#take a brief break and have lunch | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

canthelpit0 · 5 months

Text

“We’ll figure it out”

Pairing: Inexperienced!Matt x Inexperienced!Reader

Wordcount: 5.9k +

Summary: what happens when you hook up with your long time best friend? Except both of you are virgins.

Warnings: Smut, nasty, language, use of y/n, pet names (pretty boy, sweetheart, pretty girl, etc), reader has a cat named sun, study session, oral m!receiving, brief crying, oral f!receiving, praise kink, fingering, cowgirl, no protection (wrap it up!), she’s not on BC, creampie

(A/N: English is not my first language. So sorry for any mistakes. Feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy xx)

You have known the triplets since middle school, and you’ve been close to all of them.

Well, especially with Nick.

Everything was fine, you weren’t too popular, but you also weren’t overlooked. you were middle class, not poor but also not rich. You were pretty, but never got too much attention because of it.

Little do you know, but you’re gorgeous. If you wanted to you could easily be one of the popular girls in school. But you didn’t care for it. High school was temporary, and you knew that.

And that’s exactly what Matt admires about you.

Matt is pretty introverted, and especially around freshmen year, you and his brothers would quite literally have to force him to go to school.

Now he was more calm though. Sometimes his anxiety would mess with him, but he overcame it with you and his brother's help.

For the fact that you’ve only known them since middle school, you went over to their house quite a lot. But sometimes they’d come over to yours as well.

Matt was a virgin. Most people would think that. He’s awkward in social situations and pretty shy and introverted before you get to know him.

Though, he’s had a short-term girlfriend before. Wich, at least was something.

You never dated anyone. You never cared to. You’d much rather focus on your friends and school, than some boy.

You were a virgin. It wasn’t like you never watches porn, or were innocent really. You just never got to the point of losing it to someone. Everything you’ve done was by yourself.

Wich would be fine. But you were in senior year now, and the year was almost over. Most people around you had already lost it, and you felt left out.

You were sitting at lunch, listening to Chris drone on and on about some girl he hooked up with. You purse your lips, your apatite disappearing more and more.

Suddenly Chris looks over to you. “Y/n how was your first time?”

You tense up, Taking in a harsh breath.

“Chris! You don’t just ask shit like that” Nick huffs hitting Chris on the arm.

Matt, who was sitting next to you, puts his hand on your thigh in comfort.

You squint your eyes at Chris, judging him. Or at least you try to make it look judgy.

You lean further into Matt’s side. His physical presence was keeping you grounded.

And when matt noticed just that, he takes his hand off of your thigh and instead wrapped it around your waist to pull you even closer.

“That’s none of your business.” You huff staring back at Chris.

But internally you were embarrassed because you were still a virgin.

★ ★ ★

You had planned a sleepover and study night with matt a few days ago. Essentially, he’d come to your house on Friday, and you would study. until you got tired of it and watched a movie or something.

So after school matt drove his brothers home and then drove to your house.

You got out of the car, watching as Matt reached into the backseat to grab his overnight bag.

You couldn’t help but think back to lunch break when Chris had made that comment. Chris was a player, and you knew that.

But everybody around you had lost their v card, and you just felt so left behind.

Matt huffs snapping his fingers in front of your face. You blink. He takes the keys out of your hand, grabbing your forearm to pull you to the door.

“You back with me y/n/n?” Matt ask. He looks over his shoulder as he blindly fiddles with your house keys.

“Yeah, sorry. zoned out.” You answer simply.

Matt chuckles at the flat response. He looks back at the door and finally twists it open. You two both walk in, both of you taking your shoes on.

“Hello, we’re back” Matt says loudly into the room.

You put on your house shoes and so does Matt.

You look over your shoulder at Matt with an amused expression. “Matt they already left” you huff.

“What? I thought they were gonna leave at 4?” He asks, pulling out his phone from his jean's back pocket.

It’s 4.26 pm

“Oh.” He says flatly staring at his screen.

Your parents had driven out for the weekend to your grandparents house. It was a few hours away. You hadn’t wanted to go, because for one you had already made plans for the sleepover with Matt.

And also because you had the test on Monday and you wanted to study the weekend away.

You were probably not going to anyway, but in theory..

“Yeah. oh.” You roll your eyes. Your siblings went with your parents so the house was empty. It’d be the perfect opportunity for a house party.

But you weren’t one to party, and your parents trusted you.

You and Matt walk to your kitchen. Well, it’s just matt trailing behind you.

“You want a drink?” You ask simply while you take out a Pepsi can for yourself and then put it on the counter nearest.

Matt comes up behind you. He looks over your shoulder scanning the contents of the fridge.

“Pepsi please,” he says under his breath.

You take out another can and then proceed to put it next to your can on the counter.

You slam the fridge door shut. You feel Matt turn you around before he’s hugging you. His arms wrap around your waist as he buries his face in your neck.

Matt had always been a big softie. No matter how much he loves to deny it he loves hugs and being all sappy and shit.

His own love language was acts of service though. He’d do anything for someone he likes.

And so if he finds a song that reminds him of you, he’ll tell you. If you are hungry, he’s immediately googling places to eat. If you look slightly sad or upset, even though you just have a resting bitch face, he’s immediately doing something stupid to make you laugh.

You know each other in and out.

He knows you love physical touch. So he’d make it a point to hug you at least once a day.

The day was long and draining. It was a normal boring school day.

His hug is warm, his arms feel firm around you.

And despite not having known him since kindergarten or something, it feels like you’ve known him forever.

You can’t think of any future scenario without him in your life.

“You always smell so good” he mumbles, dramatically nuzzling his face into the side of your neck.

You chuckle at the compliment.

“Come on pretty boy, we gotta study.” You hum slightly pulling away. Matt dramatically groans in response but reluctantly pulls away.

You pick up the two Pepsi cans and start to walk back to the stairs.

Matt grabs both of your school bags and carries them upstairs with him.

Once you’re in your room you pull out your desk chair and sit down.

Matt puts both your backpacks against the wall. He walks towards the bed to sit down when he spots your cat.

“Sunny” he exclaims excitedly. As much as Matt would love to say he’s a dog person. He loves your cat.

She’s and orange Persian cat. Her hair is fluffy and long. She looks like a ball of hair all curled up in your bedsheets like that.

You look over to matt and your bed. You watch as your cat looks up at him and he coos at her. He slowly sits down and starts to pet your cat.

★ ★ ★

By now two hours of studying had passed. You were both now sitting on the floor on your carpet, the study material all sprawled out across from you.

You and Matt were sitting next to each other, your cat still sleeping on your bed.

“Matt I’m bored” you whine loudly. You throw your head back dramatically and groan.

Matt looks over at you watching you as you complain. He looks mildly agitated himself.

Before he can protest and tell you that you two need to continue studying you start to put the pages and books on top of each other.

Once no books and loose papers are sprawled out anymore you sit back again.

“Y/n” he rolls his eyes and you can feel the lecture incoming.

“Matt please, I’m literally about to die of boredom.”

“You’re so dramatic” he scoffs watching you.

And for a moment You two just look at each other. Neither of you say anything. You just stare. Your face relaxes out of the pout. Matt looks over your features like he’s admiring you for the first time. Like you’re a piece of art.

You can feel yourself start to grow hot. The tension in the room skyrockets.

“You’re so pretty you know that,” Matt says under his breath. Matt leans over on his arm leaning closer to you.

Your mind is blank, and you can’t come up with an answer. You just take in the compliment.

“So fucking gorgeous” he sighs and before either of you knew it his lips are on yours.

You freeze for a second your eyes wide. But like it’s an instinct you immediately kiss back.

Matt’s hand finds its way to your jaw holding you in place, while he tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

You were sitting Chris-cross while Matt was sitting on his legs, sitting just a bit higher than you.

After a while of just innocently kissing, he pulls away. You two stay close though. His eyes instantly widen as if he knew he fucked up.

“Fuck- I’m sorry” he breaths out, taking his hand from your face.

You sit up. Uncrossing your legs. you shift to sit on them, fully facing a blushing Matt. And you’re sure you have a matching red hue on your cheeks as well.

“No.”

the statement catches Matt off guard. He immediately looks back over at you, confused.

As soon as he looks back over at you, you reconnect your lips with his. He sighs into the kiss. His open mouth grants you the opening you need as you swiftly slip your tongue into his mouth.

You’re a virgin. That doesn’t mean you’re fully inexperienced tho.

You two make out heavily for a while. Making out like you’re trying to feel every part of each other.

Somehow you ended up in a position with you straddling Matt, as he has his legs sprawled out.

You pull away, both of you breathing hard.

“Y/n..” Matt starts his voice shaky.

He averts his eyes, the blush on his cheeks and even deeper red than before.

“I’m a virgin” he admits under his breath.

You thought for sure that Matt wasn’t. You were. But you also never dated anyone. Matt used to have a girlfriend though. But he’d never done it?

“Like fully?” You ask out of curiosity.

But it wasn’t like you wanted to use him. You liked him for being, himself. His presence made you flustered, feeling butterflies in your stomach, and all giddy.

“Yeah” he breaths out. You watch him close his eyes as if willing his embarrassment to leave. “I’ve never, done anything..”

You pause thinking of the best way to reply. “Neither have I.” You say softly, feeling mildly flustered as well. But both of you were inexperienced. You were in the same boat.

He pauses for a second at the reply. It was obvious that he thought you at least had one body. He didn’t think you were a virgin too.

“You… you wanna try?” He questions. Now he looks a lot less embarrassed than he did just a few seconds ago.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “If you want to?”

He pulls you back in for another kiss by the back of your neck. The kiss is shorter and more reassuring.

Matt pulls out of the kiss his hands going to your waist “We can figure it out?” He asks hopefully.

You nod in agreement. You could feel Matt’s bulge through his pants with the way you were sitting. And you could feel yourself aching.

What’s the harm in trying. He’s your best friend after all. Besides you’d finally lose it, and to someone you trust.

You peck his lips briefly before you get up off of his lap.

Matt gets up off of the ground too. You pick up your cat and wake her in the process. She meows at you in annoyance before you chuckle and put her on the ground.

Matt opens the door as Sunny finally but reluctantly leaves the room.

You pull off your shirt tossing it away. Matt turns around to see you sitting on your bed with your top discarded, your bra in full view. His eyes widen.

He licks his lips, his eyes shamelessly tracing your body.

Matt comes to hover over you while you sit there. “You’re such a tease” he chuckles. He leans down to capture your lips in a brief kiss again.

It was like he couldn’t get enough of your lips.

“Get on the ground,” Matt says, his tone more demanding and rough with lust.

You obey. You slide off your bed, getting on your knees on the ground.

Matt tugs his shirt off throwing it off to the side. He unbuckles his belt and undoes the button and zipper on his jeans before finally sliding them off and tossing them away.

You curiously watch. The only men you’d seen in this position were in pornos. This though, was your best friend since middle school.

Sometimes you forgot he was an actual man with a dick and all.

And right now, seeing the imprint of his cock through his boxers felt surreal.

He starts to tug on his boxers. Your eyes go up to meet his. “Ever gotten your dick sucked?” You ask sarcastically to cover up how nervous you are.

“No.” He breaths out. While continuing to look down at you he finally pulls down his boxers. He tosses them away too.

Your eyes trail from his eyes to his lips, over his jawline and his chest, down to his dick. The dick that was rock hard and right in front of your face.

Your eyes widen, as you sit back your hands staying on your knees as you just stare.

His tip was the same red he had on his cheeks, leaking pre cum. He had a vain running up his shaft. You always thought that male body part was rather disgusting looking.

But the way Matt’s looks right now…

You don’t know if it’s just the burning lust running through your body. But you actually really wanted to taste that.

Your hand goes to cup his aching cock. He lets out a sharp sigh at the feeling. You touch it gently. You don’t move your hand and stay careful of your manicured nails.

“I don’t know what I’m doing” you breathe out. While you do, you gently start to move your hand up and down your length slowly jerking him off.

“I don’t either,” he tilts his head forwards closing his eyes for a secound. “Keep going we’ll figure it out,” Matt assures you.

His hand goes to the back of your head. His hand starts to smooth down your hair.

“C’mon baby, don’t be shy” he coos staring down at you. Matt looks down at you like he’s done this a billion times before when he claims he never had.

But you guess one of you at least had to pretend that you were understanding what you’re doing right now.

You lean forward leaving a tender kiss on the tip. You do what you think someone would do in this situation.

The way he shudders at the simple touch though, shows that he is in fact, not experienced.

In hindsight, you don’t know why you thought that he was experienced. You just assumed.

“You think this will fuck up our friendship?” You ask while still slowly jerking him off.

Matt’s breaths are slightly shaky, but he chuckles at the question.

“No. I won’t let it.” He huffs.

“So..” you pause your movements. You glance down at his dick and the way your manicured hand wraps around it. And how huge it looks.

You then look back up at him through your lashes. “How am I supposed to do this?” You ask uncertainly.

“I don’t know.” He pauses to lick his lips. The way you, his best friend, look up at him through your lashes like that, was making him even more aroused.

“Just do what you feel like. But be careful of your teeth.” He says slowly. he wasn’t even sure himself.

You raise your eyebrow at his vague response. Neither of you knew how to do it, so you might as well imitate the porn that you’ve watched.

You drag you tongue up his shaft, keeping your eyes locked on his. When you’re at the tip you lick up all the pre cum leaking. You keep eye contact with matt, and it was driving him crazy.

He lets out shaky breaths. He was clearly enjoying this.

You kiss his tip again, before wrapping your lips around his tip. You slowly swirl your tongue around it trying to see how he’ll react.

You watch him to see if he likes it or not.

“Yeah, like that,” he says under his breath staring down at you.

With his praise and encouragement, you start to take him further down your throat. Slowly and carefully.

Matt whispers praises into the quiet room. All of them go right to your core and boost your ego.

You eventually feel comfortable enough to bob your head. You were jerking off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You were bobbing your head at a rhythmic pace and hollowing out your cheeks occasionally.

“I’m close-“ Matt whines. He actually whines.

And that sound. The power you had to make him sound like that was making you feel even more confident.

You don’t slow down your pace. You just keep going.

Until matt puts your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He tugs on it hard, to keep you still. He starts at a gentle but fast pace.

You feel your eyes fog up. The constant hit to the back of your throat makes you gag slightly.

His pace starts to become more and more sloppy as the seconds pass though.

You feel his dick hit the back of your throat before you suddenly feel your mouth be filled.

You feel his sticky load shoot down your throat. He pants, pulling at your hair to pull you off.

You swallowed what you could. But still, you feel a bit of it roll down your chin.

“Sh, sorry no don’t cry.” He immediately panics cupping your face in his hands. He looks down at you, worried. As if he thinks he went too far.

He wipes away the tears. The tears that you hadn’t even noticed had fallen.

Sighing, you can’t help the smile that forms on your face. “I’m okay Matty” you breathe out softly. His facial expression visibly relaxes at the statement.

“I’m sorry if that was too hard”

“It wasn’t, you’re good.” You stand up.

You immediately go to undo your own jeans. You slip out of them, throwing them off to the side.

His eyes roam over your body. The air is thick, both of your bodies pulsing with pure lust and awe.

You watch as his half-hard dick gets hard again.

You chuckle at the reaction. You teasingly take your bra off. And once you unclasp it, it’s Thrown across the room to the rest of your clothes.

His eyes trail your body again. He can’t help himself at the way your boobs look. He’s always admired you from afar. He never thought he’d ever be able to see you like this.

Sure he had imagined you two together like this before, but he never thought he’d actually get to see it. Besides, the real thing, the euphoria, it all felt better than he could’ve ever thought.

“So pretty, baby” he sighs. His hand goes to your chest. you could tell he’d never done this before just by the way he touched you like you were fragile.

But neither of you knowing what you were doing only made this more thrilling.

His hands go to your waist as he pushes you back onto your bed. He hovers over you for a moment, before crashing his lips back onto yours.

You kiss back, but you mostly let him take the lead. After he breaks the kiss, You feel him start to trail his kisses down your jawline and neck, while needing your breast in his hand.

He sits up again putting his other hand on your chest and needing it too, watching the way his hands look wrapped around your tits.

He sighs getting off of you and between your legs.

“Tell me when it feels good, sweetheart, alright?” He hums. He pulls at your panties, taking them off and half-heartedly throwing them away.

His eyes stay locked on your pussy. He admires it, like it’s the first time he’s seen it, which it is.

He puts your legs over his shoulders to give himself a better angle. He uses his middle finger to brush through your folds experimentally, watching you in awe.

You sigh at the contact on your folds. You’ve never been touched there. But Matt’s touch felt so incredibly comforting and good.

Your core was aching, pulsing around nothing. And Matt watched.

After a moment he kissed just above your clit. Kissing a trail down to your clit, before harshly starting to suck on it.

Your moan tears through the room. You were startled by how bold and confident he acted.

He groans into your core at your taste on his tongue. The groan sends pleasure coursing through you and chills down your spine.

“Fuck- matt” you whine. Your thighs clench around his head trying to get him closer. Your hand finds its way to his hair tugging on it slightly.

Your other hand berries in the sheets, trying to find something to hold onto. “God- have you done this before?” You ask rhetorically not expecting an answer.

He licks a stripe up your folds and starts to move his tongue against your sensitive nub. You whine and he chuckles.

“No.” He mumbles against you in answer. You throw your head back in pleasure your eyes briefly closing.

You feel Matt pull at you, tilting his head slightly for a deeper angle.

He was eating you out like you were his last meal. But beyond that also like this would be the only time he got to taste your sweet juices.

“Matt, fuck yeah- just like that.” You keep praising him. You notice how it boosts his confidence and in turn, makes this even more pleasurable for you.

You feel a finger brush at your cunt. Before you feel it slide in. Your hand immediately tugs harder at his hair. Your back arches slightly as you throw your head back in pleasure.

He thrusts his middle finger in and out of your tight cunt. He was turning his hand slightly, twisting it and turning it to get a feel for your body and how you react. And to also make you loosen up a bit.

You whine in discomfort. Matt detaches his lips from your clit still hovering close though.

“You okay sweetheart?” He says lowly under his breath.

Your moaning was loud and echoing through the room.

You sit up in your forearms staring down at him and the way he was fingering you like that. Watching the way his finger disappeared in your tight cunt.

“I’m good”

The words come up a bit slurred. The pleasure of him finger fucking you like that, was making your head feel all fuzzy.

“Never fingered yourself, baby?” He asks teasingly. You watch him and the way he steadies himself on his other arm.

He readjusts his finger, curling it up roughly hitting your sweet spot right on.

The touch sends shivers of pleasure down your spine making you shut your eyes and throw your head back.

“Matt, matt-“ you chant his name like a prayer. It’s the only thing you can think of. Him. And only him. That’s all that’s relevant right now.

He slips his second finger into your soaked core with ease. You barely even notice the second finger added. Until he starts to scissor them apart to stretch your insides even further.

He keeps thrusting his fingers in and out of you harshly. Curling them at just the right spots to make your vision blur.

You lay back down fully, as he is now sitting up more.

“Yeah pretty girl, that feel good?” He asks. Your back arches and your mouth falls open in a silent moan.

He leans up further, your legs fall from his shoulders as he hovers over your lower body. He puts his whole hand on your lower stomach applying gentle pressure on it to keep you down on the bed.

“I’m close-“ you breathe out between loud moans.

“good girl, come for me.” You shudder at the pet name. Your thighs shake slightly at the burning intensity of his gaze and the way his fingers curl at just the right spots.

You squirm under his gaze. And suddenly you feel the intense knot in your stomach snap. You feel him continue to finger fuck you, while your entire body feels burning hot.

You feel so warm and overwhelmed by the euphoria flowing through your veins. It feels better than any high you have ever experienced. Not that you’ve experienced a lot.

Once you ride out your high you breathe hard. Your eyes stay closed as you lay back on your bed.

Matt gently pulls out his fingers, making you whine at the loss of contact.

He lays down on your duvet next to you, turns to his side, and watches you.

You also turn to face him after a moment. You two just look at each other.

Matt looks at you with such intense adoration and love, it’s crazy.

“You actually wanna loose your virginity now?” He asks gently. Ignoring the fact that he was rock-hard.

You two so far had only given each other pleasure, but you hadn’t lost your virginity yet.

“Yes” you breathe out. You feel ready now more than you ever have before. Especially if you get to lose it to matt.

He licks his lips looking over your face.

“I don’t have a condom.” He says simply looking back at you. He knew you weren’t on the pill. He’d be fine doing it some other day.

“That’s fine.” You say though , catching him off guard. How desperate do you have to be to let him raw dog it?

“You’re not on the pill tho?” He questions.

“I’m not” you confirm simply. He raises an eyebrow waiting for further explanation. “You can pull out or something.” You shrug.

“That sounds tacky.” He huffs a laugh at how ridiculous that sounds.

“Doesn’t matter, we’ll deal with that tomorrow morning. Just please fuck me?”

You think he’s going to refuse Until he suddenly pulls you on top of him. You sit on his torso for a moment before you get the memo.

“You want me to ride you?” You ask slowly.

“If you’re not comfortable we can switch?” He offers. But why would you decline to ride him?

You shake your head no, before starting to slide down on his torso feeling his length glide between your soaked folds.

“Can’t be that hard?” You question rather skeptically.

In your opinion matt didn’t seem small. Though you had nothing to compare it to. All the girls in porn seemed to struggle with something that looked as big as Matt.

So either this would be really hard or easy for you. But either way, you wanted to try.

“You’re okay, we’ll go slow” he chuckles at your nervousness but is secretly just as scared. “And I’ll help you.” He assures.

You lift yourself hovering over his crotch area. You take in a harsh breath grabbing his dick and hovering over it.

Matt’s hand goes to it too holding it up. While your hand goes to your cunt as you gently and slowly sink down on it.

You both moan at the contact. Getting in the tip was hard. But once that was in you felt like you could easily slide down the rest of it, not that it wouldn’t hurt.

Matt’s free hand goes to your waist, guiding you like he said he would.

“Doing so good, princess.” You whine at the praise, but ultimately slowly skink down further..

Matt keeps your movements steady as you keep doing your thing. His second hand also goes to your waist using it to steady your movements further.

“Fuck so big.” You moan. Your thighs tense as you pull it out slightly. You could feel the stretch burn.

“It’s okay sweetheart. you only got a couple inches left.” He assures you as he starts guiding you back lower on him. Your cunt was aching around him harshly.

“Fuck-“ you sigh. You can’t help yourself when you take one of his hands from your waist and interlock your hands. You need the moral support.

“Such a good girl,” Matt says as you start to gently bounce on what you have fit so far.

He was occasionally groaning. Your moans filled the room, the air in the room staying hot.

He squeezes your hand. You close your eyes at the mixture of pleasure and pain. When you close your eyes he lets his eyes wander down to where your bodies meet.

He’d never done this and this felt so incredibly good. The sight alone could make him come right then and there.

Matt wasn’t dumb, he knew he had quite the dick. It wasn’t small by any means. And he knew that. It was amusing Watching you struggle with what you had, knowing there were at least still 3 more inches to go.

“You okay?” He asks again just to make sure you are okay.

The pain had subsided and you felt the pleasure. Sure you could take more but you were nervous to. This wasn’t as easy as it looked or as You thought it’d be.

“I’m okay” you sigh. You keep yourself gently and slowly bouncing on the upper half of the length of his cock.

Matt knows you really well. And matt just knows you can take more than that, Despite being a virgin himself. It was just a gut feeling. “Baby, I’m gonna need you to bear with me alright?”

Before you can respond, his hand on your waist tightens, and he squeezes your hand that’s intertwined with his. He rams you down on his dick harshly, making you take it as much as you physically could.

Your legs tense up at the harsh treatment. Your eyes close as a moan is ripped out your lungs. You clench so unbelievably tight around him. And just the sight of himself buried so deep inside of you could have him come at the spot.

He groans at the feeling of it as well. “Good-“ he breathes out. “Such a good girl.”

He keeps his hand intertwined with yours for moral support. His hand trails from your waist over your side soothingly.

You sigh at the feeling of him being completely in you. It’s a foreign feeling. It just feels so full.

“I feel so fucking stuffed” you groan dramatically. You let your head hang forward your mouth open in a silent moan.

“Oh, you’re so gonna be stuffed” he huffs. And somehow, even though pregnancy and birth scares the hell out of you, this type of dirty talk was extremely hot to you.

You huff in response starting to grind into him. You grind on his dick, his Hand on your hips helping you as you slowly try to get used to the size.

You sigh pulling all of your hair back out of your face again. You readjust your legs, taking your hand out of Matt’s. You shift, leaning on your arms to lean back slightly.

You start to carefully ride him your moans and whines still audible. Your head is thrown back in pleasure.

Matt watches the way your body moves in awe. Groaning every so often when you clench around him.

His hand goes to rest over your lower stomach, his thumb goes to rub on your clit gently. “Matt.” You gasp at the sudden added pleasure.

You can’t help yourself when you lean back forward. You just really want to see Matt’s face while you ride him.

“So good for me baby, keep going” he encourages. And with his words, you readjust again now pulling out more and ramming yourself back down.

You feel the knot in your stomach get tighter. You feel really good riding him like this, listening to his mumbles of praise and encouragement.

You continue to bounce on him, now chasing your high. And the harsher you slam yourself down the louder you and matt get. The room is filled with your noises as well as skin clapping loudly, and your lewd wetness.

After a few seconds you feel the knot snap. You lean over him, your arms on either side of his head catching you. Your high feels incredible, the heat washing over you like a wave.

Matt’s hand on your waist gets bruisingly harsh. He holds you in place while he thrusts up into you. You whine at the way he fucks you through your high. He was chasing his own now.

“Where do you want it.” His breath is harsh. He choked out the words in his lust-filled voice. He wasn’t asking, he was demanding to know.

“Inside.” You grit out. You bite your lip harshly, feeling your high subside and overstimulation slowly take over.

Matt grunts an agreement and you feel his thrusts get more sloppy and harsh. Until he gives you one last thrust, finally stopping his movements. He pulls you down to sit on him while spurts of his release shoot up into you.

You were pulsing around him, practically milking him for all he’s got. “Such a good girl” matt breathes out. One of his hands goes to trail over your stomach slightly.

He feels the slight bulge in your stomach from his sheer size.

The idea that this is how you make children is crazy to you. And the fact that you just did that with your best friend.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks softly staring up at you lovingly.

“Warm” you respond truthfully. His sticky seed inside of you makes your core feel all warm, along with the fact that you haven’t gotten off of it yet.

“Do you regret it?” He asks gently. After all, you two were best friends, and he had just lost his virginity to you and also taken yours.

Despite being terrified of the fact that you let him raw dog this, you didn’t regret it. In fact, you felt content, you love matt dearly.

“No” you don’t hesitate. You never realized how much you love Matt. He was just always there with you, he was always your best friend. You couldn’t imagine a future without him.

“You’re paying for the plan b pill tho” you chuckle.

He huffs a laugh. you carefully lift yourself off of him feeling your combined juices leak. You can see Matt watching, his eyes focused on your pussy. Watching the way you’re filled to the brim.

You kneel next to him, as you watch him sit up. “Come on sweetheart let’s get you cleaned up.”

Masterlist

A/N: I know this isn’t the most original idea, but I haven’t read any ffs where both of them are virgins. But if there is one that’s similar to mine, just know it was not intentional. In that case, If someone gives me the @ I can credit them.

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturnioloos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangepepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo

3K notes · View notes

thebunnednun · 6 days

Text

Overworked

Pairing: Pro Hero! Katsuki Bakugou x Stressed! Reader

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

And you know what happens when you lie to Katsuki.

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

WC: 16,709

On with the show!!~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘🥰 🤬 Kat-Suki 🩷🧡 is calling…..’

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

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

“You look like you’re about to drop.”

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

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

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

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

“Hey, you there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“ ‘S fine with me.”

“K, bye.”

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

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘What the fuck?!’

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

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

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

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

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

This... this wasn’t right.

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

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

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

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

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

"BAM!"

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

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

Silence.

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

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

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

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

But… nothing.

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

Just you.

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

Did you kill someone?

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

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

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

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

‘What’s Katsuki gonna do?’

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

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

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

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

Your home.

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

But God, you were so done.

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

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

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

And then you felt it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fear, the relief, the utter confusion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wasn’t buying it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wasn’t giving you a choice.

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

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

There was no room for resistance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We should to check in on them—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘God, I love your heartbeat.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good choice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Since I met you.”

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

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

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

You could have his babies right here, right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you, dumbass.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

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

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

Sweet relief!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You snorted, shaking your head. “No.”

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

“Nope.”

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

“Also, no.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Always.

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

I own none of the images or art!!!

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

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

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

1K notes · View notes

on-the-clear-blue · 1 month

Text

Dead Man's Diner pt 2

Danny had to admit, Lunch Lady was an excellent teacher.

Sure they were blitzing though a cook book thst was more tape and hope the paper, but Danny was for once actually understanding and enjoying being taught.

Cracking an egg into a bowl, Danny held it close while whisking quickly, not fully incorporating the flour in his pancake batter before dumping a good sized dollop on the flat top, smiling from the brief sizzle that he heard.

There was a sudden cacophony sounds from the front of house (which was the dining area? He never knew that before) putting the flat top on low, Danny looked over to where Lunch Lady was floating only to find nothing.

Blinking a bit, Danny wiped his hands off OK his apron as he poked his head out, frowning at the diner car, "What was that..." his words were cut off by one of the blinds slats bending as if pried open, and as he squinted, Danny saw two figures watching from a distance ontop another rail car.

Vigilantes

Danny felt his heart flutter with excitement, while not as cool as maybe Martian Manhunter or StarFire (since y'know...fucking aliens, Space) the Gotham caped community were interesting, if only since Batman and his Flock were Sam's low key obsession, she had even gone out as Robin for multiple Halloweens, and don't even get him started on the fan theories about them all.

Smirking he tapped the bar, allowing thr blinds to snap closed, "Sam is so going to flip that I saw the Birds before her." Letting out a little giggled, Danny quickly swore as he smelt a bit of burning and rushed to flip his pancakes.

---

Tim was, in Dicks opinion, the most concerning member of the family, sure most days he gives of "miserable wet cat" energy but even then Dick had seen his little brother easily take down guys that even Bruce had trouble with.

That wasnt even touching on his um...mental quirks

The less he speaks of the time period between Bruce's and Kons deaths till their eventual return, the better.

Putting down the binoculars, Dick stole a glance over at Red Robin, who was frowning deeply at his wrist computer, scooting a little closer Dick leaned over to see what was happening, "Whatcha do~oing?"

So entranced by what he was reading Tim jumped a little, an elbow flying out to where Dicks face had been a second ago as he turned and glared.

"Don't...! Do that Wing! Ugh..." shaking his head as he let out a huff Tim took his eyes off the small monitor and looked up at the diner car, pointing at it as he spoke scornfuly.

"That place does not exist."

"Like, legally? I am sure Batburger doesn't either-"

"No." Tim said, cutting the older vigilante off, "It doesn't exist physically."

"Timmy..." Dick said as he ran through the protocols for when RedRobin got a little too many insane things in his head.

"Get that look off your face Wing, it really doesn't exist, like..." letting out a sigh, the teen tried to put his words right "Don't look straight at it but a bit to the side so it's to the side of your eye." Pointing to a middle distance a bit away from the diner cart, Dick sent a small frown at his brother but did as he was asked.

"Holy leaping lizards..." Tim, somehow, was right, since when Dick just looked about a few feet away from the diner, it started to waver turning...transparent? And a little blue? But when he looked at it closer it was just a normal, abet run down looking diner.

"Exactly, no need to bench me till Agent A stuffs me full of anti-psychotics!"

"That was one time Tim, and you were having a mental break down."

"I am not lying when I say we killed Santa Claus Dick!"

"Sure Tim...sure"

---

Danny drummed his fingers on the breakfast bar, nursing a cup of coffee as he waited for something to happen.

He knew thst he was being watched, he had a vague idea who was doing the watching, but was starting to get a bit bored waiting for them to get closer.

Pausing mid sip, a grin spread across Danny's lips, "Hey cart? Can you do something that might draw those guys over here? Let's get some customers!"

Some how, Danny's grin only grew at the rumble of the cart, and he xould hav sworn he heard a sound that was a mix between a train horn and a chuckle.

---

Tim shot his brother a stinging glare, swatting at his arm as he blushed, he did every much indeed accidentally killed Santa Claus and took an impromptu trip to Apokolips to give DarkSeid coal.

His next rebuttal to Nightwing was cut off as the diner cart shuddered as if it was in an earthquake before it stilled, and the banner that was across it suddenly gained a new line.

[JUST NOW! VIGILANTES AND HEROS GET ONE FREE SIDE OF FRIES! COME ON IN BEFORE THE OFFER ENDS!]

Tim was silent for a moment, watching the cart to see if there was any more changes before turning to Dick, who had lost the joyful energy that he always seemed to have.

"RR, plans changed, we are going to investigate inside."

Tim gave a sharp nod, his bo staff elongating as he grappled down to the train tracks below, his boots crunching gravel underfoot as he slipped from shadow to shadow, getting closer to Big C's diner.

---

Danny was in the back, flipping through his cook book as he heard a bell ring, jolting up, Danny could see through the service window and see who came in.

He had never met a real hero before, not like the two that had just came in, feeling nervous, Danny fumbled with a small notebook as he came out from the kitchen, grinning at the two Birds.

"Heya! Thanks for coming to Big C's! Names Danny and I am kinda the only one in today, what can I get you both?"

His eyes flickered between the two vigilantes, noticing new things each time he looked at them, like how Red Robin's cape had buttons instead of being sown on, or how Nightwings suit wasn't slick but actually textured.

---

Dick looked at everything he could as he stood in the diners door, it looked like a typical 50s styled mom and pop kinda place, an old radio buzzed with songs of a bygone era while the seats were cracked pink leather vinyl.

He could hear someone moving in the back, resting a hand on his eskrima sticks, Dick stalked further in, it felt real enough...

He could feel Red Robin knock into his back as the person from the back came into view, it was a teen, and holy hell did he look like Bruce Wayne adoption bait, raven hair, blue eyes and a cheesy looking grin.

He couldn't be older than Damian, who had turned 16 a few months ago, the teen was just so...tiny.

Danny, that's the name given to them, and Dick can see it, he looked like a Danny.

Pausing to look to Tim, Dick smiled back at the teen, "Well...can we see a menu?"

#dpxdc #dc x dp #danny is a little shit #he is just a little guy #tim drake #tim drake has problems #red robin #night wing #Dead Man's Diner #batman #bruce: what do you mean “we had to go in it offered us fries”#does this count as a coffeeshop au?#part 2 #tim drake is a menace

954 notes · View notes

beomcoups · 24 days

Text

Legal Briefs

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lawyer!Dokyeom x fem!reader 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: pwp, corporate au, 18+, non-idol au 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, riding, unprotected sex, cream pie, pet names, slight exhibitionism, oral (m. receiving), clit stimulation, squirting 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.1k 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Dokyeom is stressed out over his case, and you use your brain in more ways than one to help him relax.

AN: Thank you to @miabebe for beta reading this for me at the last minute and @miniseokminnies being lovely. This is a repost, as this fic was originally written for another idol. I have decided to edit it and make it fit Dokyeom more. I hope you enjoy it <3. Also, tagging @onlyseokmins because that's your man, duh, lol. If you want to be tagged in future fics, sign up here🤎

Dokyeom is one of the most prominent corporate lawyers in your country, and you understand how hard he works daily to maintain that reputation. You were a lawyer when you met him, so you know the ins and outs of the legalities and how stressful it can be defending clients. Your first time seeing him was at a kickboxing gym you both frequented and then on the opposite end of the court, duking it out to protect your clients involved in a breach of contract. You may have won that battle, but in the end, Dokyeom won your heart, and you left the corporate life behind to be a housewife.

You walk into the swanky thirty-floor office building, and the security guard greets you as you approach the elevator. You are holding Dokyeom’s favorite lunch, pizza with cheese sticks, secured in a heated lunch box. You also brought fruit and juice, which he has been into lately. It’s a nice day outside, and what would be better than spending lunch with your husband?

You hum your way up to the 20th floor, greeted by the receptionists as the elevator doors open. The anticipation is building, and the excitement and butterflies in your stomach are brewing as you make your way to his office. You speak to everyone that makes eye contact with you. Everyone knows you as the boss’s wife, a hotshot lawyer, giving it all up for love.

“Hi,” his secretary greets you nervously as you approach her desk. “He seems a bit stressed out today. That case with the pharmaceutical company isn’t going well, and I’m pretty sure I heard papers flying around.”

This concerns you, as it is different from Dokyeom to lose his cool like that. You thank her and tap quietly on the office door, waiting to hear his voice before entering.

“Yes?” His smooth voice makes your heart jump.

You open the door, and your eyes widen at the scene before you. There are papers and folders all over the floor. Dokyeom is lying on the sofa, his suit jacket covering his face and his arms folded on his chest.

“I take it you’re having a bad day?” You ask gently, setting the lunch down on his desk.

His face lights up when he lays his eyes on you, jacket falling to the floor as he jumps up to greet you.

“I wasn’t expecting you here,” he replies before getting up and kissing your cheek. “I would’ve cleaned up.”

“And miss all this drama?” you tease him. “Come on, I’ll help you put everything back.”

You survey the papers and put the files back in their folders. You know where everything goes because you helped him set up his file system to make his life easier. You may not be practicing law right now, but it doesn’t mean you haven’t had to use your expertise a few times to help your husband win a few cases. You initially quit your previous firm because you felt burnt out and needed a break. Then, when you got married, you wanted to spend time being a new wife and try for a family. Dokyeom supported you in all of that. He never made you feel inferior or less than for stepping away from your career to be at home. Now, it’s been two years, and the children haven’t come yet, but maybe it’s just not time, as lately, you have been missing practicing law.

Dokyeom helps you and profusely apologizes. “You don’t need to apologize,” you wave him off. But this is not like you; what happened?”

His expression changes, his eyebrows furrowing with worry. He takes a deep breath before putting the last envelope into the bookshelf.

“I am missing a critical piece of evidence, a part of a contract that proves my client’s innocence,” Dokyeom begins, clutching onto the desk. “I know who to subpoena, but the judge is being a real asshole and won’t allow me to access those documents. So my client might lose, and then they’ll drop me, which means bye to our house.”

He removes his tie and takes a sip from his water bottle, his Adam's apple shifting as he gulps. Your very frustrated husband is also very hot, and it’s taking all your willpower to stay on task.

“Listen,” you redirect your focus to his problem. “There’s no guarantee that you will lose this case, and we definitely are not losing our house. Why don’t you eat the lunch I brought, and we will figure it out, okay?”

He nods and kisses you on the forehead, his way of saying thank you that still makes you feel warm inside. You watch him take out his lunch, and you start to eat yours, making small talk about your day as you dig through the cheese sticks.

“When did you order this, babe?” Dokyeom asks, mouth stuffed with pepperoni and cheese. “You were cleaning up when I left for work.”

“I ordered it right before I came up here,” you say proudly, feeding him some of your pizza. “I got tired of eating lunch alone and wanted to see you. Looks like you needed me too.”

He gives you a kind smile that soothes your soul like a warm hug. You talk more about the case as you clear out your food containers. Dokyeom mentions that he has been trying to get the evidence to no avail for the past week. Watching him stressing himself out bothers you, as you know how hard he has worked on this case, and you want to see him succeed. His eyes were glued to the papers in front of him, skimming over everything to find a possible loophole. You can’t help but take in how handsome he looks, focused on his work, his jaw clenching as his frustration mounts.

So, you came up with an idea.

“Hey, babe,” you get his attention, removing your cardigan. “I’m going to help you relax, okay?”

He nods, his shoulders still tense up from reading over the paperwork. You move behind him, relaxing your hands on his shoulders before you massage them, making him feel more at ease. You start unbuttoning his shirt, reaching down to rub his chest while leaving kisses on his neck.

“Well, this is one way to do it,” Dokyeom hums, setting down his pen. He moves his head and kisses you deeply, his hands gracing your face softly, pulling you deeper into his rapture of love. You make a move to sit on his lap, taking off your tank top and exposing your favorite bra that pushes up your breasts just right.

“Was this always the plan?” He smirks, leaving kisses down your neck. His lips suck on your sweet-tasting skin, his tongue trailing down to the valley of your breasts.

“And if it was?” You move in front of him, sitting on his lap, and your skirt hikes over your hips. “What are you going to do about it?”

He chuckles and kisses you more, removing your bra and throwing it across the office. You lift and reach down, undoing his pants and lowering his briefs, feeling the growing bulge hardening along your slit. “No panties? Aw, baby…”

“What?” You smiled coyly. “Do you want me to leave? I can just get up—”

“W-what? No, no, it’s not that,” his cheeks turn pink in a panic. “I hate to rush, but I have to be in a meeting in twenty minutes,” Dokyeom’s breathing hitches as his hand touches his manhood, stroking his thick girth to your naked breasts and exposed ass. You lower yourself until you are on your knees, moving his hand away as you take over. You kiss his dick just the way he likes it, his legs tensing up as you take him in your mouth. His thickness takes over your mouth as you suck him good, your free hand playing with your clit as you watch him cock his head back and curse softly.

“Baby, you are so good at this,” he murmurs. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

He gently fucks your face, pacing himself so he doesn’t blow his entire load down your throat. Your eyes lock with his as you take him in deeper, drops of saliva spilling out of the corner of your mouth. Dokyeom is ashamed to admit it, but he likes it when you look like this: the makeup on your sweet face ruined with tears because you sucked him off so well. You would never tell him this, but you love how he tastes. The way his smooth cock hits the back of your throat makes you dripping wet, and if you keep up any longer, you will cum on this floor.

“H-honey,” he sputters. “I have 15 minutes. Get on top.”

You slowly take him out of your mouth with a pop, lifting yourself and positioning yourself to sink into him. You both groan in unison when you are entirely on his lap, your nails digging into the armrest of his chair.

“This won’t take long, I promise,” you mutter, giving yourself a few seconds to get used to his size before slowly grinding on him and enjoying the feeling of him being inside of you. His body tenses at your movements and his fingers massage your clit softly. You unexpectedly let out a loud moan, and he covers your mouth with his hand.

“I know this feels good, bouncing on my hard dick, but you are going to have to keep it down, princess,” he grits.

Dokyeom knows what that does to you, calling you princess as he fucks you into an earth-shattering orgasm. You’re a squirter, and he knows that, so it was unsurprising that your lower halves were covered with your essence. Your eyes never leave each other, whispering I love you and trading meaningful kisses. Dokyeom’s head rolls back, whispering songs of praise as you continue to ride him on his office chair.

“Baby, I’m close,” he whines, his hands gripping your hips. You grind on him hard, finding your clit and releasing again shortly after. Dokyeom follows right behind you, spilling deep inside of you as his head buries deep into your neck. As he slows down, he kisses you lovingly, making sure your cunt is full of his cum before pulling out. You're still trying to catch your breath when you climb off of him to clean yourself up.

“Mr Lee?” His secretary’s voice booms through the speaker, startling you both. “Your meeting starts in five minutes.”

“O-okay.”

You can see the time on his laptop, and the 5-minute reminder before the meeting stops flashing wildly on his screen. You find your bra and hurriedly put it on, with Dokyeom already dressed and holding your tank top and cardigan.

“What?” You catch him staring at you curiously.

“You are so bad.” “Well, isn’t that why you fell in love with me? Aside from me beating your ass in court, of course.”

You finish getting dressed, helping him put his tie back on, and kissing him goodbye before heading out the door. You catch a photo you missed picking up earlier, and something catches your eye that makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“Babe.” You pick up the photograph and inspect it thoroughly. “What’s the name of the judge?”

“Judge Choi,” he responds, preparing himself for his meeting. “Why?”

“This wouldn’t happen to be the judge in the 17th court, would it?

You pull out your phone and look him up, confirming your suspicions.

“Okay, I know that look,” Dokyeom comments, a puzzled look on his face. “What’s up?”

“This judge used to give me shit when I was practicing, but I always found a way to get around him,” you start. “There was talk about him being a crooked judge and being paid off by companies, but I could never confirm it until now. Look at the picture.”

You show him the photograph of the rival company at an event, pointing at the missing piece of the puzzle: the judge and the company’s CEO, arm in arm, taking a picture. “That’s why the judge is shutting you down, babe,” you confirm. “He has ties to the other guys. Judge Choi should have recused himself a long time ago.”

Dokyeom looks at you, amazed that his wife could figure out why he had this roadblock. “God, what would I do without you?”

“You’d still be losing to me in court.” You kiss him goodbye again, letting him prepare to attend his meeting. You close the door, and his secretary smiles at you and motions for you to come closer to her.

“You should be more careful in there, dear,” she advises. “The whole office heard you.”

732 notes · View notes

simpee9000 · 23 days

Text

Not Just Friends - 10 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Part 9 : Words 3.1k

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

It was a turn back to normal after the long conversation between the two of you. Tears sliding down your faces, majority yours but you saw a couple fall from his. It was a necessary conversation. He opened up about his quirk and apologized for ditching you. You apologize for the same.

Easily enough, the two of you moved on from it quickly. Talking about the past two months when all the overwhelming emotions passed. You blabbed about how many new offers you were getting and he talked about how he was hiring more and more people to his agency.

Despite not being able to ignore the last two months, it was easy to move past.

Growing past it within the night, having everything off your chest. It still didn't make things go back to normal.

You continued to share a bed, but changed your schedules around again to see more of each other. Flipping back into your old routine as much as possible. Not without a few changes though. Lunches would only be once a week rather than daily, and you'd be working for another hour or two after he got home. Since you wanted to sleep in still.

But it still improved your relationship again. Building it back up slowly. You were able to eat a late dinner together each night and share an off day. Sharing your off day made it easier for you anyway. After the break-in it was hard to be home without him, so the last two months were rough. Your therapist said you were doing great though, so that helped.

The first days of going back to normal was rough, having to adjust to seeing each other daily again. Conversations between the two of you felt awkward, mainly on your side. You grew so much in those two months, no longer relying on him. It shifted the dynamic.

"Y'good?" Katsuki's gruff voice broke your train of thought. Your eyes flickered up to him.

"Huh?"

"Been fuckin' playin' with your food," he points his fork at your plate, "Don't like it or some shit?"

"No, I like it," you looked back down. It was definitely not your favorite meal he made, but it was good.

His silverware claddered roughly against his plate, his arms crossing, "The fuck has been wrong with you?"

"Do you have to swear with every sentence?" you avoided, taking a bite of your food instead.

You could feel him roll his eyes along with his heavy sigh, "You've been off since."

"A relationship doesn't heal just like that," you pointed out.

"Will you look at me?" he asked annoyed. A glance up at his expression made you cut your attitude. He was trying, that much was obvious. And after all your talk of communication, you were doing nothing.

"Sorry," you set your fork down, engaging in the conversation, "I'm just lost? I guess. Hard to place it. I've changed a lot in the past two months-"

"How?"

You glared at him for interrupting you. "I've stopped prioritizing you. I'm more focused on myself now. It's hard to go back to normal when the 'normal,' was me running circles around you."

He shuffled in his seat, "That's fine. I'm glad you've moved on in that sense, done you good."

"You're not worried how it'll change us?" you asked softly, it's been all you were thinking of for the past few weeks.

"I'm always fuckin' worried," he admitted, eyes drifting to look at the wall instead of you, "But we'll work it out."

You were glad he still viewed the two of you as a 'we,' heart melting slightly as you reached your hand across the table. "I'm not going to tip-toe around you anymore, Kats."

"Good," he gruffed out, uncrossing his arms and grabbing onto your hand. Changing his focus onto that, "I don't want you to."

"Good," you agreed, smiling at how he let his thumb trace over your knuckles.

"You, um," he fumbled for a minute, eyebrows furrowing, "You're still okay with us not doing shit right?"

"I'd never push that," you confirmed, shocked he even thought you would complain about that.

"Don't get me wrong, I would, just-" he pulled his hands back wiping them on his pants before running them down his face, "my dumb fuckin' quirk."

"You love your quirk," you pointed out.

"Yeah and I'd fuckin' love to touch my girlfriend but no, I gotta be a horny virgin 'cause of it," he groaned, crossing his arms again.

Stifling a laugh was difficult, but you managed, "Maybe we can just work up to it? Get you used to the baseline first before, that."

His quirk went off suddenly, "Can't even fuckin' think of it," he groaned, standing up to go wash his hands off.

"It's cute." You followed behind him to place dishes in the skin, having cleared your plates a while ago.

"Fuck you."

"Hey," you laughed, "At least you can tell Denki and Sero that you beat them at No Nut November. And have for the past 19 years."

He shot you a glare from the sink, "The one challenge I wouldn't want to beat, great."

"It's what makes you number one to me, baby," you teased, kissing his shoulder as you moved past him, wanting to pester him while the mood was light and he was already flustered. It was nice how easy it was to move past something with him. But you wanted to test how much he'd react to you not tiptoeing around him anymore.

With success, his quirk popped off again.

"Fuck off."

You let out a crackle of laughter, "You're too easy."

"Die."

He finally stopped washing his hands, turning to dry them off. You watched from the counter, plotting. "Your back looks nice," you commented, his muscles have been more defined lately and you only got to appreciate it now. His tank top showcases his shoulders nicely.

He froze for a moment, side-eyeing you. "Do you want to get blown up or something?"

"No, do you want to get blown?" you asked back, letting Denki's crude humor influence you.

Like a charm, his quirk sparked off. "Quit it."

"Nah, it's too much fun," you smiled at him, kicking off the counter you were leaning on and moving to leave the kitchen. Hand squeezing his bicep when you walked by.

He didn't let you get even a step away before he grabbed your hand and pulled you into him. His hands grabbing at your hips and moving to push you into the counter. "Where do y'think you're goin'?" he smirked down at you.

Your face bloomed a deep shade, blushing harshly at how close he was. He hasn't been that close since you argued two months ago.

"Nothin' to say?"

You blinked up at him, trying to steady the rapid beating of your heart with the way he was tracing circles onto your hips.

"Might like you but that doesn't mean I'll let you say shit and get away with it," he crowded you closer to the counter.

"What happened to your quirk?" you whispered, losing your voice at the proximity.

"You offered to work up to it, right?" he brushed his hands clean on his shirt briefly before going back to your hips.

"Yeah," you looked down at his hands, trying to make sure the watch was off.

"It's off," he confirmed, twisting his wrist so you could see. When you looked back up at him, he held his gaze deeply, "What happened to that smart mouth?"

"Want me to show you?" you placed your hands on his chest, running over the span of his shoulders. Your body was on fire, the two of you flirted, sure, but this was different. His quirk was fully there. He was fully there.

His eyes lidded slightly, zeroing in his focus on your lips, "Fuck yeah I do."

Your lips closed the gap between the two of you. It wasn't as soft and nervous as all the past kisses, it was something you just threw yourself in. Stomach crazy with butterflies as your mind started buzzing. His hands tightened their grip on your hips as he stepped even closer to you.

Bodies curled into each other to get closer. Your hands digging into the hair at the base of his neck as you deepened the kiss. Full of passion and sexual tension. There was hardly any innocence to the kiss, and if there was, it faded within seconds.

A sigh of relief falling from your lips when his hands slipped under your shirt, brushing over your skin roughly. Fingers being callused and dry from work.

As soon as his hands met your skin he pulled away frantically. Pulling his body from yours completely before his quirk started popping off.

"Fuck me," he groaned in frustration, grabbing a dish towel and wiping his hands off.

"I wish I could," you teased.

He shot you a glare, blush flaring all over his face and coating his neck with a red. "Stop," he grumbled.

"Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like that," he shied away, washing his hands in water for a moment.

You paused for a moment, considering how you looked. With how flushed his face was you could tell you were no better. Lips plumped and freshly kissed red as your shirt was ruffled up from his hands as you leaned back into the counter. "Why would I? You clearly like what you see?"

The confidence within you came from nowhere. There has been sexual tension between the two of you before, many times before. Even before he had the watch. But normally you had to be drunk as hell to make such obvious jokes towards him, especially ones about sex. Maybe it was the fact that it was on the table, when before it wasn't. You knew he wanted it as much as you did.

"Fuck off," he grumbled.

"Come on, Kats," you pushed your luck.

"I love you, but please stop whatever the fuck you're doing before we need a new apartment," he spoke without thought, freezing the second he realized what he said.

You barked out a laugh, he spoke so plainly. You didn't want him to get wrapped up in his head, so you ignored the rushing butterflies over his admissions. "Fine, fine," you gave in, smiling happily at him, "Hug?"

He looked at you, untrusting of you before he opened his arms, gesturing you near.

Taking the moment, you threw yourself in his arms. Wrapping your arms around his waist he pulled you in fully. Letting you rest your head on his chest as he rested his on yours.

Everything felt secure in your relationship, you'd move one step at a time together. With a lot of teasing between, but that was common between you and him, despite the lack of it lately.

"I love you too, by the way," you mumbled into his chest, having a happy feeling travel through your body at the small number of times he's actually said it.

"I know."

You moved slightly to look up at him, his eyes fell on yours before you spoke, "Are you hard?"

He glared sharply, embarrassment covering his features as you felt him grow hot. You were going to ignore the feeling of him pressing into your lower stomach, but decided you wanted the chance to rub it in his face that you have the upper hand here. He tried to pull away, only for you to keep your grip.

"Stop," he warned, his hands raised away from you.

"It's only a little spark, Kats," you tried to comfort.

With a roll of his eyes he smiled evilly down at you, "You asked for it," before you could protest, he wiped his sweaty hands on your face before rubbing the rest of it off on your sweater, down your chest.

"Katsuki! That's gross," you pulled away from him, using your sleeve to wipe away the damp residue of his sweat off your cheek before you pulled the bottom of your shirt out, seeing if he got sweat marks on it. "You just used that as an excuse to touch my tits," you glared at him, seeing the faint marks of his handprint on your shirt, right over your tits. It surprised you that he sweat enough to leave a mark.

He laughed sharply, walking out of the kitchen, "Got no proof, Brains."

"I literally have the proof of your hands on my tits," you called out to him.

He looked over you, "How do I know those are mine?"

"Really? Cause I'd let a random guy grope me and he'd be sweaty enough to leave a mark like you do," you snarked.

"No way to know," he shrugged.

"You're such an ass," you groaned.

His phone buzzing loudly cut off his laughter.

"This late?" you asked as you eyed his work phone.

"It's PR," he said as he furrowed his brows, answering the phone, "Dynamight."

You heard mumbling for a moment before he huffed and put his phone on speaker. "Can she hear me now?" the lady's voice rang through, the same manager you've spoken with before.

"Hello," you answered for him, "What can I do?"

"You've done quite enough," she spoke abruptly. It took a lot to get her mad, so to have pissed her off five words was a record. "People are spreading pictures of you crying in the middle of the street."

Katsuki's eyes shot to you, concerned.

"They also claim to of heard you talking to Deku, saying you said his name several times."

His concerned look turned to a glare quickly.

"I can explain that," you said quickly before Katsuki added his two cents, "I was having a rough time and decided to call a friend, simple."

She laughed, "It's not the simple. It was the night of your party. And with the lack of social outings between Dynamight and you, people are saying the two of you broken up."

"Why does this matter?" you asked annoyed. It was still a sore subject.

"It matters because bad things are being said about the two of you. It's not just Dynamight's image anymore, but yours too. They're saying he's abusive while also saying that you're sleeping your way to the top."

You've heard that said too many times to count. Both things. So filled with anger, you grabbed the phone from Katsuki's hand and hung up.

"The fuck?"

"I don't know! I'm annoyed," you huffed, tossing his phone onto the couch before pacing, "I'm sick of people talking."

"I get it's annoying but you're gonna hear it-"

"Not helping," you glared at him.

"PR helps get them to knock it off," he pushed.

"She hardly says anything but the obvious," you rolled your eyes, "We can just post a picture of us or something."

"How does that prove I don't hit you?"

You paused your pacing, "Under a truth quirk I said the worst thing about you was your socks. I think if you abused me I would have said that."

He gave up his fight with a shrug, moving to sit on the couch instead.

"Don't get me wrong, it pisses me off that they say that. There is just no way to prove otherwise. Nothing is ever enough for them," you corrected, not wanting him to get the idea that you were only concerned for yourself.

"If you think that, why are you so pissed right now?" he crossed his arms.

You shook your eyes off the flex of his arms, throwing your hands up in frustration, "Because everyone says that, I hate hearing it."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone thinks you hit me or some bullshit," you huff.

"Everyone?"

"Like people that don't know you," you changed, "you're a softy and they ignore it.

"Who you callin soft?" he sat up straight.

You smiled at him, "Kats, you can't even look mad at me."

He glared at you, eyebrows being the only thing supporting it. His eyes were soft. "Die."

"Let's just forget about it," you sighed, not wanting to talk about the press or your relationship. Nothing stressful.

"Why were you even cryin' to Deku?"

"You," you admitted shamefully, looking away. Talking about this would be stressful.

When he said nothing, you turned back to him. He was staring out the window. The view was filled with city lights.

"I only called him 'cause I couldn't call you," you comforted, stepping closer to him.

"Could always call me," he spoke softly.

"Kats," at this point you were standing right in front of him

"Yeah?"

You swallowed quickly, "We don't need to do everything together."

He took a deep breath, "I know, just want you to know you can call me, no matter what."

"I already know that," you smiled fondly at him. It was one of the best things about him. No matter how mad he was at a friend or family, he would never ignore them if they needed anything, even a random call. He might ignore a stupid text, but he never missed a call from someone close to him.

"Good."

"Maybe," he looked up at you, "We don't do anything publically? If they think I'm dating you then good, if they think I'm not, I don't care."

"If you want," he shrugged.

"You don't mind?" you step closer to him, him making space for you by manspreading further.

"Not really, just don't go making 'em think you're dating that damn nerd."

"Okay."

"Want somethin'?" he looked at you with a brow up. His eyes flickering from your chest to your face.

"Seems like you do," you smiled, inviting yourself more into his personal space by straddling him, both knees by his side.

"What are you doing?" his hands were pushed outwards, far from you.

"It's fine," you hushed him, sitting your weight on his lap.

"We didn't even do this stuff with the watch," he hissed at you, face flushed.

"Yes we did," you looked at him confused, "I made you cum y-"

"Shut it," he huffed, hands popping with the sound of his quirk, "Get off."

"Look, if you really want to, I will, but I don't think you want me to," you didn't want to force him into anything.

"What even put you in this mood?" he glared at you.

"You looked at my tits," you shrugged.

"Cause you still have my handprint on em," he smirked proudly.

You looked down at them quickly, "Bakugo."

"What? It's how it should be."

"Will it stain?"

"Shouldn't."

"I hate you," you glared at him.

"Sure, cause one glance at your tits makes you wanna jump me, cause you hate me," he was too cocky.

"Shut up you can hardly kiss me without losing your mind," you fought back.

"Kissed ya earlier didn't I?"

"Barely, come on, kiss me like a man-"

Forgetting his prior reluctance, he pulled you into him. Connecting your lips in a messy kiss as his hand held you to him by the back of your neck. Slowly losing its grip before sliding down to your waist. Losing himself into the kiss just as you were.

You were shocked he was even kissing you, cherishing the win regardless. Moving more onto him. Wrapping your arms around him, scratching at his scalp as you pulled on his hair.

The groan that left his lips encouraged you to push down more in his lap, wanting something more. You could never get enough of him. Anything he'd give, you'd take.

A rough push of yourself onto him caused his quirk to go off, not just a small spark either.

It singed your top, burning your skin.

You jumped off his lap once he let go, holding your sides.

His hand was placed right over your old scar.

Posted late cause I forgot to finish the chapter, and the tag list is being a bitch rn. (phone is glitching and laptop is weird) if it's fucked up mb.

---

-Next Part-

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

@supersecretsamm @maeveorsomethinggg @zoast32 @54fangirl @ellielover69 @aomi04 @mithicakurogo @ez4raa @suki0 @wildernessflora @dumbbitchenergy17 @schniti-is-in-the-house @xbieditz @poemzcheng @jaxyy219 @truwaifu @111june111 @eyesforbkg @mushroomsneedystuff @kazuumii @keiva1000 @atashiboba @ofcqdesi @americasass1942 @kaboomkayla @ilovedenk-i @iamyoursonly @albakugo @fairiesgloss @limitedstar @i-bitch-you-bitch @drageonix24 @sinyaaa @oddball08 @imsuperawkward @lomlchi @anime-manga-fanatic @irlpadfoot @chocoyanchan @gollumsmygel @yuptha-tsme @icedemon1314 @alstrums @andysdrafts @your-mum3000

559 notes · View notes

angelwings-crossbowstrings · 1 year

Text

Skin You With My Tongue

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Poorly written smut, p in v, fingering, oral (fem rec), brief hand job

Summary: What has gotten into Daryl? It doesn’t matter because you like it!

A/N: I haven’t been feeling great but I wanted to finish this before taking a break. Then I’ll work on my last request. Once again, I don’t think it’s great but ah well. I’m trying to just be thankful to be writing again. I hope some enjoyment comes from it!

*gif is not mine

You had no idea how you’d ended up in your current predicament: flat on your back, naked, with an equally naked Daryl Dixon devouring you like a man starved. You weren’t complaining by any stretch of the imagination. Though he had claimed to have little experience, the man deserved medals for the sounds he was wringing out of you with his tongue.

Anyway, back to the question of how did you end up here?

The day had started like any other. Your group was still new to Alexandria. While most had been given jobs, you and Daryl had not yet been set to work by Deanna. So, Rick had easily agreed to letting you both go hunt. Daryl had refused to give up his crossbow when you had first arrived in the community, but you had to sign out a weapon.

“Bullshit.” Daryl growled from where he leaned against the doorframe of the armory. You couldn’t say that you didn’t agree with him.

Regardless, you played by the rules, got your gun, strapped the weapons to the back, and climbed onto Daryl’s bike. He had decided the two of you could go further out today, not having much luck the past couple of days in the direct vicinity.

Daryl was your closest friend in your tight knit group and had been since you all had been forced to wander around in the cold before the prison. He was difficult to read and his emotional walls were high and thick. Somehow, you had been able to scale those walls, if not shatter them completely. You accepted him without question but you didn’t take any shit from him either. You weren’t afraid to call him out. In fact, the first time he had willingly come to sit next to you by the fire was just after you had asked him if he was “violating the Georgia sodomy law by having his head that far up his own ass.” You’d been close ever since.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his stomach and rested your chin on his shoulder, making kissy noises at him when he glanced back at you.

“Stop.” He grumbled before starting up the motorcycle. You simply gave his midsection a squeeze and could practically feel him roll his eyes as you headed through the gate.

The first part of the day was uneventful. Daryl stashed the bike before you walked and walked, finding nothing to track. About midday, the two of you came across a gorgeous lake. The water was clear and having only crossed two walkers on your trek there, you decided that a swim was an excellent idea after lunch. You didn’t ask Daryl, truly figuring he wouldn’t mind and that, hell, maybe he’d even join you.

You didn’t look at him as you stripped down to your bra and panties, mismatched as they were. If you had, you would have seen him comically fumble and drop the piece of dried meat in his hand.

“The blue hell ya doin’, girl?” He snapped after righting himself.

“Cooling off.” You gave him a smile over your shoulder before mimicking his frown with added exaggeration. “Maybe you should do the same, you old grump.”

He scoffed, keeping his eyes averted. “You’re bein’ careless. Careless gets ya dead.”

“I’m not going in unprotected!” You spun toward him, drawing his gaze toward you before pointing to the small knife tucked securely between your breasts. You couldn’t help but laugh when his face reddened and he looked away so quickly that you could swear you heard his neck crack. “I won’t be long.”

And you weren’t. Barely twenty minutes later, you were sitting down next to him, fully clothed albeit damp, but feeling much better.

“Ready to head out?” You asked cheerfully.

He did not share your enthusiasm, scowling as he stood and secured his crossbow to his back. “Been ready.”

“Well, aren’t you just a bucket of sunshine?” He had already stalked off by the time you gathered up everything. You had to sprint to catch up.

After a couple of hours, Daryl finally caught the trail of a deer and began tracking it. You followed quietly, watching his methods and learning everything you could. You knew how to hunt, thanks to him, but you were always eager to sharpen your skills. When the animal was finally within sight, the archer kneeled after signaling for you to stand still just beside him. He was lining up the shot when something caught his eye to the right of where you stood.

“Get down!” He whispered sharply, grabbing your arm and pulling. The sudden jerk caught you off guard and you were thrown off balance, crashing into him. He fell flat on his back with you on top, your palms on either side of his head with your chest almost directly in his face. With half a dozen walkers shuffling into the area, you couldn’t move lest you be detected.

The deer sensed the danger and ran, the group of undead following mindlessly. As they passed where you and Daryl hid, you instinctively lowered, feeling his breath against your shirt. It took several minutes for the threat to move far enough away that you felt comfortable to lift yourself up and sit back, effectively placing your ass on his stomach.

“Well, that sucks. That was a big doe.” You complained. When he didn’t comment, you looked at him. He was propped up on his elbows, looking anywhere but at you. His face and neck were flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. “You okay?” You queried with general concern.

“M’fine. Can ya get offa me?”

“Oh. Right.” You stood quickly, as did he. His back was quickly turned to you.

“We’re done. Let’s go.”

Your head tilted, brow creased in confusion. “We’ve got hours of daylight left. Shouldn’t we—”

“Said we’re done.” He was already walking away, leaving you staring at his back and wondering what you’d done wrong.

The ride back was tense and silent. You even chose to just lightly place your hands below his ribs and keep some space between your bodies instead of how you would usually have a tight hold on him.

When you entered Alexandria, Daryl parked the bike and got off, leaving you there, confused and more than a little upset. He passed Rick by without a word, the former sheriff turning to look at you with an eyebrow cocked. You gave him a shrug.

“I have no idea.” Shaking your head, you grabbed the gun from where it was secured to the back and went to sign it in before returning to the home you shared with Daryl and Carol. He was nowhere to be found on the first floor, leaving you to assume he had retreated to his room in the basement. With a heavy sigh, you went upstairs to shower.

Evening was upon you before you knew it, the sun having only set a few minutes before Carol invited you to walk to the other house for dinner with the group. You weren’t feeling all that hungry so you told her you’d be there in a few minutes. It was a lie. You had no intention of leaving your room.

Turning over onto your side, you closed your eyes. You had just drifted off when there came another knock. “Ugh.” You groaned and threw back the blankets, remaining in just your tank top and underwear since you didn’t plan on leaving with her. “Carol, I really don’t—” Once the door opened, you screeched to a halt, meeting the impossibly blue eyes of your favorite bowman. “Daryl.” You blinked at him blankly.

“Hi.” He nearly whispered. “Can I, uh—?” He gave a vague motion toward the inside of your room.

“Right. Uh, yeah, right, sure.” You stammered while stepping aside. He stepped in and you turned to push the door closed, a gasp leaving your mouth when you felt him press himself against your back. “D-Daryl?”

“First, the lake. Then your tits in my face when the walkers came. An’ now—this?” His finger was tracing the outline of your panties over your hip.

“What? I didn’t—”

He growled, a low sound in his throat, as he spun you around and pressed you back against the door with his body. He grabbed your chin to force your gaze on him.

“Didn’t what? G’on. Tell me.”

“Daryl, I didn’t mean anything by any of that.” You gulped, though you weren’t afraid. Exactly the opposite. Heat and wetness was pooling at your core, your skin feeling electrified where he was touching you. Nevertheless, you couldn’t lie to him. “I really wasn’t trying to fuck with you, I swear.”

There was an instant change in his eyes and it broke your heart. He released you with a muttered “shit,” his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. The dim light of your bedside lamp was enough for you to see his face reddening and the slight tremble to his frame.

“Y/N, I—fuck—m’sorry.” He quickly attempted to sidestep you and reached for the doorknob, but you were faster and blocked his path. His head shot up, eyes wide and panicked. He had absolutely misread the day’s happenings but he wasn’t wrong on one thing.

“I wasn’t intentionally fucking with you.” You repeated, your tongue snaking out to wet your lips before you continued. “But I would have if I had known it’d end with you here like this.” His arm dropped away from the knob and you entered into his space, pressing your chest against him to hover your lips over his. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Daryl Dixon.”

And now you were here.

“Fuuuuck!” You moaned, pressing the back of your head into the pillow before raising it to look down at the man between your thighs. Your fingers twisted and tugged his hair as your hips rolled, grinding your cunt against his tongue. Daryl growled against your clit, the sound vibrating against the swollen nub. His large hands pressed down on your inner thighs, holding you open while also effectively rendering you immobile.

A whine slipped past your lips when his tongue once again pressed tightly against you, sweeping up and down before he closed his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucked. You tried to lift your hips but he pressed down harder, his nails biting into your skin. He removed his mouth from you, dark eyes glaring from just above your mound.

“Be still.”

His gravelly voice was even lower, darkened with lust and demand. You found you couldn’t help but obey. Breathing through your nose, you nodded eagerly. He kept his gaze locked on your face while his right hand lifted from your thigh, fingertips whispering over your flesh to dance down to your core. He ran a single digit through your slick once…twice, never breaking eye contact.

Your hands left his hair and fisted into the sheets of your bed, but otherwise, you remained frozen in place, panting through the pleasure of stretching around his middle finger breaching your opening. He slid in to the first knuckle, then the second, pausing only briefly before pushing in all the way. The sound that left your throat was positively sinful. You dropped your head back to the pillow and focused on not moving.

“Good girl.” He praised you, rewarding you by drawing his digit almost all the way out before sinking back inside, thus beginning a steady rhythm of which he continued. When you remained unmoving, he lowered his head once again to lavish attention onto your clit.

Who was this man? This was a completely new Daryl. In control, demanding, vocal, and positively panty-dropping. A new part of him for you to accept and adore. A part of him that, to your knowledge, only you had seen. One that you definitely hoped you would see again and again!

“Daryl, fuck!” You cried out when his index finger joined the first. You shivered almost violently when you felt him smile against your pussy.

“In a minute.” He purred, pumping into you faster.

Your hands moved from the sheets to the headboard, palms flat to keep the thrusts of his hand from pushing you upward. The moans and cries were constant, his mouth and fingers igniting a fire low in your belly. The knot was twisting tighter and tighter, and you grit your teeth when you felt the sparks of it begin to shoot down to your toes and up into your chest.

“Nngh, Daryl! I’m—” You panted, eyes screwed shut and legs trembling. He curled his fingers, driving them against that soft spot inside you mercilessly while his tongue and teeth tortured your clit. Just when you thought you might die from the pleasure of it all, that knot in your belly pulled taunt and snapped. Wave after wave of euphoria traveled through you, broken moans of his name tumbling from your lips like a mantra. You had grabbed his hair again at some point, holding him against your center with your thighs attempting to trap him there. He didn’t seem to mind, too busy eagerly lapping at the nectar you spilled while riding your high.

When you went limp against the mattress, he pulled his fingers from within you, leaving you to whine at the emptiness they left behind. You were still pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm when he pressed one last kiss against your sensitive clit before sitting up on his knees. You blinked away the haze in your vision to watch him suck on those two fingers that had just fucked you senseless, your juices still glistening on his face.

You weren’t sure what came over you but you dove forward almost clumsily while he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He caught you easily with the other arm and pulled you against his chest, your arms encircling his neck to pull his lips to yours. The kiss was desperate, all tongues and teeth. The absolute need to be close to him in that moment was something you couldn’t explain. When you pulled back to look at him, your pupils blown wide and lips swollen, it was as if he understood before your sex-addled brain could form any words.

“I gotcha, girl.” Daryl said softly, a contradiction to how he had commanded you only moments prior. You nodded and let him kiss you again. It was tender this time, slow and deliberate. The archer began to lay you back. He caught himself with one arm while the other stayed behind your head to control your descent until you were once again on the pillows.

His mouth left yours and began to roam across your jaw. He nuzzled his cheek against yours in a way that you found absolutely adorable but then he was pressing open-mouthed kisses below your ear. Large hands traveled to your chest to cup both of your breasts, calloused fingers exploring the supple mounds before settling to roll your pebbled nipples between them. He kissed his way down, that sinful mouth eager to take over worshiping that part of you.

“Daryl,” you gasped, arching up into him when his mouth closed around your right nipple, “mmmm, Daryl, please!” You could feel his erection against your thigh, hot and hard and yet completely ignored. “Please—” you tried again, the plea coming out more like a pathetic whine.

“I know whatcha want.” He murmured against the skin between your breasts. He latched onto your left nipple with his teeth while his left hand took over stimulating the right. “Whatcha need.” You did the only thing you could and twisted your fingers into his hair, drawing your bottom lip in between your teeth with a quiet whimper. His touch left you suddenly and you opened your eyes to find him directly above you and lowering down until his lips were just barely touching yours. “But I wantcha to say it anyway.” You felt every syllable against your mouth, the simple action enough to make your cunt clench around nothing. Goddamn, this man knew how to play your body like an instrument.

His fingers were ghosting down your left side only for his hand to maneuver between your bodies. Grasping his cock, he slid it through your folds, gathering your juices in agonizingly slow strokes. Each time the tip of him grazed your clit, your back arched from the mattress with a cry on your lips.

“Say it.”

“I want you, Daryl.” You whined, anchoring your legs around his hips. You dug your heels into the skin just below his ass in a desperate attempt to pull him into you. Too bad he was much stronger than you.

He hummed in response but only began to stroke himself, spreading your slick along his shaft. “Tell me whatcha want me to do, girl.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You were going to literally combust if he wasn’t inside you at that moment. You weaved your arms underneath his and pulled at him. “Fuck me, Daryl. Please, please, fuck me!”

He chuckled. The asshole actually chuckled but you didn’t care because he then immediately entered you in one fluid motion, burying himself to the hilt. His arms nearly gave out as your wet heat welcomed him, stretching and molding to his cock as if your body was made just for him. He groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder but you were too far gone to notice. The pleasurable burn of accommodating him brought you to new heights. You almost came right on the spot.

“Fuck.” He breathed against your neck, fighting to keep himself in check.

After you both had a moment, Daryl pushed himself up onto his forearms, drawing back his hips slowly before snapping forward and earning a broken moan from you. The feeling of him moving inside you was overwhelming, the push and pull driving every thought from your mind to leave only the ability to feel. And you wanted more.

You clawed at his back, each thrust forward tearing a cry from your throat. You barely registered that his mouth was on yours, but responded immediately, craving the taste of him. The smoke and pine mingled with the taste of your cunt on his tongue and you couldn’t get enough. You swallowed his delectable moan when your hips came up to meet this thrusts, the sound of wet skin slapping echoing off the walls of your room. Bringing a hand to his hair, you pulled his head back, pussy clenching when the action made him hiss between his teeth.

Teeth met his skin, biting down just above his collar bone. The salty taste brought a moan into your throat. You marked him there, sucking hard until you brought blood to the surface and then you released him. “You—feel so good.” You panted before your mouth was back on his. He pulled back suddenly and you whined at the loss of his weight but then he was sitting back on his knees, grabbing your hips and fucking into you so hard that you saw stars. It was just on the good side of painful, your cunt spasming around his cock as the familiar heat began to build in your belly.

Daryl didn’t stay that way way long. He released your hips and leaned forward to use the headboard as leverage, pounding you with such force that you again had to brace yourself with your palms. Your cries mixed with his moans and grunts and you prayed that Carol was still away. The angle was intense, each thrust had his tip pressing roughly against your sweet spot, building your pleasure at a pace you wished would slow.

“Daryl, I’m—I’m gonna—” you couldn’t get the words out between breaths and moans, but he knew from the way you tightened around him that you were nearing the precipice. And he was determined to throw you over the edge first.

He released the headboard and grabbed your arms, yanking you up while he sat back on his heels. You grabbed for his shoulders and then encircled his neck, resting one hand on the back of his head and the other on his shoulder blade. He moved his hands to your hips, helping you to bounce on him, spearing yourself on his cock and driving it deeper. Your moans became pleas and then a chant of his name, mouth hanging agape between words and breaths and eyes screwed shut.

“Cum for me.” He grunted against your jaw and that was all it took. You were almost certain you screamed but you couldn’t hear it, vision blacking out as euphoria swallowed you. You came back to yourself as the waves began to ebb, Daryl continuing to fuck you through. Your body felt heavy and uncoordinated and you pulled back a bit to clumsily seek out his mouth, greedily drinking down each sound he offered as he chased his own release. His grip on your hips would leave bruises, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

His movements grew sloppy and you could feel him beginning to twitch and pulse inside you. You pulled your mouth from his and watched him until he pulled you from his lap. You moved quickly, aware of his actions, and wrapped your hand around him, pumping him fast and hard. He pressed his forehead against yours, his hands gripping your thighs while he fought to breathe through the sensation. His teeth were clenched and his eyes tightly closed, sweat shining on his skin and you were sure it was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

Half a dozen more strokes before you twisted your hand and he cried out, muscles freezing and face contorting into a grimace of pure ecstasy. He breathed out your name, hips jerking and ropes of cum painting your hand and both of your thighs. No, that was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

You pulled his mouth to yours before he could come all the way down, relishing each twitch of his muscles. When you pulled away, he finally opened his eyes and swayed on the spot. He seemed dazed but when his gaze met yours, he leaned forward to kiss you. It was gentle, almost hesitant. As if he didn’t know whether or not you’d welcome it.

“That was amazing.” You whispered, finally catching your breath.

“Yeah.” He replied quietly.

You brought a hand to the side of his face, watching all the courage melt away. His already flushed face was growing impossibly redder. You couldn’t help but smile. He had been dominant and commanding only to morph right back into the Daryl you had fallen in love with.

Your eyes widened.

Shit.

You were in love with him.

You were actually in love with Daryl.

You didn’t move when he got up to grab a towel, slipping on his boxers while he was at it. You still didn’t move as he cleaned you up, his mouth moving once he was done but no sound registering. He snapped his fingers in front of your face and you flinched.

“What’d you say?”

“Ya okay?” His brow was drawn inward in concern. He looked so, so nervous and you just wanted to pull him onto the bed and hold him.

“Yeah, I’m great.” You beamed.

He nodded and worried his bottom lip between his teeth, glancing over at his clothes. “Guess I should go.”

Your face fell as he reached for his pants. “Why?” Daryl froze and looked at you, head tilted. “You could stay. Here. With me.” You offered, your own face reddening. He stayed in the awkward position of halfway reaching toward his shirt but was obviously considering your words.

“Ya want me to stay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do.” You smiled sincerely. He nodded and straightened, coming back around to the other side of the bed. He sat stiffly against the headboard, chewing his lip again. You started to lean against him when there came a soft knock at the door. You both looked up and then at one another.

Busted.

You both scrambled to get dressed and it would have been comical had you not been thinking of who could be on the other side of the door. Carol. Rick. Michonne. Oh god, Carl! You looked back at him just as he pulled his shirt over his head, an apologetic expression on your face. Turning the knob and pulling the door open, you smiled innocently at—

No one.

“What the—” You leaned out and looked down each hall to find them empty. However, at your feet were two wrapped plates of food. One with a note addressed to Daryl and the other to you. In Carol’s handwriting.

You looked around for the woman once more while picking up the plates and stepped back into the room, kicking the door shut. Eyebrows raised, you crossed the space to hand Daryl his and then placed yours on the bed, removing the note and unfolding it.

“Good for you. Now tell him that you love him.”

You almost laughed but held it, simply folding your note and putting it in your bedside drawer. Daryl was looking at his own with a raised brow before he folded it and put it in his pocket.

“M’starvin’.” He announced, plopping onto your bed while unwrapping his food. He watched you smile and follow suit, gaze lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

His note?

“Don’t be stupid, Pookie. She loves you too.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x female reader #Spotify

4K notes · View notes

luveline · 3 months

Note

i know you said hotch and reader baby requests… but what about hotch’s daughter that he met as an adult meeting Jack for the first time? two babies in one! love you 💕

—You meet your little brother, with your dad’s support. fem, 1.6k

To grow up wondering if your father might love you is odd. You spend years wondering if you’d ever know him. Would he be proud of you? Would he like you? If you could find him, would he want you to?

And then you do find him, and you’re floored by how desperately he wants to take care of you.

Honey, his message starts, sent at 5AM that morning. Just to remind you, dinner is at 5PM, but you don’t have to worry about being late. You can come whatever time you like, please let me know beforehand. Jack was so excited last night he couldn’t sleep.

Another sent at 5:16AM. I can’t wait for you to meet him. How are you feeling about it? If this is too much, you don’t have to.

At 5:25AM. Please call me to talk when you’re awake, if you can.

You think perhaps your father might be as nervous as you are to introduce you to his family. Because Aaron, your dad, has a wife and child. Haley, his high school sweetheart (though there had been that brief separation in college that allowed your existence), and Jack, his four year old son.

This might be hard for everyone, but at least you aren’t destroying a family by existing. Aaron didn’t do anything wrong in getting your mother pregnant. He had no idea about it until you showed up at his office.

You rub your tired eyes and decide against calling him right away. You have work soon, and he’s probably at his own place of work already. Instead, you make yourself a cup of tea and breakfast you can’t eat. Turns out you’re more nervous than you thought.

You call him on your lunch break.

He said you can call him whenever you want, just he’s busy, and can’t always answer. He also said you can call him whatever you want. It had been a strangely touching moment at one of your ‘catching up on a whole life’ dinners. Mr. Hotchner was extremely formal, and made him laugh every time you said it. Aaron was better, but you could call him dad, if you liked. The paternity test agreed.

“Will that be weird for you?” you’d asked.

“Honey, I’ve had someone calling me dad for the last four years. You can call me what you want.”

Some part of you wished he insisted, but maybe it’s best the choice be down to you.

“Hello?” he asks as he picks up. “Y/N?”

The will to call him dad dies. It’s too awkward, what if he hates it? “Hello,” you say instead, stammering trying to sound natural.

“Hi, honey. Are you still coming to dinner tonight?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t miss it.”

After an investigation and a mother’s confession, you found Aaron Hotchner online. Watched him behind podiums and sat at conference tables, even found his guest lecture at your university. It was a few years before you’d attended, but you can’t help thinking: what if you’d watched him talk? Would you have known he was your father? Of course, you couldn’t know. But maybe he would have.

Aaron took one good look at you in his office and believed you. Well, you had a photo of him and your mom, and you offered to take a paternity test then and there, but he told you he knew pretty quickly.

“You okay?”

“Just terrified,” you say.

“Haley… Haley isn’t mad at anyone. She has,” —he clears his throat— “a very tight picture of her life in her head, and her husband having a child without her wasn’t in that picture, but she also has a really big heart. I promise you have nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not Haley I’m scared of.”

“Honey, Jack can’t stop telling people he has a new sister. People keep giving Haley congratulations.”

You rub your eyes. You’ll be surprised if your makeup survives the day. “Are you sure you even want me to come?”

“I want you more than anything.”

Which doesn’t answer the question you’d voiced, but reassures the one you’d been thinking. “I just wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want me to. I can’t imagine how terrible this has been for you. I’ve disrupted your whole life.”

“Is that what you think?” he asks gently.

You can imagine him sitting at his desk. His office was roomy, with heavy furniture, big windows, and a gaggle of photo frames on the desk. He is intimidating, but he doesn’t talk to you with any meanness, or sternness. He’s been careful with you this whole time, so no, you’ve no reason to think he doesn’t want you around, but maybe he’s too good a man to admit it.

“If it’s too much for now, we can wait,” he says. “We have all the time in the world. But I promise it won’t be what you’re thinking. You certainly aren’t disrupting my life.”

You decide to be brave about it and go to dinner. Only when you’re standing on the Hotchner porch do you remember he’d wanted to talk to you about something. He opens the door quietly, ushering you in with a smile, and before you know it he’s offering a hug in the small foyer.

“Hi,” he says, patting your back. Your hands rest tentatively on his sides.

“Hi.”

He holds you at arm’s length before dropping his touch. “You look pretty,” he says.

Which is a whole other category of thing. “Thank you. Is this the sort of thing you wear to dinner?”

“You can wear pyjamas, if you like. Jack usually does.”

“That would make a good first impression.”

Haley appears from a doorway. “Oh, you’re here,” she says, smiling. “Hello, hello!”

You get another hug. Haley smells like expensive perfume and softness. Her hair is perfect. She’s one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen, and it’s emphasised by her glowing smile. “Jack is bouncing off the walls, but he might get a little shy when he really gets to meet you.” Her smile softens. “Wow. You don’t look much like him, but you have his frown. How’s that possible?” She nudges Aaron. “You’re so moody it’s in your DNA.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just nervous,” you explain.

“Me too,” Haley says.

“It’ll be okay.” Aaron gives Haley a squeeze around the shoulders. “He’s in the living room. Are you ready?”

“Maybe she should go in by herself.”

You and Aaron both stare at Haley.

“I should?” you ask.

She shrugs. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere. But maybe Aaron can introduce you and then bow out. It’s less pressure on both of you.”

You honestly couldn’t agree less with her, and Aaron’s giving her a dubious frown, but she’s Jack’s mom and your dad’s wife and you’re too scared of upsetting her to disagree.

Aaron, however, isn’t worried. “You don’t have to,” he says, giving Haley a rub on her shoulder, “it’s just a suggestion.”

“It’s okay. Um, whatever you guys think is best.”

So Aaron opens the living room door and walks you in.

Jack is drawing a bright picture on the floor, surrounded by a spread of crayons and washable markers. He has a huge sketch pad, where light from the TV stains the white with cartoon colours.

“Jack.” Aaron touches the back of your arm. “Bud, Y/N’s here for dinner.”

Jack whirls. As predicted, he sees you and his smile turns to shyness. You’re feeling shy, too, tempted to hide behind Aaron’s arm, but stepping forward when he prompts you to.

“Hi, Jack,” you say.

“Hi,” he says, lookin at Aaron.

“This is your big sister,” Aaron says.

Because Jack is your little brother. Half brother, but brother. You weren’t expecting to feel so awed.

You step out of your heels, you should’ve at the door, and use the armrest of the couch to lower yourself onto your knees. You just wanna see him.

He’s quite big, for his age. He’s tall. He has brown hair with slightly blond ends, and his eyes are big, flush with dark lashes. You have some of the same DNA, but you’re not sure you could tell with the two of you side by side.

“You look like your mommy,” you say.

“You don’t,” Jack says.

“I look more like my mommy.” You smile at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Jack.”

“You don’t look like a sister,” Jack says. “You’re old.”

“I’m not that old.”

Aaron laughs and touches your shoulder again. It’s nice to think he’s standing by.

“I… I can still do big sister stuff, even if I’m old,” you hedge gently. “I can still do fun stuff, I swear. I’m super fun.”

Jack pulls himself on knees to sit very close to you. He takes the skirt of your dress into his hand and pets it. “What if we ruin your dress?” he says worriedly.

“I have so many like this, it’s okay.”

His smile warms. “Okay. You want to colour with me?”

“Yes, yeah, I do. I really want to, what can we colour?”

“I’ll draw you a picture.”

You look up at Aaron with a smile that threatens to set with the wind. You’d be stuck like that, grinning with a mixture of relief, pride, and affection.

“I’m gonna go help Haley set the table,” he tells you. You’re probably wanting more than he’s giving, but you swear, he talks with love. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay, dad,” Jack says, taking your hand to pull you to the crayons. “We’re gonna colour now.”

“Okay, buddy. Draw me something nice.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

782 notes · View notes

blughxreader · 1 year

Text

Soft yandere Miguel O’Hara

cw: noncon, breeding, kidnapping, m masturbation, biting, SPOILERS. Headcanons and drabble. 1.4k words.

Mean dom Miguel is so hot, but I find that soft yan Miguel has so much overlap with canon.

This man still does all the sick and deplorable things a villain does, but in a way that's strangely tender.

I mean, you simultaneously have to be a sweet man and a stone-cold motherfucker to step in the shoes of your dead counterpart and con his family into thinking everything is fine. Like, he (eventually) fucked a dead man's wife, adopted his child, and seamlessly integrated into his shoes.

While certainly calloused, it also reveals a profound desperation for love and a willingness to do anything for it.

Enter you: a Spider from a random dimension that got caught up in an anomaly's destruction. Maybe your world was destroyed or it's emotionally difficult for you to return, so you end up spending a lot of time at HQ.

Miguel doesn't notice you for a while. There's hundreds of Spiders milling about the base, so it's only until you befriend Peter B and his baby that you get acquainted.

You draw him in without trying, no matter the walls that Miguel puts up. He needs to focus—everyone's very existence is at stake, dammit,—but by month five, you're the only thing he can think about.

His advances start off slow, bogged down by his own exasperation at himself. You're ordered to give in-person de-briefs in Miguel's office and get invited to lunch with him and Peter B, giving you the impression of an upcoming promotion. Miguel is as poised as ever, not letting a single stray emotion color his expression, and talks to you in an aloof, polite manner.

However uninterested he might seem, his insides tighten and flutter at your growing friendship. Every time you smile or secretly share a bemused look, he sinks deeper and deeper in his desire to have you.

Proximity-wise, Miguel vacillates between sitting next to you, close enough for your elbows to brush, and standing 30 feet away on his podium for the next week.

His involuntary, physical reactions startle him, and it becomes another contention he internally wars about. The second he thinks it's harmless to brush against you, it divulges into grabbing—cupping—pinning—fucking—ruining.

God, he fucking loathes the powerless feeling you inflict on him, but he doesn't have the strength to put an end to your friendship. He furiously jerks off after every meeting, biting into his hand to punish himself as he comes to the thought of you swollen with his child.

He thinks of all the deplorable ways to make you pay for causing these feelings, but he ultimately knows the blame lies within him. You see him as a boss and friend, nothing more. You would never intentionally drag him down to this state, so he bottles up all these feelings for your protection.

It takes a particularly bad mission for his control to break.

Whatever reservations he had about locking you in his bedroom evaporate when he sees you covered in blood and rubble. Protecting you from himself was one thing, but the thousands of universes?

You didn't realize what happened until you woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom, weary from pain medication.

He takes your fear, anger, and tears in stride.

While he can't shake his bitchy personality, his annoyance always fizzles out to mumbles and sighs. For months, he takes your verbal abuse and outbursts with resigned acceptance. Miguel didn't always like what he had to do, but he would commit any atrocity if it meant keeping you at his side.

He moves some of his work at home to spend more time with you, just content to occupy the same room while you adjusted to your new situation.

Your shared apartment is quiet most days, save for sporadic outbursts of rage from you, and Miguel daydreams about having a few little kids running around to fill the void.

He stares at you most evenings, watching you curled up on the couch pointedly ignoring him. Miguel thinks you wouldn't be so belligerent if you needed him for something, if you craved his presence and help in some way.

Miguel's mind always drifts back to his favorite fantasies on nights like these: you nine months pregnant and too big for anything other than his shirts. His eyes drift down to your stomach, to the place where you could make his dreams come true.

Patience is something Miguel prides himself on, which is why he puts up with the loneliness for nearly a year after bringing you home. You were given ample time to warm up to him and he's been nothing but kind. Every broken plate and spoiled food, every scratch across his face, every insult—he let you have your way in hopes that you'll eventually recognize him as your lover.

But no. You complained and struggled every step of the way.

Miguel could never hurt you, but he realized that more permanent and assertive measures had to be taken to make you see that you need and love him as much as he does you.

---

When he finally takes you, there's hardly any space between your bodies. There are months of touch starvation to make up for and Miguel is compensating all at once.

His entire 6'9" stature pins you to his bed, locking you between arms as large as your thighs. Miguel is the only thing you see or feel, as his hands caress every dip and curve of your body and his cock grinds against your slit.

With your legs helplessly hiked up around his waist and one of his hands pinning your wrists above your head, he makes love to you with a slow burning intensity.

Your fear and disgust are palpable, but between his sweet voice in your ear and his fingers somehow knowing the rhythm and speed to play with your clit, you're more wet than you've ever been.

"Shh, shh, mi cornazón. I have you." Miguel kisses your jaw, his cock rocking in and out of your aching heat with an agonizingly slow pace. "Just breathe steadily and let me take care of you."

He's too big inside of you, and your grunts of pain make him linger in place to help you adjust. When his stride picks up and the wet sounds of sex fill the bedroom, disgust roils in your stomach. Yet fuck, fuck, fuck, your body temperature rises with each stroke.

Miguel kisses you deeply, using his free hand to hold your head in place. He says, "It's time. I've been so patient. Be brave for me and take our baby."

He swallows your horrified pleading with another scorching kiss.

Your pussy clenches around his dick and your breath catches in your throat. Miguel hugs you tighter, his nose pressed into your hair as he angles himself just right. When the first waves of your orgasm make your head dip back, the sharp edge of fangs scratch your neck.

You barely register his mantra of, "Te amo," when his jaw clamps down on your shoulder. Blood spurts from between his teeth, and you cry out in confused pain as your orgasm shakes your body.

Miguel moans into your flesh seconds later, pumping his cum deep inside you. His thrusting is uncoordinated and rough, too blinded by pleasure to notice how powerful his pounding is. The mattress springs whine beneath you two, and you can only cry from the overwhelming treatment.

He milks every last drop of cum into your cunt before he begins to slow. Both of you gasp for breath, your chests heaving against one another's as sweat cools on your hot skin.

He keeps you plugged up for a while longer to give the conception time. His bloodied lips drag across the wound on your shoulder, peppering you with kisses as he trails red along your neck.

A sob shutters in your chest as Miguel runs a palm along your stomach.

"You'll understand soon. I promise. This will be the best thing that's ever happened to us."

#yandere miguel o'hara #dark miguel o hara #yandere miguel x reader #miguel o'hara smut #yandere miguel o'hara x reader #yandere spiderverse #cw: noncon #cw: breeding #afab

6K notes · View notes

emotionoitme · 1 month

Text

trouble

trouble - coldplay

part 3 of don’t call my name

warnings: angst, hurt + arguing but it’s steamy, drinking and clubbing, some violence (she gets grabbed and threatened but nothing happens), guard dog carmy bark bark, carmy throws hands & brief mention of blood. comfort sex, sappy and sweet but hot, it’s unprotected what else did you expect from me, dirty talk, some drama with claire i’m sorry

wc: 9.0k

a/n: so…i told everyone this was going to be 3 parts when it actually needs 4. i fear i am just too much of a yapper. i love these two and think i needed to do the story justice. so stay tuned for ch4. hehehehe. hope u enjoy!!! (it is going to get angsty)

playlist

carmen berzatto is a shitty communicator.

this we know to be a fact.

it’s just, sometimes when there are a thousand thoughts swarming around his head, it’s easier to not say anything at all. that makes sense, right?

the girl wakes up the next morning to find herself alone. the plush king sized bed almost mocks her with emptiness.

she knows that carmy is a hard worker. a michelin star kitchen doesn’t just run itself. still, it might be nice to get a note, or text, or anything that would reassure her last night wasn’t just some fluke to to him.

the silence of the apartment is almost deafening. she trudges down the stairs and walks to the kitchen, pouring herself what was left in the coffee pot from carmy’s early morning.

she feels lethargic, sore, and a little stung from waking up alone. no text or anything, she thinks.

but there was still time. maybe he was just really busy today. she pushes away the negative thoughts and slaps both of her cheeks lightly, trying to wake herself up. it would be a good day. he would text her or call her when he got a break. and they would talk about it. she puts a smile on her face at the delusion and hops back up the stairs to get dressed for work.

the girl tries to busy herself when she gets there, picking up extra slack from coworkers and bustling around to finish projects. trying to not check her phone.

she goes on lunch break with no text from him.

gets off work at 5 with no text from him.

throws his sheets in the wash and remakes his bed with no text from him.

eats dinner with no text from him.

watches a movie at 9:30 with, you guessed it.

she throws her phone back onto the bed angrily, the false wall of positivity built in her mind beginning to crumble. she’s tired and annoyed, so she shuts off the movie and buries herself in bed, trying to push thoughts of him out of mind so she could sleep.

she tells herself that they can talk tomorrow. but then, tomorrow comes and it’s the same nothing, almost like she didn’t even have a roommate.

three silent days go by until the girl decides she’s had enough, and plans to wait up for him and have a talk. maybe he just wasn’t a texting type of guy, she tries to comfort herself.

she grabs her book and a throw blanket and camps out on the couch, waiting for him to get home.

it’s close to midnight before she hears keys jingling and the lock turning. her heart drops inexplicably but she remains nonchalant and continues reading her book until she hears him take a few steps inside.

she turns her head, watching him talk on the phone as he slides his shoes off. he doesn’t notice her in the dim light of the living room, and his brows are furrowed, hand running through his messy curls.

“yeah. yeah, i’m- i know….sorry again,” a pause, “okay. i’ll see you saturday. bye, claire.”

her eyebrows shoot up at the name, the sinking feeling with in her stomach increasing tenfold. this motherfucker.

carmen makes it halfway into the living room before he notices her on the couch, slightly startling at her presence, mumbling a “shit”

her face feels hot, but not in the good way she had grown accustomed to the past few weeks.

“hey,” he greets softly, eyes looking tired, shoulders slumped.

she just glares at him and goes back to reading her book.

he says her name. she ignores him.

the man lets out a small scoff, stepping closer to the couch, hand on his hip.

“what, you, uh, ignoring me?”

she glances up at him and there’s a small smirk on his face, like he thinks it’s joke or something.

she opens her mouth to say something mean, but stops herself. takes a deep breath. recenters.

she slams her book shut and turns to face him.

“i’m going to bed.”

the man’s small smirk drops, watching as she shoots up from the couch and starts heading towards the stairs. he grabs her wrist to stop her.

“hey,” he says, firmer this time.

she whips around and pulls her arm back.

“what?” she snaps.

his brows furrow at her tone of voice. he pauses for a second, eyes raking down her face, taking in her expression.

“why are you acting like that?” he asks.

the question does nothing but make her feel angrier.

“because you’re being fucking confusing,” the girl exclaims, her throat growing tight.

“how am i confusing?” carmen replies with a surge of annoyance, “you woke me up the other night with…” his eyes dart down her frame, “half your fuckin’ clothes on.” he tries to sound angry, but his voice betrays him a bit. truthfully, it was like his prayers had come true when he opened his eyes to find her straddling him in underwear and a tiny little top that barely kept her chest contained.

“yeah cause i thought you were into me,” she frustratedly sighs, “but you’re just…using me to get over claire.”

the allegation wasn’t rooted in fact. but that’s how the girl felt, and she confuses the two in the moment.

“don’t say that.” he snaps, “that’s not fuckin’ true in the slightest.” carmen had been done with claire for months at this point. if anything, he had been trying to use claire to get over his roommate.

“it’s been three days since we-… and you haven’t said anything,” she sighs, rubbing her forehead, feeling a headache come on.

he knows his, and feels guiltier than she could even imagine. but he also knows she’s leaving in a few short weeks, and doesn’t want to fall any deeper than he already has for her.

“i got busy at work.” he defends. it’s a shitty excuse, but as usual, it’s the first to come to mind.

her eyes brows crease further.

“you have a phone.” she chides.

“i just…i didn’t think about it,” he lies, “i’m sorry.”

she scoffs and shakes her head.

“god, you’re so-,” another sigh, “you know, whatever, carm.” she turns from him and begins to walk up the stairs.

he hates how his eyes glance down to her ass, peaking out from beneath a pair of short shorts.

god he’s a fucking loser, he tells himself.

carmy calls her name again. she ignores him.

the girl slams her bedroom door behind her and throws herself onto her bed. she tries to fight the hot, angry tears that stream down her face, telling herself it doesn’t really bother her. telling herself that he’s just another stupid guy, and she can find better. this does nothing to ease the burning feeling in her chest, though, a pair of soft blue eyes flashing in her mind. thinking of the way he was rough with her while still being gentle, kissing her face and calling her sweet names. thinking of how he held her and wiped her tears and assured her that things would work out.

fucking asshole!

she grabs her duvet and pulls it over her head, wrapping herself tightly and burrowing into the pillow. she tells herself that she won’t make the mistake of giving into him again. wouldn’t ever grace him with her lips or fingers or sweet moans again.

she tells herself that she doesn’t need him. she could easily find someone else that would satisfy that same feral craving she had for carmen.

in fact, tomorrow would be friday, and she hadn’t gone out in a long time. she decides on calling up a friend and making a friday night plan to go out. drink, dance, and prove to herself that there’s better for her out there than carmy.

the girl aggressively rubs her face of tears and shoots up out of bed, grabbing her phone to send the invitation to a girlfriend. her phone pings with a quick response, and the girl confirms her plan for the following night, already envisioning what to wear. the thought of seeing carmy tomorrow night before she goes out makes her stomach churn. the thought of seeing him at all makes it churn, actually.

she tells herself that she only has to stick it out for another month or so. then she would go back to california and things would be normal. no more stupid boys. no more heated touches. no more whimpers being greedily devoured by hungry kisses.

she tells herself that’s what she wants.

it doesn’t feel genuine in the slightest.

the following morning she rummages through her closet and picks out a couple of skimpy options. she studies herself in the mirror, holding up the various items up in front of her nude body, wondering what carmy would think of the outfits. she quickly tries to push the thought out of mind. she doesn’t care what he thinks, she reminds herself. her eyes fixate on the finger-shaped bruises scattered about her hips. she thinks of how they got there.

her day at work seems to go impossibly slow. the girl finds herself thinking of carmen constantly, caught between hoping there would be a text from him when she would check her phone and hoping she would never hear from him again.

her mind frequently flashes to the way he handled her a few nights ago. how he kissed her obsessively. how he held her up once her legs had given out. how he relentlessly plowed into her and called her a pretty girl and told her she was made for him.

the thought simultaneously makes her horny and angry, something that she had never experienced so vividly until now. she wanted to slap his face, but at the same time she wanted to kiss him and grind against him and beg for him again.

it’s entirely confusing.

by the time 10 o clock rolls around, she begins to get ready, meticulously styling her hair and applying her makeup. she opts for a sultry, smokey look, accentuating her eyes with dark shadow and liner, glossing her pouty lips with a clear lacquer. the girl tries to hurry the routine, anxious to make it out the door before carmen gets back.

she strips her clothes off and slips into her club apparel, then decorates her look with rings, bracelets, earrings, and a necklace. as she slides her thigh high boots on, she hears the front door open, then slam closed.

“fuck,” she harshly exhales. looks like she would have to see him after all.

carmy racks his keys onto the hook and steps out of his shoes, taking a deep breath at the relief of being home. it’s not until he notices the light coming from upstairs that the relief is replaced with a sense of anxiety.

he knows he needs to fix things between him and his roommate, if he could even refer to her as just that anymore. he had felt like a jackass all week, but apologies were never really his strong suit. he didn’t even know where to start.

the man empties his pockets out onto the credenza, then begins to make his way into the living room. he stops in his tracks when he hears the click of heels descending the stairs.

as he turns his head and catches sight of her, he fights to stifle a groan.

she comes down clad in a tight top and mini skirt, length of her legs emphasized by black thigh high boots. his eyes rake down her body, admiring the curve of her figure and the appealing fit of the clothes. he wishes that she would dress like that all the time, but he doesn’t tell her that, instead just opting for a casual, albeit slightly strained “hey.”

she looks at him, but doesn’t reply, instead sauntering over to their bar cart and pouring herself a shot. he realizes the top is backless, and clenches his jaw a bit, trying to recenter with a deep breath.

“you, uh…you look nice,” he clears his throat.

she throws back the shot and shivers.

“thanks,” her response comes dryly, walking over to grab her purse, “i’ll be back in a few hours.”

carmen feels his brain stutter, processing what she said, his eyebrows furrowing.

“wait you, uh, you’re going out dressed like that?” he can’t help but feel a bit protective, even if she is pissed off at him. the girl scoffs.

“i can’t really go to the club in sweatpants, carm.”

he rubs a hand over his face, trying to keep calm.

“you could, uh….at least put a fuckin’ jacket on or something though?” he tries to suggest kindly. his tone betrays him.

“yeah?” she turns towards him, “why the fuck do you care?” bite in her tone.

his eyes fall over the multiple hickeys that litter her neck, then flicker over her face, realizing how striking her features look accentuated by dark makeup. she looks angry. a little hurt. he wants to say something soothing.

“cause i-fuck,” hand threading through his hair messily, “because i know how guys think.”

nice. real soothing.

“yeah? n’what do they think?” she challenges.

that anyone would want you. that you look fucking hot wearing those tight little clothes.

carmy opts to not respond so directly, and walks closer to her.

“i just don’t want you to get… hurt.” his tone is firm, jaw set tightly. she lets out a sardonic laugh at this. at the fact that he’s her biggest source of hurt at the moment.

“what, you think it’s funny?” he barks, “you could get fuckin’…picked up or drugged or something.”

she rolls her eyes.

“that’s not gonna happen. i’m going with a friend.” she snatches her purse off the credenza, fumbling through it to make sure she has her id. he takes a few steps closer. until he can smell her sweet perfume.

“well, let me drive you guys then.”

she shakes her head.

“no. we’re getting a cab.” zipping up her purse and hanging it over her shoulder.

“fuck, then call me when you get there. and when you’re leaving.” he snaps a bit, becoming a bit fed up with her attitude.

“not gonna fuckin’ call you, carmy,” her face scrunches up in anger, “i’ll probably end up going home with someone, anyways,” she fibs, locking eyes with him, unintentionally leaning in a bit.

“you what?” he angers, moving even closer to her, their faces mere inches apart.

she can feel the shot she took now, eyes darting down to his lips. fuck his deodorant. the smell of it makes her want to give in.

“‘mgonna find someone tonight,” her tone lower now, lids low, “‘n they’re gonna fuck me better than you ever will.”

he scoffs, blood boiling at her words, shaking his head, eyebrow twitching.

“yeah, uh, that’s not gonna fuckin’ happen.” his hand comes to wrap around her hip, squeezing. his face comes closer, lips nearly ghosting hers.

“yeah?” she challenges, actively fighting to keep from diving in, eyes locked on his lips.

“yeah,” tone firm, “tell your friend you’re staying in tonight.”

she doesn’t know why she feels so turned on. still pissed off, yes, but mostly aroused.

she rolls her eyes and lets out a laugh to hide this, but he can tell. he can always tell by the slight flutter of her eyelids and the way she’ll part her lips. he knows that she likes when he talks to her like that.

the girl channels all of her strength and steps away from him, opening the front door.

“see you tomorrow,” she chimes, walking out. he calls her name as she walks away, but she ignores him. he tells himself he’s too proud to chase after her, but really he wants to do nothing more.

as she makes her way down the hall, his eyes rake down her exposed back, settling on her shapely ass.

this girl was going to drive him fucking crazy.

carmy berzatto (2hrs): you make it there?

missed call from carmy berzatto (1hr)

carmy berzatto (30min): call me if you need a ride home.

the girl shuts off her phone, shoving it back in her purse and strutting to the bar counter. sure, now he cared enough to send a text.

jealous motherfucker.

it had been a girls night out until her friend went home with an ex boyfriend, leaving her all alone at the club. she leans over the counter, pushing her hair over her shoulder. her feet are sore from the boots she had picked out, coupled with an hour or so of nonstop dancing.

the girl had planned to leave as soon as her friend did, but made the mistake of passing through the main room where they were playing 2000s music. she couldn’t just not dance to 2000s.

the bartender works quickly to accommodate the numerous orders. she feels the drink she had been sipping on affecting her, comfortably bathing in the multicolored lights of the club. it was packed with people, and she had been noticing eyes on her all night.

the girl feels a hand on her lower back, and she turns to meet the eyes of a tall man.

“hi,” he says.

“hey,” she softly replies.

he was admittedly handsome, and his muscular stature didn’t hurt to look at either.

“can i buy you a drink?” the man asks.

the girl softly smiles and nods. he raises his hand to flag the bartender. she was planning on getting a water, but since she wasn’t paying for it…

the stranger makes small talk with her, the two having to practically yell into each other’s ear to hear over the bass of the music. jobs, what part of town they live, compliments. not that she really cares about any of it, though she tries to.

as he leans in to ask if she’ll dance with him, he places his hand on her waist. she tries to ignore how it doesn’t feel right.

he’s cute, she tells herself, and i needs to stop thinking about carmy.

the girl takes a long sip of her drink and nods softly, taking his hand and leading him to the dance floor. they squeeze through the crowd of bodies, and she turns to face him, hand on his chest. he places a hand on her lower back, and they begin to move to the beat. she takes another long sip of her drink, closing her eyes, coming closer to the man, swaying her hips. his deodorant doesn’t smell as good as carmen’s does. doesn’t comfort her like his does.

she takes another sip, and she circles around, moving her hips, facing away from the man. the music resonates through the whole building, lights flash and change color, making her movements feel dreamlike. he places his hands on her hips.

she wishes that she liked how it felt.

the man presses his hips into her backside. she imagines it’s carmen, and the thought makes her bite down onto her lip. her head falls back against his chest. she thinks of her roommate’s strong arms. his tattoos. the way his face scrunched up when he fully engulfed himself in her. the girl lets out a breath. her skin feels hot and sticky in the muggy club air. she takes another long sip of alcohol, feeling lips on her neck. they feel strange and unfamiliar. it doesn’t set off that tingling sensation in her lower stomach. she groans out of frustration.

“mmm you like that don’t you, pretty girl?” the man slurs into her ear.

the name makes her heart drop, and all of the sudden she feels like she needs to throw up. she shoves the stranger’s hands away and stumbles forward, pushing her way out of the crowd. the floor feels like it’s tilting on an axis as she cringes at the feeling of other sweaty bodies touching her. she gets shoved into by a big group and loses her drink.

it’s suddenly hard to breathe. the girl feels her throat tighten, her chest burning, wiping hot tears away. she fights and pushes and weaves through the crowd until she finally breaks free, making a beeline for the glowing red exit sign. the girl shoves the door open, almost tripping over the frame, and stumbles out into the cold night.

the frigid air helps alleviate some of her nausea, skin rising in goosebumps. she trudges along the brick wall and leans her back against it, focusing on taking deep breaths. her hands run through her messy hair, pushing it out of her face, closing her eyes, trying to stop the steady flow of tears.

this night was supposed to be fun, but all she wanted to do was go home and sleep this booze off. all she wanted was carmen.

her hands fumble through her purse, grabbing her phone. she drops it, muttering a “shit,” and crouches down to pick it up. she squints her eyes at the light of the display, struggling to navigate to the uber app. she enters her address, cursing internally when she sees the friday night surge prices. instead, she exits uber and finds her contacts, hovering over the number of a cab company. her eyes glance towards carmen's contact, right below.

she doesn’t want to call him. he was being an asshole, and she hates how easily he was able to get under her skin. so she dials the contact for the cab, listening to the line ring. and ring. and ring. almost infinitely, then a automated voice of “your call cannot be completed.”

“fuck,” she curses, terminating the call.

her eyes fixate on his name, pausing and contemplating.

she rolls her eyes and dials it. the line rings twice and gets picked up with a raspy greeting and a “y’okay?”

she stays silent for a second, not sure what to say. he says her name.

“did you know that you are-” she hiccups, “s-so mean?” it’s the only thing that comes to mind.

“are you drunk?” he asks.

“no. m’not” she argues, wiping a stray tear.

“you sound drunk,” he retorts, “where are you? i’m coming to get you.”

“you’re so fucking…rude. ‘nyou think you can just do whatever you want because you’re so-” hiccup, “hot… and big…you irritate me, carm,” she slurs into the line. she opens her mouth to say more, but he cuts her off by saying her name sternly.

“you at prysm? tunnel?”

“yeah. that one.” she hiccups again.

“tunnel? okay, stay right there. i’m getting in my car now.”

“ok but i’m still mad at you,” she murmurs, leaning against the cool brick. he scoffs, and starts saying something about her bad attitude, but she cuts him off by hanging up, harshly exhaling and closing her eyes tightly. the tears continue falling, so she just tries to focus on her breathing.

a cool breeze causes her to stiffen, wrapping her arms around herself, shivering. it’s uncomfortable, but grounding. her head stops spinning so much as she begins to breathe deeply. the tears come to a steady stop, but the aching in her chest doesn’t. she wishes carmen would hold her and kiss her head.

around fifteen minutes pass before she hears the back door of the club open. the girl keeps her eyes shut, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t bother her. though it seems she’s not so lucky tonight, unfortunately.

“hey, you,” a deep voice says. she snaps her eyes open to find the same tall man she was dancing with earlier standing in front of her.

she just stares at him silently, crossing her arms in front of her to help provide some modesty.

“listen, i think we get along well. and you’re really hot,” he explains drunkenly, “why don’t i help you get home?”

she feels icked out, trying to refrain from rolling her eyes.

“m’not interested, sorry. i have someone coming to pick me up.”

the man scoffs.

“you were plenty interested earlier when i bought you a drink,” taking a step closer to her, “c’mon. don’t be a tease.” he has a smirk on his face. she feels her heart begin to pound against her chest.

carmy was right, it was a mistake to come out. she tries to take a step away from him, blocked by the hard brick wall.

“seriously, i’m not interested,” she tries to sound assertive, “my boyfriend will be here any second so just leave me alone.” she hopes he can’t read through her lie.

“your boyfriend?” he asks, smirk turning into a grin, “you’re a naughty girl, aren’t you? someone should fucking straighten you out.”

her heart drops to her stomach, and she feels sick all over again. she steps forward to shove past him, and he grabs her waist, slamming her back into the wall.

“don’t fucking touch me!” she yells, grabbing his wrists and digging her nails in. he doesn’t let go. tears begin to stream down her face, heart hammering against her ribcage. she sees headlights from down the street and prays that it’s carmen, continuing to struggle against the man.

the car speeds up to the curb and jerks to a stop, door flying open. she shuts her eyes tightly and digs her nails in hard enough to draw blood, giving a final attempt at trying to get his hands off of her.

the girl is suddenly released as the man is jerked backwards by his shoulder. her eyes snap open and graciously land on the person she’s been wanting to see the most.

everything happens so fast—watching in a haze as carmen practically decks the guy in the face, sending the stranger stumbling back, gripping a bloody nose.

“you muverfuckr!” he slurs, words muffled by a dripping hand, lunging forward again. carmy shuffles back, then throws another jab square in the face. the man falls backwards onto the ground, sitting on the concrete, looking entirely disoriented. the girl gasps, feeling partially sobered by the scene.

she watches as the stranger’s blood drips onto the pavement, then darts her gaze over to carmen. his eyes look crazed, jaw tightly locked. he begins to stalk towards the man, clenching his fists that were spotted with red.

the girl reaches out and grabs his arm. he turns to look at her and his features immediately soften, taking in her tear-soaked cheeks and swollen lips. without thinking, he grabs her arm and pulls her into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around her in a protective bear hug. she clings to his shirt, and cries. he kisses the top of her head.

he smells so good. smells so safe.

“s’okay. i got you,” he soothes, “you’re okay.” the man says this as a reassurance to himself as well, rubbing her back, feeling his throat tighten and eyes water a bit.

the stranger lay flat on his back now, clutching his bleeding nose, mumbling incoherently.

carmen pulls back from the embrace, but keeps an arm wrapped tightly around her, ushering her to the car. she stumbles a bit, holding onto him securely. she wishes the tears would stop, but they don’t. she feels so scared. so relieved. so fucking grateful.

he gets her into the car, shutting the door and walking around to the driver’s side. she doesn’t want to look at him when he gets in, so she hides her face in her hand, elbow leaning on the arm rest. he doesn’t say anything for the duration of the drive home either.

she feels embarrassed, tired, and still a little mad at carmy. the whole reason she had wanted to go out and meet guys in the first place was because of his stupid situationship with claire. it was like it made her go into defense mode.

they had been driving for about 5 minutes, before she feels a dull throbbing in her head, stomach growling, alcohol in her system making her crave greasy nasty salty food.

she raises her head from her hand, looking at carmen. his eyebrows were knit together tightly, jaw clenched. she leans her head against the headrest as she stares at him lovingly. she loves how protective he gets over her. how strong he is. how blindingly handsome.

but she’s still mad, of course.

he catches her gazing at him in his periphery. he looks over, features softening as he catches her eyes momentarily.

“what’s up?” he asks, voice low.

she just looks at him. her lip pouts a bit.

“you hungry?” comes his question, perfectly timed.

she allows a soft smile to grace her lips at the accuracy of his guess.

“mmhm,” she nods, “a burger sounds really good right now. and french fries.”

he lets out a quiet chuckle, nodding his head, glancing at her again.

“let’s get you a burger and french fries, then.”

he turns his signal on and moves to make a quick left, pulling into a drive-thru after a few minutes.

they sit in line waiting for the order to be cooked. she glances over at his face. she wants to kiss him, a little.

“d’yknow what the ultimate hangover food is?” she asks softly.

he turns to face her, eyebrows raised in question, a look of amusement on his face.

“an all american breakfast,” she murmurs with a smile.

“yeah?” he asks, “like…pancakes?”

she nods, biting her lip with a smile. he lets out a soft laugh at this.

“and bacon and eggs. and hash browns. fuck,” her eyes are closed, like she’s imagining it in front of her. this makes the man laugh a bit harder, hand coming to smooth over his face.

“good answer,” he tells her once he stops smiling as much.

“what’s yours?” she asks, gazing at him a bit longingly.

“my what?”

“your hangover cure food.”

“uh, probably…saltines?”.

the girl lets out a laugh.

“the alcohol upsets my stomach,” he admits.

she laughs harder, burying her face in her hands.

“you are so cute,” she amuses.

he fights the heat that rushes to his face when she says this, and they pull forward to the pick up window.

the girl takes her first bite into the greasy burger that carmen insists on paying for, and it makes her feel more human than she has all night.

carmy parks the car in his assigned lot, then gets out to assist his roommate out of the car. the food helped her feel much more grounded, but she still has to cling onto his arm to be able to walk straight through the building.

neither of them say anything. this lasts until they get back to their unit, and carmy locks the door behind them. he watches as the girl stumbles out of her shoes and crashes onto the couch. she throws an arm over her eyes and tries to push away the nausea that comes with laying down.

“thank you,” she murmurs into her arm after a moment.

“mhm,” he responds, “told you to call me when you needed a ride, though,” shrugging off his jacket.

“i did,” she argues.

“no, you called me… way after you needed one. and you stood outside waiting for me,” his tone grows harsher.

if she wasn’t so nauseous, she’d roll her eyes.

“i was trying to get away from all the guys that were trying to take me home,” she retorts. she means it to be teasing, but it’s clear he doesn’t take it that way by the peak she steals through her arms.

“y’know, you-,” he scoffs, “i’m glad you think it’s fuckin’ funny because i-fuck…i was worried about you” he throws his keys onto the table, feeling angry, feeling scared.

she throws her other arm over her face. her cheeks are hot with embarrassment. her throat suddenly feels tight at his words, like she’s going to cry again. she doesn’t say anything out of fear of her voice breaking.

carmy chides her name, stalking over to the couch. he stands over her, expectantly waiting for a response, jaw clenching with annoyance. he nudges her arm. she moves it, revealing her tired bloodshot eyes.

“can we not do this tonight?” she begs hoarsely, “m’so drunk.”

“you fucking scared me,” he exclaims, grabbing his hair, “what would’ve happened if i didn’t get there in time, huh?”

“i know,” she sobs, tears now freely flowing, hiding her face in her arms again.

his heart breaks a bit, watching her cry like that. but he feels so angry that she put herself at risk like that.

“you-” he stops. takes a deep breath to recenter. “you’re right. let’s not do this tonight.”

she peaks at him through her arms, feeling completely pathetic. she watches him turn on the small lamp by the couch. he drapes a throw blanket over her before turning to walk upstairs.

tears continue inexplicably trailing down her cheeks, as her deep breathing begins to lul her into sleep.

an hour passes.

she shifts to try and get comfy to no avail.

30 more minutes.

everything was so uncomfortable.

she sits up quickly and shoots off the couch, beelining for the stairs, desperate to get the crunchy makeup and scratchy clothes off.

she falls up the stairs in her sleepy scramble, knocking against the wall loudly. slowly stands up, holds onto the rail, and exhales before continuing to ascend much more carefully.

as she walks down the hallway, she unashamedly begins to strip out of her clothing, leaving a trail that leads to the bathroom, telling herself she would take care of it later. she feels sick and lethargic, needing a shower immediately.

the girl leaves the bathroom light off as she draws a cold shower and steps in right away, drenching herself in the frigid water. she tenses, letting out a sharp exhale, feeling almost immediately soothed.

it’s as if the water washes away everything bad from the night. she meditatively goes through her routine, cleaning herself. cleaning away everything that happened tonight. cleaning away the man who touched her on the dancefloor, outside of the club.

the shame and embarrassment that begins to seep in as the alcohol wears off doesn’t wash away as easily. she needs to apologize, she knows that.

the girl dries herself off and wraps her hair in a towel as she walks back to her room, feeling more of a pep in her step following the refreshing shower. she bends down to pick up the strung out clothing she left behind, feeling like she was going crazy because her underwear was nowhere to be found. it would just have to wait until tomorrow, she supposes.

she’s moisturized and laying in bed, trying to fall asleep. tossing and turning. taking a deep breath. softening her face, muscles. thinking of nice things.

drifting off. mind flashing back to the man grabbing her and slamming her against the brick wall. thinking of what would’ve happened had carmy not come to her rescue.

her eyes snap open. she sharply inhales and sits up, hanging her legs over the side of the bed. it was going to be impossible to get sleep like this, heart beating way too fast to try and relax.

she just wants to feel safe.

without a second thought, she stands and begins walking to carmy’s room.

she knows he’s pissed off at her. knows he’ll probably tell her to get out. even so, she’s so desperate to get some sleep. so desperate to ease the anxiety that had been festering inside of her all night.

his door is closed, and she hesitates for a moment before twisting the knob and slipping inside.

it’s dark—the curtains drawn when they usually aren’t. he lay shirtless on his side, facing away from the door, clutching a pillow in his arms.

the girl peels back his sheets and slowly slips into bed, resting her head on the soft pillow. she stays there for a moment before scooting closer and laying her face against his back. he’s so warm, and his skin smells safe. her eyes fall shut. she feels him shift.

carmen wakes up unexpectedly to the feeling of warmth behind him. he knows it’s her without having to look. when she had noisily stumbled upstairs and into the shower, he went to go check on her—almost knocked on the bathroom door, but refrained once he heard soft cries from within.

he feels her face nuzzle into his back, and he reaches his arm back behind him, wanting to feel where she lay. he touches her hip.

“hi,” she greets softly.

“hey,” he returns, voice raspy, “y’can’t sleep?”

she scoots closer to him, hand splaying over his back.

“just a little… freaked out still…” she whispers. her tone wobbles.

he shifts at this, and turns around to face her silently. in the low light she can make out the worried furrow of his brows.

she feels guilty for being the subject of his worry.

“i’m sorry,” the girl confesses, biting back tears.

carmen’s brows crease further at her apology, immediately wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his chest. she tucks her face into his neck, shutting her eyes tightly, smelling his skin.

“y’got nothing to be sorry for,” he plants a kiss atop her head, “wasn’t your fault.”

“it was my fault,” her voice breaks, “should’ve listened to you,” her arms come around his neck, and she presses her body flush with his.

“it wasn’t,” he asserts, “that guy was a fuckin’ creep.” his tone is hushed. his arms wrap around her as if he’s scared of losing her.

“are you still mad at me?” she asks. her breath tickles his neck.

“i wasn’t mad,” he admits, “just scared.”

“me too,” matching his hushed tone. “thank you carm,” she whispers, pressing a kiss below his ear, “feel so safe with you.” she shuffles closer, pelvis pressing against his.

“you are,” he buries his nose in her hair, “always.” hiking her leg over his hip to bring her closer.

the girl kisses his neck again. and again. pulls him in closer. his smell is completely addicting, and with the angle of her leg she can feel his erection growing against her core. she hopes he can’t feel the wetness that begins to form beneath her shorts.

his big palm spreads over her ass and squeezes, desperate to hold every inch of her.

the girl deeply exhales, bothered by how easily he’s able to rouse her.

the man harshly exhales at the repeated feeling of her bites and licks and kisses, holding onto her with an urgent desperation. trying to wrap around her as if he were keeping her from the world.

the room becomes hot, and the two shuffle the duvet off.

carmen calls her name, trying to break her attention. he wants to apologize. wants to confess his shortcomings. wants to look in her big eyes and tell her he’s not enough and never will be. but she ignores his beckon and continues enthusiastically biting and sucking and kissing, hand pressing against his chest.

he forces his eyes to stay open, weight of his bottled apology heavy on his tongue.

“hey,” he tries again, voice strained from the pleasure.

“can you put it in?” she breathes into his neck.

“fuck,” he groans, surprised by her forward request, feeling himself pulse against her wetness.

“please,” she whines, hiking her leg further up onto his hip, trailing her kisses along his jaw, up to his cheek.

he squeezes her ass again, fingers slipping under the fabric of her tiny shorts. her skin was so soft. so hot with arousal.

“let me play with you,” he strains, “get you ready f’me.”

the girl makes a sound of protest, kissing his face more, hand coming to his neck.

“m’ready,” she whispers earnestly “wanna feel you so bad,” another kiss, “please, carm.”

he lets out a strained breath and removes his hand from her ass, shoving his boxers down just enough to free his erection. she moves her thigh higher up his hip, and carmen slips his fingers beneath the fabric covering her core, hastily pulling it to the side.

“yeah,” she exhales desperately, edge of her lips touching his, trying to watch him press his cock into her opening.

carmen pushes forward, sinking into her tightness. he lets out a groan at the way her wet heat engulfs him. the girl releases a sound of appreciation, her nails indenting the skin of his shoulder.

he takes a deep breath and begins slowly rocking his hips, turning his face to catch her lips in a hungry kiss. he greedily swallows her sweet noises, catching the edge of her shirt and bunching it up over her chest, exposing her breasts.

“please,” she breaks the kiss to plead, not really even knowing what she was asking for.

“i know, baby” he groans in between kisses, “gonna take care of you.” rolling his hips, hiking her leg further up his hip to bury himself to the hilt.

she wants to cry at how good it feels, eyes scrunched shut and mouth falling open in pleasure, releasing her first breathy moan.

carmy swears he could cum at the sound of it, hand grabbing her ass again, pulling her impossibly closer. his forehead comes to hers and he begins slowly thrusting into her, completely drunk off of her. her smell, her wetness, her whimpers.

“y’so fuckin’ cute,” he growls, “can’t get enough of you.” his admission sends a fluttering sensation throughout her chest, arching further into his touch, beginning to hungrily rock her hips to try and match his thrusts.

the man grabs her hip, holding her still.

“slow down,” he commands softly, catching her lips in a deep kiss, continuing to gently thrust into her.

she complies, savoring the sweet, lazy rocking motion as he holds her tightly. it feels far more intimate than what she’s ever experienced with him, even though the two weren’t even fully naked. it was needy and frenetic, yet slow and gentle.

carmen buries himself deeper, beginning to thrust up into her at an angle. he kisses her with frenzy, tongue swirling around hers, swallowing each and every noise she makes. the room grows incredibly hot, their skin sticky, each trying to apologize to the other using their bodies.

carmy snaps his hips forward, and the girl releases from his lips with a loud cry. her nails dig into his shoulder. it’s so good she feels like crying again.

“y’such a pretty fuckin’ girl,” he growls, “love how you feel, y’know that?”

her droopy eyes meet his. she loves the way it sounds from his mouth. loves everything he does.

“i’m all yours carm,” she gasps, savoring the deep, satiating feeling of his thick cock.

“yeah?” he asks breathily, “all mine?” grabbing her ass, pulling her in time with his thrusts.

“y-yeah,” she cries, eyes tightly shut, “yours. i love-ah,” she’s interrupted by a punctuated thrust, losing her words, head falling back, breathing heavily. he feels so good.

“what d’you love?” he asks, leaning forward to kiss her exposed neck, “huh?”

“love y-how you make me feel,” she cries.

his chest flutters. he bites and kisses the skin of her neck. he wishes she would’ve said something different.

“what else, hm?” a kiss, thrusts speeding up, “what else d’you love?”

“love-fuck, right there,” she whimpers, “i love-ah,” trailing off as if she can’t even think straight.

carmy smiles into her neck, giving her skin a final bruise before pulling away to catch her lips.

“tell me,” he growls, grabbing the side of her thigh and continuing to upwards.

her eyes fill with tears. she’s scared to say it.

“i-,” an gasp, “i love you, carm.” she catches his gaze as she says it, and watches how his expression softens. how deeply he looks at her. the man dives into her lips again, kissing her with a ferocity she had yet to ever receive, groaning into her mouth.

“fuckin’ made for me,” he growls in between kisses, “love everything about you,” pulling her leg further up, “perfect fuckin’ girl.”

he rolls over her and lifts her hips up, continuing to thrust into her.

the girl wraps her legs around his back accommodatingly, dizzy from his words and the pleasure. she slips her fingers down to circle her swollen clit, feeling as if she teters right on the edge of climax, overcome with a white hot pleasure.

“love you,” she cries, nails scratching down his back, “iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou m’gonna cum” she babbles. he smiles down at her, almost overwhelmed by a feral need to claim her.

the man deliberates throwing caution to the wind and cumming inside of her. he knows she wouldn’t mind. he rationalizes the logistics of making her a mom in his frenetic state, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks, her wet eyes, her open mouth. he decides he’s in love with her. decides he wants her to be his forever. he watches her cum. watches her eyes roll back and her body start shaking. listens to the sweet harmonic moans that spill from her lips.

“there y’go,” he coaxes, “such a good girl,” kissing her swollen lips, “fuckin’ in love with you,” heightening the pace of his thrusts, feeling himself approach the brink of orgasm. he seriously considers cumming inside of her, telling himself he would if she asked. he looks at the girl for confirmation, but she’s too far gone. he begrudgingly pulls out, shooting thick ropes of cum onto her stomach with a groan, missing her warmth as soon as he leaves.

carmy rolls off of her, grabbing her face and pressing a firm kiss onto her cheek, collapsing on the bed for a moment. he feels spent.

the girl pants, trying to catch her breath. carmen nuzzles into her neck, wrapping around her tightly, kissing her tenderly. they bask in the afterglow, cherishing the presence of each other, an encompassing silence following the heavy words exchanged.

she’s the first to speak. well, complain.

“there’s….cum all over my stomach.” she rasps. he smiles into her neck.

“shower?”

quiet, for a moment.

“i can’t move.”

he kisses her bruised skin with a lazy smirk and sits up to grab her a washcloth.

when the girl wakes up alone the next morning, her heart drops a bit, finding the bed next to her empty once again. she shuts her eyes immediately, hoping to be swept away by sleep so she could postpone the disappointment.

that is, until she hears noises from the kitchen downstairs. and smells the bacon.

the girl groggily pushes herself up out of bed, stalking down the hallway. she gets halfway to the stairs before realizing she’s completely naked, stopping in her tracks, turning to carmy’s open door, eyes falling on a t-shirt on the ground. she quickly grabs it and slips it over her head, then continues to curiously make her way downstairs. soft music comes from the speaker in the kitchen, and she slowly descends the stairs to find carmy deftly working over the stove. the whole house smells incredible.

she slips behind him to get to the coffee pot, sliding her hand along his back as she passes.

the man turns his head.

“hey,” he watches as she retrieves a mug from the cabinet, graciously taking in the sight of her wearing his shirt.

“good morning,” she smiles, “smells so good in here.”

as she stretches to get the mug, the hem of the shirt lifts ever so slightly over the curve of her ass. he clears his throat.

“nice shirt,” carmy says, turning back to tend to the bacon.

she lets out a soft giggle, pouring her coffee.

“yeah?” taking a sip and leaning against the counter, “figured it would be better than coming down naked.”

his brain stutters for a moment. he turns to catch the smirk on her face.

“i, uh…. i dunno about that,” he responds, small smile on his face. she shoves his arm playfully and he breaks into a grin.

“no work this morning?” she asks, grateful for the unusual saturday morning presence.

“no, i, uh…m’taking a personal day,” he replies, turning the heat of the stove off, “had some stuff i needed to get done.”

“good,” she replies with a nod, “you deserve a day off. i didn’t take you for much of a breakfast guy, though” she comments, tilting her head slightly.

“i’m not, really,” he plates the bacon over a paper towel, “but i, uh…thought some all american might help with your hangover.”

she feels a pang in her chest, eyes glancing over the assortment of pancakes, eggs, hash browns, and bacon. everything she had told him last night.

“carm,” she whines, “that is so kind. you didn’t have to all of this for me.”

the food looked delectable, plated beautifully and piping hot.

“i wanted to.” he begins to pick up the plates.

she puts her coffee down and helps him set the table.

when she takes the first bite of her bacon and eggs she practically moans at the taste.

“fuck,” she locks eyes with him.

“yeah?” he watches her with amusement.

“yeah,” she breathes, nodding, “that’s…wow.”

he can’t help but grin, hand coming to rub over his face.

“good?”

“yeah.” she nods, “really fucking good.”

he feels his skin heat at the way she says it, having no idea why watching her enjoy his food was so deeply satisfying (and maybe just a little arousing).

“try the pancakes,” he tells her, pushing the syrup closer to her. she nods enthusiastically, slathering the pancakes the maple syrup and taking a big bite.

the girl groans, and her head falls into her hand, savoring the taste. she doesn’t think she’s ever had pancakes so good.

“i could kiss you right now,” she looks back up at him. he lets out a breath of amusement and his cheeks warm with her praise.

“i’m glad you like it.”

“no, seriously, i’m…going to kiss you.” she tells him, putting a hand on the table and leaning over it. she grabs his shirt and pulls him in, kissing him firmly.

the man lets out a soft groan of surprise, enthusiastically reciprocating. she tastes like maple syrup.

when the girl pulls back, he grabs her face and pulls her back in, wanting another sweet taste. it’s better than any pancakes he’s ever made.

carmen loosens his grip on her face and she slowly pulls away, pressing a last kiss to his lips before sitting back down. she gives him a mischievous smile and continues eating her breakfast.

“go sit down,” she tells him, taking the pan from him, “you already cooked, let me clean up.”

“we can do it together,” he compromises, “it’ll be faster.”

she shakes her head, making a pile of dishes in the sink and turning on the hot water.

“no. go sit down and relax,” she demands, beginning to scrub.

she feels arms wrap around her waist, feels lips on her neck.

“so bossy,” he chides in between kisses, pressing his hips against her backside. she lets out a slow breath, leaning into his touch. her eyes flutter as she feels his hand creep under her shirt, splaying over her stomach. she’s not wearing anything besides his oversized shirt, and her skin suddenly feels hot from his touch. she arches into him slightly, and he bites her neck.

it feels very domestic, fighting over who would clean up the kitchen. it feels domestic wearing his shirt and being pressed up against the counter by him, skin littered with his bruises, lips intertwined with his name.

carmy begins to lift the borrowed shirt up, kisses trailing up to her ear, hand coming to squeeze her breast.

the girl releases a soft noise, completely distracted by her task of washing dishes. her head falls back against his shoulder, and she leans into his touch.

carmen thinks of telling her to strip the shirt off. thinks of hoisting her up onto the counter and eating her out until she cums. touching her until she cries.

he pushes the shirt up further.

knock knock knock

they both startle and look to the front door. carmen checks the time, and his heart drops a bit.

he pulls away from the girl and runs a hand through his curls.

“who is it?” she asks him, observing his look of stress.

“it’s, uh….fuck. just wait right here, okay?” his hands fall from his hips and he stalks to the closet by the front door, pulling out a scarf she doesn’t recognize.

he opens the door halfway, and she hears a familiar woman’s voice greeting him.

her face gets hot. her chest feels tight.

“claire,” he greets quietly, thrusting the scarf forward, “here.”

“ugh, thank you, carmy. i’m so forgetful sometimes.”

“no problem. i should, uh-”

“it smells good in there,” claire comments, peaking in.

carmen steps back, eyes darting over to his roommate. she stands with her arms crossed, leaning against the counter, staring at him.

“i’m uh…cooking breakfast,” he turns back to claire, “so i should probably get back to that. i’ll see yo-”

“-i was thinking we could talk?” she cuts him off, “can i come in?”

“i don’t know if that’s…,” carmen hesitates. he glances to his roommate to find her walking behind him towards the stairs.

claire’s eyes follow the girl, taking in her attire. carmy watches her expression slightly falter.

his roommate stalks up the stairs. was walking behind him in plain sight a little petty? maybe. but she’s sick of carmy never saying exactly what he means. she undoes the hair tie holding together her messy updo, walking to her room.

she quickly grabs a change of clothes and rushes into to the bathroom to shower, feeling the overwhelming need to leave the apartment.

the front door slams shut, and she hears his steps ascend the stairs.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto imagine #the bear imagine

406 notes · View notes

icyminghao · 1 year

Text

workplace crush

pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader genre: fluff, workplace!au warning(s): brief mentions of food word count: 1k

summary: jeon wonwoo, also known as the company’s “IT Department Crush”, doesn’t seem to faze you in the slightest, much to your best friend’s dismay.

a/n: meant to be the couple from here, but can also be read as a standalone

“Oh my god! There he is again, look!” Minhee, your childhood best friend and current colleague at work, exclaims suddenly, tapping your arm with a newfound fervor.

“Who?” you deadpan, poking at your lunch with your fork.

“It’s Jeon Wonwoo! Sejeong really wasn’t kidding when she said he was the IT Department’s eye-candy,”

The name raises an eyebrow, but you’re quick to shake it off and regain control of your poker face.

“Jeon Wonwoo, huh? He looks okay,” you reply without turning to look at the subject of the conversation.

“Just okay? Come on, y/n! Just because you have a boyfriend doesn’t mean you can’t admit that Mr. White Button-down over there is hot as shit,” Minhee scoffs in amusement as she urges you to sneak a glance at the man of the hour. Deciding to appease your friend, you turn around to do just that and find the acclaimed Jeon Wonwoo sitting at a nearby table with a few other people, presumably his colleagues. He’s dressed in a white button-down with rolled up sleeves and a pair of navy-blue jeans, and to top it all off, he’s sporting a pair of horn-rimmed glasses you’ve never seen anyone pull off better than him.

“My boyfriend’s hotter,” you shrug, going back to eating your food. Minhee purses her lips in thought at the response.

“Is he? Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him,” she muses.

“You haven’t? No way,” you respond immediately, quick to wave off Minhee’s observation.

“What do you mean, ‘no way’? You haven’t introduced your boyfriend to any of us! I’ve been dying to see who exactly met your sky-high standards,” Minhee whines, much to your amusement.

“You’d be surprised,” you chuckle and look up to see that Minhee’s attention has been diverted to something (or someone) behind you.

“Pause. Don’t look, but Mr. IT Department Crush is coming our way right now,” Minhee’s voice drops an octave as she whispers through gritted teeth, eyes widened in warning. You suppress an amused smile at her behaviour and watch as a certain Jeon Wonwoo takes a seat beside you. All the while, Minhee looks on the situation with a wide-open mouth as you try your hardest to hold in your laughter.

“Hey, y/n,” Wonwoo greets you as he settles down, then turns to nod at Minhee, who nods back in equal parts confusion and awe, “Jeonghan was wondering whether you wanted to join us for karaoke night later?”

“Sorry, Wonwoo, but I have plans with Minhee tonight. Maybe next time?” you frown apologetically at having to reject Wonwoo’s proposal, but he simply nods in response, flashing you the smallest of smiles in return.

“It’s okay. I’ll see you later?” he hums in response before nodding once again at Minhee in greeting and leaving, presumably to return to his colleagues at the IT Department.

Silence ensues as you and Minhee blink at each other for a solid minute or so, before Minhee lets out a huge breath and breaks the silence.

“Did you just… have a whole conversation with the IT Department Crush? You never told me you knew him!” Minhee whisper-shouts, slapping your arm lightly for dramatic effect. You rub your arm and feign an injury, to which Minhee simply pouts at you in response.

“You never asked!” you reason.

“No wonder you didn’t bat an eye when I talked about him!” Minhee huffs, crossing her arms as she squints at you. You shrug, bursting into laughter at Minhee’s behaviour.

“Whatever. My girlfriend’s hotter, anyway.”

“y/n…” Minhee suddenly drawls halfway through your meal with her, and you hum in amusement.

“Earlier, what did IT Department Crush mean by ‘see you later’? You’ve been with me the whole time since lunch break and we’re off work now,” Minhee furrows her eyebrows in thought, and you tilt your head in confusion, trying to recall the interaction.

“He did? Must have been a slip of the tongue,” you shrug nonchalantly, and Minhee leans forward, putting on a look that you know she always puts on whenever she’s about to analyse something (or someone).

“The two of you seem close,” she muses, clearly suspicious, much to your amusement.

“You could say that,” you hum, pursing your lips together. Minhee purses her lips together in thought before shrugging in response.

“Eh. Anyway, did you see the boss’s new outfit today? I’m dying to know where she got it from,” your best friend is quick to change the topic, and the subject of a certain eye-candy of the IT Department is quickly forgotten for the rest of the dinner with Minhee.

“How are you going home tonight? We could give you a ride, my girlfriend’s coming soon.” Minhee asks after the both of you had stepped out of the restaurant, greeted by the glittering moonlight shining down on the streets bustling with nightlife.

“Oh, it’s okay, my boyfriend’s coming over,” you politely reject Minhee’s offer just as a white sedan pulls up in front of you. Minhee sighs.

“There goes my chance of meeting your mystery of a boyfriend,” Minhee fake-whines, “I’ll see you next week, okay? Let us see him soon!”

“Yeah, yeah, I will!” you chuckle, waving Minhee and her girlfriend goodbye as they drive off, leaving you alone on the street.

Shortly after, you hear the familiar roar of an engine, and your boyfriend pulls up in his navy blue coupe, rolling down the passenger window to send you a greeting smile.

“Hey, darling,” you greet as you enter his car, settling down before looking at him in entirety. He’s still wearing the same white button-down from earlier, but his hair looks a bit tousled as compared to how neat it was just this morning. You reach forward and ruffle his locks just because.

“How was today?” Wonwoo grins at the touch, giving you a small peck on the cheek before driving again.

“Well, I heard from Minhee that you’ve garnered quite the reputation in the company,” you decide to tease him.

“I have?” Wonwoo replies, confused.

“They call you the IT Department Crush,” you explain, watching him closely for a reaction.

“I guess that’s pretty accurate, considering you had a crush on me,” Wonwoo chuckles, reaching a hand out to rest on your thigh affectionately.

“You had a crush on me first! Must I remind you how Soonyoung-”

“Okay, baby, you win,” Wonwoo concedes, “I had a crush on you first.”

“It’s okay, darling,” you giggle, “We had a crush on each other.”

Wonwoo groans. “You’re lame.”

a/n 2: 230926 jeon wonwoo you will be the death of me (also this was pretty bad i’m sorry lol)

taglist: @slytherinshua @xomingyu @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @dahliatopia @kwantaro @chanceonceli

masterlist

2K notes · View notes

distantdarlings · 10 months

Text

HABITUAL // t. nott

RATING: PG-13 / 4.3K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert (Requested)

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this (changed slightly)* Annoyed that Theo won't seem to make a move, despite your growing feelings for each other, you ask a friend of the both of you to help make him jealous.

+ WARNINGS - Language, brief sensuality, kissing, two time skips, making Theo jealous, brief fake-dating

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Ribs - Lorde

---

Professor Trelawney’s voice droned on as your quill lazily scratched across your notebook. You were between listening to what she was saying and sleeping, and your brain slowly tilted toward the second. She was rambling on about the properties of a crystal ball above all other vectors for sight-seeing. Something about its curvature made the answers come to you clearer…

Your quill tip ran dry and made a slightly louder scratch against the parchment, sending a nasty shudder down your spine. Your eyes darted over to your inkwell and noticed that it was practically empty. A deep sigh ran through your body, depressing your shoulders. Why was it you always ran out of something when you needed it most? Maybe grabbing a replacement would wake you up a bit. You raised your hand and waited for the long-winded professor to catch sight of it.

“Oh, yes, what is it?” she stared at you through her hugely magnified glasses, tilting her head back slightly to catch that sweet spot in them.

“I’ve run out of ink. I was just wondering if I could—” A tap on your shoulder interrupted your question. You turned towards the owner of the hand and spotted Theodore. A small smile spread across your lips as a small backup inkwell was displayed in his hand. You nodded your thanks and grabbed it from him, intending to let the professor continue her lecture.

“Never mind that, Professor Trelawney!” you said, flashing a brief smile at the eccentric woman. She nodded and continued as if she’d never stopped. You wondered when she’d take her next breath.

“You’re welcome, gorgeous,” a small whisper said next to your ear. You smiled at Theo’s flirtatious nature, knowing he’d use this little favor to ask for something in return later. He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before backing up. You rolled your eyes, promising to get him back for that.

By the end of class, your stomach was growling, and your mind was exhausted. It was a good thing you didn’t have divinity again until Wednesday because you didn’t think you’d make it if you didn’t get a small break from her each week. And thank Merlin, your next class wasn’t until after lunch.

You gathered your things and let them slide into your bag. The boys behind you had begun to do the same as you headed towards the door. They were always behind you for whatever reason. You weren’t sure. Maybe it was just a boy thing.

“Hey!” Theo’s voice came from behind you. You turned to catch him jogging toward you with his hands tightened around his bag straps. You stopped and flashed a smile, watching as his eyes briefly flashed down to your lips. You withheld any physical reaction so as not to embarrass him. “Are you still eating with us?”

“Of course, I am,” you say, “I always do. It wouldn’t be a good day without having lunch with my favorite boy.” You gently touched your thumb and forefinger to his chin, teasing him just a bit. You saw his lips part as soon as your skin came into contact with his—just as it always did.

“I’m your favorite boy?” he chuckled, letting a smirk fall over his lips. He readjusted his bag over his shoulders. Your fingers came up to separate your collar from your neck, allowing just a breath of skin to flash over his eyes. You watched as he glanced down at every inch of you that was revealed to him, and his throat slid up nervously. You could play him like a piano, and it was addicting.

“Am I interrupting something?” Mattheo asked, coming up behind the two of you. His voice sliced the tension between the two of you in half.

“Nope, we were just getting ready to head down to the Great Hall,” you replied. “Are you eating with us?”

“Duh, who else am I going to eat with?” Mattheo asked. You rolled your eyes at him and looped your arm through Theo’s, allowing him to lead the way to the dining hall. Enzo quickly jogged up beside the group, falling in step with the rest of them. Your big brother had a habit of always being the latest to the party. It was one of his many endearing qualities.

Your group appeared before the vast doors of the Great Hall, allowing them to quickly swallow you all up as you realized that everyone else was just as starving as you were. You selected your usual seats at the far end of the long Slytherin table and dug in. Soon enough, yours and everyone else’s plates were piled high with the many options laid out before you.

“Merlin, help us all….if that wasn’t the most boring class yet,” Mattheo sighed into his food. The rest of you laughed at his confession, all nodding in agreement. Trelawney’s class was rarely exciting, but when it was boring, it was really boring.

“The only bit of excitement was you asking for some new ink,” Theo nodded toward you, a bit of a roll pressed between his teeth. You smiled and shook your head.

“And, of course, you were there, right to the rescue,” you laughed. “I was hoping I could leave the class and grab a replacement from my dorm to wake myself up a little.”

“My bad, I thought I was helping.”

“You were…unfortunately,” you replied. The four of you laughed in response, knowing well enough that they all had done something to try and get out of the squirrely professor’s class. A comfortable silence ensued soon after as the group finished up their meals and let the large meal settle sweetly on their stomachs.

“I’m really tired now,” you groaned, laying your head down against the table. You felt a hand reach over and gently brush its fingers along your hair. You assumed it was Theo, as he habitually absentmindedly touched you somehow. You figured you were a sort of stress ball to him. A small laugh touched your chest at the thought.

“Teddy, can I sit on your lap?” you asked, already knowing his answer.

“Of course, love, come here,” he responded. The three boys had begun to discuss some kind of new broom headed towards the Quidditch market, and, to be entirely honest, you couldn’t care less about it. All the more reason for you to doze off just a bit in Theo’s lap. You pulled yourself up and stepped over your side of the bench. You walked around the edge of the table, sleepily approaching Theo. Though his attention remained on his friends, his legs slid open and his arm pushed out, allowing you to be able to slip onto his lap.

You gently grabbed his shoulder and stepped between his legs, settling yourself on his lap. Once you were seated, his arm slid firmly around your waist, sliding his fingers comfortably beneath the waistband of your skirt. You set your head on his shoulder, pressing your face close to his neck, letting your lips brush his skin every once in a while. If he could avoid any romantic feelings from this, he either genuinely disliked you or was utterly numb to all physical affection.

Your goal for the last few weeks was to muster up every bit of courage the universe had blessed you with and completely take it out on Theo. The feelings and the tension sustained between the two of you were too obvious for it to mean nothing. He had feelings for you, you’d bet your final grade on it.

Just as your lips brushed his skin a third time, you noticed a trail of chills travel down the back of his neck. He shuddered slightly. You suppressed a smile. Just a little bit more…

“Teddy,” you whispered in his ear. He all but jumped and turned to look at you.

“What is it, darling?” he asked, sucking his bottom lip roughly between his teeth. Your eyes watched the motion for a few seconds before popping back up to his eyes.

“I was just wondering if you wanted me to rub your back a bit?” you asked, smiling innocently. “I know how sore it gets after Quidditch practice.”

His eyes glanced between your lips and your eyes, savoring every detail of your face. The front of his pants tightened a bit, pushing a small adjustment out of him. He grabbed your waist, lifted you gently, slid his legs forward and farther apart, then set you back down. Heat pooled in your lower stomach at his ability to pick you up like it was nothing. Damn it, you had a raging crush on him.

“Uh, no, darling,” he breathed, eyes fully pulling away from you now. “I’m alright, maybe another time…and, actually, I think I’ll just…” he trails off, gently sliding you off his leg and onto the seat next to him. Disappointment and rejection swirl in your chest with every aching breath. He’d never done anything but be affectionate with you, but for some reason, he was acting off today.

He got to his feet, completely avoiding all eye contact, and headed off from the table with another word. Your lips parted in surprise as you watched him walk off towards the exit. The boys behind you had stopped talking, and you turned to catch their attention.

“What is his problem?” Mattheo asked.

“I have no idea,” you respond slowly, glancing back toward the double doors as if he might walk in again.

xxx

Later that evening, after all of your classes for the day had ended and dinner was revving up in the Great Hall, you sat on your bed, torn between a couple of things. For one, you were starved and wanted to grab some dinner; two, you were too scared you’d bump into Theo while you were down there and add a second painfully awkward interaction to the day; and three, your stomach was churning so violently with nerves and nausea, you were sure you’d puke if you ate anything or had one more thought about Theodore Nott.

Every time lunch popped into your head again, you nearly hurled. That was easily one of the most embarrassing things that had ever happened to you, and you’d fallen off your broom during Quidditch while the whole school was watching.

Maybe he’d lost feelings for you. That would explain the strange distance between the two of you today. But it didn’t make sense why it was so sudden. Had you upset him or made him uncomfortable today? You weren’t sure. Your brain ached from all of the contemplating and speed runs of scenarios you’d been doing the past hour.

You could ask Enzo or Mattheo to see if they had any insight into their friend’s brain, but you figured that might be a little rude. You didn’t want Theo to think you were a coward or were trying to talk about him behind his back. Fuck.

Then, as if he was summoned by the force of your mind, Mattheo Riddle gave a brief knock and presented himself in the doorway. A smile pulled its way across your face at the appearance of the dark boy. You waved him over and gave a small pat to the space beside you.

“Hey,” he said, sliding himself beside you.

“What’s up?” He kicks his shoes off and props his feet onto the bed, one resting comfortably over the other.

“Nothing much. I was just coming to see if you knew what was up with Theo today?” he asked, crossing his hands over his stomach.

“Actually, I was just thinking of coming to ask you or Enzo that,” you admit. “I have no idea what happened today. We didn’t talk the rest of the day.”

“Weird…” Mattheo trailed off. There were a few moments of empty silence as the two of you rested against your headboard, basking in each other’s company. After a while, his arm came up to slide around your shoulders. You slid closer to him and rested a head on his shoulder, the collar of his shirt gently tickling your nose.

If you could remain like this for the rest of forever, you would. Mattheo had always been like another brother to you. Another overprotective Enzo to watch over you in everything you did, and, as annoying as that sounded (and sometimes was), you really did appreciate having them around you. You enjoyed Theo in that way, as well, though you admit that you wish something more would bloom between the two of you. A thought pops into your head.

“Matty,” you breathe, your eyes widening significantly. His eyes follow yours to see if he could catch what had shocked you so much.

“What?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“If I ask you for the hugest favor on earth, would you do it?”

“Well, that is kind of vague,” he points out, “what is the favor?” He watches you for a few moments as you struggle with what to say. A million details are running through your head, with possibilities and worst-case scenarios flashing around, making everything seem like one big, jumbled mess in your brain. But, despite the cacophony of opportunities flying around in your head, one thesis stood clear.

“Would you help me make Theo jealous?” you ask. Mattheo choked on his spit. The face he gives you makes you laugh out loud.

“I’m sorry?” he asks.

“I want you to help me make Theo jealous, like, you know, pretend to date me for a few days.”

“Are you joking? Theo would kill me. I’m not risking that!” he exclaims, removing his arm from behind you to cross them.

“Please, Matty, I’d never ask you for another favor again!”

“No! He already likes you. Why don’t you just ask him out?” he asks. You knew that Theo had feelings for you, just as he knew you had feelings for him, but hearing Mattheo confirm that aloud had you blushing. You supposed there was always the possibility you were wrong about Theo liking you and the two of you were just friends, but friends didn’t look at each other like the two of you did with eyes full of longing and hot lust.

“Because I’m too nervous. I want him to make the first move,” you explain. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. A deep sigh pushed through his nose as he appeared to be contemplating. You waited in silence for a few moments, allowing him to weigh his options, though you knew what his answer would be. He never told you no.

“Alright—”

“Yes! Oh, thank you, thank you! I promise I’ll make it up to you!” You threw yourself onto him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. He groaned at the sudden weight flung over him and reluctantly held you back. You could practically hear him rolling his eyes but, no matter how close he got to Theo, he’d always had a soft spot for you. You smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Okay, okay, back up,” he sighed. “How do we do it?”

“So, this was my plan…”

You went over every detail of the well-thought-out plan you’d devised over the last few hours, making sure to leave nothing out. Every few moments, Mattheo’s eyebrows would raise, or he would start to protest, but he never backed out. And if he tried to, you’d just beg him some more.

So once you’d gone over everything successfully, you had Mattheo lead you downstairs with your fingers intertwined together. This had to work.

The two of you stalked into the Great Hall, your stomach churning with anxiety and Mattheo’s preparing himself to run if needed. Your fingers squeezed his every so often, trying to wring the nerves out but failing miserably. Your eyes landed on the group sitting at your table and you made your way over.

“Hey, guys…” Enzo started and trailed off as his eyes traced the two of you, falling to where the two of you met in the middle. At Enzo’s sudden silence, Theo turned to look at the two of you. Your intertwined fingers clenched tightly, Mattheo’s thumb lightly tracing yours.

“Hey,” you said, smiling sweetly. You avoided all eye contact as the two of you sat down beside Enzo, with you directly across from Theo. Mattheo’s arm wrapped around your shoulders and you leaned into him. Still, you refused to look at Theo, but out of the corner of your eye, you could see his eyes widened and lips slightly parted.

“Friendly tonight, are we?” Enzo asked, stabbing a bit of potato with his fork. He seemed to be hiding a smile. You shot him a knowing glance.

“Shut up,” you joke. “We’ve just…”

“Gotten a bit closer?” Mattheo pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, and you giggled in response. Damn, this acting deserved an award. You glanced at Theo's fist tightening, joints cracking slightly.

“Since when?” he asked, his voice baring through gritted teeth. Your eyes found him finally and your smile dropped a bit.

“Since he asked me out earlier today,” you retorted, the attitude laid on just a bit. His lips snapped shut and his eyes glanced away. He seemed less confident now, because—you hoped—he’d figured out your irritation with his refusal to move forward with your relationship.

“So, are you guys a thing now?” Enzo asked, not bothered in the slightest.

“You could call us that,” you giggled, fake-teasing Mattheo. Nerves broiled in your stomach as you discreetly pinched his hip. That had been the code the two of you had come up with to signal when you were going to do your kiss. This was going to be the big sale and it had to be realistic.

He leaned down and gently cupped your bottom lip with his, sending a wave of butterflies to your stomach. Damn, he was a good kisser. You pressed your lips back into him, admiring the feel of him. In all reality, the kiss only lasted about five seconds, but under the heat of the eyes before you, it felt like hours. When he pulled away, you flashed him a small smile.

Theo rose quickly and headed to the door, never once looking back. This has been the second time in one day he’d stormed off and you felt a bit embarrassed, to be honest. Maybe this wasn’t going to have the desired effect. You groaned and set your head against the table.

“Not working out for you?” Enzo chuckled.

“Shut up!” you shouted into your arms, the sound muffled.

“You know…” Mattheo was right at your ear. You glanced up at him, tilting your head to the side. “You’re a pretty good kisser.” A smirk spread across his lips. You blushed

“Ugh, stop, Matty…you’re a good kisser too.” The three of you burst out laughing, reveling in the appreciation of each other’s company, before remembering why you were here. You really didn’t want to continue with this, it made you feel guilty, and there was always the chance this wouldn’t work. You sighed. You would have to go big or go home, and you weren’t a quitter.

xxx

The next morning was a Saturday and Mattheo and you had planned a fake picnic date by the Whomping Willow. The plan was to enjoy a meal right within sight of where Theo was going to toss a Quaffle around with a couple of his friends. This had to work or you risked ruining your relationship with Theo. You prayed that this would give him the confidence to approach you.

The two of you set the blanket and snacks out, settling in and beginning to eat. Enzo said that he had overheard that Theo was going to head out around eleven. It was currently fifteen ‘till, so you figured it wouldn’t be too long. Or you hoped that, anyway.

“So, what if this doesn’t work?” Mattheo breaks the silence, nursing a small bottle of pumpkin juice.

“I was just thinking about that,” you laughed nervously, “I don’t actually know. I’m hoping he won’t hate me, but I’m more concerned he will hate you too.”

“I’m not too concerned about that. It’s alright. I’m just happy to help.”

“Are you sure you don’t want anything in return?” you ask, peeling the crust off your sandwich.

“I’ll just hang onto the favor for a rainy day,” he smirks. You roll your eyes and laugh gently.

Above the two of you, a group of four players on brooms soar over you. You gasp and scoot closer to Mattheo, getting into position. He wrapped his arm around you and started to pretend to joke about something with you. You glanced Theo watching the two of you every so often. He would look for only a few seconds before turning his head away when his friends called his name. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to get hit in the head with the Quaffle (in which case, you’d laugh, but now wasn’t the time for that).

“You know,” Mattheo started, “this is nice. We should do this more often.”

“What, have picnics?” you laugh, popping a grape into your mouth.

“Sure, if you want,” he chuckled. “I just meant the hanging out part. I feel like I only see you whenever your brother’s around.”

“Yeah, it’s almost like he’s my brother and I love him,” you laughed. He shook his head in an attempt to hide his smile, but soon enough, the both of you were laughing. His head was thrown back as it racked his body, and your hand gripped his shirt sleeve to steady yourself.

“Hey, I need to talk to you—” The two of you snapped out of your moment of comedy at the sound of a voice. Your eyes squinted against the sun slightly before making contact with Theo. Mattheo glanced over at you and shrugged his shoulders, urging you on with his hand. Theo reached down and offered you his hand, which you took and allowed him to pull you to your feet. He marched the two of you over to the nearest courtyard, never letting go of your hand. Your stomach flushed.

“Theo, what is—?” He pulled you to a stop behind one of the courtyard’s stone pillars. Your eyes found his; the only sound was the slight breeze and the gurgle of the fountain behind him. He glanced down to your lips, his breaths exiting in heavy pants. Merlin, you wanted to kiss him.

“I have to ask you one question,” he said. You started to speak, but his thumb pressed gently against your bottom lip. “No, just wait one minute.”

His eyes fell to the ground between the two of you. It appeared that he was trying to figure out precisely what he wanted to say. His lips parted several times, the words of confession dancing along the edges of them. The frustration in his eyes set off an ache in your chest that you couldn’t suppress. You wanted to kiss him so bad, so bad, so bad.

“One question…and then I’ll leave you alone,” he said. You nodded slowly. “Do you really like Mattheo? Is that why the two of you are together?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. That was definitely different from what you thought he was going to ask. You stuttered a few times before shutting your mouth. You didn’t know what to say. His eyes refused to leave yours, beckoning every inch of the truth out of you. He wanted to know if your feelings toward him were the same as his towards you. He fought the urge to reach out and press his lips against yours. Just one word, and he would. You sighed.

“No,” you confessed, “I don’t.” His stomach flipped. Yours did, too. You wanted to explain yourself, run through every detail of the plan devised between Mattheo and you but you were too ashamed. Luckily, he didn’t care why you were with Mattheo, other than you didn’t care for the boy as he previously thought you’d done. His hands slid easily along your cheeks, carefully tracing the soft skin there. He was testing the waters, wanting so badly to touch you and anticipating the possibility of a slap.

“Can I ask one more question?” he whispered against your lips, the salty taste of his sweat dabbing against the tip of your tongue. You nodded breathlessly.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his eyes never leaving your parted lips. You didn’t answer. You pressed your lips roughly to his, hearing the sharp intake of breath he took as his hands tightened around your head. He held you in place, pressing you against the stone pillar behind you. Your hands came up to wrap around his waist, clenching the material of his shirt beneath your fingers. His hands dropped to the front of you, pushing you tightly against the pillar, fingers curving against your hipbones. Fuck. You were such a coward; you should have done this ages ago.

When the two of you finally parted, reluctantly choosing air over each other, you did nothing but stare at the other. Heavy pants left the two of you; your hands clutched the other’s bodies, leaving little space between the two of you. Neither of you had words. All he could think to do was fold you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you with a hold like a vice. Your head turned and tucked itself into his shoulder where it had rested so many times before. And through your contentedly parted eyes, you could distantly see Mattheo, on the picnic blanket, smugly raising his pumpkin juice bottle to the two of you.

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #fem reader

2K notes · View notes