#the dreamy eyed look

[fuedalreesespieces]

kagome: inuyasha's jealousy of koga is dumb and petty

also kagome:

[wolftozier]

baby eddie totally had a crush on wentworth tozier, right

[insanityisdivine]

My Favourite Couple

[cubffections]

ohno ohno ohno oh no . ˘᪤∽᪤˘ guys look away im goin insane .

[dulcewrites]

Tywl dark and brooding secret admirer Aemond who’s also secretly a hopeless romantic with clueless and bubbly reader/oc would be chef’s kiss 🤭

Yes!!! that is very much the vibe

At the moment, it’s an Aemond x reader thing so the reader will be ambiguous BUT I saw these two pics of Laura harrier and they are def the ~aesthetic~ of reader. Like the first is after Helaena has put different flowers on her. And the second is just gorgeous.

Very ethereal vibes with this Aemond

[shibaraki]

monty i am here to tell u i am devouring ur touch starved shoto like a little Freak (/pos) (/aff) (/slightly unhinged) (/pos) i Love him i would do anything for him :( u write touch starvation so well n so relatably it hits me in the soft spots in between my ribs!!! it has been a few years since i have consumed any bnha related media but i am so so glad to be back <3 i am kissing u on the forehead and also kissing shotos squishy cheek (with respect n adoration n consent ofc)

- min!

min!!!!!! my love!! (இ﹏இ`｡) hello and thank you so so much I am honoured that you would read my lil series for shouto and I’m glad you connected with it—it has been kinda freeing for me to write too. sometimes all I want to do is give my favs a long hug that dislodges a need deep in their soul!! is that so much to ask for!! lmao I love you dearly, I’m planting a big kiss on your forehead <3

[hauntingofthelamb]

gratitude gratitude gratitude that's the only way I can cope with my circumstances

[hello-kuni]

maomao is so refreshing i love her

[bunnisari]

eren loves thunderstorms.

he loves the way the electricity crackling in the sky turns into background noise as he places himself so deeply inside you. you feel full, as always. eren’s head lays next to yours on the cold fluffy pillow, his body fitting perfectly on top of yours. his weight only made your head go even dizzier. your plush thighs welcome eren’s shamelessly slim waist, your mixed arousal making a mess on your thighs. the sound of eren’s deep thrusts is so lewd, his tip kissing your cervix so perfectly. eren’s warm body shields you from the loud thunder outside, the sound of rain brutal against the windows. “you’re so messy…” eren lifts himself from the crook of your neck, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs before pushing them further back to your chest. your breath hitches at the new angle. eren’s change in pace having you drooling over the pillows, he’s stroking you so slowly and so deep your thighs begin to shake. “r-ren” you cry out, your hands gripping the sheets. with every thrust goes the last of your brain cells. eren watches where the two of you connect, his dick snug inside of you. everytime he thrusts back in your slick oozes out.

“ you’re so nasty…creaming all over me” eren lets out a breathy whine, coming down to connect his lips to yours. you don’t have a chance to process his movements before his thrusts speed up, one of his hands coming up to your throat.

whimpers and moans fell from your mouth as eren sucked your tongue, his fingers squeezing the sides of your throat. you could feel your stomach tightening, your pussy clenching around eren over n over. “shit you gonna kill me” eren whispers to himself, your warm sticky insides clamping around him so tightly. his forehead rests on yours, his eyes looking into yours. you can’t help but look away, he knows how uneasy eye contact makes you feel.

“ren m’gonna-” you sob out, tears flooding down your cheeks as the pleasure stimulates you so well. “hm? what you wanna say?” eren teases, fingers gliding over your sensitive clit in smooth circles.

“ i-i can’t” you shudder, hands pushing at eren’s abdomen. “yes you can, sweet girl” eren places a kiss on your forehead, pushing your hands out the way. “it’s okay, just cum m’here” he pushes down on your lower stomach. as if it was destiny, the final crash of thunder for the night hit you as hard as your orgasm, toes curling and eyes rolling back. eren hisses, your pussy clenching so tight around him. “gonna make me cum, pretty” he whines lowly, his grinding into you to prolong your orgasm for as long as possible. you sniffle, coming down slowly in a dreamy haze. you could sleep so good right now.

eren lifts your thigh up, pushing it back even further to bury himself as deep as he could inside you. you gasp aloud in shock, overstimulation hitting you hard as he rocks into you so good. “ren n-no” you squeal, hands desperate to hold onto something. “m’almost there” eren sighs out, his thighs shaking from pleasure. broken moans and whimpers leave your teary eyed form, only getting more sensitive with each thrust.

“ ahh - s..shit… look at me” your eyes lock with eren’s, he looks so good this way. before you can warn eren, your arousal squirts out of you, wetting eren’s lower body. eren stiffens, pumping rope after rope so deeply into you. you both lay bare and limp, chests heaving as you both come down from it all. you can only focus on the rain hitting the ground outside.

….but yeah eren loves thunderstorms!

[lunasky2491]

James admiring Reggie:

Regulus: Potter what are your obnoxious eyes doing, keep your wild fixations to yourself.

James dreamy eyed: Just stargazing.

Regulus: you absolute imbecile you cannot possibly stargaze in the middle of the day.

James: well I can, and I’m admiring one now.

Regulus:

Remus:

Peter:

Evan:

Dorcas:

Barty snorting:

Sirius looking at the sky: um I can’t see anything James, where did you say it was?

3 days later:

Sirius: Wait a god damn minute! MOONY! IM GOING TO KILL HIM, I SWEAR THIS TIME I’LL KILL HIM!

[heartofspells]

Question, did you change your header recently (or whatever it’s called), or has it always been a dark color? I could’ve sworn it looked different not too long ago

Nope, you're right, I did. I um...I'm a bit embarrassed to say I didn't know that was a thing until I edited the header image and I found it, so I decided to personalize it a bit more to what I like. Also, it just makes the artwork pop more, and who doesn't like popping artwork??

[atrirose]

⠀⠀⠀ ONLY FOR YOU ε🪴⁺ you making them flustered

synopsis : things you do that makes them flustered

ft . bf ! enha x f ! r cw. kissing, skinship .. sfw, fluff ✶ wc. 1k ◜ ◝ seiu : hope you enjoy ^^ its the enha pov of my pervious post that ik i did long back but its alright.

HEESEUNG

his hearts melt when you reassure him, tell him you are proud of him or compliment him, he is a sucker for it, could be any moment and he would just turn into a puddle for it.

he looked at you in disbelief as you emptied his portion of cake that he baked “yn, that was mine you already had yours” he pout, on the verge of tears “baby you baked so good it was so yummy i couldn’t control myself sorry but you are such a great cook” if he had a tail it would have been wagging right now “you think so? oh my okay you know what i will make more for you, im glad you liked it” he rubbed his cheeks on yours , while you celebrated escaping that.

“i’m proud of you hee” you plop yourself next to him as he put his head down on your lap “you did great out there” after a long day work these words are his favorite to hear, it makes it all worth it. he looks at you big eyed

“you make everything fade into the background”

JAY

pda and sweet or flirty messages always gets him smiling, though jay likes to keep it nonchalant and cool on the exterior but if you hold his hand or kiss his cheek in the public his ears will turn read despite his best efforts to stay cool “we are in public my love” he whispers “so what” you smile.

also giggles when you text him, tries his best to not show or answer your text in a fraction of a second and focus on his work but he fails miserably everytime “today was so tiring, i want to stay home with you always” collapses on you, hugging you tight “and you are a meanie too, teasing me like that” you giggled at his whiny voice “you can always come home jay”

“i could spend a lifetime just watching you.”

JAKE

being centre of attention by you, he loves attention but from you only, it makes him giddy “then this step was a little difficult but i worked hard on it, so i guess im good now, maybe?” you were doing your work but jake bust in to show his new dance to you so of course you had to give up everything and watch him “it’s really clean jake you did a great job” you got up from the sofa and pecked his cheek.

his whole face got red, not like you haven’t kissed his cheek before but nothing gets him like you sweet compliments and your dreamy eyes giving him 100 percent of your attention, even if he is trying to pull something stupid.

“i must be dreaming because there's no way you're real.”

SUNGHOON

wearing clothes he picked out, sunghoon takes pride in knowing his girl better than anyone, no surprise he picks up on your dislikes and likes, he tries his best to style something that makes you feel like the most beautiful “i was out yesterday and i thought this white dress would look great on but then i saw this necklace and then i thought its the prefect match so here” he smiles,“thank you so much i love these kind of dresses you know me so well” you hug him, inner him is jumping and rolling.

“i’m ready hoon let’s go” he turns back to see you wearing the dress he bought you “oh my goodness, how can you look so beautiful effortlessly” you giggle at his compliments, he is a gone case, a loser if you may, for you. totally smitten and starstruck.

“how am I supposed to look at anything else after seeing you like this?”

SUNOO

loves handmade gift, it gets his heart racing, he feels the most special when you sit to crochet after learning it online, even though the heart bag looks more like a square he would accept it lovingly, in fact he is the most happiest you would ever see him, he would be seen with that bag at every given moment “i love it no please” he said as you tried to take back the bag “but it’s embarrassing sunoo” , he is the type to have all your handmade cards and notes stacked in a box, polaroids of you and him, all your favorite memories to look back to.

“anything you make for me is never embarrassing, i will treasure everything with my whole heart”

JUNGWON

making direct eye contact or looking at him heart eyes when he is talking, nothing gets him all blushing mess, ears red, hiding his face like you do, you always look at him lovingly, humming and nodding, listening carefully. randomly touching his cheeks or tucking his hair behind his ears, gracing his ears “go on hun”

“no” he said burying his head in his hands, all flustered and red “why not” you giggled “because you are teasing me” he huffed glaring at you “stop playing yn”

“sorry won you just look so beautiful when you talk” you bite his cheeks “ow meanie” — “what were you going to say”

“you are so stunning i forgot what i was going to say”

RIKI

pulling him by his tie to kiss him , him being tall is extra fun when he can tease you when you try to kiss him “riki please” you tip toe to reach his lips only for him to smirk and not help you “please what yn?” you pout at his smug face boasting his height “bend down” you pulled on his tie which caught him off guard, your lips smacked on his.

his hands snaked around your waist to pull you closer him, your body flushed with his, your hands still gripping his tie “you can really make anything possible huh?” he giggled , cheeks red “you can let my tie go now” he tired to free his tie trying to hide the fact his heart is beating so fast “now you get how it feels to me teased” his hands still on your waist, he kissed your cheeks.

“how did i get so luck to be with someone like you”

[midnightorchids]

You didn’t mean to memorize his schedule, it was purely coincidental. You just happened to share the 9 a.m train with him and nothing more.

It was odd honestly, it started off as a few stolen glances on the morning commute. You silently eyed the boy from the opposite end of the large vehicle, careful not stare or to be rude. But it was hard to look away. He sat with his back against the navy blue seats of the rusty, old train with the most current issue of the Gotham Gazzete in his hands.

He was beautiful, but in a melancholic, bittersweet way. He was like an angel, a painting straight from the Gotham Museum. He had long, dark curly hair and a small fringe that covered his teal eyes. His hands were bruised, covered in bandages and you could see tiny traces of blood oozing out from the tape. He wore bulky headphones and you wondered what kind of music he listened to.

He was dreamy, but unrequited. It was a little crush, an infatuation, something you never thought was attainable. But then, the next morning, he was on the commute again. One day turned into two and two turned into a month. It was truly an accident, you had not planned on memorizing his morning schedule.

It was as if he began to notice your presence too, the few stolen glances slowly turned into gentle nods of acknowledgement. He’d enter the train quietly while his head tipped in your direction and his lips pursed.

He smiled one day and you felt your heart drop. It was impossible, he had seemed to make himself look even prettier. His face scrunched and his eyes crinkled, a smile had never affected you this way before.

You wanted to talk to him, to ask his name, but with every attempt, it proved impossible. Before you could gain the courage to speak to him, you would make it to your destination.

You often found yourself thinking of what would happen if you just happen to miss the next stop. Would you speak to him? Perhaps learn something new? The reason for his bloodied knuckles or why such a young man only seemed to read newspapers on the train?

But until you find the confidence to speak to him, the beautiful stranger will have to remain a stranger…

[hannieehaee]

BOY WITH LUV (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: a new job as a barista should be easy enough, right? except it gets a whole lot more complicated when the coffee shop's most loved client just decides he has to have you OR richboy!jk falls for barista!reader and refuses to give up.

content: richboy!jk, downbad!jk, barista!reader, sub-ish!jk, reader plays hard to get just for plot purposes, jk is down horribly bad for reader, afab reader, smut, dry humping, jk's the embodiment of needy, fingering, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.2k (teaser); 8.8k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: october 22nd

or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!

a/n: downbad!jk is back!

masterlist | patreon

"Anyways just be careful with how many pumps you add to drinks. Customers can be extremely sensitive about that kind of stuff. Trust me," rambled on your new trainer, Jen? Jess? Something like that.

You watched disinterested, already having had a menial barista job in the past and being well aware of the high expectations of disgruntled customers. You, too, had been verbally harassed by one too many people in dire need of a drink far too specific for the average person to memorize. It was still appreciated, though, the effort she took in walking you through every step to ensure you did good at your new position.

Despite your focus on the task being demonstrated to you not being at its best, you did take notice when Jean(?) stopped her mentoring and instead spilled some of the drink she was currently making, clearly now equally as distracted as you. Her focus was no longer on the counter you were practicing drinks on, but instead looking past you and towards the counter a few steps behind you.

You meant to call out her name to question her, but without an angle on her name tag or any confidence in actually remembering the correct name, you simply grabbed at a nearby towel and cleaned off the mess, not bothering to look at whatever was distracting her. It was too early for you to bother.

Snapping out of her trance mere seconds later, she tapped at your shoulder urgently, her voice now a whisper as she leaned close for you to hear what she was about to say.

"Oh my God, don't look, but that's Jungkook," she whispered excitedly, as if letting you in on information you had any context about — hint: you had no idea who nor what she was referring to.

Turning around, you eyed another one of your new coworkers tending to the line at the counter, but more specifically helping out some guy. Focusing your eyes on him, you could now understand why his presence had caused a short-circuit in Jane (?) and why she felt the need to announce his presence to you.

The distraction in question presented itself in the form of a very tall and fit guy, one with a fully tattooed sleeve and dreamy black curls. Other outstanding attributes were the very obvious muscles encompassing his entire body and the shine that came from the various piercings on his face. In short, the man was nothing short of a dream straight from a Pinterest board — and the charisma radiating from his mere presence did not help matters.

"He's a regular. No one really knows much about him other than he's rich. He tips like 200% above his total," continued June, still leaning in your direction to whisper.

You felt bad at how obvious you were whilst staring at the boy, but he was likely the prettiest one you'd seen in a while. The blank expression in your stare did not tell on you, but it did not deny the fact that you were staring.

"We take turns serving him," your coworker informed you, "Sometimes we fight over it. He's a natural flirt, but he does it with everyone, so we're not sure if he's taken or not," she proceeded to tell you benign details about him that had you nodding along as you continued to stare at him.

The usually fast-paced place seemed to slow down when he entered the coffee shop, with most baristas' attentions going to him rather than their jobs. If he was aware of it, he was good at ignoring it, instead giving a flashy smile to the lucky barista currently tending to him. From the short distance between you, you were unable to hear his conversation, but you still had a perfect view of him as he simply existed. He could easily see you, as there was nothing in his way, but he hadn't yet, somehow oblivious to the attention he was receiving from all other baristas in the house.

As time stood still for everyone else, it continued normally for him. He paid for his drink, having it quickly bypass all other prior orders and made immediately by one of the many girls fawning at him. God, even the two baristas working the drive-thru had taken a short break from it go gawk.

It wasn't until moments later that Jungkook seemed to get a taste of his own medicine, with his own time suddenly coming to a halt. As he turned around to leave, sweet drink now in hand, his eyes incidentally met yours, causing him to pause mid turn and do a double take in order to catch your eyes again.

It was ridiculous, really. Almost too identical to those moments you'd see in those dumb romcoms you used to enjoy as a teenager. Except this was actually happening. And it was happening to you. As all your new coworkers watched his every move with extreme attention.

His eyes widened a bit. It was something the naked eye might've missed, but not you (nor the other five girls watching). His head tilted a bit to the side — maybe in curiosity due to not having seen you there before (Joanne did mention he was a regular). A ghost of a smirk took over the natural smile that had been on his lips since arrival. And lastly, a nod was sent your way — a nod in acknowledgment to your presence, but also with a flirtatious hint to it. It was hard to describe. You simply had to be there.

You remained watching him with a poker face throughout. The same poker face you'd had since clocking in to work that morning. It wasn't that you were mean or not a people person, you simply hated work. You'd been told you had a bit of a resting bitch face and gave a mean impression to those who didn't know you, but that was beside the point. The pretty boy whose attention you'd caught had gotten lucky, though, as he at least received the ghost of a smile from you before he left.

The first thing to occur upon his departure was a squeal from your left. The perpetrator? Julie (or whatever her name was).

"Oh my god!," she let out, grabbing onto your shoulder so you'd face her, "Did you see that?"

"See what?", you asked, not 100% sure of what had just happened.

"He totally checked you out . He's never done that before. Maybe he likes you? God, don't let Lila find out, she's got a huge crush on him," she informed you, once again assuming you knew who the hell Lila was.

"Hah, I think he might've just been surprised to see a new face," you downplayed, "What were you explaining before he got here? The thing with the pumps and the-"

"He comes here every morning at 8 or so. How about you take his order tomorrow? Y'know, just to test my theory," she suggested, disregarding your question.

"Orders? It's my first day here. Isn't training like two weeks lon-"

"It's fine! I'll be shadowing you. You'll do great! Now let's get back to your training-"

"Jane! I need more change at drive thru!", called one of the drive thru girls, interrupting your conversation.

"Coming, Lila!", she responded, giving you a polite smile before handing you the shaker she had just been holding, "Just practice some drinks how I taught you. I'll be right back to show you how to work the register."

So her name was Jane. And that was Lila.

At least you learned something today.

...

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[syoddeye]

something something possessed by a worm. you're soap's captive girlfriend who got the call that he was shot. i wrote this between the hours of 2-3 am, so let's be chill. ~1.3k words.

cw: italics, imprisonment/abduction, surveillance, medical inaccuracies we breeze right over, threats of violence, collaring, stalking, noncon blowjob.

on paper, it looks bad. it looks cruel. yet, you can’t bring yourself to care—johnny’s injury is a blessing.

it feels like you won the lottery, picking up the emergency phone. inbound calls only. you were so sure it was him, warning you of his imminent return.

playing the part of a devastated partner is easy. the englishman on the other end of the call sympathizes with your crocodile tears and helpfully tells you that someone will fetch you tomorrow morning. that you'll be brought, at no expense, to sit vigil at your boyfriend's side at the hospital. you hear the word ‘coma’, and launch out of bed. you only half listen to the rest of the conversation, hurriedly packing a bag as he drones. you can't end the call fast enough.

dismantling the flat comes first. you smash the cameras and flush the bugs. pry the tracker tag off your collar and bloody your fingers in the process. later, you’ll stick it on a bus.

you scour every nook and cranny, eventually finding the steel box you've seen john fiddling with. after trial and error, you pick the lock, and it’s a relief to see your id and passport again. it’s like a time capsule. past you offers a genuine, albeit shy smile, and you mutter an apology as you tuck her into a pocket. the last of the snacks he’d left go in with your clothes, as well as the few expensive-looking heirlooms he keeps around the flat. 

someone might call about the wide-eyed, crazed woman jumping off the balcony into the bushes. it’s a risk you take. the nearest pawnbroker, if you remember correctly, is only a ten-minute walk away. the cash you end up with isn’t much, but it's the first chunk of money that's yours in ages.

you hold your breath from glasgow to amsterdam and, by sheer luck, find your godmother’s place by memory alone. she’s surprised to find you on her doorstep, but she buys your story of an au pair job gone sour and lets you stay. truth and reality are too humiliating and too risky so long as you’re on european soil. you lay low, but nobody turns up. no one comes looking.

out of an abundance of caution, you cut and dye your hair anyway. you look up every variation of ‘john mactavish’ and scour obituaries and news articles. you don’t find a thing, but you know he’s special forces—they wouldn’t necessarily publish an announcement.

weeks pass. she doesn’t say a word, but guilt gnaws at you for living off your godmother’s kindness. after dodging their calls, you reach out to your parents and beg them to buy you a plane ticket home to chicago. although they welcome you stateside, they’re distressed and confused about your sudden departure and separation from ‘that nice scottish boy’ they’d met over facetime. they didn’t know about the knife just out of frame or the disturbing sketches he’d draw of your mother from memory. you lie through your teeth and blame his hectic work schedule because it’s easier to say that than admit your little journey of ‘self-discovery’ didn’t lead you into a ‘whirlwind romance’, but a fucking nightmare.

(it started as a dreamy evening of darts and drinks, where a cute soldier made you laugh all the way into his bed. a mirage that hid his true intentions. grand overtures designed to dazzle you until it was too late. until he got you fired and evicted. somehow arranged for your visa to be revoked. orchestrated your demoralization and subsequent breakdown. ushered you into his flat with open arms, cooing and rubbing your back as you hiccuped and sobbed. those days are a blur, a series of escalations. a slow boil you didn’t feel until it scalded, until he locked the collar around your neck. even then, you felt like a failure. that it was all your fault for believing the lies. he laid you out beneath him, whispering the things he’d do to your family if you ran. how the powers at be would let him, given his work. a slap on the wrist. that’s all i’d get, hen.)

months turn into a year. you still look up johnny's name on occasion. still stare when you see a mohawk. yet, little by little, you feel like yourself again. rejoin society. get a shit job. you refuse to touch the dating pool with a ten-foot pole, but you don't feel naked wearing short sleeves anymore. don't flinch at the sound of dog tags clinking together.

you pick up a night shift, determined to save extra money so you can find your own apartment and stop leeching off your parents. everything's fine and dandy. slightly creepy, given the hour, but nothing you can't handle. (after johnny, you handle anything.) you close, intending to take out the trash as you lock up. the alley smells like piss and beer.

tossing the bag into the dumpster, you freeze at the silhouette at the mouth of the passage. they face away, cigarette smoke wafting from their person. they probably don't see you, but just to be safe, you turn to head in the other direction to take the long way to the L—

at least, you would, if johnny wasn't looming over you, night terrors manifest. big, broad shoulders and a puffed-out chest. a grin as wide and sharp as you remember. and those bright blue eyes, the light in them flattening in real time as he drinks in your expression. he relishes the way your face drops. the instant terror. a horrific scar catches your eye, flaring in every direction on his temple like a furious sun.

did ye think i'd forgotten ye, bonnie? or hope the gunshot erased ye? did ye believe me dead?

when you start to cry, because why wouldn't you, he—

no, no. hush. this is a good thing. a happy day. we're reunited, and i'm meetin' my girl's parents. cap's gone ahead to break the ice.

and when you scream, because why wouldn't you, he clamps a hand over your mouth and pins you to the dumpster. doesn't care a whit when your head bounces off the metal. the light returns to his eyes as you squirm. his brows pitch, lips curling. he brandishes a knife and stammers through his reprimand, scolding you for all your struggling.

i see ye forgot the rules and your manners. forgot what'll happen if ye dinnae–din–fuckin' play nice.

johnny forces you into a car, muttering reminders of what happens when you run. assures you, even as he loads you bodily into the backseat, sandwiching you between him and some massive freak in a mask, that he is forgiving. when the car rejoins traffic, johnny works his fly open. it takes a minute, his hands a bit unsteady.

a near-death experience clarifies things. puts what's important into focus. john says he saw his future clear as crystal, then shoves your head down without warning. he barks at the man on your other side, and a hand comes to rest on your flank, causing you to whimper around his cock. he moans sinfully at that before violently fucking your throat.

by the time he comes, you're spent. the fight gone out of you. the mitt on your side migrates to your inner thigh, but you can't begin to care. you’re resigned to drooling on john's lap. you pray for a car crash.

johnny explains how, given his connections, it took only two months to find you. they let him do that because of his work, but he decided to wait and bide his time. he details all the therapy, rehab, and everything he did to get into shape, to get his head on straight, and to get to you himself. plus, there was the matter of tracking down his second quarry. naughty, how you pawned it for less than half its value.

his grandmother's ring fits you perfectly. fate, he calls it.

but you know another collar when you see one.

[antsday]

in the palm of your hand

[i was re-reading @habken's incredible scammers to lovers au and wrote this short fic. I really love their work and couldn't help myself lmaoo. anyways i hope you all enjoy!!!]

-

“Hi! Can I help you with- oh,” says the angel from the IT department, spinny chair swiveling to a stop. “It’s you again.”

The first week Katsuki had come in, Deku had been relatively understanding and chipper- bright and sunny and shit. More personal than the strained smile and forced cheer that most customer service workers spoke with- of course I’ll fix your laptop, no problem, just leave it to me. 

Now, about three weeks later he looks at Katsuki like he’s just bitten into a lemon. As in, like Katsuki had come into the IT department, looked Deku in the eye, bit into a lemon, and then made a puckered up face and writhed in discomfort and then showed up with another lemon the next day, rinse and repeat for nearly a month. A complicated mix of intrigue and confusion and mild horror at this endless display of masochism.

Which is fair; there really is no other way to look at a top ten Pro Hero who repeatedly comes in to have his laptop fixed and won’t admit under penalty of death that it was because he clicked a pop-up in hopes of having a proper conversation with a dreamy IT guy. Not that Dreamy IT guy in question knows about all of that, but whatever. If Katsuki was in Deku’s position, he would also be worried about the fact that the safety and integrity of the public was left in the hands of guys who can’t stop getting scammed by obvious pop-up ads. 

“Your laptop’s broken again?” Deku says incredulously, as if reading Katsuki’s mind. His voice is really nice, even when he sounds confused as shit. Smooth and soft like- like a satin pillowcase. Or something. Whatever. It’s not like they pay him to be good with words. 

Then again, it’s not like they pay him to (unsuccessfully) flirt with the guy he’s normally supposed to see once a month max, but here he was. 

“Yeah,” says Katsuki, like he said two days ago, and then three days before that, and for the past month. It’s easier to say than I got a pop-up ad for a BL manga and I am ninety percent sure the twink on the cover was just a recolor of Sasuke Uchiha and I clicked it because I’m a fucking dumbass and I needed an excuse to keep coming in here and gazing into your dreamy-ass eyes. If you even care. 

He’s surprised Deku’s even asking. He’s been consistently coming in here for exactly the same reason: his laptop ‘mysteriously’ got a virus and now he needs it fixed. He’ll be back to pick it up soon, no, he’s not getting a new laptop, no, he’s not sure what happened, no, he’s not going to install some fancy-ass ad-blocker because he doesn’t want to (and it would get rid of his excuse), and Deku’s never asked this but yes, he would love to go get dinner sometime, he’s free today and tomorrow and the day after that and the rest of his life, forever, actually- 

“...Did you,” Deku begins, like he’s searching for the right words. “Uh. Do you have any idea what could have happened? Any idea at all?” 

I gazed into the dead-eyed stare of poorly-recolored Sasuke’s green eyes and thought of you because your eyes are also green, and less unnerving to look at, and the more I thought about that the more my mouse moved away from the ‘x’ button and the next thing I know, I have a virus and my desire to carnally hold your hand has overpowered any other logical thought. That’s what happened. 

“No,” Katsuki says belatedly. “Fuck. Look, can you fix it or not?” 

“Of course,” says Deku. He’s still got that little furrow in his brow. Katsuki wants to bite at it like taffy- which, is a weird fucking thing to think, scratch that- “Just- give it over, and I’ll be sure to have it ready for you in a little while.”

“Cool.” He holds out his laptop. It’s reminiscent of when he was four and showing off the cool rhinoceros beetle he caught to his mom. He’s internally beaming with pride at his success so far, and Deku’s got that same baffled, borderline horrified expression that his mom did. 

Although, that particular interaction ended with the thing flying out of his hands and into his mom’s cardigan and with him getting yelled at, so, maybe it’s not the ideal scenario to compare this to.

 But this encounter will end differently. He’s got a grip on the rhinoceros beetle, now. He just has to play his cards right. 

“So,” he says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks so Deku won’t see how fucking sweaty they are. “You’ll have it ready by lunch tomorrow?” 

Deku takes the laptop and tilts his head. “Uh. Yeah, I will. In fact, I can get it to you earlier than that-”

“I’ll be busy for the rest of the day,” Katsuki lies. All his incident reports are done, and he’s got the night shift on patrol tomorrow. “You’re done by 2 tomorrow, right?”

“...Yes?”

“Great. Look, I have to stop at that fucking- crepe place, down the street, right,” he says, praying to every God there is that he looks cool and casual and not like a ‘Deranged Goblin Man’, as the Hero Times described him a few months ago. “So. When you get off work you should meet me there. At the crepe place. Tomorrow. At two pm.”

He doesn’t know what’s worse- the fact that he’s really doing this, being reduced to the same sort of emotional sap he would have made fun of only five years ago; or the fact that Present Mic’s lessons on subtlety and hidden meanings in text were actually good for something. 

Look at him, effortlessly weaving together words to create sentences with underlying motives. He’s like a modern-day Shakespeare. He’s golden. He’s killing it. Bakugou Katsuki, master of words. He’s on cloud-fucking-nine. He’s-

…aaaaand Deku isn’t responding. 

Deku blinks. He opens his mouth. Closes it. He sets the laptop down, staring up at Katsuki intently, and Katsuki starts to sweat. 

You are Bakugou Katsuki, he reminds himself. You might be down bad, but you’re not weak. It will not kill you if he rejects you. Well, it’ll kill you a little. But not that much. 

“At the crepe pla- to give you the laptop, right?” says Deku slowly. His face is turning bright red. Katsuki goes a little weak in the knees. 

“Sure, yeah,” Katsuki says half-heartedly. “Look, if you want, I could. I dunno. Fucking- buy you a crepe or something. As payment.” 

He’s so smooth. Eat your fucking heart out, Dunce Face. ‘Zero game’, his ass. 

“Sure,” Deku says, scratching the back of his neck, smile just a tad bit shy. His face is still mildly flushed. Katsuki swoons (and does his best to not let it show on his face). “I- uh. I’d like that. I guess.” 

“Cool,” says Katsuki. “Cool. Great. Okay, bye. Be there or else. Bye. See you.”

He turns on his heel and power walks out of the room, not once looking back, even when Pigtails nearly crashes into him or when Deku makes a noise suspiciously like he’s slamming his head against the desk. He walks out of the room, into the hallway, back to his own office.

The door slams shut behind him. He takes a deep breath. Squeezes his eyes shut. A breathlessly excited grin forces his way onto his face, and he pumps his fists, victorious. 

He's got a date.

part one/part two