#just drabble

[scarabsinthestardust]

I wanted to share a story. It's one of those distant memories that you mostly forget about until it gets dredged up, one way or another. Like those memories you block out until your therapist pushes you to look back, to search for whatever incident altered your mental state and and caused your initial trauma.

In middle and high school, I wrote a lot. I had countless notebooks filled with silly, fictional stories, mostly dumb fantasy stories about cliche "main character" girls with red eyes and emo vibes. I was more likely to be writing during class instead of actually paying attention. I'd never let anyone read them, though, except maybe a select one or two people.

I started writing a new piece, a fantasy about a kingdom of winged demons and the human girl who gets captured and imprisoned by them. Looking back now, it really was dumb. But it was going to be THE ONE. This was the one I was going to turn into a book. This is the one I would send to get published, that would make it onto the shelves at my local Barnes & Noble.

In my junior year of high school, I got into a relationship. I fell in love, gave up my virginity, etc. Ultimately, I stayed with him for three years. Even though he was never physically abusive, he definitely was on an emotional level. He would tear me down constantly. When I would share my dreams, things I wanted to do, things I strived for, he would tell me that I was being stupid and that it would never happen. Unfortunately, I didn't realize this until later on down the road, after our relationship ended. When my loved ones would tell me I was in trouble, that he wasn't treating me right, I brushed it off. "He wouldn't do that. He loves me. That's just how we are with each other." When I did finally end it, it took three tries. I'd cave when he threatened to kill himself and I'd forgive him - a classic manipulation tactic. But I did finally get out, and moved on.

During this relationship, however, I was still writing. I'd reached 27 chapters of my book, probably hundreds of hours of work put into it. After an argument with my boyfriend, he went onto my laptop and erased all of it. I was young and didn't really know anything about "backing it up" at the time. So it was lost.

I tried to rewrite it, but I couldn't get it to flow again. Maybe it was because I was just so discouraged, but I couldn't get the words to come. So I stopped.

That was around 2011/2012. I didn't start trying to write again until December 2023.

It started with some silly video game fanfiction, but just writing again was making me feel a sense of happiness I hadn't really felt in a long time.

Then I found Greta Van Fleet, and immersed myself in that fandom. I fought a little, I guess against the stigma of a grown woman writing fanfiction about real people. I was embarrassed. But as the words and ideas started flowing again, a short little Jake fanfic turning into a multi-chapter story, I realized this was what I needed. So I kept going, kept expanding. I let someone read them, and she had nothing but good things to say, eventually convincing me to post it online.

I was terrified to put my writing out there publicly, for strangers to see, but the response has been awe-inspiring. To read all the lovely feedback from people that are AMAZING writers themselves, it was such a surreal feeling. And it's pushed me to keep going, even when it gets a little hard or I get stuck, I just keep writing. Because that's what I want to do, what I've always wanted to do.

So, to all the people that have taken the time to read what I've put out there, you're wonderful. I appreciate you all more than you will ever know.

[koko-kiko]

Caffeinated Drabbles #1 - Hobie Brown

Heeeey, my name is Koko and I want to start posting more on this account till I feel confident enough to post my artwork. Till then, imma be posting little drabbles everytime I’m too hyped up on caffeine or my insomnia kicks in (which is going to happen a lot seeing as I live off little sleep and my blood is black coffee XD)

I recently went to a black veil brides concert and it got me to thinking about Hobie Brown and potential songs to use in Hobie Brown x reader fanfics.

Ok so I just recently watched ATSV like last week (even though the movie has been out since June) and I fell in love with the cockney rhyming spider-punk. However wished the directors had included more punk rock music with the little screen time Hobie got. In Hobie’s dimension, Earth-138, it’s the 1970s and the punk rock genre just started in Hobie’s city of Old York. Now if we do more historic punk rock bands of the time I can imagine Hobie liking the Ramones, The Buzzcocks, Sex Pistols, Dead Kennedy, you know the obvious. Punk rock bands that made an impact on the beginning of the genre’s creation/revolution. However it got me to thinking about other songs from different genres that could fit Hobie’s ideologies or just him singing it for the heck of it. I’m a fan of rock and metal, I grew up with the genres so I can think of several songs that I could see him possible rocking to or even performing cover songs.

Here’s a small list of what I’ve compiled of rock/metal songs I could imagine Hobie liking or possibly singing. Imma put links if you’d like to listen to them:

-Rebel Yell (Both the original by Billy Idol and cover by Black Veil Brides)

- Black Diamond by Kiss

- Hit that by The Offspring

- You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring

- The Pretender by Foo Fighters

- Zombie (Both the original by The Cranberries and the cover by Peyton Perrish)

- Satellite and Savior by Rise Against

- I Am The Weapon by Three Days Grace

- Break by Three Days Grace

- Wake Up, The Legacy, Blackbird, Fallen Angels, and Perfect Weapon by Black Veil Brides

- Half God Half Devil by In this Moment

- Raise Hell by Dorothy

- Chapter Four by Avenged Sevenfold

- Open your Eyes, Run, Deify, Stricken and Parasite by Disturbed

- Wrong Side of Heaven by Five Finger Death Punch

- Get Out Alive by Three Days Grace

- For Who The Bell Tolls by Metallica

- Been to Hell by Hollywood Undead

- Stitches by Bullet for my Valentine

- We’re not gonna take it by Twisted Sister

- Should I Stay or Should I Go by The Clash

- Song 2 by Blur

- Spider to the Fly by So Long Until the Seance

- Burnin’ For You by Blue Oyster Cult

I’m seriously considering making a Hobie x reader based on one of these songs. Please let me know if that’s something you guys are interested in or if you guys have any song suggestions you guys think suit Hobie’s taste or style.

Well that’s the end of my Drabble, bye!

[robojeq]

This is how you show me you love me

Read my favorite books, experience my favorite songs

And give me yours—

Let me know you, so I can love you more.

We don’t care to know the things we have no love for, after all—

I’ll read it all, hear it all, watch it all.

Because I love you, I love you.

“To have someone understand your mind is a different kind of intimacy.”

— Unknown

[ayyy-pee]

waking up freezing and shivering, teeth chattering every night because your husband is a blanket hog. you know it's not on purpose. he just can't help it. doesn't even know he does it most times. you'd think after years together you'd be used to it, but waking up curled into the fetal position as you try to retain even a smidge of warmth is something you don't think you'll ever adjust to.

so you reach behind you, feeling your spouses large form wrapped snug as a bug in your shared blanket and you grip onto the fabric. you pull as hard as you can but you don't manage to move him even an inch. you try once more...same result.

"ken..." you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself. no response. "kento..."

he doesn't budge. you're tempted to just get up and go grab another blanket, but your husband, despite his seriousness, can get quite pouty when you do that. so you tap him hard instead sure to jab him in the spot you know is his most sensitive. this seems to do the trick as he grunts in response.

"I'm cold," you tell nanami and he sits up quickly, realizing what he's done. his pajama top hangs off one shoulder. his blonde hair is pointing every which way and sleep is heavy on his eyelids, threatening to weigh him down again any minute.

"I'm sorry, love," nanami speaks, voice rough and deep with exhaustion, but the sincerity in his apology clear.

then he's throwing the blanket back over you both. only he adds in a little extra warmth as he wraps his arm around your waist and throws a large leg over your body.

nanami buries his face in your neck, adjusting himself so that he can be as close to you as possible. only a few seconds pass before you hear his light snoring behind you. and you know the warmth you feel is from more than just his touch.

[heavenbarnes]

thinking about your older bf!simon that cannot cope with being far from you.

when you’re in the shower, he’s sat on the lid of the toilet on his phone (watching those rug cleaning videos) enjoying your faint singing under the stream of water, the smell of your body wash on the cloud of steam- ready to pass you a towel or get your back.

when you’re at your desk, working from home or studying, he’s just on the other side of it reading the paper with one outstretched leg tangled with both of yours. he’s dead quiet when you’re on a call, just happy to be around.

when you’re doing laundry, collecting the clothes in the hamper and crouching to stuff them into the washer- turning around and accidentally colliding with a thick wall of muscle.

“sorry, love”

he steps aside but you can hear his soft footfalls as he continues to follow you throughout your home.

when you’re both watching something on the couch, what starts as his pinky locked with yours turns into his arm around your waist. that turns into your head on his chest, which culminates with you falling asleep in his lap with his cheek on your head and soft snores emanating from his lips.

when you grocery shop, you push the trolley but his chest is to your back, arms either side of you and hands clasped over yours on the handle. you can thank his military training for his uncanny ability to tell exactly when you’ll stop walking.

when he wakes up in the middle of the night, on a rare occasion when you’ve managed to slip out of bed without him realising, he’s immediately in a panic calling your name.

“in here, my love”

as soon as his heart settles, he realises the bathroom light was probably a dead giveaway. you’re taking a wee, you’ll be back in a minute.

that doesn’t stop a sleepy simon from leaning in the doorframe, shielding his eyes from the big light as he waits for you to finish up.

even on the short walk back to bed, you can feel fingers twisted in the back of your shirt- almost like you’re leading the way.

minute you’re both on the mattress, you’re being wrapped up in his arms, slotting you perfectly into the curve of his front- almost like you’re made for him.

(and you are)

[hiraethwrote]

Imagine trying to escape an annoying ex who just will not leave you alone. And one day, around lunchtime, you’re so unlucky as to run into them in a cafe. They start badgering you about grabbing a bite together when you just blurt out “I’m actually here on a date!”

They instantly start grimacing and asking all sorts of questions about who this might be, causing you to panic. “Aah, there he is!” You desperately grab the arm of the next person to enter the cafe, hoping they’re able to read the situation and then have the decency to play along.

That random individual is no other than Satoru, who looks absolutely baffled by the abrupt encounter. His eyes darts between your ex and you, pleading with your eyes to help you out.

It takes him less than a second to make up his mind, slinging his arm over your shoulders and flashing your ex a smug grin — and then he commits wholeheartedly to the bit. He starts lying through his teeth about how much he enjoyed your last date, that he just picked up that book you recommended and he thought you might want to go to a botanical garden for your next meeting.

Eventually, your ex has had enough of the sight and leaves the cafe — you exhale deeply and relief washes over you. And once you begin to thank the stranger, he notices just how pretty you are. Kind eyes, a warm little smile that lingered after having laughed along to his performance, and a frame that simply seems to fit next to him.

The little unexpected interaction has caused you to run late. Rushing out a million little thank you’s, before pulling out your wallet. You pay for what you came for, then hand him some cash, “I’d love to pay for your lunch but I have to run. So just, take this, thank you again!” You chuckle lightly before quickly backing out of the cafe.

In your hurried haze, Satoru barely gets a word in. What really bothers him, is how he never managed to get your name before you’re out of there, and from that moment you’re stuck on his mind.

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[theorist-fox]

Can I interest you in some silly sex with Simon? 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️

18+

Word count: 1k.

CW: nothing really. Just silly sex. Just giggling sex. Just I-need-to-give-this-man-some-humanity sex. Simon is ticklish and you find out, that's the plot.

Masterlist 🦊

𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

You look delectable straddling his hips.

Naked and soft, plump tits sitting prettily in his hands. His thumbs swipe idly around your perked nipples as you ride him slowly, early morning sun peeking through the curtains and lapping at your skin. What a way to wake up, what a sight.

He stares at your lips and how they part for him—something he still has to get used to, though he probably never truly will. How dulcet does his name sound if it’s your voice whispering it, how beautiful your eyes when they take in his face.

Soft hands are pressed on his chest for leverage, and you’re treating him with a view he keeps pinned to the forefront of his brain—gliding your cunt until you’re chock-full of him, stroking yourself until you’re shivering.

He likes it when he’s on top, sure. He’s used to taking the lead and orchestrating every detail, in and out of the job. 

But when you allow him to sit back and take it? Hell, sign him up. He’d do it every day. Especially when it’s this lazy sex here, in which you’re canting your hips to cum before he does, giving him the blissful chance of feeling you clench around him when he's still hard. 

Goosebumps rise under your nails as they graze down his chest and brush his stomach. Your hands wander blindly on his belly, then his sides, as you clock his eyes with your heavy ones, panting softly, idly—my beautiful, beautiful girl.

But then you inadvertently brush his ribs, and he stiffens—even squirms, and your movements come to a halt.

You blink as conscience returns to you slowly, and the room sinks into tense silence. His cock twitches inside of you when you tilt your head inquisitively, squinting your eyes.

Experimentally, you brush your fingertips against his ribs again, and his biceps flatten to his sides, trapping your hands.

Your eyes widen, and his do the same.

“Don’t.”

You gasp, “Oh my God.”

“Darling, no.” He warns, but you’ve clearly made up your mind already.

Your lips are curled in a smile that promises mischief, and he can only give up, sit back, and count his losses.

“Darling, yes.”

Simon feels your fingers wiggle under the tight press of his arms, but no matter his strength, they're seemingly useless against that playful resolve you're displaying.

His cock is still embarrassingly hard inside you, and Simon reckons it won't soften any time soon. You don’t seem eager to get off him either, thus prolonging the torture with each tiny movement you make.

He inhales sharply and fights tooth and nail to school his expression into neutrality. His eyes are narrowed, and his jaw is locked tight. The only thing giving him away is the flush of his cheeks, getting pinker by the second because he refuses to open his mouth to breathe a much-needed lungful of air. Knowing that if he would, he'd bark a laugh that would proclaim you as the winner of this fight.

He would never.

You roll your hips, then—cheap trick. He unravels with a shaky breath, and his biceps give out enough for you to slip your hands away.

And then, he knows he's done for.

“Cut it out.” He barks, trying to sound stern and miserably failing. He knows because you're laughing even harder.

Your fingers feel like tiny bugs crawling up his sides, and they make his breath catch in his throat.

“Never.” You say, with a grin that scrunches your nose. A smile that would normally make his heart throb, but right now just makes him wish he were a lesser man so he could throttle you.

“Fuckin’-“

You chuckle.

You evil little cunt.

Resistance lasts a few more seconds before he bursts.

It’s not a full laugh that leaves him; more of a wheeze that makes you chortle like a wicked witch. His chest heaves as your fingers frantically tickle his sides. Tries to get you off him by shaking his hips, but that only makes the two of you falter and moan, and then chuckle and catch your breaths.

His shoulders shake in a breathless, choking laugh that pitches upward as you continue with your assault (yes, assault—he is not being dramatic), eyes veiled with tears of frustration and mirth. He shrieks when your hands travel under his armpits—the sound makes you giggle in a way that would have him melt. 

“That laugh’s lovely, baby.” You say with a smarmy grin he wishes he could wipe with a kiss, hands unrelenting against his sides. “Sound like a kettle whistling.”

He tries to glower and push you off, but you’re surprisingly strong when you’re focused. Right now, your only goal is to apparently make him hate you—he'd rather be held at gunpoint than being forced to hold in a laugh that makes his stomach hurt.

Simon now looks shockingly harmless, with his cheeks flushed bright red and his voice an octave too high—wouldn't look dangerous if he tried.

“Tea ready, yet?” You add, batting your lashes, because why not rub salt into the already embarrassing wound marring his pride.

It’s that unfathomably stupid joke that finally makes Simon crack. He barks out a laugh that bubbles up his throat, rippling through his stomach so suddenly that you bounce above him. Your own laugh follows soon after, because each time you manage to steal one from him, your heart vibrates with loving triumph.

But still—he is Simon Riley, isn’t he? Member of Task Force 141. Lieutenant in the UK Special Forces, SAS. The Ghost. There is some pride in there, one he'd like to keep intact.

He tries to recollect his breath, sniffling, and his arms shoot out to wrap around your waist. He rolls onto his side, taking you with him.

It’s then that you find yourself in a position of utter disadvantage, on your back with your big brute of a boyfriend holding you down. You’re wide-eyed and still smiling with barely contained giggles, and he’d be lying if he said it doesn't make his heart soar.

Sure, he’s panting, still proper flushed and apple-cheeked, with shivers wrecking his spine and unshed tears in his eyes—but he takes great pride in having won yet another fight (again, not overreacting at all, if you ask him).

He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head.

You fix him with a look. “Simon, no.”

Before you can add more to your complaint, he rams his cock into you until your chest stutters, your lips mouthing around a shaky breath he drinks dry with a wet kiss.

He fucks you into the mattress, then—once, twice, until the remnants of laughter vanish from your face and you’re trembling in bliss, eyes rolled back under heavy eyelids.

He places a sloppy kiss down to your collarbone.

“Simon, yes.”

[hellishattempt]

nanami kento comes home on a saturday afternoon, hands full of groceries and hair freshly cut. in the distance, he hears his precious wife humming along to her favorite soundtrack. you must not have heard him come in. he smiles to himself, setting the groceries on the counter, but not unloading them. that can wait. right now, he wants to hold you.

he slips out of his shoes, padding quietly to the laundry room where you are folding towels. you have your back to him, headphones lodged in your ears. as nanami gets closer, the music bleeding from your headphones becomes audible. he chuckles softly. no matter how many times he tells you it's bad for your ears, you insist on listening to your music at just below full volume.

snaking his arms around your waist, you jump at the sudden contact. nanami presses his chest against your back as you take out your headphones, leaning into his touch. you sway in silence for a moment, nanami resting his chin on your shoulder. when you turn to face him, your expression changes at the sight of his hair.

"your hair," you state dumbly. "you cut it."

"yes," your husband muses. "is there something wrong with it?"

"no, no!" you assure nanami, studying his hair. "i just wasn't expecting it. you normally have me do it, which you know i don't mind doing."

"i know, but i didn't want to bother you on your cleaning day."

your expression softens at his words. nanami, your ever loving, ever caring husband, always thinking about you before himself. you reach one hand up, smoothing the hair down the back of his neck. as you bring your hand up, the freshly cut hair pricks your palm, and nanami lets out a low hiss.

you immediately apologize, pulling away. "did that hurt?"

"yes, but it's okay. it felt... good," nanami confessed. "... do it again. please." his voice is thick and demanding, and you obey without hesitation.

this time, you use just the tips of your fingertips to graze his undercut, beginning at the base of his neck. his breathing quickens as you continue to to run your hands through his undercut, going up and down, switching from one hand to both, thumbs caressing the sides of the cut. the laundry room fills with his melodic whimpers and faint groans. his eyes are shut tight, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

"fuck..." he cusses lowly.

"you okay, nani?" you giggle, stopping momentarily. his eyes flash open, pupils blown. "kento?"

"let's go to the bedroom," he insisted, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the master bedroom. you barely have time react before nanami pushes you back on to the bed, practically ripping your leggings off.

"kento, what are you doin-" you try to protest, his hands clamping around your wrist and bringing them down to grip his hair. his head disappears between your leg, lips latching around your clit. involuntarily, your fingers tighten around his sharp undercut. he moans into your cunt, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body.

from then on, nanami kento always got an undercut.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki who breaks his sleep schedule ONLY on your birthday because he wants to be sure he’s the first one to text you.

at exactly midnight .on.the.dot. you get a string of messages from your boyfriend saying :

“happy birthday, moron.”

“i love you and all that stupid mushy shit”

“you better say it back. fucked up my sleep for you.”

“❤️”

he doesn’t even care if you’re already asleep, he’s already sure he was the very first one to text you but if you are still awake he’s even more proud cause you saw it happen. him who you (and his friends) tease all the time for going to sleep at like 8:30 sharp stayed up doing fuck all just to be the first to wish you a happy fucking birthday.

so yeah, you bet your ass he’s proud. and he’ll go to sleep and knock out immediately with a smirk on his face when you text him a “thank you sm, katsuki !!! i love you sosooososos much💕💕”

“yeah you better. go to bed, g’night <3”

n’ yeah okay, maybe he’ll be a bit crankier than usual, but it’ll be worth it seeing how bright you smile and jump to hug him, kissing all over his cheek with thank you’s and love you’s.

he’ll just take it out on kaminari.

[swordsandholly]

Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.

Total ditz to be precise.

But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.

Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?

Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.

Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.

Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.

Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.

After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.

[bkgsdoll]

katsuki thinks it's fucking crazy whenever you get cuteness aggression from him-- a large, brawny, 6'2 boulder who isn't "cute" in any sense!

he may not openly admit it, but he adores when you excitedly rush into the shared bedroom where he's reading on his kindle, glasses perched on his nose. your face radiates with lovey dovey affection as you enter his space. and he loves it even more when you set aside his kindle and climb into his lap, covering his face in sweet smoochies. you wrap your arms around his thick neck and squeeze his body close. you adorably squeal, "missed you so much baby..!", filling up the room (and his swelling heart). you pull back to glance at his face where you're met with an uncharacteristic expression of fluster from your boyfriend.

"...my cutieee!!" you giggle, snuggling into him once more.

and the blond can't even say anything beyond a bashful, "love ya, sweets" cuz he just can't fathom the amount of joy he feels when you express your love for him.

[starsofang]

Price loves his sweet wife, all smile and charm, all pretty and wits. But oh, does he love when she gets mad.

He doesn’t mean to get you riled up, but he also doesn’t mean for his pants to get all tight and uncomfortable when it happens. He doesn’t mean a lot of things, actually—just like how he didn’t mean it when he told you about an old broad that made numerous attempts to sweeten him up down at the bar his crew often resided.

There was no broad, nor was there anything but drunken laughter shared with his men.

But the sight of you, his precious wife, spouting out annoyed curses, rolling your pretty eyes until they nearly fell out your head, yapping on about how you’ll happily stomp that bitch in the curb the next time you see her? It’s like injecting him with a poison that had his dick growing so hard in his pants he could feel its own pulse.

Price had already married you, practically got on one knee to pop the question the moment you two met, but seeing that nasty side of you stirred something sinister in him. Naturally, he did everything he could to lure it out just to ease the aching need he had for you.

Sex with you was already spellbinding, but when you were flushed hot with bitter jealousy, pretty hands pressed firm against his chest as you slammed your hips down on his weeping cock in a repetitive motion was a sight he wished he could frame forever.

He’d never tell you that most (all) times, he was only telling you little, white lies to get your rage pumping. It was his dirty secret.

You certainly never seemed to mind taking it out on him, which was exactly the goal. Hell, you even let him paint your walls pearly white as an apology for getting so worked up, something so utterly rewarding to him.

He loved this calm life with you. Wouldn’t change a thing about it. But the occasional angry wife, spitting burning fire and only egging him on? Yeah, that was something he didn’t mind becoming a routine, so long as his cock was the thing you were using as your release.

[sexlapis]

obsessed with the idea of nanami just putting you on his lap whenever he gets the chance 💭

watching tv? you’re on his lap watching whatever he’s watching. working at his desk in his office? you’re on his lap watching him scribbling all over random paper work you couldn’t care less about. you’re playing video games? you’re on his lap just because he wants to watch you play the game you like spending his money on. you’re on the phone? he’s putting you one his lap, so now you’re both on the phone. you’re doing work? yeah, you’re on his lap and his chin is looking over your shoulder to admire your writing. you just got back from work? he’s putting you in his lap and listening to you talk about your boss and annoying coworkers.

just nanami putting you on his lap whenever he wants to!

ps i made a little fic abt it <3

[lightseoul]

a/n. second time writing from bkg's perspective. this was so fun! (1.1k)

the moment that cemented bakugou’s resolve to marry you wasn’t exactly grand.

it wasn’t your first kiss.

or the first time you made love to each other.

not even the first time you met his nerd-ass friends or his (slightly) overbearing parents. although those two come as close runner-ups.

no, it was rather a random saturday morning after you spent a night at his place, now clad in what he thinks is nothing but your intimates and a burnt orange t-shirt of his that drapes loosely over your frame.

and as he enters the kitchen and closes the distance between the two of you with a few strides, he can’t help but wonder what you’re doing—deeply focused on your laptop—when you’re probably the one who’s extra pedantic about not bringing work home.

“morning,” he grunts, leaning down to kiss your cheek, which you happily accept. although, to his chagrin, your eyes remain on your computer screen, not even sparing him a single glance.

he knows it’s fucking embarrassing, how strongly you elicit feelings within him without you even fucking trying, but he can’t stop the frown that takes over his face even if he attempted to fight it.

shaking off the irrational disappointment from not even being ignored, he rounds the kitchen island and starts brewing the two of you coffee.

“by the way,” he starts, glancing at you over his shoulder, “the old hag’s birthday is coming up. she wants to have dinner with just the four of us, or some shit.”

“i know,” you simply pipe up from where you’re seated on one of his fancy bar stools, gaze still glued on whatever the fuck it is that’s keeping your attention from him.

he turns to you, a manual coffee grinder in tow. “you do?”

at that, you finally look up at him, an innocent expression etched across your features. “you don’t remember? i asked you when your parents’ birthdays were way back in march.”

way back in march.

back when you unanimously decided to decisively end the dating phase and become boyfriend-girlfriend.

“yeah?” is the only thing he manages to get out.

you let out a soft laugh that’s nothing but music to his ears. “yeah, dummy.”

before you can get to see the red that’s most definitely creeping up to his cheeks, bakugou turns his back against you, returning to busying himself with crushing the beans into fine powder and pouring lukewarm water into the machine.

only a few months before reaching a full year together, and you still manage to make him fucking blush.

over the most mundane things, too.

when he first got into his very first relationship with you at the ripe age of 28, he thought he’d outgrown and was way past the embarrassing shit that the human body was capable of when dealing with anything remotely close to romance.

it didn’t take him long enough into your relationship to find out he was so, so wrong.

sighing, he pours out the cup of ground beans onto the filter, finally pressing the button and bringing the coffee maker to life.

you must be done with what’s highly likely is work by now.

but chancing a glance at you, he’s once again met with palpable disappointment when the very same sight greets him.

before he can rein them in, the words come tumbling out of his lips.

“the fuck is so important on that laptop?”

his booming voice must’ve caught you off guard, because you startle ever so minutely in your seat.

“sorry,” he quickly adds on, albeit through a mutter; frustration with himself and his inability to modulate his voice added to the increasingly long list of emotions he’s having to fucking deal with right now.

waving him off, you shoot him another one of that disarming smile of yours. “‘s funny that you ask. i was just about to ask you for your opinion.”

with that, you gesture him to come close with your fingers. curious, he once again rounds the island, ultimately occupying the spot to your right and leaning down to peer at the small text on your screen.

before he can even get a word in, you hurriedly explain yourself. “mitsuki-san mentioned her personal sewing machine broke, so i’ve been thinking about getting her a new one.”

you point to a sleek, off-white model among what looks to be a vast array of selections, “i researched the specs and i think this one’s the best. what do you think?”

a million things course through his mind in an instant, but what he ends up sputtering out is: “you’re such a fucking nerd, you know that?”

at that, you look up at him, your seemingly perpetually moisturized lips now formed into a playful pout, and it takes everything in him not to just pull you in for a kiss and completely abandon the conversation in its entirety.

but he’d like to think he at least has the slightest bit of self-control.

even if you do wear him the fuck out on a daily basis.

“i just want to make sure it’s perfect!” you argue, shifting to stare at your laptop again and bringing him back to the present. your voice is way smaller when you continue. “…i want her to like me.”

he doesn’t even miss a beat. “she already fucking does, dumbass.”

and she really does.

the morning after bakugou first brought you to meet his parents a whopping two months into calling it official, mitsuki texted him something along the lines of having the family heirloom slash ring already adjusted to fit your finger.

he immediately called the old hag after receiving the message just to reprimand her ear off for being too fucking forward and for meddling too much.

but, if he were to be completely honest with himself, he was angry not because mitsuki was imposing, but because he couldn’t believe his mother beat him to that important realization.

the realization that maybe, just maybe, you’re the one.

and now, as he studies you as you scroll through more and more iterations of the best sewing machines on the market with your eyebrows adorably furrowed in utmost concentration, it dawns on him.

it dawns on him that that maybe just turned into a definitely.

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon

˖⁺‧₊ this one made me smile like an idiot while writing lmao. as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 have a nice day!

[ayyy-pee]

nanami tells you he loves you for the first time when he knows you can't hear him. you've dozed off in the middle of your movie night...again, popcorn fallen to the floor and kernels scattered. which isn't much of a surprise to him. in fact, you fall asleep during almost every movie night. work has been hard on you lately and you just can't seem to stay awake long enough to finish a movie.

it doesn't annoy nanami either. he finds it quite endearing, really and often finds himself observing the pretty way your lashes fan across your face. how your lips do this cute little pouty thing that makes him want to kiss you. how sometimes you snore (but he'd never tell you he knows that). he can't get enough of you. it only confirms what he'd known only two weeks into dating.

he loves you

there are not many things in this world nanami fears, but he does fear scaring you off by falling too hard, and falling too fast. he does fear you not returning his feelings. and he even fears how intense this love he has for you is. but, he couldn't have avoided it if he tried. before he knew it, he was already smitten with you.

and it's still far too early for him to build up the courage to say these three little words to you when you're wide awake and able to respond (the most terrifying part to him), but he knows what he feels. that's one thing nanami is absolutely certain of.

so when you nuzzle further into his chest tonight, the noise of the television fades into the background for nanami, and he finds himself leaning down to press his lips to the crown of your head where he whispers, so so softly, "I love you."

a part of him wishes you'd hear it, surprise him by opening your eyes and smiling up at him. maybe tell him you love him, too. but your soft and even breaths tell him you're deep into dreamland.

'that's alright,' he thinks. because he's certain of his love for you, and he's sure that one day he'll be brave enough to tell you just how certain he is.