𝔄𝔫 ℑ𝔫𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔄𝔴𝔞𝔶 | Katsuki Bakugo x OC

Chapter 68 - Pupils Blown Wide

It's too hot. Just too hot.

Sweat dripped from Katsuki's shoulders, his core sweltered and boiled, and his skin was flushed as much as it burned.

He couldn't think straight. All he could do was grip the cotton sheets as another wave of sweet pain rolled down his spine till the tips of his toes. He jerks his head back into his pillow, groaning through clenched teeth and flared nostrils.

It was getting harder to breathe. Like not enough air could get into his lungs as he spluttered through ragged breaths. Like he was inside a sauna that continued to get hotter, more humid, thicker with his scent and his desire.

He wringed the sheets with his hands, releasing small pops of explosions. He really was sweating all too much.

He'd have rubbed one out by now. But Katsuki's stubbornness didn't let him. He refused to succumb to his instincts so easily. Because he's never done it before during his rut, and he shouldn't need to now.

But hell, with the fog in his mind, and the way his muscles twitch for relief, he's tempted.

Especially when his mind always went to visions of Hina. Under him, next to him, above him. All around him. All he could think was of her scent, her touch, her sound. He craved all of her, was desperate for her.

But some sane corner of his mind held him back, chained his rabid thoughts down, far away from her.

Not like his inner alpha let him though.

We need our mate. We need our Hina.

He clenched the cotton cover of his pillow, pressing the back of his head deep into the cushion. As if he didn't know exactly what he needed then. Some part of him wanted to strangle the inner alpha within him. The other part- the stronger part- wanted to rip the door off its hinges, and take Hina to his room.

He wanted to hold her close, kiss every expanse of her skin, inhale every little sound she'd make.

And the more he thought of her—how she'd breathe his name, squirm from his touch, her voice soft yet commanding through the millimeter of space between them—the more his inner alpha's pleas became more enticing.

Eventually, when the heat became too much—when the trickle of sweet yet bitter cinnamon coffee filtered inside—he gave in.

Over wobbly feet, through heaving breaths, under sweltering skin, he tripped- crawled-clawed- his way to the double enforced door.

He amplified his croons, let it reverberate through the metal, desperately sniffing for his omega's scent like a predator starving through months of deprived needs.

There was a crack between the doorframe

And the door where the hinges were nailed through. With his heightened senses, he could peek through, could smell the alluring perfume Hina exuded. It only served to make his inner alpha more wild- more inhibited.

He didn't realize he was speaking, more like growling and snarling, with his fingers digging into the door in a helpless frenzy. He didn't realize until her voice whistled through in a quiet mollifying syrup.

"I'm always yours," she said, "Always."

The grumbles, the clawing, the sniffing, and the near weeps stopped. All remained was the reticent croons trapped within his lungs. That and the heat that seemed to steam off of him.

He huffed through his nose, pressing his forehead, and his palms with spread out fingers, on the icy metal of the door.

The frigidness was not enough to simmer the heat that nearly boils within his navel painfully. But the coolness of her voice, of her reassurance, was.