xia˚⊱🪷⊰˚

"It's fine, I can manage. You both should rest too; Iori has been giving you a hell of a week," you chuckled, looking over their shoulder as if you could peek at the softly cradled baby boy sleeping tight inside their house. "Besides, Bao will keep me company."

The donkey huffed and again nudged your arm with his nose, as if exhaustion had weighed on his eyelids too. His lovely, furry face shook from the snowflakes, and you noticed that the gravel road was slowly turning into an unfathomable, almost fairy-tale-like realm of ice and frost.

"Come visit the restaurant when you have time. Oh, and we'll see each other next month during the Lunar New Year, right?" you said, checking whether the donkey was harnessed to the cart.

You patted his back to signal it was time to leave. Bao began to walk slowly, remembering the straight road to your village in his young, tender heart, and so he led the way, with you a few steps behind.

"How about you come to us the day before? We can cook together!" Maki smiled, waving you gently goodbye.

You nodded and waved back as well, walking backwards just to keep their beaming faces in view for as long as possible. The powdered coldness beneath your feet crunched, while the evening's biting wind nipped at your cheeks with icy kisses.

After a while, as the road curled, they disappeared behind the tall trees, and so you joined Bao's side, chattering away in his soft ears.

"I'll earn a lot during the Lunar New Year and buy you plenty of hay. Oh, and also the salt blocks. I know you love those, but they're too expensive," you giggled, watching Bao's calm muzzle. Still, his ears twitched and his short tail wagged happily, so you knew that the donkey loved your company just as much as you loved his. "And then we can open a second restaurant. What do you think? Perhaps I’ll even get you a friend, just to keep you company."

Bao huffed warm air and blinked slowly, still walking forwards.

The forest road soon widened, and the tall trees opened out onto a broad riverbank. Crystalline water flowed gently, carrying thin plates of ice that melted, froze, and melted again, dampened by the river. The brisk, freezing air bit into your lungs, slipping through the constantly babbling mouth. The skin on your lips was slightly chapped, so you licked them out of habit and cursed shortly after.

As evening turned into night and heavy clouds blanketed the round moon, you hung a small lamp on the cart. The flame flickered along with the rolling court, giving you a faint light.

You were close, just twenty minutes on foot or so, as you've noticed the familiar old wooden bridge crossing the river and the soaring tree that has stood there since the day you were born. Now, bare like a baby, with lush leaves long gone and branches stripped and frozen, with an icicle hanging from them like a threat.

Bao suddenly halted in the middle of the road. His two coal-black eyes looked down, and his nose huffed warm breath onto the snow.

"What is it, Bao?" you asked and squatted down. "Why did we stop?"

But the donkey was tugging at something with his nose, pushing and pushing until, with a faint warmth emanating from the lamp, you realised that something was hidden beneath the snow.

"Oh my, is that another treasure?" you giggled, recalling the time when you'd found a freshly killed fox and made yourself a warm coat out of its lush fur.

But Bao was just huffing and puffing, melting the thick powder with his warm breath. You helped him dig out whatever was hidden beneath it, and… oh.

You jumped back, suddenly landing on the frosty ground. Your breath hitched, stuck in your chilled throat. Eyes bulged like two porcelain plates as they glanced down at the face that surfaced from beneath the waves of heavy snow.

White and pallid, reminding you of a ghost you've only heard about in cautionary tales, and so you were told not to wander alone at night. All the stories you've listened to as a child suddenly flooded your mind, because now, right there, the ghost must have been right in front of you.

But the Bao wasn't panicking. If he did, it would mean that the man covered in snow was a spectral creature indeed. Yet he wasn't, because the moment Bao licked his pale cheek, the man's brows furrowed and a low groan slipped past his lips.

He was alive.

Barely, yet alive, so you crawled closer and dug him out from beneath the snow. The long, white fingers looked almost purple, and his breathing was shallow, but he was alive.

A bit dirty and bloodied, as you've noticed a crimson trail slipping down his temple. The lean cheeks flushed with colour, lips pale, and you gazed at him for a long time before Bao nudged your arm.

You couldn't bring the man home. As you were unmarried and living alone at that. Taking a man back home would lead to the generational scandal the village had never seen before.

The image of all the elderly aunts flooded your mind – their scrunched faces, spit landing in front of your gate, the gossip that would fill the whole village to the point where you would be forced to move somewhere else. The house and a small noodle shop after your parents were all you had left and all you had been fighting for over the past few months, so you could give up on it for the sake of some stranger.

Beautiful, simply ethereal, yet a stranger.

Bao was looming over your shoulder. His warm breath hit your cheek as he nudged it with his nose.

"I can't," you whispered, pressing the hand to the man's cheek. "I don't know what to do. Taking him back is too risky," you looked over your shoulder, eyes crossing with two shining coals.

Bao didn't say anything. Of course he didn't, but simply nudged your cheek again, as if wishing to let you know that it was the right way.

That's what your parents would want.

Because Bao was your father's dearest donkey ever since he was saved from a butcher. One year old then, he began to follow your father everywhere – whether in the fields or on a simple walk to the larger village – and so they enjoyed each other's company for three whole years. Then, both he and your mother died, leaving you and Bao on your own.

You knew he was an animal. Yet, sometimes, you thought that years spent in your father's presence taught him about the unwavering morality and kindness your father held in his heart for others. For people and animals and the gods who walked the earth among everyone else, as no one should be in pain and no one is doomed to a life of misery.

The man lying in front of you was one of those, your father would help headfirst. Dressed in nothing but a flimsy, wet robe. The river must have spat him out, and so he rested there for half the day.

By morning, he would be dead.

Bao nudged your arm again. A long, heavy breath escaped your throat, head hanging between slumped shoulders.

"Fine," fell quietly, almost a murmur, but the donkey heard it.

His fluffy ears trembled, and long, sticky tongue pressed against your cheek.

"Oh, Bao, but you must come closer with this cart. I need to pack him up there."

The donkey, as the smartest animal you truly thought he was, stepped forward and let the cart roll closer to the man.

He seemed tall and muscular, but you've been kneading dough and lifting pigs since you were a teenager, so lifting him was no problem. With a quick squat and a hand wrapped around his arms, you hoisted him onto your back. Too short to take him whole, but strong enough to roll him onto the cart. Under the white material, he was joined by the fresh, bloody pig's meat.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you saw this ethereal man lying among the heavy, grimy slabs. His white hair clung to the raw flesh, cheeks stained crimson, and his body curled around the pig's heart you had saved for the tasty broth.

"I'm sorry," you whispered and covered him back with a cloth. Your palm met with the donkey's back as you giggled. "Let's go, Bao! Lives have to be saved!"

𑁤 𑁤 𑁤

Satoru didn't feel cold anymore.

The snow that had melted beneath his body was gone, and the peppered flakes covering his cheeks suddenly vanished.

His fingers could move despite the biting frost seeping through his skin, and his head rested on something plush.

He no longer felt cold; instead, a deep heat licked his back, with a sizzling, flaming tongue beading sweat on his forehead. A fever, perhaps, or just heaps of fur that he noticed the moment his eyes opened.

The place felt strange. Certainly not a tent he would use on the battlefield nor his quarters in the capital. It wasn't lavish at all, dressed in the rich style he was accustomed to, but he wouldn't call it poor either.

Rather cozy, homey, and he looked around the wooden walls and thin rice-paper doors that now were shut tight. The small bed was creaking under his body as he wriggled, trying to free himself from the heavy piles of fur.

Turning his head to the side, he noticed how tiny the room truly was. Just a small bed, a table with a stool, and a bookshelf filled with folded clothes instead. A bowl of fruit sat on the small table, and a cup of paste – smelly, thick. When his eyes dropped to his bandaged chest, he saw dried traces of it on himself, seeping through the white cloth.

His head throbbed, and his mind sounded an alarm – the sooner he left this place, the better. There was a battle to finish. An empire to defend. An emperor to whom he needed to report.

An army to take care of.

He was the Marquis of all – the highest in rank within the imperial army, wielding an authority that clasped the entire empire in his iron fist.

He was important.

Yet now, he could barely move, and an attempt to sit up was enough to bead another droplet of sweat upon his forehead. The bleak dizziness covered his sight for a brief second, but long enough for someone to slip into the room.

He didn't have his sword, so the only option was to reach for the chopsticks lying carelessly on the bedside table and prepare himself for an attack.

If it was just one man, he would deal with him without a problem. It wasn't the first time he fought with broken ribs and a twisted ankle, yet surely the first time he was alone, without any of his soldiers to cover his back.

Even so, the moment his eyes landed on a person slipping through the door, something within him melted.

Fingers let the chopsticks fall onto the fur bedding, and air pressed against his lips, ready to be inhaled in a gasp. Eyes, mingling like two snowflakes, bulged as he saw a woman slowly walking his way with a trail.

With lovely cheeks kissed by the lantern's dancing flame, stained with a red mark of sorts. Hair falling loosely over the blue robes. Plain, yet neatly embroidered with brown thread that wrapped around the wide, fur-lined sleeves. A white collar loosely hugged your neck, revealing another layer of robes hidden just beneath.

When your eyes looked up from two warm bowls, Satoru thought he had never seen a smile so radiant. Forming your cheeks into soft dumplings – sweet and giggly – as you walked gently towards the bed.

"Finally!" you clasped the moment two bowls were put down on the table. "I was afraid I'd killed you!"

Satoru's lips parted slightly. His eyes remained fixed on your face, as if its mere beauty had taken his breath away. He didn't say anything – he couldn't say anything – and so fluttered his lashes a few times.

And you, on the other hand, stepped from toe to toe, with shame and humiliation filling you up to your fingertips. You knew he was someone of noble descent, but only now, seeing his face fully awake, you've truly felt like a simple, foolish peasant.

Slightly too strong for a woman and too smart-mouthed. With an almost too demanding manner and a not-so-charming side whenever someone bothered you. You were hot-headed, acted too masculine, as aunties in the neighbourhood loved to chirp, and carried yourself with an air that simply scared off potential husbands.

You were anything but lovely, unlike the noble ladies who reminded you of delicate jasmine petals blooming during spring. So now, standing in front of the man who could have been the imperial son himself, you coughed shyly and wavered on your toes.

"But I didn't," you simply added, noticing his bulging eyes. Blue, almost white, like the snowflakes clinging to the papered windows. "It's just that… I've never treated a human, and so I gave you half the horse dose of medicine. But that's because you're tall and heavy, so I thought that it would… well…"

Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your robes, and a warmth hit your cheeks as you noticed his eyes follow you up and down. Surely inspecting all the oil stains and mud sticking to your robes.

You quickly sat on the bed, right in front of him, still watching the startled expression contort his face. His lips looked pale, almost purplish. Face white as snow, creamy and soft, yet bore a small, solitary cut on his plush cheek. White hair fell loosely over his forehead, with a few strands clinging to the droplets of sweat beading on his temples.

And his eyes were still shockingly, almost amazingly fixed on your face.

The night was cold, but warmth started bubbling on the back of your neck as you pressed your hand to his forehead.

"You no longer have a fever. Are you feeling too hot? Those furs might be a little too warm, let me..." You muttered, avoiding his gaze. With a gentle pull, you removed a few furs from him, revealing a naked, bandaged chest. "Oh, I'm sorry. But your trousers stayed on, I swear."

A soft curse slipped from your tongue as you spoke what was on your mind before you had a chance to bite your tongue.

"That was inappropriate. I'm sorry."

Your voice sounded fragile, and when you finally looked up with those shy, doe eyes, Satoru remembered that he needed to say something.

"I don't mind."

Oh dear.

This time, both of you blushed with rosy shame, gazing at each other with fingers clutching your robes.

He coughed, diverting his gaze from your face. Perhaps if he didn't have to look at you, speaking would be simpler.

"I wanted to say, thank you, for the medicine. Even if it was meant for a horse," he grimaced, yet noticed with a corner of his eye your smile. "I don't know who brought me here, but I wish to thank him too."

You chuckled. "Him? I brought you here."

Satoru frowned as he watched you kneel on the floor. One bowl was left lying on the ground, while you lifted a small, entire table and rested it on the bed, with a large bowl of noodles right beneath his nose.

"You brought me here all the way from the forest?" he peered through the slightly open window, noticing that the room he was resting in was on the second floor. "And hauled me upstairs?"

You nodded, placing fresh chopsticks next to his bowl. A gentle flush coloured your cheeks as you nodded, avoiding his gaze. Your hands quickly adjusted the two large pillows behind his back to help him sit more comfortably.

"But how?"

You tucked a lock of hair behind your ear with a shy smile. "I'm quite strong," you said quietly, then quickly added, trying to distract him from the fact that you had hauled a grown man upstairs on your back. "I prepared it for you. You didn't eat anything for three days except the porridge. I've noticed you were slowly waking up, so I've made a fresh broth."

He looked down into the large bowl, filled with clear soup. Salty and aromatic, packed with meat that bent and curled almost wickedly, and so he felt a fat globe stuck in his throat.

It didn't look like something he was used to eating back in the capital.

Back there, the tables bowed under the weight of rare meats, exotic fruits, and spices reserved only for the highest nobles. He would be served rich dishes of glazed beef and rabbits, hunted from private grounds. Oranges plucked straight from the imperial garden and peaches, their sweetness dripping down his chin.

Here, he was served a bowl of noodles, with long, wrinkled pieces of meat.

A second later, he heard a loud slurping, almost obscene. When he looked around, he saw you sitting cross-legged at a smaller table, eating noodles with a hum. Crimson oil splattered across your cheeks each time you sucked a noodle in.

He looked at you with slightly parted lips, and when you noticed, another wave of humiliation washed over your spine. But your cheeks were already filled to the brim, like two fat dumplings, so you could only chew the noodles while meeting his gaze.

The chilli oil stained your lips red, and you wiped it away with your thumb. To which he responded with a frown once again.

Oh dearest.

"Do you not like it?" you asked, scrambling to your feet and sitting on the bed. "Do you need help? I didn't add many spices to it, your body is still too weak."

But he said nothing, simply gazed at the full bowl with a gentle, almost childlike frown wrinkling his forehead.

You looked down, a small oh rolling off your tongue.

"Do you not like… intestines?" You asked carefully, and he looked up at you, almost horrified.

"Intestines?"

"Pig intestines," you repeated, watching his eyes bulge again. "Oh, but I cleaned them very carefully! They've been soaking in salt and vinegar for two days; I've also rubbed them clean, so..." shut up, shut up, shut up. "... there's no faeces. Not any more."

Satoru was on the verge of fainting. But his stomach was growling with hunger, and the soup, aside from the obvious fact of what was swimming inside, smelled delicious, making his taste buds drool.

So he needed to eat it.

Because he was starving.

Or… maybe not truly.

Perhaps he needed to eat it because the sight of your ashamed, sorry face struck him like a hammer. Your eyes, fixed on fingers fiddling with the hem of your robes, as you refused to look at him. Again.

He couldn't see your eyes, but something deep inside his heart told him that if he did, crystal tears would be covering your lovely irises.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. The softness of your voice nearly crushed his soul. "The pig is cheap, and… I didn't have the money to buy you something better. I'm sorry I can't offer you anything else."

If Satoru could pierce himself with a sword, he would do so without hesitation. Never in all the years of his life would he have imagined that the sorrowful look on the strange woman's face would crumple his heart so miserably.

He refused women before. Noble birdies and princesses too, yet not even a single pout on their powdered faces could match the heartbreaking sulk of yours. With an oil stain still coating your cheek and something resembling flour dusted on your hands.

So he took a deep breath, grasped the chopsticks, and took a first bite. Then came the second, and the third, and before he knew it, the clear broth was splashing over his chest as long pieces of meat met with a low, satisfied hum.

You looked up, brushing your slightly wet eyes with a sleeve. "Do you like it?"

He loved it.

And so he looked up from the steaming bowl. His cheeks were creamy with a mix of noodles and meat, eyes shining bright like two lovely snowflakes. The small lamp bathed half his face in warm, gentle light as the rosiness returned to his body.

You slipped back onto the floor and sat by your small table.

For a few minutes, the room was filled with nothing but your hums and slurps. The chewing of fresh noodles that melted on your tongue and his eyes, fluttering whenever he glanced down at your stuffed face.

Something swelled beneath his chest every time you looked up. With doe eyes shining with pure bliss, a few more specks of chilli oil coated your skin. The tip of your nose, the corner of your lips, and your chin creased when his gaze lingered on you a little too long.

"Are you still hungry?" You mumbled with a full mouth. "I cooked a whole pot."

But Satoru shook his head. "I was wondering what your name is."

A small oh fell past your lips as you muttered your name next.

His lips curved into a gentle smile, and a hand stretched out towards you. You looked at it with a frown before placing your palm on his.

He laughed, yet didn't take his hand back. But simply pulled you onto your feet again and sat down on the bed.

Hand still opened, as he spoke softly. "Write the characters down."

With a bite on the inside of your cheek, you placed a finger on his skin. Slightly hard and still covered in cuts, you began painting the characters. With delicate precision, you remembered the order of strokes by heart.

The only words you've ever learnt.

He watched it carefully before repeating your name once more. It sounded different this time – more elegant, almost noble – and you wriggled in your seat as he murmured it repeatedly under his breath.

"What's yours?"

He smiled and this time took your hand, spreading it open. His long finger pressed against your skin before it started moving. Dancing across your palm, he painted neat, straight lines, of which you had no knowledge.

You've recognised the character five. Then, there was something else you'd seen standing before the character for noodle. Yet the last you simply couldn't recognise. It reminded you of something, but you couldn't recall what. When he finished, both of you looked up at the same time.

And not a second had passed before the warmth stung both of you. He was sitting close. But perhaps a little too close, and you could feel the heat radiating off his bare chest.

His breath on your cheeks, and another hand cupping your hand, as if wishing to simply hold it up in the air.

Your eyes quickly fell back to your palm, as you confessed, shyly. "I don't know the last character."

"Oh," slipped past his lips, as he wrote all three of them again. But this time, much slower, as if letting you remember each curve and stroke. "Go, Jo, Satoru. My name is Gojo Satoru. But you can call me just Satoru."

You looked at your palm, as if the characters were still etched into the roughness of your skin. Slightly stained with chilli oil, a bit too dry from spending too long outside.

"Gojo Satoru," you whispered. For your ears only, yet he heard it nevertheless. "Satoru."

Something within, deep beneath all the scars slashing his skin, the burning muscles, and the coldness he had kept inside for too long – suddenly swelled. A feeling he had never felt before, carrying a warmth that spilled across his chest. Wrapping snugly around his rigid heart, which suddenly began to flutter tenderly, almost shyly.

And the longer he looked at your face, with eyes still tracing the last marks of the name he left on your palm, the more uneasy he became.

Because he suddenly thought that eating pig intestines wouldn't be so bad if it meant seeing your smile until the end of his days.

𑁤 𑁤 𑁤

Days went by slowly. Satoru couldn't really leave the bedroom, so he relied solely on your kindness.

He spent the days sitting on the plush mattresses, silently gazing out the window, discreet enough not to let the neighbours realise that a man had been spending the night in your house. In your bedroom.

Considering you run the restaurant just downstairs, he had plenty of time to observe you from high up. And he used this opportunity, gazing down at you with a hand resting on his chin, a gentle smile creasing his eyes.

He watched you carry the sacks of flour, lifting both without a bead of sweat. Sometimes you went out with your donkey to pick fresh vegetables, only to return with a sack of pig's meat slung over your shoulder, the butchering knife clutched in the other hand.

Lovely and blushing from biting cold, yet with the usual frown wrinkling your forehead.

Whenever you caught him staring at you from the window, your face froze in terror. The sack was quickly dropping down the wooden cart, the knife hidden behind your back. A lovely, awkward smile tugged at your lips as you disappeared behind the house, where you probably cut all the meat into smaller pieces.

Only to bring him another bowl of noodles a few hours later. Fresh and delicious, rarely with intestines, you knew he wasn't particularly fond of them.

When the restaurant was full, he heard your loud, chief voice bickering with clients.

Sometimes, you would carry the overly drunk customers out, gripping their collars with your hands, threatening them with a knife until they left your possession.

And even then, he would gaze at your flaming, reddened cheeks with a tilted head and a quiet chuckle slipping from his throat.

And even then, you would look up and freeze in place, quickly tucking locks of hair behind your ears. An awkward smile twisted your lips before you ran back to the restaurant, trying to veil your embarrassment with a wide chopper.

You rarely ate breakfast and dinner together because you spent most of your time in restaurant.

But evenings… evenings were always reserved for you two.

And when Satoru recovered enough to stand with the help of a wooden crutch, you began eating at one table.

Sitting in the restaurant with the doors and windows closed tight, only a few candles illuminating the small space as you ate, laughed, and talked. Of all sorts and matters, like two friends, soulmates, drunk on their own company.

Because you wished to know about Satoru as much as he wished to know about you. And so he asked you about everything, from childhood and family to dreams, your current life, and the restaurant.

When you confessed that you were alone in this world after your parents were murdered by the bandits while returning from the village – his heart ached.

The restaurant, Bao and this house were all you had left. With no siblings or other relatives that could offer you some help.

"Oh, aside from my father's brother," you said, snacking on the osmanthus cake you bought in the town today. "He's trying to take over the house. And as I'm unmarried, there's a good chance he'll succeed."

The sorrowful look filled your eyes whenever you spoke of it: the village you truly loved and the house where you were born. Of Maki and Yuta, your closest friends who lived a short walk from here, and of everything this place had held for the past twenty-three years of your life.

"I can't marry into someone's family, and no man in his right mind would want to marry into mine," you joked, serving him a second helping of the soup. "I have nothing to offer. There's no dowry, and as soon as I speak, everyone flees."

You tried to laugh it off, but Satoru saw it. The sadness and humiliation that sometimes seeped into your eyes, as your voice caught in your throat for a few seconds. Usually, you would break eye contact and focus on your own bowl, picking up the remaining uneaten noodles.

"I guess everything would be easier if you just married me," another joke.

Slightly drunk after I've pleased yourself with a few cups of wine. Your eyes clearly not registering the words, lips curling cheekily as you propped your chin on your hand.

You joked, but something deep within his heart fluttered with warmth, and so a low "I can," fell past his lips.

He knew your weren't serious, but he… he was.

Satoru didn't know why, but the moment you told him you were unmarried – at first he thought he would have to fight a man named Bao, before realising it was just a donkey – a spark of happiness blossomed in his chest. No, rather an overwhelming joy, as the thought of you smiling that way at any other man but him would kill his slowly warming heart.

You were always truthful with him, like an open book, not hiding any part of your painful life.

And he… well.

He was a scholar from a royal academy who got lost during his travels. His feeble body fainted, and he ended up in a river that carried him ashore near your village. His father was also an imperial scholar, and so Satoru aspired to join the ministry in the future. As someone important, but not overly so.

After all, there were other people who wielded much crucial power.

"Oh, for example, Marquis?" you said, pouting softly. "The recent gossip says he died in the last battle. I wonder if it's true."

Satoru tensed at first upon hearing the title he had somehow forgotten after a month living under your roof, but a playful, gentle smile soon returned to his rosy cheeks.

"Hm," he tapped his finger onto the table, chin perched on a hand. "What do people say about him?"

Oh dearest, now he needed to get his ego stroked.

You looked up from a bowl. "About a Marquis?"

Satoru nodded.

The candle bathed half his face in warmth, the flickering flame making his two blue eyes stand out in the darkness. Night had fallen quietly, and only a few lanterns lit a short path through the tiny village.

Satoru wasn't used to the quiet and serenity of such things. However, after a month, he couldn't imagine falling asleep without the stars dancing above his house and snowflakes softly clinging to the windows.

The aroma of osmanthus filled the restaurant as you held the fresh cup of tea. "He's a monster, I've heard. Brutal and merciless."

Satoru frowned. You weren't quite wrong, but the gossipers might have exaggerated the whole situation a little.

He pulled the warm blanket more firmly over his shoulders and bit the inside of his rosy cheek.

"Do you…" He took a deep breath, glancing almost shyly at your oblivious face. "Do you also think that way?"

You probably did, because what reason would you have not to follow the information spread in the village? And given that you couldn't read or write, it was easy to feed you all sorts of facts. Not quite true, yet still close to reality.

And yet, you simply said, "I don't," and took a sip of your tea.

"Really?" his voice wavered.

"Hm, yes. He sure must be powerful, but if his heart wasn't in the right place, would he protect the people of the empire as he has for the past few years? I've never seen the Marquis, but… I just think, deep down, he must be a good person."

Satoru's breath hitched. He wouldn't call himself a good person. Not even a benevolent one.

But then, sitting in the darkness of your small restaurant, while the snowstorm danced outside the little wooden house, he felt the need to be someone deserving of your praise.

A man worthy of your smile.

"So…" you started chewing on the osmathus cake. You really loved those flowers, and so he made a quick note to buy you plenty when the next winter comes and– "When are you planning to leave?"

Oh.

Right.

His shoulders visibly slumped, and his eyes softened with a feeling unnoticeable to you.

"I don't know," Satoru murmured, playing with his empty teacup.

You did the same, as silence threaded between your fingers. Mere millimetres apart, yet not close enough to even touch.

You looked up for a second. Just to see if he was looking at you. But he wasn't, so your eyes dropped back to the teacup.

"I'm sure you have a lot of things to do," please say you don't, please say you don't.

"Mhm," he hummed.

"Your ribs should be healed before the Lunar New Year."

A smile tugged at his lips, but it wasn't quite the one you often saw as he peered down at you from the bedroom window. This one felt much less genuine, almost forced.

"Right."

"And I'm sure your family is worrying about you."

They weren't. Satoru knew that no one did.

You took a deep breath. "And your wife too?"

He suddenly looked up. "My wife?"

You nodded.

"I don't have a wife."

"Oh."

Silence fell once more in an awkward manner. The chill seeped through the flimsy windows, and the tea was long finished.

You cleared your throat and finally looked up to meet the tenderness in his gaze. Warm, gentle, and once again with this strange feeling that almost reminded you of a beaten pup. As if he were begging for something, yet he refused to say it aloud.

"But…" you started, immediately noticing the gleam of hope in his eyes. "But if you wish to stay a bit longer, and maybe spend the New Year with me…" The back of your neck burned. "I would be very glad. I know you're healing fast, so you don't have to–"

"I want to," Satoru quickly stated, his handsome, pale face burning red. "I want to stay with you. For the New Year, that is…"

A soft good, slipped past your lips, before your gaze fell back down to the teacup.

This time, the silence didn't feel uncomfortable at all.

Rather, it felt quite cosy, even intimate, as Satoru pushed his teacup closer to yours. Just a little, a few centimetres truly, but enough to extend his small finger and brush the softness of your palm.

It lasted just a second, and it might have been an imagination of yours, but he was warm. And gentle. And his cheeks were burning with rich flame, as he coughed and propped his chin back on the hand.

This time, turning it to the side, just to hide his face from your giggly smile.

But, oh, if it wasn't one of the happiest evenings of his life.

𑁤 𑁤 𑁤

The Lunar New Year fell at the end of the month. Satoru was able to walk quite well by then, and the wooden crutch was often left behind in your bedroom.

He still only left the house at night, yet you allowed him to sit in the kitchen during the day.

Although he could offer little to no help, as the life of luxury taught him that there was no need to bother himself with any other skills besides the martial arts.

And thus, during the day, he sat hidden in the kitchen and chopped the pork with slow precision. Washed the vegetables until the skin shone crystal-clear like the snow piling up outside, and simmered the soup with long, patient strokes.

Very, very slowly.

"Your patience is truly lacking, darling," he chuckled once, noticing the scowl between your eyebrows. "Patience is a virtue."

You scoffed at his unhurried, relaxed movements. "Good I wasn't rich enough to become a scholar, then," and with a smile, you grabbed two bowls of steaming noodles from his hands.

Since the quiet night spent at the restaurant, Satoru hasn't brought up the topic of his departure anymore.

And you didn't either, letting it sit heavily on your stomach, as you secretly wished for him to stay longer than until the end of the month.

Yet a foolish wish it was, as you knew, that Satoru would never belong to you.

To a pretty, noble lady? Sure.

To the imperial throne? Yes.

To knowledge and wit and riches? Of course.

Yet, never, in a thousand years, to an uneducated, simple woman like you, who spent her days kneading noodles and cutting meat.

Perhaps you should keep some distance from him, but a foolish desire of yours was to seize all the moments, the sweetness blossoming within your tender hearts, with your greedy fingers.

You allowed yourself to become intoxicated by his smile, his soft, gentle voice, and eyes that always seemed to watch over you.

To let his hand sometimes be bound with yours, and during the deep, deep nights when the snowstorms rapped on the windows, allow his fingers to gently push aside the locks of your tired, sleeping face. Cheek pressed to the table, as you accidentally fell asleep in the restaurant.

To feel his lips mere millimetres from yours. Warm, trembling, yet never pressing against yours.

His strong, muscular arms wrapping around your body as he carried you effortlessly back upstairs. Gently tucked into the bedroom beside his, covering you in heavy furs.

And when you thought he would leave you there and go back to his bedroom – he always stayed.

Kneeling by your bed, as his big, warm head caressed your hair with long, tender strokes. Brushing hair away from your lovely cheeks, as the faint glow of the candle lit the side of your sleeping face.

"The days I'm spending in your presence…" he whispered, pressing a warm thumb between your eyebrows. "… are the happiest moments of my life."

In times like these, your heart would race, trembling like the earth beneath the hooves of thousands of horses crossing the empire's lush plains. It was surprising that he didn't seem to hear it. Yet if he leaned just a bit closer, he would surely hear the shaky breath.

"Don't chase me away," his hand pressed to your cheek. Warm, soft, caressing your skin with a thumb. "Let me stay a bit longer."

So you did just that. Stayed calm, asleep, allowing him to rest his head on the mattress. His eyes remained fixed on your face, and you could almost feel the hole his gaze burned in your cheeks.

Yet finally, as his hand stroked your head gently, you fell asleep at last.

And when you woke up the next morning, he was still there. Sleeping half-folded, still kneeling on the floor, with his hand clasped around yours. Not too tight, yet enough to keep it warm.

You've noticed he was dressed only in night robes, so you pressed your hand to his cheek, feeling how cold it was.

"Satoru," you mumbled, brushing his flushed skin with a thumb. "Satoru, you can't sleep like that. You'll get sick again."

You didn't realise that Satoru didn't get sick easily. In fact, he could spend days on the battlefield, hiding deep in tall, cold bushes, covered only in mud. There were battles when he did exactly that, so resting in your warm room, with a gentle chill wrapping him freshly, was nothing compared with everything he was accustomed to.

Yet his eyes opened slowly, and his lips pouted sweetly, as if the chill truly seeped deep into his marrow. "Are you going to cook me some soup?"

You chuckled, brushing the messy, sleepy strands of hair from his forehead. "I don't know. Do you feel sick?"

He hummed, allowing himself to nuzzle into your hand. "Very. I may as well collapse any minute now."

The sun was already high in the sky, slipping into the bedroom almost shyly. It cast long, warm stripes across the wooden floors. It was still early, and the restaurant wouldn't open until lunchtime.

You let out a deep sigh, yet the corners of your eyes curled into a giggle. "Fine. Come down in ten minutes. I still have a bit of broth left from yesterday."

Satoru smiled as your figure gradually vanished behind the paper doors. Only when you closed them did he finally release a deep, trembling breath from his throat.

His head dropped back onto the mattress as he groaned in embarrassment.

What was he thinking, staying all night by your side?

How foolish, even disturbing, it was to watch you sleep until sunrise, when the golden rays of sunlight only began to seep through the thin windows?

His heart pounded and cheeks burned. Swollen, tired eyes stayed closed, and fingers curled into the plush bedding you'd slept beneath. Still warm from your body, carrying the sweetness of your sweat.

Oh dearest.

He groaned again, knowing that the warm sensation spreading across his chest wasn't so strange anymore.

Now, after spending almost two months in your presence, he could recognise it by a tremble of his heart alone.

And this alone was making him lose his mind.

A moment had passed when he heard your voice coming from downstairs.

So he dressed himself properly and neatly, wrapping himself in simple robes you pulled from your father's old closet, and slowly came downstairs to join you.

The crisp air was seeping through the open window, snowflakes landing softly on a wooden table. He took a quick look outside, watching the fairy-like landscape bathed in thick powder.

The empty roads, wooden houses blanketed in biting cold, and trees bare and sorrowful. Still, there was something enchanting about the paleness of this scene, with roofs covered in rolling piles of snow and icicles hanging beneath them.

The river was still frozen, and bare branches gleamed with a sheen, icy kisses bouncing off rays of warm sunshine. Not warm enough to melt the snow, yet the sunshine bathed the whole village in soft, golden touches.

The red lanterns and decorations that appeared a few days ago enhanced the festive spirit in the icy land. Satoru noticed the long red paper couplets stuck to the neighbours' doors, their characters seeming to bend and twist into unfamiliar sentences.

Satoru chuckled, trying to read the couplet on the neighbours' house across the road.

Something about luck, and fortune and health, but some strokes were not in the right places, and the lines seemed a bit too long.

Only then did he realise that your house didn't have the wishes. Not on the door nor on the wooden fence, and so he furrowed, already rolling his sleeves up to the elbows.

You were still in the kitchen when he hurried back upstairs. A few days ago, he was poking around the bedroom he had stayed in, clearly recalling a few pieces of red couplet paper and an ink stone that still looked quite fresh.

He checked the small bookshelf and all three rows of cardboard. The things he was searching for were hidden in the last one.

"Oh," your voice suddenly echoed into the bedroom as you saw Satoru sitting by the small table. "The soup is ready." Your gaze shifted to the red paper and an ink stone. "Do you want to…"

Satoru smiled, stretching his hand towards you. "I've noticed we don't have the New Year wishes on our doors. Allow me to write some, hm?"

You nodded shyly, placing your hand in his and letting him draw you closer. Until you sat beside him, watching as he ground the wet stick against the ink stone. Until it melted softly, letting the liquid darkness cover its surface.

"Your father could write?" Satoru asked, pressing the paper in half and wetting the tip of a brush in ink. "Everything seems to be quite new."

He noticed the shy shaking of your head. Your eyes dropped down to your hands, crumpling the old fabric of your robes.

"Not really," you mumbled, feeling another wave of embarrassment creep down your spine. "After they died, I wanted to learn how to write. It's just... I never really had the time. That's why everything is barely used."

The brush Satoru held suddenly hung over the paper.

He put it back on the little stone, keeping it above the table.

"Come here," his voice fell softly. A hand, warm and strong, pulled you by the arm. "Let's do it together."

He pushed the table, creating a space right in front of him for you. A clear uncertainty flickered in your eyes, but you let him draw you closer. Until you sat with your legs folded, your back pressed against his chest, a strong arm wrapping around yours.

His gentle breath tickled your ear, and white strands of hair brushed against your cheek.

It was the closest you'd ever been since the day you drew each other's names on your palms. But then you didn't feel his heart beating against your back. You didn't feel his body pressing against yours, his lips almost brushing your ear as he taught you the proper way to hold the brush.

"Just like that," his low whispers sent shivers down your spine. "The brush needs to be just above the paper."

It absorbed black ink with its soft bristles. The long couplet paper was spread across the table, and you wondered whether tiny droplets of obsidian liquid would fall onto its surface.

"Now, what do you wish for?"

You didn't allow yourself to desire too much. Perhaps something everyone else wished for too – money, health, simple happiness. Nothing overly greedy. Too risky, that would put too many foolish thoughts into your head.

Satoru's chest was pressed against your back in a distracting way, and despite all the thoughts urging you not to dream of anything out of reach, you still said:

"Love."

Satoru's breath shuddered by your ear.

Your head turned slowly, just slightly, as you peeked over your shoulder to make eye contact with his deep, ocean eyes that always remained fixed on your face.

"I wish to find love. Someone with whom I could grow old together."

He didn't move for a while, and you didn't either.

Just allowed your eyes to stare into his, as if wishing for all the kept feelings, all the restless nights spent thinking about him, to somehow roll clearly from a single gaze of yours.

His lips looked soft and plush, much better than when you first met him. And so, you wondered how they would feel pressed against yours.

Would he taste of jujube candy he snacked on every day?

Or maybe of osmanthus, strong and flavourful, as you both nibbled the soft cookies in the evenings?

But he didn't do anything – didn't say either. So you turned back to the paper, letting your whole body fill with warmth.

The brush hung over it before Satoru finally moved your hands.

Pressing the little tip to the its surface and painting the vertical rows of characters.

There was a heart, and there was two. Something about feeling and hundreds of years, yet you truly couldn't read the full sentences.

But he knew. And so his silky voice once again wrapped around your ears.

"Two hearts beat in one and delight in each other," he whispered, painting with your hand a first column of the phrase, before moving to another piece of paper. "A harmonious bond bringing joy for a hundred years."

Each character was written slowly, carefully, letting your eyes soak in the painting appearing right beneath your hands.

The meaning of the wishes carved deep within your heart, as you still heard Satoru's voice bouncing inside your mind.

Two hearts beat in one and delight in each other, a harmonious bond bringing joy for a hundred years.

It didn't sound like a simple wish.

Rather like a love ballad, written with a tenderness for the person most cherished.

"Is it a poem?" You asked, not daring to look over your shoulder.

But Satoru said nothing. He simply set the brush down and quickly stood up, moving the table closer to the window so the sun could spill its warm rays onto the drying ink.

He sat with his back to you for a few seconds, and you noticed the unnatural redness of his neck. Not even his white strands could fully mask the blush.

"I'm hungry," he said with a slightly muffled voice. "Can we go back down and eat breakfast?"

"Oh," fell quietly past your lips as you slowly stood up. "Yes, the broth… I bought a lamb yesterday. You like the tender meat so… well. Just join me downstairs when you're ready."

Satoru nodded, not turning his head even when you left the bedroom.

He was too busy thanking the Gods that you somehow, by a pure miracle, didn't notice a big, wet bulge coating his robes.

𑁤 𑁤 𑁤

Three days later, a day before the eve of the Lunar New Year came, and so it was time to set out on a short trip to Maki's and Yuta's house.

It was still early morning when you began packing. You spent most of your time preparing fresh noodles, meat, and vegetables for the New Year's hot pot.

It was nearly the end of the month, and so both you and Satoru knew that another conversation about his stay would come very soon.

You didn't want him to leave. As the days spent in his company were some of the happiest moments of your life.

And Satoru didn't bring up the topic either, merely letting the serenity and affection fill your peaceful days.

"Are you sure I can wear it?" he asked from the bedroom next to yours, and you could see the shadows of his figure through the paper walls.

His broad, muscular back was being dressed in your father's old festive clothes, as you dug them out from the depths of the chest. Too beautiful to simply toss aside, so you gave them to Satoru to prevent him from visiting your friends in his usual hemp clothes.

"Mhm, no one is using it, so take it."

He hummed under his breath, and a moment later left the bedroom.

You were applying simple makeup now, nothing elaborate, just a touch of blush and redness to look more festive.

His heavy footsteps echoed along the hallways, and your bedroom door slid open wide.

"I could've been naked, you know?" You chuckled.

He smiled, coming inside and showing himself in full view.

And he… he looked majestic. Beautiful. Dressed in long black and red robes, with a fur collar wrapped around his neck. The silk belt loosely encircled his thin waist, wide sleeves swooshed in the air, and white fur threaded through his pale skin.

Now, finally dressed in anything other than the hem robes of dark blue and earthy hues, he truly resembled a noble.

And you needed to remind yourself that he was a noble.

"You look handsome," was the only thing you managed to choke out.

His head tilted, and eyes shifted over your figure, hunched on the stool. Your thumb was reddened as you dabbed powder on your lips.

But you didn't look as breathtaking as he did – or so you thought. Dressed in much simpler robes of red and dark blue, woven with a touch of warm linen. The festive red made your lips stand out, and the pins decorating your hair were rather plain too. Nothing he was probably used to seeing.

And yet, he bit the inside of his cheek and kept his eyes restless on your body for much longer than they ought to.

He took a few steps forward and knelt right in front of you, just to cup a warm cheek with his hand. "You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

The blush you applied to your skin was red enough, yet now, blending with your natural warmth, it must have made you appear foolish.

Your lashes fluttered softly as you turned your head away. "I know you don't mean it. The noble ladies sure are much lovelier."

He chuckled and pinched your chin to draw you closer again. Deep, ocean eyes gazed at you with tender sweetness as he brushed your lower, red lip.

"And yet, none of them made me fall in love with pig intestines."

You laughed, ugly, pushing him away. "Rude!"

He chuckled, sitting down on your bed. His eyes still watched the way you applied makeup, with gentle fingertips smudging the crimson powder over your lips.

"I speak of truth only, darling."

You hummed, still not quite believing his charming words. "Mhm, go downstairs and check whether the cart is fully packed."

When you saw his furrow in the mirror's reflection, your head quickly turned to look back at him again. "What?"

He sighed. "I don't think Bao likes me."

"Of course he does. He likes everyone."

Satoru shook his head. "Not me. He actually bit me the last time I rubbed his head."

You smiled, and your cheeks formed into two plush dumplings. "No, he didn't."

But when Satoru rolled his sleeve up to show a nasty, purplish bruise on his forearm, you bit down on your lower lip.

His eyes narrowed. "You want to laugh."

Your head swiftly turned back to the mirror as you covered your lips with a nearby hand fan. "No, I don't. That looks quite bad indeed."

But your eyes creased into a smile, even slightly moist, as the thought of Bao biting Satoru out of pure jealousy for you genuinely made you burst into laughter.

"Go downstairs then and put it into the snow."

Satoru rolled his eyes and let the sleeve fall back down to his wrist. "A truly heartless woman you are, darling, to care for this mull more than for me."

You knew he was joking, and so you traced his handsome grin all the way back to the door, before he winked at you and disappeared behind the paper surface.

The sweet, heated days couldn't last too long.

And you knew it all too well, for the restless sensation weighed heavily on your heart. Something ominous was approaching. A plague, or a curse, that would tear through the peaceful moments spent in Satoru's company.

The uneasiness gripped your heart even then, as you added the final touches to your makeup.

It's here, a sudden thought wrapped around your mind. Whatever curse is coming, it's already here.

And, oh, how badly you wished for it not to be the truth.

But then you heard a woman's scream and a low man's voice rambling in such a familiar way. Low and slightly drunk. The voice of your uncle.

You stood up immediately, rushing downstairs and stumbling over the long robes. Your breath caught in your throat, chest aching with pain and a hope that Satoru wasn't the one who caused the sudden ruckus.

If they found him, a young, unmarried man in your house, where none of the elders could keep an eye on your two tender hearts – you didn't want to consider the consequences.

Certainly, the move would be unavoidable. As your reputation becomes tarnished by a nasty, humiliating patch, the wicked aunties of the village would surely cling to your name.

There were good people too, and yet the power of gossip in a small community like yours was truly disheartening.

So you ran downstairs and hurried, and when you didn't see Satoru or anyone in the kitchen or the restaurant's main inn, your heart leapt once again.

"And who are you, young man, to bother her at home?"

Oh dearest.

Within two steps, you pushed the door open and encountered a scenery you desperately wanted to avoid.

Your uncle and aunt were once again in your possession, holding a document of ownership in their hands. The one you had refused to sign for the past few months.

Satoru stood right in front of the house, packing the last items onto the wooden cart. His brows knitted tightly, eyes narrowed, and you've never seen such a fierce expression contort his face.

All the traces of gentle warmth were washed away; solely a wicked, cold severity pressed his lips into a tight line.

And what was worse – all the villagers were gradually gathering outside the low wooden fence, whispering and talking, staring between the three of you in utter shock.

Your uncle moved his gaze to you, pointing at Satoru with his finger. "Who is he?!"

The situation wasn't that bad, you thought.

Because Satoru was of noble descent, he looked much more impressive than all the other men in the village – handsome, broad, and radiating a dominant, daunting aura that did not blend into the community.

Satoru could simply state that he was a scholar asking for a way back home.

And then he could leave, healthy and fed, letting himself forget the past two months he had spent in your company.

In fact, he had an easy way out.

So you looked at him, wishing he would do it too.

But he didn't.

Instead, he watched the Bao's reins resting in his hands. Old and scratchy, because you couldn't afford to buy new ones.

He watched the hem of his dark robes and slightly worn shoes, embroidered with golden thread by your own hands.

His eyes fell on the snow. He took a deep breath of fresh, biting air that tickled him with icy pinches. But he didn't mind.

His belly was full and his mind, for the first time in a few years, calm.

And his heart, oh his heart, was heavy and warm, swelling as it pulled him towards a woman who was ready to risk her reputation and well-being to keep him safe.

The one who couldn't read or write and lacked the virtues the noble ladies possessed, yet spent nights sitting by the small table, with a single candle casting a gentle glow on her face, her trembling fingers trying to form curved characters.

Just three, always the same, and once, when you fell asleep again, with cheek dirtied with ink, Satoru recognised all three of them.

His name.

The first characters you thought of learning were his name.

"I'm asking you something! Who is this man?!"

Your uncle was fuming. Aunt looked between you and Satoru with narrowed eyes, while the other older women in the village had already begun their gossip.

You needed to end it.

"He's–"

"I'm her future husband." His voice was stern. Fully serious. "I came to ask for her hand."

Your lips fell open. Eyes wide and shining, as he looked at you over his shoulder. Just for a moment, before his gaze went back to your uncle.

"I came to place an offering for her parents. To marry into her family and ask for the blessing to take her hand."

Your finger clutched the hem of your clothes tighter. Teeth biting the inside of your cheek to stop the tears that wished to swell beneath your lids.

Satoru stepped closer to your uncle and aunt. He was tall – much taller than they were – and his wide, muscular shoulders loomed over them both, casting dark shadows across the soft snow.

His eyes, icy cold, slipped down to the document your uncle clenched in his fingers, and he pulled it with a quick move.

Your aunt gasped, but she didn't take a step forward. She just grabbed her husband's arm, gritting her teeth until you could hear her jaw cracking.

"I think it belongs to me now, doesn't it?" Satoru muttered, looking at the document. His eyes traced the characters, written in bends and curls, and brows furrowed. "Where's the magistrate's stamp?"

Your uncle looked up at him with clenched fists and gritted."I don't know what you're talking about."

Satoru smiled. Slyly, almost wickedly, with a grin that sent shivers down your spine.

"I'm sure you don't," he chuckled, then crumpled the document in his fist. "You wanted to use the fact that she can't read, huh? Force her to give you everything she owns and leave with nothing?"

The whispers of the villagers mixed with gasps and snickers, as both your aunt and uncle flushed in humiliation.

"How dare you!" The woman pointed a finger at him, yet still gripped her husband's arm tightly. "You're not married yet, so what right have you to it all? And so what if we don't have the magistrate's approval! Why should we live in a cramped house while she has all of this to herself?!"

"Hmm," Satoru's eyes narrowed as he leaned over both of them. The paper in his fist was now ripped to shreds, and he slipped it into the pocket of his robes. "We're to be married in three days. And as the joyous holidays have come, I'm sure the magistrate won't be working for quite some time."

Your aunt and uncle shuddered beneath his gaze. Wild yet still collected, as he finally straightened up.

"You–"

"If you wish to talk to her…" Satoru added, ignoring your uncle's fuming cheeks. "You're the first to speak to me. You do not contact her, nor do you bother to send another false document. We can speak before the magistrate or simply part ways here."

He didn't wait for their answer.

But turned on his heel and headed towards the house, where you still stood in the doorway – with trembling lips and fingers gently wiping away tears from your cheeks.

He pushed you inside, not saying a word, before closing the door shut.

His back hit the wooden surface, and head fell low between slumped shoulders. The thick, creamy redness once again crept up his neck and to his ears, yet he didn't have the courage to show you his face.

The small space of the restaurant was filled with your snotty breaths that rolled heavily past your lips.

You were never a crybaby. Yet the warmth that suddenly settled in your heart sent trembling kisses up to your fingertips. His words still echoed in your mind, loud and unbelievable, so you stepped closer and lifted your fingers to tug at his robes.

"Why did you say it?" you whispered. "Satoru, you could have just lied. Say you were a simple scholar who came to the restaurant."

His head was still hanging low.

"Satoru," you repeated, tugging at his robes. "Do you know what you have brought upon yourself?" When he ignored you again, you finally pinched his chin and lifted it. "Sato–"

His face – handsome and gentle – was plagued by the juiciest, loveliest embarrassment you've ever seen. His cheeks were like two cherries, plump and sweet, as he looked at you with a maddened, almost miserable frown.

Eyes glistening with fondness, lips drawn in a line, as he finally allowed his breath to escape through his tightened throat.

"What if I want to?" He said.

Your forehead furrowed, and fingers pinching his chin fell away. But not completely, as he quickly grasped your hand and pressed it back to his cheek. Nuzzling into the softness of your skin and relishing the gentle, flowery oil you had smoothed over yourself.

"What do you mean?" Your voice slipped more flinchy than you wished.

Satoru closed his eyes, and before you knew it, his lips landed on your palm. Placing a short, gentle kiss, sending shivers down your spine.

"What if I wanted to be your husband?" he asked again, this time a little more confident. His eyes opened, staring at your dazed, lovely face. "What if I hadn't lied?" he bit the inside of his cheek. "What if I truly understood the meaning of love after meeting you?"

You didn't say anything back. Just stared, allowing him to push out all the restless emotions that had been building deep within his heart for the past months.

"The thought of ever returning to my old life and forgetting the days spent in your presence feels like a nightmare," he trembled. His lips, eyes, and fingers clutched your hand tighter.

No one ever made him feel as vulnerable as you did.

"Satoru–"

"I don't do it out of pity," he quickly added, as if afraid your thoughts might slip that way. "I'm genuinely, madly, sincerely, darling, in lov–"

He didn't finish.

But he couldn't, as your lips suddenly pressed against his. In a messy, awkward, and sloppy kiss, you pulled him closer by the collar. His eyes stayed open for a while, watching your lids close tight, as you pressed yourself against him, sweat and stress beading on your forehead.

And when the first shock passed, he smiled. Parted his lips gently and let your tongue lie plush against his. Strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. One stayed just above your hips, the other slipping up to rest on the back of your neck.

The softness of your skin made his mind spin, and saliva, sticky and sweet, coated the surface of his tongue.

But he didn't mind, drinking your shy gasps and letting your lips work in harmony. Till you needed to push him away and take a deep breath.

With cheeks burning warmth and lips slightly swollen.

"I love you," he finished. "I love you, I love you, I love you so much," he peppered gentle kisses over your cheeks, nose, and chin. A soft giggle slipped past your throat, and you had to push him away. "I can't cook or sew, and I may spend too much time staring at you at night, but…" He took a deep breath, staring into your mellow eyes. His hands slipped up, both palms landing on your cheeks. "But if you'll give me a chance, I'll be the best husband you could dream of. And I'll love you, maybe a bit more than you would. And I'll build you a bathtub because I know how much you wanted it, and I'll do anything to befriend Bao. Just, please, let me marry you."

Your hands covered his, warming up the chill that somehow coated them with a sheen of kisses.

"I don't know how to read," your voice was soft as fingers squeezed his. "And I don't know how to write either. I've never kissed anyone before, and my temperament may not be the loveliest. I don't know how to be a good wife. And I'm not sure whether I can be one, but…" You pressed his hands against your cheeks. "If you'll build me this bathtub, I can learn how to be one."

Satoru chuckled. At first, softly and shyly, before he began to laugh with pure, sincere joy. His lips once again pressed to yours. Once, twice, three times as he kissed you and whispered tender thank you thank you thank you, while you giggled in his arms.

"Besides," he started, brushing your cheeks with his thumbs. "You've already proposed to me once."

Your eyes, wet, furrowed. "Me? When?"

"Hm, just a week after you saved me. In the kitchen, slightly drunken."

Your lips fell open, and he pushed your chin up to close them.

"Oh my god!" An embarrassed choke rose in your throat. "How could you take it seriously?"

But Satoru only chuckled. And kissed you again - softly, slowly, with a hum of fondness that filled his heart.

Because back then I was already slowly falling for you, and even such a small, silly confession made him believe that whatever fate held for him, it would be nowhere but in the warmth of your arms.

𑁤 𑁤 𑁤

"There's a man behind you," Maki whispered as you and Satoru knocked on her door. "A handsome one, at that."

Two hours later, you finally arrived at Maki's and Yuta's house, warm and slightly flushed, fingers entwined in a warm tangle.

You heard Yuta's laughter and the sweet, mellow bubbling of their child.

The spicy, rich fragrance was coming from within, quickly wetting your tongue with a ravishing hunger.

"He's–" You started.

But it seemed Satoru felt overly confident after your sheepish confessions from hours earlier, so he quickly added, "Her husband."

Maki's lips parted as she slipped her gaze back to you. "What?!"

"My future husband," you pointed, shooting Satoru a look over your shoulder. "We're not married."

"Yet," he added with a smile.

"Yet?" Maki asked, letting both of you come inside. "Yuta, we have guests!"

Her husband slipped from the main inn, with a baby warmly cradled in his arms. Dark eyes, slightly sleepy yet as always kind, quickly glanced at Satoru. Travelling up and up, oogling the tall man in a daze.

"Oh, hello," he said, bowing softly, before he quickly gazed at Maki.

She sighed. "Her husband."

Yuta gasped, looking back at your flushed face and grinning Satoru. "Husband?"

"No yet!" you groaned, as embarrassment crept up your neck. "Dearest, let's sit first, and then we can talk, hm?"

Yuta gave a little Iori to Maki, and together with Satoru, they went out to pick up the prepared food from the cart and hid Bao in their little stable.

Maki followed them both till the door shut behind their backs, and she could finally pinch your soft, red cheek. "You!"

"Ouch!"

"Is that why you didn't visit us for the past two months? Playing with a handsome scholar, huh?" She laughed as you stepped into the main room together. The main pot was already on the table, but the soup wasn't boiling. "I can't believe you didn't say anything!"

Still rubbing your cheek, you took Iori from her arms and followed her to the kitchen.

Their house was much more spacious than yours, simply because Yuta's business was doing much better. The bigger cities offered more clients, and although they said a couple of times that nothing would make him happier than hiring you as the main cook, you somehow couldn't leave your restaurant.

Your parents, childhood, the restless days spent helping your mother knead dough for noodles – everything was still shut there. Warm and alive, as if the memories of those days were still within reach of your fingertips.

"I'm sorry," you pouted, speaking to Iori rather than to Maki herself. "I met him on the evening I was heading home. If I hadn't saved him, he would have been dead by the morning."

Maki narrowed her eyes and pushed her glasses up as they slipped off her nose. "And instead of treating him and letting him go back, you decided to keep him to yourself?"

She wasn't wrong. You never ordered Satoru to go home. In fact, you never intended to do so, thinking he would naturally leave your house at some point.

But he didn't, and now you were meant to get married in three days.

"He could leave any time," you scoffed, softly pinching Iori's dumpling cheek.

Maki cut the vegetables for the hot pot, placing them in separate bowls. The Sichuan pepper tickled your nose with its spicy fragrance, warming your belly just a bit.

"But he didn't."

"No."

"And you didn't kick him off."

"I didn't."

Maki sighed, bringing the bowls back to the main room and setting up the table.

"So there's the wedding and then what. You want to have a family with him?"

Her dark eyes oogled your warm cheeks. The sheer thought of sleeping with him in the same bed sent thousands of sweet pinches down your spine, yet the idea of actually giving him a child… boiled something deep in your lower belly.

"I don't know," you whispered, looking at the tiny baby in your arms. "I always wanted to be a mother. But… if he doesn't want a family, then that's fine too."

The morning sun was slowly giving way to an afternoon glow, and as the winter days grew shorter and colder, the evening would fall in just a few hours. Your belly growled with hunger, and the warmth and spiciness of a soup slowly boiling in the pot made you salivate.

Maki was sceptical. You knew it, saw it in the way she looked at Satoru as he came back in with Yuta. Jars of wine and freshly made noodles gripped in their hands, they placed everything by a small table.

Now with four places.

Maki didn't say anything, but simply followed Satoru's figure, drawing closer to you. Clad in warm, elegant clothes, he placed a quick kiss on your forehead before looking at the baby in your arms.

"Oh, he's beautiful," he said, looking at Yuta and Maki. Iori curled his tiny fingers around Satoru's larger one, squeezing it with a giggle. "Hm, he has a good grip. I can teach him to use a sword if you'll let me. I've learned something back when I was younger."

Maki furrowed her brow, and before she could say anything, Yuta gasped. His dark eyes glimmered and lips fell open as he clasped, looking at his wife with a beaming smile.

"Oh, should we do it? Imagine Iori with a sword!"

But Maki sighed and shook her head, returning to the kitchen to prepare the rest of the food. She ordered Yuta and Satoru to prepare the fireworks for the evening's celebration, then kicked them out of the house.

Satoru chuckled, looking between you and a baby with a smile. Warm, making your cheeks burn with a feeling you wouldn't have described just a few months ago.

But now you knew it was this maddening, endless loyalty that beamed from his plush lips against yours as he stole a quick kiss. Short, but sweet enough to make your heart flutter.

Your fingers wrapped around a little Iori more tightly, as Satoru's warm eyes looked between you and a baby with a smile.

"We're next, darling," he chuckled, winking with his cheeky, mischievous smile, then followed Yuta back outside.

Four hours later – you were already drunk.

Drunk and warm, with lips swollen from spicy soup and mind dizzy, you rested against Satoru's shoulder. His cheeks were sweetly rosy, and eyes wet from laughter, yet he wasn't as drunk as you.

Yuta and Maki quickly warmed up, and it was the first time you saw Satoru around other people. Oh, how much you loved it – seeing how effortlessly he knew how to fit in just right.

His jokes were turning your belly upside down, and attention was split equally between you, Yuta and Maki. He knew what to say to make Yuta feel the bond between them growing. He managed to slip past Maki's iron walls, making her chuckle a few times and even ask whether he needed another portion of rice.

He was great with children, too, cradling Iori close to his chest as the boy tried to grasp the snowy strands of his hair.

He… his hand didn't leave your thigh for even a second after you finally sat down to celebrate. He fished out all the best pieces of meat and put them into your small bowl. Cooked vegetables for just the right amount of time, then blew his wine-sweetened breath to cool the food before he put it with his chopsticks straight into your mouth.

Maki and Yuta watched you two with clear amusement, yet you noticed the warmth bubbling in your friends' eyes.

The comfort and relief that there was finally someone ready to fall in love with you madly, recklessly, without fear or shame about their feelings.

Four hours later, your head was resting heavily on Satoru's shoulder. Drunk and in love, you wrapped yourself around his arm and sighed deeply.

"Darling, should we go back home?" He chuckled, pushing back a few locks of hair, brushing your cheeks.

Your head shook. "Mmm, it's too early."

Satoru chuckled. Fireworks burst high in the sky, bathing his handsome face. His eyes shimmered beneath the warm light from the lanterns as arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Sleepyhead," he whispered, pinching your swollen lower lip. "How about we go home and get ready for bed, hm?"

You were too lazy to go back. And too tired. And the night air was cold, unpleasant, biting at your skin, making it feel cooler than usual. Here, inside the house, the fire from the hot pot was warming you up, and sweet wine was twisting through your body, filling it with sizzling kisses.

"You can stay the night if you want," Maki said, looking at the very drunk Yuta. "We'll be going to bed too. But there's one bedroom we're not using. You can use it if you want."

The warm bed sounded good. Satoru nodded, quickly lifting you up. One of his arms under your knees, another behind your back, as you nuzzled into his warm chest.

He carried you effortlessly, walking up the stairs, before he entered one of the bedrooms. Maki brought you clothes to change into, along with a small bowl filled with warm water. A cloth to it, to let you clean your body just a bit.

And with a small yet crafty smile, she looked at you before shutting the door.

Leaving you alone.

Only when Satoru sat you down on the bed, the candle casting a warm light on the side of his face, did your mind register what was happening.

The room was small but cosy. The bed was big enough to fit you two, and snowflakes clung to the shut windows. A big bowl steamed with hot water, and Satoru wet the cloth slightly before he started cleaning your forehead. And cheeks, neck, lips, removing the light makeup.

His ocean eyes followed your face carefully as your gaze dropped to your hands, which were playing with the hem of the robes.

When the warm cloth slipped onto your neck, your breath hitched.

And he noticed it.

"I'm sorry," slipped in an almost inaudible whisper. "I… I'll leave so you can finish. Just call me if you need anything."

Perhaps it was the alcohol.

Or the courage that was bubbling inside your body for far too long.

But before he could fully stand up, your fingers wrapped around his wrist. With a firm grip, you loosened your hold the moment his eyes widened.

A silence stretched between your feverish bodies. The room was stuffy, maybe a bit too warm, and the lack of fresh air left beads of sweat on your temple.

Or maybe it wasn't the room alone, but rather the nerves that dripped in droplets down your spine.

"You can stay," your voice was weak. "If you want. You can help me."

Before he said a word, your trembling fingers slipped down to the belt wrapped around waist. Letting the material fall loosely onto the bed, the outer, heavy robes followed, revealing another layer of clothing, this time much, much thinner. White and slightly crumpled, banded with a warm, fur-like lining.

Satoru remained silent. But his fingers gripped the wet cloth a little tighter and jaw clenched as he watched your trembling hands unwrap the inner robe too.

"We don't have to do it," his voice was gentle, sweet, and eyes filled with worry.

But something else too. Something hungry, restrained, yet still brimming with fondness.

A shy smile tugged at your lips. "I know." Your fingers unfastened the thinner belt at your side. "But I want to."

His eyes remained on your face.

When you slipped your arms from the inner robe. When it fell loosely, pooling around your hips. When the softness of your skin shimmered beneath the candle's warm light and the snow still danced outside the windows.

The fireworks, bustling somewhere far beyond your small bubble, blushed your skin red. No cold slipped through the wooden sills, and no sound except your mingling breaths echoed off the walls.

And his eyes still didn't stray anywhere below the tremble of your chin.

Yet fingers wetted the cloth in hot water and went back to cleaning your skin. Starting from the collarbones, shoulders, and the softness of your chest, before gradually slipping to the swell that settled warm in his hands.

The cloth brushed the underside of your breasts. The softness that melted under his fingers and perked nipples, pushing a lovely gasp past your lips.

Your fingers curled into the bedding, crumpling it as Satoru slipped lower. Through the plushness of your belly and hips, rubbing the skin gently, wetting it with unhurried strokes. When he reached your tightened legs, ocean eyes looked up.

"We don't have to," he repeated.

You bit on the inside of your cheek. "Do you… not want to do it?"

He chuckled, putting the cloth away. Big, warm hands settled on your thighs, thumbs rolling soft circles across your skin.

"There's nothing else I wish for at this moment but to love you madly." His eyes glimmered with sincerity as one hand lifted to slowly remove the pins still adorning your hair. "But if you want to do it after the wedding… or any other time. In a month, a year," he took them out one by one, letting your hair fall loosely. "Or never. I'll be fine with it too."

His palm rested against your cheek, and you nuzzled into its warmth. "And what if I want to do it right now, before the wedding? Will you think ill of me?"

Satoru wanted to chuckle. But he didn't. Instead, he let his other hand slip from your thigh and grabbed your ankle. Lifting your foot, he pressed it against his crotch, still covered by two layers of robes. Even then, you could feel the wet bulge pressing against the thin sole of your foot.

"There's nothing you could do that would turn my heart against you."

Your neck burned with fire, and the warmth filling the small room added to the heat in your body. You didn't take the foot away, but instead pressed it a little harder, slowly parting your thighs.

Feeling the sticky wetness that stretched between them and pooled right under your hips. Feverish, almost burning your core with a need for his gentle touch. A pulsation that set your mind ablaze and tingled all ten fingertips with warmth that longed to break away.

"I don't know what to do," slipped in a whisper, as you kept your eyes on Satoru's face.

He didn't let his gaze fall. Not yet.

But when you moved your hips closer to the edge of the bed and leaned back on your elbows, dear heavens, he needed to pinch his own thigh just to not cum right there on the spot.

Your pussy glistened beneath a flame coming off the single candle. Drenched in sticky, fresh cum as you parted your thighs even wider. As if not understanding the deadly grip you held him in.

His big hands pressed beneath your thighs, pushing them against your chest. His eyes looked up, carefully tracing the shiver of your lower lip. Your eyes bulged with need, and you gave him a gentle nod, granting him full permission.

To do whatever he wanted, since it was the first time a man had touched you and needed you in such an intimate way.

And Satoru wished to show you exactly how much he loved you.

"You're so wet, darling," he muttered, drawing closer to your drenched pussy. "Do you have any idea what I'm about to do?"

Your head shook.

You truly had no idea. Because you didn't have many female friends and Maki rarely talked about her sex life. In fact, no one ever talked about it.

You knew there were books. Of all sorts, with graphics painted in thin lines, of men and women embracing something sweeter than a simple hug.

But such books were rarely available in villages as small as yours, and whatever was going on between husband and wife on the wedding night was whispered about in lowered, giggly voices and with flushed cheeks.

Thus, no. You didn't know what Satoru wanted to do.

That's why, when his wet tongue plastered to your pussy – muffled, almost gasping moan fell past your lips.

Your hands shot towards his head, trying to push him away. "Wait, that's–"

"You taste delicious, oh dearest," he mumbled, letting your fingers clench around his white locks. "Don't worry, darling. Just let yourself relax, you need to loosen up."

That being said, his mouth once again met with a smack from your folds. Tongue parting them gently, pressing wetly to the sensitive clit. He sucked on it with a mellow groan, letting his fingers squeeze your thighs a little harder. Not hard enough to leave purplish kisses, yet still wrapping them in a heated embrace.

Your head fell onto the bed, and your spine tried to arch off the mattress. Yet he held you folded, with your legs pressed against your chest and a strong grip keeping them in place.

The tip of his tongue swirled around the pulsing button. Before it slipped down, poking at the wetness dripping from your hole.

"S-Satoru," a soft, quiet moan slipped past your lips when he pushed the muscle inside.

Your walls, plush and warm, clutched around it immediately, as if trying to suck it in. His fingers kneaded the backs of your thighs, as if trying to reassure you that it's fine. That you only needed to relax and let his love spill into the most intimate, sweetest part of your body, as he kissed and licked and sucked on it tenderly, gently.

His tongue pulled out and again pressed fully to your slit. Before he gave your pussy a long, back-to-front lick. From the puckered hole up to the puffy clit. The hefty waves of juiced dripped right into his starving mouth, and he drank it with low whimpers.

His lips pulled away with a smack, a crystalline string of mixed saliva and cum connecting his mouth with your folds. "How do you feel, darling? Tell me, I want to hear you."

You nodded and clenched your fingers in his hair. Because that was the only thing you could do. Your mind was a mess, your back drenched in sweat, and your eyes fluttered whenever his tongue met the softness of your pussy.

There was as much as you could handle, and Satoru was already exceeding all your expectations for such intimacy.

"Say something," his voice turned almost pleading. Lips landed on your mound, kissing up to your inner thighs. "Please, say you're enjoying it."

Your breath hitched as he bit into your soft skin. "I d-do. Mhm, Satoru, it felt s-so good."

Looking down at his face, you bit your lower lip. Gluey cum was stuck to his face – nose, chin, and cheeks. He looked up, before his tongue slipped past his lips, giving your pussy a single, long lick. His gaze met yours.

Oh dearest, it was simply too much!

And when his finger slipped past your tight walls, you once again tried to push him away. Not because you didn't like it, but rather as something warm started coiling in your lower belly since his lips landed on your clit. And now, with his finger pushing and bending and massaging the tightening walls of your drenched cunt, the warmth turned into a feverish need for release.

"Satoru, s-something's going on," you moaned, trying not to break eye contact. "Wait, it's–"

"It's okay," he assured you. One hand kneading your thigh, the other pushing a second finger in. "It's okay, darling. Just trust me, yeah? You're doing well, baby. Keep it up. Don't tense your belly."

His lips went back to your clit, sucking wetly on the swollen button and flicking it with a tip of his tongue.

Your hips rolled against his lips. And when his two fingers pressed against something plush deep inside your pussy, your back peeled off the mattress.

"Oh, mhmm, S-Satoru!" you moaned as both fingers relentlessly bullied the spot. "That's to–nghh."

Too much. He worked you relentlessly, with the soft pads of his fingers pressing the sweet spot against the wall of your pussy and deep, ocean eyes observing the changing expressions on your lovely face.

Drinking it each furrow, each moan, the way your lips parted and closed, when he grazed your clit with his teeth, only to coo it with a soft lick.

Your thighs wanted to close around his head, but he pushed himself closer — until muscular arms shoved your legs, keeping them wide open.

"You're good," he whispered right against your pussy. "You're okay, baby. Just let it go. Don't hold back. Just let me have you all."

Hair stuck to your damp forehead, lips fell open as he sped up. Still gentle, yet devouring you with more hunger. Pads brushing the plump spot, his tongue flicking against the clit, till the warmth splashing in your pouch finally, suddenly, spilt.

Flaming pleasure washed over your spine, filling your body up to the toes, curling up in the air. Your body melted beneath his touch, until your thighs parted even wider, just to feel his muscular body pressing against yours.

His broad shoulders trembled between your legs, as you cummed and cummed, with soft moans spilling past your lips and pussy keeping around his fingers in a tight grip. His chin and cheeks and nose were drenched from gushing cum, which he tried to drink in fully. Slurping on the droplets with furrowed brows and slightly wet corners of his eyes till you needed to push him away with a foot.

It was too much, and your chest ached from the deep breaths you grasped for in the room's stuffy sweetness. Filled with the smell of your sweat, your breath, and your pussy, still fresh on Satoru's lips.

"Darling," he whispered, tracing wet kisses along your body. "My sweet, sweet darling. My beautiful, lovely wife."

Tongue lapped at the sweat beading on your belly. Lips pressed against your ribs until his nose brushed the swell of your breast, and mouth latched onto your nipple.

Hard and warm, as he sucked on it with eyes still glued to your face.

His robes were soaked through, so he began untying them at a slow, unhurried pace. The belt, the outer clothes, and then the inner, while his lips moved between your breasts.

"Satoru, oh," your fingers tugged on his hair to pull him closer.

The wetness started pooling between your thighs again.

"You looked so beautiful with a baby," he mumbled against your breasts, biting softly. "It made me think of how much I'd love to see you with ours."

A sudden gasp ripped from your throat as you felt something pressing against your pussy. Something hard and leaking, heavy in a way it pressed snug between your folds.

Satoru still kept your thighs apart, but now his lips found their way to yours. The kiss was the sweetest, gentlest, hungriest thing you've ever experienced.

The ends of his hair stuck to his wet forehead, and your arms wrapped around his neck, his to pull him even closer.

The heavy fatness between your legs began to move through your drenched folds. Wetting in the juices still gathering beneath your hips - in squelching, nasty sounds that made your breath tremble.

Satoru's lips pressed softly against yours, and he cherished each second of having you beneath him. Soft and warm, you wrapped yourself around him with a loving neediness.

"I want it," you whispered into a kiss. "I want your child. Please."

You weren't even married yet. But the fire that consumed you both left you utterly greedy. To have everything the future had prepared for you, right now, and so Satoru couldn't do anything but nod.

"You may feel a bit of pain," he warned you. "But I'll make you feel good, I promise."

One of his hands dropped down to his hot, leaking cock, nudging against your entrance. You looked down, just for a second, and a heat hit your mind, and the sight of his fatness.

Big and leaking, covered in the creaminess of your cum and with a ferociously red head that was pressed to your entrance.

"Oh," you could only say, looking at Satoru with bulging eyes. "It's not small."

"No, it's not," he chuckled, sensing your pleasure-drunk voice. "If you don't want to-"

"I do," your fingers tugged on his hair, gripping the neck tighter. "Please, make me feel good. I want it."

His ocean eyes stayed fixed on your face throughout. Following the expression curving your lips, eyes, and brows as he slowly pushed himself.

You were warm around his cock. Your pussy soaked it through, wrapping around the fat shaft and already sucking it in the same way it did with his fingers. You felt almost painfully tight, so he gripped your thighs more harshly so as not to sink himself in one push.

As for you… heavens.

Your back was already arching towards his chest, covered in slick sweat and pooled on the mattress. He filled you to the brim, and you could feel each vein, each pulsing of his cock against your tight walls, as he slowly thrusted in.

"You need to relax," he whispered, kissing both flushed cheeks. "My baby, take a deep breath." When you did, he smiled warmly. "Yeah, that's good. You're doing so well, darling. Just a bit more, yeah? Let me fill you."

A thought that you had already felt him filling your belly had crossed your mind. But then his curved tip brushed against the same sweet spot that made you see stars, and you cried out, clenching around his shaft.

"Satoru," fell quietly, as he was still pushing. "That's t-too much. Mhm, I fell so-"

"I know, baby, I know," he licked the single tear that threatened to roll down your cheek. "Just a bit more. I need to go deep to fill your belly. For a child, yeah? Take a deep breath, my sweet girl."

And then, without a warning, he thrusted his cock in a quick, one-move thrust. Till constricting balls slapped against your lifted ass and your thighs pressed closed to your chest. The leaking head hit something plush inside your pussy, and another moan crashed against Satoru's lips.

"Heavens," he groaned, trying to keep himself from coming on the spot. But it was much harder than he expected, considering he had just hit your cervix. "Baby, give me a minute. Fuck, wait-"

But you already started moaning. And wriggling, and pulsing around him, as a heavenly bliss was pinching your spine.

The heavy feeling of having him inside you was driving you mad, and your walls wrapped around his fat cock snugly.

"Satoru, move," you ordered sweetly, feeling the need to chase the pleasure that ripped through your body a few minutes ago. "You, mhm, please d-do something."

Your hand slipped down between your bodies to press softly against your belly. Soft as usual, but now stuffed with something warm and hard, so you squeezed it, rolling a low groan past Satoru's lips.

So he did - do something. His hips slowly pulled away before he pushed himself back into your pussy. Letting his shaft brush each spot, and the plushness of your drenched walls as he started fucking you a bit harsher than intended.

He wished to be soft, gentle, and kind, but you suddenly found yourself craving a bit of roughness and strength, and nothing gave you as much pleasure as his muscular body pressing against yours.

Your chests pressed against each other as he started pounding you with long, deep thrusts. Making sure to fill your weeping pussy all the way to the swelling cervix, as he drank all the moans falling sweetly past your lips.

"Tell me you feel good," his voice was gentle, demanding, as his hand also slipped down your body to settle between your puffy folds. Two fingers pressed to your clit, rolling it in slow circles. "Tell me, darling, that you love it."

"I-I," fell first, before a moan followed as his fingers pinched your clit. "I love you. Ahh, Satoru I love you I love you I love you."

He chuckled, yet a whimper followed when the sensitive head of his cock smooched your cervix.

"Fuck, darling," he took a deep breath as your walls wrapped around his shaft tightly. "You'll be the death of me."

His fingers rolled your clit, and fat cock filled you to the brim, till each thrust ended with your head falling to the sides and eyes rolling back. Your fingers pulled his milky hair, and lips were soon covered by his, when your moans became loud enough to wake up the whole village.

The fireworks still bloomed outside the window, muffling your puffs and moans, as if wishing to hide the intimate encounter between the two new lovers.

Satoru's pace quickened, and the familiar splashing in your lower belly once again tickled you with pleasure. Your fingers tugged at his hair, pulling him closer to your lips, body, the chest sticking wetly to his, as if you wanted to merge your bodies into one.

"I'm close," you breathed, nibbling on his lower lips. "Satoru, I'm–mhmm–g-give me a baby, p-please."

With one hand still between your folds, another lifted one of your legs and hooked it over his shoulder. He kept you folded almost painfully, yet the new position let his cock pound you deeper, sweeter, bruising meanly the swollen cervix that sucked him in.

Your walls clenched around his cock, trying to milk it dry.

"Cum for me, darling," he licked your lips before pressing a harsh kiss. "Come on, let me fill you up. I love you so fucking much. I'll give you everything, I promise." His thrusts grew messier as a tingling pinched his spine too. "Everything you ever wish for. The family, the house, the love. I'll fill you with it every single day if you'll ask me to."

Your single nod became a series of frantic, restless tilts as you drank in all his sweet words.

"My heart and my soul are all yours," he whispered, pressing his wet forehead to yours. "I'm yours till death tears us apart."

And then, with kisses peppered over your cheeks, you finally came.

Back arched off the mattress, thighs trembled in his embrace as the pleasure bubbling in your loins finally spilt. Satoru followed you soon after, filling your womb with waves of creamy cum. Pushing and pushing it deep into your belly as you writhed and moaned beneath him.

The dusk has wrapped around your slowly calming bodies, and Satoru carefully lay beside you. His fingers brushed away a few stray strands sticking to your cheeks, and your eyes drank in the blissful warmth creeping up your neck.

You lie in silence, thinking of the hunger and need you have given yourself, not patient enough to wait until the wedding.

You rolled yourself to the side, now also looking at his face. Wearing this lovely yet cheeky smile.

"Aren't you proud of yourself?" you asked, giggling as you let yourself be drawn closer by his strong arm.

He hummed, nuzzling into the softness of your breasts. "And what if I am? My ferocious wife couldn't even wait until the wedding night. What are we going to do when it comes?"

Your fingers threaded through the silkiness of his hair, his warm, naked body pressed close to yours. Muscles rippled beneath his skin, and arm felt almost heavy over your waist, but you liked this crushing, almost balmy feeling.

"You're going to build me a bathtub," he chuckled, hearing your cheeky tone. "And then we'll make love in it until we're sure our daughter is on her way."

He looked up. "Daughter?"

"Why? Would you prefer a son?"

Satoru didn't know. The only thing he was sure of was that he wished to give you the family you desperately wanted. It didn't matter whether it was a son or a daughter – as long as they had your smile.

His head shook and his eyes closed as he let himself drown in the soft caresses of your fingers.

Three days later, you were sitting in front of yourself, wearing crimson wedding robes.

With a long string tying your fingers in a promise of forever and a warm sensation weighing on your hearts.

The future was basking in the soft hues of the sun setting over the tall mountains circling the village, and in the brightness of your smile; Satoru exchanged all the pleasure of his past life for it.

He wasn't a Marquis any more. There was no army he needed to lead, and no riches he held in his grasp.

Now, he was your husband, and his only duty was to ensure you stayed happy till the end of your days.

Now, he wished for nothing but to spend the rest of his life basking in the warmth of your smile.

©liahcharms all rights reserved. Do not copy, plagiarise, feed AI, translate or modify my works.

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Oh, I'm already crying! I hope you liked the second part. @dearestdanidiarys, deep apologies you needed to wait that long...

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It started with random disagreements. Ones that you usually would've brushed off, but all of a sudden couldn’t. They were small, like what-show-should-we-watch-tonight small. They still ended with you going back home for the night. Each time, you brought back more of your belongings. Then it became a habit, and you started taking things home on normal days. 

Satoru never saw you sneaking your things out, but he watched as that corner in his closet grew smaller and smaller, until it had more hangers than clothes to hold—becoming nothing but a reminder of all the space you once took up. And yet instead of asking why, he did what he always did and just lived with it.

Which didn’t work out very well for him. Later that week, Satoru decided to punch some guy in the face for getting too close to you at a party. 

It wasn’t immediate, of course. He gave it an hour before he proceeded to antagonize the man until he had a better reason to punch him in the face, because being a jealous loser wasn’t one of them. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he was already in a mood, given how you turned down going to the event with him. It had already been days since you heard from him when he asked—of course you were going to say no. 

Never in your life had you been that embarrassed to be associated with anyone. Embarrassed and disappointed—mostly with yourself. It left you with some hope during a time you questioned whether or not to cut ties with him. It was hard not to, you had hardly seen or spoken to him the weeks leading up to it. He had you convinced he didn’t see a future with you, let alone want one. As problematic as it may sound, his sudden burst of jealousy revived the love you’ve unfortunately grown to have for him. It was inevitable. Satoru has always had the ability to captivate just about anyone he spoke to. One could only imagine how easy it is to fall for someone like him. And for someone as stubborn as you, it was just about impossible not to once he started showing you the sides he usually kept hidden from the world. 

So after a week of giving him the silent treatment, and receiving multiple flowers and an ‘accidental’ dick pic in return, you found yourself back in his arms, horny and slightly confused once again.

. . . 

There were certain things Satoru won’t talk about with anyone, not even with his best friend. 

One of those things was you. 

It was rare whenever he did. Suguru had quickly learned not to circle back to it in the future because Satoru would either play dumb or genuinely not know what the hell he was talking about, because he was drunk when he called and rambled about you for an entire hour at the time. 

Suguru can’t lie, though—he tries to pry as much information out of him as he can whenever he does get a drunken phone call. He’s nosey, okay? He’s come to accept that part of him a long time ago. 

It’s not like he fishes for anything bad. It was always so he could get a better idea of Satoru’s headspace when it came to you. 

At first he thought you were just a placeholder in his life until someone better came along. But then you all graduated, and Satoru continued to see you. Then he thought maybe he just felt like he didn’t have the time or energy to hold a serious relationship, and that you two clearly had some good bed chem going on—might as well keep it up. 

Then it clicked a year later, when he randomly dropped by his apartment on a Sunday morning, and finally got to see what you two were like together, since Satoru never bothered to mix you in with his friend group, and neither did you with him. 

Actually, no. He got to see what he was like with you. You barely spoke that morning, because you were violently hungover. 

Satoru was in perfect shape compared to you, which made it clear he decided to play the role of a caring boyfriend and picked you up from wherever you were, then brought you back home. You were surprisingly clean that morning—Suguru wouldn’t have been surprised if his best friend bathed you before putting you in a pair of his pajamas.

Then he saw multiple soup containers on his counters, along with multiple kinds of over the counter medicine that mighthave helped you and an entire case of some fancy hydration solution that he most likely asked his parents to send him the night before, since they were rich and had access to everything.

And Satoru has always tried to hide how much he cared, always tried to hide how much he wanted to help you. But the moment he heard you running to the bathroom, he rushed over and held your hair back as you puked out whatever soup he bought you. Suguru even heard him apologizing for it and promising he’d never buy that shit again, as if it were the restaurant's fault you got sick, not because you overdid it the night before. 

…You weren't a placeholder, and Satoru was fucking pathetic for not straight up declaring his feelings for you. 

He still is! 

It’s an entire year later and Suguru’s just as, if not more, confused. The last drunken rant he was forced to listen to was about how you were slowly packing up your things and planning on leaving him. You two weren’t even official, but now you’re leaving him? Not just breaking up with him, leaving him. 

And why do you have an entire section full of clothes in his closet? 

He’s always made an effort not to pry because he’ll eventually get it out of him, but the suspense was killing him this time around. 

“Sooo…” He tried to act casual about it, but Satoru immediately looked at him with a smidge of suspicion. “How’s everything been?” 

Satoru didn’t answer that question right away, as he struggled to hide how stupid he thought it was to ask, given how much they already talked. Suguru’s supposed to be the mysterious one here—it was fucking weird. “Good, I guess,” he shrugs. 

“Nice, nice…” his lips thin to a smile. “You been talking to anyone new lately?” 

Satoru huffs out a laugh. “Why would I do that?” 

“Oh, so you’re still seeing—“

“Yeah.” He says it like it’s obvious, which naturally annoys his friend because it’s fucking not. 

But Suguru continues to prod. “How’s she been?” 

“Good…” he answers cautiously, before doing a complete 180. “You didn’t hear anything about her, did you?” 

He sounded suspicious, maybe even a little worried. Suguru’s left to draw his own conclusions and is convinced that his friend still thinks you’re leaving him. “No,” he chirps out. “Just curious, that's all.”

“Yeah, she’s alright,” he says more confidently. “The usual, I guess.” 

You act like you can’t change that, the thought stays in Suguru’s head. It’s not like you’re any better. He’s gotten to know you just enough in the last year to know you’re just as hopeless as he is. You’re just as willing of a participant in the friendzone you two have continued to stay stuck in. 

“Well, if it works, it works.” Suguru gives a smile as he shrugs. 

“Mhm.” Satoru smiles back, though his look’s a little more pained… and forced. 

It works. 

…Enough. 

You shut down the last attempt he made to move forward with you, though—so it’s a little fucking hard to pretend like he’s happy with how “it’s” working. Probably harder than usual, since he ended up trying to fight some random guy at the party after being told you’d meet him there. It was small, probably didn’t mean that much either, but it was still something that would’ve kept him tethered to you since neither of you would’ve been able to leave without the other. 

He considers himself lucky you even decided to come over again after that day. You were pissed enough to leave your read receipts on so he knew you were ignoring him. 

It’s a surprise you came around as quickly as you did. Granted, there was some emotional disconnect in those last two months—one week of actual distance seemed to finally make your heart grow fonder. 

He just didn’t think it’d grow that fond.

Fuck.

It’s like you’ve been trying to get him pregnant these last three weeks.

There’s begging. There’s talking someone through it. Then there’s whatever you started whispering in his ear the other day that made him cum so hard he started seeing colors that he never knew existed. 

And he knows you two really should’ve had a more serious talk by now—probably multiple—but he figured this was a good enough excuse to put it off for a moment. It’s not even about the sex anymore—it’s about how close you’ve been. Half the time you’re pressed up against his chest, holding his jaw, making out with him, biting his lip, kissing his neck, whispering in his ear, asking questions like, did you miss being inside of me? 

Yes. 

Are you gonna cum again? 

Fuck yes.

Then you kiss him again, as if it were a reward. 

He had no idea how long it would last, and just decided to savor every last moment of it.

. . .

It’s been four days since you last saw Satoru, and he’s been pestering you to come over throughout the entirety of it. 

You really haven’t had the time to do anything for yourself, let alone drive to the other side of the city to see him. The company you work for is in shambles right now thanks to multiple people quitting all at once, and you regret not joining them. You’re tired, overworked, and honestly considering paying someone to knock you out so you can finally get a good night's sleep. 

Your phone rings as you step out of the elevator. Instead of fishing through your purse to answer it, you let out a small groan and keep walking. 

Satoru can wait. 

People usually look forward to arriving back home from work. That was not the case for you. It’s 8:13 PM, and the state of your apartment fills you with nothing but dread. It’s only been 4 days since you cleaned because you’ve barely even been here—it shouldn’t look this bad.

Your phone rings again, and you wish Satoru knew how shitty of a day you were having so he’d feel bad for calling. There’s an obvious struggle to find it as the shuffling in your bag continued, and just your luck, you missed another call. 

You didn’t even want to call anyone back right now, but you really didn’t want to hear it ring one more time either. So you force yourself to return the call, all while hoping he wouldn’t keep you on the phone for too long. 

“Hey.” He answers after one ring, and you’re already annoyed by the absence of stress in his tone.

“What?” you ask almost defeatedly. 

There’s a pause before he reluctantly responds, “You busy tonight?” 

You prepare to let out a sigh, but end up feeling bad for even considering it since he’s just trying to talk to you. Looking over your dirty kitchen while answering was not a good idea—your voice slightly cracks. “Nope.”

“You should come over then,” he's oblivious at first, taking a minute to realize how you responded. “I can order takeout and… are you alright?”

“…yeah,” you squeak out.

He pauses, then drops the friendly tone. “No, you’re not. What’s wrong?”

“I’m exhausted,” you sniffle, and then your voice begins to tremble. “I’ve been staying at work late because a bunch of people quit and my place is a fucking mess.” You snap a little at the end, staring at a giant pile of dishes. “Fuck! I forgot to go to the grocery store today, too.”

“Have you eaten?” 

“No.”

You hear a soft groan as he gets up from wherever he’s sitting, along with the light jingle of his keys. “I’ll bring you something.” 

“Really?” you ask, sounding so hopeful you could actually cry. 

“Yes, really.” He suppresses a laugh. “Don’t start cleaning, either. Just go sit down or something.” 

“Okay.” You weren’t gonna argue with that—you did not want to do those dishes. “Thank you.”

“Mhm. See you soon.”

Forty minutes later, you were in the middle of eating the dinner plate he picked up from a local Hawaiian place, drowning out the sound of dishes being washed while you watched the show you put on. 

You’re usually a better host than this, but you let yourself be a little selfish this time and didn’t try to stop him from cleaning anything else. You didn’t even look at him, honestly. He’s a man—he’s fine. Though you were a little surprised seeing how fast he got everything cleaned and picked up. 

There was a proud little look on his face once he plopped down on the couch beside you, and you tried not to laugh. 

“Feelin’ any better?” 

“Yeah,” you hum. “Thanks for dinner… and doing my chores.”

“You’re welcome,” he warmly says. 

“Do you want the rest of my food?” 

“No, it’s okay,” he murmurs, waving a hand. “I have some stuff I can eat at home.”

You give him a little glance. “You’re going home?” 

“Yeah.” His lips twitch, fighting back a smile. “Just came to drop off food and clean.” 

“How sweet.” You still don’t look like you believe him. “I have some of your clothes here if you want to spend the night.” 

“I can. I kinda figured you’d want your rest, though.”

You shrug. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. I’ll be sleeping in either way.”

He leans in a little closer until he’s face to face with you. “You sure?” 

You nod. “Mhm.”

“Alright.” He smiles, then closes the distance between you with a soft kiss, taking his time before pulling back to look over the space with a sly look on his face. He’s been here enough to be familiar enough with the place, but it’s usually you who comes to him. 

“What?” you finally ask, though you already have an idea of what’s going through his head.

“You know,” he murmurs, eyes trailing back to you. “I don’t think we’ve ever used this couch before.” 

“What are you talking about?” You fight back a smile. “We’re using it right now.” 

“You know what I’m talking about,” he grins, settling a hand on your hips, squeezing it as he kisses you again, deeper this time. “Don’t get smart with me.” 

“M’not,” you softly laugh. “I just don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

Right,” he hums. 

Riling him up isn’t usually this easy, but you figure your absence for the last four days had left him frustrated enough to strip you of all your clothes and have you on your back in what felt like less than a minute. 

He didn’t even give you a moment to process it—just slotted himself in between your thighs and started dragging his tongue through your folds to shut you up. He had your knees pinned to your chest, squirming under his grip as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. And just as you thought you’d reach the moment of sweet release—

“Fuck—what are you—no, no, no wait keep going!” 

Satoru pulls away, head still between your thighs as he gives you a puzzled look, blatantly ignoring the spot you needed him the most. “What are you talking about?” 

“I was gonna—“

“Cum?” he says it for you like it was some random guess. 

“Yes!” you whine out, frustration bubbling as the air begins to cool the mixture of spit and slick his tongue left behind. 

He hums, taking a moment to think about it since the distraught look on your face wasn’t enough. “Yeah… no. I don’t think you know what you’re talking about, baby.” 

“Are you serious right now?!”

He slaps your clit with one swift motion, earning himself a gasp that settles into a look of absolute disbelief on your face. “What?” he coos, circling his thumb over the spot he just struck, just barely giving you any relief. “Not so innocent now, huh?” 

“I was messing with you!”

“And now I’m messing with you,” he muses, satisfied with himself. “Acting like you haven’t been waiting for dick this entire time.” You don’t respond to that. He grins. “Yeah,” he pulls away entirely, taking his shirt off and throwing it in with the pile of clothes he stripped off you earlier. He begins to unbuckle his belt, “probably what you were thinking about the whole time after putting me to work.” 

The last to come off are his boxers, cock slapping hard against his torso before gesturing for you to get up with the curl of his finger. “C’mere, it’s my turn to put you to work now.” 

You were more than eager to do so while he sat back, gripping your hips firmly as you bounced up and down every last inch of his cock. “Yeahh, that’s it baby—show me how much you missed my cock.” 

It was clear how much you missed it with the way he didn’t even need to help you, practically treating him like some toy as you threw your hips back, all of his favorite sounds spilling from your lips each time he hit that sweet spot inside of you. 

“Can’t believe you tried to leave earlier,” you say through a soft moan. 

He huffs out a laugh, “I was tryna be nice, thought you were too tired.”

“God, no,” you hum in disagreement, and there’s nothing but amusement in his eyes as you complain. “I needed this so bad, work was so awful this week.”

“You poor thing.” He tries not to smile as he grinds you down against him, pulling another moan out of you. “Let me see it then.”

Even when he wasn’t the one taking charge, he was so fucking hot—marveling over your body and the thick creamy ring forming around his base through a pair of heavy lidded eyes, groans rumbling through his chest in between each praise. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ good at this—fuck, that’s it, keep going,” he rasps, fingers digging into your hips until he finally gives in to the urge to push you down, the sounds of skin on skin growing louder as he grew lost in it all. 

There was no helping it, your skin was too soft and your pussy squeezed around him just right. Even as your legs began to tremble, you took every inch like you were fucking grateful for it, and once again, without fail, he thought of how he’d never get tired of you. He’d gladly spend the rest of his life listening to all the sweet sounds you make. 

His hands snake up your back and pull you in, pressing you against his chest as he starts fucking you back. It’s nothing short of intoxicating once you start kissing him just how he likes. Slowly, yet desperately—starting at that sensitive spot just under his ear that practically brings him to his knees with how weak it makes him. 

“Fuuuck,” he shudders, unable to stop the drawn out groan that sends your stomach fluttering. 

You keep going, making him slowly lose his mind until he’s grabbing the back of your head and crashing his lips into yours, swallowing all the moans his heavy cock drags out of you.  

“Harder,” you pant against him. “Make me cum.” 

Without another word, he leans further back into the couch and plants his feet on the ground, then starts drilling into you. The rooms filled with the obscene sounds of him pounding into you before you’re even able to fully process it, and just barely steady yourself before your nails start digging into his chest from the way he works an orgasm out of you as if it were a debt that was owed to him. 

You start babbling something about it being too much, only for Satoru to crack his palm over your ass because he disagreed. And there was no convincing him otherwise—the moment he opened his mouth was the moment you realized he was gone. 

“So fuckin’ tight—fuuck,” he groans, pushing you down and making you meet every single one of his thrusts. “Just take it, baby. You’re almost there, just keep squeezing me like that. Yeahh, just like that.”

He doesn’t let up, driving himself right into that sweet little spot inside of you, making the pressure build up fast. “Oh my g-god,” you helplessly let out a sob. “I’m gonna—”

“Me too, baby,” he rasps, thrusts growing sloppier and sloppier. “Me fuckin’ too.” 

Then after one particularly rough thrust, you're in full blown tears from the orgasm that completely rips through you, with no chance of catching your breath because Satoru started chasing after his own sweet release shortly after, driving you way past the point of overstimulation. 

Your memory of the night grew hazy from that point, vision blurring as the week quickly caught up to you, holding on to nothing but the sound of his voice as he started pumping you full of his warm cum while chanting your name over and over again. 

...and thankfully missing the pathetic “I love you” that slipped out of him right at the very end.

The morning started slow. Satoru woke up for a moment around 9:00 am, saw that you were facing away from him, flipped you over so you’d lay on his chest, and threw your leg over him. You were in the same spot the next time he woke up, just with your face tucked into the crook of his neck—short, soft breaths grazing over his skin. He knew you’d be waking up soon and waited until you finally stirred to greet you with his palm rubbing over your back. 

There’s a small stretch of time between the few sighs you let out, just barely fighting to wake up. It wasn’t until you had your first sip of coffee with him in your kitchen that you finally did. 

The air between you was casual at first as you talked about nothing in particular. He was just easy to talk to, so conversations always flowed. It wasn’t until your phone buzzed against the counter when the air suddenly grew stagnant, and you quickly guessed why when you saw who texted you—your coworker. Male coworker. 

The text was friendly. All he did was wish you a good weekend after seeing how hard you worked that week—which you explained to Satoru, whose response was a thousand times worse than his initial reaction. 

“You’re trying to explain yourself like we’re in a relationship or something,” he huffs out a bitter laugh. “I’m not your fuckin’ boyfriend. I don’t care.”

Your expression falls flat, because it’s either that or show how hurt you were because he had you convinced he actually did. 

“What are you being so rude for?” you ask, genuinely.

He shrugs. “I’m not—it’s the truth.”

“I know that, but I never even said you were to begin with.” 

“Don’t need to when you’re already acting like it,” he says, and you just continue to look at him with a blank expression. 

If his goal was to make you feel fucking pathetic, he succeeded with how cold he said it, how dismissive he was being. There’s not one defensive bone in your body right now, and yet he’s treating you like there is. 

He’s barely even acknowledging you right now, casually scrolling through his phone as if his personality didn’t just do a complete 180.

“I’m done.” It wasn’t what you wanted, but it had to be done—which was why you didn’t hesitate to say it. “Get out.”

It was so sudden and casual that it threw him off. Still, he laughed. “Seriously?”

You let out a sigh, along with a subtle smile that makes Satoru think you’re not actually kicking him out, but then you start walking up to the door. 

And then you open it.

“I am.” You start gesturing toward the hallway, and it still didn’t click for him as he continued to stare at you. “You’re doing nothing but taking up space right now. Get up, grab your keys, and leave.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs, trying to hide his freshly bruised ego as he got up. Yet it showed with the lack of certainty in his usual stride—he was more than aware of his unwanted presence. 

You put on a brave face, despite feeling your stomach slowly sink. But it was better to settle in with the reality you chose now, rather than being struck by it later on.

He lets out a deep sigh as he steps out into the hall, then stops to look at you. “So that’s it? You’re just gonna cut me off because I said something that we both knew?” 

“Do you hear yourself right now?” You don’t know why you even asked—of course he does. He just never thinks he’s wrong. “This isn’t a relationship, remember? There is no commitment—I could cut you off for getting a bad haircut, and that’d be fine because I don’t owe you anything. You were being a fucking asshole. What did you think was gonna happen? That we talk it out and overcome it?”

At first his eyes grow distant. Then he barks out a laugh, impressed by how you managed to piss him the fuck off with that one. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t think you’d get triggered by something that dumb, either. But if you wanna be sensitive and cry every time you hear some shit that you don’t like, fine—have a nice fuckin’ life,” he starts walking away, knowing he’ll just say something rude if he stays any longer. “Good luck finding someone that’ll fuck you half as good as I do.”

Whoops.

“Thanks. I’ll send you a tape if I do.”

“Fucking try that and see what happens,” he suddenly snaps. 

And just as he’s about to walk back up to you to keep going, your door slams shut.

. . . 

Between your photo trail evidence of going out multiple times a week and Satoru training at the gym as if he were going up against god himself, it was safe for Suguru to assume that things ended between you two. 

Horribly, might he add, since Satoru doesn’t even want to find a rebound. He literally just drowns himself in work and then tortures himself at the gym after. Suguru tried talking to him about it in between sets. 

“Hey, has everything been alright?” 

“Everything’s been fuckin’ great.” 

Then he brought you up.  

“Never heard that name in my life.”

Satoru proceeded to add extra weight plates to the barbell right after, and Suguru didn’t ask any further for his friend's own safety. 

It’s been three weeks. 

He’s not saying he needs to get over it. Satoru can take however long he needs. It’s just time to start being honest about it, instead of making him pretend like everything he’s been doing has been normal. Feels like he’s being gaslit at this point. 

Lucky for him, the torture of not knowing what happened between you two didn’t last too long when he spotted you at the coffee shop just a few days later. Minding his own business was completely out of the question—he didn’t hesitate to approach you once he grabbed his order from the counter. 

“Oh, hey! How’ve you been?” 

It took you a second to process who had just approached you, but once you did, there was no missing the brief moment of disdain in your eyes from running into your ex-something’s best friend in public. Not that he gave a shit. Your problems were with Satoru, not him. Which was why he continued to give you that warm smile of his in your eyes 

“Hey,” you force out a smile. “Good! Yeah, I’ve been… great,” you say, and it doesn't sound very convincing.

It sparks some amusement in Suguru. “Mind if I join you?”

“Yeah, sure,” you gesture at the seat across from you, and he can’t help but think you are so much nicer than your ex-fuck buddy right now. 

He takes a seat, then rips the band-aid off like it was nothing. “How’ve you been holding up after everything?” 

Your smile falters, the thoughts of what Satoru could’ve possibly said about you running through your mind. “I’ve been alright. It’s not like we were anything serious, anyway.” 

“Right,” he pretends to agree, though his tone says otherwise, managing to crank your nerves up a notch. 

“Did he—” You hesitate for a second. “Can I ask what he said to you?” 

“Nothing,” he looks disappointed with the answer himself. “Granted, he never said much to begin with. But yeah, no, he hasn’t said anything.”

You nod, looking disappointed as well, just for different reasons. “Of course he hasn’t.”

He swishes his coffee inside the cup, trying to gauge what kind of mood you’re in. “Can I ask what happened?”

You were half-expecting the question—he’s always seemed like the gossipy type. The story itself isn’t that bad. You weren’t planning on talking shit about Satoru either, in the case that his friend does relay the message back to him, but it wasn’t considered talking shit if you were telling the truth. 

So you tell him, starting with how normal of a morning it was. 

You knew you weren’t wrong, but watching his reactions as the story progressed healed something in you. He was dumbfounded by the end of it. 

“I can’t believe he said that to you.”

“Yep.” 

“No, seriously. I don’t know why he’d say that to you.” 

You scoff. “Because he's an ass?” 

Shit. You weren’t supposed to say anything bad about him. With Suguru’s reaction, though, you doubt he’ll mention anything.

He shrugs. “I mean… yeah,” Satoru being a bit of an asshole was an obvious truth, but that was seemingly beside the point, “but he really cared about you.”

You stare at him blankly. “I thought he never said that much to begin with.”

“He’s weird with certain things.” He shrugs again, this time out of reluctance. He’d rather not share the drunk, pathetic rants for Satoru’s sake. “But if you think about it, he’s never complained about you or shared any of your business. Never got tired of you, either.” 

“What a positive outlook,” you murmur, leaning your head against the palm of your hand, glancing over the busy street. 

“Okay, fine—he may have shared how you were starting to bring your stuff back home, and he sounded pretty worried,” Suguru quickly admits, as if he weren’t dying to mention it.

You glance back at him. “He did?” 

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Now he spends his days exhausting himself. Trust me, he cares. A lot.”

You all but hum, then take a sip of your coffee.

“Do you care?” he asks. 

“Yeah.” You wince a little, having to admit it. “But not enough to give him the opportunity to say all that stuff to me again.”

“I get it.” He respects it, too. He doesn’t think you’re completely in the right, though. You had the same amount of time that Satoru did to fess up. “Honestly, I just think he needs a little push.” 

He has your full attention now. 

“Like what?” 

He smiles once more, and you quickly realize that he is not the wholesome man he pretends to be with the plan he proposed.

. . . 

The music continues to pound against Satoru’s chest, as it has for the last thirty minutes. Not once in all the time he’s been in this club has he not regretted accepting Suguru’s invitation to a boys' night out. Usually he’d be drunk right now, having the time of his life with some girl hanging on him, dragging him to the dance floor. 

That “some girl” being you. 

Instead, he’s sitting at the bar, tipsy and bored. Some girl came up to him, asking if he wanted to dance. He pretended not to hear her, making her storm off after her third attempt at trying to get his attention. Sure, it was rude, but he can’t find it in himself to sympathize with her right now. Or anyone else for that matter. 

Luckily, Mr. Designated Driver’s here, so he had someone to be boring with, and for once Kento doesn’t seem annoyed by his presence. Not that he’d care if he was. If he were in the mood to have fun at the moment, he would’ve rage-baited the blonde by now.

Kento even laughs for once, a rare sight. 

Satoru’s lips twitch into a smile as he looks up from his drink. “What are you laughing about?” 

“Take a look at who Suguru’s dancing with,” the man says, nodding towards the dance floor, feeling messier than usual despite sticking to a mocktail for the night. 

Satoru turns, and the moment his eyes find Suguru, he deadpans. “What the fuck?” 

It’s you. 

Suguru’s dancing with you, and you look like you’re enjoying yourself with the way he’s holding your hips and whispering in your fucking ear.

The genuine shock in his tone and the way he grips his drink nearly makes Kento burst out into laughter. The only thing keeping him from doing so was the fact that Satoru actually looked like he was ready to blow a fucking gasket. Though his attempt to keep to himself doesn’t do much, because Gojo starts yelling at him like it’s his fault.

“Are they fucking talking?!” 

Kento’s face suddenly scrunches up in annoyance. “How would I know?” 

“Maybe ‘cause you’re smiling like you do!” He suddenly accuses him, making the blonde hold his hands out in defense. “Has he been fucking her behind my back?!”

“I don’t know?!” Kento yells back at him, “I didn’t even know you two broke up!” 

“We didn’t—weren’t dating in the first place!”

“Then what’s the problem with them seeing each other?” the blonde counters. 

“Because it’s fucked up,” Satoru immediately responds, and while Kento can agree with that, he can’t help but share the same sentiment as Suguru—he had two years to make things official with you. “You know what? Fuck you.”

“Me?” Kento points at himself with a scoff. “What the fuck did I do?!”

“What didn’t you fucking do?” Satoru mutters bitterly before downing the rest of his drink in one go. It was the only thing he could come up with, knowing deep down he really didn’t do anything wrong. He was just pissed off and taking it out on him. 

Kento doesn’t even get the chance to respond to the comment—Satoru was already getting up from his seat the moment his glass hit the counter. His stomach slightly churns as the possibility of Satoru making a scene pops up in his head, but it eventually settles as he watches the man make his way to the bathroom instead. 

It takes everything in Satoru not to push past all the sweaty people in his way, reminding himself to calm down the entire time. He finally gets to the bathroom, realizes there’s surprisingly no one else in there, and takes the chance to lock the door. Then he plants his hands down on the side of the worn down sink and takes a good look at himself. 

He tells himself lots of things. 

Relax. 

It’s not that serious. 

You were just someone he fucked, it only went on for as long as it did because it was convenient—because it was easy. 

He tells himself it doesn’t matter if Suguru had you, because he had you first. They don’t call it sloppy seconds for no reason, and if Suguru wants to fucking settle for that, then he can be his guest. 

The bathroom door begins to pound, there’s someone yelling on the other side, but Satoru ignores it. 

God. Why the fuck are you dancing with Suguru? Have you been eyeing him the entire time you were together?

The door pounds again. 

He continues to spiral as he goes through almost all the stages of grief. He doesn’t get to the acceptance part though, partially because of the banging on the door that ends up annoying him. After taking one last deep breath, he straightens back up at full height, walks over to the door, and is met with some greasy drunkard when he opens it. 

“What the hell?! There are multiple stalls." The stranger immediately chastises him, and Satoru has absolutely no interest in defending himself at the moment. 

“I’m deaf,” he says in all seriousness, and there’s instant regret on the man’s face as he begins to apologize, but Satoru just walks past him and makes his way down the hall, returning to the sea of sweaty people. 

By the time the stranger realized he was lying, he was long gone—off to find you.

You thought it was a horrible idea at first, but Suguru was a persuasive man. You definitely needed a drink or two though to get comfy with him and the plan you two agreed on, which was to make Satoru jealous. 

It was petty, but there also wasn’t much to lose at this point. If he reacts, great. If he doesn’t, it’s not like anything changed. Either way, you weren’t going to be the first to break the silence between you. 

You were starting to think the plan was a complete failure, though. One moment you get a glimpse of Satoru sitting at the bar, then Suguru turns you around to fully face his direction, and he’s gone. 

As time went on, you forced yourself to let it go, telling yourself that he had left and all there was left to do was enjoy yourself. You’d never date Suguru, nor are you likely to sleep with him, but he sure was fun to dance with and talk to. So you let him hold your hips as you swayed to the music and allowed yourself to laugh at his jokes. You’ve moped around enough for a man that didn’t care, and decided to let go and enjoy yourself under all the flashing neon lights. 

The big hands at your hips begin to turn your around, there’s a smile on your face as you follow, only for it to be wiped away with complete and utter confusion when you realize the man you’d be dancing with was not Suguru, despite being the same exact height and wearing the same annoying man bun. 

“Hey,” he smiles, and the tone of his voice carries the same smoothness as Suguru’s does. “Been wondering when you’d notice me—names Zuko, by the way.” 

You wanted to scream. When did Suguru get switched out with him?! That fucking asshole. Why would he just leave you like this?

Then, as if it couldn’t get any worse, you see a familiar head of stark white hair from the corner of your eye, and he sounds so incredibly pathetic as he yells, “What the fuck is your problem?” but you also can’t help but find some comfort in it. At least he’s here to save you from this awkward moment, even if it was just to argue with you.

Zuko wasn’t such a bad guy, though. He tries to pull you aside once he notices an angry man headed straight towards you—not that it makes it any better that Suguru straight up abandoned you after coming up with the plan.

“Oh, fuck off,” Satoru swats the man’s hand away from you, and then he starts lying through his teeth. “We have a baby at home and she’s been gone for three fucking days.”

“Oh shit.” Zuko immediately backs off, but not without looking at you as if you were a deadbeat mother. “Sorry about that.”

And while he’s a stranger, it still hurts being misjudged like that. 

“No, we don’t?!”

“Megumi’s gonna hear about this one day and fucking hate you for it,” Satoru yells loud enough for those around you to hear. “You’re not even done breastfeeding yet and you’re going out and grinding on random men?” 

“Satoru!” you yelp out and attempt to cover his mouth because everyone around you seems to believe him, only for him to grab your wrist and begin to lead you out of the club, murmuring, “we’re leaving,” through a clenched jaw.  

Despite the unserious nature of his tactics to get you out of there, he was still fuming by the time you two stepped outside and proceeded to absolutely lose it.

“I can’t fucking believe you. I–“ He had to physically stop himself from what he was originally going to say by groaning and biting his knuckles. “My best friend and his fucking look-alike. What the fuck? What are you trying to say?!”

You didn’t even think of that, but Satoru would find himself questioning if that was your type, and you almost laughed at the fact. “Nothing!” 

“So that was just a coincidence?” He stops to look at you, but doesn’t get an immediate answer because it wasn’t a complete coincidence. “Jesus fucking Christ. You danced with my best friend right in front of me, then moved on to someone that looked just like him. Why would you do that?!” 

“I didn’t know I was dancing with the second guy, it was dark!”

“That doesn’t make it any better!” If anything, it pissed him off more that you thought you were with Suguru the entire time. “You kicked me out of your place because you were done with me. I didn’t bother you after that, and now you’re trying to make me jealous? What the fuck is your problem?!” 

“I kicked you out because you saw me texting a coworker and started being a dick and said all that shit about how you didn’t care. Do you even remember what you came over for that day?”

“I didn’t mean it like that—“

“And then reminded me we weren’t in a relationship—“

“Oh my god,” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why you listen to half the shit I say—I’ve been trying to be in one with you this entire fucking time!” 

His pathetic excuse for a confession is met with a scoff, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bruise his ego a little bit—especially with how you continued to look at him like he was a lying piece of shit. 

There’s a pause, and you eye him down as you cross your arms. “You’re just saying that.” 

“I’m not—“

“You literally are,” you continue to argue with him, growing more defensive as the seconds pass. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” 

“Fuck—I don’t know,” he says, throwing his arms out in defeat. “Life got busy. I didn’t want to fuck up whatever the hell we had.” 

You suppress a laugh. “What a charming way to say fuck buddies.” 

“We weren’t just fuck buddies though, and you know that,” he grumbles. If he weren’t so pissed off from having to watch you dance with not one, but two guys, he’d probably be blushing like some little school girl right now. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that, and I’ve felt like shit about it ever since.”

“You’re only saying that after seeing me with someone else,” you stubbornly respond. 

He almost corrects you, because he saw you with two people, not one–not to mention they were the complete opposite of him–but he doesn’t mention that. Not because he didn’t want to add more to the argument, but because the thought made him sick. If there were power in thoughts, they’d both be bald right now. He was going to shave Suguru’s fucking head. 

“How would you feel if you saw me grinding up against some girl after being told to fuck off?” he huffs out, running his fingers through his hair. “You told me you were done with me! So yeah, I’m saying that now after weeks of trying to move on—I’m sorry and I fucking love you. I never want to see you with another man again.” 

Your cheeks suddenly warmed, stunned by how easy it was for him to admit that. Unfortunately, what could’ve simmered down to a sweet moment, where you told him you loved him back, gets paused because he’s still distraught and starts rambling again. 

“Really? Suguru? I’m not fucking Rapunzel, I can’t grow my hair out like that!” 

“Satoru–”

He cuts you off and continues to spiral. “You said you liked the undercut! Who lies about something like that?”

“I didn’t lie–”

He barks out a laugh, even though he looks like he’s about to cry. “I know I’m not perfect, but at least I don’t have a support group dedicated to me.” 

That doesn’t surprise you one bit, but you quickly move on from that as you try to get a word in. “We did it to make you jealous!” 

He stops mid-sentence and looks at you as if you had just shot him. 

“I ran into him at the coffee shop and I was really sad because I thought you didn’t care about me and so he offered to help me out with that because he claimed that you did,” you quickly explained as he continued to just stare at you with a blank face. “And that he was probably my best bet since you were less likely to fight him.” 

“I’m gonna fucking murder him,” he says a little too calmly. 

“Please don’t,” you murmured, growing concerned that he actually might with the way his eyes dart back to the door. 

“I care,” he says, though he doesn’t really need to convince you anymore. “I care, a lot.”

“I know,” you smile, but it slowly fades as you hear familiar laughter off in the near distance. 

You both slowly turn your heads towards the direction it’s coming from, and Suguru turns the corner shortly after, with some girl in his arms. His shirt is slightly disheveled as if he were in a rush to button it up, hair messier than usual, and there's a big fat hickey on the side of his neck. 

Did he seriously disappear to go fuck someone? 

He stiffens the moment he sees you two. 

“Having fun?” Satoru spitefully asks. 

Suguru quickly looks back, then points at himself—acting completely clueless. The girl he’s with is still giggling. “Are those your friends?”

“I have no idea who those people are,” he chuckles like some old rich guy, the epitome of nonchalance. 

Satoru looks back at the girl, who’s clearly already wrapped around Suguru’s finger. “If he brought up anything about astrology, just know he doesn’t actually give a shit about it.”

“Just ignore them, Tiffany,” he says as he opens the door, quickly glaring back at you two. “They’re just drunk and looking for a reaction.” 

“It’s Stephanie.”

“That’s what I said, sweetheart.”

starting off your day walking through the rain on your way to work wasn’t on your list of things.

the train was late, and there wasn’t an easier way to get to work beside the train or just walking. so, your best option was to walk since your boyfriend was out doing job interviews and your best friend, katsuki bakugou, had an early patrol. 

you walked into your building in the heart of musutafu, completely drenched from head to toe. your whole outfit being wet is not quite the look that a quirk physicist should have. you wave at the receptionist of your building, kizuki, her face quickly filled with worry as she rushes out of her desk to see you. “oh my, y/n! you’re soaked! do you need a spare change of clothes? i’m sure we can find something somewhere!” she scrambles, her hands don’t know where to go so she just places them at her sides and you chuckle, “kizuki it’s okay! i have a spare change up in my office, you don’t have to worry.” you smile, nodding a goodbye while walking towards the elevator, your nice dress clothing clinging to you uncomfortably as any gust of wind from the ventilation system sends a shiver down your spine. 

“just promise me next time you’ll check the weather before you come into work!” kizuki shouts from her desk, the elevator door chimes open and you laugh. “i will! i promise you that!” 

the elevator ride up to your floor felt slow and painful, while walking to your office all your coworkers and employees looked at you like you walked out of a lake. when you reach your office; you shut the door quickly, and behind you a voice chuckles from the corner of the room by your floor to ceiling windows. 

“you look uncomfortable.” the voice says, you look over your shoulder and there katsuki is, crossed armed, leaning on a window, still in his hero uniform. you notice the way his eyes look you up and down. “what now, asshole.” you chirp back, walking to one of your dark wooden cabinets in your room where you keep dresses for special occasions that you don’t care to bring home and spare changes of clothes, of course. 

“listen, not my fault one of my best friends is the best quirk physicist in the whole damn country.” he chuckles deeply, he walks over to you slowly while you’re digging through your cabinet. “i got a problem.” you turn your head to glare at him, you pull out your change of clothes and head towards the door. “it can wait. let me change and fix myself up.” you sighed, heading out of your office quickly to change, leaving him there standing like an idiot. one of your employees stares at him through the open door and he glares back. “get back t’work. or i’ll tell ya boss you ain’t doin’ shit!” he snarls towards the person and they immediately get back to work in a hurry. 

fifteen minutes later you return to your office with a warm cup of tea and new clothes on. you open the door and shut it behind you. “what katsuki?” you groan, the blonde haired man turns to look at you, his crimson eyes look you up and down once more. “ya look good, less wet dog like and more.. good.” he blurts and you snap him a look. “i have a boyfriend, katsuki. what is it?” you repeat, going and sitting down in your desk chair, facing him who sits in the chair opposite to you. 

“damn deku broke a piece of his suit again, need ya to do your physics magic on it with the support crew.” he murmurs and your mouth hangs open. “seriosuly katsuki!? why couldn’t deku come in and ask?” you lean back in your chair and take a deep breath. “listen, i can’t do that right now. i’m already working on a study about how lemillion’s quirk allows him to go against the laws of physics.” you stand up and walk over to a massive white board that almost covers your whole wall, where multiple calculations using theories upon theories is written down. “wasn’t that shit already solved? he just; uses gravity ‘nd shit.” you turn to glare at katsuki, not even believing this conversation is happening. “no, because people gave up and you’re a smart man, katsuki! you’re acting like an idiot!” you run your hand down your face.

“listen, i have a lot on my plate at the moment. i have to finish this report to give into the commission office and then i’ve been taking care of my boyfriend recently, because he just lost his job and–.” katsuki clears his throat. “hah? thought you said his ass was working!?” katsuki snarls at the thought. “well–, i–, he did have a job! he got released last week, he didn’t do anything terrible!” you explained before letting out a sigh. “i just have a lot going on, katsuki. could you maybe try finding somewhere else to get it done? what about melissa shield? isn’t she back in japan for a bit with her father?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. katsuki grunts in reply while he stands up from his chair, he cracks his neck – the sound echoing throughout the room.

“yea, but nobody does it like you do. if she fucks it over im coming to you to complain.” katsuki announces, turning on his heel to walk out of your office. you chuckle softly. “yea, yea. have a good rest of your patrol, asshole.” he huffs, “have a good day, wet dog.” he retorts and you scramble after him to get him out of your office as he laughs and walks away. 

you’d known katsuki for five years. you two had gotten close after you were able to reply to his attitude, with more attitude, which he liked. but it also didn’t help that mina also loved you as well, the second you two met it was instant friendship. so it also worked out for katsuki because you and mina were close, so it gave him the chance to invite you to outings, allowing the both of you to grow closer.

the rest of your day flew by, well, sort of. 

your boyfriend was texting you non-stop about how none of his job interviews went well. each chime from your phone snapped you out of your thoughts while you were mid calculation, the irritation started to bubble up in you so badly; you had to go to the breakroom to watch the water in the kettle boil to calm yourself down. 

with one final step away from your white board, seeing the massive thing almost filled with calculations about lemillion’s quirk and how it works. you felt a sense of happiness, you step up onto your step ladder just to finish one thing up you missed in a calculation. your quiet was disrupted by a loud ringing coming from your phone, the sudden sound startled you and you accidentally took a step back while holding your dry erase marker out. you fall quickly to the floor, the marker going right through all the work you spend the last eight hours on. after cursing a loud “FUCK!” from your fall, you look up to see a line of black running through all your calculations, your drawings, your writing, everything. 

anger bubbles up inside you, tears begin to well up in your eyes as you stare at the black line that’s splitting your work into two. obviously, it wasn’t erased. but the small little details that it covered from your calculations were gone. 

you stand up quickly to see who called you, and it was; your boyfriend. you turn off your phone quickly before you call him back and threaten to break his phone when you get home, then you sit yourself down in your chair and sob softly into your hands.

what a day. 

the moment you step into your condo – that you pay for – your boyfriend comes running to see you. “oh y/n! look what i bought!” he runs up and shows you a new hand held gaming console. you quirk an eyebrow, a headache already rattling your skull. “did you use your savings?” you ask softly, trying not to explode on him. “no! i used your card! thought it would be a nice gift from you to me for trying so hard on all my job interviews.”

you almost slam him into a wall before you quickly push past him and basically sprint to your bedroom, he trails behind you asking multiple questions. you slam your bedroom door and lock it, leaving him standing there dumbfounded before he starts shouting and banging his fists against the door. 

you flop yourself down onto your bed and feel your phone buzz in your pocket, you reach back slowly behind you and check to see what it is.

dynadick: “kirishima, dunceface, tape-arms, pinky, and i are gettin drinks tn. pinky wants you there, she keeps begging me to bring you. be there at eight.”

you want to reply back, you want to say you can’t go, you want to say you don’t have the time. but your body is basically weighed down by all the shit your boyfriend is spewing through the door. throwing out insults like it’s free money. 

you find yourself crying softly against the pillows of your unmade bed, your face feels hot as you feel yourself bubbling over in too many emotions. until your boyfriend starts to kick at the door. now you have a problem. 

you waltz your way into the bar, the tylenol working magic on your head but you couldn’t say the same about how your throat was aching from a screaming match, and how your eyes were puffy from sobbing after you screamed at your now ex-boyfriend to pack his shit and leave. you spot the bright red hair of eijiro’s and you make your way over to the table slowly, tapping your under-eyes to try and make the puffiness go away. 

after a long couple of steps you finally stand at the head of the booth's table. “oh my gosh! y/n you’re– hey, are you okay?” mina asks, her voice lowering slowly as soon as her gaze meets your face. katsuki scoots himself over so you can sit down beside him and you take the spot. “yea, just– long night.” you sigh, mina reaches her hand over the table to grab your own. “if you need to talk, please, let me know. okay? any time during the night, preferably when denki’s drunk and screaming karaoke so we don’t have to listen.” denki gasps and smacks mina’s arm, she brings her hand back to swat him. katsuki leans down to your ear to whisper. “somethin’ happen? you good?” he brings his arm to wrap around your shoulder to pull you into his side, something that the others don’t comment on or else katsuki will kill them. 

“yea– i got home and my boyfriend already ruined my work today by calling me randomly, then i got home and found out he used my card to get himself a one thousand dollar hand held gaming console. then when i tried to give myself space so i wouldn’t toss him into a wall, he basically kicked my door down. we were screaming at each other and then.. i broke up with him.” you say quietly into his ear. the moment the word ‘broke up’ came out of your mouth, katsuki instantly perked upwards. 

“so, ya broke up with the shit face of a loser you were dating? finally?” he teases and shakes you a little. “finally? maybe i just pushed aside the thoughts and.. maybe because i thought he was all i needed.” you sigh, letting your shoulders droop down. “nope, but ‘m glad.” he smirks, looking down at you so his crimson eyes can stare into your own. “why?” you ask back. 

to that he doesn’t respond. 

the rest of the night was spent having some drinks, dancing with mina while you got the dj to play some of your favourite dance songs, and having denki and eijiro sing karaoke while sero recorded. but the whole time you felt as if katsuki couldn’t get his eyes off of you. anytime you’d turn around, he’d be looking at you with something more of longing then anything else. you turn back to mina and she looks at you, obviously noticing the look katsuki is giving you. “you know, he’s been asked out multiple times recently. he always says he has a girlfriend. i’m surprised the media hasn’t picked up on it, he’s probably threatened them or something.” mina states, looking down at her drink in her hands. “but he doesn’t?” you reply, giving her a confused look. “not yet. i think he was waiting for the right time.” she smiles before walking off, leaving you standing there like an idiot. a warmth presence slowly makes it’s way beside you, the smell of caramel fills your senses.

“so you’ve been saying you have a girlfriend?” you ask softly, not trying to look at the man beside you. “been waitin’ for the right time.” katsuki replies, his arm touches yours gently. “why?” you whisper, looking at denki and sero who's now making a fool of themselves on the microphone. “well, did your ex ever have the patience to wait for the right time? you both kind of just jumped into that relationship shit. he asked you out after what? the second date?”

“katsuki, my ex– he was a prick, okay? i can see that now. he’d say things like if we ever broke up he’d make sure that i’d be so unlovable that no one ever dared to come near me and just a whole bunch of stupid shit. yes, it was dumb of me to accept him, and yes i’m now hurt in the end but it’s whatever.” you blurt angrily, finally letting all the weight of what your ex did to you smash into you like a pile of bricks. you turn to look up at katsuki’s eyes, you expression immediately softens; the connection between the two of you is still in the moment. his lips part slightly as he looks down at you. 

“y’know, i still love you.” he expressed quietly, you gasp once the realization hits you, you look at him in shock for a moment. “i– i’m sorry you were waiting.” you choke out, katsuki smiles softly; showing off his k-nines. something that no one else would get besides you. “don’t worry. c’mon, i’ll drive ya home.” he offers and you nod. 

the drive to your home is quiet. there’s something building up. the number five hero just said he loved you for crying out loud! you look at his hand that’s placed on the center console, like he’s waiting for you to take it. but you just broke up with your now ex, that’s not fair is it? he treated you like shit, yea. but you still should let this all simmer. plus, did you even love katsuki?

you have a million thoughts running through your head you feel like you’re drowning. 

“breath.” katsuki exhales, turning his head to catch a glimpse of you for a moment before moving his eyes back on the road. you take a deep breath. “‘m sorry.” he grunts out as softly as he can. your eyes snap towards him. “what is there to apologize for?” you question, his car rolls to a stop out front of your condo building. “because i know what you’re thinkin’. we’ve been friends for a couple of years now, give me some credit. you feel bad because of what i confessed. so i’m sorry. didn’t mean to cause ya any harm.” he mumbles, looking almost ashamed of himself, something you’ve never seen on his face, ever. you look back down at your lap, opening your hands to look at your palms. “give me time to think. i just broke up with my ex and i can’t just jump into something so quickly katsuki. you know how i am.” you mutter, worried at hurting the man beside you even more than he’s already hurt himself. “i know, you’re a sweet idiot. always caring about people, even after they’ve treated ya shitty.” he replies with a soft chuckle. you look over and smile sadly at him. 

“goodnight katsuki. thanks for the drive home.” you get out of the car and swing your purse over your shoulder, you shut the door with your hip and walk in through the front door after scanning your card.

the whole weekend you spent in your office trying to forget about what happened. the whole building was empty, only the sounds of your dry erase marker and scribbles from writing things down brought noise to the emptiness. it took you nearly a day's worth of work, but you fixed up the calculations that you accidentally drew over. the black line now gone and replaced back with all the right calculations. you stand back and hum softly at the work. your eyes dance over each and every calculation that there is, you smile. 

you sit back down in your desk chair, you look down at the sheets of paper with messy handwriting scattered around your desk. you think you have it almost all solved out, now all you need to do is write a thesis on all of the calculations about how and why all of these work in favour of lemillion’s quirk. 

you spent all of your sunday sitting at your work desk on your computer, a tea placed beside you to keep you from falling asleep as you type out every different possibility with every calculation that you’ve proven. your phone has been shut off since saturday morning when your ex decided to spam text you a whole load of things from “i’m sorry’s” to “i hope you know you’re a fucking whore”. 

finally, late sunday evening, the thesis was done. you scroll through the pages and pages of calculations and writing one final time to make sure everything looks good. you breathe out, letting all the stress of this project leave your system. you email the thesis to the commissioners office for them to look at. you turn your head to look at your calendar to see the red circle marked ‘lemillion deadline’, which is marked a week away from now. but you also see something else in black sharpie written; ‘two year anniversary’. you can’t stop the frown that appears on your face, you pack up quickly and scribble that marking off your calendar before exiting your way out of your office to finally let yourself go home.

as you step out of the elevator a figure is waiting for you by the entrance of the building. “katsuki?” you blurted out, slicing through the silence. he takes a step forward, the light of the entrance illuminates his hero uniform. “your phone is off, tried textin’ ya. heard from pinky that you’ve been working ya ass off on your project all weekend.” he says, walking closer to you. the words from two days ago replay in your head; the amount of softness in his tone when he finally confessed. 

“y’know, i still love you..” 

maybe you’d been working to forget about your ex, but maybe you have also been working to forget about what he confessed, or maybe it was a bit of both. 

“yea, no distractions.” you state, clutching your bag that’s around your shoulder. “want a drive home?” he asks, nudging his head back so you look out the windows to spot his porsche waiting by the curb. “katsuki, it’s fine. you’re patrolling. i’ll take the train.” you assured, you pass him to exit out of the building, pushing your shoulder on the large glass door. 

“please don’t forget about what i said. i mean it, and i want ya to know it.” katsuki mumbles quietly, almost so quiet you can’t hear him. “yea, okay,” you choke out, quickly leaving the building before any tears can flow out of your eyes. 

the moment you get back to your condo, you flop on your bed and think deeply about everything. why did katsuki have to tell you now? why is he so soft all of a sudden? mina said he’d lie to people and say he had a girlfriend, was that girlfriend you? the rest of the night is spent with you thinking and running your thoughts through so many different possibilities. during your shower, your nightly routine, everything. you didn’t dare to turn on your phone again, you didn’t want to see the plethora of messages you’ve probably received.

your work gave you the week off for finishing your project so early. the commissioners office reached out to you stating how they absolutely loved it, and you were told at that time too that your thesis is getting you into the hero awards for the best quirk scientific breakthrough category. you ran around your condo squealing at the news, the first good news of your week. 

you had spent the rest of the week cleaning out your condo, getting rid of all the things your ex bought you, owned and didn’t take, or anything that reminded him of you. on friday night you turned back on your phone again while you stood in your living room. it finally felt like the condo was yours again, that you had finally gotten rid of your ex and could just be. 

the amount of buzzing and dinging from all the notifications on your phone from everything you missed took about thirty minutes to clear. a lot of the texts are congratulations from heroes you had worked with in the past, to your family and friends, and a very special text from lemillion himself after he read your thesis. he called you an amazing thinker and how he’s so proud that you could figure out the physics and science behind his quirk. 

but something stood out though, not from your ex who was desperately trying to get you back after the news came out about your nomination. but from the lack of texts from katsuki. only texting you on saturday morning checking in, then texting you once throughout the week to congratulate you on your nomination. 

usually, he’d text you with random things like calling you an idiot, or saying how you’re an asshole just because he felt like it. on instagram, he had gone quiet as well. usually his pr team would be posting things about his recent magazine covers and news from saves he’s done. but there was nothing. no new post since the thursday before he confessed his feelings. you sat there, looking at his account for a good five minutes before there was a knock on your door. 

the moment you open, you spot a very drunk katsuki who’s clinging to eijiro. “hey.. y/n.” eijiro says, almost ashamed. “he– he wouldn’t stop talking about you, almost tried to fight denki and sero the moment they suggested bringing him to his house. he demanded to come to your place. i’m sorry, i know you’ve been m.i.a for a bit.” you look at eijiro’s eyes that are filled with an apologetic look, then your turn to look at katsuki. his eyes are glossed over and he’s leaning on eijiro for support. 

you clear your throat. “yea, no worries. i got it.” you reassured. helping eijiro move katsuki into your condo to lay on your couch in the living room. “how many drinks did he have?” you ask, crossing your arms to look at the red-head. he shrugs, “i dunno. we lost count after his third whiskey. he’s been pushing himself a lot this week. we think that he just wanted to let himself go, which isn’t normally like him.” eijiro sighs, you walk him to your door. “thank you for bringing him here, hope none of you were hurt.” you both chuckle, you look back at the large blonde man who's laying on your couch. “please text me if he starts getting rowdy or anything, i’m always here.” eijiro starts, a soft smile is planted on his face. “also, congratulations on your nomination! you do some pretty amazing work.” eijiro expresses happily. 

you thank him and bid him a goodnight, he does the same before you shut the door quietly behind you. you turn around to see katsuki sitting up on his elbow, looking right at you. his crimson eyes soften the moment your gaze falls on him, you take a good look at him; his hair is messy, there’s bags under his eyes, he looks a little beat up from the week of patrolling.

“y/n..?” he slurs out, a goofy smile appearing on his face. “miiissed you.” he exclaims, trying to stand up, you rush over to help him lay back down. “katsuki, you’re very drunk right now. i need to get you some water. stay there, please.” you ask quietly, knowing he has a massive headache coming for him later. he pouts and shakes his head. “only… wan you.” he slurs, his hands reaching up to hold your biceps, his grip is soft. you shake your head and he huffs. “no, you need water to help you sober up.” you stand up, pulling yourself out of his touch while you walk to your kitchen to grab him a glass of water. you walk back to the living room to see him nearly passed out on your couch. you crouch down and cup his cheek, his eyes peer over at you. “come on, drink up katsuki.” you hold the water out and help him sit up. with a little bit of help, he drinks the water and gets it into his system. you then help him make his way to your bedroom so he can have a proper place to sleep, you lay him down and tuck him in under the covers. your brain is screaming at you about the insanity of the whole situation.

you run around grabbing a puke bucket; for in the morning when he wakes up, some meds and water, a spare change of clothes for the morning that he left at your place once. his eyes sleepily track your movements, the moment you’re done, you make your way to the door before his voice breaks the silence of the room. “sleep with me?” he mumbles softly, you turn to look at him. “i can’t katsuki.” you reply, leaning on the door frame, he shimmies himself up. “why not?” his voice is clearer now, he’s slowly sobering up as his voice isn’t as slurred. you sigh and look down. “i just can’t katsuki. okay, goodnight.” you turn your back once more to exit.

“why can’t you love me?” he chokes out, your head snaps around to see tears in his eyes. something that you’d never thought to see because ‘the great katsuki bakugou never cries’, so he’d say.  you look away from him and out the window of the bedroom. “it’s not that katsuki.” you whisper, choking softly on your own emotions. 

“then what is it? am i hard to love? do you not love me how i love you?” he begs, tears falling down his cheeks, his crimson eyes glossed over and the city lights the peak through your window shines against them. “you’re– you’re not hard to love katsuki.” you reassure while sniffling. you’re not sure why you can’t accept his love. you’ve been saying this past week that it’s because you just broke up with your ex and that’s not fair to him. but at the same time, deep in your heart; you’ve always chosen katsuki. and now it’s a matter of brain versus heart. “katsuki you have to go to sleep.” you choke on your tears, trying to shove away the conversation as much as you can.

you turn your body a final time to move away from your room, you halt as he speaks again in a low whisper. “i’ve loved you for so long and i always would tell myself that it wasn’t true. ‘m a bastard and a coward and i would have rather continued to tell myself that i couldn’t focus on love when i need to be number one. but you. the day i met you five years ago, y/n. the day you made a snarky remark about my attitude and threatened to make sure there was a loose screw in my gauntlet when your team was repairing it, because i joked how you were the final boss of a nerd. i knew that you were something special, and i couldn’t put a finger on it until recently. so please y/n, tell me you love me. please, i know you do. i see how you looked at me compared to your shitty ex. please tell me i’m not lying to myself.” he begs, his voice cracking and shattering with each word he speaks.

you close the door behind yourself, walking to your guest bedroom as you sob softly into your hands. you came to the realization that you do love katsuki bakugou, and you’re not sure for how long. but you need to overcome your thoughts first before ever saying it because the guilt of loving another man while you were in a relationship is eating away at you slowly. and your brain keeps telling you it’s all wrong while your heart wants to leap at the opportunity. 

the next morning you find your bed empty, the pill is gone and the glass that held the water was placed by your kitchen sink. you found yourself crying in your kitchen. all drunk words are sober thoughts, and you knew that katsuki knew that too, and you also knew he could probably sense that he said too much – even if he can’t remember it.

you don’t hear from him for a while after that. 

the hero awards are coming in a month's time. your dress has been ordered after going out with mina to go shopping for it, you’ve been working non stop on new hero equipment and helping figure out calculations for new support gear for the pro hero, deku. you can’t help but feel a pit in your stomach when you walk through your hallway towards your bedroom, seeing all the photos of your friends hung up on the walls. you stand and stare, especially at the ones of you and katsuki. there’s a photo where you two were out with eijiro, mina, denki and sero, and mina had captured a photo of you swung around playfully by katsuki after you teased him about something you can’t remember.

you try and not let yourself sink too deep into the pit you have sitting in your stomach. each thought of katsuki would either make you want to cry or reach out, but you could never bring yourself to do the reaching out part. so you mostly cried. though, you didn’t know that across the city it was the same thing with katsuki.

“just breath man, you’ll see her at the hero awards. try talking to her there.” eijiro’s voice penetrates through the kitchen of katsuki’s, he’s nursing a beer while katsuki cooks at the stove. “i can’t just do that, shitty hair. what if i fuckin’ ruin her night. i have no clue in the world what i told her that night. can’t even remember a thing.” katsuki grumbles, putting the lid on the pan for the pot stickers to steam. he leans himself down onto the counter, eijiro’s eyes track his movements. katsuki stands up to reach a glass to pour some whiskey in. 

“but i– fuck, i love her, man. and i just don’t know what to do or how to deal with this. you know i ain’t one for this type of shit. what if she doesn’t love me back?” katsuki expressed, taking a sip of the dark liquid that’s now filled his glass. eijiro clears his throat. “well, mina told me something recently that suggests otherwise.” katsuki’s head snaps to look at the red head, his eyes wide. “what d’ya know.” he questions, moving himself over to stare eijiro dead in the eye. the man smiles, showing off his sharp teeth. “i think you should wait before you find out the answer.” 

the night of the hero awards approaches soon enough, you make your way down the red carpet in a beautiful deep maroon dress with black lace accent that frames your body, you smile softly for the cameras – trying to get past this part as quickly as you can to find mina. you quickly exit the red carpet, nodding at the security guards by the massive doors of the theatre. you make your way in and you’re astonished by how beautiful it is.

the room is dark, soft lights illuminating the place. a massive crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, the light bounces off each one of the crystals. you spot mina across the room, sitting in her designated spot around the heroes as you spot someone else sitting beside her. katsuki bakugou. his eyes widen the moment he sees you. he looks to be dressed in a fitted black tux, with a deep maroon tie, the same colour as your dress. you quickly advert your gaze, moving around the people to find your spot near where the scientists are seated. you sit down at a table besides some well known chemists, biologists, and physicists. you make some quick talk with them as you’ve worked with a few in the past. 

the speech you have written in your head feels like it’s weighing you down the moment the president of the hero public safety commission, ex-hero hawks, walks out onto the stage to start the award ceremony, your heart drops.

you shouldn’t be here? was your thesis on lemillion’s quirk that good? well, it was a break out report that has been trying to be solved ever since he stepped out into being a full blown pro, but was it really all that good?

your eyes land on mina who’s across the room, she looks at you and mouths, “deep breaths. you got this.” you smile softly at her, doing as she said and taking deep breaths. first it was the heroes to get their awards, you watched katsuki walk up to grab his award for quickest responder. he muttered a quick thanks into the microphone before moving off the stage and back to his seat, his eyes land on yours quickly before he averted his gaze.

the moment the words ‘the award for the best quirk scientific breakthrough’ come out of hawk’s mouth, you’re almost sure you’re going to puke. you look up at the screen to see your face there – as a camera is capturing you from the side –  along with other known scientists that have put out some amazing thesis’, many who have gotten multiple of these awards.

you feel your breathing slow, as the world feels like it’s twisting on its axis. everything that has happened in these past months, now finally leading up to this moment. the biggest moment of your career, the moment you’ve dreamed about since you were young, is finally here.

“the award is going to someone who may be young, but knows what they’re talking about. someone who puts in work and weekends to make sure we as a country, and a civilization understand the effects and physics of quirks. i’m proud to announce the winner of tonight's award is,” hawks announces, opening the piece of paper that he’s holding. “physicist and researcher, y/n l/n!” 

your mouth drops right open and the room begins to echo loudly with applauses and cheers. your whole table is cheering for you as you hear mina’s voice scream your name from across the room. you give some quick hugs before you begin to make your way up to the stage, your mind already clouded with your speech ready. people smile largely at you when you walk past them, your mind can only think of everything you’ve done to get here.

you walk up the stairs and walk across the stage, the cheering now calmed down. you shake hands with hawks and you take your award, he gestures to you to go to the microphone. so you do. 

your hands shake as you hold your award. “wow,” you breath out. “i can’t believe this. i just want to start out with a big thanks to my family, friends, and all of you here tonight. i know that each and every one of you has done something incredible to be here, and i see and admire that.” 

the room loudly erupts in applause again, you laugh into the microphone but your eyes move to look over at katsuki. you find him immediately, a soft smirk is spread on his face while he claps his hands. “thank you all. when i was younger, i always had a hard time picking between my heart and my brain. my heart would say one thing and my brain would say the other, that’s why i chose physics. because there is so much logic behind it all, there is nowhere in physics where i feel the need to second guess, or have my heart and brain tell me something is different. because in reality, it’s not. but recently while i was working on my thesis about lemillion’s quirk, it really made me think because these powers we have; defines all of what physics says. so i’ve had to start learning to use my heart and brain again, and does that ever cause quite a wreck.” everyone laughs and you chuckle. 

“but something i’ve learnt recently; is to use my heart and my brain together. instead of having them work against each other to try and find the right solution by tearing everything down, i have them work together, and that’s not been an easy task. but over the last few months; i’ve really started to understand how to make it work and i’ve finally figured out how to bring two and two together to make something that feels right – that works with physics, of course. thank you all so much, have a wonderful night.” 

your eyes find katsuki’s again, and he looks shocked. his eyes look a little watery as you exit off the stage and take your seat. you let the rest of the ceremony go on, cheering for people who got their awards, listening attentively to their speeches. until the ceremony is over and everyone makes their way into a ballroom, where soft music is playing and everyone is able to come together finally to talk. 

mina runs over to you the second you get into the ballroom. “y/n! y/n! you got the award! your speech was beautiful! It brought tears to my eyes!” mina exclaims, wrapping her arms around you to bring you into a tight hug. “oh mina, don’t even. i tried to make sense of my feelings by using physics.” you explain and she giggles. “that’s my best friend, i knew you’d do that!”  

coming slowly behind her is eijiro, katsuki, denki, and sero. eijiro wraps you in a big hug. “look at you, smartie pants. knew you could do it.” he whispers into your ear and you smile. denki and sero clash at both your sides and congratulate you, with denki taking your award to look at it.

you stand to the side as mina, sero, and eijiro also go to check it out, but you feel that same warm presence that comes to your side like how it did that same night a short few months ago. “congratulations, shit face. that was a great speech.” katsuki says teasingly, nudging your side with his shoulder. “could say the same about yours. that ‘thanks’ felt so thought through, almost brought tears to my eyes.” you joke, giggling as he groans. “still a pain in my ass?” you look up at him and smile. “always.”

“hey y/n, here's your trophy back!” denki exclaims, tossing you your trophy and you catch it before it hits the ground. you watch denki drag everyone but you and katsuki to go and get drinks, you somehow think it’s deliberate. 

“wanna go outside?” you hear katsuki ask, you look at him and he nudges to the doors that lead to the front of the building. “will they let us come back in?” you question softly, watching mina wave at you from the bar. “nah, but does that matter?” katsuki quirks an eyebrow, and you shake your head. “alright then, c’mon.” you follow behind katsuki, he holds the large front doors open for you and you step out. you both nod towards the security guards as a thank you. 

“where’s your award?” you ask as you both begin to walk down the empty streets – looking a little bit overdressed for walking around this late. “had someone from my team take it, shit’s a pain to carry.” you raise yours up in agreement. “yea, i can see.” he chuckles and you sigh softly. 

you both walk side by side, listening to the noises of the city. he leads you to a park, the smell of flowers and fresh cut grass fill your scenes. 

“listen, y/n. i know you may not–.” you cut katsuki off abruptly. “katsuki.” you start, stopping to look up at him and he stops his pace to look back at you. “i’ve been thinking very long and hard. especially after you were at my place last.” katsuki looks down at the pavement beneath you two, not wanting to think of the memory of randomly waking up in your condo being completely hung over.

“and i want you to know katsuki, that it had to take me some time.” you say softly, his gaze shifts up towards where you’re standing. he looks so handsome in this lightening; in his tux, his hair is done nicely so it’s not as wild as it usually is, he has some slight eyeliner on the waterline of his eyes. being able to see him like this; how no one else does. really brings your true feelings to light.

“you love me too?” he asks quietly, scared that if it’s wrong, that this final truth may break him. but he remembers what eijiro told him.

you nod your head. “yes, katsuki. i love you too.”

in that moment, katsuki’s whole world froze. the words that just fell out of your mouth had him struck. all the times he’d come to your office to ‘annoy’ you, all the times he’d take on what his friends wanted to ask you to do it himself just to see you, all the times he’d lay in bed after a hard patrol angry that there is another man in your bed that’s not him, and all the times he’d be angry at himself for letting him fall so deeply for someone when he should be focusing.

you watch as the words process in his head, and before you can even think; you take a step closer to him, wrap your arms around his neck – your award hitting hit back softly, and pull him down for a deep kiss. 

the moment your lips touch his, he snaps back to reality and his hands fall right onto your hips. your mouths move together gracefully, all the waiting and time has finally come for this moment. you feel katsuki’s hot breath against your mouth, he groans softly into the kiss. one of your hands moves up to hold onto his hair, bringing him closer to you as his grasp on your waist tightens.

you two pull apart and you lean your forehead on his. you look deeply into his crimson eyes, searching for everything you want to say in the moment – but you can't seem to find it. he chuckles, a slight grin appearing on his face and you divert your gaze. 

“wanna come to my condo?” you ask quietly, cheeks flushed a light pink colour.

“thought you’d never ask.”

the moment the door shuts behind you, katsuki has you pinned against it. his mouth attacks yours, both of your teeth clash together as he grinds against you. you place your award on a shelf you have by your door before you throw your hands up in his hair – surely messing it up – and you tug, hard, earning a deep chested groan from him. 

his hands come underneath your thighs and he lifts you up, digging his nails into the plush of your skin. his teeth bite down on your bottom lip, making you whine, which gives him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth to explore.

he carries you through your condo to your bedroom, where he then lays you down on your bed. he pulls his lips away from yours with a deep sigh, before he starts to kiss down your neck. your nails rake up and down his tux jacket, he takes it off quickly; undoing the buttons before yanking it off of himself and throwing it somewhere in the room. he bites down on your neck, earning a moan from you, he growls at the sound. “knew you sounded so fuckin’ pretty.” he murmers against your neck before sucking deep marks into the senstive skin. 

he moves his way down, his eyes look up at you as his hands land right over the fabric covering your tits, you nod in approval and he pulls the fabric down. you’re wearing a beautiful black lacy bra that he groans at the sight of, all before ripping it off and you gasp. “katsuki! that was expensive– ohh, fuck!” you cry out as his mouth latches onto your nipple, his tongue swelling around the sensitive bud. his other hand moves up to pinch and pull at your other nipple, which has you crying out and your hips bucking up into him. 

your head falls back while you continue to moan and cry out his name, you see the way his eyebrows twitch upwards with every sob of his name. he quickly moves his mouth over to your other nipple, bringing his hand to now toy with the sopping, spit covered nipple that his mouth was just latched on to. 

“katsuki– mmffggh– need you..” you whine out, your breaths are shaky. he opens his eyes to look up at you, his mouth coming off of your nipple with a pop! “yeah? ‘nd i’ve fuckin’ needed you for five goddamn years. let me make you feel fuckin’ good!” he growls back, pulling your dress down and off of you while he moves down your body. he stands up and rips off his white button down shirt, along with his tie and dress pants, leaving him only in his boxers.

“fuck, aren’t you stunning.” he groans at the sight of you, noticing every curve, every freckle, every mark that litters your skin. he drinks up the sight, he palms himself through his boxers and you rub your thighs together with a whine.

he moves down onto his knees, he grabs your ankles and pulls you closer to the bed's edge. he opens your thighs with his hands that are digging crescents into the flesh, the moment the smell of your arousal hits him; his eyes roll so far into the back of his head while he lets out a needy moan. 

he moves his head in to take a sniff of your pussy before licking a long stripe overtop of your damp panties. “fuck, need to taste ya. shiiiit–.” he curses out and you whimper, your hand reaching down into his blonde locks. “yes, please kats.. please.” you beg softly. katsuki’s fingers hook into your panties before he rips them off of you, earning a moan from you and a groan from him. 

he uses his two fingers to spread open your wet fold to show your glistening pussy.

“oh fuck, isn’t she pretty? so fuckin’ wet for me.” katsuki blurts out before going right in and flicking his tongue up and down your pussy. he moves from licking around your slit to collect all your juices, to sucking on your pretty clit. with every move of his mouth; you’re crying out, your hands tug and pull on his blonde locks while you grind your hips into his face. your eyes roll to the back of your head while tears threaten to spill from your water line. if you thought that wasn’t a lot, the moment two of katsuki's fat fingers plunged deep into your pussy was. “kats– oh fuck!” you sob out, his mouth latched on and attacking your clit while two of his thick digits pump in and out of your pussy. 

he mumbles curses onto your pussy while he curves his fingers upwards so his thick digits hit that niiiice spot in your pussy. “k-kats! ‘m gonna cum! fuck– don’t stop!” you sob out, voice cracking as you come undone under his touch. “atta fuckin’ girl. ‘m better then your shit ex ever was, hm? givin’ you the orgasm of your life?” your eyes squeeze shut and your thighs tighten around his head, you cream all over his fingers, coating them in a gooey white substance. after a few more pumps of his fingers, he takes them out of your slick pussy. the feeling has you whimpering at the loss, you open your eyes to see him sticking his fingers in his mouth. you watch the way his cheeks hollow softly as he cleans his digits. 

“think you’re all ready f’me now. aren’t ya?” he mumbles, coming up to kiss your neck as he pulls down his boxers to free his leaky cock. you look down at the length and gasp at the size. he’s so thick, a beautiful upwards curve to his cock that you know will leave you seeing stars, there's multiple veins running up and down it, the tip is a shade of light red and you see it shining from all the pre he’s leaking.

“like what ya see? you’re gonna take this like a good girl?” he asks huskily, nibbling softly on your ear while you nod your head quickly. you feel his tip rub against your clit, which has you both crying out before you feel his tip aligned with your slit. with one slow push, your body welcomes him in and you gasp out at the feeling; your hands land on katsuki’s back, nails raking down the pale skin. 

“fuck.. squeezin’ me so tight, eh? let me in. let me feel this fuckin’ pussy.” he mumbles against your shoulder, you relax yourself and feel him work himself in until he’s allll the way inside you velvet warmth. you both cry out, you feel so full; the fullest you’ve ever felt as he’s grunting out because of how tight you are around his cock. 

he lets you adjust for a quick moment before he starts to move with quick snaps of his hips. the room begins to fill up with the sound of the plap plap plaps! of your wetness mixing with the sound of slapping skin. he holds himself up in a plank, looking down at where you two are connecting, your eyes do the same.

it’s such a lewd sight to see, the way your pussy is welcoming his cock. you watch the thickness streeeetchh your pussy wide open, you feel his thick tip nudge against your sweet spot and you toss your head back onto the mattress of the bed. “fuck. y-you like that? takin’ me s-so greedily.. fuck i’ve wanted this for so long..” katsuki groans, his crimson eyes fixated on your face now, watching every movement. 

you gasp as he attacks your sweet spot, your thighs shake and your back arches into him. both your bodies now covered in a layer of sheer sweat, his blonde locks stick to his forehead as your makeup is being ruined by the tears that you're producing. 

katsuki leans down and takes your lips into his messily. your tongues clash and fight each other, while you both loudly moan into each other's mouths. your hands find their way into his hair, tugging so he lets out a groan from deep in his chest. his pace never slows, it only becomes harsher the more things you do to him.

“k-kats.. i-inside! cum in m-me!” you cry out, pulling away from his lips to look into his eyes. he stares right back at you and you both feel each other getting lost in one another. he looks at you with such tenderness, such love for doing something so dirty. you watch a tear fall from his eye and land on your cheek. you watch all of the pent up feelings, all of the times he’s waiting, and the first confession he made to you fall from his soul. those feelings are carried through his body and into yours from where you're connected, you feel a tear leave your own eye as you gasp.

“shit– ‘m gonna cum. i love you so much.” katsuki gasps out, shoving his face in your shoulder. he bites down harshly and you whine out at the feeling. 

“kats– ‘m cumming! ‘m cumming!” you moan out, your pussy tightens and you feel your vision go white. he feels your clamping around him and with one final thrust he cums deeply into your pussy, filling up your walls with his warm, creamy cum. 

you both lay there, you feeling your mixed liquids dribble out of you. katsuki’s cock is still buried deep inside, keeping you two connected. you both lay there to try and calm down your breathing together. your hand runs up and down his back to sooth him. 

“i love you too, katsuki.” you mumble softly into his ear before kissing the side of his head. he nuzzles himself deeper into you, you feel his lips making contact with your shoulder and the side of your neck. the room smells like caramel and sex, but you couldn’t have asked for anything better, you couldn’t have asked for anyone better.

the next morning you wake to the smell of breakfast, you pull the covers off of yourself and notice you’re wearing one of your oversized t-shirts, with some panties on. you climb your way out of bed, having to hold onto your bedside table to help you stand up – your legs not too happy with the nightly activities you did just hours prior. 

you waddle into the kitchen to notice katsuki, in only his boxers, cooking breakfast on your stove. you shuffle your way over and wrap your arms around his waist. “good morning? what are you doing?” you ask, leaning over his arm to see the eggs his cooking. “why you questioning your ‘good morning’?” he asks, leaning over his shoulder to see you. “becuase i didn’t wake up next to you?” you reply, kissing his bicep before you walk over to put water in your kettle for tea.

“water’s already in the kettle, ya just need to start it.” katsuki states, his eyes looking over at you from where he stands. you flick on the kettle and look back at him with a smile. you waddle over to him. “called off patrol?” you question, grabbing his arms to wrap them around your waist. “i’d call off patrol any day for you, but especially today.” he replies, a smile growing on his face. “why especially today?” he leans his forehead down to yours.

“because today is the first day where i get everything i wanted.”

A broad, rough around the edges farmer with green eyes, a scar at the corner of his mouth, and a quiet way of taking care of things without making a fuss. He'd towed the car, given you place to stay, and offered a roof over your head for the whole month without asking for a thing in return.

Even Scout, his cattle dog who usually kept his distance from strangers, had taken a liking to you instantly, curling up at your feet like you'd belonged all along. What started as an awkward rescue quickly spiraled into weeks of slow, heavy tension—long looks over the dinner table, subtle brushes of calloused hands, and late nights spent on the porch swing watching the endless sky.

And now, all that lingering tension had finally snapped.

Here you were, looking out over the open yard while riding this farmer's thick cock out under the vast country sky, your back pressed against his chest as you moved. What had initially started as innocent stargazing on the porch swing had quickly turned into you bouncing helplessly on Toji's veiny dick.

Back in the city, the night sky was always washed out—drowned in neon streetlights and tall buildings that hid the horizon. But on the ranch, the sky felt impossibly massive, with thousands of bright stars that seemed to watch over the endless paddocks.

The cool air was biting against your bare skin—however, the chill was completely drowned out by the heat between you and Toji. Back pressed against his solid chest, a heavy denim jacket and thick woollen blanket barely kept your lap covered—hiding the pink silk nightgown hiked all the way up around your waist, your soaked panties long discarded somewhere on the wooden floorboards.

Warm light bled from the porch lamp, casting soft shadows across the deck while those stars stretched overhead.

A large, calloused hand gripped firmly onto your hip, as his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist, locking you to his body as he shifted beneath you. The movement was a slow and deep thrust that made you gasp, your eyes darting to the sea of stars as the sound echoed through the quiet night. "Ah—wait...you're so deep."

And as Toji dragged his thumb right over your throbbing clit, a sharp, needy whine tore from your throat "Please... right there—it's too much," you gasped while arching slightly off his chest. But a firm grip on those hips kept you right where Toji wanted you. He guided you over his length, leaving trembling fingers clutching desperately at the sleeves of his flannel as plush thighs slapped against his groin, making a loud, soaking mess every time you hit his lap.

"Quiet, darlin'," Toji whispered in your ear, his warm breath fanning across your neck while sharp stubble prickled your soft skin. "Scout's asleep, and the whole valley doesn't need to hear how good i'm makin' you feel. Stretching out this sweet pussy." His slow and deep thrusts continued the steady movement. "Unless you want 'em to know," he teased, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

Every time your body rose and sank back down, that thick, veiny cock buried itself completely inside your wet cunt, hitting you balls-deep. The heavy leaks of his pre-cum mixed with your own arousal, turning every slow stroke into a messy, squelching rhythm. The blunt tip struck your sweet spot every single time until your whole frame went limp. Being stretched out so thoroughly—so slowly and deep—had breathless whimpers and moans spilling from your lips.

Toji placed both hands on your hips and tightened his grip, pulling you slightly higher up his dick until only the head remained hooked inside you, teasing the swollen entrance as a gooey ring of white cream coated the base of his cock. The denim jacket and woollen blanket slipped entirely off your lap, tumbling onto the wooden floorboards and leaving you now completely exposed. Whining at the sudden emptiness.

"T-Toji...please." You squirmed, attempting to sink back down, but he held you in place, enjoying the sight of your trembling thighs and the milky sheen coating your stretched-out, glistening entrance.

"Look at you. Squeezin' my dick like you're never gonna let go," Toji chuckled, planting a sharp, playful smack to your bare ass that made you sob and squirm even more. "Got me leakin' all over your thighs before i've even finished with you."

With a desperate whine, you forced your hips down against his tip, slick glazing his cockhead. Satisfied with your reaction, Toji let out a low hum and yanked you straight down, driving every single inch back into your core in one brutal stroke.

"A-ah shit..." The sudden fullness made you moan, your head falling back against his shoulder, vision blurring as you stared blindly up into the endless, star-dusted sky. Your hands gripped his muscular thighs while he held you pinned against his groin.

Overwhelmed by the intense stretch, you turned your head to the side, burying your face in the crook of his neck—inhaling the scent of his 3-in-1 body wash and the cigarette he'd smoked earlier.

His calloused hand left your waist, sliding up to cradle the side of your face. Big, rough fingers cupped your jaw, tilting your head back until his green eyes met yours in the dim light. Without a word, Toji captured your lips in a deep, filthy kiss. His tongue slipped past your teeth to meet yours, swallowing the high, desperate noises you made while his other hand remained locked onto your hip—grinding you down onto him over and over until the mess between your legs was dripping down his thighs, soaking right through his pants.

Your core had turned slick and sticky, the wet friction slapping loudly against the quiet background of the night. Every slow thrust made your walls clench helplessly around his dick.

"Fuck, darlin'..." Toji rasped, nudging your back forward so you leaned over your own lap.

From behind, he could admire the filthy sight of your body taking every inch of him, the white froth bubbling at your entrance with every deep plunge. His fingers dug into your hips as he lifted you higher again—pulling you off almost to his tip—then guided you back down all the way, taking every single girthy inch until his pelvis slammed against your ass. "Look how deep you're takin' me. Cunt swallowing my cock whole, milkin' me like a good girl."

A soft broken groan escaped you, fingers digging into his firm thighs as he forced your body to keep bouncing at that deep and wet pace. He shifted his posture beneath you, spreading his legs wider on the swing to let you sink deeper, his hips grinding in circles inside your aching walls that made your eyes roll back.

Looking over your shoulder, your eyes met his. Toji had a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his scarred mouth.

"Pretty little city girl out here taking a good ol' farmer's cock like your pussy was built just for it," he teased, reaching around front to pull down the neckline of your silk nightgown.

He exposed your bare tits to the cool air, letting them bounce freely every time you sank all the way down onto his dick. His rough palm molded the soft, plush skin before his thumb and forefinger pinched your hardened nipple, pulling a ragged sob straight from your lungs. "M-mm—feels so good..." Your head tossed back, as your tits bounced in sync.

His grip on your hips tightened, slamming you onto his length. The porch swing creaked violently against the pace. No longer slow, he bucked his hips upward, driving himself right against your cervix with wet, heavy slaps that had you crying out.

You bounced helplessly in his lap—every time he bucked upward, the wet squelch of your sticky skin echoed off the wooden porch, streaks of warm cream coating his cock and your sticky entrance.

"You like being stretched out on my porch, darlin'?" Toji murmured, planting another hard smack on your ass before soothing the stinging skin with his rough palm.

He cupped your jaw, pressing your back flat against his chest as he tilted your head up, trailing hot kisses down your throat. "You like knowin' i'm about to stuff this tight cunt full of my cum?"

Yes! Toji—fuck, yes!" You moaned, fingers digging into his thighs as you continued to grind frantically against his lap. Your cunt clamped down around him, your inner walls clenching onto his length. "F-fuck—i'm cumming—i'm—"

"Mhm, take it," he whispered against your ear. Toji's thumb rubbing your swollen clit one last time. And as your orgasm crashed over you, your walls fluttered, squeezing his length while you stared helplessly at the stars. And with a low grunt, he drove himself upward one last time, burying himself balls-deep, holding you pinned to his lap.

Hot, thick ropes of cum spurted deep inside your pulsing cunt, stuffing you full to the brim. He groaned against your neck as he pumped his warm seed into you, making sure not a single ounce was wasted, hot cream leaking out around his dick and dripping onto his thigh.

He didn't pull out. He kept you pressed against him, driving himself in just an extra fraction of an inch, making sure every drop stayed inside you.

Neither of you moved. You slumped entirely against his chest, chests heaving and sticky, while Toji held you close—his cock still buried deep, keeping you completely stuffed as you both admired the stars overhead.

a/n: ig u could say toji made her see stars el oh el also wtf 1k?! someone eat me out rn 😗👀 thank u guys sm✌️genuinely appreciate every single one of u #muchluv <3

Eight years out of UA and somehow you're still around. Still in the group chat. Still showing up to Kirishima's birthday parties and Sero's terrible karaoke nights. Still completely unaware that Katsuki Bakugo — the number five hero, walking explosion, a man who has never once backed down from anything in his life — has been quietly losing his mind over you since roughly your second year of school.

Everyone else figured it out years ago. Kirishima figured it out first, mostly because Bakugo made the mistake of getting drunk at his own agency's holiday party and saying your name four times in one sentence. Mina figured it out next. Even Todoroki figured it out, which says a lot, because Todoroki barely notices when buildings are on fire.

You did not figure it out. You are, according to every single person in that group chat, the last person on earth who has no idea.

So one night Bakugo sat down with a receipt from a ramen place and a pen that was almost out of ink and wrote himself a list. Not because he needed help — he would tell you he did not need help — but because eight years of doing nothing had clearly not worked and something had to change.

Here's what he came up with.

Rule #1: Don't call her pretty. That's weak. She'll see right through it.

You've been called pretty before. Plenty of times. It rolls off you like water because it means nothing coming from strangers. So the first time Bakugo actually looks at you — really looks, across a table at a group dinner while everyone else is arguing about something stupid — he doesn't say pretty. He says your hair looks stupid pushed back like that and it takes you a full three seconds to realize that's the nicest thing he's said to anyone all night.Kirishima kicks him under the table. Bakugo kicks back harder.

Rule #2: Don't let her see you get soft. Save that for when nobody's watching

You broke your wrist on a mission six months ago and Bakugo showed up at the hospital before your own agency finished the paperwork. He didn't say much. He sat in the corner with his arms crossed and glared at every nurse who walked past like they'd personally wronged him. You thanked him for coming. He said he was in the area. He was not in the area. He is never in your area.

Rule #3: If she teases you don't react. Reacting means she wins.

You have exactly one move against Bakugo and it works every time. You call him Kacchan in that flat unbothered voice of yours, the one that makes it sound like an insult and a joke at once, and he goes red before he can stop it. He tells you to shut up. You don't. He never actually wants you to.

Rule #4: Don't stare. Staring is for losers who can't say what they mean.

He stares anyway. Across bars. Across meeting rooms when your agencies do joint operations. Across the space between his couch and yours when the whole group crashes at his place after a night out and you fall asleep first, curled up small and unbothered like the world isn't currently on fire somewhere. He tells himself he's just checking you're breathing. He checks for a very long time.

Rule #5: If she steals your jacket let her keep it. Don't be a bitch about it.

It was cold outside a bar in October and you didn't bring one. He took his off without being asked and put it around your shoulders before you could even shiver a second time. You tried to give it back at the end of the night. He told you to keep it, said something about not needing two jackets anyway, which made no sense, and walked off before you could argue. You still have it. He knows you still have it. Neither of you has ever mentioned it again.

Rule #6: Don't get jealous. Jealous is for weak men.

A guy from a rival agency spent an entire mixer talking to you last spring and Bakugo spent that same mixer setting three separate small fires with his quirk completely by accident, according to him. Kirishima said it wasn't an accident. Bakugo told Kirishima to shut the hell up in front of everyone, which everyone agreed was extremely on brand and extremely obvious.

Rule #7: If she's tired let her sleep on your shoulder. Don't make it weird.

You fell asleep on the train back from a joint mission once, head tipping slowly toward his shoulder like gravity had made a decision without asking you. He went completely still. Didn't move for forty minutes. Told everyone later he just didn't want to wake you up. That was true. It was also not the whole truth.

Rule #8: Compete with her. Don't let her win just because you like her. That's pathetic.

You beat him at darts once, at a bar, fair and square, and he demanded a rematch on the spot. You beat him again. He demanded a third round. By the fourth round he wasn't even trying to win anymore, just trying to make you laugh at his increasingly unhinged trash talk, and you were laughing too hard to notice you'd stopped keeping score.

Rule #9: Play it cool when she touches you. Don't be obvious.

You have a habit of grabbing his arm when you laugh too hard at something, quick and unthinking, gone in half a second. It means nothing to you. It means everything to him. He has thought about that half-second more times than he'd ever admit under torture.

Rule #10: If she's cold under the table don't offer your legs. That's insane. Nobody does that.

He does it anyway. It's a slow dinner, everyone's talking over each other, and your foot brushes his under the table by accident. You don't move it. Neither does he. What starts as an accident turns into something else entirely — your foot pressed lightly against his shin, his ankle hooked loosely around yours, both of you carrying on two separate conversations with the rest of the table like nothing is happening below it. He nearly chokes on his drink when your foot slides slow up his calf, just once, just to see what he'll do.

He does absolutely nothing. Which is how you know it worked.

Rule #11: Don't ask about her ex. That's weak and clingy behavior.

He asks anyway, once, badly, wrapped inside a completely unrelated sentence about something else entirely so it wouldn't sound like what it was. You answered honestly and briefly and didn't ask why he wanted to know. He spent the rest of that night in a genuinely foul mood that had nothing to do with the mission report he'd claimed was bothering him.

Rule #12: If she gets sick you're not worried. You're just making sure she doesn't die. There's a difference.

You caught something nasty last winter and didn't tell anyone because you hate being fussed over. Bakugo found out from Kirishima and showed up at your apartment within the hour with a bag of groceries he refused to let you see the receipt for. He made soup badly. He stayed anyway sitting stiffly on your couch like he'd rather be anywhere else until you fell asleep on his shoulder for the second time in your life. He didn't move again. This time you were awake enough at the end to notice and you didn't say anything either.

Rule #13: Don't remember small stuff about her. That's obsessive.

He remembers everything. Your coffee order. The exact way you take your eggs. The name of the street you grew up on mentioned once years ago in passing. He tells himself it's just a good memory. Kirishima tells him that's not what a good memory looks like for anyone else in the friend group.

Rule #14: Don't get quiet around her. Quiet means she'll know something's wrong.

He gets quiet anyway sometimes when it's just the two of you left at the end of a group hangout and everyone else has gone home. You've noticed. You've never asked. You've started noticing you kind of like the quiet too.

Rule #15: If she insults your cooking don't take it personal.

You told him once that his katsudon tasted like it was made out of spite. He told you to make it yourself then. You did. It was worse than his. He has never let you live that down and somehow still makes you a plate every single time you come over unasked like it's not a big deal.

Rule #16: Don't let her see the soft stuff. Like the notebook. She can never see the notebook.

There is in fact a notebook. Bakugo would deny this to his last breath. It is not a diary. It is a training log that occasionally accidentally includes things like *she laughed at something dumb I said today* written in the margins in handwriting too small for anyone to notice. Nobody has ever seen it. It stays that way.

Rule #17: Don't dance with her at Mina's stupid parties. Dancing is for saps.

He dances with you exactly once badly at Mina's birthday both of you a little drunk and laughing about how neither of you knows what you're doing. His hand sits low on your waist the entire song. Yours rests flat against his chest close enough to feel his heart going faster than the song's tempo would explain. Neither of you comments on it. Both of you notice.

Rule #18: If she calls you at 2am for no reason answer immediately. Don't overthink it.

You called once at 2am half-asleep just to complain about a case that was bothering you and needed someone to talk it out with. He picked up on the first ring even though he'd been dead asleep three seconds earlier. Talked you through it for forty minutes in a voice rougher than usual low and half-awake until you finally calmed down enough to sleep. Neither of you brought it up the next day. You both remembered it anyway.

Rule #19: Tell her the truth eventually. Stalling makes you look like a coward.

He almost doesn't. Eight years of almost. Eight years of jackets and soup and 2am phone calls and a notebook nobody's supposed to see all adding up to exactly nothing because Katsuki Bakugo — who has never once in his life backed down from a fight — has apparently decided this is the one fight not worth having.

Kirishima finally sits him down and tells him flatly that watching this has become genuinely embarrassing for everyone involved. That you deserve to actually know. That you're not going to figure it out on your own because you're the single most unbothered person either of them has ever met and unbothered people don't go looking for things they've never been told to look for.

Rule #20: Ask her out. Just say it. Stop being a coward about it

He shows up at your apartment on a random Tuesday with no plan and no speech prepared which is unlike him in every possible way. You open the door in an old shirt and no makeup unbothered as always and ask what's wrong like something must be wrong for him to be standing there.

"Nothing's wrong," he says and immediately looks like he regrets starting that way. "I just — " He stops. Starts again. "You're coming to dinner with me Friday. Not the group. Just you and me."

You blink at him. For the first time in eight years something in your carefully composed face actually slips just a fraction just enough for him to see it happen in real time.

"Is this a date Bakugo?"

"Obviously it's a date," he says too loud the way he gets when he's covering for something. "What else would it be. Are you always this slow or is it just with me?"

You don't answer right away. You just look at him for a long moment the unbothered mask cracking wider by the second and something like a smile starts pulling at the corner of your mouth.

"Friday," you say. "Pick me up at seven. And Katsuki—"

"What."

"Wear the jacket back. I've had it long enough."

paired with one of his old white merch t-shirts that have his hero name printed in grey basic text across your breast. the fabric completely drowns your body, the seams of the shoulders landing almost at your elbows. the tee sits below your ass and you've got your usual pale pink silk bonnet on your head, you have no clue why bakugou katsuki, your dear beloved boyfriend is staring at you with those eyes.

his shiny ruby eyes half lidded, head tilted clearly interested and his palm gripping his bare thigh. you haven’t even washed your face yet.

“i’ll be quiet. you won’t even notice me.”

you stomp over to his fridge, cringing at the blast of cold air. perhaps you went one glass of wine too far last night with your friends. 

“you forgot to pick up more oat milk for me, ‘suki!” you groan, flinging your head back like it’s the end of the world.

“there’s a new one on top of the fridge. you forgot to put it in the fridge, baby.” he mumbles, clicking away at his desktop, able to drag his stare away from your body. but since he’s in your orbit, he only lasts a couple seconds before he’s back staring at you.

“oh. my bad,” you huff, stretching up to grab the milk on top of the fridge.

bakugou sighs. adjusts himself in his underwear.

“the meeting is in less than ten mins. you gotta be out by then.”

you scrunch all your features like you’ve just been exposed to a horrible smell. stinky rotten eggs or weeks old sour milk. you pause from making tea just to bother bakugou.

“why do you want me out so bad? you’re being mean,” you moan, crossing your arms over your chest.

it only draws bakugou’s attention to your nipples, two points poking beautifully against the fabric of his t-shirt. you’re so sexy and so unaware, that it’s painful for the blonde. your bonnet tied with a bow at the front of your head is downright adorable.

“i’m not being mean. i don’t want a hard on while i talk to the fuckin’ commission. they’re already on my dick about other shit,” bakugou sighs, voice going breathy by the end.

he’s already showered, been up for two hours before you and has done a considerable amount of work already all while you were sleeping away in his bed. he’s already been tempted to climb in beside you, sneak under the quilt and between your legs. but he’s got to work so he can get you oat milk for your morning tea.

bakugou is shocked when a giggle spills from you. it’s slightly croaky and raspy from being early for you but still so very soothing for his ears. he frowns.

“you find me sexy like this?” your smile is glorious, toothy and it highlights the imprints of the pillows over your left cheek.

wearing his t-shirt with your favourite pyjama bottoms and fluffy striped socks? one of bakugou’s favourite looks on you. he knows exactly what you smell like right now, your morning musk, a little sweaty, skin toasty under the tee and sensitive all over.

“yeah,” he levels you with a stare that makes you feel his arousal. it sits deep in your stomach, swirls around and heats up.

this is probably the state where you feel most comfortably uncomfortable. comfy clothes, half asleep, ready to curl up in bed. but also needing a shower, sort out your hair and put on some fresh clothes. you’ve got no clue what bakugou sees in this look. he’s got the same eyes as when he saw you in your mini skirt and low neck black top for your last date.

you notice how he palms himself.

“i’m in my old pyjamas with crust in my eye.”

“perfect to me. if i didn’t have this meetin’ i’d drag you back to bed.” 

“you’re insane.”

“you like how i smell after the gym.”

“you’re not wearing old ratty clothes though. you just smell good.”

bakugou shrugs, leans back in his black leather chair and scratches his head. his eyes fixated on you.

“i mean it though. you’ve gotta get out when it starts.”

because you live to torment your lover, you lift off his kitchen counter and walk over to him across the room. you don’t purposely put in an extra sway in your hips like you want to seduce him or do you put on your signature flirty smirk.

you just walk like you’re a zombie slowly turning back into a human. your arms out to embrace him. from his seated position, he stuffs his head just below your breasts and your fingers rake through his hair.

“fuck,” bakugou feels as if his head is in the clouds, aroused to the point that he knows he’s going to have to tug one out later. “you smell so good… and fuckin’ soft.”

he looks like a man in a state of desperation, eyes shut, deeply inhaling. two large palms sneak up your top, pressing down on your bare sides, clasping onto you like a lifeline.

“thanks ‘suki,” you giggle, still in shock that he’s so visibly interested in you like this, that is how you look now that’s getting him like this. love has made him crazy.

“they’re gonna drag this meetin’, say a bunch of shit i already know,” he grunts, chin plopped under your breasts. he pouts his lips, “kiss me before you go.”

you scrunch your nose, “i’m not kissing you.”

“why?”

“haven’t brushed my teeth and you still want me to leave.”

“don’t care and if you don’t my cock is gonna be even harder than it is now.” his voice is a deep timbre and he tightens the grip on your waist when you shake your head. “you kiss me when we’re in bed.”

“it’s different when we both have morning breath.” you reason, fiddling with the gold hoop in his right ear.

“you’re fuckin’ trouble,” bakugou rolls his eyes, ducking his head underneath your t-shirt to kiss anywhere his lips can touch.

your stomach, your sides, the underside of your breasts. you’re in a fit of tickles and giggles, trying to push him out by his shoulders but he refuses to move like a boulder. “‘suki! katsuki! get out!” you laugh, “this tickles!”

then teeth get involved, soft love bites along your side and a dangerous one right beside your left nipple. you freeze from your wriggling, your mouth falling open as he starts to suck, flicking his tongue over the perked bud.

you hold his head to you, “shit. that feels good.”

then he’s off a second later, spinning you around and slapping your clothed bottom. “okay, fuck off now. everyone’s joinin’ and i hate being late.”

“goodie two shoes.”

bakugou doesn’t care, just gets comfortable in his chair and clicks away on his computer like he wasn’t making love to your breast just a moment ago.

“baby.”

“i can sit over there! i haven’t even eaten yet!”

“i left some pastries for you in those white bags, take one into my room. brat.”

“you’re mean.”

“i’m gonna eat you after. promise.” he says, and he starts the meeting, his camera on but microphone off.

voices and little faces in squares spark up once bakugou comes into picture.

“dynamight! on time like always.”

“hi kacchan. you ready for tomorrow?”

bakugou ignores the small figures of his friends and colleagues on the screen, to give you one of his sickening grins. “please babygirl. there’s an almond croissant in there.”

you gasp, “is it from the bakery—,”

“kacchan, your mic isn’t on!”

bakugou hums at you, “‘course it is.”

you skip over to grab two white bags, holding tightly. “you win this time. i’m expecting my other treat too.”

you’re about to walk out of the room when you hear, “don’t fuckin’ shower.”

“katsuki!” you shout with a smile, making your way back to his bed.

“i know my mic wasn’t on. i was talkin’ to my girlfriend.”

you hear midoriya izuku coo on the other end, “yn! how is she?”

you and katsuki were best friends, as everyone knew. you hung out all the time, just the two of you together. when katsuki wanted some quiet time, companionship, someone to rant to, he came to your dorm, because he knew you’d understand. you were always there for him, and he appreciated that. you both hung out often enough that you’d both just started entering each other’s dorms unannounced—well, sometimes you still knocked when entering his. he was a little more sensitive around personal space. but katsuki regularly entered your dorm without knocking, it was common.

luckily for you, when he opened the door, he didn’t catch you undressed, like you’d been just a few minutes ago, but he did catch the tail end of your fit. muffled scream of frustration, dull thump of your fists and feet against the mattress, all of it.

your head shot up the moment you heard the squeak of the door, making eye contact with him. he stood stock still, dressed in a casual black shirt and gray sweats, staring at you with an odd look. his red eyes flit over you, trying to see if he could understand what exactly was happening, but he found no clarity. “...you good?” he eventually rumbled, stepping into your room and pushing the door shut behind him. “the hell are you beatin’ up your bed for?”

maybe another time you’d try to find an excuse, or maybe just clearly try to tell him it was really personal, but right now your sex addled brain was kind of messing with your communication skills. “you don’t wanna know, kats,” you just grumbled, collapsing into your bed again, face smushed into your pillow. “you should leave.”

“yes, i do, that’s why i asked,” he shot back. his voice was a few steps closer now. peeking up, you saw he was leaning against your desk. “why should i leave? are you upset?”

“no, you don’t, no i’m not, and you should just leave.” normally, you’d love to spend time with him, but right now you were pretty sure he’d just make the urge worse.

“just fuckin’ tell me.”

“it’s nothing serious, it’s fine.”

“then why don’t you wanna say it?”

you turned your head to the side to give him a flat look. this is what you got for oversharing all of your personal details with him. the moment you didn’t want to, he thought it was weird. “‘cuz, you’re gonna get embarrassed.”

his face scrunched up and his jaw shifted when you said that. oh, of course he was taking it as a challenge. “no i won’t?? i can handle anything you fuckin’ tell me, i don’t care.”

you groaned, “kats, i’m serious. leave.”

“so am i!”

“you’re gonna think it’s weird.”

“no i won’t! just tell me!”

your eyes rolled. he was so annoying sometimes! but, if he wanted to know so badly, “i’m ovulating, and horny out of my mind, and so help me god i’m gonna jump the next person with a penis i see, and unless you want that to be you, you should really leave for your own personal safety.”

his jaw clicked shut. you watched his reaction for a moment, trying to decipher what it meant, but he’d gone very still. you couldn’t tell if it was discomfort, or just shock. boys always get weird about menstrual cycles, maybe katsuki did too? feeling like you’d fucked up the interaction, you sighed and turned your head back into the pillow. “stupid—fucking—cycle—” you started muttering to yourself, each word accompanied by a soft kick into the mattress again. anything you said now couldn’t make this interaction much worse, so you might as well continue letting your feelings out.

there were a few seconds of silence from the other side of the room as katsuki watched your struggle. eventually, “is it really that bad?” he asked. his voice sounded a little rougher and quieter than before.

you stopped, lifting your head again to look at him. he was scowling, arms crossed, but his ears were red, and that combined with the way his voice had sounded—was he shy? It wasn’t the most uncommon sight, the class had long since figured out how to fluster him. but in this context, you couldn’t quite tell what it meant. “yeah,” you said simply. he just stared at you, waiting for you to continue. you pursed your lips for a moment, but gave in. “when it’s bad, it’s bad. it’s on my mind all day.”

“and masturbation doesn’t help?” okay, this was getting a bit more detailed than you’d been expecting. you’d never really talked about sex with katsuki, before.

“not really, no.”

he went quiet after that, his gaze darting away. you watched as his jaw shifted, hands dug into his biceps, brows furrowed as he glared at the ground. you exhaled a sigh, looking away. “katsuki, you can go, it’s—”

“it’s fine,” he cut you off.

you gave him another odd look. “what do you mean?” you were getting a little annoyed now. the least he could do is leave you alone to masturbate, right?

he shifted, gaze darting up to yours again. “i’ll help you,” he spoke again. he still sounded shy, but it was that sound of someone trying something they were nervous about. guess that made sense, actually, since he didn’t know you were into him. he basically felt like he was throwing a shot into the dark, even despite what you’d said. “you said to leave, unless i ‘want that to be me’, right?” and oh, he was actually asking you, now, if you wanted it. “well, i’m fine with it. if you want the help.”

you just stared at him for a few seconds, completely surprised he was actually offering this. “you’re serious?”

his face scrunched, “if you don’t want it—”

“no! no, i do, i do,” you cut him off, jumping up from your bed in worry that he was about to storm off. “i just—wasn’t expecting it, is all.”

he went quiet, but he didn’t leave. just kept staring at you, wordless. your heart lifted in elation (finally, finally, you could touch him like that!!), your nerves vibrated beneath your skin. could you really just, pull him into a kiss? was it okay?

“well, i’m serious,” he interrupted your thoughts.

you blinked at him, wide-eyed, then you were stepping forward and yanking him into you by the front of his shirt. he stumbled, but you caught him, and your other hand wrapped around the back of his neck and pulled him into a clumsy kiss. his breath hitched in surprise, but he melted immediately. “fuck,” he breathed against your lips, the expletive immediately followed by a groan of your name. his right hand found your jaw, tilting your head so he could kiss you at a better angle. his other hand landed on your waist, tugging you close to him.

you walked backwards towards your bed, tugging katsuki along with you. the two of you stumbled over your steps as you desperately fought to keep your lips locked. his hands on your skin, his heavy breaths mixing with yours, lips moving against each other’s. you’d wanted this for so long, you didn’t want to separate from him for even a second. who knew if he’d want to do this again? if this was a one time thing? luckily, he didn’t seem to want to stop kissing you either, so he made it easy on you.

he was a little too distracted to notice what you were doing, the way your hand on his shirt was maneuvering him closer to the bed. you turned him so his back was to the bed, and you were in front of him. his knees hit the edge of your mattress, and he stumbled, accidentally pulling away from the kiss. you pushed him and he fell back onto the bed, catching himself on his hands. you quickly clambered onto his lap, hands placing themselves on his shoulders. “damn, you’re aggressive,” he breathed, gaze dragging itself down your body.

cue the eyeroll. “duh, just told you I’ve been horny all day,” you mumbled back, hands smoothing down his chest to slide beneath the hem of his shirt. “you think i was lying?” your teeth caught your lower lip when you felt the warm skin of his abdomen beneath your palms. you’d thought about this a thousand times, having him under you like this, alive and real. imagination really couldn’t compare to the real thing. your heart was going crazy in your chest.

his right hand caught one of your wrists, guiding you to press your hand against him harder. your eyes darted to his, surprised. “quit sassin’ me,” he muttered, his other hand slipping beneath your hoodie to grip your bare waist. he tugged you forward, slotting your hips to rest above his groin. he rolled his hips up against yours, and arousal rapidly pooled in your gut. your lips fell open on a breathy sound, your lashes fluttered quickly. it’d been a while since you’d had sex, you’d forgotten how good even foreplay could feel. and it was katsuki that was doing this, which made your heart rate spike 10x worse.

you groaned in annoyance (embarrassment) when you saw the smug smirk on his face, lightly pinching his stomach in retaliation. “oh, shut up.”

he jolted from the pinch, gently smacking your hand to get you to stop. “didn’t say anything.” his right hand landed on your thigh, this time. “‘m not makin’ fun of you. it was hot.”

you didn’t say anything back. your face was feeling a little hot.

he leaned in for another kiss, both his hands guiding you to start rolling your hips against him. “mm, fuck, you feel good,” he mumbled against your lips. you could feel him under you, a bulge pressing at your thigh with each grind. he slid his hands up your body, under your hoodie, thumbs flicking over your nipples. “you really got nothin’ on under here, huh?”

“wasn’t really expecting anyone,” you breathed back, a breathy whimper slipping out along with your words. “should’a known better, i guess.”

“nah, ‘s perfect.” he moved his head to the side, kissing at your jaw. “want it off,” he requested, hands shifting to slowly lift up the fabric. “can i?”

you chewed on your lip, focused on how nice his hands felt on you. “sure.” the moment he lifted the hoodie over your head, you were tugging on his own shirt. he huffed a laugh, but quickly removed it.

he eagerly pulled you into him again with his hands on your back, lips latching onto your neck. the sensitive area made you moan, hips rolling slowly into him. he groaned back, mostly out of arousal from the sound you’d made. you felt as his right hand skirted over the soft skin of your back, down until it slipped beneath your pajama pants. he groped at your ass through your panties, pressing you close to him, forcing you right over his bulge. it made you wet, the way he just moved your body how he wanted. made you grind against him, push where it felt good.

his other hand continued to smooth up and down your back while he moved down your neck to your collarbone. he was currently licking and sucking at the area, tongue rolling over your skin. his hand that was currently palming your ass finally slipped around to the front, cupping you through the thin fabric. “man, you’re wet,” he mumbled, his middle and ring fingers gently rubbing circles against your entrance through the damp fabric.

“ovulation does that.” your voice was breathy, completely distracted now. you’d been trying to make him feel good, too, but he was making it hard to focus. both of your hands had gone still, clinging to him for some sense of stability.

he grinned against your skin. you felt a little puff of air from the amused huff he made. “oh, it’s ‘cuz of ovulation, huh?” his fingers teased the edge of the fabric, hooking his index finger into the crotch of your panties. he slowly pulled it to the side, just enough for his fingers to slide against your clit. “no other reason?”

you didn’t say anything back, just moaned and rolled your hips into the contact.

he pulled back to get a good view of you. you caught the way he looked you up and down with half-lidded eyes, watching you buck into his hand while he made slow little circles on your clit. his other hand was cradling your ribcage, lightly thumbing at your side. “you look real pretty like this,” he mumbled, eyes catching on your chest for a moment before they continued down. his gaze locked on the bit of your panties he could see, eyeing the way they looked on you. “sound pretty, too.”

his eyes darted back up to your face, watching your expression as his fingers slid farther back, pressing at your entrance. he didn’t give any other warning, abruptly sliding two of his fingers in. you choked on a moan, falling forward to lean against him. “katsuki,” you breathed, already dizzy with pleasure. he just hummed, nosing at your shoulder while he rubbed at your walls. he thrust his fingers a few times, but he intentionally kept his fingers only up to two knuckles in, teasing you with the stretch.

he rubbed his palm up against you, making you whine from the pressure. his fingers slid deeper, until they pressed against a gummy patch inside you. his other arm slid to wrap firmly around your back, keeping you in place. he kept his palm flush against you to give your clit friction while he gently teased that spot. he mouthed at your neck, listening to the breathy moans slipping from your lips. “feels good, right?”

he snickered when all that left your mouth were garbled, half-formed sentences. he held you against him while he shifted, laying you down against your bed with your head on the pillow. you breathed in the short reprieve, gaze following him as he moved down your body. he kept his eyes on your face while his left hand tugged down your panties along with your pants, his fingers still inside you. the last of your clothes slipped off, and you were left bare.

his gaze hadn’t left your face, watching for any discomfort. you shyly bucked your hips against his fingers, silently begging for him to do something and stop watching you. he blinked and looked away, down between your legs. he groaned, finally able to see you. the thumb of his left hand gently spread your folds so he could see better, his eyes glued to the sight of his fingers buried deep in your heat. he gently rubbed at that spot inside you again, groaning in arousal. “you’re so hot down here,” he rumbled, licking his lips. “shit, you feel…” you watched him closely, taking in the look on his face. he was clearly deep in some mental fantasy right now, but he quickly blinked himself out of it, focusing on you again.

his fingers started moving again, thrusting into you at a moderate pace. they dragged against your walls intentionally, sliding over that gummy patch each time. then he dipped down, pressing a kiss to your clit. he smirked at the whimper you made, the way your legs were already shaking from stimulation. his fingers pushed all the way in, pressing flush against that particular spot, and then his tongue rolled over your clit. he rubbed at that spot while he sucked on your clit, riling you up until your moans climbed higher and higher. then his fingers inside you sped up, repeatedly pressing against you. the sucking on your clit was perfect, not too much, just enough for a knot to coil in your gut until you finally reached your peak. he kept going while you came, his left hand gently rubbing over your stomach.

he pulled away when your orgasm ended, kneeling between your legs as your body shuddered with aftershocks. his eyes trailed up to your chest as it rose and fell rapidly with quick breaths. his hands rubbed at your thighs soothingly, letting you come down. you felt almost light-headed, you were so dazed from how good it all felt. this was easily the most satisfied you’d been all day.

when you came back to yourself, your eyes fell on him. you realized katsuki was waiting for you, waiting to see whether you wanted to stop. your legs fell further open. “we can keep going.” you weren’t gonna stop here. who knew if this was a one-time thing?

he looked at you blankly, gaze darting between your spread legs and your face. you watched in silent confusion as he just sat there, unmoving. when he finally spoke, his words came out slow and intentional, “what do you want to do?”

ohhh. your lips twitched into a smile. “are you okay with putting it in? penetration?”

he nodded casually, “yeah, i’m good with that.” he seemed a little excited? he quickly hooked his fingers into his bottoms and tugged them down, until he was also naked. your eyes couldn’t help but follow the movement, watching as his cock sprung out.

he moved back up your body, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss. you sighed softly into it, wrapping your arms around his neck. your body was thrumming with anticipation, waiting for him to press into you. instead, you felt his fingers slip inside you again. “kats?” you mumbled against his lips, confused.

his fingers gently scissored inside you, twisting around. “sorry, baby—” your pulse spiked at the intimate nickname. “just need to make sure,” he breathed back, kissing you again. you moaned softly, deciding to just wait.

his fingers withdrew, and the next thing you felt was the head of his cock pressing against you. he broke the kiss to breathe for a moment, like he was preparing himself. “tell me if it’s uncomfortable, okay?” he waited for you to nod, then slowly pressed his hips forward.

the head of his cock slipped into you with a wet noise, and he immediately groaned. his forehead was pressed against yours, eyes closed in pleasure and mouth slightly open, letting soft pants slip from his lips. “fuck, knew you’d feel amazing.” his cock slowly eased further in, the slide slick and effortless. he let out another loud groan and began rhythmically pumping his cock into you. he was leaning on his forearms, positioned on either side of you, so you got the perfect view of him. the way his face was screwed up in pleasure, abs tensing with each piston of his hips. a droplet of sweat slid down his neck, and it made you distinctly aware of how hot your own body was. how hot he felt pressed against you, how hot the space between you was.

katsuki was loud, you realized. moaning non-stop, muttering curses and praises of how good you felt. “so warm and soft,” his voice was gravelly, sounding like pure honey. even the way he fucked into you was loud, making slick sounds as he dragged his cock in and out.

you couldn’t help but watch him, mesmerized by how he looked when he was like this. you wanted to do this more often with him, wanted to be able to kiss him whenever you wanted to. thoughts racing, you dragged him into a passionate kiss.

he groaned, long and low, and you felt him adjust his position over you. the angle changed, and now each thrust felt like he was pushing into pure heat, so slick and heavenly. your moans against his lips changed, the pleasure going to your head and making you dizzy. he seemed to feel the change in the angle too, and his cock began pumping into you faster.

he slipped away from the kiss, burying his face into your neck. “shit, baby, fuck, fuck,” his voice was low but whiny, overwhelmed by the feeling of you wrapped around him. your pussy was tingling in pleasure, skin hot to the touch. you were feeling so so good, and he must’ve been more lucid than you, because suddenly there was a finger rubbing circles on your clit.

your back immediately arched, legs clamping together around his waist. moans climbing higher and more frantic, while he kept fucking into you and stimulating your clit. your breaths turned gasping, and then your orgasm washed over you. your walls tightened around him, and he immediately stilled, body tensing as he fought to not come inside you. “oh, shit,” he growled, gritting his teeth.

when your orgasm ended, he pulled out, hand wrapping around himself and pumping his cock to completion. you watched in a daze as he finished a few seconds later, cum spurting over your stomach.

he stayed leaned over you, breathing hard and gaze trained on your stomach. he stared for a few moments, unblinking. then he grabbed for your nightstand, tugging out a few tissues out of the box sitting on top. he cleaned you off carefully, pressing kisses to your neck while the tissues wiped off his cum. “thank you, baby,” he mumbled.

when he finished, he relaxed against you, still catching his breath. you were still hugging his neck, his face burrowed into your shoulder. you both breathed in the silence after, relishing in the afterglow. you ignored the anxious thoughts, the ones panicking about what this meant for you two.

a minute later, he tried to push himself up with a grunted “sorry,” but you pulled him back down, shaking your head. “let’s just lay here for a moment. please, katsuki?”

he stayed silent for a moment. like this, all you could see was the top of his blonde head of hair. you couldn’t see what face he was making, what he was thinking. “okay,” he breathed. he rolled onto his side, tugging you against his chest. “we’ll lay here for a bit.”

you pressed flush against him, cuddling as close as you could. you were sweaty and sticky, but it was better than getting up. getting up felt like leaving this behind. and you weren’t ready for that yet. “okay. thank you.”

he hummed and hugged you tighter.

“i know, but we’ll be home tomorrow,” you sympathise. you get it. you really do. “you can have me all to yourself then.”

you shift your lower body to get comfortable, you swear it’s only because your leg is going dead laying on your side for so long. you twist into bakugou, your crotch bumping right over his. just at the feeling of him, hard and thick against your soft thigh, you eat your words. you don’t want tomorrow, you want him now.

bakugou had been on a two week long mission across the world, solving crime and fighting villains. he’s barely been able to call you during the weeks. a few texts littered in and definitely no photos due to the top secret nature of the mission. only to then arrive in your home country to meet you at the airport to fly to japan to meet his parents. it was the only time he could fit them in on his busy schedule and in an attempt to spend as much time with you as possible, you came along also.

which leads you about to hump your boyfriend like a teenager in his family living room. you were surrounded by family photos and cute baby photos. even a drawing he made of all-might when he was seven next to a photo of him with all-might at seventeen. you even see the baby photos his mother has already text to you, she knows to send every one she finds for your collection. 

but face to face with the grown katsuki, large hand spread over your lower back to press your hips into his. you can practically taste his breath, minty toothpaste that freshens your nose also. even in the dark you can see the lovesick way he stares at you, a sad pitiful gaze on your lips then your eyes. it even makes you laugh because despite how hot you are, trapped in his sleepy cuddle, you refuse to wear your usual pyjamas in his living room. your usual little boy shorts and a tank top for bed time. big tshirt and underwear. you’re in a long sleeve plaid set, just in case anyone wakes up for a glass of water in the night. 

bakugou can work around all the fabric. placing his hand on your bare back. pinging your elastic waistband against your hip. he doesn’t give a fuck, still counting this as his home despite the lack of bedroom. he’s shirtless, just a pair of shorts on.

“i haven’t seen you in weeks, doesn’t even feel like i had you today and the only alone time we get is on my fuckin’ sofa,” he huffs, stuffing his big head in the crook of your neck. bakugou inhales harshly, nose brushing against your silk bonnet, chest pressed right into yours.

you’re already whining, gripping on a semblance of control. “tomorrow, kats. tomorrow.”

you feel his stubble against your cheek, prickly but makes him look so fine. a few years older, a little rougher. bakugou pulls out your neck at your tone. he can predict you from a mile away.

“y’need me, baby? i haven’t been takin’ care of you, have i?”

always the first to read the room, always the first to read you. sugar sweet words from him have you falling apart like a dandelion, using your hooked leg around his waist to hump your hips against his cock.

it has been weeks. you’re used to being dicked down at least four times a week by him with multiple rounds but now, nothing. you could drool at the memory of being filled to the brim, your knees by your ears as he thrusts as an alternate way to show his love. honestly, you’d love to be pounded by him right now, pressed into a mattress with your beautiful man above you.

“b-but we can’t. your parents are across the hall. i’m not waking them. a-nd all your baby photos are out, this is your living room,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip. you can feel your clit pulse, a hot tightness that gets you moving without meaning to, “we don’t have space either a-and you’re loud.”

bakugou narrows his eyes, pursing his lips, “you’re louder than me.”

“kats,” you warn, “remember in april, for your birthday?”

“that’s ‘cause you fuckin’ touched my—,”

you peck his lips to shut him up but it only draws out the palpable need between you both. your hand flies to his cheek as he pulls you back in. he rests on his forearm slightly to get the best angle on your lips, sliding his tongue into your mouth.

your kisses are louder than the words you just spoke. 

everything happens all at once with a rush you didn’t know you both felt. on the same equilibrium, you clutch a tuft of bakugou’s blonde locks to keep his open mouth, his tongue licking after yours. but every time he tries, you smile or grin or touch his tongue for a second before pulling back.

“stop playin’ with me, baby,” he whines against your lips, “gimme a taste.”

it’s always done something to you, your boyfriend just yesterday was shouting at his sidekicks and team in a foreign country, strategising a plan and being the voice everybody listens to. to now, him listening to you, begging you to give him more.

you don’t need to speak, you just slot your mouth over his in a wet kiss that is all tongue. you lick yours over his, circle it with the tip before letting him suck completely.

your moans bubble up, your thigh tenses around his waist and bakugou’s hand under your shirt is hot. 

“you’re gonna have to fuck me, kats. i can’t sleep like this,” you whisper, laying kisses across his jaw as he catches his heaving breaths. 

you lick over his earlobe, complete with a nibble to make him fall apart. “fuck. i know, i know. turn around f’me.”

you pout, “why? i wanna see your face.”

he grins, he’s exactly the same, “just for now. it’ll be easier for me. i’ll still be here.”

you huff dramatically, awkwardly shifting around so your back is to his chest. you lock eyes with three year old katsuki in the cutest red dungarees you’ve ever seen. though the actual katsuki behind you already has his massive hand under your shirt and on your stomach, fingers passing your elasticated waistband.

your hand flies to his, “not in front of your baby photos. look how cute you were.”

bakugou scoffs behind you, instead opting to unbutton your pyjama shirt, “the fuck? were? i still am.”

you look back, letting him reveal your breasts. you shove down the blanket to your knees. “you hate me calling you cute?”

bakugou kisses your neck then presses his cock into your ass without meaning to, “i’m still the cutest man you know.”

“you’re so stupid,” you giggle softly, eyes fluttering shut as his hands finally sneak past your waistband, over your tuft of hair and onto your soft clit. “oh shit.”

bakugou knows you better than he knows himself. he knew you wouldn’t be wearing underwear, he knew you’d already be wet and he knew you’d give in.

with two flat pads of his fingers, katsuki rubs firm clockwise circles into you, letting you shove and kick your pyjama bottoms to the ground. he lets you adjust to him, opening your legs wider and resting your leg on his hip behind you. 

you moan open mouthed, head falling back onto his bicep as he lifts himself upon his elbow.

“quiet, baby. feels good, though?” he asks, completely captivated by you.

it looks like you’re from a sexy christmas calendar despite it being mid july. your red and green plaid pyjama shirt is completely unbuttoned, naked body stretched around his and rolling your hips into his hand. 

“so good. so good, gorgeous,” you mumble, running your hand over his thick arm between your legs. you kiss his bicep by your cheek, “missed this with you. being—,” you inhale sharply, then soften into a whine, “being this close to you.”

“i know, baby. i get it. didn’t see your pretty face for two weeks. was going insane, staring at photos of you. fisted my cock over them one night,” he grunts into your ear and he feels your breathing hitch, your head roll back to look at him already looking down at you.

“kats, oh god,” you mewl as the sounds between your legs get louder, squelching and wet. “w-which picture, baby?”

katsuki stops the circles on your clit, instead choosing to sink his two fingers inside of you. you reach your hand behind you, fingers crawling into his hair and gripping. it only riles him up, a deep growl into your neck.

“those mirror selfies you sent before i left. on your bed, ass up in those tiny ass yellow panties you’ve got. and that one i took of you in my bed half naked in my old tee, so fuckin’ sexy baby.”

he curls his fingers inside, rubbing at your wet ribbed walls over and over again, pressing against your softest spots.

“oh fuck. oh fuck, kats,” you chant, your hips jolting without thought, your lower half burning up with the influx of pleasure, “right there. please.”

“you’re so beautiful, baby,” your boyfriend coos. he feels your stomach tense on his arm and he knows exactly what that means, “come for me, all over my hand. c’mon, darlin’.”

sliding your hand between your thighs, you only rub your clit a few times as bakugou keeps up pistoning inside you. despite your brewing orgasm, you’re only excited about being completely and utterly full by him afterwards.

you let your orgasm wash over you with ease. clenching your eyes shut as you’re mindful to keep quiet. honey and delight ripples over your body, a warming heat spreading under your skin starting right at your core.

“kats… kats… fuck,” you mumble and when you’re about to do one of your typical high pitched screams, bakugou smushes his face over yours to swallow them. he’s feels your vocal chords vibrate in the kiss and only when he’s sure you’re going to be quiet, he pulls off you.

you stop touching at your clit and bakugou slowly pulls his fingers out of you to stuff in his mouth.

you’re panting heavy, eyes closed and laying back on him with all your weight. still, you manage to laugh “you’re so… you really missed me?”

with your heaving chest, you look back at katsuki, shirtless in the dark with his tongue between his two fingers. “a fuckin’ stupid amount.”

you eye his tattoo of your name on his collarbone, then your eyes on his inner bicep amongst his tattoo sleeve. katsuki hasn’t seen his parents in months, you only a few weeks ago yet he still flew you across the world to spend time with him. it all hits you differently now, his love spreading through you at a rate you can’t measure.

“i love you. thanks for bringing me here.”

bakugou smirks, pecking your forehead, “one orgasm and you’re getting sappy on me?”

you scrunch your eyebrows together, “katsuki. say it back now.”

“‘course i goddamn love you.” he hums, watching as you twist around to face him again.

you’re back to being nose to nose with your lover, bare chest against bare chest. “your koibito.”

this is your second visit to japan with katsuki meeting his parents. you’ve heard him speak japanese over the phone and chatting with his friends. he’s taught you a few words and sentences, often helpful when he’s watching his japanese dramas with the english subtitles on for you.

but one word his father taught you was koibito. it was the first thing he said when you stepped out of the taxi with the same smile as your boyfriend and his arms out to embrace you.

“you brought your koibito!” katsuki’s father says to him, in a mix of both languages so you understand also. his arms wrap around you in greeting.

you don’t miss bakugou’s blush but you do miss when he says something very fast to his father in japanese.

“what’s koibito?” you ask, as his father brings your suitcase inside and you watch katsuki take his out the car boot.

he’s still flushed, cute red cheeks as he glances up at you. “lover. like my partner. my person.”

“oh!” you say, “why didn’t he just say girlfriend?”

you know the word for girlfriend.

bakugou sighs under his breath, placing his suitcase on the floor, “i think ‘cause it’s my second time bringing you ‘round. koibito is more serious, a committed relationship.”

you grin, hugging his arm, “i’m your koibito!”

bakugou says the same thing he said then but more solemnly. with a soft nod, “you are and i’m yours.”

you can’t help but pout at him, lifting your face to press your lips into his. it’s starts off slow, controlled but all too soon, bakugou is shoving his shorts below his ass and you’re wrapping your fingers around his cock.

“gonna love you properly when we—,”

“shh, it’s okay. just want you now,” you speak into his mouth, obsessed with how quickly he begins panting. you flick your wrist over him a few times. he’s already as big as he can get, stiff and curved, slapped against his lower stomach.

“put me in, baby,” katsuki drawls, his lips over your cheek.

again, you cock your leg over his hip. you just need to lift up a little, press his cockhead between your legs and let him do the rest but—

“we need to use a condom. can’t make a mess on the sofa, kats,” you whine.

half lidded eyes look back at you. you can tell he’s strategising, adding up ratios to likelihoods and where the hell his wallet is and if he even stocked it with condoms.

you feel him pulse, hot and heavy in your hand.

“no clue where they are, baby. we can put the blanket under us and i’ll wash it in the mornin’. yeah?” he brushes his nose over yours.

honestly, bakugou could have said anything and you would have said sure.

after a rushed shuffle of stuffing the blanket underneath your hips, you fist bakugou’s tip and press him against your opening.

“move kats,” you whisper and in one push, bakugou slides into you utterly and completely.

in unison, a moan ripples out of you both, one of pure relief. even though you’re across the world from yours, slotted like a final puzzle piece with your lover feels like home. 

you slide a hand under bakugou’s cheek between the pillow and wrap your other arm around his back in a cuddle. bakugou’s the same, with a hand spread over your lower back and his other arm under your side to keep you close.

“you are so perfect,” bakugou whispers to you, pressing a kiss to your lips. you’re warm and slippery, an easy glide from your orgasm before. he almost doesn’t want to move, wanting you to cockwarm him until the morning.

“so are you,” you smile, breathing a little shaky because despite not moving, he still manages to press against your sensitive spots. you bite down on your bottom lip to suppress a groan. “f-fuck.”

“i used to sit here as a kid, wonderin’ when i’d get a girl. what she’d look like, if i’d even like her,” he chuckles to himself. he taps your ass softly.

“w-why wouldn’t you like your girlfriend?” you reply, blinking slowly.

“i was a dick. girls would ask me out at school and i never liked ‘em back. thought my first relationship would be completely one sided.” he breathes a half hearted laugh. “how wrong was i?”

you giggle softly, brushing his locks off his forehead. “so wrong. i’d love to tell teen katsuki how many times you begged to take me out.” 

he kisses your cheek, “he’d say you’re a fuckin’ liar.”

“flying me here to meet your parents twice. you love me so much. it actually might be one sided.” you cheese and bakugou playfully rolls his eyes.

“won’t even be fuckin’ surprised with how much i think about you.”

bakugou punctuates his comment with a thrust, an easy bounce of his hips as you lay tangled side by side.

he sees your eyes roll back in real time, a swear falling past your lips.

“oh shit. oh shit, i missed this,” you warble as bakugou keeps up his thrusts, every one keeping him deep and full inside of you. 

“shh, baby,” he says over your lips, “fuck, i love you.”

“i love you too.”

every slap of bakugou’s hips causes your chest to bounce, has you inching up the sofa but he keeps you in place. he feels incredible, everywhere. his lips on your neck, nibbling your shoulder. you don’t mean to scratch down his back but when the sweet gets sweeter you need a release somewhere. 

it’s only when bakugou speeds up his thrusts, thighs slapping against thighs, heavy breaths transferred from mouth to mouth that the sofa starts to creak. loudly.

“we’re… we’re too loud,” you moan in pleasure, practically hugging bakugou’s big head to your shoulder.

“old ass fuckin’—,” bakugou bites on your shoulder to stop his moan waking up the whole house, he can’t stop now. if it’s not the squelching of you and him, the sofa is groaning too.

there’s nothing you can do about it but stop though you both refuse to. he’s hitting all your best spots at this pace. it’s as if fireworks are being lit all over your skin, your next orgasm rumbling.

“p-please don’t stop,” you cry into him, “i’m so close.”

“not stoppin’ for shit, baby,” 

having not seen each other in two weeks, means you’re both closer quicker than usual. bakugou notes your cute little gasp, you’re about to come.

“all for me,” he coos, “lemme have it all.”

amongst the slaps, the creaks and bakugou’s accidental loud grunts, you come all over his cock.

again, he envelops you in a kiss, swallowing everything you release. you tremble and shake in his arms, tensing tight around him which only sets him off.

he tries to keep up his pace for your orgasm but his own makes him jolty and stuttered. instead he goes for slow and deep, keeping you still with his arm locked around you.

“my beautiful baby,” he’s completely fucked out as he spills inside of you, the added friction of his come making him slide even deeper. 

your hand flies to his hip, “t-too much.”

bakugou gets you, mumbling an apology in your temple and opting to pull out. but once he does, dribbles of his come does too. 

“oh fuck.”

with the original plan completely forgotten, bakugou grabs your pyjama bottoms and wipes you up.

“katsuki!” you whisper-whine.

“didn’t wanna make a mess. don’t want my mum on my case,” he speaks to between your legs, lightly dabbing you down. 

“i hope we weren’t loud” you say, blinking up at him. then embarrassment washes over you, “acting like horny teenagers. we should have waited katsuki. we were so loud.”

bakugou kisses you quiet, “they’re both old as fuck, nothin’ is wakin’ them up. you’re good, baby. we’re good.”

“still don’t even know if your mother likes me—,”

“fuck off with that shit. you both text all the time.”

it’s true, that’s how you grow your folder of bakugou fun facts and baby stories.

“okay,” you mumble and you feel cosy when he kisses you on the tip of the nose. “i really liked this.”

bakugou grins cutely, stuffing your dirty pyjama bottoms on the floor. he’ll remember to wash them tomorrow. “yeah? next time i’ll eat you and—,”

“shh, i said i enjoyed this now with you,” you emphasise and bakugou understands.

“me too. missed you.”

breakfast with the bakugou’s is a mixture of japanese and english. you forced katsuki into a t-shirt because your scratches down his back look like hes been attacked by a cat in his sleep. he’s also in a new pair of shorts since he gave the ones he wore last night to you. your pyjama bottoms stained with him are currently what you’re staring at, swirling around the washing machine.

you refuse to talk, completely convinced your boyfriend’s parents heard you fucking their son in their living room the night before. you stuff your scrambled egg in your mouth and katsuki can feel the anxiety dripping from you.

he sighs to himself, “did you guys hear anythin’ last night?”

you gasp, kicking katsuki’s foot under the table. what the fuck?

“what do you mean? was it the matsumo’s sprinklers again? they’re always fucking going off at night.” his mother replies in japanese and you blink at her, “our stupid neighbours sprinklers are broken. sorry if they woke you up, honey.”

you sit up straight, shocked at how you weren’t caught, “oh uh, no! it was only for five minutes and it stopped.”

you look over at katsuki who grins sadistically.

“i heard dad snoring. still haven’t got that checked out, huh?”

“snoring?” his dad frowns, with accented english.

“snoring, dad.” katsuki translates.

“i’ve been tellin’ him!” his mother chips in, “he still refuses to go!”

“there is nothing wrong with a little snoring,” his father defends, “sorry if you heard it though, yn.”

you shake your head, “not a thing! i must have been asleep.”

for the rest of breakfast, you watch as the bakugous laugh, eat and bicker amongst themselves. every booming laugh from katsuki has him looking at you, checking if you’re okay, feeling safe and included. 

as katsuki’s mum shows his dad something on her phone, katsuki squeezes your thigh.

“told ya they didn’t hear shit.”

but katsuki’s mum has ears of an eagle, her head robotically turning to look at you both.

“hear what?”

you almost choke on your spit.

katsuki rolls his eyes, “nothin’ mum. mind your business.”

“don’t smart me. i will still slap your head.”