Mischeviously Slytherin

“Come on, Eijiro. You can hit him harder than that!” The ash blond shouted at the kid with the black hair and scar.

The boy put his hands together and looked down. “Sorry Katsuki, but I don’t want to hurt Denki.”

“Yah, Kacchan!” The yellow haired small boy shouted, standing behind the other boy with black hair and had a straight tooth smile. “I don't want to get hit. Look at me, I’m tiny.” He hid more of his body as he glared.

He’s false bravado made you giggle, causing attention to yourself.

“Oi!” The ash blond child, Kacchan you guessed, stomped over to you. “Who are you! Why are you spying on us!” He shouted at you.

You weren’t used to people shouting at you other than your older siblings. You didn’t tolerate it from others. Not liking it at all, you frowned. “I am princess Y/N! My daddy is the king and I can do whatever I want.”

Bakugou glared at you. He didn’t like how high you placed yourself. How higher you placed yourself above him. He pointed a finger at you. “You little brat!” Before he could do something he regretted, Kirishima quickly wrapped his arms around him.

He held the angry blond in his arms as he offered you a smile. It was odd watching them, being the same age, and yet Kirishima was restraining him pretty well. “Sorry about him, your highness.” He said, offering you a kind smile. Broad, sharp teeth and kind. You couldn’t help but soften at the look of him.

“Well…” You looked away. “It’s fine for now. But the next time he does it, I’m telling daddy.”

“You’re a princess?” Mina asked as she approached you bouncing on her heels in excitement. “That’s so cool. You look like the King so it must be true.” She said as she looked between you and her friends.

“Yah, she should call her precious daddy!” Bakugou mocked as he tilted his head side to side. “You wouldn’t be able to handle me by yourself, princess. You’re weak.”

“No, I’m not!” You stomped your foot and glared back at him.

Sero quickly moved to stand next to Bakugou. “Uh, Katsuki.” he said with a nervous smile.“Maybe you should calm down.” He offered.

Bakugou kept his eyes on you. “Never!” He stuck his tongue out at you childishly. “Weak little brat!” He teased you. “Can’t do anything without daddy’s help. Poor little princes-”

A slap went through the area. You stood with an angry face as you looked down at him. Clutching his plush cheek was Bakugou. His face was set into one of pure surprise. He didn’t expect you to hit him, let alone the slap to sting. The other children were silent, not fully believing that it actually happened.

“Keep quiet you… you… you dog!” You shouted at him angry.

Denki retreated back as he grew nervous at how quiet Bakugou was being. “Oh no. I don’t think you should have done that, princess.” Bakugou’s fists balled up as he faced you again. His eyes white with rage as he seethed in anger. “You’re gonna regret that princess.”

That’s when you did the smartest thing you did all day.

You ran.

You ran, not in fear but giggling for the most part. The angry blond throwing retorts and angry growls at you as you ran through the streets. People watched and wondered why you were running away from a string of other children all following one another. Bakugou was behind you trying to catch you. Kirishima was behind Bakugou trying to calm him down.

Mina was behind Kirishima wanting to see what would happen next. Sero was following Mina for the same reason. Denki followed because he didn’t want to be left alone for the most part. You ran straight into the main hall, giggling and squealing trying to get away from Bakugou. Kirishima and Bakugou both followed you into the main hall but Mina, Sero and Denki all stopped. In the main hall was where all the leaders were meeting. Your giggling, Bakugou’s shouting and Kirishima’s apologise were what disturbed the meeting.

You quickly ran over to your father and hid by his side. “Daddy save me!”

“Come here and fight me, princess!” Bakugou shouted in front of all the adults. Including his mother and his Jarl, Kirishima’s father, Takeo Kirishima. The two adults stood horrified as their two sons stood in front of the royal family.

Kirishima quickly stood in front of his best friend and stopped him from approaching you any further. He forced the blond down on his knees alongside him. They were both on one knee in front of you and your family. “I’m deeply sorry for the disturbance your majesty. We were just playing outside when things got out of hand.” He apologised profusely. He knew how much his father took pride in these meetings so he knew what was best was to apologise.

“SHE SLAPPED ME!” Bakugou shouted looking back up at you with a glare. Kirishima tugged on his friend’s ear harshly. “OW!”

“Forgive us.” Kirishima stated his head still down in respect.

All the adults were very amused at the whole situation. Especially your parents. Your mother laughed but looked down at the two young boys fondly. “What are your names?”

“Eijiro Kirishima, your majesty.” Kirishima answered immediately. “Son of the great Jarl Takeo Kirishima. And this-” He kept Bakugou’s head down with a firm grip that was clearly not relanting despite the blond's struggles. “Is Katsuki Bakugou, son of Mitsuki Bakugou.” He answered for his grumbling friend.

Your father turned to look up at the two embarrassed parents. Mitsuki was seething at her son for interrupting the meeting and showing little respect to royalty. Takeo, however, was rather impressed with his son’s level-headedness in this situation. Your father turned to look at you, who had crawled into his lap. You sat with your arms folded and a huff. “Daughter.”

You turned to your father innocently. “Yes, daddy?” You asked.

“Did you slap Katsuki?” He asked you.

You hesitated. You pouted. “He was being mean to me, daddy.” You pointed down at the two boys.

The king turned to Bakugou who had calmed down a bit more. “Katsuki.”

“Huh?” Bakugou asked as he looked up. He was roughly nudged in the ribs by Kirishima making him wince. “I mean… Yes, m’lord.” He corrected himself with a mumble. That made the other Jarls laugh. Mitsuki dragged her hands down her face as she tried not to burn with anger at her child’s show of no manners.

“Were you bested by my daughter?”

Bakugou huffed. “No, she ran away and I-”

“If a doe runs away from the wolves does that not mean that the doe has won?” Your father asked as he raised an eyebrow down at the blond child.

Bakugou opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out. He crossed his arms and looked away. “Tsk.” He scowled. “One day I’ll be a strong warrior and no stupid doe will out best me!” He loudly proclaimed. “Especially you princess!”

Your mother laughed at the child's ambition. “I don’t doubt that, if you are anything like your mother.” She turned to Kirishima. “Little Eijiro. What do you think of the blond's proclamation? You are to be a future Jarl if all goes right.”

Kirishima was only silent for a moment. “He’s the best boy in my village, your majesty.” He said making Bakugou’s cheeks burn a slight pink but he still frowned. He nodded his head in agreement. “He’s fast, skilled and has great ambition. I don’t doubt what he says. I want him to be my second in command, like my father has Aunt Mitsuki as his.”

Your mother nodded her head as she looked up to Takeo. “Your son has a great eye, Takeo. If Thor will have it, he just might make a strong leader one day, especially if he can deal with a Bakugou.”

After the meeting had finished, with no more disturbances, both Jarl Takeo and Mitsuki both apologised to your family. No one minded. Bakugou, however, was now determined to try and beat you at something, dragging Kirishima along with him. There were many visits from the Bakugous and Kirishimas since that day. Whenever they were in your village with their parents you always spent time with them.

Whether it was watching them fight, or running through the surrounding woods with them in a game of tag. Where you were, they were. The three of you, even though you only saw each other every few months or so, you were all close. Everyone could see it. Some even wondered at your young age, who you would choose. The Jarl’s son or the fierce warrior?

You could never choose. Never split them apart. They were great together as is.

Then one day, when you were twelve, you woke up and there was blood everywhere. Everywhere means your sheets. You had screamed loud enough for Valhalla to hear you. You thought you were dying. You felt like it too. Your servants had run into the room you shared with your older sister. But next thing you know, no one was listening to the girl who was practically crying her eyes out. Everyone was celebrating. For what reason you hadn’t known till your mother and sister sat you down.

You weren’t a girl anymore to them.

You had to take your princess studies more seriously now. Your sister took pity on you, having had experienced what you were going to be put through a two years before. Suddenly she seemed less annoying and more like your only refuge.

So while the village celebrated and you were sulking around, you met Kirishima and Bakugou one last time.

You met them in the woods, your secret place by a river. The two of them stood in front of you who looked like you were anything but happy. Of course you couldn’t be. Not with all you had learnt today. The moon was high in the sky and the river was still. The dark area was peaceful other than the growing tension between the three of you.

“We can’t hang out anymore.” You let out finally and quietly.

Bakugou was the first to react like always. “HUH!” He shouted rather loudly. “Why not?” He asked as he stepped closer.

Kirishima stopped him and shot him a look to calm down. The blond took a breath and focused back on you. Kirishima had his black hair tied back in a small ponytail, sort of spikey at the end that reminded you of Bakugou’s hair. The boy’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is it because of today?” He asked.

The both of them weren’t entirely sure why today was a big deal. Nor why everyone was acting like it was a god’s birthday but it seemed important enough and that it had to do with you. Takeo had promised to explain to his son and his son’s best friend later when they went back home. It didn’t stop them from enjoying the festivities though. They did enjoy it until they noticed you weren’t.

You nodded your head as you held your elbows. You shrunk your shoulders as you furrowed your eyebrows. You looked off to the side. The cool night air blew making your long dress move with you. “I… I’m not a little girl anymore. I can’t play with you guys. I need to take being a princess and a woman of this village seriously.” You recited what your mother’s handmaiden had told you. “Besides, you guys will have to train to become leaders and warriors. You won’t have time for me for the next few years.”

The boys winced as they knew you were telling the truth. They would have to go to the trials and earn their place among men. Earn their place as warriors and protectors. They wouldn't be able to see you for the next few years. They would be plundering, training, earning their arm rings. They would have to be away from you. They didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit. The three of you all knew that the day would come where childish games and fun times would come to an end.

Bakugou folded his arms over his bear chest. “How can we get your attention then?” Heasked. That caught both you and Kirishima's attention. “If you can’t give us it then how canwe get it?” He asked again.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. My mom said I would have to focus on my future partner.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He proclaimed. He had already made up his mind. The blond placed his hands on his hips and nodded. “WE’RE GONNA MARRY YOU!” He pointed to you.

“W-what!” You asked confused. “Both of you?” You asked shocked “My father won’t allow it.”

“Yes, he will.” Bakugou said shamelessly and certain. Kirishima however was blushing red and went stiff. Bakugou threw his arm around Kirishima next to him. “I will become the best warrior this kingdom has ever seen and Eijiro will become the next Jarl of our village! Right, Eijiro?”

Kirishima nodded his head, not entirely sure what exactly he was putting himself up for but he did know, if it concerned you and Bakugou, he would do anything. “Y-yes. As a Jarl, I’ll make sure we’ll marry you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. You clearly weren’t convinced. Bakugou turned to Kirishima. “Oi, Eijiro. What’s that thing that people do before they get married?”

Kiri looked at Bakugou confused. “Kiss?”

Bakugou’s face scrunched up as he stuck his tongue out. “Gross. No.” He pushed the other boy. That made Kirishima blush bashfully and you giggled. “The other thing.”

“Propose?” Kirishima suggested again.

“Yah but we did that.” Bakugou stated.

“We did?” Kirishima asked, confused.

Bakugou opened his mouth to speak but then realised Kirishima was right. He dropped down to one knee. His face went pink but he looked determined. His red eyes looking between the two of you. “I promise to Odin and any other fuckin’ gods I need to, that I’ll marry the both of you.” He nodded his head. He pointed to his chest. “And I’ll be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have.”

You and Kirishima shared a look. Before you could comment, Kirishima did the same thing. He went on one knee before the two of you. “I promise to Odin and Freya that I’ll marry the both of you and be the most manliest and reliable husband to… to the both of you.” He stared at the blond briefly, making Bakugou turn his head trying to hide his red face. Kirishima looked back up at you. “I promise.”

Watching them do it, you couldn’t just stand and not say anything. You pulled your dress to the side and went down on one knee. Your knee pressed against the cold damp soil. “I promise to Odin and Freya that I’ll marry the both of you and be the best wife you could ever need. Don’t think about trying to find another woman because she won’t be better than me.” You stated proudly.

And that was the last time you saw them for years. You grew, you changed physically and mentally but what stayed the same was where your heart belonged to. You were older, wiser and for one thing less spoilt. You did everything to be the best person you could be. You helped around the community, you supported your warriors and even learned a bit from them.

Your eldest brother had passed leaving your eldest sister as the next heir to the throne. That in itself scared you. Not because you didn’t support your sister. You did, but that also meant that she couldn’t be carted off. That she wasn’t to be used as a bargaining chip anymore. You were the next royal in line. You were terrified obviously. You didn’t want to marry some fat old man of a neighbouring village or kingdom. If anything you would have rather died single.

Your life was like that. Waking up each morning to fear.

But for one day, that disappeared. Your father was holding a great feast for a series of successful raids that had been occurring. The guests of honours were said to be ones you hadn’t seen in years. You hadn’t been that excited or nervous for something in months. You dressed in your best outfit, applied face point to your eyes, face and shoulders and made sure you looked more presantable than you were in months.

“You know you might just attract every other person other than them right?” Your sister teased from her place upon her bed.

You pulled on a fur around your shoulders. “Lets pray that doesn't happen.” You stated unbothered.

Your sister raised an eyebrow. She stood up. “I heard they were lovers.” She stated. You stiffened for a moment.

You heard stories about them. The beast of a redhead that tore through enemies like they were paper. The blond demon warrior that slaughtered and took with a smile on his face. An unstoppable duo whose affections towards each other, though not shunned nor hated on, were very apparent. You were glad they still were close and if the rumours were true, loved each other. If they couldn’t have you at least they had each other.

Your sister walked up behind you and placed her hands on your shoulders. “Sister, let them go. You can’t keep on holding on to silly childhood promises.” She told you as she bent down to look at you through the mirror. You looked down at your lap. “I am sure I can find you a lovely young jarl you could spend your time with. Plus what if you don’t find them attractive anymore?”

You looked up at her. “Well, I would need to get my eyes checked.” You stood up with her.

The two of you went into the main hall. You both stood next to your father and mother and younger brother. You watched as Jarl after Jarl and warrior after warrior came into the great hall but you hadn’t seen them yet. You kept your head high. Even if you were mistaken, even if they weren’t coming, you wouldn’t be disheartened. It only meant you would probably take your sister up on what she had offered.

Lastly, from the darkness outside were two men, built like oxen. You were stunned for the most part. The sea of people in the great hall parted for them, feeling the power and radiancy they carried with them. It was suffocating from even where you stood.

Finally making it in front, standing next to each other were the two men you had longed to see for years.

On the left was an ash blond with a white direwolf fur over his shoulders with a red cape. His hair was longer now. Half his head was braided in tight blonde braids and the rest was kept in his unruly blond locks. He was lean with a small waist that had even you envious. His large chest seemed soft to you and held few scars to them but clearly hard earned. His maroon piercing eyes, covered in black face paint looked at you instantly. They held no shame in looking at you or your figure, a smirk of pride and cockiness went to his face at your attention.

Your eyes then went to the giant next to him that you could hardly believe was the same boy you knew years ago. He had a growth spurt making him wider and bigger than the blond. He truly lived up to the reputation that the Kirishima’s held of being beasts among men. His broad and exposed chest was covered in markings and a few scars. He had long locks of red hair that fell down his back. You had heard rumours that his hair turns red permanently from the blood of his victims. His crisp apple eyes found you as well. An unreadable emotion behind his eyes. The two of them bent down on one knee before your family, their heads down. The tight arm rings around their right arms showing their vows to their fellow man here.

“Your majesties.” They both said.

Your father smiled with a laugh. “The demon warrior, Katsuki Bakugou and the Beast among men, Jarl Eijiro Kirishima. Stand men, stand. This whole night is in honour of you after all.” The duo stood back up straight, heads held high. “Your winnings and efforts have paid off my good and faithful warriors. Tonight we shall feast in your honour!”

With that the hall erupted into joyous cheers. Music played and food was served as everyone sat drinking and eating to their hearts content. Loud boisterous laughter and cheers rang through the warm air as there was celebration to their achievements. You sat dutifully next to your sister as she got lucky enough to sit next to Bakugou. Your father sat between the two men.

“Maybe you weren’t so wrong about dressing up.” Your sister whispered into your ear, making you both giggle.

You nudged her. “You never did like to listen to me.” You teased. Before you could continue you heard your father say something.

“I would like to reward the both of you with an opportunity as well with your riches… If you so wish…” He stated to the two of them. You peered over trying to hear what else he would say when your sister cut in/

“Whoever gets their hands on them would be a lucky person.” She stated as she picked up her cup of beer.

You nodded. “Yes, they would. If only the heavens would be so kind.” You motioned to her.

“Mother said that father might just reward one of them with the opportunity as King.”

You choked on your wine. “What?”

She nodded her head. “For my hand, they would be crowned King.”

Your ears started to ring at her words. “For… your… your hand?” You asked shakily.

She smiled. “Yep. Of course you could have the other one if you so wished.”

You absentmindedly nodded your head not entirely feeling all up to the party. Your first chance in years to see them, talk to them, be with them and it was taken from you. You stood up. “Excuse me, I’ve got to go out and check on our brother. He must be so bored.” You smiled and quickly made your way away from the main table. Red eyes watched you as you left.

You quickly made your way out of the hall into the cool night air. You dropped your shoulders and went into the direction of the woods. Your head down as you tried regaining your barings. She must have known your fathers plans all along. Which was probably why she told you to forget about them. You couldn’t have both. That’s selfish.

Or was it?

You didn’t mind being selfish.

You found yourself at the river, your meeting spot when you were kids. The night seemed identical to it was the last time you saw them. Bright big moon in the sky with the heavens twinkling and winking at you. The river was calm near you and the wind was only just strong enough to move the cape you wore.

This was a place where you could feel safe. Almost as if they were standing right next to you.

You heard a snap of a twig that made you immediately look back. Your heart raced in fear as you looked behind you. Your eyes dashed around the area looking for what the sound was. You moved backward in fear.

Your back bumped into what you thought was a tree.

“No hello, princess ?” You turned around immediately and your eyes widened in shock. You knew who it was from the way he said your title. Standing in front of you, arms crossed over his chest was Bakugou. The moonlight his blond hair in a sort of luminescent glow as he stared down at you with red eyes that seemed to stare into your soul.

“Katsuki .” You whispered his name like it was something you never thought you would say again.

You took a step backwards and your back hit something again. “Years away from you and you haven’t even given us some of your attention. Do you not know how much we missed you, princess?” You turned around and you saw him. Kirishima. His tall stance is almost menacing in the dark, even with the moonlight falling on him. Eyes dark like a predator in the night as he looked down at you.

You gulped. “ Eijiro .” You whispered.

This was nothing like it was when you were younger. For one thing, this wasn’t the same Kirishima you knew when you were younger. He used to be so timid, keeping himself closed within himself most of the time. He was doubtful. This man in front of you seemed to radiate confidence and strength. A real Jarl.

“That’s not true, Eij.” Bakugou stated. “You should have seen the way she was staring at my chest. Perverted little princess.” Bakugou snarked with a grin on his face.

Kirishima laughed. “I don’t blame her Katsuki, but you’re right. She was staring at my arms like they were meat on a silver platter.” He too snarked.

The two of them started circling you. For a moment you wondered what was going on. Why were they saying such things? Why were they circling you? Why did your legs feel weak and your abdomen felt tied in knots? Then it hit you.

They were playing a game with you. A game they loved to play after the first day they met you. Wolves and doe. Wolves circle their target, their prey- the doe- and the doe has to get away from them. You were always a doe. They were always wolves. Back when you were younger it seemed easier since you were always a bit taller than them and could get away faster and probably climb a tree away from them. Now? Now you felt more like your fate was already sealed to the butchers than you having a chance.

But the thrill. The thrill you yearned with them overtook your judgement. The hunter and the prey. The wolves and the doe.

They saw the recognition in your eyes and their grins grew. You bit your bottom lip as you looked between the two of them. Kirishima’s eyes raked over your body with desire. Hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Look at her, Katsuki. Doesn’t she look just delicious?'' He asked as he licked over the edges of his sharp teeth, his clear want for you making your heart beat out of your chest.

Bakugou chuckled. “Indeed. Looks like a pretty doe for the fuckin taking.” Once he was behind you, his fingers dragged across the nape of your neck making you shiver. “I wonder how she tastes.” He growled close to your ear.

That’s when you ran. You pushed your legs as hard as you could away from them, away from the village and deeper into the woods. You heard their loud and amused laughter from behind you, but you couldn’t hear them following you. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you almost felt it hard to breathe.

You felt grateful you weren’t wearing a dress tonight. You probably would have been extremely handicaped due to it. You kept running, swerving between trees trying to put as much distance between them and you as possible. A glimmer of hope flickered within you.

Maybe you could win.

Then you heard it. Loud laughter. “Was she always this fucking slow, Eijiro?” To your left, running just a few trees away from you was Bakugou. He’s lean body moving agily between the trees and over fallen logs. He was keeping up with you as if it was child’s play.

“Nah!” To your right was Kirishima. Even with his huge size, he seemed to navigate the trees better than you ever could and you lived in the area. “I don’t think she’s even trying to get away.”

Suddenly just like that, they were gone. You couldn’t see them in the darkness of the woods or the light of the moon. You slowed down and looked around wondering where they had both disappeared to. Your eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“Katsuki? Eijiro?” You let out scared.

Two arms wrapped around you. You let out a small scream as you were being held by the waist. You heard Bakugou’s rare laughter. Loud and obstreperous laughter. “ Katsuki! Eijiro! Where did you go? ” He mocked you, making you laugh. He held you up making you giggle and laugh louder. His big strong arms always made you feel safe despite the game you all just participated in.

Suddenly you were both pushed back by a huge force. You landed on Katsuki’s chest, with your back against him. Caging the both of you between the ground and his large frame was Kirishima with a grin on his face. The three of you all laughed at the situation, you between the two men. It reminded you of the good days when you used to let them win and you would end up in a similar position with all three of you on the floor laughing.

You calmed down as you looked up at the redhead. You admired his handsome features. A satisfied smirk on his face at getting to you. He leaned closer down to you. “Got you, doe.” He said condescendingly.

Your heart was beating loudly with how close he was to you.“Yah… you got me.” You affirmed, your eyes strayed to his lips. Bakugou pushed you forward, making you kiss the redhead.

Kirishima placed his knee between you and the blond’s spread legs, applying pressure to you both. Both you and Bakugou groaned. You leaned deeper into the kiss as he easily won for dominance. His kiss had a burst of passion and need for you. It was as if he was sucking the energy out of you, leaving you breathless. The moment his lips left yours, and air could return to your lungs, Bakugou had tilted your head back towards him and had taken your lips for himself. He kissed you deeply too. His touch was explosive and filled to the brim with desire. His grasp on your hips tightened as he held you. You hummed as you arched your back slightly, pressing harder against him, making him grunt.

Your eyes were closed even after separating from him. “Gods, I missed the both of you.” You whispered.

“And we missed you.” Kirishima placed his hand on your cheek.

“I… I had thought the two of you had…” You couldn’t let it out. Your own insecurities suffocating you.

Bakugou raised an eyebrow. “What? You thought we would just live on without you?” He asked. “Yah fuck no.” He shook his head. “Your ours, doe. We promised you, didn’t we?”

“I know. I know.” You looked away from the both of them. “My father wants one of you to marry my sister, doesn’t he?” You asked.

Kirishima let out a heavy breath. With that he got off the two of you, and pulled Bakugou up, automatically sitting you in his lap in the process. “He does.” He answered your question, making you shrink back more.

Bakugou had his hands down on the ground to steady himself as you leaned against him. “I wouldn’t blame you guys.” You stated. “One of you would be king and the other a Jarl. It would be the dream for you guys. I would support the two of you, even with my sister as your Queen.”

Bakugou scoffed. “We couldn’t give two shits about her.” Bakugou growled in anger as he looked off to the side. “But… we do care about you.” He told you, his voice softer than normal. With one of his hands he took yours securely. His calloused warm hands gave you comfort.

Kirishima placed a large hand on your cheek. He offered you a soft smile. The smile that would comfort you in your dreams. “We would deny Valhalla to be with you.” He told you honestly. You closed your eyes as emotions bursted into your heart at the declaration. “I would rather let Thor strike me down with his hammer, lightning in tow, than to love another that isn’t you and Katsuki.”

You smiled and placed your smaller hand over Kirishima's. You nodded your head. That reminded you of something. You chuckled and a small smirk went to your lips. You turned back to look up at Bakugou. “I heard you two were lovers? Is it true?”

Bakugou chuckled. His hold on your hand tightened slightly. He bent down closer to your ear. “It’s whatever you make of it.” He told you with a smirk of his own. That made a desire to know exactly what he was meaning burst from you. “What I do have to say though, is that you have never seen a cock like the one between his legs that’s for sure.” Bakugou shot you a wink as your cheeks warmed instantly at his vulgar words. Kirishima shot him a glare which Bakugou chose to ignore. “You should see him when he is straight off the battlefield, princess. When he’s covered in blood, veins bulging and looking like a fucking god. I’m tellin’ you, nothing sexier.”

“Can you shut up, Katsuki?” Kirishima asked annoyed.

Bakugou stuck his tongue out childishly making you laugh. “Make m-”

He was quickly shut up with a kiss from Kirishima. It was forceful but held the same passion and love as always. Kirishima’s hand snaked up to your thigh and gripped it roughly making you release a held in breath. Something about what the blond was saying, made you know he wasn’t lying about anything. Kirishima playfully bit on the blond’s lower lip. The blond held a smirk of his own at Kirishima’s actions.

Kirishima moved back and shook his head with a deep chuckle. “You are such a brat.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “You sound like my mother.”

“Well, your mother isn’t wrong, Katsuki.” You told him, making Kirishima laugh. Bakugou playfully growled at you next to your ear. He bit lightly on the top of your ear making you laugh. “We should head back before people get even more suspicious than they no doubt are already.” You let out with a sigh.

“Or we can just kidnap you.” Before you could respond, you were suddenly off the ground. You squealed as you were thrown over Kirishima’s shoulders. “Make you our chieftess and live the rest of our lives with you by our side and warming our bed. Right Katsuki?” Kirishima held you by your thighs as he stood up onto his feet not bothered by your weight at all. He turned to look at the blond who had gotten up beside him.

Bakugou placed his hands behind his head. “Couldn’t have said it better myself, Red.” “You guys can’t just kidnap me.” You defended yourself. “What about-” You let out a gasp as a slap went to your ass. You arched your back in surprise at the stinging feeling.

“Oi! Stop spewing shit and just say yes. You already said you would be the best wife ever, so do that.” Bakugou reprimanded you.

Your face felt hot. You looked away. “But-”

Kirishima now slapped your thigh making you tense again, pushing them closer together. “Don’t worry princess.”

“Just focus on Eijiro’s ass and life will be a much better place.” Bakugou bent back to look at you. That’s when you noticed at the perfect view you got of said ass.

Holding you with one arm, Kirishima slapped Bakugou on the behind making him yelp. “The two of you are going to be the death of me.”

“What an honourable way to die.” You and Bakugou stated together.

-Glitch1d

Truthfully, there were many things about his past he hadn’t managed to share yet. You had probably pieced fragments together already through conversations, things overheard from the crew, and your own intuition. Your relationship was still young enough that there were chapters of each other’s lives left unread, but old enough that neither of you needed every detail to understand the other.

He loved finding you curled up in the library with a book, or half-asleep in bed—sometimes your own, sometimes his—waiting for him to finally stop working and come lie down too.

He loved the spark that lit your eyes whenever the two of you visited museums in whatever city the crew temporarily docked at. The conversations about paintings, writers, history, myths. The way your excitement spilled into every topic you touched.

And he loved your affection for sweet things.

Especially, as you constantly reminded him, for him.

“The sweetest thing of all.”

Every single time, it earned an exasperated eye roll, ears tinged pink beneath the brim of his hat, and a desperate attempt to change the subject or stare intensely at the nearest wall.

Sweet. Sweet. Sweet.

Law wasn’t always fond of revisiting the past. It followed him regardless of where he went, a shadow he had never quite managed to outrun.

But that evening, his thoughts drifted to his family.

To his father.

He remembered the way his father would surprise his mother with bouquets of the freshest flowers he could find. There was always a small note tucked among the stems, usually containing only a few words, yet somehow capable of bringing an even brighter smile and a blush to her cheeks.

Sometimes his father would return home early from work, a near impossibility for a doctor as respected as he had been, simply because he wanted more time with his wife and children.

Law remembered him helping around the house without being asked. Cooking lunch. Washing windows. Dusting shelves. Even the smallest, most ordinary little acts had been woven together with care and affection.

The captain found himself yearning for that too.

Love didn’t always have to be spoken.

Perhaps that was why the memories lingered.

Because words had never been his strongest point.

He loved you.

God, he loved you.

There was never any doubt about that.

Yet sometimes it felt as though an unbearable invisible weight sat heavily across his shoulders, preventing him from taking that final step and showing you every ounce of tenderness he carried for you.

And there was so much tenderness. More than he knew how to express.

He only hoped you knew that already.

So he started small.

Just as you were about to leave your room and march down the corridor to his office and force your chronically sleep-deprived boyfriend into getting at least a tolerable amount of rest, the door slid open.

Law stood there holding two mugs of hot chocolate piled high with whipped cream and two books tucked beneath one arm.

“I figured you could use about three hundred milliliters of concentrated sugar shock right now.”

His voice was as flat as ever, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed him. One corner of his mouth twitched upward as he stepped inside.

You blinked.

Before you could say anything, he crossed the room, placed one of your favorite books in your lap, and set the mugs on the nightstands on either side of the bed.

A moment later he slipped beneath the blankets beside you. Without a word, he nudged you gently against his shoulder and opened his own book.

You stared at him. Then at the hot chocolate. Then at him again.

“…Are you feeling alright?”

Law snorted.

“Unfortunately.”

You laughed, and the sound alone made the strange fluttering sensation in his chest feel worthwhile.

A few mornings later, you woke to something even stranger.

Instead of waking up alone in bed while Law disappeared into another round of research before sunrise, you woke up wrapped tightly in your lover’s arms, his hands resting securely around your waist.

For a long moment, you simply stared.

It wasn’t unusual to fall asleep together.

It was unusual to wake up together.

Usually, by the time dawn painted pale streaks across the submarine’s metal walls, he had already disappeared into his office to bury himself beneath stacks of notes and medical journals.

As though he sensed you stirring awake, he pulled you even closer, a sleepy sound escaping him.

Then he buried his face deeper into your hair.

“Keep sleeping.”

His voice was muffled against your head.

“We’re comfortable like this.”

You smiled despite yourself.

“Captain, are you cuddling me?”

“No.”

“You literally have me trapped.”

“It’s a strategic embrace.”

A laugh escaped you.

The vibration of it made him pull you even closer. He inhaled slowly, catching the familiar scent of coconut and mango from your shampoo.

Warm. Comforting. Home.

For once, neither of you moved.

On another morning, you walked into the kitchen expecting to begin preparing breakfast for the crew since it happened to be your turn.

Instead, you found Law already there.

The counters were occupied by ingredients, dirty bowls, and evidence of what could only be described as organized chaos. He was in the middle of arranging food onto plates.

When he noticed you standing in the doorway, he immediately became very interested in the knife he was holding.

“I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d make things easier for you.”

His eyes flicked toward yours, nervous despite himself as he waited for your reaction.

Your entire face lit up and you immediately walked up to shower him with kisses..

Before he could retreat, you crossed the kitchen and threw your arms around his neck.

“Law!”

You kissed one cheek.

Then the other.

Then his jaw.

Then his forehead.

The poor man nearly short-circuited.

He blushing so hard it was almost concerning, grumbling under his breath and pretending to complain the entire time.

Heat rushed straight to his ears.

“H-Hey.”

Another kiss.

“Cut it out.”

Another kiss.

“I’m serious.”

Another.

You finally pulled away enough to see his face.

Bright red.

Absolutely mortified.

And cute. Very cute.

Law muttered something incoherent under his breath and turned back toward the food as if the frying pan had suddenly become the most fascinating object in the world.

You only laughed harder.

The gifts continued.

Whenever the Polar Tang docked somewhere for supplies and circumstances forced you to stay behind to guard the submarine, your Surgeon of Death always returned with something for you.

A rare edition of a book.

A dress he’d spotted in a shop window.

A local dessert from a bakery tucked away in some side street.

A trinket tied to the history of the island.

Something thoughtful, chosen specifically for you.

He never made a big deal out of it. Usually he’d leave the gift beside you with a muttered explanation before pretending it wasn’t important.

Once, he returned with a shirt he clearly intended for you to sleep in—a design modeled after the tattoos stretched across his chest.

He didn’t even stay long enough to watch you open it.

The second he dropped the bag onto the couch beside you—where you sat listening to yet another one of Penguin’s ridiculously long jokes—he turned on his heel and marched straight back to his office.

He did not wait to watch you open it.

His stomach was performing acrobatics the entire way there. His pulse wouldn’t settle and something beneath his ribs felt unbearably strange.

Fifteen minutes later, a knock sounded at his door.

Then it opened.

You stepped inside wearing only your robe and the shirt.

Law glanced up and promptly forgot how breathing worked.

The oversized black fabric disappeared beneath your bathrobe, but the familiar tattoo design stretched across your chest exactly as he’d imagined.

Heat rushed violently up Law’s neck, spreading over his ears and across his cheeks in seconds.

“H-Hey… what are you doing?” he asked, heart pounding so hard he was convinced it might burst straight through his ribs and sink the entire submarine.

You smiled at him from beneath your lashes.

“I wanted to show you how much I like my gift.”

You walked over slowly, placing both hands on his shoulders before covering his face in kisses—his jaw, cheek, forehead, eyes, eyebrows, nose, and finally his lips.

By that time whatever remained of his composure had surrendered completely.

He deepened the kiss immediately.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist before sliding lower, lifting you effortlessly into his lap and pulling you flush against him.

When the kiss finally broke, his forehead rested against yours.

“I like it too,” he whispered against your mouth, the corners of his lips curved slightly.

“Especially on you.”

The following week, the Polar Tang surfaced near a small coastal town.

For once, there were no emergencies and the crew scattered to enjoy the rare sunlight however they pleased. Some swam. Others wandered into town. Some napped on deck, read books, or simply enjoyed the fresh air before the submarine inevitably returned to the dark depths below. Some headed into town.

You and Bepo claimed a comfortable spot on deck and spent the morning enjoying the warmth.

Law had gone into town on urgent business—restocking ingredients for his medicines—but insisted he wouldn’t be long and that there was no need for you to come with him.

Bepo had strangely supported this argument with suspicious enthusiasm.

Still, you didn’t think much of it. Days like this were rare. 

At some point, Bepo wandered off to grab cold lemonade while you stayed stretched out in your chair, eyes closed, listening to the waves and feeling the ocean breeze brush softly against your legs.

Everything felt peaceful.

Then suddenly, a tall shadow blocked the warmth of the sun.

You peeked over your sunglasses and found your beautiful, impossibly tall boyfriend standing over you, holding an enormous bouquet of peonies in soft pastel shades—soft pink, white, creamy, pale lilac. Petals layered like clouds.

Your breath caught.

“They’re beautiful,” you whispered, eyes shining as you buried your nose into the sweet floral scent. “How did you know these were my favorite?”

Law watched you quietly.

His expression softened.

He’d known because months ago you’d stopped in front of a flower stall and spent nearly ten minutes admiring peonies.

You hadn’t realized he’d noticed, but he did of course.

Law noticed everything about you.

“Lucky guess,” he replied quietly, watching you instead of the flowers.

You narrowed your eyes.

“Liar.”

He shrugged.

Your fingers brushed against a folded note tucked between the stems.

The moment you noticed it, Law swallowed hard.

Suddenly he felt far more nervous than he had facing emperors, marines, or sea monsters.

Slowly, you unfolded it and three words stared back at you.

I love you.

You looked up at him immediately, startled and flushed pink.

Then Law exhaled.

“I mean it,” he said before you could speak.

“Even if saying it out loud is hard for me sometimes. I love you. Breathing feels easier when you’re around. I sleep better beside you. You make every day better.”

He continued before courage could abandon him.

“Everything is better.”

The vulnerability in his expression nearly broke your heart. And he swallowed thickly.

“Sorry if I’m not always good at showing it.”

Tears gathered in your eyes before you could stop them and you laughed softly and shook your head.

“I love you too, idiot,” you whispered, hugging the bouquet tighter. “Very, very much.” A tear escaped despite your smile.

“And trust me—you show it plenty. I never want you to stop.”

Something warm settled inside his chest. The anxious knot he’d been carrying all morning finally unraveled.

“I don’t plan to.”

He carefully took the bouquet from your arms and placed it on the lounge chair beside you, You could put them in a vase later.

"here you are, one large black coffee with two sugars." you hum, picking up the two drink carriers, about to leave his office. he only looks away from his monitor momentarily to flash you a tiny smile and quietly mutter, "thanks." he picks up the cup and brings it to his lips for a long sip.

"see you around." you sing, about to exit his office and deliver the other coffees, until you hear him call out behind you,

"erm, why is 'princess' written on my cup?"

you turn around to look at him, still wearing a smile even as he glares at you with a expression filled with a mix of disgust and suspicion. "oh, that's just the silly name i gave to the barista. they write it on the cup so i know whose drink belongs to who."

"right." he clicks his tongue, narrowed eyes glancing between you and his cup, "and is there a reason why you didn't use my actual name? or.. any other noun?"

you're left speechless for a moment. in all honesty, you weren't expecting him to call you out on it; you thought you'd be able to leave his office before he noticed, then point it out in the breakroom. defensively, you splutter, "it's just a bit of harmless fun and silliness, sir. no need to get so worked up about it. but if you are really upset by it, i'll give them your actual name next time i go, mkay?"

he opens his mouth. likely to rebuttal against your claim that he is getting 'worked up' or is 'upset', but before the words can even leave his mouth you swiftly close the door to his office with a perky, "see you later!"

and tsukishima is left irritated, drinking out of his princess cup.

STRIKE TWO. in typical assistant fashion, you eventually are left to deal with arranging meeting between tsukishima and whoever else — whether that's curators from other museums or private buyers/sellers. recently, there's been one seller from overseas that he really wanted to meet with; he'd been trying for ages but apparently this guy must be really busy or something because it took tsukishima four months to even get a reply from the man himself, wherein the man said he'd be happy to meet, if he has time. then, tsukishima left you to iron out the specific details and nail down a time/date.

the door to his office swings open and you proudly beam at him while standing in the doorway. he's in the middle of reading a file on his desk, so he only briefly looks up at you over the rim of his glasses which have slid down his nose, "can i help you?"

"nope, but i can help you." you proclaim, meanwhile he doesn't even look up from his papers as he raises and eyebrow, urging you to continue. you do so, saying, "guess who managed to secure a date and venue for your meeting with... the important guy, whose name i forgot."

tsukishima visibly perks up from his chair, drops his pen in shock and locks eyes with you, and you swear for a millisecond, an emotion that could be perceived as joy lights up his face. "mr kim?!"

"yes, him!"

"excellent work." he gives you an approving nod, picking up his pen and resuming his work, "when is the meeting?"

"uh, well, he said he'd only meet with you if for when you okay, he would let you to."

tsukishima continues to nod, scanning the text in front of him, "right, forward me the ema—" he pauses, mind stuttering as he attempts to process what you said, "uh, sorry, could you repeat that for me?"

"he said he'd only meet with you if for when you okay, he would let you to."

you say it with such a rehearsed confidence that tsukishima sooner believes that he may be having a stroke than the idea that you might just be pranking him. "sorry," he clears his throat and straightens in his chair, "one more time, please."

"he said," you stress this time, "he'd only meet with you for when you okay, he would let you to."

now finally starting to catch on, his expression of befuddlement slowly begins to transform into one of annoyance, "that doesn't make any sense."

"yes, it does." you scoff, putting on a matching face of aggravation, "maybe you're just having a senior moment. here, i'll repeat it for you once more: he said he'd only meet with you for when you okay, he would let y—"

"that doesn't make any fucking sense! what're you even trying to say?" you snaps at you, and you open your mouth to say something that would piss him off even more, but at this point you are struggling to hide how amused you are by his reaction and a sly smile begins to tug at the corners of your lips, one that you try so hard to suppress but he notices anyway, and when he does he sighs, "get out of my office."

you nod, putting a hand over your mouth to muffle your snickering as you leave the office, closing the door behind you.

there's a moment of silence where tsukishima can hear the blood vessels in his forehead bulging, but you break it by popping your head into the room and stating, "i did actually get a meeting with the guy though. it's next friday at two o'clock at the plaza lunch spot. i'll forward you the details." and you just as hastily dip out.

at least one good thing came of that interaction, he tells himself.

STRIKE THREE. there's a knock at his door, but he's on his lunch break. everyone knows that he takes his lunch between 1.30 and 2.30 — the same time it has been for the last 18 years — and expressly asks no one to disturb him during this period, so who would be inconsiderate enough to knock on his door while he's eating his su— oh, of course.

the moment he realises who it is on the other side of the door, it creeps open and your head pokes in and proves his assumption to be correct.

he covers his mouth as he's still chewing on his sandwich, "i didn't say you could come in."

"but it's an emergency, sir!"

"what is it?" he quirks a brow. usually if someone interrupted his lunch with an 'emergency', he'd show a bit more concern but given that it's you and you once referred to a cologne he was wearing that you weren't particularly fond of as a 'nasal assault and biohazard', he has reason to believe that you're being hyperbolic.

another assumption proven correct as you explain, "someone brought in tuna and egg salad for lunch and now the breakroom reeks." your eyes squeeze shut, cringing as you recall the awful odour, "could i please eat lunch in here, with you?"

"that's a stu—" for second he forgets that he's your boss and he's only meant to use professional language, but he hastily catches himself, "that's a ridiculous complaint. just open a window." he takes another bite of his sandwich.

"but sir, it's such a foul smell, you don't understand." you continue to whine, leaning against the door, "and i wouldn't you like to have someone to talk to during your lunch break?"

"my office isn't for fraternising." he states bluntly, "anyway, if i let you eat in here, soon enough everyone will be eating there lunch in here."

"i highly doubt anyone else would volunteer to eat in your company." you chirp in such a sweet tone of voice that it takes tsukishima a few moments to compute how offensive that is, "even if they do, you can just tell them to politely get lost because i am the only employee who is tolerable enough to eat with you."

"i'm not sure how true that is." he contemplates, leaning back in his chair and catching a glimpse of the clock. more of his fleeting lunch hour was slipping away from him as he entertained his conversation. a part of him wanted to angrily assert himself and tell you that you weren't going to eat with him. but an even larger part of him was oddly endeared by you, even though he couldn't even begin to explain why.

regardless, he ought to end this conversation somehow. he gives you a once-over and lazily slides his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, sighing, "you're lucky you caught me in a good mood. sit." he motions to the chair across from him.

you smile, humming a "thank you." as you shuffle into the room and take a seat at the opposite side of his desk as instructed. once sat, you start to unwrap your lunch, "what's got you in such a good mood, anyway?"

"my lunch is quite good today." he explains, covering his mouth as he chews.

"cool, did your wife make it for you?" you ask, taking a bite of your own food.

"no, i'm unmarried. i made it myself." his tone softens slightly.

"right." you buzz, eyes scanning around his room. it dawns on you that you've never had a proper look around his office before. he has all sorts of books and chachkies on his bookshelves, as well as various diplomas, pictures and certificates in frames. most of them seemed to be academic or museum-related accolades, but one in particular stood out to you. hence, you ask, "who are the sendai frogs?" eyes narrowed, trying to read all the text on the certificate.

he follows your gaze until it falls upon the sole volleyball-related item he has displayed in his office. "that's the volleyball team i used to play for." he turns round in his chair to face you again.

"oh, volleyball. is that the sport you were into back when you were athletic?"

he chuckles at your poorly veiled jibe and attempt to get a rise out of him. instead, he plays along for a change, "yes. back when i was athletic, i'd play a lot of volleyball." his eyes fall on the desk, giving the appearance of absence as he reminisces on the fond memories, "that certificate is from when we won the v. league tournament."

"interesting." you nod along. as you do so, he opens a drawer on his desk and rummages around. this goes on until he finds a picture and slides it along to you. leaning forward to look at it, you see it's a slightly crumbled photo of an entire team of volleyball players lined up, all wearing a bright green and yellow uniform, likely the sendai frogs. and you become certain of this when you find a much younger version of your boss in this line-up, in the back row. "aww, is that you?"

"with my team, yes."

so he's always been deadpan-looking. good to know. "how long ago was this?"

he grimaces, "15 years ago, i think."

"you must've been around my age in this photo." you giggle, even harder when you watch his face fall into an unimpressed glare. he tries the slide the photo back over to himself, but you keep a hand on it, "how do i know this isn't ai?"

"ai?" he almost gasps.

"yeah, like, artificial intelligence." you knit your brows together, "it's when a neutral network is trained on data and learn how to—"

"i know what ai is; i'm not an idiot!" he snaps, snatching his photo back, "it's not that. it's a real picture." he insists.

"mm, i'm not so sure. i swear i saw one of the guys had seven fingers on one hand!" you smirk, trying to grab the photo back but he yanks his drawer open and shoves it back in there. "plus, i find it hard to believe you looked like that 15 years ago and you're still unmarried."

it's around now that he starts to realise that you're deliberately trying to get a rise out of him again; he's not sure how he keeps falling for it. regardless, he's left speechless by your two observations — momentarily, at least. there's silence until he finishes chewing on his sandwich and swallows, "no one had seven fingers in that photo, firstly." he huffed, avoiding eye contact, "secondly, i appreciate your attempt at flattery."

"any time." you laugh, and so does he.

YOU'RE OUT. with your head resting on knuckles, you aimlessly type away on your keyboard — next to you is stack of files you've been asked to digitise, so you're hours into typing them all up. there's a software that is meant to transcribe the text from a photo, but the majority of the papers were too crumbled or damaged for it to work. thus, you are left to do it manually in a hackneyed haze.

until you see a notification appear in the bottom corner of your screen. it's an email, from tsukishima. without thinking you immediately stop typing and click on it, bringing the email to full screen.

"SUBJECT: Performance Review.

Hi,

As you may know, it's protocol here at the Sendai City Museum that every member of staff undergoes an annual performance review, conducted by their supervisor. This is done to ensure that everyone is applying their best efforts to their roles and to address any qualms that staff may have.

I'm aware that you have not been employed here for over a year, thus usual procedure stipulates that you do not require a review yet. However, due to recent behaviours and concerns, I believe that an exception can be made in this instance.

I've set a meeting time for 6PM on Friday.

Regards, Tsukishima."

What the hell?

Over the last three days, basically ever since you received that email, you've been on your very best behaviour. You've not been irritating him or bothering him during his lunch hour, nor have you been giving pet names to the barista to put on his coffee. nothing of the sort; you've been the perfect employee — keeping your head down and getting on with your assignments.

granted, being the perfect employee sucks and isn't entertaining whatsoever. but you didn't want to give your boss any more reasons to fire you.

truthfully, a part of you is incredibly shocked that this would even happen. up until now you thought that tsukishima was good humoured enough to understand that all the social transgression you committed were simply in jest. you thought that was the kinda dynamic going on; that he was terribly strict and rude but he'd make up for it by being secretly cool enough to overlook certain things that you did. evidently you misjudged that. turns out he's just strict and rude, with no redeeming qualities. being hot doesn't count as a redeeming quality.

it's whatever. hopefully you'll be able to weasel your way out of any disciplinary action by being sweet but even if you are fired, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world — is what you tell yourself. this job is boring anyway, and it would be constructive for you to free yourself from the shackles of evil co-workers and rooms that smell like drywall and dust constantly.

so, when friday 6PM rolls around and everyone packs up and starts filtering out of the museum, you grab your staff and stroll towards tsukishima's office without a care in the world. well, maybe you cared a little, evidenced by the tremor in your knees and twitching of your eye. but largely, you didn't care!

you knock on the door and he summons you in, and you take a seat across from him, just like you did when you were eating lunch together. although atmosphere this time was far more intense. he's got a suit jacket on this time and you can smell his expensive, fresh cologne from across the desk. he has files in front of him but you can't read them because his computer is in the way.

"glad you came." he states monotonely, without looking up from the papers, "are you ready for your performance review?"

"no." you huff, crossing your arms over your chest, "you're just going to try come up with some reason to fire me, cos you're tired of me."

tsukishima stares at you wide-eyed, honestly he was not expecting you to be so upfront and confrontation about this. people in the professional world usually aren't. he clears his throat and replies, "true, i am tired of you. but i'm not looking for a reason to fire you. the work have done so far is decent, so i invited you here to give you the opportunity to apologise, promise you'll stop being an annoyance and then we could both move on."

"apologise?!" you snort, "why would i apologise? i've not done anything wrong."

"that so?" he quirks a brow, biting the inside of his mouth to stop himself from raising his voice, "what about the time you tricked me into thinking i was having a stroke?"

"i just said a few words out of order; stop being dramatic." you scoff, rolling your eyes, under the firm belief that nothing you've done so far could be classified as 'wrong'. just silly, vexing even.

"you disturbed me during my lunch break and said my certificate was fake." he sneers.

"how dare i disturb lord tsukishima during his sacred lunch hour. if that is such a blasphemous deed then feel free to exile me." you gawk, tone dripping with sarcasm and contempt, all while tsukishima glares daggers at you from across the desk. "also, i did not say your certificate was fake. i'm sure you did win that junior league volleyball tournament eons ago; i said the picture was fake, and we established i was only joking."

tsukishima's heart races. he's not been spoken to in much a manner by a subordinate since... ever. despite working here for over ten years, he still doesn't feel practised enough to know how to deal with this. but what he does know is that you are triggering the asshole in him, hence he stands up with his hands on his desk and commands down at you, with the intention of putting a quick end to this confrontation, "joking or not, you've been shockingly unprofessional these last couple weeks. now, quiet down or else i'll... uh, i'll"

he stumbles over his words. unsure if he should threaten to fire you or something more severe, and this decision results in him stumbling over his words — a fatal error. this allows you the chance to stand up slowly from your chair, not quite getting on his level but still a intimidating display of fearlessness. you scowl up at him and ask, "or else you'll what?"

...

there's a pause. the seconds after that are a frenzy of limbs, heated kisses and hands where they don't belong. you never though this would be the boiling point of your uneasy relationship with your dickhead boss, but here you are; folded over his desk with your skirt hiked up to your waist, his papers all thrown to the floor and his computer shoved aside. "ngh, please.." you groan.

"this what you wanted?" he mutter harshly under his breath as he frantically undoes his zipper and pulls out his cock, smearing the head against your pleading lips, "all of this just to get my attention?" you moan out in reaction to his tip against your hot core and he takes his as a response, "well, you've got it now." he punctuates his sentence with a firm slap on your ass which makes you cry out even more.

from his big hands on your waist pinning you down, to his hot minty breath breathing down your neck, your already soaked for him by this point. his cockhead runs back and forth through your folds, simulating your needy heat until he finally dips his tip shallowly into your hole and growls, "need me to teach you how to fucking behave?"

"yes, sir." you mewl back, trying to buck back onto his dick but his arm is surprisingly strong and keeps you pinned right in place, any attempt you make to move back is futile.

he laugh at this and says, "that's what i thought." right before plunging into you, his lengthy shaft penetrating you and splitting you open on his desk. a staggered moan rips from your throat as this happens, but it's hardly a deterrent for tsukishima. "feeling sorry yet?"

"y-yeah." you stammer, eyes squeezed shut. his length is pushing against your insides, and you're barely able to fit him but he's crammed himself all the way in there, to the point were your folds are virtually kissing his base. you're unable to cope with the vast amount of pleasure and discomfort circling in your abdomen, you try to grab onto something but he has you laid out on his desk, tits pressed against the hard wood. you can't grab the smooth surface so fingers curl around the front edge of the desk.

"good. and i'm also sorry for what i'm about to do to this poor cunt." his voice drips with scorn. he kisses his fingers and uses them to lovingly massage and toy with your clit. giving you a few deceptively calm and sweet moments to cherish before he yanks his hand away and begins pounding into you from behind.

the force of his hips snapping into your ass causes your whole body to shake and rock on top of desk, his hands moving you to the natural rhythm and emphasisng your ass bouncing on his pelvis. "how's it feel, baby?" he grabs a handful of your ass, using that and your waist to keep you in place.

"guh— hah— good!" you squeal, eyes rolling back in your head from the intense euphoria of his cock repeatedly cramming itself into your sopping pussy. having to contort around his length each time brings you a sizzle of pain and satisfaction that it near constant.

"hurts?"

"y-yeah."

"good." he smirks, slapping your ass once more and basking the cute squeak you emit. "it's what you get for being a fucking brat."

"seriously." he gasps, losing momentum slightly but still got a fire in him, a desire to rearrange your insides and keep lashing into you until you've forgot your own name. "i've worked here for over a decade." his teeth grind together, cock starting to weep at being suffocated by your drenched pussy. "and i've never met a girl as insolent and— ah— tight, as you!"

you're not sure if that was meant to be an insult, either way you only feel more motivated to clamp down on him, and his eagerness to be inside you works against him as you swallow him up and he cums inside you, gripping your ass and waist as he fills you up with his seed. his nails dig into you so you're moan moaning all the way through his climax.

once he's done, he leans forward and grabs your hair, pulling you back into a rough arch so he can whisper in your ear, "learnt your lesson yet?" as he nears you, the aroma of sandalwood and citrus, mingled with his natural musk floods your senses. "still feel like being an annoyance, or does this slutty cunt need another round?"

although the proposition of another creampie is tempting, you do feel quite worn out. additionally, you feel like tsukishima definitely put his best effort into that so you should probably throw the old man a bone. "i've.. learned my lesson."

there's a beat of silence. tsukishima gently lets go of your hair and your heads rests back on the desk, as he straightens himself out. "hm," he clicks his tongue, pulling out of your soiled pussy with a lewd squelch, "i should probably make you come anyway, for good measure."

before you can even properly process what he said, his slender fingers latch back onto your poor clit. he's awfully cruel, rubbing and pinching and pulling the most pornographic moans from you. toes curling with ecstasy, your mind blurs in a haze of lust and you all but melt into the desk.

you're so lost in your horny trance that you almost choke on your own spit when replaces his fingers on your clit with tongue, "mm, delicious, sweetheart." he hums into your cunt, the vibrations sends a shiver down your spine. his lips work against your folds, then his tongue ventures deeper into your hole, although as the distance closes his glasses end up in the way. the cold surface against your warmth serves as a shock to your system and your eyes jolt open.

he briefly pulls away and removes them, noticing your juices on them and muttering, "crude slut." under his breath, but still loud enough for you to hear. mixed signals. you're not given a moment to ponder it though as he dives straight back into your cunt. he wraps an strong arm around your legs and licks stripes inside you, forcing the full length of his tongue inside your pussy.

due to his expert fingers stimulating your clit and the ceaseless movement of his tongue, it's not long before your hunched over the desk and screaming his name into the emptiness of the room. "please, please— tsukishima! i—"

"shh, shh, baby." he urges, swiftly replacing his tongue with the fingers of his other hand and skillfully coaxing you through your orgasm, not allowing for even a momentary lull in the onslaught of pleasure. "almost there. let me take care of you."

you do as he says, fully submitted to his hand and just as promised, he guides you through your climax with ease. the concrete ball on your stomach dissolves into something much softer and your spasming walls fade in intensity. soon, you're laying breathless and completely fucked out on your boss' desk, pussy dripping onto the vinyl floor.

he gets up from his knees and composes himself up: zipping his fly, putting his glasses back on, tidying his hair and the like. then, he calmly saunter around to the front of his desk where you face is, and sit down in his chair. he smirks down at you, "that was relaxing. for me."

"something like that." you pant, resting your cheek on the wood.

"tired?"

"very."

"consider yourself lucky, then." he learns back in his chair, idly moving side to side, "had we done this 'back when i was athletic', you'd be worse off." he chuckles to himself, and you're too spent to laugh.

"so, am i fired?" you ask groggily.

"as long as you're not still laying with your legs spread come morning, no."

your eyes widen at this, "really?"

"if i fired you, you'd just goo out and find some other old man to terrorise." he explains, meeting your weary gaze, "it's best you stay. at least i've figured out a way to deal with you."