#i loved these books and this world so much

[avalon-of-babylon]

Elon's grandfather was actually much much worse than you or most people know.

Trigger warnings:

Racism

Antisemitism

Nazism

Technocracy

Fascism

Neo-Nazism

Before we begin you're going to need this: https://removepaywalls.com/

Joshua Norman Haldeman, the maternal grandfather of Elon Musk, has often been spoken of very positively by his grand son and in ways others would Magellan or characters like Indiana Jones. However, the truth is Elon's grandfather that he loves so much didn't just move to apartheid South Africa because he thought it was amazing, but because he saw the natives as inherently inferior beings and desired to ostensibly have slaves. Here are some exerpes from an interview he did [Archived here].

While still living in Canada, Haldeman was part of a group called "Technocracy Incorporated" which was started in the 30s and believed the entire world should be run by a totalitarian group of North American engineers and scientists who will solve all of the world's problems. Sound familiar yet?

According to the Buffalo NY newspaper in 1942 they was banned in Canada for being a "subversive group dedicated to overthrowing the government" and seemed to be an expressly fascist movement with members wearing gray uniforms, matching gray cars, use of an ancient alchemical symbol as an emblem, and a "special salute" used to greet one another.

For those bad at math 1942-10=1932 the year Hitler because vice president of Germany and the year before he became chancellor.

Haldeman is known to have published at least 2 books after moving to South Africa those being "The International Conspiracy to Establish a World Dictatorship and the Menace to South Africa" and "The International Conspiracy in Health". These books are sometimes referred to as "the nazinomicons" because until recently the only place known to have a copy was the radical literature department of a US college. By now you should be able to guess where this is going.

That's right, it's spineless antisemitism!

This man died when Elon was 3. However, his daughter, Elon's mother, is suspiciously supportive of Ukraine, so I think it's safe to throw the baby out with the bathwater on this one. She didn't have to tell Elon all about her nazi dad and mold her son into her father's ideal grandchild but she did so fuck all four of them, dad included the weird stepdaughter marrying freak.

Do not let them erase this. Do not let them tell you he meant "my heart goes out for you."

This man is the grandson of a Canadian Nazi sympathizer who moved to South Africa BECAUSE he thought the apartheid was just the coolest.

He has a gaggle of kids specifically because he believes his genes are superior and need to be spread to improve humanity.

He has thrown his support behind the neonazi party in Germany and the far right party in the UK, not to mention how far he's wormed up the ass of the Republican party.

He threw two sieg heil salutes back to back at the inauguration of the president of the United States and is trying to scrub the evidence off the internet.

Elon Reeve Musk is a fucking Nazi.

[manchestereyes]

we may not think of dan and phil as outwardly romantic, but they are deeply romantic in the smallest ways.

dan, who we know is closed off to everyone else, will ask phil if he wants a call from him while he's in the hospital. he makes a list of things phil needs to do in elden ring while they're facetiming. he'll send phil texts in their own nonsense language to check in. he'll go to the ends of the earth to stand up for phil and his intellectual property, like the 7 second challenge. he'll go skiing without phil just to see if it's something phil would enjoy. but he keeps phil in the loop the whole time.

and phil. phil. he'll bring dan in for a video after one of the hardest years of dan's life, just to cheer him up. he gives dan the space to tell their story, trusting him with all his heart because they've been in this together since 2009 and navigated their way through hell and back. he films an extra segment while editing just to reiterate how much he loves dan's book. he cries at wad because it's the culmination of everything he's seen in dan for the past 13 years and finally the world gets to see that too.

they wait for each other to wake up so they can have breakfast and watch an anime together. they'll let each other know when their favorite treats are back in stock. they make sure they don't snack too much so they can have dinner together. they've intertwined their lives so deeply that they only grew closer after spending so much time apart. i can only imagine how wonderfully secure that feels. ❤️

[natalchartnurtures]

PAC: Channeled Messages From The Person On Your Mind *Singles Edition*

Let's feed our delusions. (jk)

Pile 1: "You make me feel so good, like I'm on cloud nine. You make everything so, sooo worth it. I feel like a winner with you around... and the thing is.. you have no clue lol. I wanna win you over and show you off. You've no idea how you make me feel... you being your hot-ass self sitting there, looking so cute. I keep so much of my feelings to myself, but all I wanna do is overcome this impossible (and seemingly invisible) barrier between us! Ahhhhhh, it drives me nuts on some days, ugh!

You feel like a blessing to me. I didn't know somebody like you could exist?! Ahhhhh. I've been alone all my life, but you make me wanna not be alone anymore... it's not something I expected to feel, I have to be honest lol.

I'm not ready to come toward you right now, though. Trust me, I KNOW I must do something, but my anxiety holds me back... my limiting beliefs hold me, and I have no clue how to overcome them. I wish I could figure it out so I could BE WITH YOU ALREADY!

I'm being patient, though... with myself and with the situation between us. I keep my cards close, so you probably wouldn't even know any of this... sheesh, I don't wanna look like a fool in front of you. I'm scared you'd think less of me—it would KILL me if you did—so I keep you at arm's length.

Your presence TRIGGERS some very intense feelings inside me. I feel so exposed and vulnerable with you around, so overwhelmed, and it's not easy, you know? My heart's been broken before, and I'm afraid of getting it broken again. That's definitely a part of the fear you make me feel. I've had to be on the defense with people, especially from my past... relationships have not been easy, and so I guess I gotta work on that.

Go listen to Taylor Swift's 'Lover' anytime you miss me... that's a song I dedicate to you, sweetie, until I see you next time."

If you'd like to know more about your person's thoughts for you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

Pile 2: "GIRL, I have been going THROUGH IT, sheesh... I've been holding on for dear life 'cause lately, it feels like everything is out to get me, uk? One thing goes straight to hell after another, and I've just been so caught up with everything. You know what's been keeping me going, though? You. I've been dreaming about you most nights... I think about you when I can, to help me get through what I need to get through. The thought of you gives me strength, girlie. Every time you cross my mind, I get so weak in the knees! I look forward to every time I get to see you... (even if we live in the same house lmao!)

I feel you all around me all the time—it's lovely. I love how you make me feel... you take away my troubles, even if just for a sec. For that, I am immensely grateful!

You're not in my life right now, though... but I'm PRAYING and WISHING and HOPING that I might have a shot with you. The hope of a possibility of being with you is what makes the hard days sooo much easier. I seriously want a solid relationship with you more than anything else! (If we aren't in one already ����)

Right now, I'm getting my shit together, and I hope you'll be waiting for me on the other side, just like in my dreams. You give me hope in a hopeless world again. You're such a light to me... you don't even know it.

I'm always watching you, though... even when you don't know—ESPECIALLY when you don't notice! Haha, it's my favorite thing in the world. I think you've got the prettiest voice in the world. Gosh, I just wanna be with you, but BOY, I've got my hands tied up right now. I'm letting go and letting God decide when it's time for us to come together. You make me wanna have faith in something greater than us.

But I assure you, I'm coming for ya once I'm done figuring everything in my life. Oh, and I love you. ✨"

If you'd like to know more about your person's thoughts for you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

Pile 3: "You make me so horny. I can't even sit right when I'm around you. WHY DO YOU HAVE THIS EFFECT ON ME?! (Not that I'm complaining tbh, I love it haha). But seriously, how can someone be so goddamn hot?! How?! Jeez, I LOVE your body! I get so many 18+ thoughts—it's insane. I apologize for being so direct, but it's just what you do to me, sorry not sorry :p

You make me wanna run toward you EVERY TIME I see you! All I wanna do is be all up on you, loving you, kissing you, and hugging you. Man, it's hard to be around you and not be close to you, especially when there's other people around. I LOVE TALKING TO YOU, and I don't ever wanna stop talking to you, ugh.

You make my heart explode! I've never had feelings this deep for anybody in my life (I WISH I was kidding, jeez). You make me wanna act mature and romantic n stuff... 🙃 (Usually, I'm not like this, btw).

I wanna be where you're at, vibrationally speaking, but I've got some things I gotta take care of. I've got some old cycles I've been on—my old bs. I'm working hard on it and releasing it as we speak, and this is helping me come toward you. Might take me a while, though, ngl 👀🙄. But I'll be there before you know it, princess!

I WANT our relationship to begin between the two of us SO BAD, but I can't see how that's gonna happen yet. It feels like it's not the right time yet? Idk... it's really frustrating, though. I'm trying not to do anything stupid to sabotage our new beginning, though. I'm just going with the flow of things and listening to my intuition about our situation. Don't worry!

I see you as my forever, my one and only. I can't explain it, but I just know. You're the one for me, and honestly, it's breaking my heart that I can't actively pursue you right now since it's supposed to be 'divinely guided' 🙄 Like, Universe, could you please hurry up and get me to MY baby, ugh.

You're so beautiful, you're my goddess, my other half. I can't wait to get to you and spoil you and have a PROPER relationship with you. I hate that we can't come together and confess to each other yet... it's maddening. I know we're destined to be, but the way things are going on the surface right now, it might seem as if we're not meant to be... hell, we might not even be talking to each other or you may not even know I exist right now! But as soon as the divine gives me the green light, I'll be coming running toward you to claim you all for myself." ✨

If you'd like to know more about your person's thoughts for you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

[thetreestumptherapist]

I don't really care about the font. As long as it is easily readable for me while I am working. I started some stories in Google docs, but moved them to Microsoft Word and am considering going back for convenience sake and I haven't touched them since I moved them partly because of the default fonts. (I am aware I could change them, but I am too lazy to do so) Maybe I do care after all...

I 100% could write it by hand, and have considered it. The only reason I don't is because editing is more difficult on paper.

I haven't been writing long enough to develop a specific ritual. So maybe my lack of ritual is the real curse?

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. That and Hippopotomonstrosesqippedaliaphobia. Yes, these are spelled mostly from memory. I checked the spelling for the phobia, I did not do so for the osis.

I don't know if it's a superstition really, but your characters are alive and will 100% change the story on you and there's nothing you can do about it if you want your story to come out good and cohesive.

I have two. That I will never get it the way I like it, (I know this is an unsolvable dilemma, but it's still a fear) and that no one will like it or even see it when I publish it.

Watching my story come together. As well as coming up with a solid idea for the next part of the story.

Dialogue, because I suck at it.

I do believe in ghosts. Probably not the ghosts you're thinking of though. As a Christian I do believe spirits do things we can't see, but not quite like the stereotypical ghosts in fiction. Although they are very similar.

Depends on your definition of haunted. Haunted as in I was horrified by it? I can't think of one right now, but I am almost positive it has happened. Haunted as in hung over my head because I haven't finished it yet? Yes, my own writing has done that. As have many stories that I need to finish reading.

I am not sure what that old advice is, and I don't know that I want to. Yes, I grieve the darlings lost. I have not yet killed a darling, but I am a sucker for pain and suffering. It just has to be handled correctly. So, if I ever kill a darling, believe me, it will be felt throughout the story and your life. A darling graveyard is a wonderful idea. Thank you for the suggestion. >:)

The Lorem Ipsum is a cruel and unusual punishment. As for the wishes, gaining the ability to actually finish my work, having the dialogue come out correctly, and having the writing be less awkward. I think those would be my wishes. The ability to finish my work could possibly be replaced with the ability to come up with ideas easier, like no writer's block or something. But they are essentially the same thing.

I don't know what subject I would have difficult writing about. Again, I haven't been writing very long or a lot, so I don't have much experience with it yet. Same with easy.

My lack of physical social life does not allow for me to easily lend books to people. But I can guarantee you I would know EXACTLY who had what book, but I probably wouldn't get them back because social anxiety.

Don't do it to my books and I will tolerate your book abuse. I would love to read in the bath, but I am scared of damaging the book.

The weirdest thing I've ever used as a bookmark would probably be a post it note, or gift card maybe, if I actually used a gift card for that. I am very boring with my bookmarks...

I cannot, to save my life, think of any details to tell you that won't make it into the text. I am sorry. I world build as I write and I'm still near the beginning of the story. My dnd campain tho? That would need a whole post of it's own. 👀

"Knowing how the Sangheili felt about their swords and other people using them, she hoped that given the circumstances they would understand her desperation. She picked two of them up while thanking the Sangheili, both for joining their cause and for the sacrifice they made. Then she left the battlefield, but not before paying respects to all the fallen soldiers, human and Sangheili alike. Some simple words of gratitude spoken over the battlefield was all she had time for." This is a passage from a Halo fanfiction I am writing. The story came about because I wanted to emphasize the Sangheili's focus on Honor and Respect and how their views of humans changed during their allyship with us. The MC's name is Emira (subject to change) and respect is also a core value in her morals. She has not gotten to respectfully return the swords to the Sangheili yet, but that will happen soon. If I can figure out how she is rescued or escapes from danger. The battlefield spoken about in that passage has already been left by the conflict and is inactive when she finds it. The Sangheili she thanks are fallen soldiers, and she took the swords from beside their dead bodies. The passage did not change much during its creation.

I started writing because I love making stories up in my head, but I wanted to share them. The bumps are I always picture them as movies in my head, so turning them into words and having it come out as a well-written story is difficult. I am currently writing fanfiction and short stories, but I would like to turn one of my stories into a novel. I just haven't figured out how and I don't know if I will try to get them officially published or not.

The one true love. Life gets lonely, and they can give me emotional support while I struggle with my writing skills.

I wish I could start. 💀 I have 3 WIPs, all my first stories that I actually started writing. (I consider my dnd campaign a WIP because I am considering turning it into its own fic and it is a joy to work on) I haven't published anything and am getting very annoyed by my lack of progress on all of them.

Another reason why I haven't touched my stories for awhile is because I liked Google Docs' organization abilities better than Word's. With Docs they have tabs inside the document so you can actually have your stories separated with in the same document. Whereas with Word, at least to my knowledge, the only thing separates them is the headings. I should go back to Docs...

My couch? And an ungodly amount of clutter? I watch tv in the evenings and sometimes I decide to write while I do so. I get my computer out and have it on my lap, while I sit on the couch and watch tv, ignoring the clutter caused by my undiagnosed ADHD and complete lack of motivation to do anything related to chores...

People put prep work into their stories? Like, they get prepared to write the story? I just sit down and write whatever I can come up with if it fits my current story. Sometimes I have to tweak things so it all fits together.

I haven't come up with any irrelevant details yet. Everything must be part of the story somehow.

Given that most of my characters are based on me, yes I very much regret going into their heads and I haven't come up with a way to get back out yet. Please send help. I think I took a wrong turn back at Imagination Avenue?

I can't think of a specific character that was stressful. The most stressful situation to write though, has been the wedding reception for my (healthy) romance story. I have no idea what to do with it.

My MC for the romance story has probably been the most delightful. Either her, or Nialith Madgarb, (pronounced nye-uh-lith Mad-garb) from my DND campaign.

My brain is a cesspool for the craziest ideas. I pull inspiration from everywhere. Sometimes I wish the inspiration well WOULD run dry so I could have a moment of peace and quiet, but nay, I am doomed to an eternity of infinite ideas that I simply must run with. I am exhausted.

I have not yet written my dreams, nor dreamed my writings.

"Thank you for reading my stories. It means a lot to have people who enjoy my writing. Or are open to civil discussion about why they don't like it. I truly appreciate y'all"

Do deepfakes count? There is a series called "Master Chief teaches" and it's a bunch of videos of an ai recreation of Master Chief's voice and a script where "Master Chief" teaches you how to do stuff. In the video titled "Master Chief teaches you what to do when things go sideways" he says "adopting a solution-oriented mind helps you stay focused on what is most important during any crisis and that is taking action. Without action there is no movement, and without movement problems remain what they are" "Without movement problems remain what they are" is something I return to regularly when I start feeling overwhelmed by school, chores, etc. I could sit there and avoid the problem until it's so bad I can't anymore, or I could take action and make a move to fix the problem when I encounter it instead of sitting there overwhelmed and frozen. I recommend giving the video a watch, even if you don't play or like Halo.

I like to draw and paint (with watercolor, acrylic, and/or ink), and I have dabbled in cross-stitch, embroidery, and diamond art. I plan to draw some of the characters from my stories. I really want to paint Nialith Madgarb in my inks, but I am still working on mentally designing her character.

"Let's eat grandma"... Use the Oxford comma, people. It saves lives.

I cannot remember a single writing rule to comment on right now. If it works for your story and style, go for it. If it doesn't, yeet it into the abyss. Idk

I know an entire alphabet's worth of star wars character's and then some. This has nothing to do with my ability to write. Also, Halo 5: Guardians and Star Wars: The Force Awakens came out the same year, one in October, the other in December. Again, not related to my writing.

They wouldn't even consider me lol. And if they did, they'd think I was insane. And had severe ADHD. And they wouldn't be wrong...

My writing process is too slow and barely existing. Nothing about it is super weird except for the fact that I bounce all over the story and fill in the missing parts once I come up with a way to do so. As for the cats, they like to think they don't care about us, but they 100% do. And they would die of embarrassment if they knew we know they care.

Nothing. If I feel like giving up, I take a break until I inevitably come up with an irresistible idea on how to continue the story. Rinse and repeat.

I don't know if you mean a poem someone else wrote, or one I wrote, so I shall do both. Robert Frost's Stopping by woods on a Snowy Evening: Whose woods these are I think I know His house in the village though He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year He gives is harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake The woods are lovely, dark and deep But I have promises to keep And miles to go before I sleep And miles to go before I sleep. My poem: Where’s my Neverland?: Where’s my Neverland? I’ve got so much in my hand Meetings and school I know you do too We want an adventure But life forces expenditure Paying the bills By wasting our skills Wish I could read until 2 a.m. But, alas, an adult I am And my days are made up Of working towards a paystub I wish we were kids Lying down in our beds Looking out at the sky Where the stars are not shy People today are depressed and dismayed All the time worrying about being betrayed Worried about being laid off from work And still somehow not giving a "fork" Where is our Neverland? Where is our wish? Of fun-filled times and Mom’s favorite dish? Where’s our adventure filled with imagination and beauty? Of digging in sand to find pirate booty? The answer is simple, and yet oh so sad Those days are gone by, the best days we’ve had Those memories are all that we have Of those days made whole by a laugh But, worry not, for there’s always tomorrow So, please don’t obsess over yesterday’s sorrow Look straight ahead While lying in bed Dreaming of heaven Those days will be back soon I reckon Where sorrows will be traded for unending joy And kids in sandboxes again shout “AHOY” And we can always smell the finest of food And all work turns to play and we know that it’s good

I hope this answers all your questions and confirms that writers are in fact weird. :) And I hope the poetry was satisfactory.

Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you've always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

31. Write a short love letter to your readers.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?

37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

[elikajinnie]

HI!!! can you do the enhypen prompt 16 and 17 with jay?? thank yoouu

P: Boyfriend!Jay X Fem Reader

Warnings: Suggestive Content, Whipped!Jay, we love a man who begs

note: i had time.. so yeah :) This for all my ladies who wear lacey underwear underneath the baggy clothes ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

16. "Do you want me to beg? Because I will." 17. "One more taste, and I swear I’ll lose control."

Jay absolutely loved seeing you, no matter the occasion or what you decided to wear. It didn’t matter if it was a casual hoodie and jeans, a simple summer dress, or the formal gown you once claimed didn’t suit you—it all reminded him of how breathtakingly beautiful you were. And to Jay, there was no arguing against that fact.

He could never understand why you sometimes doubted yourself, saying things like, “I don’t feel pretty today” or “This outfit doesn’t look good on me.” To him, those words simply didn’t make sense. He saw you through a lens tinted with love and admiration, one that made every aspect of you seem flawless. Your beauty wasn’t just about how you looked; it was in the way you carried yourself, the way you laughed, the way you treated others with kindness even when you didn’t have to.

In Jay’s mind, no other woman in the world could ever compare to you. Sure, there were plenty of beautiful women out there, but they weren’t you. You were the one who made him smile just by walking into a room. You were the one who knew him better than he knew himself sometimes, who made him feel safe, valued, and loved. You were the one he’d chosen, and to him, that made you irreplaceable.

There was also a quiet possessiveness about the way he adored you. Not in a controlling or overbearing way, but in the way he took pride in calling you his girlfriend. When he introduced you to his friends or casually mentioned you in conversation, there was always a flicker of pride in his voice. Jay loved showing you off, not because he wanted others to envy him (though, secretly, he didn’t mind if they did), but because he couldn’t help being proud of the fact that you were his.

And in his heart, Jay already knew he wanted you to be more than his girlfriend one day. He often imagined the moment he would ask you to marry him, rehearsing it in his mind and wondering how you might react. He didn’t want to rush you—he’d wait for as long as it took for you to be ready to take that step. But until then, he was more than happy to call you his girlfriend. To him, the title meant everything because it meant you were his, and he was yours.

Every day spent with you was a reminder of how lucky he was, and Jay never wanted you to forget how much he cherished you. In his eyes, you weren’t just beautiful; you were the kind of special that made him believe in soulmates.

He wanted you to be his forever. The thought of waking up next to you every morning, seeing you smile at him as the sunlight filtered through the curtains, was a dream he was determined to make a reality. Jay had no secrets when it came to you. He was like an open book, willingly laying himself bare in front of you, no matter how vulnerable it made him feel.

He trusted you with every corner of his soul, even the parts of himself he once thought were too messy or complicated to share with anyone. With you, there was no hesitation. If something was weighing on his mind, he told you. If he had a silly thought or a random idea, you were the first to hear it. If he made a mistake, he admitted it without shame, knowing you would never judge him harshly.

This honesty, though, also meant that his feelings for you spilled out in the most unfiltered ways. He would often find himself confessing just how much he loved you, even in the smallest, most casual moments. You could be doing something as mundane as scrolling through your phone, and Jay would blurt out, “I love you.” He couldn’t help himself really. His emotions for you were always bubbling just beneath the surface, waiting for the slightest excuse to overflow.

But there was more to his honesty than just his love—there was his desire, too. Jay wasn’t shy about how much he was drawn to you, how you had this effortless ability to captivate him in ways no one else ever could. It was in the way his eyes lingered on you a little too long when you weren’t looking, or the way he would lean in just a little closer than necessary when you spoke.

Sometimes, his words would betray just how deeply he craved you. It wasn’t always something he could control, especially when the thought of you consumed him in the best of ways. You could feel it in the way his hands would gently brush against yours, as if he was trying to be close to you without seeming too eager, but you both knew better.

“I can’t get you out of my head,” he’d admit sometimes. It wasn’t an exaggeration. He often found himself lost in thoughts of you, even when he should have been focused on other things. He would catch himself daydreaming, imagining the soft curve of your smile or the way you looked when you were nestled against him, your head resting on his chest.

Jay was always ready to voice what was on his mind, he wasn’t one to hide his thoughts, especially when it came to you. He didn’t even try to filter his reactions, which made everything he said feel honest.

You had just finished drying your hair after stepping out of the shower, the warmth of the dryer against your skin leaving a pleasant feeling while the bathroom smelled of the shampoo you liked. You stood in your simple, comfortable clothes, the fabric of your loose clothes falling over your skin, paired with a pair of lace underwear that you had bought on your birthday months ago.

It had been tucked away in the back of your closet, forgotten until now. You had never gotten the chance to wear it before, so when you found it still in its bag, the tag untouched, you decided today was the day. You had ripped the tag off without hesitation, and slipped it on, and now you found yourself rediscovering exactly why you had bought it. The way it felt against your skin, the way it hugged your curves, and the way it made you feel undeniably feminine—it was all so perfect.

You stood there for a moment, lost in your own thoughts, admiring the way it made you feel. But you were quickly pulled from your thoughts by the sudden knock on the bathroom door. “Are you finished in there?” Jay’s voice called out.

You quickly turned off the blow dryer and put it away, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face as you made your way to the door. You opened it to find Jay standing there with a laundry basket in his arms, his usual smile gracing his face. But when his eyes met yours, they flickered down for a brief second and up. Then, in a split second, they darted downwards again, clearly noticing the lace peeking out from under your clothes.

For a split second, he didn’t react—his eyes widened, and you could see him processing the sight in front of him, almost as if his brain couldn’t quite catch up with his eyes. His gaze lingered for a moment too long, and it was impossible not to notice the way his expression shifted slowly. His lips parted slightly, his breath catching as his eyes darted back up to yours, now a little more intense.

“Is that... lace?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper, like the question wasn’t one of curiosity, but more of surprise.

You could see his mind working, his thoughts clearly running wild as he took in the sight of you standing there. He swallowed hard, and for a moment, you both just stood there.

It wasn’t often that you saw Jay lose a bit of his usual composure, but now, his hands tightened around the laundry basket, his knuckles white as he tried to remain cool.

“You know,” he finally spoke again, his voice slightly more strained than before, “I was going to help with laundry, but I think I need a moment.” He was trying to regain some composure, but the way his eyes never left you made it clear that the sight of you had ignited something he couldn’t easily ignore.

Jay placed the laundry basket down slowly, the sound of it hitting the floor almost too loud in the silence that hung between you both. His eyes never left you, and his body seemed to move on its own, drawn to you like a magnet.

Without a word, his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer until his body was pressed against yours. The sudden closeness made your breath hitch, as his hands trailed around your waist, fingers grazing the fabric of the lace, the sensation sending a wave of warmth across your skin.

“God…” Jay groaned, the sound low and strained as his fingers gently ran along the edge of the lace, tracing the delicate pattern against your skin. His touch was tender and slow, as if he wanted to savor every second of feeling the lace beneath his fingertips.

You could see the struggle in his eyes, the way he fought to hold back, but there was no mistaking the desire that pulsed in him. “You’re killing me right now,” he murmured, his voice thick with longing. The words came out almost like a confession, so unfiltered, as if he couldn’t hide what he was feeling any longer. His breath was warm against your ear as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the side of your neck, the feeling sending a shiver down your spine.

His hands moved down, caressing the lace at your hips before pulling you even closer. The way his body responded to the touch, the way his groan escaped him, it all showed just how much he wanted you. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

Unable to resist, Jay leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was gentle at first, testing, exploring. But it didn’t stay gentle for long. The kiss deepened as he lost a bit of his composure, his hands gripping you more firmly, pulling you closer to him. The heat between you both surged, and you kissed him back just as eagerly, matching his intensity.

Jay guided you across the bedroom, your bodies moving together in sync. He broke the kiss for just a moment, his breath ragged as he led you toward the full-length mirror at the foot of the bed. As he spun you around, the sudden shift in perspective made your heart flutter. Now, you were facing the mirror, your reflection staring back at you, and Jay stood behind you, holding you close, his chest pressed against your back.

For a moment, you both just stood there, breathing in sync, before Jay’s lips found your shoulder, kissing it softly while his hands slid to your waist, holding you tight as he whispered sweet compliments in your ear. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his lips brushing your skin as he continued to kiss along your neck. “So incredible... everything about you…”

You tried to glance away from the mirror, feeling suddenly self-conscious, but Jay wasn’t having it. His fingers gently but firmly grabbed your jaw, guiding your face back so that your eyes met your reflection once more. You could feel the intensity of his gaze as he held you there, making you face yourself again.

“Look at yourself,” he whispered, “don’t look away.” His words were like a command that made it impossible to do anything but meet your own gaze. His hand remained firm on your jaw, gently guiding you while his other arm stayed wrapped around your waist, holding you securely against him. “You see what I see?” he muttered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his breath warm. “Do you see how beautiful you are?”

Your reflection stared back at you, and though you felt shy under his attention, there was something about the way he held you that made you feel secure. The way his hands moved—one tracing lazy, gentle patterns at your waist while the other stayed steady at your jaw—was grounding.

He dipped his head again, pressing his lips to your neck, just below your ear, lingering there as though savoring the moment. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and his grip on you tightened slightly. “Every part of you,” he whispered, his voice filled with affection, “is perfect.”

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching as you tried to process his words, his touch, and the way his gaze flicked up to meet yours in the mirror.

Jay’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling against your back as his lips trailed along your neck. The delicate lace seemed to have an almost visceral effect on him, his hands roaming your waist and hips. His fingers brushed against the lace, as if he couldn’t stop himself from feeling it again, marveling at the way it clung to your skin.

“This…” he murmured, his voice rough, nearly a growl, as his hand traced the hemline of the fabric. “You have no idea what this is doing to me.” He paused to take a deep, shuddering breath, his lips brushing against your ear. “You look so—God, I can’t even think straight.”

You couldn’t help but let a soft laugh escape you, the sound teasing in its lightness. “You really like lace that much?” you asked playfully, though you knew full well by the way he was reacting.

Jay groaned, his hand tightening slightly at your waist as he pressed a kiss to the curve of your shoulder. “Like is an understatement,” he said, his tone low and almost desperate. His lips hovered near your ear again, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with so much intensity that it made your heart skip a beat. “You have to wear more of it. All the time. For me.”

His bluntness made you smile, and you couldn’t resist teasing him further. “Oh? Are you saying I should go shopping for more lace?” you asked, turning your head slightly to glance at him, your tone light and filled with playful mischief.

Jay groaned again, his head dropping against your shoulder for a moment as if your teasing was physically affecting him. “Don’t play with me,” he muttered, his voice strained. “Do you want me to beg?” His voice was shaky now, his desperation seeping into every word. He pressed another kiss to your neck before continuing, his voice barely above a growl. “Because I will. I’ll beg if that’s what it takes. Just—please, wear more of this, want more of it.”

You couldn’t help the way your smile widened at his reaction, the teasing in your expression making his jaw tighten. “Jay,” you said, feigning an innocent tone, “you’re really going to beg for me to wear more lace?”

His breath hitched, and his hands moved to grip your hips more firmly. “Don’t tempt me,” he warned, though there was no real bite to his words. His forehead pressed against the back of your head for a moment before he groaned once more, almost as if he was fighting to keep control.

“I’ll do it,” he muttered, his voice low but filled with conviction. “If it means I get to see you like this every day, I’ll fill your closet with lace. Every color, every design—you’ll have so much, you’ll never wear anything else.”

You turned slightly, your smile softening as you reached up to touch his cheek, your fingers brushing against his skin. His eyes met yours in the mirror, filled with so much love that it almost overwhelmed you.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that much lace,” you said, but your tone was softer now, playful without being dismissive.

“Try me,” he challenged you, “I’ll prove it. I’ll make it happen. Just say the word.”

Jay would do anything to show you just how much he adored you, and if it meant filling your wardrobe with lace to see you smile—and to indulge his newfound obsession—he would gladly do it, no hesitation.

.....

And he did do it. After that day, it was as though a switch had flipped in Jay. He started bringing home lace in every imaginable color and design—soft pastels, bold blacks, rich jewel tones, delicate florals. Every type he could find was soon tucked away in your closet. It was thoughtful, sweet even, a little peek into how deeply he cared about you. But his reaction every time you wore it? That was something else entirely.

You weren’t used to seeing him like this, so utterly undone, so out of touch with his usual composed demeanor. But you couldn’t deny how much you loved it. You loved the way he folded for you, how a single glimpse of white lace beneath your clothes could derail him completely. Oh, you had him hooked. So much so that every time you wore it, his eyes would darken, his breaths would hitch, and whatever train of thought he had? Gone, like it had never existed.

Lace was his weakness, yes. But lace on you? He was gone—reduced to a pleading man, desperate for just one look, just one touch. And when you finally gave him permission, the transformation was instant. His hands would tremble slightly as they reached for you, his lips brushing reverently over the fabric like it was sacred.

“One more taste,” he’d whisper, his voice rough with need, “and I swear I’ll lose control.”

But the truth? He’d already lost control. The moment his fingers skimmed the lace against your skin, he was a goner. You saw it in the way he looked at you, like nothing else in the world mattered but you in that moment. His touches grew hungrier, his kisses turned sloppy and uncoordinated. And the marks? Oh, you had plenty. They were proof of just how completely he surrendered himself to you, his passion for you spilling over in ways he could hardly contain. Jay never held back when it came to you, and the lace only seemed to amplify that desire.

It wasn’t just about how beautiful you looked in it, though that played a part. No, it was the way you made it look—how effortlessly you wore it, how it became a part of your natural allure. He was mesmerized by you, completely at your mercy, and he didn’t care one bit.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he’d groan, his voice shaky as he traced the edges of the fabric with his fingertips. And maybe you didn’t. Maybe you didn’t realize just how thoroughly you owned him. But every time he dropped to his knees for you, every time he lost himself completely in the feel of you, the sight of you, the essence of you—you were reminded of just how deep his devotion ran.

Jay was yours in every way, and he wasn’t ashamed to show it. Especially when you wore lace.

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[thebunnednun]

Not On My Watch!

Pairing: Aged up!ProHero!Husband!Katsuki Bakugou x Pro hero!Wife!Reader

Warning: MDNI!!! Extreme Spice 18+, Wc: 20K+, No ageless blogs!

Synopsis: Katsuki can't sit still after seeing a video of you, his WIFE, getting her feet massaged by another man.

Tw: Sweet then spicy, lots of making out, pet names smut, free use, slight body worship, unprotected vaginal sex, oral, sexy slave mention, (both f! & m! recieving/giving), vaginal fingering, pussy play, multiple orgasms (both), ass play, groping, biting, creampie, dumbification, slight breeding mention, predictor and prey, anal, spanking, petnames - mdni (like my whole tumblr), cursing, dirty talk, care and love is given.

You've been warned.

When I say aged up I mean mid 20's early thirties.

Inspired by this short, Give her some love too plz, she's so funny<3

Read the note below afterwards. Lets get into it.

Morning sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the bedroom. You stirred slowly, the warmth of the covers cocooning you in a comforting embrace. As you blinked away the remnants of sleep, you became aware of the quiet hum of the world outside. Stretching lazily, your hand reached out to the other side of the bed—only to find it empty.

A small, knowing smile crept onto your lips.

The sheets were cool to the touch, a clear sign that Katsuki had left early. Yet, the faint scent of his caramel lingered in the air, and you were certain you’d been given a kiss goodbye before he slipped out for his shift. It was just like him to leave quietly, not wanting to disturb your much-needed rest after the rough night you’d had.

You and Katsuki have been married for just shy of a year, a whirlwind romance culminating in a partnership that felt as natural as breathing. Life as a pro hero was demanding, but the rough shift you had last night was enough to leave you craving a bit of solace and pampering. Your body ached in places you’d forgotten could ache, and your mind was still clouded with the remnants of exhaustion. 

Glancing around the room, your gaze drifting over the familiar details that made up your shared space. The nightstand on his side held a few scattered items. His phone charger, a half-empty bottle of water, and the book you'd convinced him to start reading—though he'd grumbled about it, he was already five chapters in. On your side, a small vase of fresh flowers brightened the room, a surprise Katsuki had brought home just days ago.

The bedroom was a reflection of your life together—simple yet filled with thoughtful touches. The neutral tones of the bedding were offset by pops of color from the pillows and the soft throw blanket draped over the chair in the corner. The faintest scent of lemons drifted from the open window, mingling with the crisp, clean air of the early day.

You sighed contentedly, sinking back into the pillows for a moment longer. The day stretched ahead, filled with the promise of relaxation and self-care. You fumbled around the sheets for a moment before finding and scrolling through your phone. The girls had recommended a new nail salon that recently opened downtown, promising it was the perfect place to unwind. It sounded like exactly what you needed. With a few quick taps, you shot a text to Katsuki.

Princess Peach: I’m heading to the new nail salon the girls told me about. It's my day off, so I'll meet you after your shift. I love you!

You leaned back against the pillows, waiting for his reply. It didn’t take long.

Teddy Bear: Fine with me. Send the amount when you’re close to done. 

Teddy Bear: Love you too.

A soft smile tugged at your lips. Even through the screen, his gruffness had a way of making you feel cared for. You could practically hear the way his voice softened just at the end, a rare tenderness he reserved only for you. You stretched languidly under the plush covers, the scent of fresh sheets wafting through the air, mingling with the faint aroma of a hearty breakfast. 

The soft cocoon of the bed beckoned you to stay, but the promise of a new day lured you from its embrace. Stretching luxuriously, you swung your legs over the edge, a smile curling on your lips as your eyes landed on the familiar pair below—your favorite bunny slippers, perfectly placed right where Katsuki knew your feet would touch the floor. The sight of them warmed your heart, a simple yet thoughtful gesture that never failed to remind you of his care.

Slipping your feet into the plush slippers, you padded across the room, the cool hardwood floor transitioning to the soft rug beneath your toes. You reached for your robe—a cherry red one that you loved—draped neatly over the armchair by the window. Wrapping it snugly around yourself, you headed towards the bathroom, the early morning light spilling in through the windows casting a gentle glow across the room.

The bathroom mirrored the tranquil elegance of the bedroom, with its sleek marble countertops and soft, ambient lighting. You grabbed your toothbrush, applying a dab of minty toothpaste before brushing your teeth. The refreshing burst of mint awakened your senses, each stroke a familiar routine preparing you for the day ahead.

Finished, you made your way down the hallway, the sound of your slippers muffled against the polished wood floors. The house was a sanctuary of calm and order, and as you moved through it, the faint scent of caramel and lemons drifted through the air, a delightful blend that made you breathe deeply, savoring the homey aroma.

Descending the luxury staircase, each step a smooth glide, you were greeted by the sight of your home sparkling clean, every surface gleaming under the morning sun. It was as if the house itself had been rejuvenated overnight. You reached the bottom of the stairs and turned left, stepping into the large living room. The space was a testament to your combined tastes, a harmonious blend of comfort and style.

Every detail had been meticulously curated. The soft, oversized couches adorned with plush throw pillows in your favorite shades; the coffee table, a sleek bookshelf holding a few well-loved novels and a vase of fresh flowers; the walls lined with art pieces and pictures that shared stories of your adventures together. The curtains and blinds had been drawn open, allowing the sunlight to pour in through every window, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. The light danced across the floor, creating shifting patterns that added an almost ethereal beauty to the scene.

You took a moment to bask in the tranquility, the serene atmosphere filling you with a sense of gratitude. It was in these quiet moments, surrounded by the love and care that filled your home, that you felt truly at peace.

Leaving the living room, you made your way to the heart of the house: Suki’s kitchen. This space, unlike the others, was a reflection of Katsuki’s meticulous tastes. Every element, from the colors to the layout, bore his signature style and passion for precision.

The kitchen was a modern marvel of design and functionality. The counters were crafted from sleek black and white marble, their polished surfaces gleaming under the soft glow of the high ceiling lights you had insisted upon—strategically placed to prevent anyone from bumping their head. The deep oak wood cabinets, a rich contrast against the lighter counters, lined the walls, offering ample storage space while adding a touch of rustic warmth.

Appliances gleamed in their stainless steel glory, each one carefully chosen for its efficiency and aesthetic appeal. There were double ovens built seamlessly into the wall, perfect for Katsuki’s ambitious culinary endeavors. Two large sinks sat on opposite ends of the room, each with a state-of-the-art faucet, allowing for the kind of multitasking that your husband thrived on. Off to the side, a pre-kitchen area was tucked away, an extension for more intricate prep work or storing additional cookware.

The pantry was a thing of beauty, fully stocked and alphabetized, a testament to Katsuki’s need for order. Every item had its place, and the fridge—oh, the fridge—was a sleek, modern design that allowed you to see inside without opening it, displaying its contents like a prized collection. It was stocked to perfection, everything arranged just so, with little notes stuck here and there, a system you both found oddly satisfying.

As you moved through the kitchen, you couldn’t help but remember the construction phase. The flurry of contractors and delivery teams bustling about, bringing in appliances and asking a stream of questions. Each time, you’d simply pointed to your scowling husband, letting them know it was his call. His initial gruffness was often met with hesitation, but you knew better. He might have stomped around, inspecting every detail with a critical eye, grumbling under his breath, but you stayed by his side. Your presence eased his social anxiety, allowing him to communicate on creating the space he had envisioned.

He was your gremlin, your wonderfully stubborn, exacting gremlin, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Every detail of this kitchen was a testament to his love for perfection, and standing here now, in the heart of your home, you felt a wave of affection for the man who had poured his heart into making this space a sanctuary. A small smile played on your lips as you noticed the neat plate left on the stove, a thoughtful note from Katsuki propped up against the fridge.

Use the toaster oven to reheat your food so it doesn’t ruin the taste. See you soon. - K

You chuckled softly, your fingers tracing over the words before you reached for the plate. Despite Katsuki’s well-meaning instructions, you decided to eat the food lukewarm, not wanting to lose the initial burst of flavor. A little mischievous smirk tugged at your lips as you purposefully smudged a bit of syrup on the microwave door,(The very one you had to fight tooth and nail for!) Knowing he would sense something amiss in this kitchen before he even stepped through the door and would get worked up until he realized what happened. 

Breakfast satisfied and your mind already envisioning the day ahead, you sauntered back up the stairs and into the bathroom. The warm water cascaded over your body, washing away the remnants of fatigue from the previous night's shift. You reveled in the tranquility, the gentle hum of the water a soothing backdrop to your thoughts.

Wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel, you padded over to the walk-in closet, your eyes lighting up at the sight of your favorite two-piece sweat suit. The soft fabric hugged you comfortably, a perfect blend of style and ease. You grabbed your purse, the anticipation of a pampering session at the new nail salon buzzing in your veins.

Today was your day, and you were ready to indulge in it fully.

You grabbed your Juicy Couture purse from its spot by the door, the soft leather gleaming under the light as you slung it over your shoulder. A moment of contemplation followed as you pondered which car to take—your sleek options lined up in the garage, a reflection of both yours and Katsuki's tastes. With a playful smile, you decided on the pearl white BMW, its elegant curves and smooth handling making it the perfect choice for the day.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, you reveled in the luxurious feel of the leather against your skin, the familiar hum of the engine purring to life beneath your fingers. The drive to your favorite café was quick and leisurely, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the streets. You pulled into the drive-thru, placing your order with a smile, and soon enough, a perfectly crafted drink was in your hands, the aroma rich and inviting.

With your drink in the cup holder, you headed toward the upscale salon and mall area, finding a convenient spot in the parking lot. Leaning back in your seat, you sipped your drink leisurely, the peaceful ambiance of the morning settling over you. The salon, with its chic exterior and promise of indulgence, awaited just beyond. Savoring the last few moments of quiet, you allowed yourself to relax fully, the anticipation of the pampering session making the day feel all the more luxurious.

Omg, the girls weren’t lying. 

The salon was a haven of tranquility, a serene escape from the relentless pace of hero duties—a sanctuary where the burdens of the day could be set aside, even if just for a while. As you stepped inside, the soothing scent of lavender and chamomile wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, instantly easing the tension in your shoulders. The interior exuded understated elegance, with soft, muted tones that created a calming atmosphere. The decor was a harmonious blend of chic and cozy, featuring pastel walls, plush chairs, and ambient lighting that bathed the room in a soft, inviting glow. Every detail was thoughtfully curated to evoke a sense of peace and relaxation.

A warm smile from the receptionist greeted you, and soon you were escorted to a luxurious chair. As you sank into the plush seat, a technician approached with a menu of beverages. You selected a refreshing iced cherry soda, the vibrant hot pink drink a perfect complement to the tranquil surroundings. The cool, sweet flavor was a delightful contrast to the warmth of the spa treatments awaiting you, a sensory experience that promised rejuvenation.

Settling in, you allowed yourself to be enveloped by the calm ambiance. The gentle hum of quiet conversations and soft music provided a soothing backdrop as you prepared to indulge in this well-deserved moment of self-care.

The experience was nothing short of divine. The nail technician's gentle hands worked wonders, massaging your tired fingers and shaping your nails with meticulous care. You found yourself recording snippets of the process, a habit born from those middle school days when you and Denki had decided to try your hand at becoming influencers. Despite the demanding life of a pro hero, you still cherished these moments of creativity, sharing slices of your life with a loyal following.

The soft hum of conversation, the soothing music, and the indulgence of the pampering session left you in a state of bliss. You felt rejuvenated, every muscle relaxed, and a newfound energy coursing through your veins.

As you shifted to the pedicure station, you were greeted by a young man with a friendly smile. His easy demeanor put you at ease as you settled into the comfortable chair. When you asked for a cute French tip, he nodded confidently, assuring you he could handle it. You leaned back, savoring the calm atmosphere, a book open in your lap as he got to work.

The salon was mostly empty, allowing for a tranquil silence to settle over the space. You alternated between reading and capturing small moments on your phone, careful not to distract the young man too much. His focus was intense, and his movements were precise, a testament to his skill.

However, it wasn’t long before you noticed something… different. 

His hands moved with expert precision, but the way he was massaging your feet felt more akin to a deep tissue massage than a standard pedicure. His fingers pressed into the arches of your feet, kneading away tension you hadn’t realized you were carrying. The strength in his grip was undeniable, and you could see the muscles in his forearms flexing beneath his company t-shirt as he worked with dedication.

A blush crept up your neck, and you quickly switched your phone’s camera to record your reaction. Your face, caught between flustered and perplexed, filled the screen. You tried to keep your expression neutral, but the slight widening of your eyes and the subtle twitch of your lips betrayed your surprise.

"Y’all, why is this man rubbing my feet like I don’t have a husband!"

Is what you captioned the video with a playful smirk before sending it off to the girls' group chat, hoping to share the humorous moment with your friends. With a sigh, you set your phone aside and tried to focus on your book, determined to relax despite the unexpectedly thorough massage.

What you didn’t realize, however, was that in your haste, you had accidentally sent the video to Katsuki.

Who, unbeknownst to you, was just finishing up his morning shift. 

The locker room buzzed with the usual post-training banter, laughter echoing off the walls as the group of friends wrapped up their routines. Katsuki was methodically stowing his gear, his face set in a determined scowl as he prepared to clock out for his half-day. The hum of casual conversation filled the space, Denki lounging nearby with Katsuki's phone in hand as he played Crossy road.

A notification lit up Katsuki’s screen, and Denki, ever the curious one, leaned over his chair with a sly grin. "Hey, man, that’s from your wife!" Denki said, his eyes gleaming with intrigue as he caught a glimpse of the video thumbnail.

Sero and Mina, not ones to miss out on the fun, sidled up next to Denki. "Oooo," they chorused teasingly, exchanging grins as Mina leaned closer to get a better look. Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, slamming his locker door shut with a decisive clang.

"Don’t be weird," Katsuki growled, his voice low and edged with annoyance. 

His sharp eyes narrowed as Kami opened the message, the video playing in his hand. The sight of the young man’s hands on your feet, combined with your flustered expression and teasing caption, sent a surge of possessiveness through him.

Katsuki’s lips curled into a familiar scowl, the kind that sent shivers down the spines of villains. The familiar itch to protect and assert making his steps quicker as he made his way out. He knew you were at the salon, enjoying your day off, but now he had a sudden, burning need to make his presence known.

He grabbed his phone and shoved it back into his pocket, but not before Denki pulled his own phone out and made quick work of showing the video to Mina.

She squealed in delight, her eyes lighting up with recognition. "She’s at that salon! The one we recommended to her!" Mina said, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.

Kirishima, who had been tying his shoes nearby, perked up at the mention. "Do they do pedicures?" he asked, his tone curious. He caught the raised eyebrow from Sero and held up his hands defensively. 

"Hey, good foot hygiene is important for men too!"

Sero snickered, but nodded in agreement. "You got a point."

Katsuki, meanwhile, was grumbling under his breath, his patience thinning with each passing second. The thought of someone else touching you, coupled with the playful video you’d sent, made his protective instincts flare.

"Mina, where’s the salon?" he demanded, his voice sharp and urgent.

Denki, ever helpful, fished out the name from the video you’d posted on your story before she could ask why. He sent it over without missing a beat, the group watching with mild amusement as Katsuki’s scowl deepened.

"I’ll see you all tomorrow," Katsuki barked, his tone leaving no room for discussion as he turned on his heel and strode out of the locker room. Kirishima’s brows shot up, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Whoa. He never says goodbye like that," he remarked, glancing at the others.

Sero crossed his arms, a thoughtful look on his face. "Something serious must be happening," he mused, nodding toward the door Katsuki had just stormed through. Mina clasped her hands together, her grin mischievous. "Whatever it is, you know Bakugo’s gonna handle it in his own way." Denki snickered, slinging an arm around Kirishima’s shoulders. "Guess we’ll find out tomorrow. Hope the salon survives Katsuki’s visit."

“Maybe he’s finally gonna take care of those dogs of his.”

“Es un animal con ropa puesta.”

The group shared a laugh, each one picturing the storm that was sure to unfold with Katsuki on a mission.

—

The hum of the salon was soothing, a gentle rhythm of soft chatter and the occasional clink of tools as the nail technicians worked their magic.

You were reclining comfortably, your attention drifting between the subtle aroma of the lavender-scented air and the meticulous artistry unfolding before you. The young nail technician was expertly applying a baby pink French tip to your nails, each stroke so precise it felt as if he’d spent a lifetime mastering the craft. A small crowd of other technicians gathered nearby, watching with quiet admiration as he worked.

You were mid-way through admiring his steady hand when the faint chime of the doorbell caught your ear. At first, it barely registered, your focus lingering on the soft curves of the polish being applied. But then, the unmistakable sound of heavy boots hitting the tiled floor reverberated through the salon, and a shift in the atmosphere had you glancing up.

There, framed in the doorway, stood your husband, Katsuki Bakugo, in all his formidable glory. His sharp gaze, intense and unwavering, locked onto you instantly. The tight grey T-shirt stretched over his sculpted frame and dark grey jeans—no doubt a product of Best Jeanist's influence—fit him perfectly, accentuating his powerful build. A black jacket thrown over his shoulders completed the look, giving him an effortlessly cool demeanor. His expression, however, was anything but relaxed.

Your heart skipped a beat as you waved at him, a warm smile lighting up your face. "Hi, pookie!" you called out, your voice sweet and affectionate.

"Hi," Katsuki grumbled, his deep voice softened only slightly as his eyes remained fixed on you. He spared a brief glance at the young nail technician, whose confusion was evident as he turned to face the towering figure now standing behind him. The technician quickly returned to his work, muttering something about the session being almost done and how it was a pleasure working with you.

You thanked him for the lovely design, your eyes twinkling with appreciation before turning back to Katsuki, a pout forming on your lips. "Come here," you beckoned, wondering why you hadn’t yet been wrapped in one of his warm, grounding embraces.

Katsuki didn’t hesitate. In a few swift strides, he was by your side, his arms encircling you as he leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, fervent kiss. The world seemed to blur at the edges, your book, Juicy Couture purse, and phone almost slipping from your grasp as his intensity overwhelmed you. His lips were demanding yet tender, drawing out a soft sigh from you before he pulled back just enough to plant two more kisses on your now-flushed lips.

His hand smoothed over your hair, his touch gentle and grounding. "Ya wanna get your hair done too while I hit the grocery store?" he asked, his voice gruff but laced with a softer undertone meant only for you.

You blinked up at him, nodding slowly. "Do you have a specific style in mind?" you asked, curious about his sudden suggestion.

Katsuki shrugged, his thumb brushing along your cheek. "I love your natural hair. If ya wanna go for that, do it. But if yer thinking about something different, go for it." His tone was casual, but the sincerity in his words made your heart swell.

You chuckled softly, recounting that the two of you had an event later in the week. "Maybe I should get a blowout," you mused, already imagining the sleek, polished look.

Without a word, Katsuki pulled a thick wad of cash from his pocket and slipped it into your purse, his actions swift and without fanfare. "Get whatever ya want," he said simply, his crimson eyes filled with a mixture of affection and determination as he settled into a nearby chair, crossing his arms as if staking his claim on the moment.

You smiled, a warmth spreading through you as you savored his gesture. Katsuki had a way of making you feel cherished and understood, even in the simplest acts. The salon might have been an oasis of calm, but with him there, 

It felt like home.

The nail technician returned with a bottle of lotion, his demeanor professional yet gentle as he began applying it to your feet and legs. The soothing motions were a balm for your tired muscles, and you sighed softly, leaning back into the plush chair. Your slightly rolled-up pants exposed just enough for the technician to work efficiently, but the moment Katsuki’s eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened, you knew things were about to change.

Katsuki shifted in his seat, his gaze locked on the young man’s hands as they moved over your skin. His fists clenched, the tension radiating from him like an impending storm. Finally, he stood, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the technician, who glanced up in surprise.

“Move,” Katsuki ordered, his voice low but unmistakably firm. He didn’t give the younger man time to argue or even process the command before reaching for the bottle of lotion himself.

The nail tech stepped back, his face flushed with a mixture of confusion and embarrassment. He mumbled a quick, “Of course,” before retreating a few steps, his eyes darting nervously between you and Katsuki.

Your face heated up as well, caught between amusement and mortification as Katsuki squirted some lotion into his hands, his movements precise and purposeful.

He knelt in front of you, carefully lifting your foot onto his knee, your leg almost touching his clothed chest, and began massaging the lotion into your skin with a familiarity and expertise that only he possessed. His fingers worked magic, kneading away the stress and tension with firm but tender strokes. His ears turned a deep red, betraying his effort to maintain a stoic facade, and he resolutely avoided meeting your gaze.

You bite your lip, your heart pounding in your chest as his touch sends waves of warmth through you. 

Katsuki was thorough, his concentration evident as he ensured every inch of your foot and leg was cared for, before moving to the other leg. His broad hands made the task seem effortless, and yet you could see the faint tension in his shoulders as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

When he finished, Katsuki reached for the little foam flip-flops, placing them delicately on the floor. He gathered your book, purse, and phone, his actions smooth and efficient. Then, with a gentleness that contrasted with his earlier intensity, he took both of your hands in his, helping you to your feet and guiding you into the flip-flops.

He handed you your belongings momentarily before excusing himself to wash his hands at the nearby sink. You stood there, still somewhat dazed, before turning to the young nail tech with a smile. Digging into your purse, you pulled out a $25 tip, handing it to him with a sincere thank you. He bowed deeply, his face still tinged with color as he expressed his gratitude.

You waddled over to the reception desk, the soft padding of the flip-flops muffling your steps. The receptionist greeted you with a warm smile, and just as you were about to pull out your wallet, Katsuki was there, his platinum black card already in hand. He passed it to the receptionist with a quiet, “Here,” and added a $10 tip to her as well. You smiled, pulling out another $30 to tip the first nail tech before expressing your thanks for the excellent service.

As the receptionist and technicians wished you a good day, you turned to find Katsuki already holding the door open, his gaze softening as he reached for your purse and book. You handed them over without hesitation, your heart fluttering at the small, protective gestures that were so uniquely him.

Before you could take another step, Katsuki scooped you up effortlessly, one arm beneath your knees and the other supporting your back. He held you close, his familiar warmth seeping into you as he stepped outside into the crisp early afternoon air. His stride was purposeful, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection as he carried you toward the car, every bit the overprotective, loving husband you adored.

As Katsuki carried you towards the car, he maneuvered effortlessly, balancing you with one arm as he reached for the passenger door handle with the other. The door swung open, but before he could set you down, your hands found their way to his head, fingers threading through his ash-blond hair in that tender, familiar way only you could manage.

Your soft touch was magic against his scalp, a soothing caress that sent waves of warmth radiating through his body. Katsuki felt the tingles ripple along his nerves, the sensation making his breath hitch as his knees threatened to buckle under the blissful spell you wove. His face, pressed against your tummy for a fleeting moment, grew hot, a telltale flush that you felt even through the fabric of your clothes.

Carefully, he placed you inside the car, the motion deliberate as he tucked you into the seat, his hands lingering just a second longer than necessary. You felt the heat emanating from him, a gentle reminder of his vulnerability in your presence. He leaned over to buckle your seatbelt, his fingers brushing against you with the lightest touch.

You cupped his face, his skin warm beneath your palms, and leaned in, brushing your nose against his in a soft Eskimo kiss. Katsuki closed his eyes, leaning into the tender gesture, returning it with a gentleness that made your heart ache in the best way. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes before making his way around the car to the driver’s seat.

As he slid into his seat, you seized the moment, quickly applying a layer of your favorite strawberry lip gloss. The sweet scent filled the air as you prepped yourself for what you knew was coming. The instant he buckled in, you pounced.

Your hands cupped his cheeks, pulling him into a deep, fervent kiss that left him momentarily stunned. Katsuki’s eyes widened in surprise at your sudden burst of strength and passion, but he quickly melted into it, his lips moving against yours with an equal hunger. He let out a low, muffled sound of approval, his hands finding your waist as he unbuckled your seatbelt, giving you the freedom to shift closer.

You moved fluidly, swinging a leg over to straddle him, your knees resting on either side of his hips as you settled into his lap. His hands roamed, tracing the curve of your back and gripping your waist firmly, as if grounding himself in the moment. You could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your chest, syncing with your own as the kiss deepened, both of you lost in the electrifying connection.

Katsuki leaned back into the seat, pulling you with him, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted his head to better meet your lips. His breath was hot against your skin, mingling with the faint taste of strawberry from your gloss. You felt his muscles tense beneath your touch, a subtle reminder of the strength he held, though in this moment, he seemed entirely at your mercy.

Fucking delicious. 

The world outside the car faded away, leaving only the cocoon of intimacy you shared, every kiss, every touch a testament to the deep bond between you.

Katsuki’s grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into your sides with a possessive fervor that sent a thrill shooting through your body. His lips moved with urgency now, a heady mix of passion and need, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Your hands, still cradling his face, slid down to his shoulders, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt, a reminder of the raw power he carried so effortlessly.

You arched your lower back, pressing yourself closer, eliciting a low growl from deep within his chest. The sound vibrated against your skin, stirring something primal within you. Katsuki's hands roamed lower, one slipping under the hem of your shirt to splay across the bare skin of your lower back, his touch hot and electric. He pulled you even closer, his breath coming in ragged gasps between fervent kisses.

The intensity grew as you shifted in his lap, your hips rocking against him, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Katsuki. His hands roamed freely now, one sliding up to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he gazed at you with a heat that made your heart race. The other hand slipped lower, gripping your thigh with a firmness that sent a shiver down your spine.

"You’re driving me crazy," he murmured against your lips, his voice husky, laced with desire. The raw honesty in his words ignited something fierce within you, your body responding instinctively as you leaned in to capture his lips once more, your kiss deeper, more demanding.

“I know!~”

Katsuki shifts beneath you, his hands sliding under your thighs as he lifts you slightly, adjusting your position to press you against him even more intimately. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his heart pounding in time with yours, the air between you thick with unspoken need.

Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging gently, and he groans, the sound low and primal, sending a ripple of excitement through you. He nipped at your bottom lip, his teeth grazing just enough to send a delicious jolt of sensation, before soothing the spot with a gentle flick of his tongue. The contrast was intoxicating, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

"Goddamn, baby, you’re perfect," he whispered, his lips trailing along your jawline, down to the sensitive spot just below your ear. You gasped, your body arching into his touch, every nerve ending alight with sensation. His hands moved again, this time slipping under your shirt, his fingertips tracing the curve of your spine, sending shivers cascading down your body.

"Suki," you breathed, your voice trembling with a mixture of need and anticipation. His name on your lips was all the encouragement he needed as he claimed your mouth once more, the kiss deep and consuming, as if he wanted to devour every inch of you. His hands explored with a confidence and familiarity that left you dizzy, your body responding to his touch as if it were second nature.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. It was just you and Katsuki, lost in each other, the world outside forgotten as the heat between you intensified, leaving you both breathless and utterly consumed.

So you decided to have some fun. 

You pull back, your hands gently but firmly pushing Katsuki back into the chair. His deep vermillion eyes widen slightly, a mix of surprise and confusion flickering across his face. He stays still for a moment, trying to process your sudden change in demeanor, before narrowing his eyes and attempting to rise again.

So you push his big bodied ass back down. 

Katsuki blinked, still dazed as he found himself pressed back against the seat, your hands firmly on his chest. His eyes search yours, flickering with a mix of confusion, frustration, and something else—something sad. His lips parted as if to speak, but you beat him to it, your voice soft yet teasing.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, your smile playful as you gently pushed him back again when he tried to sit up. His brows furrowed, and he blinked at you, clearly perplexed by your sudden shift in mood.

“Hah?!” he finally managed, his tone edged with irritation, though the confusion remained.

His reaction is sharp, but there's an undertone of bewilderment as he searches your face for answers, clearly unprepared for your unexpected move.

You tilted your head, keeping your smile intact as you poked his cheek gently. “Why are you acting more gremlin-ish than usual? Does this have anything to do with that video I accidentally sent you?”

His gaze sharpened, and he scoffed, turning his head away from you. “Tch, no.” His arms crossed over his chest in a defensive gesture, a barrier between him and the vulnerability you were nudging at.

“Come on, Kats, don’t be like this,” you coaxed, your fingers continuing to poke and prod his face, knowing you were one of the few people he’d ever let touch him like this. You press your first fingers into the soft squish of his apple cheeks before gently tracing over his scar. Katsuki’s jaw tenses, but before you can push further, his hand shoots out, swift as a viper, snatching you up in one fluid motion.

With surprising ease, he shifted you beside him, laying you down in the cramped space of the driver seat, pinning you with his gaze as he hovered slightly over you. His voice low, eyes scanning your face as if reading your every thought.

“Ya wanna go home now or get yer hair done?” 

You pouted, your hands resting on his chest and forearms. “Why can’t you just communicate when it’s obvious you were a little jealous?”

His thumbs pressed into the soft spot on your hip, a subtle reminder of just how dangerous this territory was. His smirk, however, was sharp and knowing.

“You wanna tell me now, or get nothing when we get home?” you teased, your voice a playful challenge.

His eyes narrowed, a blush creeping up his cheeks as he leaned forward. 

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, try it,” you dared, your grin widening as you watched him wrestle with himself. His gaze flicked back to you, hesitant but defiant. Finally, he huffed, the blush deepening.

“I didn’t like that other man touching all over my wife,” he admitted, his voice gruff, the words almost sticking in his throat.

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that bubbled up. “Katsuki, he wasn’t touching all over me,” you corrected gently. “And I’m not letting up until you look at me.” Reluctantly, he met your gaze, his blush not fading as he sighed. 

“Hi,” he muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice light, affectionate. Leaning up, you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him close. 

“You’re such a cute baby girl when you’re jealous.”

His groan was immediate, a low, rumbling sound as he let his head fall onto your shoulder. “That killed it,” he grumbled, his hands finding your waist as he flipped you over onto him. “You’ve got two choices—here  or yer hair appointment.”

You giggled, pressing your palms against his chest. “Katsuki, we can’t do ‘that’ here.”

“Why not?” he challenged, his fingers tracing the smooth skin of your back and stomach, his hands hot against you.

“For one, it’s public,” you pointed out, shivering as his lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, his breath warm against your pulse.

“Don’t care,” he muttered, his mouth continuing its path, sending little jolts of pleasure through you.

“And two,” you continued, your voice breathy, “someone could see us and make a report.”

That, at least, made him pause.

He huffed, frustrated, before burying his face in your neck, his arms tightening around you in a possessive hug. You stroked his hair gently, your fingers threading through the soft strands. “Aw, you big baby,” you cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

His lips curled into a faint smirk against your skin. 

“Hey! No pinching!” you squeaked, feeling the mischievous squeeze on your butt.

“You make it too easy,” he teased, his voice low and warm, his hands settling into a gentler hold as he nuzzled against you, content to bask in your presence despite the lingering frustration.

You pulled back from the kiss, gazing into Katsuki’s eyes, your heart swelling with affection. “You make my life easy,” you murmured, your voice soft and full of gratitude. “Thank you for always taking care of me and being such a good husband.”

A warm smile tugged at Katsuki’s lips, and before you could even process, he was kissing you again. This time, it was more tender, more loving. His left hand cupped your cheek, his touch gentle as he leaned into the kiss, his lips molding against yours with a careful, almost reverent pressure. You felt his right arm snake around your waist, pulling you closer, securing you against him, not an ounce of space between your bodies.

Your fingers naturally found their way to his chest, resting over his quickly beating heart. You could feel the steady, fast thrum beneath your fingertips as you traced the spot, watching as he let out a low groan, the sound vibrating against your lips.

You sank down into his lap, moving slowly, deliberately, your body settling firmly against his. You tangled your fingers into his soft, spiky hair, feeling the strands between your fingers as you closed your eyes, letting yourself melt into the feeling of him beneath you. Your breath evened out, and you let your forehead rest against his, the space between your hearts closing as you intertwined your left hand with his right. You could feel the steady pulse of his heartbeat in his fingertips, and it matched the rhythm of your own.

“Thank you for lettin' me take care of you,” he whispered, his voice hushed and almost reverent.

You stayed like that, your foreheads touching, breaths mingling as time seemed to stand still. You couldn’t help the small, contented smile that tugged at your lips, your fingers lightly tracing the veins running through his hand. There was something so intimate in that simple gesture, in the way you could feel each other’s pulse, the unspoken connection that ran between you. The world outside felt far away, and in this moment, it was just you and Katsuki.

“Awwww!”

The sudden, loud chorus of voices from the outside made both of you freeze, and your hearts skipped a beat. 

Your eyes snapped open, and you both turned toward the window, where the unmistakable faces of Denki, Mina, Sero, and Kirishima were pressed up against the glass, their exaggerated expressions of glee clear even from here.

“OH, YOU GUYS ARE TOO CUTE!” Denki shouted, his grin practically stretching ear to ear, his thumbs up in the air as he made obnoxious “heart” hand gestures.

Mina’s hands were pressed against the glass, her face lighting up as she made kissy faces toward the two of you. “I’m literally dying!” she squealed, fanning herself dramatically. “You two are so cute, oh my god, you’re giving me life!”

Sero, ever the playful one, was pretending to wipe away fake tears, looking utterly overwhelmed. “Look at them! El verdadero amor nunca muere! My heart can’t take it!” he moaned melodramatically.

Kirishima stood behind the others, arms crossed over his chest, his smirk wide and proud. “Yo, that’s my bro! Keep it up, man!” He gave Katsuki a thumbs up, completely unfazed by the fact that you both were clearly caught in a very private moment.

You froze, caught between the shock of being interrupted and the heat that was rapidly rising to your cheeks. Your heart thudded in your chest, and you could feel the heat radiating from Katsuki, who had gone completely still, his hands gripping your waist a little tighter, his jaw tightening in that way that meant he was fighting off embarrassment.

You could practically feel the anger radiating off of him like a wave, and you couldn’t help but giggle despite yourself. “Oh my God,” you muttered under your breath, pressing your forehead into his, trying to stifle the laughter that bubbled up. You could feel Katsuki’s face burning against your skin as he growled low in his throat, his body tense beneath you.

“Shut the fuck up, you idiots!” Katsuki barked, though there was an unmistakable, embarrassed edge to his voice. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

Denki wasn’t backing down, though. “Oooooh, looks like the big guy’s shy now!” he teased, clearly loving the situation.

“Shut it, stupid,” Katsuki snarled, his voice still rough, but there was a hint of fondness behind his irritation.

You could feel Katsuki’s heartbeat beneath your palm, still racing, as you pressed your lips to his cheek, giving him a soft kiss to reassure him. He huffed but relaxed just a little at the touch, clearly more annoyed at being caught than truly embarrassed.

“Stop staring at us, you perverts,” you called out, though your voice was tinged with laughter. “You’re gonna ruin the moment!”

Mina stuck out her tongue and waved dramatically. “We’re not the ones ruining it,” she teased, her hands still framing her face as she fluttered her lashes at you both. Kirishima gave another hearty laugh. “Hey, don’t worry, man, you two have been together forever, you deserve all the ‘aww’s’!” He threw Katsuki another heart, making the other man growl under his breath.

“C’mon, let’s get outta here,” you said with a smile, gently pulling away from Katsuki, though his arms tightened around you, not quite ready to let go.

The others backed away from the window, still waving and making kissy faces at you, leaving you and Katsuki in your little bubble of quiet tension. His hands finally released their hold on your waist, but his fingers lingered for a second, as if unwilling to fully let go. You turned to him with a grin, brushing your lips against his jaw.

“Home now?” you teased, voice full of warmth and amusement, feeling that familiar pull between you both, even with the entire world watching.

“Hell yeah,” he muttered, leaning in to kiss you one last time before you both settled into the car, determined to leave behind the embarrassment and bask in your shared warmth.

—

"Well, that’s how it would've gone if you hadn’t lied and basically stranded me at the salon while you were grocery shopping," you say, shaking your head slightly. "And picking up cute sweaters, thinking you'd surprise me, but you know—"

Katsuki frowns, his arms crossed over his chest, clearly not understanding the full depth of your reasoning. "What, you steal my stuff because it’s your duty now? What the hell kinda logic is that?"

You give a playful shrug. "Yeah, pretty much. It's literally my job now as your wife to steal your clothes, and I can only give them back when they no longer smell like you."

You finish rubbing lotion onto your legs and arms, your movements slow and deliberate as you prepare for bed, the soft scent of the lotion mixing with the lingering fragrance of the shower. Katsuki’s eyes are locked on you, studying every motion with an intensity that almost feels like a heatwave in the room. After a beat of silence, he tilts his head slightly, as if trying to gauge whether you're serious or messing with him. 

He doesn’t quite seem convinced, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he stares at you with that familiar intensity, his gaze flickering as you move around the room. Then, without missing a beat, he breaks the silence with a casual, 

“Wanna get sweaty together?”

The words hang in the air for a moment, his deep voice making your heart skip. You freeze for a split second as you carefully wrap your hair in the silk scarf, the cool material sliding over your fingers as you look at him through the reflection in the vanity mirror. Your eyes meet his, and you can see the playful glint in his gaze, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Sweaty? I— Oh!" The heat that suddenly swirled in your lower stomach caught you off guard, the warmth curling low as his smile turned sharp, wicked even. You could feel his gaze on you from the bed, intense, like he was savoring the tension in the air.Katsuki shifted on the bed, his voice held a teasing edge when he spoke again, every word dripping with intent, 

"I saw what you did to my microwave, you little shit."

Your stomach flipped as your heart skipped a beat. You didn’t even need to ask what he meant. You knew exactly what he was referring to. You could feel the heat creeping up your neck as you avoided his gaze in the mirror. 

What were you supposed to say?! There was no point in trying to justify it. 

You did smear syrup all over the microwave.

Knowing it would work your clean freak husband up. 

But before you could even process a response, your feet were already moving before your brain could catch up.

You threw yourself out of the vanity chair, your body a blur of action. You didn’t even glance at him as you bolted for the door, the room instantly filled with the sound of your hurried steps echoing through the hallway. The soft padding of your bunny slippers barely made a sound, but your heart was thundering in your chest as you dashed past the hallway, dodging furniture and glancing back over your shoulder.

Katsuki’s laughter, low and knowing, rumbled from behind you, the sound growing louder as his footsteps followed close behind. He was coming for you, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You could hear the shift in his tone—hungry, playful, and definitely too cocky for your liking. 

He was enjoying this, you realized.

‘Think fast, think fast!’ You glanced wildly around, and then, on instinct, you jumped. You sailed over the stair railing, landing with a soft thud on the other side. The movement was fluid, practiced, but the rush of adrenaline made it feel like the world had slowed down. The next few seconds were a blur of frantic footfalls and the sound of your breath catching in your chest.

You didn’t have time to scream or laugh—it was all pure instinct now as you dashed through the house. 

Every step was a race against him. You darted from one room to the next, flipping on every light you could reach, as if trying to outsmart him with a maze of illumination. You tried to drown out the sound of his voice, calling out to you, teasing you.

"Where’d you go, huh? You think you can run from me?" Katsuki’s voice bounced off the walls, deep and full of that teasing edge. His footsteps were much closer now.

You couldn’t let him catch you just yet, not while you still had a chance. The house felt too large, yet too small, and you knew the only way to stay out of his grasp was to stay one step ahead. You could hear him, but he hadn’t quite found you yet.

With a quiet gasp, you pressed yourself against the wall, slipping into the narrow space between the large sectional and the wall. 

The living room was eerily silent now, the only sound being your heavy breathing and the slight rustling of your robe. You held your breath, eyes darting from the shadows of the room to the hallway beyond. 

‘Stay quiet, stay still, don’t even fucking breathe’ you told yourself, the anticipation thick in the air.

The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity. Your heart was hammering in your chest, each beat loud enough that you thought he might hear it, but then you heard it—the subtle sound of his footsteps, faint at first, but growing louder as he circled the room.

"You think you can hide from me, huh?" Katsuki’s voice was low, predatory, and full of amusement. 

"I’m gonna find you, little bunny. There’s nowhere you can hide."

You felt the hairs on your neck stand up as the anticipation crept into your veins. He was so close. You could practically feel him, his energy filling the space, even if you couldn’t see him. His presence was like a heat wave moving through the room.

And then it happened.

A loud thud, and the creak of the floorboards beneath his weight. His voice, sharper now, echoed in the space. "I know you're here, damn it. Don’t make me come get you."

You tensed, knowing your time was running out. He was near, but you had one more move left. You didn’t wait. You took the chance. You shot out from your hiding place, darting for the sliding door before he could reach you.

But it was too late.

With a speed that seemed to defy logic, Katsuki was on you in seconds. His large hand gripped your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You gasped in surprise, your heart racing as you felt the heat of his body press against your back.

“Yer gonna have to do better than that,” he growled in your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

With his other hand, he pulled you roughly into his chest, his muscles flexing with the effort as he forced you into his embrace. You could feel his heart beating just as wildly as yours, and despite the playful teasing, there was a fire in his touch that made your pulse quicken.

Katsuki’s lips pressed to the side of your neck, his voice a soft, dangerous murmur. “You can’t outrun me, babe. Now... what’s this about dirtying my stuff?”

“You didn’t even want the microwave!”

The two ‘love taps’ on your ass that followed told you that wasn't the point.  

You swallowed, feeling the playful, mischievous tension shift into something much more intense. You could feel the smirk against his skin, his chest still rumbling with amusement. He wasn’t going to let this go easily.

"I guess you’ve caught me," you murmured, your voice breathless. "But you still haven’t figured out what you’re gonna do about it, have you?"

His response was a low, satisfied chuckle, his grip tightening just enough to remind you who was in control. "Oh, I’ve got a few ideas," he murmured darkly, and just like that, you knew this game was far from over.

The tension in the air shifted once more, as Katsuki grabbed your waist as you tried to dart past him, guiding you toward the kitchen with a firm hand ont he small of your back. His grip was strong, commanding, as he led you to the microwave.

"Get to work," he grumbled, his voice low and filled with that same playful authority. The mess you’d made—smeared syrup on the microwave—was now your responsibility to clean up. You could see his smirk from the corner of your eye, clearly enjoying the little game he'd forced you into.

You crossed your arms over your chest, pouting as you grabbed a rag from the counter and began wiping the sticky mess away. It wasn't exactly what you'd had in mind for a fun evening. You sighed dramatically, your body language exaggerated as you huffed.

"This wasn’t what I had in mind, you know," you muttered under your breath, clearly disappointed.

Katsuki glanced up from the apple he was casually biting into, his deep eyes locking onto yours as his lips curled into a teasing smile. "What did you have in mind?" His voice held that same playful edge, but there was something beneath it—a hint of satisfaction in knowing that you'd been caught, and he was making you work for it.

You scowled, wanting to retort, but all you could do was finish the job, swiping the last of the syrup away with a little more force than necessary. Katsuki’s gaze lingered on you, and you could feel the heat of his attention despite his nonchalant chewing. He enjoyed this too much—seeing you all riled up and a little annoyed. You could tell by the stupid sexy small grin playing on his lips.

Finally, when the job was done, you straightened up, wiping your hands on your robe. Katsuki pushed off the counter and walked past you, his voice casual as he asked, "You ready for bed now?"

The suggestion of rest was tempting, but you weren't done with him just yet. You rubbed your hands together slowly, grinning mischievously inside as you felt the heat rise between you again. Katsuki turned to face you, already half-expecting something more, but his brow furrowed when he noticed the way you were acting.

"Is the house too cold for you?" he asked, the softness in his voice indicating he was already thinking of ways to keep you comfortable. "I’ll turn up the heat."

But before he could even take another step toward the thermostat, your hand darted out, warm and quick. 

The palm of your hand landed with a firm smack against his ass cheek, the impact loud in the otherwise quiet kitchen. Katsuki froze, his eyes narrowing in shock, but before he could fully process it, you did it again. A quick, sharp tap to the other cheek—once, then twice—your hand connecting with his firm, muscular backside.

He whipped around, his eyes flashing with the same fiery intensity you knew so well. “The hell do you think you’re doing?” His voice was low, a growl barely concealed beneath the words, and his chest rose and fell with a deep breath, clearly trying to control the surge of heat that ran through him.

But before he could respond or chase you, you darted away, sprinting down the hallway with your heart racing. The adrenaline from the earlier chase was still pumping in your veins, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly to yourself, knowing that you were in for it now. You could already feel the change in him—a shift from playful to downright determined, and that meant trouble for you.

His voice, sharp and commanding, followed you as you ran through the house. 

"Oh, you're gonna get it now!" 

There was no sweetness in his words anymore, just the promise of payback, and you knew he meant it.

You could feel it before you even reached the hallway corner—the heavy thuds of his footsteps as he chased after you. He was pissed, but there was a certain gleam in his eyes that told you he was enjoying this as much as you were. Your heart hammered in your chest, but you couldn’t stop the thrill of it all. You were playing with fire, and Katsuki was more than ready to burn.

The panic you felt as you scrambled into the prep kitchen and opened the pantry was only tempered by the rush of adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You threw the door closed behind you with a soft, but hurried click, and you quickly scaled the shelves, barely keeping your balance as you shoved yourself into the corner. It was dark, cramped, and smelled faintly of spices, but it was perfect for hiding—for now, at least.

You pressed a hand over your mouth, biting back the urge to laugh at your own antics. Playing this game with Katsuki was dangerous, and you knew it. But what could you say? You were addicted to the thrill, to the way you could tap dance on his nerves like this, driving him crazy. It was a game, one you both knew well, and hell, you’d earned it. As his wife, it was practically your constitutional right to rile him up a little.

Your eyes darted around the small, dark pantry, and your breath slowed as you listened carefully for any sound of Katsuki. For a moment, there was nothing. Then, faintly, you heard the echoing crackle of something in the distance, the unmistakable sound of soft explosions. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what it was—Katsuki was out there, his quirk flaring. You barely had time to register the thought before you saw a faint glow from under the pantry door, the light from his explosions spilling in through the cracks as he tested the area.

For a moment, the kitchen went eerily silent. The door swung open, just enough to let in more light, and you could hear his heavy footsteps, slow and deliberate. He wasn’t using his quirk anymore, but his presence was palpable, a tension in the air you could practically taste.Eventually, the door closed again, but you didn’t hear any footsteps leading away. 

You swallowed, holding your breath, wondering if he was waiting for you to give yourself away. What if he was just outside the door, waiting for you to slip up? The thought made your pulse race again, and you crouched down lower, hoping to stay hidden just a little longer. The quiet was agonizing as you waited, counting each second, your heart thudding in your ears.

Gently, you climbed back down from your spot and tiptoed to the center of the pantry doors. You couldn’t see any feet from under the door and when you peaked through the crack, no one was there. Even the door to the prep kitchen was close, moonlight streaming in from the window. 

Then, just as you began to relax, a shiver ran up your spine, and you swore you could feel him looking at you, his gaze burning through the air. It was a wild thought, but your instincts told you it was true. You hadn’t heard him move, but you felt it—the knowing presence of Katsuki, so close yet so far. You froze, barely daring to move as you waited for him to make his next move.

And then it came.

A soft whisper, just behind your ear, as warm lips brushed against your ear. 

"Is he gone yet?"

Your breath hitched, and you barely stifled a scream. 

He had been right there the whole time, lying in wait, ready to strike. You gasped and immediately bolted, stumbling out of your hiding spot as you tore down the pantry shelves, your heart pounding. 

"Katsuki!" you screamed, the sound of your voice only fueling the chase. 

He tricked you! 

And now, you were going to pay for it.

You ran back into the kitchen, your legs moving faster than they should have, but you weren’t about to let him win. You spun around the counter, ducking and dodging as you heard the unmistakable sound of his footsteps closing in behind you. Katsuki was hot on your heels, laughing darkly as he taunted, 

"You're not gonna outrun me, sweetheart!"

Your heart was racing as you darted around the kitchen, taking sharp corners and swerving around the island. It felt like an endless game of 'ring around the rosie'—only you were the one spinning in circles, desperate to keep your distance while Katsuki's laughter echoed all around you. The kitchen, your familiar battleground, was now your prison, and he was closing in.

Desperation filled you, and in a moment of inspiration (or maybe pure panic), you grabbed the nearest fruit basket. You swung it at him with all the force you could muster, and it hit him square in the chest, sending apples and oranges scattering across the floor. He paused for a moment, surprised by your impromptu attack, but the shock didn’t last long. A smirk spread across his face as he shook his head and turned back toward you.

“Nice try,” he growled, already moving after you again.

You shrieked and turned on your heel, racing toward the hallway. The next place to hide? You didn’t know yet, but you weren’t about to make it easy for him. You heard his footsteps pounding after you, his growls of annoyance growing louder with each step.

"Leave me alone!" you shouted, looking for any way to escape. "You're impossible!"

You dart into the home movie theater, your feet skidding slightly on the smooth hardwood floors as you crouch low between the rows of seats, hoping to lose Katsuki in the dimness of the room. The large space feels like a maze of plush chairs and hidden corners, perfect for slipping away unnoticed. Your pulse is pounding in your ears as you press your back to one of the seats, holding your breath, trying to calm the frantic energy running through you.

For a moment, all is silent, the only sound the quiet hum of the air conditioning. Then, without warning, the room is flooded with light as the giant movie screen flickers to life. You jerk your head up in alarm to see Katsuki standing at the front of the room, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. 

He’s leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching you like a predator waiting for its prey to make a mistake. The screen behind him casts a glow, making his features look sharp and dangerous—his vermillion eyes twinkling with amusement.

“You can’t hide forever, princess,” he calls out in a sing-song voice, and your stomach flutters in that wicked, dangerous way that only he can manage. It’s almost scary how much his presence affects you, but you can't stop the heat rising in your body as you feel his gaze locking onto you.

You throw the remote at him in a frantic attempt to distract him, and it hits him square in the chest. He chuckles darkly and catches it mid-air, his eyes still never leaving yours as he steps toward you. “Nice try,” he mocks, his voice low, full of dangerous amusement. 

“But you’re gonna have to do a lot better than that.”

Before you can react, you turn and bolt out of the theater, running as fast as your legs can carry you. His footsteps echo behind you, the sound of him chasing you growing closer and closer. 

“Why don’t you wanna be a good wife, huh?” 

His voice rings out, teasing and laced with that underlying heat that makes your skin tingle. 

“Come over here so I can show you just how much of a bad girl you’re being.”

You let out a squeal of laughter and fear, your heart pounding in your chest. There’s something about how relentless he is, how playful yet serious, that makes you feel like a mixture of excitement and nervousness all at once. It’s almost overwhelming, the way his words make your heart do summer saults.

In your panic, you dart into the gaming room, thinking you can slip past him in the narrow space between the arcade machines and shelves of consoles. But the moment you step into the room, you realize your mistake. You’ve backed yourself into a corner, and you can already feel his presence behind you, drawing closer.

A low growl of frustration escapes his throat. 

“Really? You think this is gonna save you?” he grumbles, his voice rich with amusement as he stalks toward you, closing the gap faster than you can react. You try to dash around one of the desks, but he’s already there, his hand wrapping around your wrist, pulling you back with a force that leaves you breathless.

Before you know it, you’re pressed against the cool surface of a console, the light from the television screen casting strange shadows over your bodies. Katsuki’s face is inches from yours, his warm breath mingling with yours as his eyes burn with that teasing, wicked glint.

“Gotcha,” he growls softly, his lips curling into a smile that’s anything but sweet. You feel a surge of heat rush to your cheeks as you fight to catch your breath, the rush of adrenaline still pumping through you.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he says with a mock sigh, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, his thumb grazing over your cheek. “Otherwise, I’d just let you keep running.”

But you’re trapped now, nowhere to go but back into his arms as he pulls you closer, his grip firm but playful. The game has changed, and you can feel it in every heated second that passes between you two.

You feel a mischievous spark flicker in your chest, a playful impulse bubbling up as you glance at Katsuki. Thinking quickly, you decide to act on your not-so-good thoughts and fake a cough, knowing full well that he wouldn’t deny you something as simple as water.

You cover your face against his shoulder, a dramatic cough escaping your lips, each one exaggerated and “delicate” as you turn to him, trying your best to sound like you're struggling without actually being in distress. You hold the coughs in just long enough to make it sound convincing, then pull back just slightly to give him a soft, pleading look.

“Kat,” you manage to whisper, your voice intentionally weak as you try to act as demure as possible while clearly playing him. “Could you get me some water? Please?”

His gaze softens for a moment, the protective instinct flaring up in him as he reaches over without a second thought, clearly not seeing the slight mischief in your eyes. His hand brushes your hair away from your face gently

As soon as the cough escapes your lips, you can see the flicker of concern flash across Katsuki's face. His eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn't call you out. He knows you too well to fall for a typical trick, but when you fake a few more delicate coughs, turning your face into his shoulder and pretending to weakly gasp for air, he seems to soften. His scowl deepens, but he’s already scanning you, making sure you're actually okay.

"Kami, you're really something else," he mutters under his breath, but there's no bite in his tone. Instead, it's replaced with a reluctant tenderness as he hoists you up into his arms with ease, just like he’s done so many times before. The moment your body presses against his chest, you feel the warmth of him radiate through your own clothes, and you can’t help but smile, knowing you’re getting exactly what you wanted.

He carries you into the kitchen with a determined stride, like he’s on a mission. You’re basically cradled against him, the motion smooth but with that underlying power that only Katsuki can bring. You rest your head against his shoulder, savoring the way he smells, the comfort of his presence making everything feel secure, even if you were the one to initiate this little ruse.

Once he sets you on the kitchen counter, it’s all business. 

He turns around, reaching for the fridge and pulling out a ice cold water bottle, which he hands to you with a soft, "Here." His expression is serious now, a slight frown still lingering on his face, though it’s softened by the concern he can't hide entirely.

"Thank you," you murmur sweetly, taking the bottle and uncapping it with a soft twist. You sip from it generously, enjoying the coolness of the water that soothes your throat. All the while, you notice his gaze never leaves you, a little too intense for casual observation. The way he looks at you, like you're both an annoyance and a treasure, sends a shiver down your spine.

As you take another sip, Katsuki silently starts picking up the apples and oranges you’d thrown at him earlier. The way his muscular arms move, the tension in his back and shoulders as he bends down and reaches for the fallen fruit, has your thoughts wandering. For a split second, you can’t help but compare him to Jason, imagining what it would be like if Katsuki were to flex those powerful muscles with the same intent—though you know that Katsuki would never harm you.

He stands there, staring at you with his hands resting firmly on the counter. 

The muscles in his forearms flex as he leans in slightly, clearly waiting for you to acknowledge him. But it’s the way his eyes lock onto you, his expression serious but not without a hint of that playful edge that makes your heart beat faster. He stands so close, the heat of his body radiating toward you, and you almost swear you can feel the smoldering energy between you two, even without touching.

You take another sip of the water, but this time your gaze meets his, and you can't help but smirk. "You look good like that," you tease, unable to resist the playful glint in your own eyes as your gaze roams over him, savoring the way his muscles move with every action, every twitch of his body. It’s almost as if you’re daring him to take the next step.

Katsuki smirks back, his eyes darkening slightly. "You think you're so cute, don't you?" His voice is low, the undertone of desire thick enough for you to feel it in your bones.

But you're not done yet.

"You know, I am," you reply coyly, swinging your legs slightly on the counter, letting your robe ride up just a little. You watch the way his eyes flicker to your legs, the change in his expression that makes your stomach twist in excitement.

Katsuki clears his throat and leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he growls, "You're playing a dangerous game, sweetheart." He pulls back just enough to catch your gaze, his vermilion eyes smoldering with a mix of amusement and desire. 

"You better be ready for the consequences."

And just like that, you know this little game of yours has taken a sharp turn. The air is thick with tension now, each second passing like an electric pulse between you both. But you’re not backing down. 

Not this time.

You seize the water bottle, chucking it at your husband again as his eyes narrow and he hits the ground in time, your pulse quickening as you dart off the counter and up the stairs, hoping your lucky stars are shining brightly tonight. The sound of Katsuki's curses and frustrated muttering echo from downstairs, but you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. ‘

"Oi, you little brat, don’t think you’re getting away that easily," his voice growls, a mix of exasperation and amusement lacing his words. "I swear to god, when I get my hands on you—"

The sound of Katsuki's curses and frustrated muttering echo from downstairs, but you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. The dim light from the hallway barely reaches the corners of the room, and with a quick glance around, you make a beeline for the space under the bed. You slide underneath, curling into a tight ball, trying to control your breathing as your pulse continues to throb in your ears. You’re nearly holding your breath now, hoping that the darkness of the room and the soft carpet will hide you long enough for him to give up the search.

‘He���s not chasing me,’ you think, laughing under your breath as you curl up into a tight ball, barely able to contain your giggles. The dim light from the hallway barely reaches you as you stay perfectly still, heart racing with excitement.

The silence stretches, just as you're starting to think you might actually get away with it, but then—crackle—the intercom crackles to life. Katsuki’s voice filters through, sending a shiver down your spine. His voice is dark and heavy with intent, cutting through the quiet of the house like a razor.

"Okay, little girl, have it your way," he growls, the sound of his explosions echoing faintly in the background, a sign that he’s still searching. "If you can hide for another 10 minutes without pulling any of your dirty tricks, the rest of the night can go your way."

You pause, the breath you’d been holding catching in your throat as you listen more intently. 

You don’t dare make a sound, your body tense beneath the bed, the room feeling colder as the challenge sets in. Katsuki’s words ring through your mind, and you can almost see the smirk on his face, even though you’re hidden in the shadows.

Then, the briefest of pauses. You could hear his explosions falter as if he was waiting for your response, but you stay still. His next words are low, full of weight, and deliberate as they slide from his mouth.

"If I win..." He drags it out, just enough to keep you on edge. 

"You’ll be my slave. Your choice."

Your stomach flutters with both anxiety and excitement, your pulse spiking at the dangerous proposition. 

Slave—his word lingers in your mind, and despite the heavy weight of it, there’s an undeniable thrill in the challenge he’s laying before you. The heat rises in your cheeks as you realize what’s at stake.

Another pause, and then his voice filters through again, darker this time, as though the stakes are raised even higher. "I’ll give you five minutes to come back and apologize. Otherwise..." His voice lowers to a growl, the chill of it making your spine straighten. 

"You better hope I don’t find you, princess."

Your breath hitches, the finality in his words sending a shiver through you. Every muscle tenses as you lie there, the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out the silence of the room. The space underneath the bed suddenly feels even tighter, as though the weight of his promise is closing in on you.

You’re caught between two choices—stay hidden and push your luck, or face him and risk the consequences. Your hands grip the floor beneath you, the texture of the carpet digging into your fingers as you think, weighing the choices, feeling the pressure of every second ticking by.

“BOOM!”

Something gets knocked over somewhere down the hall, and it stops your heart. You strain your ears and catch a noise. It’s Katsuki, his voice low but unmistakably annoyed, filtering through the walls.

You can hear the smirk in his tone, the barely restrained menace, and it sends a thrill straight through you. You feel a rush of adrenaline as the challenge settles into your chest. ‘A slave, huh?’ The thought makes you bite your lip, trying to suppress a laugh. 

But you can’t let him know you’re enjoying this.

You curl further beneath the bed, trying to keep as still as possible, your body pressing against the cool floorboards as you listen intently to his voice. His words ring in your ears, an irresistible mix of dominance and playfulness. You can practically feel the heat of his glare from here, even though you’re tucked away in your hiding spot.

“Ten minutes, huh?” you whisper to yourself, still not daring to move an inch. “Guess I better make this count.”

You hold your breath, willing yourself to stay silent, as you hear his footsteps grow closer. It’s eerily quiet for a moment, and then—footsteps, loud and deliberate—Katsuki’s on the move. He’s clearly taking his time, perhaps savoring this moment, knowing that you're somewhere just out of reach. His footsteps stop right outside the door to the guest bedroom.

“I'm coming for you, princess,” he calls through the door, voice low and menacing. 

"Seven minutes... Time’s ticking."

You hold your breath, hoping he doesn’t hear the quickening of your pulse. You can hear him walking around, at a deliberate pace, as if he's trying to cover every inch of the house. He's playing this game with the same ferocity he brings to everything—no hesitation, no mercy.

Your eyes flicker to the clock on the nightstand. Time’s slipping away, and you can practically feel the heat of his presence outside the room, waiting for you to make a move.

His voice suddenly filters through again, but this time, it’s even more teasing, drawing you in like a magnet. "I hope you know, I’m gonna find you. You’re not getting away with this, bunny."

Your breath catches in your throat. 

He’s close, and the clock is ticking down. 

You have to make a decision—will you continue hiding, hoping your luck will hold, or will you face him and take what’s coming? Either way, you're in this now, and the thrill of the chase is too intoxicating to back out of.

You wait for another few seconds, then slowly, carefully, you begin to crawl out from under the bed. The floor creaks beneath you, but you ignore it, moving as silently as you can toward the door. You hear his footsteps again, and they’re louder now, meaning he’s getting closer.

You quickly slip out of the guest bedroom and dart down the hallway, trying to keep your steps light. The adrenaline courses through you, and you feel a sudden, almost overwhelming desire to make him chase you a little longer.

But suddenly, just as you round the corner, you stop. 

You press yourself into the wall, holding your breath.

His voice rings out from down the hall, low and rough. "I'm getting close, little girl. I can feel you. You’re not gonna hide much longer." The challenge has shifted. The ball is in your court now. You might just be able to outsmart him... or you might end up surrendering to his demand, not knowing which would be more satisfying.

Your pulse races as you slip through the room, making your way back to the shared bedroom, your footsteps light but hurried. The house feels bigger now, emptier, as if the space is closing in on you.

Once you reach the door, you pause, a brief moment of hesitation before you push it open, slipping inside. 

The familiar scent of the room—of Katsuki, of home—wraps around you like a comforting blanket, but tonight, there’s no time for comfort.

You quickly climb into the bed, burying yourself beneath the thick comforter, the soft fluff of pillows surrounding you like a fortress. You pull the blankets tight around your body, cocooning yourself under layers, your body hidden from view. For a moment, you take a deep breath, your heart still racing from the game, the thrill not yet over.

You glance at the clock, counting down the minutes in your head. You can feel it—the frantic pace of the house around you, the subtle pressure building as the time slips away. ‘At least three more minutes,’ you think, your breath steadying as you listen to the muffled sounds of movement downstairs.

But then, suddenly, it all stops. 

The noise, the footsteps, the low muttering of Katsuki’s voice—all of it vanishes. 

A dead silence fills the air, so complete that it almost feels like the house has emptied, the stillness pressing in on you. You hold your breath, eyes wide in the darkness beneath the covers, your mind racing as you try to process the sudden absence of sound.

Had he given up? Or was this part of his plan? 

The unknown lingers in the air like a thick fog, and you lie there, still, not daring to move, every muscle tensed. You can’t tell if he’s waiting for you to make a mistake, or if he’s biding his time for something else.

The quiet stretches on, and it feels heavier now, as though Katsuki is just outside, watching, waiting.

You stay as still as possible, your heart pounding so loudly you swear it might give you away. Every inch of your body is frozen in place, breath shallow as you try to listen for any sign of movement, any clue as to what Katsuki is doing.

Then, out of nowhere, you feel it.

Arms wrap around you suddenly, pulling you into a firm hold. Your heart leaps in your throat as you gasp, the air squeezed out of you in an instant. A hand presses firmly over your mouth, stifling any sound that might escape, the heat of his palm searing against your skin. The pressure of his hold leaves no room for escape, your body effectively trapped against his, pressed up against the hard muscles of his body.

You stiffen, but the strength of his grip is unmistakable. The hand on your waist pulls you even closer, locking you in place, and you can feel every rigid line of his body against you. His warmth, the familiar scent of him—it all envelops you, but it only makes the tension sharper, the reality of your situation crashing down.

Katsuki’s body is solid behind you, his breathing steady but low, as though he’s been waiting for this moment, patient and calculating. You can feel his  strength, that palpable aura of control he always carries, and the way his muscles tense beneath your back as he holds you firmly in place.

For a long moment, neither of you move. 

The stillness between you two is thick, broken only by the ragged beat of your heart in your chest. He hasn’t said a word yet, but the way his grip tightens slightly, possessive and unyielding, tells you everything you need to know. He’s won this round, and he���s not letting go anytime soon.

"Did you really think you could hide from me that easily?" His voice comes low, a hiss vibrating through the air, right next to your ear. It’s a whisper, but it feels like a command, and the way his breath brushes against your skin sends a shiver down your spine.

You remain motionless, your mind spinning as you try to process what comes next. 

Katsuki’s grip around you tightens, but instead of the usual sharp dominance, there’s a surprising gentleness to it. His hand on your mouth lifts ever so slightly, his thumb brushing your lips in the softest of motions. For a moment, you’re left breathless, caught between confusion and something more electric that stirs under your skin.

You remain still, heart hammering in your chest, as you feel him pull you even closer, his chest pressing harder against your back. His breath is warm against your ear, and then—unexpectedly—his lips brush against your skin. The kiss is feather-light at first, a tentative press of his lips against your temple, as though testing something, gauging your reaction.

You freeze, the sensation catching you off guard. His lips are soft, too soft for the fierce, fiery hero you know him to be. It’s a contrast you’re not used to, and it disorients you. The kiss lingers for a moment before he pulls back slightly, but only enough to whisper in your ear.

"Don’t move," he murmurs, his voice low and steady, as if speaking to someone fragile. His hands move then, his fingers trailing softly down your mouth, a stark contrast to his usual forceful touch. They’re gentle, almost reverent, as if you were something delicate in his grasp.

You feel the faintest press of his lips again, this time on your neck, where his breath sends a wave of warmth across your skin. His lips trail lower, his kisses soft and careful, almost as though he’s rememorizing the shape of you, the way your body responds to his touch.

Your mind races, trying to process the tenderness, the way his hands glide over your body with such care. 

He’s checking you, almost methodically, like he’s making sure you’re okay, as if this entire moment is more about keeping you safe than playing any kind of game. It’s bewildering, disorienting, and just as you’re about to say something, you realize—it’s not just your arms and neck that he’s gently caressing.

He’s checking every inch of you, his hands roaming down your body with a soft, almost protective touch. When his fingers reach your ankles, you flinch slightly, but he’s too gentle, too careful. He slides your slippers off one by one, his movements so fluid you almost don’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. He continues his exploration, his hands inching up to your legs, your sides, his lips grazing across your skin as he checks every part of you.

But then you feel it—your robe, the one you’d been wearing only moments ago—is gone. It’s not just slipped off, it’s completely vanished, and the realization hits you like a cold wave. ‘When did he…?’ You don’t even remember him removing it.

Panic surges for a fleeting moment, but the overwhelming gentleness of his touch leaves you frozen in place. The confusion only deepens as you feel him inspect you, feeling each shift and breath of your body, as if making sure everything is just right. His hands linger for a moment on your hips, giving a soft squeeze, before sliding back up your torso, every movement deliberate but tender.

His lips press another kiss to the side of your neck, and this time, there’s an almost loving quality to it—soft and warm, like a promise or reassurance. You finally manage to gather your thoughts, your voice barely a whisper when you ask, 

"Katsuki… What are you doing?"

His hands freeze on your skin for a brief moment, and you can almost feel the pause in him, the weight of your question. He pulls away slightly, enough to look at you, but his hands never leave your body. His gaze meets yours, and the softness in his eyes contrasts with the fierce intensity you’re used to.

“ ’m making sure you’re okay,” he answers, voice still gentle, but it carries a seriousness to it. 

You swallow hard, the conflicting sensations in your chest only growing. His usual fiery nature is subdued now, replaced by something softer, something you’ve never seen from him. His fingers run softly over the edge of your collarbone, a silent question hanging between you both.

And then it clicks—the tenderness, the way he’s inspecting every inch of you, the robe and slippers that vanished without you even noticing. He’s not just searching for a game to win anymore. This is something different, something deeper, and you're left unsure if you should be relieved or even more confused than before.

"Turn this way for me, Peaches."

And that’s when it hits you.

Your blood ran cold. Katsuki never, ever called you Peaches in a normal context. It was a nickname reserved for moments right before things got… nasty. The kind of nasty that involved a lot of heated touches and breathless whimpers. Your muscles seized, a full-body freeze that left you rigid as a statue. All the exhaustion from the gaming session vanished, replaced by a shy, anticipatory buzz that thrummed beneath your skin.

Your mind scrambled, trying to piece together the last few minutes.

When you didn't move, his frustration was palpable, even if it was masked by a layer of concern you couldn't quite place. He reached out, not violently, but with a surprising gentleness in his grip, his calloused fingers curving around your upper arm and turning you towards him. His touch sent a jolt that unthawed your frozen limbs.

His brow was furrowed slightly as he scanned me, his gaze lingering on your shoulders, your arms, your ribcage. The intensity in his eyes wasn't lustful, not yet— it was searching, concerned.

"You didn't hit the floor too hard, did you?" he finally asked, the gruffness in his voice softer than usual. "I saw you stumble." Your breath hitched. ‘You’ve been worried about me?’ You hadn't even noticed. Your mind had been so focused on the teasing nickname and its implications that I’d completely missed the genuine concern in his eyes.

"I… I'm fine," You stammered, the tension slowly releasing its grip, though a different kind of nervous anticipation still simmered within.

Katsuki didn't seem fully convinced, his crimson eyes narrowing as he continued to assess you with that sharp focus. Then, he did something unexpected. He reached out again, but this time, his hands didn't just grip your arms. They slid down your forearms, to my wrists, and then to your hands. He took them in his, his own calloused fingers engulfing your much smaller ones.

The warmth of his skin seared through the thin fabric of your flesh. It was a small gesture, but the intimacy of it sent a different kind of shiver down your spine this time. It was a shiver of warmth, of comfort, and a growing awareness that maybe, just maybe, Peaches could mean different things in different contexts, and Katsuki was far more simple than you gave him credit for.

The tension in the room is thick as Katsuki’s lips near, his body heat radiating from the shadows like a controlled storm. The moonlight spills softly through the balcony doors, casting gentle beams across the floor and bed, painting everything in silvery hues. The only other light comes from the low, moody glow of your vanity, creating a calm contrast to the intensity of his presence. His face stop right in front of you, but you keep your eyes closed, pretending to remain focused on your own breathing.

"Yer not foolin’ me, Peach," Katsuki growls softly, his voice warm with amusement. He dips down in front of you, just within reach. His hand slides slowly up your calf, brushing against your smooth skin, sending a ripple of electricity through your body. His fingers gently graze your legs, rubbing them tenderly as though savoring the feel of them under his touch.

"Ya know," he says, his tone low, "’m gonna learn how to do nails." He pauses, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your inner thigh as he leans in, soft lips brushing against the tender skin of your knee. 

“That way, ya never have ta go back to that damn salon with that shithead.”

His lips leave a gentle kiss on your knee before resting his warm cheek against it, eyes narrowing as he meets your gaze with that sharp, intense look of his. 

“You’re my wife now,” he murmurs, almost as if it’s a promise. 

“I’m gonna take care of you. Always.”

You let out a soft breath, the heat rising in your chest as his words sink in. There’s something about the way he’s holding you, not just physically but emotionally, that makes your heart race. Katsuki is possessive, protective, and you can feel it in every inch of his touch, every word he speaks.

His hands gently grip your legs as his lips travel slowly up, kissing his way higher and higher, each kiss deliberate and full of affection. Your eyes flutter open as his warm breath fans across your skin, a chill running through you only to be quickly washed away by his heat. He pauses for a moment when he reaches your knees, his lips brushing softly against the skin there before his voice rumbles out again, teasing, yet affectionate.

“‘s the matter, Peaches?”

"We both have work tomorrow," you murmur, the words almost slipping out before you can catch them. “We can’t—”

He cuts you off with a kiss to the top of your knee, lingering there just a little longer than necessary. "I own the agency with you, babe," he says against your skin, his breath hot and soothing, sending a tremor through your body. 

"I can make arrangements. I’ll always make arrangements for you."

Your body shivers under his touch, a mix of excitement and anticipation building with every passing second. His kisses are relentless, moving up your legs, up your thighs, and over the soft curve of your hips and stomach as he inches closer to your lips.

A small laugh escapes you, but it’s laced with affection and playfulness. "It’s gonna be cold tonight," you say, voice barely above a whisper. He grins against your breastbone, the corners of his lips curling upward. 

"I’ll warm you up," he promises. His lips are now against your voice box, trailing upward slowly, stopping just shy of your jawline as he waits for your next move. You hesitate for a moment, remembering your freshly blown out hair. 

"I just got my hair done..." you say softly, a small tinge of concern flicking across your thoughts.

Katsuki pauses, his movements stilling entirely as if he’s considering the possibility of ruining your new style. 

Then, without a word, he reaches up, his strong hands gently pulling the silk scarf from your head. Your hair spills around you like a fan, soft and flowing, a stunning contrast to the harshness of the world outside. He picks up a few strands of your blow-out, his fingers lightly running through them as his lips land on them, kissing the strands with a reverence that surprises you.

With a tender smile, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, the very roots of your hair, then moves down, kissing your forehead, your cheeks, your eyes, nose, and finally stopping at your lips. His lips linger there for a second, his breath mingling with yours as he pulls away just enough to look into your eyes, his expression soft, almost vulnerable.

“I know,” he murmurs, and before you can say another word, his lips are back on yours, firm and warm, as he pours everything he feels into the kiss. You melt into him, hands finding their way into his hair as you pull him closer. The world outside fades away as he deepens the kiss, kissing you like he can’t get enough, like this moment is something precious he wants to keep forever.

And you let him.

Katsuki’s kiss deepens as you respond with equal fervor, your bodies pressed close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from him, your chest rising and falling with the intensity of the moment. His hands trail down your sides, gripping your waist and pulling you closer, his mouth moving hungrily against yours as though he’s starved for this closeness.

The soft fabric of your tanktop shifts under his touch as he tugs it down slightly, exposing your skin to the cool air, only for him to warm it up instantly with his hands. His lips leave yours reluctantly, his breath ragged as he moves down your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your sensitive skin. His teeth graze the pulse point just below your ear, and you gasp, the sensation sending a jolt of heat straight through your body.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," Katsuki growls, his hands sliding up your back to unclasp the delicate straps of your bra. The motion is slow, deliberate, as if he’s savoring every inch of you. 

“Can’t believe yer all mine."

You shiver as the fabric of your bra falls away, exposing more of your skin to his touch. He kisses his way down your collarbone, his hands now skimming over your curves, feeling the heat of your body under his palms. He leans in, capturing one of your nipples between his lips. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, sending shivers down your spine.

"Mmm, yer so responsive," he murmurs, trailing kisses down your chest to tease the other nipple. He takes the now-hardened tip into his mouth, sucking gently as his hands trace shapes on your stomach and hips. His touch is electric, making you moan as you arch into him.

"Katsuki," you whimper, your head falling back against the bed. "You're killing me."

He chuckles darkly, flicking his tongue over the tight peak. "I haven't even started, Princess," he promises, moving to lick and nip his way lower.

Your breath hitches when his hands move lower, tracing the waistband of your booty shorts, fingers teasing the edge before sliding beneath them, his touch so light it sends a shock of pleasure through you.

Katsuki’s lips find yours again, the kiss urgent now, his tongue demanding as it moves with a fierce intensity. You can feel his pulse racing as your hands wander to his chest, your fingers sliding beneath his shirt to feel the heated muscle underneath.

His lips trail down once more, this time stopping just above the waistband of your little shorts. His eyes meet yours, burning with desire, before he presses another kiss to your stomach, his hands sliding down your legs to lift them over his shoulders.

"Is this what you want, baby?" Katsuki asks, his voice low and rough, filled with promise. His lips graze your inner thighs as he waits for your answer, teasing, giving you just enough space to feel the need intensify.

"Say it," he demands softly, his voice a seductive growl. "Tell me you want me."

“I want you.”

“Good girl.”

You let out a soft gasp as Katsuki's hands slide up your thighs, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. With a quick tug, he pulls them down, exposing your lacy panties to his hungry gaze. He leans in, pressing a hot kiss to your clothed sex before pulling back with a smirk.

"Mmm, you're already so wet for me, aren't you?" he purrs, his fingers tracing the damp fabric. "I bet you've been thinking about this all night, haven't you? About what I'd do to you if I caught you?"

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you nod, biting your lip. Katsuki chuckles, low and deep, as he slowly slides your panties down your legs. You lift your hips to help him, your heart racing as he tosses them aside.

"Fuck, look at you," he growls, his eyes roaming over your naked form. "So perfect, so fucking sexy. I'm going to make you regret running from me."

He leans down, capturing one of your nipples between his lips. He sucks hard, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as his hand slides between your legs. His fingers tease your entrance, dipping in just slightly before pulling back.

"Beg for it," he demands, his voice rough with desire. "Beg me to fuck you."

"Please," you whimper, arching into his touch. "Please, Katsuki, I need you. I need your cock inside me."

"That's my good girl," he praises, sliding two fingers deep inside your aching pussy. "Fuck, you're so tight. I can't wait to stretch you out on my cock."

He pumps his fingers in and out, his thumb rubbing tight circles around your clit. Your hips buck against his hand, desperate for more, as he works you closer and closer to the edge. His hands slide underneath your body, pushing your legs further apart as he kneels between them. He takes a long look at your pussy, still wet from their earlier encounter, before leaning in and running his tongue along your slit.

"Mmm, so tasty," he murmurs, lapping at your juices like a starving man. "I could drink you from here to the next life."

His tongue circles your clit, making you gasp and squirm. Katsuki chuckles, one hand reaching up to cup your breast as he continues his slow assault. His other hand slides between your legs, spreading your folds wider for better access.

"So fucking ready for me," he purrs, rubbing his thumb over your sensitive nub. " 'm going to make you regret being a brat."

And with that, he dives in, licking and sucking your throbbing clit as his thumb presses deep into your cunt. Your hips buck off the bed, desperate for more as your moans fill the room.

"Fuck, Katsuki," you cry out, arching into his touch. "Don't stop."

But he does, pulling away with a smirk. "Not this time," he says simply, standing up and tugging off his clothes.

How could you refuse that?

He's magnificent, his well-toned body glistening with sweat and covered in the evidence of your arousal. You trace your fingers over his chest, your breath catching as he sucks in a sharp breath.

His chiseled physique, a testament to countless hours of training, was on full display, each contour accentuated by the soft light. His skin glowed, a perfect canvas that drew your eyes to the powerful muscles flexing as he moved. He was a force of nature—fiery and captivating.

You couldn’t help but admire the way his tousled hair fell over his forehead, framing those sharp, penetrating eyes that held a mixture of confidence and mischief. He caught you staring, a smirk playing on his lips, the corners curling just enough to send a thrill down your spine.

"You like what you see?" he asks, arching an eyebrow.

You nod eagerly, your fingers trailing down his abs and lower. Katsuki lets out a shaky breath, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. With a sultry smile, you lean back against the bed on all fours, every inch of you drawn towards him. 

“Just appreciating the view,” you replied, letting your voice drip with flirtation. The air between you thickened, charged with unspoken desires as he stepped forward, closing the distance.

“Yeah? Think you can handle all this?” he challenged, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his warmth. The heat of his body was intoxicating, igniting a fire deep within you. You could feel the power of him—bold, unyielding, yet protective.

“Only if you let me,” you whispered, your hands inches from his member, hearts racing in synchronized rhythm. But he holds you down. You whimper, trying to push back onto him, but his strong grip holds you steady. 

"Not yet," he murmurs, his hands gripping your wrists. "Lemme enjoy this."

As the tension simmered in the air, Katsuki’s smirk turned playful yet wicked. In one swift motion, he reached around, a mischievous glint in his eyes. His hand connected with your ass, a sharp slap that sent a jolt of electricity coursing through you.

“Didn’t expect that, did ya?” he chuckled, his voice low and teasing, clearly reveling in the reaction he’d provoked. The sting was both shocking and exhilarating, igniting a fiery rush of desire that pooled deep within you.

Before you could respond, he pulled you closer, flush against his yummy abs, his hands exploring the curves of your back with undeniable confidence. With a deft hand, he slipped beneath your left cheek, fingers brushing against your most sensitive spots. You gasped, the sensation sending shivers down your spine as he found the sweet spot between your folds that made your breath hitch.

Katsuki’s fingers moved with purpose, teasing and exploring, building a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure cascading through you. “Ya like that?” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he worked his magic, pushing you closer to the edge.

You could feel your body responding to his every touch, a delicious mix of desire and lust coursing through your veins. “More,” you managed to gasp, craving every ounce of his attention.

The way he dominated the moment, fully in control yet so attuned to your needs, made your heart race. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your forehead, whispering promises of pleasure as his fingers continued their tantalizing dance.

"Peaches," he growls, his voice low and rough. "You haven't come for me yet."

He slaps your ass, hard enough to sting, and you cry out. "Please, Katsuki," you beg, your body aching for his release. "Need it."

He laughs, a dark chuckle that sends shivers down your spine. "You'll have it," he promises, "but first, you're going to feel me inside you."

You could feel every taut muscle of Katsuki’s abs pressed against you, his warmth enveloping you completely. The way he moved, fingers dancing expertly, sent shivers cascading down your spine and ignited a fire deep within you. Each thrust of his fingers felt like a direct connection to your very core, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.

Your hands roamed over his bare hips, tracing the rugged contours, feeling the heat radiate from his skin. The sensation of gripping him, holding onto the solid strength beneath your fingers, made your pulse race with excitement. You could sense the power he exuded, a blend of raw masculinity and confidence that only fueled your desire further.

As he continued to work his magic, you pressed your body closer into him, feeling the rhythm of his movements sync with the rapid beat of your heart. Each curl of his fingers coaxed delicious sounds from your lips, soft gasps and breathy moans that hung heavily in the air. You were lost in a haze of pleasure, the world around you fading away, leaving just the two of you in this electrifying moment.

“God, you’re so sexy,” he whispered, his voice a low growl that sent another surge of heat coursing through you. His breath was warm against your hair, adding to the intoxicating frenzy building inside you.

You could feel the tightening coil of pleasure building within, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge. “Kats..,” you whimpered, unable to contain the need that bubbled within you. Your fingers dug deeper into his hips, pulling him closer, urging him to keep going, to take you higher.

He responded with a fierce intensity, his fingers moving faster, deeper—each thrust igniting a new spark of ecstasy that left you gasping for more. The way he controlled the pace, teasing just enough while driving you wild, was maddeningly exquisite.

“Let go,” he urged, his voice a sultry whisper that resonated in your very being. You surrendered completely, giving yourself over to the waves of pleasure that washed over you, losing yourself in the blissful connection between your bodies. "That's it, baby," he coos, his lips trailing down to your ear. "Come for me. Let me feel you come apart on my fingers."

His words push you over the edge, and you cry out, your pussy clenching around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. Katsuki doesn't let up, fucking you through your orgasm until you're boneless and spent.

"Fuck, that was cute," he growls, pulling his fingers from your dripping cunt. "But we're not done yet. I'm going to make you scream my name all night long."

He stands, quickly shedding the covers before grabbing your hips and flipping you over onto your hands and knees. You look back at him over your shoulder, your eyes widening as you take in his massive cock.

"K-Katsuki," you breathe, your pussy already throbbing with need again. "Please..."

"Shh," he soothes, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick folds. "I've got you, baby. I'm going to give you exactly what you need."

And with that, he slams into you, filling you up in one hard thrust. You cry out, your hands fisting in the sheets as he starts to move, pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes.

"Yes, fuck!" you moan, pushing back against him. "Harder, Katsuki! Fuck me harder!"

He obliges, his hips snapping against your ass as he fucks you with wild abandon. The room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans and his grunts mixing together in a filthy symphony.

"Fuck, your pussy feels so good," he groans, one hand reaching around to rub your clit. "So fucking tight and wet. You were made for my cock, weren't you?"

"Yes!" you cry out, feeling another orgasm building already. "Only yours, ‘tsuki! I'm yours!"

"That's right, baby," he growls, his thrusts getting harder, faster. "This pussy belongs to me. Now come for me one more time. Milk my fucking cock." His words send you spiraling over the edge once more, and you scream his name as you come, your pussy spasming around him. Katsuki follows shortly after, burying himself deep as he fills you with his hot seed.

You both collapse onto the bed, panting and sweaty, as the aftershocks of pleasure fade away. Katsuki pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"Fuck, that was amazing," he murmurs, his hands roaming over your curves. "But don't think we're done yet. I'm going to keep you up all night, making you pay for running from me."

You shiver at his words, already feeling the heat building in your core once more. With Katsuki, you know it's going to be a long, fucking night. You try to pull away, your arms trembling as Katsuki holds you in place. 

"N-no, please," you beg, your voice hoarse from screaming his name. "I can't take anymore. 'S so much."

But Katsuki just chuckles darkly, his grip tightening on your hips. "Too bad, Peach," he growls, his cock still buried deep inside you. "You're not going anywhere until I say so. And I'm far from done with this tight little pussy." He starts to move again, his thrusts slow and deep, as if he has all the time in the world. Your body responds instinctively, your hips rocking back to meet his, even as your muscles protest.

"Fuck, look at you," Katsuki purrs, one hand sliding up your spine to tangle in your hair. He pulls your head back, exposing your throat to his hungry mouth. "So desperate for my cock, even when you're begging me to stop."

He bites down on your neck, marking you as his as he fucks you harder, faster. The room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans mixing with his grunts.

"I'm going to ruin you," he promises, his voice rough with desire. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, so deep, that you'll never want anyone else. You’re all mine, mind, body and soul." 

His words send a shiver down your spine, even as a part of you recoils at the thought of belonging to anyone. But it's hard to think straight with Katsuki pounding into you, his cock hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars.

"Please," you whimper, not even sure what you're begging for anymore. "I want it..."

"That's it, baby," he praises, his thrusts getting harder, faster. "Beg for me. Beg me to fucking ruin you."

You do, your voice rising in pitch as the pleasure builds and builds. Just as you're about to come undone, Katsuki pulls out, leaving you empty and wanting.

"W-what?" you gasp, looking back at him with wide eyes. "Why did you stop?"

He smirks, flipping you onto your back and settling between your legs. "Because I said so," he growls, his hands pinning your wrists above your stomach. 

"And because I want to watch you fall apart for me."

He lowers his head, his tongue tracing your clit before sucking it into his mouth. You arch off the bed, crying out at the sudden sensation, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"Fuck, yes," Katsuki groans, his eyes locked on yours as he eats you out. "Come for me, baby. Let me taste you."

His tongue is relentless, teasing and stroking your most sensitive spots until you're shaking and writhing beneath him. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your vision whiting out as you scream his name. Katsuki doesn't let up, fucking you with his tongue through the aftershocks until you're boneless and spent. Then, finally, he climbs up your body, his cock sliding home once more.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours. "But we're not done yet, Peaches. Not by a long shot."

And with that, he starts to move again, fucking you into the mattress with deep, powerful strokes. You cling to him, your nails raking down his back as you meet him thrust for thrust. It's hard to imagine anything feeling better than this— Katsuki above you, surrounding you, claiming you as his own. But as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, you know that there's no going back.

He's going to ruin you, just like he promised. 

And God help you, but you don't want it any other way.

Katsuki pulls away, leaving you cold and aching on the bed. He stands over you, his eyes dark with desire and something else— a hunger that makes your blood run hot.

"You've been a bad girl, haven't you?" he growls, his voice low and rough. "Running from me, teasing me all night. You need to be punished."

He reaches out, grabbing you by the hair and dragging you to the edge of the bed. You gasp, your hands scrabbling for purchase on the sheets as he flips you over, bending you over his knee.

"Count," he commands, his hand coming down on your ass with a sharp smack. "And if you stop, we start over." You cry out, your body jolting at the sudden impact. But you quickly remember yourself, gritting out a shaky, 

"One!"

Katsuki smacks your ass again, harder this time. You count off another, your voice rising in pitch as the heat builds on your skin. He spanks you over and over, each blow landing on a different spot until your entire ass is blushing and stinging.

"Please," you whimper, tears streaming down your face. "It hurts."

" 'S supposed to," Katsuki says simply, his hand rubbing circles on your sore flesh. "You need to learn your lesson, bunny. You're mine, and you don't get to run from me." He flips you over again, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them apart. You whine, trying to close your legs, but he's too strong.

"No," he growls, holding you open. "You don't get to hide from me. I want to see every inch of you."

He lowers his head, his tongue tracing your slit before diving in deep. You cry out, your hips bucking against his face as he eats you out like a man starved.

"F-Fuck, you taste so good," he groans, his eyes locked on yours as he laps at your juices. "I could do this forever." He brings you to the edge, his tongue teasing your clit, before pulling back at the last second. You keen in frustration, your hands fisting in his hair.

"Please," you beg, your voice ragged. "I wanna cum."

"Beg for it," Katsuki demands, his breath hot against your sex. "Beg me to let you cum on my tongue."

You do, your words tumbling out in a rush as you plead for release. Finally, mercifully, he grants it, sealing his lips around your clit and sucking hard. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your vision whiting out as you scream his name. Katsuki doesn't let up, fucking you with his tongue through the aftershocks until you're boneless and spent.

But he's not done with you yet. He flips you over once more, his cock sliding in with one hard thrust. You cry out, your body still sensitive from your last orgasm, as he starts to move.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his hips snapping against your ass. "So tight and wet and perfect."

He fucks you hard and fast, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. The room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans mixing with his grunts.

"You're mine," he growls, one hand sliding up your spine to grip your hair. "Say it."

"I'm yours," you gasp, your voice breathless with pleasure. "All yours, Katsuki."

"That's right," he praises, his thrusts getting harder, faster. "And I'm going to fucking own you. You'll never want anyone else, ever again."

His words send a shiver down your spine, even as a part of you recoils at the thought of belonging to anyone. But it's hard to think straight with Katsuki pounding into you, his cock hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. You whimper, your hands scrabbling at the sheets. 

"I can't...I can't take anymore!"

But Katsuki just chuckles darkly, his grip on your hair tightening. "Oh, I think you can," he purrs, his voice rough with desire. "And you will. I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk, until the only thing you remember is my name." And with that, he starts to move faster, harder, fucking you into the mattress with deep, powerful strokes. Your body responds instinctively, your hips rocking back to meet his as the pleasure builds and builds. His left hand finds your own and threads your fingers together before his thumb rubbing and pressing into that spot on your hand. Call you crazy for focusing on that, but it only adds to the crazy pleasure ringing out in your body. 

Just as you're about to come undone, Katsuki pulls out, leaving you empty and wanting. You whine in protest, your body aching for his touch.

"Kat," you gasp, looking back at him with wide eyes. "Why’d you stop?"

He smirks, flipping you onto your back and settling between your legs. "Because I said so," he growls, his hands pinning your wrists above your head. 

"And because I want to watch you fall apart for me."

He lowers his head, his tongue tracing your clit before sucking it into his mouth. You arch off the bed, crying out at the sudden sensation, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"Fuck, yes," Katsuki groans, his eyes locked on yours as he eats you out. "Come for me, baby. Let me taste you. Never gettin’ tired of my fucking pussy."

His tongue is relentless, teasing and stroking your most sensitive spots until you're shaking and writhing beneath him. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your vision whiting out as you scream his name. Katsuki doesn't let up, fucking you with his tongue through the aftershocks until you're boneless and spent. Then, finally, he climbs up your body, his cock sliding over your sensitive folds once more.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours. "But we made a deal."

And with that, he starts to move again, fucking you into the mattress with deep, powerful strokes. You cling to him, your nails raking down his back as you meet him thrust for thrust. It's hard to imagine anything feeling better than this— your husband above you, surrounding you, claiming you as his own. As he brings you closer and closer to the edge, you know that there's no going back. You’d never want another. 

Katsuki holds you down on the bed, his weight pinning you in place as his cock slides in and out of your dripping pussy. You arch your back, trying to take him deeper, but he just chuckles darkly.

"Greedy little thing, aren't you?" he purrs, his breath hot against your ear. "Always so desperate for my cock." You whimper in response, your body aching for more. But Katsuki just pulls out, leaving you empty and wanting.

"Ahh!" you cry out, reaching for him. "Fuck you!"

He smirks, slapping your hand away. "Not yet, baby. You haven't earned it."

He flips you over onto your stomach, your face pressed into the mattress. You feel his hands on your ass, kneading the soft flesh, before he brings his palm down with a sharp smack. Katsuki loves the way the globe ripples, he could watch it all fucking day. You yelp, your body jolting at the impact. But before you can catch your breath, he spanks you again, harder this time.

"Get ready," he commands, his voice rough with desire. "’m gonna tear this ass up."

You count off each blow, your voice rising in pitch as the heat builds on your skin. You gasp and squeal as you feel his teeth meet your soft flesh while he plays with it. Squishing, squeezing, making it bounce in whatever direction makes his dick happy. Your round ass is pulsing by the time he's done, but you feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

"Please Daddy," you beg, your hips bucking back against him. "I want it."

And it almost works, the motion of your cute ass sending a hungry twitch straight to his cock. 

Almost. 

"Not yet," Katsuki says simply, trailing his fingers down your spine. "I want to play with this tight little ass first." You feel his fingers probing at your back entrance, and you clench instinctively. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your stinging flesh.

"Relax, baby," he coos, his voice suddenly gentle. "I'll make it feel good, I promise."

He works a finger inside you, slowly, gently, until you're pushing back against him. Then he adds another, scissoring them inside you as you moan and writhe beneath him. "Fuck, you're so tight," Katsuki groans, his breath coming faster. "I can't wait to feel this tight ass around my cock."

He pulls his fingers out, leaving you empty and aching. You hear the sound of a bottle popping open, and then his slick fingers are back, working your asshole open.

"I'm going to fuck this ass," he promises, his voice rough with desire. "And you're going to take it like my good little slut."

You whimper at his words, your body both terrified and excited by the prospect. But before you can respond, he's pushing inside you, his cock stretching you wide. You cry out, your hands fisting in the sheets as he starts to move. It's a slow, steady pace at first, but it quickly builds to something harder, faster.

"Fuck, yes," Katsuki groans, his hips snapping against your ass. "Take it, baby. Take my fucking cock." Your body responds instinctively, your hips rocking back to meet his as the pleasure builds and builds. Just as you're about to come undone, he pulls out, leaving you empty and wanting once more.

"No," you gasp, looking back at him with wide eyes. "Why?"

He smirks, flipping you over onto your back. "Because I wanted to see your face when I fuck this ass," he growls, lining himself up with your entrance. Katsuki pushes back inside you, his cock sliding deep as you cry out in pleasure. He starts to move again, fucking you hard and fast as he pins you down with one hand on your lower back.

"Fuck, I love this ass," he groans, his hips slapping against your reddened flesh. "I'm going to fucking ruin it."

You can only moan in response, your body shaking with pleasure as he pounds into you. Just as you're about to come, he pulls out once more. Katsuki pushes your knees up to your chest, spreading you wide open as he slides back inside your dripping pussy. You arch off the bed, crying out at the sudden sensation.

"Fuck, look at you," he groans, his eyes locked on yours as he starts to move. "So fucking needy and sensative. So perfect, all fucking mine."

You can only nod in response, your body his for the taking. He fucks you hard and fast, his cock hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. Katsuki leans down, his lips brushing against yours as he grinds against your clit with each thrust. "Come for me, Peaches," he purrs, his voice rough with desire. 

"Let me feel you come on my fucking cock."

Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your vision whiting out as you scream his name. Katsuki doesn't let up, fucking you through the aftershocks until he's buried deep and pulsing inside you.

"Damn," he groans, his forehead pressed against yours. "You're mine now, baby. All mine."

You can only nod in response, your body spent and satisfied. And as he pulls out, you know that there's no going back. You belong to Katsuki.

Restless, Katsuki pushes you onto your knees, his hand fisting in your hair as he guides your face towards his hardening cock. "Open up, slave," he commands, his voice rough with desire. "Show me how much you want to please your Master."

You obediently part your lips, your pretty pink tongue darting out to lick the head of his cock as he slaps it against your cheeks. You moan at the taste of him, your pussy already dripping with need.

"That's it, good girl," Katsuki praises, pushing his length past your lips. "Take it all like a good little fuck toy." You relax your throat, letting him slide in deeper as your hands grip his thighs. He starts to thrust, fucking your face with long, deep strokes that make you gag and choke around him.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he groans, his eyes dark with lust as he watches you struggle to take him. "I'm going to use all your holes tonight, slave. Your mouth, your cunt, your ass. They all belong to me."

You whimper around his cock, the thought of being used so thoroughly making your body ache with need. Katsuki pulls out, slapping your face with his slick shaft.

"Crawl to the pillows," he orders, releasing your hair. "On your hands and knees, ass in the air. I want to see that pretty little pussy dripping for me."

You scramble to obey, presenting yourself to him like the submissive slut you are. Katsuki climbs onto the bed behind you, spreading your cheeks wide as he licks a stripe up your dripping slit.

"Mmm, so wet," he purrs, his fingers circling your clit. "So desperate for my cock. Tell me how much you need it, slave."

"I need it, Master," you whimper, pushing your hips back against his face. "Please, I need your big cock stretching me open. I need you to fuck me hard and make me scream." Katsuki chuckles darkly, pressing a finger into your aching hole. "Nasty little Peach," he scolds, pumping his digit in and out. "You'll get what I give you when I give it to you and you’ll love it."

He removes his finger, leaving you empty and wanting. Then, without warning, he slams his cock into you, burying himself to the hilt in one hard thrust. You scream out, your body jolting at the sudden intrusion. Katsuki doesn't give you time to adjust, pounding into you with brutal force as his hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise.

"Yes, fuck!" you scream, your pussy clenching around him as he rails you into the mattress. "Harder, Daddy! Use me harder!"

Katsuki obliges, snarling as he hammers into you with wild abandon. The room fills with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans and his grunts mixing together in a filthy symphony.

"You're mine," he growls, one hand fisting in your hair and pulling your head back. "This pussy belongs to me. Say it."

"It's yours, Master," you sob, your body shaking with pleasure as he fucks you within an inch of your life. "All yours! Please, don't stop!"

Katsuki laughs darkly, biting down on your shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. "I'll stop when I'm fucking done with you," he promises, pounding into you even harder. "And trust me, bunny, we're far from done."

He keeps fucking you like a beast in rut, using your body for his own pleasure as you writhe and moan beneath him. Just as you're about to come undone, he pulls out, flipping you onto your back.

"Suck my cock," he commands, straddling your face and pressing the head of his shaft against your lips. "Get it nice and wet for that tight little G-spot of yours."

You obediently part your lips, taking him into your mouth as you suck and slurp around him. Katsuki groans above you, his hips rocking as he fucks your face.

"That's it, Peach," he praises, his voice strained with pleasure. "Get it ready for me."

He pulls out, wiping your spit off his cock before lifting your legs over his shoulders. You feel the blunt head of his shaft pressing against your asshole, and you tense instinctively.

"Relax," Katsuki soothes, rubbing circles on your lower back. "Let me in, slave. Let me claim this pussy." You take a deep breath, forcing your muscles to relax as he slowly sinks into you. It burns, stretching you wide open, but the pain quickly morphs into pleasure as he starts to move.

"Fuck, so tight," Katsuki groans, his eyes locked on yours as he eases in and out. "I could live in this pussy, baby. I'm going to fucking ruin it."

He picks up the pace, pounding into you with deep, hard thrusts that make you see stars. Your body responds instinctively, clenching around him as you moan and whimper beneath him.

"Yes, Katsuki!" you scream, your nails raking down his back. "Harder! Fuck me harder!"

Katsuki complies, his hips snapping against yours as he uses your hole like a vice. He leans down, capturing your lips in a brutal kiss as he fucks you into oblivion.

"That's my good little fuck toy," he praises between kisses, his voice rough with desire. "Taking my dick so well. You were made for this, weren't you? Made to be used and filled and fucked until you can't think straight."

You can only nod in response, your body shaking with the force of your impending orgasm. Katsuki feels it too, his thrusts getting harder, faster as he chases his own release.

"Cum for me," he demands, reaching between your bodies to rub hot tight circles around your clit. "Cum on my fucking cock like the desperate little slut you are."

Your final orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your vision whiting out as you scream his name. Katsuki follows shortly after looking into your eyes, burying himself deep and pulsing inside you as he fills you with his hot seed. He collapses on top of you, both of you panting and spent. But even in the afterglow, Katsuki's grip on you never loosens.

"Mine," he growls possessively, nuzzling into your neck. "All fucking mine."

The two of you finally stop, breathless and glowing with happiness. Katsuki tugs you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a protective warmth. He gently nuzzles against your cheek before pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "You okay?" he asks, his voice soft and laced with concern.

You nod, a giggle bubbling up as you snuggle into his neck. His hands trail over your body in comforting strokes, a loving rhythm that makes you feel cherished. "I'll take you to get your hair fixed tomorrow," he murmurs, a small smile playing on his lips. "But I still think it looks nice. Even when you're all sweaty and fucked out." A teasing glint sparkles in your eyes as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer. 

"You're such a good husband, Suki. Makes me wonder what you'd be like as a dad," you tease, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his back.

Katsuki's eyes darken with a mischievous glint, and before you know it, you're on your back again, your knees draped over his shoulders. His grin is wicked, but his touch is filled with adoration. 

“What—!”

"Ya know somethin’? I wouldn’ be a good husband ‘less I gave in to all of my wife’s wishes," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin. 

"So have it yer way, my love."

SO this was my first time writing a full length smut. How'd I do?

I DON'T OWN THE IMAGES!!!!

My requests are free and open.

Taglist from both of my master lists because I need to feed the cats: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @raendarkfaerie, @bunny-b34r, icey-wonders, @adherethecomingofage, @karaartioli-blog, @meoweoeoeosme, @faithisxreading, @faithisidking, @oh-kayyy-stan-bts, @shortie-chocolate, @rosaline756. @sweetlike-sugarplum. @aespie, @dancingqueen276, @erensbbg, @lillizxzz,

Master lists in question: Katsuki's Sugar baby, Katsuki's Ex who secretly had is baby

My master list is a work in progress but there's plenty more Katsuki, Aizawa, and other characters if you request them. Ao3 is sexy too.

You can also tip me a coffee if you want. (Just made it, so excited! \(≧▽≦)/ <33)

Remember: Comments and lives, they really help. Don't be afraid to leave me a sexy little reblog too.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ -Angie

[satellite-evans]

Le petit prince

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Summary: “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.”

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: fluff

A/N:

This is something that popped into my head and I couldn't help myself. It is not my best work and I am not quite familiar with Charles but I tried my best lol

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

It was an unspoken truth that the entire world seemed to be in love with your husband. His charming smile, his effortless elegance, the way he carried himself both on and off the track—all of it made him irresistible to anyone who laid eyes on him. And while you couldn’t deny that you adored these traits about him, they weren’t the reasons you fell so deeply in love with him.

No, it was his mind. His wisdom, his insatiable curiosity about the world, and his eagerness to share what he learned with you were what truly captured your heart.

Charles had an intellect that burned brightly beneath the surface of his public persona. He wasn’t just a racer; he was an observer, a thinker. The books he read, the documentaries he watched, the podcasts he consumed during long flights or lonely hotel nights—all of them painted a picture of a man who was deeply intrigued by the world around him. And it was so unbelievably attractive.

Unlike some men, who might lord their knowledge over others or diminish their partner for not knowing something, Charles shared his discoveries with a kind of boyish enthusiasm that made you want to listen, learn, and engage with him. It was as if every fact, every little piece of knowledge, was a gift he was excited to give you.

“Did you know,” he said one evening as you sat together on the balcony, the skyline glittering behind him, “that octopuses have three hearts? Two pump blood to the gills, and one pumps it to the rest of the body. But when they swim, the one pumping to the body stops. Isn’t that incredible?”

You leaned closer, resting your chin in your hand, completely enthralled. “That’s amazing, Charles. I didn’t know that.”

“I thought you’d like that one,” he said with a smile, his green eyes sparkling in the soft light.

Moments like these were your favorite. He was entirely himself with you, not the Formula 1 superstar the world admired, but the curious, tender-hearted man you had fallen in love with. He got as much joy from sharing these tidbits as you did from hearing them, and your enthusiasm only encouraged him.

You first met Charles in the most unassuming of places: a quiet little bookstore tucked away in the streets of Monaco. As a resident of the city, you often found solace wandering its hidden gems, especially the ones that felt untouched by the glittering extravagance Monaco was known for. This bookstore, with its creaky wooden floors and the faint scent of aged paper, had become your haven whenever life felt overwhelming. You had gone there on a whim, craving the comfort of an old favorite book, The Little Prince. Little did you know, that same book would change your life forever.

As your hand reached for the single remaining copy on the shelf, it collided with another. Startled, you looked up and met a pair of warm, hazel-green eyes. The faint scent of aged paper and leather bindings filled the air, mingling with the soft murmur of a distant conversation and the occasional creak of the wooden floorboards as other patrons moved about. For a moment, the world seemed to still, the gentle warmth of the bookstore wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. Charles. Even then, you knew who he was. It was impossible not to. But what struck you wasn’t his fame or his looks—though those were undeniably striking. It was the way he immediately stepped back, smiling apologetically.

“C'est à vous,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “Je vous en prie.” ("It's yours, I insist.")

“No, really, it’s okay,” you replied. “I can wait for another copy.”

But Charles wouldn’t hear of it. He purchased the book and handed it to you outside the store. “Only if you’ll let me buy you a coffee to make up for the trouble.”

The coffee turned into an hours-long conversation, one where you discovered a man who was so much more than the glamorous image the world saw. You spoke about everything and nothing—books you loved, your favorite childhood memories, and even silly debates like whether croissants or pain au chocolat reigned supreme. Charles shared stories about growing up in Monaco, how the roar of engines had always been a part of his life, but so had the quiet afternoons his mother would spend reading to him. He confessed his love for history, the way he found peace in learning about the past, and how it sometimes felt like the world moved too fast for him to keep up. You, in turn, told him about your passions, your quirks, the little things that made you feel alive. By the time the conversation ended, it felt as though you had known him for years, not just a few hours. He was kind, attentive, and curious about your thoughts on everything. By the time you exchanged numbers, your heart was already a little lighter, a little fuller.

Your relationship grew in the quiet spaces between his chaotic schedule and your own life. And yet, no matter how hectic things got, Charles always made you feel like you were the center of his world. He’d call you from far-flung locations, sharing the things he’d learned that day, whether it was a new French word he’d picked up or an interesting fact about the city he was visiting.

“Did you know that Kyoto has over 1,600 temples?” he asked one evening, his voice crackling slightly over the phone. “I wish you were here to see it.”

“Me too,” you said softly. “But tell me everything about it. What did you see today?”

And he did, painting vivid pictures with his words so that you felt as though you were right there beside him.

When Charles proposed, it was as though your entire world had crystallized into a single perfect moment. He took you back to that little bookstore where you first met, leading you inside under the pretense of looking for a book. But when you turned around, he was there on one knee, holding out a ring and looking at you like you were his entire universe.

“You’ve given me more than I ever thought I could have,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “A love that feels like home. A reason to keep learning, growing, and becoming a better man. Will you marry me?”

Through tears, you managed to say yes, and he swept you into his arms, laughing with pure, unfiltered joy.

Now, years later, you found yourself sitting together in your cozy living room, the remnants of his birthday party scattered around. Everyone had gone home, leaving just the two of you to share a quiet moment. Charles picked up the last gift, the one you’d been waiting all evening for him to open.

“Let’s see what this is,” he said, glancing at you with a playful smile. “You’re more excited than I am.”

“Just open it!” you urged, your hands fidgeting in your lap.

Carefully, he peeled back the wrapping paper, revealing the familiar cover of The Little Prince. For a moment, he just stared at it, his expression unreadable. Then he opened it and saw the inscription you’d written on the first page:

To my prince, who taught me that the most beautiful things in life are felt with the heart. Joyeux anniversaire, my love.

He looked up at you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You kept it?”

“Of course,” you said softly. “It’s where it all began.”

Charles set the book aside and pulled you into his arms, holding you as though he never wanted to let go. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he whispered into your hair. “Thank you for loving me, for seeing me, for being you.”

You buried your face in his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek. In that moment, the rest of the world faded away. It was just you and Charles, two hearts intertwined, finding solace and joy in each other’s presence.

And as he kissed you, slow and tender, you realized that you’d never need anything more than this. Because with Charles, you’d found your forever.

[badgraph1csghost]

just in case this video suddenly violates tumblr's community guidelines, here's the transcript:

I don't want to be an emperor, that's not my business. I don't want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone if possible: Jew, Gentile, Black man, white. We all want to help one another, human beings are like that.

We want to live by each other's happiness, not by each other's misery. We don't want to hate and despise one another. In this world, there's room for everyone; the good Earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful.

But, we have lost the way. Greed has poisoned men's souls. It has barricaded the world with hate. It has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed, but we have shut ourselves in.

Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical; our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery, we need humanity. More than cleverness, we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life would be violent and all will be lost.

The aeroplane and the radio have brought us closer together, the very nature of these inventions cries out for the goodness in men. It cries out for universal brotherhood, for the unity of us all.

Even now, my voice is reaching millions throughout the world. Millions of despairing men, women, and little children: victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people. To those that can hear me, I say: do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed, the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish.

Soldiers! Don't give yourselves to brutes! Men who despise you, enslave you, who regiment your lives! Tell you what to do, what to think and what to feel! Who drill you, diet you, treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder! Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men! Machine men with machine minds and machine hearts! You are not machines, you are not cattle, you are men! You have the love of humanity in your hearts! You don't hate; only the unloved hate. The unloved and the unnatural. Soldiers, don't fight for slavery, fight for liberty!

In the 17th chapter of the book of St. Luke, it is written that the Kingdom of God is within Man, not one man nor a group of men, in all men! In you! You, the people, have the power. The power to create machines, the power to create happiness! You, the people, have the power to make this life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure.

Then, in the name of democracy, let us use that power! Let us all unite! And let us fight for a new world! A decent world that will give men a chance to work, that will give you a future, and old age a security.

By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power. But they lie! They do not fulfill that promise, they never will! Dictators free themselves, the enslave the people!

Now, let us fight to fulfill that promise! Let us fight to free the world! To do away with national barriers, to do away with greed, with hate, and intolerance. Let us fight for a world of reason. A world where science and progress will lead to all men's happiness. Soldiers, in the name of democracy, let us all unite!

Because someone is on the ball, Turner Classic is playing (among other WWII films) The Great Dictator today.

If you haven't seen it, please do. It was produced by Charlie Chaplin in the late 1930s, when it became clear that the war was going to happen, and came out in 1940 after it had started. Essentially, Chaplin realized that his famous mustache was about to be usurped forever by a fascist, and that fascist was going to kill a lot more people in the future than he had already.

It's a parody, made before the worst horrors of the Nazi regime were known to the general public, so there is discomfort here (if you've seen Disney's Der Fuhrer's Face, you'll get the idea), but the movie ends with Chaplin essentially saying "fuck it, no one else seems to be speaking out about this and I'm going to use my platform to do that."

For context, this character is a Jew who has been mistaken for the dictator (for obvious mustache-related reasons), and has been sent onstage at a rally to give a speech. Instead of trying to impersonate Hitler, he says what he really thinks. And keep in mind, Chaplin was coming out of semi-retirement for this. It was the first time most people had ever heard him speak, and this is what he said:

[echo-riot]

Random dating thoughts (that slowly get more heated)

Abby Anderson Edition

Abby would insist on being your gym buddy and make a big deal about spotting you, even if you’re lifting the lightest weights. “Babe, safety first!” Meanwhile, she’s bench-pressing twice your body weight with ease.

She eats like she’s fueling a tank, so if you order fries, you better guard them with your life. But if you pout, she’ll reluctantly push her plate toward you. “Fine, take some… just not the chicken.”

She casually challenges you to arm-wrestling matches, and even if you lose every time, she makes a point of flexing and teasing: “Don’t feel bad—these guns are a gift, really.”

Abby has mastered the art of braiding hair thanks to her own routine, but she’s shockingly bad at braiding your hair because she gets nervous about pulling too hard. “How do you not sit still for this?!”

When she’s into you, her flirting style is a mix of being overly cocky and downright awkward. “I could totally carry you on my shoulders and outrun a horde. Wanna test it out?”

Abby has a fierce protective instinct. She’s the type to walk you home even if the world’s relatively safe, and she’ll always scan your surroundings for anything suspicious.

While she’s tough and stoic most of the time, Abby opens up about her past with you in small, vulnerable moments—usually when she feels safe in your arms.

Her love language would absolutely include acts of service. Whether it’s repairing your gear or making sure you have enough to eat, Abby shows her love by ensuring your needs are met.

She’d establish a small tradition, like watching the sunrise together after her early morning workouts, with you groggily sipping coffee while she teases you about “needing more gains.”

She’d lean on you during tough times but struggle to admit when she needs help. You’d have to gently remind her that being strong doesn’t mean carrying everything alone.

Once Abby Finds Out You Can’t Open Jars It’s over. She teases you constantly. She’ll swoop in with a dramatic, “Don’t worry, I got this,” flex her biceps unnecessarily, and pop it open in one try—every single time.

You Snore? She records it. Every time. Then uses it as leverage when you tease her about her overly serious workout routines. “You think I’m dramatic? Babe, listen to this masterpiece.”

You’d think she’d be bad at cooking, but she’s weirdly good. However, she only knows how to make portions that could feed a military base. “You said you were hungry. This is a reasonable amount of spaghetti.” (It’s not.)

Abby Learns About TikTok? She doesn’t really get it but becomes obsessed with the fitness trends. Suddenly, she’s asking you to record her doing ridiculous challenges, like trying to do pushups with you sitting on her back. (An:IM HAVING WHITHDRAWLS)

Abby is confident on the battlefield, but when it comes to dating, she can get a bit awkward. She stumbles over her words, especially if she’s nervous about impressing you.

Abby shows her affection by doing things for you, like fixing something you need or sharing her limited rations. She’s the type to ensure your boots are patched and your weapon is ready.

She loves teasing you, especially once she gets more comfortable. Whether it’s poking fun at your bad aim or how much you complain about patrols, it’s always lighthearted and affectionate.

Abby gives the best hugs—firm, warm, and grounding. She holds you tightly as if to shield you from the world.

While she’s strong and intimidating to others, she’s incredibly gentle with you. She’ll brush your hair out of your face, kiss your forehead, and hold your hand when you’re anxious.

Abby is always looking for small items that might make you happy—whether it’s a flower she finds, a worn-out book, or something she crafts herself.

In rare quiet moments, she’ll grab your hand and sway with you to the faint sound of music from an old record player or her own humming.

Her apologies are sincere and often accompanied by small actions to make it up to you, like offering to take over your duties for the day.

Once Abby falls for you, she’s all in. She’s fiercely loyal and will do anything to ensure your happiness and safety.

Though she struggles to express her feelings at first, over time she becomes more vocal about how much you mean to her. “You’re the reason I keep fighting” is something you’d hear her say during particularly tough days.

Abby doesn’t say “I love you” often, but when she does, it’s raw, heartfelt, and utterly sincere. She prefers to show her love in the little things—like keeping your favorite item safe or holding your hand just a little tighter in dangerous moments.

She watches you when you’re not looking, memorizing every little thing about you. If you catch her, she’ll smirk but won’t admit to it.

Abby tends to fidget around you—twisting a knife in her hand or adjusting her gear—especially when she’s nervous or unsure how to express her feelings.

Abby hates unresolved tension and prefers to address issues head-on, though her bluntness can sometimes make things worse.

She ensures you’re always safe in their post-apocalyptic world. Abby checks your surroundings meticulously, insists on teaching you self-defense, and would sacrifice everything to protect you.

Abby is the kind of partner who will always have your back, whether it’s a dangerous encounter or someone making a rude comment. She doesn’t tolerate disrespect towards you.

Watching her play fetch with a dog like Alice is a sight to behold. If you join in, she’ll grin from ear to ear, clearly smitten with the simple joy of the moment.

She brushes strands of hair out of your face or gently holds your chin to make you look at her when she wants your full attention.

Abby is attentive to your needs. If you’re upset, she won’t always have the right words, but she’ll stay by your side, offering silent comfort or a grounding hand on your shoulder.

Abby’s kisses are slow, purposeful, and full of intensity. At first, she’s gentle, her lips tenderly exploring yours as though she’s savoring the moment. But as the kiss deepens, her confidence takes over, and she becomes more demanding, pressing you against her with a firm grip on your waist.

She’s a fan of long, passionate kisses, often wanting to take her time to feel the connection. However, when she’s feeling playful or needy, she can turn it into something heated quickly.

Abby loves kissing you on your forehead, especially when she’s feeling particularly affectionate or protective. It’s her way of showing she cares without saying it

Your loyalty is something she treasures deeply, as she finds it hard to trust others, but with you, she feels safe to let her guard down.

Abby’s drawn to how you challenge her, whether it’s in casual conversations or in moments of intimacy, always keeping her on her toes and making her think.

She adores the way you show affection, especially when you offer small, tender gestures that demonstrate your care for her, like tracing her scars or offering her a quiet moment to breathe.

Abby’s not shy about leaving marks, especially when she’s feeling possessive or protective. She loves to mark you as hers, a reminder to anyone else that you belong to her.

She can be a little rough with you when she’s particularly heated, biting or sucking on your skin with a sense of urgency. She might even pause to admire the hickeys afterward, a slight smirk on her face as she watches you squirm from the heat (If you’ve been together for a while, Abby might leave little marks in places only the two of you know about, as a private symbol of her affection and control.)

Abby’s dirty talk is rough, no holds barred, and calculated. She’s all about taking control and making you beg for it, and she doesn’t hold back from calling you names or pushing your buttons in all the right ways.

Abby doesn’t give up control easily. She’s a hard dom, and she expects you to follow her lead. It turns her on to see you submit to her

she loves spanking you. It could start slow, just a teasing tap, but it escalates quickly as she sees how much it turns you on. She’ll mark you up, and the sting from the slap on your ass stays with you long after she’s done.

While missionary can feel intimate, Abby likes to switch things up by pinning your wrists above your head and giving you no escape. It’s a perfect position for eye contact, and she enjoys how much control it gives her over your pleasure.

Abby gets off on lifting you, pinning you up against a wall or any available surface. The feeling of holding you up while taking you hard and fast turns her on

Abby isn’t gentle when she uses a strap-on. She goes all in, thrusting deeply, making you take all of it, all while commanding you to take her. She’ll order you to stay still, make you beg, and won’t let you move until she tells you to.

She loves watching you as she fucks you with the strap-on. Seeing your face contort with pleasure, the way you squirm beneath her, and hearing the moans and gasps you can’t hold back only heightens her desire. She’ll often tease you about how desperate you look.

Sometimes, Abby enjoys taking her time, slowly sliding in and out, building the intensity. She’ll alternate between gentle thrusts and hard, punishing ones. She likes to see how much you can handle before she goes faster or harder.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Lunch Date

Summary: Steve Rogers x fe!Reader -> You have a lunch date with Steve Rogers before you realise who he is to the rest of the world.

Disclaimer: This has been sat in my WIP for a while. Mostly fluff, humour? Reader works as a historian. I haven't written for any MCU characters for a while so hopefully this isn't terrible. Not Proof Read.

If someone had told you when you were six years old and running through the park playing superheroes that one day you would be having lunch with the Steve Rogers…

You probably would have believed them since you were six and was going to have lunch with your next door neighbour who was the one with the trash can lid as a shield. 

But it was true. 

You’d been working at the museum since you graduated from University. First as just a tour guide but it wasn’t long before a spot opened up to become one of the curators. Mostly you worked with war artifacts. You still did the tours, though. 

You found it fun, walking a new group around every couple of hours, seeing their faces light up with wonder as they looked at the plane parts and the genuine diaries of some of the soldiers. 

Then one day after finishing the second tour of the day, you took your lunch break. 

“I’m sorry, is this seat taken?”

You looked up and found a man dressed in a blue shirt and black trousers. He was handsome, but the thing you noticed was the look in his eyes. 

Kindness. 

“No, go ahead.”

You were a little surprised when he sat down, rather than taking the chair to another table. But when you looked around, you noticed how busy the place had gotten. 

“Sorry for disturbing you.” The stranger nodded over to the book that was laid open at the side of you. 

You shook your head. “It’s no issue. Besides, I think I’ve read the same page three times.”

It was from him asking what you were reading that you started continuing the conversation to the point where you’d learned he’d actually taken one of your tours once. 

“Be honest with me, is it boring?”

“Boring?” He shook his head. “No. Not at all.”

You gave a sigh of relief. “Are you sure?”

He gave you a genuine smile. “Of course, I’m sure. Why? Did someone give you a bad review?”

You shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Sounds like there’s a story there.”

You laughed a little. “There is-” 

You caught a glimpse at your watch and almost died. “Shit- sorry. Shoot, I’m gonna be late.”

He panicked along with you. “I’m sorry if I kept-”

You shook your head as you went to stand and pack your things away. “No, no. Trust me, it’s not often I enjoy a conversation so much that I lose track of time. I-I have to get to another tour but if you…” You were about to offer him your number but then you thought of something a little better. “Actually, would you like to tag along? I-I know you’ve seen it before but if you’re not doing anything…”

And for a moment, you thought you’d fucked up. But then he smiled. 

“I’d love to.”

“Great.” You looked at your watch again. “I-I will meet you there. I have to hand out the fact sheets and- you already know. See you there?”

He smiled. “See you there.”

You smiled too before rushing off in the opposite direction. By the time you were catching your breath, half way through handing out instructions, facts sheets, some promotional sheets, too, he met you there. 

“Hi, again.”

You smiled, handing him his pile. “Hi.”

And for the next hour you led him and the rest of the group on a tour of the museum giving every fact you already knew and each time you looked back to the tour group, he caught your eye and you found yourself unable to stop smiling. 

You probably looked like some mad cheshire cat by the end of the tour; especially after you and him continued your conversation privately as the tour group were given freedom for ten minutes to look around one of the larger exhibits. 

“You know what I’ve just realised?”

“What is that?”

“I don’t know your name.” You said as you looked up at him. “I’m Y/n, by the way.”

He smiled and shook your hand. “Steve.”

“Nice to officially meet you, Steve.”

“Same to you, Y/n.”

By the time the tour finished and everyone dispersed either to go home or return to the exhibits they wanted to spend more time in, you and Steve took a walk back around the museum. 

“So, what brings you here? If you’ve already been before, why come again?”

Steve shrugged. “I had free time and I was in the city. Plus, it’s nice to come somewhere that feels familiar.”

“Familiar?”

Steve didn’t know how to answer your question without completely telling you who he actually was, or completely lying. 

“I grew up with a lot of historical stuff so sometimes walking around a museum can feel like home.”

You smiled and looked around. “I know what you mean.”

The museum, ever since you were a kid, had felt like a second home. One filled with even more wonder and amazement. 

Then Steve asked you a question. 

“Forgive me if this is a little forward, but would you like to have dinner with me this week?”

You stopped walking and turned towards him. 

“I’ve been told I’m meant to direct message and do a lot of ‘in between’ conversations but, if I’m being honest, I don’t see the point in it.”

You couldn’t help but smile. 

“But if you have someone already, or if you don’t want to, you can just…tell me to leave and you never-”

You stepped forward a little and laid your hand on his arm. “Steve, Steve, Steve. Stop. I would love to have dinner with you. And thank you for asking me.”

Then that smile that you’d come to find comfort in, despite only meeting him a few hours ago, flashed onto his face. 

“Thank you for saying yes.”

It took two days from swapping numbers at the museum for you to both find a time you were available and for Steve to turn up outside your apartment with a bunch of flowers in his hand. 

“These are for you. I-I didn’t know if you were allergic to any so I picked the ones that shouldn’t affect you as much if you were.”

You politely took them from him and smiled. “They’re beautiful, Steve. Thank you. Let me just find a vase.”

You invited him in and he slowly walked a little further into your apartment, taking everything all in. Your walls were lined with dark wooden bookshelves where an array of different books were stationed. A desk was under one of the windows where sheets of paper were cast. Your sofa was worn in, but not in a bad way. It was well-loved and looked after. Your kitchen was similar. He could imagine you on a Sunday morning cooking yourself dinner as one of the movies from under your TV were playing inside the DVD player. 

Placing the flowers in the centre of the kitchen island, you grabbed your bag and Steve followed you out of the door. 

Every door you came to, Steve held it open for you. He walked on the outside of you as you both walked down the street since the restaurant wasn’t too far from your apartment block. He held out your chair for you before seating himself. It was the first date you’d been on in a long time where the guy hadn’t ordered for you. The conversation was constantly flowing, so were the smiles and the laughter. At some point between you going to the bathroom and coming back, the bill had been paid for. 

If he had waited, you would have fought him to split it, but it was nice to accept something for a change. He helped you get your coat on and for the next hour, you both just walked through the city. 

It was still relatively early so you just walked and talked. At some point, he’d taken your hand in his. Your gut had erupted in butterflies, and so had his. Especially when you leaned a little into him and held onto his arm. 

And as you both reached a small community park, you sat on the bench together. 

That was where you had your first kiss. It was equal parts shy, unnerving and steady. With his arm around your shoulders and his other hand holding onto yours, you found something in your kiss with Steve. 

It was unlike any other you’d experienced. It wasn’t lustful or yearning. But it was…strong. Your head, heart, gut and lungs were doing summersaults inside your body, but at the same time, you felt safe. 

Almost as if, despite it being your first kiss, it also felt like your millionth with him. 

And you both couldn’t help but want more. 

However, that was cut short by the ringing phone in your pocket. 

“Shit, sorry.”

Steve just laughed a little. “It’s okay.”

Pulling it from your pocket, the Museum ID badge flashed across the top. “It’s work.”

“Answer it.”

You did so and pulled the phone to your ear. 

“O-okay, just, stay calm. I’ll be right there.”

“Is everything okay?” Steve asked. 

“There’s something about a shipment. I think I need to go.”

Steve just nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

“Thank you.”

Taking his hand, you both hurried back towards your apartment where Steve helped you onto the back of his motorbike. 

“Are you sure this is safe?”

Steve gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m sure. Just hold on tightly.”

And you did. 

By the time he pulled up outside of the museum, the lights were still on inside but all the shutters were down except for one. You unclipped the helmet and hopped off before hearing your heels click up the stone stairs towards the door. 

Steve was quick on your tail following you through the museum and towards the employees only area. Finally, you both made it to the storage lock-up. 

“I’m here, what’s going on?”

“We’ve been sent these but there’s apparently been a mix up with the deliveries. All the fact cards and processing files are missing and the exhibits are meant to be ready for Monday.”

You took a breath and looked at all the new crates surrounding you. “Okay. Okay, it’s okay.”

Immediately, you got to work. 

“I’m sorry about this.”

“Don’t apologise. Do you want some help? I don’t know what I can do but I might be able to do something.”

You nodded. “That would be amazing.”

Setting Steve to work helping move some of the crates out of the way so they could be opened. Most of the items were from the thirties and forties, but mostly early war days. 

Which, you soon came to find out, was a personal favourite of Steve’s when he, somehow, knew what each item was and where it was from. Between the heavy lifting, directing and processing, you heard him mention something about cereal numbers and a manufacturer he had met. 

But despite all of that, the biggest shock was still yet to come to you. 

There was a piece of a plane that was delivered. You had made some estimations for when it was made and who for when Steve had given you an exact date and a few different locations. 

That was when something clicked. 

You didn’t know why it had only just clicked, or why it had taken you so long to realise, but it had. 

And something must have clicked for Steve, too. 

You gasped. “Oh, my god!”

One of the other curators looked at you. “What?”

You looked at some of the artifacts before looking at Steve and back again. Between the shock on your face that you tried to swallow back, Steve grinned. 

“N-nothing.” You plastered a smile on your face. “Nothing. I just thought I’d seen…” You looked at Steve and your words trailed away, but you snapped yourself back into reality. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter. Sorry.”

The curator just shrugged and went back to trying to contact the shipping company of the items. 

“Oh, my god. I can’t believe it…no, no you’re not. Are you? No, you can’t be. But the…” You put your head in your hands, finally accepting it. “Oh, my god, you are.”

Steve just chuckled and walked over to you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Didn’t tell me?” You lowered your hands and looked at him. “I’m sorry it didn’t click sooner. I’m a historian for crying out loud, I should have known. I’m so sorry.” 

You hid your head in your hands again as you heard Steve chuckle. Gently holding onto your wrists, he lowered your hands from your face.

“Does this change anything?”

“Steve,” you lowered your voice. “You’re freaking Captain America.”

“But does it change anything?”

“Not particularly, no. But you’re…you’re a superhero. You-you’re an Agent and a superhero. You rescue people for a living and put your life on the line. Oh, my god, I can’t believe I asked you what you did for a living. Is this even legal? Are you allowed to go on dates with total strangers who don’t do some kind of highly secure, world-saving, job and, like, Shield level background checks?”

“Why? Is there something I should know about?”

You leaned back, realising how it sounded. “What? No. No, nothing. Not unless I’ve done something I didn’t realise I did. No, nothing.”

Steve smiled. “Relax, I was kidding. God knows I lied enough times to try and get into the army.”

“Wow, is Captain America a rule breaker?”

He just chuckled. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

“Does this mean I have to salute you?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Good, because I don’t know how to salute. I’d probably do it wrong anyway.”

Steve laughed once more before pulling you into his chest. “I can’t believe I didn’t realise.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. It was nice for someone to treat me as me without them treating me like Captain America.”

As you leaned back from him, you admitted something to him. “I feel like my history degree is going to be taken off me for not knowing.”

Steve laughed, rubbing his hand up and down your spine before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Come on, let's get this packed away.”

A few hours later, items that could be given an info card were before being locked away safely with the rest. 

Steve drove you home and walked you to your front door. 

“I’m sorry our date got cut short.”

Steve just shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Besides, it was kinda fun having it come full circle with us back at the museum. It was also fun seeing you figure out how I knew what everything was.”

You groaned a little. “I can’t believe it never clicked with me, but I am kinda glad it didn’t. It was nice to get to know you.”

“Do you still want to?”

You nodded slowly. “So long as it’s Steve and not Captain America.”

Steve smiled and nodded. “It will be, I can promise you that.”

You smiled. “Good, I’m glad.”

Kissing you goodnight, Steve waved up at you from the street below before riding back home, already planning your next date. 

[crowsofdarkness]

Soulmates: One Shot

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Trope : Soulmates

Word Count: 6,945

Content Warnings: language, angst, mentions of death/murder, mention of drinking.

Summary: Growing up, reader had been told stories about how you would dream your soulmates memories, something you never believed in. That was until someone new moves in next door and nightmares plague you every night.

A soft sigh left my lips as I finally stepped foot into my apartment. After the long day of law school and a double bartender shift, I was beyond exhausted. I tossed my bags and keys on the kitchen table and fell onto the sofa with a loud groan. 

“Ugh, I wish someone was here to massage my feet,” I groaned to myself. 

With a quiet meow, my black cat named Salem, jumped up on my stomach and purred his demands for ear scratches. 

“As much as I love you Salem, I don’t think your paws are big enough to massage out the knots in my feet from today.” I smiled. 

After a meow of disappointment, he jumped off my lap and retreated to his chair in the corner of the living room. I let out a disgusting loud yawn as I made my way towards my kitchen, hoping I could find some form of leftovers that I could call dinner. 

“Nothing like cold pizza for the third night in a row,” I said while taking a large bite. 

The silence throughout my apartment was deafening. It was only Salem and I for the past six years and I wouldn’t change it for anything. 

A relationship wouldn’t actually be the worst thing in the world but between law school five days a week and shifts at the bar four days a week, I barely had enough time to go grocery shopping or clean my apartment. On my off days, I spent it either showering or sleeping for half of the day. 

My mother used to tell me of an old folk lore that her family used to believe while she was growing up. ‘Soulmate dreamers.’ She claimed that two people who are destined to be together dream of each other's memories; soulmates. My parents were soulmates but I still couldn’t believe the folk tale. Every single night I wouldn’t dream, just a blackness. It had been like that every night since I turned eighteen and as the years passed, I started to give up hope. 

“Buck, be careful with that. GOD DAMNIT!” 

Squinting my eyes at the sudden crash coming from the hallway, I ran over to my door and slowly opened it. Two men stood outside my door, both bent at the knees picking up a pile of books that seemed to have fallen out of a box. With the sound of my locks coming undone, the two men looked up and with a sheepish smile, the blonde nodded towards me. 

“I’m so sorry if we woke you.” His lips turned down in a small frown underneath his beard. 

I shook my head. “No, you didn’t. I just heard a crash and some yelling.” 

“Yeah butterfingers over here let the box slip,” the blonde nodded towards the other man. 

He had longer hair than the blonde and his beard was shorter than the blondes but something about his eyes froze me in place. Under his long sleeves, I could see his muscles tensed as he lifted up a large pile of books. 

“Uh-moving out?” I questioned after forcing myself to look away from the muscles. 

“In,” the blonde set down another box before extending his hand. “Steve.” 

My hand was small in his and the roughness of it scratched my palm. 

“Y/N.” 

I looked over to the other man but noticed that his back was towards me. He walked down the hall a few steps before stepping through an open door into the apartment right next to my own. 

“Buck’s not that great with new people,” Steve defended. 

My brows quirked up. “Buck?”

“Bucky or James. But I call him Buck,” Steve informed.

“Well, Steve, what brings you and Bucky here to Brooklyn?” I questioned while leaning against my open door frame. 

“Retirement.” 

“Aren't you guys a little young to retire?” I joked. 

He shrugged with a laugh. “We started our careers really young. Now we’re looking for something quiet.” 

“Well you guys are in luck because nothing happens here. It’s a pretty boring part of town.” I said. 

“Eh, doesn’t seem that bad. The neighbors are pretty cute,” Steve smirked. 

My cheeks blushed warm and after a quick nod, I pointed over my shoulder. “Goodnight Steve.”

Steve returned my smile. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

My body felt trapped as if someone was sitting on my chest while my arms and legs thrashed around my bed. I tried to speak, to yell, but my voice was in a vice grip as the nightmare forced me to listen to the screams and cries of strangers. Flash images of a sniper and a man dressed in black faded in and out before completely fading to black. 

I awoke in bed with a scream and looked around my room. The fear that I felt from those strangers in my dream ate away at me, something I couldn't shake; no matter how hard I tried. My heart hammered against its cage in my chest as I took deep breaths to calm myself down.  

“What a freak nightmare,” I groaned while rubbing the sleep from my eyes. 

Falling back to sleep was a distant memory and I had to force myself out of bed as another fun day of school all day with a closing bar shift right after standing in front of me. 

“Salem, do you want breakfast?” I questioned my feline companion as I came out of the bathroom, dressed for the long day ahead of me. 

After a quick scratch to Salem's head, I grabbed my bags and was out the door, large coffee in hand. 

“Morning, Y/N.”

“FUCK!” I cursed, almost dropping the large cup and placing a hand over my chest. 

Steve stood in front of me, hands up in defense. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

I let out a small breath of relief. “Oh, Steve. It’s okay, it's not your fault. I didn’t sleep much last night so I’m a little jumpy.” 

“That would explain the extra large coffee,” Steve smiled. 

“I wouldn’t survive law school without it,” I admitted. 

Steve’s eyes raised. “Law school, huh?” 

“Yeah, I’m in my final year. I’ve got exams today and Monday so I need all the coffee I can consume.” I smiled proudly. 

“Well, I’ll let you get going. Have a good day, Y/N.” Steve gave me a small smile. 

“You too, Steve.”

“You’re late.” 

Giving a sheepish grin to my manager, I said a quick apology while throwing my bags underneath the bar. “My exam ran long. But I can stay late if you need me.” 

A laugh erupted from my manager, Kim. “Nice try, Y/N. You’re already closing.” 

“Well it's the thought that counts,” I joked. 

It was well past six in the evening and the bar was jam packed, wall to wall with bodies getting ready to watch the football game. Friday nights were my favorite nights to work; a lot of people getting drunk and literally throwing their money towards me. 

Yet I also hated working Friday nights; the countless men throwing vulgar sayings towards me and trying their hardest to get my number. 

The next couple hours blurred together as I made drinks and small talk with many of my regulars. I had my back turned to the only two empty seats alongside the bar as I had an all too familiar conversation with one of my regulars, Becky. 

“Y/N, you’ve got to get out there and meet someone!” She slurred while raising her beer. “How long has it been since you’ve gone on a date?”

“The only dates I get are the ones with you and my homework,” I smiled at her. 

“Here’s your chance! Look at the two new guys at the other end of the bar. I haven’t seen them here before,” she hiccuped. 

Looking over my shoulder, I found myself smiling at the familiar blonde and brunette who had their eyes glued to the drink menu. 

Excusing myself from Kim’s rant about how she would like to “take them to bed”, I stopped in front of Steve and Bucky with a large smile on my face. 

“Well look who we have here,” I sang while placing my forearms on the bar and leaning over towards them. 

It was hard to hear in the packed bar. 

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Steve smiled. 

Bucky remained quiet, eyes still glued towards the drink menu so I kept my attention on Steve. 

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Steve.” I reminded him. “So what are we drinking?”

Steve and Bucky had a quick and quiet conversation before Bucky nodded behind me. 

“Whatever you have on tap is fine.” 

I couldn’t help but freeze and blink at the sound of his voice. Something about it rang a large bell in my brain but I couldn't put a finger on what. 

“Uh, yeah sure. Of course.” I nodded. 

My hands shook as I poured their drinks, trying to calm my shaking hands. I let out a few breaths before returning back to them, a smile playing at my lips. 

“Here ya go. Did you want to keep your tab open?” I asked. 

Steve nodded. “Yeah we’re not in a rush.” 

I nodded back and as I placed their drinks in front of them, I noticed Bucky went to grab it with his left hand that was covered with a leather glove. Not wanting to stare and be weird, I coughed while throwing a thumb over my shoulder. 

“I’ve got to make my rounds. Let me know if you guys need something.” 

A quick ten minutes passed by as I refilled many drinks and small talked before I decided to check on Bucky and Steve. I noticed, however, that Steve’s stool was empty and Bucky was staring at the TV behind the bar. 

The same weird feeling filled my veins and I took a deep breath hoping that whatever this feeling was that it would disappear soon. 

“Need a refill?” I motioned towards his almost empty glass. 

“Sure, thank you,” He nodded. 

“Would Steve like one?” I asked. 

“Yeah, he only stepped out for a call.” 

After filling up their glasses, I placed it back on the bar. “Let me know if you need anything else.” 

I could tell by the way his shoulders tensed and the way he kept his hands grasped together on the bar that he did not want to have a conversation, he wanted to be left alone. 

As the night went on, I couldn’t help but think of why Bucky wore the glove on his left hand. Maybe he was missing fingers? Or maybe his left hand gets colder than his right? 

“Christ Y/N, you don’t even know him and you can't stop thinking about him,” I muttered to myself as I wiped down the counter.

“Thinking about who?” Kim asked as she came up from behind me. 

“Can you not give your best bartender a heart attack, please?” I exasperated while clutching my chest. 

“Could you be thinking about the two men sitting at the end of the bar?” Kim raised her eyebrows in a suggestive way. 

Giving a quick glance over her shoulder, I noticed that Steve and Bucky were still in their same spots, slowly nursing their third beer. They both looked like they were not in a rush to leave. 

Not that I was complaining. 

“They’re my new neighbors,” I admitted. “I can’t help but wonder about them.” 

“That’s a threesome I would love to be a part of.” Kim giggled. 

Shaking my head with a laugh, I motioned towards the stack of clean cups that were just placed on the bar. “I have work to do, Kim.” 

As I stacked the cups on the bar, I sensed someone sitting in the seat in front of me. I didn’t have to look up to see who it was, I could feel the creepiness ooze out of him. 

“What do you want, Mike?” I asked, not stopping what I was doing. 

“Go out with me,” Mike slurred while finishing off his beer. 

I shook my head. “You ask me out every Friday night and I always say no. When are you going to get it?” 

“C’mon. You’re saying no because you don’t know what you’re missing. Just one date.” 

“The reason why I always say no is because of your pregnant wife that waits for you to come home every night,” I informed while finally meeting his gaze. 

“She doesn’t have to know,” Mike grabbed my hand, a little too rough for my liking. 

“I’m only going to say this once, let go.” I stated, voice firm and not faltering. 

“Just one kiss?” His lips puckered as he started to lean over the bar. 

“She already said no. If you need help understanding, I’d be happy to help.” 

My eyes landed on Bucky who was now standing next to Mike and the way his shoulders tensed under his leather jacket made my stomach tingle. Mike dropped my hand before sauteing away, embarrassed he was turned down yet again. 

“Thank you,” I said to Bucky. “He comes in every Friday and still won’t take the hint I’m not interested.”

Bucky nodded with a small smile. “Anytime.” 

We fell in silence as our eyes locked and the blue color of his eyes rang that bell in my brain again. Something about those eyes were so familiar but I couldn’t tell how. 

“Um, did you and Steve need anything?” I asked, hoping to ease the sudden tension between us. 

“We’re ready to close the tab,” he stuttered for a moment, obviously feeling the sudden weird feeling that wrapped around us. 

A quick second later, I handed him the receipt with a quick thank you. “I’ll see you guys around?” 

Bucky nodded and handed back the receipt signed before walking out of the bar with Steve, who gave me a quick wave goodnight. 

I paid no attention to the name on the receipt, the $100 tip clipped to it immediately taking my attention. 

“Mom, I still have one more semester before I graduate. We shouldn’t be planning a party yet. Yes, I passed all of my exams. I have a two week break before classes start up again. No, I think I’m going to stay home and enjoy some me time. Oh god, no mother I will not go ask my neighbors to hang with me! I really wish I never told you about them. Alright, I’m hanging up now, love you.” 

With a loud sigh, I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the couch with my body following. I had finished my last exams the other day and after passing them all, I decided to celebrate with a two week vacation from work. Just Salem and I in our apartment watching crappy movies and eating crappy food. 

I didn’t want to tell my mom that another reason why I wanted to stay home and recoup is because of the nightmares I was having. Every night for the last two weeks, I dream of people screaming and dying. The terrors kept me up and I was amazed that I was able to finish this semester without failing. 

“Where is that cat anyway?” I questioned while standing up from the couch. “Salem, baby, where are you?”

After looking in all of his favorite hiding spots twice, it was when I walked back into the living room that I finally noticed the front door was open just a tad; enough for him to walk through. 

I was on the phone with my mom when I returned back from my morning shift at work and must have forgotten to shut the door behind me. 

“Fuck,” I cursed while running out into the hall. “Salem?!” 

A door clicked open and Steve was in the hall, a worried look on his face. “Hey, everything alright?” 

Letting out a shaky breath, I shook my head. “My cat got out and I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Is he black?” Steve questioned while leaning against his doorframe. 

“Yeah, have you seen him?” I asked, hopeful. 

Steve only nodded and motioned for me to follow him. 

Once in his apartment, I found myself breathing a large sigh of relief at the sight in front of me. Salem was lounging on their couch cuddling with a beautiful white, long haired cat. 

“It seems like Salem found himself a girlfriend,” Steve laughed. 

“I didn’t know you guys had a cat,” I said while picking up Salem and giving him love. 

Steve motioned me to sit on the couch, which I happily obliged. “Alpine is Bucky’s.”

“Well, she’s adorable. If Salem goes missing again, I’ll know where to look.” I giggled as Salem jumped from my lap and laid next to Alpine again. “Thank you for finding him.”

“Would you like anything to drink?” Steve questioned. 

Immediately I shook my head. “No, I should probably go. We’ve imposed enough.” 

I said the last part towards Salem mostly and went to leave but Steve shook his head. 

“You’re not. Salem is welcome here anytime. You too.” 

Steve’s small smile warmed my heart and I found myself lounging into the couch. “Thank you.”

We made small talk for a while, him asking how my semester finished at school, and I swore I never told him about finishing but waved it off. I’ve been so tired lately that I could have easily forgotten to tell him. 

“So how are you and Bucky liking Brooklyn?” I asked. 

Steve leaned back into the couch and rested his arm across the back of it. “We both actually grew up here. We left for work and decided to spend the rest of our days here.” 

Something about the way that Steve said put a little fear and hesitation in me. Even with his long hair slicked back and his full beard covering his face, something about him rang some sort of familiarity in me. 

“So,” I started, deciding to change the subject hoping the fear would disappear, “Where is Bucky?”

Steve’s brows perked at my interest in his roommate's whereabouts. “What, I’m not good enough for the company?” 

A loud giggle left my lips. “Eh, you’re alright.” 

We both shared a loud laugh and suddenly, the front door opened and a very sweaty Bucky entered the apartment. My eyes locked in on his broad chest that the muscles were defined in his extra tight Henley. The long sleeves encased his large arms and when I noticed the leather glove on his left hand again, I quickly averted my gaze back to his face. To my surprise, he was doing the same to me. 

His eyes took in my tired appearance and when they rested on Salem next to me, a small smile came to his lips. “You just can't stay away from Alpine, can ya buddy?” 

My eyes doubled in size. “He’s been here before?!” 

Bucky walked into the kitchen and took a long swig of water before nodding. “A few times now. I found out he walks through the fire escape and comes in through the open window in my bedroom.” 

I looked at Salem, appalled that he was having these little rendezvous. 

“So that’s what you’ve been doing while I’ve been gone?” I asked him. 

His face said everything he would if he could talk. 

Absolutely zero fucks given. 

“I’m so sorry that he keeps on bothering you guys.” I apologized to them. 

“It’s alright, we don’t mind him.” Steve informed as Salem jumped into his lap. 

The clock on the wall let me know that I was here for over an hour. “Well, I’ll let you guys get back to your night.”

Salem followed suit as Steve walked us to the door, showing us out. Bucky remained in his place in the kitchen and I felt his gaze on me as I walked out.

“No, please!” 

My body was locked into place on my bed, the nightmare pressing down on me. 

“I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t kill me!”

Soft whimpers escaped my closed lips as hands wrapped around a throat, cutting off their airway. 

The scene changed to a large room with a chair in the middle. Screams were heard bouncing off the walls, screams of pain and despair. A man dressed in an old army uniform stood in front of me, a language I had not known coming from his lips. He only spoke ten words. 

Longing. 

Rusted. 

Seventeen. 

Daybreak.

Furnace. 

Nine. 

Benign. 

Homecoming. 

One.

Freight car. 

Even though it was in a language I hadn’t heard before, I understood every single word. 

“Soldat?” 

“Ready to comply.” 

The voice came from my own throat and I awoke in a quick start, a loud scream ringing throughout my apartment. I shook with fear, that voice sounded so familiar and it shook me to the core knowing that a different voice came through me. 

A loud knock sounding at my front door caused me to jump from my bed, my body falling onto the floor with a hard thud. I backed myself into the corner of my room as the knocking continued, afraid that whatever nightmare I was having was coming true. 

“Y/N?” 

Bucky’s soft voice sounded outside my front door and with a quick jump, I was at my door, opening it slightly. 

I was met with his very tired eyes and suddenly felt guilty for waking him up from my nightmares. 

“Hey, I heard you screaming. Is everything alright?” He questioned while peaking over my head into my apartment. 

“I’m sorry for waking you. I just had a bad dream, that’s all.” 

My voice came out hoarse and quiet. 

Bucky nodded. “Okay. Well, let me know if you need anything, alright?” 

Giving him a small smile of thanks, I shut the door and quickly locked it. Not before noticing that he only kept his left hand in his pocket the entire time. 

I sat up in bed, arms wrapped around my knees that were pulled up against my chest, afraid that if I fell asleep again that I would have another nightmare. The sun was casting a golden glow in my room and the warmth felt nothing against my cold skin. 

After Bucky left, I couldn’t find it in myself to fall back asleep so I tried everything I could to stay awake; multiple cups of coffee, listening to music, and watching countless movies. I was starting to lose the fight, feeling exhausted and before I could stop myself my body fell onto the mattress, sleep winning. 

Two men dressed in suits walked up stairs to an apartment. The warm summer breeze blowing through their hair. My hand extended towards the other man, the face being so familiar but yet unknown to me, and he took the key with gratitude. 

“Thank you but I can get by on my own.” The smaller man said. 

“The thing is, you don’t have too.” 

Words escaped through my lips again, in a different voice. 

This dream was different from all the others. I didn't feel death or scared; I felt warmth and love. 

My hand was placed on the smaller man's shoulders. “I’m with you till the end of the line, punk.” 

“I know, jerk.”

My dream shifted to another memory and I found myself being surrounded with trees and a large group of people around me. I was invisible to them, no one noticed I was there. There were cheers and applause, something worth celebrating for. 

“Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America!” 

I awoke and found myself back into my own apartment, Salem laying softly next to me with a quiet purr coming from him. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, I rolled out of bed and walked into the open main living space of my apartment and was getting ready to find something for breakfast but my feet froze when I noticed what time it exactly was. 

“Six o'clock?! What the hell, did I sleep the whole day away?” I groaned. 

Debating on what I would do with the rest of my night, I decided that I would try and relax by taking a hot bubble bath. After that much needed bath, I walked back into the living room in my usual pjs that consisted of an oversized t-shirt and an old pair of an ex's boxers, and noticed that Salem was not alone on the couch; Alpine had decided to join us tonight. 

“Well hello, does your dad know you’re over here?” 

As soon as the words left my lips, there was a knock at my door. 

Blue eyes pierced my own as the door opened and I was overtaken with an urge to jump into Bucky’s arms; I didn’t. 

It was already awkward enough that I was standing in front of him looking like a hot mess. 

“I’m guessing Alpine is over here?” He asked while leaning against the door frame. 

I nodded with a smile. “Yeah. I can send her back home if you’d like but I do have to say, they look pretty comfortable.” 

Moving to the side, I let Bucky peek into my apartment at the couch where our two cats laid cuddled together. 

“You can send her home later,” Bucky laughed. “I’ll let you get back to your night.” 

Before I could stop myself, I gently grabbed his right arm to stop him. “Actually, if you want to stay you can. I was going to order some food and watch a movie.” 

Bucky stuffed his hands in his sweater pocket and hesitated. “I don’t want to impose.” 

“Not at all,” I spoke with a smile and opened the door more to let him inside. 

“Uh, Steve was actually picking up some Chinese for us. I could tell him to pick something up for you too,” Bucky suggested. 

“That would be great, thank you. I’m fine with whatever you guys are having.” 

While Bucky was on the phone with Steve, I quickly excused myself to change. I suddenly found myself wanting to impress Bucky. After deciding on a pair of skin tight leggings and an oversized white knit sweater, I tossed my hair a bit, giving it some type of wave, before walking out into the main living area. 

“Steve is going to be awhile. The Chinese place is busy,” Bucky informed me. 

I waved him off, saying it was alright. “Can I offer you anything to drink?”

“Beer is fine, thank you.” 

After giving him one, I sat on the opposite side of the couch while pulling my feet under me. 

“How long have you and Steve known each other?” I asked. 

“Uh, since we were kids. We basically grew up on the playground together.” 

Something about him and my nightmares had this weird connection that I wasn’t able to put my finger on. If my mother had a say in it she would tell me that it was the whole ‘soulmate dreamers’ but I never believed in that stuff. It was an old wise tale that  her great-great-great grandparents told her.

“Well what do you want to know about me? Ask me anything,” I offered. 

Bucky placed his empty bottle on the table in front of him before leaning back into the couch. His arm rested on the back, fingers close to my knees. 

“Steve said that you’re in law school?” He asked. 

“Yup, I’ve got one semester left before I graduate.” I spoke proudly. “My parents have six kids, me being the oldest, so being the first one to graduate is big. My mom wants to start planning a party.”

“She seems very proud,” Bucky noted. 

I nodded. “She is. I don’t see my family very much, they live in Greece. I moved here at eighteen for school.” 

“That sounds tough.” 

“It can be at times.” I admitted. 

A silence fell between us and I looked over to his arm that rested on the back of the couch, noticing he was wearing the glove again. I then remembered that he only ever wore long sleeves when I was around. I knew it was none of my business but I couldn’t help but wonder what was underneath his shirt and glove. 

Suddenly I found myself wondering what was underneath his black sweatpants and heat spread through my body. Flash images of two people in bed together played in my mind. Sweaty, hot bodies pressed against each other and their moans were in sync. 

“Y/N?” 

Looking towards Bucky, the images disappeared from my mind, and I bit my lip. “I’m sorry, did you say something?” 

He nodded towards the door. “Steve’s here.” 

“Oh, sorry.”

I let Steve in with a smile, saying thank you for picking up some food. 

“Was I interrupting something?” He questioned while nodding towards Bucky's beer bottle and my empty wine glass. 

“Not at all, we were just talking.” I said. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

As I set out the food on the table, Steve punched Bucky in the shoulder. 

“Next time you’re picking up the food, punk.” 

Bucky laughed. “Sure thing, jerk.” 

My body froze when I heard those familiar words. 

Punk. 

Jerk.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Steve asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“Uh, actually I’m not feeling well. I’m sorry guys but I’m going to have to cut the night short.” I lied. 

Bucky went to speak but I stopped him by nodding towards the door. “Can you lock up for me?” 

Not bothering to hear their response, I ran into my room and locked the door behind me. 

Weeks had passed by, me busying myself with school and work, as I tried to avoid Steve and Bucky. Ever since that night we all hung out, I tried to make sense of this whole situation. I didn’t know much about them and was afraid of what I would find out. 

The nightmares had ended after that night and I could sleep easier knowing that the screams of death would no longer haunt me. 

I still felt guilty, however, ignoring Steve and Bucky. They both had been nothing but nice and sweet to me and I cut them out of my life with no explanation. 

Letting out a soft sigh, I let my door close behind me as I made my way towards the laundry room on my floor. My laundry had started to pile up and I knew I couldn't keep hiding out in my apartment. I was running out of clean clothes. 

A soft tune from the 1940’s played through my phone, me finding this music relaxing, as I was shut out of the outside world. My hips swayed to the music and I was oblivious to the man who entered the room.

“You’ll never know how many dreams. I’ve dreamed about you or just how empty they all seemed without you. So kiss me once, then kiss me twice then kiss me once again. It’s been a long, long time,” I softly sang the words. 

“This has to be one of my favorite songs.” 

Dropping my basket of clothes on the ground, I turned on my heels and was face to face with one of the men I was avoiding. 

“How long have you been standing there?” I questioned. 

Bucky set his basket of clothes down on the table. “Since the start of the song.” 

“Well, I’m just about finished.” I rushed while picking up the clothes that fell out of my basket.

“Y/N, did we do something?” Bucky asked. 

I shook my head. “I’ve been busy with school and work. Speaking of which, I’ve got a paper due in an hour so I should get started.”

As I tried to walk out, Bucky stepped in front of me to stop me. “If I did anything to make you feel uncomfortable, I’m sorry.” 

“Bucky, you didn’t do anything. I’ve just been really busy.” I admitted with a sigh. 

Finally looking up at him, I noticed how close we were and I sucked in a breath. His lips were plump and punk from underneath his beard and I fought the urge to see how they tasted. 

He gently raised a hand to move a strand of hair from my face. “You’re a terrible liar.” 

His voice was soft and quiet.  

“I really should get started on that paper,” I whispered.

Gloved fingers grazed my chin and forced me to look into his eyes. I couldn't ignore the coldness that seeped through the leather.  

“Before you go,” Bucky’s breath fanned over my lips and his other hand reached around my hip, “You don’t want to forget this.” 

My eyes looked away from him and my cheeks burned with fire when I noticed that he was holding up one of my red lace bra and panty sets. I hastily grabbed them and tossed them into my basket. 

“I bet red looks really good on you,” He murmured into my neck.

Heat filled my veins at the gruffness of his voice and I shifted on my feet trying to hide my arousal. 

“I’ll-uh-see you around, Bucky.” I muttered while quickly running out of the room back to my apartment to take a long, cold shower. 

Tightness engulfed my throat as the air was being sucked out of me. I tried to yell, scream, but nothing would come out. The hand around my throat tightened with every fight and my vision became hazy. Life was being squeezed out of me and there was nothing I could do to stop it. 

My eyes, before fading to black, looked from the dark eyes peeking through the long strands of hair and down towards the arm that was wrapped around my neck. Except it wasn't a normal arm, it was cold and hard. 

It was metal. 

A loud knock woke me from my nap on the couch and I let out a big sigh of relief that I was able to breathe again. This was the first nightmare I had in weeks and this one felt so real; I truly thought I was going to die. 

Another knock sounded on the door. 

“Coming!” I yelled while getting up from the couch. 

“Let’s go.” 

Steve grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my apartment, locking the door behind me. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, trying to plant my feet in place. 

“You’ve been ignoring us for weeks, Y/N. You’re hanging out with us tonight.” 

“But-,” I started. 

We stopped in front of Steve’s door and he shook his head. “Bucky said you’ve been busy with school and work so you’re relaxing with beers and crappy movies, okay?”

Realizing that this was a fight I wasn’t going to win, I sighed. “Fine but you’re paying for the beers. And I want an extra large cheese pizza.” 

“Deal,” Steve smiled. 

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back soon.” Steve let me into his apartment and with a quick wave, he was down the stairs. 

I could hear water running behind a door and I figured that Bucky was in the shower. Biting my lip, I tried to picture what he looked like with the water cascading down his broad chest to his hips and even lower.

“Get a hold of yourself, Y/N.” I muttered while sitting on the couch. 

I spent the next few minutes cuddling with Alpine, waiting for Steve to return, and when the bathroom door clicked open my previous thoughts had come true. 

Bucky stood in front of me with a black towel wrapped loosely around his waist, obviously not expecting me to be sitting in front of him. Water dripped from his hair and I followed it down his naked torso. My mouth ran dry when I noticed the glistening shine coming from his arm. 

His metal arm. 

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, not bothering to tighten the towel around him. 

I could tell that he was nervous when he saw that I couldn’t take my eyes off his left arm. 

“Uh-Steve, he uh, went to get something to eat,” I stammered over my words. 

The man that I had been dreaming about, having nightmares about, was standing in front of me and I realized that the folklore my mom used to tell me growing up was in fact true. 

Bucky was my soulmate. 

“Your arm,” I pointed towards it. “Oh my god, you killed people.” 

Bucky shifted, his body tensed. “I can explain.” 

I stood on my feet and made a run for the door. Bucky stepped in front of me to stop me. His bare chest was in front of me and I refused to look into his eyes. 

“Please let me explain, Y/N,” He pleaded. 

I shook my head, voice almost gone. “I really should go.” 

“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” His hands cupped my face and forced me to look at him. “I’m not that person anymore. That was years ago.” 

When I didn’t fight him, he sighed before continuing. “Just give me five minutes and I can tell you wherever you want to know.”

“I already know what I need to know. I dreamed of your memories for months, their screams and cries kept me up every single night,” I stated. 

Before I could register what was going on, Bucky had me over his shoulder and was walking towards his room. My butt fell onto his bed with a soft thud and he kicked the door shut. I backed up as far as I could, my back hitting his headboard. 

“Y/N, please,” Bucky begged. “If I wanted to hurt you, don’t you think I would have done so already?” 

When I was silent, he knew that I couldn’t argue with that question. 

“Why’d you do it?” I questioned, voice shaky with sobs. 

“I’ll explain everything as long as you’ll let me but can I get dressed first?” He motioned towards the towel.

Giving a small nod, I turned my back to him, allowing him to get dressed. When the bed dipped down next to me, I looked over to him and noticed he opted out of putting on a shirt. His metal arm out on full display. 

“I never thought it was true; soulmate dreamers. My mom would tell me these stories growing up but that's all I thought they were. Stories,” I said. 

“That’s why you dreamed of my memories?” Bucky asked. 

I nodded. “They weren’t all bad. I dreamt of times with both you and Steve. You two were in a war and you called him Captain America?” 

That was when Bucky explained everything. How after his time in the war, he was kidnapped by this highly known terrorist group called Hydra and they used him and his arm as a weapon of destruction. They would freeze him then unfreeze him when they needed him to kill someone. When he was done, they would wipe his memory and freeze him again. Which would explain why he looked so young; he was born in 1917. 

“I don’t understand. I’ve been living in New York for years and I can’t believe I’ve never heard of you guys before,” I said astonished. “And Steve was frozen in ice for over 70 years?”

“After everything we’ve been through, we decided to come back home and try to live normally,” Bucky said. 

I sat up on my knees. “Did you ever have dreams of me?” 

A warm smile played on Bucky's lips. “Every night.” 

“Of what?” 

“When you were five years old and your parents surprised you with the puppy you’d been wanting for so long. Or the time that after your 16th birthday, you snuck out of your house to see a boy but after you climbed down the tree, your dad was outside waiting for you.” 

A giggle left my lips. “I got in so much trouble.” 

“My favorite is when you were singing in the laundry room to my favorite song. That was when I knew I was in love with you,” Bucky admitted. 

“That happened earlier today,” I reminded him. 

Bucky nodded. “I knew it from the moment I saw you when I moved in that you were my soulmate. I dreamt of you for months before meeting you.” 

“What does this mean now?” I wondered while reaching for his metal hand. “We both know that we’re meant to be together but what do we do?”

His flesh fingers brought my face closer to his and without saying a word, our lips collided together. The kiss was fast, needy, but slow at the same time. His lips tasted exactly how I thought they would; minty. I climbed into his lap while running my hands through his hair, deepening the kiss. 

“Bucky,” I mumbled into his lips.

“Hm?” 

“I. really. Don't. want. To,” I spoke in between kisses. “I don’t want to ruin the moment but we’ve got four eyes staring at us.” 

Bucky pulled away and we both looked over to the window where both Alpine and Salem stood, watching us. 

“It seems like we’re not the only soulmates,” I giggled, feeling Bucky’s lips brush against the sensitive skin of my neck. 

“You know what I’m wondering?” He pondered. 

“What's that?” I breathed while brushing the hair out of his face. 

“If you’re wearing that red number underneath these clothes,” Bucky groaned. 

I raised my eyebrows in seduction. “Why don’t you find out?” 

Our laughs and moans were heard throughout his apartment. That night I slept with a warm body next to mine and the nightmares had stopped; for good. 

[twosignificantfigures]

remember coming across this tiktok screenshot on twitter and getting so annoyed that i fully channelled miranda priestly in that blue versus cerulean scene from devil wears prada (2006) because:

forcing actors/filmmakers to say 90s and 2000s romcoms instead of 60s or even earlier films has to be one of the most annoying things in general because it forgets to acknowledge the fact that romcoms from before 90s and 2000s have left an impact in how romcoms are made.

for example: the film "It Happened One Night" released in 1934 became the blueprint for most of the romcom films and romcom tropes we know and love and look for in films/books/fanfictions. one such trope from the film aka the enemies-to-lovers trope was even used in 10 Things I Hate About You

there are also so many other tropes from it happened one night that are used in other romcoms and allow me to enumerate the ones i have from memory (these are just some of the tropes and there is this article that discusses more tropes and other films that used these tropes!)

fake dating/fake married (also used in The Proposal)

character is a main journalist looking for a scoop and ends up falling in love (also used in other romcoms like 13 Going On 30 and How To Lose A Guy in 10 Days)

rich x poor/working class (also used in Pretty Woman, and Crazy Rich Asians)

2. let's take it even further because It Happened One Night was not the first art form to use the enemies-to-lovers trope. it actually goes as far as Mesopotamian mythology. and William Shakespeare definitely wasn't the first, but he also basically uses this trope in his play Much Ado About Nothing released in the 1500s. and fun fact!!! 10 Things I Hate About You is a modern retelling of Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew!

my point is!!! actors and filmmakers mentioning films from the 60s or even earlier is neither pretentious nor annoying because it acknowledges how far storytelling has come. it literally tells the story of humankind and how art has always been a part of our lives and will continue to do so for many generations to come. the fact that tales and stories that hail from ancient times have survived either through writing or fragmented from word of mouth is astonishing on its own. it means that we actually do leave a mark in this world from just existing and telling stories. i hope we start to appreciate that for what it is instead of having takes like this i really do 🙏

Been said before but many people on social media are so bothered when actors or filmmakers do those letterboxd top 4 interviews and choose art house films and films over fifty years old and international films and act like they’re lying or something. like this may surprise you but I think a lot of people who go to work in the film industry actually love film as an art form so of course they’re going to choose movies that show this 😭 nothing wrong with ur favourite movie being spider-man 3 or whatever but to act like people r lying because their favourite is quote-unquote pretentious…ur just insecure babs

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Have a little good news to start the week. One little butterfly may not seem like a big deal, but every species we manage to save means better biodiversity and a healthier ecosystem overall. Moreover, there is something profound in knowing that you've helped to protect a unique evolutionary lineage that has fluttered on for thousands of years, and which once lost would be gone forever.

I know the world can feel overwhelming at times, with extinctions happening at a much higher rate than normal, ecosystems worldwide in peril, and headlines focusing primarily on the negative. But remember that there are also so, so many people working every day--right now, in fact--to protect these most precious, wonderful beings and their homes that we share this planet with. The above story is just one of thousands, most of which never hit the news cycle, but which are still having a positive impact quietly, behind the scenes.

I think it's an important thing to remember in these days. I know this particular Gandalf quote only came from the Hobbit movies, not the book, but I still think it's appropriate here: "It is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay. Small acts of kindness and love." And what else motivates someone to save a tiny butterfly, but an intense love for the natural world?

[clubsoft]

⠀

⠀ ⠀ CHERIMOYA ⠀ ⠀ JEY USO / POC ! F ! READER ⠀⠀ ⠀

SUMMARY ⋆ jey's completely , hopelessly in love , & this is how he got there . WARNINGS ⋆ fluff , fluff , fluff / minimal character desc ; poc reader oriented / size diff if u squint / pet names overload / loverboy jey / 3rd person POV ; no use of Y/N WORD COUNT ⋆ 3 . 0 k NOTES ⋆ my first real long fic , insp'd by jey saying he wants to be in a love drama , romcom :3 enjoy !! <3

The marketplace sits at the corner of the street where the woman with the moving bookstore and the food truck man who makes the world’s most delicious waffles cross paths six days out of the week, save for Sunday, because what better reason than church to take the day off? The lovers, Jey and the soon to be girl of his dreams, learn this the hard way, standing at the corner of the sidewalk blankly in search of the street stalls, him with cash in his hand, her with a book for exchange. It’s when their eyes meet that the search ends, confusion fades, respective reasons for stepping out so trivial between their mingling gazes. Ever the flirt, never one to even stutter before a woman, Jey breaks the mutual silence first, unable to hide the awe in his tone, his words completely unrelated, but he fears if he doesn’t speak to her now, he’ll live in regret.

“No waffles for me today, I guess,” he says with a chuckle, to which her own laughter chimes in response. It silences the city around him, that heavenly sound, freezes him in time. A simper lingers on his lips, a flash of pearly whites remaining visible as she holds up her book, patting the cover with her free hand, her chin dips with a nod, though there’s a sheepishness to her movements, one he finds endearing.

“I’ll get a new book another day, I guess,” she replies, and if he wasn’t listening so closely, her voice would’ve been swallowed by the nearby traffic.

Caught up, and so awfully, embarrassingly enamored for a man of his age and experience, Jey stutters as he lifts his hand to point his thumb at the large building behind them, managing out, “Looks like t-they’re o-open. Maybe they got a b-book or two in there to hold you over ‘til the library lady gets back?”

He steps backwards towards the automatic doors, awaiting an answer that couldn’t have taken longer to arrive, though it’s mere moments between his invitation and her response. He watches her consider, her eyes flitting about below long, fluffy lashes, the curl of her fingers, with those pretty long nails, tightening around the spine of her book, all things that contrast the calm of her countenance. She’s just as nervous as he is, thank god. “Maybe they got somethin’ for you to eat so you don’t starve waitin’ for the waffle truck.” A perfect reply; it makes Jey smile so wide that every wrinkle and crinkle in his gorgeous face is present. He tips his head towards the doors, she crosses the distance to walk beside him, and together, they head in.

It’s him taking the initiative again, holding out his large hand, “I’m Jey, and you?” No hesitation this time, her much smaller hand slips into his palm, and when she utters her name, he swears it fits perfectly with his, like it’s meant to be said alongside his own, and for a man who knows jackshit and less about poetry, he finds it poetic. “Nice to meet you,” is what he settles for, grin widening when she echoes it back to him.

In the marketplace, they seem to sell everything from live aquatic animals swimming in lavish fish tanks to tiny, miniature figurines that Jey pretends to show no interest in, but hovers around for many minutes, until his companion gently asks him about them. She’s quiet in comparison to him, but he’s met enough people in his almost four decades of life to almost be sure that not a single thing goes unnoticed by those large, sparkly eyes of hers. It’s no surprise that his fascination with the colorful character display isn’t lost on her. “So, are these, like, anime? You recognize these?” It’s too late to lie and pretend he doesn’t, so he grins bashfully, shakes his head to nod, to which she responds sweetly, “Tell me about them.”

Those four words shouldn’t set off a flurry of make-believe fireworks behind her, highlighting her angelic features, making them glow even more, but they do just that. On top of that, he isn’t aware before then that all it takes to bring down his guard is a show of genuine attentiveness, but as he begins to point out every little character he’s familiar with, the connections between those from the same series, his opinions of them, and anything else that comes to mind, he realizes it isn’t a show at all. Her gaze follows his fingertips as they point from one character to the next, and she’s nodding to keep from interrupting him, humming when he pauses between words to show she’s listening. Jey feels his cheeks warm, and he trails off, “Yeah, that’s it. That’s about all I know.”

“What? Jey, that’s so cool! I’m not much of a gamer but that explanation made me wanna change that!” She exclaims, clapping her hands together quietly, beaming. Then, she quickly cuts her excitement short, offering a shy smile as she lowers her hands, smoothing them against her top, as though her enthusiasm would turn him away, a fear he’s quick to remedy with his words.

“If you don’t get tired a’me, I can teach you.” Her features soften further, and she nods appreciatively, holding his gaze a heartbeat longer. The less outwardly flirty of the two by a longshot, she’s the one to break eye contact, returning the attention back to the subject at hand, picking up a medium sized figurine of a bear that Jey recognizes as ‘Kuma’ from Tekken, holding it up like it was a trophy.

“This one’s your favorite? He’s so cute!”

A short while of wandering lands them in the opposite corner of the market, a completely different world, rows and rows of fruits and vegetables, a sticky sweet scent in the air. Jey follows a step and a half behind, and tries his utmost hardest not to be a typical man, though his self control slips from his grasp as his eyes trace the shape of her hips, the sliver of flesh between the waistband of her jeans and the hem of her shirt, swallowing hard while watching one tan finger hook into the belt loop at her side to adjust said waistband. For a moment, he swears he hears twinkling, angels singing, sees doves flying in, but it’s just the noise of her charm bracelet mixed with illusory manifestations of his attraction. One large hand rubs over his face as he sighs, and she turns to him at the perfect time, a smile so beautiful on her glossy, full lips that he’s almost jealous of what brought it on. “Jey, look! Cherimoyas!”

“Cherry-mow-yuz?” He repeats slowly, pronunciation pulling a giggle from the girl before him, his brows furrowed in confusion until his gaze travels the span of her arm to the glittery long nail pointing towards a box of green fruits. He knows they’re fruits only because the sign says so, despite being entirely unfamiliar, he’s excited just because she is.

“Cherimoyas,” she corrects him, and then continues. “These are so good, they taste like dessert, and I can never find ‘em anywhere. I could eat a truck full of these things!”

“Never had ‘em… Should we get some?” The question is rhetorical on his end, because she’s grabbing a bag, nodding enthusiastically, reaching for the box like Jey was already doing. It’s something out of a movie, his hand brushing hers, the second too long that it takes for them to withdraw, the sparks that make his skin buzz where it's made contact with hers. They almost do it again, stop to let the other through, and by the third time, she’s laughing, simply holding open the bag so he can fill it cherimoyas, going until she says stop.

The sun is beginning to set by the time they come to rest on a park bench, having traveled outside the market, talking and talking, and talking some more. Now, Jey’s using his car keys to split open the apple shaped fruit, puncturing a hole big enough in the shell to split it in half with his hands a moment later. Impressed and excited beyond words, the girl to his right oohs and aahs like he’d done a magic trick. It’s adorable, and his cheeks feel hot as he passes her the larger half, which she instantly switches out with his. “Cheers, to the book lady and waffle man, and cherimoyas.”

“And cherry-mow-yuz,” Jey repeats, the two bursting into laughter, struggling to dig in until their giggles fade, but when he sinks his teeth into the fruit, he moans in delight, eyes shutting, head tipping back with a sigh. “Yeah… good as fuck. Tastes like custard,” he says, filling his mouth with another bite.

She answers with a hum, nodding, eyes crinkled with a smile. “I told you we’d keep you from starving.”

“Wait, we didn’t get you a new book,” Jey says, frowning, taking time away from his cherimoya lovemaking to look at her, his big brown eyes set steadily on her. Yet, he’s just a man, and he finds himself staring at her lips, the way they kiss at the edge of the peel before she uses her teeth, dragging the sweet bits into her mouth. He’s a gentleman, so he believes, and scaring her off wouldn’t be so gentlemanly of him. All he can do is allow himself to feel jealous of the fruit, and look away.

“I have a new story to tell, and I made a new friend. That’s way better than a new book.”

If Jey could, he’d magically materialize in front of this past self— the pair of them, actually— and laugh in their faces. Friends, yeah, right! Years have passed since their first meeting, their lives intertwined to the point where it’s impossible to tell where she ends and where Jey begins, not far from their current physical situation, limbs knotted together, his heavy arm holding her down as she tries to lunge at his twin, whose thunderous laugh echoes through their house like a lion’s roar. Jey’s attempts to stay on her good side result in him laughing silently only when she looks away from him, a deep breath drawn into his lungs to keep his voice from shaking before he calls out to his brother, “Jimmy, stop playin’ with her, man!”

“Don’t make me call Naomi!” Her voice co-signs, much more passionate than her lover’s. Jimmy takes no account of the threat, turning up the volume on the TV, the entire reason for the fight in the first place.

He’d visited to spend time with his brother, as he does every week or so, arriving with two boxes of pizza alongside an array of snacks. Nothing wrong with that, all is well. Jey has his own space, with his TV, consoles and other toys, and that’s usually where the twins hang out. This time, Jey insisted on his girl joining, and taking the party to the main living room, where she’s on her third rewatch of some romance series he can never remember the name of despite being completely absorbed in it. After saying hello and giving hugs, Jimmy, ever the joker, took the remote and switched on the game. He does things like this on purpose, he always does, living off the banter it creates between him and his brother’s girlfriend. Everyone else in their family has been around his antics long enough, but she’s a rookie to it, and it takes almost nothing to rile her up. In retaliation, she‘d taken the remote back and switched it back, that’s when the tug of war with the remote started, reaching a point where a throw pillow had earned its name, flung across the space, knocking Jimmy square in the head. That leads them to the present, where Jey is still holding her still, and Jimmy’s nodding along to the game’s commentary like it’s a hymn that touches his soul.

“You think you can just come into my house, turn off my show—”

“It’s my brother’s house, and I don’t see ya name in the credits of the damn show, so—”

“Baby!” Her whine tugs at Jey’s heart, making quick work of his neutral stand and pulling him onto her side. A hum of understanding, a few soft pecks to her jaw and cheek, he sighs, and sits up, gesturing to the remote.

“Jim, gimme the damn remote.”

Jimmy, incredulous, hugs the rectangular device to his chest, imitating her whining, “Noooo.”

Jey doesn’t get a second to process when another pillow is launched into space; it hits Jimmy in his nose, and he groans. Then, without warning, he opens his big mouth and cries out, “I don’t even know why my brother wants to marry your evil ass. With an aim like that, I’d stay as far away from you as I could!” His words are like a gunshot, the shock on the couple’s faces the smoking gun. Realizing he’d fucked up, Jimmy holds up his hands, and then turns the blame onto his twin, who’s laying back with his hands over his face. “I thought you already asked her, dude!”

“I was workin’ on it!” Jey retorts, sitting up abruptly. Between them, his sweet babygirl is frozen in shock, and he ignores anything else Jimmy could say to defend himself, tenderly cupping her cheek with his palm, lowering himself until he’s eye to eye with her.

“Is he serious?” Is her first question, to which he nods, grimacing.

“I wanted it to be a lot more romantic…” He can see the gears shifting in that little mind of hers, piecing together the full picture with a gasp.

“The date! That’s why you gave me money to get my nails and feet done.” Pressing kisses to her knuckles, Jey smiles.

“Baby, I always give you money to get your stuff done.”

“Except it’s different this time,” spoken like the idea hasn’t quite wrapped around her brain yet. Another nod. She has a knack for making him wait, he realizes, it’s deja vu to the time they first met, Jey lingering in hopes of receiving an answer that’ll set their future on track.

“You always this slow?” Jimmy’s voice interrupts their sugary moment, cutting through it like a knife stabbing into tough plastic, sharp and unsatisfying.

“You still here?” His twin snaps back in an identical tone, no pun intended— the twins are fraternal. “Get outta my fuckin’ house! Baby, gimme one of those pillows.”

“I’m goin’! I’m goin’!” A shuffle of footsteps, and the two are left alone. Jey’s doe brown eyes soften, stuck solid on his girl, who sits before him with her chest puffed out and a hollow gaze.

“Honey?” Large hands squeeze around her smaller ones, thumbs rubbing over her knuckles. “You want some more time?” Jey murmurs, lips against her wrist, kissing it after. “Shit was outta nowhere, I don’t blame—”

“Oh my god, I thought you’d never ask! I was just imagining how we’d do it. I wanna do it in your mom’s backyard, actually, with Roman on the grill and lots and lots of flowers! Lotsa flowers—” As the angel rambles on, eyes having stolen constellations from the sky, the man before her listens with a gaze amorous enough to make poets buzz with joy at the sight of such muse, such inspiration, such true love. Interrupting her is subconscious, lips closing over her soft, glossy ones, his frame shifting off his knees to trap her against the cushions of the couch.

“I can make that happen, mama… We can do whatever you want…” He’s almost whispering, drawing shapes against her nose with the tip of his own, chasing kisses till it’s impossible for her to speak, and she has to smush her hand over his mouth, pushing him back gently.

“But I don’t want the ring yet! I bought a really nice dress and I need to get my nails done, and…”

The day can’t come fast enough. Jey’s mom’s backyard is the venue, one that costs little to no money to decorate. His mom is elated to be the host; she prepares a speech and cries so hard near the end that her words are incoherent. Solo, of all people, ends up on stage to finish it for her. He gets a little choked up himself, and that sends the entire family into laughter. Jey leads all the slow dances, gets drunk, then sits and explains how he learned them. His stories draw a crowd, teasing him so intensely that he fights them off, and buries his face in his wife’s— yes, wife— neck. The dramatics last a mere twenty minutes before the entire family is back on the dance floor, each drink helping fade the night to black.

Morning afters are meaningful, no matter how enamored the lovers are, for they mark the blessing of another day started with one’s soulmate. Jey recalls their very first one in a dreamlike trance, while watching his wife’s chest rise and fall as she sleeps soundly after their eventful honeymoon night. Jey woke up first that time, too. Limbs tangled together, breaths mingled, the scene identical to the one in his bed years ago, their love new at the time, nerve wracking but steady, the butterflies flitting about in the unfamiliar environment having settled by now, though the fluttering never ceases. He hopes it never does.

“Honey?” Beside him, his cherubic wife rasps softly in her morning voice, removing him from his thoughts. Her naked form shifts, curls and molds against his as though she’s trying to become one with him, and as he hums to respond, she nuzzles her nose into his collar and drifts off again. A wide smile dimples his cheeks, arms holding her tightly against him, and he looks up at the roof as though it was the sky, as though the divine herself was looking back at him in that moment, listening to him pray his thanks for the next step of their life, and the start of another day with his beloved.

⠀⠀ ⠀

⠀⠀ ⠀ © 𝓒LUBSOFT

[smolbeanie1221]

Age dreamer here! Also possibly probably regressor too but I never exactly know what age I feel like, soooo confusion

Now ima vent about that a bit. I grew up in an unconventional way, my dad was sick my entire childhood and he was the center of my world my everything. Anyways I had to grow up fast in some ways, like logically I guess, but in other ways, I stayed as young as I could. I played with toys and stuffed animals until 6-7th grade, so 11-12 years old. A lot longer than most of my peers. Then middle school and high school happened, and coming up with story ideas replaced my pretend games with stuffed animals. Then when Covid happened my freshman year of college, my mental health crashed super hard and I was dissociating on and off for a long freaking time. During that time, I discovered the Lion King fandom and I immediately hyperfixated on that. I started getting sucked into other fandoms too, but Lion King is always my default. The fandoms and universes I hyperfixate on are pretty much always the same books and movies and shows I loved from ages 8-18ish. Covid happened when I was 18, and then I started dissociating for so long that I feel as though I didn’t really “age” at all during the time I was dissociating. I escaped back into fantasy worlds, not with stuffed animals and toys this time, but with characters from Lion King and Spirit Stallion of the Cimarron and Twilight and Divergent and Tinker Bell and Supernatural and Percy Jackson and the Buddies puppies movies and so many others. When I was turning 20, it felt so unreal to me, and it still does feel so unreal to me that I’m 23 now, but turning 20 felt so wrong because, what do you mean I was no longer a teenager?? I didn’t necessarily want to relive my teenage years, but I couldn’t say I was technically a teenager anymore?? Turning 20 years old to me meant full fledged adult, and I hated that thought. And I still feel so weird when I think about the fact that I’m 23 years old now. I don’t feel like an adult at all, I mean I function and live well enough in the adult world, but I don’t feel like I’m actually an adult. And… shit as I’m typing this I’m realizing the term I recently started paying more attention to, permaregressor… huh I think that actually does describe me a lot more than I initially thought. So… I think it might be accurate to say that I’m permaregressed to 15–18ish, and I age dream to go into a younger headspace?? Huh that’s… actually sounding pretty freaking accurate. I’m still not sure but… I think it makes sense??

Please interact with this post if you're a trans or gender non-conforming age regressor/age dreamer so that we can all see we're valid members of our community who aren't alone!

🩵🩷🤍🩵🩷 💛🤍💜🖤 💜🤍💚

[bitchface24-7]

4AM UNCERTAINTY - VIKTOR X READER

URGENT REQUEST for @arlekinos-ink due to their situation ☹️ (anyone can read this obviously but it’s a very specific situation)

synopsis: being chronically ill is exhausting. It makes up a major point in your life, and when something else occurs. An injury, an illness, whatever you can think of, care is postponed due to uncertainty regarding what techniques and medication can be used. You’re 99% sure you have appendicitis, but nothing can be done. At least, not yet. Good thing your partner Viktor is here to comfort you.

warnings: mentions of being chronically ill, appendicitis, frustration at life, feelings of powerlessness, comfort

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. I’m trying to get through my requests as fast as I can (I’m close to twenty at the moment) but this DM was a bit upsetting, they asked for comfort through my work. I am here to deliver it in their time of frustration. Hope you like it!

You feel so unbelievably frustrated it’s not even funny. You got admitted to the hospital for possible apendicitis and can't get surgery until they decide it is actually apendicitis because of your other health complications.

You’ve been in the hospital for hours, like over half the day. You’re not allowed to drink, eat or go to the bathroom without permission. You’re currently getting most of your fluids through IV and you’re on the forth one so far.

The scream you want to let out is being contained in your chest as you breath deeply, trying to calm yourself. The only thing keeping you sane is Viktor, and how he’s holding your hand and stroking your knuckles with his thumb.

“Oh my love, I know how awful this is. But we need to stay, to fight it out.”

A groan escapes your lips. You don’t want to fight, you want to go home. You want confirmation that you’re having this surgery. Appendicitis can go really bad, really quick; and you’re not getting care because of your other comorbidities.

“I know! I know… but they could at least check me out! Touch my abdomen to see if it's my appendix, make me pee in a cup to rule out a UTI or kidney stones, check blood, or do imaging like an ultrasound or a CT scan. Anything! But no, I'm stuck here in limbo unsure if I’m getting surgery cause I’m an already sick individual. I can’t eat, I can’t drink— I can’t even take a piss on my own!”

Viktor brings the hand he's carasseing up to his lips and kisses your knuckles, “If I could change the system, I would. You know that. But I'm here for you, until the very end.”

Your irritation melts away as you smile at that, oh how did you end up so lucky?

“If I can't do anything, the least I can do is sleep. Mind reading something to me? You know how much I love your voice.” You say coyly, a mischievous look in your eye.

Viktor sighs fondly as he shakes his head, but he'd do anything for you. He scans the room and really only sees magazines. Some are about fashion, some are about cooking, the one that seems the most interesting is National Geographic.

He quickly grabs the magazine and flips it open, clearing his throat, he starts to read.

“Antarctica is, on average, the coldest, driest, and windiest of the continents, and it has the highest average elevation. It is mainly a polar desert, with annual precipitation of over 200 millimetres or 8 inches along the coast. About 70% of the world's freshwater reserves are frozen in Antarctica, which, if melted, would raise global sea levels by almost 60 metres—”

You look at Viktor with overflowing love in your heart. Here you are crabby, upset, and miserable; and he immediately does his best to cheer you up, even if it means reading about Antarctica.

With your mind at ease and your focus shifted, it’s almost as if the pain disappeared. You can feel your eyes fluttering shut as you hone in on Viktor’s voice, how his accent curls around the words and how interesting he makes it sound.

Viktor would be a good narrator for a documentary, or for an audio book you conclude.

Sleep slowly encases you as Viktor reads to you in a calm, quiet voice. You love this man, truly.

How’d you get so lucky?

Here ya go! I hope this little blurb/one shot has made you feel a bit better ❤️

And to anyone else reading this I hope this has comforted you in someway too, love you all xoxo ❤️

(I got the little bit on Antarctica from Wikipedia lol)