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crimson-kisses · 4 months

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Oh my god, I need more yandere ludwig. Your work is amazing! Keep up the good work, but don't forget about yourself!!🖤 May I ask what would Germany's behavior be like if the reader were pregnant? Or if their daughter? (son?) already born? It seems to me that nothing will help the poor reader in this case, I see him twice as protective and controlling than he already is. And if we add the fact of the presence of the "Great Uncle Gilbert" ... Just good luck to the nerve cells and the psyche of the reader :')

(sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language ><)

Omg thank you so much! I am so glad people have been loving my works, the characterization is kinda wobbly in my opinion but still. I really do appreciate the compliments! Your English is quite good doll, don’t worry ;3 love the ask though, the drama would surely be intense. 🐝✨

Warnings; anything traumatic related to pregnancy. non-con. proceed with caution.

🇩🇪

Innere Unruhe

It wasn't necessarily the first thought you had in mind, obviously. You remembered your stomach doing backflips as you wobbled around the kitchen, a rather common occurrence after Ludwig had been significantly rough with you while you were cooking dinner.

His hands pulled up your dress, his fingers tracing your skin as they teasingly played with the hem of your underwear. His other hand snaked across your waist, pressing your back against him as his lips gently kissed your neck. The scent of his cologne overwhelmed you, and you could feel the tension from his workplace leaving his body.

It wasn't the first time, but you still weren't accustomed to it. You wished you were. Sometimes when you wanted him, it was bearable, hopelessly addicting even.

Slowly his fingers begin playing with your silky folds. Never mind you cooking dinner, his hands now pulling at your dress, the apron, your hair messily falling over your back, not caring much about the food Ludwig turns the stove off and seems hell bent on making your thighs shiver from just his fingers.

As you gracefully collapse onto him, he gently lets you slide to the floor while casually starting to wash his hands. You assume dinner comes first, and then it's likely time for the bedroom, where he will carry you off to.

Throwing up half of your dinner was not in your plans though.

Honestly, all you felt was slight discomfort for the past few weeks and you had assumed that was your new normal considering the lifestyle you had with Ludwig. Both of you were active in the bedroom, and even though it was horrible to admit, your lover made damn sure you had reached your climax to the point of blacking out.

It was after when Ludwig had been cuddling with you, seemingly in a sleepy mood today when you might have started breathing heavily alerting the man behind you, it was disgusting and you might have cried out of frustration as gentle but strong hands carried you to the washroom and in a short time, freshly cleaned up, the moment your head landed on the pillow, you were out.

And then you began noticing the symptoms, a woman’s body is bound to act up in a complicated manner during stress, right? So the absence of your period? Must be the stress. The throbbing pain? Well, Ludwig could get very rough at times. Throwing up? Maybe your stomach wasn’t digesting food properly. Sore breasts? Again, rough sex. Excuses after excuses. And with what you were going through, this was simply accepted as your new normal.

Ludwig had begun to take care of you, making sure you were fed and hydrated well, stressing over your health which seemed to take a drastic turn all of a sudden. It was probably just a fever. Perhaps he had been too harsh on you? Nonetheless, he encouraged you to take rest and did everything in the home and looked after you. To you, he was being somewhat dramatic.

But again, you had a feeling in your gut that this was something more than a cold. A woman’s body had it’s magical ways of making such things known. In the form of pain.

Of course, you had lost your balance and went tumbling down the flight of stairs, vision blurry and a strong sense of nausea enveloping your body in its strong grip. You tried breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself down but it hurt. Hurt so bad. And Ludwig had gone to a meeting just a while ago.

“Oi Ludwig, are you— Holy Mother—",

Gilbert. Oh how you despised that man, but how did he get in?, the concerning thought flew out of the window as you felt cold hands land on your forehead, caressing your throbbing head, almost as if he was investigating a wounded animal. Which you supposed was a perfect description.

After that, all you remembered was being placed on a couch, and voices whispering in rapid German. Did he call his brother? Obviously. Maybe he had called him to take care of you since you were unable to so yourself. God, that felt pathetic, so so pathetic.

Ludwig stared at your distressed form with a grimace set on his lips, thank god his brother had arrived in time, but that didn’t necessarily explain what was going on with you. If anything, he was getting more and more concerned about your well being. He wasn’t going to take you to a hospital, the thought of that made him feel disgusted, he was not going to let them touch you.

Instead, he thought of calling for Emma first thing tomorrow. He had given her his workload for today, she might be able to help or advice just what was going on with you,

He had helped you reach the bedroom, letting you lay down and decided to leave you alone at the moment, maybe some good rest oughta make you feel better, and some time alone from him. Was he stressing you out? Was he the reason for this? Sighing in frustration, he felt so annoyed and upset at himself.

It was after a moment of silence when you opened your eyes, the house was dark with only a few lights on, alerting you until you remembered what had happened. Ugh, your belly hurt so much. Trying to lift yourself up, you tried to bear the ache on your waist, at least your vision was clear now with no sign of blacking out any time soon.

Slowly but steadily, you made your way to the washroom, easily pulling off your silky dress and tossing it on the floor. Your hands immediately rested on the floor lengthen mirror and that’s when you truly saw your reflection.

Messy hair, it had been brushed by Ludwig just before so it wasn’t a tangled mess but nonetheless still messy. Your skin was sickly pale with dark circles and dry as your lips, your body seemed to be growing chubbier these days, your breasts hurt and your—

Wait.

Narrowing your eyes, you slowly turned to the side, eyeing your stomach more carefully. Touching the flesh with tender fingertips as if something inside you was telling you to be gentle. As if something was there, your body seemed to be telling you that, your belly had gotten somewhat bigger and the area throbbed in pain at times.

For some reason, you couldn’t breathe.

Thankfully your legs found the toilet seat and you fell right on top of it. Breathing more heavily, you clutched your thighs and tried to clear down your thoughts.

It couldn’t be.

Nations could not get pregnant nor could they make anyone else pregnant. That was explained to you by your agency when you were ordered to spy on the personification of Germany. It was further confirmed by Ludwig. But again, he was a young nation himself, maybe there’s been a mistake. Maybe it was because he had forced you to consume a part of him and become a semi-immortal?

A raspy gasp escaped your throats as you hyper focused on breathing. Just breathe, just breathe.

You know what you had to do.

“Are you doing alright?”, Ludwig asked you as he pulled the blanket over him, his voice laced with genuine concern and a hint of guilt in his eyes. He didn’t bother to pull your body close to him this time.

“It’s fine really”, you lied, obviously. There was a slight tremble in your voice which made Ludwig furrow his brows a bit. Nonetheless, he gave a firm nod and opened his laptop and starting wearing his headphones.

After a while had passed, you slowly pulled yourself closer to him and curled your hands around his arm, nuzzling you cheek against his muscle and sighing tiredly. Stifling a smile of victory as you felt his movements stop.

You heard a sigh and felt his fingers touch your scalp, soothing your roots and soon enough his body was cuddling against yours.

“Feeling well?”, he asked in a whisper and you nodded slightly. Honestly you had done this before to get what you want and you weren’t exactly sure whether Ludwig already knew your intentions or he was just glad to have such soft romantic moments.

“It was just my period acting up”, you mumbled with a fake whimper following soon enough, voice feeble and quite. “I might need to order some supplies, please?”

Fluttering your eyelashes, you gave him a meek expression and you tried hard not to smile or have your heartbeat give away to your plans. You saw him contemplating until you saw a slight smile on the corner of his mouth. He must have been so tired, poor thing,

“Whatever you want”.

He continues watching his show as you scrolled through his phone, putting several items in the bucket list as well as some supplies which you would experiment with later, not that he would know. Ludwig was kind of a simp really.

Finalizing you order, you gave his phone back to him and continues to muzzle with his arm until you fell asleep.

The delivery came quickly enough, you had to contain yourself from showing growing dread and absolute tension in front of Ludwig the whole day, especially when you carried the delivered boxes towards your bedroom as Ludwig helped you and then left you alone to go to his office.

Quickly you grabbed onto a loose dress, some pregnancy tests, a pad and headed to the washroom. Your hands were shaking terribly but you had done it.

You stared at the floor in a newfound terror, as each and single one of the tests showed positive. Each single one. positive. The marks were all you could see as your heart plummeted. Pregnant.

You were with a child. A baby was growing in your stomach which was supposed to be impossible. And it honestly felt as if it was growing faster than a normal child would. Because you could literally feel your body changing at times. It could be, considering the fact this was a nation’s child. Germany’s child. If Ludwig came to know?

You had to escape. Fast.

Knock. Knock.

“Everything alright?”,

Shit. Your head whipped around to stare at the doorknob turning and quickly hid the supplies you brought to the washroom. The used tests were stashed in the pad’s packet and you put on a pad just for the act.

“Do you need help?”, his voice sounded worried and you internally cursed, oh you have helped a lot Ludwig. Fucking thanks.

“Coming! Just making sure it wouldn’t leak!”, you heard a slight cough and rolled your eyes at the man who was probably blushing on the other side of the door.

Seriously what did he expect you were doing? As much as he was sharp, he could be a dimwit. Stupid meathead. God, the anger towards him was growing day by day, especially at your predicament.

“Sorry, I was just concerned Schatz, take your time”.

This was bad. Ludwig was already so strung up about you even though you had tried so hard to show him that you were alright, you had to subdue his worries fast or else escaping with your child would be hard to do so. No wonder, your health would plummet sooner or later and your chances would plummet as well.

You knew he would be waiting just outside for you, so washing yourself properly, putting on a relaxed expression you decided to put on an act.

“Finally, everything good?”, Ludwig asked after an exasperated sigh, pissing you off slightly but you managed to subdue the anger. He grasped your hands and stared at your face, pulling your body closer to his as he took in your scent.

“Of course. My health’s gotten a lot better, you really don’t have to worry so much. I am doing well Ludwig, trust me?”,

There was hitch in his breath as you asked the last question, and in your too. Trust. It was about trust at the end wasn’t it?

You betrayed him the moment you stepped into Germany as a spy, his trust afterwards when you attacked with a gun, knife or a frying pan, trying to escape him over and over again. He couldn’t trust you that easily, that’s been few years ago and yet sometimes you can feel his eyes scrutinize you.

"I made dinner", was the only thing he replied with, holding your hand and leading you downstairs, uncertainty began to bubble up under your skin and it didn’t go away for the rest of the day.

Emma had said that nothing was wrong with you, only a fever which humans had once in a while which subdued Ludwig's and your worries, you supposed she wouldn’t even think of pregnancy being possible. Ludwig only ate in silence as the television played an action movie, your eyes following the scenes.

It was a new show which you saw Ludwig watching, sensing your interest he decided to connect it to the tv. At first, you avoided it like the plague but being bored enough, you decided to give it a try. Which was a common occurrence these days, whether it was something you liked or he liked, it ended up being shared or brought up quite frequently.

Strangely domestic. It unnerved you at times.

"I was thinking",

huh?

Your eyes met his, and you suddenly realized that he had been staring at you all along. You noticed him glance at your hands, causing you to quickly unclench them. Was your anxiety that apparent? Damn.

"I checked your bucket list", he did?

Narrowing his gaze, your heart skipped a beat as he gently held your hand. Which he had broken quite a few times while interrogating you. He took in a deep breath and placed a chaste kiss on your hand and eventually your cheek causing you to flinch, which he noticed keenly.

He stared at you with an empty expression for a while, while you did your best to avoid making eye contact. Your senses became more alert, and you could sense him gradually moving closer to you on the couch. He balanced his plate on his thigh while holding your hand, and his breath gently brushed against your neck as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

You attempted to control your breathing while hyper focusing on the movie. However, the weight on your shoulder provoked your resistance as his hand gradually encircled your back, pulling you closer to him.

"Ludwig, what are you doing?" you asked firmly, but it didn't seem to faze him at all, which only heightened your concerns. This was what worried you at times. While you could usually dissuade him easily, there were moments like this when he didn't play into your hands so easily. This was the man who had hunted you down and single-handedly defeated the rest of your team with his intelligence and strength alone.

"Emma pulled me aside after your test," he said slowly, causing your thighs to clench together. "She concluded me that all the symptoms you displayed were indicative of…" He trailed off and you attempted to push him away, but was forcefully pulled back towards him, his fingers digging into your waist.

He turned off the tv.

You tried to speak up but Ludwig shushed you as his palm was placed on your mouth, "I know you're not on your period," he whispered into your ear, causing your eyes to widen. Your chest rose and fell as you began to breathe heavily, and your thighs trembled as Ludwig nuzzled your neck, planting firm kisses.

He kissed you gently, yet possessively, his warm breath causing you to shiver as you struggled to contain your tangled emotions, trying not to struggle too much. Why did he start doing this all of a sudden? You believed you had finally caught him, but it appeared as though he willingly fell into your trap, as if it was his only opportunity to earn your affection.

"I don't know what your deal is, but don't keep playing the same game that you failed in repeatedly. I'm not begging you like I did last time," he whispered harshly.

"It’s a warning".

He let go of you, placing the plate harshly on the table and stood up. Hastily wiping his hands on a napkin, thinking quickly you clutched onto his thigh, "Ludwig— I was only worried I swear—“, you started, but he only clicked his teeth.

"And? You didn't even try to consult me?" He only gave you a glare, effectively ending the conversation as he left, leaving you in a state of meltdown on the couch.

"Forget it, you can’t get pregnant", he hissed sharply before storming out of the room. You wondered if he was disappointed by that fact or simply fed up with your constant schemes of escaping his grasps.

You had to escape tonight. Though could you even? It wouldn’t be the first time, but that was the issue. Ludwig was constantly on the lookout for any signs of disobedience from you, a man doesn’t suddenly lose his intelligence and brain after fucking a woman, for a while perhaps. But Ludwig despite being hopelessly in love, wasn’t going to play into your games again. Especially if he would end up finding out that you can be pregnant.

You take in a shaking breath, composing yourself and putting your act together as you head towards the bathroom. Throwing away your pad with a dissatisfied grumble, frustrated tears clinging to your lashes. You wipe them away hardly with your hands, exiting the washroom only to crash onto Ludwig, who catches you firmly, both of his hands on your waist.

“what’s wrong— shit—“, he wipes your tears and holds your face tenderly, you wondered if he thought that you were upset by what he said. He stared at you for a while before he hugged you, making you feel conflicted.

You didn’t think you could escape. This would be what? The nineteenth time? Or twenty-two? You didn’t quite remember, every time you were dragged back and punished, whether it was making you beg or cry, in the end Ludwig always made damn sure that you would be his. Even if sometimes you had disappeared for months at a time.

You had escaped to Southern Asia, Central Africa, South America and each time, he found you and brought you back. Nothing helped, your connections and underground friends were all gone and useless because Ludwig made sure that Gilbert disposed off them entirely.

All the drowsiness and sickness seemed to engulf at once as your knees gave out, Ludwig swiftly caught you by your waist, your legs wrapped around him as he layer you down on your bed. His eyes stared at you apprehensively as he towered over you.

You hunched up your dress, sniffling and gazing at the ceiling above. What were you attempting to plan, anyway? You were in a hopeless situation. How could you forget that you had been with Ludwig for years? Years of running away and getting caught again. Even if you managed to escape, you would still be searching and longing for someone to love you as deeply as him. This realization shattered you, made you angry, but ultimately… all you did was take a moment to catch your breath.

"I can’t—", you began but he silenced you, traces of the previous argument evident in his tensed muscles. His jaw was clenched tightly as he stared at your flushed form.

"Trust me?", Ludwig whispered softly, hunching over you as you looked at him with fresh tears falling off your eyes. Understanding what he meant as he traced your thighs, moving your dress to expose your skin, you hastily gripped his naked shoulders, broad frame overtaking your vision.

Soon enough, he began venting all his frustrations onto you. Your thighs were on his shoulders as he relentlessly thrust into you, biting your shoulder and breasts, planting harsh kisses on your skin. His hot breath and deep murmurs sent shivers down your spine, and loud, explicit moans escaped your lips as your eyes rolled back. It was a steaming delirious pleasure coiling around and drowning you.

Once again, the bed trembled from the intensity of Ludwig's thrusts, as he pounded into you with an animalistic force, leaving bruises on your thighs, waist, and back. It seemed like Ludwig was determined to make a point, although you couldn't quite understand what it was.

He fondled your breasts in a gentle manner when he was done filling you with his load over and over again, your body shook from the force it went through. Painful pleasure made you throb, both of your fluids, tears and sweat drenching your figure. Ludwig panted heavily, his muscles flexing in all its glory as you grasped his shoulders and moaned pathetically.

Giving a toothy kiss to your breast, he murmured hotly near your ear.

"You are going to be a great mother".

Your heart plummeted.

Ahem, so what happens now? (I was getting way off topic)

Ludwig would eventually find out about your pregnancy one way or another, whether by some indication or snooping around your damn business. And when he does, he is going to have a breakdown at first. Firstly, because such a thing should not be possible, but lo and behold. The power of a woman knows no boundaries.

However, he would also be ill-equipped to raise a child. Ludwig lacks emotional depth and has little experience with children , he would be uncertain about his ability to care for a child. after having a deep conversation with his family and friends, he would take it as his responsibility since he was the one who put that child into you. And in the end, that was his baby too.

After collecting himself, Ludwig would actually be quite elated. His wife was pregnant, and deep down, he had always fantasized about and desired to have a wife and a child whom he could care for, just as his siblings had cared for him. To have some sort of normalcy and an escape. Soon enough, after throughly researching and studying, he would feel confident enough in himself to shoulder on the responsibilities. Also with you beside him would make him feel more secure.

"Ludwig, it’s not that much of a big deal!", you yelped as Ludwig carried you upstairs, near your newly furnished bedroom where he placed a tv and everything else you might need. Last thing he wanted was for you to move around carelessly and needlessly, unless it was for exercise and hygiene. Gilbert trailed behind him with a grin on his face, apparently he was your especially appointed bodyguard with Emma and Lily as your maids. This was ridiculous.

He would be extremely protective, constantly hovering over you and ensuring your well-being. He would prioritize your comfort and relaxation, carefully managing your eating and sleeping schedule. He would exert control over every aspect of your life to ensure everything goes smoothly. He is afraid of losing you, and his overbearing nature might eventually lead Gilbert to intervene and set him straight. because he would be stressing you out too.

Gilbert would thwart any of your attempts and antics immediately. It was fun back in the days, but now with you being very vulnerable with his brother's child, he would be very firm and protective over you as well. Watching you like an eagle.

Ludwig already has the entire nursery planned and baby proofed, with your input here and there, including everything else a child needs. This man is brainstorming every possibility. He has everything prepared and protected. The medical team is one of the best in Germany, and you have top security from the government themselves after Ludwig requested so.

Considering the fact that your predicament is basically a miracle, it might bring about some curious nations and Ludwig is not going to let that slide. This man is just itching for someone to mess up.

I feel like he would want a boy. He’s not sexist ofc! it’s just that he would personally love to have a son to take care of and raise him properly with discipline that Gilbert inflicted on him but also the affection he needed too. Eventually, it wouldn’t matter. It’s just a preference if he was asked about it.

He wants four btw, two boys and two girls. Ludwig would be embarrassed to admit this, but you will definitely end up with four kids if he can’t help it. He can, he chooses not to.

Eventually, you have twins - a boy who is slightly older than the girl. Ludwig, upon holding their tiny bodies, almost dies. He may have cried, but in that moment, he couldn't care less.

As a Nation, Ludwig's genes would end up overtaking yours, meaning the children would mostly look him with some of your features. Ludwig ofc notices this and makes sure that you don’t end up having a breakdown because of him over the children.

He knows, you might end up having depression and stress, which is why he would be present at home often. Gilbert would also be visiting often with his darling, taking care of the children and ensuring that you don’t lose your mind and hurt the kids. I feel as if Ludwig would be okay with Lily and Emma visiting as well, his children need to socialize.

As they grow up faster, being the children of a nation, I believe that his son would resemble Ludwig right away, with his shiny blond hair, eyes a striking blue, the only in resemblance being your eye shape and eyebrows. Unfortunately, his possessive attitude towards you also starts to develop. Being the oldest son, he feels responsible for taking care of you, which leads to daily arguments between the two of you and Ludwig. He wouldn’t dare argue with his uncle tho.

The girl, on the other hand, sort of resembles you in personality. She has the same confidence as Gilbert and is passionate in everything she does. However, she also possesses an unwavering honesty. She is obsessed with gaining your and Ludwig's approval and desires for both of you to always be together. She is very affectionate and sweet, but also quite anxious, much like you. The only thing that resembles you are her eyes.

You could say that, Ludwig raises them to be equally responsible and have proper sense of duties. But he is softer on his girls, Gilbert is not tho, but he isn’t as harsh on them as he is with the boys. Which is probably why their yandere tendencies are much more apparent— in the end, you suppose it’s a cycle. Little did you know, your girls were taking after you— only that they were yandere too.

Ludwig would end up spoiling them, but at the same time he would be very strict. Mostly because his oldest son gives him very doubtful vibes, his daughter seems to rather dainty, his other son is a nervous wreck, his youngest daughter is a shy bean. But in the end, they aren’t really that innocent. And he knows. You hope they turn out normal though (they don’t.)

He would be enrolling them in the best educational institutions, they will be known as the rich cool kids in school, extremely smart and intelligent. With a confusing aura unnerving but also attracting many people, in the end they end up twisted as Ludwig, when their weight of immortality and power catches up to them.

They would also be very protective over you but you can easily deter them to have some sort of privacy and control. In the end, Ludwig expects them to respect and listen to their mother, and the kids wouldn’t cross any strict boundaries.

Also, Ludwig would be the one making sure you get a proper bath, his hands gentle and soft as he slowly cleans you, while also making sure you were comfortable. This man can’t keep his hands of your pregnant body, whether it’s for a massage or physical affection he can never get enough of.

He will also make sure to pleasure you, especially when your feeling particularly needy or cravings, he will be there between your legs, softly sucking any area he can find. He would especially be fondling your breasts and yes, he would develop a lactation kink. And a breeding kink, honestly this man is kinky af when it comes to his woman.

As much as he would be suffocating, he is also very gentle because he would so nervous that he might end up fucking this up like everything else in his life and he simply cannot have that. He can’t mess this up too.

Constantly asks his brother for advice on how to take care of the kids, and maybe his boss would end up babysitting them or something when he takes them to work lol. You will actually get a lot of help for taking care of the child. Especially if you would be easily tired and vulnerable, you won’t have to worry about a thing.

Although Ludwig would still be very protective with the kids, they would grow up quite quickly and stronger too, which will tone him down. But he would be strict with what they do and how they do it. He would still be possessive over you and paranoid that since his attention won’t be fully on you, you would try to leave him again. So he trusts the kids to take care of that. And they do so.

Things are alright, you could say, obviously not the kind of life you had in mind back in the days. With having strong immortal kids and a husband, but is what it is. Gilbert would tease the shit out of you and sometimes belittle if you act up too much. Ludwig wouldn’t suddenly loose his teeth when it comes down to your or his kids' disobedience.

Things are relatively tame, aside from few arguments, disagreements, tension brewing between nations. You would be rather stable as time goes on, Ludwig would be tamer as well if you behave and stop trying to stir shit up. It’s all good.

That is until….

The winter breeze rushes in as the front door is forcefully opened and then locked. You set your book down on the table next to your armchair as you stand up, the blanket wrapped around you falling carelessly to the ground. You don't care; your eyes are fixed on your eldest son.

"Leonard, what is this?" you cautiously ask him, your breath catching in your throat as you take in the scene. Your senses are overwhelmed by a strong smell of copper, quickly rendering you motionless.

It reminded of you when his twin came in, announcing her utterly obsessive devotion to her boyfriend, who avoided Ludwig's eyes at all cost.

However, she was relatively tame in comparison to this.

Your son, towering over you, almost his father’s height, stood with a manic grin on his face. His dark blond hair messy, eyes glinting with joy but his face— …… they were stained with blood. But that was nothing alarmingly shocking.

No.

It was the poor, shivering girl bundled up tightly in his arms, she was also covered in dark blood, which stained her face and clothes. Sniffling, she attempted to hide her face.

You saw Leonard's eyes roll and frown at her feeble attempt, he brought her closer to give a kiss on her forehead, not minding her flinching away as if it burned. His eyes, lighter than his father's, clashed with yours. A smug look comes on his face along with his familiar grin.

Is he taunting you? Challenging your authority? Or is it a warning?

You wonder if Ludwig knows, or ever wondered that his son committed a bloodbath—

"Fühlt sich vertraut an, Mutter?"

62 notes · View notes

cozymoko · 7 months

Text

PERFORM, FOR US.

word count: 1.9k

WARNING(S): slight yandere themes, suggestive behavior

Yandere! Ice Skater x Pianist! Reader ❄

It's freezing, both outside and in. But it's winter so that’s to be expected. While a smooth, chilling breeze nipped at the skin of many, warm blankets shielded the bodies of many more. And before they knew it, the Winter Olympics were just around the corner.

Your fingers twitched above the monochrome keys, itching to play whatever dared enter your mind. A faint hum had just barely buzzed past your sealed lips, reaching the curious ears of the man sitting before you.

This year’s theme: Soft Wonderland

It was strange, you thought so too. But that didn’t stop you from giving it your all. The way you played piano was something otherworldly, and you were just as lucky to have such a skilled skater performing it.

The skater in question was seated directly to your right.

You reached out and lightly flicked his exposed forehead. “What’s with that look; is there something on my face?” Your question was rhetorical, even dripping with a hint of sarcasm; yet it flustered him all the same.

VINCENT hastily shook his head, placing a pale hand on his reddened skin.

You opted to ignore the look of admiration that had painted his sharp features. It didn’t suit him. Not at all. On television, he was a blessing to the eye. Gifted a cold exterior and a face to match. Most of his fans viewed him as the reserved, prince-boyfriend type, who’s protective and well-composed no matter the circumstance. If not for his previous interviews, you could even say he seemed unapproachable.

Ugh, they couldn’t be more wrong.

Vincent Yves Beaumont is a star in the making. Thief of Hearts and Trophies galore. A real gentleman, who's real easy on the eyes. A prodigy, successfully obtaining more than a handful of awards at the young age of twenty-two. Born in France; raised in Belgium, fluent in at least three languages. That in which has gained him quite the fanbase.

He was amazing, in the eyes of the public. Made to be something phenomenal — a star. Vincent was…he was…

A big fucking baby.

Even now, he rubbed gentle circles into your thigh with the smooth pads of his thumbs. His arm was propped against the edge of the piano-polished frame while his chin rested upon the base of his free hand. He was close, incredibly close. So close that you swore you felt the richness of his cologne tickling your nose: Cinnamon with a hint of pine. The faint remnants of mint mingled within his scent subtly. It was pleasant, but you distanced yourself anyway.

A quick glance at the clock was enough to send your heart spiraling. You only had an hour, sixty fucking minutes, to record all the edits you made on the sheet music before Vincent’s big performance. Although after having an inner monologue, mid-session at that, you truly anticipated nothing less.

“Se concentrer! Nous avons peu de temps.” You scolded.

'Focus! We don’t have much time.' Those were your exact words, in French at that. Despite it being your first (and his), you only used it when he managed to annoy you. Unfortunately, that was arguably his favorite pastime.

Why did this irk you so? One might ask. And luckily, there’s a simple answer to this unbelievably idiotic question. It’s the Olympics for crying out loud and this childish fucker was going to be representing you! Sure, you didn’t doubt his abilities; he had quite the talent. But still, you never worked well under pressure. You have a whole reputation to uphold!

You were a composer, after all. A damn good one at that. For only being twenty-six, you easily retained the talent of someone well into their sixties. You spent most of your early twenties frolicking alongside plenty of well-renowned figure skaters; Vincent being one of them. You had won a handful of awards along the way, along with plenty of generous deals.

Meaning, that everyone had high expectations for you.

A soft chuckle breezed by your ears. It was deep but just the right amount. If you hadn’t known better, then you’d say your viable hysteria amused him. Hmph, What a sadist.

“I am,” He grins earnestly. “I promise.”

Maybe you’d believe him, just this once. You were even tempted to give him the benefit of the doubt. But when he snaked his arm around your waist, all your hope when flying out the window. Then again, you didn’t have much of it anyway. “Vincent, get off of me you pervert.”

“Noo, You’re my lucky charm, I need you in order to perform well tonight.” The brunette whined into the crook of your neck, his nimble fingers toying with the fabric of your wool sweater.

Vincent shifted practically all his weight on you, causing you to go tumbling off the side of the wooden piano stool. You wrap your arms around him for support, refusing to acknowledge the sinful sound that slipped past his rosy lips. For fucks sake, he acts like a virgin.

Then, as if he couldn’t get any closer, leaned in and gently ran his tongue along the shell of your ear - like a cat in heat. Vincent’s pretty lips tug into a subtle smirk, purring, “If I win first place, will you reward me, Mon cœur?”

Never mind, definitely not a virgin!

Your heart was drumming against your chest, cheeks flushing at the man’s proximity. Fuck! Fuck!! Fuck!!! What were you supposed to do? He’s getting far too close for this to even possibly be appropriate, not to mention he called you “his love”.

You shrug him away weakly, just barely maintaining your composure. Vincent slightly loosened his hold on you, only to meet your gaze. Half-lidded eyes, blessed with long and full lashes. His chin rested on your chest, his hair tickling your exposed clavicles. His cheeks adorned a deeper shade of red, as though just the sight of you was managing to rile him up. This alone was euphoric.

“Please, [Name].”

God, he looked shameful. What a perv.

Using all of your strength, you push him out of the room, slamming the door right in his face. “Go get dressed, damn it!” You managed to scream through rigid breaths. This was no longer your problem — Vincent was no longer your problem. This was an issue for Hualing — his makeup artist; or Enlai — his stylist.

For that fact, you were grateful.

“Fuck, I only have thirty minutes left!”

After dropping the CD, you hailed a cab to take you back. Your lungs were screaming for air; your back practically collapsing in on itself. At this point, you were positive that the only thing keeping you from quitting it all was a shit ton of stress and adrenaline. But just as you were about to unlock the door, a loud DING echoed through the hotel's vacant halls.

Hesitantly, you opened it.

MR. ALWAYS ON TIME (VINCENT’S COACH):

Hey, [Name]! Just so you know, Beaumont won’t be the first performer today….

▷ delivered 19:34

To your delight (and vexation), Vincent would be the third performer of the night. “Gee, thanks,” You replied. That definitely would’ve been great to know earlier.

That evening, you were able to put those extra minutes to good use. You’d cleaned up rather nicely, compelling those around you to compliment your attire. They’d never guess you were an absolute wreck not even forty-five minutes ago.

You greeted his coach with a curt nod, before sitting a few seats down from him. Due to your reputation, others were quick to offer you seats closer to the front. And there was no chance in hell you were going to decline.

You learn back in your cushioned seat, blasting soft classical music over the booming voices of those around you. From what you knew, Vincent should be on any minute now and ready to—

“AHHH!!!”

You sigh, “I spoke too soon.”

Squeals that mimicked pigs and spoiled children tore through your ears (and sanity). It was loud, so loud that not even your headphones could withstand its volume. You reach to massage your temples, peeling your eyes open to try to focus on the man before you.

Once on stage, he bowed to the judges before adjusting his posture, allowing the bright stage lights to catch the purple shimmers decorating his uniform. His smile commanded the audience’s attention; seemingly genuine with deep dimples pooling at its sides. Full, ebony strands parted and combed out his eyes.

Cat-like, hazel eyes flicker over the vast audience; left to right, side to side. In search of something - or rather someone. The star was quick to find you, watching him with a certain regard that made his heart flutter. He felt light, under your gaze. It burned him, like a flame nipping away at frostbitten fingers. Hungry, craving more than what should suffice.

A feverish smile tugged at the corners of his rosy lips, one he didn’t bother to hide from the public. Vincent still acted like a young schoolgirl in your presence. Despite meeting you all those years ago. Despite being your fan as long as he can remember.

“Now for the star you’ve been waiting for, the heartthrob of a century…Vincent Yves Beaumont! ”

Gliding along the sleek ice like a Blue Jay spreading its feathered wings. Vincent’s movements showed a feeling of contentment and even bliss. Each quad looked like mere child’s play as he landed them, perfect without the tiniest flaw. Each turn was perfect as though he was programmed to perfection. Each and every axel he executed pulled a series of silent cheers from the crowd.

The skater nearly rolled his eyes, for he couldn’t finish his choreo fast enough. He didn’t want to pretend like he enjoyed being down here, at least a hundred feet away. He didn’t want to compete for something as insignificant as a medal when he could have your love as a prize instead. But he did it in a heartbeat…for you.

Nothing mattered if it wasn’t for you.

If not for you, this career meant nothing.

The fame didn’t matter if you weren’t experiencing it with him.

He wanted you - No, needed you.

And he’d fucking have you too.

You hum in realization as the last three lines of your song carried through the wind. Vincent’s performance was coming to an end. Landing his final quad loop, smoothly transitioning into a back-counter triple counter. His choreo had ended, and with it your song. He bowed once more, drowning in a sea of applause that engulfed the stadium.

Roses, Peonies, whatever you could think of was thrown in the ring. Yet, Vincent didn’t bother to acknowledge one. His eyes were locked on you, yours on him. You gave him a friendly wave, and to your surprise, he did not reciprocate it. That in itself was weird.

Now, you may not be a genius but the look in his eyes was far from normal. Everyone’s precious star, Vincent, was staring at you like a lion watching its prey. If you hadn’t known any better you thought he’d be already trying to pounce on you at that very moment. Hah, and you’re not wrong! He could hardly strain the animalistic urge to take you home and finally make you his.

That’s when it hit you, you’ve never seen him lose a competition. So that “deal” you made earlier was getting closer and closer to becoming reality. And something told you he wasn’t going to let you go~!

“Fuck me, bro.”

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sweetwolfcupcake · 2 years

Text

The Forest: Invitation

Yandere Namjoon x Reader

The Forest: The Beginning Masterlist

****

“I never thought you will have to return someday.”

The therapist’s office did not feel like a strange palace anymore. The last time she had been there was when she was seven- two years. It took two whole years for the constant, terrifying nightmares to cease.

“I did not think so either.”

“(Y/N) I’m a child psychologist, I would not be able to help you this time.”

“I know Doctor, but I am not exactly here for regular sessions, I need…I just need this to stop. But first I need to know what kinds of nightmares I used to have as a child? You have recordings, voice and video recordings. Don’t you?”

Dr Meera Smith had been a woman in her thirties when (Y/N)’s mother first brought her to her cabin. Now she was a middle-aged woman with greying hair and a heavier body. But she exuded the same warmth she used to when (Y/N) was brought to her as a child- five and traumatized.

“Are you sure? Your mother never wanted you to watch them.”

(Y/N) nodded at the question. She needed to go back in order to find the roots. Besides, she could share it with her therapist- if she needed one. And she might be needing one soon if her sleep cycle continued to be compromised.

“Yes, Doctor, I’m sure. I need to remember what I had been seeing in those nightmares and what had been the symptoms. I would like to take them home. The voice and the video recordings. All of them.”

Dr Smith eyed her carefully, concern visible in her chocolate orbs, before giving her a final nod.

-----

“Bloody hell, there are so many of them, more than a hundred (Y/N).” Cindy gasped as she eyed the recording files on the laptop. “You need to make time for these.”

“Juggling between the bistro and academics, it’s going to be difficult.” (Y/N) admitted.

Dr Meera Smith had handed over two pen drives to her- one had the video, the other had the audios. And even though (Y/N) was eager to copy all the files into her laptop, she did not know if she was ready to begin experiencing those sessions again.

“Just don’t let Mom know.” she turned to Cindy who nodded assuringly

“Of course not.”

—------

“One Belgium chocolate scoop on a chocolate waffle please!” (Y/N) informed the kitchen staff before turning around to type down the next order.

“Two bowls of French onion soup with crispy garlic and herbs bread, please.” the familiar voice made her look up.

“Oh, what a pleasant surprise.” Namjoon’s eyes had widened and eyebrows raised momentarily in surprise before a smile broke out.

“Yes, I never saw you here before?” (Y/N) felt her cheeks heating up for some unknown reason, but she managed to keep a social smile.

“Yes, a friend of mine recommended this place, and he was not wrong on the ‘warm vibes’ thing. Any recommendations you would make for dessert?”

“Eh, yes, um- lemon tarts, or the classic opera cakes. They are mostly sold-out on Fridays.” she was glad that she had managed to keep up her composure.

Kim Namjoon was an attractive man, intimidatingly so. There was a certain imposing aura surrounding him that could leave passersby awestruck, yet he was so smooth with manners and appeared so gentle in disposition, it made her mind fling into an internal battle- to give into the allurement or not.

“The classics, I see. I will take both since you recommended me. Please add that to the list.” his smile crooked a bit and she was afraid that he had noticed her reddened cheeks.

Nodding, she tried to focus on the computer screen while trying to not look up and meet his gaze- she could feel his eyes on her all the while.

“All done, you can pay and collect your bill.” she gestured towards John the cashier sitting only a metre away from her. Namjoon nodded and moved, to her relief.

She was seeing him after only two days and yet he had somehow managed to catch her off guard. She discreetly watched as he took a seat in front of a man whose wide back was visible, almost covering Namjoon’s frame.

Yet a part of Namjoon’s face could be seen, his friend was wide-shouldered, with jet black hair. And yet, when her eyes trailed up, towards Namjoon’s partly-visible face, only one eye was visible, and it was already on her, gaze piercing her soul.

(Y/N)’s breathing ceased for a moment before she snapped her gaze back to the customer standing in front of her.

-------

The bus stand was only five minutes away from the apartment complex. The usually bleak days were turning even shorter and bleaker, so by the time (Y/N) reached the gates of the complex, it felt to be midnight- even though it was only ten o’clock.

The evening had turned windy, making her nose turn pink. She tucked her hands inside her pockets as she stood near the gates. The presence of a security guard and multiple security cameras made her feel a bit safer, even though the longer she watched the darkened, massive park on the other side of the road, the darker it appeared.

It was only the wind that made the shrubs and trees ruffle, but it appeared as if something more than just gusts of wind was making them move. There were so many trees in the park, that it appeared to be the edge of a forest. And it reminded her of a real one- a terrifying, dense, dark forest that was etched on her mind like a stubborn stain. The return of the nightmares had only made it all worse.

(Y/N) bit her lip as she continued to gaze into the park. The locals had always described it to be beautiful, a lovely, sunny, cool and green place- ideal for nature lovers. But she could never bring herself to venture into the park alone. It had always been Cindy by her side whenever she had to step into the place- and she had only done so twice.

The sudden swoosh of something moving among the trees at a tremendous speed startled her, making her take a step back.

It is just the wind.

Just the wind

It’s windy and…

Fuck it!

With no intention to look back, (Y/N) turned around and hurried into the safety of the complex.

-----

“What?” (Y/N) could not believe her ears,

“Okay, I know that it is quite sudden but, we were first riding in the elevator together, then I helped him with shopping for his newly-set apartment and it just flew out of my mouth by the time we returned here.”

“So a dinner invitation just flies out of your mouth- like, just like that?” (Y/N) had not seen it coming.

How could Cindy be so careless?

“Look, he is Namjoon’s flatmate and well…Hot? Like, girl, he was so damn handsome and nice and gentlemanly. It—It was a moment’s slip.” Cindy sighed and grabbed (Y/N)’s hand “Look, I’m sorry, if you want, I can let him know that we cannot host a dinner this evening, it was my fault anyway and—”

“No wait, that would be…rude.” (Y/N) sighed and flopped herself on the couch “Okay, this Saturday we will have Namjoon and his flatmate…”

“Jin, his name is Kim Seokjin.”

“Yes, Namjoon and Seokjin. We will have them for dinner. But you are going to do the cooking and all, the most I will do is grocery shopping.”

Cindy smiled brightly at her “Trust me, you will not regret it, they are nice guys - especially Jin, he has been nothing if not gentlemanly and amiable to me.” she continued to sing the man’s praises.

“Mhm, Jin, huh? You seem quite smitten by him, Cindy.” her comment did nothing to deter her roommate from continuing to talk about the charming roommate of Namjoon (Y/N) had never met.

And she had to admit, the man ought to be charming enough to have a girl like Cindy be infatuated with him. The term might be an exaggeration but the way Cindy was blushing and smiling so brightly, (Y/N) was pretty sure that her best friend had a crush.

How could she not smile at her friend’s happy face?

****

I could not resist, I have almost finished the first book and it is well above 25k words.

Hope you all enjoy it!

#yandere bts #yandere male #yandere rm #yandere namjoon #yandere namjoon x reader #the forest #bts yandere #yandere creature #namjoon x reader #yandere x reader #yandere creature x reader #supernatural creature

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onceuponablogging · 2 years

Text

꧁ Masterlist ꧂

— @crimson-kisses

|| Warning: Proceed with caution, this content will contain sensitive or triggering topics. Prioritize your well-being while engaging with the content and seek support if needed. Respect your boundaries and emotional resilience. ||

~ 🌻🐝✨

America & Nyo!America sharing a darling.

Germany & Nyo!Germany sharing a darling.

Prussia & Germany x reader Yandere for someone else.

Platonic Yandere Germanics & Hungary + Liechtenstein x an autistic darling with a dark twist.

Poly nyolietpol with a darling who rejects their confession.

2p!Italy & 2p!nyo!Italy sharing a darling || England & nyoEngland sharing a darling.

Specific headcannons:

Yandere Allies x Goddess of nature/healing! reader {headcannons & drabbles}

Yandere Axis x Goddess of nature/healing! reader {headcannons & drabbles}

Yandere Spain/Ukraine/Belarus/Belgium/Monaco x goddess of nature/healing! reader. {headcannons}

Yandere gods/goddesses Canada poly x short! reader {headcannons}

Germanic family + Hungary x reader & her sisters: family feud. {headcannons}

Yandere details about Prussia {thoughts}

Yandere Allies & axis x goddess of love/lust/desire! reader {thoughts}

reader gets pent up and gets caught by their captors {thoughts}

One shots

Breaking point - Germany x reader

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shini--chan · 4 years

Note

Could you do general headcanons of Nyo Belarus, Nyo Ukraine, and Nyo Belgium? Please and thank you.

Oh, things are now getting interesting.

Yandere Hetalia

Nyo! Belarus

Nikolai is a stingy man, so you wouldn’t be able to notice that he is earnestly interested in you. Not just interested in you, fixated by you and the idea of having you as a sort of possession. That is because Belarus is generally a stand-offish person and even when he would be obsessed with you, he would be discreet out it until he would have you in his grasp.

This would also be a side effect of him being in denial at first. It would be absurd and even frightening to go from feeling nothing to feeling so much. Such an extreme switch would completely throw him off cater and he would take some time solely to himself to figure out what this sick yearning would be.

Belarus would never fully expose himself to you in terms of emotion. He would see that as vulnerability, and he loathes vulnerability above all else. Any indication of weakness would be watered down or also just come out on accident. And even then he would seek to overcompensate and that is when matters could turn very nasty for you.

This would also make connecting with you exceeding difficult on his part. So, if he would be very desperate and kidnapping wouldn’t be a viable option, then he might try to bypass such difficulties by laying out a sob story. It would be a good way to garner your sympathies and ensnare your attention.

Yet, if he can, he wouldn’t opt for that solution. At best he would have a marriage arranged between the two of you, at worst he’ll do that, and that is even below kidnapping you on his list of ways to obtain you. Although kidnapping would be very appealing in a way. It would be an opportunity to express the fundamentally predatory part of himself. Then again, if it just wouldn’t be illegal.

He isn’t a nice man, and for your sake he wouldn’t change that. Belarus would be controlling, always keeping tabs on you, interrogating on your very thoughts and restricting you from leaving the house if he doesn’t put you under outright house arrest. You wouldn’t have any privacy since he would insist on being attached by the hip (if he can get away with it, that is. Certain duties may or may not make him have to leave you on your lonesome.)

Nyo! Belgium

Kind, cheerful and so very understanding, you wouldn’t notice anything until it would be too late. Alekander just has that upbeat boyish charm that is hard to resist. He is so caring, just how on earth could he be cruel. You would forget that people often contain opposites. While he is nice, almost the perfect man, Belgium can also be insurmountably cruel. Just pray that that side of him never sees the light of day when you around him. Being on the receiving end is never funny.

With you present, he would feel complete in a way that he never was before. With you gone, the loneliness would be even more suffocating. Slowly, he would start to yearn for you, because you would be the only one that would completely sooth that ache.

Of course, he would be tactful. In the beginning, he wouldn’t even realise what exactly he is doing, simply mistaking it for casual affection, or, god forbid, actual love. Such delusions would make him even more dangerous.

You’d probably go through the whole process of moving in together and the usual couple stuff – if you don’t reject him, and even then he would be persistent – all in all a pretty picturesque love. If it weren’t for the dark underbelly. Alekander would insist on keeping you by his side almost all of the time. It would be the sappy kind of picture of a couple that just need each other.

That wouldn’t be healthy and after a while you’d start to find him overwhelming and try to have some time for yourself, which would be neigh impossible. Belgium would also act drastically to the change of events and would lash out – likely in a physical sense as well. Afterwards, he would be shocked by his own actions he would desperately attempt to make up for his actions, only to end up abusing you for some grievance. And make up to you again. It would be a vicious cycle.

If you try to run away, then you would have really made him explode. He would perceive your escape as betrayal and would seek to retrieve you and make you repent for hurting him in such a cruel way.

Nyo! Ukraine

Igor is very motherly and would proceed to dote on you most of the time. He would care very deeply, just not in the way that would be ideal. His care would be cloying and clogging. Ukraine would be the stereotypical helicopter parent, just that he isn’t your parent.

He would see it as his ultimate duty to protect you and provide for you. And it most likely wouldn’t be in the way that you would like it. Protecting you would involve you locking you away, and if you so something stupid, then he would overexaggerate on that. Your cutlery would then just be out of that flimsy, white plastic and you wouldn’t be allowed to be anything usefully by yourself.

Ukraine would be cooking your meals, dressing and undressing you, run your baths and clean you. Somewhere along the line, he would deem you unable to do anything on your own without potentially hurt yourself so he would treat you like a butterfly child.

Providing you would be on the similar childish line. He would give you colourful clothes, and toys. He would paint your room in obnoxiously pastel colours and be very strict about what food you eat. No sweets if you’re naughty

On top of that, Igor would be patronizing. He knows what is best for you so no talking back, no temper tantrums and he dictates you financing. In those aspects it would really come to light just how incompetent he sees you in handling your own life. And to make matters worse, he would have a very rigid picture in mind of how you two should live and no amount of talking would make him deviate from that.

#yandere hetalia #yandere nyo hetalia #yandere belarus #yandere belgium #yandere ukraine #x reader #yandere x reader

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theyanderespecialist · 4 years

Note

Christmas with a pregnant!Reader with Male!Belgium, 2p!France, and 2p!Russia

On The Seventh Day Of Christmas Hello My Sexy Readers, On The Seventh Day Of Christmas I was late and my sexies gave to me a yandere Nyotalia Belgium and 2p France with a pregnant reader Anonymous said:

Christmas with a pregnant!Reader with Male!Belgium, 2p!France, and 2p!Russia

Now I am going to do male Belgium and 2p France in this but 2p Russia since I already did him once in a scenario for Christmas he will be in the next one with headcanons I hope you all enjoy this chapter here as well sexies!]

(Nyotalia Belgium)

(Nyotalia Belgium’s POV)

I looked at my wife as we dance in the room together, she was antsy and I knew I need to get her moving. She is pregnant six months with my child and I love being with her. She was hesitant on having my child at first. But I persuaded her that it was for the best. And here we are in our sweaters on a cold winter night playing music and dancing like this is always as it was meant to be She smiled and I smile back. I kiss her deeply and she kisses back.

It took so long but now she is mine and mine alone and I am not going to loose her. She belongs to me and now one else, mine~.

(2p France)

(2p France’s POV)

I was with my wife and love we were drinking wine, more so I was. She was pregnant and drinking sparkling cider. I know she would love to have a glass of wine, but neither of us wanted to risk our baby. I drink the wine and curl with her on the couch watching Christmas movies. This is always how it was meant to be, me and her as we love each other and our future child.

I kiss her and she moans at the taste of the wine. I smirked and we make out as the night comes and Christmas day was here, she is mine and mine alone. Merry Christmas to me.

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Another chapter done I hope you all enjoyed and stay sexy all my sexy friends!]

#yandere #yandere hetalia #yandere headcanons #yandere nyotalia #nyotalia belgium #male belgium x reader #yandere x reader #reader #2p france #yandere 2p france #2p france x reader #yandere scenario #scenarios

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lord-explosion-baku · 4 years

Text

Keep Away

Yandere!Bakugou x reader

It’s a special occasion, so Bakugou decides to wine and dine you. It’s too bad for him that you’re intent on ignoring him.

Warnings: yandere, dark themes, lime, forced orgasm, minor food kink, stockholm syndrome, spanking, light violence

A/N: I woke up at like three in the morning and decided to finish this. I saw a bad ending to a certain cyberpunk bl dating sim, and thought “would be kinda cool to be force fed cake,” but then it didn’t really turn into all that much cake feeding which is probably for the best. Who’s to say. It’s just kinda fun to say “it came to me during a cyberpunk bl dating sim bad end,” rather than, “it came to me in a dream.” Also, I’m so sorry if you read this and go “ew strawberry cake isn’t my jam. Belgium chocolate 5evah!!!!1!!” but if you do happen to like strawberry cake, I got you fam.

“So you’re not talkin’ to me now, is that it?”

You keep your gaze low, careful not to even lock eyes with your captor—because no, you’re not talking to him, you’re not looking at him, you’re not even going to acknowledge his existence. It’s your verbal keep away. You’ve decided that it’s the worst possible punishment for Bakugou—ignoring him. You’ve tried just about everything: screaming at him, hitting him, crying to him, begging for your release, and it’s all given you nothing. You figure, why be anymore of a source for his entertainment?

“You should at least thank me for cookin’ you a proper meal.”

From across the candlelit table, Bakugou uncrosses his arms, glaring from the admittedly very well-made plate, to you. He clicks his tongue when you don’t respond, then moans around a mouthful of pad-see-ew, just like he knows you can’t stand.

“It’s so good, baby. Practically melts on my tongue…”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at that. It would be different if it wasn’t his food he complimented, but that’s Bakugou for you. Insolent, prideful, and terrible.

Bakugou stabs his chopsticks into his plate. “You’re not wearing the dress I bought. Not good enough for you?”

You didn’t even try it on. You want to tell him, but that would only spur him on. Bakugou likes it when you challenge him. He always gets that stupid smirk on his face, that daring look in his eye—always like he’s ready to bend you over and fuck you into submission. More often than not, that’s what ends up happening.

“Your ass would look great in it,” he says before taking another mouthful. You can feel his crimson glower scorching your skin, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction. “You can wear whatever you want, though. I want your ass even in those sweats.”

You exhale and lean back back in your chair. He really has to be so vulgar, doesn’t he? Well, that’s not gonna make you crack.

“Yeah, I won’t force you in it. Not yet, at least.” Bakugou grins at the thought, chewing loudly. “I wouldn’t mind playing a little dress up with my doll.”

Your lip twitches, and you hope he doesn’t see. You have to squeeze your thighs together and ignore impending thoughts of Bakugou’s hands on you—first tearing your clothes off, then slowly, sensually zipping that tight, black dress up. You can’t keep from imagining his lips grazing your back, hands running through your hair, him pressing into your backside…

“Need some water, babe? You’re looking a little flushed.”

Your eyes snap to Bakugou’s and your cheeks warm even more when you realize he’s just caught you fantasizing. At least he doesn’t know what you were thinking about. Christ, you could only imagine the field day he’d have with you if he found out you ever thought about him like that.

After you’ve spent plenty of time hating yourself for having these thoughts, you’ve come to the conclusion that it has to be natural. In a psyche class you’ve taken, you learned a bit about Stockholm syndrome, and though you’re sure you’re definitely not falling in love with your captor, it’s perfectly fine that you occasionally think about him in the lusty kinda way. Admittedly, he’s earned it with the amount of orgasms he’s given you since you’ve been taken. But he hasn’t earned your love. Definitely not.

Bakugou stands, folding his napkin onto the table, and walks over to the ice chest he has on standby. He’s wearing his red dress shirt, paired with that white floral vest and nice slacks. You want to know what the occasion is for, but you won’t ask. You’re definitely underdressed, and a part of you wishes you had put on that dress he picked out for you.

You close your eyes and empty your mind of such stupid thoughts.

“How about some champagne?” Bakugou flips a knife out and cuts the cork off with a pop!, making you jump a little bit. He glides over to you, puts his hand on your shoulder, leans in, and fills the crystalline flute sitting on the table. He smells like spice and that natural burnt toffee aroma he has. It’s so nice that you can’t help but lean into him just a teeny bit. And he notices.

“You’re gonna eat somethin’ for me, yeah?” he whispers lowly into your hair before kissing your temple. You freeze while he moves down your neck, brushing a finger along the opposing side of your face, coaxing your head to turn. “Or are you not in the mood for Thai? We can always skip straight to dessert.”

Bakugou dips down to kiss you, but you turn so he misses and kisses your ear. He growls out a sigh and you clench your hands into fists. You’re waiting for it—for him to lose his cool. You don’t know why he’s trying to act kindly to you, but that’s sure to end at any moment, and when it does, he’s going to feel guilty. You’re planning on exposing him as the monster you’re always accusing him of being.

“I’m serious, I made cake,” he says, a slight edge in his voice. He twirls a finger around a strand of your hair, tugging it so you face him. “Your favorite. Strawberry cream frosting, and it tastes fucking fantastic.”

Bakugou’s gaze drops down to your lips before finding your eyes. “I could feed it to you—have you lick that sweet cream right off the tips of my fingers.”

Your scowl tightens on him. He smirks.

“Your lips always look the prettiest when they’re wrapped around something. I’m startin’ to really like that idea.”

“Why?” you bite out, because you can’t take it anymore. You’re either going to die from curiosity or die from embarrassment when he inevitably undresses you and finds out just how much his teasing gets to you, and you won’t let him have that.

Even still, Bakugou looks as triumphant as ever because you gave him what he wants: your attention.

“Why what, huh?”

“Why the dress!” You bark, resolve out the damn window. “The meal, the champagne, the cake?! Why are you trying to be so nice to me all of a sudden?”

“I’m not trying to be nice. I am nice.” Bakugou rolls his eyes as if he’s explaining something simple to a child.

“No, you’re not!” You insist. “You’re...you’re…” Shock sets in and your shoulders grow rigid. He couldn’t possibly be...but if he is...he’d be absolutely daft to think you’ll say yes. “You’re not proposing to me, are you?”

“Hah?” Bakugou’s eyes widen. You definitely caught him off guard, and you could melt from the steaming blaze in your cheeks. “You want me to put a rock on those pretty fingers of yours? Make an honest man out of me?”

“No! No!” You exclaim on a head shake. “I just thought...with the whole atmosphere-“

“Princess,” he interrupts, taking your hand into his. He brings the back of your wrist to his lips, and for a moment, you think you could be right about him proposing after all. At least, until he speaks again. “We ain’t gonna get hitched ‘til you’re good and knocked up—at least four months in, too. That way, there won’t be a chance in hell you can skip out on me.”

There won’t be a chance in hell he will knock you up with your IUD in, so good luck to him on that endeavor. It’s not like he doesn’t know about it, either. There’s a reason why he’s never been hesitant to enter you unwrapped. Although, considering what he just said, you don’t believe he’d be any different if the circumstances were different.

Your lips curl into a snarl. “Then what’s going on?!”

“You seriously don’t know?” He scoffs, then leads your hand to your champagne flute. Once you take it, Bakugou tells you he’ll be right back, and you down the drink. You let the bubbles wash down your throat and quickly take a bite of noodles before he sees. You sigh. They really do melt on your tongue. Bastard.

Before you know it, the faint smell of burning wics envelope your space, and all the lights in the room besides the candles on the table dim. Then, there’s a cake placed in front of you—pink, with intricate, white designs lining its frosted edges. You count the candles and there are exactly the same amount of years you’ve been on this earth, plus one—no, not plus one.

You look up to Bakugou for an explanation. He’s simply grinning down at you, looking proud.

“Happy birthday, baby.” Bakugou kisses the top of your head. “Make a wish.”

Absently, you blow the candles out, but you don’t make a wish, because your brain is too busy doing mental math. On your last birthday, you’d gone on a date with Hitoshi Shinsou. He took you to a cute, little café, bought you a coffee and a tiny cake. He’d ended the night with one of the shyest, sweetest kisses you’ve ever received. Not even four days later, Bakugou took you. You never got to thank Shinsou for that perfect day.

The hair on the back of your neck rises with the sudden realization that you’ve been with Bakugou for nearly an entire year. That’s one year of your life ripped away from you. One year where you haven’t made any progress achieving your dreams. One year that you’ll never get back.

“What’d ya wish for?” Bakugou asks, but you hardly hear him due to the scathing fury that rings in your ears and burns your back. You’re unsure of what you should say or how you should react; you already pulled the silent treatment and you think you’re far too livid to go zipping your lips again.

There’s only one thing you can do: go absolutely batshit crazy.

“I hate you!”

With a quick shuffle, the cake is splattered on the table, your plate flies across the room, and chopsticks are in your hand, aiming for Bakugou’s eyes. It’s too bad for you that Bakugou either expects it, or his reflexes are just so good that he catches you by the wrist before you can stab him. You’re immediately twisted around, chest on the table, arm pinned to your back, and his erection pressing into your ass.

“Yeah? You hate me?” Bakugou’s voice is erratic, husky, dripping with lust. He climbs on top of you, grinds into your behind, and hisses, “wanna say that again?”

“Let me go, asshole!” You below and try to buck him off of you, which only encourages him to pull your arm tighter, forcing you into paralysis. You grit your teeth while tears sting your lower lashes. The only weapon you have is your voice, and that’s always proven ineffective against him in the past. Still, you can’t stop yourself from yelling. “It’s been a goddamn year! I’m sick of being your prisoner!”

“Is that right?” Bakugou shifts, and you hear the sounds of metal clanking. You know instantly that he’s taking off his belt. You writhe as much as you possibly can, fearing a lashing. He hasn’t ever really hit you before, and though getting him to the point had been your end goal, taking the belt is a whole other level of pain you’re not willing to endure.

“Katsuki,” you pant, desperate. “Please, no. Please don’t. It’s...it’s my birthday!”

“You think I don’t fucking know that?” Bakugou releases your wrist, and goes for your hair instead. He yanks you back so that his chest presses against your back. His lips are against the junction of your shoulder and neck as he growls, “after everything I’ve fuckin’ done for you? Ungrateful little slut.”

He pulls your sweats down, cupping your ass roughly with his large, calloused hands. They feel good—his rough touch against your soft cheeks—and despite feeling fearful for the state of your ass, you can feel yourself getting aroused. “I really gotta put you in your place today of all days?” He squeezes your ass tight and possessive, like he owns it, and in the moment, you can’t really say that he doesn’t.

“No,” you cry and god you’re pathetic. You had this entire plan set up and now it’s barreling out of your control. As his lips graze your shoulder, you let out a sigh and say, “the cake was really, really pretty, Katsuki. I’m sure I would’ve loved it. I’m sorry I did that. I just…”

“Just what?” He rasps against your neck before his hot tongue draws a long line across your skin, making you shiver in response.

“I was just...overwhelmed,” you admit. “Our anniversary-“ you choke out, the words sour on your tongue, but you manage to make it sound sweet-“is just around the corner. I wasn’t prepared...I don’t have a whole lot of resources to do something special for you…”

Katsuki Bakugou sure is a lot of things, but he’s not a moron. You’re positive he can read your facade like a book and he’s certainly not one to play along. .

“Oh yeah? You wanna do something for me?” He sucks in your earlobe between his teeth, nibbling playfully. You mewl as Bakugou reaches around your body, large fingers moving down the front of you and sliding down your pubic bone. He dips two fingers between your lips, swiping smugly at the traitorous puddling at your core. “Is this really what gets you off, sweetheart? Lying to me just so I get a little rough with you?”

“N-no.” You try to sound stern, sure of yourself, but Bakugou is light to the touch, fingers barely teasing your sensitivity. You catch yourself grinding into them, directly resulting in your ass moving against his erection. You can feel him pulse against you, and it only makes your pussy throb in direct result, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Just admit you want me,” he seethes, pressing more firmly against you while his middle finger teases your entrance. “You like me like this. You don’t want sweet—you want me to be a hard ass, don't you? Why else would you act like such a slutty little brat? Good girls don’t get wet after shit like this, baby. Good girls don’t like to be thrown around.”

“Katsuki,” you say on a sigh while bringing a hand to his arm, hoping to direct him to break through your surface.

“Put your hands on the table,” he growls.

“Please.” You ignore him, pulling his arm more insistently, needing him to deepen his touch.

“This is the last time I’m gonna ask you; put your hands on the table, or I won’t hesitate to use this belt against your bare fuckin’ ass. I’ll lick you so good, you’ll have bruises for months. You’ll need to sit on a fuckin’ ice pack the next time I’m courteous enough to have you dine with me at my table.”

Shuddering, you obey him, planting your palms against the flat of the table, away from the splattered cake. Bakugou lets out a contemptuous scoff, brings your wrists together, and easily wraps his belt around them, tight and with no leeway.

He then pushes your shirt up so that it’s around your wrist with the belt, and pulls your sweats down all the way off of your legs. You’re virtually naked in front of him, with the exception of your bra and panties, helpless to do anything about it. Just like he likes it. He always wants you to bite back until he gets you to submit. He was probably enjoying your little silent treatment show, too; it was just another kind of rebellion, another barbel that he’s fought and won.

A tingle runs down your spine as he traces it with calloused fingers. You feel your stomach tighten from anticipation when he reaches your tailbone and his touch leaves your body. You hear him chuckle as he pulls at a strap of your thong, snapping it back into place. “At least I know you like the panties I got you.”

Pain bursts on your right cheek as the sound of his sharp slap ricochets around the dining room. You have to bite your lip to keep from crying out—even still, you’re trembling when he rubs the sore spot.

“Awww,” he coos, snickering. “You gonna try and act tough?”

You exhale, trying and failing to keep a steady breath, but it’s all wrong and you’re already panting.

“Show me how much you hate me, baby, I wanna hear you sing it.”

The next lick comes without any precursor, no warning, no time for you to brace yourself, so when he slaps your ass, you can’t help but cry out—ecstatic or indignant—it’s not your place to decide.

“Katsuki!” You fall forward, forehead on the table, inches away from the ruined cake.

He chuckles at your position, petting the back of your hair. “If you want me to stop, you’re gonna have to lick it up, Princess.”

Your eyes narrow and you shoot a sideways glare back at him. “I’m not a dog.”

His lips tilt sideways, cocky and annoyingly hot, cheeks red, brow raised provocatively. “You sure look like a bitch to me.”

He spanks you a third and fourth time, and your mouth hangs open with unspoken yelps, a familiar, shameful feeling traveling down your stomach to your throbbing heat.

Taking a second, Bakugou dips his fingers into the pink frosted mess in front of your eyes, and brings it to your mouth. “Taste it for me. I worked hard to get the flavor right,” he commands, smearing the cream over your bottom lip. You’re helpless to oblige. Only, when you stick your tongue out, he pushes two fingers into your mouth.

“Bite me, and I’ll have you tied up for the entire night. I’ll make you scream until you’re on the edge of passing out, then I’ll fuck you awake. I’ll use you—fill every hole you’ve got ‘til you’re nothing but a leaky drainpipe full of my cum. Do I make myself clear?”

“Mhmm…” Not wanting to test to see if he was just making empty promises, because he never makes empty promises, you glide your tongue around his fingers, aiming to please. You let out a soft, appreciative hum when you taste the sweet, strawberry flavored frosting, and suck his fingers clean.

“Good girl,” he says, his fingers leaving your mouth, only to dip back into the cake. He brings them back to your lips and you take him in willingly. “Now, I don’t want to hear another word out of that pretty little mouth, until I tell you to speak. Understand?”

You look at him with affirmation. He spanks you again.

Your body jolts, spit and cream drooling out of your mouth as you moan, trying not to utter a comprehensive word. The vibrations from the impact sends waves of pleasure dancing across your clenching heat. He hasn’t even really touched your sex, and yet, you feel the coils of an approaching orgasm winding up in the pit of your stomach.

The sixth and seventh spank has tears falling down your cheeks. The heat is too much to bear and you can feel sweat sliding down your back. You want to warn him—to request that he takes a break, because the oncoming shame that’s making your toes tingle and your heart race might be a little more humiliating than having him torture you for the entire night. But you say nothing, your curiosity besting your dignity. The next spank does you in. Your body shakes as you wail, your coils breaking while you pool out, thighs sheened with your arousal. There’s absolutely no hiding yourself, and Bakugou is going to be all too smug about this. You simply cannot believe yourself.

“No way,” Bakugou husks, fingers leaving your mouth. You’re panting again when he brings his fingers to your fluttering pussy. He pushes them in and all you can offer is a sigh when he’s up to his digits in you.

“Aww...oh no.” You can’t tell if his concern is genuine or not, but it doesn’t matter to you. You’re ashamed, embarrassed, and defeated. He’s never going to let you live this down. You can already hear his future taunts buzzing around in your head. ‘You can’t pretend like you don’t like me when I’ve made you cum just by spanking your perfect little ass.’

God-fucking-damn it.

He has all the merit to tease you for it now, and you’re expecting him to—hell, you’re practically bracing yourself for it, but instead, he pulls his fingers back and pushes your bottom over, so you face him.

“Ah~Ow!” You wince when your butt hits the table.

“Ah. C’mere.” He frowns and pulls you up by the belt at your wrist. You don’t stop yourself from falling into his embrace. He might be the source of all of your dread, but he’s also your only means of comfort. You let your tears roll onto his chest, muffling your sobs into his shirt. He hushes you, nails tickling your back as he kisses your hair. “S’okay, princess. You’re okay. I’m here.��

“I’m s-sorry,” you cry, and though your wrists are still bound, you manage to clutch onto his shirt. You pull him into you, shamelessly reveling in the familiarity of his scent.

“Hmm?” He lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “What for?”

Your lips tremble and you shake your head, unable to voice exactly what you’re sorry for. Climaxing? Telling him that you hate him? Treating him so poorly when all he does is take care of you? You shake your head again when the actualization of your situation sets into the forefront of your mind. There’s practically a river of tears streaming down your face now and you wish for nothing more than to do disappear, because you’re a stupid girl, there’s cake in your hair, and Stockholm syndrome is bullshit!

“What is it?” He insists, he is tone low, caring.

Dumb. You’re so dumb. Your brain is screaming at you to not say anything, but your skin still buzzes from the thrill of your orgasm. Despite loathing yourself more than ever, you’re practically high, both from catharsis and euphoria.

“I don’t...hate you.” It’s small but it’s there—your voice. There’s a lot to decode from your confession, and by the way Bakugou’s eyes soften just the tiniest bit, you know that he knows what you will not say..

His thumb brushes across the corner of your mouth, wiping away at some residual frosting, then brings it up to where your lips part.

“I know,” he says as you take him in again, swirling your tongue around his thumb, now enjoying the taste of the cake. “Of course I know.”

Your heart swells when he doesn’t laugh at you. He doesn’t even look all that proud of himself. He simply gazes at you with adoration and amazement—and, of course, lust because you have your lips wrapped around something. Prick.

“That was very hot, babe,” he says before kissing your forehead. “I really didn’t think that you could be so responsive to me.” He chuckles darkly, but it lacks his familiar malicious undertone. “Don’t really feel like I earned it, either.”

His thumb leaves your mouth, slides against your bottom lip, and is abruptly replaced with a kiss. Bakugou’s tongue teases your mouth open, then caresses yours with his. “Mmm,” he hums, the reverberations of his voice sending sensational buzzes down your neck. He nips at your bottom lip, then smirks against you. “Tastes good.”

He kisses you again, molding his lips perfectly to yours, and you feel his arousal poke at your bound hands. Not quite lucid enough to think it through, but feeling a bit mischievous yourself, you cup his girth through his trousers, rubbing his hard length up and down. You run your tongue against his, wanting to taste the power he has over you.

“You want me, baby?” Bakugou asks, pressing himself more firmly into your hands. “You wanna feel me slide inside that wet pussy of yours?”

Still not willing to give him a verbal confirmation, you squeeze his cock, legs wrapping around his torso to pull him closer to you. He growls when you have him grinding against your heat, a dark stain appearing on the prominent bulge he rubs against you. When he pulls away, you see that his pupils are blown, barely a sliver of his crimson iris to be seen. He looks moonstruck, predatory, and beautiful.

“Naughty girl,” he scolds, a tick in his jaw. He pushes you lightly, easing so that your back is on the table, your legs spread out for him. He groans when he runs a finger up your damp, clothed slit.

“I asked you a question,” he continues, playing with your core. He gets a dreamy look in his eye when he pulls your panties to the side, and feels exactly how wet you are for him. Then, he shoots a scathing glower your way. “Do. You. Want. Me. To. Fuck. You?”

“Yes,” you say with a nod. “I want you to fuck me, Katsuki.”

“That’s really too bad.” He snickers arrogantly and your heart falls into your stomach. Didn’t you just have a soft moment?! “Only good girls get fucked, pretty baby. You can’t confess your undying love for me and expect that gets you out of your punishment.”

“I did not!” You argue which earns you a dangerous look.

“You and I both know what the hell you meant,” he says with a threateningly sexy lilt. “You can’t take something like that back at the drop of a hat.”

”I think you’ve punished me enough already,” you bite out defensively, quick to change the subject, because you‘re bitterly aware that he’s right.

“And who are you to decide that?” He smirks, brushing a thumb across your pubic bone. “Thought you were my prisoner.”

“I didn’t mean that!”

“No?” Bakugou gets down to his knees, leveling his face with your center. “Actions speak louder than words, angelface.” He kisses your clit, making the same noise he does when he’s trying to bother you while eating, only when he does it on your cunt, all of your nerve endings catch flame and you’re spiraling back to needy senselessness. “Prove to me that you’ve earned my cock by riding my tongue.”

He’s nothing if not altruistic when he’s between your legs. He’s always been generous and dedicated to getting you off, but there’s something different about how he’s moving now. He uses the flat of his tongue and draws languid strokes up your entrance, taking his time while he swirls around your clit. He groans into you, and if the vibrations of his voice weren’t enough to finish you off then and there, his fingers sure as hell do it for you. He pushes them into you, reveling in the feel of your spongy walls hugging him tightly. He traces intricate patterns across your skin, mapping out the places that make you moan the loudest, just to be keen on teasing you for harrowing minutes. He’s going about this agonizing slow, but there’s something about him taking his time, rather than completely ravaging you to prove just how good he is at eating you out, that already has your walls clamping down around his fingers, your back arching, whimpers and pleas tumbling out of your mouth.

It hits you like a brisk wave crashing against the oceanic shoreline. First it was one liquescent sensation, then a pandemonium of your nerves roaring to life. Your thighs close against his head, locking him into place while your fingers twine with his hair. He moans into you, multiplying the excruciating thrill tenfold. You rock against his tongue, savoring this magnificently prolonged ecstatic escapade.

When your nerves cool down and you’re no longer twitching too much, Bakugou offers you a wry grin before licking his lips.

“Look at what a mess you’ve become,” he coos , kissing your shaking thighs, eyes locked on yours. “Was that all because of me, princess.”

“I...don’t think I’ve come so hard in my life.” You breathe, disoriented by the fact. “Oh my god.”

“That so?” He asks as his tongue travels up your thigh.

Bakugou fervently laps up your post-orgasmic juices all the way back up to your drenched cunt. He groans dramatically while his tongue dives back into you. You’re far too sensitive now, and he doesn’t stop—he likes having you squirm around, bucking your hips this was and that, all attempts at finding an escape for his erotic torture futile. Soon he has you spasming out of control for the third time this night, and he rides the waves of your grudging pleasure with delight.

“K-katsukiiii, pleeease!” You’re breathless, hot, and irrational. He has a large hand gripped tightly on your side while three fingers continue to curl inside of you. “I can’t t-take it anymore! It’s t-too much!”

“What? You don’t think you’ve got another one in you?” He keeps your eyes locked on his as his hands push your thighs farther apart, his tongue slowly gliding across your throbbing clit.

You shake your head, practically sputtering your pleas. “I will do whatever you want, so please-“

‘’S that right?” Bakugou grins up at you, smug and triumphant. He pushes you farther up on the table and climbs over you, one hand at the side of your head, holding him up—the other reaching out to grab a coin-sized piece of cake. He presses it against your mouth as he prompts you with an, “ahh.”

“Ah,” you mimic and he pushes the cake into your mouth. The moment you swallow is the moment his lips latch onto yours. You taste your headiness mixing in with the creamy texture of the cake and you can’t help but moan openly into his mouth.

Bakugou ends the kiss too soon, catching you out of breath and wanting more.

“You can be a good girl, can’t you?” His voice is raspy, thick with need, and you know he’s close to falling apart. You want him to. You need him to. He’s broken you, so it’s only just that he breaks sometimes too.

You nod, cautious to see what he’ll be doing next. He’s certainly not taking off his pants, which was the only thing he should be doing.

He moves your arms over his shoulders and leans down low, breath hot on your ear. “You’ll do anything for my cock?”

“Yes,” you sigh and wish more than anything for your hands to be free so tear his shirt off.

“Because you don’t hate me at all. In fact, you fuckin’ love me. You love everything I do to you, but you’re too stubborn to admit it. That right?”

You scowl ahead, teeth clenched. “Yes.”

He draws a line with his tongue against the most sensitive part of your neck, making you shudder, and asks, “yes, what, princess?”

You narrow your eyes. “Yes, I am stubborn.”

With a “teh!” Bakugou kisses your cheek and leads you up so that you’re sitting straight, and guides you both carefully off the table, sweeping you up to carry you so that you don’t step in any of the food you’ve tossed around. He cradles you in his arms, you half-naked, him fully dressed, and smiles sardonically.

“I’m not gonna make you say it, because it is your birthday, but I will have you know that your punishment is not over.”

“You’re kidding me!” You bark back, leaning away to look him in the eyes to see if he’s serious.

“Sorry, baby.” He laughs. “But I had a romantic evening planned out for the two of us and you just had to throw your little bratty tantrums.”

“What do I have to do—?”

“—to get me to fuck you?”

“Yes!”

“You’re going to take a shower, put on that fuckin’ dress, then we’re gonna do this whole dinner thing over again. If you can behave, then maybe—maybe you’ll get my cock. If not—well princess, history tends to repeat itself, but I was hoping we could act like a normal couple just for one night. Thought maybe you’d be into it too, but that’s not what you want at all, is it?”

“I...want to be a normal couple,” you say unenthusiastically. You’re not sure if you meant you wanted to be a normal couple with Bakugou or if you wanted to be free and normal with somebody else entirely.

Bakugou snickers, as if you said something childish. “No you don’t.”

“Because you think I don’t want to be with you.”

“Nah...I know you want to be with me. But you don’t want to be a normal couple. You want this, babe. You want what we have. You want the chaos. You revel in it.”

“Well, I—“ you begin, desperate to find an argument point that doesn’t make you sound dumb. Is he right? Do you enjoy this? Everyday is like a game with him, and it drives you up the fucking wall, but what would you be without it?

“I hope you can keep your self-control,” you retort flippantly, abandoning the argument. “Hope your dick didn’t burst your buttons, Katsuki.” Your gaze drops down to the tent in his pants, then snaps pointedly back at his face.

He’s absolutely unfazed. In fact, he’s more chipper than you’ve ever seen him—like he’s the cat who caught the mouse. “Just for that, I’m gonna join you in the shower. Keep my belt around those wrists and have you watch me wash myself—see all that you’re missing out on.”

You groan, head falling into his chest as he begins walking towards the stairs. “I really do fucking hate you.”

“Keep tellin’ yourself that, sweetheart,” he says back, a smile in his voice. “Just as long as you know that you’re not the only person here that knows how to play keep away.”

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