#maybe that's when i made him cookies.................................

[dilf-docs]

hii i just read ur eddie x young reader. And i LOVE ITTTT

Can u please do something similar but with young neighbor reader? Where the reader moves in an apartment beside eddie . They meet each one day and they hit it off? (nsfw )

(Ignore this if u don’t like the idea or u can change it)

Knockin' On Heaven's Door

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

summary: you're what people call a ray of sunshine, probably the most likeable person in the planet. so why is this hot idiot next door so mean to you?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (you know this blog lives by its name), smut, sunshine!reader x grumpy! eddie (cause his ass just got dumped lol), enemies to lovers (one-sided), kinda mean!eddie, porn with little to no plot, power goes out so they get freaky in the dark, use of pet names, p. in v. (unprotected) (use protection guys pls!!! unlike this dumbasses fucking raw in the dark), oral (m. receiving), creampie, no venom :(

word count: 4,069 words (it's almost midnight again, me thinks I've forever messed up my sleep schedule cause ain't no way inspo only grows as per my eyebags lol)

side note: got my first request on tumblr!! (insert scarlett johanson dancing in marriage story gif). i love looove the neighbours trope so much (hey! if i had a hot older neighbour i would be doing the most to interact with them, bet); hope this lives up to ur expectations even if i tweaked a few things! also, this happens after eddie gets dumped by anne and moves out of the house lol so he's angry, moppy, horny and dry. what if i make this a series tho, would you like that? requests are open!

You're what people call a ray of sunshine. Ever since you managed to talk, all that comes out of you is happiness: the first sound to come out of your mouth was a laugh, your first word was smile, you have Love as your second name, you made friends on real time record, the profession you chose was that of a patissier and the first ink to grace your skin was a little heart tattoo.

Okay, maybe you've made it your whole personality to be likeable. So what? It's not your fault you light up every place you go, that people love you effortlesly and that life seems to smile your way.

It's the way the cookie crumbles, a fitting phrase for a pastry chef like you. Your friends often joked about it: you, a sweet person, baking little sweet goods to make other's lives sweeter.

And you loved it: your life, your job, your family, friends, cat and little apartment in San Francisco.

There was just one thing missing: because no matter how sweet you made other's peoples worlds by existing, no one was there to make it for you.

Alright, you had enough love and just loved love for the sake of it. Sometimes, a tidbit of romance through your screen or through the couple-d lives of your friends sufficed such desire, but its a lie to say you haven't dreamed of your own.

So when Johanna, the girl who lives across you, comes rushing with the newest gossip: "hot new neighbour moving next door!", there's something that tells you it might be time.

"You have to see him" she emphasizes, "a total eye candy"

That ignites the curiosity inside you, and after some weeks hearing through your walls grunts next door and a constant shuffle of things originally packed in boxes, you find yourself knocking on his door, tray of cookies in your hands.

Yes, you did bake them for him. After all, your chocolate chip cookies are a killer! People do lines to get them at your aunt's cafeteria, just to taste the warm soft dough, the chocolate melting on their mouths. You do this for every other new neighbour that comes around, it's just how you are! But the cookie choice is totally intentional though.

The door flinges open, and for the very first time in years, you find yourself at loss for words; speechless.

The stranger before you is a face you'll never forget. Handsome, of course, but there is something alluring in his beauty, one you can't exactly name, but comes along in a pair of thick lips, brown warm eyes and ink sprinkled across strong arms. Your heart hammers in your chest, and it takes all in you to not drop the tray in your chest right here and now.

"Hey!" you find your voice again. Clearing your throat, you proceed. "You're our new neighbour, right? I'm y/n, I live next door. Thought you'd like something sweet to eat after all that effort" you push the tray to the front, "I made this myself!"

He just stares back, blinking. You think he may be confused by your random act, but it's quite normal to do so with newbies. You love welcoming acts!

The awkward stiffness he radiates doesn't deter you away, though. "This are for you" you insist, "or just take one, if you don't want them all..."

"I hate chocolate" he finally says, with such a scowl on his face, you'd think you killed his entire family.

Oh! He hates chocolate? Who hates chocolate?!

You suddenly feel small and stupid. Without much else to say, you don't know how to proceed. You have your way with words, but no one has ever rejected you in the cold open before. It's left you baffled.

Then, a light bulb goes on in your head.

"Wait, I know you!" he quirks an eyebrow. "You're that reporter from TV, Eddie Brock" you gush, "I love helping others, but what you do is amazing... you're, like on other level, giving a voice to those who don't have one"

You admired him; he was someone who was brave and cared.

"Not anymore" and then the door slams in your face.

It takes you a while to process there, standing in the eerie silence of the empty hall, that Eddie Brock may be the very first person in the world who doesn't like you.

In the end, you'd given the batch of cookies to the homeless people living around your building. Even if it made you feel good, the pang in your chest didn't go away. You simply couldn't forget about the incident (because of pride and embarrasment in equal parts), plus, the fact that he lived next door and you couldn't go on about your day without hearing him pace around his apartment, made the task of forgetting about it difficult.

So in the following days you've avoided him, which has been pretty easy so far, since he barely leaves his apartment and you're busy with work and stuff.

It's friday night, and with the next week's groceries in hand, you take the elevator. The door's about to close when it opens again. You can't believe it: after successfuly evading him for five days, Eddie Brock is trapped with you inside the reduced space; you shouldn't been lazy and taken the stairs instead.

"'Night" he mutters, and you swear you've gone deaf because you barely hear so. You don't know what to do, so you just stand there, clutching your tote bag a little too hard. It could be an accident: he's too drunk out of his mind and doesn't know it's you.

It's not like he's been so nice, but after his asshole-ish move last time you saw each other, you don't expect basic courtesy towards you either.

You get a whiff of his scent, mixed with traces of whiskey. It's unfair how intoxicating it feels―how it's got you wanting more of what isn't yours.

God knows it's been long enough since you've wanted a man this bad.

It's not until the elevator dings again that you realize you've been holding your breath the entire time.

"Bye, pretty"

He casually exits out into your same floor never looking back, without realizing the effect his words have on you, hope slowly making its way through the creaks of your open heart.

Okay, maybe it's your fault for raising such high stakes based on two words and a silly little drunk interaction. Maybe you deserve it: because you've become a bit obsessed with the fact that Eddie hates you, but after yesterday, you've already traced a truce in your mind.

Even Johanna has told you to be cool about it. "It's time someone didn't like you" she joked, but you didn't find it funny. She insisted it's not important, but to you it is! How can he not like you? Maybe if he had a valid reason, you'd stop insisting, despite the let down. But he doesn't have one! And you've been nothing but kind! You think too much about it because it doesn't make any damn sense: you're loosing your mind and your friend just laughs.

The only reason you haven't talked to him again, is because work load has catched up to you.

But now you're here, out on the street, and the first person you see is him: on top of his bike, ready to go out.

"Nice!" you chirp. It may not be a top brand, but the black vehicle is as cool as its owner: the leather jacket, worn out jeans and beat up look is an insane combination that may or may not have you drooling.

"Huh?" he looks back at you, and you swear your cheeks reddened in embarrasment at his deadpan expresion.

"Nice bike, I mean" you nervously laugh, fiddling with a loose string of your sweater. "I love seeing them, but I don't think I'll ever ride one. I get scared too easily, you know?"

He puts his helmet on, "Alright"

Not even a thanks or an attempt of a small talk; what an idiot. Didn't he talk to you last time? Called you pretty? Why is he acting so curt right now?

"Hey, what is your pro-"

Your question doesn't get to be finished, because the engine roars and he's out of there, leaving you confused inside a cloud of smoke, the trail leaving with your last sparks of hope.

It's one of those nights where you just want to lay down and let sleep take control of your body. As soon as you get in your comfy pajamas and sink in the mattress, a noise erupts through the air. Startled, you raise on your feet, the slumber long gone.

Fuck. This hasn't been your week, has it?

The noise comes from outside, and you know who it is: the guy who lives in the corner, right next to the window; he who brings too many women home and plays his guitar a little too loud. It's late an he isn't getting the memo, clearly.

You swing your door open, ready to give him a piece of mind (and perhaps dump your accumulated stress from the week), until you realize you aren't the only one outside on the hall. It's Eddie, and he looks just as pissed as you do.

"Can't sleep?" he asks in a mocking tone, all while avoiding your eyes, rather focused on the common enemy's door.

"What do you think?" you reply, equaling his tone.

You both agree in silence, walking to his door. After some knocking, the guy opens his door: less thrilled when he sees Eddie and more complaint when he sees you.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll keep it down" and winks. The nerve of this guy. Even Eddie is frowning, surely annoyed at his lack of etiquette. "You can knock anytime, noise or not".

The door closes, but it's Brock who did it, not guitar guy. You're too tired to ask, and after picking what's left of your dignity around him, you decide it's best to walk back to your apartment.

"You know what's funny?" you stop your tracks, laughing, but it's devoid of amusement, "I lost my sleep".

He just stares back, and you're tired of the way conversations have to run by your side, for the very first time. You keep on walking, but as soon as your hand touches your doorknob, he speaks up:

"Goodnight" a small truce, you think. But you're not falling this time.

So you do the right think: walk inside without saying a word, and just like him, never looking back.

You wake up agitated in the middle of the night. It's raining: not just a normal rain but a huge storm. You look over at your alarm, noticing its characteristically red numbers are as pitch black as the sky above you. It's also thundering, and God, do you hate noises and thunder.

You jump again at another one cutting through the sky, and decide it's for the best to just stay awake until it's time to wake up. According to your phone, you have about three hours until morning rises. That's enough time to watch a movie or two. Even to pet your cat, which is laying next to your bed, clearly unbothered―unlike his owner.

But there's a problem: when you try to turn the switch, no lights go on. Your incredulous laugh ecos in the room.

Not only a storm, but also a fucking black out.

Scare slowly creeps up, and the shivers you feel are definitely not only because of the temperature drop.

So you grab your phone and head out, without clearly thinking and obviously in panic, because the first thing you do is knock on your neighbour's door.

Eddie's.

"Oh!" it takes a while for him to answer his door, but when he does, his phone's flashlight burns your eyes. "Sorry" he apologizes, and you don't know if it's for that or the fact he didn't answer; maybe for everything too, "didn't hear the knocking with all the thunder".

You say it's fine, that you're just checking to see if you're not the only one without light.

He flicks a nearby switch to no avail, "I'm afraid everyone in the whole building too"

Eddie probably notices your frightened state, the way you shiver like a lost puppy, and feels sorry.

"Wanna come inside?" he offers, hands inside his grey sweater's pockets.

For the very first time since you met him, he looks at you, but really looks at you: eyes roaming over your body, an all too familiar feeling painted across his brown orbs.

You realize a bit late what you're wearing: a teensy short and top, a set of pajamas that happens to be your most comfortable. Favorite too. Appropiate for this emergency meeting? Maybe not.

"You want me to?" you asked, confused. "I thought you hated me"

The only sound across the hall is the droplets of rain outside, some tapping in the window next to you and his apartment.

He looks rather embarrased, "I don't".

"Then you're just an idiot" you counter back, and he doesn't fight you about it.

"Fair" he says, "I can make some coffee?"

Maybe he's pretty convincing or you're a people pleaser, but as soon as he proposes, you're caving in just like that.

"Fine, but you better let me bring my cat"

Truth is, Muffin plays hard to get, but now he's resting in Eddie's lap―purring, as you two sip quietly on your coffee. Traitor.

"I used to have a cat" he says, cutting through the silence.

"Oh!" you leave your mug on his table, next to the candle; the only source of light in the room, "didn't think of you as a cat person".

"Tecnically, it belongs to my fiancée. Sorry, ex-fiancée" he makes a pause, "bet that cat doesn't miss me".

"I didn't know you had a, uh-" you're not sure how to proceed, so you trail off. Muffin jumps from Eddie's lap to the kitchen, lost in the dark.

"Yeah, I had a fiancée, cat, house, and job. Then I lost everything" he dry chuckles, humorlessly, "guess that's why I'm so bitter"

"I'm sorry" you say on the most sincere tone you can muster. Eddie wonders how can you be so kind and forgiving, especially after he's been nothing but an asshole to you.

"Doesn't mean I should've been a douchebag for no reason. You didn't deserve it" he apologizes, embarrased.

You stay in silence for some more time but then he says: "Not an excuse, but it's been real bad days"

The candlelight is so flickering, you don't know if he's seen your eyes, but by the way he gulps, you think he did.

"Maybe... I could offer a helping hand"

Why had you said that? Are you out of your mind? You barely know the guy, who, by the way, had been a jackass to you like, five minutes ago. But he's hot! And you love to help!

Jesus, talk about dignity and boundaries.

"Y-you would?" he stammers, but the way his hand travels to your lap reveals nothing but security.

He's not asking if you've gone insane or what exactly you mean by that: he's just asking if you would do it.

Would you help?

"Don't you know, Eddie?" your voice drops a sultry octave, "I love to help".

You lean close enough for him to smell the cinammon scent of your skin. Soon, he's leaning too, playing along even against his better judgment. It's too soon, but he's so drawn into you and can't resist it no more; ever since he met you.

His cock twitches in his pants, "help me, then"

It happens too fast, one second you're sipping on your coffee, looking like the most warm and softhearted person in the world and now you're on your knees, deep into his carpet, tugging at his belt with your teeth, a hunger he hasn't seen before in your eyes and filthy needy mouth.

Sex with Anne was sweet and normal. Vainilla. You smell like it too, but there's a difference: you have the appetite of a siren.

Using your hands, you remove the leather your teeth had beggin with, moving them to tug his ripped jeans down, pulling the zipper too in the process. You keep using your mouth, now to get rid of his boxers, where the outline is tight over his cock. Eddie finds himself so aroused to the point he feels hot, even if there's a storm outside and the candle barely provides warmth.

"You sure have a mouth" he mumbles in ecstasy, drunk in the sight of your glimmering lips, coated in saliva. He's dripping too: everywhere.

His cock bounces out, almost hitting you in the face.

"Look at you" you coo, "already dripping for me. What a pretty cock you've got, Mr. Brock"

Fuck, he's going to hell after this. But you can't corrupt what's already corrupted.

"Then you better show me what you mean"

You lick the tip, already leaking with precum. He tenses momentarily, and then stiffle a moan when you take his balls into your mouth, a similar sound coming from you. You suck lightly at them, running your tongue along the sensitive skin.

His hips buckle into your face, and you have to chuckle at the fact it's probably the first time he's ever has his dick sucked this good.

"Don't stop" he huffs.

You obey, tongue tracing along the underside of his cock until you're back at his tip. Eddie's still inside his drunk haze when he feels you taking all of him inside your mouth in one single movement.

"Fuck-!" he chokes out, the thunder outside shutting the vulgar sounds coming out of his plush lips. "Think you can take more?"

His large hand touches the back of your head and pushes it forward with force. His cock presses deeper into your throat, tip hitting the back of it. You feel yourself gag, but the wet spot that's starting to form in your panties says otherwise.

He twists your hair tightly, holding you in place as he fucks your throat with his cock. You feel tears, and Eddie thinks he's never had a prettier sight than you: glossy eyes, looking up to him as you take all his cock.

"I know you can, baby" he presses, "help me like you said you would, yeah?"

His fat cock is blocking your air supply, but the subtle motivation and praise in his eyes is enough to keep you going, thought your throat ends up bulging from the size of his cock, stretching out to accommodate his size.

You said you would help, right? And even if you always do it for the altruist reward, something about being used in such a vulgar and rough way has your chest and panties feeling warm.

Brock groans, body sweating and muscles tense. He yanks you up by your hair, chasing the orgasm like an animal, every movement feeling almost primal.

"Stay there" he feels it coming, "don't move".

You gurgle something, spit rushing down your chin and dripping onto your chest.

"It's almost over, sweetheart" his eyes roll back, head resting on the coach he'd barely used until now, where he's fucking you in the mouth, "I knew that filthy mouth of yours could take me"

You open your mouth wider, anticipating. Tension releases: and he's pounding out his orgasm in your throat, hips banging into your face. You swallow it all, even if you can't taste it since he was so deep in you. He pulls out, a string of spit connecting his tip with your lips.

"Thanks" his voice comes out rough, "you do know how to help those in need"

You wipe your chin with your hand, voice hoarse, "I suppose"

There's some silence afterwards, and now Eddie is cursing he doesn't know what else to say.

"Power is still out" he speaks, "we've got some hours left until the sun rises again"

"So what's your idea?" you giggle, "tell scary stories in the dark?"

You both laugh, but you stop and deadpan. "Please don't, I get scared very easily" and you pout those pretty lips of yours out. How can you be such an adorable but greedy girl? It's hard to believe you're the same person.

"Not that" he swallows thickly. Why is he doing this? Was a blowjob (a fantastic blowjob, by the way) by a young insatiable thing like you enough to make him go mad? "I want to help you too".

Before you protest, he's pulling you and sealing your lips with a hot kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, playing with it. He pulls out, biting your lower lip.

"Eddie" you whine, "b-bed, now"

He's supposed to be older and smarter, so why is his resolve melting away this quickly? Following your orders immediately, your back bouncing on the soft mattress of his bed. As soon as you lay, his lips trail kisses down your throat.

"God, you smell so good" you giggle, "bet this pussy will taste as sweet, huh?"

His cold fingertips grace the fabric of your tiny shorts and the touch gives you goosebumps, "look at you" he tugs your panties, nudging at your cunt. "So soaked... is this for me, baby?"

"Yes, Eddie" the way you say his name is enough to make even the strongest man fold, his dick jolting in response. "Take it"

Both of you remove your clothes in such a hurry, you hope you haven't damaged your favorite pair of pajamas.

"Let me see her" he demands, so you spread your legs, revealing your dripping pussy.

When you kiss again, the underlying carnal desire is mutual, saliva connecting in a silver thread as you both gasp for aire. Your hands wander across his chest, fingers playing with his tensing muscles.

"I promise to reward her, okay?" he lines his cock up with your entrance, the fat tip nudging against you, sticky with precum.

You're desperate with anticipation, practically begging, "please do".

He pushes inside you fully, balls slaping against your sticky clit hard. He’s so deep, pushing against your cervix and stretching you out with each thrust, making even the task of breathing painful and laborious.

Brock feels like he's ruined you, yet you look rather content. You've been used to giving; your kindness of a caretaker nature. You're used to giving your all and not receiving, so with every new thrust against you, his hips slamming, you know you'll never feel this pleasure again with anyone else, the delicious sense hitting you in waves that make you feel dizzy. So, in a way, he has ruined you.

"That desperate for me to fill you?" there's no answer, but the sound of rain and skin clapping against skin.

"Yes, give it to me” you sob, "Eddie, please!"

"Focus on taking it" he guides you. It may make him a pervert, but he isn't changing the sheets any time soon; they'll be covered in you and he'll smell them everytime he gets inside them. "I'm gonna cum"

You moan, lightly tugging at the strands of damp hazel hair. He chokes out a husky groan, heat pooling on his stomach.

Eddie's dick twitches inside you, cum filling your eager insides with the biggest load you’ve ever felt. Your pussy clenches, spasming, wrapping tighter around his length in a needy way, your high coming almost at the same time.

Both your breathes come out in ragged pants. He nuzzles against your neck, skins equally damped.

"Fuck"

As soon as those words leave his mouth, the power returns. You should go now, as this is the reason you stayed, but none of you make the move to leave.

"Stay?" he pleads, "It's still raining outside"

How can you say no to those brown puppy eyes? Does he think he can fuck you this good and then make you leave?

"Alright" you swear he smiles, and it's the prettiest smile you've seen in your life. Could you fall this easily in love? "But turn off the lights: I have work tomorrow and need some sleep"

"Whatever you say, baby" he nips at your lower lip, "you know I love to help"

[buckysfaveplum]

doomsday

summary: missions don't always go according to plan, sometimes you lose people- that's the job. bucky told you that himself.

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3k

warnings: violence, character death, um yea this one's sad. OH and Steve is dead in this (I mean he was like 90 something in endgame...)

a/n: GUYS omg i missed youuu i hope you remember me. its been like almost two years? i moved to ireland and started grad school! things are different. buttt here’s a new fic cause i’m back!!! ANGST omg im sorryyyy.... idk I wanted to right something that hurt okay okay bye (:

masterlist | send requests

You hated funerals. 

The suffocating smell of formaldehyde and roses wafted through the wake hall. The sounds of distant friends and relatives feigning grief, playing up small interactions with the deceased as more than just pleasantries while siblings and best friends' voices seem to be gone with a lack of words to express their suffering. The stale cookies and donuts in the hall, as if someone’s lover isn’t lying in a casket 50 feet away. All wrapped up in black dresses, suits, and handkerchiefs.

You hated funerals.

Today was no exception. An agent lost on a routine mission in Guam, taking out an arms dealer terrorizing a village. There were loose connections to Hydra, but just petty violence and shootouts for nothing. It shouldn’t have resulted in the loss of an agent. But sometimes things go wrong. A gun barrel stalls, someone trips, a civilian happens to be in the way. Sometimes people die. That’s how you ended up here.

Sarah was a good agent, a great one. She was top of her class at Westpoint, went straight to the FBI, and was recruited into SHIELD- all before 30. She was good- too good for a slip-up like this.

As speeches wrapped up, family and friends began to say their goodbyes. A line formed at the casket as people poured their hearts out for the redhead you once called a friend. You waited patiently at the back, making sure you were one of the last. You always did. Maybe out of respect, perhaps guilt? Who knows. You always felt guilt, even if there was nothing to be done. There was guilt.

Finally, as the small crowd left the room, flooding into the hall outside, you made your way to the front. Laid out before you, Sarah’s curly and wild hair was in two thick braids on each side of her head, a blue dress covering her as well as a soft cream cardigan. She looked beautiful and peaceful. But she was dead. Your friend was dead. No makeup or pretty clothes would lessen that blow. The plush velvet of the casket seemed to soften the prison that her body would rest in. At every funeral, you were reminded of how you wished to be cremated.

“I’ve never seen her hair so flat,” you turned to see Bucky standing beside you.

“You know, even wet her hair always seemed to spring up. Had a mind of its own,” you said, your gaze resting on him.

He was clad in a simple black suit, an older set you’d gotten him at a vintage shop. Something familiar. A simple cream button-down, no tie. It was simple, but that was him. What was most striking though was his serene demeanor. It never seemed to settle with you how unaffected by death he was. How easily he was able to gather himself and keep going. You couldn’t blame him though, 90 years of pain, death, torture, and violence will do that to you. You’d only seen him torn up once. And it was beyond devastating. Steve. “You okay, kid?” he asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

He was your partner, in every sense of the word. In the field, as a friend, in life. He was everything. Your taut shoulders melted under the firm comfort of his vibranium arm. You could rest in its embrace a thousand times and never cease to crave its solace when away. He was your rock through every debriefing, call to family, black dress, and smeared mascara. Who knows what you would be without him?

You rested your head on his chest, breathing in the potent smell of his old cologne and something that was distinctly Bucky. 

“I hate funerals.”

——

“Do you ever think about dying?”

Bucky’s grip on you tightened slightly at your words. Wrapped in the soft linen of your duvet and the sunlight streaming in through your windows, his body lay around yours. His short choppy locks were tousled fresh from his slumber. The previous night’s sleep had yet to let go of his consciousness fully, still cozy and relaxed in your shared bed. His vibranium fingers continued to play with your hair as he considered your question.

“Not anymore,” he said.

Your face scrunched in confusion at his words. Your fingers traced gently over the thick scars on his left shoulder. They mangled and twisted, sprouting in angry red from the line where his skin met vibranium. Shuri had done her best to soften the tissue when replacing his arm, but only so much could be done.

“I did a lot when I was first drafted. I was scared of it then. And in those early days under Hydra. It was all-consuming. But at some point, I wasn’t scared of it, I embraced it- prayed for it,” your fingers froze at his words. It was nothing new to you, you had spent countless late nights and early mornings recounting the abuse of his days as the Winter Soldier. But hearing him say flat out how he wished to die. That was jarring. “After the Blip, I’ve just become a bit numb to it. I don’t really think about it if that makes sense. It could always happen.”

His hands danced down your spine as if his words were simple.

“You expect it?” You asked, propping yourself up on your elbow.

“It’s the job, Y/N. It comes with the territory. Sometimes you lose people. And it could always be you,” he said, giving you a soft look. “You know that, doll”.

“I just, I don’t expect it in the field you know?” you relaxed a bit, regretting the subject you forced upon him.

“Hey, maybe that wasn’t the best way to put it,” he said, giving you a ginger smile as he leaned close and cupped your cheeks in his hands. “Death has just followed me for a long time, doll. I mean I’m a 106. I’m just not scared of it anymore.”

You tucked yourself into his chest, his words soothing the fears swirling in your mind. You knew the job was dangerous. That any mission could be the last. You just hoped it would never be him.

“Why do you always pick the heaviest topics of discussion early in the morning?” he asked, his voice still groggy from sleep. He smiled as you chuckled against his chest. 

“Probably cause I’m hungry, Plum,” you said, turning to lay on your back as you smiled up at him. 

“Yea? What could we do about that, huh?” that devilish smirk of his could stop your heart anytime and you’d be grateful. “Pancakes? Clinton St?” 

You nodded eagerly at his suggestion before taking his hand and slipping from the bed.

——

The rumbling of the quinjet shot up your spine. Sam and Bucky’s relentless bickering filled the steel jet as you came closer to your destination. Your gloved hands worked at strapping your knives to your thighs as they quarreled over how best to stain wooden beams in Sam’s living room during your and Bucky’s next trip down to Louisiana.

“No! NO! Buck, that stain doesn’t go with the accent wood in the kitchen! I already told you,” Sam said as he fixed his shield to his back. You chuckled as you walked over to them. Your backup squad, full of agents fresh from SWORD’s training academy, snickered at the two men as Bucky rolled his eyes.

“The beams are in your living room, what does it matter?” He said. 

“I wouldn’t take any interior design advice from him, he wanted a purple couch in our living room,” you said, wrapping your arms around Bucky’s waist. Sam laughed as he turned to grab the mission report. The jet was drawing close, entering stealth mode and preparing for landing.

“It was a plum color,” Bucky grumbled, nuzzling his face into your hair. 

“Okay team, huddle up!” Sam said. “This is just a simple in and out. We gotta get these hostages out safely so no risky moves- I’m lookin’ at you, Buck.”

Bucky threw his hand up in defeat, scoffing jokingly under his breath. 

“I’ll swoop through and scout entrances, Squad Two you’ll be with me for direct combat. We’re clearing out the building. Squad One, you’ll be with Y/N and Bucky, you’re getting those hostages out. You bring them straight back here, got it? There’s four so it shouldn’t be too strenuous,” he said, closing up his report before slipping on his cowl. “Alright team, let’s show ‘em what we got.”

——

Fluorescent red light filtered across your face as you slipped through the hallways. Half the squad led ahead of you, banging on doors in search of the hostages. Bucky hung close behind you, the rest of your squad keeping your entrance open for your escape. His hand rested on the gun strapped to his hip as he kept an eye on your blind spots.

Watching your back on the field was second nature to him. Protecting you, be it on the subway or in an active battle zone, was something he felt born to do. A reason to survive all those years under Hydra.

After several doors, your team stopped; having heard the pleas for help on the other end of the steel doors, they backed up to allow room for an agent to blast the lock. You stumbled back into Bucky, tripping on your own feet. His arms caught you before you could even glance at the floor. You felt his fingers gripping your hips and fidgeting with the straps on your thighs as you straighten.

“Some reflexes you got,” you whispered to him.

“Can’t let my babydoll fall,” he said, kissing the back of your head before his focus shifted back to the lock, now falling to the floor.

The agents flooded into the room, pulling hostages out and bringing them back into the hall. As they streamed out, you realized something was wrong. You only counted 3.

“Where’s the fourth hostage?” you asked. 

Bucky commed Sam, hoping he’d scanned the place and found a lead. As he spoke, you gathered the agents, giving them an order. Lead them through the building, get out to the other half of the squad, and get them into the jet. You’d meet them on the other side. You and Bucky would find the last hostage. The agents fled, leaving you and Bucky alone in the dark hallway. 

“Where are they?” you asked. Bucky sighed, as he grabbed a knife from his hip.

“In the lab in the basement, must’ve been the first to get taken,” he said.

The hostages weren’t nobodies. Prisoners were taken from SWORD on a mission to squash a newly established radical group. A group that seemed to resonate with the ideas of Hydra. This mission was all too familiar to Bucky, and all the more upsetting. You gave his free hand a firm squeeze before you turned and bolted to the lab.

You could feel the heaviness of the lab as soon as you entered the basement. The looming presence of the sterile room filled the hallways as you stalked toward it. Bucky was unusually quiet as he covered you from behind. You knew this was triggering, it had to be. He would always tell you he was beyond triggered episodes, having gotten a firm grasp on his PTSD. But you knew better. The subtle tremor in his brow told you so.

As you reached the eerie room, you stilled. Bucky came up behind you, resting a hand on your waist as you assessed the space. Metal shelves lined the walls full of jars, syringes, and test tubes. Sleek steel tables with rags soaked in blood, white grimy cabinets full of scalpels and needles, and an operating table at the center. The floors were coated in grot, each crack in the tile stained brown. Your mind couldn’t help but wonder if this condition was what Bucky was used to for all those decades.

Realizing the area was clear, you entered. Quickly, you spotted the hostage. Strapped to a chair in the corner with an IV jabbed into his arm. Bucky squeezed your arm as he headed over, slipping his knife back on his hip. 

You felt a pit growing in your stomach. You pulled your gun gently. This hostage didn’t look familiar, you thought Sam said he was a brunette, not blonde.

Bucky began to break the straps holding the man down. Slipping the IV gently from his arms, Bucky eased him up into a sitting position. He spoke to the man calmly, explaining to him who you were and that he was here to get him out. He seemed off, but Bucky just assumed it was the experimentation. He was wrong.

“Do you know who we are?” Bucky asked, helping the man up.

“I know who you are, Soldat,” the man said.

A chill ran through your legs, almost toppling you over. You reached for your gun, but the man was quicker. He was able to log four bullets into Bucky’s chest before you could get one in his skull. 

Shots rang out in the room, flooding your ears. As soon as you pulled the trigger, the man fell to the ground. Your bullet nestled into the side of his head. Your hands were shaky as the gun fell from your grasp, clattering across the floor and sending echoes through the rotting room. Of course it was a trap. The rubber of your boots squeaked as you sprinted your way over to your lover. He stumbled back against the filthy wall, his hands pressing firmly on the holes scattered across his chest.

As soon as you reached him, his legs seemed to give out. Everything in you tried to keep him up, your hands gripping the straps of his suit to keep him from surrendering to the floor. But he was too heavy. You followed him down, gathering him in your arms and holding him close. His breathing was labored and rough. Squeaks and coughs escaping from his punctured lungs haunted your ears, taunting you as you desperately tried to get him to stand.

“Baby, baby come on… you gotta get up, love,” you said, pulling him as you tried to get his attention.

His eyes were fixed on the mess in his chest. Blood bloomed across the fabric of his blue suit like a watercolor painting. His hands slipped from their place over the wounds and grasped yours. 

“Y/N…” he said. You froze at his voice. It was weak and unsteady. His grip on your hand was tight, too tight. He was always so gentle with you. As if you were glass under his hands and he was afraid you cracked. Now, he gripped you so hard you were afraid your bones would fracture.

“Bucky, you gotta get up. You’re gonna be okay,” you said as you tried to stay calm, but your voice failed you. You commed Sam, “Sam, Sam! Bucky’s down, I need help please!” 

You tried your best to stop the bleeding, tearing fabric from your pants to stuff the wound and slow the blood. But it didn’t seem to help. Bucky’s vibranium hand rose to your cheek, holding you steady. You mumbled to yourself, beginning to panic as blood spilled onto your hand; it stained the groves in your knuckles and cakes in your fingertips. Bucky’s coughing finally brought you out of your spiral. Blood began to trickle from his mouth.

“Doll…I can’t- I can’t breathe,” he said, his voice hoarse from the blood filling his throat.

“Bucky, hang on for me okay, please,” you said, your hands grasping his face and pulling yourself closer. You pressed a firm kiss to his forehead. When you pulled back, you could see it in his eyes.

“Y/N, I’m scared…” you felt bile rise in your throat at his words. The reality of the situation began to set in. Sam’s glitchy voice rang through your coms but you barely registered it.

“You’re okay, plum. It’s okay, I’m here. You’re gonna be okay,” you said. Your voice was frantic and distraught. The need to reassure him he would make it was overwhelming. But was it for him or you? Perhaps if you kept repeating it, doomsday would stay at bay.

His hands returned to yours, grabbing them and pulling you close as another cough racked his body. Blood speckled across your hands. You were white in the face, all the color drained.

“I…I love you, kid,” he said, his grip loosening. 

“No, baby, you’re gonna be okay. Sam’s on the way, it’s-”

“Y/N, I love you,” your hands gripped his tighter, wishing the firm hold he had minutes ago would return as his hands became limp in yours.

“… I love you, Buck,” you said softly, resting your forehead on his.

You pulled him close, kissing his lips one last time. You felt his breathing slow, his lips still. You didn’t pull back, you couldn’t. You knew what would await. A thick sob slipped through your chest. 

You tucked yourself further into his body, pulling him close and wrapping your arms around him. His head rested tucked into the crook of your neck, your hand tangled into his hair. You closed your eyes as you pressed your face into his hair, your free hand stroking his back and you rocked his now limp body. And you waited for Sam.

——

The smell of formaldehyde was the same, but no roses- Bucky preferred lilacs. You didn’t want the standard service, but SWORD insisted. No speeches, except for the pastor leading the service. You didn’t want any speeches, you knew Bucky would agree. 

You sat in the back, behind the small crowd of agents, friends, and the team you had come to consider family. Sam kept looking over his shoulder, keeping an arm behind him and resting on your knee. Perhaps he was trying to stop its shaking through the service or just to bring you comfort.

The service was simple, it was quiet. It was small. But it didn’t change anything. 

You hated funerals.

**taglist has been reset! let me know if you'd like to be added**

[i-love-turtle-ducklings]

Momo & Lee from the Tea Shop (2)

Little addition to my Momo-adopts-Zuko-AU

Zuko's face is Momo's favorite place to sleep. It's not his problem that his tickling ears make Fire Guy sneeze or that his twitching paws keep him from sleeping. His hair is cozy and as you'd expect from a fire guy, he's warm, so for better or worse, Fire Guy has to put up with it.

Zuko comes to terms with it. Grudgingly. It's anything but ideal. If he's going to spend half the night looking for the Avatar or his bison, he could really do with a capful of sleep in the other half. But apparently the stupid lemur has other plans. And it appears to have a stunning talent for finding the positions that are most uncomfortable for Zuko.

The lemur puts Zuko's patience to the test. Fortunately for it, Zuko's a strict opponent of animal cruelty — which doesn't mean the thought of throwing a small fireball at the little pest isn't tempting sometimes.

It would be much easier to bear if it weren't for Uncle's comments. Zuko has a sneaking suspicion that Uncle is hiding berries in his bed to lure the lemur there. But he probably doesn't even need to. This stupid monkey has an unerring instinct for what he needs to do to really get on Zuko's nerves.

The lemur also has a good instinct for choosing the most annoying customers in the tea shop as victims for his cookie robberies. Okay, maybe Zuko can give him credit for that. Which doesn't mean he's growing fond of the pest!! Not at all!

Uncle doesn't believe him when he complains about what a nuisance that stupid monkey is. But what does Uncle know? Just because he's learned to sleep with a fur ball on his face doesn't mean he likes the lemur! And if Uncle claims that he smiles in his sleep when the lemur snuggles up to him, there must be something wrong with his eyes.

Right?

Okay, maybe he likes the lemur a tiny, tiny bit, maybe he smiles in his sleep, maybe he's started sleeping with his scar up when his little companion is around. Maybe he doesn't mind if the lemur snuggles up to him in his sleep or eats half his breakfast. Maybe it's even a bit of fun when the lemur turns the date Zuko never wanted to go on into a mess. (And it didn't matter. Jin thought the little chaos-lemur was adorable. Everyone did.)

Momo had definitely made a good choice to stick close to Fire Guy. The guy was a great pillow and Momo had access to a never-ending supply of tea and cookies with him. And sooner or later he would find Appa, Momo was sure of that. Until then, Momo could have been worse off.

Too bad that Fire Guy and Aang didn't get along. Momo would have loved if Fire Guy could have come with them after they found Appa. Maybe he just needed a little nudge in the right direction? If anyone could get Fire Guy to change sides, it was Momo.

Or: Momo adopts Zuko (against his will) and decides to redeem him (also against his will — but who is Zuko to argue with Momo?).

(I wish I had enough experience in this area to write a proper fanfic about it…)

[umbrella-show]

https://www.tumblr.com/umbrella-show/766905601979727872/httpswwwtumblrcomumbrella-show76562826466233?source=share

Ooooooooh I love it! Great now i wanna send this in as a genuine request of your requests are open...y/n can be timid or not depending on what you wanna do but still want twist where y/n was only crowned ruler so there is an excuse for y/n to stay in the castle and be cared for/watched over by all the cookies...like to expand and explain more...cookies claimed y/n is their ruler when in reality, the cookies are the ones making up laws/creating rules, doing all the stuff rulers do and y/n's job is just to sit there with their little crown, that the cookies made sure was very comfy for y/n, and accept affection and attention from the cookies lmao!

(Also now I can't help but imagine in a funny scenario like this...to give an example of what I had in mind lol...

Some bad guy cookie...maybe DE or shadow milk...will call em bad cookie as place holder:

Bad cookie: MWAHAHAHAHA!

*all the cookies panic!*

Gingerbrave: OH NO! IT'S (insert name!)

Bad cookie: IM HERE TO TAKE OVER THE KINGDOM-

*cookies still panic...some readying to fight and others running for their lives and others just having zero clue what to do!*

Bad cookie: -AND TAKE Y/N FOR MYSELF!

*Suddenly, all the cookies froze...and slowly turn to the bad cookie, all going dead quiet. The kingdom became so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.*

Bad cookie: what the-?

*suddenly, all the cookies whip out various weapons...either their signature weapons or torches and pitchforks.*

Gingerbrave: you messed up the moment y/n's name left your mouth....CHARGE!

*all the cookies of the kingdom absolutely SWARM the bad cookie.*

Bad cookie, not expecting all the cookies to share a braincell: SON OF A- OH DEAR WITCHES! AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

*Bad cookie screams in terror as they are now in the middle of a giant horde of angry cookies.*

Meanwhile...

Y/n: *was gaming...suddenly heard a little noise.* what was that?

Strawberry, who was sent to y/n earlier to distract them from the chaos outside: that was probably just the wind...say, how about we do this level next?)

And late reply is ok! I know life gets busy sometimes lol!

Kay i love this idea it made me laugh a little-

Have a short fic!

As you placed down another card on the table from your deck, you couldn't help but wonder. Is this all a ruler does? All the stories you’ve read about kings and queens usually had them attend to important affairs or run their kingdom. After becoming a ruler yourself, you found out that there wasn’t much you needed to do in the first place. All you really did was sit there and look pretty. Your friends, the Ancient cookies, who ruled their own kingdom, did more than you. They were more involved with actually running their kingdom. And you did practically nothing.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Pure Vanilla cookie said it was your turn again. Looking up at him, you saw him smiling at you with his deck of cards in his hands. He had an excellent poker face when it came to these sorts of games, you had learned. He always kept a gentle smile no matter what. You didn’t know whether it was an intimidation tactic or because he genuinely enjoyed playing these types of games.

You placed a card from your deck down on the table and took a few seconds to glance out of the window right in front of both you and Pure Vanilla cookie. It was a beautiful day. The vibrant blue sky, clear of any clouds, caused the sunlight to shine onto you and Pure Vanilla cookies from the window. You could hear birds chirping and leaves gently rustling from the light breeze.

As Pure Vanilla cookie had just placed down his card a sound made you perk up. It was quiet at first, but it grew louder as the source seemed to come closer to where you were. It almost sounded like..screaming? You looked out the window, searching for the noise. You were worried and confused. Was everything okay? Did something happen? Were people in danger? It wasn’t long until you saw what was happening.

Licorice cookie, with Bat-Cat and Choco Werehound Brute close behind, were all screaming and running from something. They just ran by, screaming their lungs out. A horde of cookies followed, yelling and brandishing their weapons. As they chased, you noticed and recognized them as almost all of the cookies in your kingdom, with Gingerbrave and his friends leading the charge. Heck, even some of the children such as Pancake and Cherry cookie were trailing along in the very back, but were determined to catch up.

As the horde passed, you could only sit in a state of shock with Pure Vanilla cookie, looking out the window with raised eyebrows while you attempted to process what you had just seen.

“Oh my. Seems as if that cookie caused quite the stir.”

Pure Vanilla said after a few seconds of stunned silence from the sight both he and you had just witnessed. However, his voice was as soft and tranquil as it always was.

“Well, Gingerbrave and the rest seem to have the situation under control.”

Pure Vanilla cookie then placed down a new card on the table, smiling at you with closed eyes as if nothing happened.

“Why don’t we continue from where we left off.”

BONUS

Licorice cookie scowled, muttering complaints as he brushed the leaves off of his robes. Bat-Cat and Choco Werehound Brute followed him, looking shaken up from their previous experience. Licorice cookie and his companions had narrowly escaped the insane cookies' anger. They had ran into the nearby forest on the outskirts of the kingdom, losing the horde in the trees. Now, they all trudged, defeated and shaken, back to the castle. Dark Enchantress cookie won’t be pleased, and Licorice was sure Pomegranate cookie would rub his loss in his face once he got back. The thought made him grip his bone scythe tighter in anger.

He may have failed to indoctrinate you into the Cookies of Darkness this time, but he promised he would get to you before Pomegranate cookie.

[cookiesandbiscuits]

Just... Friends?

Pairing: Leviathan x GN! Reader

Summary: You have always liked him. Maybe more than what most people would consider as friendship. And you have a feeling that he also feels the same way. Yet it's frustrating whenever he refers to you as just a friend even though his actions say otherwise.

Genre: Fluff. Maybe crack too if you squint at it hard enough.

A/N: This was sitting on my drafts for AGES!!

But after several editing and removing some stuff, I finally got this story to go in a direction that I like!

Although there is a specific scene here that made me feel hypocritical lmaooo.

Happy reading! ❤️

Warning:

- Not proofread.

- Cussing.

- Levi is as dense as a brick.

- The reader is frustrated and decides to take matters into their own hands.

- The reader is referred to as MC.

- Probably OOC. This is just unplanned fluff writing. Asmo is acting as your wingman.

MASTERLIST

Inspired by "Just A Friend To You" by Meghan Trainor and Adrien Agreste from Miraculous Ladybug (lol)

You were done.

With a tired sigh, you leaned back on the sofa and closed your eyes. You thought back on what happened earlier in Levi's room.

"Woooo!! Finally!!"

The room was filled with joyous shouts when the TV screen displayed the word "victory" in large letters.

"MC, we finally beat the boss!"

Soon, you were enveloped by a familiar warmth as Levi tightly wrapped his arms around you. You felt your cheeks heat up a little when you noticed that his embrace was a little longer than usual.

"Haha, yes, we did. Congratulations to both of us."

Levi gently pushed you away within arm's length and looked at you with a grin. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"Eh? But I haven't done as much as you, though."

Levi shook his head in response. "That's not true! If you hadn't done that move, we'd still be playing this round again! Seriously, you're the best friend a gamer could ask for!"

You felt your eye twitch a little at his word. Friend.

You have always liked him. Maybe more than what most people would consider as friendship. And you have a feeling that he also feels the same way. Yet it's frustrating whenever he refers to you as just a friend even though his actions say otherwise.

You tried to show it through your actions that you like him countless times before, but for some reason, it always goes over his head.

The two of you continued to play some more before deciding enough was enough.

You dragged both of your hands on your face and sighed once more.

"You okay, hon?"

Your eyes flutter open at the sound of Asmodeus's voice. He looks at you, slight worry evident in his expression.

You gave him a small smile.

"Yeah, my eyes are just a little tired, that's all."

"You should really cut off some of your gaming time. Then you won't be complaining about how dry your eyes are anymore," Asmo chides you as he hands out an eyedrop for your eyes. But he knows you wouldn't listen to him no matter how many times he scolds you.

"Mmm, thanks."

......

As you put the eye solution on your eyes, you felt Asmo's focused stare on you.

"What is it?"

You sat up when you finished putting the eye solution. The fifth-born faces you with a knowing look as he sat on the sofa beside you.

"Spill it."

You look at him confused.

"Spill what?"

"It's a romance-related trouble, isn't it?"

Your eyes widened slightly. Was it that obvious? You felt your cheeks warm at the realization.

"I- um..."

You nodded, too embarrassed to form a coherent sentence at the moment.

"Wanna talk about it in my room instead?"

Well... it wouldn't hurt to talk about it to Asmo, you thought.

"Okay..."

Soon after you agreed, Asmo dragged you away and into his room.

.

.

.

"I'm back."

You looked at Asmo carrying a tray of cookies and tea. He went to the kitchen after letting you in his room.

"So, what's been bothering you, hm?" The Avatar of Lust asked, interest glimmering in his eyes.

"Oh, you know... the same old stuff," you grumbled as you flopped forward over the demon's lush bedsheet.

"Ah," was his reply once he realized what you were talking about.

"...You know you won't be suffering like that if you'd just say it straight to his face, right?"

"No."

Yeah, right. Easier said than done.

"Why not? You won't lose anything if you do."

"Yes, I do. I'd lose my dignity."

"Mhm. Right... And how did this way of "preserving" your dignity go for you?"

Asmo raised his perfectly shaped eyebrow on your unmoving form, completely unconvinced.

You can only groan in response.

"Come on, you know how my brother is. If you want him to know that you're in love with him, you have to say it to him directly. Otherwise, he'll think you're just being a really nice person, like what's happening right now." The fifth-born rolled his eyes, not at you but at his dense as a brick older brother.

...........

...........

"...But what if he really just think of me as a friend? What then? I don't wanna risk what we currently have over these... feelings," you mumble under your breath.

"Well, you wouldn't know that unless you do something, hon."

"And what if he rejects me?"

You finally moved after a while, turning your head to look at the beautiful demon who sat beside you.

"Then accept his feelings and move on. It'll be difficult, but atleast it's better than pining and stuck forever to where you are right now, not knowing how to move forward," he answered in a gentle tone and caressed your hair in a way that was akin to a mother comforting her crying child.

The gesture lulled you to sleep.

And as you slowly drifted off to dream world, a small part of you thought that yeah... you probably should confront your conundrum instead of running away from it.

Maybe... you should ask... Asmo for... help.

.

.

.

And that's how you found yourself sitting in a karaoke booth with Leviathan beside you.

"Oh wow! It's been AGES since the last time we hung out here!" The purple-haired demon grinned as he eagerly flipped through the song book.

"Ahaha... I know, right? Since exams are finally done, I thought this would be a great way to unwind after all that stress," you replied, careful not to let the bubbling anxiety inside you show.

"Oh, definitely! By the way, where are the others?"

As Levi asked that, you heard a ping from your phone. There was a message from Asmo.

[Asmo: "We're almost there but we'll give you some time together. Good luck, hon! 😘"]

You discreetly gulped at the message before putting your phone back to your pocket.

Thanks, Asmo!

"Asmo said they're going to be a bit late and we can just go ahead and order for ourselves or sing."

"Huh... alright," Levi said before going back to flipping through the song book.

"...."

"...."

"...Hey, Levi?"

"Hm?"

"Do you mind if I pick a song first?"

The demon looked at you quizzically. "Sure... Why though? You don't usually sing first."

"Well, um- you know... Just a change of pace," you shrugged.

You can feel sweat form on your hands.

After a moment, he handed the song book to you. Immediately, you felt the anxiety inside you intensify as you searched through the song book until you finally found what you were looking for.

You pressed buttons to enter the song number. The title flashed on the screen as you hit OK.

[Just A Friend To You by Meghan Trainor]

"Ooh, is this a song from the human world?" Levi asked.

"Yep," you answered.

Picking up the microphone, you took a deep breath to calm your erratic heartbeats.

Okay, this now or never.

"Why you gotta hug me like that every time you see me? Why you always making me laugh Swear you're catching feelings"

You looked at Levi, who, after you gave the song book back, returned to searching for songs to sing.

You turned your vision back to the karaoke screen.

"I loved you from the start, So it breaks my heart When you say I'm just a friend to you 'Cause friends don't do the things we do. Everybody knows you love me too. Tryna be careful with the words I use. I say it cause I'm dying to. I'm so much more than just a friend to you."

You looked back at him again, discreetly this time.

He was still busy with the song book.

Slowly, your anxiety was replaced by irritation.

Is he really THIS dense?? Or is he just acting like he knows nothing?

In your frustration, you stood up from where you were sitting.

"When there's other people around You never wanna kiss me. You tell me it's too late to hang out And you say you miss me."

You thought back to the times where he acted like he, too, liked you back.

Were those sweet gestures of his just a ploy to toy with you? Or was it just you who gave those actions a different meaning than what he actually intended?

You don't know anymore.

"And I loved you from the start, So it breaks my heart When you say I'm just a friend to you 'Cause friends don't do the things we do. Everybody knows you love me too."

You turned to face him, and to your surprise, his attention was now all on you.

As hard as it was, you managed to force yourself to keep looking at his citrine eyes.

"You say I'm just a friend to you Friends don't do the things we do. Everybody knows that I love you. I'll try to be careful with the words I use And I'll say it cause I'm dying to. You're so much more than just a friend to me."

Thick silence quickly replaced the fading last notes of the song.

Levi was the one who broke the staring contest between the two of you.

"Um... That- that was... a really good song. Though I think you sang the last verse wrong there."

You continued to stare at him.

"Levi."

He flinched when you said his name.

"I know this is weird and very sudden. But I seriously can't keep this to myself anymore. You are one, if not the most passionate and fun person I have ever met, and I always enjoy the time we spend together. In fact, I always look forward to the days we hang out. And, well..."

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"What I want to say is that... I like you, Levi."

"You- you like... me?" The subject of your confession looked back at you incredulously.

You nodded.

"As- as a friend... right?" he asked, fidgeting.

What?

Now it was your turn to look at him wide-eyed. No way he's being serious.

"Huh? No. I mean I like you. Like like you. Romantically," you deadpanned.

"N-no way. You can't be serious."

"I'm totally serious."

Your nervousness slowly turned into annoyance.

"Levi-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Levi suddenly stood up, grabbed his stuff, and bolted out of the booth.

You could only blink at how fast it happened.

It was also at that moment that the rest of the brothers arrived.

"What's with him?" asked Mammon as he glanced at the direction his brother ran.

"I don't know. Maybe there's a limited time event on one of his games?" Beel replied.

However, one look at your expression and Asmo knew exactly what happened.

"Sorry guys, I'm suddenly feeling a little under the weather right now," the fifth-born says.

He grabbed your wrist and smiled. "With that said, I'm gonna go home. And I'm taking MC with me!"

"What?! You can't do that!" Mammon exclaimed in protest, as expected.

As much as you like to hang out with the other demon brothers, you're not in the mood to do so anymore after what happened.

So you forced yourself to smile.

"Sorry guys, maybe next time. Enjoy the karaoke for us!"

.

.

.

"Wanna tell me what happened, hon?"

After arriving at the House of Lamentation, you and Asmo made a beeline straight to his room. Though as you passed Levi's room, you felt a pang of pain in your chest.

And now, here you are, getting pampered by the Avatar of Lust himself.

"Well, you know... I confessed, and he rejected me," you smiled bitterly.

"...."

"...Oh, come on. Don't give me that look," you say when you noticed the worry in Asmo's eyes. "Atleast now, I won't be stuck pining for him forever, right?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt. And can't I worry about our adorable little lamb?"

You gave him a small smile. "Thanks a lot, Asmo. I mean it. And don't worry too much, I'll be fine."

You felt arms wrap around you as the demon hugged you.

"It's just- I already expected it to hurt if he rejected me outright. But seeing him run away like that, it's like he doesn't even want to hear it."

"Wait..."

All of a sudden, Asmo pulled back from the embrace and looked at you.

"So you mean to tell me he didn't gave you a proper reply?" he asks.

"Um... yeah," you respond.

"......"

At that moment, only one thought came to Asmodeus's mind.

For the love of everything beautiful, these two really are stupid when it comes to each other.

.

.

.

KNOCK KNOCK

"Levi, are you there? It's me, Asmo. Can we talk for a sec?"

It took a few more knocks before the third-born opened his door.

"Asmo? What is it? Hey-!" The demon protested as his brother made his way into his room.

"Don't worry, this won't take too long," said Asmo.

Seeing that his younger brother won't budge until he spoke with him, Levi sighed in defeat and closed the door.

"So, what is it that you want to speak with me so bad that you'd barge into my room with no permission?" he asked as he sat on his gaming chair, raising his eyebrow on the Avatar of Lust who was making himself comfortable with one of the beanbags in his room.

Asmo smiled before replying, "You like them, don't you?"

That made him flinch.

"Wha? Wh-why would you think that I like MC??"

That only made the fifth-born's smile grow into a grin.

"I never said their name, yet you immediately thought of them. So I was right, you do like them."

Levi felt his face warm up as he realized his slip-up.

"Do the others know?"

Asmo shrugged.

He could only hide his blushing face on his hands. Oh, how he wanted to curl up in a ball and let the earth swallow him whole right now.

"But if you like them, why didn't you tell them that when they confessed?"

Quickly, he turned to look back to his brother.

"How did you know that?! And what's it to you, anyway?"

"Levi," Asmo spoke with a serious voice, "you're my brother, and I want you to be happy. And if being with them will bring you that happiness, then why not go for it? Especially now that you know they like you back."

"But what if- what if they find out what kind of person I really am and hate me for it?"

"Honestly, I don't really know. And that's why..."

Levi's gaze followed Asmo as he walked up to the door and opened it.

It revealed the person he was avoiding for a few days now: you.

"Wh-why are they here?!" he panicked.

"To talk things out, duh! You two really need it," he heard him say as the fifth-born pushed you inside the room before closing the door once more.

Awkward silence filled the air between you.

"Hey," you said.

"H-hey."

It was the only thing he could mutter right now.

"Sorry, Asmo asked me to come here." You scratched your neck; Levi recalled it was one of your nervous tics. "I could leave, if you want."

"No! ...I-I mean, no, y-you can stay."

He gestured to the beanbag Asmo was sitting on earlier.

"Thanks..."

Once again, silence filled the air between you.

"...Um"

"I-"

Both of you spoke at the same time.

"Oh, sorry. Go ahead," he apologized.

"No, it's okay," you replied.

"...."

"...."

"Um, MC..."

"Yes?"

"...I'm sorry, for acting the way I did that day."

He looked down to his hands as he fidgeted with them.

"It's... alright. I should be the one apologizing for springing it onto you suddenly."

"...."

"...."

"To tell you the truth, I was really happy when you told me you like me."

"Mm..."

"And then I got scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Of doing you wrong. And you hating me for it. You deserve so much more than what I could offer you, and I'm scared that one day, you'd realize that and leave me."

"...Levi."

He looked up from his hands and his eyes met yours.

"Does all of that really matter when you're the one I want?"

His eyes widened.

"Say that you're right, and I do deserve more. But I want you, Levi, and that's all that there is to it."

If Levi never thought you beautiful before, he would now as he continued to stare into your eyes, clear and devoid of hesitation.

And before he knew it, he walked up to where you are and kissed you.

It was everything he thought it would be and more. Your lips were soft and sweet.

It was as if he was brought back to heaven for a moment until the two of you broke contact for air.

He pressed his forehead to yours.

"Do you really mean it? Even if I'd annoy you to hell? Even if I won't be as sweet as the leading men in those shoujo animes you like? And–"

"Yes, I do. I mean it," you giggled as you cupped his cheeks with your hands.

And for the first time after a few days, Levi shyly smiled.

"So, does this mean we're a couple now?" you asked.

"Yeah. I guess we are."

.

.

.

Lifting his ear from the door, Asmo made a thumbs up gesture to his brothers who were with him.

It was a success.

Mammon was the first to react. "FINA–"

He was shushed by the others.

"Oops, sorry."

"Good for them. They finally got together after all this time pining for each other," Satan says.

"Yeah, it was getting kinda annoying seeing them give each other longing gazes," Belphegor remarked.

The others nodded in agreement.

"Atleast they're happy now."

It was Beelzebub who spoke this time with a hushed voice.

"Wait, does this mean we'll be seeing them be lovey-dovey with each other now?"

"...."

"...."

"...."

"...."

"...."

"...."

"...I hope not. That would be way more annoying than seeing them pine for each other obliviously."

Once again, the brothers nodded in agreement.

"All right, now that they're together now, let's all celebrate!" Mammon cheered in a hushed voice.

But before he could knock on the third-born's door, a gloved hand grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Stop that and leave them alone. Let them have their moment together with no interruptions, for goodness' sake," said Lucifer.

"Just go back to your rooms," he added.

At that, the brothers dispersed and went to their respective rooms.

Before he left, however, Asmo gave Levi's room one last look and softly smiled.

"I'm happy for the both of you, MC, Levi."

[cookie-shmookie]

A sketch of Sol drinking cognac I made while drinking cognac :)8

Because I like it well enough to post and not feel shame... Much.

[messy-nyks]

The Fernweh Saga by @lacunafiction - Agnes edition

Who would have thought? 🤭

Agnes "Nes" Sigrún 🌑RO: James Corvin

Personality: sincerity // cautious // friendly // merciful Traits: heart // compliance // believer Past affinity: writing [horror stories] Primary ability: empathetic impressions Past susceptibility: receptive

☀️Fernweh: She never really thought about leaving Fernweh… It was her place, near her family and friend(s). She felt good there and assumed she’s gonna spend her whole life happily in this little town. Even if Fernweh brings back devastating memories, she’s curious about what’s happening in Fernweh now, in her true home. It’s always been her dream to work in Turn The Page, and during her ‘short’ stay in Fernweh, she started thinking about it again. Why not stay for longer…? She would love to carry on her grandfather’s work and bring his legacy justice. 

☀️Grandpa Jóhann: When she was young, she had an amazing relationship with her grandpa. They were completely honest with each other, and she loved him wholeheartedly. Some people thought that making her grandpa proud was her main hobby. She used to tell him all about her dreams that she had, which were always wild... and also about the nightmares… It took her by surprise when her grandpa, one of the most important people in her life, started being less involved. She was hurt and began to wonder if she had done something to cause the distance between them. His decision to move her out of Fernweh so quickly after this tragic event made a huge impact on her mental state. She needed time to cope and be with her closest ones, especially her grandpa...but after all she didn't blame him. She often heard that she looked exactly like her mother…like her grandpa's daughter... She assumed he could not look at her, without thinking about her... And she could not blame him for wanting to escape that pain. Agnes knew it was the best thing that her grandpa could do for him, and she accepted it, too eagerly. She always too eagerly took the blame for everything.

☀️Beckett Warrick: After what happened in Fernweh after James she had even more trouble interacting with other people and making new friends… However, Beckett was an exception. He was the first person who got to truly know her after the events in Fernweh. When she got the letter about her Grandpa, she considered hiding the truth from him, because she knew deep down that he would be there for her if she needed him… even if he would not particularly enjoy it. It's a good thing she’s such a bad liar… Her main concern is about Beckett’s well-being. She noticed that this 'little' trip made a huge impact on him. He wasn’t supposed to be here, and it’s because of her that he–... She needs to make sure that nothing happens to her friend. And she will somehow manage to bring him back to his home.

☀️Reese Verner: They had an unconventional relationship. Reese saw her as a rival, while Agnes thought of him as a friend. She was confused about why Verner, someone of great importance, would even look at her see her as a rival. She knew there were better candidates for his games. She had only one question on her mind - “why?”. Despite Verner's playful teasing, Agnes always remained polite and friendly towards him, even when he attempted to push her boundaries. Girl knew how to keep her true feelings behind a warm smile she still does. If I can be completely honest… Agnes was rather shocked that Reese still remembered her… and was actually looking for her, which sounded so unbelievably. His concern for Milton's well-being made her see him in a slightly different light. Of course, she already knew Reese had a good heart, but his behaviour really touched her. Additionally, Agnes noticed that Reese and James’ relationship became stronger and deeper… It’s for the best. James deserves someone as dependable as Reese. He will always be there for James. 

☀️Sofia Dorran: Their bond was formed over a shared admiration for books and... the color blue. It may sound funny now, but these things became central to their lives and deepened their friendship. Sofia was the first person Agnes entrusted with her writing, and valued her honest feedback, knowing that Sofia would not make her feel bad if something needed improvement. They frequently borrowed books from each other's collections. Agnes yearned for the days when she and Sofia had reading sessions together, sipping on their favorite beverage. The only issue back then was when the book ended poorly or their library didn't have any new positions for them to read. She's willing to know how Sofia's taste toward books shifted (if shifted) and how she changed as a person. She's also extremely grateful because her grandfather received constant care from Sofia and her mother.

🌑James Corvin: …Do I really need to tell you that James was her first crush? And that she never found the courage to tell him so? maybe now will be the time? Agnes and James were always together, wherever one went the other followed. They were inseparable. Agnes even used to bake oatmeal cookies for James with her mother's help. They dreamed of their idyllic life together. As friends, obviously. Seeing him again after all those years was much harder than she anticipated. Agnes felt overwhelmed with stress from the moment she stepped out of her car. Every time she heard his surname, she unknowingly flinched. Her mind was full of questions about his well-being, life, and changes. She couldn't help but wonder if he would be happy to see her. …she did manage to hold his hand for a moment, I can consider it as a success

☀️Alex Corvin: Agnes has always looked up to Alex for their adventurous spirit and their willingness to embrace life to the fullest. She has always wanted to adopt a bit of Alex' wild side. Whenever they are around, boredom and dullness seem to disappear. They both share similar values and support each other's life goals. If I would say which person Agnes was the most willing to meet during her stay in Fernweh that would be Alex. She was confident in their friendliness towards everybody and was sure that their kindness had not wavered. Agnes was touched when she heard that Alex was looking after her grandfather's bookstore… It appears that Beckett has a new admirer, which Agnes wholeheartedly approves of.

☀️Mal: Agnes has a sense that Mal might be suspicious, but she is quite naive and doesn't believe that he could mean trouble. Although she is wary of him and finds him a little untrustworthy, Agnes believes in being kind to everyone, and she is willing to give Mal a chance, not judging him by her own impressions of him.

☀️Goldie: Agnes is grateful that her grandfather had a furry companion like Goldie, who probably managed to brighten his spirits. She fondly recalls how her grandfather would tell her stories when he once had a dog, when he was younger and how his eyes would light up with joy as he shared his story. Agnes is committed to taking excellent care of Goldie and ensuring her safety.

[lilikitsune18]

Why drawing a simple reference card is proving to be too hard for me to handle today

I should have never been given this much power @neodracunyan

[gender-euphowrya]

tradwives trying desperately to pretend that they're happy is just so funny

[theforesteldritch]

Aughgh work crush I tried to talk to him and then went and pretended to tidy the pool deck I think he did like me at one point a while ago but idk if he does anymore and idk I think I’m over him and then boom butterflies he’s so cute and he always says my name when saying hi or bye aughghfgh

he is 19 almost 20 and I’m 17 so idk how I feel about that age gap but rn I’m just pining over him so it’s fine

[mymelodyisme]

I’m going to a Halloween party with my friends on Halloween and I’m lowkey hoping I meet someone special 👉🏽👈🏽 I feel so delusional 😭

[tampatom12]

EVERYONE, GO WISH ROB A HAPPY BIRTHDAY TODAY!!!! :D

He is now 35 🥺🥹🤧🤩🥳

🔥💯🌟💓💞🙌🏻

🎉🎇🎂���🎈🎊🎆🕺🏻🪩

[tonycries]

Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.

Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 

Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.0k

A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.

“You’ve never what?”  

“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.

---

Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you. 

He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.

It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.  

Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.

The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.

Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any. 

“Um, welcome to-”

“Your hair’s funny.”

Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?

Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”

And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears. 

After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day. 

But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.

Oh. 

Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. 

Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.

He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-

“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”

Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.

“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”

“Bye, crybaby.”

And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-

“Big bro, why are you so red?”

Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting. 

Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.

“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”

“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter. 

Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?” 

No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question. 

Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-

“Man, are you even listening?” 

Shit. 

Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.

Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!” 

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”

God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane. 

Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.

“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 

The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?

“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”

Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”

“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is. 

Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”

You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. 

Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-

Click! 

“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”

You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”

His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”

“Dad, I’m running away.”

That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact. 

It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad. 

Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-

“You alright, Cho?”

Ah. 

Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.” 

“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart. 

“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”

“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”

“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.

“Cho.”

“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful. 

And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.

“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”

“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”

“I don’t know either of you two.”

It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod. 

He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”

Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”

“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years. 

“I don’t know what you-”

“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”

And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”

Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”

Raising a brow, “What?”

“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”

“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years. 

“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”

Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way. 

“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’. 

Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”

“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”

“Wanna bet, brat?”

“...”

Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet. 

Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him. 

Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night. 

“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.

Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.

“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”

Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him. 

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.

You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”

He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.

“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-

“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit. 

“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you. 

You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”

“You know…”

“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy. 

“Choso.”

Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted. 

Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”

And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”

And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-

“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”

And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole. 

“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-

“Use me.”

Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”

“Use me.”

There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch. 

And, well, how could you say no to that?

Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth. 

And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now. 

So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.

You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”

And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard. 

Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high. 

“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”

The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”

“No.”

You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”

Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway. 

“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”

“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss. 

Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor. 

And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this?  He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls. 

You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”

“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”

Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him. 

“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”

You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him. 

He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”

And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass. 

“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”

“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good. 

“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”

A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”

You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”

“Mhm?”

“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”

Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now. 

“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.

“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours. 

“Cum f’me, my girl.”

My girl. 

And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.

Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base. 

“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below. 

“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips. 

In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now. 

“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”

And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years. 

Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with. 

It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken. 

“Crybaby.”

“Cho.”

“Corny.”

“You started it.”

Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go. 

“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”

“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”

---

Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More

Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX

-Jin.

Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still 

Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX

-Jin.

Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else? 

Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk

Kugisaki: *spare

And you just LET him?

Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER 

…

AND DID IT ANYWAY

Kugisaki: L

Fushiguro: L

Gramps: L

Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????

*Fushiguro has left the chat*

Dad: :0

-Jin.

A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.

[subby-muffin]

How do I know my love life has gotten better?

My ex didn’t really do gifts, and Valentine’s Day in particular was a day dedicated more to sex than anything else. It was a day more for him than for us.

My current partner spent more than a week hunting down a PS2, buying and returning several that didn’t work and going to different stores to find one, all for my Valentine’s Day gift.

As a bonus, he also got me stickers so I could personalize it.

I cannot believe how lucky I am.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC De-Aged Triplets and Their Tired Single Sister

Jason has seen the four of them a couple of times in Crime Alley now. They looked like a family, what with similar facial features- err, actually, the kids looked like carbon copies of each other, but their mom/sister/aunt/cousin looked similar enough to be related to them by blood.

Normally, Jason didn't care for each and every family that moved into Crime Alley. Sure, he cared about all of them as a whole, but there were a lot of people, and he couldn't possibly get elbow deep in every life story he came across. So all he knew about them were three things: a) they were on the run from someone or something, b) they trusted each other and no one else, and c) apparently, they have made it their life goal to never make any kind of sense.

The list of shit they have gotten into included but was not limited to:

• one of the kids biting a gun. Not the hand of the attacker who was holding it, no, the actual gun. And he bit a piece of it clean off, which earned him - or her, actually, Jason knew one of the triplets was a girl but he couldn't tell them apart - a lecture from their... mom? sister? parental figure. The lecture was about how chewing metal does not help with iron deficiency.

• getting kidnapped and creeping out their kidnapper to the point of him returning the kids back home. A few witnesses said one of the kids was actually driving, sitting on the kidnappers lap behind the steering wheel and cheerfully commanding the man to speed up or brake. Their mom actually apologized to the kidnapper for the incident and offered him homemade cookies for his troubles. He ran away without them.

• driving a lady at the laundromat insane by repeatedly walking inside and climbing into one of the washing machines. They never got out of it, just one kid walking into the laundromat, climbing into washing machine, then another kid, looking exactly like the previous one, walking inside, climbing into the same washing machine, then another kid walking into the laundromat- well, you get the idea. The lady claimed she's seen at least five kids do that in a row, but when she looked into that washing machine, there was no one inside.

• casually falling out of windows. Or, better, walking out of them like they were doors, at any given opportunity. The witness - an old man who was helping their mom with groceries - said the mom did not care in the slightest, and when he asked her about it, obviously concerned, she just said, tired and exasperated, 'they like the feeling of free fall, don't worry, they'll come back in a minute'. Sure enough, they did, not a scratch on them. The family lived on the sixth floor.

• eating insane amounts of food. Jason personally witnesses their mom give them her wallet, telling the kids, 'eat until you're full', and promptly passing out on the table, her head on her arms. The kids then proceeded to eat four whole pizzas, three burgers each, then seven brownies and at least five cups of soda. What was interesting about it was not only the amount of food they ate but the way they never left their mom unattended, one of the kids always staying beside her sleeping figure as the other two went to order.

And now, all four of them were standing in front of him. Not Jason Todd him, but Red Hood him. And he was... confused.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, can you watch them for a few hours? Three, maybe four," the mom, Jazz as she introduced herself, was looking at him like it was he who was speaking nonsense, not her. Because asking a crime lord to watch three kids in the middle of the night is not something a sane person would do.

"Why?" He asks, bewildered, because what the fuck else is he supposed to say?

"I need to kill a man, and if they come with me, it will take three times longer," Jazz tells him. Is she saying the kids slow her down or what? Jason can admit he's never been this confused in his entire life.

"You could ask me to kill a man, while you stay with them, no?" He tries to reason, but the girl waves him off:

"No, that will take even longer. Besides, no offense, but you kill people to simply end their life, and I need that man to fucking stop existing forever."

What's the difference he almost wants to ask. But instead of that, he just sighs.

"Why me? I'm sure you could find a babysitter-"

"No babysitter will handle them. The last one told me they have been running laps on the ceiling, which is, actually, not that big of a deal. They are kids. Kids like running around," she huffs, and Jason suspects she is missing the point here, but okay. He gets why babysitters are not an option.

"You do understand what they can witness if they stay here?" He asks, as the last attempt to reason with the girl, but she just nods and leans down, making all the kids turn to her.

"Okay, you menaces, tell me what not to do while you're staying with Mr. Red Hood."

"No eating people," one kid starts.

"No driving people insane," the other one continues.

"No, um, stealing eyeballs," the third one finishes, and what the fuck are those ground rules? Is this girl a mother to eldrith horrors? That would explain some shit.

Jazz turns to him, "See? They're all good."

In what world is that good? Jason debates if he should start running now or when she leaves.

"Do they have names?" He asks instead. The girl nods:

"Danny." His surprise must be evident even through the mask because she sighs and points to each kid, "Diane, Daniel, Dante. Dani, Danny, and Dan. Actually, you know what, let's make this easier," she rummages through her bag and gets a marker out before gesturing to the kids, "Come here."

As they do, she proceeds to draw numbers 1, 2, and 3 on their foreheads. Then she nods to Hood and puts the marker away.

"Okay, that's better. Behave, you monsters, I'll be back soon!"

After she leaves, Jason looks down at the kids. They also look at him, eerie and unblinking.

Finally, one of them - number 2, Dani, if he is not mistaken - asks:

"Do you want teeth? We have a lot."

"She doesn't mean her teeth," number 1 clarifies, "She means other teeth."

...This is going to be some very long three hours.

[bkgsdoll]

🍮⠀⠀ notes: popular!bakugou x nerdy!reader, fluffy, college au ‿ ୧ 🍡⠀ word count: 839

everyone's either in love with bakugou or wants to be him. he always has people bombarding him with questions about his quirk or trying to get close to him. he doesnt mind the attention. bakugou carries a large amount of pride that comes along with his popularity. he's worshipped, always walking the halls with people following him.

but then theres you. a silent girl in most of his classes. you keep to yourself in your own little world for the most part with very few close friends. your seat is in front of bakugou in all of your shared lectures, and you never bothered him, not once. truth be told, he never really thought about you until a specific night.

slamming his friend's car door shut, bakugou grumbles, "you idiots." he wasted yet another good night for studying. he threw it away by partying with people he didn't even find interesting. gosh, it's already 10:30. he wouldn't be able to stay awake. but he can't just go to sleep! nono, exams are too close. he needs glue all of the information he can into his brain. kirishima had recommended getting a study buddy-- who the hell would want to actually study with bakugou?? the girls would be distracted by his "huge muscles" and "unique hair" while any guys would be begging to see his quirk in action.

fuck this! katsuki doesn't need anyones help.

that confident thought bubble changes as he walks up the stairs to the dormitories. he remembers that quiet dork in most of his classes.. you seem pretty normal for the most part. a bit of a nerd too, so he wouldn't be worried about you having the wrong shit written down. with an ashamed grunt, he decides to find your dorm.

you munch on freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, going over notes you'd gotten from yesterday's lecture. you tiredly lean back against your chair in a tiny tank top and shorts with your hair up in a claw clip. you're slightly bopping your head to the quiet music playing in the background when you hear heavy thuds of someone walking towards your room. you perk up when said person knocks on your door softly. you happily smile, thinking maybe one of your friends are stopping by. excited you made so many cookies, you hurry to the door and swing it open.

with his hands dug into his pockets and drained frown, the katsuki bakugou stands at your door.. odd. "oh!" you squealed, your hand covering your mouth. "sorry, just-- wasn't expecting you." you nervously rub your arm, leaning against the door frame.

he lazily raises an eyebrow in curiosity. "you expectin' someone?"

you shake your head. "nope.." you mutter with an awkward smile. bakugou eyes you up and down quickly, quietly clearing his throat at the small amount of clothing adorning your body. you bite your lip embarrassedly while averting your gaze. "you wanna come in?" you chirp, stepping to the side. he lets out a soft hum of confirmation, taking big strides into your dorm before you shut the door behind him. he walks over to your desk to observe your neatly written notes. "i need someone to study with-- you aren't stupid or anythin' right?" he cocks a brow, turning his head to look at you.

you hum lightly. "mm no, i dont think so.."

the scruffy boy plops down in your heart-shaped chair, flipping through the pages you had spent such precious time working on. you fiddle with your fingers shyly, biting the inside of your cheek as you watch bakugou. "..do you want a cookie?" you politely ask, pointing towards the plate on your desk, walking towards him. his head turned to where your finger was pointing.

his eyes flicker to the plate, hesitantly taking a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie and biting into it. it was soft and chewy-- and warm. his crimson eyes brighten a little, just a little. "'s not bad. would be better with coffee." he stares at the bitten cookie, cupping his other under the treat, careful not to make a mess. your bubbly self returns, offering a sweet smile. "coffee coming up!"

that day was the first of many of you and katsuki spending time together. you were never around people too often, yet alone someone as popular and liked as bakugou. and as for him, he thought you were decently likeable. you made him feel good about himself without talking about his quirk or giant pecs. you also never asked if he had a girlfriend or if he was free next friday night. you were just you.

you had talked more than he anticipated. that night, bakugou found himself quiet while you blabbed about whatever came into your head, and he didn't mind it at all. even after that study session and hanging out numerous times, you're still that one quiet nerd in the classroom. only he gets to see the chatty side of you-- and he likes that. makes him feel special.