"Hey," Katsuki called out rudely, stomping into your shared chambers. He almost seemed angry, but you knew that wasn't the case. He came to your spot on the bed, and crashed down on top of you, burying his head in your chest. "I'm so fucking sick of this bitchass royals, trying to make me kiss their asses," he complained gruffly, glancing up at you. "The king of the barbarians doesn't fucking grovel," he grumbled.

He slid down from his place on top of you, now kneeling, and as soon as you sit up in front of him he's gently pulling down your stockings, kissing at your bare ankle languidly and gazing up at you with adoration.

"This day's been so shitty for no reason," he scoffed between kisses. This was how he relaxed, by doing the very thing he or anyone else thought he'd never do. Worship. Worship you, his beautiful, loving, caring partner. You were the only one who deserved his worshipping, that's what he told himself. That's why he did it.