanna lose it.”

You smiled softly, your heart swelling as you pressed another gentle kiss to his cheek. “You won’t lose it, Katsuki. I’m here.”

Katsuki’s hand tightened around yours as he pulled back slightly, taking in a deep, steadying breath before speaking again. His eyes, still a little glassy but full of determination, met yours with a quiet intensity. “I didn’t want to be away from you,” he started, his voice soft but firm. “Even if work’s important... to me, you’re more important.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him that his work as a hero mattered, that it saved lives, but the look he gave you made you stop short. His gaze softened as it met yours, a silent plea for understanding. And instead of fighting back, you took his rough, calloused hands in yours, bringing them to your lips and pressing soft kisses to his knuckles. Then, with a small smile, you pressed his hands gently to your cheeks, letting him feel the warmth there, the quiet affection you had for him.

“I’m with you,” you whispered, and those simple words seemed to ease the tension in his body. He let out a slow breath, his chest rising and falling heavily before he continued.

“I get it,” he said, his voice a little stronger now. “Why you’re always trying to be so independent. You’ve got your own life, your own goals, and I want to respect that.” His thumb gently brushed against your cheek as he spoke, as though grounding himself with your touch.

“But I can’t... I can’t just sit by and watch you not take care of yourself. Sometimes... I feel like it’s my job to make sure you’re okay, ‘cause I... I love you.”

His voice cracked on those last words, and you saw the raw emotion flicker in his eyes. Katsuki wasn’t used to being vulnerable like this, to letting people see the softer side of him. But he was here, laying it all bare in front of you. You could feel the weight of his words, the sincerity, the fear that maybe you didn’t need him as much as he needed you. It tugged at something deep inside you.

“I love you, and I want to take care of you,” he went on, his grip on your hands tightening as if he were afraid to let go. “I wanna protect you, keep you safe, even when you don’t think you need it. It’s... it’s who I am. And I’m not gonna apologize for it.”

Your heart swelled with affection, and you moved your hands over his arms, gently rubbing along the firm, tense muscles as you tried to soothe him. His skin was warm under your touch, and you could feel the faint tremble in his shoulders as he kept talking, the weight of his emotions finally spilling out.

“I just...” Katsuki paused, his voice faltering for a moment as he swallowed hard, trying to keep the lump in his throat at bay. “This time away from you... it made me realize a lot. How much I love you, how much I need you around. I can’t stand it when I’m not with you, even if it’s just for a few days.” He let out a small, almost bitter chuckle. “You probably think it’s stupid, huh?”

You smiled softly, shaking your head as you continued to run your hands over his arms, feeling the tension slowly melt away under your touch. “It’s not stupid,” you whispered. “I missed you too.”

Katsuki’s eyes flickered with relief, but there was still a hint of frustration lingering in his expression. “But you... you don’t take care of yourself, not the way you should,” he said, his voice more serious now. “You always look after everyone else—hell, you make sure everyone’s okay, but you don’t do the same for yourself. It drives me crazy.”

You gave him a playful smile, trying to lighten the mood just a little. “You can’t keep an eye on me all the time, Katsu.”

He huffed, narrowing his eyes at you. “That’s the problem. I can’t. And you don’t make a habit of neglecting yourself, but when you do... you’re a hypocrite. You’ll run yourself into the ground to help everyone else, but then act like you don’t need anyone to do the same for you.”

You wanna stick your tongue out at him but knowing Katsuki, he’d make you regret that all night long.

Katsuki’s intense gaze lingered, tracing every inch of you with a sharp, possessive look that made your heart race. His eyes moved from the top of your head, down the gentle curve of your neck, over the way his oversized skull shirt bunched up on your thighs, and down to your toes.

You could feel the weight of his stare, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, it seemed like the air between you thickened with tension.

Then he blinked, and it was like a fog lifting. He shifted, reaching into the deep pockets of his sweatpants with a small grunt. “I wanted to do this ‘right,’ ya know,” he muttered, almost to himself, but the words were laced with that familiar gruffness. His fingers fiddled with something in his pocket, his focus still mostly on you.

“Spent weeks with those dumbasses—picking out flowers, going through all these fancy restaurants, trying to get the perfect gift. Because you’re my girl, and I only get the best for you.”

His voice was low, raspy, and the way his eyes softened briefly before trailing down to your legs made your breath catch. His hand, rough and warm, ghosted over your ankle as if testing the waters before his grip tightened, just enough to pull you slightly closer with a small, teasing tug.

The movement startled you, and you yelped, instinctively wrapping the towel tighter around your waist as you scrambled upright, your heart hammering against your ribs. Katsuki’s laughter rumbled through the room, deep and genuine, the sound like warm honey coating the air. He was taking in the sight of your flustered reaction with a wicked grin plastered on his face.

“Kats,” you started, still catching your breath as you eyed him suspiciously, “what are you getting at?”

The mischievous gleam in his eyes returned, that familiar cocky, dangerous look that always made your pulse quicken. His grin softened into something more meaningful, more grounded, but still tinged with that wild spark. That look in his eye? It was the one that always had you convinced that all the hot ones were definitely crazy.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he confessed, his voice dropping into something more intimate, more vulnerable.

“Since I met you.”

You blinked, watching as his gaze flickered down to your bare legs. His jaw clenched for a split second, and he let out a low curse under his breath. “Should’ve used that damn lotion,” he muttered, almost to himself, clearly irritated that he hadn’t taken the chance to pamper you properly.

The moonlight filtering in from your window cast a silvery glow over him, highlighting every cut and line of his muscles as if he were carved from stone.

He was beautiful, raw, like a storm contained just beneath the surface, and for a brief moment, you were distracted by the sight of him—the rise and fall of his chest, the way his stomach flexed with each breath.

You could have his babies right here, right now.

Then his voice softened again, and the mood shifted as he spoke. “I love you. I really do.” His tone was hushed, like it was just for you. His eyes—usually so full of fire and determination—now held something much deeper, something vulnerable that he rarely let show. It was just him. Your Katsuki.

“I’m not good with this shit. I know that,” he admitted, his mouth tugging into a small, self-deprecating smirk. “But I wanna do this right.”

You blinked, feeling the air grow heavier as he squared his shoulders, a determined glint returning to his eyes. His hand finally left his pocket, and in one swift, almost impatient motion, he pulled something out and opened it in front of you.

A small box. Velvet. The kind that held only one thing.

Your breath hitched, and your entire world seemed to narrow down to that tiny box and the ring inside it. It glittered in the low light, catching the moon's glow, but the details were lost on you as your heart thudded wildly in your chest.

Katsuki looked at you, dead-on, his expression both serious and soft at the same time, like he was offering you everything he had.

“Would you marry me and be my hot mess?”

For a split second, you couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t even process the words that had just come out of his mouth. You felt like someone had knocked the air out of your lungs with a feather—hell, they could have knocked you over with one.

The world stopped spinning. Your eyes darted between the ring and Katsuki, who was watching you carefully now, his breath held as if he was waiting for your next move. You could feel the gravity of this moment pressing down on your chest, and yet... it wasn’t the heavy kind of weight that scared you. No. It was something else entirely.

It was the kind of weight that came with the realization that this moment, this person in front of you, was everything you never knew you needed.

A million thoughts raced through your mind, and none of them made sense, but your body reacted first. Your lips parted, but no words came out at first, only a small breathless laugh as you brought your shaking hands up to your mouth. Katsuki’s eyes searched your face, trying to gauge your reaction, and the barest hint of nerves flashed behind his hardened exterior. He might’ve been a fearless hero, but this?

This was different.

“Katsuki,” you whispered, barely able to find your voice as the emotions swirled inside you. “You... you’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” he replied immediately, his voice unwavering now. His eyes bore into yours with that fierce conviction only he could pull off. “I’ve been serious about you from the start. I love you, and I’m not waiting around anymore. I want you. With me. Always.”

His words sank into you, and before you even fully realized what you were doing, your hands shot forward, grabbing his face, pulling him down toward you. You kissed him—deeply, passionately, pouring everything you had into it, letting the overwhelming feelings consume you.

His lips were warm, familiar, grounding. Katsuki groaned softly into the kiss, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you closer as if the space between you was too much to bear.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads pressed together, your breath mingling with his as you both panted softly. The world around you faded, and all that was left was the man in front of you and the question still hanging in the air.

“Yes,” you breathed, smiling through the tears that had welled up in your eyes. “Yes, Katsuki. I’ll marry you.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw it—the raw, unfiltered joy on his face. It wasn’t loud or boastful, but it was there, in the soft curl of his lips and the way his eyes shone with unshed tears.

Katsuki Bakugo had won another battle—this time, with your heart.

Katsuki's rough fingers, calloused and warm, carefully slid the ring over your finger, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. You couldn’t help but gasp as the gem caught the light, sparkling in a way that made your heart skip a beat. It was more than beautiful—it was personal. The stone in the center was your birthstone, cut into your favorite shape and polished into your favorite color, surrounded by a delicate halo of tiny rubies. Rubies just like his eyes.

Your gaze flickered to the ring and then back to Katsuki. “How… how did you…?” you whispered, utterly floored. The details were so specific, the kind that you had only mentioned in passing, mostly to Michael. But somehow, Katsuki had pieced it all together.

The rubies glistened against the band, and nestled between them were smaller gemstones that mirrored the exact shade of your eyes. And if that wasn’t enough, there was another set of gems, a deep, fiery orange—the color of Katsuki’s favorite thing: explosions.

You turned the ring over in your hand, overwhelmed by the craftsmanship, the thoughtfulness. Every inch of the piece was a reflection of you, of him, of both of you together. Whoever he went to had worked some serious magic. As your fingers brushed over the band, something else caught your eye. With trembling hands, you slipped the ring off, turning it over, and there it was—engraved into the inside of the band in Katsuki’s unmistakable bluntness:

“I love you, dumbass.”

That was it. The tears came again, flooding your vision before you could stop them. Your chest tightened with the overwhelming sweetness of it all. You’d never expected this. How could you? This whole day had taken such a turn that your emotions were a tangled mess, and now, here you were, crying like a baby over a ring. But it wasn’t just any ring—it was him, you, everything.

“Katsuki,” you sobbed, bringing the ring to your chest as if it could stop the flood of emotions. Your voice trembled, but before you could even say another word, Katsuki’s eyes widened in pure panic. He hated when you cried. Hell, it wasn’t often that you let yourself fall apart like this, and seeing you like that sent him spiraling.

“Oi, oi! Don’t cry, damn it!” he barked, his voice frantic as he moved in closer, cupping your face with both hands. But then his panic melted into something softer as his thumbs wiped away the tears.

“I’m serious, stop it, or you’re gonna make me lose it.”

But the sight of your tears didn’t stop him from acting on impulse. In typical Katsuki fashion, he leaned down and kissed you, first pressing his lips all over your face, desperate to dry every tear. But he didn’t stop there. In a ridiculous, completely endearing move, he leaned over and licked your cheek, tasting the saltiness of your tears with a playful smirk. You squealed, pulling away in shock, your face scrunched up in disbelief.

“Did you just—ew, Katsuki! That’s so gross!”

You smacked his solid chest, half laughing, half horrified, but that only egged him on. “Oh, I’m gross now, huh?” he teased, his voice low and dangerous as he grinned down at you. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he launched himself at you, playfully wrestling you down onto the bed.

“No, no—Katsuki!” you shrieked, giggling uncontrollably as his strong arms trapped you beneath him. He pinned you effortlessly, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. His lips were on you again, peppering your face with kisses, and soon enough, the two of you were tumbling around in the sheets, rolling and laughing like a couple of kids.

The wrestling match was chaotic, full of breathless laughter, limbs tangled up, and soft murmurs of affection between teasing jabs. Katsuki was surprisingly playful, and before long, you were both breathless, collapsing side by side on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as your hearts raced in sync.

You turned your head, catching the way his chest heaved with each breath, a lazy grin tugging at the corner of his lips. His messy hair, usually so spiked and wild, was disheveled in the cutest way possible. Without thinking, you reached out, running your fingers through it, smoothing it back in place. He hummed in contentment, his eyes half-lidded as he looked over at you.

“But where’s your ring?” you asked, suddenly realizing that the gesture had been one-sided. You were the one with the ring on your finger, but what about him?

Katsuki chuckled, his voice rumbling low in his chest. “My ring, huh?” He smirked, eyes sparkling with that familiar cocky glint. “I’ll just give you my wallet, and you can surprise me.”

You blinked, taken aback for a second, before bursting into laughter. “M’Okay!” you replied, your voice full of playful mockery. “But don’t blame me if I pick something pink and covered in glitter.”

“Whatever you want, babe,” he shot back, unbothered by the thought, though you knew he’d raise hell if you actually went through with it. The both of you erupted into laughter again, the sound filling the room like music.

Katsuki shifted, rolling onto his side as he gently took your hand in his, threading your fingers together like he always did. His lips found your hand again, this time softer, more purposeful. He kissed the spot right over your ring, his lips lingering there for a moment, as if sealing his promise to you.

“I love you, Katsuki Bakugou,” you whispered, your heart swelling with warmth as you looked at him, your fiancé, the man who had somehow managed to make this chaotic mess of a proposal the most perfect moment of your life.

Katsuki’s eyes softened, his rough exterior melting away in the intimate glow of the moonlight. He squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “I love you too, dumbass,” he muttered, his voice gruff, but his expression was nothing short of tender.

In that moment, wrapped up in each other, you realized something: this—this wild, crazy love you shared with Katsuki—was the only thing that made sense in the world. You lay there together, side by side, hearts entwined, you knew without a doubt that you had found your forever.

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a soft, warm glow across the bed, but you groaned, stretching lazily as you woke up. Your fingers instinctively brushed against your hair, feeling the unruly mess it had become overnight—complete with knots and stubborn curls that had a mind of their own.

You squinted at the brightness as your phone buzzed on the bedside table. Checking it, you saw the familiar ping of an email notification and grinned. You've been paid.

Sweet relief!

Rolling over to share the good news, you blinked in surprise at the empty side of the bed. The sheets were cold, and there was no sign of your fiancé—wait, boyfriend—wait, fiancé! A flutter of excitement bubbled up inside you at the thought of the word.

But the smell of breakfast caught your attention, and any irritation at his absence melted away. The unmistakable scent of eggs, with a hint of something smoky—probably bacon—wafted down the hallway, accompanied by the faint clink of pans from the kitchen.

Katsuki was already up, and the thought made you smile.

Without bothering to fix your appearance, you hopped out of bed, your feet hitting the cool, hardwood floor with a soft thud. You knew you’d hear about it later—how walking around barefoot would make you catch a cold. He always ranted about that kind of stuff, but you’d just smile and give him your usual “Yes, mama,” while he’d glare at you with that fiery look.

But for now, you padded down the hall, completely barefoot, on a mission.

The closer you got, the stronger his scent became—that familiar, intoxicating mix of burnt caramel and something inherently Katsuki. You spotted him before he even saw you, standing at the stove, his back turned, a spatula in hand as he expertly flipped eggs in a pan. His muscles were taut, his broad shoulders moving effortlessly as he worked. He was dressed in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips, and you couldn’t help but admire the sight.

With a mischievous grin, you quietly made your way over, your bare feet silent against the floor. And then, in one swift move, you leapt onto his back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“Hi, fiancé!” you greeted, your voice muffled as you inhaled deeply, taking in that addictive scent that was all his.

Katsuki stiffened for a split second, more from surprise than anything else, but he quickly recovered. With a chuckle, he reached over and turned off the stove, placing the spatula down before his hands found their way to your thighs, gripping them as he adjusted your weight.

“You’re gonna burn the damn house down one day, y’know that?” he muttered, but there was a playful note in his voice. Before you could even respond, he effortlessly spun you around, lifting you off his back and setting you down on the kitchen counter nearby. His strength never failed to amaze you, and you giggled as your bare legs dangled off the edge, your hands resting on his chest.

His eyes softened as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lazy good morning kiss. “Hi, teddy bear,” he mumbled against your lips, his voice still raspy from sleep.

You smiled into the kiss, but just as you started to pull him closer, he pulled back, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Did you brush your teeth?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You snorted, shaking your head. “No.”

He frowned, glancing down. “Did you use the bathroom?”

“Nope.”

His scowl deepened, though you could see the teasing glint in his eyes. “Wash your face?”

“Also, no.”

Katsuki groaned dramatically, running a hand through his messy, spiked hair. “And this is exactly why you’re moving in with me today. You need supervision,” he grumbled, though his voice was more affectionate than angry. Before you could argue, he lightly smacked your thighs, the contact sending a playful jolt through you.

“Katsuki!” you gasped, half laughing as you swatted at him, but he only pointed toward the living room.

Your delicate features blossomed into an expression of confusion. “What?” But he didn’t respond, instead looking so mischievous and pleased with himself.

That’s when you noticed it—half of your living room was in disarray, large boxes stacked high, and furniture already disassembled. It looked like a moving truck had stormed through your place. Your jaw dropped as you stared at the sight.

“KATSUKI!” you shrieked, your voice bouncing off the walls as the reality of what he’d done sank in. He had already packed half your stuff—without even telling you! You couldn’t believe it.

He didn’t even flinch at your outburst, just gave you that smug, self-satisfied grin of his, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“What? I told you, you’re movin’ in today. Thought I’d help speed things up,” he said, shrugging as if he hadn’t just dismantled your entire living room.

You huffed, staring at the boxes like you couldn’t believe your eyes. “You could’ve at least warned me!”

He chuckled, stepping closer until he was standing between your legs, his hands resting on either side of your waist. “Nah. You’d just overthink it. This way, it’s done, and we don’t have to argue about it,” he smirked, leaning in to kiss your nose.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “I’m still not done with school, you know. And we haven’t even… there’s no… ring on your finger.”

Katsuki quirked a brow, his smirk turning wicked. “I told you, give me my wallet, and you can surprise me with the ring.”

You laughed, shaking your head at his nonchalance. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am,” he said, the playful edge to his voice making your heart skip a beat. “And don’t worry about school. You can study at my place just fine.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, he kissed you again, this time more firmly, his lips capturing yours in a way that made your head spin. You melted into it, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as you pulled him closer, your feet curling around his calves.

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your lips tingling. “You don’t play fair,” you muttered, but the smile on your face betrayed you.

He grinned, kissing your forehead softly before pressing his lips to your knuckles where your ring sat. “I play to win, babe. And I already did,” he whispered, his voice low and full of affection.

You sighed, leaning into him, knowing full well that Katsuki Bakugou always got his way.

Before you could respond to his sweet words, a mischievous glint sparked in your eyes. You leaned in closer, pretending to go in for another kiss, but at the last second, you bit him—just lightly, on his shoulder—before snatching the plate of bacon from the counter. Katsuki blinked, his eyes widening in confusion before narrowing sharply as he processed what had just happened.

“You little brat!” he growled, his voice full of playful irritation.

With a squeal, you jumped off the counter, bare feet hitting the cold floor, and bolted for the bedroom, the stolen bacon in hand. You knew exactly what you were doing. Katsuki typically hated when anyone touched his food (although he actually had a habit of feeding you from his plate and fork), but you couldn’t help it. You loved riling him up, especially when he got that fire in his eyes!~

"Come back here, princess!" he barked, and the sound of his footsteps echoed behind you.

You darted around the corner, your heart pounding with adrenaline and laughter bubbling in your throat. The hardwood floor was slippery, and you barely made it to the door when Katsuki’s booming footsteps got louder. He was fast, too fast.

A real predator on the hunt, and you were his target.

“Fuuuuck it, we ball!” you shouted over your shoulder, laughing as you slid into the bedroom. You could hear him cursing under his breath, muttering something about how you were always testing him. You were a princess, and yeah, maybe a bit of a brat, but that was part of your charm. You loved to push his buttons, loved how easy it was to get under his skin.

You heard the door slam behind you as Katsuki entered the room, hot on your heels. His eyes locked on yours, his gaze intense as he advanced. You tried to dodge him, but he was quicker, snatching the plate of bacon from your hands before grabbing your waist and pulling you back into his chest.

“Gotcha now, you little thief,” he growled in your ear, his voice low and warning, but you could hear the amusement in his tone.

You squirmed, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but he held you firm, his arms like steel bands around your waist. “Okay, okay! I surrender!” you giggled, breathless from the chase.

“You’re damn right you do,” he murmured before spinning you around and planting a quick, searing kiss on your lips. It was rough, but it was Katsuki through and through—fiery, intense, and full of passion.

You grinned against his lips, leaning into him. “Guess I’m still your little brat then, huh?”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as he looked down at you with that same possessive, loving gaze that always made your heart skip a beat. “Damn right you are. My brat, my princess, my pain in the ass.”

You laughed, nuzzling into his chest as you felt his arms tighten around you. “And you’re my grumpy fiancé,” you teased, poking his ribs.

Katsuki grumbled, but his smirk softened, his lips brushing the top of your head. “Yeah. But I’m your grumpy fiancé, so fuck it—we ball.”

In that moment, tangled together, laughter still lingering in the air, you knew without a doubt that you were his, and he was yours. No matter what life throws at you, you’d face it together.

Always.

Taglist for Bakugou: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, @raendarkfaerie If you wanna be added lemme know!

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Farmer Bakugou x Gardener Reader here in the master list. I also have a Pro Hero! Bakugou x Sugar Baby fic.

Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

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todorokies · 2 months

Text

WHEN THE LIGHTS ARE LOW - logan howlett

contents 𝝑𝑒 : fem!reader, nsfw, cockwarming, some fluff & angst (?) got mixed up in this, implied legal age-gap, grumpy old man logan (written with ‘logan 2017’ in mind but he isn’t sick), intimacy scares logan but he tries, 1.1k words

a/n 𝝑𝑒 : this is possibly ooc this is my first time writing for him please go easy on me! ,,,, inspired by the song ‘when the lights are low’ by the paragons

“read to me, please?”

the air in the quite spacious room suddenly turned chilled as life around seemed to come to a halt. the eccentric buzzing of traffic seemingly stilled allowing cicadas and woodland birds to make their presence known.

fireflies tangoing into the darkened night jiving the streets alongside citizens peacefully making their way back to their residences.

it’s unlikely for a friday night to be uneventful for logan. a usual run through of the crazed day would be servicing important higher ups in his limousine, taking them to a glamorous black-tie event or a rowdy group of middle aged ladies celebrating a bride-to-be’s last night of freedom.

it was also unlikely for the said man to be in your bedroom after the hours of eight, conversing with you as the pads of his calloused fingertips ghosted over the satin silk that graced upon your body.

his tensed furrowed eyebrows relaxed for once, as he willingly leaves his on edge and guarded demeanour at your porch.

you don’t know how he was able to get the night off and frankly, you aren’t too eager to find out. rather using your energy to melt in his presence and eventually molding into one as his hazel half lidded eyes cautiously watches you straddle him then ease yourself on his semi hard cock.

his eyes immediately screwed shut followed by a throaty low groan once you bottom out, sitting completely still, your pelvises touching one another. your eyes softly flutter at the pleasurable ache as your hands found refuge around his neck and into the brushy hairs on his nape.

your question rings through his ears like a faint echo. with a quirked eyebrow, he lifts his head off the antique bed frame to face you, sharply examining your features.

“you can’t be serious?” he exasperatedly huffed out closing his eyes again and leaned back against the headboard.

you narrowed your eyes at him, “i’m dead serious. why else would you bring your glasses if you knew you had zero intentions of doing any reading?”

he doesn’t miss a beat, “i keep 'em on me at all times.” his voice is flat, not showcasing any emotion to give you more material.

you sigh, your lips pursed into a thin line while glancing at logan’s salt and pepper tufts of hair, allowing silence to fall amongst the two of you, not willing to continue the small squabble for a rather nonsensical request on your end.

that’s until you hear him scoff and mutter under his breath, “yeah, that’s what i thought.”

with a sharply slow roll of your hips you clamp down onto him, feeling his cockhead prods at your spongy spot. he loudly hisses through his teeth due to the sudden sensation, panting slightly as his fist balls up the sheets.

“you should be glad i haven’t hidden them yet, you old fuck,” you coyly beam.

logan’s brows knitted together as he shakily exhaled a deep breath to maintain —what’s left of— his composure, eyes stuck on your figure. great, you’re mocking him now, but he did have it coming he supposes.

his next movements are calculated, hesitant and uncertain as he reaches for your waist. yes, he has touched you before from head to toe, but there is always a sick gutted feeling of his that you’ll easily wither away in his arms leaving his dread to consume his soul once again.

his grip on your waist is loose, a mere nudge from a ghost, until you cuff your own hands over his to reassure his grip on you, his gaze softens.

“what do you want from me tonight?” his voice comes out as a honey dipped whisper, not what you were expecting as a rebuttal. it throws you off course, breath hitching before lightly nibbling on your bottom lip.

what exactly do you want from him tonight? when you received his sudden call five minutes before his arrival your nerves were over the moon. despite being in a relationship with logan for many months now, he always gave you an unorthodox reason to be nervous.

logan is intense. from how he carries himself to his appearance, his gaze all the way down to his speech patterns, the venom he spits out to his enemies or how he loves and cares for others so deeply; flesh, bones and all.

his love intimidates you —which is ironic in the sense that he could say the same exact thing about you— so truthfully, you don’t know what you want from him. only to be close enough to touch him, smell him, and to strip away his clothes to feel his skin onto yours.

but you choose not to say any of this, “shouldn’t i be asking you that?”

he dryly chuckles. the type of chuckle that reverberates against your own body from close proximity. you always loved when he laughed.

“i suppose you’re right, i am your guest after all.”

his larger hands begin to caress your waist, rubbing small circles with his thumb, “why do you want me to read to you?” genuine curiosity is laced in his tone. he stares up at you patiently awaiting for your answer and you now feel like a deer caught in headlights.

his undivided attention makes you shift against him causing the both of you to softly groan then you shrug, because you truly don’t know why yourself.

“i thought it would be a nice thing for us to do.” you nervously start to pick at the skin that surrounds your nails.

he simply hums in acknowledgment and soon captures your hands in his to stop you from fidgeting, “next time, bub, i just want to enjoy this at the moment.”

you break out into an earnest smile, your hands soon snaking its way out of his grasp to place them back on the base of his neck, his hands soon moves to your waist with much more confidence this time around.

“sooo, does this mean you’ll take another day off to visit me again?” your big doe eyes lit up at the possibility of spending another quiet friday night with logan by your side.

he feigns irritation, “who said i took the day off? i just didn’t have anything better to do.”

you playfully shove his shoulder before passionately locking lips with him. he’s tentative to your reactions as he bores his entire life force into you, a match has been light in the pit of his stomach as you both explored each other’s mouths.

he grunts. wanting more, craving more until you pull away, a small string of saliva follows before separating.

“well, next time when you have nothing better to do you’ll just have to read me pride and prejudice.”

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

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katsu28 · 2 months

Text

welcome home, little guy

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: to you, summer break means no races, no responsibilities, and all the poolside piña coladas you can drink. apparently to your boyfriend, it means bringing home a new addition to your family. (1.8k)

a/n: working on way too many things at once rn but i simply couldn't resist <3 lando puppy video u will always be famous to me

To say you’re looking forward to the summer break is an understatement. It’s the first time during the whole season you get to spend two straight weeks with Lando, doing whatever you want, whenever you want. No races, no working, nothing but relaxing with the love of your life for fourteen whole days. You can only imagine the things you’ll do, the places you’ll go.

Truth be told, he needs this more than you do. Things have been a bit tough lately, on and off the track, so to have some time off to rest and recharge before the second half of the season will be good for him. Good for you too, so you can make sure he isn’t thinking about anything other than his well being.

You’re buzzing with excitement at the thought of him coming home any minute now, opting to await his arrival in the comfort of your shared apartment instead of braving the swarming crowd you know for a fact is waiting for him when his jet touches down in Nice. You’re so eager you’re surprised you haven’t paced a hole in the living room carpet. You like to think you’ll kiss him stupid once you set eyes on him, though you also think you’re more likely to cry a little first.

The beep of the front door padlock powering down pulls you out of your thoughts, and then his voice, achingly familiar and soft, “Baby? Are you home?”

“Yeah!” You say, nearly bouncing on the balls of your feet. He appears from the hallway slowly after a few seconds, and his back is facing you, which makes you pause. “Uh…Lan? What’s happening? Why are you facing the other way?”

“Don’t get mad at me,” He replies over his shoulder, lowering his bag onto the floor gently with one hand.

You narrow your eyes at his back, suspicious more than anything. “Why? What’ve you—oh my god, please don’t tell me you got that tattoo you were talking about a few weeks ago.”

“Alright, relax, I didn’t get a tattoo,” He huffs. He’s still facing backwards. “Though it’s good to know how unsupportive you’ll be if I ever do get it, thanks, babe.”

“Seriously, what is going on with you? And for fuck’s sake, love, will you please turn around?”

He spins on his heel gingerly, beaming so bright it rivals the sun. At first, you think it’s because of you, but then you catch sight of what’s most likely the reason for that big smile, and your breath catches in your chest.

The tiniest puppy you’ve ever seen sits snuggled in Lando’s arms, peering out at you with wide eyes. Dark brown fur covers its head and pointy little ears, fading into a lighter coppery color around its eyes before turning pure white at the snout and along the rest of its body. The same lighter brown spreads in a patch along its back.

“Lando, you did not.”

“I did.”

“Are you serious?”

He smiles guiltily, stepping closer with the pup. “Are you mad at me?”

“No, I’m…just surprised, is all. How did you—when did you have time to get a dog while you were working?”

“The team partnered with a shelter for dogs for a video to, like, bring awareness and hopefully get the pups some forever homes, and um, they brought a bunch of puppies,” Lando explains, shifting the puppy a little higher against his chest. You close the leftover gap, reaching out to let the timid pup sniff your hand a few times. “This little guy crawled right up into my lap and didn’t move the whole time we were filming, and I think we just bonded with each other immediately.”

“Bet you loved that, didn’t you?” You smile, stroking its soft fur gently. Whether you’re talking to the puppy or Lando, you’re not really sure, but either way, you’re already feeling yourself start to fall in love.

He gazes down at the dog curled up in the crook of his elbow so fondly you’re almost jealous. You’re not, but you’ve never seen Lando look at anyone or anything with this much love in his eyes before (other than you, and maybe spring rolls). “I know we've never really talked a lot about the right time to get a dog, but I couldn’t—I knew I couldn’t not bring him home with me.”

The pup leans forward, licking your fingertips with his little pink tongue, and your heart melts into a puddle at your feet. It’s true, you’ve had the dog conversation with Lando many times before, all of which always ended the same way. With Lando being away so much and you with your own job, bringing in a new addition to your lives would be tough to figure out.

But as Lando transfers him into your arms, and he instantly nestles up against you like you’re his home, every excuse you’ve ever made for not getting a dog flies right out the window. You know it in your heart, this is the dog you and Lando were meant to love.

“Hi, darling,” You say softly, lifting the pup to your eye level. He’s so small he fits comfortably in two hands, tiny black nose twitching as he cranes his neck out to sniff at you. “You really did a number on this one, huh? Made him fall in love with you?”

Lando steps behind you, sliding his arms around your waist to bring you flush against him. He hooks his chin over your shoulder comfortably, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he gives the pup scratch under the chin. “Seems like he’s doing the same to you.”

“Seems like it,” You hum. You bring him back against your chest and up towards Lando, who breaks into a fit of giggles as his nose gets a good few licks.

“So…can we keep him?”

“This isn’t going to be easy, Lan, you know that, right?” You say. He nods. “We’ve got to take him to the vet, set up sessions with a trainer, potty train him. Figure out how we’re gonna do this when you’re gone.”

“We’ll figure it out before I leave again, baby. We’ve got time,” He insists, rubbing his hands up and down your arms reassuringly. “Besides, I’ve already asked Charles and Alex for tips, they’re coming round for lunch and a chat as soon as they’re back in Monaco. And they’re bringing Leo, so who knows, maybe these two will become best friends.”

“Look at you, planning puppy playdates already. He’s got forever with us now, you know? Let’s get him used to us and this place before we introduce him to others, dog dad.”

Lando scoffs, but not unkindly. More amused than anything. “Well! Seems like we already know which one is going to be the mean parent out of the both of us, don’t we, Archie?”

“That’s his name? Archie?”

“It’s the one the shelter gave him, but we can still change it if we find one we like more.”

“No, it’s perfect,” You murmur, planting a kiss atop Archie’s furry head. “Welcome home, Archie.”

“Yeah,” Lando replies, squeezing you a little tighter. “Welcome home, little guy. We love you so much already.”

You angle your head towards him, catching his chin with your free hand, bringing him towards you and kissing him gently. Lando all but melts into you, happily reciprocating. “Welcome home to you too, my love.”

“Mm, I’ve missed you,” He hums, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a content, deflating sigh. “Gonna be a nice break, innit? No more grainy video chats or time differences for fourteen days, just you and me.”

Archie lets out a whine, the first noise he’s made since Lando’s gotten home, as if to remind the both of you that he’s here too. Lando laughs, smoothing his fingers between the pup’s ears goodnaturedly. “And you too, of course, buddy.”

You know Archie can’t understand a word either of you say, but the way he cocks his head intuitively makes you think that maybe, just maybe, he might.

-------

You’re used to Lando being an early riser, but he always stays in bed waiting for you to wake up on his off days, ready to cuddle with you until one of you gets hungry.

This morning, however, when you lazily reach out an arm to find him, you come up with nothing but cold sheets. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes as much as you can, you squint over at his side of the bed to see his squashed pillow and rumpled duvet, but no Lando. In your half asleep state, part of you thinks you’d just imagined him coming home with a puppy yesterday.

But then you see the crinkly fish shaped toy on the floor in the hall as you go to find Lando, the one you’d insisted on getting on your impromptu trip to the nearest pet supply store last night despite all his huffing and puffing about it.

It’s Archie’s favorite out of all the toys you’d bought, you’d say, based on the way he’d dragged it around the living room for ages even though it was nearly the size of him.

Lando’s laying on the floor in the middle of the kitchen when you make your way in, spread eagle on his back with said puppy standing right on his chest. As soon as he spots you, he lifts his head, grinning at you excitedly. Archie takes note of the sudden movement and barks, leaping off Lando and making a beeline straight to where you’re crouched with open hands.

“Little traitor!” Lando grumbles, pouting as he pulls himself into a cross-legged position. “I’ve played with you for the last hour and you run away as soon as someone else comes along? Rejection is a bitter cold.”

“Don’t be jealous, Lan. Archie just knows who his favorite is already.”

“That’s bullshit,” He scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully. He directs his next words at the pup currently enjoying a nice belly rub from you. “Remember who brought you home, Archibald Norris.”

“Hang on, why does he get your last name? Why can’t it be mine?”

Lando shrugs nonchalantly. “Mine’s got a better ring to it. Duh.”

“That’s not fair, he’s my son too, he should have my last name!”

“Fine, we’ll hyphenate. Happy?”

Your nose scrunches, head tilting side to side in contemplation. “Mm, feels like the short end of the stick, but I’ll take it. Alright buddy, go to your dad! Go, go!” You encourage, throwing the fish toy you’d picked up towards Lando.

“Not the fucking fish!” He yelps, but he grabs it anyway, scrambling to his feet to have Archie come after him in pursuit of his beloved toy. Archie barks up a storm as he chases Lando, tongue lolling out of his mouth, little legs moving as quick as they can.

Sure, maybe there won't be any jet setting away on holiday during this break, but it’s fine. You haven’t seen Lando look this happy in a long time now, so you don’t care at all, really.

In fact, as you watch Lando and Archie run around the apartment like they’ve been best buddies forever, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #lando norris imagine

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uhohdad · 7 days

Text

(18+) König x Reader - Jealous of Your Sex Toys

WARNING: Implied Toxic Relationship Dynamic

You’re a grown woman. You are allowed to have sex toys - it’s expected even. And yet, you feel guilty. Caught doing something you shouldn’t have been. Body locked up and eyes wide as you stare down at the brightly-colored silicone sex toys resting in the flat of König’s massive palm.

“You don’t need these. I’m enough for you, ja?”

It’s a simple question - a yes or no question - but you both know there was enough strings attached you could spool it into a ball of abrasive twine.

You weigh your options.

‘Yes’ - No more sex toys for you. A life of relying purely on your fingers and him, clit never knowing the buzz of a vibrator again. Giving into his will and letting him control you to a degree that you know isn’t healthy.

‘No’ -

Well, you can’t say no.

Aside from how soul crushing you understand the weight of that word would be coming from you - it’s far from the truth. He is enough for you. More than enough - too big, even. Too insatiable. Too much of an ego to not leave you whimpering and covered in the evidence of finish after finish until you were begging him to stop.

Your hesitance is somehow worse than either of your impossible options. You should have just blurted the first answer that came to mind.

His brow quirks as his gaze continues to bore into you with sly, half-lidded eyes.

“No?” He asks, with a quirk of his brow and a thrilling glint of mischief in his eye.

You still can’t bring yourself to confirm or deny.

He nods in understanding, his giant hands wrapping around your sex toys, so little in his palms.

“That’s okay, mein Nervenkitzel Sucher,” He purrs, “I can share.”

Your shoulders brace instinctively, insides coiling as tight as that ball of abrasive twine, those attached strings getting more and more tangled with every silken word that rolls from his tongue. He says it’s okay - but it sure doesn’t feel like he means it. Choking you with those tricky strings.

The fistful of your sex toys - your misdeeds, your dirty, shameful little secrets - falls to his side. He approaches with precise steps until he’s between your knees, looming over you.

“I’ll show you,” He says with a dangerous crinkle in his eyes, a sickeningly sweet smile surely hidden underneath that mask.

You unintentionally shrink in on yourself in the shadow of his hulking, commanding figure. A calculated move. Not-so-subtly reminding you of just how small and defenseless you are in his presence. His voice drops, and those brows furrow, that smile surely faded behind the black fabric obscuring his face as he stares down at you intensely.

Your mouth has gone dry, your attempt at words - an apology, a flirt, a joke, anything - leaves you as nothing but a dried out squeak lodged deep in the back of your throat.

“I’ll show you how I share.”

“Kmph-Kmph!”

“Sh, sh. Isn’t this what you wanted, Blümchen? To keep both?”

You let out a truly pathetic whine, throwing your head back on the mattress. How many times have you cum?

You lost count, lost your very rationality, lost to him - the gift of bittersweet pleasure twisted into something unbearable.

“Greedy, greedy girl.”

Plugged, stuffed, and spread open. Your vibrator buzzes ruthlessly on your abused, swollen, throbbing clit at a torturous speed. Restrained by your own handcuffs, secured tightly to the headboard and keeping you from putting up the fight that would be useless anyway. There’s surely a metaphor hidden somewhere within this detail - but your thoughts are so clouded with arousal there’s no way you’d be find it.

Too much, too much, König, too much!

And while you know he knows exactly what you’re pleading, your mouth will never form the words - stifled by the drool-covered gag nestled between your lips.

His pumps in and out of you at a punishing pace, thick cock soaked with your arousal and disciplined hips snapping against the back of your thighs, ignoring the tears of pure overstimulation streaking down your temples.

He studies you with narrowed, unreadable eyes, watching you writhe. His stare lingers on your chest, arching and twisting beneath him as you fight the cruel pleasure between your legs. His stare is eerily cold for a man whose cock is being pleasured by a warm, tight cunt. You’re not even sure if he’s enjoying it, or if this is purely a lesson he must teach you in his eyes.

You know he’s trying to prove a point - to show you that you only need one or the other. Can’t you see? Both is just too much for a little girl like yourself to handle.

So choose wisely, little one.

♡ KÖNIG DRABBLE MASTERLIST ♡

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 4 months

Text

I WANT YOU CLOSER, CLOSER EVEN STILL ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; in the midst of a rainshower, you run into your mysterious classmate.

word count; 6.1k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, implied no curses au, fluffy summer vibes, forced proximity (my beloved <3), pining, very shoujo manga coded, vague allusions to sugu having a troubled background, (kind of same w reader), switching povs, gojo slander, stsg implications if you squint (my brand), he’s a sweet sweet boy and i love him :((

a/n; teen sugu reminds me a lot of the kind upperclassman type of otome game li… with secret emotional baggage that makes his route really hard to complete….. anyway i dedicate this fic to hit mobage jujutsu kaisen: phantom parade PLEASE bring sugu home to me please please please ple

geto looks beautiful in the rain.

it’s an embarrassing first thought to have, as he rounds the corner and comes into view. a black head of hair, making you stop in your tracks, breathe in a gulp of humid air.

you can’t help it, though.

it’s raining. droplets ricochet against the sidewalk in an endless cadence, the sky above you blanketed by gray clouds; enveloping your city in a summery shadow, the scent of hot concrete and blossoming hydrangeas. everything smells of a blistering summer, youth in a bottle cap. tasty on your tongue.

those very same hydrangeas surround him, on all sides, framing his figure like a painting come to life — splotches of colour, flecks of purple and pink and blue, clashing with the gray sky and the black umbrella in his hand. he looks a little disheveled, hair a little frizzy, bangs sticking to his skin. oddly at peace. when his eyes meet yours, you see a flash of recognition — a tiny spark in the amber hue.

you take that as your cue to move closer.

he waits for you, always so patient, smiling as you look both ways before crossing the street — shoes hitting the concrete in a steady thud, thud, thud. a splash from the puddle you step in.

you’re in a good mood. veins flooding with sugar and buzzing with joy, raindrops sticking to your skin and the plastic bag in your hand, absently humming along to a song playing through your headphones. your clothes are soaked, but you’re smiling; swinging the bag of treats as you walk. bags of chips, colourful lollipops, bottles of ramune, clinking together for every step you take. enough to last you a couple weeks. in your good mood, you ended up stocking up on your classmates’ favorites — bouncing on the balls of your feet at the thought of giving them away, seeing their satisfied little expressions.

you even got something for gojo. he’ll have to fight for it, obviously, but you look forward to seeing his face light up when he takes a bite of the soft mochi.

(you like giving them things. it’s fun. it makes you feel like a normal high school kid.)

nothing can dampen your spirits right now. the entire world smells of rain, and hydrangeas, and apple blossoms from the backyards behind you. a scent that creeps into your bloodstream, sneaks into your breath. a smile grows on your lips — blooming even brighter when you step into your classmate’s orbit.

”hey!” you chirp, raising a hand up in greeting.

”hey,” geto echoes, voice honeyed and smooth, bringing a hand up to wipe at his forehead. wet from the humid air. ”out on a walk?”

with a smile, you lift the plastic bag, grabbing his attention. clasping it tightly, with your wet fingers. ”just went to get some snacks. you?”

”i wanted to get some fresh air,” he smiles. eyeing you up and down. ”did you forget your umbrella?”

silently, he takes in your appearance. your breathing is a tiny bit laboured, and the flimsy, oversized hoodie you’re wearing is sticking to your skin. it’s all that protects you from the steady downpour; no umbrella to be seen. you look small, tilting your head up, meeting his gaze. he feels the beginnings of a smile play at his lips. exasperated. all you do is blink, seemingly unbothered, as if you aren’t straight on the road to catching a cold. you can be a little scatterbrained.

maybe that’s why he can’t help but dote on you.

(that’s what satoru calls it, at least. suguru thinks it’s just called being nice — not like satoru would know anything about that.)

”oh. no, i didn’t forget.” you scratch at the back of your neck. ”just didn’t know it was going to rain.”

the sudden downpour gave you no time to prepare, heavy and abrupt — clouds obscuring the glowing sun in what felt like no more than a second. like someone high above flicked the light switch of the world. all you could do was pull your hood up, try to walk under whatever apple tree you came across. it didn’t help much, though.

you shift your weight from one foot to the other, soles weighed down with dew. sort of sheepish.

geto chuckles, raspy and soft. the sound makes your heart skip a beat. ”didn’t you see the weather report?”

”well, it… just slipped my mind, i guess.”

silently, you avert your gaze. now you remember — yaga-sensei did mention that, didn’t he? you heard him say it. but you just forgot.

geto is laughing at you, a little, from within his eyes; at least that’s the impression you get. so you continue, eager to defend your honour.

”it’s fine, though,” you assure him, smiling brightly. a sunny grin. ”i like the rain!”

geto raises an unimpressed brow, but the expression fades away just as swiftly — giving way to something softer. ”you’re heading back to the dorms, right?” he asks, continuing once you give him a slight nod. ”then we can share.”

you blink. one moment passes, then two. but geto only smiles, shifting his umbrella a little, hoping you’ll get the hint. silently beckoning you over.

it makes you feel oddly flustered.

in truth, you and him aren’t particularly close. he’s nice to you, sure, but geto is nice to everyone. you’d like to call him a friend, but what do you actually know about him? not much.

suguru geto is a bit of an enigma. a little mysterious. he’s polite, well-mannered, and he seems like the most normal of your classmates — but the bar is in hell, because you know for a fact geto isn’t normal either. no normal guy deliberately chooses to keep his bangs like that.

there’s a gap, there. a kind of inconsistency. he’s hard to approach, but he puts you at ease. pulls you in and scares you off. with a soft voice and kind smile, keen eyes and a heavy palm on your head. sometimes he brings you snacks when you study in the library, or helps you with homework. kind of like a dependable senpai. someone to lean on.

… but then there’s that gap.

the real geto, who you’ve only seen glimpses of, only ever in gojo’s vicinity, is boyish and bright — he laughs and pouts and takes up space. he glows brighter than the sun. but the geto you’re seeing, right now, is more like the moon. wearing a polite, patient smile. standing up straight.

waiting for you to join him under his umbrella.

(he’s kind. but is he doing it because wants to, or because he feels obliged to?)

”… oh.” a pause. ”no, it’s fine!” you take a step back, quick to reassure him. ”i can walk there without it! i’m already soaked, anyway.”

geto observes you. for a moment, something in his expression flickers; a crease between his brows.

then he shakes his head. still wearing a comforting smile, the same one he always slips on when he’s around you. ”still. we don’t want you catching a cold,” he persists, sounding something like a nagging mother. ”you’ll miss the exam next week.”

and with that, your shoulders drop.

right — the exam. the one you haven’t been studying for in the slightest, completely distracted by the feeling of summer in the air. the one you can’t fail, under any circumstances, because yaga-sensei can and will force you to take summer classes ad compensation. that exam.

a wistful sigh leaves your lips. ”god, i wish.”

geto chuckles — a little deeper than usual. it makes your heart flutter. then he’s beckoning you over, again, with a slight shake of his head.

”c’mon. there’s enough room for two.”

he gives you that same familiar smile, and you’re forced to admit that you might be slightly weak to it. something about the way his lips tug upwards, the light crinkle of his eyes. a certain glint in them that tells you he’s not budging on the issue.

you’re still a little hesitant. but…

(this is a chance, isn’t it? a chance to bridge that gap between you.)

silently, shyly, you join him under his umbrella. shielding you from the still falling rain.

pitter patter, pitter patter. you don’t know where the rain ends and your own heartbeat begins. he’s so close — your shoulders nearly brushing together. it makes your nerves bubble up, in rhythm with the droplets bouncing off the cover up above. you feel stiff. the tiny, miniscule gap between you feels like a sweltering stove, radiating a heat that warns you to stay away. as if his touch could burn you. like this, you can even smell him; fresh laundry, an earthy cologne. the slightest hint of caffeine and tobacco. you blame it on shoko — the whole dormitory smells of cigarettes, thanks to her.

it’s comforting, though. his scent. blending together with the aroma of rain, wet earth, blooming flowers. with his fragrance smoothing over all your senses, the closeness between you a constant reminder of the situation you’re in, you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

all you do is murmur out a quick thanks, as you begin to walk, in tandem.

geto can’t help but steal a glance at you, out of the corner of his eye. you look a little meek, a little flustered. he hopes the narrow distance between you isn’t making you feel too uncomfortable.

just to be sure, he angles his body away from yours. ever so slightly, one subtle step away, to make the gap a little wider. then, as discreetly as he can manage, he tilts the umbrella in your direction — not wanting the never-ending drops of rain to graze your skin. he can feel them, now, soaking through the material of his shirt, hitting his shoulder. but he doesn’t mind. to his relief, you don’t seem to notice. he’s pretty sure you’d protest; and as enjoyable as another friendly squabble would be, he’d prefer to avoid it for now.

you’re nice. accommodating, he thinks, in a subtle kind of way. always showing up with trinkets after your little outings, offering to get everyone a drink on your way to the vending machines. you’re friendly with the other two; always nagging at shoko to stop smoking, even when she just rolls her eyes and calls you a goody two shoes. recently, you’ve even started to be patient with satoru, even when he tries to get a rise out of you. it wasn’t like that at the start of the year. geto wonders what changed.

he’s a little interested in you. just a little. you’re sweeter than the other two, easier to worry over. he saw you trip over your own shoelaces last week. you’re a little clumsy, a bit of a ditz — airheaded. maybe that’s why he can’t help but feel protective of you. satoru brushes everything off with a cheeky grin, and shoko is self-sustaining, but you’re often in need of a helping hand. the last time he tried that with the other two, they wouldn’t stop calling him mother geto until he smacked them over the head with satoru’s shounen jump issue.

it makes him feel out of place — when he doesn’t have anything to tend to. itchy, a feeling of dread crawling up his throat. peace and quiet feels suffocating, when he isn’t in total control over it.

so, in his own way, small as it may be, geto enjoys taking care of you. grabbing you a carton of strawberry milk, or warding satoru away when he’s annoying you a little too much. he likes the smile you grace him with when he does. it’s pretty. and it’s all geto really knows about you — that, and that there’s a tenderness to you that’s hard to fake. it’s not much to go on.

so this is the perfect opportunity to learn more.

(a heartfelt connection. something he’s always, always craved. something that maybe he can finally have, with satoru, and shoko, and you —

if you’re willing, that is.)

”hey,” he starts, breaking the rainfilled silence. keeping his umbrella steady, leading you both away from a big puddle in the middle of the sidewalk. ”can i ask you something?”

you raise your head to look at him. blinking owlishly, at the sudden question, nerves beginning to rise again. he sounds kind of serious. did you do something? paranoia gnaws anxiously at the ridges of your ribs, but all you can do is swallow empty air and stammer out a meek reply.

”… uh, sure!”

geto glances over at you, his eyes meeting yours. that gaze of his is kind of heavy — the deep colour of his eyes coaxing you closer, luring you in. honey and amber, splotches of cedar and flecks of gold.

they’re pretty.

”this might be kind of a weird question,” he begins, reaching a hand up to adjust his bun, sneaking a finger under the black hair tie. voice light; to put you at ease. ”but i’m just curious.”

he looks ahead, at the street before you, only meeting your stare once you give him a slight tilt of your head. then he parts his lips.

”why did you come here?”

you blink.

silently, confusion painting the interior of your iris, you stare at him. waiting for a clarification that doesn’t come, before giving him a hesitant answer. ”… to get snacks?”

geto has the audacity to laugh, after such a vague question. the sound is light and breathy, melting together with the pitter patter of the rain, and for some reason it strikes you as sincere. ”not like that,” he grins. ”i mean, why did you come to the school in the first place?”

ah.

that’s a different question. harder to answer. he must notice your hesitance, the puzzlement in your features, because he’s quick to elaborate. hiding a smile behind his fist, disguised as a cough.

(you’re sort of cute when you’re confused.)

”i mean — it’s an odd choice, isn’t it? far off the map, barely any students....” you nod along, and he continues. ”i don’t know about your background. but moving away from home must be kind of tough, right?” when he glances in your direction, you notice a sparkle of genuine curiosity in his eyes. ”so i was curious about your reason. if you feel comfortable telling me, i mean.”

a hum. it buzzes in your throat, absentminded, as you stare into space. brows furrowed.

geto gives you time, as much time as you need, always willing to wait. for a minute or so, the only sounds that fill the space around you are the pitter patter of raindrops hitting the plastic cover of umbrella, and the sound of your shoes meeting puddles on the street. silently, you ponder the question. thinking of your answer.

geto has a point. you’ve been curious, too — about how your classmates ended up in such an eccentric little school, so detached from the rest of the world. a quirky private school in the middle of nowhere. you must all be a little eccentric yourselves. that’s probably why you feel so safe with them — you get the sense that you’re all lacking something. something that would ward normal kids away from such an unorthodox choice.

you could say you were just going with the flow. a relative of yours used to work with yaga-sensei, and heard about his position at a newly reinstated private school — heard that he was looking for students to fill the roster.

so you accepted.

(if it was really that simple, geto would already have his answer.)

what drew you in, more than anything, was the promise of something new. a strange, small school, far away from home; from the people you know, the town you know, the life that you’ve lived. far away from the person you are, the person you was, the person you’ve always been.

an escape. that’s all it was.

a way out.

he’s still waiting for your answer, even now, trying to read your thoughts off your face. eyes trailing over every contour. very briefly, you consider dodging the question — but his silent, steady presence squeezes a little honesty out of you.

you want to give him a genuine answer.

”… i guess,” you begin, weighing the words on your tongue. they feel stale, a little awkward, but not dishonest. ”i wanted to stop being me for a bit.”

the words are unexpected, surprising even to your own ears — like your mouth and your mind weren’t quite cooperating, one ahead of the other, one not weighing in on the honest choice. they catch geto off guard.

he looks at you, silently, attempts to dissect your expression; but he doesn’t succeed.

for a second, something flashes in his eyes. a glimmer that you just barely catch, that you can still sense behind his eyelids when they flutter shut. you’re not sure what to call it. recognition, maybe, or something like empathy. a sense of acknowledgement. it’s gone when he opens his eyes.

he doesn’t look at you when he answers.

”… i get that.”

there’s a depth to his words that you’re afraid to uncover. you feel their weight, all the same, glancing up at him, studying his expression, the humid drops of dew that stick to his lashes. and you feel a tug. faint, non-existent, the string between your pinkies —

a growing connection.

(it makes you feel oddly bare.)

all you can give him is a chuckle, a little breathless. ”do you?” you ask, grinning weakly. ”it’s a little melodramatic.”

geto only smiles. silent, comfort personified. there’s no judgement in his eyes, none whatsoever — because he knows exactly what you mean.

fleeing from the past.

it’s a kind of murder, he thinks. a rebirth.

maybe the two of you are similar. similar in the sense that he recognizes the shadow in your eyes, the one he sometimes sees in mirrors; familiar in the sense that you both suffer from that same sickening awareness.

(maybe you want the same thing he wants, what he’s always wanted —

control.)

it’s a realization that creeps up on you, the both of you, slow and steady. a sense of kinship. it envelops you, cradles you close, in the same way molten clouds cover the summer sky.

geto isn’t lying, you can tell. he does get it. you know, just from that tilt of his voice, the way his eyelashes flutter, his absent shifting from one foot to another. and it soothes your worries.

everything is silent, for a bit. you look down at the asphalt, at your own reflection in a puddle, and geto gazes at the bushes of hydrangeas to his right. you feel safe, right next to him, under his umbrella. and he feels content to have you there. your shoulders brush together, for a moment, and it sends a jolt through your heartbeat.

geto inhales a breath.

”by the way —”

”— have you studied for the exam?”

you both still. blurting out the words at the same time, turning to look at each other; sheepishly blinking in the other’s direction.

then he barks out a laugh.

”sorry,” he hums, a sleek smile on his lips. bright and sheepish. ”what was that? the exam?”

”ah — yeah,” you feel heat settle on the back of your neck, crawling up your ears. ”have you, um, studied for it at all?”

geto moves the umbrella from one arm to the other, smoothly directing you to stand on his right instead of his left. guiding you with his hand on your lower back, ghosting the fabric of your clothing. he stretches his free arm, a little stiff.

”yeah,” he exhales. ”not a lot, though.”

”really?” you blink up at him, trying not to blush at how easily he maneuvered you. stupid, stupid heartbeat. ”you strike me as the honour student type…”

geto scoffs. it leaves his lips before he can tug it back. ”satoru said the same thing.”

a breath spills from your lips, almost a chuckle. you’re not sure how to feel about being compared to gojo, of all people, but you’ll let it slide this once. ”well, you just kinda have that vibe.”

now he’s huffing, tethering on the edge of something childish, and your smile grows. you’re seeing him make a lot of new expressions today.

”why, though?” comes a sigh. he must be playing it up, a little — you almost get fooled into thinking he’s pouting. ”is it the hair? i don’t even wear glasses anymore...”

”well —” you pause. ”hold on, you used to wear glasses?”

all you get is an absent hum. he doesn’t notice your wide, shellshocked eyes. ”when i was younger. i got rid of them a couple years back.”

“oh…” you try to imagine it, for a second. he’d look frighteningly good in them. just barely, you manage to keep yourself from saying it out loud. ”i think it’s more just your general personality. like, you’re responsible and polite… or something.”

and geto chuckles; the intersection between a teasing smile and a soft grin. it’s just a little bit ethereal, painted over with the humid summer air. he turns towards you.

”and that makes me an honour student?”

”… okay, maybe not.” you bring a hand up to your hair, fixing it absently. deflating a little. ”you just strike me as intelligent, i guess.”

geto smiles, again, as always. the chuckle that escapes him is faint and fond, and awfully soft, dripping down his lips. ”well, thank you.”

his eyes are warm, burning into yours. all you can do is glance away. you still don’t really understand this sensation — why he’s suddenly so easy to talk to. why he feels like something other than just a classmate, when he looks at you like that.

then again, geto has always been a natural at putting people at ease. maybe that’s why you can’t help but warm up to him, compliantly, the way a child dutifully follows the first butterfly they ever see — it’s a little too pretty to resist.

you want to slip deeper into his world, you realize. you don’t want this moment to end so soon.

”you guys really get along, huh?” you change the subject, speaking slowly, savouring every syllable. there isn’t any rush to get the words out all at once, when you’re with him.

geto blinks, tilting his head.

”hm?”

“you and gojo, i mean.”

a glimmer passes through his eyes, as your query sinks in. ”ah. yeah.” his gaze strays upwards, and a contemplative look settles into his face. he knows what you’re after, what you’re really asking; why are the two of you so close? why do you put up with his antics?

what do you see in him?

he thinks it’s a fair question. it’s not like he hasn’t asked himself the very same thing, before — satoru can be annoying. ignorant, too, and terribly rude. a little prick. when he stole his curry bun yesterday, geto wanted to kill him. spoiled little brat.

(then again, he’s…)

”he’s… well.” geto exhales, a little breathless. tasting the words on his tongue. ”you know how he is — but he’s not a bad guy.”

and it’s true. he really isn’t. satoru is a lot of things; rude and spoiled, cocky and bratty, an expert at ticking everyone off. but there’s a kind of charm, there. an innocence that geto admires.

satoru is childish — because he is a child. a child who knows a lot of things that children shouldn’t know. a child who doesn’t know the most basic of things. satoru doesn’t know how to make friends. he doesn’t know how to ask for help, doesn’t know how to give it. he doesn’t know what cotton candy tastes like, because he’s never tried it before.

his childhood couldn't have been very warm. it definitely wasn’t normal.

is that why he puts up with him, then? out of pity? of course not. the bare thought of it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. he’d never look down on satoru, like that — and he knows he’d hate him for it. if anything, geto thinks that maybe the two of them are close because he doesn’t give him any special treatment. even if satoru wasn’t treated with warmth or love, he was certainly coddled. spoiled. it’s evident, in the way that he acts.

but satoru isn’t a god, and he shouldn’t act like one.

one punch, right across the face; knocking the white-haired boy off his feet. that’s where their friendship began. there were stars in satoru’s eyes, geto thinks, when he looked up at him from the ground. sunglasses fallen off from the impact, blue eyes entirely on display, catching the light of the sun — gleaming with a certain bewilderment. almost amazement. like he didn’t know he could be hit, didn’t know it was possible. the sun shone down on him, illuminating the vague bruising on his cheek, and geto wondered if that was the first punch the boy had ever taken.

it certainly wasn’t a first for him, when satoru lunged at him next —

it was a little juvenile. more than a little deranged. geto isn’t one to throw fists, in the first place — he’s out of practice. the punch he fed satoru might’ve been a little too forceful. he couldn’t help but feel bad, every so slightly, for putting a bruise on that irritatingly pretty face of his.

but it still ended with satoru’s arm around his shoulder, a buzzing voice by his ear, proclaiming them as friends. cheery and bright.

geto couldn’t help but echo the statement.

(satoru is a lot of things.

most of all, he’s really hard to hate.)

geto’s answer brings a smile to your face. ”yeah,” you hum, soft voice breaking him out of his reverie. ”he isn’t.”

he looks at you. silently, a question of his own brewing in his irises — and with you so close, close enough to touch, smiling at him like he’s an old friend… geto can’t help but indulge in his own curiosity.

he tries to appear nonchalant, stealing a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. ”seems like the two of you are getting along better, too.”

”me and gojo?” you blink, surprised. a little flustered. huffing out an amused breath, trying to brush off the bare thought. ”no way.”

geto laughs — it’s a deep sound, a full one. somehow very earnest. you wonder if that’s how his laugh always sounds, whenever gojo’s involved. ”oh, come on. you don’t hate him that much.” a teasing glint blooms in his eyes, as he scrutinizes you. ”or am i wrong?”

you pause. faltering, a little, gaze falling down to the pavement — then to the sky — then to him. and then back to the pavement.

”… i mean…” you attempt to squeeze the words out from within your chest, but you can’t help but feel hesitant. as if gojo could jump out of the bushes at any moment, ready to tease you if you say anything that paints him in an even moderately decent light. ”i don’t… hate him. but he’s still annoying.” a pout slips onto your lips. “he has it out for me, you know.”

geto laughs, again. you note that you’re fond of the sound. ”isn’t that because he likes you, though? he just doesn’t know how to show it. it’s like pulling pigtails.”

”don’t even joke about that,” you scoff, shooting him a scowl. “and that wouldn’t make it any better, even if it was true.”

a fond smile. ”yeah, you’re right.” he opts to dial down on the teasing, shifting into a more sincere tone. ”you do seem more friendly now, though. before it felt like you really hated his guts.”

a hum buzzes in your throat. brows furrowing, as you mull on what to answer with. unsure how you really feel. it’s not like you’re suddenly super close, or anything — but you have gotten friendlier. just by a smidge, but still. you’ve gotten better at putting up with him and his antics, at finding comfort in how open he can be.

after a tiny pause, you speak up.

”… i still don’t really understand him.” you gnaw at the skin of your bottom lip, trapping it between your teeth. “but i think i might be starting to.”

you’re a little embarrassed over the words that fall from your lips, barely above a whisper.

”… he’s not the worst.”

geto smiles, but you don’t see it — gaze still lingering on the droplets that bounce off the pavement. ”i’m glad,” he hums, earnest. ”that guy needs more friends.”

something about his tone of voice urges you to look at him. that smile of his is bright, gleaming in the rain, in the midst of the flowers all around you. a little teasing, a little boyish, but somehow very sincere. you didn’t think you’d get to see it up close.

and you can’t help but chuckle. the raven-haired boy glances over at you, confusion in his eyes.

noticing it, you breathe out a quiet chuckle. ”sorry, it’s just —” a teasing grin smooths over your lips. ”you guys bicker a lot, and you act like he annoys you… but you really care for him, don’t you?”

this time, geto almost stops in his tracks. his eyes widen, slightly, and you’re not sure why he seems surprised — when he always sounds so fond saying satoru’s name, talking about him like they understand each other fully. maybe he didn’t notice it until now.

a moment passes, before he collects himself, clearing his throat and averting his gaze. awfully good at keeping his composure.

(though he fails to fully conceal the flustered look on his face.)

”i wouldn’t go that far,” he mumbles, but it only makes you chuckle again. his lips curl up slightly, at the sound; despite his embarrassment. ”someone’s gotta look out for that idiot.”

”right. of course.”

geto gives you a displeased little look. you bite back a laugh. feeling at ease, by his side — you get the sense that you can trust him, that you could tell him absolutely anything, and he still wouldn't use it against you. it’s a relief.

standing there, under geto’s umbrella, in the shadow of summer, rain obscuring the world — you reach a definitive conclusion.

you want to get to know him. want to see inside his heart, hear more of his thoughts. if you could only step over that gap between you, wriggle your way into his world —

you think you’d be happy.

so, as you walk side by side, narrowly avoiding puddles and breathing in the humid summer air, you try to coax them out of him. little thoughts, bits and pieces of the suguru geto you yearn to meet.

(unbeknownst to you, he’s doing the same.)

you continue to talk. about miniscule things, meaningless things, a comfortable sensation of trust simmering in the air between you. and before you know it, you’ve stepped onto the school grounds, stopping right in front of the dormitory.

”here we are,” geto hums, folding the umbrella and tucking it between his arm and torso. you turn to look him in the eye, taking an absent step away.

”thanks, geto,” you can’t help but smile. ”for letting me walk with you.”

”don’t mention it.” he brushes you off with ease, quick to drag the door open; waiting for you to step inside before following suit. always so accommodating.

for a second, he hesitates. a glimmer of uncertainty, in his eyes, that you miss — stretching out your tired limbs with a shallow groan, enjoying the warm and dry air on your skin.

finally, geto takes the leap.

when he parts his lips, his voice comes out soothing. natural and breathy, floral patterns blooming on his tongue; as silky as jasmine petals. ”you can call me suguru, you know.” he lets the silence linger, for a moment. ”if you want to.”

you turn to look at him, eyes widening, at the sudden offer, and he can’t get a good read on the emotion reflected in them. you seem caught off guard, but he can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing.

after a moment or two, you fumble for a response.

”oh. um — okay? i will, then.” you shake your head, as if brushing off the hesitance you feel, mustering the courage to imitate his offer. ”in that case, you can call me by my first name, too.”

a brief pause.

”… if you want to.”

geto smiles. it’s laced with relief, hard to notice, impossible to miss. instead of answering with an affirmation, he takes a more teasing approach — unable to resist the temptation.

so he says your name. your first name, dragging the syllables out on his tongue, as if tasting it. trying to get used to the way the letters bend as they come out of his mouth. despite the teasing lilt it carries, the sound is oddly earnest; he pronounces it clearly, like he’s trying to call you to his side. you almost feel compelled to take a step towards him.

geto looks you in the eye, as he calls you by your given name, for the very first time — and you can’t help but grow flustered.

”… suguru,” you echo, for whatever reason. you think your brain may be slightly fried. but it feels right, to say it. suguru.

(what a pretty name.)

suguru smiles at you. you think it’s just a little wider than usual, a little more sincere. almost giddy, if you squint. in the open air, the intimate atmosphere simmers.

finally, you clear your throat, glancing in the direction of your dorm room. a silent que for him to follow.

and he does. leaving the umbrella by the hall, before walking you to your door. his steady, soothing presence sticking to your skin. you’re just about to place your fingers on the doorknob, when a pang of realization hits you — stopping you in your tracks.

”oh — right!”

swiftly, you turn on your heel, facing suguru again. he gazes down at you, bemusement in his eyes. watching as you rummage through the plastic bag hanging off your arm. finally, you find what you were looking for; holding it out towards him.

”here,” you give him a warm smile. ”as thanks.”

suguru accepts it, compliantly, allowing you to slip a pack of gum into his palm. he recognizes the brand, one he favours over others. it helps him, on days he can’t find his appetite.

did you see him chewing it at some point, he wonders? when, though?

maybe you’re always paying attention to the people around you. the way they like their coffee, their favoured flavour of gum. it may be a small kindness, an absentminded one, but suguru thinks that makes it all the more meaningful. a kindness that seeps out of you, that draws him in.

he wants to know more, about you. he really does.

but for now, this is enough. a walk back to your dorm, your shared home, talking and growing closer than before.

it’s a small step, but in the right direction.

the pack of gum stirs a mellow, tender feeling in his chest. all he can do is give you a smile, and a thank you that you’re quick to brush off. then you say your goodbyes, and you close the door behind you — flopping down on your bed with a muffled squeal. a giddy kind of excitement swimming in your veins. because finally, finally, you feel like the gap between you has been dented.

you know what his real laugh sounds like. that the tips of his ears turn pink when he’s embarrassed. you know that he used to wear glasses, that you’re a little more similar than either of you could have assumed.

you know that you’re fond of him. fond of a boy with black hair, who smells of summer and rain and chewing gum. fond of a boy you’ve only scratched the surface of.

on the other side of the door, suguru walks back to his room. with a pep in his step, one that satoru notices — because of course he does — appearing from around the corner with a shit-eating grin.

“oh? what were you doing over there, suguru?”

suguru ignores him. popping a piece of the gum you gave him into his mouth, a flavour of apricot melting on his tongue — he sinks his teeth into it, slowly, feeling his lips curl up into a smile.

it tastes of summer and youth. a memory that both of you will savour, for many years to come.

#geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #geto fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x yn #jjk fluff #getou x reader #geto suguru x reader

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laudthingcat · 2 years

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Thinking about tattoo artist!sukuna who rarely tattoos newbies since he doesn’t have the patience to deal with their fear, but who decides to make an exception the moment he lays eyes on you.

He approaches you and pretends to be surprised when you tell him that you’ve never got a tattoo before, as if everything about you didn’t already give it away. The arms and chest are clean, and your legs? The only thing covering them is a miniskirt that’s barely covering your ass.

You look confident but he knows better, easily noticing the small (or not that small) details, from the nervous bite of your lip to the hardened nipples that are piercing through the fishnet crop top you wear. Considering that it is hot enough in the studio, there could be only two reasons for that, but he’s sure he can solve both.

Tattoo artist!sukuna is kind enough to help you decide on a tattoo and even helps you pick where you want to make it, suggesting that the best possible location for it would be your thigh<3

It’s no surprise to him when you stop him the moment you hear the buzz of the tattoo gun and see him getting ready to start. You’re tense and when simply telling you to relax doesn’t work, he comes with a suggestion.

So there you are, on your knees for a man you barely know, taking his whole length inside your mouth, twisting and swirling your tongue around it, completely cock drunk after seeing the size of it. Tattoo artist!sukuna has the kind of dick that makes your jaw hurt. He knows he’s big but seeing you struggle to breathe just boosts his ego past the limits.

He grabs a hold of your hair and starts thrusting, going at full speed with the only intention of emptying his balls down your throat. Your throat is divine, so thigh, squeezing around his cock and making him moan. Your mascara dripping from all the tears when he keeps your head still, making your eyes roll back the moment he comes deep down your throat.

“Swallowed it all like a good girl huh?”

Not getting a chance to recover, he starts fucking you against the mirror, the glass fogging from his heavy breathing as you desperately moan into his chest, holding onto his shirt and sobbing in utter bliss knowing that this is the best and fattest dick you’ve ever had.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head for a second time when he lifts one of your legs up and starts thrusting at an even higher speed, filling the room with nasty, wet sounds made by your abused pussy that soon after creams on his cock after swallowing all of his cum in. At the end of it all he grabs your face with one of his hands, giving you the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever gotten in your entire life, a string of saliva connecting your lips once he pulls away.

“You really took it all, like a good little slut”

Finishing the tattoo was an easy job for him after that since your mind was focused on what just happened and not on the slight stings caused by the tattoo gun's needles.

He offered you a big discount, grinning when you asked if you can come get another tattoo the next week.

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mikomikumi · 6 months

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Guys I was on the plane and got bored. I wrote y’all some milkman smut~

Plz enjoy

Francis mosses x reader SMUT

Warnings; Penetration (PinV), orgasm denial, dom! Francis. sub! Reader. afab! Reader.

————————————————————————

This day couldn’t be any more boring than it already is. The Doorman is slumped in their seat, bored out of their mind.

They heard footsteps coming up to the window. It appears to be Francis Mosses. “Mmm, hello”. The usual greeting. Nothing seems off. “ID and Entry card please?”, asks the Doorman. Francis slips the paper under.

Appearance? Normal

Description? On point.

ID? One number is off.

“Hmm, your ID doesn’t fully match the correct one we have here.” The doppelgänger that stood in front of him started to panic. “I-I think you just need to re-read it. That’s m-my ID.” Unusual, he never speaks this much. “I saw your roommate Y/N come home earlier. Let me just give your room a call”. The doorman grabs the rotary phone and rings up Francis’s room, in hopes either you or the real Francis would answer.

The day was about to get just a little less boring.

————————————————————————

“Ngh~ fuck, so tight~” Francis moaned. The second you had come home from the bakery, Francis snuck up behind you and tried to strip you. He had been so horny all day. His one day off and you had to go to work. The milkman needed to give someone his milk~

“Take it, Y/N. Please~ Let me fill you with my milk~ Francis moaned and begged. He pounded your pussy like it was his last day on earth. He had filled you with cream about 3 times already. Yet his cock stayed hard, throbbing for more. He gripped your plush thigh, with the other hand on your chin. Francis's tongue fucked your mouth with passion. “Mmh~ good girl”.

Your tight little cunt didn’t mind. Your legs stayed open and welcome for each thrust of his hips, for each slap of his balls against your ass. You loved him. The way he fucked you gave you life. “Francis~”, you moaned his name for the hundredth time that day. You rubbed your clit as you were on the edge of another climax. It drove his cock wild. It throbbed as he was about to cum again-

“Ring ring!” The rotary phone on the bedside locker buzzed. You reached your hand over to it when all of a sudden it was pinned to the bed. “Don’t, we’re busy”. Francis demanded, getting ready to thrust inside you again. “Francis, if they let a doppelgänger in, the building is dead!” You argued. This annoyed the milkman. He let go of your wrist. “Mmm…Fine, but make it quick. I still have more cum to pump you full with”.

Your body turns away from the milkman. His cock leaves your hole as you pick up the phone. Francis, despite the orgasm denial, had an idea. He wasn’t a huge fan of that doorman, always looking at his Y/N. Maybe he could put him in their place.

“Hello? Ah hi there Mx. Doorma-ah!”. The milkman cheekily slapped your thigh, and your body shivered. “S-sorry. Yes I’m in my apartment. My roomma-”. Francis was sick of you calling him his ‘roommate’ instead of boyfriend. The only reason you did was that it was muscle memory. Francis grabbed the phone from your hand. He used his other hand to pin you down and he started thrusting himself back into you. You let out a scream, which you quickly muffled with your hand along with the other moans.

“Mmm…yes. I’m in my apartment with Y/N”. The clapping of skin could be heard in the background. “Is that all?” The milkman asked. He pounded into you faster, as payback for not letting him finish earlier. “…yes…”. The doorman eventually answered. Francis almost threw the phone back down into its place before gripping both your thighs tight. “Now, you owe me”. He shows no mercy, holds your thighs up and full-on pounds your pussy in.

“You’re…you’re gonna take my cum inside again?…right Y/N?…you’re gonna be a good girl and cum on this cock…?”. You know it’s not a question. It’s a demand.

“Yes Francis….fuuuck~”. Your eyes roll to the back of your head while you release yourself for the 4th time today. Your body sinks into the cum-soaked sheets as you let your boyfriend take over.

“Cumming…fucking…take it” he lets out a massive groan, this cock throbs and twitches as white ropes spew into your cunt. “Yeah…good girl”. Francis slowly continued to thrust, helping ride out his and your orgasm. He almost collapses on top of you when he finishes. He lies on your chest, his cock still buried deep in your womb as he snuggles.

“Always a cuddle bug after sex” You stroked his head and placed a kiss on his forehead. Francis is now completely drained. His baggy eyes stare into yours. “So…tired…”…the milkman mumbles, drifting into a deep slumber. You decide to join him, closing your eyes. You couldn’t ask for a better way to sleep other than having your boyfriend in your arms.

————————————————————————

The Doorman stares at the phone in mortified awe after the real Francis hangs up. They turn to look at the doppelgänger, who is now sweating profusely. “Sorry buddy, you ain’t coming in”. The doorman lifts the clear cover of the red button and pushes it.

#francis mosses #the shit i would let this man do to me #that’s not my neighbor #smut

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peachysunrize · 2 months

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[TANGERINE DREAMS]

summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

word count: 5.2k+

warnings: angst & fluff! English isn’t my first language<3

a/n: loviessssss welcome to the first chap of my summer romance! I hope you love this as much as I do when I’m writing it! Reblogs & comments are most appreciated🥹🍊 and very special thank you to @namelesslosers for betaing this for me<33🩷

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

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Chapter 1: runaway bride

He shouldn’t be stressed, should he?

Everything is in the right place; groomsmen are standing behind him while fixing each other’s coats and reassuring him, bridesmaids are in front of him as they talk and giggle, the guests are whispering and the priest is tapping his fingers on his watch.

Alys is a few minutes late, but it’s just a few minutes, there’s nothing to worry about. Aemond knows she must be even more stressed than he is. It’s their big day after all and naturally, the bride is the more anxious one. Surely that’s true, right? But why are his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his coat uncontrollably, why is rocking on the ball of his feet? He can’t be that nervous.

He looks around, finding his mum biting her nails. She searches around the room, looking for someone, anyone, to come and tell her about her bride-to-be’s whereabouts. His eye finds Helaena, watching as she caresses the flower petals before meeting his gaze, smiling broadly at him. He smiles back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes to convince her he’s doing alright. He is alright, just a tad bit too stressed for everyone’s liking, especially Helaena who can sense his nerves buzzing with excitement and fear.

The church Alicent chose for his wedding has been used by Targaryens for years and passed on for generations. The walls covered in royalty tapestries of mythical Valyrian gods have seen many weddings and unions, and now, they will see his wedding.

He sighs, wanting to run his fingers through his hair but remembering his hair is in a low bun and his Mum would kill him if he ruined his perfectly done hair. He sighs again, looking up at the ceiling, his brow furrowing in worry.

What is taking her so long? She should have been here ten minutes ago.

Aemond turns around and looks at Daeron, their eyes meeting for a brief second before his younger brother nods and walks to the corner of the hall before slipping out the door without any hesitation.

“Don’t worry, brother, she’ll come around,” Aegon says, his breath stinking with the three glasses of champagne he’s had from the bar in the garden attached to the church grounds, where they will host the party.

“This isn’t another simple date she can be late to. This is our wedding, Aegon!” He exhales shakily, his voice barely above whispering.

He knows he is right, even Aegon knows he is right, but there is little they both can do. They need to wait for her to show up eventually. She will, won’t she? Of course she will, it was Alys who was too eager to marry, start a family, and take a step towards their shared dreams. She reassured him of his hesitation, and he agreed to do this with a heart full of love.

“Sir,” the priest calls him, “I’m needed for another ceremony in about an hour and the ride there will take a long—“

“She will come,” Aemond’s response is more of a reassurance to him than the priest, “you must have seen this more than us, Sir, the bride always shows up.”

“Yes, yes, my apologies,” the man nods his head, going back to do whatever he was doing before.

With every second that passes and Alys doesn’t show up he grows more restless, beads of sweat forming on his hairline. Aemond is a closed-up person, not really used to showing his feelings and emotions outwardly, but now, he is tapping his foot on the ground while his eye swipes at the guests, finding his half-sister’s family behind his Mum — he averts his eye quickly. The last thing he needs is to get furious over his sister’s goblins.

“What is taking her so long?” He hears someone say from the guests, even their stupid gossip is not enough to distract them from how late the bride is. He is growing desperate at this point, the muscles in his shin are growing tired with how fast he is tapping his foot on the floor, his fingers can no longer fidget with his coat instead his nails are digging into his sweaty palm.

Please, please, Alys, just open this door… He thinks to himself before spotting Daeron sneaking inside the hall with you on your toe. He watches as the two of you make your way toward Helaena, whispering something in her ear before she and Daeron leap out of the hall in a second, catching everyone’s attention.

The hall grows noisier, and the hushed whispers turn into loud accusations and questions; “Where is the bride?”

“I have always known she was problematic!”

“Eight years older? How scandalous!”

“How did Viserys Targaryen let his son marry her?”

“I have heard she has quite the reputation with men, always after their money—“

Now his hands are shaking, he hides them by locking them behind his back before he looks in front of him, trying to mask out the noise. Aemond catches your eye, watching as you give him a reassuring smile before taking slow steps towards him.

“Hey you.”

“Hey…” he replies as best as he can without his voice breaking, “you look beautiful.”

“So do you, little nerd!” You reach to fix his bowtie, trying to calm him down a bit, “not so little though, right? You’re getting married before me!”

“Yeah, I’m younger and I beat you to it,” he chuckles a little, silently thanking you for keeping a leash on his nerves.

It’s always been like this since the two of you remember. Growing up close to the Targaryens as Helaena’s kindergarten friend until now, you have grown to know each of the siblings like the back of your hand, especially Aemond who was a constant presence in your games with Helaena since he could walk — sometimes it feels like you are his best friend and not Helaena’s with how attentive you are to him. As much as he wishes for that to be true, he knows the bond you share with his sister is something so precious and special that no one can break it.

“Just so you wait, Aemond, you won’t be invited to my wedding when the time comes!” You tease him, trying to lighten his mood, reaching to fix a few strands of hair that have fallen out of his bun.

“That’s not fair—“

Everyone falls silent when the door is pushed open, revealing a heaving Daeron and a very anxious Helaena. You both turn around to look at the siblings, meeting them halfway with Aegon following you closely.

“We…” Helaena starts, but she can’t talk. Something bad must have happened for her to be so speechless.

“What?” You ask gently, resting your hand on her shoulders in hopes of trying to get her to talk.

“We found Alys,” Daeron looks at Aemond with an unreadable expression, “but she…”

“Spit it out for fuck sake!” Aegon whispers through gritted teeth, his hand shoved in his pockets as he waits for Daeron to finish his sentence.

“She doesn’t want to get married,” Helaena blurts out, swallowing the lump in her throat as she looks at Aemond with sad sympathetic eyes.

“Hel, this is insane. Did she say it herself—“ you say, frowning slightly.

“Criston is holding her back from running away. There’s a car parked outside, I think—“

Aemond can’t listen to these words anymore, so he pushes past his siblings and you, jogging out of the church towards the attached garden, finding Cole and Alys tangled in a messy fight as she tries to escape from his grasp.

“Alys!” He yells her name, making the couple freeze, but in a second, she knees Cole in his stomach and runs past him, her long white dress drags across the grass as she bolts out of the gates too fast for Aemond to be able to catch up, and once he does, he watches the car leave.

The noises around him vanish, and all he can hear is the thumping of his pulse in his ears, and the sharp breaths he takes. The world around him seems to disappear, and his good eye follows the path the car is taking, his fingers are tingling, his chest rising and falling rapidly while he tries to regain his grip on himself.

He sighs, finally his senses coming back as he looks around him, finding you, his Mum, and his siblings running towards him. Aemond doesn’t wish to talk to anyone, he wants to stay invisible, for the world to swallow him whole and keep him away from the humiliation that is about to be unleashed on him.

“Darling—“

“Aemond—“

The group reaches him, Alicent cups his face in her warm hands as she looks at him with tears stinging her eyes. Aemond can see how devastated she is about him, how she desperately wants to say something and ease his pain but the words are lost in the air when she opens her mouth to utter them.

He reaches and holds her wrists gently, pressing her palms against his cheeks as they silently communicate their emotions — no words need to be said, they understand, Alicent understands his pain, and he knows that she would take it away if she could.

“We should tell the guests,” Aemond says before letting go of his Mum’s hands, striding past his siblings and you towards the salon attached to the church, finding many of the guests already there — his half-sister and her kids with a few other relatives.

He knows they are waiting to hear more of this mess just to taunt him and make his day worse. Everyone knows they are looking for one mistake from him and his family to ruin their reputation, and now, with Aemond Targaryen’s runaway bride, they must be ecstatic.

“What happened, nephew? We thought we were invited for a traditional wedding, but all we see is a lonely groom—“

The glare Aemond gives his uncle and nephews is enough for them to shut up. He tries to put up a strong front, head held high and hands folded behind his back, but if you squint you can see how his resolve is crumbling with each second that he spends in their presence.

He decides not to give in to their silly games and walks towards the bar before he snatches the pack of cigarettes on the stool, leaving the room without saying a word. His mind is foggy as he tries to walk past everyone, he is handling many things at the same time but the bitter and heavy feeling in his chest crushes his strength to process it.

The sound of chatter and gossip fades away as he walks through the back garden of the church; a few little benches and a fountain in the corner hidden from the eyes of the guests with a wisteria tree.

This area could have made a romantic core memory for Aemond and Alys if only things had gone differently…

With a deep sigh, he sits on the ground, his back against the fountain as he fiddles with his bow tie, undoing the first few buttons of his shirt, his coat falling on the ground next to him. He opens the pack of cigarettes, pulling one out before he reaches in his pants for a lighter — something he is sure you’d scold him for as you always do, teasing him lightheartedly about his obsession with lighters.

When he inhales the smoke, his mind gets clearer, and he can think a little better, but he is not sure if he would really like to do so. His ex-fiancé left him just a few minutes ago, and his mind fills with dreadful thoughts.

Was it him?

Was he too young for her? Too immature?

Did she change her mind because she loved someone else?

Was he too strict and selfish?

Was it really him who brought this on himself? On his family?

He blows out the smoke, resting his elbow on his knee as he reaches to untie his bun, his hair falling freely around his shoulders while the droplets of water land on the soft silver strands from the fountain.

It is the beginning of the summer, the spring chill of the weather is replaced with an increasing heat, the birds chipper and he can see the peachy hue of sunset in the sky from between the leaves of the tree.

He feels numb, a dull ache in his chest blooming as the reality hits him. Aemond takes another drag of his cigarette, throwing his head back, and letting his hair fall inside the water fountain. He sniffs, closing his eye to keep his tears from flowing down, the storm of his thoughts wrecking his mind once again.

He loves her, she was his everything from the start — his first kiss, first girlfriend, first fight. Alys was his everything, and now, she is nothing but a memory, a memory he wishes to wipe away quickly.

How can you claim to love someone and leave them without any remorse?

There is guilt and sadness, but mostly it’s the doubt and self-hatred that makes him want to sob. Many questions are swirling in his head about how he is the reason she has left. Maybe she was right about leaving him, no one would like to be the wife of a man who deals with heavy pain daily.

He takes another drag, relishing in the feeling of the soft evening breeze that kisses his heated skin, cooling him down a little. The smell of smoke grounds him in this world, making him forget about the mess that is probably happening in the church. He is sure his siblings and Mum are trying their best to talk to Alys’ relatives and other guests, explaining the situation in a hurry.

“Your suite must have cost thousands,” you say casually, announcing your presence as you walk with your long dress in hand, careful with how uneasy your heels feel on the soft grass, making your way to where he is sitting.

“Nothing compared to the decorations she ordered,” he scoffs, putting out his cigarette on the edge of the stone of the fountain before he straightens his neck and looks at you.

“Yeah, I saw them,” you sigh, fisting your skirt before sitting next to him, shoulders touching subtly, “she has a very… interesting taste. Who’d thought a lawyer would be into witchcraft?”

“She likes things no one can understand,” he says, gazing up at the wisteria tree, “I also paid for the dress you are getting wet grass stains on—“

“That was irrelevant because Hel bought it for me! She knew how much of an ass you’d be about it,” you chuckle a little, watching as a ghost of a smile finds its way to his face before it falters and his eye drops to the grass, the smile no longer visible.

“Yeah, maybe that’s why Alys left,” he scoffs in disbelief again, shaking his head a little as he thinks of every bad trait he has, considering all of them could be the reason she decided she was better off without him.

“Her loss,” you say softly, “you are too funny, little nerd, even for someone who can be a stuck-up ass sometimes.”

“You are lucky my sister loved you enough to keep you around because I’d get rid of you the second I could,” he mumbles, huffing out a small laugh when you punch his biceps playfully.

“That’s not nice, Aemond!” You laugh together, rubbing the place where you hit him, “You love me too, that’s why you will never get tired of me,” saying this, you can see his shoulder tensing — love, what a weird word to use.

Does he love you? Does he even love anyone?

Maybe he does, but it wasn’t enough to keep his fiance with him.

Maybe his love was too much for Alys to bear.

“How did you find me?” He asks, his voice hoarse and thick, “I was trying to be invisible.”

“Give me that—“ you grab the pack of cigarettes from him, pulling one out and waiting for Aemond to light it for you. You inhale a puff, handing it back to him before looking up at the sky, “do you remember when you’d steal my books and go into your old stables to read?”

“I do, no one could find me,” he takes a drag of the cigarette, blowing out the smoke before he talks, “but you did.”

“I believed you would do it because you wanted someone to look for you,” you look at him with soft eyes, “and I always did. Your siblings had no idea where you would go, but I knew you like the back of my hand. Or maybe I just wanted my book back!”

He matches your smile, but you can see the pain in his eye, this is not a time to beat around the bush. He wishes to let it out — whatever it is. Perhaps it’s anger, frustration, betrayal, maybe it’s his ultimate desire to vanish into thin air to save himself from the press and humiliation that he’ll be going through.

“What did I do wrong?” He asks, and you must be able to see the agony he is in, he is in grave distress, and the cloud of doubt is causing a tornado in his head that will kill the remaining of his confidence, “did I not give her enough love, show her how much I wanted her?”

“You gave her your heart, something you would never do for someone you didn’t like,” you reach and squeeze his shoulder, “you did your best, gave her your everything. We all saw how devoted you were, it is not your fault.”

“Then why? Why?!” He asks desperately, looking at you with his wide teary eye, the ocean blue orb staring into your soul with need, “I thought I was everything she wanted, she said it herself—“ he looks away before he can cry, throwing his head back to stop the tears from falling, putting the cigarette between his thin lips.

“You are more than enough, Aemond—“

“She wasn’t worth it, was she?” He cuts you off, “she took me for granted,” he sounds so little, so fragile, and he feels so.

“You loved her! I’m sure, Aemond, that your love for her was so beautiful and precious, it was Alys who couldn’t be better.”

“She was the one who wanted to get married as soon as possible…” he whispers, closing his eye as he talks with the cigarette between his lips, “even Aegon made fun of me for not saying no to her, he said I needed to grow up and not give in to her whims.”

“Aegon is a little shit, he can’t even keep one girl in a one-month relationship. He should be the last person on earth to get advice from,” You nudge his shoulder, grab the cigarette, and pull it away from his lips, “loving your partner is not a crime. So what? You liked spoiling her, did you not?”

“Yeah, I did…” he says, looking back down at his fingers rubbing over the fabric of his pants, “Alys used to tell me I was a kid too, that I needed to grow up or else I wouldn’t be a good husband.”

“Oh, Aemond…”

He averts his gaze towards you, tears brimming in his eye, “I did everything I could,” he is helpless, the gut-wrenching feeling is eating him alive.

“Don’t bottle it up, little nerd,” you reach and push a few strands of his hair behind his ear, “you can cry, I’m here.”

And he does; he rests his head on your shoulder and starts sobbing quietly, tears falling on his scarred cheek.

“I’m here,” you whisper, wrapping your arm around his shoulders, making him feel safe enough to pour his emotions out.

Aemond has been avoiding the situation as best as he can; ignoring his grandfather’s calls, not leaving the house for a few weeks, and trying to get a hold on his life again.

All his efforts are in vain.

He still lives in the same apartment in Rosby he and Alys bought a few months ago, their photos and pictures hanging on the walls, the bed they used to sleep on together, their bathroom, their kitchen — everything feels like an old movie reel, a twilight zone he doesn’t know if he likes to leave or embrace and drown in it.

Aemond has been keeping contact with his siblings throughout the past week, refusing their help to come and live with him for a while, saying he wanted some time alone to figure out what he wished to do from then on.

The media is filled with pictures of him standing outside the garden catching the car speeding away — how the paparazzi get there? No one knows but the fingers are pointed at his half-sister and uncle. The pictures are all over the news and the internet, mainly using his Targaryen name to drag him into the dirt.

He plops down on the couch, unlocking his phone only to be greeted with thousands of texts from his Mum and Daeron, begging him to come home and stay the summer with them in Targaryen residency. It’s not an idea he hasn’t entertained before, in fact, he would like to go back home and take some time off for himself. So he texts Alicent and tells her he’ll move in with them for a while until he is better and ready to come back to this forsaken apartment.

He starts packing a few hours later, dirty clothes thrown into the washing machine while he sits on the floor with a huge suitcase ready to be filled. Suddenly his phone starts ringing, startling him greatly. He reaches for the phone on the bed, looking at the screen to see who’s calling him. You. Your name lights up his phone, making him smile a little, thinking probably the word has spread like wildfire.

“Hey,”

“Hey yourself, little nerd!” You say enthusiastically, “heard you wanna move back into your Mum’s place.”

“Hmm, yeah,” he sighs, securing the phone between his ear and shoulder as he talks to you, “a change would be nice, especially for the summer.”

“Then you’re in luck!” You reply, “Hel asked me to come and spend the summer at the mansion too!” he chuckles when he hears you groaning over who knows what before continuing, “Anyway, I’ll come to your place whenever you want so I can help you pack whatever you’d like to take there and then drive to King’s Landing.”

“Sounds great, I really appreciate the offer,” he agrees, grabbing the phone as soon as the washing machine stops, “I’d like it if you could take some time and come here tomorrow?”

“Of course, just send me the location, alright? The sooner we pack, the sooner we can have some of Aegon’s magnificent cocktails!”

“Urgh, that loser will be home too?” He feigns a groan, breaking character when he hears your snort.

“Stop being mean to him, he makes the best Sex on the Beach!” You both chuckle, knowing you are right, Aegon does make the best cocktails known to humankind, “We’ll have fun there, and I’ve missed Vhagar so much!”

“I missed her too,” Aemond says fondly, “thank you again for helping me out, I wouldn’t have reached out if you didn’t call me.”

“Oh I know, that’s why I called. You can always count on me! Anyway, I’ll come tomorrow and help you pack.”

“Alright, thank you, I’ll text you the address,” Aemond says, grabbing the basket to empty the wet clothes from the washing machine.

“See you tomorrow, Little nerd!”

“You should have told me you have a Chevy Camaro, I doubt we can fit anything in this little car!” you hug and greet him when he opens the door, “I brought my things too if it’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, sure, the sooner we pack, the sooner we can leave!” He replies, grabbing your suitcase’s handle, and leading you inside his apartment, “Don’t worry, my car has carried much larger things. This is nothing.”

“Whatever you say! Now— woah, you are packed already?” You look around the room, a few boxes neatly put on top of each other and labeled, one backpack and another half-filled suitcase on the floor.

“I just need some help with my clothes and whether I should…” he points at the framed photos on the walls, photos of him and Alys, “throw them out or send them to her with her belongings.”

“Well, I think you should give it some time before you do something you might regret,” you squeeze his shoulder lightly, “it seems we can go tonight, right? You don’t have many things left to pack.”

“Yeah, just a few clothes! You can get the snack while I put them in the suitcase—“

“No, no, lemme fold your clothes! You should start putting the boxes away, I’ll get everything ready,” you pat him on the chest, walking towards his bedroom to fold his clothes for him.

He nods silently and thanks you before he grabs the boxes and leaves the apartment. You both work quickly, taking a break and having tea together, you ask about how he’s holding up, and he dismisses your questions as best as he can, not really wishing to entertain the thoughts that’ll disturb him.

“Aemond, do you want to bring your books too?” You ask him, groaning as you drop the heavy box on his bed, “because I doubt we’ll have enough space to take all of these with us to King’s Landing.”

“Just those that are already tucked away!” He yells from the kitchen, finishing cooking for you, “We’ll finish it after dinner, c’mon.”

“Okay,” you sigh tiredly, not really expecting the packing to drag on for so long. After all, he said he only needed a few clothes, not half of his wardrobe with his expensive watches and sunglasses.

“I think we have packed enough for at least ten spontaneous parties Aegon will be throwing this summer,” you mutter, sitting behind the island in the kitchen.

“I doubt he’d let an occasion like my birthday let go so easily now that I’m back home,” Aemond shrugs, handing you a plate, “he mostly ignores the occasion but I’m sure he and Mum will do something, and make a huge deal out of it. That’s why I need to be prepared.”

“Well, it’s the first birthday in a while that I’m attending too so it better be something good!” You tease him, thanking him for the delicious meal.

“It will be, or at least Mum’s plans will be great. She has Daeron as her non-assigned assistant now that I’m gone and they make quite the duo. They always host the best gatherings together.”

“Alicent is a perfectionist, of course, she’ll be the best person to throw a birthday party for you,” you agree with him, “but you can’t deny that Aegon’s parties are always better! He’s reckless, and the drinks are the best.”

“Only the best for the oldest Targaryen son, right?” He sighs again, looking down at his plate, “Sorry, it slipped my tongue, I shouldn’t have said it.”

“It’s okay,” you reach and rub his forearm, “you’re dealing with lots of things now, I understand, we all do.”

“I hope I don’t ruin your summer with us with my stupid sappy attitude,” Aemond jokes — or at least tries to.

“Sappy or not, you are my best friend’s brother, and I watched you grow up! There is nothing you can do to make my time with you miserable,” you smile at him softly, finishing your plate before you both stand up to get ready and leave, “I’ll take care of the dishes, you go close your suitcase and we take whatever’s left to your car.”

Time passes quickly and you find yourself getting inside Aemond’s car later than you expected. He makes sure everything is packed and safe both in the apartment and in the trunk before he gets inside the passenger seat — he can’t drive at night because of his eyesight so you’ll drive to King’s Landing. It’s not a long ride fortunately; four hours by car and you’ll be there in no time.

Aemond, despite trying to keep up with the conversation, falls asleep halfway through the road, and you let him take a nap before you arrive there and get bombarded by questions left and right.

When you pull in front of the entrance gates, Cole is already waiting for you, ready to take your bags out and park the car even though someone else could be doing it.

“Hi, Cole,” Aemond greets him with a thick voice, rubbing his sleepy eye before he gives Criston a halfway hug, patting his back.

You shut down the engine, get out of the car, and greet Cole after you hand him the remote, following Aemond in the path leading to the entrance door with a few boxes in hand as you help him take a few of his belongings inside the house.

Alicent is already waiting in front of the door anxiously, slowly rubbing her throat and neck as she waits for Aemond to reach her before she brings him in a tight embrace, not minding the sharp points of the boxes digging in her sides — just having her son with her is enough to remedy all of her pain.

“My darling,” she tears up a little, caressing his hair and kissing his cheek, “I’m so happy you decided to come home, I missed you so much.” “I missed you too, Mother,” he pulls back a little to put the boxes down and hug her completely, resting his head on top of hers as she wraps her arms around him.

Everyone is interrupted when a series of barks echo in the house, and in a second, a huge fluffy black Chow Chow jumps on Aemond, licking his face happily. Vhagar, oh, how he missed his old lady. He chuckles and scratches behind her ears, ignoring all the stares as he reunites with her.

“Babyyyyyyy!” Helaena squeals before she runs towards you to help you with Aemond’s things, kissing you and giving you a side hug, “Thank you for agreeing to come! I’m sure we’ll have lots of fun together.”

“Thank you for having me, lovey!”

“I’m so thankful you helped him, darling,” Alicent pulls away from the pair nearly lying on the floor while one of them is having his face licked, her hand caressing your back as she draws you in her arms as well, “Thank you for bringing home, I’m in debt to you—”

“Oh, no, it was nothing!” You look at her before giving Aemond and Vhagar a cheeky smile, “It was the least I could do, I’m glad I could help.”

“Come, come! You must be tired, your rooms are ready. Cole will take your bags,” she says, leading the way with Aemond who has his free arm wrapped around Daeron, and Vhagar jumps next to his feet while you and Helaena follow them.

“Aegon is asleep, you know him, he has big plans for this summer, especially now that Aemond can use some distraction,” she bumps her shoulder to yours, “meaning we’ll have the time of our lives!”

“Yeah,” you smile at her before looking ahead of you, catching Aemond turning around to give you a quick smile, “What a summer it’ll be.”

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #modern aemond #modern aemond targaryen #🍊dreams #aemond x you #prince aemond targaryen #hotd fanfic

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a-lexia11 · 22 days

Text

Court and Pitch

Alessia Russo x wnba!reader

Word count:Around 13k

Warning:angst, use of the word “soccer”, light homophobia.

Based on this request.

Ever since joining the Los Angeles Sparks not too long ago, your notoriety has only grown. At just 22, you’ve become one of the WNBA’s brightest stars, lighting up every court you step on.

The fans have embraced you as a basketball phenomenon, and your name is constantly buzzing in the sports world.

You’ve earned the reputation of being one of the most fierce competitors and rookie in the league. On the court, you’re known for your confidence—no, scratch that—your cockiness, and everyone loves it. It’s like you thrive on the attention.

The world sees you as this larger-than-life figure, strutting across the hardwood as if you own every inch of it. And to be fair, you kind of do.

There’s no shot you don’t believe you can make, no defender you think you can’t break down. When you're on the floor, there’s an undeniable swagger in your step, a smirk that lets everyone know you’re in charge.

Take tonight’s game, for example. The arena is packed, fans decked out in purple and gold, chanting your name as the clock ticks down. The Sparks are up by ten, but you're far from done making a statement.

“Hey, get ready to watch some magic,” you say to Cameron, one of your teammates and friends during a time-out, grinning as you catch your breath.

“Y/N, you know they hate it when you talk like that, right?” Cameron laughs, shaking her head.

You shrug with a playful smirk. “They hate it because they know it’s true.”

As you jog back onto the court, the crowd roars louder, and you can feel their eyes on you, expecting something spectacular.

With the ball in hand, you dribble up the court, staring down the defender in front of you. She’s been hounding you all game, but you can tell she’s losing steam.

“Is that all you got?” you tease, smirking as you cross the ball from one hand to the other. “This is about to get embarrassing for you.”

Without waiting for a response, you hit her with a quick crossover, your speed catching her off guard. You step back behind the three-point line, and with a fluid motion, you launch the shot. The crowd holds its breath.

Swish.

The crowd erupts, and you turn toward them, blowing a kiss with a wink as you jog back down the court. The other team calls for a timeout, clearly rattled, but you just laugh as you high-five your teammates.

One of your opponents walks by, shaking her head. “You’re too cocky for your own good.”

You flash her a grin. “Confidence, baby. You should try it sometime.”

This is what everyone sees—the confident, cocky Y/N who lights up the court and plays like she has something to prove.

The fans feed off your energy, loving every second of your fearless attitude. You know you’re good, and you don’t shy away from letting everyone know it.

You strut back to your bench with determination, pointing up at a section of fans holding signs with your name on them.

But off the court? That’s a whole different story. You’re not the larger-than-life, trash-talking superstar when the final whistle blows.

Away from the bright lights and roaring crowds, you’re quiet, reserved, and—if you’re being honest—kind of shy. But no one sees that. Everyone just assumes you’re as outgoing in real life as you are on the court.

Only a handful of people know the real Y/N. Your teammates, your family, and your close friends know that behind all the cockiness and confidence, you’re just someone who wants to be understood for who you are, not for the fame you’ve gained.

But for now, you play your part. “Good game,” you say with a grin after the final buzzer, slapping hands with the opposing team.

They know it’s all in the spirit of competition, and they walk away with smiles despite the loss.

As you head off the court, the media rushes to you, microphones and cameras shoved in your face. You flash your signature smile, the one everyone expects, and prepare to play your role once again.

——

“Do I really have to go?” you asked, frustration seeping into your tone as you adjusted your outfit for the sports event in London tonight.

“Yes, you do,” Emma snapped, not even looking up from her phone. “And stop making this harder than it needs to be. We need to maintain your image.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m just not sure why I have to go to every single event. I’d rather stay home and relax.”

Emma sighed, finally glancing up at you. “Because it’s part of the job. You’re not just a player; you’re a brand. And brands need to be seen. Now, can you please smile and pose for these photos? We need content for social media.”

She thrust her phone at you, expecting you to strike a pose. You forced a smile, trying to ignore the growing frustration in your chest. “Do you ever think about what I want? I mean, I’m tired of all this. It’s like I’m just a product.”

Emma’s expression hardened. “This is part of the deal. You signed up for this. Your career depends on it. You know how much is riding on maintaining this image.”

“I get that,” you said, “but I’m not just a brand. I’m a person. And right now, it feels like I’m being suffocated by all this.”

Emma’s eyes narrowed as she fixed the angle of her phone. “Well, we can’t afford to let your personal issues affect your public image. People expect a certain persona from you, and it’s my job to make sure that’s what they get.”

“Even if it means I have to keep hiding who I really am?” you challenged.

Emma’s gaze was cold. “Yes, even if it means that. It’s about protecting your career, not your personal comfort. We have to think long-term here.”

You felt a pang of frustration and sadness. “But why does it have to be like this? Why can’t I just be myself?”

Emma didn’t miss a beat. “Because being yourself isn’t always marketable. And right now, we need to focus on what sells. Just play your part tonight, and we’ll get through this.”

You sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing further. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

Emma nodded, her expression softening slightly. “Good. I’ll make sure to get some great shots. And remember, just smile and engage with the fans. That’s what they want to see.”

As you forced a smile for the camera, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped in a role that wasn’t truly yours. The pressure to conform was weighing heavily on you, and the freedom to be yourself felt more elusive than ever.

Upon arriving at the event, you stick close to your teammates, hoping to avoid conversations with strangers. The room is buzzing with athletes, journalists, and influencers, making it feel overwhelming.

You long for the quiet comfort of your LA apartment, where you can be yourself without the weight of expectations pressing down on you.

Standing by the bar and absently swirling your drink, you notice someone approaching. Tall, blonde, and instantly recognizable—it’s Alessia Russo, the star of Arsenal’s women’s football team. You’ve seen her play and know she’s incredible. But why is she coming toward you?

“Hey, Y/N, right?” Alessia smiles warmly, her tone casual and friendly. You feel a surge of nerves.

“Um…Yeah…it’s me Y/N, um… hi,” you stuttered, and you mentally slapped yourself for being so awkward.

The confidence you project on the court seems to vanish in this unfamiliar setting.

Alessia’s eyes light up with curiosity. “I’m Alessia. I’ve heard so much about you. I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m a big fan.”

You shift uncomfortably, feeling the weight of her gaze. “Um….yes I heard about you too and thanks… I guess,” you reply, trying to muster a smile but feeling awkward.

You don’t typically open up easily, especially not to strangers who seem to be interested in you because of your fame.

Alessia looks at you with a hint of amusement. “I didn’t expect you to be so shy. On TV, you’re so confident and fierce.”

You raise an eyebrow, puzzled. “What- um.. What do you mean?”

“Well,” Alessia begins, leaning casually against the bar, “you seem more down-to-earth than what the media portrays. It’s refreshing to see someone so genuine. I get it, though. People have certain expectations of you, right?”

You find yourself relaxing slightly. She’s striking a chord. “Yeah, people definitely have expectations. Sometimes it feels like I’m just a product, not a person.”

Alessia’s smile widens. “I can imagine. It must be exhausting always being in the spotlight. I’m glad we’re having this chance to talk. You seem really different from how you’re presented in the media.”

As you start to open up, you realize Alessia isn’t just another fan; she’s actually interested in who you are beyond the public persona.

The conversation flows more easily, touching on sports, hobbies, and personal experiences. You find yourself laughing and sharing stories you usually keep to yourself.

Alessia asks about your life in LA and your favorite things to do when you’re not on the court. “What do you do to unwind after a tough game?” she inquires, genuinely interested.

“I usually just stay in,” you say, a bit hesitant. “Watch movies or read. I’m not really into the whole party scene.”

Alessia nods, understanding. “Me neither, honestly. I’d rather relax at home than deal with the chaos of events like this.”

The more you talk, the more at ease you feel. Alessia’s genuine interest and easygoing nature make it easier for you to let your guard down. You start to enjoy the conversation and find yourself opening up more than you anticipated.

As the evening progresses and the event starts winding down, Alessia leans closer. “I really enjoyed talking to you tonight. I’d love to stay in touch.”

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you’re ready to let someone new into your life. But there’s something about Alessia’s kindness and sincerity that makes you want to take a chance. You hand her your phone, and she grins as she types in her number.

“Text me anytime,” she says with a twinkle in her eye. “I’d love to continue our conversation.”

You smile, feeling a mix of shyness and excitement. “Yeah, I will. Thanks for making tonight less overwhelming.”

As you watch Alessia walk away, you feel a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, you’ve found someone who understands you beyond the facade.

——

You did end up texting Alessia the next day—or more accurately, Cameron did it for you. After you told her you’d exchanged numbers with Alessia Russo, she immediately raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“So… are you going to text her?” she asked, lounging on the couch of your hotel room with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do it” you mumbled, fiddling with your phone but making no move to actually open the message app.

Cameron narrowed her eyes, catching on instantly. “Uh-huh, sure you will.” She stood up and stretched lazily. “Hand it over.”

You blinked. “What? No way. I’ve got it.”

She was too fast for you, though. Before you could react, Cameron swiped your phone right out of your hands and darted toward the bathroom. “Cameron, no! Give it back!”

“Trust me, Y/N! You’ll thank me later!” she called, slamming the bathroom door behind her with a loud click.

You rushed over, pounding on the door. “Cameron, I’m serious! Don’t—open the door! You can't just text her!”

Inside, you could hear her typing away furiously. “Oh, relax. I’m just being your wingwoman, you’ll appreciate it. “Hey, Alessia…” she began narrating, laughing to herself.

“Stop it! I’ll text her on my own! Cameron, come on!” You banged on the door again, but the sound of her laughing only grew louder.

After a minute, the door creaked open just a sliver, and Cameron’s hand emerged, holding your phone. “There. Done. You’re welcome,” she said smugly as she tossed the phone into your hands.

You grabbed it, scanning the message she’d sent in horror:

*Hey, Alessia! This is Y/N. Hope you’re doing well :)*

You groaned. “You didn’t—”

Cameron grinned. “Oh, I did. Now you just sit back and wait.” She flopped onto the couch again, crossing her arms like she’d just won a battle.

You stared at the phone, heart racing. Moments later, it buzzed with a new notification. Alessia had responded:

*Hey, Y/N! So glad you texted! How’s everything going?*

Cameron shot you a look that said, “I told you so.”

You sighed, a reluctant smile creeping onto your face. “Fine, you win this round.”

You spent the next hour texting with Alessia, heart racing the entire time. Every time your phone buzzed, you’d glance at Cameron, who was sitting beside you on the couch, eagerly reading over your shoulder.

She was your lifeline, occasionally feeding you responses when you didn’t know what to say.

At one point, Alessia messaged, *Are you free tonight? Maybe we could grab dinner?*

You froze, staring at the screen, unsure how to respond. Your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your chest. You turned to Cameron, who had the biggest grin on her face.

“Oh. My. God,” Cameron gasped dramatically, clutching your arm. “She just asked you on a date! Alessia Russo wants to take you out on a date!”

“It’s not a date, Cam,” you said, trying to play it cool even though your voice cracked. “She just wants to hang out, you know? As friends.” You rolled your eyes, but even you didn’t believe what you were saying.

Cameron looked at you like you had just said the dumbest thing imaginable. “Uh-huh. Sure. 'Friends.' Y/N, she didn’t ask you to go play video games or grab a quick coffee. She asked you to dinner.At night.That's a date, babe.”

You flushed, trying to brush her off. “Whatever. It’s not like that.”

Cameron nudged you hard, nearly making you drop your phone. “Oh, come on, you're so oblivious! She’s a world-class soccer player who could hang out with anyone in London, but she's choosing to spend her evening with you. She’s definitely into you.”

You blinked at her, feeling your nerves spike again. “I mean… I guess? But what if it’s not that? What if she just wants to, like, talk about sports or something?”

Cameron burst out laughing. “Y/N, literally no one asks someone they barely know to dinner to talk about sports. She’s interested. Just admit it!”

You sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to let this go. “Fine. Let’s say it is a date—what am I supposed to do? I barely even know her!”

Cameron grinned devilishly, “That’s the whole point of a date! You get to know each other. Just be yourself. Except, you know, maybe a little less awkward.”

You glared at her, feeling heat creep up your neck. “Thanks for the pep talk,” you muttered sarcastically.

Cameron waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, come on, you know what I mean. Now hurry up and reply before she thinks you're ignoring her!”

With a deep breath, you typed out your response, letting Cameron proofread it before hitting send.

*Yeah, I’m free tonight. Dinner sounds good!*you sent, feeling a knot of anxiety in your stomach.

A few moments later, your phone buzzed again. *Great! I'll pick you up around 7. Looking forward to it.*

Alessia had added a little smiley face at the end, and your heart skipped a beat.

Cameron let out a high-pitched squeal. “I can’t believe it! Y/N has a date with a hot soccer player!”

“Cameron, stop!” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “And I’m pretty sure they call it football here, not soccer.”

Cameron waved her hand dramatically. “Who cares what they call it? The point is, shy little Y/N is going on a date with a total babe! I have to tell the girls!” She started to jump up from the couch.

Your eyes widened in panic. “NO, CAM, DON’T!” You lunged for her arm, but she was already bolting toward the door, giggling like a maniac.

“You can’t stop me! This is huge news!” she shouted, running out of the room, leaving you standing there, horrified.

“Cameron!” you called after her, but it was too late. You could already picture the team group chat exploding with messages about your “date.” You sighed, rubbing your temples.

“Why do I even tell you things?” you muttered under your breath, already bracing yourself for the endless teasing you knew was coming.

——

After what felt like hours of trying on different outfits, you finally stood in front of the mirror, surrounded by half your team, who were far too invested in getting you ready. Each of them had an opinion, and no one could agree on anything.

“She has to look hot. It’s Alessia Russo, for crying out loud,” Aari said, holding up a sleek dress.

“No, she needs to be comfortable and herself,” Briana argued, handing you a more casual skirt and top combo.

“That skirt is cute,” Lex added, tilting her head in approval.

“No way, this dress is definitely cuter,” Aari shot back, shaking her head.

The entire process was exhausting, with voices overlapping and opinions clashing. You stood in the middle of it all, watching the chaos unfold, but deep down, you appreciated how much they cared.

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternal debate, the team finally came to an agreement on a simple but cute outfit.

A soft, fitted top with jeans that weren’t too flashy, paired with a jacket. It was you—comfortable but still stylish.

“Alright, let me finish up your makeup,” Aari said, gently blending in the last bit of bronzer. “You’re almost ready.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that were creeping in. As soon as Aari finished, your phone buzzed on the counter. It was a message from Alessia:

*Hey, I’m here.*

Your heart skipped a beat. “She’s here,” you announced, your voice a little shaky as you stood up quickly.

Instantly, everyone sprang into action, helping you put on your jacket and offering last-minute advice.

“Okay, Y/N, you’ve got this!” Cam grinned, holding the door for you. “Good luck on your date.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “It’s not a date,” you grumbled, tugging at your jacket nervously.

“Uh, yes, it totally is,” Briana said with a knowing smirk, while Lex added, “You’re literally going to dinner with a hot soccer player. If that’s not a date, I don’t know what is.”

Cam nodded emphatically. “Right?! I mean, it’s Alessia Russo. You’re going on a date with a superstar. How cool is that?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “You guys are impossible.”

“Just be yourself,” Aari added, giving you a soft smile as she handed you your bag. “That’s who she’s into anyway.”

“Exactly,” Briana chimed in. “No need to be nervous. You’re Y/N, the coolest, most badass rookie player in the WNBA. If she doesn’t fall for that, then she’s got bad taste.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at their supportive banter. Even though they were teasing you, their words meant a lot.

It reminded you that no matter how overwhelming the spotlight could be, you had a team of people who genuinely had your back.

As you stood by the door, the girls cheered you on with playful shouts of encouragement.

“Go get her!” Cam shouted, clapping her hands.

“Remember, confidence! But not too much of your court attitude, okay?” Aari teased with a wink.

Feeling slightly more confident, you smiled at them one last time before stepping out into the night.

Their cheers echoed down the hallway, and despite your nerves, you couldn’t help but grin as you made your way to meet Alessia.

As you stepped out of the hotel, you spotted Alessia leaning against her sleek car, scanning the area. When she saw you approaching, her face broke into a warm, welcoming smile.

“Hey,” she greeted softly, pulling you into a gentle hug.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. She looked stunning, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, and she was dressed similarly to you, wearing a puffy jacket to fend off the cold.

“Shall we go?” she asked, opening the car door for you. As she fumbled with the handle, she realized the door was locked and let out a nervous laugh. “Oops, looks like I locked the car,” she said, her cheeks flushing slightly as she tried again.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. “No worries,” you said, trying to hide your amusement. “It happens.”

Alessia finally unlocked the door with a sheepish grin. “Thanks for being patient,” she said as you slid into the car.

The drive was smooth and relaxed. With soft music playing on the radio, you chatted casually. Alessia seemed to sense your nervousness and went out of her way to make you feel comfortable, easing the tension with her friendly demeanor and occasional playful comments.

——

The restaurant Alessia chose was perfect—a hidden gem that felt almost like a secret retreat from the world. The dim lighting, soft jazz music playing in the background, and the cozy ambiance created an intimate setting that immediately set you at ease.

As you both settled into your seats, Alessia flashed a warm, reassuring smile. “So, tell me something I don’t know about you,” she said, her tone light and inviting.

You chuckled nervously, “I’m not great at talking about myself. I usually prefer listening.”

Alessia raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh, come on. I’m sure there’s more to you than what we see on the court. What’s something you’re passionate about outside of basketball?”

You hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Well, I really enjoy painting. It’s a way for me to unwind after a tough game. Not many people know that.”

Alessia’s eyes lit up. “Painting? That’s awesome. What do you like to paint?”

You found yourself opening up more as the conversation flowed. “Landscapes mostly. It’s calming to recreate scenes from nature. It’s the complete opposite of the high-energy game.”

Alessia nodded, genuinely interested. “I get it. I have a similar escape with photography. It’s a different way to see the world and capture moments.”

The conversation effortlessly shifted between your shared passions and life experiences. Alessia was remarkably adept at making you feel comfortable, her genuine curiosity and empathy shining through.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself disclosing more than you’d planned. “You know, Emma, my manager, is really strict about my public image. She even told me I couldn’t come out or share anything personal.”

Alessia’s gaze softened. “That sounds really tough. I can imagine how exhausting it must be to constantly juggle who you really are with the persona you’re expected to maintain.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and vulnerability. “It is. Sometimes it feels like I’m trapped in this persona that everyone expects, and it’s hard to be authentic.”

Alessia reached across the table, gently placing her hand over yours. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I see you for who you really are—an amazing person who’s just trying to find their way amidst all the noise.”

The warmth of her touch sent a comforting shiver through you. “Thank you, Alessia. It means a lot to hear that from someone who gets it.”

As she stroked your knuckles softly, you felt an incredible sense of ease and connection. “You know,” Alessia continued, “the person I see now is so different from the confident player I see on TV. You’re genuine and kind, and it’s refreshing.”

You smiled, feeling more relaxed than you had in a long time. “It’s strange, but it’s also nice. I feel like I can be myself around you.”

The night continued in this intimate, relaxed manner. Alessia’s ability to make you feel at ease, her genuine interest in your life, and the way she saw past the public facade made the evening unforgettable.

It wasn’t just a dinner; it was a rare opportunity to connect on a deeper level, away from the pressures and expectations of the outside world.

As the night drew to a close, Alessia drove you back to your hotel, and, to your surprise, she even accompanied you to the lobby.

“So, when are you leaving London?” Alessia asked, her voice gentle but tinged with nervousness.

You glanced at her, feeling a mix of warmth and unease. “The day after tomorrow,” you replied.

Alessia fidgeted with her keys, her eyes darting around as if searching for the right words. “Well, um… would you maybe want to have breakfast with me tomorrow? It could be a breakfast date, or just breakfast. You know, it doesn’t have to be a date if you’re not into it.”

You stumbled over your own words, your nerves palpable. “Um… yeah, I’d love to. Whether it’s a breakfast date or just breakfast... I mean, if it’s a date, then that’s, uh, great too!”

Alessia let out a nervous laugh, her cheeks turning a soft pink. “Yes, it can be a breakfast date, just like tonight. Or, you know, like tonight’s dinner, but in the morning.”

You tilted your head, trying to decipher her words. “So, was tonight, like, a date?”

Her gaze dropped to the ground, and she mumbled, “Well, kind of. Or it could have been just dinner between friends. But, um, I was hoping it felt a bit more like a date?”

“Oh! No, it definitely felt like a date! ” you responded, your excitement bubbling over.

Alessia’s laughter was light and endearing, filled with nervous relief. “I’m glad you think so.”

A moment of awkward silence followed, with both of you avoiding eye contact. Finally, Alessia spoke up. “So, um, breakfast date tomorrow at 9? Is that good for you?”

You nodded eagerly, trying to mask your anxiety. “Yeah, 9 works great for me.”

“Perfect,” Alessia said, her eyes twinkling as she smiled. “I had a really lovely time tonight. I’ll pick you up at 9 then.”

She hesitated, leaning in slightly as if unsure, and then placed a soft, fleeting kiss on your cheek. Your face flushed bright red, and you could feel your heart racing.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Alessia!” you managed to say, your voice a bit unsteady.

She smiled again, a little more confidently this time. “See you tomorrow.” With one last lingering look, she turned and walked away.

You watched her go, feeling both giddy and nervous. As you made your way to the elevator, you let out a deep, relieved sigh, your mind already racing with anticipation for the next day.

As you opened the door to your hotel room, your friends rushed in, their excitement palpable.

“How did it go?” Cameron asked, practically bouncing on her toes.

You grinned, recounting every detail of the evening. “It was amazing. Alessia and I went to this cozy restaurant, and we talked about everything from basketball to our lives outside the spotlight. She even asked me out for breakfast tomorrow.”

Cameron’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, you have a breakfast date with her? That’s incredible!”

The rest of the team crowded around you, their faces lit up with genuine happiness. “Tell us everything!” one of them exclaimed.

You laughed, describing how Alessia had been both charming and nervous, and how the evening had felt surprisingly comfortable despite the initial awkwardness. “She asked if it could be a date, and I was so flustered. I ended up saying it could be a date breakfast or just a regular one. It was really sweet and… kind of adorable.”

The room burst into cheers and playful teasing. “Y/N’s got another date!” Aari shouted.

Cameron, beaming, added, “I told you it was a date! I’m so glad you had a great time.”

Their enthusiasm was infectious, and you felt a wave of relief and happiness wash over you. Despite the nerves and the awkward moments, it had turned out to be a memorable evening.

“I’m really excited for tomorrow,” you said, smiling as you looked at your friends. “Thanks for being so supportive.”

“Of course! Now go get some rest—you have a big breakfast date ahead!” Cameron said, giving you a thumbs-up.

As you settled in for the night, you couldn’t help but replay the evening’s highlights in your mind, feeling grateful for the support and the unexpected connection with Alessia.

——

When Alessia got home, she immediately grabbed her phone and called her best friend Ella. Her excitement was palpable as she spoke.

“Ella, you will not believe how tonight went!” Alessia gushed into the phone. “Y/N is nothing like I expected. She’s actually really shy and so adorable. We had such a great time, and we’re going to have breakfast together tomorrow!”

Ella’s voice was filled with teasing delight. “Oh wow, someone’s smitten! I’m so happy for you, Alessia. You’ve got to tell me everything—what did you two talk about? Was it as magical as it sounds?”

Alessia laughed, her enthusiasm undiminished. “It really was. We talked about so much—her life, her struggles with being in the spotlight. She opened up more than I thought she would. It felt so natural and comfortable. I just can’t wait to see her again.”

After hanging up, Alessia settled into her bed, her mind buzzing with thoughts of the evening. She replayed their conversation, the way Y/N’s eyes lit up, and the soft laughter they shared. The anticipation of their breakfast date tomorrow made her smile as she drifted off to sleep, feeling a mix of excitement and contentment.

——

The next morning, Alessia picked you up promptly at 9, and instead of driving, you both decided to walk to the charming café she had chosen.

The crisp morning air was invigorating, and the short stroll allowed for easy conversation, setting a relaxed tone for the day.

As you walked side by side, you noticed how Alessia seemed to be both graceful and clumsy at the same time. A few times, she almost tripped over her own feet, her balance wavering with each misstep.

Once, she was so engrossed in conversation with you that she accidentally bumped into someone on the sidewalk. You both laughed, finding her small mishaps endearing.

When you arrived at the café, the quaint atmosphere was warm and inviting. The café had a cozy, intimate vibe, with soft lighting and comfortable seating. As you both sat down, Alessia's playful demeanor continued.

While reaching for her menu, Alessia’s fork slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor. She quickly bent down to retrieve it, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Oops, sorry about that,” she said, her voice tinged with a nervous laugh. “I guess I’m a bit of a klutz this morning.”

You couldn’t help but smile, finding her genuine and endearing. “It’s fine. It just makes the morning more memorable.”

Alessia laughed, clearly relieved by your easygoing reaction. “I’m glad you think so. It’s nice to be with someone who doesn’t mind my little mishaps.”

As you chatted over breakfast, you felt yourself becoming more comfortable. Alessia shared stories from her childhood and football career, her animated gestures and bright smile making her stories come alive. You found yourself laughing and relaxing more with each passing minute.

“Tell me more about your childhood,” you asked, intrigued by her stories. “What was it like growing up?”

Alessia’s eyes lit up. “Well, I grew up in a small town, and football was pretty much the center of my world. My family was always supportive, and I had a lot of fun playing with my friends.”

As the conversation flowed effortlessly, you began to feel more at ease, noticing how Alessia’s clumsiness seemed to add to her charm.

She dropped her fork again, this time catching it with a laugh. “I guess I’m just having one of those days,” she said, grinning.

You shook your head, amused. “Well, I think it just makes you even more endearing.”

Alessia leaned in, her gaze soft and sincere. “I’m really glad we’re getting to know each other like this. It feels so natural.”

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face. “Me too. It’s been a really great morning.”

After finishing breakfast, you both made your way back to the hotel. As you walked and talked, her hand brushed lightly against yours. You hesitated, feeling a flutter of anticipation.

You longed to take her hand, to feel the warmth of her touch. Tentatively, your fingers inched closer, and with a mix of hesitation and hope, you gently intertwined them with hers.

She looked at you with a soft, knowing smile, her fingers lacing securely with yours as she held your hand tightly.

The gentle pressure of her hand against yours felt both exhilarating and calming.

Your cheeks warmed with a soft blush, and you smiled tenderly as Alessia swayed your hands back and forth, a quiet rhythm that felt intimate and reassuring.

Arriving at the hotel, you walked Alessia to her car.

“I really enjoyed our date,” you said, your voice filled with genuine warmth, still holding her hand.

Alessia lifted your hand to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles before drawing you closer. Her eyes sparkled with affection as she spoke. “Me too. I don’t want this to end. I want to spend more time with you.” Her voice was a soft, earnest plea as she let go of your hand, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you against her.

“Is this okay?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, her breath mingling with yours. You nodded, a bit shy but eager.

“I don’t want to leave either, but you have training and I have interviews,” you said, placing your hands tenderly on her shoulders.

She sighed softly, her gaze steady and hopeful. “Are you free tonight?”

“Yes,” you responded with a gentle nod.

“How about one last date before you leave for LA? I can’t cook, but we could order some food and watch a movie at my place,” she proposed, her confidence growing with every word.

You felt her fingers brush softly against your back, and you leaned into her embrace, feeling the warmth and comfort of her closeness.

“I’d love that,” you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity and affection.

Your faces were inches apart, and you could feel the warmth of her breath on your skin. She leaned in slowly, her eyes searching yours for permission. You nodded, and with a tender, deliberate motion, she closed the distance between you.

When your lips finally met, the kiss was soft and tentative, full of the unspoken emotions you both felt.

You wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her closer, and felt her arms tighten around your waist in response. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect, fleeting moment.

It was unexpected to share your first kiss in a parking lot, but the location didn’t matter as much as the connection between you.

When you finally pulled away, you gazed into each other’s eyes, sharing one last gentle kiss. You could feel her smile against your lips, a tender, shared joy.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you said softly, pulling away with a smile that mirrored hers.

“See you tonight,” she replied, holding your hand for a lingering moment before letting go. You walked back to the hotel, your heart full and your face lit up with a beaming grin.

——

“What about this one?” Alessia asked, scrolling through Netflix as you both looked for a movie to watch.

After breakfast this morning, you had faced Emma’s reprimand for not being where you were supposed to be.

You had lied about your whereabouts, and now you were overwhelmed with a schedule packed with interviews, photoshoots, and other work commitments for the rest of the afternoon.

You hadn’t even had a chance to fully revel in the joy of your amazing date and first kiss with Alessia before being bombarded with work and Emma's demands.

The girls had been curiously probing about your date, and when you shared the details, they erupted into cheers and squeals, especially when you mentioned the kiss.

Throughout the day, Alessia and you stayed in touch through texts and discreet phone calls whenever you found a quiet moment. Her messages and calls provided a welcome escape and made the day pass more smoothly.

Now, you were in her cozy living room, having taken an Uber to avoid burdening her after her grueling training session.

You had ordered sushi, and the two of you enjoyed it together, laughing and sharing stories. The ease of conversation and shared laughter made the evening feel special.

Currently, you were curled up on her couch, a soft blanket draped over your lap as you both searched for a movie to watch.

“Yeah, sure, why not,” you replied, settling in and getting more comfortable. You were nestled close to her, your mind lingering on the kiss you had shared.

As the movie played, Alessia inched closer, her arm sliding around your shoulders and drawing you nearer. You rested your head on her shoulder, feeling a deep sense of contentment and warmth.

You reached for her free hand resting in her lap and intertwined your fingers with hers. The simple touch was incredibly soothing, providing a comforting escape from the stress of your day.

When the movie ended, it was late, and you knew it was time to head back to the hotel.

“I’m going to call an Uber,” you said, pulling out your phone and preparing to arrange your ride.

“No, no, no, I’m driving you,” Alessia insisted, taking your phone from your hand and heading towards the front door to grab her car keys.

“Alessia, it’s really okay. You must be tired. I don’t want you to drive me; go rest,” you said, reaching out to retrieve your phone, but she slipped it behind her back, making it out of reach.

“It’s okay; I want to. Plus, it’ll give us a bit more time together,” she said softly, her eyes meeting yours with a gentle intensity.

She then cupped your face in her hands, leaning in and capturing your lips in a tender kiss. You responded by wrapping your arms around her waist, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss.

When you finally pulled apart, she looked at you with a smile and said, “Let’s go,” unlocking the front door and leading you outside to her car.

In the car, as you drove, the reality of parting ways began to sink in, leaving you with a bittersweet feeling. The time spent with Alessia had been a refreshing break from your usual struggles and unhappiness. She had seen the real you and made those few days in London unforgettable.

Noticing your somber mood, Alessia placed her hand gently on your thigh, her touch soothing. You couldn’t help but smile at her comforting gesture.

As you arrived at the hotel, Alessia parked the car and immediately pulled you into a warm embrace. You buried your face in the crook of her neck, savoring her warmth and the closeness.

“I’m going to miss you a lot,” you admitted, your voice muffled against her skin.

“Me too,” she replied softly, her voice filled with genuine emotion.

You pulled back slightly and kissed her. The kiss began tenderly but quickly grew more passionate as your lips and tongues danced together. The intensity of the kiss conveyed the depth of your feelings.

After a few moments, you pulled away, and she smiled at you with a mixture of sadness and affection.

“We’ll text and call each other, okay? It’ll be challenging because of the time difference, but remember, you can call me anytime. I’ll always be here,” Alessia said, her thumb caressing your cheek.

“Okay, and you can call me too. I’ll always answer,” you promised, leaning into her touch and giving her another gentle kiss.

After sharing a few more soft kisses, you reluctantly parted ways. It was getting late, and Alessia needed to return home to rest for her early morning training.

You began walking away, turning to wave at her. She waved back and blew you a kiss, which you caught with a smile.

Both of you were surprised by how difficult it was to say goodbye after only three days, but it was clear that these brief moments together had created a meaningful connection.

——

You’ve been back in Los Angeles for four weeks now, and saying that you miss Alessia doesn’t even begin to cover it.

You’ve been texting and FaceTiming every day since you returned, but it’s been tough because both of you are busy and the time difference is a constant challenge.

Still, you’ve made it work. You’ve managed to have virtual dates where she’s having dinner while you’re having lunch. It’s not ideal, but you’ve made it work.

“I think I prefer the ponytail,” you told Alessia as she got ready for her training session.

It was midnight for you and 9 a.m. for Alessia. You were laying in bed, feeling the heavy pull of sleep but wanting to stay awake to see her.

“Okay, ponytail it is,” she said with a playful grin, pulling her hair into a neat ponytail before turning back to the screen. “You know, I love how you always notice the little things.”

She smiled at you with that warm, familiar look. “You should really go to sleep, love. You look like you’re about to fall over. I don’t want you to be sleepy on my account.”

You both had started calling each other cute nicknames, though you weren’t exactly sure where things stood. It was casual for now, but there was a lot of affection between you.

“I don’t want to miss any chance to talk with you,” you said, your eyes fluttering closed despite your efforts to stay awake.

Alessia giggled softly, her laughter a comforting sound. “Well, when you wake up, you can call me and we’ll continue our little chat. I’ll be having dinner, and you’ll be having breakfast. It’s like we’re having a date across time zones.”

“That sounds perfect,” you said with a yawn. “Have a great morning, babe.”

“And you have a wonderful night, baby,” she said soothingly, her voice a gentle lullaby. “Sleep tight, and dream of me.”

You managed a sleepy smile before the call ended. As you drifted off, you felt a warm sense of connection, eagerly anticipating the next time you’d be together.

——

Tonight, you had a match and were warming up with your team. Alessia had wished you good luck earlier, but sadly, she wouldn’t be able to watch since it was too late in England.

On the court, you focused on giving a stellar performance, brimming with confidence and cockiness. Naturally, you won the game.

As soon as the final whistle blew, Emma pounced on you like a hawk. “Great game, but don’t get too comfortable,” she said sharply. “You need to sign autographs, take photos, and then we have the press conference.”

You tried to catch your breath, but Emma was relentless. “Seriously, Emma? Can I have a minute to breathe?” you asked, your frustration evident.

Emma fixed you with a hard stare. “No, you don’t get a minute. This is part of the job. The fans expect it, and the media demands it. You’re going to do it, and you’re going to do it now.”

You sighed heavily. “I’m exhausted. Can’t this wait?”

“No,” she snapped, her tone brooking no argument. “You’re the star player, and that means your time isn’t your own. Besides, think of it as practice for the bigger stage. We have to maintain appearances.”

Your patience was wearing thin. “I’ve got a few days off starting tonight. I really need this time to unwind.”

Emma’s expression hardened. “You can have your days off after you’ve done your duties. Want to enjoy that time? Then put in the work now and stop arguing with me.”

With a defeated nod, you headed off to handle the post-match obligations. The thought of those precious days off was the only thing keeping you going as you endured the endless rounds of autographs and photos.

——

“Congratulations on your win, baby! You were absolutely amazing,” Alessia’s voice came through, filled with admiration.

She had watched the game replay and was genuinely impressed by how well you played.

“You know,” she teased, “that cockiness on the court—it’s like you’re two different people. I love how you’re all fierce and confident out there, but so sweet and caring when you’re off the court.”

You smiled softly, feeling a wave of relief. “I can finally relax now. I have the whole week off.”

“That’s wonderful! What’s your plan?” she asked, stretching out comfortably on her bed.

You sighed playfully, “Well, my family is on vacation, so I’ll be on my own. I was thinking of just lounging in bed all week.”

Alessia’s eyes brightened as she suggested hesitantly, “Hey… maybe you could come to England? We could spend the week together. I only have one match and the rest of the week off… only if you want to, of course.

Your face lit up with excitement. “Yes! I’d love to come to England and see you play in person! That sounds perfect.”

Alessia’s smile mirrored yours. “I’d love that too, more than anything. I miss you so much, baby.”

“I miss you more, Alessia,” you said, admiring her through the phone. “Will you stay on the line until I fall asleep? I’ll book my plane ticket tomorrow.”

“Of course, I’ll stay with you,” she said warmly, turning onto her side as she gazed at you through the screen while you propped your phone up on your pillow.

“Goodnight, sweet dreams,” she whispered softly.

“Good morning,” you replied, knowing it was morning for her. She chuckled lightly as you drifted off, comforted by her presence on the phone.

——

You were navigating your way through the London airport, eager to meet Alessia. She had texted you that she was waiting for you in the parking lot, and you could hardly contain your excitement.

As you approached the parking area, you spotted her almost immediately—her bright blonde hair stood out even in the bustling lot. With a wide smile on your face, you called out her name. She looked up, her eyes lighting up as she saw you.

You quickened your pace, and she rushed to meet you halfway. She wrapped you in a warm, tight embrace, her arms holding you close as you giggled, feeling the weight of the past month apart melt away.

“It’s so wonderful to see you in person again” you murmured into her shoulder, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes. You pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, and her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink.

“Wow, you’re even more stunning in real life than on my screen,” she teased playfully, her eyes twinkling with affection. You couldn’t help but laugh, her words making your heart flutter.

“Let’s head out,” she said, taking your suitcase with ease. You both walked to her car, and once you were inside, she started driving. The car was filled with a comfortable silence, only broken by the soft melodies of the radio.

As the car came to a red light, you felt Alessia’s gaze on you. You turned to her with a teasing smile, asking, “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing much,” she replied softly, her voice full of warmth. “I’m just so happy you’re here with me.” Her words made your heart race, and you felt a shy blush creeping onto your cheeks.

Feeling a rush of affection, you leaned closer and asked, “Can I kiss you?” Alessia’s smile grew even wider as she nodded, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. You closed the gap between you, your lips meeting in a sweet, lingering kiss.

The kiss quickly grew more passionate, her tongue gently exploring yours. The moment was blissful until a sudden honk from another car startled you both. You pulled away, laughing together as you realized the light had turned green.

Arriving at her house, Alessia guided you to the guest bedroom you’d be sleeping in. You thanked her with a heartfelt hug before collapsing onto the bed, utterly exhausted from your journey.

Alessia chuckled softly and joined you on the bed, her presence comforting. As you settled beside her, you turned to face her, and she looked at you with such adoration.

You reached out, capturing her lips in a slow, tender kiss. Her hands traced soothing circles on your back beneath your shirt, and you felt a sense of contentment and love that you hadn’t felt in weeks.

After what seemed like an eternity of gentle kisses, you pulled back, feeling a bit uncomfortable from the long flight. “I think I really need a shower; I feel a bit gross,” you admitted with a sheepish smile.

Alessia laughed softly and guided you towards the bathroom. “Go freshen up, love. I’ll be here waiting for you,” she said, her voice filled with affection. As you walked away, you felt her eyes on you, and you knew that despite the exhaustion, this moment was everything you had been longing for.

That evening, you and Alessia were having dinner together. Of course, you had taken charge in the kitchen, since Alessia had admitted more than once that cooking wasn’t her strong suit.

The cozy atmosphere was perfect—the soft clinking of utensils, the warm lighting, and just the two of you enjoying a quiet evening. But there was something on your mind, a question you had been wanting to ask for a while.

As you played with your fork, gathering the courage, you finally spoke. “So... what are we?” you asked, your voice soft but curious, glancing up at her from across the table.

Alessia blinked, her face showing a moment of surprise as she considered your question. “Well... we can be whatever you want us to be, I guess?” she said, her tone gentle, though there was a hint of nervousness behind her smile.

You bit your lip, heart racing as you decided to go for it. “I was thinking... maybe we could be official?” You paused, feeling butterflies in your stomach. “Like... I’d be your girlfriend?”

For a brief second, Alessia’s eyes widened, but then her entire face softened into the sweetest smile. “I’d love that. I’d love to be your girlfriend,” she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

Your heart felt like it was soaring, and without thinking, you leaned across the table to give her a soft, lingering kiss, smiling against her lips. When you pulled away, you couldn’t help but whisper, “My girlfriend.”

Alessia’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, and she giggled shyly. “And you’re my girlfriend,” she whispered back, her eyes shining with happiness.

You both sat there, grinning like fools, the warmth of the moment wrapping around you. Then Alessia added, “I can’t believe this is real. I’ve been wanting to ask you the same thing, but... I didn’t want to rush you.”

You laughed softly, reaching for her hand across the table. “I guess we both wanted the same thing.”

She squeezed your hand gently, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Well, I’m glad you said something first. I’m so happy right now,” she said, her eyes never leaving yours.

Dinner was momentarily forgotten as the two of you sat there, basking in the joy of finally making things official, unable to stop smiling at each other.

——

“Okay, baby, I’m going to go now,” Alessia called out, hurrying through the living room, grabbing her bag and keys.

She was clearly in a rush, her shoes tapping against the floor as she moved back and forth, double-checking that she had everything.

Today was match day, and though the game wasn’t until the afternoon, Alessia had to leave early for team prep and meetings. Her excitement was clear, but so was the usual pre-game focus.

“Alright, love. I’ll see you at the match later,”you replied from your spot at the kitchen table, casually eating breakfast. A small smile played on your lips as you watched her buzz around the room.

Alessia paused for a second, turning toward you. She walked over and placed her warm hand gently on the back of your neck, tilting your head up to meet her gaze. “Come here,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss you softly, her lips brushing against yours in a few quick pecks.

“Text me when you get there, okay?”she murmured, her breath warm against your lips as she lingered just inches from your face.

You smiled, kissing her back a little longer this time before pulling away. “I will. Promise.”

With one last look, Alessia gave you a bright smile, kissed the top of your head, and dashed out the door, leaving the house feeling a little quieter in her absence. The sound of the door closing echoed, and you were left sitting there, lost in thought.

Being with Alessia always filled you with this sense of peace and contentment. It was like the rest of the world and all its stressors faded away—no more work pressure, no cameras, no dealing with negativity or drama, not even the lingering thoughts of Emma. Just you, Alessia, and the affection you shared.

The match wasn’t for a few more hours, so you decided to spend the morning downtown. After getting dressed, you called an Uber and left the house, heading into the heart of the city for a bit of exploring.

After walking around for a while, you unexpectedly found yourself in front of the Emirates Stadium.

The sheer size of it caught your attention, and you remembered Alessia mentioning it before—how proud she was that they played some of their matches there and how they’d broken attendance records. It was a special place for her.

Out of curiosity, you wandered into the stadium’s shop. The store was packed with merchandise—scarves, mugs, and jerseys from various players. Your eyes immediately caught sight of a familiar name: Russo. Alessia’s jersey was hanging right there in front of you.

You walked over, running your fingers across the fabric, admiring her name printed boldly across the back. You couldn’t help but smile, thinking of her out there on the pitch, doing what she loved.

But then you hesitated. Was it too soon to buy it? You hadn’t been together for that long. Would she find it cheesy? Or maybe she’d feel pressured? You weren't sure how she’d react to seeing you wear her jersey so early in the relationship.

Then again, you wanted to show her how proud you were, how much you supported her, not just as a girlfriend but as someone who admired her talent and passion. After a moment of deliberation, you picked the jersey off the rack, holding it up with a grin.

Screw it, you thought. You were buying it.

As you made your way to the register, you couldn't help but imagine Alessia’s reaction when she saw you wearing her name. Would she be surprised? Happy? You hoped it would make her smile the way she made you smile every day.

——

Arriving at the stadium, you were immediately struck by the electric atmosphere. The place was buzzing, packed with men, women, and children all decked out in various jerseys.

Some fans were singing team chants at the top of their lungs, others laughing and chatting with excitement. As you scanned the crowd, a few Russo jerseys caught your eye, and it brought a smile to your face, knowing how proud Alessia would be to see her name out there.

Sticking to your promise, you quickly sent Alessia a text: "I’m here!" before heading inside to find your seat. The stadium felt even larger from the inside, and the anticipation building in the crowd was contagious.

Settling into your seat, you began scrolling through your social media, casually passing the time.

Suddenly, the crowd erupted into cheers, and you looked up to see the Arsenal women’s team emerging from the tunnel for their warm-up. Your eyes immediately found Alessia, her figure unmistakable as she jogged to the center of the field.

There was something about her that captivated you in that moment. Dressed in her training kit, she looked completely in her element, focused yet calm.

Her hair was tied up in a neat ponytail, and the way she moved was almost hypnotic. You couldn’t take your eyes off her—she was stunning, both as an athlete and as your girlfriend.

As Alessia stretched and warmed up, you noticed her sneaking glances toward the stands, scanning the crowd. It was obvious she was looking for you.

When her eyes finally landed on you, her face lit up, and you waved, feeling your heart skip a beat as she waved back with a huge smile. Her gaze shifted to your jersey, and for a moment, you could see the curiosity in her expression as she squinted slightly, trying to make out the name on the back.

She pointed at your jersey with a grin, giving you a thumbs up, and you knew exactly what she was thinking—she was hoping it was her name you were wearing. You smiled back at her, standing up slightly to show off the back, and she gave a little fist pump, clearly pleased.

With a playful smile, she blew you a kiss, and even from the distance, she could you her cheeks flush slightly as you caught it with a laugh before returning to her warm-up routine.

It was a small, intimate moment in the middle of a crowded stadium, but it felt like it was just the two of you.

——

The final whistle echoed through the stadium, marking the end of the match. Arsenal had won, and Alessia had scored two breathtaking goals. The stands erupted in cheers, fans chanting for their heroes as the players exchanged handshakes on the pitch.

After the formalities, the Arsenal players began their lap around the stadium, waving to the fans and stopping for photos.

Alessia made her way closer to your section, taking the time to chat with fans, especially the young ones. It was heartwarming to watch her interact with them—so sweet and patient, laughing with them, even signing shirts and taking selfies.

The kids clearly idolized her, and seeing that made your heart swell with pride. You couldn’t help but feel lucky to be hers.

From where you stood, you debated whether you should go over and talk to her. Part of you wanted to be close, but you weren’t sure if Alessia wanted to be seen with you in front of all these people.

You’d been keeping a low profile, not wanting to attract too much attention. Wearing a hat was your attempt at blending in, though you weren’t sure how much it actually helped.

Then there was the Emma factor. If she found out you were at an Arsenal match in a Russo jersey, she would flip.

The dating rumors would undoubtedly blow up, and with Emma so intent to keep your sexuality hidden, it could lead to trouble. Not for you, but certainly for her. You didn’t want to complicate things.

Sighing, you decided not to approach. Instead, you started making your way out of the stadium, feeling a little disappointed but knowing it was probably the right decision. Before leaving, you quickly texted Alessia:

*Heading back to your place now. See you soon*

As Alessia continued signing autographs, her eyes scanned the crowd again, looking for you. But when she didn’t see you, a flicker of worry crossed her face.

Where had you gone? Did something happen? Did you not enjoy the match? She tried to stay focused on the fans, but the nagging thoughts kept surfacing.

Once she finished up and made her way to her car, she switched on her phone and saw your message. Her brows furrowed as she read it.

You had left without saying goodbye. Confused and slightly concerned, she dialed your number immediately.

The phone barely rang before you picked up. “Hi, babe! Great match!” you said cheerfully, hoping to ease any tension.

“Thanks,” Alessia replied, though you could hear the worry in her voice. “But are you okay? Why did you leave so early? I wanted to see you after the match.”

Hearing her concern made your heart melt. “Oh… I didn’t know if you’d want me to come up to you with all those people around. You know how it is with rumors. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel.”

“Baby, of course I wanted to see you,” Alessia said, her voice softening. “I don’t care about rumors. Do you?”

“I mean, I don’t either… but with Emma and my contracts, I didn’t want to stir things up. You know how she is. I just didn’t want to get into trouble, but I really wanted to come up to you,” you admitted, feeling a bit guilty.

Alessia sighed, her voice affectionate. “I understand, love”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I just didn’t want to cause any issues today.”

“It’s okay, I get it,” she reassured you. “I’m on my way home now, so I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be waiting for you,” you replied with a smile.

“Good. And hey, next time, don’t hesitate, okay? I want you there,” she added softly, before hanging up.

As you hung up the phone, you couldn’t stop smiling. Hearing how much she wanted you there eased your worries, and you were already looking forward to seeing her again in just a little while.

——

When Alessia stepped through the door, she was immediately welcomed by the comforting smell of food cooking. Curiosity piqued, she wandered into the kitchen and found you standing by the stove, still dressed in her jersey, completely focused on preparing dinner.

You hadn’t noticed her yet, so with a mischievous smile, she quietly snuck up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. The sudden touch made you jump a little, nearly spilling what was in your hands.

“Ah! Alessia, you scared me!” you gasped, turning your head slightly to look at her.

She giggled softly, the sound warm and playful. “Sorry, love,” she mumbled with her chin now resting on your shoulder, her body gently pressed against yours. You were both the same height, and the way she fit perfectly against you felt natural, comforting.

Without missing a beat, she planted a soft kiss on your cheek. “By the way, my jersey looks so good on you,” she whispered teasingly, her breath warm against your skin.

You couldn’t help but grin. “Does it really?” you teased back, leaning into her slightly as she started to sway the two of you gently from side to side, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Mmm, yep,” she hummed. “But you know, you could’ve just asked, and I’d have given you one of my old jerseys,” she said with a cheeky smile against your cheek, her lips brushing against your skin.

You giggled, feeling your heart warm at her playfulness. “Too late for that,” you replied with a soft smile, enjoying the closeness.

“Well then, I’ll just have to get one of yours!” Alessia said, her voice full of excitement. “That way, when I come to the U.S. to watch one of your matches, I’ll wear it.”

Surprised, you turned your head slightly more to look at her. “You’d really come to one of my games?” you asked, the disbelief clear in your voice. None of your so-called friends—or even past partners—had ever made the effort to come to one of your matches.

Alessia pulled you in tighter, resting her chin on your shoulder again as she softly replied, “Of course I will. I want to see you play in person, not just on TV. We can be each other’s WAGs.” She laughed lightly, the sound making your heart flutter, as she nuzzled her nose against your neck.

You turned around fully in her arms, your face lighting up. “You really want to watch me play?” you asked, still amazed by how supportive she was.

She grinned, her eyes sparkling. “Absolutely. I can’t wait to see the cocky, confident Y/N on the field. Because the Y/N I know is shy and adorable.” She rubbed her nose against yours playfully, her gaze softening as she looked at you.

Your cheeks flushed at her words, feeling a little bashful. “You’re making me blush,” you said, lightly slapping her shoulder with a laugh, before leaning in to kiss her gently.

Alessia kissed you back softly, her hands resting on your waist as she smiled against your lips. When you pulled away, she brushed her thumb tenderly across your cheek. “You know, you don’t have to be nervous about me coming to your games. I’ll always be cheering for you.”

Her words melted your heart, and you leaned your forehead against hers, the warmth between you two undeniable. “I guess I just never expected anyone to actually want to come watch me play,” you admitted quietly.

“Well, I do,” she said softly, her gaze full of affection. “And I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Hearing that made you feel a kind of happiness you hadn’t felt in a long time. Knowing Alessia was willing to support you in such a meaningful way filled you with gratitude and joy. You were already looking forward to the day she’d be in the stands, proudly wearing your jersey, just as you had done for her today.

After dinner, you and Alessia settled on the couch, cozying up together to watch a movie. The warmth and comfort of the evening were abruptly interrupted when your phone rang. You glanced at the screen and saw Emma’s name, which immediately made you sit up, causing Alessia to look at you in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” Alessia asked, her voice filled with concern.

“It’s Emma,” you replied nervously. “She never calls me. She only texts, and when she calls, it’s usually bad news.”

You answered the call and put it on speaker, so Alessia could hear too. Emma’s voice blared through the speaker, sharp and accusing.

“Y/N!?” Emma’s voice was full of anger, making your eyes widen in alarm.

“Yes?” you answered, trying to sound calm.

Emma took a long, frustrated breath before launching into her tirade. “Can you explain to me why I woke up to rumors about you dating a woman soccer player? It’s all over social media! How did you manage to get yourself into this mess?”

Your gaze darted to Alessia, who looked equally shocked. You tried to maintain a calm demeanor, though you were clearly distressed.

“I… um, I don’t know,” you said, trying to play innocent.

“So you have no idea how you magically ended up at an Arsenal game wearing an Alessia Russo jersey? And don’t even get me started on the picture of her blowing you a kiss on the field!” Emma’s sarcasm was palpable, her frustration evident.

You glanced at Alessia, who looked as if she was struggling to remain composed. She squeezed your hand reassuringly, her support evident.

“Okay, yes, I went to the Arsenal game,” you admitted. “But nothing really happened. We barely interacted. People can still think we’re just friends. That kiss was the only thing that happened.”

Emma’s tone grew even more hostile. “Oh, really? Because if you’d bothered to check social media, you’d see that there’s a picture of you two making out in a parking lot! Not only did you flaunt this relationship during the day, but you also lied to me about where you were this morning!”

“I… I didn’t know,” you stammered, feeling the tears start to well up. Alessia’s hand was still in yours, and her grip tightened slightly in a gesture of comfort.

“Do you have any idea what this means for you?” Emma’s voice was now a sharp, cutting edge. “No contracts, no sponsors. Your career is in serious jeopardy. Do you realize how screwed you are?”

“I—” you began, but Emma cut you off with a cutting edge.

“Save it. Don’t say another word. Just let me handle this,” Emma snapped before ending the call abruptly.

The sudden silence in the room was heavy. Tears began to fall as you felt overwhelmed by the weight of Emma’s harsh words. Alessia’s heart broke for you. She pulled you into her arms, holding you tightly and rubbing your back soothingly. For a while, you just let her comfort you in silence, feeling the warmth of her embrace.

“I’m really sorry,” you whispered after a few moments, your voice muffled against her shoulder as you snifflled.

“For what?” Alessia asked softly, gently pulling your face away from her shoulder so she could see your eyes.

“Everyone knows now,” you said, your voice trembling with concern. “I didn’t know if you’d be okay with everyone knowing about us. We never talked about it.”

Alessia’s expression softened, her eyes filled with affection. “I don’t care that everyone knows. It’s nobody’s business but ours,” she reassured you with a tender smile.

She was truly unbothered by the public attention. Her happiness with you was what mattered most to her. Being out in the open didn’t change that.

“And it’s absolutely not your fault,” Alessia continued, her voice firm but gentle. “I’m the one who kissed you in the parking lot. If anyone should apologize, it’s me.” She caressed your cheek softly, her gaze full of sincerity.

“No, it’s not your fault either… I’m happy you kissed me,” you said, managing a small, grateful smile.

Alessia’s smile widened, her eyes sparkling with love. “I’m glad I kissed you too,” she said, leaning in to place the softest, most reassuring kiss on your lips.

She then took your phone and turned it off, placing it aside. “Let’s not worry about that tonight. Let’s just focus on being together and go to bed,” she suggested, gently helping you to your feet as you nodded and turned off the TV.

As you made your way to the hallway, Alessia paused and turned to you, a touch of nervousness in her voice. “Do you want to sleep with me?” she asked hesitantly.

You looked at her, a bit surprised by the question.

“I mean, just sleep together. Not anything else,” she rambled nervously, her cheeks flushing. “Though, yes, I’d like to… you know, in the future, if you want,of course! But for now, I just meant to sleep, to close our eyes together.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her endearing nervousness, finding her adorable. “Of course, I’d love to close my eyes with you,” you teased, making her giggle.

You followed her to her room, and as you both lay down facing each other, Alessia draped her arms around your waist, pulling you close. She kissed you softly. “Good night, baby,” she whispered, her hands soothingly rubbing your back.

Feeling completely relaxed, you whispered back, “Good night, babe,” before closing your eyes. You and Alessia drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, feeling more connected and at peace than ever.

——

The next morning, you woke up to the gentle sensation of soft kisses being pressed all over your face. You let out a contented hum, still half-asleep.

"Good morning," Alessia’s raspy morning voice greeted you, her face beaming with a soft smile as your eyes fluttered open to meet hers.

“I made you breakfast… well, at least I tried,” she chuckled, clearly proud of her effort. You giggled in response, but as she leaned in for a kiss, you playfully turned your head, causing her lips to land on your cheek.

“Hey!” Alessia whined, pouting a little.

“Morning breath,” you teased, smirking as you kissed her cheek in return before slipping out of bed. Together, you made your way to the bathroom to freshen up.

“I’ll wait for you in the kitchen,” she said, flashing you another one of those soft smiles, and you nodded, watching her leave with a warm feeling in your chest.

After washing up, you found Alessia in the kitchen. She looked up at you with that hopeful gleam in her eyes. “Can I have my kiss now, please?” she asked, grinning. You giggled and leaned down to press a soft kiss on her lips before sitting down at the table.

“Thank you, Less. This looks really good,” you said, grateful for her effort. You both ate quietly, enjoying the moment, but a sense of calm was soon interrupted.

After breakfast, you turned on your phone, and immediately, it blew up with missed calls and texts, mostly from your teammates and, predictably, Emma.

Your social media was flooded with the picture of you and Alessia kissing in that parking lot. Some of the comments were harsh, filled with judgment and nastiness. You sighed, feeling the weight of it all.

Alessia, noticing the shift in your mood, slid her chair closer and gently placed a hand on your arm. “Please, don't read those comments,” she said softly, her eyes filled with concern. “Don’t let them dictate how you live your life. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

Her voice was steady but filled with emotion. “No matter what you decide, I’m here, always. I know we’ve only been officially together for less than a week, but I care so much about you. I don’t want to lose you over this.”

Her words hit you deeply, making your heart swell. She was right—you had spent too long letting others control your life, dictate your happiness, and stifle who you were. That needed to change, and it needed to happen now.

“You’re right,” you said, finally feeling that resolve settle in. Without hesitation, you dialed Emma’s number. It was past midnight in LA, but you didn’t care. You knew she was awake anyway, probably plotting her next move.

The call rang a few times before Emma answered, her voice harsh and impatient. “Finally, you pick up. I’ve been calling you a thousands times! Now listen—here’s what we’re going to do—”

You cut her off, your voice firm and steady. “No, you listen to me.”

There was silence on the other end as Emma, likely shocked by your tone, waited.

“I don’t care about the sponsors, the contracts, or what the media is going to say. Do you hear me? Here’s what’s going to happen: I’m coming out, and I’m doing it today.”

You could hear Emma start to protest, but you shut her down before she could even get a word in. “No, shut up and listen. I’m tired of you controlling my life. I’m 22, Emma. I’m an adult. I’m done with this.”

“You’re going to ruin your career!” Emma’s voice was sharp, dripping with scorn.

You took a deep breath, the weight of your words heavy but resolute. “I’d rather risk ruining my career and be happy than keep pretending to be someone I’m not and stay miserable.”

“As your manager—” she tried again, but this time, you didn’t let her finish.

“Oh, right. I almost forgot to mention: you’re not my manager anymore. You’re fired.” The words spilled out with finality, and before Emma could respond with more venom, you ended the call and tossed your phone onto the table.

For a moment, there was silence. Alessia, who had been quietly observing, was staring at you, her eyes wide in admiration and surprise.

“Um… was that okay? Did I go too far?” you asked nervously, suddenly second-guessing yourself.

Without hesitation, Alessia cupped your face in her hands and kissed you deeply, her lips warm and soft against yours. When she pulled away, she smiled. “You were absolutely perfect,” she whispered, her voice filled with pride.

You smiled, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. You were finally in control of your own life, and Alessia was right there with you, every step of the way.

——

“You’re going to put on a show for your girl tonight,” Cam teased with a grin, watching as you blushed at her words.

“Absolutely,” you replied confidently, heading onto the court as the match was about to start. “I plan to make it unforgettable.”

It’s been about a month since you came out and fired Emma. Initially, it was tough to manage with brand deals, media attention, and people talking about your personal life.

But over time, things settled down, and people moved on. Although you and Alessia still occasionally receive hate, you’ve learned not to let it bother you.

As you took your position, you glanced to your right and immediately spotted Alessia in the front row, just as she had promised, wearing your jersey. She gave you a playful wink, and you responded by blowing her a kiss. Her grin widened, filled with excitement and pride as she caught the kiss.

The match began with intense energy. You played with a mix of flair and precision, showing off your skills and determination. Every move was calculated to impress not just the crowd, but especially Alessia. At one point, you executed a particularly stunning maneuver, and with a confident smirk, you glanced in Alessia’s direction. She caught your eye and winked back, her teasing smile clearly enjoying your performance.

By the end of the game, you had secured a decisive victory. Your performance was not just strong but spectacular, as you’d promised. The crowd was buzzing, but your main focus was on Alessia.

As you approached the sidelines, you locked eyes with her, giving her a playful wink. She responded with a wide, teasing smile and a little wave, clearly thrilled by your performance.

——

Back home, as you and Alessia snuggled on the couch, you couldn’t help but reflect on the evening’s events.

“You were absolutely amazing out there,” Alessia said, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

“Thanks,” you replied, your smile wide and satisfied. “I really wanted to make it a memorable night for you.”

Alessia nestled closer, her hand resting on yours. “You definitely did. I’ve never seen you play with such confidence and flair. It was like you were in your element.”

You sighed contentedly, looking into her eyes. “It feels incredible to hear you say that. I’ve worked so hard to get to this point, to be this person. And having you here, cheering me on, makes it all the more special.”

Alessia smiled softly. “You’ve always been amazing, but now you’re truly shining. It’s like you’ve found yourself, and it’s beautiful to see.”

You nodded, feeling a deep sense of fulfillment. “It’s true. For the longest time, I felt lost, trying to fit into other people’s expectations. But now, I’m finally being who I truly am. No more trying to live up to Emma’s standards or anyone else’s. I’m proud of who I’ve become, and I’m so happy to have you by my side.”

Alessia squeezed your hand. “I’m proud of you too. You deserve all this happiness and more. Seeing you so confident and joyful is everything to me.”

As you held her close, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace. Your life was exactly where you wanted it to be. You had a fantastic girlfriend who supported and admired you, you had embraced your true self, and there was no more negativity from the past.

For the first time in a long time, you felt genuinely happy and content, knowing you were living your life authentically.

FIN

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