ClipClop42

I'd like to imagine a Yandere!Knight who never ever leaves his princess' side for any reason.

He would sooner chop his arm off than leave you alone, not even when you were in a perfectly safe location. Your Yandere!Knight kept his head on a swivel like a paranoid owl, always on the lookout for anything or anyone that could possibly pose a threat to his beloved princess.

And should a threat present itself, he would be the first to act, sometimes before you even realized you were in danger. He preferred it that way. Nothing should have the pleasure of stressing his princess out or making her life difficult.

So, when the prospect of an arranged marriage sprang up during one meal with your family, and he immediately noted the distress marring your mien, your loyal knight decided then and there what it was he had to do.

However, no matter how many suitors went missing, or suddenly called off the impending union, your parents were still adamant about marrying you off.

That night, as you poured your heart out to your knight with tears streaming down your pretty face, he held you in his warm, protective arms. It was the first time he'd ever dared to touch you in such a way.

And you allowed it.

You allowed him to comfort you, to touch you, to kiss you... Until you could think of nothing that wasn't related to him. Just as you were the only thing occupying the space in his mind, he, too, wanted to be that for you.

As his fingers slowly, yet insistently, spread your undefiled pussy open, countless shivers ran through his body at the way you clung to him. The tears in your eyes now weren't those of sadness, but desperation. As a direct result of your lovely little noises, the tent in his pants was becoming much more noticeable by the second. With the way you were so preciously nestled in his lap and squirming all about, he had half a mind to hold you there forever.

Finally, after the third orgasm he pulled from you, you shakily clutched his forearm, panting heavily. Through your ragged breaths, you begged him to take you.

"Oh? 'Take you', you say..?" He circled his fingers around your engorged clit, causing your leg to kick out involuntarily.

"And what would you have me take, my dear princess?"

Without a single thought, you babbled, "m-my innocence, my fr-freedom—"

Your voice alone was enough to make him tremble in pure ecstasy. "My princess... My liege..." He sighed blissfully, calloused hands gripping at your plush thighs.

What if Grace made a lopsided crochet Rocky and cuddled it every night.

What if Rocky couldn’t stop making xenonite puppets of his alien friend.

Male Yandere x Fem!Reader ||

Your FWB situation was going well until he loses you to the idea of you wanting a real relationship again. But he can’t let you go so he stays, he watches, till you call him up for a rebound after the breakup. He’ll make sure he won’t lose you again

Yandere!Friend With Benefits had been watching you. Waiting for you.

Ever since you called off your little situation together he’s been waiting. ‘I want to try to get back out on the market.’ You had said to him in the middle of a busy cafe.

‘I know you’re not looking to get into a relationship. If you were then maybe we could’ve tried this out!’ The teasing in your voice still rings in his ears months later and the longing hidden in your gaze is still burned into his mind. What did you even know?

At the time he had been too shocked to answer, to voice just how badly he wanted to be with you. But before he knew it you were getting up and hurrying out the door with the cutest blush on your cheeks.

If he had called you after the fact there’s no way you would’ve believed him. Yet he couldn’t exactly leave you either. Especially not after a confession that sweet. He could never let you go now. And together you two had joined in ways he’d never felt before.

That sort of bond didn’t just happen every day, you know. It was worth keeping. Protecting.

He could still see it now even know he had done nothing but watch it slip through his fingers at the time. Your body writhing beneath his, looking like an angel as you squirted all over his cock. Covering him in your sweet juices. Refusing to stop until your legs were jelly and you needed water or else you’d nearly faint when you’d try to stand.

With all the stress in your life he relished being that bliss for you. Besides, you just looked too cute all fucked out, your body jiggling from the force of his thrusts.

Every time you’d try to squirm away his fingers would fog into your thighs and slam you back down his length. Maintaining such a frantic pace till you’d drench his cock with your release, milking his throbbing rob for all it was worth.

All he is left with is the memory… and the cameras he still has hidden across your apartment. It’s his only remaining connection to you. A little sick and twisted of him, sure. Not much different from home videos or couple photos people still keep after a breakup. At least that’s what he tells himself as he watches you.

Date after date comes to pick you up at the door yet none ever make it through. Until one does and a strange ugly feeling twists heavy in his gut. He watches your whole relationship from the safety of the screen.

Never interfering as much as he wants to. He rarely leaves the desk, not trusting himself no to go over to your place and properly claim you as his.

Much to his amusement the relationship falls apart pretty quickly. The guy messing things up by not realizing what a catch you are. Been there, done that. That asshole will soon learn the giant mistake he just made by letting you go like he did.

But, oh? What’s this? Maybe his shot isn’t lost at all. He can see you pacing your apartment, his contact pulled up on your phone.

“Do it, babygirl, just give in and beg me to come back,” he whispers to the screen, stopping mere inches from it.

The second your thumb is hitting that call button he’s bolting out of his chair, responding to your timid ‘hi’ with a blunt, ‘I’m on my way, sweetheart.’

That’s how Yan!FWB finds himself face to face with your perfect glistening cunt. Exposed to his hungry gaze, restraint hanging on by a thread. This is his chance. His second chance to make sure without a doubt you’re his. Also his second chance to get back into the warm snugness of your tight channel.

“Pl-please move. Do—nngh!—n’t stop,” you whine, just as pretty as he remembers. So much better in real life than on audio.

A dark grin spreads across his face as your eager plea. He can feel his tight you are for him. The way your pussy clenches and ripples down his cock as he pushes deeper and deeper inside of you.

You’re so damn tight, tighter than he remembered. It’s like your cunt had forgotten what it was like to be owned by him. Pleasured by him and stretched to the point of reaching your breaking point. And he knows exactly why. It isn’t that hard to guess.

“You’ve missed this, haven’t you baby?” He purrs in a low teasing rumble.

With one more swift snap of his hips he buries himself in your clutching heat to the hilt, his balls slapping settle against your ass. A strangled whimper escapes you as much as you try to hold back. It’s no use, he knows how much you’ve missed him.

“Bet you miss having a real man’s cock stretching out this greedy lil’ pussy. And crave being fucked like the desperate slut you are.”

Yan!FWB rolls his hips, fucking into you with long smooth strokes that hit deep within your hot needy sex. Every thrust has him diving deeper into parts of you that haven’t been reached in months. Stretching you wider around his girth. It pulses and throbs against him, begging for more.

It takes all the strength he has not to just start pounding away at you immediately. But more than anything he wants to make this reunion good for you. Because right now he has never actually felt better. He can feel every inch of you welcoming him back home.

It’s obvious how much you’ve been aching for this. Not only for this but aching for him too. Even if you can’t say anything or admit it to yourself or anyone else.

He can see it in the look in your eyes.

His hands smooth up and down your thighs, hiking them up around his waist. From that alone he watches you quiver. So he angles his hips to graze along your sweet spot just to see you gasp.

“I’m sure that pathetic excuse for an ex couldn’t satisfy you. Doubt he never even bothered to try, did he?” He asks with a cruel laugh. He narrows in to whisper in your ear. “I can tell he couldn’t fill you the way I can, couldn’t fuck you like you need to be fucked.”

The drag of his cock along your walls is driving to ecstasy. You can feel him everywhere yet you need more. And you know that he’s the only one who can give it to you. No other man can satisfy the ache between your thighs like he can.

Stranglers whimpers leave you as you writhe beneath him, ready for more. So ready for it.

He grips your hips harder, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your ass as he picks up pace. The wet messy sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room as he fucks into you harder and faster with zero abandon.

Pleasure bursts across your body in ways you’ve missed and are sure of now that you can never go without again.

“Oh yeah, that’s it, baby. Take my cock. Fuck, she missed it so much. Take it like the good little cock slut you are,” he snarls, pure dominance in his tone that makes you automatically spread your legs wider. “This is everything you’ve been missing, sugar. It’s what you need— I’m what you need.”

His words churn inside your mind, back and forth with every thrust till it consumes you. He’s right. This is all you’ve been needing. What’s the point of a relationship with some asshole if you didn’t have this too? One night like this is worth ten more with someone else. It’s obvious in the way he works your body like he owns it.

One hand slides up your body, worshipping every inch that it touches until it tenderly wraps around your throat. Squeezing just enough to make you gasp. While the other immediately finds your clit to greet it like an old friend.

Every tight flick or pinch of his fingers is heightened by your lack of air. Tingles shoot down your spine, the intensity of his brutal jackhammering cock sends shockwaves through your body. All thoughts of your ex fade as though he never existed. Only this.

The knot in your belly tightens, getting closer to that glorious release you’ve been in search of for so long now. Your heart is racing as every muscle in your body tenses. Ready to give him everything he’s been wanting too.

Desperate to ground yourself in something your hands fly out and scratches down his back, digging in deeper as his thrusts hit right where you need them to. The relentless rocking rhythm of his hips helps push you over the edge into bliss.

Yan!FWB can tell when you’ve come undone around his girth, can see the way your body starts to shake and tremble as he fucks you with everything he has. Your pretty cunt milks him dry as he spills his massive load straight into your womb. From that second he knows.

He fucking knows without a doubt that you’re now his. That you always will be. No matter who tries to replace him, no one can ever level up to how good he can make you feel. No one can ruin you like he can.

it started as an accident.

the drinks in your system were making every rash decision for you as sticky fingertips pulled him into the backseat of his car, thankfully parked just outside the bar behind some bushes—far away from prying eyes.

sleek leather seats held him close to your skin, the new car smell ruminating in your senses when your mouth aggressively crashed into his, breathing him in your lungs.

kirishima was just as buzzed as you were, his enormous hands held each side of your hips beneath your skirt, the fabric bunching at your waist. his fingers dipped into the soft flesh, forcing your panty covered slit to rub on the zipper of his jeans, the cold metal making you gasp.

he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue down your throat, stale beer and fried food swirling around your tastebuds. you quickly reciprocate, licking the flavors off his tongue like you need him to survive.

“looked so good tonight eiji, didn’t mean to pull you away from your friends, just couldn’t help myself.” you mumble, pulling off his lips, a web-like string of spit connecting the two of you.

your hand shakes as you begin to pop open the button on his pants, the aching tent so generous the zipper starts to slide down on command, making room for the growing protrusion.

“i’m glad. rather be here with you anyways baby, gonna make you feel real good.” until he’s reaching into his wallet with two fingers, feeling around for the little tin packaging he always keeps on him for desperate times like these, except this time?

it’s not there.

the hand on your hip comes flying up to cup your cheek, the warmth instantly burning in his gentle grasp. “shit, shit, shit, baby—don’t have a condom.”

And I didn’t really know what that meant, only that I always said no, but for some reason or another I was very annoyed and a fight sounded pretty good so for the first time ever I said “yes”

And I don’t know what I was expecting to happen, but I remember my mom just going “Okay, then. Let’s fight. What do you want to fight about?”

And I remember it occurring to me all of a sudden that the onus was on me to generate the energy to pick something to be mad about, and wishing she’d just do something worth fighting FOR me, but she just went, “I’m not the one who wants to fight. If you want to fight, you have to pick something to fight about”

Here is a tasting menu of questions to ask about your local museum!

The Institution:

What is the museum's mission?

Does the museum collect a broad range of items or does it have a single specific focus?

Is the museum hosted by a research institution?

Does the mission language cater to the local community, the academic community, or the museum's shareholders?

How are exhibitions funded?

Is the building purpose-built or repurposed?

Where did the objects come from?

Does the museum have a history of repatriating objects when asked to?

Outreach:

How complete is the online collection?

How searchable is the online collection?

What educational programs are offered?

What ages are the educational programs for?

Does the museum have an active social media presence?

Has the museum hosted any community events recently?

Does the museum have internship/fellowship/career programs?

Exhibition Pedagogy:

What was the first thing you saw when walking into the exhibition?

Do the wall texts adequately prepare you for what you see in each gallery?

Are objects presented together or one-by-one?

Where are the object labels in relation to the objects? What seems to be more important, the visual effect of the object or its context?

Are the object labels easy to understand?

Do the object labels focus on description, interpretation, or historical context?

What adjectives are used in the object labels? How do they make you feel?

Is there any interactive material?

Accessibility:

How tired do you feel after walking through an exhibition?

How many benches are in a typical gallery?

Are elevators centrally located or on the periphery?

Is the building fully wheelchair accessible?

Are the plinths and object cases easy to walk or wheel around?

Are the wall texts visually contrastive and easy to read from a distance?

Do the audio guides describe the objects at hand? Or do they exist to provide supplementary information/commentary?

here is a commission of more telekinetic kitty content (still unnamed despite the huge amount of suggestions I got, im indecisive 🥀) !

thank you for commissioning this because now I've actually got some ideas running thru my brain on this. I also think it's appropriate for telekitty to have unchecked power, i.e being able to teleport a specific blade from unknown lengths straight to your door. It's only right

ཐིཋྀ Arguing w katsuki in the car bout his new secretary who openly flirts w him

.𖥔

.

.

You told yourself it was nothing.

Katsuki’s former secretary had recently been forced to retire after a severe injury left him paralyzed, and Katsuki hadn’t wasted a second hiring a replacement. The new secretary was a girl—no big deal, you told yourself. She was efficient, friendly—and pretty. Too pretty. But Katsuki treated her like he treated everyone else; barking orders, tossing paperwork, never giving her more attention than necessary. Still, you swallowed the unease and told yourself you were imagining things. That it didn’t matter.

Until it wasn't.

Your shift didn’t start until 1 p.m—you were only on a half day. You were texting Katsuki when you casually asked if he’d eaten lunch yet.

And strangely enough, he said no.

You smiled at your phone, already standing from the couch. A sweet idea bloomed in your chest, and before you could overthink it, you were already in the kitchen, packing him a proper meal.

And not just that.

You decided you’d drop it off at his agency yourself.

You were known there— Dynamight’s girlfriend. You’d been around since the very beginning. Everyone knew that while the agency was filled with katsuki's explosive temperament, there was always one bright corner.

You.

The sunshine that softened the rough edges. You’d made a name for yourself.

..Just not to everyone, apparently.

You barely made it three steps inside the agency when she appeared at his side— heels clicking softly against the floor. She laughed at something he said, something that hadn’t even been funny, and leaned in close enough that her shoulder brushed his arm.

Once.

Then again.

Her eyes flicked to you— she smiled.

Sweet. Deliberate. Territorial.

This bitch.

Katsuki didn’t notice. He never did.

“Hey,” he said instead, glancing at the lunch bag in your hands. “You didn’t have to—”

You handed it to him without a word and turned away before your hands could start shaking, before your eyes could betray you.

By the time he picked you up from work later that night, the tension in the car was suffocating. The engine hummed beneath you. City lights blurred past the windows. You kept your eyes fixed outside, jaw tight.

Katsuki’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. He could feel the anger rolling off you in waves, thick enough to choke on. His jaw clenched— he didn’t like this silence, not when it came from you.

He was used to your warm smile and affectionate nature.

Not whatever this is.

His sharp eyes flicked toward you. But you were still staring out the window. Not looking at him.

“The hell’s your problem?” he snapped finally, red eyes cutting sideways to your profile.

“You’ve been actin’ like a damn ghost all day.”

You stayed silent, eyes fixed on the window, only blinking as the city lights smeared across the glass.

Katsuki snorted, irritation curling tight in his chest. He couldn’t stand your cold indifference. It was pissing him off.

“You givin’ me the silent treatment now? Seriously?” He said in annoyance, his tone filled with irritation.

“What the hell’s wrong with you? You’ve been like this all damn day. What’s your problem?”

He repeats. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, veins standing out along his forearms before he spoke again.

“You gonna tell me what crawled up your ass?”

You laughed once, sharp and humorless.

“You’re funny.” you said flatly, still staring out the window.

Katsuki's jaw clenched tightly as his irritation spiked at your sarcastic retort.

“Oh, great. Now you’re gettin’ sassy. How lovely.” His eyes flicked toward you.

“You’ve been actin’ like a damn ice princess since I picked you up. C'mon, what’s the issue? You on your period or somethin’?”

That did it.

A vein popped at your temple, your eye twitching as you took a slow, measured breath through your nose.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said coolly. “Figure it out."

Katsuki scoffed, frustration rising.

“You know I’m crap with that emotional bullshit. You think I wanna play a damn guessing game right now?" He snapped.

"You're the one who's pissed off, so friggin tell me what the hell is wrong with you!"

Then, you finally spoke, voice tight, teeth clenched.

“Your secretary.”

Katsuki's expression faltered for a brief second before his annoyance flared up again.

“My secretary?” he shot back.

“The hell do you have against her? She just works for me.”

His eyes narrowed as he glanced at you.

“What about her?”

“That,” you said, finally turning to him, brows drawn tight. “Exactly that.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow at your words, clearly confused by your response.

Then, he scowled slightly, not understanding your frustration.

"What the hell do you mean 'exactly that'?" He growled. "She's just doin' her job, babe. Why are you all bent outta shape over it?"

“No, Katsuki,” you snapped. “She’s doing you— or at least trying to.”

You rolled your eyes and clicked your tongue as you leaned back in your seat. “And don’t ‘babe’ me.”

Katsuki’s expression darkened instantly, red eyes narrowing as he scoffed in disbelief that you were suggesting such a thing.

"Doing me? What are you even talking about? And I'll say 'babe' to you whenever I damn well please."

He retorted back, his tone becoming more sharp as the tension in the car thickened.

Then, sharper—warning laced through his voice—

“You watch your mouth.”

“Then you open your eyes,” you fired back almost immediately.

Katsuki's irritation flared up even more with that. He felt like you were underestimating his intelligence.

“I have damn eyes,” he snarks. “And what I’m seeing is you bein’ irrationally jealous for no goddamn reason.”

That hurt more than you expected.

Because you weren't jealous for nothing, you've seen it all. Every look. Every touch. And the fact that he hadn’t—that he didn’t care enough to see it—made your chest burn.

“Pull over,” you said suddenly, sitting up and already reaching for your seatbelt.

Katsuki blinked.“What?”

He glanced at the road, then back at you.

“The hell? We’re still twenty minutes from the house.”

You didn’t answer. Seeing the firm set of your jaw, he knew arguing with you would be pointless.

With a frustrated growl, he jerked the wheel and pulled over to the side of the road, the car shuddering to a stop. He turned toward you—

—but you were already opening the door.

Cold air rushed in as you stepped out onto the sidewalk. Snow drifted down softly, biting against your skin, your clothes doing absolutely nothing to keep the chill out.

But you barely felt it with the mixed fury and humiliation burning within you.

“Stupid,” you muttered under your breath, teeth clenched.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

Katsuki cursed under his breath as he watched you step out of the car without another word. The anger boiling in his chest evaporated almost instantly, replaced by confusion and concern.

“Shit—”

He was out of the car a second later, boots crunching against the snow as cold air bit into his skin. Snow drifting softly around the street.

“What the hell are you doing?” he barked, calling out to you.

“Get your ass back in the car— it’s freezing out here!”

You didn’t answer. Didn’t even look back.

You just kept walking.

Katsuki felt something twist hard in his chest.

“Oi!” he shouted, irritation bleeding into worry. “Where the hell are you goin’? It’s snowing, for fuck’s sake!”

You ignored him. That was enough.

He jogged after you, catching up in a few long strides before grabbing your wrist and yanking you to a stop.

He then spun you around to face him, grip firm, breath coming out in sharp visible puffs.

“Are you stupid?” he snapped. “You’re gonna freeze your ass off out here—”

“Let go.”

Your voice was cold. Flat. It caught him off guard.

Then Katsuki froze.

Because you lifted your head then, and whatever he’d been about to say died in his throat. Your brows were trembling, eyes glassy, lips quivering despite how hard you tried to keep them steady.

His grip on your wrist loosened, his own expression softening for a moment.

“…Damn it,” He muttered under his breathe, his earlier emotions replaced with concern.

“You’re gonna catch a cold,” he said, softer now.

“You know that?”

“I don’t care,” you murmured, trying to pull your arm free. “Let me go.”

His grip tightened again— careful this time, but unyielding.

“No,” he said firmly.

“I ain't lettin’ you freeze your ass off out here just ‘cause you’re pissed.”

You haven't even processed his words, when he had already bent down and lifted you clean off your feet, hauling you over his shoulder effortlessly. Your breath hitching as his hand settled on your butt to keep you steady.

“Katsuki— what the hell—!”

“Save it,” he grunted, already turning back toward the car. “You’re not walkin’ anywhere like this.”

By the time Katsuki reached the car, whatever restraint he’d been clinging to was gone. He opened the passenger door with one sharp motion and set you down none too gently, irritation flaring as he shoved you into the seat.

Before you could protest, the seatbelt was already snapped into place, his movements rough, impatient.

“Stay put,” he muttered under his breath.

He slammed the door shut, snow crunching beneath his boots as he stalked around the car and climbed into the driver’s seat, jaw tight.

Once he was seated, he started the engine and turned up the heat, the warmth of the car starting to fill the interior.

While the car started moving again— He glanced over at you, his voice gruff as he spoke.

“You’re gonna tell me why you’re so pissed off."

From his side, you looked stubbornly closed off— cheeks puffed, arms crossed tight against your chest, eyes fixed anywhere but him as you muttered under your breath bitterly.

“Told you already, asshole.”

Katsuki exhaled harshly, fingers tightening around the steering wheel as his patience thinned but he tried to keep his cool for your sake.

“Yeah, you said somethin’ about my secretary, but that’s bullshit,” he snapped.

“You seriously have a problem just ‘cause she works for me? That’s ridiculous, and you know it.”

“Clearly I don’t,” you fire back, finally turning toward him. “Not when she’s hitting on you right in front of me!”

His eyes widened for half a second before he scoffed, shaking his head as he responded. He refused to believe that his own secretary would be flirting with him, let alone when you were present.

“Bullshit. She’s just being friendly, nothing more You’re being paranoid.”

That stung.

“oh, so you’re taking her side,” you said flatly, nodding as if you’d already accepted it. “Yeah. I see, I see.”

You looked down at your nails, pretending not to care—then suddenly lunged for the door handle. You yanked.

The car door didn't budge.

“What the—” You looked back at him, eyes narrowing. “Did you lock it?”

Katsuki stared, deadpanned, at you like you’d lost your damn mind.

“Of course I locked it, you idiot,” he replied, followed by a heavy sigh.

“You really think I’m gonna let you run off into the night again?”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE TAKING HER SIDE!” you shouted, frustration finally reaching it's peak.

Katsuki's expression darkened at your accusation.

“I’m not taking her damn side!” he barked back.

“She’s just doing her job, and if you think I’d ever—”

He cut himself off abruptly as something clicked within him.

His scowl deepened.

“…Wait.”

Silence stretched between you as he exhaled sharply through his nose, realization hitting hard.

“You seriously thought…?” His voice dropped low.

“Fuck no. That woman doesn’t mean shit to me compared to you. Ever.”

“That’s what I’m trying to say, dimwit,” you snapped. “When I brought you lunch, she was all over you. She saw me—and she smiled. Then she kept going.”

Katsuki’s jaw clenched, fury flashing across his face as the pieces finally fell into place.

“That bitch..” he growled under his breath.

Then he looked at you, anger shifting into something more protective.

“You should’ve told me right then,” he said.

“I would’ve thrown her delusional ass out that window.”

A pause.

“…Why didn’t you say anything?”

You leaned back against the seat, eyes drifting toward the window, frown deepening.

“Would you really have believed me then?” you muttered. “You didn’t even believe me earlier. And now you do?”

Katsuki’s expression twisted at your words— like you’d just slapped him. His pride took the hit first, but something deeper followed right after.

“Fuck… you’re right.”

The admission came rough, dragged out of him. His eyes flicked away, jaw tight, before he looked back at you— serious in a way he rarely allowed himself to be. Sincere.

"I was too pissed to listen properly earlier. Shouldn't have ignored what you were really saying."

His hand left the wheel for once— reaching toward yours where it rested on the seat between you both. He didn’t grab it; just hovered his palm over your knuckles like an apology he couldn’t quite voice yet.

“I’m firing her ass tomorrow,” he muttered instead.

You looked at him again—really looked—then smirked. Leaning in without warning, you pressed a quick, soft kiss to his lips.

Katsuki froze for half a second before instinct kicked in and he kissed you back, a soft, brief moment of connection.

Afterwards, you pulled away, leaving him stunned and slightly flushed.

You then lifted your hand between you, a pinky extended with your head tilted.

“Promise?”

He looked at it for a moment before he snorted, shaking his head with a fond scowl.

“Tch… you’re lucky I’m whipped for your dumbass,” he grumbled— but his pinky hooked around yours anyway without hesitation. “Yeah. Promise.”

She’s gone by tomorrow morning.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

The next day.

The agency doors loomed ahead as the secretary strode up, heels clicking confidently against the pavement. She barely slowed when security stepped in her path.

She frowned.

“What do you think you’re doing? I work here—let me in.”

The guards didn’t budge.

Her annoyance instantly turned to relief when familiar blond spikes came into view. Her face lit up instantly.

“Oh, thank god— Mr. Dynamight!” she called in a sweetest voice she can muster. “They won’t let me—”

Her words were cut off with a startled gasp as someone brushed past her shoulder.

“You’re in my way.”

She spun around, disbelief flashing across her face. “Excuse me? Who the hell do you think you are—”

She stopped cold.

The secretary watches you as you walked straight up to Katsuki, Your hands landing on his biceps first, fingers curling into the fabric of his sleeves. Then your hand slid upward.

Not teasingly— but Intentionally.

Your fingers traced along his arm, past the curve of his shoulder, until your palm settled against his jaw. Your thumb pressed lightly beneath his cheekbone as you tilt his face just enough toward you— claiming his attention without a word, his stare fixed on you, ears faintly pink.

Only then did you glance back at her.

Your grin was wide—absolutely, nastily— vicious.

The secretary stood frozen, color draining from her face as her jaw dropped in realization.

“Uno reverse card, biatch,” you said sweetly, punctuating it with a wink.

“Wait till daddy gets home.”

That simple sentence alone was enough to send chills down the spine of your identical twins backs. They paused in their tracks frozen in place as their assortment of chalk crayons fall on the floor, leaving behind broken chips and dust.

You’d told Kenji (your little boy) and Kisaki (your little girl) to get somewhere and sit down a long time ago. Just this morning they’d woken you up from your nap by deciding to have a full on scream battle over who got the last waffle. Then when you asked them to help with the dishes they broke two plates and a glass cup which you had to clean up. And then you had to patch up little Kenji’s knee when he decided to take a dive off the sofa onto the hard floor.

And now they were drawing in the walls. With chalk.