My Cutie Pie

I think bkg’s baby gets your eyes and your temperament and he’s so relieved. He doesn’t say a word about it, ever, but when his daughter is 6 years old and some twerp takes her toys on the playground and she only cries, doesn’t try to explode his face off when he picks her up to walk her home—bakugou is so relieved it makes him nauseous. Because he wanted that anger to die with him—because with all of the light and hope and good you brought into his life, he’d hoped that it be enough to ward off that venom that he still feels the remnants of in his veins.

When his baby drops her head on his shoulder, tuckered out, he feels pretty confident that it did.

todoroki shouto and his 8-month-old son having identical pouty faces.

It becomes trouble when your husband and 8-month-old son are quiet as you’re about to finish preparing dinner. You could sense it, like a superpower you could only unlock when you reached a certain milestone in life.

“It’s just a piece of soft biscuit. Maybe we can give him only a little—“

“No, Shou.”

You had only denied your son a snack once, and yet, the betrayal in his big, watery eyes made it seem like you had committed an unforgivable crime.

Your eight-month-old son, snug in Todoroki’s arms, was pouting hard—his chubby cheeks puffed out, lips trembling, and his tiny hands curled into fists against his father’s chest. Tears clung to his thick lashes, threatening to spill at any moment. He was the very image of pitiful distress.

And Todoroki?

He wasn’t much better.

He’s holding your son with an almost identical expression—unmistakably sulking, his lips pressed together in silent protest (but he knew he could never win this war against you). It didn’t help that your son was his near-perfect replica, down to the way his tiny eyebrows furrowed in quiet displeasure. The only major difference was this little boy inherited your eyes.

Thank the heavens, because you almost came to the conclusion that Todoroki reproduced by himself via asexual reproduction.

Because it was dangerous how alike they looked.

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. “Oh, come on. It was just one snack.”

Todoroki’s grip on your son shifted slightly as he responded, voice flat but clearly displeased. “It was just a small piece.”

The baby, as if understanding that his father was taking his side, whimpered softly and nuzzled closer to his father’s chest, letting out a tiny, heart-wrenching sniffle.

“Dinner is literally a minute away. He’ll survive.”

“He might starve and lose his healthy body,” Todoroki tells you warily.

“Shou, take one good look at our son. He’s chubbier than any of his older cousins, plus, we feed him formula 5 times a day, he eats solid food twice, and even gets a snack when he wakes up from his naps—so don’t tell me he’ll starve when he eats more than we do combined.”

Your husband didn’t argue further, but his silence spoke volumes. He gently rubbed your son’s back, sighing as the little boy let out another sniffle. You knew this game—Todoroki might not be saying anything, but his entire posture screamed, “I think you’re being unfair, but I won’t push it… even though I’m clearly upset.”

“The pouting isn’t going to work on me.”

Todoroki blinked, expression unchanged. “I’m not pouting.”

“You are,” you told him. “And he’s just copying you.”

At that, he finally glanced down at the baby in his arms. Your son blinked up at him, sniffling again before sticking his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“…I think this is just his natural expression,” Todoroki finally said, deadpan.

“Uh-huh. I don’t think we’ll ever need a DNA test to prove that he’s yours.”

“Why would we need a DNA test when I’m the only man you’ve ever been with? And our son also looks like me—“

“Oh, Shou. It was a joke,” you sigh lovingly.

“Oh.”

Todoroki hummed, shifting your son slightly so he could wipe away a stray tear from the baby’s cheek. “Your mother is strict,” he murmured, speaking softly to him as if he wasn’t right in front of you. “Very heartless.”

“Excuse me?”

The baby hiccupped, seemingly agreeing.

Todoroki glanced up at you, the slightest hint of amusement evident in his eyes. “It’s true.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh. “Unbelievable. If I left meals to you, he’d be living off of cold soba and whatever random snacks you keep in the fridge.”

Todoroki didn’t deny it (for the most part).

“But I do take cooking classes now...”

“Mhm.”

He gently bounced your son in his arms, his gaze softening as your baby yawned, snuggling closer to his chest now that the dramatics had settled.

You sighed, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to the top of your son’s head. “You’ll thank me later, little pouty boy,” you murmured before glancing up at your husband. “And you—stop ganging up on me with him.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he replied, completely straight-faced.

You gave him a knowing look. “Uh-huh.”

A comfortable silence settled between you before you turned back to the stove, giving the curry one last stir. “Dinner’s ready.”

He smiled. “Finally.”

You shot him a playful glare, though there was no real heat behind it. You took your son from his arms, adjusting him on your hip before pressing a small kiss to his chubby cheek.

“Alright, come on, little pouty boy.”

Todoroki followed closely behind. “Which one?”

You laughed at that.

“Both of you.”

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

kickin my feet and shi thinkin abt husband! katsuki not leaving without his goodbye kiss from his wife, even after an argument.

you stood by the kitchen counter with your arms crossed, still fuming from the argument that had erupted the night before.

katsuki, equally stubborn, was getting ready for work, his movements a little harsher than usual as he shoved his phone into his pocket and grabbed his keys.

neither of you had really spoken since the fight. it was stupid, really—something about schedules and plans.

"gotta go."

you heard the jingle of his keys as he walked toward the door. for a moment, you thought he was just going to leave. good. let him leave. maybe a day apart would cool both of you down.

but then, he just stopped.

you didn’t turn around, but you felt his presence by the door, unmoving. you were about to glance over your shoulder when his voice broke the silence.

“where’s my kiss?”

your heart stuttered. slowly, you turned to face him. "excuse me?"

"you heard me," katsuki grumbled, his ears tinged pink. "you always give me a kiss before i leave. so... where is it?"

your lips parted in disbelief. “we just argued for the whole night and you want a kiss?"

"yeah, and? doesn’t mean you can skip it."

the audacity. the nerve. you opened your mouth to tell him off, but the stubborn, almost childlike look on his face made your resolve crack.

he was dead serious. this man could be furious with you—could spend hours brooding in stony silence—but he still needed his goodbye kiss like it was a non-negotiable part of his day.

"katsuki, i’m still pissed at you."

"and i’m still pissed at you," he shot back, brows furrowing. "but we don’t leave without a goodbye kiss. that’s our thing and i’m not leavin’ without it."

he looked genuinely annoyed—and not just because of the argument.

ever since you’d started dating, no matter how bad the fight, you never let each other leave without a kiss. this was the kind of annoyance he reserved for things that threw him off his routine.

and apparently, your daily goodbye kiss was part of that routine.

still, you stayed put, stubborn as fuck. he shifted, gripping the keys tightly in his hand like it was the only thing stopping him from marching across the room.

you saw the conflict flash in his eyes—pride battling something softer.

"just...” he finally muttered, voice low and rough. “c’mere. please.”

that single, reluctant please just broke you.

with an exasperated sigh, you stomped over to him. he watched you carefully, guarded but hopeful. you stopped just inches away, folding your arms.

“this doesn’t mean i’m not still mad,” you mumbled.

“i know,” he said softly.

you placed your hands on his chest and stood on your tiptoes, giving him a quick, chaste kiss on the lips. or at least, you tried to. as you pulled away, his hand shot out, cupping the back of your neck.

“oi,” he said, voice losing its earlier irritation. “that ain’t a real kiss.”

you glared up at him, ready to argue, but the intensity in his eyes made your heart stutter. his thumb brushed the side of your neck as his grip softened.

"even if we fight," he muttered, voice lower now, "i still love ya. and i still want my kiss."

your chest tightened. damn him for being sweet after pissing you off.

you leaned in again, pressing your lips to his more firmly this time. he responded immediately, mouth warm against yours, his hand cupped the back of your head, deepening the kiss.

it wasn’t soft or tentative—it was desperate, almost punishing. his teeth scraped your bottom lip, and his tongue pushed into your mouth like he was trying to kiss the fight right out of you.

when you pulled away, his expression had softened, the hard lines of frustration melting into something quieter.

"i love you." he kissed your forehead, then straightened. “well?”

you raised an eyebrow. “well, what?”

his gaze darkened. “say it.”

you roll your eyes dramatically. "say what?"

his jaw clenched. "say you love me too. you don’t get to leave me hangin’ after all that kissin’ shit.”

a smirk tugged at your lips. oh, he was really fishing for it now. “i love you too, okay?”

the words barely left your mouth before his hand shot out, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you toward him.

"good," he muttered, before slamming his lips against yours in another kiss that left you breathless. it wasn’t sweet or gentle—it was hungry, desperate, like he was trying to make up for lost time.

“wait, katsuki, you’re gonna be late—” you gasped against his mouth as his hands roamed down your body.

“fuck work. i’m late anyway," you tried to speak again, but he kissed you so hard it left no room for words.

the argument? forgotten. work? completely irrelevant. all that mattered was the way he was making you feel in that moment, pulling you closer, making your head spin.

his hands tugged at your clothes with an urgency that told you he wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.

“got better things to do while my girl is pissed at me.”

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ hi everyone!! js wanna put this out as a thank you for the 2k follows, oh my gosh i am beyond happy i made it this far. hope yall stick around for more^^

Bakugou seems to have an entitlement to you.

Even though you verbally express how much you hate his guts, he still tells other people that you’re his. It pisses you off more than anything.

He’s been like this since middle school. He bullied you but when someone else tried to do the same he’d loose his shit. He would corner you and dump out your entire book bag. Then you’d have to scramble to pick up the items on the floor. He would even kick some stuff away as you reached for it. Your teeth clenched at his laughter from your frustration because apparently knowing you couldn’t do anything about the treatment was so fucking hilarious to him.

That wasn’t even the worst thing you’d have to deal with from him. Even so, he’d still find a way to boast to everyone that you were his. He’d even walk you home, kicking stones in your path the entire time.

The bullying got slightly better in high school but the entitlement got worse.

He wasn’t insufferable with his treatment anymore but by then you’d hated him too much to care. He would purposely piss you off in the most casual ways. He wasn’t bullying you, he was just annoying you. It’s as if he needed you to remember of his existence.

He’d stand too close, stare relentlessly, use your stuff without asking, sit next to you uninvited, shoulder check you in the hallway, trip you, etc. It was such light treatment that you sounded absolutely crazy explaining how much you hated him for it.

You were talking to Mina about it one day and she wasn’t as understanding as you hoped.

“Wait… you think Bakugou is tormenting you because he’s showing interest in you?”

You sighed heavily,

“No, he’s not showing interest in me. Well, he’s always had interest in me… but the only thing he’s interested in is making my life terrible!”

She laughed,

“Maybe he just wants you to give him a chance. You know, he is telling everyone that you’re his wife.”

You spat out your water at that. Somehow you upgraded from girlfriend to fucking WIFE? He was surely trying to ruin your chances at teen romance just because of this stupid unwarranted grudge. You couldn’t let this happen!

You let it happen. You find yourself now, twenty years old, looking back at school with frustration. You never got a boyfriend (At least not one that you agreed to have). You hadn’t even had your first kiss! Even worse, you were still a virgin! Even worse x3, you still saw Bakugou way too often.

Somehow, whenever you were on patrol, he’d pop up. He was aggravating with his words as he followed you down the street. Your speed walking could never live up to his strides. He caught up to you easily, no matter how fast you paced.

“Why were you talking to that creep at the donut shop?”

It was so ridiculous of a question that you couldn’t hold back from answering.

“Because I wanted some fucking donuts. Also, he’s not a creep.”

Bakugou scoffed,

“I saw how he looked at you while he made those creme filled donuts. He was probably thinking about how he wanted to creme stuff my girlfriend too-“

Your face heated as you cut his vulgar comment off.

“If anything, you’re the creep for even insinuating that he was considering that! Also, I’m still not your girlfriend!”

He gave an annoyed sigh,

“When will you stop saying that? ‘I’m not your girlfriend’. We’ve been over this since middle school. You’re also my wife.”

You were too tired for this. You had hardly any sleep last night because of the mountain of reports you procrastinated and you haven’t eaten since yesterday morning. You only had an hour left of your shift before you could go home and power off in your bed. You hoped that you could even drive in this condition.

“Stop following me. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”

“Watch your step dumb-“

When did you even get on the pavement? And why were you in an alley? Your eyes struggled to stay open as you were dragged up from the concrete.

“What the fuck? When’s the last time you slept?”

You didn’t even have the energy to argue with him. It felt good to lean against him after dragging your feet all day.

“I dunno.”

Everything went blank after that. Now you’ve found yourself in an unknown bed, in the middle of the night. You’ve never felt more relaxed in your life, whether its from the comfortable mattress or the strong arms wrapped around you.

Wait… arms?

You spring up at the realization that you have no idea where you are. You quickly look around to find exits but it’s too dark.

“Fucking relax, its just me.”

Bakugou’s voice, and you just now realize, his smell too. Bakugou grabs you before you can fully jump out of the bed.

“Let go of me!”

“You can whine about this in the morning. I’m tired and I know you’re tired too. Sleep.”

He cradles you in his arms so securely that theres no chance of you getting out. Your panic switches to fatigue at his body heat. The way he begins to play with your hair and the sound of him breathing have you surrendering faster than you’d care to admit. Your eyes flutter shut against Bakugou’s chest.

Maybe you can be your bully’s girlfriend just for tonight.

Wind Breaker Vol.3 BD/DVD Bonus Comic (ENG-Translation)

CUPID’S CORNER : UMEMIYA HAJIME

[☆] you’re a pampered girl from a wealthy background, with everything handed to you on a silver platter—private school, designer clothes, the latest gadgets, and more. meanwhile, umemiya hajime is an ordinary boy raised in an orphanage, leading a life completely different from yours. here’s a glimpse into what it’s like being his girlfriend.

BEWARE: this content might contain [n]sfw, mention of blood, injuries, public place sex, cunnilingus, fluff, light/heavy angst, nineteen! umemiya hajime, fighting, fingering, unprotected/raw sex, suggestive conversation, gangsters, spoiled! fem-reader, etc. . ..

p.s template and diveder credit to the owner.

SPOILED SO ROTTEN

you hate— no, you fucking love it— how umemiya hajime always gives you attention, especially when he gives you that bento lunch box you love so much that you have to throw it at him, so in return for you to ruined his plant, he has to fuck you in furin rooftop.

OH, SADLY?

your boyfriend ignoring you for a whole day only for you to find out that he's fighting against choji from shishitoren and come to your room all beaten up— not really.

MY CUTE LITTLE FAIRY GARDENER

you’ve been nothing but a princess in your entire life, never doing anything for yourself, always having anyone to do things for you. with that information your boyfriend, umemiya asks you— forces you more likely— to garden with him.

NASTY FEVER

you’ve been mia since yesterday, making your boyfriend worried. when umemiya comes to your bedroom, he finds you unable to move from your nasty fever.

SOON !!!

TAGLISTS :

I LOVE MAHINA PLEASE GIMME SOME RANDOM FACTS ABOUT HER LIKE HOW TALL WAS SHE FAVORITE LEAST FAVORITE FOOD WAS SHE AFRAID OF INSTECTS DID SHE LIKE FLUFFY MIHAWK HAT DID SHE PLAN ON HAVING KIDS BEFORE HER DEAL WITH MANU HOW MANY SWORDS DID SHE MAKE DOES SHE LIKE COLD WEATHER OR DOES SHE HAS COLD FEET BIG SPOON OR LITTLE SPOON DID MIHAWK AND HER HAD A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP OR PLATONIC IF SHE GOT TO LIVE WHAT WOULD HER GREATEST SWORD LOOK LIKE DID SHE HAVE A FAVORITE COLOR thanks and sorry ilovya!

HAHAHAHAHA I LOVE THIS MAHINA LOVE, I LOVE HER AND MANU TOO OKAY THANK YOU FOR LOVING THEM <3

I know sometimes stories that get too bogged down with OCs can turn some people away, but I’m really happy and thankful and GLAD you guys liked them so much ;-;

(I have to be wary of spoilers, but here you go!)

Mahina

- Her favorite food was grilled seafood, specifically the best kinds you could eat skewered. Her least favorite is anything too sweet. She likes kalo berries more than kiionohi because they have a more subtle favor and nutrients.

- Insects don’t bother her! Mahina was always the kind of woman who could shove her hands into a hole in the ground to find good ores and pull them out covered in worms and creepy-crawlers but she just brushed them off. 

- She was particularly fond of the birds and the horses that were native to Artopoki. The cremellos and palaminos that live there are wild horses, but many are painted with different coming of age markings because from time to time, a Pokian will live beside the herd and slowly try to form a bond with one horse, build a working relationship with it and in a sense, “ask” it for services for however long before releasing it back into the wild. It was customary to paint your marking somewhere on the horse to show you owed it a life and debt. (The horses with more markings are especially proud because they feel they’ve done a good service)

- She loved the flowers of Artopoki, especially the sea lotuses. (They grow in small, still lulls of seawater along the island coast or on sandy shores) They tended to grow white but could inherit the color of something around them. 

- They were her favorite flower to carve into her markings and Mau’s original guard was in the shape of one until she changed it to a star shaped guard when she planned to give it to Hoku. 

- Her mother passed away giving birth to her and her father was a man of the forge who worked himself to death and drank a lot, he never hurt her though or treated her particularly bad, they just were never very close. Mahina grew up around fire and brimstone and the heat of metal, and she was more of an apprentice to him than a daughter. He did leave her with some valuable skills and parting words she kept with her.

- She and Manu are childhood friends, they’ve known each other since birth. She thinks Manu’s drawings are always the best.

- Manu’s brother wanted to marry her once, she told him if he could ever kill her in a sword fight she’d do it. (He never could.)

- Many Pokians advise against the practice/habit but it wasn’t uncommon for rowdier, wilder Pokians to bet a life on the sake of something. Mahina was one of the rowdier ones.

- “If that sword breaks on you, you can cut me down.”

- Mahina was considered one the greatest weapon crafters Artopoki had seen in a long time. Her weapons were classes and grades above others but specifically her swords. They thought her father taught her some kind of skill, but Mahina says, “The forge and the metal were the first voices I ever heard.”

- She developed her own coating technique. Every Pokian who coats uses different mixtures based on their blood they make themselves, but hers were on another level.

- Women of Artopoki tend to lean toward crafting and the forge while the men were actually often more inclined to be artists, both work places and schools were always fairly even, but there tended to be a bit more of the other respectively. 

- Mahina was the type of Pokian to have more feline features (sharper canines, very agile movements and balance, the gold in her eyes tended to be an almost feline-like slit) some Pokians tended to inherit that trait but they’re not really sure of reasons but they have speculative sayings like, “More of the goddess in that one.” or “You’ve got her touch.”

- She loves Mihawk’s hat. Originally it didn’t come with the plume and she found it and felt like it really completed the look. He never said no.

- The cross-knife was one of the first things she ever forged for Mihawk, he wore it with him always and preferred not to use it. When Mahina had to return to Artopoki, he gave it back to her to hold onto and when they met again, she gave it back to him.

- She and Mihawk traveled together for many years while both building names for themselves, they had to find funds to make their travels around and often set up shop like the scene with her and Tsuru where Mahina would sell weapons and swords and Mihawk would demonstrate how well they cut.

- They’ve traveled to many places, I wonder where?

- Mahina is a few years older than Mihawk!

- Was it romantic or platonic? Mmm, this question has been asked many times and I’ll answer like always by not really answering–they were very close and each other’s greatest friends, they trusted each other more than anyone else. Partners through and through.

- Mahina never really thought about having kids but she didn’t mind the idea, her swords were always her children first.

- Mahina is terrible with cold weather but Manu always seemed to move just fine in it.

- How many swords? Hahahaha I wonder…

- I guess she’s the big spoon? She always fell asleep with her head against her swords and the swords in her arms.

- Mahina was the more easy-going parent. Manu was usually the stricter one between the two and more ferocious and protective, Mahina’s the kinda mom that would let her four-year-old hold her swords and sit next to her while she sharpened them.

- Her favorite color is any shade of metal.

- She was never sure what the greatest sword would ever look like, she figured she’d know when the time came for her to make it, but she did know what she wanted to name it and the epithet she wanted it to carve and cut for itself.

- She wanted to name it Hoku. A sword that could cut through stars.

sorry that this is such a weird,unhinged question but..what do weeds and bakugou fight about? And how do they apologize? it's just so human you know, and i like thinking about them living their little day-to-day life lol

They’d bicker about inane things all the time; old comics and the fried shit Akane makes for Weeds at work (even tho she also makes a Ground Zero speciality, now, for his Grumpiness, which would be an extra-spicy curry bun that she fries with a neat little trick to brand it with a familiar cross ❌). They’d have more serious disagreements about, idk; Bakugou’s free time overlapping when Weeds is babysitting Haru, maybe. Weeds and Haru are very much besties; sometimes they might have sleepovers, at Weed’s apartment—it means Bakugou comes home to a quiet, dark apartment of his own and while he appreciates (and needs, tbh) the alone time, I think there’s going always going to be a part of him that gets more and more restless, when he can’t easily hear the noise of Weeds going about her own stuff.

They’d only truly fight about one thing: Bakugou trying to dictate measures for Weed’s safety. Not in a casual, overprotective-boyfriend-way, but in a, “I am a Pro Hero, this is my professional judgement about the situation, and you are going to listen to me” kind of way. A, “I think you should reconsider working in the shop” when Weeds is outted as being his partner kind of way. Stuff that isn’t necessarily fair to ask, but is a hazard of dating a famous and popular Pro Hero.

(How do you apologise, from that kind of argument? With the every day bickering, the playful squabbles, it might be a simple “fuck you!” before grumpily passing a drink, or trying to a bite a ear. With the terser disagreements, their apologies are more often a melting—the pair of them giving each other space until one of them softens up before the other. Weeds pressing a kiss against his shoulder, whispering we’re okay, feeling him relax like a cat into her touch; Katsuki reaching out to cup her face, frowning to himself, before he tells her he loves her.

But a true fight? One where they end up screaming at each other because they’re both afraid? Where Katsuki’s neck flushes red with how angry he is and Weed’s throws something, in a rare fit of temper, the tears hot against her cheeks?

They have to use their words, their proper words, to fix that. Whether it’s a few hours later, or a day or so, or even in that moment—Weeds turning away from him, shoulders shaking with uncontrollable, disappointed sobs. She can only hear her own hiccuping, Katsuki silent—too silent—for a long, long moment. Then there’s some small noise, or stirring—the shifting of shoes or slippers, maybe—and she’s aware, suddenly, that Katsuki’s moved closer, careful not to touch her.

He’ll say her name. Her proper name, not Weeds. Quietly, like he’s afraid it’ll unseal her from him, burn up the bond between them.

“‘M sorry,” he says, when she turns to him. “I don’t—I hate this shit, too.”

It’s not a solution, not even a suggestion of one. But Weeds will nod and whisper, “I’m sorry too,” and Katsuki’s face won’t change from it’s stony seriousness but his knuckles will brush against her fingers, just gently, before Weeds lets them entangle.)

The thing that gets me is im not even a lash out girlie when im really angry. I go fucking silent and ICY. I know my anger is a quiet seething terrible despicable thing and i usually only keep the real ugly shit to myself.

But just the IDEA of being able to comfortably go into that rage state and knowing the person seeing it won't see it as despicable or ugly and just sees it as a part of you which in turn makes it something they love is just...leveling me right now.

𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜: 𝐺𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒

ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᴮᵃᵏᵘᵍᵒ'ᵈ ᵃᶜᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ·

Bakugo isn’t the type of boyfriend who chases after you right after a fight. He’s not one to apologize immediately or keep sending messages non-stop. He’s like a contained fire, wrapped up in his own pride, and when a fight breaks out, his first move is to pull away.

So, he locks himself in the gym, as usual. He punches the bag with all his anger, lifts weights like he’s trying to crush the frustration building up inside him. He runs, jumps, trains, trains, and trains until his muscles are screaming. For those first few hours, he manages to shut down the voice in his head that keeps calling your name. But that peace? It doesn’t last. It never does.

By the time it’s around 7:00 p.m. and the sky’s painted with a red hue, guilt hits him. He remembers everything he said, how he said it, and the way you looked when it all ended. “Damn it…” he mutters to himself, clenching his fists. He wonders if he went too far. If he really had to say all that. He realizes it might’ve been a stupid thing to do.

Before he can think it through, he’s already heading out to find you. It wasn’t planned. He’s not overthinking it. He just moves, almost like his feet know the way better than his mind.

And that’s when he stops thinking so much and listens to his heart instead.

When he finally sees you, he doesn’t rush. He walks over with purpose, that usual scowl on his face—the one you’ve learned to read. He’s not mad. He’s just tense. He reaches out and grabs your wrist—not roughly, but firm enough to stop you from pulling away before he can speak.

“Can we talk?” he asks, his voice rougher than usual, but softer than you'd expect. It’s forced, like he’s not used to being gentle, but for you, he’s willing to try.

Then he looks you in the eyes. You’re probably still pissed, but when it comes to you, he’s ready to own up to his mistakes.

Only with you.

Content @ghostlycamil4 2025. Do not copy or modify.

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