#i think her smudged make-up is good

[scriv3lloirl]

I love Audrey, but I really gotta figure out how t' properly draw her curls cus while m' design of her is all pretty, her hair is.. ANYWAY.

Somewhere That's Green 😞‼️

Not my favorite drawin but I was gettin sick n tired of jus lookin at the half-finished lineart. So I jus threw this t'gether while the 1982 n 2003 Soundtrack blasted in m' ears. 😼

[inkdrinkerworld]

hiii are you still writing for logan? if so maybe smth about logan x mutant!reader and she fell first but he fell harder

You had Logan by the balls and everyone could tell.

Logan didn’t care, he didn’t mind a bit that people could tell he’s head over ass in love with you. He really really is.

Ororo and Marie are currently watching the way you have him by the balls as you lay on one of the sofas in the living room.

“Take them off, Logan.” You whine, wiggling your feet in his face as he tries to get a hold of them.

“Stay still,” he grumbles as he catches your ankle.

“Day drinking was not a good idea for her.” Marie says to her and Ororo nods, unable to keep the smile off her face as you set your foot in Logan’s lap clumsily.

“He doesn’t even hesitate to do what she asks.” Ororo says in wonder, watching Logan be as gentle as if he’s with one of the kids as he helps off your shoes.

“Logan?” You call tiredly, rubbing your eyes and smudging your already messed up eyeliner and mascara.

“Yeah bub?” He moves your hand from your face and cups your cheek, thumb rubbing your cheek as he waits for you to speak again.

Marie holds her breath as she watches Logan pepper kisses to your jaw while you soak all the affection up.

“Do you think we could go and get food? I really wanna get some fries or maybe Chinese food.”

Logan laughs, kissing your chin as he nods. “Wanna come with me or do you wanna lay go down?” He massages the arches of your feet while he waits.

Marie’s whisked away by Remy and Ororo smiles as she walks off, glad that Logan doesn’t feel the need to hide so much now.

“Wanna go with you,” you lean up and kiss his lips sloppily. “Can I have a soda while we go?”

Logan helps you up, not letting your feet touch the floor making you squeal. “Nope.” He pops the ‘p.’ “You can drink water on the drive.”

[iceunhie]

— KISSES OR KISSES? : honkai star rail

premise. testing out your new lipstick is no fun (normally), so what better way to make use of it by kissing your lover senseless? not to mention, leaving a little something behind.... (aka, lipstick kisses with them.)

ft. blade, dan heng, boothill, dr. ratio, aventurine !

warnings: feminine reader! reader is ultimately genderless but you may interpret this as fem!reader if you want, reader wears lipstick. nicknames hehe, boothill is his own warning, mid writing tbh, unedited

a/n. the lipstick trend does not escape me at all 😞😞 but this consumed me so now i write about it ijbol

MAIN MASTERLIST || PART 2 (sunday, jing yuan, gallagher, sampo, gepard.)

“what are you doing?”

BLADE ceases all functions. like, immediately.

you'd think he'd even stopped breathing once he'd felt the soft sensation of your lips on his, and the pretty sight of the normally aloof stellaron hunter covered in multiple lipstick kisses all over his face to his neck nearly makes the rest of his other comrades keel over from laughter. his silence is indicative of his rather unusual state of shock, the only indication a menacing furrow of his brows (to an outsider, they'd think he's plotting a murder spree, but you know him too well for that) that twitch and simultaneously react the more you kiss him everywhere on the face.

silverwolf will then relay to you that blade walked around for nearly 5 system hours covered in your... marks of ownership, kafka helpfully supplies, and was only made aware when firefly accidentally bumped into him, face exploding in red when she saw the audacious sight of blade covered in your lipstick. “er, blade.... your face is...”

—

blade has never known mortification quite like today, but the intense feeling of something akin to shame is vivid as he stares at himself in the mirror, glaring.

his face is a mess, to put it simply. trailing a hand on the red stains your lips left on to him leaves him with a smudged countenance, furthering the utter chaos that is his kiss-ridden face.

“...ridiculous girl.” avoiding the uncharacteristic way his fingertips feel hot, blade reckons this is probably why firefly stopped dead in her tracks and gaped, stared, and flustered.

clever as you were, and with your equal penchant for mischief, blade, the ever unsuspecting lover he is (he doesn't normally allow anyone to touch him, but you're not just anyone) had easily become the target of your new tricks.

“pfft, nice get-up, old man. got yourself a good day?”

....so that's what silverwolf meant.

DANHENG immediately scolds you, but not in the serious way he normally does whenever stelle wants to eat an origami bird or dives into trashcans or when march accidentally destroys one of the archive books, but in a way that only dan heng ever shows you. he's red, painfully red, and is struggling to face you because he knows that the smug grin you're holding has to do with the sight he'd glimpsed himself to be in moments prior.

unfortunately for him, for all his ways of trying fervently to remove the lipstick stains plastered all over his face, it only took march one look and a melodramatic gasp before the entire express knew, the conductor included.

—

“dan heng and [name], sitting on a tree-”

“k-i-s-s-i-n-g~”

my friends are all senile, dan heng thinks, rolling his eyes while avoiding himeko's friendly (read: eerie) smile. and he's already given up on trying to meet welt's eyes. (read: concerned but not surprised)

the reason? the rouge tinted matte lipstick generously spread all over dan heng's face, slightly smudged and spanning from his cheeks to his lips, nearing his neck.

he'd never tell, but a part of him—one that was reptilian in nature, a primal need of possessiveness—adored the show of affection you showered upon him. it was only right—he was yours, and you were his.

welt is sheepish, coughing lightly that all five heads of the express members turn to him (pom-pom included) “dan heng, is that your tail wagging?”

“....”

“....”

“....”

(a resounding click! can be heard afrerwards. oh, dan heng is so going to steal march's camera.)

the loud whir of BOOTHILL’s cooling system can't even keep up with how fast he's overheating, because one thing led to another and one look you gave made him weak in the knees and now his body is covered in your kisses, scarlet against the metal gray of his limbs. he no longer has a heart, but the rapid feeling of heat emitted by his body speaks more about his current mental state in more ways than one—he can't even form words because his brain chip is practically glitching itself up into overdrive, because your lips were so warm, soft and gentle and—

“...oothill? boothill? your circuits are—”

a startling sound that sounds just like a mini explosion reverberates somewhere in the tangle of wires near boothill's power source.

oh dear.

( p.s: no warp trotters were harmed, rest assured )

“[name]...” AVENTURINE’s voice falters when you press a soft kiss near his forehead, your lover closing his eyes as he lets out a soft sigh of joy — a bit like a peacock preening... but in any case! he certainly sees no argument being swayed by you, his dignity in shambles, yes, but when you were showering him with affection like this (which, in all honesty, aventurine did not think he deserved) leaves in in a flushed and tattered mess of a man, whose strings are wholly puppeteered by you and you alone.

you are everything; and aventurine certainly can't get enough. (he doubts if enough will even be enough someday) he's the lover who'd proudly want to flaunt such salacious marks everywhere, though his craftily built reputation as a stoneheart—blood sweat and commodity code and all—leaves him to hide your marks on him, as much as he'd like them to stay. (you are a weakness that aventurine keeps like an oath, and an existence that he'd do anything to keep.)

that doesn't, however, stop him from getting you to leave a kiss near his collar, discreet enough to signal his status as irrevocably, undeniably yours.

DR. VERITAS RATIO is actually the most calm and most normal (read: boring) of all the men above when barraged by your kiss attack. letting out a tsk that's more chiding and speeachless than actually annoyed, he casually pulls you away from his face, nevermind his rapidly heating cheeks, which is only made more humorous given his lipstick stained face.

“stop that. you're making too much of a mess of me, fool.” <- is visibly leaning to your face to allow said actions. you're not fooling anyone here, doctor. smh.

however, he does get pretty flustered when a certain blond gambler notes the new addition of a ‘tattoo’ right near his lower lip. “wow, doctor. seems you woke up on the good side of the bed today.”

he spends a whole day scolding you hoarse afterwards, whatever that may entail ;).

(as a way of petty revenge, he will make sure to kiss you senseless right after, until he's sure his own lips are swollen and covered in the warm red of your chosen shade.)

a/n: blog is running on queue as of today, so this post will probably come wayyy overdue lol but hope u enjoy nonetheless!

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

[hauntedfawnn]

۶♡ৎ Riding Rafe’s Chest Hair ۶♡ৎ

✰ Degradation, daddy kink, spitting, spanking, overstimulation, choking, age gap(Rafe is late 30s reader is in her 20s), possessiveness, hair pulling 18+MDNI! ✰

Based on a convo with my love @cameronsprincess

“Daddy, please, I don’t think I can come again.” You whine and babble as you straddle Rafe’s upper half, your dripping cunt gliding with ease across his toned chest. The patch of hair on his chest brushes against your pulsing clit and sensitive folds.

“Maybe you should’a thought of that before you decided to slut yourself out right in front of me.” Rafe tongues his cheek before smirking up at you, his hands gripping your ass so tight you can feel his nails indenting your skin.

“You fuck other people all the time, you’re such a hypocrite-“ Rafe grabs your jaw roughly and pulls your face down so it’s inches from his, the smirk on his lips turning into a condescending snarl. He shakes your head from side to side as he chuckles darkly.

“You’re walking around, handing out what’s fuckin’ mine and now you have the audacity to give me an attitude? Shut the fuck up and make yourself come again or I’m not fucking you for a week.” Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words, you fucking love how mean he is when he’s jealous. “You knew what the fuck you were doing.”

He wasn’t wrong, you knew exactly what you were doing. Rafe had been ignoring you all week and you were feeling neglected, so you decided to do something to get his attention. You and Rafe weren’t exactly together, not publicly at least. He’s ten years older than you, and your boss. You work as a cocktail waitress at the high end bar he owns and he says it's “not fair to the other employees”. Plus he’s a fucking man whore who doesn’t want to settle down.

But the minute you decide to come into the bar on your night off with a guy who's been asking you out for weeks, he loses his mind. So maybe it was a test, to see how he reacted. And you always get what you want from him in the end. You know just how to work him.

“You did this on fuckin’ purpose. You think you’re sneaky with your little games but you’re not, baby doll.” Rafe squeezes your cheeks between his fingers as he swirls spit on his tongue before spitting directly in your face. He uses his free hand to smear it in, smudging your lipstick across your mouth. “Now be a good girl and come again for daddy.”

Rafe smacks your ass roughly with his free hand as he drops his grip on your face to your neck. He pushes you up by your throat so you’re sitting up straight in his chest again.

“Wanna see my chest hair glistening with that fuckin’ pussy juice, baby. Get it nice and wet for me.” Rafe squeezes your throat so hard it makes your vision go blurry, he lets go and reveals in the way you gasp for air. He smacks your tit and tweaks your nipple before splaying his large hand across your belly and pressing down. It makes your puffy clit rub even harder against the coarse hairs on his chest and has your eyes rolling back.

“Uh-uh, fuckin’ look at me.” Rafe digs his nails deeper into your ass, the sting bringing your eyes back to him. “Eyes on me, baby. Tell me who owns you.”

“You, daddy! Just wish you’d show it.” You whine as you look down at him through your lashes and your lips pushed into a pout. Your hands are planted firmly on his muscular chest as you continue to fuck yourself against his skin.

“That’s what this is about, huh? You want everyone to know you’re a little slut for this dick??” Rafe chuckles.

“Yes, need everyone to know who I belong to. Not just you.” Your legs are starting to get tired so your movements slow down but Rafe isn’t having that, he uses his grip on your ass and hand on your stomach to roughly pull you back and forth on his chest. Rafe laughs at you condescendingly, mocking your need for him.

“You’re pathetic, ya know that? Running around chasing me like a lost kitten or some shit.” That shouldn’t be what sends you over the edge. But that combined with the way Rafe is manhalding you and the way his chest hair snags on your clit just right has white hot pleasure wracking through you. Your legs quake around him as your cunt pulses and clenches around nothing, begging to be filled despite how sensitive you are. “Yeah that’s right, slut, fuckin’ come for me. Now turn around and gimme another one, let daddy see that perfect ass.”

You turn around and arch your back as you start to fuck yourself reverse cowgirl on Rafe’s chest. He aggressively paws at and spanks your ass. All while he deals out degradation with a dash of praise and you’re so fucking obsessed with him you almost can’t stand it. He doesn’t let up until you can’t sit up on your own anymore and you collapse in a panting heap on top of him.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet.” Rafe’s hand slides his finger across his slick chest, gathering some of your juices. Then locks his arm around your neck as he sits up, pulling your back to his front. He holds his glistening digits up to your lips, rubbing your wetness on them like its lipgloss. “Taste yourself.”

You take his fingers into your mouth eagerly, swirling your tongue around them and savoring the taste of yourself mixed with a hint or Rafe’s sweat. He pulls them from your mouth, gliding them down your chin to your neck and down your abdomen, making sigh contentedly.

“You’re fuckin’ mine and I never wanna see another man’s hands on you again.” Rafe grits into your ear as he grips onto the hair at the nape of your neck and pulls your head back so you’re looking at him. “You want everyone to know about us so bad? Quit your job at the bar and let me take care of you.”

“Are you serious?” Your eyes light up and an excited smile stretches across your lips.

“Don’t make me say it again, brat.” Rafe pulls your lips to his in a bruising kiss, sucking your tongue into his mouth before pulling off with a pop. “If you keep it up, I’ll have to tie you to my bed with a vibrator on your pussy and leave you there for a few hours. I’m not spanking you as a punishment anymore, you like that shit too much.”

Tagging mooties: @rafescorpsebride @rafesheaven @rafescvntyclubgf @eerielamb @that-sarcastic-writer @moonlightseranade @loserboysandlithium @songbirdmunson ✨

Dividers by @anitalenia

My first Rafe fic on my new account !! One of many, I’m cooking up a long fic rn. Stay tuned.🩵

[beanlot]

simon riley, who’s trudging through the sand, leaving the chopper. his darkened eyes, usually surrounded by smudged ink, has been diluted by sweat; the scorching three-week effort of travelling through mexico, and long before that, the confines of the dingy underground bunker they’d used as a command post.

his eyes squint harshly in response to the sunlight, pupils dilating when he sees your figure in the distance.

his wife, holding his little girl in her arms.

sometimes he feels like a failure. absent, unable to provide - no matter how much you tell him you signed up for this, marrying a man who served; no matter how much you try to reassure him that it’s fine he’s missing his child’s first steps or words.

he hates himself for it.

“look, it’s daddy!” you whisper excitedly, gently bouncing the little human in your arms as he approaches. his eyes have softened, a contrast to their usual aggression.

“hey there, my little angel..” he murmurs, clearing his throat as his hands cautiously take her from you. her eyes are big, bulging with surprise, and quickly glassing up with fearful tears.

great. the cherry on top to let you know you’re a shit father, riley.

“oh, i don’t think she likes the mask..” you murmur, trying to calm her down as she starts bawling in his arms. but he’s quick and selfless, gloved fingers reaching for the hem of his balaclava and slowly peeling it off.

“it’s just me, angel. daddy’s not scary, hm?”

“simon-“ you quickly look around, noting the disorientated faces - because he’d never taken his mask off so carelessly, it wasn’t just habit or a way to hide the torture, but it was second skin.

“it’s fine, love.” he reassures you, because for the second time in his life, he needs to figure out his priorities. and ghost, was starting to go further and further down the list, especially when he looks at his daughter; her big eyes, ones she’d adopted from you, scanning his face with amusing confusion.

she looks like an alien this close up. she’s probably wondering who the frick is this guy?

“see, baby? it’s just me..” he whispers, his desire to protect her strengthening when he feels little hands start touching his eyes.

it makes you laugh. fuck, you’ve been staring with love-heart eyes for ages now.

with your help, he’s sliding off a glove, and tenderly tracing your jaw. he missed this, your skin under his fingertips, his thumb tracing the dark bags under your eyes.

“you’re alright? everything been going smooth whilst i’ve been gone?” he murmurs with concern and doting, “getting enough rest, love?”

“i’m okay. it’s part of the job.” you nod, because you knew what you were getting into when you had the conversation, how long it took just to muster up the courage to say i think i want a baby. you knew what motherhood meant, for you and your marriage.

he admires you for it. and he’ll get on his knees and worship the ground you stand on for providing him with a beautiful family, a warm home when he needs it.

and quite frankly, someone who puts him in his place so effortlessly.

“i missed you, c’mere.” he murmurs, burly arm wrapping around your shoulder and enticing you into his chest, careful not to squish the little one. you’d sway side to side, your heartbeat cudgelling against your chest with his scent; he doesn’t smell that good, but you’re grateful that he’s just here, grateful enough to be smelling his dehydrated sweat and grime.

i missed you too, handsome.

“she’s perfect, ain’t she?” he whispers, letting you step back. his eyes are fixated on his little girl, pupils dilated with adoration; the little eyes stare back, but go to curiously analyse the surroundings not long after.

he breathlessly laughs, watching as the little hands tug at his badge. “looks just like you. thank god..”

you playfully nudge his shoulder, sighing. he looks like he’s daydreaming as he scans her - chubby cheeks that have ate well, little strands of hair, thick lashes that blink in bewilderment as she looks around.

but she’s definitely got his bitch face. she looks like she’s judging all the grown men in here.

“had a talk with the lads, and there’s some discussion about me coming home.” he states, his fingers delicately stroking the back of his little girl’s head, feeling the soft fluff. “permanently.”

“what..? but you love.. but this is al-“

“i know, love. but i just can’t.. be out ‘ere whilst you raise ‘er alone.” he pauses. you know he’s right, it wasn’t devotion that had him stuck to you like glue during the end of your pregnancy, or the birth. it was pure luck.

he wished he could’ve been around to watch your bump grow, sit there each morning whilst you retched into the toilet. he needs to be the man you deserve, the father his daughter deserves.

“i wanna be there, for ‘er and for you.” he murmurs, hand reaching out to graze your cheek affectionately. you missed the scorching heat of his palm, the callousness of the jagged scars tainting it.

it was time for him to pack his shit, scrape away all the baggage and gruel from al-mazrah and las almas. and instead, bathe in the intermingling body warmth of his wife, under the sheets on a thursday evening. praise her for the fine woman she is, kiss at the stretch marks on her hips and stomach from the beautiful life she’d created. sit beside his child as she bashes shapes against the toy sorter angrily, pretend to eat the plastic food she gives him.

it was time for him to forget ghost, just for now, and be simon riley.

[hsnlv]

jake! is the type to…

pairing: boyfriend!jake x fem!reader

warnings/others: fluff!!, there’s also smut so scroll if uncomfortable!!

a/n: hi, im back (not really lol) but ive been really busy with college lately so i dont really have time to update :( but i hope you’ll enjoy this💗 reblogs and comments are highly appreciated🎀 here’s my masterlist!

jake! is the type to lie to you for no reason at all because he always craves for your attention and he loves being babied :(

“baby, i swear it hurts!” his pout deepens as you roll your eyes for the umpteenth time now, his fingers playing with his bottom lip.

ridiculous, really. he told you that he fell down the floor and his lips hit the floor or something and he needs a kiss from you.

“jake, you’re fine,” you deadpan, crossing your arms.

“i’m not fine!” he whines dramatically, leaning closer. “my lip is throbbing, throbbing, and you don’t even care…”

his exaggerated sulking makes you stifle a laugh, but you shake your head. “you’re unbelievable.”

“you don’t love me,” he mumbles under his breath, flopping back on the couch with a dramatic sigh. “my lip is falling off, and you won’t even give me one tiny kiss to save me.”

your resolve falters at his pitiful expression, his big, pleading eyes locked on yours. with a sigh, you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his bottom lip.

“better now?” you ask softly.

he grins instantly, his arms sneaking around your waist. “so much better. but… maybe one more?”

jake! is the type to always appreciate the little gifts you make though they are stupid sometimes. his mama raised him too well!

“here,” you say, holding out a small keychain you made. It’s uneven, the beads don’t quite match, and the tiny heart you drew on it is smudged—but you couldn’t help yourself.

jake takes it with a gasp, his eyes lighting up as if you’d just handed him the most precious treasure in the world. “you made this for me?”

“yeah, but it’s kind of ugly, isn’t it?” you mumble, suddenly shy.

“are you kidding?” he exclaims, turning it over in his hands like it’s priceless. “this is perfect. look at the little heart! and you picked my favorite color for the beads! baby, this is amazing.”

you laugh, watching as he immediately clips it onto his bag. “you don’t have to use it, you know.”

“of course I’m using it!” he says, beaming. “every time I see it, I’ll think of you. it’s my new good luck charm.”

he leans over to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “you’re the best, you know that?”

jake! is the type to get jealous over the smallest things too because he’s a big baby who wants your attention for him and himself only!!! :(

“you were laughing a lot back there,” jake mutters, slumping onto the couch with a pout.

you glance at him, confused. “what are you talking about?”

“with him,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. “you looked so happy. giggling and all…”

“him?” you blink, wracking your brain. “jake, what are you—wait.” your eyes land on layla, his fluffy golden retriever, sprawled happily on the floor after you’d been showering her with belly rubs and baby talk for the past ten minutes. “are you jealous of your dog?”

he flushes instantly but doesn’t back down, his pout deepening. “you were giving her so much attention. i’m right here, and all I got was a ‘hi, babe.’”

“jake…” you laugh, sitting beside him. “are you serious right now?”

“yes! you even said she was the cutest thing ever. what about me?” he huffs, looking every bit like a sulky child.

“you’re ridiculous,” you tease, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “you’ll always be my cutest, okay?”

his frown melts into a satisfied grin, and he pulls you closer. “good. but no more calling Layla ‘cutie.’ that’s my title.”

jake! is the type to always joke around a lot but he knows tooooo well how to comfort you with his words and gestures whenever you’re in doubt of yourself <3

“why do you even put up with me?” you mumble, staring down at your hands as doubt creeps into your chest. “i’m not… i don’t think i’m enough sometimes.”

the room grows quiet for a moment—so quiet you almost wish he’d crack one of his usual jokes to lighten the mood. but instead, jake kneels in front of you, gently taking your hands in his.

“hey,” he says softly, tilting his head to meet your gaze. his eyes hold none of his usual teasing—just warmth and sincerity. “where’s all this coming from, baby?”

you hesitate, shrugging. “i don’t know… i just feel like I’m not doing enough. or being enough.”

his hands tighten around yours, and he shakes his head. “don’t say that. you’re more than enough, okay? you’re everything. you’re smart, you’re kind, and you make every single day better just by being you.”

you sniffle, feeling tears well up, but jake smiles, leaning closer. “besides, if you weren’t perfect, how could you have me wrapped around your finger like this, huh?”

you laugh through the tears, and he grins, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “there’s that smile.” he slowly lays you down on the bed, his hands caressing your waist delicately. “now, how about i remind you of how perfect you are?”

jake! is the type to be the sweetest in bed!! always whispering sweet things to you while he’s fucking you so delicately as if you’re a glass that can break anytime soon.

“you’re perfect,” he whispers, his forehead pressed gently against yours, his breath warm on your skin. his hands move over you like he’s memorizing every curve, every inch, as though you’re something sacred.

“i love you,” he murmurs, his voice soft but heavy with emotion, his lips brushing against yours in fleeting, delicate kisses. his movements are slow, careful, as if you’re made of glass—fragile and precious, something he wants to protect and cherish. but god, does he know how to make you feel so fucking good.

“does it feel good, baby?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, his eyes searching yours while his hips are moving with a steady pace. his cock is moving in and out of your sweet little cunt, making him biting his lips hard to make sure he doesn’t cum too soon from how fucking good you feel around him. “hm? my sweet girl deserves to feel good, yeah? fuck—”

his hands hold you firmly yet tenderly, pulling you closer, keeping you grounded in him. “look at me,” he says softly, his thumb brushing your cheek as he gazes at you like you’re his whole world. “there’s no one else, nothing else—just you. you’re everything to me.”

he hisses at the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around his cock. it feels as if you were made for him and him only. the way he fits so perfectly in you, the way he never gets bored of the feeling of you around him, both cunt and mouth wise. the way your moan sounds so good in his ears that it can seriously be his lullaby to put him to sleep. the way he can practically see heaven whenever he’s fucking you.

“doing so good for me, yeah?” he cooes, brushing the strands of hair that sticks on your forehead. fuck! he swears he can cum only by the sight of you panting and squirming underneath him. the feeling of his tip constantly abusing your sweet spot in the most delicious way ever makes you let out a small whimper alongside with a soft ‘jakey…’, making him groan against your neck as he breathes in your sweet sweet scent.

“atta girl. come for me, baby. you look so fucking pretty like this…” the feeling of his warm release coats your wall, his breathing heavy and hard, his grip on your thighs are firm as he tries to ground himself hard.

with him, it’s more than physical—it’s a connection, a reminder that you are seen, loved, and treasured completely.

“my sweet girl deserves one more, yeah?” he says before he starts to move again, his cock twitching.

jake! is the type to pamper you with small kisses, caresses and praises for aftercare, making sure you will always feel loved— before, during and after your intimate moments together!

“how’re you feeling, baby?” he whispers, his voice tender as his fingers gently comb through your hair. he cradles you close, like you’re the most precious thing in the world, his warmth wrapping around you like a safety net.

before you can even answer, his lips find your forehead, lingering there for a moment before planting a trail of tiny kisses along your temple, your cheeks, your nose, and finally the corner of your mouth. “did so well for me,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice so soft it makes your heart ache. “so good, so pretty, hm?”

he pulls the blanket over both of you, tucking you in snugly while his hands wander your back in the gentlest strokes. “you’re perfect, baby. so perfect,” he says, his tone full of awe as he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. “i don’t think i’ll ever stop being in love with you.”

he grabs a water bottle and holds it up to your lips, grinning when you take a sip. “good girl,” he says softly, pressing another kiss to your hair.

and just when you think he’s done, he starts whispering sweet nothings, his lips brushing against your ear. “thank you for trusting me. thank you for being mine. i’ll never stop taking care of you, okay?”

his kisses and praises don’t stop, his hands constantly finding yours to lace your fingers together, his every word reminding you how loved you are.

© all rights reserved | hsnlv 2024

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty —other parts

pairing: Simon ��Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: I'm sorry lmaooo nine months... hopefully we can finish this thing!

You land hard, elbows hitting the ground with a jolt of pain, but it’s nothing compared to the realization that someone is screaming—Blue is screaming. The heat in your veins fizzles, your heart jolting. Ghost has already sped off toward camp, pulling a knife from his ankle, and you scramble to your feet to follow.

Your movements are clumsy, your mind replaying the last few seconds, searching for any signs of trouble you might have missed. The air is clear, the trees are quiet, the ground is still. Yet, as you weave through the tall grasses that swipe at your ankles, you finally hear it—muffled voices, unmistakably human. They grow sharper with each step you take. 

Ghost reaches camp first, stopping in a lethal stance. You roll in just behind him, eyes snapping to where Blue stands behind the fence, alive and aiming one of her dad’s rifles at four strangers. Still dressed in an oversized sleep shirt, she juts the rifle through a gap in the fortification. Two of the strangers are mounted on a brown horse, while the other two flank their sides, backs swollen with rucksacks and chests thick with gear. There is no doubt they have weapons.

"D-don't come any closer or I'll blow your heads off! I mean it!"

“We’re not here to hurt you,” one of them says calmly. A man.

“I don’t care why you’re here! You need to leave before my dad…” Her eyes flicker to you. “Dad!”

When their heads turn in your direction, you waste no time arching the knife over your head. You’re not much without your bow, but this is all you have.

In a split second, your eyes land on the burliest of the group, a man with a boonie hat and a dense, brown beard. He was the one speaking. The leader, maybe. You aim the knife for his head, but before you can throw it, Ghost grabs your wrist, wrenching you to his chest without warning, the knife falling to the ground.

"Wait," he says in your ear, his breath steady against your skin. There’s a detectable lilt of surprise in his voice. You try to squirm free, but he holds tight. "Stay here."

He lets go. Confusion reels through you. Everything in you screams to pick up the knife, but you hesitate as Ghost signals for Blue to lower the gun.

He calmly walks over to the intruders, heading to the man you were aiming for. The air feels thick as you watch with parted lips, stance still readied and breath racing. Ghost stops in front of him, and the two stare at each other strangely before the man smiles.

A strong hand reaches for Ghost’s shoulder.

“It’s good to see you, Simon.”

The clanking of metal against ceramic plates and the low murmurs of a fire fill the cabin.

Your spine presses into the wall.

There isn’t a free chair at the table, but you’re not sure you’d sit in one even if there was. Blue stands beside you, hands laced in front of her. She’s silent. You are, too. The cabin feels cramped with seven people in it. It makes your skin itch. 

You can inspect them more thoroughly now that you’re not thinking about who to kill first. 

There are two men—the older one you believe Ghost called Price, and a younger one you think he called Kyle. He’s fine-looking, you figure, underneath the overgrowth of facial hair and grime smudged on his dark skin. He had a tan cap on earlier but now a head of short, black hair is free for him to slick fingers through every now and then. Then there is a woman, some years older than you. She’s beautiful in a raw, Grecian sort of way, with long black hair and a violet undertone to her skin. Lastly, a boy, maybe twelve or thirteen. It doesn't take much to discern he is related to Kyle in some way.

They all look starving, though not as much as you once were. Nevertheless, Ghost is feeding them more than scraps. Canned beans, rice, and rabbit. They shovel it into their mouths. The men have muscles on them, so they can’t have been struggling much. Based on all the supplies they carry and the horse tied to a tree outside, you’ve figured they’ve been traveling for some time. A flurry of questions runs through your brain, but your lips remain in a tight line.

Ghost hasn’t said much yet. He hasn't even explained who they are. Your slitted eyes flicker to him. While the strangers fill up the table, he hovers beside it. His body speaks more than his expression. His shoulders are not tense and lethal as they'd been when you first sat at that table scarfing down food. But they're not relaxed, either; his arms crossed, still exposed from the black tee he'd put on for training, giving way to the slight flexes in his corded muscles that signal even he is thrown off by their presence. 

But he trusts them enough to let them in here. With the way they carry themselves, and the fact that Ghost hasn't killed them, they must've been in the military together. He doesn't seem like the type to have had normal friends. 

Kyle speaks first.

He thrums the pads of his fingertips against the wood and clears his throat, breaking your thoughts. "We were hoping you'd still be here, but it was a shot in the dark."

"I’ve never left," Ghost says, plainly.

Kyle sips from his mug and wipes his mouth, then his eyes shift toward you. You meet his gaze with a hardened look. 

"We're sorry for scaring you."

It takes a moment to realize his words aren't for you. Blue glances to her toes. "I wasn't scared." 

His lips lift. "Of course not. It's us who should've been scared of crossing paths with Simon Riley's kid. You did the right thing, you know. Protecting yourself."

"I didn't realize you knew my dad." She nibbles her lip and looks up. "My name is Blue, by the way. And this is..." Her eyes flick to you. "My friend, Twix."

Your tongue pokes your cheek as you look over the new faces. What are you supposed to say? 

"Hi," is all you settle on.

Ghost clears his throat. "Kid, why don't you clean some more water for them."

Blue nods dutifully, lingering only a second before pouring more river water into the pot over the fire.

"Thank you for your kindness. We haven't had a warm meal like this in days," the woman says kindly.

"It's a strong setup you've made for yourself," Price speaks, one hand stroking his beard while he pushes the cleared plate away with the other. He leans back, boonie hat still cradling his head and casting a shadow over his eyes, but you catch a glimpse of warm brown irises that might've comforted you in any other circumstance.

"It's lasted me this long." Ghost shifts his weight slightly. "Where are you coming from?"

"Near the base by the border, further north."

"Last I heard you were in Manchester."

"Once the radios went out, we picked up my wife," he touches the woman's shoulder, "Nereida, and Kyle's nephew here, Ari, from Newcastle. Made camp with a few others. Served us well for the past five years."

Ghost slowly nods and then drawls, "And Soap?”

Price leans his forearms on the table. "Not quite sure. The base was falling apart, but he stayed back, saying he'd meet up with us once he could. That was five years ago."

You're not sure who Soap is, someone else they worked with, maybe. There is a brief pause before Ghost asks, "Why did you leave?"

"More and more of 'em, Simon," Price replies with a slight shake of his head, emitting a low breath. "Made it difficult to even get food."

"Too many of them, not enough of us," Nereida murmurs distantly. Her hand slips under the table, out of view. You imagine it resting on Price's thigh as she leans into him with a weighted sigh. "They always seem to be moving. Not with a destination in mind, of course, but it was only a matter of time before they ruined our setup. We decided to leave before that could happen."

Kyles adds, "It wasn't an easy decision, but living in anticipation of the worst isn't really living at all."

Your brows lower. “Where exactly could you be headed that wouldn't mean living in anticipation of the worst?” you can't stop yourself from asking, the question burning in your mind. 

Price leans back, those warm brown eyes finding yours. A short heartbeat passes before he answers simply, "Switzerland."

The absurdity of that single word response forces a disbelieving, chuffed breath through your nose. Of all the things this stranger could have said, that would have to be the least expected. You anticipate an equally surprised reaction from Ghost, but he seems unnervingly unfazed. Blue, however, swivels her head from where she sits cross-legged in front of the fire.

"What the fuck is Switzerland?"

"It's another country," the boy—Ari—answers.

Blue glances between him and her dad. "Like... not in England?"

Ari snorts softly. "No, not in England. It's across the channel."

"The channel?" Blue frowns. "That's... far, isn't it?"

"Very far," Nereida confirms with a nod.

The subject is brusquely dropped when Ghost reaches for their cleared plates. "You must want to bathe while you're here. There's a river nearby."

Price clears his throat. "These two can go first." He gestures to the woman and child.

Soon enough, you become irritatingly aware of what's happening; you're being shooed away, along with the kids and Nereida, so the three of them can speak privately. There isn't much room to object as you shuffle out of the cabin, carrying a handful of rags for them to wash with along with the homemade soap that you once used to wash away the grime and earth that caked up from traveling. 

The sun beats hard, the river warmer now that spring has aged. Dried sweat clings to your spine from this morning, but bathing yourself is the last thing on your mind now, not when you're still reeling in the presence of people you don't know. You swing a glance at the cabin behind your shoulder, something in your gut twisting. Ghost doesn't want you there to hear whatever they're talking about. 

"This is a good spot," Blue says, stopping in front of a shallow part of the bank where the water is warmest. She hands Ari some soap and teeters on her toes. You realize why she keeps staring at him like that; he's probably the only other kid she's met in years. She is even more shy than when she first met you. "Twix and I will look away, don't worry."

You and Blue sit perched on a rock as they wash themselves. 

"This is weird," she admits quietly to you.

"Very," you mumble.

When they're done, you offer Nereida the only clean clothes you have at the moment: one of the oversized shirts Ghost gave you and some jeans. An annoyingly strange thought brandishes your brain... you don't like the way the black fabric sits on her bare chest, nipples poking through, and the hem hanging down to her knees as it does on you. You should've just given her the dirty blouse to wear.

She sits at the edge of the river, wringing her soaked hair with a rag. From the corner of your eye, you catch Blue helping Ari rinse his dirty clothes in the water. You want to keep an eye on him; your knife is still nestled around your ankle in case they try anything, though a woman and preteen don't heighten your paranoia as much. 

"How long have you two been together?"

Her soft voice makes you blink. "What?"

"You and Simon."

You're confused until you recall the revelation from earlier—the man you've known the past few months as Ghost, the one whose hard form laid beneath you just hours ago, is actually Simon. Simon Riley. You're tempted to say the name; try it out. But it is hard to reconcile with. It might taste strange on your tongue. The name fits a version of him that doesn't exist in this world now, you suppose. British. Simple. Like John or Kyle. The name of a lieutenant. The bits of his face you've witnessed crosses your mind; his nose, lips, and chin seem like Simon. The damn mask is Ghost, though.

"Jesus... I am not—" You shake your head, the sun even hotter on your neck. "I'm not with him like that. We're just allies." You glance back at the cabin in the distance and you fight a scowl. "If that."

She runs her fingers through ravenous tendrils. "Oh. I apologize for assuming."

You offer a small smile. "It's fine."

"How long have you been staying here then?"

"Um, a few months now. I used to stay with my sister and a friend, but they died."

Her eyes soften. "I'm sorry for your loss."

You shrug. "Everyone has lost important people."

"Doesn't make it easier," she says. "Ari's mom and younger sister used to be with us," she adds quietly with a solemn downward cast of her eyes, as if a memory has taken her for a moment. "They passed two years ago during a really rough winter along with this other couple we knew. Then it was just the four of us."

You inhale through your nose and release, frowning. "No child should have to experience that."

"No," she agrees, nodding. "They shouldn't. Which is why we're looking for a better life for him."

"And you think you'll find it in... Switzerland."

Nereida offers a half-smile, as if reading your thoughts. "We'd heard of a commune there, up in the mountains."

"A commune? Like what, a town?" 

"Sort of. Just... more people, living together. Protected. Greys make awful climbers, and the mountains there are much higher than anything in the UK."

This catches your attention, and the divot between your brows deepens. "How do you know it exists?"

"Well, we can't know for certain. John heard about it at the beginning of the spread, but it was too difficult to make arrangements at the time, especially when he had to help out at the medical site and then come find me. Things were a mess, I'm sure you remember."

"Yeah, I do." You reel in her words, thinking. "That was... years ago, though. Aren't you taking a huge risk going there now? What if nothing is there?"

"Staying in England would be a risk, too," she counters. "There is nothing here except death and hardship. You can't hide from it forever."

You look down at the water. Cicadas fill your ears, the buzzing drowning out your voice. "No, you can't."

You go on a hunt that afternoon, itching for some space to breathe. Deer tracks are harder to spot without the snow, but you find the unmistakeable marks of antlers against a tree and follow them. You glance around the forest. It feels endless and like a cage at the same time. Which way did they come from? If they made it to camp by morning, that means they spent the night here somewhere. You don't like the idea that others could be so close by, like that car.

The sun has turned orange by the time a healthy doe skirts in your peripherals. You stalk it behind an oak. An arrow flies from your bow, but you miss; the deer flees. You return in the dark empty-handed. No doubt, the visitors are fatigued, with Ghost already setting blankets across the cabin's floor for them to sleep on. You offer Ari the couch, figuring an exhausted kid needs it more than you do. He knocks out the moment he lays down.

"Here. For the night." Ghost offers you a heavy blanket and nods to the only bare spot of floor left after they've all settled down. 

You avoid his eyes and accept it. The moment he's disappeared to his room, you slip outside under the starlit night, finding the flattest patch of ground to lay the blanket down, which happens to be only a few paces away from a sleeping horse. It's not the couch, but it'll do for a night or two, and you refuse to sleep in the shed again. 

You're in the midst of standing back up after straightening out your makeshift bed when you bump into something solid. A hand grips your bicep and whirls you around, a pair of darkened eyes glowering down at you.

"What are you doing?" you breathe up at him. "I don't like when you grab me like that."

"What are you doing?" he retorts, voice low and hard.

"Trying to get some sleep."

"Out here?"

You look away and shimmy out of his hold. "Does it matter where I sleep?"

"It's not safe out here."

"You had no problem sending me out here before."

"You have since earned your keep," he mutters, as if annoyed you're even mentioning the past. 

"My spot is taken for the night by your lovely friends, so for however long you plan to let them stay, I will sleep out here."

"There is a spot on the floor for you inside."

"I'm not sleeping in there." With them. 

The whites of his eyes flash as he darts his gaze over your face. His tone softens perceptibly. A mere breath. "They won't hurt you, Twix."

You roll your eyes away from him. "I would just rather sleep out here by myself, okay? I prefer solitude at my most vulnerable. And it's not like my experiences with militant men have been pleasant so far." You keep your tone neutral, but a chill touches your spine at the memory.

Ghost emits a low huff. He suddenly rips the blanket from the ground and turns his back to you. "What are you doing?" you gape at him.

"You'll take my bed," he throws over his shoulder.

[wetpussyju1ce]

Awkward Alpha könig x Omega fem reader (smaller than König)

+18. mdni

big awkward Alpha König with the prettiest Omega in town as his girlfriend. he didn't even ask her out. she's the one who decided he'd be the perfect boyfriend and told him he should take her out. and he was too stunned to say anything so he nodded and that's how it went down.

he's not sure how he ended up with her. everyone is convinced he somehow blackmailed or threatened her to date him. considering their worrying size difference. I mean, it's not that she's the size of a doll, she's of an okay height, it's him that's fucking massive for no apparent reason. how his mum even pushed him out is scary to think about sometimes. but his gf doesn't give a shit that he's giant looking. all she cares about is that he's happy with her and that she's happy with him.

he does anything and everything she tells him to. he cleans things, fixes things, cooks whatever she asks if he has time and energy. and it's not like she treats him as a servant. she's just so in tune with him that's she quickly realised that he really likes doing things for her. it makes him feel useful. and she also realised that he really likes it when she praises him for it. gives him rewards for doing what she asked. it may be taking him out on a date somewhere and wearing a dress she knows makes him feral. she bakes him sweet treats, packs him an extra special lunch when he goes to work, and does this thing where she dedicates a special day and special time when they're both free to dote and coddle on him. and he loves it.

she kisses him all over, runs him a bath, washes and brushes his hair, applies skincare on him while pretending she's running a spa resort, and honestly, König sometimes is convinced she likes this more than he does. treating him like a doll or a kitten. but he doesn't give a rat's ass because this shit feels good. really good.

König's a good listener as well, she found out, he remembers things very well and is detail oriented, he cares and keeps things in mind. he does things exactly as she wants, none of that weaponised incompetence shit in sight.

but the only time where he's allowed not to listen, to do whatever he pleases is when she gives him permission to go to town on her pussy. and he does. with everything he's got.

König is no longer her soft and gentle giant. instead he fucks her with his whole weight, makes her really feel their sheer size difference. he bites and squeezes and licks and sucks, leaving marks all over her soft skin. He enjoys making a mess out of her. Enjoys battering her pussy so much that when he's done, he likes to admire his hard work, how her cunt is all red and puffy, how slippery and shiny her lips are and how stretched out her hole is, and his favourite part is the mess of cum leaking out of her, that's smudged between her thighs as she shakes on the bed, worn out.

then he hovers his body overs hers, grips his massive cock and taps it on her pussy, slapping it and watching the cum web and connect the tip of his cock and her pussy. he hums and shoves his thumb in her hole, pulling to the side and she sobs. König blinks at the mess between her legs and decides he's not had enough, and shoves his already hard cock inside her, so slowly not because he needs to stretch her out, but just because he wants to make sure she feels it all. She moves her arms to push him away, cheeks wet with tears, "Kö-- Baby, please, stop--"

König leans down and smacks a wet kiss to her warm cheek, humming, "Stay still, Alpha's not done with you yet, it's the least you could do for me, hm?" He grabs her wrists in one hand and holds them down above her chest, easily pinning her as her pussy throbs around him, hot and slippery. "I do so much for my sweet Omega, I give you so much, so give me this, all I want is to stuff your pussy full of me, knot you up until you're begging me to use your ass just to give your pussy a break,"

König knows he's just dirty talking, he knows that probably won't happen, that they do have safe words set in place just in case things get too intense. But that doesn't mean he can't get creative with his dirty talk, not when she's hysterical under him, leaking like a faucet and crying and heaving under him, "König-- Alpha, please, come in my pussy-- please,"

König snarls and starts slamming his hips, his balls slapping her with each thrust, with one hand over her chest, pinning her in place and the other near her head, holding him up, he's driving in her pussy with the sole intent of filling her up, like they both want. and when she's riding up the bed by the force of his thrusts, he gets annoyed that she's getting further from him, so he drags her back by the waist and turns her around, flips her on her stomach and wraps an arm under her, pinning her against his front. He's practically holding her whole body up against him, driving her hips to meet his, she's not even doing anything but wailing and drooling as he uses her body like a fleshlight.

König loves his girl, his sweet Omega, he's so grateful that he gets to fuck her nasty like she was nothing but a tight hole to him, but also wake up to her next to him in bed, that she loves him for his kindness and sweetness, and not just because of the fact that she claimed his dick is the best thing she's ever experienced. even if it is true.

[luveline]

oooh what about hotch's sister calling spencer to pick her up at the hospital after an accident or something because she doesn't want hotch to know since worry and go into protective big brother mode, but spencer tells him anyway and they both show up and lots of fluff ensues :)

adopted fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for panic attacks

You should call your brother. 

You think about it, even pull up his contact, he’s the first person you go to when you need help and he always has been, but lately Aaron has been so stressed you hesitate, clicking the text button by mistake. 

You read back his last message. 

I can feel myself being spread too thin but there’s nothing I can do to fix it, he’d text. I guess I’m frustrated. But how are you, working girl? New jobs are scary. I bet you’re doing better than you think already. Jack and I are super proud of you

You’d sent him a meagre response. You aren’t always sure what to say to him. Sincerity is easier in person, but even then, he can be terse and deflective; he looks after you and no one looks after him. 

You didn’t tell him about work, and you won’t tell him about now. You call Spencer instead. This is a good way to test the almost dating thing, right? 

He doesn’t answer. When you call again, he answers on the first ring. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“No. Are you busy?” 

“I’m not busy if you’re not okay. Two seconds.” There’s a pause where you assume he’s moving from one place to another, perhaps closing a book around his hand, or closing the lid on an early lunch. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m, uh, in hospital. I had a huge panic attack at work and I… thought I was having a heart attack, so I–” You’re so embarrassed your voice turns to a thread. “Sorry, I know it’s so stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid, that’s not stupid. How do you feel now?” 

“Like someone hit me really hard in the chest.” 

“Are you calmed down?” 

“Mostly.” You wince. “They want to talk to me about medications. Uh.” You clear your throat. “I want to go home.” 

“Angel… I’m on my way, okay? I’ll get Hotch and–”

“You can’t tell him.” 

“What?” 

“Please, Spencer, he gets so worried, he’s worried enough. And if he finds out I had a panic attack he’ll try and make me take time off of work and that’s just another thing on his plate he didn’t ask for–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, “please don’t panic. You’ve had a hard morning, panicking again is really gonna hurt. Try and think about things that don’t wind you up, alright? Is there anything you need me to get?” 

“You don’t have to come.” 

“That’s why you called me, right? I’ll be there.” 

You can’t know that he says goodbye and ducks straight back into Hotch’s office, where he’d been, to tell on you. It’s not to hurt you and it isn’t because you told him not to —it’s two parts concern, and one part self preservation. Aaron needs to know and you need him with you, and he also can’t imagine things going well for himself if he kept the news of your stay a secret. The shovel talk plays in his mind. 

Aaron’s shovel talk being, You won’t do anything to hurt her, said simply, and with an impassive expression that bordered terrifying. Not overly unaffected, just casual. 

You’re laying in your hospital bed with your hands clasped across your stomach when Spencer arrives. He frowns at you in your bed, worse when he sees your smudged makeup and the chafed inside of your wrist where you’ve picked and squeezed at your own skin. Your panic has left a physical mark, your chest aching as you force yourself to sit, and it hurts doubly so when your brother lets himself in behind your nearly-boyfriend.

You don’t have it in you to complain. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says, reaching down to give you a quick hug as you sit. “I had to tell him.” 

 Aaron’s hug is similarly apologetic, though much longer. “You weren’t gonna tell me?” he asks quietly, his hand settling at the place between your shoulders. “How do you feel now?” 

“I’m fine, I– I really thought I was having a heart attack.” 

“That’s common,” Spencer says, “it’s the feeling of impending doom, thousands of people mistake anxiety for medical issues every week.” 

Aaron holds you by the shoulders. “It’s okay,” he says. “Was it a doctor that checked you out, or a nurse?” 

Aaron probes the name of your nurse from you and promises to be back soon. He seems to have gleaned that the quickest way to get information today won’t be from you. 

Spencer goes in for another hug when he leaves, and then, to your delight, a very quick kiss pressed to your cheek. He ducks away after that and sits on the side of your hospital bed, his knuckles gracing the outside of your thigh. “Thank you for calling me,” he says, smiling at you, and better when you smile back.

“Thanks for coming.” 

“Of course. I know how it feels, okay? If they want to talk about medication it’s a good thing, but everyone has moments like this.” 

“I can’t believe you told Aaron,” you say, giving a weak but playful glare.

“I can’t believe you weren’t going to. He loves you, he wants to know what’s hurting you, no matter how much stuff is on his plate.” 

You bite the inside of your lip, contemplative for a few slow seconds. “You think so?” you ask finally. 

The hair flicked under his ears wobbles as he nods. “Absolutely.” 

You lean forward to readjust his collar and tie. He’s wearing one of his cutesy waistcoats, dark grey over a light blue shirt. His tie has patterns you trace with your thumb, like fish scales. “Sorry, I know you were working,” you murmur. 

“I think my boss will forgive me.” 

You let your hands fall. Spencer, perhaps picking up on a hint you hadn’t meant to give, takes them both into one of his and squeezes reassuringly. 

“It’s harder than I thought,” you confide softly. 

“It’s an adjustment period. But maybe it’s not right for you, there. That’s what started it, right? Your job.” 

“I’m not sure. I don’t know. I get panicky about all sorts of stuff, but I’ve never had one this bad before. I was a miserable kid, you can ask Aaron, but I really thought I was better.” 

He rubs over your fingers with his thumb. “I think we all have stuff that messes us up. Doesn’t mean you’re not better. You don’t even really have to be better. And I… I am here for you, I promise. I know you have no reason to trust me with it yet, but I’ll listen whenever you need me to.” 

You think about kissing him. Spencer kisses like he’s suffocating and your air, it’s cliche and undeniably true. Whenever you kiss him it’s like a shock —he steals your breath, he can’t stop himself from grabbing your face, and any other time you’d love it, but right now you just need a peck. You’re hoping he can do those kinds of kisses too. 

“Will you kiss me?” you ask tentatively.

He gets the memo on gentleness. You shouldn’t be surprised, your very first kiss was tame, his hand running up your arm as he encourages you forward. Your eyes shutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours, and the exhausting thrumming that’s lived beneath your skin since you woke up numbs to a more manageable ache. 

Spencer breaks away. He cups your cheek quickly, dropping it immediately when the door opens. 

You shuffle backward nonchalantly. 

Aaron gives you a sarcastic look. Really? it says. I wasn't born yesterday. 

“They want to give you a prescription for Paxil, honey, what do you think?” He turns his attention to Spencer reluctantly. “What’s her best option here?” 

“Paxil could be fine. They didn’t suggest a benzodiazepine? Paxil is an SSRIs, it slows down the rate of serotonin reuptake, basically increasing the effectiveness of your bodies natural serotonin, which could decrease the risk of another attack, but taking it won’t stop her from feeling like this,” —he frowns at your location— “very quickly. Ideally she should have a medication for general anxiety and the option for quicker relief if this happens again.” He smiles at you suddenly, nearly shyly. “If that’s what you want, that is.” 

“What are you thinking, honey?” Aaron asks you. 

You have the two of them here to look after you while you decide. You take Spencer’s hand gently, desperate for reassurance. “I’m not sure.” 

“It’s okay, we’ll work it out,” your brother promises. 

Spencer squeezes your hand. 

[thebunnednun]

Overworked

Pairing: Pro Hero! Katsuki Bakugou x Stressed! Reader

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

And you know what happens when you lie to Katsuki.

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

WC: 16,709

On with the show!!~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘🥰 🤬 Kat-Suki 🩷🧡   is calling…..’

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

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

“You look like you’re about to drop.”

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

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

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

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

“Hey, you there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“ ‘S fine with me.”

“K, bye.”

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

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘What the fuck?!’

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

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

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

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

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

This... this wasn’t right.

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

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

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

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

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

"BAM!"

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

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

Silence.

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

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

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

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

But… nothing. 

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

Just you.

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

Did you kill someone?

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

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

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

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

‘What’s Katsuki gonna do?’

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

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

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

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

Your home.

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

But God, you were so done.

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

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

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

And then you felt it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fear, the relief, the utter confusion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wasn’t buying it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wasn’t giving you a choice.

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

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

There was no room for resistance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We should to check in on them—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘God, I love your heartbeat.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good choice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Since I met you.”

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

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

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

You could have his babies right here, right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you, dumbass.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

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

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

Sweet relief!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You snorted, shaking your head. “No.”

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

“Nope.”

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

“Also, no.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Always.

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

I own none of the images or art!!!

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

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

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[rafesangelita]

i feel like rafe and sweetheart!readers first kiss comes from reader but rafe deepens it. like she’s teaching him how to make frosting and he’s got some on the corner of his mouth and sweetheart!reader is like “uhm rafe… you have- nvm” and just stand on her tiptoes to kiss it off and he goes nuts sitting her on the counter to finally kiss her the way hes wanted to the whole time.

warnings: fluff, heated kissing, rafe hating his job lol

“make sure you leave the mixer in there long enough.” you were currently teaching rafe how to make your infamous buttercream frosting, and even though he was doing good, he couldn’t stop himself from dipping his finger inside the bowl every five seconds.

“it’s gonna be gone before we could finish!” you laughed, playfully swatting his hand away. “alright, alright.” he backed away, watching as you took over mixing for him. “i really appreciate you, you know..” you had spoken up, meeting his eyes.

“for what?” you stopped what you were doing, leaning against the counter to face him. “for everything. i don’t even have to ask you to do anything for me, you just do it.” you shrugged. rafe nodded, smiling softly. the action drew your attention to his lips, a smudge of frosting smeared on the corner.

you giggled, shaking your head as you pointed at his mouth. “what?” he started wiping his face, your giggles turning into full on laughter as he continued to miss the spot. “where is it?!” just as you were about to reach up, you noticed the frosting on your own fingers.

“just- um, okay..” you tippy toed, bringing your lips to barely brush over his before pulling away. rafe just about died when he saw you lick away the sweet mixture, your eyes sparkling as you looked up at him. “did i overstep?” it was silent for a few moments before you found yourself being manhandled.

his lips were on yours in an instant, both of you melting into each other’s touch. you’d wanted this from him since the day he bought your entire basket of cookies at the country club. you moaned into the kiss as he picked you up, placing you on the counter.

nothing, not even the bowl of frosting next to you two, was sweeter than hearing those pretty sounds leave your lips. rafe wasted no time, slotting himself between your thighs as his hands dug into the skin of your waist. he had never wanted someone this bad.

you weren’t used to being kissed like this, your fingers trailing across his chest as he deepened it, his tongue finding yours. butterflies fluttered in your tummy when you heard rafe groan. “y/n..” he pulled away breathlessly, swallowing thickly at the sight of your already swollen lips.

“don’t stop.” you tugged on his shirt, a smug look forming on his face. as much as he wanted to keep going and flip up that skirt of yours, he pulled away, hard as a rock in his jeans. you noticed immediately, wanting nothing more than to please him in that very moment.

“i don’t want you to think i’m here just to have my way with you.” he cleared his throat, your shoulders falling in defeat when you heard the jingle of his truck keys. “i know that..” you trailed off, stepping closer to him. he took your lips again, this time placing his hand on the small of your back.

your eyes fluttered closed, your dainty palm resting in the curve of his neck. “please don’t leave.” you whispered, his erection pressing against your stomach. rafe pecked you one more time before his phone rang.

“hello? yeah, i-, i’m on the the way already.. yes, i know we have work early. alright. i’ll see you.”

“that was my dad. we have a job in the morning.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “when we take that step, i don’t want to be in a rush to get home or leave you before you wake up.” rafe held your face in his hands, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

you didn’t want that either. nodding at his words, you hugged him, relishing in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. “okay.” you hated every second of watching him walk to his truck. “we’ll pick up where we left off, ‘promise sweetheart.” you smiled, giving him a small wave as he drove away.

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat

construction worker!rafe spends his days ‘lifting heavy stuff and building shit’ and is always showing up to the small cafe shy!reader works at all sweaty and white shirt dirtied...

c/w: rafe being flirty, her having the biggest crush on him, suggestive, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1k

hope you enjoy xx

series masterlist

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Every time the golden bell above the door of the coffee shop dings and Rafe’s eyes settle on her soft form, the edges of his mouth tilt up— offering her a lazy grin as he asks what baked good she’d recommend for him to try that day.  

His visits have become something she begins to look forward to, him asking about her day with his raspy voice and big biceps bulging as he leans against the counter; always managing to drag a nervous giggle out of her. She feels like a Pavlov’s dog, her brain tingling and mind buzzing like a bee when the clock ticks away and the time he usually walks through the mustard yellow door approaches.   

And he thinks she’s just as sweet as sugar, especially when she smiles at him all bashful, trying to hide the way her eyes round out and her breath gets caught in her throat whenever he leans closer to her; asking what she’s doing after her shift with a slow drawl.  

And while she’s busy answering, he lifts his thumb to her cheek to swipe away a smudge of flour dusted over the skin there, lingering for a second too long. “Messy girl,” he’d murmur, purposefully trying to make her blush, taunting her.   

Slowly but surely, his visits become the best part of her day when she realizes she’s beginning to harbor fond, gooey feelings towards the slightly older guy who makes a show of loudly humming in satisfaction when he bites into a raspberry chocolate muffin she’s baked, honey dripping from his tongue when he showers her in compliments.   

And he seems to be pleased when she diverts her jittery eyes from his gaze and tries to busy herself with swiping a rag over a spot on the countertop (for the fourth time already), sneaking glances at him indulging in the confectioneries she’s practically forcing him to taste test now because whenever she tries a new recipe, she always wants him to be the first one to try it. And he’s not complaining.   

When he finds out she walks home by herself, even late at night, there’s no other option for him but to insist on driving her home because he doesn’t like the idea of such a pretty girl walking alone in the dark, doesn’t like it at all.   

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t wanna be a bother, m’fine,” she denies him immediately, to which he merely furrows his brows; telling her it wouldn’t be a bother at all since he can often work quite late as well— practically demanding to know what time she gets off that night. And she has no choice but to hesitantly reply, his stern tone almost compelling her to give into his every wish.   

It becomes a routine for them; him waiting for her to finish up cleaning and her mumbling out a soft thank you when he holds the door of his truck open with his palm on the small of her back guiding her inside. Whenever he teases her about being his little passenger princess, she practically melts into a puddle on the seat; trying to hide her flustered face from him, but failing miserably.  

And no matter how many times he’s driven her home, she still feels rather overwhelmed in the small space of his car, a plum tinge heating up her face whenever she feels his eyes on her, catching her staring at his big hands. She doesn’t know why he’s allowed to have such alluring details in the first place; a singular gold ring adorning his index finger and his strawberry lips so inviting.  

Therefore, it’s not really her fault when her mind gets lost in a haze and her brain turns foggy when she notices how his strong arms flex whenever he turns the steering wheel while his thumb taps against the leather. Or when his blunt fingernails scratch at the slight stubble on his face and she wonders how it would feel on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs or— 

“You, uh, you good, sweetheart?” Rafe asks and she blinks, realizing he’s asked her a question. A question her dazed cerebrum has no recollection of.   

“Sorry?” her face burns with embarrassment.  

A low chuckle rumbles from his chest. “What’s on your mind, hm?”   

“Oh, um— nothing, just, uh, tired and…stuff,” she attempts to sound convincing.  

However, his grin only widens. “Yeah? So, you, uh, you tellin’ me you weren’t just checkin’ me out?” his tone turns into something patronizing.   

“What? I— no, no I was just—”  

“Relax, m’just fuckin’ with you,” but there’s a mocking glint in his eyes that indicates she’s not being very subtle. 

“Asked if you were hungry?” he flits his eyes to hers once more.  

“Uh...yeah, sure. Don’t even remember how long it’s been since I ate lunch to be honest,” she starts to ramble, trying to ignore the murky thoughts trying to breach the surface.   

“Why don’t you, uh, come over to my place then ‘n I could make you somethin? Jus sayin’...I’m a great cook. Feels unfair that you’re always the one fillin’ up my belly,” he says as his mind starts to concoct a few other ways he could fill up her belly, willing to bet that she’d let him.   

After all, he’s not an idiot. He sees the way her moony eyes travel down his features whenever she thinks he’s not paying attention— thinks it’s absolutely adorable how sheepish she gets about it. However, he’s hesitant about the right way to approach it, not wanting to scare the shy little thing away.  

Therefore, he opts to warm her up with a homemade meal, and afterwards let her have a sweet treat; fuck her dumb until tears trickle down her cheeks and she’s a whimpering mess. He knows he could make her feel so good, wants to show her just how much she’s missing— wants to make her beg for it and wants to be a little mean about it, but most of all just wants to make her his. 

“Um…okay,” she agrees with a nod of her head because how is she supposed to deny him of anything when he’s looking at her with those eyes that resemble dulcet water puddles? 

[heich0e]

yuuji calls sukuna a lot.

it's almost like second nature to him now, muscle memory even, so many years since getting his first cellphone; any time he finds himself idle, maybe on his walk home after his part-time job, or on a break between his college classes, he picks up his phone and dials his older brother without thinking. they never talk about anything of importance—maybe just what yuuji did that day, or some gossip he overheard, or what the two of them should have that night for dinner—but he still makes the call.

sukuna always acts annoyed when he answers, greeting him with a characteristically terse 'yeah, what?' that yuuji never pays any mind to. but he still answers the call—at least most of the time—and that simple truth speaks volumes in and of itself.

sukuna's phone rings at a few minutes past 1am, and his little brother's name lights up the caller ID.

"yeah, what?" sukuna snaps groggily, holding his phone up to his ear. he'd passed out on the couch soon after he got home from work, a half-drunk and now room temperature can of beer left abandoned on the table in front of his spread knees. yuuji's babbling starts as soon as the call connects and his brother greets him, and it takes sukuna a moment to make sense of him.

"—'n now i can't finder!"

"the hell are you talking about, dumbass?" the elder of the two grumbles, scrubbing a hand across his face. his brother's voice is panicked and hard to understand.

"we got spliddup at the bar, 'n now i dunno where she is anymore—"

"don't know where who is? fuck, are you hammered?" sukuna complains, sitting himself upright on the sofa as he wipes sleep from the corner of his eyes, suddenly a bit more awake than he was when the phone first rang.

yuuji says your name with a croaking, worried voice, and sukuna sighs exasperatedly. he stares down pensively at the can of beer he forgot to drink on the coffee table, then his eyes flicker to a framed photo hanging on the wall across the room—the glass smudged, frame slightly crooked, and photograph sun-bleached from the years it's spent hanging there.

"just..." he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet, "fuckin' send me the address and stay where you are, idiot."

it's not hard to find his little brother once he arrives to the address yuuji sent him—especially since the youngest itadori brother is waiting (as promised) right by the entrance of the familiar bar near the university campus where both you and yuuji attend classes. it's still busy for so late in the night, but the clubs are closed now and little bars like this are the only places still open. sukuna's not even sure what the difference is anyway, because the lights here are still dim and the music is loud and there are still people dancing off to one side of the establishment, so the distinction between the two seems tenuous if not entirely negligible. but as someone who's spent his fair share of nights in bars just like (and including) this one, he's usually not really one to complain.

but tonight's different.

yuuji is teetering a bit when his brother arrives—an unusual sight, considering he's usually pretty good at holding his liquor.

"shit, how much did you drink?" are the first words out of sukuna's mouth when he approaches.

the youngest itadori's cheeks are flushed as pink as his hair, and he grimaces in the wake of the eldest's question—he's always been a terrible liar, especially when it comes to his brother, so he doesn't even bother trying to deny it. sukuna doesn't wait for a response in any case, turning his head towards the thick of the crowd and letting his eyes scan through it.

he doesn't see you.

"where'd you see her last?" he asks, leaning towards his brother to be heard over the music.

"by the bar!" yuuji replies, raising his own voice to overcome the bass. "she said she was getting one last drink, but she never came back to the table."

yuuji's lip wobbles a bit as he concludes his sentence, but he sucks it quickly into his mouth and catches it between his teeth.

"and you looked for her?" sukuna asks again.

"all over," yuuji nods, letting his lip slip out from between the bite of his incisors to reply. "fushiguro's doing another lap. nobara's checking the bathrooms."

sukuna ruffles a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing it's probably a mess from his rudely-interrupted slumber. "maybe she just left or somethin'."

"she wouldn't do that, you know that," yuuji says firmly. there's an insistence burning behind his eyes as he looks to his older brother, and it's the most sober he's seemed all night.

sukuna rolls his eyes, even though he knows yuuji's right—you'd never leave on your own, much less without so much as a goodbye. the two of you have been joined at the hip for long enough he's almost surprised that yuuji wasn't able to find you with some weird telepathic form of echolocation. he swings an arm up over his little brother's shoulders pushing him down a little just to tease him, before using his grip to tug him towards the crowd.

"you track down that little sea urchin friend of yours and i'll take a look around. meet me back here in ten minutes or text me if you find that little pest, alright?"

the bar is harder to navigate the further in sukuna travels from the entrance, the bodies pressing closer together with every step he takes away from fresh night air. he's pissed off, but that's not out of character for him. he's more pissed off than he usually is, considering not even an hour before he'd been peacefully sleeping at home, and now he's glaring at some drunk college kid who just almost spilled their beer on him.

"move," he hisses through his teeth at the wide-eyed kid whose life he can practically see flashing through his eyes as he shoulders past him. sukuna would be lying if he said the look didn't improve his mood at least marginally.

as sukuna weaves through the bodies in the bar, his eyes don't stop looking for you. it's almost startling how quickly he can rule people out—how definitively he can say that someone is or isn't you with just a passing glance. he starts to doubt himself as he reaches the far corner of the bar and begins to round back towards the entrance, an annoying, grating irritation in the back of his mind. worry, maybe, if he were the type.

then he sees you.

just the faintest glimpse of your profile, caught behind the shoulder of the man who has you backed into a corner by a pillar, hidden mostly away from the crowd—at least as hidden as anyone can be in a place like this.

sukuna feels his lip curling into a furious sneer as he takes a step towards you—people move out of his path wordlessly as he trudges over to that dark corner where you're tucked away.

it's only when he gets a bit closer that he's able to read the lines of your body properly. you're teetering, just like yuuji had been—the two of you had probably enabled each other in your intoxication that night like the stupid kids sukuna knows you both to be. but you're also distinctly uncomfortable, pressed up against the wall as if to put as much distance between you and the man hovering over you as you possibly can. your eyes glance off to the side, like you're searching uselessly for an escape.

instead, they meet his.

"sukuna," you gasp out in surprise, and the man you're speaking to glances over his shoulder in confusion. he seems annoyed, and a bit nervous, when he spots the man (taller, and broader than he is) standing behind him with a scowl.

sukuna hears the relief in your voice when you say his name. reads it behind your glassy eyes.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, reaching out towards him clumsily.

the man in front of you puts a hand on your waist—possibly to steady you, more likely to stop you—and it makes sukuna see red.

"hands off," sukuna snaps, wrapping a hand around your upper arm and tugging you into his side away from the creep.

"who's this? you said you don't have a boyfriend," the kid asks you, jutting a thumb towards sukuna accusatorially.

you mumble something quietly in reply about him being yuuji's brother, tucking yourself a bit closer to sukuna as you say it.

"your brother?" he asks as his eyes squint in confusion, having clearly only caught part of your explanation. "you're ditching me for your brother?"

sukuna's anger flares again at the entitlement this little brat has the nerve to display so flagrantly. the older man's hand slips down to your waist on instinct, and then lower still to the curve of your ass, making a show of how his big hand grips into the flesh beneath it. you squeak quietly at the contact, turning and hiding your burning face against sukuna's chest. he keeps his hand right where it is.

the stranger's eyes widen at the inappropriate display before him and sukuna leans in close with a vicious, almost manic grin.

"we're very close."

[blkbbyprincess]

wutiwant arcane!vi x blk!reader nsfw

*creakcreakkkkkkcreakcreakcreakk*

yes, it’s exactly what you’re thinking; sounds of such could be heard coming from your bedroom located in the firelights’ base where your big brother; ekko built sanctuary for zaunites who were struggling to have purpose in life and needed a bit of help and hope to get to a better place in it.

ekko was now well aware of you and vi’s “entanglements” as he would call them, because he’d usually find you two tangled up in your sheets late at night, giggling and breathing a little heavier than usual.

imagine the awkward first conversation between you and your elder brother after he finally connected the dots to find out you two were fucking each other.

it wasn’t even really surprising to him though, he knew you were into girls; and it was obvious considering vi was your first crush, but he just wished you guys wouldn’t go at it while he was trying to sleep.

back in the day, you and vi would always find ways to sneak off with one another back in your early teen years and sit atop the rooftops on zaun and hold hands while swinging your feet off the tallest building you could find. a few more instances of this, and that’s how you ended up with your first real kiss.

you two never really ended up together though; fearing a relationship could make things complicated in the future.

because living in zaun meant that your life wasn’t guaranteed for a long time, so you both decided to push back stronger feelings for one another emotionally, and instead started to mess with each other in other ways when you got older.

little sloppy makeout sessions in vi’s bedroom turned into her eating you out until you saw stars for the first time in your own room.

you don’t even think your rose had ever given you an orgasm like that before.

after that time, it seemed she was getting a bit comfortable coming in your room, that she’d pop up unannounced after doing gosh knows what in a day. maybe she liked the fact that your room was decorated with cute homemade fairy lights what were just bright enough to illuminate the room in the dark and capture your twisted facial expressions while looking you dead in your eye to make sure she was fucking you right.

this time, she was holding your left leg up from the underside of your knee joint, as she fucked you on your side, so pathetically slow and passionately with a cute dark pink strap that you picked out; dragging her toy in and out of you so deep, that you could have sworn you could feel it touching your liver.

“y-yesss, -hgnnnnn mama pleaseee keep going.”

she began to kiss you up and down your neck as she had her hand intimately intertwined with one of yours above your head.

your whimpers and gasps were nothing you could control at the moment because of the intense intimacy. you’re sure vi definitely wanted to hear a little more than that, but shut you up to avoid yet another noise complaint. without even realizing it, you were back to being loud again, so she hushed you with two of her thick fingers that touched your mouth in a “shushh” motion before pushing them in your mouth, making you gasp and clinch around the length.

“doin’ so good for me mama, ‘m i making you feel good, hmm?”

she temporarily removed her fingers from you mouth to allow you to respond as best as you could, but you were getting fucked so good, you were a bit delayed at first; because you couldn’t even tell that she was talking to you before you moaned “y-yesss m-ma’ammm-oh fuck.”

this look on your face was making that so hard for her, you were trying to look back at her innocently while reaching back with your free hand; arching your back a little more.

she momentarily took her hand that was in your mouth, and grabbed the back of your head to push your head into the sheets a bit more to get a better view of your arch; smudging your mascara.

guess it was a little too much for her, because all she could think in that moment was; “babies, babies, babies.”

so much for trying not to cum too quick.

“ah, s-shittt, you’re about to make me cum cupcake, keep doing that and i’ll make you a m-mmh momma.”

realistically you both knew the closest thing you’d get to a child from her was a baby doll, but it was fun to imagine you being pregnant because of her.

her pace sped up inside you with the strap, but you weren’t even realizing because you were too busy trying to keep up with how she was rubbing your clit at the same pace with the hot, wet fingers she had previously stuffed in your pretty mouth.

she could see your pretty, pink painted toes curling up and your face convulsing in all sorts of ways, letting her know it was about that time you were about to let it alll out.

“o-ohmygodddd vi, s-slow downnn, i’ts tooo m-muchhh.”

“i-i can’t baby, fuckkkkk- this pussy’s too good.”

a few more thrusts and you’ve made a hugee mess everywhere, and vi is kinda pissed she didn’t even get to see your face while doing it because she had her head thrown back with her slitted eyebrows furiously furrowed; accidentally cumming at the same time as you.

“shit, i think we gotta start over, ‘didn’t get ta’ see you cum.” she mumbled to herself.

you were too fucked out to even respond back; your pussy was still sore and sensitive from your recent orgasm, yet you found comfort in vi’s strap that was still in you afterwards, before she carefully slipped it out.

vi tiredly tossed the strap to to ground to deal with at a later time; but for now, she damn sure wasn’t finished. she was determined she made sure she saw you cum this time.

vi pressed her lips against yours, as she gently scooped her arm underneath your waist and flipped you with ease onto your back; getting a good view of your pussy.

vi grabbed your thighs and hiked them up to your chest so she could get a better view; and gosh did she have one. without a second thought, she slid a finger in, and then dragged it out; repeating the motion.

“look mami, she’s already making noi-.”

*knock knock*

with two quick knocks and no warning whatsoever, a swift motion of the door opened to your room to reveal your brother; ekko, who was dressed in a ribbed white tank top with a pair of fuzzy shorts and was holding a plate of your favorite dish; cheese toast.

“sis, you’d never guess what heimerd-“

there wasn’t even enough time for the two of you to properly react and get yourselves covered; as if he hadn’t known you two messed around, but that wasn’t the point, it was still embarrassing to have your brother walk in on you at a rather vulnerable time.

“s-shit!” you slurred; trying to sit up as vi’s fingers were still in you; mimicking a scissor cutting motion. vi whipped her head around to the surprise of your big brother at the door with genuine disbelief in his face as he had walked in on you two “handling” each other.

again.

vi slid her fingers out of your sopping hole and pulled your legs from your chest with a groan; she was just getting started again and was irked that she was rudely being interrupted. she pulled the cover up over your legs, and you instinctively lowered your legs down.

blocking your frame with her intricately tattooed back facing your brother, she gestured her head to somewhat face ekko’s way, with her body towards you still; eyes flickering between you and him.

“we’re a bit busy, little man.” she said with a slight smirk. you could hear it in her voice that she was a bit amused at how embarrassed you got as soon as he walked in; it was kinda cute seeing you all worked up over something that you knew she’d take care of.

“im already knowin’, considering you two cant seem to stay out of each other’s beds.”

“and it seems like you can’t seem to mind the business that pays you.” vi responded with a laugh.

“touché, i’ll have a comeback later though, it doesn’t seem like now’s the time to get to cooking on y’all.”

“i heard they’ve got good ones on google, now close the door; and if i were smart, i’d put some headphones on.”

“and if you were smart, you’d stop playing and date my sister already.” ekko said with a smirk; already having known about you two’s “arrangement” to only be fuck buddies, but with tension like that; there was no way you two didn’t want to be together.

vi damn near had to pick her jaw up off the floor, but she knew that he was right; oh how she wanted to call you her girlfriend, but didn’t want to rush your or make you feel like you had to change your mind on a mutual agreement.

“might have to strangle you after that one ‘ko.” she tried her best to keep a playful composure, when she knew good and well what he said seriously got her thinking and she couldn’t even be mad at him for saying anything either.

“time to mind the business that pays me!” and with that he grabbed the doorknob with one hand, and used the other to sit the slightly warm plate of toast on the near surface before strolling out with a giggle, closing the door shut behind him.

something about what ekko said made vi feel bad; because she wasn’t able to properly give you the love she felt like you deserved; yet you always chose her. of course she’d always choose you, but she wouldn’t be upset if you wanted to be happy with someone who had their shit together.

whatever did she do to deserve you.

once she figured ekko had been long gone from the door, she snapped out of her thoughts and turned back to you, once again giving you her full undivided attention. “you know i love you, but-“ she started as she stared into your eyes lovingly; yet desperately while reaching for your hands to intertwine them with hers.

“i know baby, i love you too.”

“always.”

this isn’t the first time you’ve said “i love you” to one another; there have been multiple instances with absolute casualty, because it just felt so natural to let vi know that you appreciated her dearly and took in every moment with her; just as she did with you.

so hopefully in the end, it wouldn’t hurt as much when that day had to eventually come for the both of you to say goodbye.

ekko had you thrown off a bit with the sap shit, but it gave you perspective; thinking on your relationship with vi. even thought it wasn’t official, you didn’t feel like you needed a label for everyone else to see how in love you were with her; because she already knew the extent.

you’d seriously never fall back off each other.

you had kissed after saying those three words to one another to really lock in the moment; but once you two pulled away, vi seemed like a completely different woman; there was a look of softness and sensitivity in her eye that you loved, because it proved she felt comfortable enough to feel like she didn’t have to show that strong side of her all the time around you.

you immediately noticed the change in her after the kiss and completely fell in love with her all over again like it was the first time. all kinds of memories between you two just began rushing through your mind making you remember how far you’ve come.

god, if only she knew the kinds of things she did to you.

some kind of way, you grew enough confidence in the moment to let vi know exactly what kind of mood you were in now.

“y’know we’ve got some unfinished business; violet.”

when you said her name; boy, did it send chills down her spine. something about the way you said it, made her pussy twitch with excitement just hearing the dominance in your voice.

but she knew better than to get too distracted quickly; because she knew you better than anyone and also knew how quick you were to find an opportunity to dom her; not that she minded ever or anything, but just not before she got to fuck you good first.

and that’s exactly what she did, because in no time thats how you ended up with two of her fingers back inside you, dragging in and out so slow that it hurt.

she could go a bit faster but what fun was that if she couldn’t see every twist and turn of your face reacting to every push and pull of her fingers?

“v-iiii -ohmygoddddd, h-hurtss-s s-soo good baby.” you were barely able to sit back up; she was about to have your ass handicapped and sore yet again by the end of the night, and all you knew to do was take it.

she fastened her pace with her fingers, and the pleasure was getting to be a lot for you, so you didn’t exactly know where to put your hands. instinctively, they threw themselves up to your breasts as she began to squish and squeeze at your nipples.

“ss-soooo goooodd.” you slurred; biting your lip and rolling your eyes back to your skull in a wave of estacy.

vi studied your facial expressions and mannerisms to take note of what really drove you over the edge to save for a later time. but the only thing she was worried about right now was being able to see those eyes of yours cross, as she gave you yet another orgasm that was worth your while.

“looks like i’m about to get exactly what i wanted cupcake, now all you gotta do is cum.”

[lizziesangel]

Request <3 Rafe asks Reader out and despite knowing of his turbulent reputation and arrogance, something in her says yes, even though she is hesitant to go. On the date, she interprets something he says as rude and storms out of there. Maybe there is a tiny little argument and rafe being sad in the sense of ‘’you have already made up your mind about me and how you expect me to act, you think I’m awful so your looking for those faults. I’ve always wanted to get to know you and I had hoped you could see me for me but clearly u think I’m bad like everyone else’’ but u kno….reader feels awful….happy end

oooh. this is gooood, had fun making this!!

+8.6k words

kie’s bedroom was buzzing with the sound of music and laughter as you sat cross-legged on her bed, your hair done, and a nervous flutter in your stomach that refused to settle. kirara was kneeling in front of you, focused intently on your makeup, her tongue poking out slightly as she concentrated.

“hold still, or i’m going to smudge your eyeliner,” she warned, her tone light but commanding.

“i can’t help it,” you said, laughing nervously. “what if this is a disaster?”

“it won’t be,” cleo chimed in from the chair near the window, her accent thick and her legs stretched out and her phone in her hand. “and if it is, we’re just one call away, sweetheart. you say the word, and we’re pulling up to rescue you.” she flashed you a wink, making you laugh despite yourself.

“okay, sit still, or i swear i’m going to stab you in the eye with this eyeliner,” kiara muttered, holding up the pencil like a weapon.

“i’m sitting still!” you protested, trying to stifle your nervous energy as she grabbed your chin and tilted it up.

“you’re fidgeting,” cleo said with a laugh. “girl, you’re more nervous than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

sarah, sprawled out on the bed with her own cold curling iron abandoned beside her, propped herself up on one elbow. “okay, but like, seriously,” she said, her tone shifting to something softer, “i know he’s my brother, but... just be careful, alright?”

your gaze met hers in the mirror, and you could see the concern in her expression. “i mean, i love him. i do. but rafe’s... complicated,” she added.

“that’s an understatement,” cleo muttered under her breath.

“wow, that’s super reassuring, sarah,” kiara said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she dabbed highlighter on your cheekbones. “way to hype him up.”

“i’m serious!” sarah insisted, crossing her arms. “i love him, and all, but he’s very complicated. you should know that before you—”

“get in too deep?” cleo cut in, smirking. “don’t worry, sweetheart. we’re just one call away if things go sideways.”

“i know,” you admitted, fiddling with the hem of your dress. “i’ve heard all the stories, sarah. but he’s been... i don’t know... different with me. like he’s trying, you know?”

“that’s because he likes you,” kie said, leaning back to admire her handiwork. “okay, close your eyes for a sec.” you did as she asked, and a moment later, you felt the soft brush of eyeshadow on your eyes. “but liking someone doesn’t mean he’s not still rafe.”

“exactly,” sarah said, pointing at kiara like she’d just proven her point. “he’s got a good heart, but he’s made some... questionable choices. just don’t let him pull any of that macho, ‘i’m too cool to care’ nonsense on you.”

“and if he does, call us,” cleo added, her tone breezy but firm. “i’ve been dying to tell that boy off for weeks.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image of cleo storming in, ready to confront rafe on your behalf. “thanks, guys. i appreciate the backup.”

“that’s what we’re here for,” kie said, standing up and dusting her hands like she’d just finished a masterpiece. “alright, check it out.”

you turned to the mirror, your jaw dropping slightly at your reflection. kiara had managed to enhance your natural features without overdoing it, and the soft shimmer on your eyes made them pop. “wow,” you breathed. “you’re amazing.”

kiara grinned. “i know.”

“okay, but real talk,” sarah said, sitting up fully now. “what are you even going to talk about with him? like, do you have a plan?”

“i mean... not really?” you admitted, feeling a fresh wave of nerves. “what if it’s awkward? or he says something that—”

“that pisses you off?” cleo cut in with a smirk. “let’s be real, it’s rafe. he probably will.”

“thanks for the vote of confidence,” you said, rolling your eyes but laughing along with them.

“but seriously,” kie said, her expression softening. “just be yourself. if he’s worth it, he’ll get it.”

“and if he doesn’t,” sarah added, “you have us.”

“exactly,” cleo said, holding up her phone.

despite your nerves, their support made you feel lighter, like no matter what happened, you’d be okay. “i love you guys,” you said, pulling them into a group hug.

“love you too,” sarah said, squeezing you tightly.

“now, let’s talk about what you’re wearing because if you show up looking like this,” she gestured at your comfy-but-basic jeans and sweater, “he’s going to think you’re not even trying.”

“do we care what he thinks?” cleo quipped, raising an eyebrow.

“no,” you said quickly, then paused. “i mean… maybe a little? i just don’t want him to think i’m trying too hard.”

“guys are dumb, especially rafe” sarah said matter-of-factly. “if you showed up in pajamas, he’d probably still think you looked great.”

kiara snorted. “not rafe. he’d have an opinion, trust me,” she said before handing you a dark purple-ish dress.

“oh my God, can we please not overanalyze this?” you groaned, changing into your new outfit, before flopping down on the bed again. “i’m already freaking out enough as it is.”

“relax,” cleo said, pulling you up by your hands. “you’ve got this. and if he’s a jerk? like i said—one call. we’ll swoop in like the badasses we are.”

“maybe with baseball bats,” kiara added with a mischievous grin.

sarah rolled her eyes but gave a small smile, “okay, let’s not go that far.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, their banter easing some of the tension in your chest.

“just… don’t let him get in your head, okay? if he’s a jerk, you walk away. no second chances,” sarah said, her expression softening.

“got it,” you took a deep breath and stood up, smoothing your hands over your new outfit. “okay, how do i look?”

“like a princess,” kie said.

“like you’re about to ruin his life in the best way,” cleo added with a wink.

“and like my brother doesn’t deserve you,” sarah muttered, though there was a small smile on her face.

you laughed, shaking your head. “alright, i’m going, he just texted. pray for me.”

“we’re doing more than that, sweetheart” cleo called as you headed for the door. “we’re on standby!”

“now go knock him off that high horse of his,” kie said with a grin, pushing you softly out the door.

“and remember,” sarah called after you, “if he messes this up, he’ll have to deal with us.”

“but mostly with cleo,” kiara smiled as cleo nodded in agreement.

you laughed as you stepped out into the evening, toward rafe’s car, their voices and laughter ringing in your ears. whatever happened, you knew you weren’t going into this alone.

the cool evening air nipped at your skin as you stepped outside, your nerves tingling with every step you took toward rafe’s car. his black SUV was parked right in front of kiara’s house, its sleek lines glowing under the dim porch light. it was so typical rafe—imposing, polished, and just a little intimidating.

behind you, you could hear the faint buzz of your friends through the open window, their laughter and whispered encouragements floating into the night. kiara had insisted on walking you out, but you’d waved her off, knowing they’d all be watching anyway.

“deep breaths,” you murmured to yourself, clutching the strap of your bag like a lifeline. your heels clicked softly against the pavement as you closed the distance, every step feeling heavier than the last.

rafe was leaning against the hood of his car, arms crossed, the sharp line of his jaw illuminated by the glow of the streetlamp. he looked up when he saw you, his expression unreadable at first, but then his lips curved into a lopsided smile—the kind that made your heart skip and your stomach twist in ways you weren’t sure you liked.

“hey,” he said, straightening up as you approached. his voice was casual, but there was something in the way his eyes lingered on you, taking in your outfit, the soft sweep of kiara’s handiwork with your makeup. it made your cheeks warm despite the chill in the air.

“hi,” you managed, your voice steadier than you expected.

“you look…” he paused, his smile softening. “beautiful.”

a flicker of warmth spread through you, but you fought to keep your voice steady. “thank you. you don’t look too bad yourself.”

his eyebrows raised a little, clearly not expecting the response. “oh, really?” he teased, looking you over. “guess i cleaned up nice then.”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but there was no hiding the small smile on your face. “i wouldn’t go that far, but yeah. you’re alright.”

rafe chuckled, the sound low and almost unbothered, and you were both quiet for a second as he opened the passenger door for you. his movements smooth and effortless, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—maybe nerves? it was hard to tell.

you slid into the seat, trying not to feel too much like you were stepping into the unknown.

as you slid into the seat, you stole one last glance back at kiara’s house. the curtains shifted slightly, and you caught a flash of cleo’s grin and sarah’s wave before they ducked out of sight.

he shut the door behind you, walked around to the driver’s side, and slid in. the car filled with the faint scent of his cologne—clean and woodsy, with just a hint of something sharper. the car hummed to life, and he glanced at you, that same smirk still tugging at his lips. “ready?”

not really, you thought, but instead, you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. let’s go.”

as the car rumbled to life and pulled away from kie’s house, you couldn’t help but feel like you were stepping into something you weren’t entirely prepared for. but then rafe glanced over at you, his smile genuine and a little unsure, and for a moment, the nerves didn’t feel quite so heavy.

the restaurant he picked was a small, tucked-away spot near the marina, its charm lying in its casual atmosphere. fairy lights were strung up around the outdoor patio, casting a warm glow over the mismatched wooden tables and chairs. the salty breeze from the ocean added to the laid-back vibe, and you were pleasantly surprised.

“so,” rafe said, leaning back in his chair with that easy confidence, a smirk playing on his lips. “be honest. how much convincing did sarah and your friends need, to let you come out with me tonight?”

you laughed, picking up your water glass. “what makes you think they tried to stop me?”

“oh, come on,” he said, leaning forward now, resting his arms on the table. “sarah’s been side-eyeing me since we were kids, and kie? she probably has a whole powerpoint on why i’m a bad idea.”

you almost choked on your wine at the mention of kiara and a powerpoint. “okay, that’s fair. there might’ve been a… brief conversation.”

“i knew it,” he said, grinning triumphantly. “wait, let me guess. sarah told you to be careful, kie offered to bail you out if things went south, because cleo—”

“threatened violence,” you finished for him, unable to stop smiling.

he laughed, shaking his head.

the air between you shifted slightly, the playful mood dipping into something more serious. but before it could get too heavy, you decided to lighten things up. “alright, mr. cameron, let’s test how much you actually care about the important stuff.”

“oh, this should be good,” he said, his grin returning. “hit me.”

“pineapple on pizza—yes or no?”

he groaned, dramatically throwing his head back. “no. absolutely not.”

“oh, thank God,” you said, relieved. “finally, someone with sense. pineapple does not belong on pizza.”

“right?!” he said, leaning forward, clearly pleased. “it’s disgusting. sweet and savory are not a vibe when it comes to pizza.”

“exactly! fruit has no business being anywhere near melted cheese.”

“see, i knew you had good taste,” he said, grinning like he’d just won something.

“you’re just lucky i agree with you,” you shot back playfully. “if i didn’t, this date might’ve been over already.”

he laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. “guess i dodged a bullet there.”

by the time the food arrived, you were genuinely having fun, the nerves from earlier all but forgotten. and as rafe cracked another joke that had you laughing so hard your sides hurt, you thought, maybe this guy isn’t as bad as everyone says.

after a few more bites of your food and another round of laughter, the conversation naturally fell into a more laid-back rhythm. you were both finishing off your meals, but the mood was light and easy, so you decided to keep the momentum going.

“alright,” rafe said, putting his fork down and leaning back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eye. “do mcdonald's fries go with the cheese and bacon sauce?”

you didn’t even hesitate. “yes. absolutely. it’s like the best combo in the world.”

rafe stared at you for a beat, clearly surprised. “what? what?”

“it's perfect,” you said, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “crispy fries, salty bacon, and that gooey cheese? heaven.”

he leaned forward, narrowing his eyes in disbelief. “you're really saying you dip fries in cheese and bacon sauce?”

you nodded. “yeah. and you should try it.”

he scoffed. “not gonna happen.”

you grinned, knowing you had won that round. “your turn. do you snoop in people’s bathroom cabinets when you're at parties?”

he smirked. “absolutely.”

“what?!” you burst out, laughing.

rafe smirked at your shocked expression, clearly enjoying your reaction to his answer. “what?” he said, leaning back in his chair like he’d just revealed the greatest secret in the world. “you’ve never been curious?”

you raised an eyebrow. “curious about what, exactly? what kind of toothpaste people use?”

“no, no,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. “it’s more about the little details. you know, like... the weird stuff people keep hidden in there.”

he leaned in a little, lowering his voice as if revealing a forbidden truth. “you’d be surprised what you find in bathroom cabinets.”

you were still processing this, trying not to laugh. “so, you’re telling me you’re the type to open random bathroom drawers at parties just to see what people are hiding?”

“not just that,” he said, clearly enjoying the whole thing now. “sometimes you find little oddities—like a first-aid kit with band-aids that look like they’ve never been touched, or a weird collection of shampoos no one’s ever heard of. it’s hilarious. you get a glimpse of what people are about.”

you stared at him, incredulous but amused. “so, it’s less about being nosy and more about... discovering their 'quirks,' huh?”

he grinned and shrugged. “exactly. it’s like a secret peek into their life, their habits. i mean, everyone’s got something they hide away, right?”

“yeah, i guess...” you said, trying not to smile too much. “but... isn’t that a little weird?”

“maybe,” he admitted with a chuckle, “but it’s harmless. it’s not like i’m digging through their underwear drawer.”

you burst out laughing, shaking your head. “thank God for that.”

he raised his hands in mock surrender. “hey, i know my boundaries.” he leaned back, a teasing glint in his eyes. “plus, i’ve got sophisticated taste when it comes to snooping.”

“right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “if ‘sophisticated snooping’ is a thing, you’ve definitely mastered it.”

“oh, i have,” he said with a wink. “but you’re lucky you don’t have a party at your place... you never know what i’d find in your bathroom cabinet.”

“don’t even think about it, cameron,” you said, feigning seriousness but grinning. “i’ll lock it all down if i have to.”

rafe laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “i’ll bring a crowbar next time.”

“please don’t,” you said, shaking your head, already laughing at the absurdity. “i’ve got enough weird stuff in there to last a lifetime.”

“now you’ve piqued my curiosity,” he said, giving you a sly smile.

you leaned back in your chair, raising your hands in surrender. “i’m not telling you anything. you’ll just have to guess what’s in there next time.”

“challenge accepted,” he replied, his grin widening.

“okay,” he raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “do you like romantic comedies?”

your response was immediate. “yes, i love them. they’re fun and lighthearted, okay?”

rafe gave a dramatic gasp. “what? you? seriously?”

“what? yes! i like feel-good movies, alright?”

“romantic comedies are so cheesy,” he said with a smirk. “like, who needs that level of unrealistic, over-the-top, ‘meet-cute’ nonsense in their life?”

“i don’t know, maybe everyone who wants to escape reality for a bit?” you shot back with a playful grin. “i’m not saying it’s life-changing, but it’s fun. plus, who doesn’t want to watch two people fall in love in the most dramatic way possible?”

“okay, okay,” he conceded with a sigh. “i guess i get it… but i’m still not watching one.”

you smirked, leaning back in your chair. “we’ll see about that.”

“fine, your turn again,” he said, crossing his arms like he was ready to take on anything.

“do you believe in ghosts?”

he paused for a moment, clearly thinking it over. “yeah, i think so.”

your eyes widened. “wait, really?”

“yeah. not all the time, but i think there’s something to it.”

you raised an eyebrow. “alright, what kind of ghost person are you? like, the friendly kind or the scary one that haunts your house?”

“more like the ‘your light flickers and you get the chills’ kind,” he said, his tone casual, but there was a spark of seriousness there. “but i don’t get freaked out by it. i kind of find it... intriguing.”

“what?” you exclaimed, laughing. “i’m definitely not inviting you over if there’s a haunted house involved.”

he shrugged with a grin. “you’d be fine. i’d protect you.”

you raised an eyebrow. “i’ll take my chances with the ghost, thanks.”

rafe chuckled, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “alright, alright. do you prefer dogs over cats?”

you didn’t even have to think about it. “no. a thousand times, no. cats are elegant, independent, and they don’t beg for your attention every five seconds.”

he leaned back in his chair, pretending to look hurt. “i’ll have you know, dogs are loyal and affectionate. they’d never judge you for anything.”

“cats don’t judge either,” you countered with a grin. “they just… have standards. and honestly? i respect that.”

“standards?” he echoed with a laugh. “is that what you call refusing to acknowledge your existence half the time?”

“they’re selective,” you said defensively, but you could see the smile on his face. “and when they do choose you? it’s special. dogs will love anyone with a pulse.”

“wow,” he said, his smirk growing wider. “you’re really riding for the feline overlords, huh?”

“maybe,” you said with a shrug, still smiling. “but at least they’re not trying to lick my face after eating who-knows-what.”

after a few more rounds of yes/no questions, the laughter and easy conversation continued, and you both found yourself enjoying the unpredictability of the game. by the end of the night, you realized that despite all the teasing and disagreement, there was something nice about getting to know each other in this simple, silly way.

and maybe, just maybe, you were starting to see the appeal of rafe cameron—despite his questionable opinions on romantic comedies and his lack of ghostly fear.

the night had been almost perfect. rafe had paid for dinner without making a big deal of it, his effortless charm making you smile more than you thought you would. as you walked back to his car, you couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—giving him a chance hadn’t been a mistake.

“you can just admit i have better taste,” he teased, shooting you a grin as he unlocked the car.

“you mean i let you win that debate,” you countered, playfully nudging his arm.

he rolled his eyes but grinned. “sure. let’s go with that.”

he opened the passenger door for you, that boyish charm still in full swing. but as you were about to step into the car, a sharp voice from across the parking lot stopped you.

“cameron!” one of the guys called out, loud enough to turn heads. a small group was hanging out near the curb, their laughter ringing out in the cool night air.

you looked up, your heart dropping slightly as they sauntered closer. something about their demeanor screamed trouble.

“yo, rafe! didn’t know you were slumming it these days!” one of them jeered, his voice dripping with mockery.

another chimed in, louder and cruder. “what’s the deal, man? thought you were into classier types. or is this just a one-time thing?”

“man, i didn’t think you still did one-night stands,” the first one said with a smirk, his eyes flicking to you. “guess you’ve still got a type.”

you froze, every muscle in your body tensing. it was like the air had been knocked out of you. did you hear that right?

another guy chimed in, his grin even slimier. “what’s the plan, rafe? dinner, a little sweet talk, and then you drop her off tomorrow like the rest?”

the laughter that followed was harsh and cutting, their words echoing in your mind.

you stood there, frozen, trying to process what they’d just said. did they think you were just some… hookup? was that what this was to rafe?

rafe’s posture immediately shifted—his jaw tightening, his shoulders squaring up like he was ready for a fight. “shut your mouth,” he snapped, his voice cold and sharp.

but you didn’t hear his response. you were too stunned, too humiliated by the way they had spoken about you, like you weren’t even a person. your head was spinning, and your chest ached, the weight of their words settling over you like a heavy blanket.

“hey, don’t walk away!” one of the guys called, laughing. “we’re just messing around. guess she can’t take a joke!”

rafe turned to them, stepping closer with an edge in his tone. “keep talking, and we’ll see how funny it is when you’re picking up your teeth.”

you didn’t catch that either. all you knew was that rafe hadn’t said anything to you. he hadn’t reassured you, hadn’t told them off in a way you could hear. all you felt was exposed and small.

when he turned back to you, you were already standing stiffly by the open passenger door, your arms crossed tightly over your chest.

“oh, come on, girl,” one of them said to you, chuckling. “we’re just messing with you. you don’t have to get so worked up.”

“shut your mouths,” rafe said sharply, stepping forward, his tone low and threatening.

but their laughter didn’t stop.

“get in the car,” rafe said, turning back to you, his voice still tight with anger.

but you couldn’t move. your chest felt heavy, and you realized your hands were trembling as you stared at him. “was that… was that what this was?”

“What was what?” he asked, frowning.

“that,” you said, motioning toward the group of guys still lingering nearby. “and this,” you said, motioning between the two of you. “was this just some… thing to you? just a one-time thing?”

“what? no!” rafe’s eyes widened in shock. “what are you even talking about?”

“what they said—was it true? is that what you do? take girls out, make them feel special, and then just… move on?”

“are you serious right now?” rafe asked, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “i told them to shut up! i told them they were wrong!”

“but you didn’t say anything to me,” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. “you didn’t stop to tell me that i wasn’t just some fling. you didn’t even try to—”

“because i didn’t think i had to!” he interrupted, his voice rising. “you should know that’s not what this is!”

“how am i supposed to know that?” you said, your voice cracking. “i barely know you, rafe. and all i know about you is the reputation you’ve worked so hard to earn.”

rafe’s face fell slightly, but he quickly masked it with anger. “you’ve already made up your mind about me, haven’t you? you think i’m just some player who only cares about himself. no matter what i do, that’s all you see.”

“maybe because that’s what everyone says about you!” you shot back, your emotions spilling over now. “and honestly? tonight, it doesn’t feel like they’re wrong.”

rafe stepped back as if you’d slapped him, his jaw tightening. “you think i don’t care about you?”

you shook your head, wiping at your eyes. “i don’t know what to think, rafe. but right now, i just… i feel like i shouldn’t have come here in the first place.”

his expression flickered, a mix of frustration and sadness, but he didn’t say anything.

you pulled out your phone, your hands shaking as you dialed cleo’s number.

she picked up after the second ring, her voice cheerful. “what’s up, sweetheart?”

“can you come get me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “please?”

there was a pause, then a shift in her tone. “where are you?”

you gave her the location, not even looking at rafe as you spoke. when you hung up, you stepped away from the car, wrapping your arms around yourself as you waited.

“are you seriously leaving?” rafe asked, his voice quieter now but still laced with frustration.

you nodded, staring at the ground. “yeah. i think it’s better this way.”

“better for who?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly. “because it sure as hell doesn’t feel better for me.”

you didn’t answer, biting the inside of your cheek. when cleo’s car finally pulled up, you climbed in without looking back, the weight of the night pressing down on you.

the date had started so well—better than you ever thought it could. but now, as you drove away, all you felt was disappointment and the sinking feeling that maybe you’d been wrong to trust him at all.

you arrived at kiara’s house feeling like the weight of the world was pressing on your chest. as soon as you stepped through the door, cleo was there, wrapping you in a hug without saying a word.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” she said softly, rubbing your back. “let’s get you upstairs.”

kiara and sarah were already waiting in kiara’s room, seated cross-legged on the bed, a tub of ice cream and an array of snacks spread out between them.

“oh my gosh,” kiara said, her face scrunching in concern as she looked up at you. “what happened?”

“start from the beginning,” sarah added, sitting up straighter. “you look like you’re about to cry.”

you let cleo guide you to the bed, slipping into the oversized hoodie kiara handed you before collapsing against the pillows. the moment the fabric enveloped you, some of the tension in your shoulders eased, but the knot in your chest remained tight.

“okay,” you began, taking a deep breath. “the date started fine. better than fine, actually. it was… really nice. he was charming, and funny, and it felt like he was actually trying.”

“that’s a good start,” cleo said, sitting beside you and passing over a spoon.

“it was,” you agreed, twisting the spoon in your hands. “but then, when we were walking back to his car, these guys—” you paused, swallowing the lump in your throat. “these guys said the worst things. like, they were making it sound like i was just some one-night stand he picked up.”

kiara’s jaw dropped. “what the hell?”

sarah groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “why does every guy he knows have to be such a douchebag?”

“that’s not even the worst part,” you said, your voice cracking. “rafe told them to shut up, but it didn’t feel like enough. and i—i just felt so…” you trailed off, staring at the tub of ice cream.

“used?” cleo supplied, her tone softer now.

you nodded, blinking back tears. “yeah. and then i asked him if that’s what this was, and we started arguing. he said i was assuming the worst about him, but—” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “did i overreact?”

“no,” all three of them said in unison, their voices firm.

“not even a little bit,” kiara added, scooping a giant spoonful of ice cream and shoving it into her mouth.

cleo nudged your shoulder. “sweetheart, you have every right to feel the way you feel. those guys were disgusting, and rafe should’ve done more than just tell them to shut up. he should’ve made sure you knew you weren’t some fling to him.”

sarah crossed her arms, frowning. “i know he’s my brother, but like, what the fuck? he knows better than to let people talk about you like that. he should’ve handled it differently.”

you sighed, tugging at the sleeves of the hoodie. “but he did try to defend me. and then i accused him of using me. i mean, what if he was being genuine, and i just completely ruined everything?”

“don’t do that,” kiara said, pointing her spoon at you. “don’t turn this around on yourself. if he really wanted to prove himself, he’d have done more than just argue with you. he’d have made you feel safe.”

“exactly,” cleo agreed. “he knows his reputation, and he knows it’s going to take more than one nice dinner to change it. that’s not your fault.”

“but i feel so stupid,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i let my guard down for once, and now i’m sitting here eating ice cream in someone else’s clothes while you guys have to cheer me up.”

kiara grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly. “first of all, this is exactly what friends are for. second of all, you’re not stupid. you gave someone a chance, and it didn’t go the way you hoped. that doesn’t make you dumb—it makes you human.”

sarah gave you a small smile. “and for what it’s worth, i don’t think he wanted to hurt you. he’s just… rafe. he screws things up, even when he doesn’t mean to.”

“still,” cleo said, cutting in, “he’s a grown man. if he wants to prove he’s more than his reputation, then he needs to act like it.”

you leaned back against the pillows, letting their words sink in. “you guys are the best, you know that?”

kiara grinned. “obviously.”

“now,” cleo said, handing you a tub of different ice cream, “eat up. we’re not letting you mope all night. we’ve got bad movies to watch and worse advice to give.”

you sat on your bed, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. it had been a week since the date, and while life had gone back to normal for the most part, there was still a small ache in your chest whenever you thought about rafe.

you hadn’t talked to him since that night. he hadn’t texted, and you definitely weren’t about to reach out first. it was easier to tell yourself you were over it—easier to pretend the whole thing didn’t sting as much as it did.

the soft ding of your phone pulled you out of your thoughts. it was the group chat with sarah, kiara, and cleo.

as the chat died down, you set your phone aside and stared at the ceiling. you weren’t sure if you were ready to face people—especially since there was a good chance rafe might be there—but a part of you knew your friends were right. you couldn’t stay in this funk forever.

with a sigh, you grabbed your notebook and started sketching out the rest of your day, already bracing yourself for whatever the night might bring.

the next day arrived with an odd mix of excitement and nerves in the air. you were determined to go to the party, even though a small part of you still wasn’t sure what to expect. the last thing you wanted was to feel awkward or run into rafe and spiral again, but your friends had insisted, and honestly, you couldn’t stay cooped up in your room anymore.

you’d spent the afternoon getting yourself together—taking a long, steamy shower to clear your head, eating a light meal to keep your energy up, and now you were just waiting for kiara to arrive.

the doorbell rang, and you jumped off the bed, your heart racing with a mixture of anticipation and nerves. you quickly checked your reflection in the mirror, running a hand through your damp hair one last time. you had cleaned up, but you knew the real fun was about to begin when your best friends worked their magic.

Youyouopened the door to find kiara standing in the hallway, a bag of beauty products slung over her shoulder, her usual confident grin on her face.

“ready to get glam?” she asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“glam? i’m just hoping to look halfway decent,” you joked, stepping aside to let her in.

kie didn’t waste any time, immediately heading for the bathroom to set up her stuff. you could already hear her pulling out different hair tools and products.

a few minutes later, cleo arrived, carrying an armful of clothes.

“alright,” cleo said, dropping the clothes onto your bed, “let’s see what we have to work with here.”

“you guys are way too extra,” you laughed, but the excitement bubbling in your chest was hard to hide.

“extra is our middle name, sweetheart” cleo replied, winking as she started going through the clothes.

just as cleo began pulling out options for your outfit, sarah knocked on the doorframe, holding a bottle of perfume.

“okay, i brought backup,” she said, giving you a smirk. “this is my secret weapon—trust me, you’ll smell like the moment.”

“is that the perfume you wore on your first date with john b?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

sarah’s face lit up a little, a soft blush creeping onto her cheeks. “maybe. but hey, don’t knock it until you try it.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. your friends were everything you needed right now.

kie called from the bathroom, her voice sing-songy. “come sit down, girl! we’ve got work to do!”

you grabbed a water bottle from your desk, taking a quick sip before heading to the bathroom to meet kiara. she already had a chair pulled up in front of the mirror and was holding a blow dryer in one hand, ready to start working her magic.

“let’s make you shine tonight,” kie said, her smile both comforting and determined.

as she started drying your hair and cleo began picking out the perfect outfit, sarah set to work on spritzing a cloud of perfume in the air around you, the sweet scent filling your senses.

it wasn’t long before everything fell into place. your hair was done just right—a little volume, but nothing too over the top but just enough to feel a little extra. cleo had picked out a black dress that hugged you in all the right places, elegant but simple. it had the perfect amount of edge. sarah’s perfume lingered on your skin, subtle yet undeniably there.

when you stepped back in front of the mirror, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. your friends had worked magic, and for the first time in days, you didn’t feel quite so weighed down by everything.

“you look amazing,” cleo said, standing behind you and adjusting the neckline of your dress.

sarah stepped up, fixing a strand of your hair. “totally. you’re going to turn heads tonight, trust me.”

kie grinned and gave you a thumbs-up. “there she is! ready to show up and show out.”

for the first time since you’d agreed to go to this party, a small, genuine smile crept across your face. maybe tonight wasn’t going to be as bad as you’d thought. maybe this was what you needed—just a night to be carefree with your friends.

the car ride to the party was filled with a mix of chatter, laughter, and music, with cleo DJing from the front seat while sarah and kiara were backseat drivers in the most literal sense, throwing in their suggestions for the perfect pre-party playlist.

the streets outside were buzzing, the sound of music and laughter getting louder as you approached Emma L’s house. you could see the cluster of people standing outside, a few familiar faces you hadn’t seen in a while. the flashing lights from the party’s entrance cast colorful streaks across the sidewalk, and the distinct smell of perfume, cigarettes, and cheap beer filled the air.

“alright, here we go,” kiara said, pulling into a spot down the street. “moment of truth. let’s go show ‘em how it’s done.”

you laughed nervously, adjusting the straps of your dress as your friends started piling out of the car. kie was the first one to slam the door behind her, her energy already high. cleo followed right after, pulling her jacket tighter around her, clearly ready for a night of fun. you took a deep breath, glancing out the window before stepping out of the car with sarah trailing behind you.

the moment you stepped onto the sidewalk and made your way toward the front door, it felt like you had crossed into a completely different world. the music thumped louder, the bass reverberating through your chest, and the chatter grew into a chorus of voices from all directions. you were already mentally bracing yourself for the crowd, but as you approached the house, kiara threw her arm around your shoulders.

“don’t even think about it,” she said with a grin. “we’re here to have fun, no stress.”

you smiled back, appreciating her reassurance, even though you felt a little nervous.

when you walked inside, the noise hit you full force. the house was packed, people sprawled across couches, standing in clusters by the snack table, and others dancing in the living room. emma was somewhere in the crowd, greeting people with a glass of something in her hand.

“look at this place,” sarah said, taking in the scene with raised eyebrows. “this is going to be a disaster.”

“you say that like it’s a bad thing,” kiara quipped. “let’s find some drinks and make this night memorable.”

you followed the group toward the back, where the kitchen was set up with an impressive spread of snacks and drinks, and a small cooler sat on the counter. the red solo cups were in abundance, and the air felt heavy with a mix of excitement and anticipation.

the sound of a familiar voice caught your attention, and when you turned to see who it was, your heart dropped a little in your chest.

rafe.

he was leaning against the kitchen island, talking with a few of his friends, a beer in hand. his eyes flicked to you as you entered, and for a brief moment, it felt like everything around you slowed down.

his expression softened when he saw you, and he seemed to hesitate before taking a step toward you, but you quickly turned your attention to the snacks, forcing a smile as your friends continued their conversation.

kiara, who had been watching the interaction, gave you a sidelong glance. “you good?”

you nodded quickly, trying to push the discomfort away. “yeah, yeah, i’m fine. let’s just enjoy the night, right?”

cleo and sarah were already grabbing drinks, taking no time to immerse themselves in the party atmosphere. it was clear they were ready to have fun, but you couldn’t help but feel the weight of rafe’s presence in the room.

as you sipped on your drink, trying to get lost in the chaos of the party, you caught glimpses of rafe a few times. he wasn’t coming over—he wasn’t forcing anything, but it was impossible not to feel like his presence was pulling at your attention, whether you wanted it to or not.

“he’s not the reason we’re here. we’re here to have fun,” kiara said quietly, nudging your shoulder.

you nodded, trying to push your lingering thoughts about rafe to the back of your mind as the music picked up again. you were here with your friends, and tonight was about just letting go. for the first time in a while, you let yourself dance, laugh, and talk with everyone around you. but even in the middle of the crowd, you couldn’t shake the feeling that rafe was still somewhere in the back of your mind.

the bathroom was quiet, the muffled sound of the party a faint thrum in the background. you leaned against the sink, letting out a shaky breath. the conversation with rafe from weeks ago kept replaying in your mind, and guilt gnawed at the edges of your thoughts. maybe you’d been too harsh, too quick to assume the worst.

trying to shake it off, you glanced at the bathroom cabinet. what would he say if he saw this right now? you wondered, a rueful smile tugging at your lips. probably some smug comment about curiosity getting the best of you. the thought made you hesitate, but then, before you could second-guess yourself, you opened one of the drawers.

it was mostly mundane—some hair ties, lotion, a pack of floss—but still, you peeked into the next one, stifling a laugh at how absurd this felt.

“i thought you didn’t snoop in people’s bathrooms.”

the voice was calm, almost casual, but it sent a jolt through you. you whipped around to see rafe leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and his eyes on you, unreadable.

your face burned. “i don’t!” you said too quickly, slamming the drawer shut.

he raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “really?”

“why are you even in here?” you shot back, trying to recover from your embarrassment, which happend quite quickly with the alcohol flowing through your system.

“i was here first,” he said with a small shrug.

your brow furrowed. “no, you weren’t. i didn’t see you when i came in.”

“yeah, because i was sitting down.”

“what? on the floor?”

“yeah.”

you blinked, utterly baffled. “wait, why?”

“why not?” he replied, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

your jaw dropped. “you’re just casually sitting on bathroom floors at parties now? what, is that some kind of weird new hobby?”

rafe shrugged again, his expression neutral. “it’s quiet in here. i needed a breather.”

“you’re insane,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“maybe,” he said softly, his tone shifting, his eyes holding yours. “but at least i know who i am.”

the weight of his words lingered in the air, and before you could respond, he sighed. “you know, i’ve been thinking a lot about that night.”

your stomach churned, and your heart sank. “rafe, i—”

he shook his head, cutting you off. “no, let me just say this.” he took a step closer, his voice low but charged with emotion. “do you really think i’m the guy everyone says i am? the selfish, reckless asshole who doesn’t care about anyone but himself?”

your throat tightened, but you couldn’t find the words fast enough.

“because that’s what it feels like,” he continued, his gaze unwavering.

“it feels like you already decided who i am, and you’re just waiting for me to prove you right. like i’m some kind of bad habit you regret getting involved with.”

“rafe, it’s not—”

he let out a dry laugh, his frustration slipping through. “you walked away that night without even giving me a chance to say something. do you know how that felt? watching you leave like you couldn’t stand to be near me anymore?”

your chest ached at the crack in his voice, the vulnerability he was trying so hard to mask. “i didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” you said softly, your voice trembling.

“then why did you?” he asked, his eyes searching yours. “because i’ve tried, okay? i was trying so damn hard to show you that i’m not who they say i am. but it just doesn’t seem to matter. it’s like you were waiting for me to mess up so you can tell yourself you were right all along.”

his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and tears stung your eyes. “i’m sorry,” you whispered.

he shook his head, his voice breaking slightly. “you don’t get it. i wanted to be someone different for you. i wanted to be better, to show you that i’m not just... the guy with the reputation.” he paused, running a hand through his hair. “but maybe that’s all you’ll ever see.”

“no,” you said quickly, stepping forward. “that’s not true. i—”

“then why?” he asked again, quieter this time, his tone almost pleading.

you swallowed hard, guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders. “i was scared, okay? scared that what those guys said was true. scared that i was just some... thing for you to pass the time with. and instead of asking you, i just... i ran.”

he studied you for a long moment, the anger fading from his expression but the hurt still etched deep in his eyes. “you should’ve trusted me,” he said simply.

“i know,” you said, your voice cracking. “i shouldn’t have left like that. i’m so sorry, rafe. i... i want to fix this.”

his lips twitched in a bitter smile. “you’re sure about that? because i don’t know if i can keep trying to prove myself to someone who doesn’t believe in me.”

you looked down at the tiled floor, your chest tightening. “i... i don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i think—i know i messed up.”

rafe didn’t respond right away, his silence stretching long enough to make your heart pound.

“it wasn’t fair,” you continued, glancing up at him, your throat tightening. “the way i left. the way i didn’t even let you explain. i shouldn’t have done that.”

he let out a quiet breath, leaning back against the wall, his expression unreadable. “why did you, then?”

“i don’t know,” you said, shaking your head. “i was upset, when... i heard what those guys said, and it felt like...” You trailed off, biting your lip.

“felt like what?” he pressed, his voice softer now.

“like maybe they were right,” you said finally, the words heavy on your tongue. “like maybe i was just another... another thing for you to pass the time with. and instead of asking you about it, i just...left.”

rafe’s jaw tightened, his gaze fixed on you.

“i guess i thought if i left first, it wouldn’t hurt as much,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “but it did. it hurt anyway.”

he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “so you thought i’d just—what? use you? like i don’t care about you at all?”

“i didn’t want to think that,” you said quickly, your voice cracking. “but it’s easier to believe what everyone says than to risk getting it wrong, isn’t it?” you looked at him, your eyes stinging. “it wasn’t fair to you, and i’m sorry for that. for not giving you the chance to prove them wrong. for assuming you wouldn’t.”

rafe’s shoulders relaxed just slightly, though his expression was still guarded. “you really think that’s who i am?” he asked, quieter now.

“no,” you said, shaking your head. “not now. but that night... i don’t know. i let myself get scared. i let myself believe the worst because it felt safer than believing in what i don’t know.”

he studied you, his eyes searching yours. “and what do you believe now?”

“i don’t know everything,” you admitted, your heart pounding. “but i don’t want to keep running away. i don’t want to see you as just... this idea people have about you. i want to see you for you. if you’ll let me.”

rafe’s shoulders seemed to drop slightly, and the tension in his face softened. “okay,” he said again, his voice quieter this time, like he was still letting the word settle. he leaned back against the wall, his arms folding loosely across his chest. “i get it, you know. why you felt like that.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the calm in his tone. “you do?”

he nodded, glancing down for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “i mean, look at me. i don’t exactly make it easy for people to see past the reputation, do i? the parties, the fights, the stupid crap i’ve done.” he shrugged lightly, a self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips.

“i’ve given people plenty of reasons to think the worst about me.”

“but that’s not all you are,” you said softly, stepping a little closer.

he gave a small, humorless laugh. “yeah, well, it’s not easy convincing people of that. and after a while... you just stop trying, you know? if they’re gonna think I’m a screw-up no matter what, why not lean into it?”

“that’s not fair to you,” you said, your voice firm.

“maybe not,” he admitted, his gaze steady. “but i get why you’d think i’d... i don’t know. be like that. use you.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. “i’m not saying it’s true. i’m only saying i get it. i’ve screwed up a lot. and when you’ve heard something about someone enough times, it’s hard not to believe it.”

“i should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt,” you murmured, guilt tugging at you again.

“maybe,” he said, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “but i didn’t exactly give you a reason to think otherwise, did i? i’m not great at... the whole being a better person thing.”

you smiled despite yourself. “you’re doing better than you think, rafe.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “oh, yeah? how do you figure?”

“you’re here, aren’t you?” you said, gesturing around the small bathroom. “you could’ve avoided me completely tonight, but you didn’t. and you’re not yelling at me or telling me i’m awful for what i did. you’re listening.”

he tilted his head, considering that for a moment. “huh. guess i am.”

“and for what it’s worth,” you added, your voice soft, “i like the guy who’s sitting on bathroom floors and listening. he’s... kind of sweet.”

rafe chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “sweet? that’s a new one.”

“don’t let it go to your head,” you teased, a small grin tugging at your lips.

“too late,” he shot back, a playful glint in his eye. “but... thanks.”

there was a pause, the air between you feeling lighter now, softer. he glanced at the cabinet you’d been rifling through and smirked. “so, find anything good in there?”

you rolled your eyes, laughing. “not a chance. this place is boring.”

“figures,” he said, leaning back against the wall, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. “you know, i don’t mind you snooping around, though. makes me feel less like the only weirdo in the world who does that.”

“oh, no,” you said, crossing your arms with a mock-serious expression. “you’re definitely still a weirdo, cameron.”

he laughed, shaking his head. “fair enough.”

as the laughter faded, he looked at you, something softer and more genuine in his gaze. “thanks for... sticking around this time,” he said quietly.

“thanks for letting me,” you replied, your heart fluttering as he gave you a small, crooked smile that felt more real than anything else in the world.

MASTERLIST

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆

@maybankslover ⟢ @honeyluvsatj ⟢ @zazidot ⟢ @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 ⟢ @lunaleah ⟢ @maybanksangel ⟢ @wtfdudesblog. ⟢ @niktwazny303. ⟢ @outerbanksloverp4l ⟢ @slut4you

[yeahxsurexokay13]

bragger, lando norris

summary: fans constantly tease yn for always bringing lando up and being a bit of a simp for her boyfriend - which only gets worse after his first f1 win - so she writes a song about how if they were her they'd do the same.

warnings: none i think??? but let me know if i missed any. the song mentioned is 'bragger' by kelsea ballerini!! (((:

IN HONOUR OF LANDO'S VERY FIRST WIN !! 🥇

y/n.updates

Liked by fan22 and 1.340 others

y/n.updates Y/n's interview with WIRED where she answers the web's most searched questions about her is now out! Go give it a watch 😄

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fan1 she looked painfully beautiful in this

fan2 how was lando in the answer for questions like 'does y/n speak spanish?' or 'is y/n a good singer?' lol

fan7 she said she didn't remember much from high school but knew some words lando had been taught by carlos sainz and that her boyfriend tells her she is... it kind of isn't that weird if u think about it haha

user1 The more I see of her, the more I like her

fan7 i spy with my little eye 1.6K people with no taste

fan3 interview was everything I hoped for and more! she's hilarious and relatable as always

fan4 new drinking game: take a shot every time she mentions lando

fan5 I've watched it like 5 times already lol

fan6 we need a tally for how many times Y/n drops 'Lando' in her interviews. can someone make that happen?

y/n.y/l

Liked by carlossainz55 and 1.890.321 others

y/n.y/l the vibe i bring to the function (ugly crying on facetime) !!! so incredibly happy for you @/landonorris. you did it 🧡🧡🧡

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y/n.y/l also congrats @/oscarpiastri and everyone else at mclaren for an amazing race ((((:

oscarpiastri thank you Y/n! 🧡 ❤️ by author

landofan4 ok this is very cute and nice of her🥺🥺

fan1 ARE YOU STILL CRYING ? BECAUSE I AM DEFINITELY STILL CRYING

y/n.y/l started crying on lap 54 and haven't stopped since

fan2 new post from my fave lando norris fan account yay (also go lando!!!!!!)

user1 Well deserved 👏🏼👏🏼

landofan3 soy lago

y/n.y/l same

lnfour LFGGGG ❤️ by author

fan3 How many times do you think Y/n's going to mention Lando's win in the next week? Taking bets now

maxfewtrell It's the messy hair and smudged mascara for me

y/n.y/l knew i should've gone for the 'perfectly composed while crying' look instead 😔

landofan1 rip lando nowins: 2019-2024 ❤️ by author

landofan2 "you were scared? i wasn't. i was ok (laughs). thank you. i love you" lando 🥹🥹🥹

fan5 when did he say that? omg

landofan2 f1 posted a reel on their profile and you can hear him talking to her!

mclaren LANDO NORRIS IS A FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER 🏆

y/n.y/l I AM SO NOT CALM ABOUT THIS ??!!?

user2 i could've sworn i saw her at the race? why are they facetiming?

fan4 they could barely speak after the win tbh! this is probably a call in between interviews

user2 today's bottle smash hit different ❤️ by author

landonorris I've said this like a million times already today but I love you so much

y/n.y/l i love you i love you i love you i love you

y/n.y/l

Liked by pietra.pilao and 1.809.896 others

y/n.y/l if he was yours, you'd do the same without apologising... new single 'bragger' out now!!!! 💋💋

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fan6 WHAT HAPPENED TO HWLLO ?? HOW ARE YIU ??

y/n.y/l 🫢🫢

fan1 "he's just too damn good not to mention" .....................i mean she is right we'll give that to her ❤️ by author

landofan1 USING THESE SPECIFIC PICS OF LANDO TO ANNOUNCE THE RELEASE OF A SINGLE ABOUT BRAGGING ABOUT HIM IS WILD !!!!

landofan5 that last video is doing things to me.........

landonorris i'm confused does anyone know who this is about?

y/n.y/l no idea 🤷🏽‍♀️ but let me know if you find out xx

landofan4 apparently about some guy named bob?? I'm not sure

fan8 HAHAHA I LOVE THEM

fan2 she really wanted to make sure she'd made her point clear with this dump omfg

fan3 her point: she has a hot bf and we don't

user1 Well played, Y/N. Well played. 🥸

fracisca.cgomes On repeat ❤️❤️

y/n.y/l lindaaaaaaa ❤️

landofan2 knowing all she's saying is about lando makes the song x1000 times better

fan7 so she saw the tweets... 😐

y/n.y/l i saw everything 👀 they were actually hard to miss hahaha

user2 "i understand why you would want him (i don't mind)" queen behaviour !!!!!! 👑👑

fan4 So this is how she gets back at us for all the teasing lol not complaining at all

landofan3 I can't believe this new song is actually inspired by the fans' teasing about Lando!!🤣

fan5 we joked, she delivered!!! bragger is actually a banger👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼