#well im off to listen to mint jams then! thanks for explaining :]

[tamakiamajikistentacles]

Let Me {Katsuki Bakugo}

Quirks were just like any other physical ability in that overuse lead to strain. Training was always the preferred method of avoiding that strain, extending the limit to which pain or side effects would begin, but support items were also a viable option for the modern pro hero. Oftentimes, support items were used in conjunction with training so that if the item were to be lost or damaged during combat, a hero would still be able to perform their duties.

Katsuki Bakugo had spent years training his body to push past its natural limits for his quirk, and his mind to withstand the pain of overdoing it. He wasn’t stupid, though, he knew that adding in the bracers for his hero costume were an excellent idea to help him fire off explosions larger than what he could handle on his own. It worked well for him, and he had put a lot of villains behind bars thanks to the combination of skill and enhancement.

Even when the bracers were destroyed, disintegrating right off of his wrists and forearms, he got the job done. Ground Zero was a pro who did not take kindly to losing.

Which is exactly why his wrapped arms and shoulders were throbbing painfully as he stood on the platform of the train station near his agency, the late afternoon sun at his back. His messenger bag felt like lead as it dug into the muscle of his right shoulder. Every so often, his fingers would twitch from the strain throughout his arms.

He stepped on to the local train to head home, his mind only fixated on resting for the rest of the night and for the weekend upcoming. As he sat down, he let out a soft sigh of relief at the fact that the train car was essentially empty, allowing him to let his bag rest on the seat next to him. He legitimately didn’t think that he could manage moving it onto his lap.

Eyes half-lidded, he watched the LED screen scroll through the stops until his own displayed. With a deep breath to ready himself for the weight of his bag once again, he stood to exit the train.

“Shit,” he mumbled tiredly. He continued out of the station and trekked the final three blocks home, grateful that only his arms were out of commission; he could at least make it home without them.

That thought was immediately rescinded when he came to his apartment building and realized that he needed to scan his keycard to enter the lobby. His keycard that was in his wallet, which was somewhere in his messenger bag.

He glanced down to his bag, defeat overtaking his features as he stiffly moved his arm to dig around the main compartment. He fumbled through the contents, his muscles awkwardly uncooperative as he bumped against his empty bento box and the tangled headphones he could’ve sworn were neatly put away after his morning commute. Once his fingers felt the smooth leather of his wallet, he plucked it from the depths of the bag, slowly tapping it against the reader to enter the building.

Pushing the door open with his hip, he sped to the elevator and jammed his finger into the buttons hard, his arms tingling uncomfortably. The numbers ticked higher until settling on 17, a quiet ping sounding out when the doors parted. Stepping out onto the blue carpeted hallway, he moved towards the apartment marked 1701 at the opposite end of the hall.

The sight of his girlfriend lounging on the couch greeted him once he opened the door and between that and the knowledge that he could finally rest, he felt his aching shoulders sag in relief as he dropped his bag to the ground by his kicked off shoes.

“Welcome home,” she greeted quietly, sitting up to make room for him next to her. “I have the heating pads ready for you if you want those first, but I can grab some ice packs if you prefer. Oh, and your compression sleeves are clean and sitting on the night table.”

He stared at her, not registering her words at first, but when she stood up and crossed over to him, her soft hands cupping his face, he snapped back to the moment.

“You did good today. I’m proud of you,” she said, pecking him on the lips. “All thirty-five hostages rescued and not a single casualty other than the bank building about to undergo renovations anyway.”

Bakugo’s brows furrowed. “I don’t need a reward for doing my job.”

“Katsuki, I’m not rewarding you for doing your job, I’m giving you what you need to feel better since you overused your quirk. My plugging in two heating pads and pulling your compression sleeves out of your drawer was to save you five or ten minutes of dealing with your pain. Forgive me if I’m not interested in seeing my boyfriend suffer any longer than he has to,” she said coolly, lips pouting slightly.

He sighed. “That’s—I’m not trying to be an asshole. The last few hours have been hell, but I really do appreciate you helping me. Thank you.”

That allowed the pout to reform into a smile.

“You really have to learn to let me take care of you. You’d think after three and a half years together you’d get it through your head,” she teased, tapping two fingers against his forehead, secretly tickled that he couldn’t swat her hand away. “Now, heat is usually what you prefer first, so do you want me to grab those heating pads to put on your shoulders after we unwrap your arms and put the sleeves on?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled in agreement, watching as she disappeared into their bedroom. He crossed over to the couch, the plush cushions encouraging his body to relax as he sat down.

She reappeared with his compression sleeves in her hands and plopped onto the couch next to him, setting one sleeve to the side as she reached for his arm closest to her.

“You need to fire whoever wrapped your arms for starting at your wrist and going up. It’s usually easiest clipping the end at your wrist so your shoulders aren’t limited in their mobility,” she explained, gently pulling his arm out towards her and letting his hand rest on her thigh as she set about unwinding the fabric from his arm. As she worked, she could feel the tightness of his tendons and the heat of overuse, his muscles twitching every so often beneath his skin.

Once he was finally free of the bandages, she slid the compression sleeve up his arm and adjusted it to the proper position before standing and moving to his other side to repeat the process on the opposite arm.

“Shoulda been a nurse,” Bakugo mumbled as the second sleeve was put in place.

“Nah,” she disagreed. “You know I’m not good with blood. Plus if I were a nurse, who knows if Ochaco and Izuku’s wedding would’ve actually happened, honestly.”

“Got that shit right,” he said. “I still don’t know how you got green and pink to look nice together.”

She waved a hand flippantly as she got off the couch. “The right shade of mint and the right shade of blush aren’t that hard to come by; any good wedding planner knows that. It just takes some time. I’m gonna grab the heating pads for you.”

He watched her leave the room once again, gingerly bending his arms now that the compression sleeves were securely in place. They still felt heavy as he moved them around to try and work out some of the soreness, and he grimaced at the pull of his tender muscles.

“Now that pink on your cheeks would make a good color for my clients,” she mused from his left, startling him. “Maybe we should save the stretches for after dinner, yeah? Rest up with the heat on your shoulders and I’ll get cooking.”

“You don’t have to cook,” he said, reaching for the heating pads. “We can just get takeout from the ramen place on the next block.”

She held the heating pads out of his reach. “Nope, I’m making stir fry while you rest your arms. Now pick a comfortable position and let me take care of you, asshole.”

“You sure you’re quirkless?” he grumbled as he settled down into the couch cushions and she arranged the pads on his shoulders, the heat making him relax slightly. “They had to have missed your stubborn ass attitude when they diagnosed you.”

“The extra joints in my toes don’t lie; your girl’s quirkless,” she chuckled, kicking her foot up and turning to the side, wiggling her toes within her sock.

He grunted, allowing his head to tip backwards to rest on the back of the couch.

“Rest up,” she murmured, running her hand through his hair. “I’ll take the heating pads off in about ten minutes and get you when the food is done. If you wanna fall asleep, I’ll wake you for stir fry.”

An overwhelming part of him hated being told what to do to feel better, like he was some little kid who needed his parent to watch over him so he didn’t hurt himself even more. But he paid attention instead to the smaller voice within his mind that told him to listen to her, to let her take care of him. It wasn’t that she thought he was weak, he reasoned, but just as she’d said when he had snapped when he came home, she wanted to help him feel better because she cared about him.

Sighing as her hand fell away from his hair, he blinked up at her. “You gonna make it spicy?”

“I’ve got everything to make the Szechuan style we saw on that cooking show. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, closing his eyes and allowing the heat of the pads to soothe the ache in his shoulders.

He heard her soft footsteps retreat into the kitchen, and then the quiet bangs of cabinets opening and closing. The background noise lulled him to sleep before long, the comfort of being home and knowing his girlfriend was nearby making it that much easier to relax.

The next thing he knew, the heated weight of the pads had disappeared from his shoulders and the spicy scent of dinner was hanging thick in the apartment. Blinking open his eyes, the first thing he saw was a familiar, warm smile.

“Dinner’s ready,” she said happily. “I hope you enjoyed your cat nap.”

He hummed, sitting up straight and assessing his arms’ condition. Stretching didn’t hurt as much but it still wasn’t pleasant; at least eating wouldn’t be painful.

Rising to his feet, he followed her to the chabudai that was already set with a bowl of stir fry and chopsticks for each of them.

Bakugo had never been overly impressed with mealtime gatherings that seemed to only be had to make small talk and have the “how was your day, honey?” questions he’d been a reluctant party to when he was growing up, but when it was just the two of them alone in the apartment, he liked it. It was enjoyable to recount his day’s events and watch her reactions to the gritty details of his job that he admittedly only threw in to get a rise out of her, and even better when she’d stroke his ego with praise. Listening to her tell of her days planning the arrangements of who knew how many weddings was something he looked forward to hearing, too. With as many roles as he played and tasks he had to complete at the agency, there were moments where he was in awe at everything she managed to accomplish for the people who hired her.

Quirkless as could be, she was one of the most sought-after wedding planners in the country because of her involvement in executing both the Shinto and Christian ceremonies of Deku and Uravity. With the endorsements of two new, rising heroes on her resume, she had attracted a lot of attention of other pros who were willing to pay a handsome amount for her services. Bakugo’s attention was also caught during the planning phase and the actual ceremonies, but not for her wedding planning services.

Three and a half years later, he was grateful that the damn nerd had brought her into his life, but he would be absolutely damned if he’d ever admit it out loud.

Even as she waved off his loud insistences of helping clean up their dishes, he was grateful.

“For heaven’s sake, Katsuki, it’ll take me like five minutes to get the leftovers cleared away and our bowls washed!” she sighed. “Go wait for me on the couch, I’ll be right there. Queue up that movie about the spies we need to watch.”

Grumbling the entire time, he set to work arranging the few throw pillows on their couch into a small pile that he would inevitably end up draped over while she curled against him. He grabbed the fluffy grey blanket that he knew she would want too despite the heat in the apartment and the natural warmth his body produced.

With the remote in hand, he took his place on the couch against the pillows he had set up, the blanket to the far side so that she had room to press against him, which is exactly what she did as she came in from the kitchen. She pulled the blanket around herself as he tucked her under his arm, the blanket over his arm and partially covering his chest. A quiet mumble to begin the movie came from her and he obliged.

The plot, he quickly realized, was predictable and stupid. He should have expected that really since it was Kirishima and Kaminari who had suggested the movie during their last get-together and of all the movies they had suggested to him since their time at UA, he had only ever enjoyed three. So, he checked out of the scenes on the screen and let his mind wander—the day had been long enough that he probably deserved some more time to not do or think of anything important.

His eyes closed as he moved to lay more on the pillows he had gathered earlier, but his face contorted into a grimace as it sent twinges down both of his arms.

Her weight against him disappeared, gingerly guiding his arm from around her shoulders. “Are you alright, Katsuki?”

“Yeah,” he gritted out, the dull throb that had appeared distracting. “Kept them in one position for too long. They locked up on me.”

“You want me to grab ice this time or should we go with heat again?” she asked. “I can try massaging your arms if you think that’ll help?”

He shook his head. “No, its fine, just… keep watching the movie.”

“This movie sucks, the guys were full of shit when they said we’d like it, so let me help you instead.”

“You don’t—”

“If you’re about to tell me that I don’t need to take care of you or do something that’s going to help you, I will fucking scream,” she warned, cutting him off. “Can you just let me do what I can to take care of you? I don’t like seeing you in pain and if there’s something I can do to help alleviate it, I’m going to do it!”

He took a heavy breath before speaking. “I swear that I’m not trying to piss you off, I just… you know I’m shitty at asking for help or whatever. And I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.”

She sighed, lifting a hand to thread through the hair at the base of his neck. He was a complicated bastard on the best days, but he was her complicated bastard and she couldn’t ever imagine a time when she wouldn’t want to make their relationship work.

“I know that you’re able to take care of yourself, Katsuki,” she said softly. “You’re great at taking care of me and I appreciate it more than you know, but sometimes I can help you too. Relationships are a two-way street; we take care of each other, you know?”

He felt her tug on his hair lightly, small zings of pressure a better feeling than the pain he’d been experiencing so far that night.

“Maybe a massage would help,” he relented, voice quiet.

She smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Let’s leave the tidying up for the morning and head into the bedroom where you can sprawl out more.”

Bakugo hummed, once again ignoring the large part of him that was uncomfortable with being tended to, and stood up, stretching his back before heading into their bedroom. He fell face first onto the mattress, the once-pristinely made bed flying askew with blankets rumpled under him and the two throw pillows flopping over sadly.

“What a view,” he heard followed by a low, playful whistle.

He turned his head so that she could see his exaggerated eyeroll, a few giggles escaping from her as she moved to climb on the bed with him.

She tossed a leg over his torso and settled into the dip of his lower back, her hands splaying out across his shoulders. The tension was still radiating through him like it had earlier and she was determined to help ease his pain however she could.

“I’m gonna take the compression sleeves off,” she said, hooking her fingers into the band at the top of his left arm. When he gave a quiet hum of consent, she peeled the sleeve down as gently as she could and slipped it off of his wrist. Repeating the process on the other arm, she tossed the sleeves on the bedside table and traced the reddish indents on his skin softly.

After a moment, she returned her hands to his shoulders and started to knead into the muscles there, working up the amount of pressure she used to work out the tightness. His skin still felt warm from the overuse of his quirk, but it was much better than when he had first come home.

She worked methodically to massage down his arms, varying the pressure she used when he would wince or suck in a breath, unable to let himself show the pain and soreness she knew he had to be feeling. Once she reached his wrists, she started at his shoulders and repeated the process again, happy to not have as many signs of discomfort from her boyfriend. The tension beneath his skin was considerably less when she finally pulled her hands away from his wrists for the second time.

“I hope that helped a bit,” she murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to the back of his neck.

He let out a content breath. “Sit up.”

She straightened back up and raised up onto her knees from her sitting position on his back. Bakugo flipped over onto his back beneath her and she settled back down to sit on his thighs while his hands came to land on hers. His arms were still sore with a dull ache, but the soft touch of her massage had helped soothe the pain to something more than manageable.

“That definitely helped,” he told her, looking up at her through the hair that had fallen into his face. “I should be good after getting a decent night’s sleep, but you worked out most of the tightness. Thanks for that. Thanks for everything you did tonight.”

She brushed the hair out of his eyes with a tiny smile. “I told you, I don’t like seeing you in pain. I love you way too much to let you suffer if there’s something I can do to help.”

Bakugo sat up at her words, one hand sliding up to her hip and the other going to the back of her neck as he kissed her. Her hands wrapped loosely around his neck and she kissed him back, feeling him relax even further.

Breaking apart, he let out a happy sigh and rested his forehead against hers with both of their eyes still closed. “I know I probably don’t say it enough, but I love you too.”

“I know you do, even if you don’t say it out loud; you say it when you let me take care of you like you did tonight,” she said quietly, nudging her nose against his. “You’re a man of action, and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

He smirked, then pressed his lips back to hers. Curling his arm around her waist, he used the placement of his hands to gently maneuver her off of his thighs and down to lie with her back to the mattress, his body covering hers. He braced himself on his forearms and continued kissing her, deepening it with a soft bite to her bottom lip and feeling his skin heat for a different reason when she allowed him into her mouth. It was short lived, though, because his arms started to tremble, and before they could completely give out to make his full weight fall onto her, he rolled off of her and onto the other side of the bed, their kiss breaking far too soon for either of their tastes.

“Damn it!” he snapped, the tremors fainter without needing to hold himself up.

She grasped his hand in hers as they laid side by side. “Katsuki, it’s okay if you need to rest. We can pick right back up with this tomorrow when you’re not as sore.”

“After having a shit day like this and coming home with a piss poor attitude, you did all this shit to make me feel better and I can’t even thank you by taking care of you in bed,” he ground out through gritted teeth. He glared off to his left, not wanting to show his disappointment in himself. “Some man of action I am.”

He felt the bed shift and a hand cup his jaw, slowly moving his head to turn and look at her. Their hands still clasped together between them, he realized that she had moved to lie on her side and face him.

“Have I ever told you how goddamn self-depreciating you are?” she asked with a pout to match the one he had unknowingly adopted in the past minute. “Because it’s definitely one of those things we need to work on.”

She then sat up and once again tossed a leg over him, settling herself down firmly in his lap, causing a low groan to slip past his pout. Eager to hear it again, she smiled and began to slowly grind against him.

His eyes fell closed and his hands landed back on her thighs. “Is this about to be another moment where I’m supposed to let you take care of me?”

“My man is so smart,” she praised, leaning down to kiss him and pick up right back where they had left off moments ago.

He lifted his hips slightly to gain more friction, her slow motions not nearly enough for how worked up he was feeling, and his fingers found the hem of her shirt, pushing it upwards until she had no choice but to break the kiss to toss it aside.

With her bare skin exposed, he ignored the heavy feeling in his arms to run his fingertips across her stomach and up the expanse of her back, popping the clasp of her bra with more precision than he expected from his formerly fumbling digits. He then worked the straps down her arms and threw the fabric aside easily, his kisses moving along her jaw with the intent of finding the best patch of skin to mark as his hands came up to cup her chest, kneading the soft skin.

“Your shirt too,” she gasped out as he scraped his teeth across the side of her neck. Her hands snuck beneath his t-shirt and glided up his torso, the ridges of muscle all too familiar under her fingertips. Within a minute his shirt joined hers on the floor and she pressed their bare chests together as he continued to create a mark on her neck, her small whines filling in the silence of the room.

He pulled back once he was satisfied with the mark he had left, smirking when she let out a soft moan as he moved his hips harder against hers. The quiet, breathy moans she let out were all the encouragement he needed to tuck his fingers into the waistband of her leggings and underwear, tugging them down slightly.

Pushing herself up and off the edge of their bed, she slipped both pieces of clothing down her legs and kicked them off to the side before climbing back onto the bed as Bakugo stared at her, his joggers and underwear also shed in the time she took to stand up and discard hers.

She reclaimed her place in his lap, feeling his excitement against her thigh as she leaned down to mold her body against his, cupping his jaw to reconnect their lips in a hard kiss that only became deeper when his tongue ran across her bottom lip. Her hands threaded through his hair as they continued to kiss, a low whimper escaping her when one of his hands left her hip to press between her legs.

“Katsuki,” she panted, breaking the kiss and burying her head in the crook of his neck as she felt two of his fingers rub her clit with slow but firm strokes. His pace could almost be called lazy, but she knew that he was anything but when it came to their intimate moments, ever generous and attentive.

Her heavy breaths changed to quiet whines as he worked his fingers lower, gently easing both of them past her folds to get her prepared. The noises she let out were perfect to him—even though they had the freedom to be as loud as they wanted in their own home, it just wasn’t how either of them expressed their pleasure. Low murmurs and breathless moans were their language in those moments, only the other able to hear and understand.

“You’re the best part of bad days,” he whispered, rhythmically curling his fingers in search of the one spot he knew would cause her whimpers to become even sweeter. “Coming home to you means I fuckin’ won, no matter how shit the day was.”

The end of his sentence was punctuated by a higher pitched moan when his fingers hit just right.

“Please, I’m ready, Katsuki,” she said quietly, shifting to kiss below his ear as her hips bucked into his hand. “Let me have you.”

Bakugo groaned as he withdrew his hand and she sat up to position herself over him, thankful that they had taken their precautions that made condoms unnecessary. Each time they were together, he felt closer to her, but once they were intimate without any barriers, he had no desire to ever go back and risk the newfound level of closeness discovered when it was only the two of them and their passion.

His hands went to her hips to guide her into place, and she moved to lower herself down onto him, each of their eyes falling closed at the feeling.

“Fuck,” he breathed out as she took him completely, his already waning self-control growing even thinner, “I… you feel so good.”

She let out a choked laugh, placing her hands on his stomach for stability. “You do too. But I can make it feel even better.”

Lifting her hips almost completely off of him, she paused for only a moment before dropping back down with a gasp. She rolled her hips to start a rhythm as she began to ride him, every few movements lifting up and dropping back down. With the firm grip on her hips and the placement of her hands on his stomach, she kept her balance to make sure her movements remained uninterrupted.

Bakugo began to buck his hips up into hers as she brought herself down onto him, both of them moaning at the new rhythm’s intensity. His right hand left her hip to once again apply pressure to her clit, knowing she needed just a bit more to reach her orgasm.

“Y-you always know what I need,” she said breathily. She was close, and she knew he had to be too.

He smirked, his half-lidded eyes making it that much sexier, and let his fingers make fast figure eights to get her closer to the edge than she already was.

“Cum before me or with me, your choice,” he said lowly, feeling his muscles tense, coiled and ready to reach the high he was desperately chasing.

Her cheeks flushed, she rushed out, “I’m-I’m c-“ but cut herself off with a whimper of his name as she bent forward to press her body against his tightly as her orgasm shook through her, drawing out his release at the sudden tightness around him. After a few moments when the initial sensitivity began to disappear, she pulled off of him and lowered herself onto her side to face him. Immediately, he turned to her and his arms came around her back to pull her close as hers curled around his biceps, his skin prickling slightly at the feel of her nails digging into him and concentrating the dull ache in one area. They were both panting heavily, her body trembling against his. The afterglow was starting to hit them both, and as their breathing came more slowly and evenly, they sank again into slow, deep kisses that were sure to extend the time they could float on their own cloud nine.

Uncurling her now-loosened fingers from his biceps, she ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair and pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes. He watched her, one hand tracing an easy up and down pattern on her back.

“I love you, Katsuki.”

“I love you too,” he returned quietly. “Thank you for always being here to take care of me. I promise that I’ll always be here to do it for you too.”

She smiled. “How do your arms feel?”

“Still sore, but I’ll be alright,” he replied with a shrug.

Hugging him to her, she pressed a kiss to both of his cheeks and his forehead before giving him a lingering kiss on his lips, one he eagerly tried to chase when she finally pulled away to stand up. He grunted in annoyance but couldn’t deny that the image of her in front of him looking very blissed out and sporting a red and soon-to-be purple love bite on her neck was one he would be happy to stare at for the rest of his life.

“I gotta clean up,” she said as she walked into their bathroom.

Bakugo took the moment alone to reflect on his day. He would for sure chalk the work part of his day up as shit, no two ways about it. Any time he overused his quirk was a bad time, but also the paperwork he had to submit to get his spare bracers upgraded so that the same situation didn’t happen again in the future was frustrating and repetitive. Well, that was most paperwork he had to do, but his extremely sour mood didn’t do much to help.

But then he came home. He came home to a beautiful, hardworking, and thoughtful girlfriend that did every goddamn thing in her power to help him and make sure he was okay after overworking his power to the point of pain. She took care of him in quite literally every way possible and fuck, was he just so damn grateful.

Her voice stirred him from his thoughts as she came out of the bathroom and announced, “Your turn!”

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he bent down to scoop up his underwear and sweatpants from earlier to place in the laundry hamper on his way to the bathroom. As he crossed the short distance, he watched her grab his discarded shirt from the floor and set it aside on the bed. Typically she would wear his civilian clothes to sleep in, and he would bet any amount he had in his wallet that those were her intentions.

After cleaning up and brushing his teeth, he shut off the bathroom light and made his way to his drawer to find a pair of shorts to sleep in, easily plucking them out and slipping them on as he threw himself back into their bed. He settled down into his pillow and watched her put her hair into her preferred sleep style, naked still except for a pair of tiny shorts.

“Anything you need me to grab before we turn in for the night?” she asked, turning around to face him as she slipped on the dark shirt he had worn home to sleep in.

Fuck, she looked so good in his clothes and for heaven’s sake, he couldn’t take it any longer.

He raised a single finger from where his hands laid on his stomach. “Just one thing. Can you go into the closet and get my UA blazer?”

She leveled him with a curious gaze, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Please?” he added with a pout.

“Now I was told that fantasy was going to be a one and done type of deal,” she teased, walking towards their shared closet to retrieve the blazer.

She easily found it, slightly dusty from being smushed against the wall with the rest of the uniform he hadn’t touched in years. Maneuvering it off of the clothes hanger, she draped it over her arm and turned back to him. When she started to shift it over to him, he stopped her.

“Look in the right-hand pocket.”

Dipping her hand into the pocket, she felt smooth leather at her fingertips as they curled around the object.

“C’mere. You can toss the blazer.”

She kept her palm closed around the black box as best she could as she shakily set the blazer aside. When she turned back to him, he gestured her towards him, and she complied, slowly moving back onto their bed. Gently, he took her free hand and pulled her closer so that she was sitting on his lap once again.

“I’ve had this in that pocket for two months,” he said, tapping the exposed side of the box from where it lay in her hand. “Been trying to think of the best way to go about this because you plan weddings for a living and hear so many engagement stories… I wanted ours to be perfect so that anytime you hear your clients tell theirs you just think ‘yeah, but ours was better.’ Knowing you, though, you wouldn’t want any of that fancy or elaborate shit, you’d just want something us and honestly, what’s more us than stir fry and sex on a Friday night? So, after talking about letting you take care of me and me taking care of you, how about we just take care of each other until we’re old as fuck? Marry me?”

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