S..T..Slvt

“baby. go,” you hum, dragging your slippered feet across your floor.

you tuck your body between his open legs, putting down your bottle and snacks to lightly tickle under his chin. you receive the harshest glare you’ve ever experienced from him, though it’s still miles below the ones he gives at work. 

calloused hands find the bare backs of your soft thighs and lightly, he squeezes.

“you fuckin’ hate me,” he huffs, but his pout comes through. all his features softening under your attention, minus the twist in his brows. “gettin’ rid of me like this.”

you don’t miss the hickies on his neck, two maroon bruises because all you’ve done together these past few days is kiss, cuddle, eat and have sex. since bakugou became your boyfriend, he often forgets about his own apartment. his home is much larger, much more luxurious with built in speakers in the ceilings and a double headed shower. but he always lingers in yours, though he never outstays his welcome. even now.

“i don’t want you to leave but you need to pack for your mission tomorrow,” you smile, taller than him as he sits.

he feels delirious when he stuffs his face in your cotton soft stomach. you smell freshly showered, clean, cosy and like home. bakugou feels like his heart has been stabbed with a fork. he already misses you and you’re right in front of him.

it’s like he’s fighting the devil on his shoulder, to just stay over again tonight and get up early tomorrow. he can grab his shit from home and go straight there. he knows that plan will throw his whole day off tomorrow. also you hate waking up early.

he blinks at you slowly, like a cat that loves what he sees.

for you, it’s easy to get hot from his touch alone and that stare makes you nudge in closer to him. you want to sit on his lap, kiss down his neck again, despite being all over him an hour ago.

“you want me to piss off so you can watch love island,” he breathes, looking up at you with the sweetest ruby puppy dog eyes. there’s a scratchy tone to his voice, sleepiness clearly taking over though he fights it to spend a second longer with you.

you know for a fact you’re the only person in this universe that has seen katsuki like this. that thought alone makes you want to call up his job and say he can’t come in tomorrow. say he’s sick so you can cuddle his big head in your lap. who would you even call? the hero commission? his sidekicks? he is his own boss.

“i do have a load of episodes to catch up on since you’ve been here,” you say sweetly and he eyes your snacks, then your water bottle placed on the shelf beside him.

he’s a grumpy baby in a twenty seven year old, muscled man’s body. he scrunches his nose at the mention of that show. he hates all reality tv, so he says, even though he ends up asking you for details throughout every episode.

“just say you hate me,” he grunts, tilting his head up for a kiss.

you don’t give in just yet.

“i love you but you’ve gotta go. you’ll be even grumpier without sleep in the morning,” you smile.

he rolls his eyes. ever the dramatic one. “yeah, yeah. i get it. love you too.”

you stand there for a few moments. his grip on your thighs getting tighter, his chin in your stomach. he rubs his cheek against your palm, his stubble prickling against you with every move.

“you need to put your shoes on—,”

“you look so pretty like this,” he murmurs, even biting down on his bottom lip.

you narrow your eyes at him. you know exactly what he’s doing and it usually has a hundred percent success ratio.

he pulls off you, keeping his hands on your thighs to look down your body. stupidly, it causes you to look down at yourself too.

your soft pastel pink  boy shorts because you get hot at night. your comfy low cut navy strappy top, that has seen better days but you have no need to replace yet. your nipples poke through the fabric and you don’t miss bakugou’s gaze wafting over them with his tongue poking his cheek.

he looks as if he’s about to moan or take a bite out of you. you can’t tell yet. you don’t mind either.

“katsuki, stop it. you were supposed to leave an hour ago,” you look to your clock beside your front door. “an hour and a half ago.”

bakugou grits his teeth then relaxes by kissing the strip of your stomach between your vest and shorts. he releases the quietest whine.

“i wanna stay here with you.”

even though he’s being dramatic, you’ll see him in less than a week, every word releases tingles down your spine.

you press a kiss to his lips, to which he eagerly pushes back. his hands sneak up to your waist holding you with purpose. it’s only a peck but everything he’s feeling is translated through.

“you’re killin’ me,” he says onto your lips.

“it’s not me, baby. you have the world to save tomorrow. you can make love to your girlfriend when you get back,” you say tenderly, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

“i’m givin’ you a good fuckin’ when i see you again.”

“you always do,” you shrug playfully and bakugou chuckles, shaking his head in resignation.

“fuck. fuck my life,” he grunts to himself, pulling his slides off your shoe rack and shoving them onto his feet.

“it feels like you’re obsessed with me, kats,” you giggle to yourself, stepping back so he has space to stand up and sling his duffle over his shoulder.

he raises one eyebrow, a huffy laugh releasing from his throat.

“hm? you think?” he takes his hand through his hair, a light pink blush on his cheeks from your attention. “‘course i fuckin’ am. i’m comin’ right back to get you when i’m done.”

you lift up on your tiptoes, hands on his pectorals, “if you say so.”

“i do say so. i am sayin’ that,” he mumbles, hands finding your ass to lift you with ease.

you wrap your legs around his waist so he doesn’t have to bend to kiss you.

“next thursday, okay?” he kisses the corner of your lips, feeling your cheeks rise. “and still text me. i’ll have my phone on me in the evenings.”

you smooth down his eyebrows with your thumbs.

“yes, dynamight sir,” you drawl, but you lean in to peck him, a noisy kiss that has him chasing after you. he moans softly.

“another.” he whispers.

with your arms wrapped around his neck, you give his bottom lip a nibble, one that causes an exasperated groan. then you slot your lips over his, pushing your tongue into his mouth to tangle against his. it’s long, wet and pulses throughout your body.

you push your chest against his as if you’re trying to merge into one, bakugou’s fingertips sinking into your ass cheeks.

it’s you that pulls away, landing two kisses on his lips for good measure.

“baby, no.” he complains.

since you’re the only one with self control here, you tap his shoulder.

“put me down now. you’ve got to go.” you say controlled and bakugou throws his head back in annoyance, “need you wide awake on the field so you don’t get hurt. i don’t wanna see a scratch on your pretty face when you come back.”

that gets him putting you down, your feet finding the floor. since getting with you, he’s much more mindful of his recklessness and getting hurt. bakugou doesn’t want to scare or upset you. you’ve become his beacon of light, his conscience and answer.

“my pretty face?” he grips the handle to his bag, a smirk rising. he’s still taking in his last few seconds.

you nod, “yes. come home safe to me.”

“i always do. don’t have to doubt me, princess.”

the pet name gets you rolling your eyes to hide how it makes your stomach do flips. he undoes both your door locks and slowly opens it with his shoulder like it weighs a tonne.

as if it’s becoming real all of a sudden, you throw yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around him in a cuddle under his hoodie. you feel complete once you stuff your cheek between his pectorals and you squeeze him tight as thick arms cradle you in. katsuki’s always warm and toasty, a tall standing mattress for you to fall asleep on.

despite you urging him to leave, it doesn’t mean your heart doesn’t ache.

“i’ll miss you,” you say, eyes squeezed shut.

you’re just as dramatic as him, you just hide it better. you’ll see him next week.

“i’ll miss you. gonna think about you when i’m on the camp site shittin’ in the woods.”

your laugh makes bakugou’s chest swell.

“you’re so annoying.”

he shrugs.

with all the power he’s ever possessed in one single time, bakugou lets you untangle from him.

“i’m gonna go now.” he looks down your empty corridor, “i could stay over tonight and leave in the mornin’—.”

“you’re not waking me up at three.”

he turns to you with a frown.

“fine. another kiss, to wish me well,” he demands.

that you can do.

a smush of your lips, you gripping his tee as his hand cups your chin.

“another. for good luck.”

you huff playfully but still you give him another kiss. one that has you opening your mouth and letting him slot his tongue in between. it goes on longer than you mean, with you dragging him closer and his hands land back on your hips.

it’s when he groans without realising, a hardening bump in his waistband pressing against your stomach.

“go now!” you say, pushing him off you and bakugou drags a palm down his face.

“fuck,” he breathes, shaking the horny off his body. not the time. “i’ll see you next week. lock the door behind me. all of them.”

“i always do!”

he flickers down your body, one step into the corridor. 

bakugou bites down on his bottom lip, “i love you. can’t wait to see you again.”

you awe, gripping the door and peeking out, “i love you too. i’ll keep you updated. even send you some selfies.”

bakugou nods rapidly, “please. i won’t be able to reply quickly but i will.”

“okay, i’ll see you later.”

he’s about to step away, he swears he is though he looks back at you peeping at him.

“one last kiss then i’m outta your sight,” he promises.

you eagerly pull out from behind the door, “last one! then you have to go!”

“yeah, yeah, yeah—,” he’s rough in the way you love, placing a palm flat on your back to pull you into him. you practically fall into his arms but quickly you’re up on your tiptoes.

it’s a kiss with the energy that it could be the last one you ever have. a hero going off on a mission and leaving his beautiful girl back home. though this isn’t one of his high risk ones, heck he’s going on his own because he’s so capable. yet still the day he returns feels like forever away.

you practically eat each other's faces, unable to stay appropriate down to your last moments together. you twist to the left as he goes right, holding the back of his head so he stays close. he’s not shy to push his cock into you, letting you know all the ways he will miss you.

it’s loud and messy. it’s trying to remember every inch of him so you can recall it in your nights alone. it’s bakugou groping every part of you he can get his hands on so he can mark you as his.

your blonde sucks on your tongue and you don’t mean to palm him but he ruts into you at the contact. you moan as pleasure sparks beneath your skin, the length of him growing cupped in your palm. you’re wondering if there’s time for another session even though he was meant to leave two hours ago.

the kiss only ends because you’re both breathless, using your last breaths to connect with the other. there’s giggles from you and three extra pecks before you force yourself to step away, using your front door as a shield from your riled up boyfriend.

you watch as he adjusts himself, rolls back his shoulders in a stretch and tries to screw his head on straight.

“goodbye now. for real, kats.”

he nods sharply, stretching his jaw side to side. “bye baby. i’m hard now.”

“that’s your own fault for begging for more kisses,” you grin.

he pouts, “how couldn’t i when you look like—,”

“bye katsuki. my tv is calling me!”

“fuck,” he groans, holding onto his bag strap and throwing his head back, “bye princess.”

"say it again, baby."

"i...i-i'm your good puppy, 'm a good girl," you slur around his thick fingers. tears are pouring down your hot cheeks as you sit on enjin's lap with your back against his chest, clothes discarded somewhere on the floor.

the room swirls around you, so dizzy and drunk from the pleasure assaulting your senses. his fingers slide in and out from your cunt, ilicting wet, sloppy noises as he literally scoops slick from your pussy to rub mean circles into your clit.

you feel the need to squirm away, but your body feels so heavy, like you know if you move, you'll get scolded, and...for some reason, the thought makes you whine, hips trying to grind into his hand.

"that's my girl, taking it just like she needs to," enjin coos into your ear, teasingly nipping at it tjust o watch how it flinches away. they're so sensitive, just blowing against it makes you violently squeeze down on his fingers. "pretty puppy just needed her jin to show her how cute she is, yeah?"

you can barely form words, moaning around the digits in your mouth that keep running over your teeth. he's uncaring about the drool that drips down his wrist as he traces over your sharp canines again, the same ones that got you in this position.

he hums, dipping his other fingers back inside your pussy just to hear that relieved moan. "never call yourself bad again, baby, that shit broke my heart. seein' you all sad, all puppy eyes, and, god, the way your ears got all sad and droopy...don't do that to me baby, makes a man weak."

he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, trailing his wet hand down your chest to the soft pudge of your tummy before meanly pressing down right above your pussy.

"i don't want a sad puppy, okay? i want a happy, dumb lil' pup...just like this."

his fingers immediately speed up, curling up to hit that spot that makes you wail his name and dig your hands into him forearms. mm, even your nails feel a bit sharper, the press of them against his skin making him his and grind up into you.

"j-jin, enjin, j-jinnn," is all you can get out, eyes wide as you watch him pop in a third finger, stretching you out to the point your eyes roll back. "o-ohmygodd, mmhhfuck!"

"don't cum, don't cum yet," he pleads into your ear, panting as he works his fingers in and out of you and letting out a deep groan when he sees your creaming on him, a nice frothy ring of it accumulating at the base of his fingers.

but you aren't listening, too empty brained to focus on that. all you can think of in your poor, dumb little brain is 'cum, he's making you feel good, gotta cum, show him 'm good, show him that he makes me feel good/'

"mm-mm, baby, don't," is the warning you get when you try to touch your clit, hands shaking as they creep down lower. "you wanna be a good girl for me, riiiight?"

the nod you give him is aggressive, he can't help but chuckle at little. you're so honest, you aren't as bratty as you usually are. whatever that freaky little scientist injected you with turned you into the cutest little submissive pile of mush for him and he was loving it.

"then let me work, puppy, 'm gonna make you squirt for me, okay? think you can do that? oh, who am i kidding..."

a firm slap to your cunt has you gasping, eyes squeezing shut from holding back your orgasm, before a strangled noise escaped your throat when his fingers pop right back in and get to that same speed that was driving you mad.

"of course you can, you're my good girl."

that has you squeezing him tight, eyes rolling back at the thought. you've done it before, but hearing him say it always makes that heat in your stomach grow hotter. he's such a perv.

but he's been going on for so long, holding back feels like torture...until something starts to spread all throughout your body. a warm that feels like it's burning you, feeling it in the tips of your fingers, and reaching your head.

"aww, theeere she is..."

enjin can feel how you trembling against him, body tensing in his lap as that unbearable pleasure starts to wash over you, your breaking point not too far away. the hazy away look in your eye, the way your mouth hangs open in uncontrollable moans...you look so, so pretty.

but then you start get squirmy and he can already tell you're going to try and run from it, his hand pressing harder on your tummy to keep you still so you can't do anything but take it. after all, he knows just what you need and he's going to give it to you.

"c-cum, 'm gonna cum, jin, too much, c-can't—!"

"shh, yes you can baby, c'mon, don't fight it, give it to me."

you're curling forward as you sob, begging him to wait, to give you a second, but then the hand on your stomach moves to your throat and pulls you back against him, giving a squeeze and his deep voice is practically growling in your ear.

"don't you wanna be good for me? cum, baby, soak my fucking fingers like a good little puppy."

that's all it takes. his little praise, the mean press of his fingers, it's all too much and you explode. you arch against him, practically screaming out his name as you cum, and you cum hard. his fingers are practically forced out of you as you squirt, a wet spray of your fluids shooting out and soaking his hand.

without hesitation, he's working at your clit, swiping it side to side to prolong your orgasm. you look so cute, so fucking adorable like this, trembling against him as you just chant his name over and over again.

"shit, look at you—that's it, keep cumming, baby, daddy's got ya."

tears are pouring down your face as you hiccup, another thick gush pouring out of you and all over his hand and sweatpants, soaking him entirely. you don't realize that you're babbling his name over and over again, chanting 'love you's and 'thank you's over and over again before finally letting out a huff and going limp in his lap.

it's fuzzy, everything feels light and floaty. you can barely process the soft kisses being presses against your face, little murmurs of...something in your ear. whatever it is, your subconscious likes it, because you can feel your tail wagging behind you. he must have turned you around in his lap while you were out of it to hold you to his chest...the realization makes you feel even floatier.

once you finally come up, you can hear it better, enjin's voice no longer sounding like it was underwater.

"such a good girl for me."

"my pretty pup's got some teeth on her."

"see? you're not bad at all, just needed some praise."

"if you would've waited, i would've told you i liked when you bit me."

a little grumble as you hide your face in his chest lets him know your back with him, his hand gently rubbing up and down the skin of your back.

"hi, baby."

"mmpph..."

enjin can't help but chuckle at that. still shy, it seems. he understands, continuing his soothing movements and tracing your spine.

"you feeling alright," he asks, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. he has to "lost you for a second there baby. i didn't do too much, right?"

it takes a moment for you to learn how to speak again, but you just nod. "no, 'm okay. felt good...t-thank you." you let yourself collect your thoughts, still a bit fuzzy brained from that overwhelming orgasm. your still throbbing, and you can't tell if that means you want more or not.

a moment goes by and it's quiet as he continues to...to...

you immediately sit up, face turned into absolute embarrassment and horror as your brain clicks into place what he's doing.

"are you petting me?!"

he just responds with a big grin before trailing his hand down your back. "maybe i am. wanna see something i learned while i was?" he doesn't even let you respond, your mouth opening before he rubs his fingers around the skin where the base of the tail is and you let out the cutest little whine, arching your back to get more pressure before you catch yourself.

"now ain't that cute?"

"e-enjinnn!"

you try to scramble out of his lap, shrieking about what a pervert he is, how mean he is for teasing, but he just cackles, standing up to turn and toss you onto the bed. "yeah, yeah i know, i'm mean, i'm the worse, but..."

he climbs on the bed after you, savoring the way your ears perk up in alert. in a quick motion, his shirt is off, grinning at your eyes immediately snapping to his hypnotic, tattooed skin. you can't stop the whimper that forces its way out of your throat when he crawls over top of you, a hand palming himself through his sweats that you desperately wish he would take off sooner.

٠࣪⭑ the fights don’t just sting—they ache. bc dating an older man felt thrilling until you realized when he pulls away, it feels like the end of the world.

٠࣪⭑ joel goes cold after being sharp—crosses his arms, rubs his temples, mutters under his breath, “should’ve known better…” and it makes your chest cave in.

٠࣪⭑ you try not to cry in front of him, but tears slip anyway, and that’s when his anger usually breaks. he sees you trembling and it shatters him. but he doesn’t know how to apologize cleanly. he’ll sigh, tug his hand through his hair, and mutter, “didn’t mean that, baby. you know i didn’t.”

٠࣪⭑ he shows up in the kitchen later, leaning against the counter, voice soft and rough: “i don’t want nobody else. just you. i just get tired. that’s on me.”

٠࣪⭑ his make-up love language is touch: pulling you into his lap, resting his forehead against yours, thumb stroking your cheek. if you’re still raw, he’ll try humor—teasing you gently, voice warm, “clingy little thing, ain’t ya? can’t say I don’t like it.”

٠࣪⭑ joel’s sharp words haunt him. he hates himself for snapping, so when you crawl into his lap later, his first instinct is contrition. his apologies are mumbled into your skin—against your neck, your chest, your thighs. “’m sorry, baby… should never talk to you that way… my sweet little girl, always so good to me.”

٠࣪⭑ he gets slow and indulgent—stroking your hair back, kissing your jaw, murmuring: “pretty little thing, look at you… can’t stay mad when you look so fuckin’ sexy sittin’ on me.”

٠࣪⭑ joel loves when you ride him after a fight—it makes him feel like you’re choosing him again. he’ll grip your hips tight and groan, “that’s it, baby girl. let it out. ride me like you hate me.” and he praises every whimper—soft chuckles between apologies: “so needy… so good for me. my baby girl.”

٠࣪⭑ if it was a bad fight—the kind where you cried, maybe even stormed out—the make-up sex is feral. joel doesn’t wait for slow touches. he pins you, growls into your ear, “you drive me goddamn insane, y’know that? gonna fuck that attitude right outta you.”

٠࣪⭑ he’s mean with his hands—slapping your ass harder than usual, leaving red handprints, fingers digging in where he knows it’ll sting. he loves when you slap him back across the face during sex—sharp little sting that makes him groan. it’s his favorite foreplay, a secret thrill. “yeah, there’s my girl. hit me harder. you’re so fuckin’ hot when you fight me.”

٠࣪⭑ & yes, he loves choking: his palm on your throat, squeezing harder than he normally would. he loves seeing your eyes roll when he does it. grows, “you like when i’m rough, huh? don’t lie.” the release is messy, sweaty, teeth and nails—both of you panting like you can’t decide if you’re still angry or crazy in love again

٠࣪⭑ but even if it was rough, joel never skips the aftermath. he pulls you tight against him, whispers into your hair: “i love you. don’t wanna fight no more, baby girl. just want you.”

٠࣪⭑ he presses kisses to every red mark he left, soothing with murmured “sorry, sorry, i’m stupid, i want all of you, every little goddamn annoying, sexy thing about you, don’t ever wanna lose you.”

Aerion claimed you roughly, fucking you hard and fast, leaving bruises on your hips and thighs. You tried your very best to learn what he liked; what he wanted you to say and where he wanted you to touch him. Adapting quickly, you grew to desire these fleeting moments with him, as it was all that he would give. Your husband rarely spent any time with you, unless his cock was involved in some way. He was much too busy being a Prince of the Realm; what that entailed you did not exactly know. 

Although your marriage was not one of love and passion, you were content with things. You held your tongue, bit your lip, and clenched your fists rather than ever showing your true emotions. It was much better to be married to a tame dragon than an uncontrollable one. 

One evening, you sit in your chambers alone, working on a sewing project that you began when you were first married. It is a tapestry that combines the sigils of both your house and your husband’s. You did not plan to show it to him when you were finished, seeing as Aerion had expressed absolutely no interest in art, your hobbies, or anything besides himself. But it was an enjoyable way to spend your time, that is until your hand slipped and your thimble rolled off of it and into the fireplace. 

It was your best thimble, aside from the one that you had left in your husband’s chambers a few nights prior. You had forgotten to remove it before he summoned you, and had discretely slipped it onto his desk when entering. Not wanting to sift through soot and ashes in order to retrieve this one, you decided there would be little risk in entering Aerion’s chambers on your own. After all, if he had not yet summoned you then it surely meant that he was still preoccupied with something else. 

You exit the room without bothering to dress into something more proper than your nightgown, seeing as the halls are quite deserted at this hour. The guard stationed outside your door questions you for a moment, but steps aside once you tell him that you are heading to your husband’s chambers. The walk is a short one, and is rather well known to you by this point. There is no one guarding the chambers, which is not too unusual. Without bothering to knock, you enter swiftly. 

To your great shock, your husband is present. He rests in the large porcelain bathtub, his head propped against the edge and his eyes closed. As soon as he hears your disturbance, he reaches for the dagger resting on the table next to him, splashing water all over the floor with his sudden movement. He glares at you with unreasonable anger, tightening his grip on the handle.

“What are you doing?” His voice is not quite a shout, but it shakes you nonetheless. “I did not summon for you.”

“Apologies, my lord husband. I only meant to retrieve something of mine.” You move quickly to his desk, averting your eyes and desperately searching for the thimble. 

“That is not an excuse to disturb me in such a way. I have important things that I do; if I have not requested your presence then it is for a reason.” Aerion has not moved from the tub nor released the dagger.

“Important things such as sleeping in the bathtub?” You intend to mumble this statement under your breath, but Aerion’s ears are sharper than you expected them to be.

“What did you just say? You dare to speak to your prince in such a way?” You meet his gaze, trying hard not to roll your eyes. He had such a passion for dramatics, and it was beginning to irk you. 

“Nothing. I cannot find my thimble, did you move it from here?” You gesture towards the spot on the desk in which you recalled leaving it. Aerion drops the dagger and it clatters to the floor, startling you. 

“I haven’t the slightest idea what a thumble is or where yours went. Leave, immediately.” He motions toward the door with indifference and then turns his head away from you, seemingly done with the entire interaction.

“Thimble. It is called a thimble and I left it on this desk. I will not be leaving until I find it.” You are angry at the way he has dismissed you so callously, and you begin to rummage through the stacks of papers on his desk, knocking over some of his possessions such as his ruby-studded flask and sculpted dragon. 

“You dare to enter my chambers without permission, and now you dare to destroy my things in a fit of rage?” 

“Enough with the dramatics, Aerion. I have not destroyed anything! Perhaps if you were not so uncaring and disorganized then my thimble would not have gone missing!” You are shouting at him now. It is ridiculous and you are aware; a sewing instrument should not be causing you such duress. But you have become emotional over the situation, and your husband’s cruel words only make you more upset. 

“Once again, you forget your place. You ought to shut up now, before you really make me angry.” Your husband’s empty threat misses its mark as you grab for his stupid dragon figurine and throw it angrily in his direction

You had meant for it to land on the floor, but instead it flies over his head, missing him by mere inches. It clatters against the wall with a loud smack, but falls to the floor unbroken. Aerion’s first reaction is anger; you see the rage flash across his face. 

“Well. That was certainly a bold decision, wife.” His voice is steady as his eyes study you, watching for your next move as a predator does his prey. “You wish to play with fire, do you?” You take a pause before you speak, holding his gaze and refusing to look away.

“That was unwise of me. I have acted without thought; perhaps you are beginning to rub off on me.” You dare to taunt him again, a blaze of fire simmering beneath your blood. You expected this to push him over the edge and send him into an absolute rage, but instead he simply raises a brow.

“Pick it up and bring it to me,” he commands you. You decide to obey, your curiosity as to what he intends overcoming your initial desire to continue taunting him, and slowly walk across the room. His eyes follow you carefully, taking in every stride. You kneel down and retrieve the sculpture, flipping it over to observe the intricately carved wings. The piece was certainly expensive and you would wager that the imagery of a dragon invoked strong emotion in a man who believed himself to be one. 

You follow his instructions and approach the bathtub. His nakedness is not a strange sight, but this somehow feels much more intimate than it does when he is bedding you. Aerion’s chest is defined, his stomach toned, and his arm muscles bulging. The water was a milky color, emitting steam that whisped and curled. 

“You dare to disrespect a dragon in such a way? A beast so large it could trample you in one step, breath so hot it would char your bones in a second. Do you think yourself worthy of such an opponent?”

“You are supposed to be my husband, not my foe,” you tell him earnestly. He laughs, a display of emotion that confuses you, as it is such a sharp contrast to his domineering posture.

“I speak of the dragon that you have so recklessly thrown across my chambers. Balerion, the formidable beast that The Conqueror rode into battle, is the dragon that you have challenged.” He is ridiculous, and you wonder for a moment if he truly believes the carving in your hand somehow possesses the spirit of a long-dead dragon. Aerion is testing you, and you are unsure of how to pass his test, or if you even want to.

“I am sorry that I threw your dragon. It was undignified and disrespectful for me to do such a thing. But you ought not to act so angrily towards me.” If someone had told you a year ago that this was the conversation you would be having in your husband’s chambers, you would have laughed uncontrollably. 

Aerion’s next move comes as a surprise, as he jolts his hand forward and grabs you by the arm, pulling you down into a kneeling position. The water that splashes over you is burning hot, much unlike that of the warm baths that you prefer to take. The sculpture still remains clutched in your hand.

“You ought to atone for what you have done, wife.” His violet eyes pierce into yours, burning intensely. 

“And how might I do that, husband? It seems you wish for me to challenge you rather than Balerion.” You reveal your clenched fist to him, offering up the sculpture. He glances down at it for a moment, then back towards you.

“You have grown bold. Perhaps there is a dragon growing inside of you.” His suggestion makes your cheeks redden, as you assume he references a child. Your last bleed was two weeks ago, too early for you to know. 

“I have grown tired of being disrespected,” you snarl at him. “You act as if I do not exist unless you wish to fuck me.” He laughs coldly, tightening his grip on your arm.

“And how would you wish me to act? Like a love-smitten fool, a man who has been subdued by his wife? No, that is not the way of the dragon. You belong to me, not the other way around.” His words should hurt you, but they instead elicit a deeper anger. 

“If you are not truly mine, then I am not truly yours. If only my father had higher aims, then mayhaps he would have sought to marry me to one of Baelor’s sons. I would gladly take the charming heir or even the drunken fool over the likes of you.” In a quick flash, his hand moves towards your head. You expect for him to strike you, but instead his fingers curl around your neck. He presses down hard enough to stifle your speech but not enough to entirely constrict your airways. His hand burns you, and you are unsure if it is because of the temperature of his bath or the dragon blood that he claims to run through his veins.

“You want more of me, wife? Then cease this act of a foolish little girl and take it. Take what is yours with fire and blood.” The next movement he makes is even more surprising, he pulls your head towards his and meets your lips with a rough kiss. 

You are not used to being kissed by him; you could count on one hand the number of times that it has happened, always by your doing. The first time it had been when you stood before the Septon on your wedding day, the rest had been an attempt to comfort yourself when he fucked you too savagley. He had tolerated these kisses, not pulling away but not contributing in any way. This kiss was the first one that had any element of passion.

And passionate it was, his hand remained clasping at your neck as his tongue forced entry into your mouth. You released the dragon in your fist, sending it clattering to the ground and choosing instead to rake your hand through his hair, tugging harshly on the blonde strands. He let out a low groan as you did so and bit down on your lip. Aerion breaks away from the kiss, smiling with furious eyes.

“Have I finally elicited the fire within your veins?” You respond by climbing over the edge of the tub, submerging yourself in the burning water as you straddle him. Your nightgown is soaked as you kiss him once again, positioning your hands to tightly grip his shoulders. His hands find their way to your hips, holding them harshly in a way that you are certain will leave you bruised. Aerion’s mouth begins to move down your neck, biting more so than kissing, but it leaves you gasping all the same. You grind yourself against him and feel his hardening cock, separated from you only by a single layer of clinging fabric.

He is decidedly annoyed by said fabric, as he begins to pull on it, hard. Unable to achieve much, he momentarily pushes you aside to reach out of the tub for his dagger. The sharp blade is pointed at your chest, and you are fearful for a moment that he means to cut you. But he instead slashes through your nightgown and peels off the pieces. 

“The water has grown cold. Get out,” he commands, pulling your hips upwards in order to lift you from him. The water is anything but cold; your skin feels as if it is burning. But you do not complain and quickly clamber out from the tub. Aerion is only a second behind you, pushing you up against the nearest wall the moment he is standing. 

His teeth pull at your bottom lip while you kiss, one of his legs pressing in between yours. The two of you are both soaking wet and the water from the tub has been splashed all over the floor. Normally you would be shivering in such a condition, but Aerion’s skin is so warm against yours. 

You break away from his lips, wanting to explore his neck with your mouth. Aerion allows this for a moment, before your lips graze against a particular spot right below his ear that makes him shiver. He reacts quickly, tugging on your hair to pull your head away, leaving you gazing up at him. 

“You don’t like that?” You are smirking, because you know that he does. “Afraid that too much kissing will turn you into a love-smitten fool?” You see his brow furrow for a split second before you are spun by your hips and turned to face the wall, your hands slamming up against it to steady yourself. One of his hands snakes around your neck as the other one reaches between your thighs. Two fingers caress the outside of your folds, making you gasp. You grab at his hand and try to pull it off of you, wanting to deny him this right of conquest. But he slaps your prying hand away and tightens his grip on your neck.

“Firey once again, wife. Who knew that the pathetic little thing who so quickly spreads her legs for me every night would dare to push back? You’re so wet for me already.” This time, his fingers enter you swiftly and begin to thrust in and out at a brutal pace. “Does fighting with me excite you?”

“Stop talking,” you snarl at him, which quickly gives way to a moan as he hits a particularly sensitive spot deep inside of you. This makes him laugh, the sound echoing through the chambers. “What a little slut. Perhaps I ought to provoke you more often, if this is what it leads to.” He pulls you closer to him, your back arching against his chest as he continues fucking you with his fingers. Aerion has never done this to you before, but you welcome the pleasure that it brings you. His thumb presses against your clit, causing a burst of sensation that has you moaning loudly. 

“Do you think that either of Baelor’s sons could make you feel this way? Make you writhe and moan on their fingers like you are right now?” You bite down on your lip in an attempt to stifle the noises that threaten to slip out, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a response. Aerion does not like this, and he responds by biting down on your neck, hard. 

“Fuck, Aerion!” He aims lower this time, biting against your collarbone. The pain is a shock, but you are still overwhelmed by the sensation of his fingers inside of you.

“That is not an answer,” he warns you. He grabs your hair with his free hand, weaving his fingers through it and yanking it by the roots. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, please, please don’t stop!” You shake your head desperately as your legs begin to clench and pleasure swirls in your stomach. 

“Hmm. Begging is good, I suppose, but not quite what I was seeking.” You are astounded by the way he continues to taunt you, how he can manage to string together more than a few words at a time. You certainly can not, not in the current state that he has put you in.

Without warning, he slips his fingers out of you. You practically scream at the loss of contact. Aerion’s teeth tug at the skin of your neck and you hear him growl against you.

“Get on the bed.” It sounds more like a threat than a suggestion, but your stomach still burns with the flame that he has stoked.

“Make me,” you challenge. Aerion responds by grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you upwards, throwing you over his shoulders in one swift movement. Before you can even dare to say another word, he has tossed you onto the bed, positioning you to lie-face down. He pulls your hips upwards to rest against his, and enters you quickly. The intrusion is sudden and should make you cry out in pain, but your walls offer no resistance. Aerion pounds into you, hard and fast, not allowing you to do anything other than whimper and whine and bury your face in the pillow.

“Anything else you wish to say, wife? Any more bold words or taunts for your dragon?” You shake your head and bite down on the pillow to stifle a moan. He has taken you in this position before, but it has never felt as good as it does right now. Your entire body is on fire and your cunt clenches desperately, needing more of him. 

“Please,” you moan, unsure of what exactly you are begging for. “I need more, please Aerion.” He responds by reaching underneath your bodies, wrapping his thick arm around your torso to lift you up towards him. His fingers find their way to your hair, yanking at your roots harshly as he bites down on your neck once again. “Do you still stand by your earlier statement? Do you think another man could fuck you in the way that I do? Bring you pleasure in the way that I have?” The new position allows him to hit a spot even deeper inside of you, causing you to all but scream.

“No, no one else! Just you Aerion, just you!” You tell him what he wants to hear, and he rewards you by bringing two fingers to your mouth.

“Spit on them,” he demands, and you do. His fingers find your clit, rubbing rough circles that make you see stars. The spit was rather unnecessary, as you are already so wet for him. You feel pleasure begin to coil in your stomach once again, threatening to burst in a violent explosion. 

“Please, Aerion! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He continues rutting into you at a brutal pace as you climax, clenching around his cock as pleasure fills your veins. You scream and moan and curse his name, feeling as if something wild has been unleashed from within you. 

“I’m going to fuck you over and over again, until your belly is swollen with the dragon’s seed.” His words are dark and lush against your ear, a threat and a promise. “You belong to me.” Aerion pushes you down into the bed again, his ministrations becoming tortuous and the pleasure grows too much for you to handle. One hand holds your hips in place as the other covers your mouth, muffling the noises that you are unable to contain. You feel his fingernails digging into your skin so hard that they likely could be drawing blood as his thrusts begin to stutter. Aerion groans, loudly, as you feel his stomach contract as his cock twitches, filling you with his seed. 

He continues to rut into you, unwilling to disconnect his body from yours. Tears threaten to flood your cheeks; the sensation is too much and you try your best to squirm away from him.

“My silly little wife. You should not have started something that you are unable to finish.” He drags his cock out of you slowly, not wanting his seed to leak out. “You have enticed a dragon, and now he has grown restless.”

indulger!katsuki who cannot handle a single pout from you, especially when you’re staring at something that costs more than a mid-sized sedan.

you both stood in the center of a glittering ginza boutique, the air smelling of expensive lilies and cold air conditioning. you didn’t say a word; you simply stopped in front of a gold necklace with a pear-cut diamond that caught the light in a way that made your eyes widen.

you looked at the jewel, then slowly shifted your gaze to katsuki, tilting your head with a small, hopeful shimmer in your eyes.

katsuki stopped dead in his tracks, his shoulders tensing under his your gaze. “don't even start with that look,” he barked, though his eyes didn't leave your face.

“i didn't say anything, katsuki.” you chuckled.

“you're saying it with your damn eyes! you're practically screaming 'buy me this overpriced rock' without opening your mouth! it's a piece of carbon, you greedy brat! do you have any idea how many zeros are on that price tag?” katsuki had his hands in his hips, looking down at you like he was your mom scolding you.

“i didn’t even ask for it, baby. just looking… it’s pretty, that’s all,”you let out a tiny, theatrical sigh and began to turn away, your shoulders slumping just a fraction.

“tch! stop it! get back here!" he grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but careful, and yanked you back toward the glass case. he slammed a hand onto the counter, making the sales clerk jump nearly a foot in the air. “wrap that one up! now! and put it in the fancy box so she doesn't complain that it looks cheap!”

“of course, sir! right away!” as the clerk hurried to package the necklace.

katsuki leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. “you're a manipulative menace. a spoiled, pampered little menace. you think you can just look at me and i'll cave? you think i'm some kind of pushover?”

you beamed, leaning into his chest. “yes!”

“damn right i am! for you i am! now let's get out of here before you decide you want the matching earrings too!”

“ooh! now that you mention it…”

indulger!katsuki who believes that “out of stock” is merely a suggestion and that rules don't apply when you want something.

you were in a high-end streetwear boutique, your eyes locked on a limited-edition cropped leather jacket. it was the only one in your size, and it was perched precariously on a headless mannequin in the window. the store manager had already told you three times that display items were not for sale.

you looked at the jacket, then at your boyfriend, your lower lip trembling just a bit. “let’s just go. he said i can't have it,” you whispered, looking devastated.

katsuki’s eyes snapped to the mannequin. he looked at the manager, who was sweating profusely, and then back to you. a slow, dangerous grin spread across his face. “what do you mean it's not for sale?”

“sir, it's the display model! it's meant to stay on the mannequin for the aesthetic of the window—”

“i don't give really a damn about the bullshit of your window. isn’t a store like this supposed to be taking money?! tch,”katsuki stormed forward, his heavy boots thudding against the polished floor. in one fluid, violent motion, he reached out and gripped the collar of the jacket. with a loud rip of plastic fasteners and a crash of the mannequin’s arm snapping off, he tore the garment right off the plastic form. he didn't even wait for the manager to react before he tossed the jacket over your shoulders. “there. now it's yours. stop looking like a kicked puppy.”

“katsuki! you can't just—”

“i just did! now, you,” he pointed a finger at the trembling manager, “ring this up. now. or i'll blow the front door off your hinges and pay for it in pieces.”

you giggled, hugging the leather to your chest. “you're so aggressive. aren’t you supposed to be a hero…? that wasn’t heroic at all.”

“did i steal it?! no, i didn’t. now shut up and pay for the damn thing with my card, you brat.”

indulger!katsuki who will cross entire prefectures just to satisfy a midnight craving because he can't stand the thought of you being unhappy.

it was 1:00 am on a tuesday. katsuki had just finished a grueling sixteen-hour shift dealing with a villain breakout in the city center. he was covered in soot, his muscles aching, and he had just collapsed onto the sofa. you crawled into his lap, rubbing your cheek against his chest. “kats baby... i really want that strawberry shortcake from that one bakery in chiba.”

he groaned, the sound vibrating through his ribs. “are you kidding me? chiba? that's an hour's drive! go to sleep!”

“but the cream is so light... and they use those organic strawberries... i can almost taste it.” you practically whined as you nuzzled closer to him like an annoying cat.

your boyfriend closed his eyes, praying for strength. he stayed silent for a full minute, his chest heaving. then, he let out a loud, frustrated scream and sat up abruptly, nearly dumping you off his lap. “god damn it! why are you like this? why can't you just want a normal snack from the convenience store?”

“because i'm your pretty baby?”

he glared at you, his vermillion eyes narrowing, but the heat in them wasn't anger. oh, no it wasn’t. it was absolute, unconditional devotion. no matter how hard he glared, you had him wrapped around your pretty manicured fingers that he also payed for.

katsuki stood up and grabbed his keys from the counter. “get in the car. if we get there and they're sold out, i'm leaving you on the sidewalk.”

“you love me too much for that.”

“tch. keep talking and i'll buy you a whole damn bakery and make you work there just so i never have to drive to chiba at midnight again!”

indulger!katsuki who expresses his love through a constant stream of “shut up” and “you're annoying,” while simultaneously funding your entire lavish lifestyle.

you were sitting on the bed, surrounded by a mountain of shopping bags from your latest spree. you were trying on a pair of towering gold heels that were probably impractical for any one human being to walk in.

katsuki walked into the room, stopping to stare at the chaos. “what the hell is all this? did you rob a bank while i was at the agency?”

“they were on sale!” you beamed up at him giddily as if that answered his question.

“on sale? you bought six pairs of the same shoe in different colors! you're a damn shopaholic is what you are!” katsuki had his hands on his hips as if he was your mom scolding you.

you stood up, wobbling slightly in the gold heels, and walked toward him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “but look how they make my legs look, kats.”

he looked down at your legs, then back up at your face. his expression shifted from irritation to a hunger that made your stomach flip. he gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, his palms warm through your clothes. “tch. your legs always look good. you don't need overly expensive gold shoes to make me want to rip your clothes off.”

“are you saying you don't like them?” you pouted at him.

“i'm saying i find it stupid how much money you spend on things that just make me want to keep you in the bedroom all day. now get those damn things off and c’mere."

indulger!katsuki who views your shopping addiction as a challenge to his bank account, and he loves winning. you once mentioned, in passing, that you liked a certain vintage watch that was being auctioned off, a piece that was practically unobtainable.

you didn't expect him to get it; you just liked the idea of it.

two weeks later, katsuki tosses a small, velvet box onto your lap while you're eating breakfast. “here. stop thinking about it. it’s starting to annoying me.”

you open the box to find the watch, its gold face gleaming. you gasp, looking at the price estimate you'd seen online. “katsuki bakugo! this cost... this is insane! why would you do this?”

“hah! because i can!” he yells, though there's a smirk playing on his lips. “because i'm the best, and my woman should have the best. i don't want you looking at some auction site like some extra. i want you to look at your wrist and remember that i'm the one who got it for you.” he pulls you into his lap, his arms locking around you. “i'll buy the whole damn auction house if it means you'll stop daydreaming and focus on me. you get it? everything you want is yours, as long as you remember who the hell provides it.”

you weren’t entirely sure what his deal was… he either loved you so much that he was willing to throw money at everything, he actually finds it annoying when you talk about stuff you want, or he loves flexing his hard-earned money.

it was all the above.

indulger!katsuki who treats every anniversary, birthday, holiday, or “just because” day as a competition to see how much he can possibly spoil you.

for your anniversary, he didn't just get you a gift; he rented out an entire rooftop garden in tokyo, filled it with your favorite flowers, and had a five-course meal prepared by a michelin-star chef after he went on a full-scale rant on how stupid it is to pull cliché “bullshit” like they do in the movies.

as you looked around the breathtaking setup, your eyes glistening with tears, he stood beside you, looking uncomfortable in a tailored black suit that hugged his broad shoulders. “stop crying, brat. it's just a dinner.”

“it's not just a dinner, kats! it's beautiful!”

“tch. it's whatever. i just didn't want you complaining that i didn't do enough this year." he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box. inside was a ring—not like the diamond one he'd bought you months ago, but a rare, deep red ruby that matched the color of his eyes.

“i saw this and thought it looked like something a greedy brat would want.” katsuki shrugged as if he was talking about the specials on the menu.

“katsuki...”

“don't get all mushy on me. just put the damn ring on so we can eat before the food gets cold. and don't think this means you can buy a new car next week.” he pointed a stern finger at you.

you laughed, sliding the ring onto your finger and throwing your arms around his neck. “i was thinking a yacht.”

your boyfriend froze, his eyes widening. “a yacht? who the hell wants a boat?!”

“a pretty one! with gold trim!”

katsuki sighed, but he was already pulling you closer, his lips finding yours in a kiss that tasted of promise and absolute, unwavering devotion. “fine. but if we get a yacht, i'm the captain. and you're just the pampered passenger who looks pretty.”

“deal.” you nodded your head eagerly.

“good because your also a terrible driver and i have no plans being the jack to your rose when we die in sea.”

“asshole! fucking forget it then!”

indulger!katsuki who can't maintain a professional demeanor when you decide you miss him too much to let him work.

you were at home, lounging in one of his oversized shirts, feeling particularly needy. you knew he was in the middle of a high-stakes strategy meeting with the top ten heroes. out of impulse, you sent him a message:

i'm so bored and the bed feels too big without you.

five minutes later, your phone buzzed.

stop sending me shit while i'm working, brat.

you replied: i might just go buy another little lingerie set to pass the time. i saw a gorgeous red set… oh, did i mention i’m wearing a black set rn

you quickly followed it up by sending him a single photo: a selfie of you biting your lip, nothing on but a black lace teddy set, sitting prettily in the bed.

his response was almost instantaneous it made you giggle.

stay. put.

another ten minutes passed before the front door slammed open with such force the windows rattled. katsuki stormed into the bedroom, still in his full hero gear, his arm bracers were removed and thrown on the couch in a blink of an eye. he looked absolutely livid, his chest heaving. “who the hell do you think you are, interrupting my meeting with a photo of you dressed like that?"

“i missed you,” you whispered, sliding off the bed and walking toward him.

“you're a menace. i had edgeshot staring at my phone screen for three seconds because i reacted too loud! i'm supposed to be a professional!”

you wrapped your arms around his waist, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “are you going to go back, dynamight?”

katsuki looked down at you, his gaze darkening as he felt your warmth against him. he reached up, gripping your chin and tilting your head back. “not a chance in hell. now, since you wanted my attention so badly, you're going to spend the rest of the afternoon making up for the fact that i had to walk out of a very important meeting.”

“how?”

“shut up. i'll show you.”

indulger!katsuki who loves the way you beg, not just for things, but for him, and he takes his time making sure you earn every single touch.

he pulled back, his eyes scanning your flushed face, a smirk playing on his lips. he didn't move to take off the rest of your clothes; instead, he just watched you squirm beneath him, your breath coming in short, jagged gasps. “what's the matter? you were so bold over text. where's all that energy now?”

“please... kats, please.” you squirmed.

“please what? be specific. i don't do vague requests.” your smug boyfriend tutted.

you arched your back, your fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders. “i want you... i want you inside me. please.”

katsuki chuckled, a dark, rough sound. he shifted his weight, his hand sliding down to touch you, his fingers finding you already drenched and aching. he didn't push inside; he just teased the entrance, circling the sensitive peak of your center with agonizing movements. “tch, you're so impatient. you think because i get you whatever you want, you get the reward immediately? no. you're going to wait until i decide you've begged enough.”

“fuck—i'll do anything! just... please, baby!”

“anything? then tell me, brat. tell me how much you love being taken care off by me. tell me how much you love that i'm the only one who can handle you. the only one who is capable of giving you everything and anything you want.”

“i love it... i love you... i love that you're mine—hah… only mine,”

katsuki didn't wait another second. he ripped the loose shirt you were wearing upward, exposing you completely, and drove into you in one powerful thrust.

“oh! f-ffuuuck…” you screamed, the sound muffled by his mouth as he crashed his lips against yours, swallowing your cry. he moved with a violent, rhythmic intensity, his body a storm of heat and muscle, driving you deeper and deeper into the mattress.

indulger!katsuki who is surprisingly attentive during sex, ensuring that while he is dominant, your pleasure is the absolute priority. despite the aggression of his movements, his eyes never left yours. he watched every flicker of pleasure, every curl of your toes, every time your eyes rolled back in your head.

“look at me,” katsuki commanded, his voice strained.

“i'm... i'm looking!” you mewled as you fought your head from tilting backwards.

“tell me how it feels. tell me how i feel—ffuuuck, yeah, baby. take it just like that—inside you.” katsuki pounded you into the mattress, his knees bent as his hips moved relentlessly.

“it's perfect... you're... oh god, katsuki!” your nails digging into his back, marking him.

katsuki gritted his teeth, his pace increasing, his palms sparking slightly against the sheets, the scent of sweat and the burnt fabric filling the room. he reached down, his thumb finding your clit, the exact spot that sent you over the edge, adding a level of stimulation that made your entire body convulse.

“that's it... take it all, my greedy baby. take everything i give you.”

as you peaked, your voice breaking in a long, shuddering moan, he followed you, his body stiffening as he let out a low, primal roar, filling you completely. he collapsed against you, his breath coming in heavy heaves, his heart hammering against your chest like a trapped bird.

indulger!katsuki who becomes an insatiable force of nature when you are ovulating, turning your heightened desire into a marathon of pleasure that leaves both of you completely spent. and in his opinion, as much as he thinks you’re the best thing to ever exist, this version of you might take the cake.

you had told him you were in your peak window, and the moment the words left your lips, the air in the room had shifted. katsuki didn't just become more affectionate; he became obsessed.

“i can smell it on you,” he whispered, his voice a dark, predatory hum as he backed you against the bedroom wall. “you smell like you are wet f’me already.”

“i am,” you whimpered, your legs already shaking. “i can't stop thinking about you, baby. i want you inside me. now please.”

katsuki didn't need to be told twice. he ripped your clothes off, his movements frantic yet precise. he lifted you up, your legs locking around his waist. it didn’t take long before he drove himself into you with a force that made the wall rattle. “you are so wet,” he groaned, the sound of his cock sliding into your drenched pussy creating a loud, squelching noise that echoed in the room. “you are practically dripping for me.”

he fucked you for hours, moving you from the wall to the bed, then to the floor, and back again. every time you thought he was finished, every time he came in a loud, shaking burst of pleasure, he would look at you, at your flushed skin, your swollen lips, your pleading eyes, and he would harden again.

“more,” you sobbed, clutching his shoulders. “please, suki, more.”

“fucking hell. you are a bottomless pit, katsuki panted, his sweat dripping onto your chest. “i can't believe how much you can take. it is unbelievable.”

he explored every inch of you, his tongue tracing the line of your thighs, his fingers stretching you open before plunging back inside. he was rough and demanding, his voice a constant stream of praise and possession. “yes, take it all,” he commanded, his hips slamming into yours with a rhythmic thud. “you want this, don't you? you want your man to fill you up until you can't take another drop.”

“yes, k-kats! ngghh… oh, fuck, baby. harder, harder—yeah…”

by the time you were finally satiated, katsuki collapsed beside you, the sun was beginning to peak through the curtains. you were both covered in a mixture of sweat, saliva, and cum, your bodies entwined in a tangle of exhaustion.

“you are a monster,” he whispered, kissing your forehead, his voice sounding completely wrecked. “my beautiful, greedy little monster.”

you giggled, tracing patterns on his chest, “you tired? what happened, dynamight? i thought you were the best of the best.”

“i am going to spend the rest of the day making sure you stay this exhausted if you keep talking like that.”

indulger!katsuki who is unexpectedly devoted to your physical comfort in the aftermath of your endless love making, turning into a protective heater that refuses to let you go.

after a particularly grueling session where he's left you spent and breathless, he doesn't just roll over and sleep. he carries you into the oversized marble shower, the water steaming and hot. “stop shivering, you idiot. i've got you.”

“it’s not like i’m doing it on purpose,” you retorted, splashing him on the face with water which earned you a glare.

katsuki washes you with a slow, methodical care, his large hands scrubbing your skin with a luxury soap he bought specifically because you liked the scent of vanilla and sandalwood. he doesn't yell now; his voice is a low, sleepy murmur. “you're so damn small compared to me,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. “how the hell do you fit all that greed into one person?”

“i'm not greedy,” you murmur, leaning back into his chest.

“you're the greediest person i've ever met. and the worst part is, i can't stop giving you everything. you've got me wrapped around your finger, and you know it.”

he wraps you in a towel that's far too big for you, effectively swallowing you in plush fabric, and carries you back to bed, tucking you in as if you were something fragile that might break if he didn't hold you just right.

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