#looking into his padded cell

[claudeleine]

for iwtv show watchers, however bad u think armand is.. he’s actually worse lol

[vanweezer]

this is sooo cathartic. to me

[bylertruther]

whatever they put in will byers makes me want to carry him on my hip and cuddle him to my chest where i will then swaddle him in a warm blanket and love him and protect him from everything awful in the world so that he can finally rest and be at peace

and whatever they put in mike wheeler makes me want to reject domestication and wield a large ax jack torrance style and hiss and snarl and bite and move around on all fours like a wild chimpanzee that's been challenged to defend his honor like it's the last thing i'll ever do in this life

(and yes i'm normal btw 😌👍)

[babycharmander]

(THE BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS!!)

Thinking about Bill’s appearance at the end of the book…

[ID: BIll when confronting the Axolotl. He is shown in white silhouette, hovering in space, hovering neutrally. Notably, he has a massive crack running through his body, splitting him into multiple pieces, some of which are coming apart. /end ID]

When confronting the Axolotl, Bill is broken. The Axolotl even notes this: "Shattered, broken, not yet dead."

(Which, side note, makes me think Bill might have been lying about having been "kicked out of Hell," if he didn't actually die in Stan's head.)

[ID: Three pictures of Bill in the Theraprism. The first one shows him holding his hand against the side of his head in a dazed expression, sitting in a chair in a white padded room between a wizard with a clock for a face and Saturn (taken directly from the painting Saturn Devouring His Son). The second is a camera recording of him wearing an orange jumpsuit and kneeling in a cell, surrounded by arts and crafts tools, holding a pair of scissors, and beaming his thoughts frantically into a book. The third shows a mugshot of him staring blankly into the camera, his own name written on coded text below him. In all three images, he has a glowing scar where the cracks were, and is in one piece. /end ID]

When he's shown in the Theraprism, we see a glowing, static-y scar where the cracks were. The scar crosses his entire body (and even crosses to the other side of his eye without affecting it!), but he's actually whole, keeping himself together.

But then...

[ID: Two pictures of Bill from the last pages of the book. In the first one he is facing forward and holding up one finger, his eye reddened, his entire form glitching, and his crack is notably worse than prior, cracking through his eye, multiple smaller pieces drifting away. In the second one he is staring blankly at the viewer, his arms hanging limply, his eye wide and blank, the crack worse than the previous image, with more pieces floating away. /end ID]

In the last few pages, we see the scar is gone and the cracks are back, and even more of him is breaking away, including parts of his eye. It's especially bad in the last image, with even more pieces of him breaking away.

Also noteworthy is that the static texture behind him seems to be the same as the blood sample the US government took from him in the 1940s. He's bleeding.

We know from context that these images are meant to be taken somewhat chronologically. After dying (or nearly dying), Bill seeks out the Axolotl, who sends him to the Theraprism. While there, he writes the journal that he's beaming to us. The staff at the Theraprism catch onto this, and allow him to write out the last few pages, meaning those last few pages are chronologically the last of Bill we see.

This means that, after the events of the show, Bill was shattered... and then, upon entering the Theraprism, started to heal, his body coming together and scars forming... but at some point afterward, he started breaking apart again.

I'd made a post previously about Bill's development, how he views himself as a monster after the Euclidian Disaster, and how he continues to act monstrous afterward (and winds up agonizingly lonely as a result). I didn't really touch on this in the post, but I feel like after inadvertently destroying his home dimension...

Bill never left the denial phase of grief.

I could be wrong on this, but I get the feeling that part of his reason for acting monstrous toward just about everybody is because he sees himself as a monster, because "this is just how I am" is easier to accept than "I really really screwed up."

Bringing this back to his shattering... It's interesting to me that after entering the Theraprism, his body is scarring, which means it is healing. But then, at the end, as he's signing off the book, he's shattered again, and looking even worse than he did when talking to the Axolotl. When talking this over with a friend, they pointed out something that struck me:

Bill does not want to heal.

Healing means having to actually think through what happened. It means having to confront his past, confront destroying his home dimension, confront the harm he caused to others, confront the fact that he did not have to be this way.

And he refuses to do that.

He refuses to heal.

[kitten4sannie]

backstage bukakke with ateez ♡

a/n: is anyone in need of post coachella performance brainrot?? :33 and if any of you were wondering,, no i’m not okay 🙂‍↔️🫶🏼 without further ado, here’s a LOT more backstage debauchery (like i went insane….i should be in a padded cell rn….) except this time san brought the whole crew to help drown you in cum <333 enjoy the meal my dears bc i can never show my face in public again after this 😭😭

w.c: 2.4k

warnings: alcohol use, subby fem manager! reader, free use, domteez, gangbang, who’s the biggest menace here? that’s for you to decide 🫵🏼, this is just complete filth btw,, dirty talk, degradation/praise, pet names/name calling, so much cum….., yungi confirm the big cock allegations, hongjoong might have a captain kink idk, double penetration, anal, implied sloppy seconds/thirds/fourths kskssb, brief tit play, brief oral, cum eating, size kink, bulge kink, breeding, creampies for days, a bukakke as promised <3

Once the members sent out their last waves and finger hearts to the adoring fans and locals in the vast festival crowd, they made their way back to their temporary dressing room to catch their breath and have a celebratory drink or two. Brimming with adrenaline and energy due to their momentous performance, they erupted in enthusiastic greetings as soon as their dear manager entered the room, a few of them draping their arms around your shoulders to give you a quick hug.

“Manager-nim, did you like the show?” San spoke up, bringing his glass up to his mouth, taking a small sip of the potent liquor.

“You know you can just call me by my name, San, and I thought you guys absolutely killed it, like always,” you replied, scanning their faces, lightly adjusting the hem of your work blazer. No matter how many times you had all of their eyes and attention on you, you couldn’t seem to get used to it. It always made you feel hot under the collar, not knowing what was going through each of their minds when they looked at you the way they did. With interest. Hunger.

San couldn’t help but smirk, his dimples visible. You had taken the bait. He watched Yunho serve you a glass of whiskey. “You’re right. We’re way past titles, aren’t we? Especially considering the way I had you bent over for me right after our set last weekend.”

You choked on the liquor, your body suddenly feeling hot, especially under the heated gaze of the men standing around you. “S-San, behave yourself.”

He lightly licked at his lips, his gaze sharpening, ready to add to the growing heaviness of the atmosphere in the room. “Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart. You know better than that, don’t you?”

You bit into your bottom lip, looking up to Yunho for help, only to find that he was giving you an increasingly perverse smile, like he was reminiscing about something filthy.

Yunho reached down to wrap a lock of your hair around his jewelry adorned finger, sighing, “We could all hear the way Sannie fucked your brains out, doll, but you wanted us to hear, didn’t you? Even though you’re our manager, you’re still our good little slut, yeah?”

Something clicked into place inside your brain like it usually did when they talked to you like this. You could finally stop being so uptight and in control, instead allowing the eager members to do as they pleased with you. “Yeah, I am,” you nodded shyly, your insides on fire.

San took a step towards you, reaching out to run his fingers along your collar bone. “Can I ask you something?”

Your breath caught inside your throat. You knew what he was going to ask. You knew what they wanted. Despite the professional relationship you had with the members, you always seemed to end up in increasingly unprofessional situations with them. You couldn’t help it, not when they always made you feel so good. Wanted. Craved. “Say it, San….”

His pointer finger drifted down your chest, along the seam of your blazer, gazing down at you. “Can we make you our whore, Manager-nim?”

The members exchanged pleased glances with one another, some of them pulling at the crotch of their tailored pants.

“As long as someone locks the door, okay?” you answered underneath your breath, your eyes beginning to glaze over with lust.

San simply took a step around you, running his hands up and down your shoulders, coaxing you out of your blazer and unzipping your work dress, presenting you to his beloved members like you were a treat — one they would savor together.

-

“Don’t pass out on us now, baby,” San’s husky voice attempted to reach you through the fog you were in, his fingers gently rubbing at the fresh load that had splattered onto your flushed cheek, sliding his digits into your panting mouth for you to clean. “How many was that, hm? How many cocks have been inside you so far? Can our slutty manager remember?”

You stopped counting long ago, too fucked out to think about whose cock had already rearranged your insides and who had stuffed your ass full. You couldn’t even remember who had fucked your face either, but your sore jaw was proof that it was most likely one of the more gifted members. “I-i don’t know how many, just want more,” you whined out, looking up at San past your wet lashes.

“Yeah, you always want more from us, don’t you, baby? Want us to go to our limit? Want us to give you our all, huh? Are you going to milk us all dry like a good slut?”

You could hardly listen to his breathy, self-serving monologue, not with the way Wooyoung was gripping your hips and shoving his thick cock into you with abandon, like you were his own personal sex doll. “Uh-huh, wanna be good for you all…”

“How precious,” San sighed under his breath, all while he jerked himself off, beads of pre-cum spilling out of the twitching tip, watching the way his closest friend pumped himself in and out of your clenching hole, noticing the way his hips began to stutter. “Then, be good and take Wooyoung’s load inside that tight little cunt of yours, just like you took our Captain’s and Seonghwa’s earlier, okay? Can you do that for us, baby? Can you be our pretty little cum dump?”

You couldn’t speak, simply responding by squirting all over Wooyoung’s thrusting cock, just about ready to fall over from the overwhelming pleasure, but unable to with the way Mingi was behind you, his heaving chest pressing into your back, his ringed fingers lazily groping at your sore tits, balls-deep in your tight ass.

“Pretty baby, our pretty girl,” Mingi praised in a gravelly voice, his lips against your ear, squeezing your tits just as his groans began to crescendo, driving himself into you a few more times before he held still, previous loads leaking out of your ass and down the sides of his veined cock to the base as he filled you up again. “Can you feel that, babydoll? Feel the way I’m stuffing you full of cum? It feels so good, you want to cry, don’t you?”

All you could do was nod drunkenly, tears pricking at the corners of your hazy eyes, your trembling thighs growing more and more numb.

“Look at her, guys, she’s cumming just from being bred,” Wooyoung panted out, his hands squeezing into your sides, holding you still on his pulsing cock, not attempting to pull out until he was sure your inner walls were coated with his cum, chuckling smugly along with his fellow members at the way you desperately drew in another shaky breath and simply whined instead of forming words. “Poor slut can’t even talk. Someone should shoot their load down her throat. Maybe it’ll help ground her.”

“Way ahead of you,” Yeosang softly interjected, giving you a princely smile as he walked up to where you were positioned on the lengthy couch. He ran his slender fingers through your hair, slowly angling your head back as he did, bringing his slicked-up cockhead to your parted lips. “Say ‘ahh’, darling.”

Just as you obeyed, you watched Yeosang’s pretty flushed face contort in pleasure, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his pulsing length, milking it for all it’s worth, rope after rope of hot cum shooting into the back of your throat, a few dribbles remaining on your tongue. You were so full of cum, all of your holes were used up, and yet you needed more. “Not enough…More, please. I’m being such a good girl, aren’t I?”

San’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip, sharing glances with the other members, squeezing around the base of his cock to keep himself from busting right then and there. “Guys, I think we broke our manager.”

“Isn’t that the point? Look at her. She loves it,” Wooyoung pointed out, motioning to your blissed-out face, before he finally pulled out of you, reaching down to spread open your used hole, pleased sighs echoing inside the room. “Look, Sannie, her cunt’s all messy now. Ran through. Just the way you like it, huh, you sick fuck? You want sloppy seconds?”

San nodded his head, salivating, practically in a trance.

“Then, hurry up and shove your cock inside her before my cum leaks out,” Wooyoung tsked, climbing off of the cum-stained couch and smacking his hand against San’s ass to get him to spring into action, which he did, laying down on his back and sliding you down onto his cock inch by inch, but not before he tapped his leaking cockhead over your swollen clit a few times for good measure.

San’s dimples accompanied his shit-eating grin as he bottomed out, slowly running one of his hands up your lower abdomen to feel the outline of his stiff cock. “It’s so big inside, isn’t it, Manager-nim? Am I stretching you out nice and wide?”

All you could do was whimper pathetically, because not only were you taking San’s curved cock inside your cunt, but meanwhile Mingi had been showing Yunho the way your hole had begun to gape after the rough treatment you had taken, especially from someone with his size, knowing it was best that he prepped you for his best friend, knowing the term ‘horse cock’ didn’t even begin to describe what Yunho had to offer you. “It’s all for you, bro. Come and get it,” Mingi mused huskily, getting out of Yunho’s way so that he could replace him, one hand on your ass to keep it spread open for everyone’s viewing pleasure, as your hole slowly swallowed up Yunho’s obscene girth.

San and Yunho seemed to be in the middle of an intense competition, considering the way they both would continually thrust into you harder, and faster, grabbing at your tits and hips for leverage to fuck into you even deeper than before, if that was possible. “I-it’s not a–fuck–race, guys,” you cried out, suddenly being pressed back into Yunho’s warm chest when San sat up on the couch and folded you up, jack-hammering himself into you, using you like a cocksleeve. 

“Yes, it is, and I’m gonna knock you up first, not this loser,” San grunted out in between shaky moans, smiling with his canines at you, then at Yunho past your shoulder, who responded by bucking his hips up into you so roughly, he had to wrap his arms around your middle to keep you in place. 

“I’m fucking her ass, dumbass, I can’t even knock her up if I wanted to,” Yunho replied breathlessly, shaking his head, giving San a playful smile, before pressing his lips to your earlobe. “And I want to, tiny. Wish I could.” 

“Not with that attitude,” San huffed, blowing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, his vision beginning to blur with the sudden onset of pleasure surging through him. “I’m going to fucking–unnnh–fill up your slutty cunt with my cum, baby. Gonna make it so messy. And you’re, fuck, you’re so tight now. That’s our good cumslut.” 

“The perfect cumslut,” Hongjoong interrupted in a low voice, suddenly towering over you, holding his cock near your mouth, nodding approvingly when you began to suck and lick at the tip. “That’s right. You love Captain’s cock the most, don’t you, pretty girl?” 

Seonghwa pushed his way past the other thirsty members who were hovering around you like vultures, slipping his fingers into your hair and gently guiding you to his own cock, cooing at you approvingly when you let it hit the back of your throat. He smiled smugly at Hongjoong, who was now side-eyeing him. “Stay mad. It’s not my fault she has taste.” 

“You better watch it, Seonghwa.”

“You can watch our slut suck my cock.” 

Hongjoong grumbled to himself, reaching down to tug your head back just firmly enough to lead you back to his cock, before you took it upon yourself to sandwich their lengths together so that you could please them both at once. They stopped bickering and instead held onto each other, biting into their lips as their highs began to take over. 

It was then that San and Yunho emitted similar sounding guttural groans, fully sheathing themselves inside you, their fingers squeezing tightly into your hips from either side. 

“Cumming,” they both exhaled, resting their heads on either side of your shoulder, beads of sweat dripping down their jaws and along their straining necks. 

Just as hot cum poured into both of your used holes, Seonghwa and Hongjoong began to shudder and grunt out obscenities, aiming their milky streams towards your lolled-out tongue.

San suddenly waved for Jongho to come closer, pulling out just enough so that obscene globs of cum began to leak out of you, making you whine. “Here, cum inside her, JJong. I want my favorite maknae to finish our cumslut off.”

Jongho gingerly positioned himself near your gushing entrance and plugged you back up with his thick, throbbing cock, his strong thighs smacking into your delicate ones as he vigorously bounced you on his lap. “Want it?” he simply asked near your lips, making you blush.

“Please!”

Just as Jongho pounded his load and the others deep into your womb, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Mingi pushed their way closer to you, vigorously jerking themselves off in order to leave their own individual mark on you for the second or third time, extremely pleased with themselves once they covered their dear manager’s face and body in their cum. 

Once you all came down, you found that you couldn’t quite operate your body properly, not when your lower half was completely numb and throbbing with residual pleasure. San and Yunho took it upon themselves to cuddle you from either side, while Jongho gently rubbed your tummy in circles, wondering whose load would knock you up first. Only time would tell.

“How was that?” San asked softly near your ear. 

“We weren’t too rough with you, were we?” Yunho murmured, biting his lip. 

“How are you feeling, Manager-nim?” Jongho added gently, patting your tummy.

You sighed gently, reaching up to pat their heads, smiling at the men around you. And to think you actually got paid for this. You couldn’t have asked for a better job. “Guys…I’m fine, and for the record, it was so good, I don’t think I can ever go back to having normal sex again. I’m a bit concerned, actually.”

The rest of the members began to laugh, and you joined along, before clearing your throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortably sticky, looking down to see what you had all done to the poor couch. “Okay, so, who’s going to clean this mess up? And, it’s not going to be me. I can’t move my legs. I…think you guys actually broke me.”

San looked over to Wooyoung, who was already rolling his eyes, pointing dramatically at him. “I told you!”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[shotmrmiller]

a little prologue before i eventually write the schmeat.

pornstar au!

f!reader

Simon retired from the adult entertainment industry at 38 years old, but he'd been in it for a decade and a half.

He left his mark, going down in history as one of the greatest of all time in pornography. Simon was a living legend, and his cock was equally legendary which even attracted the attention of famous personalities. In fact, he made sure they signed an airtight NDA just to have the privilege of having his phone number.

It eventually became dull, however, and decided it was time to call it quits. He'd had his fun and now explicitly works behind the scenes with the casting and directing.

Not for the lack of trying on his hires' part though. He cannot recall how many times he's had actors trying to entice him into bending them over the black leather couch or fuck them against the walls of their dressing rooms.

Simon had retired and meant it.

That was, until you.

A fresh face, a rookie in the business but he's completely mesmerized by the video he's watching featuring his protege, Johnny. The scene itself was nothing special, just a dad's best friend script, but you...something about you was extraordinary.

He felt his manhood stir as he watched your lips parting in a silent scream as a climax washed over you, causing your toes to curl and fingers to dig into Johnny's biceps as he split you open on top of a kitchen counter.

Your eyes clenched tightly in bliss; head thrown back in pleasure. You weren't faking it in the least, not that it was ever in question— there was a frothy, milky cream around the base of Johnny's cock, your body twitched with the aftershocks of it, and he's had more than a lifetime's worth of women and men underneath and on top of him to know what a real orgasm looked like.

You looked delectable. His mouth watered as he thought of getting a taste of you— he wanted to eat that pretty pussy of yours like it was to be his last meal, push his thick fingers into your slick hole and make you ride his hand until you hunched over and gushed arousal down his wrist and forearm.

Simon palmed himself roughly outside of his trousers and hissed when Johnny covered your mouth with his as he rubbed your slippery clit under the pad of his thumb until you broke away to let out a choked scream— another peak that Johnny takes as his.

He fucks you through it with a slow undulation of his hips, just like Simon taught him, and only when your limbs are loose, syrupy, does he finally relent and in a few thrusts, he's pulling out and covering your glistening slit with his spend.

Simon grips his phone so hard, it makes a cracking sound. He's had A-list celebrities with unrivaled beauty begging for him to see them again. He's had Aphrodite in his bed and Adonis on his knees.

And yet none compare to the sight of you, skin dewy with saliva and sweat, damp hair sticking to your forehead, and another man's cum dripping out of you.

He's enthralled.

Simon tosses his cell and briskly walks toward his kitchen island, where his laptop sits. In a matter of minutes, he's sent an email to the company you work for and told them to name their price, he'd pay anything to get you in his studio.

They readily agreed, of course. No one denies Simon anything.

Simon runs his tongue over his teeth in anticipation; he's gonna lift you to the very stars.

Ghost is about to make his long-awaited return and only for you.

[my-castles-crumbling]

dare - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 188

"I just want to be sure you know," Sirius says, looking stressed, "he's off-limits. Like, completely. Not even a weird look, Prongs."

"Alright, alright," James drawls, leaning back in the booth they're sitting in. "I'm not an animal, Pads, I can restrain myself."

"Yeah, but, he's very much your type," Sirius says, waving his hands in the air.

James tilts his head. "My type? What do you-?"

But then the most beautiful man in the world enters his field of vision. He's all dark curls and silver eyes, his expression haughty and sullen. His small frame makes James was to pick him up and throw him over his shoulder, and right away, he realizes why Sirius was worried. Because all of his brain cells seem to have disappeared.

"Sirius. Sirius's friend," Regulus greets shortly, and James feels hot allover at the snub, because yes he does indeed like them a bit mean.

"Regulus. Pads has told me so much about you," James starts, a huge, adoring grin on his face.

"Don't you dare," Sirius whispers through gritted teeth.

But Regulus is already smirking, his eyes glued to James's.

[rafesgfs]

just a friend

he’s just a friend … but.

He’s just a friend, but he sleeps over almost every night. Whether you’re begging him to stay the night because you need a pillow or angry with him for insulting your friends, he’s there on your bed, substituting as a body pillow. No matter what position you fall asleep in, you always wake up draped across his chest, face nuzzled against the crook of his neck.

He’s just a friend, but he spoils you constantly. He gifts you a diamond tennis bracelet when your cat dies, hoping to cheer you up. He buys a convertible when you finally get your driver’s license, grinning when he sees your gleeful face. He showers you with your favorite flowers when get into your dream college. He buys whatever you look at when you take him shopping, repaying him with a kiss on the cheek, and it’s enough for him.

He’s just a friend, but you’re his only soft spot. Everyone else walks on eggshells around him, worried about being in his warpath. Even his own family wasn’t an exception to his hostility, especially after he stopped trying to win his dad’s approval. He does everything you want him to because why wouldn’t he? Hold your bag? No problem. Pick you up from a party? His pleasure. Stop being a rich, egotistical asshole? For you and you only.

He’s just a friend, but he’s your date to every formal and informal function. It’s just easier that way, you both explain to your friends. Midsummer’s preparation goes smoother when you already have a date, someone who will dance with you without complaint, someone who’ll make fun of whatever headpiece Rose is wearing, and someone who’ll sneak out early to drive their dad’s boat to another island.

He’s just a friend, but he knows everything about you. He comes with you to the doctor, dentist, and gyno visits for moral support, sometimes going in the room when needed. You had brought up being codependent but he quickly waves it off. He’s stocked a drawer in his bathroom with tampons and pads, and a few bottles of Tylenol in case you get your period on the nights you stay at Tanneyhill. He carries a cooler filled with water in his car because he knows you hate the intense heat. He wears an extra pair of sunglasses tucked in his shirt for you when you both go to the beach because you always manage to forget yours.

He’s just a friend, but his family thinks you’re dating. Sarah keeps asking you if you are, hoping to drag the truth out. You tell your friend no, laughing at the thought. Ward sits him down to talk after catching him admiring you during breakfast. He stays silent. Rose questions you about what she should give Rafe for his birthday, thinking the same as her husband. You laugh again at the thought, not noticing the way his jaw clenches when you make fun of the idea.

He’s just a friend, but he hates it when guys flirt with you. You’re too pretty to be entertaining guys who are far below you. He strains a muscle from resisting the temptation to punch the man standing too close to you, bicep veins popping out from the resistance. He drags you away when the guy tries to cage you against the wall, making up an excuse, needing help with containing a drunk Wheezie.

He’s just a friend, but he can’t go a minute without thinking about you. When life separates you, despite Rafe’s plans to be at your side twenty-four-seven, he texts you. He ignores Topper and Kelce’s snickers as he pulls his phone out during a round of golf, taking a picture of the sunset to send to you. His friends’ teasing is worth it when you text him back, telling him how much you like his improving photography skills.

He’s just a friend, but he can’t fight the urge to attack the guy kissing you. He blacks out, rage consuming every cell in his body as he breaks the man’s nose and grasps his throat until his hands leave bruises. His brain doesn’t focus until you’re back in his line of sight, blue eyes meeting yours. Despite the man coughing on the ground, surrounded by concerned partygoers, you pay no attention to the injured, instead, pulling Rafe away before yelling at him in his room.

He’s just a friend, but he’s at your door with flowers, apologizing. He stammers out an apology because he was never good at them, and never had the maturity to admit he was wrong and beg for forgiveness. When you stare at him with a blank look, he gets desperate, taking your hands in his and slowly dropping to his knees, eyes pleading with you. He promises to never get that violent again, and you believe him because Rafe Cameron could never lie to you.

He’s just a friend, but he kisses your forehead every night after you fall asleep, waiting for you to doze off before doing so. He presses his lips to your head, warmth in his heart as it yearns for yours.

He’s just a friend, but he wants to be more.

[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, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @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♡

[pathologicalreid]

hotchner!reader (hotch’s daughter) who’s married/dating Spencer, and then telling her dad she’s pregnant, lots of fluff please!! :)<3

goads and goats | S.R.

telling your dad (who is also your boss) you're having a baby ends in him giving spencer a hard time

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: accidental pregnancy, missed period, hotchner!reader, pregnant!reader, not proofread, dad!hotch, established relationship word count: 1.01k a/n: i have been so down and out about writing recently but i had so much fun writing this. i firmly believe that if spencer was dating hotch's daughter hotch would never let that man have a moment of peace.

“He’s going to throttle me,” your boyfriend announced mournfully, holding the door open for you to enter headquarters, the two of you flashing your badges at security before passing through the metal detectors together.

Rolling your eyes, you reached your hand out and nearly dragged him into the elevator with you. He had been digging his heels in the mud all morning, even going so far as to propose playing hooky, which you were fairly certain he had never done in the history of ever. “He is not going to throttle you. I mean, just imagine the HR implications,” you gently chastised, watching Spencer as he leaned against the wall of the elevator. “Hey,” you said, standing in front of him, you placed a hand on his chest, “We don’t have to tell him today, you know. It could be our little secret for a while.”

Quicker than you expected, Spencer shook his head, “Of course, we have to tell him today. What would happen if you got sent out into the field?” He self-consciously readjusted the strap of his shoulder bag before looking up to watch the floor numbers rise as the elevator went up, “If we didn’t tell him because of my own reservations and then something happened to you, it’d… I’d…”

Your chest clenched as his voice trailed off and you thought of the positive pregnancy tests that were still sitting on your bathroom counter. The tiny wad of cells that had been settling in your womb for weeks without your knowledge – until Spencer asked if you needed pads while you had been grocery shopping – was already so loved.

The first test had come back with such a faint line that you convinced yourself it was just a shadow of an indent on the fragile plastic, but the test you took this morning had been glaringly positive. Slowly, you reached out and took Spencer’s hand, intertwining your fingers as the door to the elevator opened and the two of you stepped out together, “Nothing’s going to happen to me, okay?”

Taking a deep breath, he nodded while holding the glass door to the bullpen open for you, glancing up, you saw that your dad’s office door was open. As soon as you set your things at your desk, you looked at Spencer, nodding up the steps, figuring it was better to do this now than wait.

By Spencer’s math, you were approximately five weeks pregnant, much earlier than people usually elect to share their news. Still, both of you immediately decided it was in your best interest to let your dad know right away.

Leading the way, you knocked on the heavy wooden door to get his attention, his head snapped up in the direction of the noise, shoulders relaxing slightly when he saw it was you, likely having thought a case was being brought in. “Do you have a second?” You asked softly, nerves creeping up as your father waved the both of you in.

“For you, of course,” he responded, nodding at Spencer in acknowledgment before watching suspiciously as the two of you sat in the chairs in front of his desk. “What’s wrong?” He asked, watching you fold and unfold your hands in your lap, it didn’t help that Spencer looked like he had been called into the principal’s office.

You shook your head, “Nothing’s wrong, Dad. We just needed to have a chat,” you told him.

Frowning, his curiosity deepened, “A chat?” Hotch questioned the word that wasn’t a frequent flyer in your lexicon.

“A talk?” You tried again meekly, knowing that he’d start making his own conclusions if you didn’t say something soon.

He looked over at your boyfriend, “If it’s just a talk then why is Reid avoiding eye contact?”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you exhaled heavily, “We should’ve waited,” you muttered to no one in particular.

“Waited for what, exactly? You’re not splitting up, are you?” He inquired, likely developing a list of forms that would need to be filled out if the two of you had in fact broken up.

You waved your hand aimlessly in the air. It seemed that neither of you had fully understood how hard it would be to announce your accidental pregnancy to your father and your boss simultaneously.

Since neither of you spoke, your father continued, “I’m obligated to side with my daughter. Which isn’t solely based on my belief that she can do no wrong, but if-“

“I’m pregnant,” you blurted, clamping your hand over your mouth as if you could recapture the words that had flown from your lips.

What followed was the silence that you had dreaded. Weren’t people supposed to jump for joy in situations like this? However, the moment Hotch jumped for joy for anything would likely end in someone being institutionalized.

Slowly, you dropped your hand from your mouth, watching your father as if he were a ticking time bomb.

“Is this a good thing?” He asked, finally shattering the wall of silence that had been put up.

Your eyes widened as you looked between your father and your boyfriend, “Oh, yes! We’re very happy,” you clarified, bracing your hands on the armrests of your chair.

Finally, your dad smiled and stood up from his desk chair, waving you over and enveloping you in a hug, “Then congratulations,” he told you, pulling away slightly, “How long have you known?”

You looked back at Spencer, who was standing up beside you and looking decidedly less nervous, “About ten hours,” he answered for the both of you.

Releasing you, your father looked your boyfriend up and down, “You should probably get married before the baby arrives,” he suggested. You recognized the mischievous look on his face – you frequently sported the same look.

“Right, of course,” Spencer said, straightening his posture behind you, nerves once again emanating from him.

You held a hand up, “An incredibly bold statement considering I was in your wedding,” you peered at your father.

Ignoring you, your dad continued, “So, we should settle on a dowry.”

“Dad!”

[ssahotchnerr]

Could you write something where someone compliments Hotch for "babysitting" and "helping out" when hes out with his kids and he gets all 😑😑 do you mean parenting my children?

standard parenting

omg LOL cw; dad!aaron, reader is referred to as mom, a ton of domestic fluff, very light suggestiveness (hehe reader and aaron are soo in love <3) wc; 1.2k

"Jack." Aaron moved forward, spotting his son as he climbed up a curved ladder, at the ready if he were to suddenly slip. "Careful."

"I am." He took the last, big step, his hands gripping the supporting bars and landing on the platform safely. "I've done this two times already Dad."

"Help your sister down the slide, okay? I'll meet the two of you at the bottom."

"Okay." He confirmed, beelining down a rattly bridge in the direction of Ellie.

It was approximately 3 pm on a Tuesday, the park filled with the afternoon rush of children freshly out of school. A doctor's appointment had brought Aaron out of the BAU early, and after picking up Jack from school, Ellie from preschool, he figured there was no better way to burn off energy than the playground.

Hopefully it allowed for a quiet, relaxing night at home, with both kids in bed at a decent time.

Aaron stood at the bottom of the slide, peering upwards and squinting - he had regretfully left his sunglasses in the car. Ellie stood at the top, looking a bit lost once her turn was next, the slide intimidatingly large for a newly four-year-old.

"Jack's coming, honey."

It took some convincing; Aaron reassuring her he was right there, there to catch her if she overshot into the mulch. Jack would be right behind her. Further hesitation on her end: Do you want Jack to go first? No. Are you sure you want to go down? Yes.

Finally down came Ellie, giggling profusely and not paying a mind to the static the slide caused (Aaron mentally winced at the sound). Jack followed soon after.

"See, there you go." Aaron praised, hands moving to his hips.

"Again, please please please." Ellie whined gently, looking up at Aaron with her identically adjacent brown eyes. It was something she was beginning to master, the puppy dog look that could cause him to cave within seconds.

He was in for it.

"Sure pumpkin." Aaron grinned down at his little piggy-tail headed daughter. "Just a few more times though, Mom's waiting at home."

"C'mon Ellie. I'll race you." Jack suggested, kicking up dirt as he bolted off without waiting for a distinct answer. She ran after him, as fast as her small legs could carry her.

Aaron called out after him, "The stairs, Jack."

"I know!"

"Cute kids."

A mother - Aaron inferred - commented, falling alongside him. Aaron's eyes continued to track the two of them, ensuring they remained together and stayed far away from any arched ladders. They dashed up the stairs, into the depths of the play structure.

Aaron offered her a friendly smile in return, "Thank you."

"It's nice to see someone so attentive for a change." She huffed, notably an impressed breath. "Most babysitters just sit on the bench on their cell phone."

Aaron's expression dropped; a mix of confusion and dumbfound, his smile gradually fading. The only thing going through his mind: I'm sorry, what?

"Well, I'm not like most babysitters." He frowned, pressing his lips together and eyebrows drawing into a line.

"Good for you." She commended, not taking the hint. A child called out to her, causing her to move forward. "See ya."

She left, but scowl on his face stayed.

It hadn't put him in a bad mood, but rather, a dulled mood. The inference could've been an honest mistake, it most likely was, but it settled funny within him.

Only at Ellie's, 'Daddy look!' did his face brighten up. For them.

-

"Hi Momma!" Ellie bounded into the kitchen, nearly crashing into you and smiling from ear to ear. "We're home!"

Jack added to her status report, voices intertwining. "Dad took us to the park!"

"It looks like you two had fun." You grinned, using the pad of your thumb to swipe away an unblended bout of sunscreen on the side of Jack's nose. You also took note of his grass stained sweats, and the dirt scuff on Ellie's knees.

"We did! Jackers helped me down the slide and Daddy pushed me on the swings-"

"No one pushed me on the swings." Aaron commented, his hand finding the small of your back momentarily as he brushed past.

"That's 'cause you're big." Ellie made a face at her father.

"Can we go again on Saturday?" Jack asked, "I wanna bring my soccer ball."

"We'll have to see what we're up to, bud," Aaron answered, also fetching him a cup of cold water. The car ride consisted of Jack stating how thirsty he was, and how he refused to drink the lukewarm water his bottle held. "But I don't see why not."

Meanwhile, Ellie plopped herself onto the floor, pulling off her shoes and dumping the remnants of lingering mulch onto the floor.

"Hey hey hey let's not do that." You said, your nose scrunching lightly too; the normal kid-stink that followed after an afternoon spent in the sun. "And baths, both of you. Go on, I'll be there in a second."

Ellie's voice carried as she ventured up, something along the lines of bringing her mermaid Barbie in the tub with her. You ruffled Jack's hair gently as he passed, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head.

"You know what someone said to me today?" Aaron asked, turning towards the sink to wash his hands.

"Aren't you forgetting something first?"

He stopped, a knowing smile forming on his face. "How dare I."

Aaron moved forward, hands finding your waist to pull you near, placing his lips onto yours for a few seconds. Albeit how short it was, you savored it; coming home after a long, long day.

Satisfied, "Enlighten me."

He paused to actually wash his hands, flicking the water droplets off once he finished. You tossed him the hand towel that happened to be nearby.

"Someone mistook me for a babysitter."

"What?" You snorted out a laugh.

"Left me speechless." He exasperatedly rolled his eyes, wiping his hands and throwing the towel back onto the counter. "Can you believe that?"

"Well, you know how some people can be." You shrugged. Your statement wasn't much help, but what could you do.

"Oblivious?"

"What prompted it?"

"Standard parenting. I was simply keeping a close eye. The slide made Ellie nervous, Jack was being a bit adventurous today, and the playground itself was a nightmare. Everyone had the same idea I did, it was packed."

You hummed in response, dumping the neglected water from Jack and Ellie's water bottles out. Aaron continued to ramble on.

"And she saw the two of them. Jack - he resembles Haley a bit more, sure. But Ellie?"

"Your twin."

"Exactly." Aaron scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Babysitter. How in the world does that title come to mind before Dad?"

He shook his head as his eyes found the ceiling; utter disbelief.

"You know," you raised an eyebrow, regaining his focus, "you're hot when you're fired up."

"Am I?" Aaron smirked, pulling you in again just as he did before, arm winding behind your back.

"Mom!"

A whine drifted from upstairs, Aaron pulled away from your lips with a comically heavy, defeated sigh.

You shoved him at the chest playfully, grabbing a laugh from him, heading upstairs.

"She, huh." You teased, "Are you sure it wasn't some strategically formed ploy in hopes you were unmarried? Wouldn't be the first time."

He trudged up the stairs behind you, a chuckle shaking through his chest. "I doubt it. She seemed genuine."

"And you would know." You quipped, ends of your mouth turned upwards.

"With my profiling expertise?" He bantered back, playfully patting your behind as you reached the second level. "I'd hope so."

[yandere-writer-momo]

Why write the usual when I can make everybody sad? This is a different take on the Yandere trope with the reality of being involved with someone who is obsessed with you (worse case scenario).

Yandere Short Stories: The Consequences

Yandere Ex Husband x Deceased Fem Reader

“(Your name)?” Alec stepped back in disbelief, his hands rubbed his eyes to make sure that the figure in front of him was really real. “(Your name)! Oh my god!”

Alec ran towards the young woman and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. His whole body trembled as his hazel eyes began to spill salty tears. He couldn’t believe it… he couldn’t believe this was real.

Her hair still smelled like (scent)… this couldn’t be a dream! This had to be reality! Yes… she came back to see him again.

They were together so many years ago and then she vanished into thin air. To see her again was like a dream come true! To know she was still on this earth and she had returned to his side was all the relief he needed.

Alec pressed a kiss to her head before he pulled away so his hands could hold her face. His thumbs traced over her pink lips as a sad smile crawled on his lips.

“You… you don’t look a day over twenty six…” Alec’s brow furrowed. How did she still look so young when it’s been over a decade since they last saw each other? How was that even possible?

(Your name) softly smiled at him, her hands rose up to gently hold the backs of his palms. Her hands were like ice… no. Her hands were as cold as death.

“This isn’t real, none of this is.” (Your name)’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I died, silly. Don’t you remember?”

“No… you’re not dead.” Alec’s lip quivered and his eyes became crazed. “You can’t be dead, we just had an argument was all.”

“Yes… and you killed me. Don’t you remember?” (Your name)’s form slowly began to melt away into that of a rotted corpse. “You stabbed me to death and buried me in the garden.”

“No! No, I didn’t…” Alec began to sob and shake his head. There was no way… he didn’t. He wouldn’t have… he loved her!

“It’s too late, Alec. What’s done is done.” (Your name) the crumbled onto the floor in a pile of bones.

Alec fell to the floor in a panic. Her tried to piece back together her bones back together but it was futile. “No! Please stay with me!”

Hot tears flowed down his cheeks, another sob racked through his chest. He pulled her skull toward his chest to cradle it. “I’m sorry… I just didn’t want you to leave me! We were so happy and… I wanted you to be happy forever.”

Alec continued to sob on the floor that slowly melted away into that of a white padded cell. Reality slowly began to slip in.

(Your name) would be happy forever in death while he would rot forever in this padded cell. This was the reality of his kind of love. This was the consequence of his actions.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

a little comfort fuck with Spencer Reid after he's back from prison, questioning if you still deserve him after everything that happened. (i love this man a completely normal amount i swear)

LOVE it!! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

SAFE AND SOUND.

spencer reid x fem!reader — smut

word count. 615

warnings. 18+ pinv, cowgirl on the couch, cute comfort stuff. minors dni

You found it difficult to process everything during those months of Spencer's absence, everything almost crumbling around you while your boyfriend sat in a cell for a crime he didn't commit. Every thought went to him, every ounce of energy went to him, every resource went to him, but it wasn't enough. The endless sessions in front of lawyers and his teammates felt almost pointless.

You didn't want to lose hope, especially for someone you love, someone innocent, but it was hard. You and his team struggled, and you couldn't imagine how Spencer was coping with it all - with all the changes.

But then, the day of his release finally rolled around. 

He had been back for almost two hours now: all fresh, clean and showered, tummy full with a hearty homemade meal. He wasn't himself, but as the minutes slowly passed, you began to see him settling back to being home, being safe. Tiny slithers of his old personality creeping back.

It wasn't long before you were rekindling the passion from before those few months, both of you on the couch - you sat atop him, straddling his lap. The full length of his cock, tucked snugly inside your pussy. 

Neither one of you barely moving, the grinding motion of your hips almost non-existent. It was as if your sole focus was to feel one another, to feel the skin of the other after all this time - the concept of cuming being a distant thought. 

His palms rest loosely on your waist, fingers skimming the hem of your baggy tee, the placement only there for your stability. His pretty hazels peered up at you from your slight height advantage, gaze keen as he looks over your features. 

You keep your hands on his face, palms over his cheeks, fingers grazing across his scalp as you hold his head carefully. You, too, kept your attention on your lover, watching those tiny microexpressions play across his face. 

It was as if you were both making sure that this was real, that you weren't imagining it like all those times when you were apart.

But then you notice his countenance change, eyes downcasting, his mere grip on your waist vanishing. The warm spot on your skin growing cold with his absence. 

"What's wrong?" you quietly ask, carefully tilting his face - making him look you in the eye.

He faintly shakes his head, the motion almost delicate. 

You could tell something was on his mind, something gnawing at his thoughts. With Spencer, when something good happened, he was often likely to question it - doubt if he even deserved it. And with him being home after all that time locked away, you knew those prior feelings would resurface, only worse this time around. All you could do was comfort him in the now, hoping that the little bits of love and care and affection you give him would bring him back sooner.

"Please let me be there for you," you murmur, gaze honing in on him. "Let me help."

He frowns softly —a sad smile— the corners of his lips tilting downwards as he brings his hands to the initial spot on your waist. His palms resting firmly over the slight indentation. "I will."

Your thumb glides over the apple of his cheek, pad lovingly swiping over him. "I'm happy you're home," you whisper between the close distance, tucking a messy, unkempt curl behind his ear. "I've missed you."

He presses a kiss to your lips, eyes darting over you. "I've missed you," he utters, voice soft.

You slowly wind over him, cunt dragging over his dick in no particular rhythm. "I'm glad you're back."

[merakiui]

winter woes.

yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, dub-con, breeding, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, implied stalking, obsession note - strangely, jade is thrown into his mating season in the middle of winter.

Jade thought it wasn’t so bad when he woke up in a feverish fog. He assumed it would dissipate once he got to moving, but it only seemed to worsen as the day wore on. He trudged through his classes with dimming focus, reasoning that if he wasn’t about to keel over and die he could survive a few hours of lecture.

It was fine. Nothing he couldn’t handle. He’s Jade Leech, Octavinelle’s talented Vice Housewarden! A masterful actor capable of brilliant efficiency, even when he’s at his lowest.

And yet he’s never experienced a day as detrimental as this one. He’s endured his fair share of sleepless nights, stagnant days, and monthly burnout. On some level, Jade suspected it was coming when the frost began to encroach on withered plants and leafless trees. He always finds himself bogged down with an annual case of winter woes. 

This pattern of behavior isn’t any different.

Except it is. Very different, actually. Unlike his previous blues, this one is markedly unique. He’s never been this delirious before, so much so that he staggers about like he’s learning to walk all over again. Winter blankets the world in white, condemning Jade to what he believes is Mother Nature’s padded cell.

Without enough stimulation or spontaneity, how can he possibly function?

Normally, he’d take to trekking in the mountains to clear his head. The biting cold is familiar, a reminder of the comforts of home, but it doesn’t soothe him like it should. He’s restless and itchy, perpetually hot all over. His clothes aren’t helping either, clinging like seaweed. He wants to shred them to pieces and dive into the sea. Or hike in the mountains. Definitely one of those. 

Alas, even if he wanted to scale a mountain, he couldn’t. Not when they’ve called for the possibility of an avalanche.

He is, unfortunately, stuck in the dreaded rubber room with his school uniform for a straitjacket. Only the room itself is made of ice, and it’s unpleasant and isolated. He’s left alone with his thoughts and they’re swirling around his skull in a flurry of snowflakes.

Clothes are truly unbearable… How can land-dwellers possibly endure such constrictive material?

Perhaps he underestimated his own mental fortitude. It’s bad. Very bad. So bad that he’s just as startled as you are when he crosses paths with you in the hall, catches the scent of your shampoo, and sprouts fins. 

“Oh, Jade, your ears!” You’re gesturing at his face with worried urgency. He follows your line of sight and reaches to brush his fingers along the pointed webbing jutting out from the area where his ears ought to be. You take a step towards him and Jade, rather foolishly, takes one back. You blink at him, bewildered. “Is…everything okay? You seem under the weather. Want me to walk you to the infirmary? I’m going that way right now, actually.”

Jade wets his lips and swallows thickly. Did you always smell this nice? No… No, he has to focus! Right. Focus on the issue at hand. His transformation potion must be wearing off. Surely that explains the sudden surprise of… Your hips—were they always shaped so nicely, or is it just an illusion from your uniform slacks?

No, he’s sure of it. Something’s different about you. His nose wrinkles.

Sweeter. That’s it.

You smell sweet like a flower or candy. And your eyes are brighter in this light as they look up at him, glittering like pearls in the deep. You’re wearing the same uniform, but you’ve never looked more appealing. And your hips—

Jade curbs that thought before it can deteriorate his sensibility far past his control. What was the topic of conversation? It’s his turn to respond, isn’t it?

“I’m quite all right. Thank you for your concern. This is merely an error on my part. I’ve neglected the time.”

“Really?” You say it like you don’t believe him. Jade forces a smile, gluing his gaze to your face to avoid looking anywhere else. “It’s not like you to be so forgetful. Geez. Is Azul giving you a break over there?”

He chuckles. “I assure you all is well in my world.”

As it happens, his world is currently tilting and spinning and blurring, messy like a shaken terrarium. Jade’s attempt to excuse himself is made in vain, for he strides past you and immediately stumbles. You hurry to steady him, your fingers wrapped tight around his arm. Your touch sends an unusual electricity bolting up his spine, and suddenly he’s overcome with a wild urge. He wants to push you against the wall, slot his knee between your legs, and bite your lips bloody.

He could do it. He knows your preferences. He knows you like he knows his hand. Intimately acquainted, even if you’re not aware of your second shadow. 

Jade yanks himself free as if the contact is scalding. His heart skips in his chest, frenzied in a way it’s never been before.

He’s had plenty of scandalous fantasies in passing, and he was content to leave them as such. But now…

Sweat beads at his brow and rolls down his back between his shoulders. He needs to shed these layers. A wildfire rages beneath his skin. It’s the middle of winter. Why is he so hot? Surely there’s a logical explanation for…you. Looking at him. You’re looking at him.

Oh, you’re so pretty.

“Jade?” You move in again, lifting your hand to his forehead. This time, before he can jerk backwards, you pull away. “You’re burning up!”

“Is that so? I must not have noticed…”

He has a quick-witted retort to tack onto that sentence, but it’s scrambled on his tongue.

“If I may, (Name), have you always looked so…”

He pauses, tasting the adjective in his mouth. He was certain humans didn’t have the same sort of broadcasters merfolk do—the shifts in behavior that allow for successful mating. Colors and sounds, a duet of language. Special scents and other bodily cues to convey secret messages. A mutual understanding between two. The need to fulfill a biological imperative beneath the sea.

Is that what this is about? He was certain his transformation snuffed that part of his biology. He’s not a mer right now. He’s human. So then why is he feeling so…not human?

Ready is the word he thinks he’s searching for, but he’s starving and so it comes out wrong. 

“Ripe. Like fruit.”

“Uh… No?” You cough out an awkward laugh. If Jade could feel shame, it would be raking its nails across his back. “Are you sure you’re okay? You know what—don’t answer that. Let’s just get you to Professor Crewel. He’ll know what to do.”

Jade spies his reflection in a nearby window. The markings under his eyes are showing through pale skin. There are flecks of scales gathered on his forehead. Mindlessly, he reaches to touch them.

You turn to look at him, and he can parse the shift in your attitude like it’s blood in the water—deliciously potent. He wants to dig his claws into you and never let go. He wants to love you until the very feeling is muddled and you’ve lost sense of what’s healthy and sane. If only you could understand, peer through his eyes for the day, and navigate the labyrinth that is his heart.

“Jade? You coming?”

He already knows what’s happening. He doesn’t need the diagnosis from Professor Crewel. He just needs you.

Before you can continue onwards in your beeline to Professor Crewel’s office, Jade seizes your hand. You don’t flinch, but you do struggle to put your confusion into words. The feeling is almost palpable, clear on your countenance like a cloudless sky. He watches you, trailing his eyes over your face and finding new things to appreciate. If he allows delusion to grip him by the throat, he can pretend the makeup is all for him—a discreet, enticing signal.

He reads it. He listens. He knows, even if it’s the furthest from what he believes it to be.

Jade clasps his hands around yours.

“Um… Okay then.” Your shoulders shudder with laughter. “Is this really you, Jade? This isn’t Floyd putting on an act again, is it?”

He shakes his head, suddenly disgruntled. Why would it be Floyd? Do you want it to be Floyd? His grip on you tightens to a possessive degree. He steps closer, not yet pressing himself against you but edging dangerously close. He doesn’t speak a word when he opens his mouth at you, revealing pearly points set in razored rows. You don’t seem to grasp the meaning behind his gaping maw, and it’s somewhat disheartening.

Logically, he’s aware of your very human ideals—ideals that fail to encapsulate the intricacies of moray courtship. Still, he hopes the sentiment comes through.

“Something wrong with your teeth?” You tilt your head and squint up at him. “They look fine to me.”

Jade shuts his mouth, considering his options. It would be much easier if this was the sea. Then he could present you with hypnotic bioluminescence, drape a chain of sea flowers around your neck, and offer you an entire month’s worth of fish. None of that is very viable on land. At the very least, he could replicate it—take you in a dark room and hope the shine in his eyes is bright enough to entice you, conjure flowers with magic, and scour the Mostro Lounge’s storage for enough food to last you through the season.

Surely the desire I feel for you transcends the great depths of the sea. He breathes out a sad sigh. I want to make you mine. I want you to look at me in the same way I look at you. Won’t you do that for me? Please…

As far as he’s aware, humans follow their own palaver when it comes to romance and attraction. What he’s learned from his time on land is that human courtship is, by his comprehension, excessively complicated. While moray courtship has clear, defined goals, each one outlined in the body language of both parties, humans baffle with the time it takes to secure a mate. Jade watches students get together and fall apart within the span of weeks. It’s fascinating. Dating is almost like a trial run—like testing a new ingredient in a recipe to see if it sweetens or sours the overall dish.

He could have gone that route; he was fully prepared to, but the human and mer sides of his brain are leaving him in a daze. It’s impossible to think like a human when his mer instincts are vibrating so intensely beneath his skin, every part of his deep-sea biology saying he ought to do it the mer way.

So he opens his mouth again.

He’s cheating when he nods at you. Somehow you work out half of his intention.

“My mouth? What about it?” It hits you then, and your eyes widen into the shape of a full moon. “Oh! You want to compare teeth size, is that it?”

Not exactly what he was aiming for, but it has you reciprocating anyway. You open your mouth to show off your teeth, and if Jade was of a more stable mindset perhaps he would have been content to simply observe. He doesn’t expect land-dwellers to know anything more than what’s taught in class.

“What do you think? Mine aren’t as cool as yours,” you say after a moment.

“I think…” He hesitates. The words are jumbled, and he almost says it in mermish. But it’s difficult to produce the syllables with his limited nasal capabilities in this form. A smile curves his lips up, and it’s so similar to Floyd’s dopey grin that it leaves you slack-jawed. “Pretty,” he says with a happy hum. “Very pretty.”

Before you can respond, his hands slide away from yours to secure tightly around your wrists. And then he’s pulling you in the opposite direction, through the main building’s many halls, until he finally arrives at his destination.

You’re tugged into the Hall of Mirrors next. Jade seems to be losing his usual gentlemanly flair, for he issues you an apologetic chuckle as an afterthought. His mer features look more defined now—even his skin tone is darkening to suit the color palette of his mer form. You weren’t in objection before, but now that you find yourself being pulled through the mirror and trapped in the bubble transport with Jade you begin to worry.

“Hey, hold on a minute! Shouldn’t we find Professor Crewel? Your transformation potion—”

The sound of shredded leather disturbs the air. Jade lifts his gloved hands for both of you to survey. His claws have ripped through the material, and he’s grown webbing beneath the tattered remains of his gloves. When he reaches for you, you flinch away.

An uncomfortable quiet falls over the bubble, only bursting once you’re inside Octavinelle Dorm.

Jade’s heart aches when he spies the unease scrawled on your face. Don’t look at me like that. Please, my pearl, don’t fear me. I would never hurt you.

Is it so wrong to want to smother you in an abundance of love? If this kind of love is forbidden on the surface, how is he meant to exist in the same world as you? It was possible for the mermaid princess and her lover. Is this not the same? It’s just love. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Right?

He curls his hands into fists and hopes the stabbing pain of his claws piercing his palms is enough to quell the urge to hold you.

“J-Jade…” Your voice is meek, a mere wobble. “Are you okay?”

He blinks, suddenly aware that blood is oozing from open wounds. “Ah… Forgive me… I’ve shown you such an ugly side.”

“No, I’m sorry! It startled me, that’s all.” You attempt a brave, albeit flat, smile. “I’m not scared. Just…surprised. Is this how all merfolk get when they’re sick?”

Jade wants to understand, but he has never known dread like that before. He’s a predator. He doesn’t need to feel fear when he instills it in others.

Still, it bothers him more than he thought it would. If you fear him… If you can’t present him with a real smile…

Is there even a point if he’s not the reason for your happiness? What is he if not the blight that destroys your flowering radiance?

Without fail, like a cruel cycle destined to burden him, the winter weather evokes morbid gloom. It darkens his consciousness like a shroud over a corpse or a cover on a mirror.

If you’re not scared, why are you keeping your distance? Am I truly so monstrous that you feel the need to cower? My love is sincere. I promise I would never hurt you.

But he would, if given the opportunity. And that’s precisely what he plans to do now.

So it catches him off guard when you surge forward to lace your hands with his. Carmine drips from his claws, pattering the floor in tiny drops. He stares at you with pupils blown wide.

“You’re my friend. Why would I find this side of you ugly? Just because you’re not at your best doesn’t mean it’s weird or bad.”

And isn’t that the worst? 

Jade’s lungs constrict when he kisses you. You try to jerk away, but he holds firm. Your lips part only briefly, and you manage a squeak of protest before he reclaims the space with ravenous intent. Your whines are swallowed whole as he all but devours your mouth like a famished animal. Sharp teeth click against your blunt ones. Jade laps at the back of your throat, savoring every gasp. You press against his chest in a weak struggle.

“S-Sto—wait. Jade—”

But even those words become appetizers for the feast that’s soon to follow.

It’s because I’m your friend that you place your trust in me. Thus, it will hurt all the more when I take that trust and crush it beneath my heel.

He’s never felt more alive, his body buzzing with exhilaration. When he pulls back, breathless and panting, you’re still reeling. He doesn’t give you any time to recuperate, for he tugs you along down the shadowed halls of Octavinelle.

You dig your heels against the tile. “Please wait! I don’t understand. What are you—”

You’re yanked forward again, and the rest of that sentence trickles into reserved silence. You hurry to keep pace with Jade as he drags you towards a door. A large indoor pool, dimly lit by the lights above, greets the both of you once it’s opened.

With furrowed brows, you glance at Jade. He’s looking right back, but it’s a strange gaze. He’s ready to pounce, just barely holding on to nonexistent restraint, every muscle riddled with tension.

“Sometimes we’re permitted to use this area for personal reasons,” Jade explains, shutting and locking the door with magic.

“Personal reasons… Like what?”

He smiles, watching the shiver roll though you. “Nothing against the rules, I assure you.”

“Right… Look, Jade, at the very least…” You wring your hands. “Um… Could you at least get in the water? I’m worried your potion’ll wear off any second now, and there’s no way I can lift you myself.”

“Your concern is much appreciated.”

He places one webbed hand on your shoulder, the other situated at your lower back. In one fluid swoop, he gathers you in his arms. You don’t have time to yell at him to put you down because he’s already striding over to the poolside.

“I do hope you’ll forgive my temperament. I confess I’m a touch impatient.” A lopsided smile strains on his flushed face. 

“Jade, don’t you dare—”

Your scream cuts through the air, echoing off the walls. He tosses you into the water without decorum. Jade sheds what’s left of his already tattered uniform and dives in just as the rest of his mer features overtake his human shell. Salt sprays around you in a resounding splash when you, coughing and spluttering, break the surface.

Jade watches your feet kick back and forth as you paddle towards the edge. The motions are hypnotic. What pretty, fragile limbs…

Gliding through the water with minimal effort, he circles you like a moon hopelessly devoted to remaining within your orbit. His hand wraps around your ankle, and he pulls you beneath the water to meet him. You struggle in his grasp, kicking and thrashing, but he doesn’t let that deter him.

Jade cradles your face in his hands. “So pretty… Like a pearl,” he clicks, his words musical and foreign to your human ears. “My treasure.”

He captures your lips in a mystifying kiss. Clumsily, his deft fingers work to peel your clothes from your person. You push back just as your bra is unclasped, gasping for air, and he allows you to surface after nearly a minute. He comes up with you, drunk off the taste of you. The world could be ending just beyond the confines of this pool and it wouldn’t even matter to him. Not right now, at least. Not when he’s at the verge of vehemence. So close. He’s so close.

“W-What’s up with you?” You cling to the pool wall, chest heaving. He follows your hand as it moves to cover your mouth. “You’re not usually like this.”

“Does it bother you?” He swims closer, effectively pinning you to the wall. He presses his nose to the dip between shoulder and neck and hums. With a boyish giggle, he smiles again. “You smell so pretty…”

“Jade…” You pat his head. “Jade.”

“Hm?”

“I… I’m flattered. Really, I am. But we can’t do this.”

He detaches himself to look at you. “We can’t?”

This time, unlike in the past, he isn’t playing dumb for the fun of it.

“I’m sorry, Jade. I think you’re a great friend, but that’s it. I tried to tell you earlier, but you wouldn’t let me.”

So that’s how you feel.

He’s cold-blooded by nature, but somehow this confession chills him more than the Northern waters ever could.

Just a friend.

“Ah. Is that so? My apologies for overstepping a boundary.”

You turn towards the wall to hide your exposed chest. “I-It’s fine…”

He admires the water droplets cascading down the slope of your shoulders. Winter woes and mating season make for a devastating combination, and Jade is the tsunami who will tear through you with reckless, remorseless abandon.

A clawed finger taps at your cheek. Defiant, you keep your gaze pinned ahead. “Are you, by chance, embarrassed?”

“O-Of course I am! Please close your eyes and don’t peek until I’m out of the pool.” With one arm held over your chest, you fish through the water in search of your waterlogged clothes.

Jade takes hold of your empty hand, marveling at how small yours is compared to his. So precious. I could hold this hand forever…

“There’s no need to be shy. Nudity is commonplace where I’m from.”

“Well, it’s not like that up here. Not always, at least.” You swallow thickly. “Please don’t look…”

“That’s tantamount to asking someone not to admire artwork in a museum.” Gently, he coaxes you away from the wall and into his chest. “You deserve to be cherished in full. Is that not why land-dwellers sculpt the human body?”

“That’s different!”

“How so?”

Please, (Name), you’re driving me wild. Please just let me love you. Please. It’s all I want.

“Most of them are representations of deities and other important symbols.”

“In that case, I am but your humble devotee.”

You roll your eyes. “Flattery doesn’t work on me.”

“No? Then how about this instead?”

Jade turns over on his back in the pool. You’re tugged along for the ride, settled on his chest like a turtle resting on driftwood. His arms wrap around you. Stubborn—an adjective known to describe Jade on occasion.

“Now I won’t see a thing.”

His smile is too cheeky for your liking, but that’s the last thing you’re thinking of. His hands creep down the expanse of your back. You yelp when he squeezes your asscheek. 

“H-Hey! Watch where you’re touching!” Your expression is meant to be threatening, but all it does is earn you a gentle laugh.

“Forgive me. My hand slipped.”

“Yeah, right. You’re not slick.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a retort. Instead, he floats aimlessly on his back. You press yourself to his toned body and silently hope he can’t feel your hardened nipples.

“Can you bring me back to the edge?”

“I can.”

Just not the edge you’re thinking of.

“Will you?”

“Eventually.”

It’s spoken like a promise, a sweet sigh. You don’t believe him for a second.

Once more, his hand dips lower than it should to rub against your bare pussy. You flinch out of your skin, sucking in a deep breath. His whimsical laughter is more grating than nails on a blackboard.

“Oops.”

You want to throw yourself into the water, but that would risk giving him an unintentional show and that’s the last thing you want. So you squeeze your eyes shut and, body taut, lie still. 

“Can you—will you tell me what’s going on?”

“I will.”

You wait for him to continue, but he chooses to bask in the silence instead. If you weren’t trapped in his embrace, you’d throttle him. Or try to, at least. He’s all muscle in this form, and it would be so easy for him to subdue you if he felt so inclined. The result of a wrestling match with a moray isn’t exactly in your favor.

Groaning in defeat, you play right into his game: “Can you tell me?”

“Allow me to show you.”

He propels himself backwards, his tail fin cutting smoothly through the water. You’re taken from the shallows to the deepest end of the pool. His hands find your waist and, with startling ease, he helps you up so that you’re sat just above his slit. It brushes against your pussy every time you shift. Minding his claws, he digs his fingers into your thighs to keep you still. You hurry to cover yourself with your arms, hoping to preserve what’s left of your decency.

“Many mers prefer spring and summer climates.”

“Because the water’s warmer?”

“That’s part of it.” His hands crawl up your waist to close around your arms. Gently, he pulls them away from your chest. His eyes stick to your breasts, but you can’t muster the courage to fight him. “The water is warm and food is plentiful. The perfect time to find a willing mate.”

“So this is—you’re in…heat, basically?”

“It’s rather unbearable if left untreated.”

“You say that like it’s an illness…” Shaking your head, you sigh and offer a sympathetic grimace. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t think I can help. I don’t know the first thing about moray mating!”

“I wouldn’t say that. You possess all the proper equipment. It’s merely a matter of body language, really. Think of it like dancing,” he assures, petting your inner thigh. You watch his fingers inch closer and closer to your pussy, and with an embarrassed gasp you place your hand over it. “Won’t you be a dear friend and help a poor moray in need? I would be very grateful to have your assistance. In fact, I would be in your debt. Isn’t that most advantageous?”

“No way! Ask someone else.”

“I would if I could, but this isn’t the type of issue one can treat so carelessly. Selecting a mate is of great importance in the sea.”

“So go to the sea and do it.”

“We’re already there.” He chuckles at the dubious glower you give him. “As it happens, Octavinelle’s surrounding territory is entirely oceanic. How fortunate for us.”

“Why does it have to be me?”

My dear pearl, I treasure you something fierce, but you’re wearing my patience painfully thin.

“Why not?”

“Didn’t you just say picking a mate is super special?”

He hums, wondering if you’re feigning ignorance for the sake of the situation or if you’re genuinely this lost. It’s likely the latter. After all, you accepted his invitation to mate without even knowing it.

“It’s a special occasion, yes. Many mers have new partners every summer. Sometimes they remain and other times the tide carries them along, bringing in new opportunities with every changing season.”

“And finding the one who sticks is the goal?”

“For some of us.”

“So what about you?” You narrow your eyes at him, suspicious. “You’re speaking for everyone but yourself, Jade.”

Jade flushes. Your perceptive words are pointed, stabbing through thick skin to reach his heart. It isn’t often someone parts all of his curtains to peer at the truth.

“I would like that,” he admits, soft and sweet, almost demure. “Someone who sticks, as you’ve put it.”

You watch his face carefully, but there’s no lie to find. With his pinched brow and shimmering coloration, so much so it’s as if he’s been set aflame, you steel your nerves. He brightens the dark pool with his light, a beacon on still waters. Jade looks right back. The eye contact is heady—more hypnotic than a swaying pendulum. He waits for you to make the first move, as is customary in his courtship, but when you don’t react he begins to suspect it’s the opposite for yours.

But then you find your voice. So words are valued in human courtship. I see…

“If I help with this… W-What exactly happens? What does it mean?”

Jade knows his pearl isn’t stupid, but sometimes he really has to wonder.

“It means—” he takes the hand that had been previously protecting your nudity and pulls it away, fingers intertwining— “we would copulate like every animal does.”

“I… I’m not sure.”

“I’ll be very gentle.”

“Still…”

“You have my word.”

“I know. I understand. But—”

“It’s my first time as well.”

You stare at him, astounded by the revelation. “Really?”

“Indeed. So I ask that you forgive my boorish insistence. I’m usually very prepared for my season, so it’s a shock it’s come so early.”

“Yeah, that’s weird. I wonder if it’s because you’re a human. Maybe something with your transformation?” Your breath catches in your throat when he presses two slender fingers against your clit. “H-Hold on… If you touch there—”

Jade’s mismatched eyes sparkle when he looks at you, wet with tears. “Please,” he murmurs, resting his head back against the water. “Please, (Name)…”

You’ve never known Jade to cry or beg outright, let alone utter that single word in such a submissive tone. He’s so vulnerable, an image curated for this very occasion. Not that this is imperative information you absolutely must know.

With slumped shoulders, you glance elsewhere. “I’m not so sure…”

Jade considers himself fortunate to have his wits about him, otherwise he would have already had you plastered to the pool tiles, his cock thrust up in your tight pussy.

“I understand my size in this form may seem rather intimidating, but I’m still myself.”

“I know. But…”

“You can lead. I’ll follow. Almost like a dance.” Taking hold of your hips, he rocks you back and forth as if you’re a doll. Your cunt brushes against his slit and, though it isn’t nearly as euphoric as the actual ordeal, it still sends a wave of carnal relief washing over him. He hums pleasantly, gills fluttering. “Mhm… Like so. It’s simple, isn’t it? Nothing to fear.”

You place your palms against his chest to brace yourself. A reedy breath shakes through you. Jade can see the gears turning. And—oh—how he wishes to be able to poke around your head to understand what it is you’re working through. He’s certain he’d be walking on air if he could hear your innermost monologues: To love or not to love Jade Leech… Or, at present, this would be a better and very humorous phrasing of your secret dialogue: To fuck or not to fuck Jade Leech… 

Even if you don’t love him now, you will later. Just as all life in his terrariums inevitably blooms, so, too, will your affection for him. Patient and persistent care will get him far. He’s sure of that.

You shiver above him, face scrunched and bottom lip bitten to muffle your musical moans. He doesn’t bother hiding his very obvious enjoyment as he guides you along until, eventually, your hips move on their own accord. You grind down against his slit, panting wetly, and he watches your lashes flutter, beautiful like butterfly wings. He admires the divine softness of your nudity, picturesque like that of the Renaissance.

No matter how delicious you are on the eyes, how electrifying it is to have your body pressed to his, it’s still not enough. Jade has half a mind not to buck up to meet your dripping pussy halfway, even if his every sense is telling him he should. Too much force and he’d throw you off into the pool; there’s no telling what he’d do if you were in the water, fully at his mercy. So he allows you to have your fun, deems it polite that you find your end first before he follows. He has to remind himself that you’re not a mer and, thus, you won’t find it very appealing if he succumbs to animalistic urges.

Humans like gentle creatures. Jade is not a gentle creature by nature, but he enjoys masquerading as one.

If it were up to Jade, he would have just taken you for himself ages ago. The minute you looked him in the eyes, he would have grabbed your face in both hands and yanked you up to smash his mouth to yours. And then you’d know there’s more beyond that curtain of placidity.

But that’s not the approach he wants to take.

What he really wants, right now and in this moment, more than anything, is to be inside you, pump you so full of himself that you’ll feel bloated like a whale carcass. Sink his teeth in your throat and taste the blood puddling beneath. Chew you out like you’re nothing more than a squeak toy and he’s your wildly disobedient dog. Dig his claws into your thighs until red ribbons slide down broken skin and cloud the water.

Your yelp brings him back to the present. For a strained second, he thinks he’s hurt you—gone too far and chased you away before the game could even begin. But the source of your startled reaction is easy to pinpoint, for it’s currently prodding at your folds.

“W-What’s that?” you ask around another gasp.

More of Jade’s prehensile cock wriggles free from the safety of his slit. He squeezes his eyes shut to collect himself, hissing through his teeth.

“Most mers are equipped with—mmh—with both sets of…anatomy…” His mind is whirling. He can’t finish that thought. Does it even matter? You’ll understand without the explanation. “It won’t hurt… You can touch it.”

You shake your head and—sevens, you’re lucky he loves you so much or else he wouldn’t have the foresight to be mindful of your inability to breathe underwater. What he’d give to take you below the surface and ignore the world passing above—to spend what little eternity he has rutting into you, tails twining, mouths meeting…

“I shouldn’t… T-That’s your…thing.”

He wasn’t sure you could get cuter, but you do. Surprises are endless with you. He could never tire of this.

“Of course it is. How else am I to copulate without it?” he replies smartly. “It’s called breeding season for a reason, my dear.”

You lift your hips slightly to avoid the tip searching for a home within your gummy depths. Panic paints itself on your face. “W-Wait! You can’t—”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself moments ago. I promise you this will feel even better once it’s inside.”

“That was before I—b-before you…” You swallow thickly, stumbling over your tongue. “There’s no way I can—it looks…too big.”

“Any size is going to seem so if you’ve never taken it before.”

Jade presses two fingers inside your pussy and spreads it. Slick strings from the opening, coating his digits in your arousal. You stiffen and hide behind your hands.

Aah, if only I could devour you right here and now… You’re just too adorable. Are you doing this on purpose?

“You needn’t fret. If my fingers slide in like so, then I’m certain it will be the same for my—”

“I don’t know how mers do it, but if it’s anything like humans…” You shake your head again, adamant. “I don’t wanna get pregnant.”

That’s unavoidable, he wants to say, but that would serve to scare you away.

“We’re incompatible.” Even I’m not certain of that, but it must be false if the mermaid princess could start a family with her human. “Therefore, the risk is nonexistent.”

“Are you sure?”

Not in the slightest.

“Quite.”

Apprehensive, you still refuse to lower yourself onto him. He’s aching, desperate and near-deranged from waiting, and if he were still in his human form he’d be sweating out of his skin. Jade grabs your hips again and, somewhat forcefully, brings you down to meet his tip.

“Please,” he stresses, putting on his best, most convincing pout. “Please, (Name), won’t you help me? I fear I can’t endure any more of this torture.”

You open your mouth, but a trembling breath slips out in place of a protest. Jade’s cock presses against your pussy, gradually delving inside. You almost flop on top of him, the air knocked out of your lungs as he spears you open. Jade grits his teeth. His claws rake across your sides. He has to remain calm, but how can he do that when he’s finally inside you after months of fantasizing? He knows now that his hand could never act as a substitute for the real thing.

To think he was missing something as grand as this all along! No amount of warmth could ever compare to you. You’re an angel who’s just taken him to Heaven.

You gasp again when he slams you down without warning. “Ooh…”

He heaves a shaky, satisfied sigh. Tears dot his lash line. He’s never known relief so strong. It wraps tightly around his cock, squeezing like a vise. If not your mind, your body definitely agrees to this connection. You’ve taken him so well. Surely you wanted this all along. It was just convoluted courtship, a messy tangle of misunderstanding. You want him to knock you up—to stuff you over and over until you can’t fit anything else.

Oh, if only he had eggs. If only he could give you a clutch.

Next time, he thinks, and he means it.

“See?” he says, finding his voice. It comes out breathless, like he’s just been squeezed dry. Not yet. Soon, though. He’s sensitive, and it betrays whatever image he hoped to curate by seeming unbothered. You’re supposed to fall apart first, yet here he is on the verge of coming undone. “You’ve fit every inch. I surmise you could fit even more.”

“I don’t want to!” You lift your body, but it’s a silly endeavor. His cock twitches and curves up against your walls. You and Jade groan in unison, your eyes squeezed shut. “We should’ve just gone to—haa—Professor Crewel and let him handle this…”

“Magical intervention would only pause the inevitable. These cycles are easier to manage as they happen. And this—” he helps you grind down against him, to which you do with startling obedience (but then perhaps he’s just strong enough to manhandle and pretend it’s compliance)— “is the best medicine.”

His webbed hand closes around one of your breasts. It’s soft and springy in his grasp. He pinches your nipple experimentally, and you clench around him.

“Ah, do you like being touched here?”

“Mmh—no… Not there. Don’t—ooh!”

“Or perhaps here?” he asks, circling your clit.

“Stop—you can’t…”

“But I already am.”

You muster the energy to glare halfheartedly, but it soon unravels when he drags you up and down once more. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, every lewd, wet slap an addition to your cries. Jade wonders if this is what true inner peace is, for he’s never been more elated. So utterly, indescribably relieved.

You’re just what he needs to weather this cruel winter.

Jade’s mind, once so organized, is a chaotic scramble. You’ve always occupied a majority of his thoughts, but now you’re made front and center. Everything revolves around you at this moment. He even tries to sync his breathing with yours, if only to feel closer to you. As if this bodily connection isn’t already close enough.

You happen to glance at him then. There’s a glaze to your gaze that wasn’t there before. He admires the way it makes you look—the softness in your eyes and the subtle part of your lips. You appear so blissful while you rock yourself on his cock, dragging your hips in jerky motions. He doesn’t think twice about the sloppy nature of your union, for he moves with a singular goal in mind.

He reaches without meaning to, searching for your heartbeat so that it can align with his, and you squeak in surprise when you’re pulled against his chest. Jade’s reminded you’re not a mer when he tries to wrap his tail around your nonexistent one, feeling legs kick out instead. Just like that, ripples run across tranquil waters as you’re flipped over.

Ah. I was too hasty.

You break the surface, coughing and spluttering. He mourns the disconnect immediately, yearning for your warmth again. When he comes up to join you, he’s met with a splash.

“A-At least warn me before you do that!” You mumble the rest of your disappointment, but Jade’s keen ears pick it up anyway. “I didn’t even get to finish…”

Jade chuckles and wipes water from his eyes. His face is bright, burning with joy. “My apologies. I may have gotten carried away.”

“Obviously.” You huff. “Now can you bring me to the edge?”

He winds around you. “It would be my pleasure.”

You’re pressed against the pool wall, legs spread and wrapped around his waist. He braces himself on either side of you, his fingers curling around the ledge. With how strong his grip is, it’s a shock the tiles haven’t cracked under the pressure. You avoid his stare while he pushes in. He listens to your breath stutter, and that’s all it takes to shatter his self-control. He draws away, savors the confusion polluting the air, and then snaps his hips forward to fill you with every inch of his strange, inhuman cock. A strangled moan rips from your throat and you throw your head back, deflating flatly against the floor.

Jade’s brows knit together. He bows his head, gasping into your neck. His teeth are centimeters from unmarked flesh. He wants to bite you, but the sensation of your velvety walls wrapped around his cock is so distracting. He thinks he might faint. It feels too good. So warm. So wet. So tight. Is this really what humans feel like on the inside? Are they always so soft? He feels boneless as he rolls his hips, numb and dumb, mindless like an animal.

That’s really all he’s ever been: an animal enthralled, his sights forever locked on you. He’d do anything to get you to look at him.

Your arms snake around him, and you cling so sweetly, your nails scraping at his back, that he almost cums right then. Your voice is in his ears, wanton and whispery.

“J-Jade… Aah, Jade…” You hold firmly, unyielding, and chant his name like it’s something holy. “Oh, please, Jade!”

You were so averse before. Now look at you. You’re so cute. The cutest, in fact. I want to make you mine and lock you away forever. Your voice, your body, your smile, your everything… It would be mine to admire. A fascination reserved specially for me.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” he asks, tracing your cheek with a claw.

A fond smile graces his face. You blink up at him. Tears track down your cheeks, but he knows they aren’t woeful. You’re enjoying this just as much as he is. You want him. You like him. You have no choice.

“Feels full…”

“Does it?”

“Mhm.”

That angelic smile fades into something wicked and proud. Full. You’re full. Full of him and, very soon, full of as many loads as he cares to give.

His hand dips between your bodies to nudge at your clit. You choke around a bawdy moan. If he fools himself, he imagines your parted lips are mirroring the same invitation he voiced to you earlier. Maybe it really is. Maybe you’ve finally understood this facet of his language. 

Hypnotized, Jade watches your lips. He doesn’t even register he’s leaning in. You struggle somewhat, but he just kisses you harshly. His tongue slithers past your lips to explore the insides of your mouth, prodding at the back of your throat until you’re digging your nails into his shoulders.

I love you. I love you. I love you and need you and want you. You’re all mine. Finally mine.

Saliva dribbles from your lips when he pulls back. His eyes are blown wide.

All mine.

When he leans in for another kiss, this one more dizzying than the last, he presses his hips to yours, aiming to get as close to your womb as possible. He needs to. Needs to be deeply acquainted with your insides. Needs to flood your empty womb with enough cum to guarantee pregnancy. Needs to knock you up and watch you swell with his child so that you’ll be even softer than you are now. Oh, the beauty of it all is too tantalizing! You’d look so cute, maternity wear stretched taut around your gravid belly. And your tits would grow fat and heavy with milk. He can already picture it: You’d fluster when you leak through your shirt, even more so when he takes your teat in his mouth and drinks his fill. He wonders if you’d call him gross, a pervert, a freak… Would you do so if he asked?

Would you hate him if you knew all of the depraved fantasies that flit around in his head?

Maybe. The lack of linear clarity excites him. Endless possibilities. He wants to know all of them.

He wants to—

With a wheeze, he cums quick and hard, lashes fluttering and vision whiting out. Your body flinches beneath him, caught in the throes of pleasure as you, too, ride out an orgasmic wave.

He comes to moments later, his heart racing, and rests his forehead against yours.

“That’s…it, right?” you mumble, running your fingers through matted hair. “It’s over, isn’t it?”

Jade tries a shy smile. “On the contrary, we’re only just beginning. A mer’s season isn’t over until they’ve emptied everything, heart and soul, into their mate.”

Can he really call his dick his heart and soul? Maybe. It sickens him with a wild delight.

No matter how many rounds, he’s going to love you until you’re thoroughly worn out.

You don’t have a choice.

But then you already love him, don’t you?

You will by the end of this.

And suddenly he doesn’t feel so bad anymore. Suddenly, he’s no longer embroiled in the sticky shackles of winter woes.

[bodhrancomedy]

Guess who's on TV!

(Well, iPlayer until the 15th, that's when it airs on BBC One)

Hope Street episode 3.11, let's go!

First of all, I'd say they did me dirty with this picture, but my university ID was exponentially worse.

Onto the spoilers!

Our boy Matthew has arrived in Port Devine, looking a little concerned.

For good reason when he's suddenly confronted by this lad, Dara.

Ah, a fight which Matthew escapes by slipping out of his coat. (Pretty sure this is the take where we ripped it practically in two...)

Dara's questioned, he claims he's never met Matthew in his life. Hmm.

Police do some investigating (and some character stuff) before Dara makes his way to Matthew's mother (Louise)'s house to have a wee showdown.

They both in a gang and Matthew's stolen a gun. Dara needs to get it back...

Matthew's nay having it. "This is my way out. If they want the gun back, they have to let me go."

Another fight. The gun goes off! (Poor Pete and I were convinced after take one to put some padding on. My arm looks bulky because I'm strapped up with squishy stuff and allergic to plasters so it has to be in a sock)

Thank fuck no one was hurt. Dara gets the hell out of dodge -

Leaving Matthew to contemplate his mortality. And other people's, but mostly his own.

"Oh fuck, my bosses are gonna find me and murder me, oh shit. I'm far too young and pretty to die!"

Time for Matthew and Louise to follow Dara's example and get the fuck out of here.

The police are now on the Halbridges' trail, but they discover the phone tracking them and leave it in a field.

Meanwhile, Dara's been arrested for drug dealing. He refuses to talk, clearly nervous.

Ah, what's this on Dara's phone? So Matthew and Dara have been in a relationship for over a year now.

(The poor intimacy coordinator having to walk me through my just about second kiss in my entire life. And the third. And the fourth. And the fifth... Pete is a very sweet person. Made it all funny.) ("Relax your hand, Bodh. Just relax it. Open - open your fingers, just let me position your hand.")

They're both working for the same gang. Matthew was given the gun to hold onto by their bosses' and freaked out, running away with the weapon. His plan was to trade his freedom for the gun, but Dara was sent to get it back for the Brazier Brothers, notorious drug runners and gang leaders.

These guys.

Unfortunately, now Dara's had to tell the Brazier Brothers that Matthew is refusing. They're going to kill Matthew and then Dara. Oh no.

But Dara has an idea where they might be hiding.

At the caravan there's a standoff between the police and Halbridges. But when the Braizer Brothers are arrested, they're convinced to come out.

(Side note, my favourite picture of me, ever.)

Oh no, the Halbridges are going to jail and Matthew's regretting his life choices.

Matthew walked off to his new life inside a jail cell.

The end.

(This is where Niall Wright accidently sublexed my shoulder. To be fair to the man, I'd never mentioned it and he took his finger sliding in-between bone like a champ)

Look, it's me!! I was on TV! Bit sad they cut pretty much all the uses of SSE (weren't allowed BSL because we still had to speak the lines), but I got to be queer and Deaf so that's pretty nice.

[lanabuckybarnes]

Winter’s Girl

18+ Minors DNI

(I do not own any photos, credits to original owners)

Could you imagine being a scientist on the winter soldier program, your task is to make sure he’s at 100% before every mission. This time though, when you enter his holding cell he’s nowhere to be found.

Note: I HIT 300 FOLLOWERS; thank you guys so much I love you all xxxx

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader

Warnings: Translated Russian because I’m stupid and know one language, Jealous Soldat, use of the word Puppy/Pup as a petname, a lil Biting, Hair pulling, Spanking, Spitting, The Winter Soldier (he’s a warning), Creampie, He’s a little sweet at the end but there isn’t much aftercare— as always if I’ve missed anymore let me know!

Word Count: 1.2k (of porn with no plot)

You gaze flicks around the room, a little panic stricken but who wouldn’t be when a 6ft something assassin had seemingly disappeared from his cell.

The fear bubbling in your belly only triples when you face the long broken mirror that sat just above the sink, behind you his cerulean gaze was undeniable. His hands reach out, the cool metal one wrapping itself around the bottom of your face, muffling any protests, while the other gripped your hip with bruising fingers and pushed you forward till your pubis and upper thighs knocked against the sink.

Your hands fall on instinct to the cold metal as your fingers grip at the surface, when you flick your gaze up to the mirror you can see that what swims in his own orbs isn’t anger or the usual killer instinct, no— the Winter soldier looks at you with lust.

“красотка” (pretty) He whispers hoarsely against your neck, hot pants of air from his mouth coating your throat like paint. His teeth nip right at your pulse point before his warm tongue smooths over the mark.

When you jerk, his grip tightens, “don’t move” He stares at you pointedly through the mirror before both his hands retreat from your frame.

You vaguely register the soft sound of fabric hitting the cold floor before he swipes your own clothes from your body, the harsh air was harsh; it almost felt like dipping your body into a bath filled with ice.

He groans, loud and throaty as his eyes bore into your ass and panties. Despite the cool atmosphere of the cell you feel everywhere burning with a primal want. You wanted this, you had since the first time you worked with the Soldier. He smelled the way you slicked up at the sight of him in nothing but his briefs, blood dripping from his nose, a musky scent radiating from him that had you desperately soaked. He wanted this too, he needed the release and the best kind of toy was one that was willing.

You felt his fat tip press against your hole, pushing in and out softly over the thin lace before it slipped to stimulate your hard little nub. The strong grip on your hip was back, anchoring your feet in their exact spot.

“You need this?” He kissed sloppily up your spine, It sounded more like a statement than a question but you nodded all the same.

He worked quick after your confirmation. Your panties were pulled to the floor by their soaked gusset and two of his chubby metal fingers speared you, pulling a delightful sounded moan that the Soldier was desperate to hear more of.

They worked methodically, pushing in and curling out, your legs shook at every time the cool pads bumped over each pleasure filled rib.

Once he deemed you ready enough, his fingers slipped from your tight hole to jerk at his thick length, coating himself in your essence. He so desperately wanted to taste you but his cock was crying out for attention, he’d get his fill next time.

“F-fuck” you moaned loudly as he pushed in, all semblance of decency thrown out the window at the feeling of his fat cock stretching you, there was a burn from ill prep but with the size of him you weren’t sure there would be a way to prep. You were thankful that he let up for just a bit so your insides could mould to accommodate him.

When he started thrusting his pace was brutal, his meaty thighs slapping against your own, the sound mixing with the squelching push and pull of his cock along your fluttering folds. You’d thank his super soldier serum later for his constant pounding pace but right now you could think of nothing but him.

“Bucky!” you squealed as his cool digits flicked meticulously across your sensitive clit, your fingernails scraped mindlessly at the shiny plates of his forearm. He growled possessively at the slip of the name, his right hand fisting clumps of your hair to angle your head up to watch you both in the mirror.

“Does Bucky fuck you like this? Mm?” Jealousy dripped from his words as his metal hand smacked your rear hard before gripping the reddened flesh to cool the area.

You couldn’t think, you watched as your thighs jumped at each pound of his hips, the way your mouth had sat slack ever since he shoved his length into you, drool poured from your lips but you didn’t care— you couldn’t care— not with how cock drunk you were.

He smacked your ass again, this time when he gripped the flesh he pulled your cheek to the side, parting your ass before launching a fat glob of spit that ran from your tight little asshole to the spot where you two joined.

“I asked you a fucking question!” He pushed forward, teeth finding the lobe of your ear and biting down, the action pulling a squeaked moan from your swollen mouth.

“No-no he can’t, he can’t… please Soldier I’m so close” You wailed, one of your own hands travelling down to play with your neglected clit. The soft touch of your fingers had you jerking back to meet him.

“Mmm, Отчаянный щенок (desperate puppy)… you cum when I say you can” he was panting now, hips hammering into you at a slightly sloppier pace; It wouldn’t be long until he found his own release as well.

He moaned loudly, he had no control over his own body now, driven only by decades of primal unsatisfied lust. He thrust harder if it were possible, his wild blue eyes glaring at your fucked out face through the cracks in the mirror.

“You ready pup?” he asked between loud groans.

“Mmm, so ready солдат (soldier)” you slurred, your head hung loosely between your shoulders when his hand slipped down your spine, you’d lost all energy to hold it up ages ago— you’d been relying solely on the tight grip he had on your hair.

“Augh, shit” he growled almost animalistic through clenched teeth, his damp forehead settling on the silky skin stretched over your shoulder blades. He thrust deeply one last time.

“Cum angel…cum…cum on me” the words fell from his mouth along with slurs of broken Russian as he painted your walls white, his cock twitched against your vice grip as you silently screamed at your own release.

You hadn’t the faintest clue how long you two basked in the after glow of whatever you had just done, your mind only coming back to you when you felt his softening length pull from your aching heat. The feeling of your mixed juices slipping from your hole had you almost coming for a second time, especially when you felt his cold fingers drag up the mess it made in your thigh before he pushed it back into your core.

His arms lifted you up with him as he backed up until he sat on a rickety cot in the corner of the room. You had no idea if it would hold both your weights but it was the last thought to cross your mind when his thick arms wrapped around your waist, his flesh fingers rubbing soothing circles over your hip bone. He kissed you, tenderly, before flopping his head onto the almost flat pillow.

You were almost asleep when you heard the deep rumble of his voice behind you. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

-

I have an insatiable appetite for jealous Bucky.

I also desperately needed to write something for the world’s favourite Soldat because I would not sleep peacefully tonight thinking of this and not sharing.

Hope you enjoyed x