You finally made it home. Feet sore, hoodie half-falling off your shoulder, you dropped onto the couch like a deadweight and exhaled for what felt like the first time all day. Katsuki was suspiciously quiet in the kitchen. No commentary, no explosions, not even a grunt. That should have been your first warning. Then you shifted to grab the remote, and something tugged - sharp, unmistakable - right at the waistband of your sweatpants. You freeze. He has been waiting all week since your little prank. Patient. Silent. Absolutely plotting. And now that grin spreading across his face from the doorway tells you everything. He finally got you.