Spider Monkey

i have been SEARCHING for this fic again since i read it last year. a true masterpiece i am so blessed that it came up on my feed again🥹

❥ KATSUKI BAKUGOU X FEM! READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 2.3k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: a/b/o dynamics (alpha Katsuki/omega reader), knotting, age-gap (Katsuki is in his grumpy 40s, you're in college), he calls you "kid", fucking in a pool, some mention of sex toys, degradation, creampie

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God, he’s too fucking old for this shit. Too god damn tired of the animal that kicks against his ribs whenever the slick smell of a willing cunt passes his nose. 

“ ‘m sorry,” you whisper, rolling your hips to suck his cock deeper in your drooling pussy. He grinds his molars at the too-tight feeling. 

“Fucking brat,” he hisses and clamps his hands to your doughy ass, jerking you up and down his cock. “Knew you were trouble. Fucking told you to stay away from me.” 

Katsuki knew he would end up fucking the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed college girl the day you moved in next door. He tried to stop it, he really did, showing you his teeth and growling any time the sweet stink of your omega scent greeted him. 

Yet he’s the one who couldn’t help himself. Humid summer air brought your pathetic smell right to him, had him peeking over the fence that separated his house from yours like a fucking perv.

The sight of you in your little pool, desperate to cool your too-hot skin, bikini bottoms floating next to you as you shoved a dildo into your aching hole was his breaking point. 

And now here you are, stuffed full of throbbing, thick alpha cock. Because you begged him, all fat tears and plump pouts as your heat clawed at your insides. 

He might be too old for this, but he’ll never get tired of how fucking stupid omegas get for dick. 

“The t-toys just weren’t…weren’t good enough.” 

You’re pinned between him and the pool wall, lips of your cunt dragging along his length over and over again as you try to find release. 

Copious amounts of slick gush from you, making his thrusting easier. Pearly strings of your cream float around the pool, lost to splash of him fucking into you. 

But even still, he’s so engorged with blood and hormones ready to knot that his fat cock struggles against your gummy walls. You hiss, not from pain, but from relief, so happy to be full that no amount of stretching will detract from your pleasure.

“You’re fucking pitiful.” 

Shame briefly shines in your blown-out eyes, a bit of humanity peeking through the haze of animal instincts. Shit. This is why he hates this, why he’s tried to avoid all the breeding nonsense. Omegas are so emotionally squishy. 

Not that he’s any better. One pout from you as you locked eyes with him across the yard made him jump a fucking fence and plunge his cock into your weeping hole at two in the afternoon. 

“Just can’t help it, can you, kid?” 

Red eyes trace over the body he’s been trying so hard not to imagine. The triangle fabric of your swimsuit is peeled away from your tits, your nipples puffy from how hard you were tugging on them before he got his hands on you. 

A little mhmmmm-mhmmmm sounds from lips pressed too tightly together, your head lolling back as you keep bucking against him with your eager, exposed pussy. 

You’re a mess, all swollen and gooey and desperate. 

“Such a dumb omega,” he groans and wraps his arms around your back, pressing your soft body all the way against his, “fucking yourself out in the open. Wanted me to find you? Wanted the old man next door to fuck you stupid.”

“N-no,” you lie so easily. “Too hot, was too hot and couldn’t get off and—”

“Bullshit. You started splashin’ around out here just praying I’d catch your scent.” 

“C-can’t help it, pr-promise. You just always smell so fucking good, alpha.”

Makes sense now why you always seem to be out on a walk when he gets home from work, and why you always seem to need something from him. He was a nice neighbor and gave you his number when you moved in all on your own, a little omega lost in a big college town. You would message him for help around your place at least once a week—changing light bulbs, fixing a leaky faucet, even opening a goddamn jar a few nights ago. 

He told you several times to stop bothering him, yet you never could catch the hint that fooling around with an alpha was going to get you bitten. 

Relentlessly he pounds his hips, the buoyancy of the water making it effortless to hold you and fuck in deep. His thighs barely feel any strain, his back muscles rolling like a true predator as he starts to use his arms to pull you up and down. 

Katsuki slides his fat cock until it’s barely in your pussy, mushroom tip caught by the suctioning ring of muscle inside of you. Then he bottoms out, balls connecting with your ass under the water with a muted thump. 

“God, fuck, that’s good, so good,” you’re fucking loud, “feel so fucking good in my pussy.” 

“Christ, you wanna let the whole neighborhood knowing I’m fucking you?”

​​The fuck-drunk little smile on your face tells him that maybe you do. 

And he thought he was the perv. 

“You’re such a fucking slut,” he whispers furiously, kissing you with so much force it makes your back arch in his strangle hold. 

A thick hand wraps around your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, just leaves it there possessively as his tongue forces its way between your lips. You unconsciously moan, your own tongue meeting his, but he presses it down, not wanting it in the way. You give in, letting him encircle your tongue with his own so he can taste you. He pulls back to suck your bottom lip into his mouth, teeth roughly dragging against it.

“Like feeling my cock spread you apart, hm? Maybe I’ll get you a dildo my size for next time you wanna put on a little show.” 

You purr and it makes him want to scratch you to pieces. 

The burning stretch of your omega cunt is bliss. The smell of sex and chlorine sting his nose, make him lose it a bit and press so hard inside of you that his cock nearly meets the resistance of your cervix. Not that you seem to mind it—your nails are sinking into his wet shoulders, holding on for dear life as he fucks you in the heat of a summer afternoon. 

When Katsuki shifts his hips down, heavy cock sliding out of your tight hole, you bare your teeth and growl at a man nearly double your age.  

“Easy, tiger,” he tuts and drops you in the warming water, “turn around and let me hit it from the back.”

He loves that your instincts are to obey.

You turn your back to him with an indignant little huff, bending over the edge of the pool and waiting. Katsuki locks his arms around your thighs, pushing up and letting the water do the work. Your legs float open easily, spreading wide as he spears his way back into your slutty hole. 

“Ever been knotted before, kid?”

Looking over your shoulder, you shake your head, hiccuping as he works his shaft in and out of you. 

“Please, please, ah, knot me. Wa-wanna know what it feels like.”

He’s toying with an ancient fire, he knows that. One fat knot from an alpha and you might be begging to move in with him, but it’s worth it. Your pussy feels too goddamn good and he’s too worked up not to plug you full. 

Katsuki works you into an absolute frenzy, waves of water splashing onto the edges of the pool as you mewl and focus on how effortlessly he fucks you. Your walls meld to him, each thrust hasty and claiming, scented sweat steaming from the heat of your body and the blistering of the sun. His dick curves just perfectly inside you, cockhead purposefully brushing against the most sensitive, spongy spots within your depths. 

“Surprised none of your stupid boyfriends knotted this tight cunt before.”

“Wouldn’t,” your fingers are gripping the edge of the pool for dear life, like you’re gonna drown any second, “wouldn’t let them.” 

“And you’re gonna let me? Just a slut for older men?” 

“Slut for you,” you correct him with a bounce of your ass against his pelvis, “love a big, strong alpha.” 

He rolls his eyes at the shameless flattery, yet still the ego inside him flares to life. 

“Young, stupid omegas always think they can get whatever they want,” he growls, all while keeping a rough pace inside your body, watching how the water parts for the two of you grinding into one another. 

You give him a knowing gaze over your shoulder, sultry and coy. 

You are getting exactly what you want. All you had to do was get his attention, pry at his most basic instincts and now here he is losing his mind over the tight squeeze of your omega cunt. 

Maybe you aren’t so stupid after all.

But he’ll fuck you stupid, he’s sure of that. 

“I’m too old for silly games, kid. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

He proves his point by pawing at your belly under the water, pressing in until you can both feel how deep he is in your guts. The realization makes you whine, pushing hard back against him. 

“You think I’m just some toy to use during your heat?” Katsuki tuts, licking at one of his canines. “Just wait until I knot this stupid cunt and you beg me to keep coming back.”

A symphony of sex is ringing in your backyard, sounds of primal grunts, shrill little screams, balls slapping against your ass, water gurgling and splashing.

Any animal nearby knows what’s happening, that nature is running its course and you’re both nothing but senseless bodies looking for the simplest relief.

Katsuki slides the hand on your stomach lower, pinching your aching clit before he starts swirling it under the pads of experienced fingers. You start thrashing, cunt sucking so tightly he’s sure you’re hurting with the need to cum. 

“Pleasepleaseplease oh god please!” 

You shatter and his pride nearly bursts with you. Your cunt clenches, so pleased to cum around a thick alpha cock. You babble absolute nonsense, beg for his knot and a string of thanks yous and pleases and alpha alpha alpha dripping from your mouth into the wake of the pool.

The way your pussy squeezes him tells him you’ve been looking for this orgasm for hours, walls so swollen and pulsing. You must’ve been fucking yourself with useless toys since morning and finally got desperate enough to make a scene and get him to fuck you the way you needed. 

“Poor thing,” he coos, watching your cream float to the surface of the water. 

You’re totally mindless now as he continues to fuck you, body sloshing in the pool as he manhandles you to take what he wants. 

“Don’t even know if you can handle a knot, kid. You’re too tight.” 

That stirs you, makes you flatten your hands against the edge of the pool and push back to meet his rhythm. Over and over, you keep up with him, so fucking fraught to finally feel an alpha swell in your guts.

“Please don’t stop, please. Need to feel it, been in heat for d-days.”

“Oh omega, have you been fucking yourself silly with all the wrong toys, hm? Been stuffing yourself all alone in your room? Should’ve, ah, just asked me to come fix it.”

“You told me to stop b-bothering you…” 

“You’ll annoy me when your sink’s leakin’ but not when your pussy is? So fucking stupid.”

Only he’s starting to go dumb at the wrap of your cunt around him. The beast in his belly is raging, alpha instincts boiling in the summer sun. 

“C’mon, slut, milk my cock,” he pants and slams into you, lost in the way the water reflects around your curves and how your thighs are locked around his waist. He swears your body listens, some reflexive instinct that has your pussy clamping around his shaft until he can feel the veins of his cock squishing into your walls. 

The orgasmic build starts rushing up his spine, inflating the base of his cock inch by inch. 

“Holy shit, fuck~” you whimper at the first stretch of his knot. “Kat–Katsuki, ‘m so fucking full!” 

Finally he bursts, knot bulging into your gumminess until you’re plugged with him. His cum spills into your tight channel, filling you whole. 

Your sweet, stupid omega brain can barely comprehend the stretch. Another orgasm wrecks your body, has you falling face first into the pool. Katsuki scrambles to grab you, hoist you up and into his arms as you gasp and crest and cum all over him again. 

He can’t help but chuckle, easily maneuvering his back to the pool’s edge. He lets you calm down in his hold, your head falling against his shoulder as you try to breathe. 

“Get what you wanted, brat?” 

Katsuki pats your bloated belly, making you squeal as he rubs the heel of his hand against his knot. 

You nod dumbly, eyes closing to focus on the feel of him. He smirks realizing you’ll never forget him, your first knot. Omegas really are so emotional. 

Yet he’s taunted by the stupid bikini bottoms still floating in the water, mocking just how easy it was for you to boil him down to his base instincts. 

He’s too old for this shit. Especially as you start grinding down against his knot, cooing, reminding him you’ll be fucking him until your heat decides it’s done with him. 

y'all, should i change the look of my blog? my fingers are itching rn.

options:

visual ⟶ more headers for my posts and graphics, cute borders (like the ones with the bows n stuff idk how to make them but i'll figure it out🤷‍♀️)

colourful but simple ⟶ more gradient text, colour-coded hcs for characters and their names and dialogue like:

bf!katsuki is cute or whatever and says, "you're such a fuckin' brat, you know that right?"

maybe not this colour maybe like a solid colour but you get the jist. also more indents like above

cosmic ⟶ my name is star so maybe i should do like a star/celestial-themed page. like silver glitter and star borders, that 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐭.

if you have any other ideas, especially colours like if you like the current blue and a bit of yellow or if you think something else would look better, send them to me in my inbox🤭

imagine long-term bf katsuki being hung up on what engagement ring to buy you. he’s gnawing at his cheeks, constantly sighing and running his fingers through his hair for a couple of months, trying to find a ring that’s good enough for you.

after patrol, he browses every reputable jewellery store in tokyo, searching for your engagement ring. he takes pictures of every one he thinks might suit you and sends them to eijiro.

shitty hair: idk about this one man. diamonds are nice but y/n gives more garnet or ruby vibes

explosive: the fuck you mean? i have to get her diamonds

shitty hair: nah bro, you should get something that suits her. not every girl wants diamonds.

explosive: stfu i know what she wants better than you do

shitty hair: 🤷‍♂️ just my opinion man

you noticed immediately that katsuki was coming home later than he usually does. you didn’t say anything at first because maybe something came up, and he did seem really exhausted.

but as weeks turn into months, you become suspicious. what is it that your boyfriend's doing after work that you can’t know about. he hasn’t changed how he treats you. if anything, he’s been even softer and sweeter with you lately.

you decide to confront him about it.

you sit at the kitchen table, waiting for him to come home. as 8pm fades into 10pm and drips into 12am, your anxiety ramps up. your palms are all sweaty and your heart beats erratically in your chest.

you’re on your feet as soon as the lock eventually clicks and the front door is forced open. you stalk up to a sleepy katsuki, who flings his duffel bag on the floor with a sigh.

when he turns around, you’re looking at him angrier than ever. there’s fire in your eyes as you stare up at him, your brows knitted together and jaw tight.

you spit out, “where have you been?” katsuki blinks slowly, too tired to register your words and respond. he moves to throw his arms around you, but you step back, dodging his embrace.

this time, you repeat yourself with more venom, “where have you been?” you sigh, “i’ve been waiting for you since eight.”

he grunts thickly, “why’d you stay up, babe?” you roll your eyes and slightly suck in your cheeks.

you say exasperatedly, “because i was worried about you. you’ve been coming home late from work for the last two months now.” you fold your arms beneath your chest as you scold him, “so where have you been?! seriously, like, where the fuck have you been wandering off to while i make you dinner and do your laundry?”

katsuki shakes his head, whispering, “baby, s’not like that.”

you catch his words and scoff, “so then, what is it like? i clearly don’t know so why don’t you tell me?”

his full lips draw into a hard line as he huffs, contemplating whether to tell you he’s been hunting for the perfect engagement ring for his perfect girl… and that he’s finally found one. it wasn’t easy, especially since he has just put up with yappertron 3000 chargebolt, skateboard freak elbows, and shitty hair for the past three hours while acquiring this ring.

he bites his tongue, mumbling, “look, i’ve just been busy, yea?”

you chuckle derisively, “you’ve been busy? right, okay.” you turn around and begin walking away from him when he catches your elbow. his grip is firm but considerate.

he tugs you back, making you stumble into his chest. you try to shove him away, but he doesn’t even budge as he draws you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly.

you shout, “just fuck off, katsuki!”

wincing, he rests his chin on the top of your head and murmurs, “no more late nights, baby, i promise. at least not for a while.” his body is so warm against yours, and his musk is so strong. you give up your assault on his concealed but delicious muscles and still in his grasp.

you grumble, “it’s not about the late nights, katsuki. it’s about you keeping things from me.” he kisses the top of your head and rubs circles on your back with his calloused palms.

he mutters into your hair, “i’ll tell you soon, okay?” you shake your head before tilting it back, returning his soft gaze with your harsher one.

you murmur, “so you’re not cheating on me? or are you cheating on me but intend to come clean?” your boyfriend’s mouth falls open as he stares at you, his blond brows raised slightly. regaining his composure, his usual scowl is back on his face.

he grumbles, “cheating? why the fuck would i be cheating on you?!” he licks his lips and gazes past you for a moment, sighing, “for fuck’s sake, babe. god, why the fuck would i be cheating on you? d’you really think i’m a cheater?!” you shake your head, taken aback by his sudden frustration.

he shouts, “I’VE NEVER CHEATED! NEVER! NOT LIKE FUCK-ASS DEKU WHO DIDN’T EVEN HAVE A QUIRK AND THEN—”

you gently pat his chest as you try to soothe him, “okay, okay, honey, it’s okay. i know you’re not a cheater.” after a few minutes, he calms down (for the most part).

he grunts, “d’you really think i’d do that?” a droplet of his spit hits your eyebrow. you go to wipe it away but he beats you to it, apologising all the while. you reassure him it's okay as you stroke his well-defined back up and down.

you say softly, “of course not. but if you’re not cheating on me, then what else are you doing? i just don’t understand, suki.” he shakes his head before settling back into the crook of your neck; his resting place.

he murmurs into your hot flesh, “just give me a few days n’ i’ll tell you, alright?” you pull back, cupping his cheeks with your hands while his fingers clench the back of your shirt.

you shake your head, saying, “you can tell me now.”

he huffs, “babe—”

“no,” you cut him off. “tell me now. i deserve to know why you’ve been coming home so late.” he gazes down momentarily as his fingers curl into your shirt even more, close to tearing the fabric with how tight his grip is.

he mumbles, “stubborn brat.”

it’s like something snaps. he releases your shirt from his killer grasp and smirks. he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a velvety red, ring box.

he grabs your wrist and places it in your palm, saying, “that’s the reason.” he gazes at you expectantly, waiting for you to open the box. but you’re in shock.

your wide eyes bore into his narrow ones as you blink dumbly. your lips are slightly parted, open enough for the flies to make a home in your mouth. and they could with how little you’re registering right now. you can’t think or speak or move. all you know is that your long-term partner just placed a ring box in your hand.

katsuki rolls his eyes, attempting to hide the pain in his expression as you continue staring at him. he huffs, “well, are you gonna open it or not?”

you nod, your mouth awfully dry. you seal your lips as you shakily open the box. inside is the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. leaves protrude from the band and petals encircle a bright ruby glistening in the golden living room light; a rose. your gaze flickers up to him before switching back to the ring, and then back up to him.

you stutter, “a-are y-you, u-um, a-ask-asking m-me t-too—”

“yes,” he says solemnly. “you’re everything to me, baby. s-so, yea, will you be my wife?” you nod furiously. smirking, he takes the little box from your hand and slips the ring onto your finger. all the tension pent up in his body dissipates as he embraces you once more.

you squeeze his slutty waist tight as you begin tearing up, trying to process that your boyfriend just became your fiancé. katsuki sweetly kisses your forehead before resting his against yours.

he mutters, “i don’t tell you how much i love you enough. clearly like fuck. i fuckin’ love you, baby girl. more than you’ll ever know.”

a/n: link to the engagement ring design here (please lmk if it doesn't work); just imagine that it's a ruby and not a diamond.

their omega

જ⁀➴ chapter nine: ruined leggings

alpha! bakugou, kirishima, denki, sero x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — nsfw, handjob + blowjob, kinda femdom, kiri's rutting, bit of a blood kink, emphasis on consent and boundaries, smau + fic, 4.2k words

m.list

a/n: texts to eiji from your pov + '🌽⭐️s' gc from denki's pov + on my femdom campaign + no, omega's aren't like snakes + reader mentions stress around maintaining her appearance

fic underneath smau

also i give zero fucks about how humungous his cock is like… idfc if it’s the girth of a soda can and the length of a truck. i don’t need it that big and i don’t think that's a topic i’ll really be discussing unless the fic is specifically focused on size kink. average cocks are okay ladies and twinks and everyone in-between!

You’re at the grocery store in the snack aisle. Eijiro pushes the shopping cart as all real men do. He stands behind you as you look at all the snacks on the shelf.

You turn to gaze at him and say, “There’s so many. Which ones do you wanna get?”

“Get whichever you like, baby,” he says as he smiles at you gently. You nod and turn back around, focusing on your snack selection. Somehow, the household has already finished the bajillion boxes of pocky Hanta bought for you during his rut. So, you grab a couple of boxes of your favourite flavours and some others you know the boys like. You walk down the aisle, searching for anything familiar.

Eijiro watches as you pick up a bag of rice crackers and turn them over. He finds your curiosity heart-warming. It makes him relax, and he gets lost in his admiration of you.

And, of course, his rut is not making it any better. He wants to wrap you up in his arms, hold you tight, and not let you go until everything returns to normal. He’s so absorbed in his thoughts he doesn’t realise you’re calling out to him until you rest a hand on his shoulder.

“Eiji,” you pout. “Everything okay?” He stares at you dumbly, seeming to wake up from his daze.

He nods frantically and stutters, “Y-yea yea baby, I’m fine. Is that all you want?” You hum in response and walk down the aisle. His red eyes latch onto the holy sight of your rounded buns in those leggings. It makes him gulp nervously. He tries to tear his gaze away, but he can’t. Not when you’re walking so far in front of him, looking so delicious.

When you get to the checkout, you start piling the snacks onto the conveyor belt. As you bend over to reach your pocky, Eijiro looks down. He swears he doesn’t mean to! But good lords, does he need to get out of this grocery store and get you out of those leggings.

You put your pocky on the belt as it moves and greet the shop assistant. You look back at your alpha as he stiffly pays for the snacks and grabs the bags, not letting you carry a single one, of course.

On the ride home, he’s very quiet. Once you pull up to your home, you notice how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel from his white knuckles. He turns off the engine and just before he gets out, you place a hand on his bicep.

“Eijiro,” you say gently. “What’s wrong, honey? Are you feeling alright?” He glares at the dashboard with a tense jaw. He’s clenching it so hard you can see the veins popping out. You lean over to place your other hand on his cheek but he grabs your wrist mid-air.

He turns his head rigidly and says through tight teeth, “Please, y/n. I’m fine.” You whine at his harsh-sounding words. You nod and draw your hands back, getting out of the car. The boot pops open and you walk to the back of the car. You lift one of the shopping bags out but Eijiro’s already beside you, prying it from your hands.

“Go inside,” he says coldly. Much more coldly than he intended to. You hum-whine in response and let go of the bag. You power walk up the driveway, eager to give him some space. As you step inside, you kick off your sneakers and run up to the entrance hall. You head to the bathroom and freshen yourself up before going to the kitchen.

Entering, you see Eijiro putting the snacks away. You come behind him and help him unpack the snacks. He gazes at you with a creased brow and tight jaw every so often. Because, unfortunately for him, you’re still in your activewear. It only takes dropping a box of choco pies and you bending over temptingly to pick them up, which drives him over the edge. He snatches the box from your hands and throws it off to the side.

You squeal as he grabs your hips and pulls you into him, smashing his lips on yours. You cup his cheeks and arch your back as his thick, muscular arm encircles your waist. His other hand captures the squishy flesh of your ass. You moan into his lips as he presses his body firmly to yours, his erection flush against your lower tummy.

His sharp teeth graze your bottom lip and gently nip at it, causing you to moan louder. You melt into his hold as his tongue pries your mouth open and takes ownership of it. You move to his rhythm, however he wants it.

The way he dominates you… you know that he’ll keep you safe and make you feel good. Your fingers slip into his gelled-up hair and mess up the locks at the back of his neck. You mewl his name into his lips as both of his hands squeeze your ass.

You’re breathless by the time he pulls away. Spit connects your lips, making your alpha grin as the little strings snap. You look up at him with big eyes as you pant. He licks his lips and gently kisses you from the corner of your mouth to your hairline.

He whispers, “Sorry, baby. I just—”

You cut him off with a hum. “No,” you breathe out. “It’s okay. I understand.” You smile as you brush your nose against his ear lovingly.

He chuckles low in your ear, “No, baby. I don’t think you understand.”

You hum and challenge him, “What don’t I understand?” You pull back so that you can see his face. With his eyes on you, you look down, gesturing to the bulge pressing into you.

He clears his throat and says, “What you don’t understand is that you shouldn’t wear these tight fuckin’ leggings when I’m rutting. I’m like a fuckin’ predator, right now.”

You giggle, “Tell me something I don’t know.” You tilt your head to the side sweetly, encouraging him to go on. Eijiro looks away from you and takes a deep breath. As his kind eyes settle on yours again, he leans down and presses his lips back on yours.

This time, you kiss tamely. His large hands have finally moved on from your ass cheeks (for now); one now cups the back of your neck while the other rests between your shoulder blades. You moan as he has another soft nibble on your lower lip. The feeling of his sharp teeth biting down into your flesh like that unleashes something primitive within you. A desire that could be yours, or exist solely because you’re an omega.

As the flesh rebounds from his nip, you pull away. Lips ghosting his, you whisper, “Please, do that again.” No further instruction is needed as Eijiro kisses you and bites your lower lip once more. This time, he bites a little bit harder. At the pressure, you moan and grip onto his locks, pulling his head back slightly.

With a groan, he pulls back. His strong hands trail down to your hips and grip them tightly. He draws you impossibly closer so that your forehead rests against the crook of his neck. He lightly kisses the shell of your ear before nibbling down on it. The sensations have you mewling in his hold as his teeth pull on your earlobe before letting it go.

He whispers, “Need you so fuckin’ bad, babygirl.” You hum below his ear. He continues with desperation lacing his voice, “Can I?”

“Can you what?” You mumble into his skin. He sighs and squeezes your hips extra tight. You squeal at the tightness of his grip, calling his name. He lets go and gently rubs your sides up and down.

“Can I have you? Right here, right now?” He asks low as he sways your hips. You don’t respond for a little. As you think, you rest the side of your head down while your hands release his hair and wrap around his shoulders. You can hear the thumping of his heartbeat and feel the eternal heat of his body. You sigh into his embrace, moulding further to his solid frame.

At last, you say quietly, “It depends on what you want. And besides, we’re in the kitchen. Anyone could walk in right now.”

Eijiro chuckles, “They won’t. Well—” He shrugs. “Maybe Denki will. But the others will be repelled, trust me.” You laugh and lift your head off his pec.

“So,” you say as you raise an eyebrow. “What do you want from me?” He grumbles at your words and shakes his head.

He says low, “It’s not a transaction, sweetheart—”

You hum and chime in, “Of course not! I just mean, what would you like to do together?” He groans and thumbs the delicate skin over your cheekbone. He leans down and kisses the spot softly like you’re made of porcelain.

He draws back and says, “Honestly, I wanna bend you over that bench and have my way with you.” He nods to the side, signalling to the kitchen bench. You hum in response.

You take a deep breath in and say, “I don’t really feel like doing that right now.” And it’s true. With how worked up Denki had you just a few days ago, you were not ready for a part two to that. And definitely not one that involved penetrative sex.

Eijiro tries to hide his disappointment, but you feel the slump of his shoulders and see the velvety pink coating his cheeks. You cup his cheeks and pull his forehead down to yours. You close your eyes and enjoy having him close for a moment before breaking the silence, “But I’m happy to do other things like pleasure you.” He hums low.

“And I want you to mark me if you want to?” You say smiling. Your alpha pulls back and nods.

He kisses your forehead and sighs into your skin, “’Course I want to, babe. Is it really okay though, if we just focus on me?” You hum and nod. You smile wide and press a soft kiss to his lips.

You whisper sweetly, “I’d like nothing more.” Your alpha draws you into a passionate kiss. Your hands roam each other’s bodies as he pushes you back against the kitchen bench. You moan into his mouth as his tongue swirls around yours.

Soon, his lips are trailing down your jaw and neck. You bite the side of your lip as he nibbles on your soft skin. It drives you insane with how good it feels. Who knew you’d enjoy his sharp teeth marking you up like this? Your hands grip his shoulders as he sucks a particularly brutal hickey among the constellations left by your whimpering blond. You sigh with pleasure.

Eijiro’s lips brush over your freshly healed mark, and you moan. He drags his tongue across your neck just above the scar, making you squeal excitedly. He nips at the side, relishing in the sound of your pleasure.

Finally, he bites down to mark you. The squelching sound of his razor-sharp teeth piercing your skin has you screaming out in pain. And then, you moan in ecstasy. Your blood overflows and drips down his chin as he quickly pulls away. Your alpha licks his lips quickly before licking your bleeding wound. You chew on your bottom lip as you attempt to stay quiet.

Every lap of that metallic-tasting substance has you gazing at the heavens above. You’re so close. Just one more and you’ll be mated to all of your alphas.

Once your blood begins to clot, Eijiro stops licking and sucking on your mark. He gazes into your eyes and cups your cheeks, whispering to you how well you’re doing right now. You giggle and wipe off the streaks of blood staining his chin and neck.

“Here,” he grunts. He pulls off his shirt and wipes your hands with it (he’s such a fucking gentleman arf arf arf). Tossing it to the side, he asks, “You alright, sweetheart?” You hum and nod as a grin stretches across your lips. You press your forehead to his and you two take a moment to breathe.

His chest heaves with yours as he wraps his arms tight around you and pulls you into his embrace. All is quiet while you bask in each other’s presence.

You hum happily and gaze up at your mate. He grins down at you, and you lean up for a short kiss. You can taste your blood lingering on his lips. But rather than killing the mood, it only adds to it. Tasting the iron, you moan and swoon into him.

He kisses you in a way that’s so consuming and deep yet so tame; lips and tongue intertwine but don’t force. It’s a mutual kind of kiss where both of you are as hungry yet calm as each other. You both know that you have as long as you’d like to explore one another.

You gently push him back by his chest and say, “It’s my turn, okay?” He caresses your cheek while his brows slightly furrow.

“You sure you’re alright? You okay with doing this?” You nod enthusiastically and place the most tender little kiss on the tip of his nose.

You giggle, “Just relax. I know what I’m doing.” With his hands on your hips, he shifts your bodies so that he’s leaning against the kitchen bench. You smirk and stroke his chest and abs up and down.

You meet his eyes as you say, “Did I ever tell you how much I love your home gym?” He chuckles and kisses your cheek.

“Oh yea?” He mutters into your skin. You laugh and lean into him for a moment before drawing back. You stretch up and kiss his sharp jaw, your lips setting his skin on fire. He groans as you kiss down his Adam’s apple and suck on the tip of his collarbone. The little choked-up noises he makes for you make you grin all cocky.

You suck on the spot right below his ear, making him moan. Your hands glide down his firm abs one last time before you grip the waistband of his sweats. He grunts pathetically as you bite his neck harshly while your hand dips and grabs his stiff cock through his briefs.

You moan against his neck as you feel just how fucking hard and leaky his cock is for you right now. You’re embarrassed to admit it, but you love having these very attractive men whining like whores just for you (or is that just me😁).

You slide your hand up and down Eijiro’s length while you continue sucking hickeys all over him. Once you’re content with how purple his neck and shoulders are going to be tomorrow, you get down on your knees. You pull down his sweatpants and squeal as you see his bulge through those dreadful briefs. But you wanna keep them on for now.

Sucking in your bottom lip, you trace the outline of his heavy cock with your fingertips. He whimpers like the little slut he is as you apply pressure to his tip. You continue stroking him through his briefs until he bucks his hips into your hands, desperate for more friction. You remove your hands from him and pull off his your hoodie. You gaze up at him as you unclasp the hooks of your sports bra and slide it down your arms, releasing your breasts.

Your mate groans as you take off his boxers and throw them in a heap with your other clothes. You moan as you gaze at his dripping cock. He’s leaking so much pre-cum, and his head is so red and angry-looking. And his balls look so heavy. You cup them in one hand while your other hand grabs his tip. You squeeze the head of his cock as you lean in and suck on one of his balls.

Seeing you on your knees like this for him has Eijiro groaning and subconsciously clenching the edge of the kitchen bench. You take his other ball in your mouth before pulling back and spitting on his cock.

Grinning, you mix the pre-cum and spit and spread it down his shaft. Once you’re satisfied, you start jerking him off with both hands. Such rouses a delightful array of sounds from your mate.

You look up at him as you say, “Do you like that, baby? Want me to go faster?” He groans and bites his lip as his crimson eyes gaze into yours.

“F-feels so good, princess. Just k-keep doing that for me,” he grunts. You hum in response and continue your pace.

If you’re being honest, the sight of his weeping cock and the sounds of his pants and groans make your panties pool with slick. Right now, his pleasure is everything to you. You’d do anything to keep him moaning and spilling pre-cum. As long as he likes this and feels good, that’s all that matters to you. You do wish though, that you had taken your leggings off before you started jerking him off, as your hands are far too sticky right now to touch anything but your alpha’s cock.

You shift up on your knees and bring his cock to your mouth.

As soon as your lips are wrapped around his leaky tip, Eijiro rasps, “Fuck! Baby, fuck!” Your mouth is so fucking hot and wet it makes his eyes roll back. You suck on the tip before sliding down his shaft.

You take as much of him into your mouth as you can (which admittedly isn’t as much as you thought it would be) before pulling back. With both of your hands wrapped around his base, you bob your head up and down on his cock.

Your mate moans loudly, feeling your searing tongue pressing hard on his underside. The stimulation makes his knees feel weak. But he’s a man, and after resting back on the bench for a minute or two, he stands unsupported on his two feet.

His hands thread into your hair while he praises you, “Such a good fucking girl for me, baby. Taking me so well.” You moan on his cock. The vibrations from your mouth trigger a fresh batch of pre-cum to spill down your throat. Being the good girl that you are, you suck even harder on his cock and gulp down his pre-cum.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “Tryna milk me, aren't cha?” You moan even more around his length, desperate to make him drip even more. He curses as even more of the salty cream spreads across your tastebuds.

You keep sucking him for a couple of minutes before he grunts out, “Fuck, baby! Stop! Stop!” Confused, you immediately stop and pull off his cock. You crane your head up and gaze into his lust-hazy eyes.

You tilt your head to the side and ask, “What’s wrong, Eiji? Did it not feel good or—”

“No,” he cuts you off. You stay quiet as he takes a few deep breaths. As he does, you notice that you’re panting too. You take the time to calm down with him.

“No, baby, you’re perfect. You’re so perfect,” he sighs and smiles down at you. You nod, and he continues, “Just wanna try something else. That okay?” You hum in response.

Eijiro grabs his shaft and motions with his finger for you to come closer. You obey and he slides the tip back between your lips. You suck on it hard and he moans. One hand tangles in your locks and pulls you off his cock.

“Just let me, yea?” He grunts. You hum and take his head back in your mouth. He lets go of his base and curls his other fingers into your hair. Holding your head, he slowly bucks his hips, fucking his cock into your mouth. He pushes in until his balls hit your spit-soaked chin. You choke on his length and gasp, causing him to draw himself out completely.

“You okay, bub?” He says, concerned. His brow is creased as he stares at you with wide eyes. You nod, and he pushes all of your hair back before bringing his hips closer to your face. You grab his cock and guide it into your mouth. This time, he eases most of it into your mouth before drawing back out. And then pushing back in.

Your mate builds up a steady rhythm of fucking your pretty mouth with his cock. You rest your hands on his thighs and focus on breathing through your nose so you don’t choke.

When Eiji’s eyes aren’t on your pouty lips wrapped around his shaft, or rolling to the back of his skull, he’s gazing into your doe eyes. They look so big and innocent, deliciously contrasting the rather unholy things you’re doing to each other right now.

His hips rut faster as he feels that tight coiling in his stomach. He pants and groans as he hits the back of your throat over and over again with the tip of his cock. You moan around him as he keeps fucking your mouth.

Suddenly, he pushes your head down until your nose tickles his neatly trimmed pubes. You choke on his cock, but he pushes his length in slightly more. Your eyes water as you stare up at him, watching his sharp teeth grit. He then fucks your throat with quick, rough, and small thrusts. Your fingers press into his toned thighs as you gag on his cock.

He grunts out between thrusts, “Yea, fuck-baby that’s it. Good girl. Just a little more f’me, yea? Almost there, pretty girl.” You whine on his cock as tears drip down your cheeks.

Eijiro pulls out slightly as his knot swells. At once, you feel his hot seed shoot down the back of your throat. Your squeal is muffled as you pull off his cock and jerk him with your hand.

His cum spills down your chin and chest, and you cover your mouth with your other hand as you cough from the thick cream coating your throat. He groans your name loudly as he watches his cum drip down your beautiful tits and tummy.

By the time you’re jerking those last little dribbles of blazing white seed, you’re absolutely covered in it. Luckily, you’ve stopped coughing and now, you’re just crying a little. With a whine, you stand up.

Your alpha pulls you into his arms. He rubs your back with his wide hands and brings your face to nuzzle into his neck. You hold each other as you both calm down. He gently cups your cheeks and pulls your head back so he can look at you.

He thumbs your under-eyes, wiping away your tears. He then wipes the seed from your lips and chin with his fingers. You laugh sweetly as he looks down at his fingers. You lean forward and brush your nose against his.

“So messy, aren’t you?” You tease him. He chuckles and kisses you tenderly. You moan into his lips and move your hands to his chest, feeling the sticky mess of his cum covering the both of you.

He can taste himself all over your lips and tongue. The saltiness makes him groan. He nips your lower lip just the way you like it, making you mewl.

He draws away and nuzzles your neck, asking softly, “Let me clean you up?” You giggle and rest your head back on his shoulder.

You hum and say, “Okayyyyy. But no fooling around in the shower. Denki’s already tired me out for the next month.”

He chuckles low and grumbles, “Fucker.” He grabs you beneath your knees and carries you across his body.

As he walks to the bathroom, you ask, “But what about the kitchen? I think we made a mess there too.”

Eijiro hums, “Don’t worry ‘bout it, princess. I’ll clean it up after I put you to bed. You must be exhausted.” You nod, noticing how easily he carries you with one hand while he slides the bathroom door open.

You mumble into his warm, tanned skin, “I am. That’s so embarrassing.” He sets you down in the shower and turns on the water.

Shaking his head, your mate says, “No, it’s not. You have to handle all of us. It’s not a surprise you’d be tired.”

You hum, “But I’ve barely done anything.” He steps forward and gestures to your leggings. You bite your lip as you look down, seeing how ruined they are from his cum.

You nod and say, “Yea, go ahead.” Eijiro steps close to you and crouches down, shimmying your leggings down.

As he does, he says, “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re not used to this yet.” You hum in response while your hands thread through his wet, red-leaking locks.

“Hey Eiji,” you say quietly. He hums as you step out of your leggings. “You owe me a new pair. You know that, right?” He throws them out of the shower in the corner of the bathroom. He then wraps his strong arms around you and draws you under the water with him.

He chuckles above your ear, “Sure do.”

taglist - @qyuin @nervoussangel @xxdiaqiaoxx @misscaller06 @kksmush @cielito--lindo @kennygou @tnywabbit @ita606 @sweet-apple-acres

their omega

જ⁀➴ chapter one: good purchase

alpha! bakugou, kirishima, denki, sero x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — angst, hurt/comfort, you get dropped off to your new home, smau + fic, 1.7k words

m.list

a/n: '🌽⭐️s' gc from denki's pov

fic underneath smau

You open the passenger door of the dealer’s car, looking out at the beautiful house that you will soon call home. Not willingly of course. The dealer grunts at you to get out of the car, and you obey. Your skin is like porcelain it’s so flawless and delicate looking. That is of the skin revealed by your basic dress. The dress that is worn by all of the omegas when they’re taken to their new ‘home’. But beneath that dress was bruised skin and aching muscles.

You shut the door beside you and do your best to remain expressionless as you walk to the black-coloured gate. It slides open, revealing a blond man. He looks sheepish and you can smell him from where you are. His scent is overwhelming. Something sharp, tangy, citrusy even. It makes you gulp.

He comes over to you both and shakes the dealer’s hand.

“Hey,” he says, drawing his hand back. He turns to look at you, his golden eyes focused on your own. He holds your gaze, making you whine. At the high-pitched sound, he chuckles nervously and looks back at the dealer.

“So,” he starts. “Do I need to sign anything or?” The dealer nods and pulls out the contract. The contract signing your life away to this alpha. You notice how agitated the blond seems, tapping his foot as he reads over the agreement.

“Didn’t I sign this last night?” he asks with a creased brow.

The dealer replies, “That was for the buying price and handling fees. This is the terms and conditions of your purchase.” The blond nods and signs the paper, officially taking ownership of you. The thought, the sight has you crying out internally. You want to scream and run; escape. It doesn’t matter if you get caught later, you have to try now.

You gulp and start looking around with wide, frenzied eyes. You notice the neighbourhood isn’t busy. You have no idea where you are, of course. You are fairly new to Japan, and then you happened to get kidnapped and well… Even if you run for it right now, there’s no way you can make it down the street before the dealer drags you back here.

“You’ve made a fine choice, Mr Kaminari,” the dealer grins. He shakes the blond’s hand again before giving him his copy of the contract. The dealer then turns to you and says, “You.” He grabs your elbow tight and pulls you into his side. You yelp out in pain. Your eyes are even wider than before as you stare at the blond before you. He watches this interaction with a frown.

The dealer whispers in your ear, “Be good. Just like we practised, yea?”

The blond clears his throat and says, “She’s mine now, so you can back off.” The dealer lets go of you and leaves. As you watch his car drive away, the man in front of you stares at you. His eyes trail over you, taking in how god-awful that dress looks on you. Maybe it’s their marketing scheme, he thinks. Present wrapped so terribly you gotta tear it off immediately.

He laughs nervously as he says, “So…” You gaze back at him, expecting him to grab you and force you into his house just like all the other girls told you the alphas would once you were sold off. He has such sweet features, you think. Most alphas had sharp features, but he looked very boyish even though he would have been what? 25? 26?

“Do you, uh, wanna come in?” He finally says. You nod falsely. You want nothing more than to NOT go inside that house but you don’t have a choice. He owns you now.

You two walk through the gate and up to the house. You stay behind him, watching him carefully before looking at the exterior. The garden is overgrown but the house up ahead is quite nice. Minimalistic yet stylish.

Your quads cry out as you walk up the few steps to the front door. He opens the door and the scent inside washes over you. Like a riptide, it drags you under until you’re surrounded. And you realise it’s not just his scent but a mixture of them. You’re silently praying to the lords as you take a step inside that he had friends over last night or something. The last thing you want is to be owned by an alpha, let alone be shared between alphas.

You’re choking back tears as you take off your shoes, following the blond’s lead. You can hear the thump of footsteps drawing closer, confirming your suspicions. You gulp and look up at the blond with big, glassy eyes. And he looks back at you dumbfounded.

Your gaze flickers to the red-haired man who walks down the entrance hall towards you two. He’s tall and is wearing an apron with the words ‘MAN APRON’ on his chest. He smells earthy, you note. As he comes to the edge of the main level, the blond turns back to look at him.

The blond whines, “I told you to look presentable.”

The red-haired man laughs and says, “Like you look any better.” The blond grumbles as the other man chuckles.

“So,” the redhead says as he looks at you. “Where’re your bags?” You choke back a sob and you shake your head. You don’t think you’ll be able to stop yourself from breaking down if you speak. His short brows furrow as he stares at you. He gazes back to the blond and says, “Where the fuck are her bags?”

The blond exclaims, “Oh shit! I think the dealer drove off with them. Hang on—” He pulls out his phone. “I’ll call him now.” The redhead groans.

“No!” You cry out. Their attention snaps to you, both staring at you with wide eyes. You gulp and say, “You don’t need to do that. I-I don’t have any-any bags.” You got real quiet at the end there as your thin control over your emotions ceases to exist. All of it comes rushing forward at once and swallows you whole. Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you look down at your bare feet. You sniffle and wipe your nose with your hand.

Someone clears their throat and you look up, catching the end of a glance between the two men. The redhead looks at you and motions you forward with his arm. You obey, stepping onto the platform. You sniffle as you slip on a pair of way too big house slippers.

He wraps a muscular arm around your shoulders and guides you into the house. He says softly, “I’m sorry. This must be very frightening for you, huh?” He rubs your shoulder as you walk. You keep sniffling and cry into your hands, paying zero attention to where you’re going.

He continues, “Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll get you some water?” You rub your eyes with your hand and look down at the table and cushions. You nod and sit down on the first cushion, placing your elbows on the table and sobbing into your hands.

You feel a warm hand on your back and you flinch. You look up and see the blond kneeling next to you. His gaze is gentle, and his full lips are in a pout. You return to crying into your hands. Your shoulders tremble as your chest heaves from your sadness. You’re too focused on the fear and anxiety wracking through you to notice the red-haired man place a glass of water in front of you.

As you cry, the two alphas stare at each other and mouth their confusion. The redhead points to you while the blond while the blond shrugs. You stay like this for a bit, just getting out all of the feelings you have locked up deep within for the past month.

Once your sobs become quieter and trail off into jolty sniffles, you look up and reach for the glass of water. You gulp down the entire thing in one go before going to wipe your eyes with your hands. You whimper as a large hand catches your wrists. You see the redhead looking at you, gaze soft as he holds your hands.

He shakes his head at you before nodding to the tissue box the blond is holding. The redhead grabs one and starts dabbing your cheeks and eyes with it. His touch is careful and light like he’s afraid of breaking you. Like you’re so delicate, he doesn’t want to leave a mark behind if he’s too harsh.

The gesture has you on edge. A gesture so sweet and caring that has you second-guessing your impression of him. You were expecting them to tell you to shut up once you start crying, not be so patient and attentive. Did you misjudge him? Both of them? Or was this all an act to gain your trust and then breed you against your will?

Such thoughts trigger more sobs from you. The redhead lets go of your hands as you pull them back and return to your former position to cry.

The blond leans over to the redhead and whispers, “I think you made it worse.”

The redhead scowls at him. He stares the blond down before eventually sighing and saying low, “You should give up your room then so she can have some privacy.”

The blond scoffs. He whisper-shouts, “As if! Why don’t you give up your room, manliest man?” The redhead frowns at this but thinks it over. If it would get you to stop crying… But maybe it would make it worse since it smelled of him so strongly.

You sniffle particularly loudly and shift back, wiping your eyes with your arm. Your voice is heavy with sadness as you choke out, “Wh-where’s t-the bath-bathroom?” The alphas look at each other before the blond helps you stand up and leads you down the hall. He slides open the door and gestures for you to enter. You scramble inside, and he shuts it behind you.

You jump up onto the edge of the sink and sit there, crying and crying for what feels like forever.

taglist - @qyuin @nervoussangel

okay so i'm not a lads acc but holy truck this was a masterpiece. everything like the dialogue was written so well. the characterisation, the tension, the imagery. all of the interactions felt so natural and dynamic.

need this on my page so i can re-read it a bajillion times!

petty | sylus

synopsis : You thought a harmless prank—some red dye, a little glitter—would be funny. But Sylus, your cold, calculating boyfriend, doesn’t get mad. He gets petty. Now your closet’s organized by emotional damage, your coffee machine brews herbal tea, and your Evol is locked by a containment cuff—right after he kissed you breathless and chained you to a console like it was foreplay. Meanwhile, Luke’s set the kitchen on fire, Kieran’s crying over decaf, and Sylus just smiles like he’s already won. Which okay, he already did.

content : fluff, chaos, N109 Zone au, just sylus being petty af, imagine: rom-com and slapstick comedy

writer’s note : i had this sitting in my drafts for so long LOL

You have no idea how you ended up here.

It was just a silly prank. One you decided—no, more like bullied—into pulling on Sylus.

Luke had that look in his eye, Kieran had that grin, and between the two of them, you’d made a series of very poor decisions.

It started out harmless.

Overheating the dryer until his clothes shrunk just enough to make him glare at his reflection in irritation.

Switching out his toothpaste with mint chip ice cream—cold, foamy, oddly sweet.

Juvenile, yes, but survivable.

But then Luke, bored of mild chaos, decided to up the ante.

Red dye. In Sylus’ face wash.

You should’ve stopped him.

You really should’ve.

Now you’re backed up against the cold steel wall of the corridor outside your shared quarters.

Sylus stands in front of you, arms braced on either side of your head, caging you in. His body radiates heat like he’s just stepped out of hell itself.

And his face?

Still damp.

Streaked red.

A slow, uneven flush blooming down his jaw and neck like a war paint disaster.

You press your lips together to stifle the laugh climbing your throat.

Not because you’re afraid—well, okay, maybe a little—but because if you so much as snort, you know he’ll make you regret it.

He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you.

That unreadable, razor-edged stare.

Like he’s measuring the weight of your existence against the trouble you’re worth.

“Sylus,” you start, trying for innocent. “It was—”

“A prank,” he finishes for you, voice low, smooth. The kind of calm that usually precedes mass destruction. “I gathered.”

You open your mouth again, but the words die as he leans in closer, the tips of his silver hair grazing your forehead. His breath ghosts against your cheek.

“You find this funny?” he murmurs, voice like smoke and ice. “My face. My dignity.”

You hold your breath, eyes flicking up to meet his.

“I mean,” you squeak, “you do pull off crimson rather well…”

He doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t smile.

He just tilts his head slightly, gaze trailing down to your lips.

“I see,” he says.

You swallow.

“Sylus?”

He shifts forward, just enough that your bodies nearly touch, and then—click.

You glance down. He’s handcuffed your wrist to the pipe behind you.

One-handed. Effortless.

“What—wait, Sylus!”

He steps back, unhurried, brushing red-streaked water off his jaw with the back of his hand. He looks so composed now, it’s almost unfair.

“I’ll be in the lab,” he says casually, already turning away. “Don’t worry. Luke and Kieran are next. But you…”

He pauses at the doorway, glancing over his shoulder, “You can stay there and think about what you’ve done.”

“Sylus.”

“I’ll come back when I’ve decided how to retaliate.”

Your jaw drops. “You’re not serious—!”

He disappears around the corner, his footsteps fading.

You stare after him, wrist tugging against the cuff. “You petty, beautiful menace!”

And somewhere down the hall, you swear you hear him laugh.

You struggle against the pipe for a solid five minutes.

Nothing.

Sylus had apparently decided that if he was going to cuff you, it would be with reinforced titanium-grade handcuffs.

Because of course he would.

You’re still trying to twist your wrist free when two familiar figures round the corner, arguing loudly.

“—I told you he’d murder us, Kieran.”

“No, you said he’d probably murder us. I figured we had a 20% survival rate if we ran fast enough—oh.”

They freeze when they see you.

You, handcuffed to a wall like some criminally adorable hostage. Hair slightly tousled.

A vein twitching in your temple.

Luke whistles low. “Damn. He actually cuffed you?”

“What was your first clue, Sherlock?” you snap, yanking on the cuff. “The literal metal restraint on my wrist or the rage in my eyes?”

Kieran winces. “Hey, hey, don’t be mad at us—we didn’t put the dye in the face wash.”

“You told Luke to do it!”

Luke, affronted, points at Kieran. “You told me you cleared it with her!”

“I said it would be funny! That’s not the same thing!”

You groan and let your head thump back against the wall. “I’m going to kill both of you. Slowly. With a spoon.”

Luke bites back a grin. “I don’t think Sylus is done with you yet.”

“Un-cuff me before I scream loud enough to summon the Onychinus agents.”

Kieran rummages through his pockets. “You think he left a key?”

“Oh yeah,” you deadpan. “I’m sure Sylus, the most paranoid man alive, just happened to leave a key to his special-grade cuffs on me.”

Luke pulls something out of his jacket and grins. “Good thing I have my trusty lockpick set.”

You squint at him. “Why do you have that?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”

Kieran leans in beside him, watching like this is a group project. “Careful, if you scratch her wrist again she’s going to throw you into traffic.”

“I will throw you into traffic,” you mutter.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry,” Kieran beams.

“Touch me and I’ll break your fingers.”

Luke finally clicks the lock open with a satisfying snap. Your wrist comes free, and you stretch it, rubbing the sore spot with a glare that could melt steel.

“Thanks,” you say flatly. “Now run.”

“Run?” Luke blinks.

“Yes. Run. Before he comes back.”

The overhead lights flicker.

The three of you freeze.

“…That’s him, isn’t it?” Kieran whispers.

You look up slowly, the temperature in the corridor dropping by a few ominous degrees.

“I think he’s coming to check if I’ve learned my lesson,” you murmur.

Luke’s already halfway down the hall. “NOPE. I’M OUT—”

Kieran grabs your hand and drags you after him. “We live in fear now. This is our life.”

Behind you, the sound of measured footsteps echoes through the corridor.

And somewhere between breathless laughter and panic, you realise, this isn’t over.

Not even close.

You bolt through the corridor with Luke and Kieran like you’re fleeing an exploding reactor.

“He’s definitely tracking us,” you gasp.

“He has cameras everywhere!” Kieran hisses. “We’re screwed!”

You dive into the living quarters and slam the door shut behind you. Luke immediately ducks behind the couch. Kieran throws himself dramatically into the pantry.

You stand there for a beat, hands on your hips.

“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever been involved in.”

“You’re welcome,” Luke’s muffled voice replies from under a throw blanket that’s doing absolutely nothing to hide his legs.

You sigh, yank open a cabinet, and cram yourself inside.

There’s a broom, a vacuum hose, and a suspicious packet of cookies you’re pretty sure expired last year.

“Kieran,” you call through the cabinet slats. “Are you eating?”

“…No,” he says with his mouth full.

“I swear to every celestial body—”

Footsteps. Slow. Measured.

Near.

All three of you freeze like a trio of amateur criminals hiding from a prison warden.

The door creaks open.

You hold your breath.

Nothing.

No words. No movement.

Just the sound of the wind outside the window and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“I know you’re hiding,” Sylus calls out. Calm. Even. Like he’s enjoying this.

Luke lets out a soft, wheezing squeak from under the blanket.

You slap your palm over your mouth.

Kieran drops a packet of crackers and panics. “Shit, he’s bluffing! He’s bluffing!”

You burst out of the cabinet. “He’s NOT bluffing!”

All three of you scramble again, crashing into each other like some bootleg spy movie.

Kieran ends up tangled in curtain strings, Luke slams into a chair, and you leap over the kitchen counter and miss, landing with a loud thud.

You’re wheezing on the floor when Sylus walks in.

Unbothered. Unhurried.

Looking like an avenging angel with red-streaked remnants still faintly staining his jawline.

He folds his arms and surveys the disaster with something suspiciously close to amusement.

He walks past Kieran, still suspended in the curtains like a very dumb chandelier.

Past Luke, now pretending to be unconscious on the floor.

Past you.

He doesn’t say a word.

Not a glare. Not a threat. Not even a smirk.

Just a quiet, “Clean up after yourselves,” as he heads into his study.

The door shuts with a soft click.

“…That’s so much worse than yelling,” you whisper.

Kieran groans. “He’s plotting. He’s going to take us out one by one.”

Luke peeks from behind the couch. “He knows we’re scared. That’s why he’s letting us marinate.”

“I hate both of you so much right now,” you mutter, collapsing into the nearest armchair.

Kieran flops beside you and steals the remote. “We should lie low. Maybe bake him something.”

“Cookies fix everything,” Luke nods solemnly.

You glare at them both. “If I die, I’m haunting you in shifts.”

—•

It takes you two hours to gather the courage.

Two hours of Luke stress-eating cereal straight from the box while Kieran googled “how to tell if your boyfriend is planning your murder.”

Two hours of internal debates and spiraling scenarios, most of which ended with your disappearance and Sylus calmly denying any knowledge of your existence.

So now you’re standing in front of his office door like you’ve come to face a firing squad.

You raise your hand, hesitate, lower it again.

Then knock. Once. Softly.

“Come in,” comes his voice, smooth as always.

You open the door slowly. He’s seated behind his desk, glasses on, sleeves rolled up, looking for all the world like a man deep in some technical report.

But you know better.

His eyes flick up to you—and stay there.

“I brought tea,” you say weakly, holding up the mug like a peace offering. Or a shield. “And… a cookie. But Luke sat on it.”

He doesn’t move. Just watches you, unreadable.

You inch forward, placing the mug on the corner of his desk. “Look, I didn’t know about the dye. I mean I did, but I didn’t think he’d actually—okay, no, that’s a lie. I thought it would be funny.”

Silence.

“I was wrong.”

Still nothing.

You shift awkwardly, gaze dropping to the floor. “I’m sorry.”

Finally, he sets his pen down and leans back slightly, eyes still fixed on you.

Then, just when the tension starts to crack your spine.

A small smile.

A smile.

Sharp. Amused.

Dangerous.

“It’s okay,” he says.

You blink. “It… is?”

He nods. “Of course.”

Too easy. Way too easy.

You narrow your eyes. “You’re not mad?”

“Not at all.”

“Really?”

“Mm.”

You inch back a step. “Why does that sound like a trap?”

His smile widens—just a fraction. “I said it’s okay. That’s all.”

You stare at him. He stares right back, like he can hear every thought racing through your brain. Like he’s already playing the long game and you just stepped into it without even knowing.

“Right,” you mutter. “Okay. Cool. Um. I’ll go now.”

You turn on your heel and walk—more like run—out of the room.

The moment the door shuts behind you, you press your back against it, eyes wide.

“He’s going to destroy me.”

And from behind the door, faint and unmistakably amused, comes the sound of Sylus quietly sipping his tea.

You return to the living quarters with the kind of haunted expression usually reserved for horror movie survivors.

Luke looks up from the couch, one leg slung over the backrest like a human pretzel.

Kieran’s on the floor with a blanket cape, eating cereal with a fork.

“Are we dead?” Kieran asks between mouthfuls.

“Not yet,” you mutter.

Luke raises an eyebrow. “That bad?”

“He smiled at me.”

Both twins flinch.

“Was it… the smile?” Luke asks, lowering his voice.

“The ‘I know exactly where your corpse would never be found’ smile?” Kieran whispers.

You throw yourself onto the couch and groan into a pillow. “No. It was worse. It was the ‘It’s okay’ smile.”

Luke gasps dramatically. “No. He went full passive-aggressive Zen reaper?”

“He said it like it was fine. Like I’m fine. Like life is fine. Nothing is fine.”

Kieran crawls up beside you. “That’s psychological warfare. He’s gonna lull you into a false sense of security. Then, boom—next week your toothbrush explodes.”

“I wouldn’t even be mad,” you say into the pillow. “I’d respect the commitment.”

Luke drops beside you, flinging a cushion over your back like a blanket. “You know what this means, right?”

“That I need to sleep with one eye open?”

“No,” he says solemnly. “It means we go deeper.”

You lift your head slowly. “What?”

“He’s playing mind games. So we play worse mind games.”

“I’m sorry, did you hit your head on the stupid stick this morning?”

Kieran grins. “He’s got fear. But we have unpredictable chaos. Sylus doesn’t know how to handle us when we’re not even handling ourselves.”

“Oh, he knows. He just hasn’t decided which part of the house he’ll burn down first.”

Luke leans in. “Okay, hear me out. What if… next prank, we frame someone else?”

“Kieran,” you snap, “Luke is spiraling again.”

Kieran slurps his cereal louder. “Let him spiral. I want to see where it goes.”

You sit up, rubbing your temples. “You two are the reason I’m probably going to end up in some Sylus-designed containment cube labeled ‘Idiot No. 3.’”

Luke perks up. “That means he already made one for you.”

You chuck a pillow at his face. “I hate you.”

Kieran laughs so hard he chokes on his cereal.

And somewhere in the walls—behind silent security panels—you know Sylus is watching.

Letting you run your mouths.

Letting you think you’re safe.

Which is so much worse.

—•

Dinner is suspiciously… normal.

Too normal.

The lighting is warm. The dining room pristine.

The food? Already served and plated like a five-star meal—elegant, balanced, perfectly portioned.

Which is already unsettling, because Sylus doesn’t cook. He commands kitchens into order.

But tonight, he did everything himself.

You sit stiffly at the table, trying not to choke on the silence.

Kieran sits across from you, eyes darting from his fork to Sylus like he’s waiting for the plate to detonate. Luke hasn’t even touched his food.

Which says a lot, because Luke once ate nachos that had been on fire.

Sylus, meanwhile, is the picture of grace.

Calm, composed, every movement deliberate as he cuts into his food with a quiet snick of silverware.

“How’s the meal?” he asks lightly.

You all jump a little.

“It’s great!” Kieran blurts. “So great. Best thing I’ve ever had. Better than oxygen.”

You nudge your plate with the fork. “Um. What exactly is this?”

Sylus smiles—just enough to show it’s a trap. “Roasted pepper-glazed poultry with herb foam.”

“…Foam?” Luke whispers. “Like… bubbles?”

Sylus turns to him. “Yes. But gourmet.”

Luke nods solemnly. “Tastes expensive.”

You take a careful bite. It tastes incredible, which only makes things worse.

Sylus never does anything without intent. You feel like each bite is a move in a game you didn’t know you were playing.

“Is that saffron?” Kieran asks.

Sylus doesn’t look up. “Would I use saffron so early in the week?”

Kieran panics. “No! Obviously not. What a stupid question. Forget I said it. I never even heard of saffron.”

You sip your water. Pause. Sip again.

“Why does the water taste like mint?”

Luke sniffs his glass. “Mine tastes like fear.”

Sylus hums. “I thought I’d try infusing it. Cleansing properties. Refreshing.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re being nice.”

He looks at you. “Am I not allowed to be?”

“Not like this. You’re being suspiciously serene.”

Luke whispers to Kieran, “He’s baking the tension. Like a soufflé of dread.”

Kieran whispers back, “I’m scared to chew too loudly.”

Sylus finishes his plate, sets his utensils down with the softest clink, and dabs his mouth with a napkin. “Don’t worry. I’m not angry.”

You all freeze.

“I already told you,” he says, folding his hands neatly, “It’s okay.”

You grip the edge of the table.

“No, see, when you say that, it sounds okay, but it feels like I’m about to get smothered in my sleep with a silk pillow.”

Sylus smiles, serene as a saint. “You wound me.”

“Oh my god,” Kieran mutters. “He wants us to feel safe.”

“That’s when he’ll strike,” Luke hisses.

Sylus stands, slow and elegant. “I’ve had a long day. You three can clean up.”

And with that, he walks off—leisurely, utterly calm—leaving behind his perfectly empty plate and three very nervous idiots still staring at their forks like they might be poisoned.

“I think he put lavender in the bread,” Luke says hollowly.

“That’s a threat,” Kieran nods.

You don’t speak. You just slowly lower your fork onto your plate and say, voice soft with realisation.

“We’re already losing.”

—•

It starts the next morning.

Small things.

You wake up and stumble bleary-eyed into the bathroom, only to find your toothbrush… gone. In its place is a child’s pink glittery toothbrush with a tiny bow on the handle and a smug little unicorn printed across it.

You stare at it.

It stares back.

“…Sylus.”

You brush anyway. Because fear is temporary, but oral hygiene is forever.

Down the hall, you hear a scream. Luke.

You race to his room, bursting in just in time to see him holding up a shirt—his favorite shirt—now three sizes too small and bright neon orange.

“He sabotaged the laundry!” Luke wails. “It looks like a highlighter threw up on it!”

Kieran stumbles in a moment later, face pale. “Okay. You know the coffee machine?”

You all pause.

“…What about it?” you ask warily.

“I pressed ‘brew’ and it played classical music. Loudly. Very loudly. And then dispensed chamomile tea.”

Luke gasps. “Decaf?”

Kieran nods. “Herbal.”

You all stand there in silence, the full horror of that registering.

“Okay,” you say slowly, “He’s escalating. This is psychological warfare disguised as hospitality.”

Luke grabs your shoulders. “We have to go off-grid.”

You shake him off. “We live in his grid. He built the grid.”

Kieran paces. “Okay. Okay. So he’s playing the long game. Fine. We stay strong. We don’t break.”

You return to your room to get dressed, trying to reclaim some sense of normalcy.

Your closet is empty.

No. Not empty.

Reorganized.

Everything is sorted by color, occasion, emotional state, and the lunar cycle.

There are even handwritten labels.

LUNAR-ALIGNED NIGHTWEAR.

MILDLY ANNOYED LOUNGE SETS.

IF YOU MUST INTERACT WITH PEOPLE.

You stare.

It’s… kind of impressive.

Still terrifying.

Later that day, your comm device pings with a message.

Hope the toothbrush is to your liking. Unicorns are symbols of purity. Thought it was fitting. —S.

You don’t respond. You can’t.

You sit there in silence, chewing your unsatisfying herbal tea and wondering how one man could be so elegant and so unhinged at the same time.

Back in the kitchen, Luke is attempting to pick the lock on the pantry door—now password protected and voice activated.

Kieran sits on the floor, whispering sweetly to the coffee machine in the hopes it will forgive him.

And all the while, somewhere deep in his office, Sylus watches the surveillance feed with a slight, satisfied smile.

Checkmate? Not yet.

But the pieces were moving.

And he was always ten steps ahead.

—•

It’s late.

Too late for anyone else to be awake. The halls are quiet, dimly lit, the kind of silence that feels intentional.

You creep into the kitchen, determined to retrieve your emergency stash of chocolate hidden behind the vitamin supplements Sylus refuses to acknowledge.

You’ve earned this.

After a day of psychological warfare and sentient appliances, you deserve sugar and solitude.

But the moment you open the cabinet, you hear it.

“Looking for something?”

You jump, nearly drop the jar, and spin around.

Sylus leans casually against the doorframe. Half in shadow. White shirt slightly unbuttoned. Sleeves rolled. Watching you like you’re the most amusing thing he’s seen all day.

You swallow. “Just… needed a snack.”

He hums, low and thoughtful, stepping into the room. “You always get hungry when you’re anxious.”

“I’m not anxious.”

“Of course you’re not.”

He steps closer. Not fast. Not threatening.

Just… there.

Slowly closing the distance until he’s in your space. His eyes flick down to the jar in your hands, then back to you.

“You’ve been quiet today,” he murmurs.

You shrug, heart in your throat. “You’ve been… rearranging my life like an episode of The Big Bang Theory.”

He smiles. Slow. Dangerous.

“You should be grateful. I improved your morning routine, your closet, and your toothpaste. Not many people get this level of attention from me.”

“You replaced my shampoo with glitter gel.”

“I thought you liked shimmer.”

You glare. “Okay, what is this? Revenge lite? Psychological torment with a smile?”

He tilts his head, eyes glittering with that infuriating calm. “Do you think I’d waste my time with petty revenge?”

You hesitate. “…Yes?”

He chuckles. “Fair.”

He leans in just slightly—close enough that you can feel the warmth of him, the way his gaze flickers to your lips and back with deliberate slowness.

“But here’s the thing,” he says softly. “I’m not doing this because I’m angry.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what is this?”

His voice drops lower, velvet and ice. “This is a warning.”

You blink. “A warning?”

He raises a brow. “You see, I’m not interested in getting even. I’m not even interested in winning.”

He leans in fully now, mouth near your ear, voice like silk dragged over steel.

“I’m interested in reminding you… that you don’t play games with someone who invented the board.”

Your breath catches.

Then he steps back. Casual.

Smiling.

Completely composed, like he didn’t just dismantle your spine with a whisper.

“Goodnight,” he says smoothly, already turning to leave.

“Sylus—”

He glances over his shoulder, eyes cool, mouth curved in that infuriatingly perfect smirk.

“Sleep well, sweetie. I’ll see you in the morning.”

And then he’s gone, leaving you in the kitchen, heart pounding, chocolate jar forgotten in your hands.

You stare at the door, then mutter to yourself:

“Okay. Yep. We’re all going to die.”

—•

You don’t sleep.

Not really.

Not after that.

You toss. Turn.

Stare at the ceiling.

Replay his words on a loop in your mind.

You don’t play games with someone who invented the board.

You shouldn’t be thinking about the way he said it. Or the way he’d leaned in—close enough to smell your shampoo, the glitter one, traitorous and lemon-sweet.

Or how his voice had dipped low like he wanted to taste the words.

But you are.

And it’s driving you insane.

You last until just before sunrise.

Then you march down the hall in bare feet and defiance, fully intending to demand an end to this madness.

Maybe yell. Maybe shake him.

Definitely not… whatever this fluttering in your chest is.

You stop outside his office.

The door is open.

He’s seated at the far end, back to you, reading something on a tablet. He doesn’t look up when you enter, but he says, “You’re up early.”

Your jaw tightens. “You planned that.”

“I plan everything.”

You walk in, arms crossed. “The glitter. The water. The closet. The toothbrush. You knew it would get in my head.”

He finally turns in his chair, tablet abandoned. “And yet… you came to me.”

You stare at him.

He stares back.

It’s silent.

That heavy, brittle kind of silence where something has to break.

“You’re impossible,” you say quietly.

He tilts his head. “You’re the one who dyed my face red.”

You blink. “That wasn’t me! That was Luke!”

“But you knew.” He stands now, slow and deliberate, each step toward you heavier than the last. “And you laughed.”

“That was after the shock wore off.”

He stops in front of you, so close your breath hitches.

“You like testing me,” he says, almost gently.

Your voice is soft. “You like watching me squirm.”

His lips curve. “Only when you’re cornered.”

Your heart kicks up. “You don’t scare me.”

“No?” he murmurs, leaning in. “Then why do you look like you’re about to run?”

“I’m not—”

He reaches out—slow, precise—and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, fingertips brushing your skin like a dare.

You forget how to breathe.

“You know what the real game is?” he says, voice low enough to curl around your spine. “It’s not about revenge. Not anymore.”

You stare at him, pulse racing.

“It’s about seeing how long we can keep pretending this tension is just about pranks.”

Your lips part, but no sound comes out.

He leans in closer, mouth inches from yours. “So go ahead,” he whispers. “Run. Or…”

His breath brushes your skin.

“…stop pretending.”

And in that moment, the air between you threatens to collapse entirely.

Your heart is hammering.

You can hear it—feel it—each thud echoing through your ribs like a countdown.

But nothing moves. Not him. Not you.

Just that impossible closeness and the weight of everything left unsaid pressing in like gravity.

Sylus doesn’t touch you again.

He doesn’t need to.

He’s right there, his presence overwhelming in its stillness, in the way his eyes never leave yours. Not even to blink.

Not even for air. It’s like he’s daring you to look away first.

But you don’t.

You can’t.

The tension is a live wire between you, buzzing, pulsing, dangerously taut.

You could lean in.

He could close the distance. Just one breath more.

One slip.

One break in control.

And everything would unravel.

But neither of you moves.

Because this isn’t about the kiss.

It’s about the pause before it.

The ache of proximity. The heat of restraint.

The mutual, wordless recognition that something’s changed, tilted—irrevocably—but no one wants to name it yet.

His voice, when it comes, is almost a whisper. “Still not scared?”

You swallow, your voice quieter still. “Should I be?”

He leans in just enough for your foreheads to almost touch. “Terrified.”

And there it is again—that exquisite push and pull. That dangerous promise wrapped in affection, mischief, and a power you’ll never quite untangle.

You feel the breath leave your lungs. “Then why haven’t you done anything?”

Sylus doesn’t smile this time. Not quite.

Instead, his gaze drops—briefly—to your lips, then lingers there.

“Because I like this,” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“This moment,” he murmurs, voice velvet-dark. “Where you’re still trying to pretend you have the upper hand.”

Your pulse stutters.

“And when I finally take it from you,” he continues, “you’ll know it wasn’t by force.”

His eyes lift back to yours—slowly, intently.

“It’ll be because you gave it.”

Your breath hitches.

And still, he doesn’t move.

Not forward. Not back. Just there.

Waiting.

Like he can stay in this moment forever, balanced at the edge of something dangerous and devastating.

Just to watch you fall first.

He’s still watching you.

Still waiting.

Like he’s reading your every thought, every twitch of hesitation, every part of you that wants to lean in and the part that still clings to the illusion of control.

You don’t speak.

You just look at him.

And that’s all it takes.

Because Sylus moves with the precision of someone who’s already planned this moment ten steps ahead.

One hand rises—fingers brushing your jaw, your cheek, slow as silk.

The other curls gently around your waist, pulling you forward, not forcefully, but with the promise of no escape.

You barely get the chance to gasp before his mouth captures yours.

It’s not a gentle kiss.

It’s deliberate. Consuming.

Like he’s reminding you exactly who you’ve been playing games with.

There’s heat, yes, but more than that—there’s command.

The way his lips move against yours, the way his hand tilts your chin just so, the way your breath disappears entirely beneath his—all of it says, you’ve lost.

And god, you let him.

Your hands curl into his shirt, trying to hold on—anchor yourself.

But he deepens the kiss and everything tilts with it.

The pressure of his body, the taste of him, the sound you make without meaning to—it all blends together in something dangerous.

And then, you feel it.

A faint, thrumming pulse in the air.

A crackle of invisible tension winding around your wrists.

You pull back just barely, lips parted, dizzy. “What—”

Too late.

Energy winds up your arms like silken thread—cool, weightless, until it suddenly binds.

A shimmer of red-black tendrils coils around your wrists, tugging them behind your back, smooth as liquid steel.

Your breath catches. “Sylus—?”

He doesn’t answer right away.

He rests his forehead against yours, breathing steady, unbothered. “You like playing with fire,” he murmurs, voice low and calm. “But you forget—I am the fire.”

With a flick of his fingers, the energy coils tighten. Your arms are pulled behind you, secured to the low railing of the console desk behind you—elegant, efficient, inescapable.

Then, as if that weren’t enough—he slides a metal cuff into place around your right wrist.

You freeze the second it locks.

You know that cuff.

Dull black, sleek. Lined with tech that silences Evol abilities like a mute button pressed against your skin.

It hums to life with a faint click.

And suddenly, you’re still.

Held.

Caged.

Disarmed.

Your eyes widen. “That’s—”

“—the containment cuff from Tartarus, yes,” he finishes, calmly brushing your hair from your face. “You didn’t think I’d forget to prepare for retaliation, did you?”

You stare at him. “You kissed me just to—?”

He tilts your chin up again, eyes sharp, amused, infuriatingly tender.

“I kissed you because I wanted to,” he says. “Cuffing you was just… a bonus.”

Your mouth opens in protest, but he leans in again, this time slower, deliberate, brushing his lips over yours like a threat.

“Now,” he whispers, “let’s see how long you can behave… without your tricks.”

Then he steps back, leaving you bound to the desk, breathless and flushed, completely and utterly at his mercy.

And he smiles.

Not the cold, amused smile from before.

Something darker. Possessive. Knowing.

“You started this,” he says, voice velvet. “Now you get to see how I finish it.”

You tug against the energy binding your wrists. It doesn’t budge.

The cuff hums faintly at your pulse point, Evol completely silenced.

He stands before you, not gloating—no, that would be too easy.

Too human. He just watches.

Calm. Composed.

Like a man who could undo you in a thousand ways and hasn’t even begun.

“Comfortable?” he asks, voice like poured velvet.

You narrow your eyes. “This is so far beyond revenge.”

“Is it?” he muses, brushing a thumb under your chin. “You did challenge me. Repeatedly. In public. With unicorns.”

You glare. “You’re enjoying this.”

He leans in, mouth grazing the shell of your ear. “Immensely.”

And then—crash.

Followed by a shout.

And another crash.

You both freeze.

Sylus exhales, long-suffering, and turns his head just as the door to the control room swings wide open.

Luke bursts in, holding a smoking toaster. “Okay! Who set the oven to incinerate? I was making waffles—”

He stops.

Stares.

Kieran skids in behind him, carrying a fire extinguisher. “We may or may not have caused a minor electrical—”

Also stops.

Stares.

The three of you hold in silence.

You, flushed, cuffed, and restrained against the desk.

Sylus, standing in front of you with the casual elegance of a villain who’s definitely in charge.

Luke, blinking rapidly.

Kieran, slowly lowering the extinguisher.

“Oh my god,” Luke whispers. “Did we walk in on a—”

“It’s not what it looks like,” you bark.

Kieran’s already backing out. “It’s exactly what it looks like.”

Sylus doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. He just looks over his shoulder at them and says, calm as ever.

“Leave. Before I make it permanent.”

Luke raises both hands, stepping back. “Okay! Yep. Carry on. Nothing to see. Just… us. Not here.”

Kieran salutes. “We were never here.”

They vanish.

The door slams.

You exhale through your nose. “I hate them.”

“You encouraged them,” Sylus replies.

“I was peer pressured!”

He hums, reaching for your jaw again, thumb brushing your lower lip. “You always have an excuse.”

“I wasn’t the one who turned revenge into a bondage scene—”

He cuts you off with a low chuckle. “Are you uncomfortable?”

You open your mouth.

Then close it.

Then hiss, “…Yes. In the worst way.”

“Good,” he murmurs, brushing his lips barely—barely—against yours. “Sit in that discomfort. Feel it.”

He steps back again, and your body instinctively leans forward—straining just slightly against the binds.

His smile turns wicked. “That’s one.”

You blink. “One what?”

“One slip.”

You frown. “What is this, a score counter—?”

“Two.”

You shut your mouth. Scowl.

He watches you with open amusement now. “You’re very expressive when you’re trying not to be.”

“Sylus.”

He leans down, gaze inches from yours, voice soft.

“Be good, and I’ll let you go.”

You don’t respond.

His eyes glitter. “Or don’t. I’m patient.”

And he turns to leave. Leaves you there—bound, breathless, and burning.

“Oh my god!” you shout after him. “You’re the worst!”

From down the hall, Luke’s voice echoes faintly, “Is it safe to make waffles again?”

You scream, “NO!”

And Sylus’s laugh—low, dangerous, victorious—follows you like a storm rolling in.

upgrade epilogue

pro hero! midoriya izuku x fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — fluff, 1.2k words, hope you like the ring

pt.1, pt.2, pt.3

You and Izuku were sitting on the couch in your cosy apartment. It’s been almost nine months since the quirk breeding rescue incident, and Izuku’s recovery has been swift. He’s taking time off from being a pro hero whilst adjusting to his cybernetic arm. That was part of it. Another part was that he wanted to spend some time training One For All. And the final part was that he wanted to spend some quality time with you. Which was hard because you were still working full-time as a biomed engineer.

His cybernetic arm was currently resting on your lap. The compartment beneath his inner wrist was popped open, and you were adjusting the screws with a screw driver, magnifying goggles on giving you big, adorable [e/c] eyes. He could feel his heart racing from how cute and talented his girlfriend was. He watched quietly, other hand resting on your knees that were curled up beneath you. He caressed the soft flesh with the rough pad of his thumb.

You hummed the beat of that song that had been stuck in your head for days as you worked away. Bobbing your head unconsciously and sucking in your cheeks (making ozempy face) when the screw wouldn’t screw or nut refused to nut (you are most welcome for that btw). You were so focused that you didn’t notice Izuku beginning to blush.

The truth is, he’s been waiting for this moment for months. Not this specific moment. I mean, you’ve done maintenance checks on his arm many times since it was attached. No. The moment I’m talking about is the moment he intended to propose you. Which was this moment, right now.

He just couldn’t wait any longer. Man had to wife you up this instant.

He took his right hand off of your knee, rubbing the back of his neck with it as he sighed quietly. You were furrowing your brows, completely oblivious, at a particularly difficult screw to unscrew. Izuku was tempted to smooth the lines with his thumb, but stopped short, hand ghosting your brows. What was he doing? Overthinking every little thing?

He cleared his throat reflexively. The silence draws on. Comfortable for one person and rather tense for the other. Once you’re finished screwing the compartment back, his cybernetic arm roaring and ready to go, you sit back and sigh happily. You use one hand to drag the heavy goggles off of your face, which unfortunately (and expectantly) leaves your [h/c] locks sticking up in a few places. Izuku laughs nervously, running his fingers through your hair much to your delight. You smile up at him lazily. Once he stops, you get up off of the sofa, grabbing your tools from the cushions and low coffee table.

His eyes dip to your cleavage mindlessly as you lean over to grab one of the smaller screw drivers that’s gotten squished into the cushion creases next to his thigh. He looks up and away, blushing, once realising what he’s done (which you have absolutely no idea of or problem with). He clears his throat again, hand scratching an existent-non-existent itch on his cybernetic arm.

Once you leave the lounge room to put your tools away in your bag, Izuku lets out a frustrated sigh he’s been holding in. He stands up, shaking his hands nervously and watching your figure with anxiety as you re-enter the room. You’re still oblivious to his nerves, too caught up in thinking about what you were going to make for dinner that night. You two had ran out of white radish, a staple in your household, so you were thinking of what other veg you were going to have. Probably steamed broccoli or—

“Honey.” You look at Izuku, like, really look at him, and notice how on edge he seems. Shifting from one foot to the other, left hand on the back of his neck, looking at you then away from you and then back at you.

You step towards him, taking his right hand in yours, interlacing your hands so your palms press together. “What’s up? You seem tense.” Your soft lips stretch into an even softer smile as you try to ease his nerves. He just shakes his head, looking down momentarily before meeting your gaze once more.

What he does next leaves your eyes popping out of your skull and mouth half open in shock. He gets down on one knee and cups both of your hands with his much larger ones. You just stare at him, blinking slowly, trying to process what’s going on — if this is going on — when he starts, “Honey, I love you. I love you more than you’ll ever know. You’ve been there for me during the hardest times. You’ve supported me and given me hope even when I felt hopeless.”

He takes a deep breath in, resolve clear in his eyes. He takes out a navy velvet ring box from the pocket of his sweatpants. You watch intently as he opens it, placing the box in your hand. Oh my gosh, is he about to-to…?

“[Y/n]-chan, I love you and I want to be your husband. Will you…” He licks his lips, feeling their sudden dryness. Your eyes follow the movement. He lets out another breath, “Will you marry me?”

You don’t say anything for a few seconds as you try to process if this is actually real and not a dream. “M-marry you?” You stutter. You see his resolve shatter a little as he nods, biting his lip. You breathe out, a smile forming on your face. “Of course, I’ll marry you Izu-chan!”

Grinning wide like you are, he pulls the engagement ring from the box and slips it onto your ring finger. It fits perfectly. You admire the ring. It’s stunning! Dainty silver band with a shining rectangle cut emerald. You’re actually obsessed with his choice as it really suits you and you love how the emerald is green like his features.

He wraps your smaller frame in a tight embrace. You start crying from the sheer joy of this moment. You’re so happy right now. Nothing can describe how good this feels. He rubs your back in circles, gently soothing you.

You two stay like that, whispering “I love you’s” to each other as you both process this emotional high. After a few minutes, you start giggling and pull back, cupping his cheeks with your hands. You take the side of your lower lip in-between your teeth, still grinning. It releases, the flesh bouncing back perfectly supple. “I love you so much, Izu-chan.” You pull his face closer to yours, bringing your forehead to his. He hums, “I love you, honey. Forever.”

You don’t think you can handle anymore of the teeth-rotting sweet things he’ll say to you for the rest of the night, so you press your lips to his. He eagerly responds, head angling with yours and hands moving so his right grips your upper back and left your waist. You smile into this kiss, unable to stop, knowing that you’ll be Mrs Midoriya soon. And that your pookie bear will be your pookie and only your pookie for as long as possible.

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ⟶ 19, infj, she/her

#★’s works for all of my works, #★’s recs for my recommendations, + #★’s thoughts for my unhinged thoughts about fic

𝐛𝐧𝐡𝐚 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 rules ao3 ⟶ has my longer fics + fics i don't think tumblrs would like

currently working on: like drabbles ig but i need some ideas so if you have any send them my way

⭑.ᐟ looks best in light mode

do not plagiarise, copy, repost, or translate my works!

will there be a part two to ur recent smau? specifically bakugos cauz..................what was that ending indicating 😭😭

tbh that ending was unplanned. i was just fucking around and hoping for the best.

idk i'd make a pt 2, like where i would go with it. maybe the boys and their gf break up and reader wants to slide in😳 hold up nonnie i think i'm cooking.

their omega

જ⁀➴ chapter five: WHO TOLD THE COMMISSION?!?!?!!

alpha! bakugou, kirishima, denki, sero x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — angst, tsukauchi appearance, hanta's in pre-rut, smau + fic, 2.7k words

m.list

a/n: 'household🏡' gc from your pov + '🌽⭐️s' gc from denki's pov

fic underneath smau

You set the tea on the kotatsu and sit opposite Tsukauchi. You notice the lines etched into his skin, that tired smile. You pour his tea and then your own. You both sit in silence for a few minutes, sipping your warm beverage and avoiding each other’s gaze. You see him looking around the house, though you’re uncertain what for.

At last, he clears his throat and says, “So, tell me, how did you happen to meet four of Japan’s most prestigious pro heroes, Miss…?”

“L/n,” you fill in for him. “Y/n L/n.” He nods and pulls out a notepad from his chest pocket. With a click of his pen, he scribbles down your name.

You chuckle nervously as you say, “Is this formal questioning or?”

“Yes,” he says sternly. He looks up from his pad at you expectantly.

You take a deep breath in and say, “I’d like to wait until someone gets home before answering your questions if that’s okay.” He nods and leans back, taking another sip of his tea. You continue, “They shouldn’t be too long.”

For the next ten minutes, you try to make light conversation with the detective, but nothing seems to stick. You don’t watch the news or care for the latest hero updates, he doesn’t know much about the books you're reading. Luckily, the rattling of keys and clicking of the door saves you from bringing up the weather.

You ask him to wait as you leave the warmth of the shitagake and head to the entrance hall. You watch Denki fumble with his boots and trip up the platform.

“Are you okay?” You say as you come close to him. He nods frantically and gives you a quick hug.

“Sorry about all of this,” he mumbles into your ear before pulling away. You reassure him that it’s okay and lead him to the living room.

Upon entering, Denki bows to Tsukauchi who is now standing. The two men shake hands before sitting around the low table. You duck off to get Denki a teacup, leaving them alone.

Denki stutters, “S-so, what are you doing here, Tsukauchi-kun?” The dark-haired man looks at the blond with an unrelenting eye.

He clicks his pen and says, “I was hoping you’d be around. I’m here to investigate your involvement with the Shibuya underground omega auctions.”

The blond chuckles nervously. He looks up at you as you place a cup down in front of him and start to pour him tea. He thanks you before returning his gaze to Tsukauchi.

“Um,” he starts. “Yea, I was investigating the Shibuya omega auctions for work, you know?” Tsukauchi nods as he writes that down. You place the teapot down and take a sip of your tea. It’s gone cold now.

You contemplate brewing more tea, but you can see the tension in Denki’s shoulders. Maybe you should stay, you think. You place a reassuring hand on his knee beneath the table. He gazes back at you with wide eyes. You give him a small nod and see the slightest relaxation of his posture.

The detective interrupts your moment by saying, “I’m afraid I don’t know. What kind of investigative work were you doing, Chargebolt?”

Denki rubs the back of his neck as he says, “Just the usual, you know? Reconnaissance.” Tsukauchi nods.

“No engagement from you?” He questions, pen tip paused.

Your alpha shakes his head. “No. Monoma, uh, Phantom Thief and I were undercover. Just observing.” You watch as Tsukauchi scribbles and then takes a sip of his tea.

You’re about to apologise for it being too cold when he says, “And so is that how you met Miss L/n here.” He points to you with the end of his pen. Denki chuckles shortly as he leans over and wraps an arm around you. He draws you into his side protectively. You whine a little at his sudden affection and look up at him with big eyes. He gazes at you briefly before sighing.

He says, “Unfortunately, yes. There’s no use in denying it.” Your alpha squeezes your shoulder before continuing, “I met Miss L/n when I first started investigating the auctions.” Denki looks down at you with pleading “play along eyes”.

You nod and say, “Yes.” You place a hand on the blond’s chest and pout as you continue, “I was kidnapped only a few days after landing in Japan by omega sellers. My time with them was… regrettable.” You look down as those memories flood back to you.

With a sharp inhale, you say, “I met Chargebolt when I was being prepared for auction.”

Denki hums in response and says, “You have to understand, the little bee was so frightened and afraid. She had nowhere to go. And when the opportunity came up, I decided to take her in. Who knows what those other alphas would have done with her, you know? She’s safe here.” You’ve shifted even closer to Denki as he spoke. Now, your head is resting on the side of his chest, nestled beneath his arm. You sniffle as you build on what the blond has said.

“Yes. Yes, I am. The thought of being bought by someone else I—.” Partially fake-partially real tears well in your eyes as you raise your hand to your face. “S-sorry,” you mumble. Denki wraps you in a warm hug, rubbing your back and muttering into your hair that it’s going to be okay.

After a couple of minutes, you gently nudge Denki’s chest with your hands. He moves back, giving you some space to breathe. He thumbs your tears away and tenderly kisses you on the forehead. The gesture makes you smile a downturned, sad smile.

You take a shaky breath in and continue, “Denki an-and all the guys have-have been s-so supportive of-of me. A-and I’m-I’m proud to be t-their omega.” You tear up at the end, burying your face back into your alpha’s chest. If you could only see the expression on his face… He’s smiling so warmly, sincerely hearing your words. He hopes that you aren’t lying about that last part. And you aren’t. And you intend to tell him that later.

“I see,” Tsukauchi says quietly. You can hear the scratching of his pen tip on paper permeating the spaces between your tears and sniffles.

Denki kisses your hair and then says, “If it’s okay, Tsukauchi-kun, I’m just gonna take Miss L/n out to get some fresh air.”

The detective shakes his head and drawls, “No that’s fine. This interrogation is over. I hope your future reconnaissance proves successful. I don’t expect any further direct intervention from you though.” He gives Denki a pointed look to which the blond nods.

He laughs nervously and says, “Of course not. I’ll see you out.” He mutters to you something about being right back and you nod, choking on a sob. He quickly kisses your cheek and gets up with Tsukauchi. You watch their figures become smaller as they near the entrance hall. You take some deep breaths, calming yourself down from your emotional performance.

You wish you could say that was all a lie… But it wasn’t. You really do enjoy being the boys’ omega now and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Sniffling, you place the tea cups back on the tray and take them to the kitchen. You place them in the sink and rinse them, leaving the kitchenware to the side for washing tonight.

You’ve just finished blowing your nose when Denki waltzes into the kitchen, a shit-eating grin plastered across his handsome face.

“That was great!” He exclaims as he walks over to you. He lifts you and twirls you around in his arms, making you giggle and shriek. Denki puts you back down but keeps his hands on your waist.

He continues, “Seriously, I didn’t know you were such a good actor, babe.” You playfully slap his chest as you laugh. He draws you back into his warm embrace and nuzzles your ear with his nose. His head dips into the crook of your neck, getting a good whiff of your sweet scent. You do the same. His tangy scent makes you purr. Without thinking, you begin to rub your scent glands against his, scenting him. The action draws a purr out of his chest, soothing you.

He whispers into your ear, “You are proud to be ours though, right?” Your purring becomes louder with his words.

You say into his skin, “I didn’t lie, Denki. I’m happy and proud to be with you all.” He hums and kisses the shell of your ear.

You two hold each other for a little, just enjoying the other’s arms and presence. You spend the rest of the afternoon making lunch together — don’t think for a second that this grown man can cook, you are 100% doing all of the work — and cuddling on the couch. You even go on a neighbourhood walk together, holding hands and talking about whatever comes to your mind.

That night, Denki brags like there’s no tomorrow about his refined lying skills and your epic crying. His “eat shit” enthusiasm makes you laugh. You’re giggling to yourself as you fry mushrooms, turning them every so often. Their fragrance is like curling tendrils wrapping around the beams and benches of the kitchen.

At last, dinner is served. You are proud of yourself as you set the meal down on the table. This is the first time you’ve cooked for the boys since arriving.

You take off your apron and come back over to the table, finding your plate and bowl already full of food. The sight makes you chuckle softly. Hanta tugs you down beside him by the wrist. He’s been awfully on edge these past few days, and his scent has become even more intense, letting you know his rut will be soon. Admittedly, you’re nervous for when it hits.

You eat mindlessly, not paying attention to what you’re putting in your mouth as you think over what it might be like when it finally happens. He’s been incredibly restrained and respectful during his pre-rut, and you’re hoping that behaviour will continue. The boys notice your daze. Under the table, Hanta squeezes your thigh (not your knee pookie, not your knee). He groans at the soft flesh so tender and pliable beneath his grasp. His sudden touch makes you jump, catching everyone’s attention.

He clears his throat and says with a strangled voice, “You right?” He points at your meal with his chopsticks. “That’s the third time you’ve dropped the same piece of tofu.” You shake your head, still very much aware of how Hanta’s hand hasn’t moved an inch. Your eyes are wide as you flick your gaze up and down, signalling to the cause of your surprise.

You say, “I’m fine. Just thinking.” You bob your leg once, hoping that he catches your meaning. But he seems completely oblivious to what’s set you on edge.

Sighing, you lean over and whisper into his ear, “Your hand.” He grunts and turns his head, your cheeks brushing.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he removes his hand from your thigh. You pull back, your eyes are on him for a few moments before you return to eating your meal. The peace doesn’t last long, though. You can feel the vibrations of Hanta bouncing his leg up and down next to you. It begins to irritate you because he’s so close to you. Closer than you he was when you first sat down.

“Hanta,” you say. He looks up at you mid-slurp of his miso soup. You continue, “Can you stop moving your leg? It’s annoying.” He hums in response and stops bouncing his leg.

“Sorry,” he says again, quietly. You shake your head.

“It’s fine,” you reassure him.

After dinner, Hanta helps you clean up the table. He washes the dishes while you dry them. You can make out his taut muscles beneath his loose-fitting shirt. The way these flex, the veins in his clenched jaw. Maybe you should have asked Eijiro to help you out instead.

“Sorry,” you say suddenly. He drops the plate he’s washing in the sink, making you flinch. He glances at you, his brow creased.

“For what?” He almost growls.

You start strong but end up mumbling, “For making you so uncomfortable.” You avoid his gaze, focusing on his gloved hands caressing the suds off of the plate. He chuckles derisively. The sound is harsh to your ears; it has you biting the side of your lip as you take the plate from him.

He grunts, “It’s not your fault.”

You shake your head, towelling the wet ceramic. “I can go if—”

You barely register as Hanta moves and traps you against the kitchen bench. His hands are planted on either side of you. Only the plate you hold against your chest separates your bodies. He leans down and rests his forehead against yours.

“The last thing I want you to do is go.” You whine as his nose brushes yours. He’s so close, you can feel his warm breath fanning across your lips. Your eyes are wide open as you stare at him, unsure of how you want things to play out. Is he going to kiss you? You think. If he does, would you be opposed to that? You don’t know.

“Hanta,” you say, pulling back from him. You shake your head at him. “I don’t want to.” He groans at your words and backs off.

“I know I know,” he mumbles. “Sorry, babe.” You laugh it off and let him know that it’s okay, that you understand.

As you walk out of the kitchen, you notice the boys lingering in the hallway. Denki admires one of the wall paintings while Eijiro squeezes an irritated Katsuki’s bicep. You raise your brow at them as you stop behind Denki.

“Were you spying on us?” You say, trying to conceal your smirk. Denki and Eijiro feign ignorance but Katsuki is as blunt as ever.

“Just making sure he doesn’t try anything funny,” he grumbles. You nod and thank them for looking out for you before skipping off to your room, a big grin on your face from their protectiveness. That’s one of the nice things about having several alphas. They’re all so protective of you. Ready to intervene the moment you feel uncomfortable. You giggle as you shut your door behind you.

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