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#kat’s writing
ryukatters · 6 months
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bf!bkg ignoring you because you won’t call him baby or handsome or whatever nickname you usually call him
“Katsuki— have you seen my charger? I can’t find it anywhere.”
You call out as you make your way down the hall from your bedroom. Your boyfriend is sitting on the couch, having a rotting party all by his lonesome to really live out his day off. It’s a rare occurrence for him to be so inactive, but you surmise even pro heroes can be lazy every once in a while.
“Kats?”
Still nothing. You know for a fact that he can hear you, because you can see the way he subconsciously perks up the minute you say something. Definitely charming, but not enough to quell the growing mix of irritation and worry (mostly worry) brewing inside the pits of your stomach.
You make your way across the living room, standing in front of his place on the couch. He’s still not looking at you. No matter, you just decide to straddle him instead. His hands automatically find purchase on your hips, fingers just a few millimeters shy of your ass.
“Katsuki. What’s wrong?”
“Dunno who that is,” he huffs, head turning to the side so you can’t see the way his lips quirk down into a pout. (Because he swears up and down that’s something he never does.)
“Kats?”
“No.”
“‘Suki?”
“Close, but still no.”
“Baby?”
“Yeah, baby?”
"Have you seen my charger, handsome?"
"In your desk drawer on the right."
You smile. You press an innocent kiss to the tip of his nose. He pulls you flush against him before you can pull away, capturing your lips with his, appreciating the way the two of you meld against each other. He tries not to look too disappointed when you lift yourself off him and stand up. You lean down to give him a fleeting kiss on the cheek.
"Love you, Katsuki."
"Think you've got the wrong guy, sweetheart."
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kitkatscabinet · 6 months
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Nothing fucks with my baby
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Simon Riley x wife reader
Summary: Simon is the Earth orbiting your sun and he'll do anything to keep you safe and happy, even if that means resorting to bloody means.
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: attempted non-con (not by Simon)
@ghosts-cyphera for you pookie, hope you enjoy!
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Eight months. It’s been eight long, tortuous months since Simon saw you in person. Eight months of living off brief Skype calls interrupted by work schedules and shitty internet cutting out mid-call, an age since he’s touched you. Since he’s breathed in your scent and cradled you against his muscular chest, since he’s tasted you. Pictures of you weren’t enough, even if you’d gifted him a set of delectable Polaroids showcasing your gorgeous body decorated with black and white lingerie.  
Long deployments had never bothered him, not until you’d become the central part of his life. Simon was the Earth, orbiting your sun reverently and fervently. He’d worship you on his knees for eternity if that’s what you desired.
His appetite for you has always been ravenous, but his need for you has been greatly nourished after months of no contact. The door to your shared home swings open with a bang, the anticipation coursing through his veins diminishing his control in a way he knows you’ll scold him for. His bag is dropped carelessly in the foyer as he stalks through the space, a man on a mission to find you. Not even the weary exhaustion after months of shit sleep and shared communal spaces would deter him from his mission. 
You’re not in your home office or the bedroom and Simon’s frustration simmers under his skin as he marches straight back out the door. It’s only the knowledge that you’ll be devastated to have missed his surprise homecoming that tempers his annoyance. 
Ghost is beyond irritated by the time he arrives at your work, not necessarily at you, he knows how seriously you take your career, it’s one of the reasons he was so drawn to you. Once some lowly private had made a snide remark about you being the breadwinner, scoffing at Simon for letting his wife ‘emasculate’ him like that. It was only Price playing damage control that kept him from a dishonourable discharge that day. He had no regrets, especially after the incident taught people to keep your name out of their mouths. 
It’s late, well past working business hours when he keys into the building using the code you’d given specially for him. So it shouldn’t surprise him how empty it is, most of the lights turned off as he made his way to your office, but Simon hadn’t survived over a decade in the military without learning to trust his gut. A distinct uneasiness settles in his body, narrowed eyes surveying the space for anything out of the ordinary as he increases his pace to get to you. 
The light in your office is on, the door is left open carelessly and gives Simon a clear view of the sight of you bent over your desk trying not to cry as a man holds a gun to your head and fumbles with your sleek dress pants. Simon thought he knew rage, but any anger he’s ever felt is drowned in comparison to the sheer righteous fury that alights his veins. 
He closes the gap in record time, red filtering out the corners of his vision and spraying over his knuckles as he rips the interloper away and viciously lays into him. Any slurred words pleading for mercy are ignored and shut down as Simon’s fist renders the man’s mouth an inoperable bloody mess. 
His arm aches furiously by the time he pulls back, chest heaving with breaths that have long since been silenced from the scumbag that now lay dead on the floor of your office. It’s the sound of your shaky sobs that pulls Simon back from the brink, immediately darting towards you, shaky hands stained with blood cradling you against his bulk gently. 
He’s vibrating with an explosive cocktail of fury, fear, outrage and relief. You press yourself tighter against his chest like you’re trying to burrow into the safety of his ribcage. Simon can’t bring himself to speak, mouth dry and tongue heavy as he buries his face into the top of your head. The silence is broken by the shaky inhales of your rattling breaths and sobs. 
All too soon you’re pulling away, even when he fights to keep you safe and sound against his chest. “Simon? What… what’s going to happen with-” You try and turn your gaze towards the corpse staining your carpet but Simon prevents you with a hand grasping your jaw, preventing you from getting a glimpse at the carnage. 
“Don’t worry your pretty little head darling, I’ll take care of it. But first, let's get you home yeah?” He walks you from the building to your car with a supportive arm wrapped around your shoulders, tucking you against his side before sliding you into the passenger seat of your car. It’s a testament to how shaken you are that you don’t protest, remaining silent and clutching the hand that grasps your thigh like a lifeline. 
It doesn’t take long to tuck you into bed, wrapping you tightly in the blanket like it will protect you from the horrors of the outside world. The adrenaline had faded from your body making way for the exhaustion. Simon doesn’t leave your side until he’s sure the clutches of sleep have pulled you under, and even then, it's with extreme hesitation that he stands and leaves the bedroom, reaching for his phone to make a call. 
Luckily, you don’t wake even once in the hours that follow as he waits for news of the cleanup. He spends that time alternating between checking in on you, watching you breathe peacefully and pacing the linoleum floors that you’d insisted on. 
A single knock on the front door pulls him from the spiral of thoughts that threatened to pull him further and further into darkness. He opens the door to an unimpressed Price, who pushes his way in with Gaz and Soap trailing after. Expectantly he stares at them, watching as Price lights a cigar and takes a long drag. 
“It’s done. Did you have to make such a mess though son?” It’s an innocuous enough comment but one that raises Ghost’s hackles anyway and he shoots a venomous glare at his captain that would never have been acceptable in any other circumstances. His shoulders tense and it takes everything in him to keep his voice somewhat level. 
“That fucker laid his hands on my wife!” He inhaled shakily as he remembered what he’d almost been too slow to prevent, unable to prevent the rise of volume as he yelled at his captain, “My wife! He’s lucky I didn’t paint the room with his insides!” The baritone of his booming snarl is loud enough that even Soap flinches slightly with widened eyes. 
There’s a tense silence but his captain nods, something like approval in his gaze before his eyes slide towards the right and Simon turns just in time to witness you call his name, voice hoarse with sleep and eyes red from tears. 
He crosses the space and curls you against him in record time, nonchalantly throwing a dismissive wave towards his team who simply nod in understanding and file back outside. “Were those the boys? You didn’t have to kick them out” you murmured though Simon was already hushing you, leading you back to bed with a firm hand on the small of your back. 
“Don’t worry ‘bout them lovie, they were leavin’ anyway” he waved away your concerns, finally kicking off his shoes, trapping you in his arms and pulling you down onto the mattress. You squeak at his actions, giggling as his stubble tickles the skin of your neck. 
Despite how pent-up and desperate for your touch he is, Simon makes no move to escalate the situation, settling you in his arms and simply breathing you in. Neither of you speak about the earlier incident, not willing to shatter the peace. Though Simon lets out the occasional hum when your hands trace gentle circles over his heart, focusing on the steady beat of his pulse beneath your palm. 
Inevitably the lingering emotions of the day would have to be dealt with, but not yet, Simon would allow himself to relish in the peace just a little longer.
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titty-gardener · 8 months
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“i don’t know, it’s just, there’s something so unusual about her” you told you friend as you sat down for lunch.
“well, yeah, of course there is. you’re dating a vampire” they responded, with a hint of awe in their voice.
“i mean yeah, that’s probably a factor, but this is different. it’s like…i guess it’s like there’s more to her than that. something that can’t be seen so easily” you pause for a minute, searching for anything that could help get your point across. “it’s like, when i do something she wants me to do, i can hear her voice giving me praise. and more than that, i can hear her telling me what to do. things she hasn’t told me to do before, even”
“but vampires only really have control over your mind when you can see their eyes. and they can’t turn invisible, so i don’t see how that could be possible”
“i know that, that’s what i’m saying! it’s like she’s somehow inside my head, or at least a part of her is.” as the last few words left your mouth, you could feel a smug satisfaction wash over your mind, though not your own.
“you figured that out quickly, my love. i thought surely it would take you another week at least. i knew i was right to let you keep that beautiful mind of yours” the voice of your girlfriend resonates hypnotically within your head “why don’t you come on home and i’ll reward you for being oh so smart.”
of course, that sounds like a lovely idea. you think in response, as your body starts to move automatically. “it was lovely catching up, but i really must be going” you tell your friend, collecting the last of your things.
“but we just got here, why the rush, all of a sudden?” they protest, more confused than distraught
“i’ve figured out a secret, and now she wants to show me what a good toy i can be” you respond, cheeks reddening at your own lack of filter. “we can definitely get lunch again soon though!” you add quickly, as your body moves to leave
“you’re so smart, i’m going to reward you by showing you just how thoughtless you can be” her voice rang through your mind. “your mind is my prized possession”
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babyhuggy · 1 year
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it started in summer - jh86 x oc
series coming soon.
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katishome · 2 years
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Ooo can you please do a jacob day imagine where the reader is an influencer and she and jacob have like a shared youtube channel because they’re dating and they do like a day in the life vlog and its all cute and stuff because they love pda and are super affectionate towards each other ? Thanks bae <3
A Look Into Our Hearts
Word Count: 522
Warnings: None
Pairings: Jacob Day x Influencer!Reader
Note: Hii! Sorry this took me absolutely forever. I’m not totally happy with it but this is my first time doing writing like this so it’s the best i can do, enjoy!
~~~
“Hi guys! It’s Jacob and Y/n here,” Jacob smiled, looking at you.
“And here’s what a day in our life looks like!”
“We both wake up fairly early, so we’ll make breakfast and then go to the gym.”
You set the camera down on the kitchen island while you prepared breakfast.
Jacob cut fruit for a smoothie while you made you both toast.
“We don’t really eat much, cause we’ll do that after the workout but we do need something to give us energy,” Jacob said.
The scene changed to Jacob filming you as you walked into the gym, and then a few sped up clips of your workout.
“Now we’ll shower and then we’ll relax until lunch!”
Another sped up clip of you both messing around with each other post shower, just in towels as you splashed each other with cold water. And then you two calmed down as you helped each other get ready for the day. Jacob helped you dry your hair and you helped him with his skin care.
Laying on his bed, you both turned the camera back on: “We’re gonna watch a movie and chill for about an hour, then we’ll go for lunch with everybody,” Jacob announced, cuddling you into his side. He filmed you with a fond smile, you’d fallen asleep not long after the camera had been turned off.
“Stop it!” You whine as you shoved Kristian away.
“C’mon Y/n! It’s enough!” He yelled, smiling cheekily.
“Now I know how Paige feels,” you groaned, shoving Kristian one more time.
“What? Do you guys hear anything?” He teased.
“I will cut your hair again Kristian, I did it once, don't think I won’t do it again!”
“You’re like a little ant, I’d step on you if Jacob wasn’t bigger than me,” he joked.
You rolled your eyes and pouted at Jacob, slapping Kristian’s sunburnt neck before smiling at the camera triumphantly.
You both didn’t film much of lunch, but filmed your trip to Target for groceries.
You went off with Tabitha to get tampons and Jacob and the rest went to start getting things off the list. After getting all you needed, you messed around and made tik toks before going back home. A small clip of Tabitha and Thomas laughing as the filmed the two of you from around the corner, Jacob’s hands on your hips and yours in his hair. In the middle of a heated kiss.
Helping Thomas film a youtube video, filming more tik toks and getting settled down in the theatre.
You mostly filmed the silly parts, laughing and play fighting.
“Alright guys, that’s pretty much what we do during the day!” You smiled.
“It’s getting late, we’re gonna get settled into bed, thank you so much for watching!” Jacob finished.
He turned the camera off and placed it on his desk, collapsing onto the bed face first. He turned over and pulled you on top of him: “You make me so happy, Y/n. So so happy.”
“I can't even put into words the way you make me feel, Jacob Day,” you smiled, kissing him gently.
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jellysweets · 2 years
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♯ tending to your wounds ☆
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synopsis: self explanatory title😭
characters: thoma & xiao ♡
warnings: pet-names used, use of “alatus”, hurt/comfort + angst i think (xiao only),
kat’s ramble: ITS BEEN A MINUTEE.😭😭 im so sorryyyy☹️ btw what do u guys think abt the new theme?? tysm for the support i love u guys sm!! 🫶🏻
→ part 2 — coming soon —
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ahh, donuts. when the aroma of them finds its way to your nostrils while you’re walking around a shopping center from your local donut shop, you go ahead and get a few. not too hard to make, not too easy either. what could go wrong? i mean, thoma’s an excellent cook, they have to turn out perfect!
well. that would have been the case if he was the one in charge.. you wouldn’t let him take over at all. you made him sit and watch. when you heard a single syllable come out of his mouth you’d shush him immediately. he puts his trust into you and eventually gets lost in thought staring at you, thinking about how much he loves you. looking at your every feature, god you’re the prett- “shit!” you yelp.
before you can even process what just happened, thoma is right by your side looking at your burnt hand. he sighs, “im sorry, it’s my fault, i should’ve helped you..” you turn around and let out a gasp whilst he runs to grab the first aid kit before you can say anything in response.
he returns to your side what seems like immediately. he takes your other hand and leads you to the counter, and he gestures that you sit. he gently grabs your hand, the tips of his digits tenderly touching the underneath of your fingers. he wraps a bandage around half of your hand, firmly covering your burn.
“there you go!” he smiles at you. “now, wanna finish those donuts?” he says enthusiastically. “together?” you ask, looking at him sweetly. he lets out a big grin, “yes!” he giggles and he puts on an apron as well.
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you usually try to conceal your cuts, bruises, gashes, ect. from him. you’re anxious he’ll get too worried about you and get distracted from his duties as both a yaksha and an adeptus. but you’re oh-so wrong for thinking xiao wouldn’t notice. xiao notices everything, there isn’t anything you can hide from him.
little do you know, the only thing he thinks about whilst fighting the enemies in the dusk is you. he can’t wait to complete his nightly duties and return safely to your shared abode. so when he returns home, he can’t stop looking at you, and he wants to be next to you at all times.
you weren’t being careful when you went out, and you ended up getting a pretty big gash your torso. you tried to go home quickly as possible, holding your stomach as you trudged back.
you quietly open the door and peak into your home, just incase xiao made it home early. you step in, your right arm remaining on your torso, protecting your gash. you waltz towards your bathroom. you grab the first aid kit, you open it and see all the cute, loving notes you’ve put in there.
you grin and then shake your head, focusing on your wounds. you fiddle with the bandage a bit before figuring out how to put it on. you wince a bit, then realizing you forgot to disinfect it. you grab an ointment and place it on the wound, you let out a loud wince and end up slouching from the pain.
you see green particles and realize who’s by your side now. you fix your posture and quickly stand infront of the first aid kit, one of your arms covering your wound.
“are you okay?” xiao says, with immense worry in his eyes. “of course i am!! why wouldn’t i be?” you give an unconvincing smile. “move your arm.” he commands. “wh-why? haha!! you worry too much, xiao. gee, you really need to quit worrying so much; it’s not good for you!” you playfully roll your eyes.
you don’t drop your arm, but you attempt to slip past him to go find a sweater to cover up with. he sees he gently grabs your hand, “y/n.. don’t go, not yet. i wasn’t done talking to you.” xiao speaks. “mm..” you surrender. you drop your arm and turn your head to face him, but you don’t dare meet his gaze.
he looks closely at your wound and sighs. “why wouldn’t you call out for me?” he asks with a soft tone, as he carefully tends to your wound. “i didnt.. want.. to be a burden,” you murmur. “like always.. i want to be better. i dont want to be an annoying pest that you always have to take care of,” you feel a tear trickle down your face.
“i want to change, i want to be someone that you don’t always have to worry about. im more of a constant returning patient to you rather than a lover.” you dig your nails into your thighs. “im sorry, xiao. im sorry for disappointing you again.” you stand up from the toilet where he had you sitting. you try to leave now that you think he’s done.
xiao grabs your hand, once again. “y/n, please look at me.” he instructs. you look at him, this time meeting his eyes. he frowns; he then wipes your tears. “dear.. please don’t cry. you’re not a burden to me, and you never will be. im here to take care of you, i take care of you because i love you.” he admits, he feels the tips of his ears burning.
“i love you” he says.. he rarely says that, you know he truly means it when he does. he tries to save it for special occasions, so it doesn’t become an overused term. you grin at him. “i love you too… alatus.”
his eyes widen. “again..” he murmurs. “hm?” you hum, gesturing that he repeats himself. “please.. call me that again.” he says. “alatus.” you repeat.
he pulls you into his embrace, “i love it.”
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— reblogs are appreciated! no reposts —
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k-atsukibakugou · 7 days
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happy birthday to the man!! — katsuki sees your sex toys once and is haunted by what you look like using them
pairing: bakugou x f!reader w/c: 1.5k warning/s: nsfw 18+, m! & f!masturbation; sex toys, i think that's everything notes: this is a bit short BUT i had to get something out for the man, this took me like 2 weeks to write but hopefully now i'll be out of my slump a little bit! pls enjoy c:
crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox
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18+ MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DNI
fuck… he really doesn’t know when the lines started to blur between friend and fantasy, from wanting to hang out with you to wanting you, from talking to you about your day to being bricked up hearing your voice. yet, here he was, hot water streaming down his neck, plastering damp hair to his forehead; the water pouring over his head nowhere near enough to wash his mind of you.
he’d been plagued by you, morning to night, even in his damn dreams since he tried to find a phone charger at your place.
it’s not like he was snooping, he wasn’t trying to find that sort of thing, bakugou was only trying to find your spare charger, he’d seen you put it in one of these drawers before, how was he meant to know you left your spare chargers right below all of that?
he’d slammed the drawer shut the absolute second he realised exactly what he was staring at; the bedside drawer stuffed to the brim with bright, phallic toys, a collection of smaller, rounder vibrators, something that looked awfully similar to a gag, and he heard the telltale metal clinking of at least one pair of handcuffs against the wood when he slammed it closed. embarrassing heat crawled up his neck, burning his cheeks and setting the very tips of his ears alight. stuck in the same spot, mouth half opened dumbly, his eyebrows creased in the centre of his face, all blood rushing from his brain down to his half-hard cock already straining against his pants, the need making him ache.
every hour since that, he’d spent thinking of what your wet cunt looked like swallowing the toys; so pretty and drippy, how it looked tensing around nothing when you came from the buzzing of your vibrator, how you’d look writhing and moaning handcuffed with that gag in your mouth, how your drool would stain your shirt, sticking the fabric to your skin. god, it was just so lewd, even under the purifying water, he felt dizzy, sticky, hot, sweaty, the image of your toys burnt into his retinas, no matter what he tried to distract himself with, he always saw your toys at the forefront of his mind, the perverted imagery refusing to budge from its newfound home.
bakugou groans, a deep, rough sound drowned out by the even buzzing echoing in his ears, the sound slowly building, kicking to a new level when your whine drowns it out. you always start nearly silent in his dreams, just tiny gasps escaping your parted lips when you’d nestle the toy right against your clit. you only get louder from there, your eyebrows scrunching together like his own were, marking two little tallies in the middle, tilting upwards at the centre as you pulled your lip up between your teeth. the motion did absolutely nothing to muffle your sounds, your whimpers and moans only growing louder with every heave of your chest, every passing moment with the vibrator pressed to your pulsing clit making your hips jolt into it.
you reach between your thighs with a whine that sounds all too similar to his name torn from your lips, dipping your fingertips in your slick cunt, collecting all the cum gathering at your trembling hole without even taking a breather from humping your vibrator like your life depended on it. your movements grew jerkier and jerkier the longer the intense vibrations were held to your drooling pussy, your eyes fluttering closed with a breathless shout of his name, shaky, wet thighs squeezing around your hand, even as the vibrator slipped from your grip, falling forgotten onto the sheets beneath you, the constant stimulation growing too much for you—
“fuck.” he really couldn’t help it, his hand travelling lower down his abdomen, trailing behind droplets of water still running down his torso to his hard cock, the tip already leaking from the thought of you. wrapping his fist around the base of his cock, he squeezed once before twisting his wrist, slowly jerking his cock, wondering if you were in your shower doing the same, fucking yourself on one of your toys imagining him in its place just as he wished it was your warm cunt squeezing around his dick instead of his hand.
“katsukiii—” bakugou can feel you beside him, your figure displacing the dense steam surrounding him, a heavy, thick silicone dildo hanging from the glass wall of the shower, your figure slick and soapy from the shower, damp hair sticking to the soft skin of your neck and face when you bent at the waist, lining the tip of the plastic cock up with your drooling hole. the head of the cock would slide into your cunt all too easily in his fantasies, always greedy to watch you take more and more, inch by inch sinking onto it. your mouth falls further open the more you take of the toy, the pleasure too much for you to even hold your head up by the time your ass was pressed against the cool glass, your back arching with the tip of the dildo nestled deep inside your cunt. he wonders if the curve of it would rub on your g-spot at this angle, if it would drive you crazy grinding against the glass, whining when you can’t take it anymore.
bakugou’s head falls back thinking of you reaching for the shower head, his cock pulsing in his hand when he grips the base, his muscles tensing and relaxing while he tried desperately not to cum; the image of you playing behind his eyelids making that a near impossible task. even with his eyes squeezed shut, there you are at the forefront of his mind, switching the settings of the shower head to a concentrated stream, aimed directly at your aching clit, your broken moan jolting his hips forward into his hand, stroking the length languidly. your voice wavered, repeating his name again, the stimulation inside and outside your cunt just so overwhelming.
bracing against the tile with your spare hand, you lift yourself back off the toy, the base suctioned to the glass remaining stuck as you grew quicker in your movements, starting to bounce and roll your hips in a smooth tempo. he matches the pace of your hips with his fist, his breath coming out in nothing but deep huffs. his uneven groans were nothing compared to your sweet chorus of moans and whines, an endless symphony playing in his head of “ah-ah-ah”’s and “mmmng”’s the closer you got, your cum coating the toy just like his pre was smearing all over his fist.
he can’t help the guttural sound that escapes him next, a garbled, broken version of your name when your thighs tremble, your knees only moments away from buckling from the pure bliss; the water is still aimed at your clit, even when you can’t bounce on the dildo anymore, wave after wave of pleasure drowning you until your eyes rolled into your skull and your cum gathered in a creamy ring at the base of the toy, your ass flattening against the glass as you greedily took more of the toy, intensifying the euphoria wracking through your body. he knows your toy fills your cunt so perfectly, knows how you’d hump the air to get more and more of the water aimed at your clit, unrelenting in chasing your orgasm, jolting and jerking until your knuckles turned white against the tile wall, until your voice was so high and loud it didn’t even sound like you anymore.
he wonders if you’d ever screamed taking the fake cock, if you’d ever been so overwhelmed you squealed, your pretty cunt clenching around the toy, milking the poor plastic for everything it can’t give you, or if he’d be the first to make you cum so intensely.
“ka-aa-ki—” you can’t even spit his name out, your name the same mess on his plump lips, caught so hard between sharp teeth he worries he’ll split the thin skin. all his muscles tense, his abdomen clenching low on his stomach, the veins stretching along the underside of his cock throbbing with the need to join you in the throes of pleasure, to cover your cunt in milk white cum you desperately tried to squeeze from the silicone.
your name is a choked mantra tumbling from his lips, over and over again, dark crimson eyes rolling into the back of his skull the longer you bounced on the toy, pinching sensitive nipples between your slippery, soapy fingers, dragging your orgasm out as long as you could, as long as he would, until your knees were weak and your couldn't even manage to dumbly spit out his name anymore.
“fuck.” he damn near whines, a mess of cum covering his fingers, coating his knuckles as he kept fucking his fist through the waves of his own orgasm, shivering even with the hot water running down his body, cleaning his hand even as he continued to stroke his cock, relaxing his muscles as his toes still curled, his knuckles stark white against the tile.
his head fell forward onto the cooling tile, a temporary relief for the haziness swirling around in the steam.
shit, how was he meant to look you in the eyes after this?
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© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost or recommend my work on other platforms or translate my works, i do not give permission for my works to be bound and sold. 18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact.
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silverhairsimp · 3 months
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who's gonna take care of you? k. bakugou
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I am sicker than sick and couldn't sleep last night so here's some bakugou fluff.
Pairing & CW: Bakugou x f!reader. Reader and Bakugou have two kids. Brief mentions of pregnancy from Mitsuki (Reader is not actually pregnant). pure, sickly sweet fluff.
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Katsuki looks at the clock hanging above the kitchen sink, 7:24am. Usually you’d have been up for at least a half hour by now, maybe more. The kids have to be to school at 8:30, it’s only a 12 minute drive, but they like to get there early and play with their friends before their day of learning starts. He looks at the two of them sitting at the counter, digging into their fresh pancakes and waffles with a variety of fruits. They were similar in a lot of ways, but your daughter refuses to eat pancakes, the same goes with your son and waffles. And what kind of number one dad would The Bakugou Katsuki be if he didn’t make his brats happy?
“You two stay here and finish eating— gonna go check on your ma’,” he calls out to them before heading down the hall, only to stop with a had on the doorframe to look back at them. “And no eatin’ spoonfuls’a syrup this time! That shi— crap’ll give you diabetes.” 
The two of them laugh at their dads empty threat, knowing they’ll at least sneak one or two spoonfuls before he gets back. 
He has an office day today, full of paperwork and unfished reports that need to be submitted by the end of the week. He’s been working overtime, which means you have too. Working overtime at your own job and taking care of the kids when he gets home too late or leaves too early for work. 
“Baby—“ he calls out when he pushes open your bedroom door. Your cheeks are flushed red, your brows are knit together, you’ve got a mound of blankets on you, yet your feet are sticking out from the bottom. “Hey, y’doing okay?” He asks as he gets closer, sitting next to your sleeping form on the bed when he reaches a hand out to cup your cheek, followed by placing the back of his hand to your forehead. “Jesus babe, you’re burnin’ up. Might be running hotter than I normally do…” 
His words are laced with concern as he heads to your shared bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it with as cold of water he can get before wringing it out. For good measure, he grabs the thermometer and to confirm his suspicions.
“Open up for me, baby.” He brushes his thumb over your cheek and your eyes finally open when you bring your hand up to touch the cold cloth on your forehead. “‘Ts cold…” you mumble and he slips the thermometer underneath your tongue. “Yeah and you’re hot—“ he waits for the thermometer to finish rereading before he adds: “101.9 to be exact.” 
You try to sit up, “I’m fine…”but the pressure in your head is too much so you flop back down into the pillows. “I don’t know what year you think I was born, but I know what fine is. And you, are not fine.” 
“But the kids— they have school, you have work— I have things to do around the house.” You try to protest in between a fit of coughs, but he plants an arm against the bed, palm down at your side caging you in. “you know the hag— my mom,” he corrects when you give him the glare, “she loves taking them to school. Eijiro too. I could call either one and they’d drop ‘em off. And with work, that’s one of the perks’a bein’ your own boss.” 
He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek, trying to hide the wince at how warm your skin is. Gods you must feel like shit. “Lemme call my mom—“ he steps out of the room and gently closes the door, calling in a favor to the woman who always saves his ass. 
‘Yeah, y/n sick, real sick. Need someone to drop off the beats at school. What? Morning sickness? No she’s not pregnant again. She’s sick sick. Got’a fever of almost 102. Yeah, they ate. Yes, lunches packed. Ugh— what kinda father do you think I— mmgh. Thanks ma. They’ll be ready for ya.’
He comes back in the room slight shake to his head as he thinks back to the conversation he just had with his mom. Your youngest is 6 and she’s been itching for another grand baby, but that’s too bad. She’s got two good ones to love on anyway. “Moms comin’ to pick em up in 15.” 
The two of you can hear the padding of feet running down the hall and your two replicas appear in the door frame. 
“Mommy what’s wrong? Did you catch a bug?” Your 8 year old son asks you as he pushes his hips to the bed. He may have his fathers eyes but he’s got your color hair and the sweetest personality to match. 
“Ew! Why would mommy catch a bug!! That’s so yucky!” Your daughter chimes. She’s got that ash blonde hair to match her fathers and definitely gets his personality. 
“Yeah, squirt, mama’s not feeling great so your Gramma Mitsuki is gonna take you to school.”
“Katsuki��� you really shouldn’t have asked your mom to come all the way here.” 
“You say all the way here like she doesn’t live 8 minutes down the road.” He smirks at you, knowing damn well she wasn’t gonna miss the opportunity to be involved in your kids’ lives. 
“Daddy, why can’t we stay and take care of mommy like she takes care of us when we’re sick?” Your boy asks with those gorgeous ruby red eyes peering down at you. “You guys have to stay in school and get good grades. You wanna have your own agency and be the number one hero like your daddy don’t you?” You smile at the two of them and lift your hand off the bed to cup their cheeks one at a time. 
Your daughter flexes her little muscles and grits her teeth. “Yeah mommy! We’ll get strong so we can take good care of you some day!” 
Each of your kiddos leans in to place a kiss to your cheek, it’s no use trying to stop them either. They’re both stubborn, just like you and Katsuki. 
“Go get cleaned up before Gramma gets here— and don’t think I can’t smell the syrup on those sticky fingers, you little shits!” 
It’s no use trying to protest the language when you hear the fit of laughter and screams as they run back down the hall. 
Katsuki gets up to make sure they’re heading out to wash up and grab their school bags while he makes another call to the agency, letting Mina know he won’t be in. 
You’ve nearly fallen back asleep by the time he comes back with a hot bowl of homemade soup, a freshly squeezed cup of orange juice, a ginger shot and two pieces of toast. “They’re right ya know. You’re like super woman to them— and even she needs help sometimes.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and turns on the tv for some back ground noise before he grabs his computer and sits next to you in bed. 
“Katsuki. You’re gonna get sick if you stay here—“ you try to protest and he just smiles and puts the cold rag on your forehead. “Yeah… and when super man needs help; I know you’ll be there too..” He lands a fat one right on your lips and smiles. The two of you share everything together. Even the cooties…
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bethelighthalazia · 28 days
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Terrifying
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Summary:  Your gentle giant of a boyfriend Yunho doesn't always know how strong he is. This is proven during a fight between you two when he throws his guitar.
Genre: angst
Pairing: bf!Yunho X fem!reader
Word Count:  1944
Warnings: mean Yunho, arguing, swearing
networks: @newworldnet
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© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.
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It was late in the evening when your boyfriend of two years arrived home from practice. You had cooked his favorite for him and then waited for his return. In the morning, he had said his schedule would end at 6 pm today. Now, it was almost 11 pm. The table set, you had waited patiently, but when Yunho didn't come home at 8, you resorted to the sofa, curling up on it with Yunho's hoodie he left laying there in the morning.
You didn't notice the keys jingle in the lock, nor did you hear your boyfriend enter the shared apartment. You fell asleep only a few minutes after you had laid down on the sofa and were now deeply asleep. Yunho only let out a tired sigh when he noticed you, he didn't mean to be this late, dance practice took longer than he had hoped. Seeing the set table, he then quietly put the food away into the fridge, so the two of you could eat it the next day. Contemplating whether to move you to the shared bed or leave you on the sofa, Yunho's decision is made the moment you shuffle. He gently picked you up and then set you down on the king sized bed in the bedroom, covering you with a blanket and then left to take a shower.
The next morning, you woke up cuddled against Yunho's large frame, a soft smile on your face, but then you remember the last evening, he again came home much later than he had told you. How many times did he promise you to be home early, but then break this promise. But you never said anything, because you knew that he works hard, it's normal to have late work and practice as an idol. You know that. Then why did a tear steal its way from your eyes? Why did it upset you that he came home this late last night?
Because it was your anniversary. Because it's the second time this year that he forgot such an important date. First your birthday, now your anniversary. 
You tried to be quiet, to suppress the sob that built up in your chest, but his strong arms around you didn't let you leave the bed. Swallowing hard, you tried to shuffle out of his grip, but this movement woke him up too, causing you to wince mentally.
“Morning, love…” He hummed with his usual sleepy voice which, on any other day, would have made you smile, but today it just brought another tear from your eyes. You didn't turn around, just whispered “Morning Yuyu” and curled up. This actually made him frown,you usually would smile at him, turn around to kiss him and then cuddle and try to make him stay in bed with you. “You have schedules today, you should get ready soon.” A look at the alarm clock on your nightstand confirms your words, but Yunho shook his head behind you. “We don't have any schedules today and the next two days, so we can spend the day together.” 
Normally you'd be happy about those words, but this morning, you just couldn't. “Okay, let's do that. Are you hungry?” Even your voice lacked the usual enthusiasm, even though you're trying to be happy to have your boyfriend home and for yourself for three days. And of course Yunho would notice this, turning you around, so he could look into your face while talking. The sight of your tears lets him stop and frown though. “Are- why are you crying, love? Are you in pain?” His voice filled with concern, he doesn't even realize that he's the reason you're crying this morning. 
“Y- you really forgot, hm?” It's a simple question and while you swallow down the disappointment and hurt, you manage to give him a little, almost crooked smile. “It's okay though, you had a hard week, it's not your fault, Yuyu. We can celebrate it next year.” Those words cause his eyes to go wide. The dinner he had put away, you on the sofa, it slowly falls in place. It had been your anniversary and he really did forget about it. 
Although, after only a few seconds, his shocked expression turns into a frown, then into something that looks angry or annoyed. “You know that my work will always be like this, y/n. I have to practice and sometimes it makes me come home late. You knew this from the beginning.” He said, leaning back a bit to look at you, which leaves you with confusion. 
“I know that, Yuyu, that's why I said it's okay, I don't-” “Then why are you acting like I'm the bad guy now?” He cut you off, which is unusual for him. He always listened to you, never interrupting you when you spoke before. Swallowing to not start to cry in front of him now, you just nod and get up from the bed, but he grabbed your wrist. Not the usual gentle way though, his grip was a bit harsher this time.
“Hey, we’re talking, I asked you something, y/n.” Frozen in place, you just stay at the edge of the bed, swallowing down a sob before you try to answer confidently, but your words only come out in a whispered voice. “I didn't, Yuyu…please, your grip hurts.” You didn't look at Yunho, somehow scared of him at this moment, but thankfully he lets go of your wrist. The shuffling behind you caused you to wince, but he had turned his back to you when he sat on the edge of his side of the bed, so you quickly made your way to the bathroom. When the door closes behind you, you could hear a loud thump, he had slammed his hand on the nightstand with a little annoyed growl.
When you came out, he wasn't in the bedroom anymore, so you made your way to the living room, where Yunho sat on the sofa, playing a game on his console. He still looked angry, so you let him be and walked to the kitchen area, where you saw all the food from last night thrown away. “Yuyu, did you-” You started, turning to leave the kitchen, but you almost ran into him. “Why did you throw it away?” It was a simple question from you, but for some reason, it flipped something inside him, an annoyed look on his face again.
“Another thing to nag me about? It's not really edible, so I threw it out. Hand me that water, so I can go back to my game.” Nag him? You never nagged him about anything, where was this coming from now? “Yuyu, I-” “Yuyu, I. You what? Looking for another reason to cry about?” He mocked, pushing past you to grab a bottle of water from the fridge before leaving the kitchen again, leaving you standing there, wondering what was wrong with him today.
You didn't know why he was like this, but you didn't like him talking to you like this, when you supported him all the time and never complained about anything to him. After a few moments, you follow him, swallowing the lump in your throat and stand in front of the TV now. You could hear the sound of his character dying in the game, but you didn't care. That is, until he stood in one move and started yelling. 
“What the fuck, y/n?? You just ruined hours of playing!” It's the first time ever that he's yelling at you and it hurts. “I don't care, Yunho! What's wrong with you today?” You're not yelling, the shakiness of your voice present as you try to speak up, tears already welling up in your eyes, but you don't cry. Yet.
“What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? You wake up and cry about me being late, then you nag at me. Don't you think you should be happy that I'm working hard?!” You never before witnessed him this angry, and for the first time in the years you know him, you're scared of Yunho. “You know how fucking hard it is to always go to work, let everyone walk over me while I'm always nice to everyone? Be told that I have to practice more, to be perfect?!”
With only a few steps, he walks over to grab his guitar, holding it up. “And then, I come home later because I did fucking practice, and it's not good enough! No, my girlfriend has to cry about me forgetting to be home in time for dinner.” “It's not about the dinner, Yunho! I told you it's okay, why are you yelling at me now?” You tried to talk back, your voice isn't nearly as loud and stable as you had hoped though. “Why am i- maybe because I'm fuckin tired of you making me to be the bad guy here?! If it's okay and just dinner, why do you have to cry about it?!” With those words, he lets out his built up anger, throwing his guitar at the TV. With you standing near it, you flinch, eyes widen and when both things break and pieces split off and hit you, you can't hold back the sobs. 
The moment Yunho threw the guitar, he realized what he did, his eyes widened in shock, real shock this time. Not only about your sobs, but also because he hurt you. All the anger subsided immediately and he took a careful step towards you, but you just flinched and stumbled backwards. “Y/n, I- I'm sorry, I didn't-” He whispered, his voice a stark contrast against the yelling only moments earlier. You knew he meant this, but you're terrified, dropping onto the floor in a sitting position as sobs shake your body and tears just run free. You didn't even register the pain yet from where the little pieces of debris had hurt you, nor did you care about them bleeding a bit.
“Please, let me- let me take a look…you're hurt, love-” You heard his voice, but only shook your head no, still crying. Letting out a heavy sigh followed by an own sob, Yunho quickly reached for his phone, calling his best friend and putting him on speaker the moment Mingi picked up. “Yunho? Yah, why do you wake me?” Mingi sounded as if he just woke up, but when he heard your quiet crying through the phone, he sat up in his bed, fully awake. “Is y/n crying? Wha-” “Yes, she is…can you come here? Right now?” It didn't need any more words for Mingi to hang up and hurry to rush into the apartment not even five minutes later. The apartment was not far from the dorms, which came in handy this time. However, when Mingi walked into the living room, he froze in place, seeing the shattered TV, the broken guitar and you sitting on the floor, crying and hurt.
He quickly stepped over to you, noticing you flinch when Yunho made the tiniest of movements. Mingi knew that Yunho always bottles up his anger and sometimes it just has to burst out, this time, it seems to have happened around you, which Yunho always tried to avoid. “Hey, it's okay y/nnie, I'm here. He won't hurt you, okay?” Mingi whispered, gently checking your wounds, which are merely little scratches and nothing too deep. Then, he picked you up to carry you to the bedroom, gathered some of your things before just carrying you out of the apartment and took you to the dorms with him. 
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taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson, @hotteokkay, @minkiliciouss, @bunnliix, @gong-fourz
(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)
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Bakugou serves as a secondary alarm clock in the mornings.
He’s usually up an hour before you, freshly showered with coffee brewing when your first alarm goes off and you roll over with a groan to turn it off.
20 minutes later, he’s waking you up with gentle fingers through your hair, kneeling by your side of the bed and waiting for your eyes to flutter open to tell you to get up.
You whine when he leaves, missing his touch but it’s not long before sleep is reclaiming you.
The next time he stirs you, his teeth are freshly brushed and his hair mostly dry, and he’s far less gentle. His heavy form lands on your hips as he straddles you, leaning down to press firm kisses over your face and shoulders, his fingers pressing into your waist.
You mumble promises about getting up, and he relents, pressing one last kiss to your neck before he’s gone again, grumbling under his breath about how you’ll be the death of him.
The final time he comes in, you hear him coming, still in bed but not quite asleep. The blanket is thrown off you suddenly and then warm hands wrap around your ankles. A second later you’re being yanked down the bed, a surprised yelp escaping you as your eyes fly open.
He pulls you down far enough that your thighs cage in his thin waist, chuckling at your expression when you gape up at him. He looks perfect in his hero gear, mask hanging loosely around his neck and his gauntlets no doubt waiting by the door.
He bends in half to capture your mouth with his in a kiss that’s more than enough to wake you up, and then he’s pulling back, your feet hitting the floor as he takes you with him.
He gives you one last fleeting kiss that has you wanting more and chasing his mouth before he’s disentangling himself from you.
He takes in the pout on your face and chuckles, forehead pressed against yours as he quietly warns you he started your shower and you should get going before the hot water runs out.
And as a reward for keeping you on time in the morning, he makes sure to land a swift smack on your ass as you pass, laughing when you curse him and disappear into the bathroom, rubbing the handprint.
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ryukatters · 5 months
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Thinking about Satoru not letting you leave through the door without kissing him, insisting that you pay the “boyfriend tax.”
You’re late.
Like really, really late.
You’ve decided to pin the blame on your sweet (but annoying) boyfriend who thought it’d be a great idea to turn off all of your morning alarms while you were fast asleep. When you jolted awake, asking what time it was, you were shut down by a heavy arm pinned across your chest, accompanied by a pout that begged you for ‘5 more minutes’ of cuddles. Three times.
Unlike him, you can’t afford to be late— lest you want to be fired. You ignore any and all bargains to quit your job, busying yourself by getting ready for the day as quickly as possible.
You’re practically throwing yourself at your front door before you’re being dragged back by an arm around your waist. You let out a yelp as you’re spun around to face the perpetrator. Satoru merely laughs as you click your teeth in annoyance.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” He asks, the grip on your waist tightening as you try to wriggle out of his grasp conspicuously.
“Don’t think so,” you answer hurriedly, trying your best to pry your boyfriend’s hands off of you. “I gotta go, ‘Toru. ‘m already late.”
“Ah-ah,” he tuts, the hands that were innocently on your waist now resting on your ass. “Need to pay your taxes before you leave.” He punctuates his sentence with a rather harsh (albeit playful) slap to your ass.
You roll your eyes, reaching up on your tippy toes, waiting for Satoru to close the distance between you. He takes a different approach all together and lifts you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist.
It’s only then that Satoru brings his lips to meet yours— a medley of sweet kisses followed by more sensual ones that should be considered way too inappropriate to be sharing first thing in the morning.
You pull away first, tapping his shoulder to signal him to do the same. He chases your lips subconsciously as you move back, breaths intermingling.
“Have I paid back all my dues yet?” You ask with a teasing smile.
Satoru returns the smile tenfold. “Nah,” he laughs, setting you back down before he’s helping you put your shoes on. “Don’t think you’ll ever be out of debt, honestly. But it’ll do, for now.”
He charges you one last ‘boyfriend tax’ before letting you walk out the door.
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kitkatscabinet · 6 months
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Don't feed him he'll come back (2)
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simon riley x neighbour! reader
summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.
word count: 1.3k
A/N: Simon's POV of events. Find part 1 here. Part 3 here 18+ nsfw themes
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Simon’s not entirely sure what to make of his pretty neighbour who fattens him up with their cooking and has a penchant for bad jokes that might outshine even him. From the moment he’d caught you staring with wide eyes he’d expected wariness, or outright fear, those were the typical responses. He hadn’t expected you to force a tray of pasta bake into his hands and then promptly disappear before he could get a word in. 
It’s a bit ridiculous, but the random act of kindness set his teeth on edge, enough that he’d even suspected foul play briefly. Hunger and logic eventually won out over his paranoia and Simon devoured the tray embarrassingly fast. He’s not quite sure how to face you so he simply leaves the tray outside your door and assumes that will be that. 
Except it’s not. For some reason you’ve taken it upon yourself to feed him, leaving an array of dishes from dinners to snacks. Apart from an initial note inquiring into allergies you adapt his diet on experience, taking note of what he does and doesn’t seem to enjoy. 
He doesn’t know how to get you to stop, nor does he really want you to. Not when he’s become entirely too reliant on you feeding him, eagerly awaiting each new dish with the excitement of a hyperactive toddler. 
Price says he’s got a crush, which is just absurd, the only thing he knows about you is your name. And that your left cheek has a dimple when you smile, and that you love your cat more than anything and that-
He doesn’t have a crush. 
Then the elevator breaks. It breaks with only you and him inside and instead of panicking like he expected, you only seemed mildly annoyed for a few seconds before you turned to him with a conspiratorial grin. “A bear walks into a bar and says give me a whiskey and… cola. Why the big pause? Asks the bartender. The bear shrugged. I’m not sure, I was born with them.”
Simon’s a little floored and it’s probably only his shock that prevents him from laughing because dammit, that was better than some of his. What shocks him even more is that you aren’t deterred from his silence. If anything, you seem to take it as a personal challenge and your eyes glint in determination. 
It’s both a mixture of the jokes and you’re adorable determination that finally pulls a chuckle from his lips and Simon will forever remember the way your face absolutely lit up at the noise. 
It’s not until he provides a joke of his own before ducking into the safety of his apartment that he briefly thinks Price may have been onto something. He staunchly pushes that thought away but then you start leaving jokes with the food and he has to admit he’s in a little bit of trouble. 
You wrangle his number from him (not that he resisted very hard) and then you wrangle him into your apartment and you make him watch as you flit around your kitchen in order to feed him. 
His next deployment comes at exactly the right time and Simon is prepared to spend the months away getting over you. Except this doesn’t happen because you send him a joke every day without fail, not even deterred when he rarely responds. 
You send a selfie of you and your cat and Simon stares far longer than is appropriate. He’s dreamt of you before, both innocently and not so. For some reason, the distance makes this worse and Simon wakes hard and aching for you more often than not. 
(Johnny walks in on him with his hand in his pants staring at a picture of you once and neither of them can look at each other for days. He thinks this is preferable to the shit-eating grins Johnny throws his way now.)
For the first time in his life, Simon’s desperate to get back from deployment to the empty apartment he barely considers his home. The empty white walls and space not seeming as depressing when he knows you’re waiting for him just across the hall. Waiting to fill the dark void in his chest that grows when he loses access to your smile. 
For the first time in his life, Simon doesn’t want to leave his apartment. Each time Price calls him away from your presence starts to weigh on his soul more and more. It’s getting harder and harder to stop being Simon, to put on the mask and be the Ghost when all he can think about is you. 
It all comes to a head nearly nine months after he'd initially met you. As much as he tries to ignore the way his heart sings in your presence and aches in your absence Simon can’t really deny how he feels about you anymore. 
You pull him from his dangerous train of thoughts when you plop down next to him on the couch. Not exactly a new move in of itself but even then he can’t help the way he shivers at the feel of your arm against his skin. 
If asked Simon wouldn’t be able to tell you a single plot point of the movie you’d put on, not when his mind was running a mile a minute and he was trying not to smell your hair like a creep. 
He tenses a little when you tip against him but doesn’t push you away. Instead, he can’t help but smile softly down at you as he watches you fall deeper and deeper into the clutches of sleep. Awe and adoration in his eyes as one of his hands lightly stroked your cheek, his other arm wrapping around you to pull you closer to his chest. 
You’d wormed your way into his heart months ago with all your stupid jokes and your insistence on looking after him. Not once had you ever asked for anything in return, you even seemed offended at the implication. 
He wasn’t stupid enough to let you in on his feelings, not when every time he left you could end up being his last. Simon had once accidentally caught you crying over your brother, a soldier like him, though not as lucky. Your brother was dead and buried and Simon saw the toll it took on you years later even when you tried to hide it. 
You were the sun. You were light and everything that was good in this world, saw the good in him, and Simon refused to be the potential reason that light was snuffed out. 
He wouldn’t do that to you. But Simon wasn’t completely selfless, so he held you in his arms as he slept, letting himself imagine a life where you could be together. A life where he got to come home to you and your stupid fat cat, his apartment no longer in use and he’d hold you just like this as you slept. 
This wasn’t that life, but Simon still let himself pretend it was, just for a little bit. Because Simon couldn’t deny it any longer, he loved you, was in love with you. And for that, he had to leave before he ruined you.
Tags: @cooliofango @innercollectivecomputer
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claudemblems · 5 months
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A Kiss to End All Doubt | Albert Moriarty
Summary: When you agreed to tag along with the Moriarty brothers to a grand ball, the last thing you expected was to receive a noble's offer of marriage. Thankfully, Albert plays the part of your lover well, perhaps a little too well for his affectionate words to be fake...
Content: SFW. Fem!Reader. 3,723 words. Pining. Soooo much romantic tension. Albert is a flirt and no one is surprised.
Notes: I have been writing this fic for what feels like forever BUT IT'S FINALLY FINISHED :3 I'm so excited to finally give this to you. I hope you enjoy it 💖 I may also add an epilogue if there's an interest for one...🤭
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Did Albert Moriarty, one of the many faces of the Lord of Crime, truly not have the slightest idea of the effect he had on you?
It was silly to even fathom that a man of his stature could be so oblivious, but you couldn’t help but start to wonder once he started giving your flushed cheeks and wide eyes a quizzical look.
That, or he was playing coy with you, which wouldn’t be all that surprising coming from him. He’d long since mastered the art of making noble ladies go weak in the knees.
But that was a skill he’d acquired out of pure necessity. If he had things his way, he’d refuse to give the stuck up women of the nobility the time of day. Unfortunately, he had a role to play in all of his brother’s plans, and so he continued flirting with the noble ladies just long enough to leave them wanting more.
You, on the other hand, were no noble. In fact, you had no good fortune, distinguished education, or marriageable prospects to speak of. Truly, you were nothing but a mere face hidden amongst the shadows, which was perfect for an assistant to the Lord of Crime.
You’d begun to empathize with Albert’s disdain for these royal functions, mainly the lavish balls he and his brothers had little choice but to attend. It was important for them to keep up appearances as a well-rounded noble family who knew how to mingle with the upper-class, whether they enjoyed doing so or not. While they seemed to have gotten used to it for the most part, it proved to be quite the difficult adjustment for you. Thankfully, Albert had patiently taught you the ins and outs of noble life, giving you lessons on small talk and etiquette whenever time permitted.
However, he hadn’t yet taught you how to handle a nobleman’s advances.
“You must be Lady [Name],” the man greeted, holding out his hand for you to take. You briefly glanced towards Albert, taking his nod as a sign to follow through with the gesture. A kiss was placed onto your hand before the man let go, stepping back to better admire the exquisite sights around him. “It’s quite a splendid ball, isn’t it? There’s so many well-mannered and intelligent guests in our midst, such as you, young Lord Albert.”
“Lord Darnley, you are far too kind,” Albert said, placing a hand over his heart and bowing. “I ought to be extending the compliments to you. Your presence here is most welcome, as well as that of your entourage. Would the girl you brought with you happen to be your little sister, Lady Georgina?”
“Ah, I see you’ve made sure to memorize the names of all the guests! Indeed, she insisted on joining me, and no matter what I said, she refused to take no for an answer!” Darnley bellowed in laughter, briefly drawing the attention of the other guests nearby.
“She already seems to be quite the free spirit. I’m sure she has a bright future ahead of her.”
“If you’re so interested in my dear Georgina, I would be more than willing to sit down and discuss a potential marriage between the two of you.”
You swore you saw a flash of disgust appear in Albert’s eyes, but he simply smiled brightly at Darnley, careful that his emotions did not look fake or contrived. “While your offer is certainly generous, I have no plans of marriage at the moment. I’m afraid I’m already plenty busy with my service in the royal army.”
“Ah, what a shame,” Lord Darnley sighed, but his disappointment quickly turned to anticipation when his gaze once again fell on you. Your stomach lurched at the look in his eyes, but you tried to retain your composure, copying Albert’s mannerisms by offering a surface-level smile.
“Lady [Name], I am supposing you are not yet married if you’re attending this function with the Moriartys.”
“That would be correct, my good sir. How astute of you to notice.”
Lord Darnley grinned at the news like a hunter mere moments away from ensnaring this prey. “Well then, my lady, is there anyone that has asked for your hand yet?”
Goosebumps ran down your arms as you swallowed thickly. Anyone with a right mind knew exactly where this conversation was heading.
“I…well…” Should you tell the truth? Should you lie? But then who would you say had expressed a desire in marrying you? “It’s…complicated.”
“So, that would mean no formal question has been posed then, correct?”
“...Correct.”
You heard Albert’s feet shift next to you, on guard for whatever preposterous idea this nobleman could come up with next.
“Well, it’s certainly not good for a lady of your standing to be without a husband. I, myself, am quite the romantic, and I believe a courting period fosters a genuine love between both parties involved. If you have no one currently vying for your hand, perhaps you’d offer me the chance to earn it.”
No. No. On so many levels, no.
But this wasn’t about you—your happiness or married life did not come before the liberation of London. Whatever the brothers asked of you, you would adhere to their words, even if it meant having to be stuck with a man such as…this. Though you knew they’d never even entertain the thought of offering you up to some man who cared only for your beauty and status and nothing for your heart. If you were to refuse Darnley’s advances, at the least, you were confident the Moriartys would respect your decision.
Even so, you didn’t want to cause any more trouble for them. If you couldn’t agree to the idea of marriage, perhaps a date or two would suffice, right?
Just the thought made you feel sick. 
“Well, what do you say, my lady? Will you allow me the pleasure of courting you?”
You knew you had to keep up appearances. You couldn’t allow for cracks to show in the perfect and amicable facade the Moriartys had carefully crafted. You knew that well, and yet…
This was a proposal that not even death itself could bring you to accept.
“I’m sorry, my lord, but I must sincerely refuse.”
Lord Darnley stared at you in alarm. “Come again? You didn’t just say no to my advances, did you?”
Your heart rate quickened as his words grew heated, and in that moment you wanted nothing more than to take off and hide somewhere safe and quiet in the manor’s garden, away from other people who might come up with even more ridiculous propositions.
“It’s just as you heard, my lord. I must decline.”
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as Lord Darnley stared straight into your eyes, not blinking for several long moments. Your hands had begun to shake as you feared that you’d just begun tarnishing the reputation of the Moriarty family. Truly, there were fewer things more terrifying than a nobleman who felt he’d been insulted, and the consequences for such an offense would be nothing short of dire.
“Lady [Name], you are in no place to refuse my offer. You said yourself that no other man has even brought up the idea of marriage to you! Are you truly so brazen that you would reject the prospects of a life in union with mine? We all know who makes the decisions around here, and they’re certainly not made by women—!”
“My good sir, I believe you’ve said quite enough.”
A small gasp left your lips as Albert sneaked a hand around your waist, still carefully holding his glass of wine in the other. You searched his face for an answer as to what he was scheming, but he simply smiled—a true one this time—wordlessly reassuring you that all would be well.
“You see, Lady [Name] may not have received an offer of marriage as of yet, but that is only because I have been quite busy protecting our beloved country. I wish to propose when I am able to be at home more often and thus can fulfill my duties as a devoted husband to my wife. So I must politely ask that you rescind your offer, lest you make yourself seem as though you chase after taken women.”
Propose? Husband?
If you were afraid of tainting the Moriarty image, Albert clearly didn’t share your concerns.
“Taken? Why, I—! You’re bluffing, Lord Albert! You’re not planning on marrying this woman!”
“And what has brought you to that incorrect conclusion?”
“If that were the case, you would have brought it up the moment I asked if she were single!”
“To be fair, you asked if she’d received an offer for marriage, not if she was currently available to court.”
You could practically see the steam coming out of Lord Darnley’s ears, his face growing redder with each passing minute. He was still unconvinced, and for good reason, too, but you weren’t about to let Albert’s kindness go to waste.
You placed a hand on Albert’s shoulder, smiling up at him as he redirected his full attention to you. “It’s true, my lord. My affections have been reciprocated by my dear Albert, and I am patiently waiting for him to ask me to marry him. It will be a proposal I shall readily accept.”
Darnley scoffed, a hand placed over his heart in disbelief. “And you had the gall not to tell me when I’d begun to question you? Either you’re a terrible liar, or you’re just hoping to humiliate me in front of all these guests!”
“I would never dream of deceiving or insulting you, my lord. I should have made my relationship status clear to you earlier. Please forgive my carelessness.”
“I still think this is some elaborate hoax the both of you are trying to pull off. If not to tarnish my good name, then to convince every noble here that you’re worth the status bestowed on you at birth.” Lord Darnley swiped a fresh glass of wine off the tray of one of the waiters walking by, the man watching in horror as the lord downed all of the liquid in one gulp. His cheeks had started to take on a flushed hue from the great amount of alcohol he’d consumed that night, and with the way things were going, he was sure to be drunk by the end of it. “Perhaps, Lady [Name],” Darnley continued, a lopsided smirk forming on his face, “you’ve been lying about your social status, and you’re hoping that your marriage to Lord Albert will secure you a place in the upper class.”
Anger surged through you at his utterly ridiculous theory. Darnley had unknowingly gotten one fact right: you were a nobody. When you’d been taken in by the Moriarty family, you had nothing to your name but pen, paper, and the clothes on your back. But you knew one thing for sure: you had worth as a human being, and no one, noble or otherwise, would be able to change that.
And marrying a noble for status? What a laughable suggestion. As if you’d stoop so low just for some so-called “honor” among the elite.
“Well, dear sir,” you began, discreetly hiding a smirk behind your gloved hand, “I had no idea you were so foolish as to even come up with such an inconceivable thought. I once held you in high regard as I’ve heard many within the nobility sing your praises, but your current behavior is quite unbecoming of a person of your stature.”
You heard Albert try, and fail, to stifle a laugh next to you. You quietly breathed out a sigh of relief to see that he’d chosen not to reprimand your strong words. If anything, he seemed eager to encourage them.
As Lord Darnley frantically signaled for a waiter to bring him more wine, Albert took the opportunity to lean down next to your ear, whispering a simple yet heart-pounding question, “[Name], would it be all right with you to play further into these roles of enchanted lovers?”
Your breath caught in your throat, butterflies beginning to form in your stomach. “Of course,” you said. If only you knew how I truly felt, you wouldn’t even need to ask.
He smiled down at you, a sight that only stirred up the butterflies even more, and pulled you closer against him. Meanwhile, his eyes bored into Lord Darnley’s frame, darkening with every passing moment. If there was no one else in that ballroom, you had no doubt Albert would have leapt at the chance to get rid of him.
When Lord Darnley had finished downing another glass of wine, his fiery countenance returned to you and Albert. “You both are frauds,” he spat. “Everyone else here might be too dim-witted to figure it out, but I’ll make them aware that you’re not the upstanding moral characters you believe that you are.”
“It’s a shame to hear such vile thoughts coming from your own mouth, good sir,” Albert sighed. “But if I must be honest, I don’t care what any noble in this room thinks of me or the house in which I rule over.”
“Oh? And why is that, good sir?”
“Because,” Albert answered, turning his body towards yours, his visage noticeably softening when his focus returned to you, “the only person I want to please is the woman I adore. Not one person in the nobility is worthy of praise or merit—no one but her alone.”
Setting aside his glass, Albert gingerly took your hand in his own, meeting your eyes to silently ask for your permission. At your nod of approval, he lifted your fingertips to his lips, placing a gentle and almost reverent kiss against them.
“I love her,” he said, his sweet gaze reaching the very depths of your soul, “and when the time is right, I will make her mine.”
His words were like a match igniting the fire blazing in your heart, the flames fed by your deep affections for him, growing with every beat that thumped in your chest.
Your breath caught in your throat as his hand came to rest against your cheek, his touch so light yet so dizzying, more intoxicating than any wine you’d had that night. 
Albert searched your eyes as all the feelings you’d tried to keep at bay finally came pouring in like waves. You were sure he could see it all: the admiration, the yearning, the love you’d kept locked away. But somehow he’d managed to find the matching key, the truth you’d been hiding for all these years finally at his reach.
His fingers traveled along your cheek and down to your jaw, this thumb tracing patterns against your skin. You were still dazed from his words to Darnley, but you brought yourself to meet Albert’s gaze once more, curious to see what truths you could uncover in his own expression.
And you wished you hadn’t, because when you saw the affection so clearly present in them, you wanted nothing more than to throw yourself into his arms and kiss him until the night turned into day.
Albert wasn’t oblivious, and you knew it. Whatever people thought of him as—a genius, a young prodigy, a man of great knowledge—his ability to read people was beyond the average person’s comprehension. And you knew when he’d finally figured out what the person he’d been surveying was hiding. His lips would quirk upwards ever so slightly, the dimples on his face just beginning to show, and he’d cock his head to the side, pleased with his findings.
And that was exactly how he was looking at you.
You’d placed your heart out in plain view of his observant eyes, and he’d figured you out. But now that he knew of your feelings for him, what was he planning to do with them?
Albert’s thumb drifted from your jaw down your lips, careful not to brush off the lipstick staining them. He stared at them for several moments, deep in thought, before he returned his eyes to yours, a single question hidden within them.
May I?
Already breathless, you squeezed his hand once, closing your eyes as Albert leaned in painstakingly slowly, every nerve in your body alight with anticipation. This was the moment you’d only been able to imagine in dreams, on nights where you sat wordlessly under the stars, silently wishing upon them in vain. They couldn’t grant you your desires. They couldn’t give you everything you ever wanted. You were the only one with the power to seize your opportunity and make your own wish come true.
And as Albert’s lips finally fell on yours, you smiled.
Your greatest wish was being granted right before your very eyes.
His lips tasted faintly of wine, and the subdued scent of his cologne still lingered on his collar. Combined with the warm and comforting touch of his hand cupping your face, your senses were overwhelmed in the most wonderful of ways. It felt as if you’d begun to float, brought into a fairy tale-esque trance where the entire world grew still except for you and Albert.
Time had stalled to allow you this moment of pure, undeniable bliss that not even the corrupt powers of this world could take away from you.
With his lips still on yours, Albert’s hand snaked further around your waist, gently pulling you closer against him. You practically had no room left between the two of you, and so in a moment of boldness, you placed one hand on his shoulder, the other on his chest, right above his heart. Even through his suit, you could feel it beating wildly.
It only made you wonder: did he truly mean what he’d said earlier? Did he really harbor such affection for you? Did he really intend…to make you his?
Before you could ponder anymore, Albert finally pulled away, cheeks faintly dusted with rose. He appeared somewhat dazed himself, but he kept his composure, still well aware of where the two of you were at the moment.
But this time when he turned to Darnley, he smirked, practically beaming from head to toe with delight as he spoke. “Well, Lord Darnley, do you believe us now?”
If looks could kill, both of you would have succumbed to that man’s rage.
Darnley’s hands gripped his wine glass so tightly that it shattered onto the floor, the remnants of wine staining his once perfectly polished suit. Other nobles stopped their conversations and turned to him upon hearing the commotion, a few of them even pulling out handkerchiefs.
“Sir, let me get you a new glass,” a waiter spoke, holding his hand out to take the broken one from him. But Lord Darnley was already fuming, and he shoved the waiter to the side, smashing the rest of the wine glass against the floor.
“You will pay for this,” he snarled. Sending you one final glare, he turned on his heel, marching out of the ballroom, hopefully never to be seen again (at least for the night).
“Well,” Albert breathed, laughing as he ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t think he’ll be bothering us anymore.”
“You’re right…Thank you, Albert.”
“What are you thanking me for?” he asked, gaze drifting back to yours. “I’ve done nothing to warrant your gratitude.”
You shook your head. “You have, Albert. You didn’t have to step in and save me from Darnley’s advances, but you did, even though doing so could have tarnished your family name. I’m indebted to you.”
Albert frowned ever so slightly, and you cocked your head to the side, confused. After a few moments, his gaze flickered to the people dancing around the room, his cheeks still tinged a beautiful red. “If you thought I was doing all that just to be a gentleman,” he murmured, “then I don’t know what it would take to make the truth clear to you...”
Well, suddenly you were the one left blushing. 
“It’s not that. I…I don’t want to assume anything more, not when you’re such a precious person to me. I’m just scared of ruining what we have between us.”
Albert turned his attention back to you, using the hand that was still on your waist to pull you close to him again. Taking your other hand in his, he lifted it up to his lips, your faces now just mere inches apart.
“And what if I were to say that I do want something more?”
You almost wanted to pinch yourself to make sure it wasn’t all a dream.
But you still felt the press of his lips against yours, took in the smell of his cologne, and memorized the touch of his fingers running along your cheek. It was not a dream. It was even better.
Albert leaned down next to your ear, his breath fanning against your skin. “If one kiss isn’t enough to convey how much my heart yearns for you, then allow me to kiss you until you’re breathless, and no more words of doubt are left on your tongue.”
Albert smiled as your face grew redder, and with the way he bit his lip, you knew he was struggling not to comment on it.
“For a noble, you sure lack any semblance of shame, Master Albert."
Albert shook his head and chuckled to himself, that mischievous glint having once again returned to his eyes. “Keep teasing me and you’ll find out just how shameless I can be, darling.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
“Do you want to find out?”
Despite your flustered state, you couldn’t help but laugh, squeezing Albert’s hand tighter in yours. “If you want to kiss me so badly, do so in a place that’s actually romantic, will you?”
Taking you by the hand, Albert began to lead you outside of the ballroom and into the rose gardens. “Of course, and I’ll take my time to make sure I kiss you properly.”
You made a mental note to thank William and Louis for letting you tag along to the ball. If all went well, they would end up becoming your own brothers-in-law, after all.
But that could wait until you finally had Albert’s affections all to yourself.
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katishome · 2 years
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Jacob Day Masterlist
SERIES
ONE SHOTS
CONCEPTS
BLURBS
Late Night Talking
A Look Into Our Hearts
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jellysweets · 10 months
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me after being silly & not posting for 10 months UMMM anyways im gonna start being kinda active i already have smth in the works riiight now!!
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k-atsukibakugou · 1 month
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tw: sfw, childhood best friends, mutual pining, w/c: 0.6k notes: uh I was slapped in the face with this scene so here u go; I wuv domestic bakugou, idc how bad this is it was haunting me
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the tips of bakugou's hair droop ever so slightly at the moisture in the air, the blond growing darker in the steam. he adjusts himself in the bathtub, getting as comfortable as he can in the empty porcelain tub in front of your shower, the discomfort of the hardness against him the last thing on his mind as he listened to you talk, unconcerned by discomfort, or the steam settling on him, the feeling of his clothes sticking in the humidity. you're animated, he can see even that through the steam, the way your hands wave about wildly, one at your face as you scrubbed it, the other gesturing passionately behind the glass.
you swipe the condensation from the frosted glass in front of your eyes, "you know?!"
you’re incredulous, your brows down in a scowl as you gossip about someone he probably doesn’t even know the name of. he hums his agreement, content listening to you rant and rave all about the most recent news in your life, and watching your blurred silhouette.
“okay, close your eyes, im gonna get my towel.” your voice is light, not a trace of apprehension, this habit like second nature to you now. bakugou obeys, grunting when you’re safe to climb out of the shower.
he can feel you near him, the heat and steam radiating off of your skin, the clean scent of your soap entering his nostrils, clouding his head more than the steam. you're close enough to brush your wet skin against his, the softness of your towel fluttering against his forearm when you wrap it around yourself.
“hey, are you home this weekend? the old lady keeps asking about you.” he doesn’t care he interrupts your story of the latest episode you watched. hearing your lips part and close, his ears prick, waiting for your gentle hum to reach his ears.
“depends, what are you going to make me for dinner?” you sit down at the edge of the bathtub, reaching to poke his face, one cherry red eye cracking open, then the other. he’s met with your smiling face, a strike of adoration hitting him in the heart at your pretty features, as damp as his from the steam, a droplet running down the side of your throat to the top of your towel tucked into itself at your chest.
“whatever you want me to make.” his voice is softer than he wants it to be, his adam’s apple nervously bobbing in his throat, his mouth dryer than it had ever been with you this close, he’s had you closer; pulled into tight hugs when you were 5, closer again at 9 when you wrestled with him in the mud, his heart starting to race at 15 when his parents made him shuffle ‘closer, katsuki, you guys are friends,’ when you graduated lower secondary school together. every moment since then turning out like this, his eyes darting back and forth between yours, the air shifting the longer you stared at each other, his chest about to touch yours when you respond, your breath fanning over his cheeks at your proximity, “yeah, i’ll be there.”
he deludes himself for a moment, thinking you sound as nervous as he does, thinking your pupils dilate ever-so-slightly the longer you stare at each other, thinking maybe your lips pucker when your gaze falls, when you lean a touch closer, years of tension about to break between you both.
"i'll get out of your way." you clear your throat and stand back up, water still dripping from your body, katsuki jumping back like he was electrocuted by your sudden movement, muttering an agreement, a foreign anxiety settling in his stomach even as he sheds his shirt; sparing one last glance before you latch the door, katsuki catches your wide eyes once more and wonders if they mirror the adoration in his.
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