#how he can be kind of overbearing and annoying

[heich0e]

that little suna thing i posted earlier made me think a lot about his relationship with his younger sister. big brother suna....... uhhhhhhhhhhhh mmmmmmm hmmmmmm

[bumblingbabooshka]

One of the best Voyager scenes to indicate Tuvok & Neelix's dynamic and how I think Tuvok is just as if not more 'annoying'(positive) than Neelix is when Neelix pours Tuvok a fresh squeezed glass of a fruit juice blend and Tuvok's like (paraphrased) "I don't want to drink this." and Neelix is like "Can you please try it?" and Tuvok's like "I don't want to, you're really bad at this sort of thing. It's going to taste bad." and Neelix says that Ensign XYZ said she LOVED it, she even had a second glass! And Tuvok says Ensign XYZ could drink poison without a second thought and Neelix is like "Tuvok could you please just TRY it? Just try a little SIP of it PLEASE??" and Tuvok sighs and rolls his eyes and sniffs it before taking a sip and it turns out he loves it. Turns out it tasted good actually. And then after all that Neelix tries to talk to him over eggs (which he's again cooking fresh for him) and Tuvok tells him he doesn't wanna hear "the life history of his breakfast." Absolutely insufferable this man I would have burned his eggs on PURPOSE!!!!

[fated-normal-767]

I don’t even think I’m a bad or dislikeable person but unfortunately I do think everyone else thinks this. Mainly because I keep seeing proof that they do.

[a11eya]

TITLE: lights will guide you home

CHAPTER: 11

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

SUMMARY: Soul-lights aren’t as common in this day and age as they were in the past, before quirks, but they’re common enough that people do still find their soulmates.

At thirteen, you meet Bakugou Katsuki, and he lights up for you in orange and gold. You tell him he's your soulmate. He sneers and tells you that you aren't his. He makes your adolescence miserable until you part ways.

You meet again as adults, late at night, in a grocery store, over a pile of bok choy. He apologizes for how he treated you when you were children.

(In which you have a choice—to reject Bakugou's apology, reject him, or to let him show you the man he's become, to learn with him what it means to love and forgive.)

TAGS: soulmate au, trope inversion/subversion, slow burn, getting together, falling in love, fluff, aged up characters, pro-hero characters, eventual smut, mild bullying

NAVIGATION: Series Masterlist

“And you haven’t heard from Bakugou?”

“I haven’t.” Kirishima wrings his hands as you nod and look away, trying to hide your expression. In other circumstances, the sight of such a big man—fiery red hair, sharp teeth, muscles and all—fretting in such a way would’ve been funny. Sweet. But as it is, your worry shadows everything.

The first couple of days after Bakugou falls off the grid, you’re a little annoyed. He couldn’t have spared a minute to reply before leaving? Or at least given you an estimate about when he’d be back? Given you a heads up at all?

But a couple days quickly turn into a week, and you begin to worry. Is this normal? Can you call his agency to ask? Or would that be inappropriate, you butting your head into hero business? 

You don’t know if you’re being irrational or if you’re being overbearing when you and Bakugou are just friends. Unrequited soulmates don’t count. You have no real claim to knowledge regarding his whereabouts, his movements. You’re just friends. 

But friends can worry about their friends. That’s totally normal. So you figure—it wouldn’t hurt to ask. Just one call.

“Hi Aiko. I was just wondering…” You hesitate. “You know how Bakugou—Dynamight is away on a mission right now? Would you happen to know when he’ll be back?”

“I’m sorry.” Even over the phone, her regret comes clear through. “I don’t have high enough clearance to know that info. And even if I did, it’s agency policy not to share that kind of information.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry,” you tell her, forcing a cheerful tone. You gnaw at your lip, feeling a little lost. What now?

“But I’m sure Red Riot would know!” she says, just as you make up your mind to say your goodbyes and hang up. “Would you like to schedule a meeting with him?”

You immediately perk up.

“Yes, please!” 

Kirishima touches your shoulder. He says, “I think Bakugou’s been instructed to go dark for this mission.”

You look up into his earnest eyes.

“None of our friends have heard from him either,” he tells you. 

“Oh.” The ball of anxiety that’s been sitting on your chest like a weight lightens just a little. So it’s not just you. 

But is that a bad thing? No one’s heard from him?

The weight returns. 

“Is it normal for him to take missions like this?” you ask. “You guys are used to it?”

Kirishima frowns, looking conflicted. “No… These longer missions are usually reconnaissance or stealth missions, and Bakugou’s quirk doesn’t really mix well with them. But there might be other reasons for him to go dark.”

“I see,” you say, gaze falling to the ground as frustration swells in you. 

You’re so clueless about the hero profession. You don’t know what’s normal, how you should be feeling. If the relative calm Kirishima’s exuding is something you should mimic or if the calm’s due to his familiarity with situations like this. And it’s your own fault. Because in the months you’ve spent learning Bakugou, you could’ve asked about all this. About what he does and what’s to be expected. But you didn’t. 

“Look, please don’t worry.” Kirishima ducks his head to look you in the eye. “Bakugou’s really, really good at what we do. He wouldn’t want you to stress over him being gone.”

“Right,” you say, summoning a weak smile. 

“I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything,” Kirishima promises.

“Thanks Kirishima,” you say. 

“Call me Kiri, if you’re comfortable with it!” he says, grinning. “And send me pics of Mikan and Natsu. Bakugou’s stingy about sharing them.” 

Laughing, you agree. 

You: I finally got Kirishima’s number! Remembered to ask him while stopping by the agency this morning 😌

You send a picture you’d taken—Kirishima grinning in the background with the smoothie you’d gotten him, and you throwing up a peace sign at the camera. 

Smiling a little, you imagine Bakugou’s reaction upon seeing the picture, seeing your message. He has no right calling you squirrely when he’s so weird about you being friendly with Kirishima. You’re not sure, but if you could hazard a guess, you think it’s because he’s uncomfortable with mixing friend groups. Which you can understand—sometimes it just doesn’t work, or it’s awkward to facilitate. But still. 

You admit that it’s fun getting reactions out of Bakugou, that sometimes you do things on purpose. You miss messing with him. 

Your messages finish sending, finally. But just like the other texts you’ve sent over the past few days, there’s no indication that they’ve been delivered. 

Your smile fades. 

“Hey, what’s up?”

Your head jerks up from your phone as you meet your friend’s eyes. Feeling strangely guilty, you set it down on the table in front of you as she settles back into her seat. 

Mitsuru raises an eyebrow at you. “You’ve been glued to that thing today. You expecting  to hear from someone?”

“Kind of,” you say, then make a face. “Or, I guess, not really. I’m not sure.” 

“The most convoluted answer,” she says, snorting. “Here, pick something from the dessert menu while I flag down that server. You can tell me what’s up with you while we eat.”

Sighing, you take the menu from her. 

Mitsuru’s sharp as a tack in general, but she’s also known you since middle school. It’s not often you wish you could hide things from her, but this time might be one of them. 

You haven’t told anyone about reconnecting with Bakugou. Not Mitsuru, or any of your other friends. You hadn’t even noticed you’d kept your friendship with Bakugou to yourself until recently. You’re not sure why. It’s not like you’re actively hiding it. It’s just… how it’s turned out. 

Okay, maybe you’ve been hiding it a little from Mitsuru specifically. But it’s because she knows him from your time at Aldera. She’d witnessed how mean he was to you, had gotten into verbal scuffles with him, defending you, until you’d asked her to stop.

So. You know that she doesn’t have a good impression of Bakugou. Even after all these years, when she sees ads or merch of him, she rolls her eyes. 

But you do want to talk to someone about it, about him, if only to get some objectivity about your worry. And Mitsuru, with her frank, realistic outlook on the world, is perfect for the job. 

So you tell her about it—an abbreviated, edited version of it. About this friend you’d gotten to know over the past couple months. The “business trip” he’d gone on with little notice and no heads up about when he’d be back. That’s you’re worried because you haven’t heard from him. 

Hiding details—that it’s Bakugou, that the trip is a hero mission—makes you shift in your seat, a stone in your stomach. But you’re scared of what Mitsuru would say. What she’d think if she knew. She’d only ever seen the cruel child he’d been. 

Mitsuru gives you a look when you finally fall silent. She plays with her nails, painted to look like glass, haloed like cat’s eyes, then lifts a hand to wrap a strand of black hair around her finger. 

“This friend of yours,” she says. “It’s Dynamight, isn’t it.” 

Your eyes widen. You choke on the water you’d been sipping. 

“What? Why would you—”

Mitsuru watches as you stumble over your words, mind racing as you try to figure out what to say. She sighs. 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to confirm anything if it’ll get you into trouble or something. But I’ve had my suspicions since I saw those promotional pics he took with those kittens. They’re the ones you’re fostering, right?”

Fuck. You should’ve thought of that. Mitsuru was the first to meet them, all those months ago.

“And then there was that noise on social media about Dynamight at that fancy pet store you were excited to try out a couple months back. Don’t think I wouldn’t recognize the back of your little head,” Mitsuru says, eyes narrowed at you. 

You stare at her for a long moment, scrambling for things to say to deny it. She’s cool, eyes steady.

You cover your face with a hand. 

“You can’t tell anyone,” you say, letting your hand fall, and she scoffs. 

“Who do you think I am,” she says. 

“You’re the only one I’ve told about him.” 

Mitsuru raises a brow. She crosses her arms over her chest. “I appreciate you confiding in me, I do, but… I remember that little shit did to you when we were in junior high. What the hell are you thinking?”

You wince. “I know how it sounds. But he really has changed, Mitsuru. He’s not that little kid anymore. That bully. People grow up.”

Mitsuru’s mouth remains downturned, eyes distrustful. 

“We really did meet months ago,” you say. “And within the first five minutes of conversation, he apologized. I wasn’t ready for it then, but… But since then, we’ve spent time together. Gotten to know each other. And he’s only ever been kind to me.” 

You find that your words catch in your throat, an unexpected wave of emotion flowing through you. Fiddling with your fingers, you say quietly, “We’re friends now.”

You raise your eyes to meet Mitsuru’s. 

Her expression has changed, softened a little. She reaches over and rubs your arm up and down briskly.

“Hey,” she says. “You don’t have to justify anything or feel any type of way about being friends with him given your history. I trust your judgement. I’m just worried, is all.”

“I get it,” you say. “He really was an asshole as a kid. But he’s a better person now. Promise.” 

You feel your words with a certainty you didn’t have months ago. The Bakugou you know, who cares deeply for his friends, who’s always honest, who admits his mistakes, who puts so much effort and care into his job, helping people, protecting people—he’s a good person. One of the best people in your life. 

Mitsuru leans back into her chair. She inhales deeply, exhales. She says, “Just one more thing. I… I know you say he’s your soulmate, that you can see his lights—”

Your breath catches. You know she doesn’t mean anything by it. But her doubt hurts. It echoes yours, feeds into an insecurity that’s only just tempered by the reassuring flicker of orange and gold when you see Bakugou.  

“—but I remember how unkind he was when he told you it’s not a mutual thing. I don’t know if you’ve already resolved that with him, but… I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“I know.” You tap your foot against hers under the table. “Thank you. Really. And we… haven’t talked about it yet. It hasn’t come up.” 

“Why not?”

You shrug, looking away. Prickles of discomfort race up and down your arms. You should talk about it. But. What if it changes things between you? 

Mitsuru studies you for a long moment, then sighs. “All right. All right. But as your friend, I reserve the right to yell at him the second he fucks up. Just letting you know.” 

You snort, tension releasing. “Yes, yes.”

“And you gotta introduce us. Re-introduce us.” 

“I will!” 

Mitsuru reaches over and pinches you in the arm. You whine.

She grins. “Okay, now tell me how the cats got tangled up in being promotional material for Super Explosion Guy blah blah blah. I can be nosy now that you’ve said something.”

You laugh. “His hero name is one of the funniest things about him, isn’t it? So it started because of that pet shop…”

Natsu, your sweet girl, is finally adopted. The paperwork is finalized, Bakugou’s PR people and the foster organization wrap up all loose ends, and you say goodbye. 

It’s quieter, once she’s gone. Lonelier. She was never a noisy cat, but she would always curl up in your lap whenever you’d read or watch something on the couch. Make biscuits on you when you’d drape a blanket over your legs. She was the cuddliest of the three. 

Mikan’s lost both his playmates, and you try to make up for it with extra play time and mental stimulation via things like treat puzzles. You’re glad you still have him. You don’t know what you’ll do when he leaves you too. He’s so big now. 

To distract yourself, you sign up for a cooking class. It’s just one lesson, two and a half hours. You want to feel out the chef instructor, the vibes of doing something like this, before investing in other packages where more lessons are offered over the course of several weeks. 

It’s surprisingly really fun. You’d gone in worried about your knife skills, about keeping up with the instructor. But you shouldn’t have because everyone is super nice and encouraging. The instructor is attentive, patient. And what you make ends up being surprisingly delicious. 

Mitsuru comes over for dinner the next night and you prepare it for her. It’s a hit. 

“How’s pilates been?” you ask, and Mitsuru groans, reclining further into the couch and patting her belly.

“A nightmare,” she says. “I didn’t think it’d be so tough. You’d think two decades of playing sports and generally being active would help. It does in some ways, but not really. You know, I got the shakes yesterday? We were doing an exercise on the reformer and my leg kept shaking, like I had no control over it. It was so embarrassing, jeez. I was at the front of the room, too.” 

You laugh, imagining it, then shake your head. “If you think it’s hard, there’s no hope for me.”

She turns her head to look at you, eyes brightening. “Are you interested? Forget everything I said. It’s amazing. Life-changing. So fun. Easy, even. Come join.” 

Laughing, you push her away as she smacks your leg in enthusiasm. 

“Have you tried pilates?” you ask Kirishima as he finishes taking a big sip of the smoothie you’d gotten him. He’s just wrapped up a workout, and you’re visiting on your lunch break. 

“No,” he says, tilting his head. “My friend Mina does classes at a studio, though, if you’re interested.” 

“I’m definitely not,” you say. You give him a quick rundown of the conversation you had with Mitsuru, adding, “It just got me thinking about maybe joining a gym or picking up something easy I can do consistently. When I moved to this neighborhood two years ago, I canceled my old membership because of the distance. But with how much I’m chained to my desk at work, I figure I should find a new gym.” 

“If you’re down, I can get you started with a couple workouts here at our agency’s gym until you find something you like,” Kirishima tells you. “I know some gyms in this area, so if you want, I’d be happy to help you look, too!” 

You smile up at him. 

“That’d be great, Kiri, thank you! You sure helping me with workouts won’t interfere with your schedule?” 

“We’ll work it out, don’t worry.” He grins at you, giving you a look as if to say, Did you catch that? Did you get it? 

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m going to ignore that. That’s terrible.” 

“Aww.” Kirishima ducks his head. 

You shake yours. “But really, thank you. For the gym stuff and just for being so nice in general.” 

“Well, we’re friends, aren’t we? Always happy to help a friend.” 

You smile. You open your mouth, then hesitate.

You like Kirishima, think you can become even better friends with time. Still, you’re conscious that you haven’t known him long. That the topics of your conversations have been everyday, casual ones.

But lately, certain heavier thoughts have been plaguing you. Despite keeping busy at work, indulging your interests, investing in your other relationships, you can’t stop thinking about Bakugou. It’s been two weeks now. 

Before, Bakugou being a pro hero meant that every once in a while you’d see him on the news if a villain altercation was serious enough to get covered. It meant seeing him in uniform on the streets during patrol, discreetly waving at him as you passed by on your way to and from work. 

Now it means struggling with not knowing where he is, when he’ll be back, if he’s safe. When you’ll see him again and if he’s okay.

How do heroes, especially ones who grow up together as classmates like those attending UA or Shiketsu, handle all these feelings? How do their—their friends, their families, and their partners manage the fear and uncertainty? 

You know you’re not doing a good job of it.

Looking up into Kirishima’s friendly face, those bright eyes and comforting smile, you take a little leap. 

“Can I ask you a question? A kind of serious one.” 

“Anything!” Kirishima says. He gestures for you to sit on a nearby bench, taking a seat next to you after you’re settled. 

“What’s up?” he asks. 

You take a deep breath and decide to just go for it. 

“How do you deal with it? The worry, the… all these terrible feelings when your friends are risking their lives fighting people or going off on these long missions?” You have to stop yourself there, worried that if you keep going, you won’t be able to stop; all of these feelings you’ve been grappling with will just come rushing out. 

Kirishima’s gaze softens, understanding. His mouth sets into a thoughtful line as he considers your question. 

“It never stops being tough,” he says slowly. “Simple patrols can turn into fights, or chases, or rescues all the time. Other heroes with more specialized quirks and jobs can be put into even more danger than us regular heroes, depending. I went to school with people who told us the risks, and we faced them. Even earlier than we should’ve.”  

For a moment, the planes of his face fall into a weariness, a seriousness you’d never seen on him before. That lovely light in his eyes dims, just a little. 

He meets your gaze. “And we still stayed on with the job. For lots of us, helping people, keeping people safe, it’s worth all of it. But for our family, partners, who’re civilians, it’s hard.” 

“So it never gets easy? You just have to live with it?” you ask quietly, that burden settling heavy in your heart.

“I don’t know about easy. But. For me, uh. I don’t know if this’ll be helpful at all, but, um, I try to stay in the present. I used to always be thinking about what ifs or things that hadn’t happened—yet, I thought, and worked myself up. Still do sometimes. But one of my former teachers told me that that’s no way to live your life. Miss out on so much doing that.”

You can relate.

Kirishima tilts his head, thinking for a moment. 

“Oh! And of course there are, like, mental health professionals and support groups I can connect you to. If you want! Lots of heroes see someone regularly, and so do their family members or partners,” he says. 

“I’d like that,” you tell him. 

He smiles at you, reaches out to pat your hand. “Talking about it helps. Having community helps me most, personally. Friends who have my back, family who care. So. If you need someone. I’m always here, okay? I got you.”

An open hand, so readily offered. 

A little lump rises in your throat. These people you’ve met—Bakugou, Kiri, Pulsar, Shieldmaiden—really are heroes. They’re such good people. 

“Thanks, Kiri,” you say with a wobbly smile. 

The days continue to pass, and you try to stay balanced, focused. Some days you succeed, and others you don’t. 

A new restaurant near your work opens up, specializing in your favorite cuisine, and you and a coworker head out to try it. 

You’re waiting for the light to change for the crossing, chatting with your coworker, when a flicker of orange catches your eye. 

You raise your head, your coworker’s voice receding into the background as you slowly scan the streets for what’d caught your attention. 

There. That orange and gold is unmistakable. Your breath catches. 

“Bakugou,” you say, and—his name feels like it’s ripped out of you, a compulsion. The vowels and consonants are lost to the bustle of city life, but his name remains, a question on your tongue. 

You nearly start forward, stepping into the street, before remembering yourself. It’s so hard to resist the urge to run after him, cars be damned, what your coworker would think be damned. But you hold yourself still, tense. Eyes locked on the man walking further and further away from you.

It’s him, right? If he wasn’t wearing a hoodie, you’d be able to tell for sure by his hair, his build. But the hoodie obscures the lines of his body. This far away, you can no longer make out any flashes of orange and gold.

The wait for this pedestrian crossing is so fucking long. You’re going to file a complaint to—to someone, to whomever is in charge of this shit. Fuck. 

Biting your lip, you watch as his figure disappears around the corner. 

“What’d you say?” your coworker asks, jostling you. 

You blink, feeling a little out of body, dazed. Your coworker peers into your face, concerned. 

“You good?” 

“I—yeah. I’m fine.” Forget about lunch. You need to check your phone. 

But before you can do so, your coworker grabs your elbow, propelling you forward. “Hey, the light’s changing, c’mon.”

Maybe you imagined it. Maybe it wasn’t him. 

The second you got the chance, you checked your phone. But there were no messages from Bakugou waiting for you, none from Kiri. Just a couple from Mitsuru, one from your mom, another from a coworker asking you to pick something up from the restaurant for them. 

Maybe you’re losing it.

You sigh, stroking down the length of Mikan’s back, eyes watching but not perceiving the show you’d put on. 

He’d text you if he were back in town, right? Kiri would give you a heads up. So it was your wishful thinking earlier, your imagination. 

You miss him. It’s been almost three weeks. You’ve thought about reaching out to the groups Kiri recommended to you, but you always chicken out at the last minute, phone in hand, number undialed. 

Kiri’d said that heroes’ family or partners go to these things. He hadn’t mentioned friends. Would it be weird to show up just as a hero’s friend? Would telling them he’s your soulmate help justify it? 

But no, because. What would you even say? Hi, I’m a hero’s friend. Yeah, just friends. Well, no, technically he’s also my soulmate. What do I mean by technically? Well, he’s mine but I’m not his. So yeah. 

Even the thought of admitting that to strangers makes you nauseous. 

And what if you slip and say his name? You don’t want people to know you’re talking about Bakugou. You’re not sure you’re allowed to say he’s on a mission. You’re still not sure you want people outside your personal lives aware that you know each other, are friends. 

You pick Mikan up, lifting him to eye level, and bury your face in his side. That nice cat smell envelops you for a nice moment. 

He squirms out of your grip, jumping to the floor. Giving you a look, he begins washing his fur with his tongue. 

You slump into the couch, defeated.

Bright and early, the next morning finds you at the agency in workout clothes. 

All night, you’d tossed and turned, mind busy. You’d fallen into a fitful sleep around 2 AM, only to wake up again around 5 AM. At that point, you gave up and decided that maybe if you tired your body out, your mind would shut up and let you rest. At the very least, you’re grateful it’s a Saturday and you don’t have to come in to work. 

Flashing a quick smile and wave to the front desk, you use your access card to head up to the gym. The halls are quiet, and the few people using the gym are people you don’t know. 

You slip on some headphones and get to work. 

Truthfully, you shouldn’t be mooching off Kiri’s—and Bakugou’s—generosity. But you’ve really enjoyed the workouts you’ve had with Kiri this past week. He designed a workout routine for you and demonstrated the exercises you’ve been doing. He’s encouraging, and he knows just how far to push you. He really has a way with people. It’s made you less motivated to seek out your own gym. You’ve been spoiled. 

You’ll look into the gyms Kiri recommended later today, you resolve. After a nap. The workout’s done its job. You clean up the machine you’d been using and head out. 

You’re mid-yawn, eyes squinted and watering, so you don’t catch that someone’s trying to enter the gym at the same time as you’re exiting until it’s too late. 

“Oh, sorry,” you say, quickly wiping at your eyes, embarrassed. When they’re clear, you look up, then freeze. 

“Bakugou!” 

Bakugou grunts. Says your name in greeting. His eyes quickly scan you up and down before coming to rest on your face. 

You’re warm, very aware that you’re still a little sweaty. You hope you don’t smell. You want to hug him so badly, but you’re too nervous. You’re self-conscious, shy. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. 

He looks tired, eyes weary. His hair’s grown out a little, longer than you’re used to seeing on him. A bandage rests right below his scar, stark against his skin. 

The little details don’t matter. You’re so happy to see him. You’re smiling, not realizing it. 

When Bakugou doesn’t say anything more, you ask, “When did you get back?”

He hesitates for a second, looks at the wall next to you, then back at you. 

“A couple days ago,” he says shortly. 

You pause. 

“A couple days ago?” you repeat. A feeling you can’t quite name begins to creep up the back of your neck. It’s not a nice feeling. “Oh. Did you, I mean, were there a lot of post-mission things you needed to do?”

“Yeah. A bunch of annoying bullshit.” 

You make a sympathetic sound. There, you tell yourself silently. He had reasons for not giving you a heads up that he’s been back. The world doesn’t revolve around you. 

“What’re you doing here?” he asks. 

The gym’s doors open behind you as someone exits, and Bakugou puts a hand on the small of your back, pulling you to the side and out of the way. 

His hand on your back, even through your clothes, is warm. 

It takes you a second to reply. “Kiri said it’d be okay if I use the agency’s gyms until I find my own. I hope that’s okay.”

“S’fine,” he says. 

His hand’s still on your back. He’s standing so close to you, just looking at you. At your face, darting down your body, as if committing you to memory. As if it’s something you won’t notice. You don’t mind at all. You can’t take your eyes off him either. 

But—

“I—sorry, I gotta ask, it’s bothering me,” you say. “I hear that you’ve been busy, but. A quick, ‘Hey I’m back, I’m fine’ message would’ve been appreciated, y’know? If you were allowed. Was it that you weren’t allowed to tell non-heroes that you’re back?”

Bakugou’s hand falls away from you. He exhales deeply and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“No. Just didn’t have time to talk to you.”

Something sharp and unpleasant rises as a slow wave in you. You remind yourself that busy is busy, and some things aren’t in his control. 

But—it’s been days. If it really was him you saw the other day, out in the city, it’s been at least four days. And it looks like he was heading into the gym before you bumped into him.

Frowning, you shift your gym bag to your other hand, bowing your head. “Bakugou. You were gone a long time, and I had no idea what was happening with you. I feel like you could’ve shot me a quick message.”

“I told you I was gonna be on a mission,” he says, furrowing his brows. 

“Yeah, but you didn’t say when you’d be back, or if it’d be dangerous, or anything except just that,” you say, voice rising a little at the end. 

Inhaling deeply, you force yourself to breathe, speak normally. “Neither Kiri nor the agency could tell me anything. It sucked, Bakugou. I just wanna know what’s going on.” 

Bakugou scowls. 

“Look, I told you I’ve been busy,” he says. “I just got back, give me a fucking second. And I can’t always tell you shit just because it’s inconvenient for you not to know.”

The gym doors open once more, another person leaving, and you become hyper aware that you’re having this conversation in public. Suddenly, you don’t want to be having this conversation anymore. 

“You’re right,” you say evenly. “Sorry for overstepping. I’ll let you get to your workout.”

You move to get past him, and he steps in front of you. You stop just short of touching, your hands tightening into fists. The strap of your bag digs into the meat of your hand.

“Fuck,” Bakugou says. “You’re not getting it. Stop taking shit personally. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

You look at him. Shaking your head, you say, “You know what? I’m done here. Bye.”

“We’re not done with shit,” Bakugou says.

“Well I’m done, so back off.”

“Not until—”

“Look, Bakugou,” you say, voice trembling. Shit. You don’t want him to think you’re crying, because you’re not. You’re just so mad. “I’m really fucking upset right now. And the shit you’re saying’s just making things worse. Let’s table this. Let me go.”

He stares at you for a long moment. You stare back at him defiantly. 

“Fine,” he growls.

“Great,” you say. 

You turn on your heel and leave.

Your mind is empty the entire train ride home. 

Distantly, you recognize that your back and neck ache from the tension you’re carrying, but it’s impossible to relax. You feel a little separate from your body, like you’re watching yourself move through the actions of getting off at your stop and walking back to your apartment. 

Once you’re home, you throw yourself into a hot shower, hoping to jar yourself out of the mood you’re in. But even after it, you’re still tense, still aching. 

You try to take a nap. But your body only remembers conflict; the normally satisfying ache and tiredness post-workout is nowhere to be found. You’re wide awake. 

The anger rears its head once more. Why doesn’t he get it? That you were worried, that you wanted him to communicate as much as he could, as soon as he could. 

You understand that he can’t tell you certain things because of the nature of his work. You just want him to think of you, of how you’d feel, of how you felt. 

Then it’s like a switch flipping, and you’re just. Sad. What a dumb thing to argue over. Such a small thing. Did you overreact? Did you mess things up because you’re overthinking things?

But how would he feel, if you did the same thing to him? Just—fucked off to some place without telling him where or when you’d be back? And when you did get back, not let him know until it’s been days? 

Maybe he wouldn’t care. Maybe it’s that you care too much, too much to be right for the relationship you have with him. 

Sleep finds you, eventually. You’re grateful.

Author's Note: And... I'm terrible! Awful! First I left ya'll with a cliffhanger with chapter 10, and now I show up nearly a year later with this angsty chapter... Feel free to yell at me in the replies, I deserve it. 😔

But thank you to all of you who've liked, reblogged, and commented on chapters of this fic since last update! And sent in asks wondering if I'm ever going to update again!! LOL! Knowing that people are still reading and care to know the end of Bakugou and Reader's story motivates me to keep writing. 💖

I do have about 2K of chapter 12 written... Hoping to post that soon, and not after a year has passed lmao. 😅

Alrighty, take care everyone! Hugs and kisses!!!

[sukiyurii]

she wants me

(sevika x fem!reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns for reader, praise, fingering, cunnilingus, softdom!sevika, sub!reader, bottom!reader, exhibitionism? not beta/proof read!) men, minors dni

your painfully annoying ex-boyfriend shows up to cause problems. sevika shows him exactly what he lost.

Your ex was persistent. Like… persistent– to the point of it being utterly overbearing. Your shabby apartment was no longer a safe place to stay at, as he would randomly show up at any and all odd hours he could find. Thus, one of your closest friends, Sevika, has offered you temporary relief in her own home.

Your friendship began almost three years ago when you began serving at The Last Drop, her attention was immediately drawn to how disgustingly nice you were. While she brushed off your kind words and attempts at friendship initially, she grew fond of you over time.

Presently, It’s been almost two months since you and your ex-boyfriend broke up. The man was absolutely obsessed with you. He was a manipulative, ugly, greedy little sump-rat who refused to leave you alone. While Sevika had no issues with putting him into the ground for his constant awful behavior, you and your tender heart continued to tell her off. 

In an attempt to pull you out of your own festering anxieties, Sevika drags you out to The Last Drop, trying to brighten your mood from the traumatic relationship. 

Now, you’re sitting next to her as she deals out the stack of playing cards to the men at the circular table. You’re dressed in some torn tights, small shorts, a cropped vest with a tattered t-shirt beneath it, accompanied by chunky boots. One leg is crossed over the other as you silently nurse your drink, peeking over at Sevika’s cards. You had never been someone who enjoys cards much, and playing against Sevika would’ve been a losing game anyway. 

There are never really any good nights in Zaun, there’s always the underlying anxiety of ‘maybe today is the day we all get raided and killed.’ So, tonight is going just about as well as it could, realistically. Sevika is winning (as per usual) and you feel slightly at peace, grateful for the fact that she had drawn you out of your blanket-filled cocoon inside of her house. 

Another deck is shuffled out, more shots are thrown back, and you finally feel a little less tense. Not drunk– it was never something you particularly enjoyed, but it was enough for you to drop your shoulders from your ears and slump back against the booth. 

“My little good luck charm, hm?” She mumbles, smirking at you as she rifles through the coins that were begrudgingly slid over to her. You roll your eyes playfully in retaliation, smiling softly and finishing off the last little bit of your drink.

She leans down to press her full lips to your neck, grinning as you gasp. She keeps her strong arm around you as she places a few more chaste kisses, finalizing her ministrations with a sharp nip to the edge of your jaw. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she murmurs, pressing another kiss to the top of your head.

You move your eyes from her, to the table, and then to the crowd, absorbing the scene of Zaun’s nightlife growing. In the group of bodies dancing and bustling you spot the very last thing you wanted to see: Your ex-boyfriend. Staring directly at you. 

“Sev,” you gasp quietly, which immediately snatches her attention. She looks at you first, then follows your gaze over to the crowd– immediately landing on him. Her face twists into a deep snarl as she catches his gaze.

She slams her cards down and abruptly stands up, “Everyone, out!” she growls. In return, several patrons immediately scurry out, and the rest sit in fear. “I said go, now!” she adds, which eventually forces the rest of them out. 

Quick minutes pass by and you’re left stuck in the bar with Sevika and your ex. “Sevika, can we please just leave,” you huff out, standing up next to her. 

“Sit your ass back down,” she hisses, pushing your shoulder gently. Rather than arguing with her as you normally would, you concede this time. You huff out annoyedly before plopping back down, knocking your boot against the base of the table.

She steps over you, placing a large hand on the back of your head as she does so— a fleeting, comforting touch. “Sev, seriously,” you repeat irritably, reaching for the tail of her cloak. She swats your hand away before silently moving forward, slowly treading towards the man in the center of the room. 

“What do you want?” She snaps, crossing her arms over her chest as she stops in front of him. She stands over him, forcing him to crane his head up if he wants a half decent look at her.

Puffing his chest out, he responds with a short, “I just wanna talk to her,” and nods towards you. Irritation flares in your chest at his words and Sevika scoffs bitterly. “She doesn’t wanna talk. You dense?” she mocks back, sending you a brief glance.

“I think we should just go,” you say, attempting to dismiss the situation before it gets out of hand. She raises a hand at you, a silent gesture to stop talking before you make her mood even worse. 

You quickly snap your jaw shut, huffing in defeat as she reverts her attention back to the fuming man less than fifteen from you. The very same man who nearly ruined your life for two, excruciatingly long years. You clench your jaw and train your gaze on the seemingly very interesting scotch glass in front of you.

You drum your nails against the table anxiously, overhearing a “fuck you, she’s a stupid sleazy whore anyway,” from the skrunkly-faced man. This causes her to seethe, and you barely register the movement before her metal claws are wrapped tightly around his throat.

“She’s a what?” She questions nastily, pulling him in. “She’s nothing but a piece of ass,” he tacks on, attempting to keep up the tough bravado he is rapidly losing. As her grip tightens, he attempts to stammer out an apology but all she does is shake her head and pout mockingly at him.

The words settle harshly in your chest, causing you to shift in the booth uncomfortably. 

She flings his body to the ground, stepping on his back to keep his body pressed into hard flooring. She crouches down unevenly and leans in next to his ear, “you’re better off keeping your mouth shut for the rest of the night.” She hisses, lifting her foot off of him.

And the poor, unbelievably stupid man opens his mouth again. “I’m surprised you still keep her around. She’s grown boring— dry.” He spits out venomously.

You snap your head over towards them, feeling the shame morph into a different form of anger. You watch Sevika narrow her eyes at him before she scoffs bitterly and raises her foot up again. This time, her foot meets his jaw, and you hear a crack, and the yelp he lets out.

She straightens herself back up and rolls out her neck and shoulders, smirking down at his tattered form. She turns back towards your startled and half-ass trembling form, and her face softens into something more tender. 

The man attempts to push himself back up, but she quickly turns around and swipes his hands from beneath him, causing him to crash back into the ground.

“Stay the fuck down.” She says, punctuating her sentence with another jab to his ribs. He shakes beneath her cruel eyes, giving her a sheepish nod.

You really shouldn’t feel the familiar heat pool between your legs while you watch her, but it’s so hard when she just looks so fucking good. All big muscles, broad shoulders, scarred and tanned skin. She’s like a walking goddess— one you would dutifully worship if given the chance to.

She walks back towards you and reaches over to grab the still half-full glass of hers on the table. She knocks it back quickly and clears her throat after, finally looking back down at you.

“You okay, baby?” She inquires sweetly, tilting your chin up with the side of her index finger. 

You nod in response, still shocked into silence as you watched the scene unfold.

“You don’t believe him, do you?” She asks you, stroking her thumb over the bridge of your nose, and then over your cheekbone. You look away shamefully, knowing that you shouldn’t, but you can’t help the guilty pit that forms in your stomach.

“Oh, pretty girl— you truly don’t see how wrong he is?” She asks, giving you a sympathetic look.

“No, I— it’s not that,” you attempt to stammer out, but it’s hard when she’s looking down at you, almost predatorily. 

She picks up on your growing arousal— the flushed skin and barely dampened hairline. “Would you stand up for me, sweet thing?” She requests, tugging on the collar of your shirt gently. 

You nod immediately and stand up at her request, wrapping your fingers around her fleshed forearm. She guides you out of the seat of the booth and stops you in front of her.

You can see him writhing in pain, occasionally groaning, but he is far too scared to attempt to actually get up. 

“You know, I do remember the little imbecile calling you boring and dry. But something is telling me that his claim is very wrong.” She states, dragging her thumb over your bottom lip as she licks over her own.

“I think that the sump-rat just doesn’t know how to take care of a girl properly,” she says, staring him down as she slides her fleshy hand from your jaw, down to the collar of your shirt again.

“It's such a shame too, y’know? He had such a beautiful little thing to cherish, touch… all of it. Couldn’t even manage to do that, huh?” She coos, trailing her metal claws up the back of your thigh, feeling it snag against your tights. 

You gasp as she purposefully drags her hand up, effectively tearing them. “Sevika—” you stutter, but you’re quickly cut off as her thick lips press against yours. 

“Mmpf—” you moan, eyes widening in shock. Once you adjust to the feeling, you close your eyes and  grip onto her biceps firmly, rolling your hips into hers.

She nips roughly at your bottom lip, skating her hand up to grab a handful of your ass as she walks the both of you backwards. You make a confused noise but follow her regardless, making sweet little noises against her hot mouth. 

You whimper as she turns you over and presses your chest onto the hardwood table, giving him a perfect view of both of you.

“What—” you make a confused sound, but the question is answered when her hands begin to work on the buckle of your studded belt. She leans forward and you feel as her breasts press into your back, “This okay?” She asks, stilling her hands on your hips as she waits for a response.

You nod eagerly, bracing yourself up on your forearms. “Yeah, I’m good,” you reply, taking a second to catch your breath. 

“Yeah, you feelin’ good?” she teases, pressing her lips to your neck roughly. She suckles harshly on your skin before nipping at it, sliding one of her hands beneath the waistband of your shorts. 

She teases her fingers over your clit teasingly, rubbing circles over the bundle of nerves. Your mouth drops open as you moan, grateful as you’re finally able to get some relief.

“Yeah, that’s it. Make those pretty little sounds for me,” she demands from over your shoulder, sinking her teeth into the side of your neck. The action forces you to cry out and grind yourself against her hand. 

Your attention is caught by your ex-boyfriend, still battered and bruised on the ground. He growls and spits out a protest as he watches the debauchery play out.

“Did he ever make you feel like this?” She asks, pulling her hand away from your clit so that she can shove your shorts down to your mid-thigh. 

“Answer me, baby,” she says lowly, giving you a light spank to your ass. “No, no, he didn’t,” you stammer out, gasping as you feel her metal claws dig into the meat of your ass.

“That’s right, isn’t it? But here you are, all soaked through your tights and panties.” She murmurs, moving both hands to the center of the sheen fabric. 

“I really hope you don’t like these,” she comments. And before you can protest— she tears the fabric apart, causing you to gasp and shiver simultaneously. 

Her fingers hook into the side of your panties as she yanks those down as well, rolling all of the fabric to your thighs. “Well aren’t you pretty,” she says, sliding her fingers through your folds again. You flush in embarrassment as she practically devours you with her eyes. 

“Oh, fuck— Sevika,” you whimper, clawing at the edge of the table. “This all for me?” She asks smugly, rubbing her fingers against your sensitive bud again. 

“Mhm– ahh,” you moan loudly, trying to gain more friction against her hand.

She slides a thick finger into you, grinning wolfishly as you release a wanton whine. She curls her fingers, slowly pushing them in and out of you. Her fingertips brush against the overly-sensitive and gummy walls inside of you. You nearly choke on your own voice as it feels like a live-wire is shooting through you.

“You had all of this ass and a sweet pussy to play with. But you wanted to act like a selfish, bigoted little rat and lose it all, didn’t you?” She mocks him, narrowing her eyes at him as her fingers work inside of you. 

It’s painful for him, honestly. To watch one of the most beautiful women to ever grace Zaun’s presence get laid out by her best friend over a table. It’s humiliating for him, but exhilarating for the both of you.

"Isn't she pretty?" She asks, gently raking her claws through your hair.

"Tell her she's pretty." She commands, sneering at him as he stutters.

"Yes, she's— she's pretty," he stutters, averting his gaze back to the floor.

You finally get your revenge, and she finally gets to do the things she has spent the past few years dreaming about. 

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my fingers, c’mon, doll," she mumbles, sliding a second finger into you. Her mechanical hand presses into your lower back as she presses her fingers into you faster– harder. 

You moan and writhe against the table, doing exactly as she says. The wet sounds coming from between your soft thighs are unfamiliar, something you have so rarely experienced. (Much less from anyone else.)

“F-Fuck, fuck, Sevika,” you cry out, throwing your ass back against her large hand. She licks over her bottom lip as she watches you hungrily. She kicks your legs apart, pushing her fingers further inside of you. 

“She ever sound like this for you?” She sneers at him, chuckling darkly at the scowl that etches onto his face.

She pulls her fingers out of you and murmurs soft apologies at your incessant whining. “One second, sweet girl,” she says, slowly lowering herself onto her knees. 

She kisses along your ass cheeks and the backs of your thighs on her way down, wrapping her hands around the fronts of your thighs. She pulls you back onto her warm, eager mouth and moans once she gets her tongue on you. 

She laps at you feverishly, digging her nails into your thighs as she holds you against her firmly. With your back arched and cheeked smushed against the table, you become the spitting image of arousal and lust.

She wraps her thick lips around your clit and sucks harshly, determined to bring you over the edge with her mouth. 

Her moans vibrate against you and heighten the already intense pleasure. “Mmf— I’m gonna, ha,” you gasp. You feel her nod against you, a silent encouragement. 

You nearly scream out in pleasure as your vision blanks out and a white heat surges from between your legs, and up your body. Quiet sobs wrack through you as the orgasm washes over you, wave after wave, and your thighs begin to tremble. 

You reach back with a weak hand to push her away from you, continuing to suck in shaky breaths.

“‘Vika, please,” you beg, and she finally lets up. She presses a final sloppy kiss to your pussy and then back up your thighs.

She wraps an arm around your front and hauls you back, holding you against her. With you almost all the way up, she tilts your head towards her with her tanned hand and presses a wet kiss to your mouth. 

Her metal arm holds you up as she gently pries your mouth open with her tongue, shoving your slick into your mouth. You moan at the taste and the feeling, reaching back to tangle your fingers through her hair. 

She pulls away and looks back at him, “I hope you learned something from this. Now get the fuck out,” she snaps meanly, keeping your face in place. 

The trembling man scrambles up and ushers out of the bar, leaving the two of you in a long-awaited peace.

“You feeling alright?” she asks, gently thumbing over one of your nipples. You nod tiredly, “yeah, ‘m okay,” you mumble, biting your bottom lip softly. 

“Good, because you’re not sleeping tonight,” she replies, pressing another firm kiss to your lips.

tag list: @gracie-gloom @aurora-basin @abby-anderson-wifey @arcanestanmelvika @demonslayerfansstuff @mingitheii @helaenabugmom @wh1msyk1tten @happysmappy @lavender248 @clownesquekitten @iwillpokeyouwithmyknife @sevikas-whore @sevikasrightboob @therapyneeds @angelcorner @ghutzz4gutz @theflyingforklift @megamultifandomtrashposts @willow-nox @ugly-melon @goblin-creatcher @sevikas-baby @littlerebels @athena-winters13 @danityrell @heavenlyraindrops @eclipcee8 @depressedqueersocialists @thehotsweetie @trainboom @sapphicslearninglair @femininefables @sophhic

[kxsagi]

hey! can I request platonic bllk character x reader (any character/s you think works for this) who sees them as an older brother figure?

reader used to be close to her actual older bro, but their relationship has been quite cold & hostile for the past few years.

I kinda need this because I just met my brother yesterday after almost a year, & we already got into a fight 😭, I had to walk out of the house for it to end. he threw an open box cutter at me, idk whether it was intentional or not tho.

“𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞”

a/n: i’m sorry, he threw WHAT at you??? nah he’s going into the basement 

i'm so sorry to hear that your relationship with your brother is like that, but you deserve people in your life who reciprocate your love and good energy. even if they're family or blood-related, don't be afraid to cut them off if you feel it's necessary for you and your mental health <3

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, mikage reo, bachira meguru, karasu tabito, itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, kaiser michael, ness alexis

isagi yoichi

isagi becomes your “big bro” purely by accident. it starts with him walking you home after practice because it’s dark and “you shouldn’t be walking alone.” then he starts nagging you about hydration and warming up properly. 

you don’t tell him about your brother at first, but he picks up on how your voice goes tight whenever family’s brought up. one day, he hears you on the phone with your brother. short. curt. cold. and when you hang up, you look like you’ve aged ten years. 

“i’m not trying to pry,” he says, “but if you ever need someone to talk to or yell at or play mario kart with, i got you.” 

cue late night gaming sessions with convenience store snacks. he’s bad at comforting with words, but he’ll let you win rounds and then act shocked like “damn. how are you so cracked?” just to make you laugh. 

he never pushes. just shows up consistently. like a real older brother should’ve. 

itoshi rin

you? voluntarily clinging to rin of all people? it shocks him, too. 

but there's something steady about him. quiet, mature, not overbearing. you start trailing after him like a lost duckling. at first, he acts annoyed. but then one day someone bumps into you too hard in the hallway, and he straight up glares like he's about to throw hands. 

“you good?” he mutters, almost gruffly. 

you nod. and for the first time in years, you feel… protected. 

he never asks about your family, but when you call him “nii-san” as a joke, he doesn’t correct you. doesn’t say a word. but his ears go a little red. 

will silently share his umbrella with you when it rains. won’t say, “i care about you,” but if you’re missing for longer than ten minutes, he’s already searching. 

mikage reo

reo figures it out pretty quick. you flinch whenever he mentions siblings, and you change the topic fast. 

“you know,” he says one day while handing you a matcha latte, “i always wanted a little sister. someone to spoil.” 

and boy, does he mean it. he’s the “bought you this top because it looked cute and reminded me of you” kind of brother figure. wants to take you shopping. lets you sit on the counter while he cooks and talks your ear off. 

he’s also lowkey protective in a petty rich boy way. sees you texting someone and goes “who’s that? do i need to hire a personal investigator?” 

when you finally break down and talk about your real brother, reo listens. doesn’t interrupt. doesn’t tell you to forgive or forget. just goes, “he messed up. but you deserve people who don’t.” 

and then forces you to binge rom-coms and do face masks. 

bachira meguru

bachira’s warmth is something you didn't know you missed. he grabs your wrist and pulls you into situations like you're just meant to be there. 

he starts calling you “imouto-chan” (little sister) before you even tell him about your real brother. “it suits you,” he beams. 

he notices you get a bit quiet when people talk about siblings, though. one day, while you're doodling, he casually asks, “did you and your big bro used to draw together?” 

you nod. then go silent. he doesn’t push. instead, he starts handing you little paper cranes or doodles every day. “made this for you!” 

he gives the kind of love that asks for nothing back. and for someone who's been treated like an afterthought, that means everything. 

also, he’ll 100% bite anyone who makes you cry. just say the word. 

karasu tabito

at first, you thought karasu was just some cocky older guy who’d tease you endlessly, but you soon realize that behind the sarcasm is someone scarily perceptive. 

he notices you never bring up your brother, even though you talk about childhood memories a lot. 

“damn,” he says one day while tossing you a drink, “you got some repressed sibling drama, huh?” you blink. “how’d you–” “you do that thing. y’know, where you get all smiley talking about the past and then your face drops like someone punched you in the gut.” 

he says it so casually, but then follows up with a quiet, “if you ever want to talk about it, i can shut up and listen. i’m not just a pretty face, you know.” 

teasing older brother energy to the max. sends you cursed memes at 1 AM. calls you “kid” and “shrimp.” but if anyone else talks down to you? he goes full attack dog mode. 

“only i get to annoy her. get in line.” 

itoshi sae

you’d never guess sae would take on the big brother role. he doesn’t even seem to like people. 

but there’s something in the way he keeps showing up for you. like when he drives you home after you missed the last train. or when he slips you his jacket without a word. 

he never asks about your family, but he sees the way your eyes darken around the subject. and maybe, just maybe, he gets it. 

“you don’t owe anyone your love just because they’re family,” he says one night, voice low. it hits you like a slap. 

and it means more coming from him. someone who walked away from his own brother once. someone who understands estrangement not as a failure, but as survival. 

he’s not expressive, but he shows up. every time. and when he sees your hands shake during that one phone call with your brother, he quietly takes your phone and hangs up. 

“don’t let people who hurt you talk like they still have a right to.” 

from then on, he checks in more. sends dry texts like “did you eat.” or “bring a jacket. it’s cold.” 

the warmth is quiet, but it’s real. like a big brother who doesn't need to say “i care” for you to know it. 

shidou ryusei

the last person you expected to have older brother energy… and yet here we are. 

it starts with him teasing you for being a “baby” anytime you trip or yawn. “damn, do you need a stroller too?” 

but the moment someone talks down to you or you get upset? shidou’s feral. straight up throws his arm around your shoulder like “you got beef with my lil sis? 'cause i got time.” 

he pretends to be the worst role model ever – egging you on to do dumb stuff like throw grapes at people from the balcony – but will stop you from actually doing it at the last second. 

one time, you tell him you don’t really talk to your real brother anymore. he goes quiet for once. then shrugs. 

“his loss. you’re the only brat i’d tolerate yelling at me for finishing their fries.” 

shidou’s brand of care is chaotic protection. he’ll make you laugh until you cry, then beat up your sadness like it owes him money. 

nagi seishiro

nagi becomes your older brother figure completely by accident. it starts when you fall asleep on the couch next to him during a team meeting and he just… lets you. 

after that, it’s like you’re his little nap buddy. he starts dragging you into his lazy rituals. gaming, ramen, watching dumb videos on his phone while lying on the floor like sea creatures. 

you vent to him once about how you and your brother used to do that too, but now he barely speaks to you. nagi just stares at you for a second and goes, “that sucks.” 

then, a beat later, “guess you can do it with me instead.” 

from then on, if you’re ever feeling down, he’ll appear with a controller and snacks and go, “c’mon. let’s not think.” 

he’s the chill older brother who doesn’t ask many questions, but always gives you the space to just exist. and that’s sometimes even more comforting than words. 

kaiser michael

you are his self-proclaimed “baby gremlin,” and no, you don’t get a say in the nickname. 

at first, you thought he was too arrogant and loud to ever take anyone seriously. he also really struggled with his relationships due to past traumas. but when he noticed you spacing out during dinner, picking at your food, he actually... toned it down? 

“yo. what’s going on in that sad little head of yours?” 

when you finally mention your older brother and how cold things have gotten, he pauses mid-chew and just says, “older brothers suck. upgrade to a kaiser michael. zero emotional baggage, full sass package.” 

you roll your eyes, but the next day he shows up with a designer dress in your size like, “you didn’t ask for this, but i’m your brother now. suffer.” 

he overcompensates with sarcasm and expensive gifts. but underneath all that bravado is someone who genuinely wants to protect you from every ounce of rejection you’ve been through. 

“he may be blood, but i choose you. and i don’t choose easy, y'know?” 

ness alexis

ness is the kind of brother figure who is soft, thoughtful, and weirdly good at remembering little things. 

he sees you getting quiet one day after practice when someone talks about their sibling and casually offers you his water bottle. 

“you okay?” 

when you confess that your brother and you used to be close but now barely speak, ness goes: “so that’s why you give me those ‘i wish i could punch feelings’ eyes when people talk about family.” 

after that, he just kind of adopts you. he braids your hair during team travel, shares his spotify playlist with you (“sad girl certified”), and gives you the emotional validation you didn’t know you needed. 

if someone makes you cry, he’s the kind to drag kaiser with him like, “come on, we’re going to war.” 

he’ll randomly text you affirmations like “you deserve love, a full fridge, and someone who answers your texts within three minutes.” 

his protective older brother energy is underrated, but it runs deep. he won’t let you feel abandoned again, not on his watch. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[synity]

Just read ur fic "Don’t Tell My Brother" and the part where cheol said "i used to carry on my back to school" stuck me cause that's so when life gives you tangerines core. Love love love that fic!

wondering if u can write smth related to that? More on cheol and his sis' dynamics + snippets of dk & s/o's relationship ❤️❤️

WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU TANGERINES

(Big brother!Choi Seungcheol x FemReader)

*family drama / coming-of-age / soft romance, nostalgia, protection, and growth*

The sun hit the sidewalk just right that morning, the exact way it used to on the walk to elementary school when Seungcheol had your pink backpack slung over his shoulders and your tiny hand in his. That memory, like most childhood ones, was a little faded, a little warmer than reality, but it returned full-force as you watched him park his car outside your new apartment.

He came out wearing a black hoodie and sunglasses like a celebrity on his day off. Still protective. Still annoying.

“You sure this is the safest street?” he asked, surveying the neighborhood like a secret service agent.

You sighed, dragging a suitcase to the curb. “I live ten minutes from my university. This is not a war zone, Cheol.”

“You never know.”

Still the same. Overbearing, big-brother energy at its finest.

When Seokmin called, his voice was warm like honey lemon tea on a sore throat kind of warm.

“You settled in okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, twirling your pen. “Cheol helped too much. I think he rearranged my whole kitchen.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Seokmin chuckled, “and I definitely can’t wait to judge his taste in mug organization.”

You smiled without realizing. Seokmin had this way of easing into your days without asking too much. He wasn’t pushy like your brother, but steady, like a familiar melody. The kind you didn’t realize you were humming all the time.

You had met through Cheol, of course through all the "don’t you dare fall for my sister" warnings and late-night group hangouts where Seokmin made you laugh so hard you spilled soda on yourself.

Cheol never really said anything when he noticed how you and Seokmin kept glancing at each other. But he’d tighten his jaw. Cross his arms. Watch.

As if being carried to school on someone’s back earned them permanent veto power over your love life.

It was the week before Chuseok when you came home for a weekend.

Your mom had set out a basket of tangerines on the table. Just like every autumn.

Seungcheol came in from his jog and grabbed one, peeling it with lazy hands.

“I used to peel these for you,” he said casually. “So you wouldn’t get your fingers sticky.”

You looked at him sweaty, tired, older but still him. That boy who used to punch kids who teased you for having lopsided pigtails. That boy who walked behind you on field trips like a security detail.

“I remember,” you said softly. “You used to split one with me during winter.”

“I’d give you the sweeter half,” he added.

You raised a brow. “You said you gave me the sweeter half.”

He tossed a tangerine slice at you. “Still would.”

And that was Seungcheol. Big-hearted. Big-headed. A little too much of both.

“Seokmin's coming over,” you said one evening, helping Cheol stir jjigae.

His hand froze mid-stir. “Why?”

You rolled your eyes. “We’re working on a presentation together.”

“You’re not even in the same major.”

“He’s helping me with design. Can’t I hang out with my friends?”

Cheol didn’t answer. His silence was louder than words. Like a pot boiling over with the lid still on.

Later that night, when Seokmin arrived grinning and carrying instant tteokbokki like a peace offering the tension in the air was thick.

Seokmin greeted your brother. “Cheol! You look less scary today. That’s a win.”

Your brother didn’t laugh. You sighed.

But Seokmin stayed kind. Stayed patient. Stayed exactly the way you knew he would.

It happened unexpectedly. Cheol had come by your apartment after practice.

He spotted Seokmin’s jacket on your couch.

“Was he here last night?”

“Yeah.”

“Alone?”

You stared at him, stunned. “You don’t get to ask that.”

He didn’t raise his voice he didn’t have to. His disapproval filled every inch of the room.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he said. “Guys like him-”

“Guys like you?” you snapped.

That shut him up.

“You don’t get to act like I’m still eight. You don’t get to be angry just because someone else is carrying the backpack now.”

The silence that followed hurt more than shouting ever could.

He didn’t call for three days.

Then, one night, you found a box outside your door. Inside were:

One bag of your favorite chips.

A Polaroid of the two of you in middle school.

A note: Sorry for being a jerk. You're not a little kid anymore. But you're still my little sister. Just trying to figure out how to be okay with both.

You cried.

Then called him.

Then made him dinner.

Seokmin came over later that night, and surprisingly, Cheol didn’t interrogate him at the door.

They even shared a beer. Sort of. From separate ends of the couch.

You graduated. Seokmin held your hand as you walked across the stage. Cheol shouted louder than your parents.

Later, at the small family party, Cheol pulled Seokmin aside.

“If you hurt her,” he said, “I’ll rearrange your limbs.”

Seokmin smiled. “Then I’ll make sure I never do.”

And Cheol finally finally nodded.

You watched from the hallway, sipping orange juice from a mug he picked out years ago.

In that moment, you realized something: the older you got, the more you understood your brother’s love wasn’t about control. It was about memories carried on backs, peeled tangerines, and letting go, just enough to watch you grow.

[dioslesbianwife]

What would the stardust crusaders do for/with reader when they've fallen for them?

sure! i hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting <3

How the stardust crusaders act when in love

Jotaro Kujo

Small acts of protection. If you get a scratch, he just casually patches you up without saying anything. If you trip, his hand is already steadying you before you even realize it.

Gets annoyed at himself whenever he feels jealous but won’t say anything. Instead, he glares at whoever has your attention.

If you’re in danger, he loses his cool. Normally level-headed, but if you get seriously injured, he’ll break enemy bones with Star Platinum in under a second.

Eventually, he might say something short like, “Tch. You’re so damn troublesome.” But his actions speak louder than words.

Kakyoin

Charming and playful, but with a layer of genuine warmth. He naturally flirts, but you start noticing that his attention is only on you.

Casually buys you small gifts- souvenirs from their travels, a drink he noticed you liked, or even something hand-made.

Watches you carefully in battle. Not overbearing, but he positions himself in ways that make it easier to cover for you.

Compliments you often. But they aren’t just for flirting, he genuinely wants you to feel confident.

Playfully teases you. If you get embarrassed, he just smiles knowingly.

Polnareff

Immediately obvious. He’s not subtle at all.

Loud and dramatic about his affection. Compliments you constantly, “You’re absolutely stunning, mon amour!” even if you’re just drinking water.

Very touchy. Will casually throw an arm around you, hold your hands to show you something, and gets visibly flustered if you return the touch.

Would absolutely duel someone over you. Even if they were just being nice, he’d challenge them like an old-school knight.

If you’re upset, he drops the jokes and gets gentle, reassuring you with a soft voice.

Loves making you laugh. If you so much as chuckle at his antics, he puffs up with pride.

Avdol

Very mature and patient with his feelings. He won’t rush into anything, but his emotions run deep.

Always considers your safety first. He’ll step in if he sees you struggling before you even have to ask.

His kindness becomes extra personal. He naturally looks out for others, but with you, it’s different. He remembers small details, your favorite foods, things that stress you out, what makes you smile.

Long, meaningful eye contact. He doesn’t speak his feelings outright, but you can see them in his gaze.

If he really trusts you, he shares stories of his past, his hopes for the future, and gently asks about yours.

Joseph Joestar

Loud, boisterous, and full of dumb schemes to impress you.

He’s constantly bragging about his skills, even if it’s something ridiculous like, “Hey, did you know I can open a jar with one hand? Pretty cool, right?”

Finds excuses to be around you. He’ll drag you along for shopping, training, anything just to spend time together.

Absolutely the type to fake a tragic injury just to get your attention. “I think I’m dying- wait, no, don’t walk away!”

Flirts shamelessly, but if you flirt back, he gets more excited.

If you’re actually in danger, the goofy act is gone. He will protect you, no matter what.

[konpeitonom]

general dating headcanons for captain grant curly.

sfw— lowercase intended ^_^

g/n reader - no pronouns mentioned

requests are open, i do all the characters ^.^

notes; i love this guy. all of these are pre-crash on earth. i would love to write for post-crash/found curly someday perhaps. these are kind of everywhere. not proofread oopsies. wrote them sleep deprived zzz .. going to bed now!

— this man is extremely overbearing when it comes to his love. i mean there’s a reason everyone compares him to a golden retriever.

— in my small brain he is 6’2 and very beefy. he works out! it’s canon! gym bro and will annoy you about your protein intake.. but it’s because he cares!

— he is a morning person. it’s annoying unless you are one too. he will get up at 5 on the dot! he is not a coffee drinker in my opinion, or at least a morning one. he heard cold water is best in the mornings as a teen and stuck with it since.

— by the time you’re awake he’s already had breakfast (prepared you some as well, of course), ran a couple miles, and did all his chores.

— this man is the definition of acts of service. he is extremely considerate. If you're particular about food, how it’s cooked- how it’s served, he will make the effort to do so correctly.

— if you ever bring it up though he’ll just say ‘it’s the bare minimum for a man’ haha

— sort of likes it when you’re sick. not in a weird way, he just thinks it’s cute how you act. and he likes to take care of you. he is a very traditional man in that sense.

— i think he’s very private with his love! like everyone would know you’re together, no doubt about it. maybe subtle hand or cheek kisses in public but not much more than that. i think he thinks love is a very intimate, private thing.

— he’s not materialistic in any sense, quite the opposite. he’d invest and save in high quality things, get you the exact ring you’d want or do research in your hobbies to make sure you’d like what he’d purchase.

— i also like to think he sort of puts up a front when with others, but not with you. ideally, he’d want someone he can be vulnerable with from time to time and not feel as if he has to walk on eggshells constantly.

— he’d like pinching/poking at your tummy. he seems like a tummy guy. like he’d grab at it and squish it. i think he’d find thighs cute too.

— i think he’s definitely a cute-over-sexy kind of guy!! i stand by this!! no one can convince me otherwise.

— he likes playful banter! playful teasing! someone quick-witted. it eases up any potential tension.

— he would also just hold your hands and rub your fingers softly, kissing your knuckles. again, he’s very soft with his love. he’d be upset to hurt you in any way, especially physically. he knows he can be a bit too much when it comes to affection. and he never wants to make you uncomfortable!!

— back to his whole ‘private intimacy’ thing. he feels closest to you when you’re ‘parallel playing’.. doing mundane things, your own hobbies, but being beside each other- he feels so lucky to be able to do that. it feels domestic.

— we’ve already seen it in-game, but he does not like to argue whatsoever. sometimes it does him good, apologizes quickly, but in more serious moments it could definitely come off as him brushing off your feelings.

— he doesn’t intend to, he just wants to avoid arguing at all costs.

— more of a “let’s just talk things through” kind of guy. haha. as his partner you’ll have to understand how to talk to him, i assume.

— he is a good man. a great man even… husband material..

[sepublic]

After this episode I don’t think you can really blame Ragatha for being a people pleaser when twice she tries to be better than that and everyone just judges her for it like. At that point the problem really is everyone else. Jax derides Ragatha for not being honest about her frustration but when she is he still derides her anyhow. And if she isn’t being treated any differently why should Ragatha care about what others are saying???

Likewise it’s annoying seeing people infantilize Jax’s shitty behavior because OH he’s trapped in the circus and someone he knew got abstracted like. Bitch he’s not special so did everyone else. Zooble is also off-putting and negative but she makes a point to mind her own business and is nice even when the other person hadn’t initiated it towards her first.

Jax is going out of his way to be a gleefully malicious asshole, incessantly. And then has the gall to be offended at Ragatha for accidentally bringing up his issues, and is only nice when someone is nice to him. But in the end his lack of friends is 100% his fault. People have a right to be upset with him! Why is the onus on everyone to be patient with Jax, and not Jax to have basic restraint for once??? He talks such hot shit but can’t even take a single hit.

And like I love Pomni but the third episode already made a point that she DID make Ragatha feel excluded, it was a thing she apologized for, and Kinger’s framing puts Pomni’s neglect as the worst thing anyone could do; Not Ragatha being a bit overbearing.

So with that in mind it’s not out of the question to say that Pomni is doing the same for Ragatha. I’m not saying she’s maliciously, intentionally choosing Jax over Ragatha. But if Ragatha is considered by the fandom to still be responsible for how she makes others feel regardless of intent, doesn’t the same apply to Pomni?

Again she’s frustrated with Ragatha for infantilizing her but in the end she (or at least the narrative) kinda infantilizes Jax with her willingness to be more sympathetic and friendly because he’s actually just sad and lonely inside and doesn’t know better. Rather than being a grown-ass man people have made explicit to him that they’ve been upset by.

She’s put off by Ragatha coming across as being dishonest due to her fear of upsetting people, but instead of being up front to Ragatha about wanting to get through to Jax and needing someone to give her time to do so, Pomni lies about doing this for Ragatha, to give Ragatha a chance to redeem herself; Presumably because she’s afraid of upsetting Ragatha. Meaning she knows how this comes across and still does it.

I’ve seen some argue that it’s the other way around but I dunno. In the end Pomni doesn’t spare a passing glance to Ragatha afterwards or even remember to invite her. And it’s a flaw we’ve seen before so it’s not out of the question that it’s her same flaw at the root of this scene, and not just Ragatha’s insecurity making her perceive it that way.

Pomni admits that she wasn’t there for Ragatha but in the end she’s not really trying to stand up for Ragatha when Jax continues to both be an asshole and act as if Ragatha is the one who crossed a line. Maybe her goal is to talk Jax into being nice enough to apologize to Ragatha himself but given she lied to Ragatha about her intentions it feels almost a little knowingly insincere.

Sorry not sorry but fandom has always been way too forgiving towards male characters for being utterly terrible, while giving female characters so much flak for being even a bit flawed. The fact that people can even feel sorry for Jax’s “trauma” as if he isn’t constantly verbally abusing everyone around him is ridiculous. While they act as if Ragatha’s loneliness is a proportional consequence to being a bit needy; Like her efforts to be kind are just so inherently purely evil and hurtful. Jax and Ragatha are both traumatized but in Ragatha’s case she’s at least trying to avoid being an asshole about it and I just don’t buy the excuse that Jax has a “different coping method” like that’s what every shitty abusive man has said.

It’s absurd that everyone is talking hot shit about how Jax needs kindness when he’s the one who should be told that others need kindness. It’s absurd how people saw Kinger describe what Pomni did to Ragatha as Pomni explicitly makes it clear to us that Ragatha is the one being left out. And yet people will say Jax is the poor baby feeling left out as if his constant harassment isn’t what’s making people feel isolated. Gooseworx has even said that Jax deserves to be in the circus the most out of anyone. Like technically it shouldn’t happen to anyone but I’m gonna be real here sometimes there are basic consequences to one’s intentional actions. There comes a point where people do not fucking owe you shit!!!

[hopelessmidwesterner]

Early Bird Gets the Worm

Eddie Munson x Reader

established relationship, reader is kind of grumpy, is mentioned to have anxiety, swearing, mega (somewhat cheesy and self indulgent lol) fluff, pussy whipped Eddie lol, super brief mention of weed, Eddie being kind of annoying teehee, use of Y/N, ending is a little eh bc it's not proofread lol

1.4k words

Mornings with your boyfriend <3

If you had asked a young, somewhat arrogant and outcasted Eddie if he liked mornings he would have one, two word response: fuck no.

As most things, opinions, and people tend to do, though, that notion changed after some time; once he met you. You were his first (and hopefully only) love, a light at the end of the dark and torturous tunnel that made up his earlier years. He’d only had hookups, bad dates, and frivolous talking stages before you dropped into his life like an atomic bomb but after getting to know you, he grew grateful for everything that he’d ever been through since it led him to you.

You were rough around the edges, crude at times, ADD-riddled, a bit of a stoner, a huge music snob, and a goddamn comedian just like him but you also carried traits of inhibition, quiet, generosity, and softness that had been missing from his life for a long, long time. He fell and he fell hard for you. I mean for Christ’s sake, mornings became the best part of his day by the time he hit his mid twenties and it was all because of you. 

He woke up first. He always did not because he was a light sleeper (quite the contrary, actually) but because you had something called ‘sleepy girl syndrome’ (his words, not yours). You could sleep for 24 hours straight, honest to god. It didn’t matter how much you got, you’d always be down for a nap or a full blown snooze at the drop of a dime.

A long sigh followed by the cracking of joints sounded through the quaintness of his room as he stretched with a sleepy grin. The sun was just barely poking through the window, which meant he had around another hour before he had to get up for his 8:45 client down at the tattoo parlor near the edge of town. Turning towards you, he forced his tired eyes open and the mere sight of you made his grin double in size. 

You were knocked out, the purest sense of the word. Face smushed into the pillow, legs pulled up into the fetal position beneath the blankets, arms wrapped tightly around a stuffed dinosaur, lips slightly parted, hair a mess. You never looked more beautiful, he thought. You just looked so soft and unbothered, it was adorable. When you were wide awake, you tended to overthink and get caught in the vast seas of your mind but not like this when you were smack dab in the middle of Dreamland, USA.

As gently as possible, Eddie shuffled his way towards you until he was absurdly close, close enough that he could touch you with one simple shift. He tested his luck by casting an arm over your midsection and you squirmed a bit but ultimately settled down. Huffing the faintest of laughs out through his nose and moving ever so slightly to lay his head half on your pillow, he let himself relish in the feeling of holding you while he fluttered his eyes shut. 

It didn’t take long, however, until his overbearing body heat became too much even for your asleep self. You always did run hot and this morning was no exception. 

“Mmmgrmh.” Your hum was grouchy and unintelligible as you groaned, scooting back until you were at the very edge of the bed. One wrong move and you’d be on the floor. Eddie hadn’t yet fallen back asleep so he blinked a bit, smiling again since he knew you were stirring. Part of him knew that maybe it wasn’t a totally awesome idea to bug you right now but another, much larger part, couldn’t help but push your buttons.

As one can imagine, that part overruled the other. 

Even though you were trying with all of your might to fall back asleep, you knew that wouldn’t happen because of your boyfriend’s very unignorable presence. A tight arm looped over your waist and his face in your neck, you struggled to keep a straight face. 

“Y/N.” He muttered sleepily. You could hear the grin on his face, that shit eating smile that always melted your cold exterior into nothingness. You grumbled back, refusing to open your eyes just yet. 

“Sweetheart.” He said a little louder this time, punctuating the pet name with a dainty kiss to your collarbone. “Mm bored.” He trailed the affectionate pecks all the way up the side of your neck then back down again, lips lazily tracing over any patch of skin he could afford to get his hands on. 

Bored, really? That’s why he was waking you up? Asshole. 

“Mmsleeping.” You gargled out, ‘accidentally’ throwing an elbow his way.

Yeah, that aforementioned softness was definitely fleeting. 

“That’s why I’m waking you up.” He roared a croaky laugh as if it were funny. “C’mon, mama. I’ve got an hour ‘fore I gotta get outta bed.” 

“An hour you could use to sleep on your own side.” You said grouchily. He frowned even though you couldn’t see, kisses turning to deeper grazes of teeth against skin. It didn’t hurt, it tickled more than anything, but it did compel you to finally muster up some energy so you could properly give him a piece of your mind. 

“Eddie…” You flipped over to face him, forcing him to inch back even if he was still very up close and personal. His eyebrows raised and his lips pursed out of amusement as you grimaced, eyes still shut out of utter bullheadedness. 

“Eddie?” He jeered, squeezing at the exposed skin of your hip from where your shirt rode up. “You haven’t called me that since we were just friends. You’re that grouchy today?” You swatted his chest with a firm nod. He had a point but you prevailed.

“Mhm. Mm gonna wake you up by banging pots and pans around tomorrow.” 

“For that to happen, you’d have to be up before me. Which has never happened in the history of ever.” Another swat to the chest. At this point, he was gonna be cherry red by the time he went in for his client. 

“Hey! I didn’t lie!” He giggled.

“Didn’t say you did.” You said, pausing to yawn and curl into him a little more. He was annoying, sure, but he provided you with a great sense of security and comfort. “You’re just a dick.”

“Who, me?”

“Yes, you.” 

“Aw, c’mon. Lighten up, babe. I’m not gonna see you until tomorrow, you really wanna be all faux mean right now?” 

Well, damn. He presented a pretty sturdy case. Even though he only had the one client today and maybe a few walk-ins if anyone showed up, you had a typical shift at the thrift store you worked at in the next town over and then you had two back to back lectures that would take up the majority of the evening. You wouldn’t be coming home (to your OWN place without Eddie) until well after 10:00 P.M. 

You relaxed against Eddie rather than flat out giving in and saying he was right. A delighted whisper of a laugh scoffed from his lips but he showed mercy by not giving you shit for it. At least, not too much. 

“That’s more like it.” He crowed when you finally stared up at him, expression sleepy but less hostile.

It was the first time he’d seen your eyes since you went to bed the night before, which felt like centuries, and they never failed to render him speechless. Looking into them gave him inner peace. He’d never been religious or drank the kool aid like most of the folks in Hawkins but staring at you like he was now made him think that maybe some of those things were true; you were something of God, you had to be. 

“Shutup.” You slurred. A rare pout formed on your face when he laughed again but it didn’t linger since his next words sent a bolt of excited, girlish lightning through your body. 

“You know I can’t do that. It’s a chronic condition at this rate, angel…how about some Munson Famous Pancakes instead? I’ll even put chocolate chips in ‘em.”

Realistically, how could anyone with a brain in their head say no to that? You were tired but not stupid. 

“Okay.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“Perfect.” 

And it was perfect. Undoubtedly so. Mornings were flawless as long as you were there: grouchiness and all. 

God, if his teenage self could see him now. 

[thecaptainofcosmichorrors]

I see another cookie run writer hehe!!

Im Not Sure If you're okay with poly or not...If not just do them separately! Buttt Smc and Pure Vanilla relationship headcanons pretty pleaseee :P

[Am I okay with Poly?! You have no idea dear Anonymous, I can not get enough of these silly cookies together! Thank you for entertaining my wildest of whims (this actually cracked me up because I just put in one of my newest posts that I’m totally cool with it). I hail you by your new name, “writer ✍️ anonymous”!]

Pure Vanilla and Shadow Milk x Reader headcanons!

You absolutely started dating Pure Vanilla before being Shadow Milk Cookie, I can’t imagine it the other way around just because of his personality; not the biggest fan of sharing, but more specifically? Once you’re in a relationship with him, you’re his for life. Pure Vanilla is a lot more prone to being open to that.

Speaking of open, the two of you definitely had a conversation when the topic arrives. It’s crucial to Pure Vanilla the two of you are on the same page, and only when the two of you are does he acts on any feelings of his.

Depending on what you are definitely would change the dynamic of your strange trio; while they’re totally capable of dating a mortal cookie, it would also be more interesting to be immortal—especially when you get into the nitty-gritty of how this is possible.

If you’re one of the original pre-corrupted beast that somehow resisted corruption, it’s going to be messy on Shadow Milk’s side; there’s a bit of resentment mixed with a yearning to reconnect, because you so intrinsically understand what it was like to deal with such corruption—it was madness. Pure Vanilla would admire your resilience and appreciate your help with the other Ancients, if you did decide to reveal your true origins.

Getting back on track, the start of your relationship with Pure Vanilla is a little overwhelming? He’s so caught up that it can be a bit overbearing in its own way, especially with his almost instinctual need to please and care for you; if you’re not careful and don’t nip it in the butt early, he’ll end up love-bombing you more more than not.

He doesn’t mean any ill-will, he just really doesn’t want anything to happen to you and wants you to know that he loves you a lot. His lack of experience causes him to act on what he thinks you need, which can sometimes be incorrect. Once he calms down and you talk, you’ll see him be a lot more honest with his feelings; his ways of showing affection are a lot more down to earth and genuine.

Enough of talking about Pure Vanilla cookie, Shadow Milk cookie’s initially pretty antagonistic; him and Pure Vanilla’s history runs deep, that doesn’t even begin to go into his less than stellar feelings on you too—regardless of your status of knowing him.

He thinks that you’re probably just as idiotic as Pure Vanilla, soft and easily pleased; so he resigns himself to just watching the two of you, for his own enjoyment of course! Though the longer he watches he learns quite a bit about you—you’re kind, but beneath that tooth-achingly sweet façade of you is something almost fun? You are much spunkier than he initially anticipated, and are not easily swayed by his simple illusions—a good challenge. While his little games initially come off as antagonistic, the two of you start to have fun in them, and they become more light-hearted by consequence, the physical evidence of his true feelings.

Y’all being together is common, if not, then to be expected. Shadow Milk is always hovering around one of you at any given time; it’s very seldom he isn’t with you an/or Vanilla.

In a relationship, how they treat each other is complicated; they do love each other, but dating your soulmate means that they know everything about you—everything. They know each other like the back of their hand, and are super connected both in the literal sense; but more in a metaphorical sense… this also means they annoy the crap out of each other because of how much they know.

So you might be a bit surprised when I say this based on my other writings, but I actually don’t believe Pure Vanilla is all that physically affectionate; I think he can be, but he’s not clingy. He’s much more verbally affectionate than anything, now Shadow Milk? beyond clingy, needs to be touching you the entire time.

Because of the corruption, I imagine that he’s actually super cold; so anybody that runs hot would be thriving, though Vanilla definitely runs warmer—so you’ll have to get used to the conflicting temperatures. With cuddling, you’ll initially start with just hugging Shadow Milk; but by the end of night, you’ll get sandwiched.

In terms of bonding, you essentially have the entire kingdom to wander and spend time with your lovely cookies. Shadow Milk Cookies takes up writing his own scripts, while Pure Vanilla reads a lot—which means that there’s quite a few times where the three of you working on your respective things in the same room, occasionally getting each other’s feedback and thoughts. Pure Vanilla is pretty contented as long as the two of you are happy, so you’ll have to be pretty vigilant as to not let him let his wants fade into the background in favor of pleasing you two. He’s not afraid to speak his mind, he just wants y’all to be happy.

Pranks are also common, as Shadow Milk cookie is the beast of deceit and lies, but if you show disinterest/dislike in actually getting pranked? he will not prank you and he even let you join in—Pure Vanilla commonly being the victim of them. The degree of danger depends on his mood; nothing that would kill a cookie, he’s changed—besides, he doesn’t wanna sleep on the couch again. If you’re just as into causing mischief as him… you two are an absolutely terrifying duo.

[chris-prank]

Yandere CEO x GN reader

Not so helpless Part 1

CW: Manipulation, creepy behavior, clingy behavior, forced intimacy and L bomb

(This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, I do not support yandere behaviors in real life)

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

📈 Esteban was well known to be overbearing, blunt and a tad arrogant with his employees. He wasn’t outright mean, simply annoying to most. 

📈 He always looked proper with his flawless hair and his expensive suit perfectly tailored to his body. 

📈 His height and stature didn’t really help making him look approachable. Most people had to look up to talk to him or they would be uncomfortably looking at his man boob, the button of his shirt threatening to come loose at any moment. 

📈 He didn’t treat you differently, but luckily you weren’t in a high position in the company, meaning that you didn’t have to interact with him on a daily basis.

📈 Despite his bad reputation, you always distanced yourself from people who talked behind his back. You even tried to defend him on occasions, but soon stopped after people accused you of having a crush on him, which you didn’t.

📈 One day he seemed to stop coming to work to the surprise of everyone. You had overheard that his latest partner had broken up with him. You didn’t care about his personal life, but you did feel bad for him. A broken heart could definitely explain his absence…

📈 “Plea-please I…I need your help.” 

📈 After overcoming the shock of having your boss begging at your doorstep, you welcomed him inside. He was now sitting on your sofa, holding one of your pillows against his chest, crying a river into it. 

📈 Between sobs, you think you understood the situation. Since his partner had ended things with him, he hasn’t been able to take care of himself, go to work and even stay in his house because it reminded him too much of them. Only mentioning their name made him cry even more into the soft material. 

📈 You finally broke the silence with the question that was hanging in your mind since the start of this encounter. “So em… How am I supposed to help you?”

📈 “Well I’ll l-live with you of course.” He sniffed while rubbing his eyes. 

📈 Before all of this Esteban was uninterested in you. He caught glimpses of you when he walked around the building, and he had to admit you were quite attractive, but it was nothing more. The thing that made him choose you at his lowest was that he heard you defend him while eavesdropping on his employees' conversations once.

📈 “I k-know that everyone dislikes me at the office Sniff and the o-ones that don’t… a-are just boot lickers. P-please you’re the only o-one that I can count on!”

📈 He looked so pathetic with his swollen eyes, disheveled blond hair and open shirt. You sighed and accepted his request. You couldn’t refuse someone in need. Who knows what he would do unattended in this depressed state.

📈 The following days you felt like you were taking care of a big crybaby. Not that he didn’t do things by himself, quite the contrary. He would sometimes cook for you when you came back from work, he would also take care of the laundry and other small house chores around your apartment. He was still a bit blunt and arrogant at times, criticizing the way you did chores or your cooking skills.

📈 Don’t you see that he is so much better at this than you! Just let him do it instead while you go sit and praise him for his good work. 

📈 The real inconvenient, was that you had to be with him 24/7. This guy was a true attention whore, clinging to you at any chance he got. If that’s how he acted with his ex, you weren’t surprised that they decided to dump him. 

📈 You could feel eyes staring at you from the back of your skull, no matter what you were doing. If you turned around, you were met with sad puppy eyes, begging you to give him attention instead. 

📈 When you allowed physical touch, he would become all happy and clingy, not missing a chance to whisper in a whiny voice how kind you were to him. 

📈 “Wrap your hands a bit tighter around me… please? Aaah yes, just like that.”

📈 But leave him alone for more than ten minutes and he would go back to the pathetic state he was in, when you found him on your doorstep.

📈 As a result, your social life was sacrificed most of the time. When he was at his lowest, you had to have your groceries delivered and work from home (imagine the surprise of his subordinate when they got a call from Esteban to let you, an insignificant employee, work from home). 

📈 Spending this much time with you and sharing such a personal space made Esteban feel increasingly infatuated with you. You were so kind and understanding to him despite not having any obligation to do so! (Yay he was technically your boss, but he was so high up that his position didn’t truly affect yours.)

📈 He felt the irrepressible feeling to learn more about you and do anything that could spark a smile on your face.

📈 He started to act more and more affectionate with you as time went on, taking advantage of the situation. By the way he holds your waist and buries his head in your shoulder, anyone watching would think you two are a loving couple.

📈 “Too intimate? We’re simply cuddling! You should get your mind out of the gutter. It's nasty, you know.”

📈 Sometimes he would lay on top of you with his face nuzzling the crook of your neck, not caring if he was too heavy. If you stopped playing with his hair for more than ten seconds, he would whine until you played with it again. 

📈 The moment he got better enough to leave the house, he was following you everywhere. It doesn’t matter if it’s the grocery store, the movie theater or your local park, there he was, scotch taped to you. 

📈 He would hold your hand the whole time and refuse to leave your side no matter what excuses you gave him. He also tried to pay for your stuff at any chance he got.

📈 “You’ve done so much for me, so it’s the minimum I can do to thank you!” He pouted, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. 

📈 He looked perfectly fine from the point of view of any stranger, but at home he was still demanding as ever. It even went to the extreme length of him sleeping in the same bed as you, begging to spoon you every night. 

📈 At that point you felt like you were a replacement for his ex partner, a bad way for him to cope. That's when you started to think it was maybe better for him to try to live on his own again. 

📈 You told him that you thought he was becoming codependent and he needed real help to get better. 

📈 “No wait! I need you!” He sobbed, “You help me…you really do!” 

📈 He had fallen to his knees, clinging to your leg while incoherent pleas came out of his mouth. He couldn’t be abandoned again! He especially couldn’t let you leave him like this! He loved you!

📈 His extreme reaction was only making things worse for him, has it proved your point. You tried your best to reassure him that was the best thing to do. 

📈 After more crying and begging, he accepted to leave your place only if he could still come visit every now and then, which you accepted. You promised him to stay by his side as much as possible during his recovery before he finally walked out the door, alone. 

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

I hope you liked this new pathetic man! Also, sorry, but no illustration this time. I have a clear image in my head of what he is supposed to look like, but I just can't seem to put it on paper for now.

So I finally drew him lol you can see it here

[short-honey-badger]

This isn't over 3

Pairings! Shanks x Female Reader , Figarland Shamrock x Female Reader

Part 1 -> HERE Part 2 -> HERE

Masterlist for Shamrock and Shanks-> HERE

The days with Shanks pass in peace. You have all the freedom in the world on his ship, and his crew welcomes you with open arms and strong drinks. You get blistering drunk for the first time in your life with them, singing raunchy sea shanties at the top of your lungs and dancing with Bonk Punch and Limejuice. Shanks watched on with a lovestruck look, his burgundy eyes soft and full of affection. It's been weeks since he had stolen you away from his twin, and he still couldn't bring himself to regret it.

Was there a tiny kernel of guilt deep in his chest for stealing you away? There absolutely was, but Shanks knew that you weren't meant to be holed up in the big house, surrounded by people who only meant to use you for your name and your station. He had saved you from that, and now you were as free as the albatross that led them to land.

But he also knew his brother and knew that Shamrock had cared for you in his own, weird, roundabout way. His twin had come to him more than once, confused and annoyed about these feelings he had for you, and Shanks had helped where he could, telling his big brother that the best way to your heart was to be kind and let her know that he was interested. Shanks hadn't meant for his brother to go and speak to their gods-forsaken father about it.

There was only one person that Shamrock listened to, and that was Saint Figarland Garling, and that man had taken his eldest son’s chance with you and ground it into the floor with his boot. So, after seeing the tentative relationship you shared with Shamrock literally blow up after his brother continued to berate and scold you, Shanks had had enough.

At first, he only meant to step in to be someone you could talk to that you could rely on when his twin became too overbearing. But then he realized just how sweet and funny you could be when you weren't ducking your head trying to be the perfect betrothed for Shamrock. Eventually, you had stolen his heart, and Shanks knew that he couldn't leave you in Mariejois to become a shell of who you are.

With a quiet sigh, Shanks shifts on the bed, rolling so that he can face you, his lips pulling into a small smile at the sight of you curled up beside him. You are beautiful even in your sleep, your brow smoothed out, and your face relaxed in rest. He leans over you, lips brushing against your brow, and you shift at the touch, a soft sound of protest leaving you. He grins when you crack your eyes open.

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” He rumbles, voice rough from just waking up. You smile, eyes bleary and reach for him, arms coming up to curl around his neck and pull him down for a sweet kiss. He happily meets your lips, eyes sliding closed as he falls into you, his weight a delightful pressure that pushes you into the mattress.

He shifts, pulling his knees up so that he can balance on them, one leg sliding over your hips to bracket you between his thighs. His hand wonders, nails dragging along your exposed waist and sneaking up and under the baggy shirt you wear. You sigh into the kiss when he cups your breast, his thumb flicking across your nipple before Shanks gently pinches the bud between thumb and forefinger, rolling it between his fingertips and making you whine against his mouth.

Only for the moment to be broken by the sound of cannon fire.

The Red Force jerks as it is struck in the bow, wood exploding and splinters raining down around the crew outside. Shanks jerks up and away from you, eyes going wide as he falls to the side and out of the bed, jerking his pants on as quickly as he can and foregoing any other clothes as he books it out the door of his cabin.

Terror grips your heart when another volley strikes the ship, sending it careening dangerously to the side. You follow your lover's lead, ripping the sheets off of you and dressing as quickly as you can before running after him. Once outside, your heart gets stuck in your throat when you see just who had attacked the ship.

There, a couple of hundred feet away, is a ship that could only have come from Mariejois. A massive galleon, at least three rows of cannons on each side, and forward chain shots mounted on the front. If you squint hard enough, you can see a figure standing at the front of the bow, just behind the figurehead, with long red hair whipping in the harsh winds.

“Brace for impact!” Benn snarls and then you are grabbed around the waist and pulled against the first mate's side when the last volley sings its way toward the Red Force, smashing into the port side and blowing chunks of wood into the ocean.

Your heart pounds in fear and guilt, knowing that Shanks and his crew were being attacked because of you. Shamrock had sworn to find you, and it seems like he had made good on his promise to do so. You rip yourself from Benn and sprint towards where you can see Shanks at the helm, a look of annoyance etched deep in his face.

“You should be down below, sweetheart. It's not safe up here for you,” Shanks snaps the moment he sees you. He had hoped that you would have stayed inside his cabin. Shanks grits his teeth, his haki lashing in rage. He can't believe his brother would fire upon them like this.

“Man, the cannons! Get us turned around, Snake!” He orders, and his crew jumps to action, men climbing the rigging and stuffing cannonballs into cannons. You cling to the railing when half the sails snap shut, the Red Force turning on a dime to present the starboard side towards the ship from Mariejois. Your teeth rattle in your skull when cannons fly from the ship, sailing through the hair and striking the other vessel with dangerous precision.

The ships begin to circle one another, cannons and chain shots flying slamming into each other. However, the longer the battle rages, the more damage the Red Force begins to take. The galleon that Shamrock captains are much larger than the fast frigate that his twin has, and for every volley of cannon fire the Red Force throws their way, Shamrock sends three times as many right back.

“Shanks, Shanks, you know why he is here,” you yell over the sounds of battle. You stumble your way over to him, feet aching from stepping on splinters and broken wood. You grab him by the arm to steady yourself and get his attention.

Shanks pulls away just so that he can curl his arm around your waist and hold you closer. He knows exactly why his twin is here, but like hell would he be giving you up without a fight.

“I know it, baby. Don't you worry though. He isn't taking you anywhere,” Shanks swears, but jerks in shock when you push at his chest, your voice a desperate plea.

“Shanks, your ship is seconds away from sinking! I know that you and your crew are strong, but so is your brother. I don't want any of you to get hurt!”

He rounds on you, his eyes wide and manic, hand grabbing you by the shoulder, “What are you saying then? I should just let him have you?”

You grasp his wrist, chest aching with fear and grief for a love you'd only just gotten to know. Tears well up, and as much as you don't want to do this, it was the best way to keep Shanks and his crew safe.

“Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying,” you cry. You want to throw yourself at him, want Shanks to hold you close, and tell you that you didn't have to do this, but you can't.

“Please, Shanks.”

The redhead stares down at this brave, brave woman who has stolen his heart and swears loudly. He knows that you are right. His ship has taken on more water than it has in decades, making it list to the side and shake ominously with every strike it takes. Shanks steps forward, hand curling into your hair and pulling you in for a passionate kiss, one that you would remember for the rest of your life.

“I promise, love. I promise that I will save you,” Shanks swears against your lips, and you whine and kiss him back, wanting with everything in your being for his promise to be true, “Nothing will ever keep me from you.”

When he pulls away, you take him by the cheeks, meeting his eyes with your own teary ones, “I love you.”

With that, you tear yourself away, fearing that if you hear him say it back, you will end up staying right by his side. You run to one of the rowboats and throw yourself into one, cutting the rope with a jagged piece of metal that slices into your palms when you grasp it. You brace yourself as you fall, the boat hitting the water hard enough that you have to catch yourself anyway.

You can hear Shanks shouting your name, but your ears are ringing too much and stuffed with terror that you can't make out anything he says. With shaky arms, you begin to row toward Shamrock, the air growing still and silent within seconds. Curious, you look up to see that the Red Force is waving the white flag and has turned around, the wind catching the mainsail and hurting the frigate further and further away from you.

You stop rowing, knowing that Shamrock would be here soon enough to scoop you out of the ocean. It is too soon that the galleon reaches you, the massive ship sliding up to your rowboat. You refuse to move from where you sit, and seconds later, a pair of tall, black boots land in front of you.

Shamrock's chest feels thick in heady victory. It had taken a bit, but he had finally caught up with his brother. He crouches down, gloved hands snapping out to cup your cheeks and pull your face up to look at him. He takes in your expression, your eyes full of terror that make arousal burn hot in his stomach. Adrenaline running high, he bends and presses his lips to yours, drinking in the gasp you make and taking his chance to push his tongue past your lips.

The kiss is harsh and sloppy, a far cry from the one that you had shared with Shanks, but you don't fight against it. You have accepted what you've done, and it is time to face the consequences of your actions.

To your surprise, the kiss changes, his lips turning into a gentle caress and his tongue curious instead of demanding. Still, you do not kiss back, but it doesn't seem to matter to Shamrock. He sighs as he pulls away, his brow resting against your own as he opens his eyes to meet your own glassy ones.

“I have been waiting weeks to do that,” Shamrock murmurs, and his hold on you turns possessive, fingers curling around your jaw as he holds you closer, pressing his face against your own, his nose sliding across yours, “And now you are here, and I can have you whenever I desire.”

@mfreedomstuff @sanjisleggy @nocturnalrorobin @mit-suri @forever-a-night-owl @sordidmusings

[daenysx]

I seriously love the vibes of all your sleepovers. Can I ask for modern!au where James Potter babies and comforts reader when she’s having a hard time? If not totally understand <3

James has big hands. Big, not so soft because the air is dry and he neglects applying hand cream, but always gentle. He's really good at putting on the right amount of pressure as he rubs wide circles on your back. You kind of want to melt here and never deal with anything else.

It's a bad day. More like a bad week. You can find reasons or maybe excuses if you try hard enough, but you don't want to. You feel beyond overwhelmed, so emotional but also so empty. Something disturbs your stomach, your legs get numb if you don't stretch them enough. Your body doesn't feel like it's yours and- that's too annoying to be true.

James is here. He always is. His fingers press on the tight spots on your back and you try to relax. It works, mostly. It works better when he kisses you.

"Can I get a kiss?" you ask him with a low voice. You know he tries to be cautious, not overbearing, just here for you. You don't mind asking for things.

"Of course," he says, cupping your cheek to get you closer. "You can have as many kisses as you want."

This is a good promise. You feel better, focusing on James' lips and controlling your breathing. His thumb gently circles on the skin of your neck, you sigh softly. He takes his time, cuddling up and holding you in his lap. A hand goes on your thigh to stroke the tight muscle.

"I feel better," you tell him. He never asks verbally, but you know he likes it when you let him know. Your fingers linger on his cheeks, he smiles broadly, the kind of sunshiny one you love seeing so much.

"Happy to hear that, angel girl," he kisses your neck sweetly. "Are you hungry? Maybe we can order something, Sirius was talking about a new place."

You shake your head. "Can we decide later?" Suddenly making the simplest decisions is hard.

"Sure," he agrees. "You know, actually I changed the coffee brand we always get. Do you wanna try it?"

"Hmm," it sounds good, you just don't think you can leave the bed.

"I can just make it really quick."

"I'm gonna come with you to kitchen," you tell him. "Just- 5 minutes later."

He laughs, and it's bright. He's so strong as he pulls you to his chest, hugging you so tight. "My sweetheart, did I tell you how much I love you today? You smell so good, I wish we could just stay like this forever."

"I love you." you say with your softest voice.

"I love you, I love you so much," he kisses his way on your neck, holding you in his lap so tight. "My sweetest angel, I love you so much."

You laugh, smiling so big as he kisses you again and again. He keeps holding you until you're ready to go to kitchen, you're on clouds, being in love with him feels so safe- you like being in his arms. You like being kissed so sweetly. You like how you can stop thinking, he's here and he thinks of everything when you can't.

starry girl sleepover ☆

[miamooooo]

Lowk thinking about Josh being head over heels and following around alt!reader the second he meets her 😵‍💫

him being soooo into her the second they meet he just follows her around like a little dog

sub!josh with a dom!alt!reader fills my braaiinnnn

i can absolutelyyyyy see that. i can honestly see josh being a service sub too. like he isn't very direct or open about it, but you can just tell. he wants your approval soooo bad it starts to get so obvious.

(warnings): nsfw, handjob

the moment josh spots you, he's immediately interested in you. he's instantly into your vibe and look, he just thinks you're really hot. he literally makes it his goal to have at least one conversation with you. he would definitely have some terrible opener that he thought would be cool until he actually says it. "hey, so.. what's your deal?" it's terrible and awkward and he knows it, but he's desperate to get a conversation to happen. it would be something so out of the blue that it catches you off guard lol. after the conversation happens, omg he's hooked. he's literally obsessed with you. he finds every little excuse to be around you; following you around like a puppy, catching up to walk beside you and slinging an arm around your shoulder to start up a conversation about literally anything. he'll do whatever to be in your presence. josh tries to be casual about the whole thing, but it was impossible. it was simple gestures at first; he would start inviting you out to places, introducing you to his friends, and maybe sometimes even deciding to buy you your favorite cup of coffee in the mornings. yes, he's just that obsessed with you that he had to know what your favorite kind of coffee was. he doesn't think it's creepy.. or at least he tried to convince himself that it wasn't. at first, you're a little annoyed by his naturally witty, joking, and slightly overbearing nature, and the fact that he always conveniently had to be around you, attached to you like a leech. but as time goes by, it starts to click for you, and you start to find his little obsession endearing. he's so cute and you wanna get your hands on him. and it surprisingly didn't take long for that to happen! of course, josh had very dirty thoughts about you two every now again, but he never even thought he'd be in a predicament where he was the one getting pinned against some random bathroom wall, watching the person that he was completely obsessed with give him a handjob. but he absolutely wasn't complaining. especially when your hand felt so perfect wrapped around his cock. he would look so pretty as you gently fisted him, thumb swiping over the slit of his tip that made you quickly find out where he was the most sensitive. you do it again, teasingly, and it has him jerking his hips forward, a loud groan rumbling in his throat. oh you were gonna make him feel so good. he deserved it. he’s so vocal and obvious about how you're making him feel too. he would be leaking precum, his bottom lip caught in between his teeth, head thrown back against the wall as he grips tightly at your waist. "f-fuck yeah.. keep doing that," his voice is low and shaky, a huge contrast to how he presents himself to everyone else. it was almost like he was afraid of telling you what to do. but you listen to him anyway, because how could you not? you start to twist your wrist rhythmically, hand moving up, then back down. your thumb would occasionally rub over his tip, and you couldn't help yourself from softly laughing at the way he'd start desperately fucking himself into your hand. "gonna cum?" you teasingly asked, and it only makes josh huff out in frustration and thrust his hips harder. of course he was gonna cum! when he cums, he makes the biggest mess everywhere. he's spilling all over your hand and his own pants, and it's so much of it, like he's been saving up for this very moment. even after his orgasm, he's still so eager to please you! he would probably beg to be inside of you next.