#Spring core crafting | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mangostarjam · 1 year ago

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knot happening (part two) — bnha, alpha!bakugou katsuki x f!reader, aged up characters, established relationship, a/b/o dynamics, use of "baby", "pipsqueak", "brat", "little shit" as pet names, dubious HR ethics, questionable sex toys, reader wears a skirt at the end, smut, creampies, oral sex, knotting, omegaverse!au for the spring fever collab run by @lorelune ! 10k words lmao

part one

your new company has some interesting policies for employee heat cycles, but your boyfriend and mate has no intention of letting you off easy

It starts with cravings.

All of Bakugou Katsuki's well intentioned efforts to keep you from dying of malnutrition or scurvy fly out the window as you enter your pre-heat. Your Pro Hero boyfriend and mate turns his nose up at the strawberry pocky you crunch on the couch, rolls his eyes at the cherry and dark chocolate chip ice cream you scoop after dinner, and pouts at the mango and sticky rice cups you devour after work.

"It all has fruit in it," you point out. "And besides, you always steal half my daifuku mochi before I can finish it. Complain about that, you thief!"

Katsuki, to his credit, retaliates by making your favorite veggie-laden meals for the cute bentos he puts together for your lunches. You pop open the container and you're greeted by stupidly cute penguins crafted from seaweed and rice, mushrooms and bell peppers nestled next to perfect rolled egg omelettes, carrots cut into little stars and cucumbers that look like clouds.

You take a photo of your lunch and send it to your boyfriend. He texts back "?????" and you frown at your phone.

Katsuki calls a moment later. "Don't tell me you're suddenly allergic to cucumbers."

His voice is rough and low — he must be in the office, if the distant chatter of his fellow heroes is anything to go by — but he's probably turned off into a side hallway because Eijiro's teasing has lately turned into casual remarks about marriage, and… yeah, of course Katsuki's gonna marry you, but he doesn't need his best friend to bring it up every time he's on the phone with you.

"I might be allergic to how cute these are," you say, but there's laughter in your voice and he scrunches his nose, so pleased he can feel the tips of his ears heat up. "How am I supposed to eat this?! This poor rice penguin has never done anything wrong in its life!"

Katsuki snorts quietly into his gloved hand. "D'you want me to make your food look ugly next time?"

You beam down at your bento and kick your feet beneath your desk. "Thanks for making me lunch, loverboy."

"Can't have you dyin' while I'm fuckin' you dumb," Katsuki's already low voice gets lower. The rough timbre of it so intimately in your ear sends a thread of desire straight to your core and you shift uncomfortably, glancing around your office. Luckily, it's empty — everyone's out for lunch because it's such a beautiful spring day, but you forgot to take your allergy medicine and you don't want to tempt disaster. "Leaving you in bed this morning was a crime."

"H-huh?" you set your feet on the ground and sit up a little straighter. "Babe, shut up. What if someone overhears you!"

"Then they'd be too damn close to you and I'll need to punch their lights out," Katsuki states matter of factly.

"So protective," you tease, settling back into your seat. He's trying to rile you up — he knows what his low tone does to you — but you're going to make it through your pre-heat without alerting your company even if it kills you. "I'll see you later, 'kay? Kick some ass, baby."

Your boyfriend mumbles something that sounds suspiciously cheesy before he hangs up, and you eat your lunch with gusto. It's day two of your pre-heat and so far it seems like nobody can tell. Your cravings are easy to pass off as a strong sweet tooth, and Katsuki's patrol schedule has kept him away from picking you up after work. You slapped a pheromone suppressor on your neck this morning and then styled up your business casual outfit with a loose silk scarf, so it should be… fine.

Your phone vibrates with a text and you swipe it open without thinking. The sound that leaves your mouth at the sight that greets you is unholy and you slam your phone facedown on your desk.

What the fuck.

"…You alright there, newbie?" Akane from Sales pauses in the act of draping her jacket over her chair. "Did you get a spam call?"

"Just peachy!" you croak out. You clear your throat as more of your coworkers file back in from their lunch break. "I thought I saw a bug, that's all!"

More like a closeup photo of your boyfriend's bulge in his hero suit, clearly stiff and straining hard against the heat resistant fabric, his easily recognizable gloved hand dangerously close to palming the thick outline —

Akane makes a funny face. "And you smashed it with your phone?"

"It was just instinct," you say sheepishly, "I'm fine with bugs where they belong, and they don't belong on my desk!"

Akane and your other coworkers nod at this and the conversation shifts, so you take advantage of everyone's inattention to pick your phone back up. You do it gingerly, as if there really is a bug squished underneath, but really you're just trying not to accidentally flash Pro Hero Dynamight's crotch shot to the world.

You can see the headlines now:

"Pro Hero Dynamight Ready to Blow!"

"Dynamight Explodes Up to the Top Ten Sexiest Pro Heroes with Infamous Shot!"

"Is the Great Explosion Murder God Packing the Heat?"

Katsuki's PR team would kill you. You quickly slide your phone beneath your desk and swipe away from your texts, breathing a sigh of relief when the (annoyingly tasteful) shot disappears from your screen.

Your phone vibrates with texts the rest of the day. No more photos (you can't tell if you should be grateful or mournful about this) but judging from the text previews you hastily swipe away on your screen, Katsuki's clearly out to get you. He seemed normal this morning — his lips brushed your cheek gently as you drew the blankets up to your chin — so what is his problem?

You finally get a chance to read his texts while waiting for your train at the station. Your eyes widen as you scroll through the messages — they're filled with his typical profanity, but he's practically written an instruction manual on all the ways he's imagined fucking you today. Your hand rises unwittingly to your pheromone suppressor patch. Maybe you should wear it at night, too, so he won't get so worked up? Though you kind of doubt it's working at all, since reading his texts is making you shift where you stand, heat pooling in your core.

The station is crowded with evening commuters — packs of students giggling and chattering among themselves, other tired office workers tapping away at their phones, little kids holding hands so they won't get separated — and nobody is paying you any mind. Maybe your suppressors are working after all? Wait — are they supposed to keep your pre-heat pheromones from leaking out or in?

Your ears perk as the pleasant tone signaling the arrival of your train jingles through the crowd. It's a quick ride three stops down to your apartment, which is one stop away from Katsuki's agency Ground Zero. When the two of you were looking for a place together, Katsuki insisted that it be just outside of his patrol range — close enough for him to get there quickly, but far enough that he would be able to actually relax at home. You can hear the familiar sound of a knife meeting a cutting board while you toe off your shoes in the genkan, lifting your nose to the air as the comforting smell of rice cooking wafts towards you.

"I'm home!" you call out, bypassing the kitchen to strip out of your work clothes. You sigh with relief as you toss your pants into the laundry basket, dragging one of Katsuki's well-worn hoodies over your head and tugging a pair of his workout shorts up your hips. They smell like him — smoky and rich and a little bit sweet — and you burrow into the comfort with a hum of pleasure.

The sizzle and crack of veggies and rice hitting the pan fill the air as you make your way into the kitchen. You follow your nose and ears happily, mouth already watering at the thought of eating more of Katsuki's cooking, but you stop dead at the entrance and make a funny strangled sound.

Asshole. Is he doing this on purpose? He's totally doing this on purpose.

"Welcome home," Katsuki says, rising from a crouch to his full, intimidating height and giving the pan another flick of his wrist. Sometimes you forget how broad your Pro Hero boyfriend is, but it's abundantly clear when he's standing in front of the stove shirtless like some kind of wet dream. He barely gives you a once over, just a casual glance of red that sends heat rushing to your cheeks before he turns his attention back to the stove.

You know — and you know he knows — that certain instincts flare up with your pre-heat. Everyone has different symptoms. The food cravings are one thing, for you, but they're manageable and easy to pass off as unrelated. Wanting to be covered in your mate's scent is another thing entirely, and while it's a relatively common symptom, it never fails to embarrass you, especially because you know how much Katsuki secretly likes it.

"What're you making?" you ask. Katsuki keeps his eyes on his pan, so you take the opportunity to ogle him freely, admiring the strong set of his shoulders and the firm lines of back muscle on full display. Stupid Katsuki with his stupid workouts making him look like a goddamn god. From your position at the kitchen entrance, you're close enough to see the pale scars crisscrossing his skin and the way the edge of his lips lift in a smug, self-satisfied smirk as he catches you checking him out. He's easily the hottest man you've ever seen in your life.

"Chicken fried rice," he says, snapping you out of your blatant stare. "It's almost done."

"You're telling me a chicken fried this rice?" you joke, grinning widely when Katsuki snorts and rolls his eyes at you. "Here, lemme set the table."

The two of you prepare for dinner companionably, though Katsuki definitely hovers more than usual. You can't help but lean back into his firm (and very naked) chest as he stands behind you while you reach up for plates, his hands heavy on your hips to help you balance. He also sets your plate piled high with fried rice next to his own at the table instead of across as usual, and when you make a questioning sound he just arches a brow expectantly.

"What? Sit and eat your fucking vegetables, pipsqueak."

"That's not my question," you giggle, accepting the seat he holds out for you. He spins it sideways easily, so that you're suddenly facing his own chair instead of the table, a casual show of strength that sends a shiver up your spine. Then he sits next to you with a grunt and immediately grabs your bare legs to drape them over his lap, forcing you to cling to his arm in surprise. "What the hell!"

"Shaddup," Katsuki mumbles, keeping a firm grip on your bare legs. "You can eat like this, right?"

You can, though you have to wiggle a bit and hold your plate in your lap. The changed angle gives you a perfect view of your boyfriend's profile, and you look at him for a moment, admiring the cut of his jawline and the slope of his nose.

"Quit starin'," he says. The pale scar along his cheek lifts when he shoots you a smug grin. "Your food's gonna get cold."

"You're the one who made me sit like this," you point out. You scratch at the side of your neck absently, but your nail catches on the suppressant patch and you pause. "Do you know if these patches are to keep the pheromones in or out?"

Katsuki takes a big bite of his fried rice and chews carefully. "Nothing's gonna stop your pre-heat from affectin' you," he says evenly. "And normally it'd keep 'em from leakin' out, but," he takes a deep breath and finally meets your eyes, "I'm your mate, so that shit doesn't work on me."

"Oh." Your voice is small even to your own ears. Katsuki's red hot gaze stays fixed on you for another long, torturous moment before he drags his attention to his food. "Is that why… you sent me a dick pic?"

Katsuki chokes on the spoonful of fried rice he just brought to his lips and his hand comes up to slap against the table. You crack a grin and pick up your own spoon. "That wasn't — wasn't a fuckin' dick pic, you perv."

"Sure looked like it to me," you say cheerfully. The fried rice is delicious and you nearly moan with satisfaction, wiggling in your seat as the flavors burst along your tongue. "It was a photo featuring the area of your body where your dick is at, so obviously, it was a dick pic!"

"Fuck off," he mumbles, shoving another spoonful into his mouth. "How was work? Anybody notice?"

"It was great," you say, "and nah, I don't think anyone noticed. I wore a scarf to hide the patch, y'know. Pretty good, huh?"

"You're a smart one," Katsuki says, and you preen under the praise. "You gonna wear a scarf the rest of the week, then?"

You shrug and wiggle your legs a little just to get Katsuki to clamp down on them with one strong arm. You flex your feet, feeling his thighs tense in turn, and eat another spoonful of dinner. "I don't think I can. It's supposed to get real hot this week and besides, I wanna… wear one of your shirts."

"Hah?" Katsuki nearly drops his spoon. "How're you gonna do that? It'll be too big for you, pipsqueak."

"I'll figure it out. I've done it before!" Your grin turns mischievous. "Want me to model for you after dinner?"

Katsuki shoots you a look. "You tryna get into my pants already, sweetheart? What happened to resisting pre-heat?"

"It's not like we'll be doing anything," you point out. "I have faith in you, babe."

Your boyfriend doesn't answer, but his hand tightens around your thigh, leaving indents in the soft give of your body. The two of you switch to safer topics, like the old ladies who ran into Katsuki on patrol (again) because they wanted to pass on their grandkids' sketches, and your new friends Akane and Shimizu who complimented your scarf. You do the dishes afterwards, but Katsuki stays glued to your back, thick arms wrapped firmly around your waist.

"I think you've got too much faith in me," Katsuki frowns, holding one of his button ups against your frame a bit later. You shed his hoodie and your shirt and bra, tossing them in the direction of the laundry basket and holding your arms out for him to dress you in his shirt. He eyes your chest openly, sending a spark of heat zipping down your spine, but slides the sleeves over your arms and helps you button it up without saying anything else.

His hands are careful as he slides the buttons home. You force yourself to breathe evenly as he crowds into your space, that smoky sweet scent filling your nose as he presses his lips to your temple and noses at your ear. His big hands with all their callouses and scars are gentle as he smooths the fabric over your shoulders, leaving a wave of warmth as he slides them around to your back to tug you closer into his embrace.

You hug him back, resting your palms against his shoulder blades and pressing into the skin there as he shifts. It's quiet as he breathes you in, his chest rising and falling against your own. Distantly you can hear trains rattling on the tracks, teenagers being rowdy in front of the nearby konbini, babies wailing for bedtime several doors down. You close your eyes and listen to Katsuki's heartbeat instead, though a furrow forms between your eyebrows as his heartbeat quickens.

"Are you… good?" you whisper.

"…'m fine."

"Okay… are you having a heart attack?"

"Don't be stupid," Katsuki snorts. "As if I'd get worked up over a lil' huggin'."

"Sure, sure," you grin up at him, smiling wider as his eyes soften at your expression. "It's not like I'm your mate or anything. It's fine if you get worked up, babe — I think you're pretty hot, too."

"Aren't you supposed to be figurin' out tomorrow's outfit?"

You detach yourself from him reluctantly, though he doesn't let you get very far, latching onto your wrist and padding along behind you as you go to peruse the closet. Katsuki pulls you into his chest again as you eye the various options. Despite favoring athletic, technical clothes — fabrics that are easy to move in at a moment's notice — he does own a wide range of clothing thanks to his various sponsorships.

"Does it ever bother you, wearing clothes with these brands associated with them?" you ask, rubbing a silky suit jacket sleeve and peering up at him.

"Nah," Katsuki shrugs. "My team's halfway decent 'bout choosin' who we partner with, so it's not a big deal."

"Should I be less sensitive about my company's branded sex toys?" Your voice is small. You turn back to the clothes so you don't have to look at him, but Katsuki presses a kiss to the back of your hair and huffs.

"If it bothers you, it bothers you," he says gruffly. "We're good, baby. You don't hafta tell your company squat. I'm still your mate no matter what."

You repeat Katsuki's words to yourself the next day, swathed in his button up shirt tucked into a pair of his trousers with the ankles rolled up, as Akane and Shimizu show you the storeroom where they keep the company branded sex toys. Everyone's email notifications had pinged this morning with the news that Kensuke in Accounting would be entering his heat soon, so your two new coworker besties had dragged you along on a mission to prepare his celebratory heat cycle package.

"Wow," you say blankly, "they really are branded."

Shimizu holds up a cock ring with your company's name emblazoned along the side. "When you're in the moment, you really don't notice the name, but I guess it is a little garish, huh?"

"It's just so… big," you say, pulling over another box. "Is the company worried we'll forget who we work for or something?"

"I think they just want to be supportive," Akane laughs, holding up a dildo that wobbles wildly in her hand. "We'll need to have our drinking party at the end of the week, I think. Kensuke-san said he'll bring his mate if it's late enough for her to make it. I guess her alpha senses get really sensitive when he's this close to heat."

"You'll come, won't you?" Shimizu asks you. She works in HR and it shows as she packs up a care basket with ease. "Most people don't bring their mates unless it's their own pre-heat party, but I'm sure everyone would love to meet yours!"

You wrinkle your nose before you can help it. The idea of alcohol and Katsuki and your coworkers sounds like a bad combination, especially when you're desperately trying to hide your own pre-heat symptoms from the company. "He doesn't really drink…"

"There'll be nonalcoholic drinks served too," Akane says. "My mate gets her panties all in a twist when I come home drunk."

"It's alright if you don't want to," Shimizu assures you. "We'll just meet him when it's time for your own pre-heat party!"

You freeze in the act of pulling out a package of anal beads where each bead seems to have one character of your company's name stamped on it, but luckily neither of them seem to notice. "Can you do me a favor, in the spirit of our new friendship?" you ask, "Could you guys please choose the toys with the least amount of branding?"

Akane and Shimizu laugh. "Aye, aye, boss!"

"We should just start prepping yours now," Akane says breezily. "That way we'll be ready when it hits you!"

"We can even give it to you early," Shimizu adds, "and I'll just mark it off in your file. You've got next week off, so maybe you can put it to good use ahead of time."

She winks and you laugh nervously, but thankfully they don't know you well enough yet to pick up on it. "That would be great, actually," you say, fidgeting with a packet of flavored lube. "I'm sure my boyfriend will love that."

There's a knock at the door as the three of you dig into boxes and sort misplaced toys into their proper shelves. Someone you vaguely recognize from the IT department pokes their head in and immediately zeroes in on you. "Ah, sorry to interrupt," they say sheepishly, glancing at the fuzzy handcuffs Shimizu is brandishing, "but it looks like your mate is here, and he says it's important."

You stare at them. "My… mate…?"

"Uh. Yes," they say, "Mr. Dynamight?"

What?

You wave goodbye to Akane and Shimizu and thank the IT person for the notice before speed-walking towards the entrance lobby of your building. The elevators always take too long, so you head for the stairs, even though it'll take you out towards the back end of the building. There's no reason for Katsuki to show up at your workplace, especially not when he should still be on patrol. He hasn't messaged you much today, either, but that's not unusual. Did something happen? Is he hurt?

Your heart is pounding so loudly in your ears that you nearly miss the gruff "whoa!" as a densely muscled arm suddenly swings out to snag you by the waist. You're lifted straight off your feet and shoved into a supply closet before you even have a chance to open your mouth and scream, but Katsuki is quick to slap a rough hand over your lips.

"Shh, it's just me, shit, sorry," he grunts, wincing as you bite his hand. "Fuck, your teeth are sharp."

"Katsuki!" You have the presence of mind to keep your voice low as you shout. He must have a reason for ambushing you in the back of your company building, so even if you don't know what's going on, you know better than to risk getting caught. "What are you doing here?"

The closet is dark, though light seeps through the bottom of the door he's shoved you against from the hallway he just caught you in. You can barely make out his deep red eyes with the lighting and his gauntlets and gloves resting on the shelf by his shoulder — everything else is cast in shadows. "I needed to see you."

"… huh?"

"I'm not losing, you got that? I'm just makin' up for yesterday."

"What're you talking ab— hey!" You back up into the door with a thunk as Katsuki leans forward, his thick arms caging you in on either side. "Bakugou Katsuki I swear on your All Might trading cards I'll knee you in the balls if you blow my cover here."

He snorts and ducks his head closer. You can feel the soft puffs of his laughter against your neck as you crane your face away, desperate to maintain the upper hand here even though his proximity is triggering something alarming between your thighs.

"Knew you'd look hot as fuck in my clothes," he mumbles, inhaling sharp along the soft skin of your neck. "You smell so fucking good, too."

"I used a strawberry lip balm today," you breathe, careful to stay pressed back against the door. Katsuki is close enough now that you can feel his chest rumble when he laughs.

He presses his lips to the hammering pulse beneath your jaw. "I'm not gonna blow your fuckin' cover," he says lowly. "I'm just gettin' a little taste."

And then he nips at your skin, mere centimeters away from your scent glands — and you moan.

Loudly.

Desperately.

Fuck him. You're sensitive this far into your pre-heat. Desire thrums through you like a plucked string and you lose your tenuous grasp on your self control. All you can think about is Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki as hormones flood your bloodstream and your subdued omega instincts rise to the surface, pheromone suppressor be damned. Your hands are in his hair before you've registered it, yanking him up to kiss you. It's a testament to Katsuki's iron will and his love for you that he lets you drag him into place, though he can't quite kiss you properly because he's smirking too hard. You bite at his lip in retaliation, but that only makes him groan low in his chest and the sound zips straight to your core.

You're so warm. Hot, even, flames of pleasure licking up your spine. You grab onto his shoulders and tremble as he shoves one hard, muscled thigh between your legs, flexing and pressing upwards until your weight rests firmly on top of him. "K-Katsuki…"

"What's the matter, baby?"

"This is so fucking unfair," you whine, tugging at him until he drags you forward by the hips. The friction is delicious and intense, even through your borrowed trousers and the thick fabric of his hero suit, and you can do nothing but hold on for your life as Katsuki guides you into riding his thigh. The easy way his biceps flex and his overwhelming strength turn your mind a little fuzzy. "Why'd you — why're you —"

"Couldn't stop thinkin' about you, brat," Katsuki grunts, pressing his face into the junction between your neck and shoulder. You bare your neck for him instinctively, presenting for him, but he tilts his face up to nip at your ear instead. "Wearin' my clothes and smellin' like me —"

"You're my mate," you gasp out, fisting his hair. "Don't I always smell a little like you?"

Katsuki laughs and stops dragging you along his thigh, shoulders shaking harder when you whimper in protest. You can feel the sharp wave of your impending orgasm recede with every rough chuckle exhaled against your skin. "You want me to keep goin'?"

"You started this, you asshole —"

"Beg for it, then."

Oh. Wait. "Fuck you," you hiss, shoving at him to let you down. He obeys easily, keeping his large hands on your waist to steady you. Desire is still humming hot in your veins, but the cold logic of your brain is working overtime to bring you back down. He's just trying to get you to lose, huh? "Did you come here just to rile me up? What's your problem?"

"Your pre-heat is gettin' to me," Katsuki says, nosing at your temple. Your already flushed body spikes with embarrassment at the tender gesture. "I didn't wanna leave you this mornin', and you were so fuckin' hot yesterday. You sure we can't just kickstart it early?"

"I thought you said you could resist me," you mumble, "what happened to that?"

"I am resistin' you."

You pull away slightly to shoot a pointed look at his body caging you against the door. You get an eyeful of his firm chest and those strong arms you love so much, which doesn't exactly help your predicament, but Katsuki just grins, sharp and beautiful even in the dim light of the closet.

"Baby, if it were up to me, I'd be balls deep in you right now," Katsuki says. Your toes curl in your shoes as you bite back a whine. "But we're tryin' to keep it a secret, yeah?"

This was a mistake. You know — you know your boyfriend has a competitive streak a mile wide, and there's no way he's going to let you walk away from calling him weak for you. Never mind that he's been behaving himself so far — letting you try on his clothes in front of him, sending dirty texts but not acting on any of them — now it seems like he's ready to fight back. Making dinner shirtless last night was definitely a small test for your own self control, but now he's breaking out the big guns by ambushing you at work.

"You're terrible," you breathe, and Katsuki just grins.

"Better get back to work, or your coworkers'll come lookin' for you."

As if your coworkers read his mind, behind you come the distinct sound of clattering footsteps going down the hall. You hear someone beyond the thin barrier of the door you're still pressed against. "Do you think Dynamight will give me his autograph?"

Katsuki meets your glare in the dim light and his grin shifts into a smirk, though his red eyes are unmistakably fond as he regards you. "I'll let you know when the coast is clear."

"You suck. You're evil. They should take away your Pro Hero license."

Your boyfriend laughs quietly and leans forward to brush his lips along your cheek. You tilt your face up into the smoky sweetness of him and manage to kiss the edge of his jaw as he pulls back. He hums with pleasure, but his smirk is still sharp as he eyes you. "Yeah, yeah. You're the one who poked the big bad alpha, you little shit."

Katsuki gets the two of you out of the supply closet and disappears before anyone in your company can corner him for an autograph. You spend a few minutes splashing water on your face in the bathroom, hurriedly trying to cool down as the lingering aftereffects of nearly getting marked race through your bloodstream. Once you deem your reflection (and raging hormones) passable, you head back upstairs and get back to work.

Or at least, you try to get back to work. The stacks of reports are less enticing to you now that you know Katsuki is really trying to get you to beg for him. It all makes sense to you now. The dirty texts and shirtless cooking were testing the waters — his way of seeing how affected you are by him, as if you haven't been mated for years at this point — and now he's ready to leverage your omega biology against you any way that he can. There's no rule saying you can't fuck during your pre-heat, but neither of you have tried thanks to the unspoken agreement that it would make this silly competition less fun.

But you really, really want to fuck him.

"Is everything alright?" Shimizu's voice snaps you out of your vivid fantasies and you blink at your reflection in the dark screen of your monitor. "Your computer's been asleep for ten minutes now. Is your mate okay?"

"O-oh, he's fine," you flush with embarrassment at getting caught slacking. "He just needed to give me something I forgot at home."

"Oh, was that all? That's so nice of him," Shimizu says. "Make sure you ask if he wants to come to the pre-heat drinking party for Kensuke-san."

"Is that really okay?" you ask. "It won't set anything off for Kensuke-san and his mate?"

"Nah. They're bound to be all over each other, anyway. We're all used to it — the drinking party is always more for everyone else to send them off with well wishes," Shimizu explains. "The company picks up the tab, too. It started out as a one-off, and we didn't think the company would keep doing it, but we're all in agreement that if the company is going to pay, then we're going to go out and play."

That… makes sense. Even in a company as supportive as this one, of course it doesn't erase the fact that you're all working under them. "Is that… what happened with the sex toys?"

"Yeah," Shimizu slides into the seat next to yours as she picks up on your interest. "At first, everyone thought it was super cringe and weird, right? Why would we want company branded toys? But it's free stuff, and even if we've got great benefits and paid time off and work isn't unbearable, it's still free stuff. Nobody passes up on the free stuff. We all need to work, so we might as well take advantage of everything the company is willing to give us!"

"And you said you don't really notice the branding…"

"I mean, honestly, you've gone through heats before, haven't you? Are you paying attention to anything besides your mate?"

You snort in agreement. "Back when Katsuki and I were figuring out our mating bond, he triggered my heat on accident and I climbed onto his lap in the middle of an izakaya. He had to help me through it in one of his friends' apartments because it was the closest he could get to a private space nearby."

The two of you ended up buying Denki a whole new mattress and bedding set to replace everything you irreparably messed up that week. His friends were gentle in their good natured ribbing, but you'd unfailingly blush any time you passed by that izakaya, and Katsuki couldn't eat there after patrols anymore without popping a boner.

"That sounds typical," Shimizu says, grinning. "I don't care about mates, myself, but I love hearing about the crazy shenanigans the bond ends up putting you through."

"Is that why there's a company-wide announcement anytime someone is about to enter their heat?" you ask. It's a little risky, bringing it up, but Shimizu is nice and clearly eager to chat on company time. "Most places just mark it as time off."

Shimizu twirls her hair around her finger as she hums in thought. "That started before I joined the company, but I think it's more like… public image? I heard it's the vice president who fully supports heats and likes buying all sorts of new toys for everyone to try out. And if we're celebrating it all so publicly, the president can't protest without looking bad!"

"That's… good," you say. You don't know what else to say to this — but thankfully Shimizu hops out of her seat and waves goodbye cheerily as a chattering group of coworkers enters the room. You try to refocus on your work, but not even a packet of chocolate dipped dried mangoes is enough to help you through more than a few reports.

Hearing about the company policies from a coworker's mouth and seeing everyone chatting excitedly about the end-of-the-week drinking party lifts your spirits. Like you told Katsuki originally, you know you'll get used to the idea of everyone knowing about your upcoming heat. It's just taken some time, and seeing how nobody treats Kensuke from Accounting any differently helps.

Now that you're feeling marginally more comfortable about the whole thing with your company, you feel like you can turn to the real task at hand: teasing your mate and winning this silly game of who can make the other beg for it first.

You skip your stop on the train ride home and hop off at the station closest to Ground Zero. Eijiro was delighted to conspire with you in sending Katsuki back to the agency a little early on his shift and the front desk receptionist lets you into the upper floors with a wide smile. If Katsuki can ambush you at work, it stands to reason that you should return the favor.

You slip into his private office and silently thank Mina for insisting on having strong frosted glass for the windows separating their offices from the cubicles of the sidekicks outside. Katsuki's office is plain overall — there's a large wooden desk with a cushy chair behind it, but otherwise it looks like a normal office space at first glance. As you walk around in it, however, you spot a few All Might collectibles, and there's an omamori hanging off of his desk lamp that you picked up for him at your first shrine visit of the year. He also has a polaroid photo of the two of you — his arm slung around your shoulders as you laughed, his free hand flipping off the camera — washi taped to the bottom of his monitor.

"The fuck're you doin' in here," Katsuki demands, striding into the room and shutting the door behind him with a slam. You jerk up in surprise. He got back a lot sooner than you expected.

"How'd you know I was here?" you ask curiously. Katsuki rolls his eyes as he begins dismantling his hero outfit, the loud clanking and clicking of his gauntlets filling the room as you walk over to help him.

"Smelled you from the station," he says. "As if I'd miss you tryin' to sneak in here."

You grin to yourself, somehow pleased that he sensed you even though he's ruined your chances of surprising him. "I just wanted to help you out," you say, trailing your hands up his arms. Katsuki raises one ash blonde eyebrow, clearly sensing your aim, but he lets you shove his hero mask up into his hair, exposing his forehead.

"Oh yeah?" His gauntlets hit the floor with a thunk and he rips off his gloves, tossing them aside as well. "Help me with what, brat?"

"Just, y'know," you bat your eyelashes up at him just to make him crack a sharp grin, "returning the favor from earlier today."

You kiss him first, a deep, melting kiss that makes your knees go a little weak even though you're the one initiating it. Katsuki's eyes narrow as you sink to your knees, but he doesn't stop you as you palm at his already hard erection through the fabric of his hero suit. "Oi, don't start something if you're not gonna finish it."

"I just want a little taste," you say, grinning as he glares down at you for throwing his words from earlier back at him. You hurry to unbutton and unzip his pants, dragging it down his hips and catching on his thick thighs as his cock springs free. He's leaking at the tip, pearly white and oozing, and he groans when you lick your lips at the sight.

"Fuckin'… don't stare at it."

You tsk. "So impatient." Katsuki threads his fingers through your hair gently as you lean forward to press your tongue against the slit, sliding his cock into your mouth with a wet suck. His hips jerk forward as he grunts, but his hand is endlessly gentle in your hair.

"Motherfu— oh, that's good," he pants, tipping his head back and exposing the strong lines of his throat as he groans. You hollow your cheeks and suck his cock down, settling into a familiar rhythm of bobbing on his dick, sliding your tongue along the underside and teasing at the slit as much as you can. You keep one hand on his thigh for balance and use the other to grab the rest of his length, squeezing in tandem with your bobbing. Wet, slick sounds fill the air as you choke and drool around his cock, and the way he throbs in the heat of your mouth sends a shiver down your spine.

"Sh-shit baby, yeah, just like t-that, fuck," Katsuki moans, his husky voice cracking a little on the words. He tips his head forward to watch the way his cock disappears down your throat, thumbing at your cheek and the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. "You little — you little shit, you're gonna make me fuckin' come —"

You let go of his cock to cup at his balls, hanging heavy at the base of him, fondling them as you suck him deeper into your mouth. The strain on your throat makes you choke around him and he grunts, all of his muscles straining as he struggles not to blow his load. You choke on his cock a few more times, your omega senses singing in your veins with the thrill of pleasuring your mate, but as soon as you feel the telltale signs of his impending orgasm, you pull yourself off of him.

Katsuki nearly knocks you over. "You little — I'm gonna eat you alive you — fuck —"

You suckle at the tip of his cock, smiling up at him as he throbs concerningly in your loose grip. He huffs with the crash of his ruined orgasm and stares down at you in aggravated silence. "You want me to keep going?" you ask innocently, close enough that your lips get smeared with precum and saliva as you talk. Your voice is hoarse. "Just say the magic words, baby."

Your boyfriend seems to realize what you want a few seconds after you speak, as if it takes him a moment for his brain to comprehend full sentences. You peer up at him, blinking slowly, his cock mere centimeters from your lips as his face goes through approximately three different stages of grief.

"You're the worst," Katsuki grumbles, shoving you away and folding himself into a squat. You swipe at your face with the back of your hand, grimacing at the spit as you clean yourself up. He notices, because of course he does, and you watch with interest as Katsuki shoves himself upright to wobble to his desk. He tosses you a few tissues and pulls up his pants and boxers before crouching beside you to help you wipe your face. "The second your heat hits, I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to feel your legs, you brat."

You suppress a shiver at his words and scratch at your suppressant patch, hidden beneath the high collar of your borrowed shirt. "Don't threaten me with a good time."

Katsuki laughs, a short bark that makes you grin. "I hope you're ready, loser," he says, eyeing your lips. "C'mere and give me a kiss."

You wrinkle your nose. "I have dick breath."

"Like I give a shit, pipsqueak." Katsuki nips at your lip as you smile into the kiss, holding onto his shoulders for balance and sneakily smoothing your hands over the dense muscle there. "What're you smilin' about?"

"Just feeling you up."

"Hah?" He's so pretty when he blushes, pink rising high on his cheekbones and staining the tips of his ears red. You nuzzle into his strong neck, inhaling his comforting smoky sweet scent with a sigh of relief. You can feel your omega instincts settling as his scent envelops you properly. Katsuki seems to feel it, too, nudging into your hair and wrapping strong arms around you to keep you close.

After a moment, your legs start to cramp up from the awkward position, so the two of you clamber back up to your feet. Katsuki keeps a firm grip around your arm as you wiggle the feeling back into your toes, and you take advantage of his support to lean heavily against him. "Hey, Katsuki," you say, peering up at him sideways, "when did you steal my fruit themed washi tape?"

"I didn't steal it," he says. You arch an eyebrow. "I just borrowed it." You blink up at him. "Quit fuckin' starin'. It reminds me of you."

Oh. Your heart does a funny little flutter in your chest, which is a little ridiculous considering how long you've been together and the fact that he's literally your mate, but you let the feeling wash over you anyway and beam up at him. "I love you, too."

Katsuki's expression promptly freezes before he rolls his eyes, but his smile is soft. "Let's go already. It's gettin' late."

He holds your hand on the walk to the train station and acts as your wall against the crush of evening commuters. You're clingy — tugging on the sleeve of his hoodie, slipping your fingers through the belt loops of his pants — but Katsuki indulges you, clearly feeling the effects of your pre-heat just as much as you are.

Dinner is a comfortable, teasing affair. You bury your nose into the strong lines of his back as he cooks, pinching the skin of his stomach whenever he makes a snarky remark. He asks about your day and makes you laugh while recounting one of the old ladies on his patrol route who's taken to giving him pointers about how to make cuter bentos.

"You could learn a thing or two from her," you giggle, breathing in deeply.

"Watch it, brat, or I'm puttin' those rice penguins in jail."

The two of you refrain from riling each other up the rest of the night, sinking into the other aspects of your pre-heat instead. He watches with a wrinkled nose as you down a strawberry sando picked up from the konbini after dinner, but he lets you pat your night cream onto his skin and nuzzles your neck while you're tending to your own nightly skincare routine. Katsuki keeps a heavy arm around your shoulders as you tuck yourself into his side, throwing a leg over his thighs as he settles into bed with you.

This is your favorite part of the day — listening to the steady thump of his heart with his scent all around you, teasing him and feeling the low rumble of his voice as he snarks back, running the pads of your fingers over the scars crossing his chest idly and basking in the safety and security of Bakugou Katsuki being in your arms. It's always nice when you can fall asleep with him, when he isn't holed up in his office poring over mission reports or out on the streets taking down villains. You know he'll never say it out loud, but he always kisses you before leaving for patrol in the early mornings, always tucks the blankets back up to your chin to keep out the pre-dawn chill. He has spans of time where he's out more often than not working on taking down big missions, but he always comes back to you.

And with your heat approaching quickly, he starts pawning off his later patrols in order to pick you up from work. This is something like torture for you, personally, because he always smells so fucking good and looks so hot all rumpled and cozy in his post-work clothes. Katsuki makes a funny sound in the back of his throat when you greet him with a hug, slipping his hands a little lower than normal to squeeze your ass and smirking when you squeak and rip yourself away from him.

Luckily he's agreed to meet you a few blocks away from your company building, so you can escape before any of your coworkers notice the two of you. Katsuki gets handsy the closer you get to your heat, but he doesn't push it any further than blatant groping when you pass by him at home, so you retaliate by feeling him up whenever possible. You have no idea if blue balling him at work earlier in the week put the two of you in a stalemate, but you keep your guard up anyway and play by his unspoken rules to keep it to touching only.

It sucks, though.

Every touch makes you shiver; every graze of his lips makes you warm. You can feel the deep, intrinsic ache of your heat simmering just below the surface, the wellspring of desire thrumming through your veins. You're tense — Akane and Shimizu cajole you into fancy beverage breaks because they think you're stressing out too much about work — but your omega senses quiver like a roiling sea being brought to boil, only partially satiated by Katsuki's frequent touches and attention.

It all comes to a head at Kensuke's pre-heat party. Honestly, you should've begged off, but you didn't want to draw suspicion and everyone kept saying how they wanted to meet your mate. Kensuke himself brings along a Dynamight t-shirt in the hopes of a signature, which is just so cute you can't bring yourself to ditch the party.

"Congrats and good luck with your heat," you beam, toasting with Kensuke and his mate, a very pretty brunette who keeps her hand firmly around Kensuke's arm. She gives you a grin and a wink.

"Thanks," she says, "though we shouldn't need it. Ken-chan and I are old hats at this now."

"Your mate's scent is pretty strong, huh?" Kensuke says, tilting his nose up in spite of the grilled skewers being handed around. "It's almost like you're the one in pre-heat with how overpowering his scent is over yours."

"Haha," you swipe a skewer and pretend to be intensely interested in the slightly charred yakiniku. "You're probably just confusing my scent since you're in pre-heat, Kensuke-san!"

"Hm, I guess so," he says easily. His expression suddenly perks up, but you don't need to turn to see why. Every hair on your body raises as that comforting, overwhelming, smoky sweet scent washes over you. "Oh look! It's really Dynamight!"

Fuck.

You feel his red hot stare burrowing into you, and you know without a doubt that he's caught the way you've tensed up. You can feel your nipples perk against the silk fabric of your shirt, straining through your bra, and your panties get undeniably damp as his gaze drags along your form. You feel warm, warmer than you should be in this partially outdoor izakaya, and the air suddenly feels stifling, like you're swimming in smoke.

Katsuki's hand is heavy on your shoulder. You feel his touch like a brand, searing straight through your meager defenses, a spark that flickers as it drifts down to the well of your desire. You know — you know that once it catches, once it alights — you're both screwed.

"Hey, babe," you chirp, leaning into his arm as if your entire body isn't thrumming with want. "This is Kensuke-san and his mate! He brought one of your shirts — would you pretty please sign it?"

Katsuki's red eyes flash as he nods. To everyone else at the party, he probably looks normal. Just a regular Pro Hero alpha, strong and exuding power, all dense muscle and grace and skill, little sparks flying from his hands as he adds a tiny explosion smudge to the end of his signature on Kensuke's merch shirt. The guest of honor and his mate thank Katsuki profusely, and you take advantage of their distraction to slide away towards the bathrooms inside the izakaya proper.

This isn't good. You need to figure out how to get out without anyone noticing that Katsuki's been eye-fucking you since he got here, and then you need to bolt home so you can collapse into your heat in peace. One more touch from your mate and you'll probably drop right into it, but there's no way Katsuki will be able to keep his hands off you tonight.

You press yourself flat against the concrete wall in the hallway for the bathrooms, heart hammering in your chest. Forget worrying about your company's pre-heat shenanigans — you have a new fear unlocked: going into heat at a party full of coworkers.

"Whoa, hey!" Akane's a little louder than usual, a little wobblier on her feet. "The bathrooms are here, yeah?"

You manage to laugh, though there's a pitch of desperation in it that she thankfully doesn't notice. "Yup, they're right here! I just needed a breather. Hey, what happened to sticking to the nonalcoholic stuff?"

"Aw, yeah, I'm having those next," Akane flaps her hand at you breezily. "I'll sober up before I get home! Don't worry your pretty little head 'bout me! Hey, have I ever told you how nice your skin looks? Like, whoaaa."

This makes you giggle. "Do you need help in the bathroom?"

"Nope!" She shoots you a thumbs up. "See ya soon!"

You watch with amusement as she stumbles into the bathroom, but she doesn't hit anything on her way inside, so you lean back against the wall again and take a deep breath. You're aching — a deep, insistent pulse throbbing between your legs as a rich smoky caramel scent tickles at your instincts. Oh, shit.

You barely manage step away from the wall when suddenly Katsuki's there, looming big and broad and setting off every alarm bell ringing in your head. He eyes you with a flinty glare that's more black than red for a moment before he huffs and grabs your hand.

"Uh —"

"Zip it or I'll fuck you right here," Katsuki grits out. Oh, god. Your panties are sticking to your folds, tacky and damp, and you bite back a whimper as he pulls you along. His hand is warm around yours, and even though he's tugging you towards the back entrance of the izakaya, he never moves too quickly for you to keep up.

The two of you burst out into the back alleyway and Katsuki spares a quick glance around before he's on you.

He keeps a hand on the back of your head as he slams you into the dirty brick wall, shielding you even as he wrenches your waist towards him to grind his incriminatingly hard length against you. He kisses you like he wants to eat you alive, wiping out all coherent thought in your brain as your senses strain towards him. "You're gonna kill me," he grunts. You whimper into the kiss and clutch at his shoulders for dear life as he licks into your mouth, filthy and wet, swallowing down your pitched moans as he rocks his clothed cock against your center.

"What d'you want? Fingers or mouth?"

Your eyelashes flutter open in confusion. Your mind feels hazy, lost in the smoky sweetness of your mate, your focus entirely zeroed in on the throbbing of your pussy as Katsuki swears low beneath the clattering of the izakaya door opening.

"Wh— whoops!" the voice sounds familiar, but you can't quite place it. You blearily try to turn your head towards the sound, but Katsuki anchors you closer to him, covering you with his broad shoulders. "I was just — oh! You two should head home! I'll let everyone know you had an emergency!"

The roar of the crowds inside the izakaya rises in volume again before the door clangs shut. Katsuki picks you up before you can figure out what's happening, a strong hand tucking beneath your thighs as you cling to his neck. "Hold on tight."

"What're you— Katsuki, what the fuck!?" The loud, snapping, popping sound of explosions echo in the night before you're suddenly shooting straight into the sky, air rushing past you like you're flying. You tuck your face into his neck and swallow down an aborted scream, because, well — you are flying, propelled through the city skyline by Katsuki's explosive power.

Your boyfriend laughs. The shaking of his chest is familiar, at least, and you concentrate on that and the strong, sweet scent of his scent gland right beneath your lips. It would be downright disastrous for you to bite him now, while you're soaring through the city leaving fireworks in your wake, but you can't help kissing and sucking at the skin of his neck and shoulder as your body shivers with want.

There's a thud as he lands heavily and then a muttered curse before the tinkle of glass meeting concrete filters into your ears. You take a peek and catch sight of your apartment's balcony curtains fluttering in the wind, but the perspective is all wrong — why're you looking in as if you're —

"Katsuki," you pinch one of his strong shoulders, "did you just break into our apartment?"

"I'll get the glass replaced next week," Katsuki says, stepping inside and kicking off his boots. You're shivering, hot, feverish. He's warm, too — as usual — but sweat beads across his brow and you know you're close. "Bed, now. Or all our neighbors'll hear you screamin' my name."

Katsuki doesn't put you down. He carries you in a princess hold, the hand supporting your back smelling like smoke and soot, and he kicks the bedroom door shut with one socked foot. "Katsuki, Katsuki," he mocks, and suddenly you realize you've been chanting his name, fingers clenching tight to the hairs on the back of his head. "What d'you want, baby? Fingers or mouth?"

"I want you —"

His laugh is rough, a tortured sound spilling from his lips as he drops you on the bed and immediately kneels between your legs. Your breath catches in your throat as he slides your shoes off and tosses them aside. You lean up on your elbows to watch, wide eyed and breathless, as he trails his lips along the bare skin of your calf, hiking your skirt up with every beat of your heart. "I want you, too," he mutters, pupils blown wide with lust, his smirk pressing into your thigh. "But answer the question."

Your body thrums with anticipation. You can feel your heartbeat in your core like a siren song. "Katsuki, please —"

Katsuki snaps. A loud riiip tears through the air as he tosses aside the ruined fabric of your panties and then he's on you, his tongue licking dirty and insistent through your folds. You choke on a moan, hips canting into the air as pleasure sparks in your synapses, chasing the feeling as he eats you out like a man starved.

"Katsuki, Ka— nghh, Katsuki, please —"

Your boyfriend swirls his tongue around your clit and you nearly sob as you clench around nothing, your inner walls spasming with your near orgasm. Your thighs are tense, locked tight around his head. Katsuki doesn't seem to mind, lapping at your slick and groaning into your warmth, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs to hold you down.

Distantly you hear yourself whimpering and whining, but Katsuki continues to torture you, bringing you to the brink and pulling back as soon as you start to spasm. Somewhere in the depths of your mind you know there's a way to get him to — to fuck you properly —

You release the blanket you've been twisting in a death grip and scrabble for the pheromone patch on your neck. It takes a few tries as you pant helplessly, your fingers sliding off your sweaty skin, but as soon as your nail digs under the edge you rip it off and drown.

"Haah, fuck you —"

Katsuki rips himself away from your fluttering pussy with a groan and shoves his pants down awkwardly, the thick fabric catching on his thighs but low enough that his cock springs free. You whine at the sight, reaching for him, and he huffs out a laugh as he clambers over you. "You asked for it," he warns, but his voice cracks as the tip of his cock nudges against your wet folds.

"Oh, god, please please please. In," you grab at his arms and tilt your hips up, "Please get inside me."

"Fucking — hell —" Katsuki groans as he pushes inside, but his self control is at an all time low. He doesn't want to hurt you, but you're so wet and warm and your velvety walls are practically squeezing him in a vice grip.

He shoves every hard inch of his cock into you with a grunt, kissing you hard as you fall off the edge into bliss.

White. Sparks. It takes you a moment to come back to your senses, a moan punching through your chest as Katsuki pants into your neck. "Fuck."

"Yeah?" He rolls his hips and you whine at the sensation of being stuffed full of his cock, wiggling as best as you can beneath him. His skin is sweaty and sticky against yours, and you realize pulled his own shirt off. He's shoved your borrowed shirt up and off so that you're nearly naked, and out of the corner of your eye you spot your bra dangling from the doorknob where he tossed it away.

"Katsuki, c'mon, move," you plead. He digs his elbows into the mattress on either side of your head and rolls his hips again, dragging every rock solid inch of him against your insides. You clench around him, sparks skittering up your veins as he bullies his way back in, and then he's gone.

Katsuki fucks you into the mattress. You can barely string together a sentence, holding onto his arms as he shoves himself deep with every thrust. The overpowering scent of him fills the air along with the smell of sex and sweat and your choked off moans. You cling to him as best as you can, tilting your neck up as an offering as his thrusts get deeper and harder, crying out when he reaches to rest your legs on his shoulders, ankles dangling by his head as the changed angle lets his cock kiss a spot inside you that makes you sob.

"Oh, oh, Katsuki, fuck please I need you I want you please please please —"

"I — I got you," he grunts, "just fucking — hah you've gotta —"

"Oh I'm gonna cum, I'm — Katsuki I'm gonna cum!"

Katsuki growls as you leap off the edge again, pressing a strangely sweet kiss to your lips before leaning down further and licking along the side of your neck. You barely have a moment to register what he's doing before his body locks up and he bites you, marking you as his cock spurts and kicks inside you.

"Oh, fuck —"

The heady rush of pheromones sends you spinning dizzily higher, a pleasure so intense lighting up your nerves you nearly black out. Distantly you can still feel Katsuki cumming, thick ropes of white painting your insides as he rocks his hips in tiny, incessant motions against you. He lets go of your neck with a grunt. And then you feel it.

"Ah. Ah." The swell of his knot is thick and alarming, but you force yourself not to tense as he locks up with you. The overwhelming feeling sends your nerves buzzing and you tilt your head to kiss him, languid and sweet.

"How's it?" he asks, breaking the kiss just to press his sweaty forehead against yours. You meet his deep red eyes and brush a kiss along the pink swell of his cheekbones. "I didn't hurt you?"

"I'm fine," you sigh. Your heart is still thumping like a drum in your chest, but Katsuki is warm and solid and unyielding around and inside you. You're so full. You nuzzle into the neck of your mate. "You're lucky I'm so damn bendy."

The first knot is always the most lucid, the relief of sliding into heat lending clarity to both of your senses before dissolving into a messy, incoherent sex fest. By the end of the cycle you'll have lost track of how many times and how many ways Katsuki takes you — though you know he's fond of the shower and he used to like propping you up against the balcony doors…

"Did you really break the balcony door?" you ask suddenly, disrupting Katsuki's careful kiss to your jaw. Your boyfriend snorts, slowly sliding your legs off his shoulders and wincing lightly as his knot jostles inside you.

"If I had to go through the apartment I would've taken you in the goddamn elevator."

"Oh." You wince as his knot slips slightly. Another thought leaps unbidden to the front of your mind. "Who was that at the izakaya?"

Katsuki shrugs. "Some chick. The one you were helpin' to the bathroom."

Your brain still feels fuzzy with endorphins and the afterglow of white hot pleasure, so it takes you a moment longer to figure out who he's talking about. You groan. "Oh, no… not Akane…"

"She said she'd take care of it," Katsuki assures you, nosing along your neck. "And 'sides, that's not what you should be worried 'bout."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh? And what's that?"

The grin Katsuki shoots you is shit-eating and terribly, annoyingly endearing.

"You begged for it first."

A few days later, while Katsuki heats up some premade food so neither of you die of malnutrition, you finally remember to turn on your phone. It pings! with notifications, but one flagged as "important" catches your eye.

Shimizu: Hey friend, hope your heat's going well! I've sent along your company care package to be delivered to your apartment, and once you get back we'll have a post heat drinking party for you! I also sent out your pre-heat company-wide congratulations email a few days ago, but don't worry, I'll send it out earlier next time so we can celebrate you properly!

Katsuki pokes his head into the bedroom at your loud groan, two plates piled high with food balancing on his strong forearms.

"What's the matter, pipsqueak?"

"Did we get a delivery?" you ask. Katsuki sets the plates down on the bed beside you and disappears for a moment, but then you hear a loud bark of laughter and he reappears with a large box. "Oh, no. Don't tell me…"

Katsuki reaches in and whips out a dildo with your company's name stamped along the base. "They found out?"

"I'm gonna die," you say. "I can never face any of them ever again."

"So dramatic," Katsuki snorts, setting the box down. He braces his hands on either side of your thighs as he leans down to kiss you. "Wanna see which one makes you beg hardest?"

"We are not using those toys, Katsuki!"

"We'll see how you feel when I've got you beggin' for me again."

#tw omegaverse #tw a/b/o #cw a/b/o #cw omegaverse #a/b/o dynamics #cw knotting #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you #mha x reader #mha x you #bnha writing #mha writing #x reader #at long last! hope you enjoy!#lmk if i need to add any other warnings!#fuji writes!

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aspenmissing · 4 months ago

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ᴀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ || ꜱᴍᴜᴛ +18 || 1980 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ (ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ). 18+ ᴏɴʟʏ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏ/ɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀᴛᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀʙ, ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʜᴇᴍɪꜱᴛʀʏ ᴜɴᴅᴇɴɪᴀʙʟᴇ. ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴛᴇɴꜱᴇ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀ, ʏ/ɴ ɪɴᴠɪᴛᴇꜱ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʜᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ, ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇ, ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇ-ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ

The lab was a sanctuary of technological wonders, but on this particular evening, it was a backdrop to a different kind of experimentation. Y/N, driven by a mix of curiosity and desire, decided to pay Jayce a visit, little did she know the events that were about to unfold.

As she entered, the dimly lit room revealed a focused Jayce, his dedication to his craft evident. He was bent over a workbench, his muscular arms flexing as he adjusted some intricate Hextech mechanism. The faint glow of the crystals bathed his face, accentuating his strong features and the intensity in his deep blue eyes. Y/N couldn't help but admire the way his jaw clenched in concentration, a sight that had become a secret pleasure for her over the past few weeks.

"Surprised to still see you here, Counsellor" you teased, stepping inside. The heels of your boots echoed on the polished floor, drawing his attention. "Even Viktor went home."

Jayce glanced up, a soft smile breaking through his focused expression. "Someone's got to keep Piltover running smoothly," he quipped, though his eyes lingered on you a beat too long, betraying where his thoughts had wandered.

"Running smoothly?" you echoed, stepping closer. "More like running yourself ragged." You perched on the edge of his desk, sliding a blueprint aside to make room for yourself. The proximity drew his gaze to your legs, barely hidden beneath your fitted skirt, and you caught the slight hitch in his breath.

"You know," you began, leaning slightly forward, "I think you could use a break." Your voice dipped lower, a playful lilt weaving into your words.

Jayce raised a brow, though the corner of his mouth quirked in amusement. "Oh? And what kind of break do you suggest?"

Without another word, you grabbed his tie, tugging him closer until his face hovered mere inches from yours. His eyes widened for a moment, then darkened, his lips parting as if to speak. You didn’t give him the chance.

The kiss was hungry, igniting a spark that had been simmering between you for weeks. Jayce's hands found your waist, pulling you fully onto the desk as papers scattered to the floor. The cool surface pressed against your thighs, a contrast to the heat that built between you.

"Here?" he murmured against your lips, though his tone was anything but hesitant. Jayce stood between your legs, his hands roaming freely over your exposed skin, his touch both gentle and possessive. He leaned forward, capturing your mouth again, his tongue exploring, demanding, as his hands cupped your breasts, thumbs teasing your nipples to peaks.

Y/N moaned into the kiss, her hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. She could feel his erection, hard and insistent, pressing against her core through the fabric of their clothes. Breaking the kiss, she whispered, "Jayce, please..."

He responded by kissing his way down her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses and gentle bites, making her arch her back and squirm on the table. His hands moved to the hem of her skirt, pushing it up, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of her thighs. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

Y/N's breath came in short gasps as she felt his fingers hook into the waistband of her panties, slowly sliding them down her legs. The cool air on her exposed flesh made her tremble, and she reached for him, needing to feel his skin against hers.

Jayce stepped out of his trousers, his arousal springing free, and Y/N's eyes widened at the sight of him, thick and ready. He positioned himself at her entrance, his hands gripping her thighs, and slowly, inch by delicious inch, he filled her.

"Oh, gods," she breathed, her head falling back as he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate. The table creaked beneath them, the sound blending with their moans and the wet, slick sounds of their coupling.

Jayce's lips found hers again, his kiss demanding and possessive, mirroring the rhythm of his hips. He was in control, setting the pace, but Y/N matched his passion, her nails digging into his shoulders, marking him as her own.

"Faster, Jayce," she pleaded, her voice hoarse with desire. "Please..."

He obliged, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, driving them both towards the edge. Y/N's body tensed, every nerve alight with pleasure, and she cried out his name as her orgasm ripped through her, waves of pleasure crashing over her. Jayce followed soon after, his breath hot against her neck as he spilled himself deep within her, his body shuddering with release.

For a moment, they remained entangled, hearts racing, breath mingling. Then, with a soft laugh, Jayce withdrew, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "Well, that was certainly an... enlightening break."

Y/N, still dazed from the intensity of their encounter, smiled up at him. "I agree... How about we go back to my place and continue this "break"."

Jayce's lips curled into a mischievous grin as he looked down at you, still catching his breath. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your arm, his touch soft and tender compared to the earlier intensity.

"Your place, huh?" he teased, his voice low and gravelly. "Are you trying to keep me all to yourself tonight?"

You smirked, your hand sliding up his chest, nails lightly grazing the firm planes of muscle. "Would you prefer to stay here, Councillor?" you murmured, your tone laced with playful defiance.

Jayce chuckled, the deep sound sending shivers through you. "As much as I enjoy the view here,"—his hand slipped to the curve of your waist—"I think I'd rather see how comfortable your bed is." His lips brushed against your ear as he added, "We might need a bigger workspace for... more experiments."

Your cheeks flushed, but you held his gaze, feigning composure. "Well, then," you said, sliding off the desk with deliberate slowness, your body brushing tantalizingly against his. "You’d better grab your coat, Talis. I don’t intend to stop once we start."

Jayce’s eyes darkened with desire, his breath hitching as you stepped away, offering him a coy smile over your shoulder. The sight of you, dishevelled but utterly confident, sent a rush of adrenaline through him.

"Lead the way," he said, voice rough with anticipation. He grabbed his jacket, slinging it over his shoulder as he followed you out of the lab, the sound of your heels echoing in the quiet halls.

By the time you reached your place, the door barely had time to close before Jayce had you pinned against it, his lips crashing into yours with renewed fervour. His hands roamed your body, rediscovering the curves and dips he’d already memorized earlier, as though he couldn’t get enough.

"You're insatiable," you whispered between heated kisses, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"And you're impossible to resist," he replied, his voice husky, before lifting you into his arms and carrying you toward the bedroom. "Now let’s see if you can keep up, Y/N."

The night stretched on, filled with whispered promises, stolen breaths, and the kind of passion that left no space for sleep. The world outside faded into irrelevance as the two of you gave in to each other over and over, breaking only when dawn painted the horizon in soft hues of gold.

As you lay tangled together in the morning light, his arm draped protectively around you, Jayce pressed a kiss to your temple. "I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of these... breaks."

"Good," you murmured, tracing patterns on his chest. "Because I don’t intend to stop taking them with you."

Jayce pushed open the door to the lab, the faint buzz of Hextech machinery greeting him. He walked in with a confident stride, though the faintest hint of a smirk still lingered on his lips. The events of the night before played in his mind like a vivid dream—your touch, your laughter, the way you'd left him utterly breathless.

But the smirk quickly faded as he spotted Viktor leaning against his desk, arms crossed, a single brow raised. His sharp, unimpressed gaze flicked between Jayce and the mess of blueprints and tools scattered across the floor.

"Good morning," Viktor drawled, his accent thick with bemusement. "I assume there is a... creative explanation for why your desk now looks like it survived a Hextech explosion."

Jayce froze for a moment, then cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, I was working late," he began, his tone far too casual to be convincing. "Things got... a little hectic."

Viktor's lips twitched, though it wasn’t clear if it was from amusement or exasperation. "Hectic?" he repeated, pushing off the desk and stepping closer. His cane tapped lightly against the floor as he gestured to the disarray. "This doesn’t look like 'hectic,' Jayce. This looks like you were testing the limits of gravity."

Jayce chuckled nervously, bending down to start gathering the scattered blueprints. "You know how it gets, late nights and all. Brainstorming ideas, testing theories..." He glanced at Viktor, who had his arms crossed again, watching him like a hawk.

"And testing theories involves knocking half your tools onto the floor? Fascinating." Viktor tilted his head, his expression growing sly. "Or perhaps there is a different reason for this chaos. One you’d rather not put in your report to the Council."

Jayce’s cheeks reddened, and he avoided Viktor’s piercing gaze. "It’s not what you think," he muttered, stuffing the papers into a neat pile.

"Really?" Viktor said, leaning on his cane with an air of mock thoughtfulness. "What are these, then?"

Jayce frowned in confusion, turning to see what Viktor was holding. His eyes widened, his face instantly flushing crimson as he spotted the object dangling off the end of a ruler Viktor held delicately between two fingers.

It was unmistakable: a lacy pair of underwear, swinging gently as Viktor raised a brow, his expression the very picture of feigned innocence.

"Viktor!" Jayce spluttered, his voice cracking as he scrambled forward, swiping at the ruler. Viktor nimbly pulled it back, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

"Ah, ah," Viktor chided, smirking as he examined the undergarment with exaggerated curiosity. "I do not recall this being a standard component of Hextech innovation. Unless you’ve developed a... flexible fabric capacitor?"

Jayce groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I can explain," he muttered, though it was clear from Viktor’s expression that no explanation would ever satisfy the amusement he was currently feeling.

"Please do," Viktor replied, his tone dripping with mock encouragement. "I’m positively riveted. Were you testing the tensile strength of your desk, or was it a more... hands-on approach to research?"

Jayce let out a deep sigh, knowing he was entirely at Viktor's mercy. "Alright, fine. It’s exactly what it looks like," he admitted, grabbing the ruler and hastily removing the incriminating evidence. He stuffed it into his pocket, avoiding Viktor’s piercing gaze.

Viktor chuckled, leaning back against his desk with an air of victory. "You’re lucky I respect you too much to bring this up at the next Council meeting," he said with a wry grin. "But you do owe me. Organise the workshop - for a week"

Jayce shook his head, unable to suppress a sheepish grin despite the embarrassment. "Fine," he muttered. "I'll organise the entire workshop for a week."

"Good man," Viktor replied, smirking as he turned back to his own desk. But before he resumed his work, he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"And, Jayce?"

"Yeah?" Jayce asked cautiously, already dreading what would come next.

"Next time, try to keep the... 'research and development' strictly within the confines of your personal workspace."

Jayce groaned loudly, his hands flying up in frustration as Viktor’s soft chuckle filled the room. He's never going to let him live this down. Ever.

#arcane #arcane fandom #arcane smut #jayce x reader #jayce talis x reader #arcane jayce x reader #jayce smut #Jayce x reader smut

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heartsforfolklore · 2 days ago

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scrolling through Pinterest and found the most pre-crash nat core pic of Sophie to exist so now I’m gonna do dating hcs except it’s just me projecting….

sorry

— This pic would be taken by you, her lovely gf, on your your Polaroid or some other camera idk, and that is YOUR CAT in her lap mhm yup yup

— mostly would hang out at your place bc… well yes! she doesn’t want to deal with Vera

— so basically, your room is her safe space. She’ll sneak into your room, maybe climb the tree by your window or throw pebbles at your window till you open up idk

— she has a drawer/closet space in your room

— you are her opposite (this is me projecting btw) like she’s punk, a riot grrrl, kinda snobby when it comes to alt music and culture and you’re like… soft(er) like, Mazzy Star, The Cocteau Twins, Jeff Buckley, The cranberries, The Sunday’s—dreamy/dreamlike music, you read Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolf, and Dostoevsky, you’re snobby with literature—prob in AP Lit too, (projecting again, sorry) and… she hasn’t touched a book since freshman year LMAO

— you started talking bc you’re a fucking loser loner in PE (haha me) and she’s low-key like Cookie Monster pajama pants girl coded or like the random alt baddie who also doesn’t want to try in PE and like adopts the strays. But like… she’s really athletic so you don’t know why she doesn’t try in PE. Says she’s saving her energy for soccer (it’s like… November, Soccer doesn’t start till the Spring babes..)

— FEMINISTS YUP YUP YUP, ranting about the gender pay gap and the sexist pigs at WHS, (lowkey misandrists but that’s another topic..)

— and if I say bi4bi couple then what? You can both appreciate beauty when you see it.

— she gets you into Hole and Courtney Love

— IF you’re on the soccer team too, you drive her home from practice (and to school, and… like everywhere)

— passenger princess Nat you are real to me. That bitch does NOT have her license 😭

— you mistakenly take her kleptomaniac ass to the mall… she doesn’t get caught but you’re flabbergasted when she pulls out three eyeliner pencils from her bra cause she “ran out”

— makes fun of you the first time you get high together. See, she’s a seasoned professional… you’re not, the most you’ve done is smoked a cigarette because you thought it made you more “mysterious” or like you just came out of an old film noir

— you do the thing where you press the lit ends of the cigarette together to light the other (huzz idk I’ve never smoked but it’s what Stein and Spirit do in Soul Eater 💀)

— cannot hold a job to save her life, and you keep telling her to apply to Hot Topic or Spencer’s but she thinks it’s too cliche

— so basically you have to sugar mama her till she actually gets a job

— she comes over to your house to watch SNL with you and your family, who welcome her like a second (or third, or fourth, or however many siblings you have idk, I’m projecting again) daughter (they don’t know you’re together) and she riffs with your dad and it EMBARRASSES YOU SO BAD.

— you become her rock, it’ll take a while for her to completely open up to you but when you do, know that she intends to keep you around for a long time because she wouldn’t just spill her guts like that to anyone

— she kisses like it’s a sport, sometimes it’s soft and sweet, but not often. Most of the time she’ll just grab your face and kiss your lights out—it’s agressive at the same time as it’s playful. Like, she gets cuteness agression and she just wants to squeeze your cheeks and kiss your puckered lips. SOMEBODY SEDATE ME!!!

— “I’m boredddd” final boss, and maybe it’s unchecked ADHD

— you’re both sat, front row, when The Craft comes out (May 3rd, 1996, trust, you two will be there.)

— furthering the Van and Nat childhood bsfs agenda: they still hang out and Van is the only person she’s told about her sexuality and relationship.

— she was really nervous to kiss you for the first time, like yeah, she’s kissed and gotten cozy with people before but, this was you, and she actually gives a shit about you, because you aren’t just a distraction

— let’s you write your name on her converse

— making zines with each other and cutting up magazines and old newspapers to make the fonts/letters with ransom letters

— back to the mall, you have so many photo booth photos with her, are half of them you guys kissing or her biting your cheek? Well, yes. But who cares, nobody is seeing them but you two.

— on the same note, you use the photo booth as an excuse to make out

— you guys probably got your freak on to Fade into you

— during the fall, you guys go to the Football (American football btw) games to heckle and boo at the players and probably get kicked out of the stands so you guys end up at some shitty fast food place near by

— hitting up the grimiest thrift stores, flipping through racks while Natalie criticizes every basic band tee. She makes fun of you for buying a floral slip dress, then stares way too long when you try it on. (can’t stop staring at her t-t-t-face)

— doesn’t out-right say “I love you” often but has many ways she shows she does; memorizing the lyrics to your favorite songs, getting your favorite drink from the vending machine, eye contact while she kisses the back of your hand/your knuckles. Deffo an “actions speak louder than words” kinda girl.

— she thinks you’re too good for her & often needs reassurance. One of her love languages is words of affirmation.

— historians will say you two are just best friends! It’s the 90s in some no-name town in New Jersey, so things are kept under wraps…

— if you’re a poet, she’s your muse. If she’s a musician (nat band!au??) you’re her muse.

— calls you “pretty” like it’s your name; pretty girl, pretty thing, pretty baby, “hey, pretty” IM SCREAMING!!!! That, or Angel, or My Girl

— call her “my girl” and she’ll melt. She prefers just Nat from you, but doesn’t mind “babe” or “baby” from time to time

— “I don’t believe in god, but I believe that you’re my savior” yeah, shout out Gigi Perez

— will pull you into a bathroom stall during passing period just to kiss you, then will walk out like nothing happened, leaving you stunned

— kiss her scars

— doing her makeup, her painting your nails or her dressing you in her clothes and vice versa

— date nights at shitty fast food places (Taco Bell, White Castle, Checkers, etc.) or drive in movies(lowk greaser!nat vibes w this one..)

— you either help her do her homework or just do it for her, no in between. It’s not that she’s not smart, she just doesn’t try

———⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

sorry if these are bad, like, holy yap fest on my part

#natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader #headcanon #yellowjackets headcanons #Natalie scatorccio headcanons #I’m obsessed with her #wife #This is literally just me protecting #It’s so mindlessly self indulgent #I came up with half this at 12am #And during school #yellowjackets x reader #dating headcanons

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kentnaturaltribrid · 9 days ago

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“I’m not here to help you. I’m here to help Gotham.”

Got bored and of course not much else to do. So, ended up having to do some pieces and ended up running out of any strings for projects so went with Ribbons. 🎀

Not much of another option left in the pile anyway. Anyhow, Hoppy end of spring!!!

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pyxxiestyxx · 8 months ago

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Snickerdoodle

(Cw: bittersweet, death and mourning, no kink) She looked at the affini in the way one looks at the stars for the first time, in the way that was filled with equal parts confusion and wonder and that dizzying sense of perceiving something wholly unlike the world she ever knew. The affini smiled down at her with a serenity that felt impossible to shake, holding out a gift, an invitation, and a promise.

It was called a 'snickerdoodle', a word that felt like laughter on her tongue when she said it. She said it twelve times that night: once to make sure she heard it correctly, ten times in the mirror to herself after she got home, and once more before turning off the light. The last thoughts that spun through her head tasted of warm vanilla and softly sweet cinnamon, of wishing she could always have one in her bedside table for hard moments. To remind her of this Day.

Her Spring was a season of firsts: first dates, first kisses, first secrets, first dances in starlight. She learned how warm the affini's core was as they embraced, slowly circling the pavilion where they first met as they stepped in time with the music that was felt more than heard. She gave her last true choice on that night, offered it up to the one who wrapped around her heart and sang her a lullaby.

She spoke with her affini in the way an old married couple does, in the way that was less words and more humming and gentle sighs and careful flicks of their eyes. Of shared jokes and shared memories and shared love, of a trust that only deepened with time. It was the girl's greatest and most beloved gift: the relationship between her and her affini was irreplicable, irreplaceable, irremovable. She lived a thousand days of warmth and movement and passion, of sweat on her brow and rosy red blushing her cheeks. And after they were done, she felt the affini's serenity cascade through her muscles and fill her thoughts.

She took up baking, working on her craft for years. Her hands grew strong and sure as they kneaded dough and mixed the ingredients together. She sang while she worked, a trait she learned from her affini. They would often bake together, the harmony in their voices carrying out the open window and over the nearby hills. It rang of joy, the kind one has when they are happy to be alive, to be in this very moment, to share a memory with another. She never tied her hair up, so her affini would always have to reach behind her and keep it out of the way. The girl always rolled her eyes and laughed when the affini shook a vine at her in mock warning.

Her Summer was a season of motion: bodies in motion, motioning for friends to come closer, the motion of a musical melody. She learned about change, on how affini would grow old and weaker before being reborn in an eruption of vines and love. She held her affini's hand as they closed their many eyes on this bloom, and squealed with joy as they lifted her on arms anew. She gave her last sigh of relief that morning, the last true worry in her mind extinguished.

She walked with her affini in the way one walks when their body is aging faster than their mind, in the way that was an itch to run and frolic and get dirt on her knees…but accepted that most of those days were behind her. She smiled with some of that same serenity now, the kind of peace one can hold in their heart when they have been content for a long, long time.

She couldn't bake as much anymore, so she took to teaching the newer florets her craft. It was rewarding to watch them grow under her watchful eye, to shake her head and sigh with mock exasperation at their antics. How silly they are!, she would mutter to her affini. Surely I wasn't like that? And oh, how her affini would chuckle and roll their shoulders in a shrug, before telling the florets about how their mentor used to skip stones on the pond out back, or how she used to shriek and play just as they did.

Her Autumn was a season of relaxation: relaxing into chairs, into baths, into the vines of her beloved. She learned the pleasure that came from watching the world around her, of being a part of it and sinking into it and through it, woven like fine threads as they slowly walked to the pavilion to watch the sunset. She gave her last steps that evening, one last dance as she rested her weary head on her affini's chest.

They held their floret's hand in the way one holds a precious treasure, in the way one holds memories and songs and laughter in their heart. Their floret had been bedridden for a long time by now, but they both knew that change would always come. Her floret smiled down at them with a serenity that felt impossible to understand, squeezing their vines with every ounce of strength they had left in their fragile bones.

The affini was asked to look in the bedside drawer, which held her last gift to them: A cookie she had baked over a century ago, held in perfect stasis, still warm from the oven the floret had pulled it out of. The affini gently broke it in half, letting them both savor the cinnamon and vanilla together. A last meal, a last memory, a last moment. A worn and wrinkled hand wrapped around the vines of someone both young and old, squeezing for the last time.

Their Winter was a season of loss: losing nights to worry, losing days to planning, losing their mind to grief. They learned anew the pain that comes with change, the trembling in their core that cried out for their floret to be pushed against it. They learned about the letter when they were cleaning their floret's room, the letter old after sitting under the pillow for years.

"To my beloved, my one, my everything,

My Life was one of sharing: sharing songs, sharing dances, sharing memories and golden dreams and little things. I learned about you, about how you gave me so, so much, more than I could ever hope to ask for and then more. You opened yourself to me, knowing you would be here after, knowing you would suffer. I cannot hope to understand the depths of your love; I only hope you knew that mine was deeper than I ever thought possible. I give you my last words, so that you can find that same serenity you gave me:

I love you more than there are stars in the sky, and I want you to remember me when you next make a treat for a new one to hold. I want you to smile your wonderful smile, the one that ensnared my heart and led me places I could only dream of before. Fill their world with cinnamon and vanilla, my love, and show them how to let go of what hurts to cling to. Let yourself make those new memories; your warmth is too special to be left alone.

My darling, my affini, my life: show them how we used to dance.

I remain, as always, Your Floret, now and forever"

#human domestication guide #hdg #pyxfics #microfiction #i'm not crying you're crying #fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck #I'm gonna go hug someone

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itgirlgyu · 7 months ago

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HOW TO GET BACK AT MIDDLE-SCHOOLERS.

₍ sum.₎ after experiencing some bullying from middle schoolers, and getting swindled out of the last bit of his money, he instills your help, his best friend, to get back his money as well as honour. but you soon find out that he was not telling the entire truth... would you still find him despite finding his dirty little secret? yeonjun x fem!reader. ft! cashier!soobin. warning!!! some cussing, mean kids, weird adults, age shaming. :( WC! 3.9k+.

“how the fuck do you get scammed by middle schoolers?” you spat the words with the contempt to bruise whatever ego yeonjun had left—if any—after getting deceived by a bunch of school going kids and instead of taking action by himself to sleep better at night with the assurance that he wasn't such a major pushover, he had come crying to you; begging you to avenge him whilst you were busy trying to prepare to crack the examination of your recent job interview.

“aren't they like 12?!”

“15!” yeonjun, suddenly growing a backbone corrected the little error in your data, “they are in their third year!”

“you look like you are in your third reincarnation!” she shot back, “the bags under your eyes could hold up to 15 kgs of your own bullshit so just own up to your carelessness”.

yeonjun opened his mouth to defend himself, controlling the urge to take out his phone to check out the state of the durable eye bags he was carrying under his eyes,”i thought this concealer was ultra coverage with skin like finish,” yeonjun murmured to himself.

yeonjun and you were huddled together under a shrub in the afternoon–when you should be cramming down job questionnaires–waiting for the group of kids who had mercilessly robbed your friend of his last 50 dollars of the week and seek the revenge; the barely legal sort, kissing the lethal of edge of ‘if it ever got out–neither of you would be able to show face in the community for a while. not glossing over the fact that you two were hiding into the shadow like a pair of perverts waiting to spring forth and scar the futures of the nation irrevocably. “quit yapping to yourself’ you snarled, quickly snapping your neck to check up on yeonjun, “ so what's the plan”

you both were blinking at each other for a good few seconds before it all registered in his head and he managed to face without lifting his butt even once. despite his pitiful morality to be fooled at the drop of a hat, if there was one thing he didn’t disappoint in–it was his core strength. you sometimes wish the same could have been said for his mental strength. all it took for you was to let out a sigh for him to remember the plan that he had crafted all weekend long.

“we confront them,’ he began before the expression in his face to display the crucial detail which he was failing to recall had finally graced the lacking department of his memory, “you confront them.”

you could have seen this coming from a mile away and that is exactly why you had arrived at the rendezvous for the reprisal against the middle schoolers that had wronged yeonjun.

“deal with your own shit.”

it took yeonjun less than a second to almost throw himself at your feet to stop you from abandoning him. you hadn’t even gotten to fully straighten your back before he came to his senses and decided to follow your version of the plan; the rational kind.

“we throw water at them and then we run.”

“thats your rational plan?” yeonjun retaliated, the glimmer of hope swimming in his head drowning as soon as the rational plan you had come up with was verbalized.

“i thought of it all day yesterday after you told me.”

bare-faced lies; you didn’t spare a single thought on his matter, and you were not even guilty about it. rather than keeping the promise you had been thrown into haphazardly. yeonjun, in fact, had to wake you up from a nap to come out with him to execute the little mission to reclaim his honor back.

“no we can't do that,” yeonjun spoke solemnly. the wrinkle of consequences settling deep within his non-existent pores as he averted his gaze rather shamefully. his footsteps taking like steps to aid him in facing away in his rather compact position, “my cousin is one of them.”

yeonjun added the last bit of the sentence timidly; his teeth were almost chattering out of fear.

amidst all these elaborate ruse to gain one's honor back, yeonjun had forgotten to relay one tiny crucial piece of information to you; it was his cousin and his annoying friend group who had swindled the money out of him, and the only reason he wants revenge, or something like that, was to gain back the authority one must possess as one of the eldest sons in the family: a position that he accidentally let stumble, also the money.

“why can't we do that?” you repeated your question, the annoyance slipping back through the crevice of the words letting yeonjun know of your irritation and the lack of willingness to be there any longer.

yeonjun thanked his stars for your poor sense of hearing, and his soft vocals to keep the secret remain as one, because god forbid you catch the whiff of it—yeonjun would not contemplate much to figure out the amount of money you'd extort out of him for wasting your time over a topic that could be solved in a family function. even if he does not gain back the respect he deserves, he can not let you figure out the truth if he wishes to carry on his life without a nose revision job.

“jail!” yeonjun blurted out, “we might end up in jail for harassing minors.”

“wait yeah,” you concurred, the repercussions of having hands on punishment over quite literally children finally dawning into your foggy alley of judgment, “you're right.”

“so we confront them.” yeonjun revised his earlier plan, at last deciding to go with you version, he had just to make sure his cousin does not get a word in and end up spilling water over the entire bit he had planned out—in the moment right now. if he had realized this in that time when he was overwhelmed with the humiliation and fear leading him to vent to his best friend—you—and convince you to partake in his zany revenge on children; one of which is his actual cousin. whilst this all may seem juvenile he did want to gain back the respect over the younglings in the family so perhaps this little mission was not that of a bad idea as yeonjun might have concluded it to be as it approached closer.

“i didn't think you'd be actually smart enough to foresee the consequences,” you ended up complimenting yeonjun, despite not wanting to. you hadn't always gotten a sense of caution and logic from him but at times when he did excel your set expectations of him you couldn't help but praise the man.

whilst the two of you were busy commemorating the acute common sense yeonjun possessed and decided to marvel at time of need, there was a sudden disruption into the bush you two were inhabiting. it was a football and a toddler; followed by a teenager who had come to collect both the ball and the toddler and had been very verbally freaked out to see two adults crouching down whilst having a heart to heart conversation. the look of shock and mild disgust etched on the face of the teenager had you springing up to your feet and trying to come up with a good enough reason that would not result in both of you spending a night in the jail cell.

“it's not what it looks like!”

“su-” the boy dragged his words, with his eyes glued to you as he snatched the balls and the toddler, making sure you didn't get any time to surprise attack them. without providing any time to put forth any semblance of appeal from your side the boy has scurried away, leaving you to be the epitome of “stranger danger” as well as the weird person to steer clear away from.

“this is all because of you!” the rage taking over you upon the realization that you had just ruined your perception on some random people that you will never meet again and manifesting in the kick that you had bestowed upon yeonjun's knees causing him to tumble on the side like a singular pin in the bowling alley.

“how is it because of me?” yeonjun hissed in pain, his hands quickly reaching out to grab the knee you had slightly grazed over—the real reason why he had fell over was of course his poor posture and the need to incorporate dramatics in every aspect of his life but he did not need to tell you that, and you did not need to know it either—you were already aware of this peculiar aspect of his personality as a result of the long-standing friendship, “my knees! my knees!”

you rolled your eyes and stepped away; and kept stepping away until you were almost out of the bush and he alone looked like a man who had done too much day drinking.

“when the hell are they coming?” you squint your eyes in displeasure from waiting, letting the sobriety clutch your shoulders and shake you into remembering that you are two adults waiting to ambush a bunch of kids—albeit the kids stole from your friend first, so the guilt did ease itself a little.

yeonjun shook the dust off his pants, “right about now?” scanning through the myriad of teenagers bunched together getting out of after school classes looking for the familiar faces within them, “there!” yeonjun pointed his finger towards them, pinpointing the lil posse of delinquents. your eyes followed suit and stopped at a group of three boys and two girls at a feasible distance, seemingly heading towards the convenience store.

“It's game time,” you cracked your neck, readying yourself to not get fatally wounded by the expected brashness of those brats—skillfully ignoring the look of adoration from yeonjun that followed after the declaration of gusto. strengthening the spirits as adrenaline began to rush through your veins, providing you with enough bravery to whizz out at the kids and come out as victorious if it ended within fifteen minutes: the chances of this going very wrong after the set time was dangling somewhere around 90 to 98%. if you were going to do it, you shall do it with your all.

“welcome!” the part time behind the counter greeted you and yeonjun with a sort of monotone that itself felt like it was forced out of the larynx of the unwilling worker, but you weren't here to critique the work ethic of a barely paid man; or to reciprocate the forced etiquettes. instead you let your hawk gaze zero on the pesky group that you both had followed into the store blissfully, and noisily loitering around the ramen isle.

“and i said that peanut flavored ramen would give you gyatt issues.”

“you mean gut issue—”

“hey you peanuts!”

confronting a bunch of teenagers was no easy feat, and with the so-called victim slowly stepping back with the means of becoming one with the various packets of chips was another thing but the war had been waged. in simpler words, it would be very embarrassing to not get through to the end of it.

“you bullied my friend over here,” you moved your head vaguely to point at yeonjun’s disintegrating presence, “and stole from him didn't you all?”

“what friend are you talking about?” one of the kids spoke up, “ and who you calling bullies ahjumma?”

“ahjumma?” you patience had already started strip away, pulling your facial muscles tighter, and freezing your face into an expression would make anyone's blood run cold with one glance, the only sign of life left within your eyebrows as they twitched due to the time bomb whose reverse countdown had began since the utterance of the forsaken word.

“please, any battery assault on minors if intended must be carried outside this property!” the cashier sprung into action faster than anyone, deftfully stepping up to protect his minimum wage job but the apathy had still been seeping out of his words without a hitch, sneaking stealing a glance at the cctv overlooking the entire situation to make sure his warning had been captured into the camera to ensure his participation in making sure whatever that would transpire, he had indeed tried to stop it.

perhaps, it was soobin, the cashier who had brought yeonjun back to the reality and the really ugly scenario that was about to take place if he put himself first and ran off, bidding adieu to his self respect, the money and the friendship or he could see the anger that happened to be radiating off your body because he had appeared instantaneously from the lucrative hiding spot he had found for himself within the layers of jellies, “are you okay?” the worry was evident in his voice although anyone would be a fool to not recognize the undertone of fear layered underneath the cadence of his voice.

“hyung?!”

yeonjun stiffened up—his gig was up. it happened sooner than he had expected, honestly but the little humiliation was miles better than you getting into an actual physical altercation with the kids where one of them was the son of his aunt. he was willing to sacrifice as much—amazingly enough forgetting that he was the one to rope you into this mess in the first place.

“hyung what are you doing here?” the kid queried once again, inching closer to get a better look at yeonjun’s guilty ass that even his full coverage concealer couldn't cover up.

“i-”

“hyung?” you repeated incredulously, gazing back and forth between the accused and the accuser; the so-called victim and the perpetrator, “why is he calling you hyung?”

“that's cause he is my cousin,” the accused #4 deadpanned, “wait was it because we asked for money from you like yesterday?!”

“asked? more like you guys surrounded me and wouldn't stop peer pressing me into giving you the money, so you did bully it out of me and that's not cool. “ yeonjun sighed, confessing what he had truly felt, “ so i want you to give me the money back and never do this again, that is not how you were raised.”

“wait a fucking second!” you spoke up interrupting the life lesson from older brother to younger brother, fanning away the smoke that was coming out of your nostrils at the utter betrayal from the man you had been foolishly calling your best friend for all these years, “your cousin took the money from you not some random middle schoolers?!?”

accused #4 who had been shamefully hanging his head low—proof of the choi genes aren't as rotten as yeonjun had thought it to be because once publicly shamed and given the right lesson, they do indeed listen like real men!—sensed the upcoming tsunami, and backed away, letting his cousin take the blow which he rightfully deserved.

yeonjun opened his mouth to defend himself but decided not to dig himself a deeper hole, and nodded. his new game plan was to take the verbal beating and then speak up once the physical one begins, “but you see this was needed.”

of course he couldn't help himself but speak out the truth regardless of his decision to stick to taking it instead of sticking up for himself. it is not like he has stood up with any of his choices through and through and he wasn't going to start today as well; every plan could be revised according to the situation and yeonjun quite prides himself in his flexibility. although his regard about himself might just be a little skewed to himself according to on-lookers.

“please, any attempted murder should be carried outside!” soobin the cashier intervened once more.

“dude!” yeonjun cried out, snapping his head around to find the name tag on the cashier's chest to build a closer relationship to stop him from giving his already furious best-friend—now steaming like an overheated engine—ideas on how to handle the situation. yeonjun could very well buy a new nose but how would he buy his life out from a grim reaper?

“soobin please!” the cashier, soobin, shrugged with an utmost look of languor before going back to doing nothing behind the counter, yet appearing very unavailable to be involved in further chumminess with a bunch of unpaying and troublesome customer in the store.

accused #4, who was better at reading the room than his obtuse cousin,had been quietly gathering his friends to take a run from the painful showdown that was taking place at an excruciating pace. in spite of the skilled attempt to make a run, they were stopped when you raised your voice after you finished analyzing the situation and what to do in a stupid situation like this. murder was still somewhere in the mental notepad, although not right now. you could somehow make out why yeonjun would instill your help after getting bullied by his own cousin and friends. more than his money, he wanted the respect back and you were still willing to help the man—who betrayed your trust, ruined your evening, made you seem like a pervert in the park, got you to hear a bunch of middle schoolers refer to you as an old woman and made you appear like a homicidal freak to the cashier—because he was your best friend. not for long though.

“you heard him,” you crossed your arms against your chest, the cold stealth back in your voice to scare the kids, “cough of the money and apologize to your cousin. “

yeonjun was touched; he could cry in that moment; unaware that the tears had already started to pathetically stream down his cheeks until soobin, the cashier with whom he now built a closer relationship with once he figured out that no potential crime is going to be committed in his work place, passed him the tissue to dab away the tears.

after the initial moaning and groaning, with the kids huddled in a circle to gather cash for the rightful return. they came up with 25 dollars and a few cents, the first installment as they had called it smugly.

“hyung! you have to give me a family discount!* accused #4 pleaded to your surprise, and to much bigger surprise (not really), yeonjun gave in to the entitled demand. disgracefully accepting the measly twenty five dollars and the few cents of the whole fifty that was taken away from him with an ear to ear proud grin plastered on his face, watching the presumptuous entourage of middle schoolers.

“im so glad you decided to forgive me. “ you wanted to snap in middle and shove his little gesture into his own bottoms but you resisted; clenching your teeths, your lips were pulled into a tight line to to ensure no harsh words just magically slip past and ruin the beautiful tension you were building up before you hit him with the news after he was done yapping.

“i would forgive you if you were my best friend,” you smiled, ignoring the smile that slowly disappeared off his face, “that's why you're no longer my friend. “

“consider that twenty five dollars your parting gift.” you added. your expression still taut on your face whilst yeonjun’s facial muscles started to twitch like the tectonic plates under earth's crust as he processed the sudden break up. opening his mouth like a fish coming out of water before sinking back in with the visual representation of his beak obvious in the way he appeared, clutching the twenty five dollars and the few cents in his sweaty palm.

“what?” yeonjun finally found his voice. you nodded, reiterating what you had just expressed to him, “ but you helped me out there”

“parting gift!” you called out just as soon, your attention now used to pick out the flavor of ramen you wanted to eat since you had come to the store anyway, “and for our parting dinner, pay this off” you held up the cup that you had chosen before going back to

“can't I just just pay for this and call it even?” yeonjun pleaded, hurriedly picking up the flavor he preferred and tailed you to the microwave. the impatience reflecting in the restless in his foot as he waited for your reply like a little child, making an unfair deal.

“nope!” you replied, closing the microwave and turning to look him in the eyes as you say it, “you humiliated me.”

yeonjun appeared apologetic. he was no selfish person who would put other people in such positions and derive joy from it. he wouldn't even think of asking of such favors from other than you but you felt a rage sail within you because of the fact that he had hidden the real motive beneath the silly request he made, and you had come with it despite how juvenile it might have sounded; along with the consequences if it were to turn ugly in some way

“i know i'm sorry, but you were the only one who could have helped me,” yeonjun apologized once more,“and you see how well that went. “

“no can do, grow a backbone.”

yeonjun placed his bowl after you took yours out as you were occupying the only working one.

“please!”

“nope!”

“well… “ yeonjun was growing even more restless; the rhythm of his foot tapping against the ground relaying the disorder of the folders of his mind as he fished for a suitable reason to keep the friendship,“ you don't even have other friends.”

the gasp that followed was involuntary as you sealed the packet with the wooden chopsticks with a renewed flash of anger coursing through your veins, “I'll make new!”

yeonjun finally eased a little. the smirk was slowly beginning to appear back on his face and it was looking quite smug to be owned by a man who was to be abandoned by a friend, and was supposed to be apologetic.

“hey…” you looked at the cashier, catching his attention before reading the tag on his vest, “soobin will you be my friend? ill make this convenience store my regular”

“this is already your go-to convenience store.“

your enticing smile faltered at the embarrassing attempt to make your first friend after the fall out with the best friend five minutes ago, and worse—it happened in front of him!

“oh… you must be new then?” you narrowed your eyes to analyze his features to figure out any other time you had seen him at this store, although the face felt unfamiliar but the attitude he was giving did not seem to support the conclusion you were coming to, “you're not.”

“exactly.” soobin smiled, taunting a dimple at you before putting on his deadpan expression back on.

“your best bet is me,” yeonjun, now with his hot ramen in his hand, sat next to you in front. of the window, blocking the view of soobin with his big head which had grown a few more sizes after watching you get rejected in real time,“we are the only ones who can handle each other. say if we are 30 and have a hard time finding a spouse we settle together.”

“shut the fuck up and eat your ramen.” you sulk, blowing onto the portion that was wrapped around your chopsticks before shoving it into your mouth.

“does this mean you forgave me?” the child-like lilt was back into voice and you couldn't help but roll your eyes and leave him. hanging. the silence—save for the slurps of the noodles—giving the answer he needed to feel at ease and gleefully chomp onto his sausage.

PERM' TAGLIST: @bamtorin @ox1-lovesick @jisungsdaydreamer @wonioml @1921choi @forever-in-the-sky2 @beoms-sugar @gyuletters

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