honeylemonale

[honeylemonale]

Nozel Silva: Drifting Off Into a Daydream

In which he has a vision where he is married to the person he likes.

✧ genre(s): fluff ✧ warnings: none :) ✧ 1917 words, (approx.) 5 minute read

ib!!!: this piece was actually inspired by @tartagliaxx, who wrote a mini series called It's A Bright Future Ahead of Us. It was so beautifully written, please read it! :D

a/n: hi! i'm sorry that i gave the reader a bit of a backstory :'0 it sort of just happened but! if this reaches anyone, i hope you enjoy this mwah

Nozel Silva has been working himself to the bone. He can’t remember the last time he had some downtime to unwind and prepare properly for a good night’s rest. It was simply the usual routine of getting out of his office in the late hours of the night, changing into nightwear and collapsing on his bed. Well, such is the workload that came with being a Royal and dealing with the Eye of Midnight Sun simultaneously. On top of all that, the looming threat of the Diamond Kingdom is a large concern for the Clover Kingdom.

He pinched the arch of his nose, frowning to himself. The tiresome labour of his now-daily routine is starting to creep up on him. His vision is clouding, and he may be seeing things… He squinted his eyes, blinking a couple of times. Was that you reading a novel in his dedicated personal library space?

Well, he has been adding several new books recently, purely because he knows that you sometimes like to come in and keep him company while he worked. Usually, you would read anything off his shelf, occasionally fawning over the literature to him or criticising it out loud.

“Wow, you’ve read 1984 before? Ah, and even No Longer Human… This is a really nice collection you have going here, Nozel.”

You must’ve felt his gaze, for you looked up from the book in your hand – Inferno by Dante Alighieri – and sent him a gentle smile. It’s one that he recognises is reserved for him, and him only. The afternoon light from the arched window spilled onto you, illuminating you like you are an angel sent down from God Himself. You stood up from your seat and made your way to him, gently caressing his cheeks in your hands. He let out a content sigh and fluttered his eyes shut, relaxing into your warm touch.

Loud knocks to his door was enough to snap him out of the trance he unknowingly slipped into. His eyes snapped open with uncharacteristic surprise, brows furrowing at the warmth that so fleetingly escaped him. “Enter.”

One of his maids, one that he does not remember the name of, came in looking flustered by the sharp gaze Nozel sent her. “Pardon for the intrusion, Nozel sama. There is something urgent that you must attend to.”

She took his silence to continue, and tentatively she did. “Early dinner has been prepared. Nebra sama and Solid sama are both waiting for you in the dining hall.”

“This is the urgent matter that I must attend to?”

“No, forgive me. I worded it wrong. We just received word that Wizard King Julius requests your presence for a meeting later tonight at 8 PM. The other captains will also be attending.”

Nozel inwardly groaned and pinched his temple. This is not something that he’s up to attending in a sleep deprived state. “Let my siblings know that I will not be eating dinner with them tonight. Is there anything else?”

She nodded. Her lips moved, he could see that, but in truth nothing was going through his head. Her words were not even entering his ears. He’s simply letting the stress take over his body and mind. She bowed to him, and quickly shuffled out of his study, leaving Nozel to his own devices.

He looked down to the report on the current known members of the terrorist group, but all the words were swirling and jumbled up into an incomprehensible mess. He sighed, leaning back into his chair and folding his arms. He closed his eyes in thought, mind drawing on a blank.

He just doesn’t know what to do anymore.

“Eian, Papa had a rough day. Let’s leave him be.”

“But I want to eat with Papa!”

He heard hushed voices around him, one of a child, and one of a woman. Eian (he presumed) was a name or voice that he’s never heard before in his life. The other, however, is a voice that he would recognise anywhere. Amongst a sea of voices, or other similar voices, the melody of her words is a tune that he would never let himself forget.

But, even then… He doubts that it’s her.

He slowly opened his eyes, flinching at the bright morning light that shone in his face. Just from seeing the dresser, the clock, the view from his window-- this is most definitely his room. But there are certain elements to the room that makes him second guess himself, like all the potted plants decorating his room, or the abundance of jewellery and make-up that was on top of his dresser.

“See, you’ve woken up Papa. Good morning Nozel.”

His eyes fell on the woman – you – who appeared in front of him, a slightly worried expression lacing your delicate features. “Sorry for waking you…”

Without a word, Nozel clasped your hand. Your warm, soft skin on his felt all so real. His heart thudded against his chest, a strange new emotion arising from a mixture of apprehension and gullible joy. He’s still holding onto you wordlessly, and you couldn't help but let out a giggle. “Did you have a bad dream honey? I’m here, I promise.”

You leaned down and pressed your soft lips against his forehead, running a hand through his unkempt morning hair.

“Papa, Papa!” A heavy weight flopped onto his body, eyes meeting another pair that was unmistakably his. “Let’s go have breakfast together!”

The boy, Eian, was a striking image of you. His hair was the same colour as your’s, and the cheeky smile that was on his lips undoubtedly reminded him of the woman he’s infatuated with. This child is definitely his, and your’s, there is no question about it.

But when did this happen? Being with the woman of his dreams and even conceiving a child with her would be a massive milestone in his life.

Is this perhaps a dream? A vision?

He sneaked a look to your left hand, and raised his. Certainly, the ring that gleamed on your ring finger is identical to the one that he donned.

“Why don’t you get yourself washed up, and I’ll prepare something delicious for you, hm?” You smiled at him, taking the weight of Eian off him. “We’ll be waiting, okay, Pa?”

When Nozel came to, everything still felt like a haze. Nighttime has fallen, and the shrinking afternoon glow is long gone. Being so immersed in that dream, confusion had him in a vice grip. It took him a while to realise that he was no longer wedded to you and the father of your son. All of that was something his mind only conjured up… (I think). The cruel reality was that he is still in his dreary office, alone and unsatisfied.

The disappointment overcame him, washing over him like harsh waves crashing against large boulders. The unhappiness he’s feeling… is one that he’s never felt like no other.

Too caught up in his thoughts – disappointment and dissatisfaction swirling in the depths of his chest – he did not notice the woman of his dreams slipping into his office. You had called out his name, once, twice, before leaning over his grand desk to tap his shoulder.

His vision came to, filled with the sight you worriedly gazing at him. Just like in his dream.

“Are you okay?”

He’s dumbfounded, cheeks probably ablaze by this point. “I… What are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting you.”

You beckoned towards the tray that sat on his desk. Atop it was a clay pot with a lid covering its contents, along with a couple of bowls, cutlery and… sticks?

You started to speak as you poured tea for him. “I’m certain that I had Adelinde tell you that I was coming over. I noticed you’ve been very busy lately, and I thought to pay a visit to see how you're doing.” The words that fell out of your mouth felt so gentle, like you’re embracing him so warmly. “You were sleeping when I arrived, though. Poor you, you must be so tired to sleep in such an uncomfortable position.”

Nozel smiled fondly, thinking back to the dream that he got to live through. “It wasn’t too uncomfortable.”

You laughed. “Sure, with your big, comfy royal chair it wouldn't be too uncomfortable, hm?”

“What is this?”

“Ah– While you rested, I went to go make something for you. I'd been informed by Adelinde that you skipped dinner tonight.” You lifted the lid from the clay pot, smoke pouring out of the well insulated dish. His eyes narrowed into the dish that you presented before him, confused by what it was. “Hot pot. Yami treated me to this once, and it’s been my comfort dish ever since. It’s warm… and somewhat reminds me of my family.”

His heart lurched hearing your tone drop slightly. It’s not unknown to him that you wished to see your real, biological family again. His mind immediately drifted back to that dream he had. Oh, he wanted it to be true so bad. The dream even felt real. It truly felt like he was living in that present.

“I’m curious to taste this.” He cleared his throat, grabbing a bowl.

Your eyes immediately lit back up, sparkling at the few words he uttered. “Really? Oh, I hope you’ll enjoy it,” you giggled to yourself, pouring the soup and the other vegetables and meat into his bowl.

The two of you passed through the hour in a light atmosphere. You were laughing at him the entire time as he tried to utilise the sticks, which he now knows are called chopsticks. He was adamant in learning the art of eating with it, and refused the fork that you had pulled out of nowhere.

As you shared stories and caught up with each other, his mind couldn't help but to wander back to that dream he had. Perhaps… was that a future he possibly has with you?

The atmosphere of tonight, with you sitting in front of him and enjoying each other's company, he felt like perhaps that dream could really become reality.

This all just felt so right– the two of you together.

You were telling him about something, but the words passed him. He had finally made a resolve.

Noticing him going quiet, you tilted your head in confusion. “Listen, if you’re not feeling well, I will let Wizard King Julius know of your current state,” you reminded him gently. “Everything that he will say tonight, and all the information passed, I will be sure to get it back to you.”

Nozel simply shook his head. No, it’s not that.

As he stared into your eyes, he found himself steeling in his resolve even further. There is absolutely no other pair of eyes that he could imagine himself falling in love with. It’s not possible for him to be any more head over heels with anyone else but you. “Zel?”

Perhaps it was the confidence from the dream that pushed him. Whatever the source of motivation it was, he knows that this is not something he’ll ever regret doing. Taking your hands into his, lifting it oh so gently to press soft kisses on your hand, he finally spoke. But he barely heard himself through the rush of blood coursing through his veins, pumping wildly in his eardrums.

“(y/n) (l/n)… Will you do me the honour of taking you out for dinner tomorrow night?”

[honeylemonale]

so very quickly !!!! a group lie detector interview w todoroki bkg deku kaminari n kirishima and deku is asking kaminari “who’s got the best looking girlfriend?”

and instantly everyone starts laughing and chatting and kaminari groans because he literally has to tell the truth and he doesn’t have one to say his own.

“wow that is so unfair. you literally want me to die tonight…..” big pause. everyone’s like “JUST SPIT IT OUT!!!”

“bakugou’s.”

and bakugou sends him one harsh glare. running a thumb across his own neck. “go kill yourself. i knew you’d say that.”

[honeylemonale]

You know when people try and sell their concert tickets online cause they can no longer go? Imagine you were supposed to be going to a concert for your favourite artist with your boyfriend, but you end up splitting up just before you get to go.

And you’re thinking about just selling both tickets, because you’re already feeling low after the breakup and you don’t really want to go to the show on your own.

But you convince yourself that you deserve that happiness, and you decide that you’re going to go and see them anyway. Even if you just stand at the side and dance with a drink in hand it’s better than being at home alone wallowing in your misery another weekend.

So you list the spare ticket online, and you get a message off a cute guy that’s interested in buying it. And you’re arranging to meet outside the venue before the show to do the exchange, saving his contact in your phone as ‘Bakugou’ just in case you need to call him to try and find him when you’re waiting outside.

Bakugou[7.47PM]: Here.

It’s the only text you get from him as you look around to see if you can spot him. You’d seen enough of his pictures on social media to know what he looked like (not that you’d spent the rest of the evening stalking him or anything), but you’d managed to spot him through the sea of people making their way inside the venue as you waved him down. And as he came closer to you, you’d noticed that he was alone too.

But he’s gorgeous, far more attractive than the photographs on his socials (if that were even possible) and definitely way out of your league. So you just hand him over the ticket as he gives you the money for it as you tell each other to enjoy the show and you make your way inside.

It’s only after the first support artist that you feel someone nudge your shoulder and you turn to see the same guy standing beside you and offering a beer out to you, which you take with a confused expression on your face.

“For not being one of those assholes trying to sell tickets to this for triple face value.” He rasped.

“Oh, I’d never,” You shook your head, “I had to pay double the price for them last time, I made sure I didn’t have to do it again. Thank you though.”

You motioned to the beer, smiling as you took a step towards him to avoid a group of girls exiting the pit behind you.

“Didn’t know you came to this alone either.” He nodded, taking a sip of his own beer as the crowd bustled inside the venue.

“Oh yeah, I was meant to be here with—” You felt your throat tighten at the reminder that you were supposed to be here with your now ex-boyfriend, “My ex.”

“That why you had the spare ticket?”

“Yeah,” You took your own sip of beer as you tried to ease the tightness in your chest, “I wasn’t gonna come at all.”

“Fuck him,” The guy scoffed, “Ain’t no reason you shouldn’t enjoy this because he’s a fuckin’ idiot.”

“What about you?” You murmur, “Didn’t you have anyone to come with?”

“My friends ain’t into this type of music,” He shrugs, “And the one that is is workin’ tonight. But they’re my favourite band, I couldn’t miss ‘em. I was about to pay triple the price for a ticket until I saw your post.”

“You were lucky, I guess.”

His crimson eyes meet yours and you can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage as you feel your cheeks burning.

“Yeah, I’m real fuckin’ lucky.”

[honeylemonale]

Imagining Mitsuki trying to play matchmaker

And maybe she’s done that before, thrown girls at her son hoping he’ll hit it off with one of them and give her grandchildren. But it just royally pisses him off and he wants nothing to do with any of them. Then maybe she gives up for a while

But booooyyyyy oh boy, if you’ve caught his eye and she notices? She may not have introduced you, but she’ll make it happen. Just trying to help him out ya know?

She’d have to be as subtle about it as possible though. I could see him pushing you away just to spite her, even if he was head over heels for you.

I got a little carried away talking about this, but I just love the idea of Mitsuki meaning well, but never quite getting it right.

Warnings: Mitsuki tries to play matchmaker.

Word Count: 1.6k.

It isn’t that Mitsuki wants to force him into a relationship, she means well. She doesn’t like the thought of him coming home to an empty apartment each night, especially because she’s one of the few people who know about his night terrors. She’s been on the receiving end of many a call at four in the morning where he’s calling to make sure everything’s okay, or hearing him as a young man screaming in the night when he wakes up from another one of those nightmares. And although she’s taught him well, never needing to learn to cook, clean or use a washing machine— some companionship can’t hurt.

There was a time that Mitsuki thought that Bakugou wasn’t searching for love— that he’d already found it. His cheeks turning a violent red when she’d suggested that he was dating Kirishima, immediately reassuring him that she wouldn’t love him any less and that she’s happy he’s found someone as Bakugou tried to set her straight.

It isn’t that she ignores Bakugou when he says he’s not looking. She’s just worried, and maybe she’s right. Maybe he is lonely, and could use someone to help fill that void between work and sleep.

A mother can always tell, after all.

But Mitsuki’s methods can be a little unorthodox. Masaru tries to tell her not to meddle, that their son will find love when he wants to. On his terms, when he’s good and ready. But now he’s pushing thirty, not even a tabloid based rumour about a girlfriend and she starts to get antsy.

The window for grandchildren is slowly closing, and the hope is diminishing so of course she has to take matters into her own hands. It’s for Bakugou’s benefit, it’s like she’s doing him a favour.

At first Mitsuki is trying to set him up with someone based on attributes, wealth, success, career goals. Even though it’s difficult trying to find someone as motivated and strong as her son, she knows there are thousands upon thousands of women out there that would love to date him.

And poor Bakugou would prefer to be doing anything else with his time, sitting in his boxers playing video games and sipping a beer sounds far better than a twelve course dinner with portions so small he’s got to cook at home after. Especially with women he could care less about, listening to them drone on at him about their meaningless lives while he picks at his hors d'oeuvre two courses in.

No matter how perfect these women seem on paper, how compatible they are based on personality tests and star signs the dates never work out.

When this tactic doesn’t work, Mitsuki still won’t give up. Working in the fashion industry for as long as she has means she’s got a phone book full of gorgeous women. Personalities may not match up, but however bias it may sound she knows her son is an attractive man. So it’s easy to scroll through her contacts to find an array of women who would jump at the chance of a date with the Number Two Hero (also another benefit she slips in to conversation).

Bakugou tugs at the black tie around his neck as he stands awkwardly in the corner of another one of his mothers networking parties. Wondering how at 29 he’s still subjected to this kind of misery, thinking this would have stopped well into his teenage years. Groaning internally when he can see her out of the corner of his eye dragging a pretty young woman towards him. He knows the drill, knows exactly what that old hag is up to as she gives him a warning glare that only he can see. Turning to the poor girl with a faux sincere smile as she introduces her to him, her hand tightening around his forearm in warning as he offers his hand out to the poor girl.

But as quickly as Mitsuki arrived she’s gone, pretending to wave at someone in the crowd as she excuses herself and leaves Bakugou standing alone with this woman. Listening to her begin to rattle off ad campaigns or endorsements she’s been involved in like he gives a fuck, and talking about how many offers she’s received for her next one. It’s all he can do not to tell her that he doesn’t care and walk off as he notices that old hag watching from across the room as he throws back his whiskey and excuses himself to the bar. At least there’s enough alcohol to drown out the pain and suffering his mother is currently inflicting on him.

Mitsuki’s quick to join him, wine glass in hand, as she asks what he thinks and gushes about how pretty and perfect she is.

“Yeah? So why don’t you date ‘er then?” Bakugou scoffs as his mother rolls her eyes and he can tell if there were fewer people in the room she would’ve hit him upside the head by now.

It’s exhausting.

Groaning as he collapses into bed to find one new text message from the girl he’d been introduced to hours earlier. Knowing that his interfering mother had clearly given his phone number out— again.

But when perfect matches, and pretty faces don’t work Mitsuki changes tactic. After that, it’s just anyone.

Bakugou could be saying thank you to a girl in a coffee shop whilst he’s out running errands and Mitsuki is asking if she wants to go on a date with her son— she already had a boyfriend. Or the kind waitress at lunch who gave him a little extra spice in his ramen— she wasn’t interested in men. And even one time where Bakugou stopped to let a lady onto the train before him— she ended up posting about it all over social media before he’d even arranged the first date.

Deep down, there’s never anyone Bakugou truly wants. Dates are done out of obligation, and spending a few hours taking someone out for food or drinks means his mother is off his back for a few weeks or a few months depending on how well he can hide the immediate break up.

It’s a few months later when Bakugou realises the true lengths of how far his mother is willing to go to get him married off. He’s given a short, curt answer about his last break up. A “relationship” that Mitsuki thinks lasted for six months, but really there wasn’t even a third date. He’s out for drinks with the guys after work when Mina shoves her phone in his face, drunkenly squealing about how she didn’t realise he was trying to date people right now. And Bakugou didn’t realise himself— grabbing the phone from her as he assessed the profile. Thinking it was just another scam account trying to con lonely, desperate women out of their money, but he notices it. Pictures uploaded to the profile that only his mother has access to, key words that she’s used on many occasions to describe him.

That old hag. He groans, passing the phone back to Mina as he steps out of the bar to call his mother. Hearing the disappointment in her tone when he says he’s not interested. She doesn’t even try to hide the fact she made the profile, telling him there’s hundreds of women replying to his page. That he can have his pick of any of them if he wants to— but it just doesn’t feel right?

Until there’s you.

And there’s almost something about you that makes Mitsuki not try, because however much she loves and adores her son you’re almost too good for him? You exude happiness, positivity and love. And Bakugou is well, Bakugou.

And somehow you get together and you just work? Like there’s some sort of gravitational pull navigating you into each others orbit. And everything is just easy.

It’s not like expensive dinners, formalities and pretense. It’s comfortable, safe, warm. When Bakugou finds his place with you, he wonders how he ever spent so many years alone. Now he can’t ever imagine life without you, and Mitsuki is shocked when he appears at the door with you for the first time. Because for the first time, her son looks genuinely happy.

The most positive thing about it is now she no longer has to try and play matchmaker for Bakugou, the hard work is finally over. And now she has far more things she can annoy him with instead— like grandchildren and marriage.

And although she may hate to admit it, she’s happy that her son could pick a better match for himself than she ever could. No matter how much she insists that if she’d met you first she would’ve immediately set you two up on a date.

Bakugou finally found his own happiness in you.

But just because she no longer has to play matchmaker, doesn’t mean she won’t try to organise your wedding, your first home, your first child. And you better be prepared for her slightly unorthodox methods for that too— as she buys you pretty lingerie for birthdays, Christmas, Valentines—

“You can’t buy my wife lingerie for valentines, you old hag!”

“Maybe if you’d marry her she’d actually be your wife, you little brat. You should be grateful I’m trying to help.”

And oysters being the main course when she invites you over for dinner—

“They’re a natural aphrodisiac, you know”

“You can’t talk about sex so openly when we’re eating, you old hag. Jesus—”

Most family dinners include Masaru offering you a large glass of wine in the kitchen as you watch your spouses argue together.

But deep down Bakugou is just grateful that you stick around even though Mitsuki is almost a third wheel in your relationship. But you make the perfect team, and together you can handle anything— even his mother.

[honeylemonale]

More of this.

You know in my mind I was kinda picturing doing Chicken Shop Dates with him and other Pro-Heroes? And Bakugou sees your date/interview with Sero and he’s pouty and jealous because he wants to do one with you.

Bakugou can’t remember the first time he started to fancy you, but it was probably the first time he ever saw you because you’re perfect. He remembers that interview, his first time seeing you. A laid back interview with the Bunny Hero Mirko, the pair of you sat on a plush couch with mugs of tea. And if he’s being honest, the Pro-Hero was the only reason he was even watching in the first place, his childhood crush on the older Pro still prevalent into his mid-twenties.

But he remembered watching the interview, which ended up seeming more like a gossip session between two friends as you delved deeper into the woman behind the Hero name. He found himself watching that video again immediately after it finished, before going in search of others. From up and coming sidekicks, to lesser known Pro-Heroes like Snatch. Bakugou found himself searching through your page for hours as he looked through the videos and photographs with these Pros, frowning when he noticed a new upload with you interviewing the Pro-Hero Cellophane.

Even though Bakugou had been watching your videos for months, he’d never followed you on any of your social media platforms. Content with watching each upload, and religiously checking your page for new photographs or messages. It became almost routine as he’d finish an arduous fifteen hour night shift and immediately check your feeds in the locker rooms before his commute home. Or he’d wake up in the morning to see if you’d posted anything new while he’d been asleep, and in his mind it was almost like waking up with you.

But seeing you interviewing one of his close friends had him feeling almost jealous, even though it seemed to just be meeting in a professional capacity. And Bakugou began to wonder why you’d never wanted to interview him, wondering whether you had contacted his PR team and been rejected or if he was in the pipeline for one. It was that moment when he decided that he was going to follow your socials, and he pathetically hoped you’d notice.

And if you didn’t notice, the internet certainly did. New tweets and screenshots appearing everywhere about the OfficialDynamight Twitter now following your account. Fans speculating whether it was his PR team that had made the connection, or the Pro-Hero himself— but something that everyone seemed to agree on was that an interview with you both was long overdue.

Of course, you’d noticed that the OfficialDynamight account had followed you almost instantly. Checking the notification to see whether it was actually his account, or just another fan-made one. Noticing the blue tick to signal that it was real, it was really him. Trying to calm your racing heart down and convince yourself (like the rest of the internet) that it was just his PR team and not the number two hero. Of course, you’d kept your crush on the Hero mostly secret. Alluding to it in a couple of interviews with Pinky and Burnin’. Interviews that had become a lot more fun and gossipy than the usual news that your company wanted you to report on, ignoring the set questions and talking about love and relationships. But you’d never specifically admitted to your crush, even though the internet continued to speculate.

So when you find out that the Dynamight PR team have responded to you with the approval for your interview request, you’re internally freaking out. Not only because you’re going to be interviewing your favorite Pro-Hero, the man you’ve had a crush on ever since he hit the top fifty. But you have all the pressure on your shoulders to make the interview good, because Dynamight interviews really are like gold dust. And the one thing on your mind is trying to find out is who he has a crush on. Remembering the charity gala interview he did when the little girl asked if he liked anyone.

But you didn’t expect his answer to be you.

[honeylemonale]

katsuki's never been one to let himself get attached to his flings. he knows his limits, knows when fucking turns into love-making. he has a hard 45 day limit on his relationships, even going so far as to mark their expiration dates down on his calendar.

still, he can't smother the feeling he gets in his chest on day 36 of you. he wasn't even planning to see you today, wasn't thinking about talking to you until he notices you sitting out in front of a dive bar from the window of his car. you're at a small patio table, alone, picking at the label on your empty beer bottle, doing that thing you do where you purse your lips when you're trying not to cry.

and when that first tear rolls down your face and you quickly swipe it away, katsuki feels like his ribs are caving in and his thoughts are swirling around in his head, a cosmic whirlpool of I'm going to protect you, who did this to you who hurt you? I'll never let you feel this way again, not ever again, not ever ever again

he tells his driver to pull over and he's in the bar before anything can stop him, grabbing another two beers, some cheap brand he saw in your fridge after a night in your bed.

"katsuki?" you look at him with glassy eyes when he sits down next to you, sliding one of the bottles across the table.

"why're you cryin' outside of a shitty bar at 2am, hm?" he takes a swig of his drink, nearly grimaces at the flavor.

"can we just fuck like usual and leave it at that?" you ask hoarsely.

"tell me why you're cryin' and then I'll take you back to my place." katsuki lays a hand on your thigh and you trace along his splayed out fingers with your nails.

you're quiet for a minute, and then:

"what would you do if you were in love with someone, but they didn't love you back?"

katsuki unconsciously strengthens his grip on your thigh, blunt nails digging into your skin.

he knows he has a choice in this moment, one that scares him more than any day he's had as a pro-hero.

but the next words out of his mouth feel so natural, he barely has to think about them.

"I'd buy her a beer at a shitty dive bar on my way home."

[honeylemonale]

OM! Brothers reacting to mc’s heat!

for some background, i firmly believe that humans would go into a “heat” due to sexual desire and pleasure being intensified in Devildom.

TW: SMUT mdni

Dom! Mammon x female anatomy mc

This is my first ever smut writing so pls be easy on me!!

Follow for the rest of the brothers part and message me if there are any other characters you’d like done!

MAMMON

You’re sitting in your room so desperate. You’ve never need to be taken care of as bad as you do now. You know Lucifer told all the brothers to not act upon your heat, making them all tense from trying not to pounce on you immediately. You’ve been condemned to your room till your heat is over, making you and them miserable. The only time you leave is to go to the bathroom or eat, in which Mammon tries his hardest to avoid you, knowing his self control with you is basically nothing, he couldn’t stop himself from dragging you back into his room and taking you for himself. But nonetheless he tries to control himself for you, he doesn’t want to scare or hurt you. As you’re in your bed, rutting against your pillows, you decided you can’t handle it anymore. You need your first man to make it better. You text Mammon immediately.

MC: come to my room please, you’re the only one who can help

Before you can put you’re phone down there is a knock on your door. You get up and unlock the door, mammon shoves his way in and kisses you immediately. He’s so desperately running his hands all over you while you whimper into his mouth. He leads you back to your bed while now kissing down your neck. “ya need your first man to take care of ya treasure? ya know no one can make ya feel the way I can. I’ll make ya feel like you’re in heaven just to drag you back down to hell with me baby” he groans into your neck while his hands make way down your body. He leaves hickies all over your neck and chest, claiming his treasure from all the others who so desperately wish they were him right now. Mammon’s ego is soaring as you’re begging and whimpering under him. You need him so bad it hurts. “Mammon please touch me already please” he groans at your words “fuck baby do ya know what ya do to me when you speak like that. I could never deny ya” he mutters as he kisses down you’re stomach. You’re skin is on fire from his touch, you try to buck your hips up but Mammon has a tight grip on your hips, holding you just where he wants you. His dominating presence makes you moan alone. Along with the dirty words he’s whispering to you, you could cum without his touch. You’re whines get louder the further down he goes until he reaches your core. He gently pulls your underwear down your legs and gives your inner thighs sweet pecks. He looks up at you while licking a long stripe up your core and places a gentle kiss to your clit. you moan immediately from the eye contact and the intense pleasure just this small act gives you. “MC look at me, look at who is giving ya all this pleasure, who’s going to make ya cum so much you’ll only remember my name”. With that he goes all in, licking and sucking until your hands pulling strands of his white hair and your back is arched of the bed. Mammon is rutting against the bed as he could cum just off the noises your making for him. He groans into your core every time you moan his name and goes rougher. He can feel you get close to the edge, “Let go for me treasure” With that you’re moaning obscenely loud while your legs shake under mammons big hands. You cum harder than you ever have, but it’s still not enough.

As if reading your mind, Mammon flips you over immediately, he needs you now. He pushes your back down while hold up your hips, putting you in a perfect arch for him. His cock is straining so hard against his boxers. “look how hard ya make me precious” he moans as he grinds his bulge into your bare core. “Please mammon I can handle it” you moan. Mammon grunts and rips his underwear off immediately at your begging, rubbing his tip up and down your slit. “Gonna make ya mine” he mutters before slowly pushing in. You both moan at the initial push, he grabs a handful of your ass while you’re holding onto the sheets. He pushes in all the way and you gasp. he grunts animalistically, “ya take it so well treasure, take all this cock honey” he says as he starts thrusting into you at a fast but controlled pace. He doesn’t mean to start off so rough but he can’t control himself any longer, he needs all of you. All the pleasure you are both receiving causes Mammon to switch to his demon form and tower over you. You’re moaning and begging so loud you know everyone else in HoL can hear you. Mammon loves it, he knows everyone else is fucking their fist to the sound of mammon fucking his human. “moan my name human…ah fuck- tell everyone how good the Great Mammon is fucking his little human” mammon moans from behind you. “Ahh-!Mammon it’s so good! Please-e I need your cock only the Great Mammon~ah!” you whimper out. At that mammon grabs your hair pulling your back up to his chest as he wraps his hand around your throat, the other resting on your lower stomach. He pounds into you vigorously while kissing you, he feels you getting closer. You’re barely kissing back, all you can do is moan. You can’t think or barely speak, all you can whimper is please. Mammon smirks into the kiss, “wanna cum on your master’s cock hm? Do it baby, cum all over me”. You cum on his command, he rides you threw it and then some. He’s still pounding roughly into you, overstimulating you like crazy. You’re moaning and shaking in his hands as he is about to cum “fuck-k treasure take my cum inside ya, let me claim ya” he moans. “Please!” You scream. With that you feel his cock twitch and pump you full of cum. He’s moaning just as loud as you and rocking his hips into yours to make sure he fills you up as deep as he can. As you try to wiggle away from his cock overstimulating you he flips you over. “where are you running human? you’re not done yet, your first man is going to make sure you won’t even think of anyone else, now be a good girl and take all of it treasure” he whispers in your ear as he holds your legs up to your shoulders. After tonight you no longer suffer from your heat all thanks to your great mammon<3.

[honeylemonale]

Imagine! Mammon’s big warm hands wrapped on your waist as you feel his chest pressed against your back. You’re both swaying with the music, bright flashing neon lights surrounding you. Loud music blasting behind you while you’re surrounded by others having the time of their life. You’re both feeling the alcohol running through you. Mammon is slightly grinding on your ass as you’re just dancing and giggling the night away. You turn to look at him and immediately get flustered. He looks like a god in this light. He’s big buzzed smirk and hungry eyes staring down at you as you sway your hips into his. You grow confident as your throw your arms around him and sing along to the loud music. The entire night is filled with desperate teasing grabs while you both dance till the morning. Or at least until someone looks at you in a flirtatious way and mammon grabs your pretty face to start making out with you while looking at them in the eyes with a smirk, showing his dominance and possession. Let’s just say after that mammon keeps you up all night, but not in the way you expected.

Just a short blurb I couldn’t stop thinking about

[honeylemonale]

He just wants to be good enough for you always🥺

Warnings: fluff, reader has a mum and dad.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.1k.

You know how he feels.

It was the same feeling that bubbled inside your tummy when you were meeting his parents for the first time. Feeling silly for being so nervous the minute you stepped through the door as you were welcomed into a fierce hug by Mitsuki. A large photo album strewn over both your laps as Masaru offered you some homemade dorayaki.

“It ain’t the same thing,” He scoffs, staring at his reflection in the mirror as he pulls his tie out of its loop to start all over.

“How is it not the same?” You laugh from your position at your vanity, stroking your clear gloss against your lips as you watch him struggle with his tie again.

“They need to know that I can take care of ya,” He pushes, cursing under his breath when he looped the tie.

There’s something that convinces him that he’ll somehow never be good enough for you. The self-doubt and insecurity that’s plagued him since childhood rears its ugly head for situations like these— situations that have your usually strong and confident boyfriend reduced to that same terrified little boy.

“They know you take care of me, baby.” You turn in your chair to face him.

“I ain’t even number one yet, and they need to believe I’m good enough to look after their little girl?” He drops his tie in exasperation as it sits around his neck.

Standing up from your position at his vanity as you make your way over to him. Cupping his hands in your smaller ones as you lace your fingers together at your sides. Squeezing reassuringly as you practically feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, brows furrowed as you smile up at him.

“They won’t care about any of that, Katsuki.” You coo, feeling how sweaty his palms have become from preparing to meet your parents, “All they’ll care about is that you’re treating me well, and that you’re a good man.”

“A good man that leaves you for weeks at a time.” He scoffs.

It’s always a sore spot in your relationship when Bakugou has to leave for work. The best missions always seem to be the ones that take him further away from home than either of you would like. The biggest boosts to his hero ranking always seem to mean the longer trips, phone calls and FaceTimes at unsociable hours the things that keep you both close. But he always keeps his promise to return back to you safely, little gifts from the destination that reminded you of him.

“You do what you have to do, and I understand so they will too.” You reach your hands up to his forgotten tie. Slowly wrapping the fabric around to begin to loop it, pulling it through as he keeps his crimson gaze on you, “There’s no one else for me, Katsuki. Never will be.”

Bakugou would steal the sun in the sky for you if he could, submerge the entire world into darkness if it meant that only you could see it’s glow. There isn’t a single thing he wouldn’t do for you, and if only everyone could see that. The scrutinising tabloid articles and online posts still attack his character, wondering how a man as bold and brash as Dynamight could ever love anyone. But he proves it to you daily, through his words and actions.

You’d found a good one in Bakugou Katsuki, the perfect man. And you’d spend every day fighting his corner if you had to.

“Do you think I should bring that award I got last week? I think it might show your parents that—”

“Katsuki,” You cut off his rambling, shaking your head, “They don’t need to see that to know you’re successful. And I’m pretty sure my mum’s shown an article about that to all of her friends already.”

“I just want them to know that I can look all after ya,” He continues, “Even though my last mission ran over.”

A three week mission had turned into six after Bakugou had discovered the villain he had been tracking down was at the centre of a huge drug ring, the extra three weeks had meant taking down the entire operation but it had meant leaving you alone for Christmas— when he was first supposed to meet them.

“They understood, Kats.”

“I think your ma was pissed.” He scoffs.

“Not as pissed as yours,” You laughed, “She spent the entire evening complaining about it when I dropped off our gifts for them.”

“That old hag,” He shook his head, “She still goes on about that, you know. Doesn’t matter that I jumped up fifty points because of it.”

“No matter what happens— I love you, so they will too.” You smooth your palm along his chest to lay his neatly tied tie down flat against his dress shirt. His hand reaching up to try and tug at the uncomfortable collar as you grin up at him. Standing up on tiptoes to steal a kiss before wiping your gloss from his lips with your thumb, an action that’s halted by him licking his lips to taste the sticky sweetness as he pulls his head back.

“You’re such a dork.” You laugh, shaking your head as you turn around to check your face in the full length mirror.

“Yeah, but I’m your dork.” He hums, wrapping his arms around your waist as he settles his chin against your shoulder.

“Yeah, you are.” You smile, resting your hands on his arms as he sways you side to side, “But I hope you’re ready for my mum to grill you about when we’re having kids.”

“Our ma’s together are gonna be a fuckin’ nightmare.” Bakugou groans, hiding his eyes in the curve of your neck as you start laughing.

“I’d expect nothing less for our relationship.” You smiled, “I’m still recovering from your proposal.”

“Oi,” Bakugou’s arms tightened around your waist, “It ain’t my fault that villain ruined the perfect fuckin’ proposal.”

[honeylemonale]

Best Bro

Bakugou x Reader Word Count: 1134

A/N: HI UM I GOT ENGAGED TODAY SO I’M KINDA SUPER FUCKIN HYPED AND SCATTERBRAINED. I wanted to write something and, uh, I don’t know if it flows well, but here it is.

 –

Bakugou was lost in thought as he stored his hero outfit. He went through the moves of putting everything away in his locker, but it was obvious to Kirishima that he wasn’t paying attention.

“You doin’ alright?” Kirishima asked slowly. His best friend had more of these moments where he was uncharacteristically quiet and it was starting to freak him out.

Keep reading

[honeylemonale]

"This seat taken?"

Your eyes are pulled away from the essay you were writing to meet with a pair of red ones, blonde eyebrows raised in question.

You shake your head, shifting over slightly on the booth to give him room to squeeze in to sit at the table next to yours.

"Thanks," He mumbled, and you shyly ducked your head. He was handsome.

You watch from the corner of your eye as he pulled out a slick black laptop from his backpack, opening it up.

"What's the WIFI password?" He asked you, leaning a bit more towards you incase you didn't hear him over the music playing over the coffee shop speakers.

"Coffee123," You recount.

He smirks as he types in the password. "That's too easy." You chuckle, "Yeah, it is."

You think that's it, that he would leave you alone to your own work now but instead he continues to talk.

"What did you order?" He juts his chin toward your drink.

"Americano, you?" You asked.

He shakes his green drink, "Matcha."

You nod, fingers twitching to return to your work but the stranger sitting next to you takes up your attention again.

"I'm Katsuki," He said, and you smiled at the sound of his name.

"Nice to meet you Katsuki," You said. "I'm y/n."

Katsuki begins typing on his laptop but he continues to keep up the converstation.

"You come here often?" He asked, red eyes snapping up to meet yours.

You shake your head, "No, it's my first time."

He nods, "I figured, I would've noticed a pretty girl like you sooner."

You blush at his forwardness, and awkwardly shift in your seat.

"What are you working on?" Katsuki continued to question you.

"Oh," You look at your incomplete work. "An essay on the significance of feminism in early adaptations of film."

He makes a confused look, his nose scrunched up and his eyebrow raised. His expression makes you laugh.

"Gross," He teases, and you pretend to act hurt.

"It is not!" You laugh. "What are you working on?"

Katsuki nodded at his screen, "Quantum physics."

"Now that's gross," You argue, laughing.

Katsuki tries to act hurt, but he was blushing.

"Whatever brat," He snickers.

Finally, the two of you begin working on your own work, but not without brief looks at the other, laughing softly.

[honeylemonale]

✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — anyone would be silly not to love you, katsuki.

࿄ ! warnings — f!reader, no warnings. so fluffy it’s sickeningly sweet.

katsuki knows that he’s a little difficult to deal with sometimes. to love is a different story altogether.

from a young age, he never really cared about what others thought about him. he wasn’t interested in friends, tolerated his family and he didn’t care for women at all. and at 16, he deemed this to be a perfect way to live.

well, now he was 22. who knew that loneliness would hit him in tumultuous spouts of self loathing and bitterness? not him, that’s for sure. he sees his friends getting into relationships and while he’s thankful that they always include him in things despite his brash attitude and sharp tongue, there’s an embittered taste on his tongue that lingers when he sees kirishima and his girlfriend.

katsuki doesn’t think he’s particularly unattractive either and women do approach him; unfortunately, they’re left sour by his mannerisms and deadpan tone of voice. at 18, he didn’t care that girls didn’t really understand him. but four years is a heck of a long time to change your view on things: things being love.

you tell him that anyone would be silly not to love him.

katsuki has known you since he was a stupid, brooding adolescent kid. he thinks it’s a blessing and a curse that you came into his life so forcefully, uprooting yourself and plopping your ass into the middle of it. he’d never tell you but sometimes when he’s on blind dates with the next girl that denki thinks is “the one,” all he can think about is you: especially when his forgettable date orders your favourite, barbecued duck noodle soup, to be exact and he remembers when you made that for him on his 18th birthday.

when you come over to his place to cook dinner and watch a film, you ask about his date and katsuki alludes to the failure of it and that she also “eats really noisily,” a pet peeve of the blond’s. you frown cutely, like you always do when he tells you about the flings that don’t go well.

“well, anyone would be silly not love you, katsuki,” you’d always say and it was routinely with the way he’d stand behind the kitchen island and you’d smile at him, eyes crinkled and shining, making a raspy breath hitch in his throat.

and when dinner was ready, you’d set out both your bowls of dumplings and duck and sometimes you’d put on a netflix show that you really like (katsuki thinks netflix sucks but for you, he’d watch paint dry); however, this time, you opt to just talking, catching up on your day and the plans for the week.

“y’know, blind dates aren’t all they’re cracked up to be anyway. statistically speaking, your soulmate is probably someone you’ve known all your life,” you say candidly, slurping noisily and katsuki watches you thoughtfully before scoffing, all bemused.

“i speak to maybe four women, including you and my ma. great odds,” and you giggle at that, making his heart jump while some soup dribbles down your chin.

“there’s someone out there for everyone, okay! and who are the other women besides me and your mom?” you raise a brow jokingly and katsuki lifts a hand to softly flick at your head.

“just coworkers. like i said, the odds ain’t great,” he grumbles and you rub at the spot on your head before resting your hand on top of his and lifting it back up to press it to your warm cheek.

“you have me! am i not enough woman for you?”

katsuki’s eyes soften and his thumb subconsciously rubs across your skin.

“plenty ‘nuff woman for me. don’t know who else could put up with me,” he says earnestly and both your eyes widen almost comically at the words that slipped out of his mouth.

he’s about to dejectedly pull his hand away when you slightly lean into his touch, “it’s like i said. anyone would be silly not to love you,” and you angle your face so your plump lips kiss into his thumb.

you decide not to comment on the reddening tips of his ears and the pink dusting across the golden specks of freckles on his cheekbones, to save him from the embarrassment.

maybe it’s the years from knowing katsuki that allows you to always say the 8 words: from seeing him transition from a brash, harsh, emotionally constipated 17 year old who was at least three inches shorter than you (he would vehemently deny the passing of time in which you would tower over him) to an almost 23 year old man, who picks you up from school most days, who’d wash your makeup off when you got too heavy handed with the liquor, who knows your order at the local chinese off by heart and who is now definitely almost a foot taller than you.

before katsuki washes up, he shyly asks you to stay the night - in his own roundabout way of being timid, which includes his heavy voice and a seldom amount of eye contact - and you normally do sometimes, with him sleeping on the couch while you take up his kingsize bed. your heart shakes a little in your chest but of course, you smile in reply and nod. you and him both know that this time, it’s different.

“we can stay in my bed… if you want,” mumbles the man gruffly and this time, you bite back a smile. dealing with katsuki meant that you didn’t like to fluster him at times where he was opening up to you, albeit in small, crumbly pieces.

you nod again and reply.

“of course.”

it’s 9:35pm on the dot when you both settle into the duvet of his huge bed and katsuki is kind of stiff, to say the least, and there’s a metaphorical wall between you two. you think he’s staring straight up to the ceiling, if his breathing pattern and the slight glow of his red eyes told you anything.

“is it okay if we cuddle?” you whisper, turning to your side to face him and you think you did something right because he breaks out of his self-doubting stupor and after a few moments, opens up his arms to your smaller body as a leg wraps around his waist and an arm drapes across his chest.

“you okay, katsuki?” you whisper again. “did i do something?” and he can hear the pout and the furrowed brow in your voice.

katsuki all but he wraps an arm around to pull you closer, “no. just go to sleep, dumbass.”

you pull yourself up and he panics a little but he can slightly make out the smug grin on playing on your lips and your bright eyes in the dark as you lean on his chest to be level with his face.

“i promise no one under the age of 45 goes to bed at half 9. you’re so lucky you have me,” and before he can ask what you mean on “having you,” you press your lips onto his and it’s ended before it even started. the taste of his mouthwash and your chapstick lingers and he’s stiff all over again.

“anyone would be silly not to love you, even if you act like an old man,” you sigh, bonking your head softly onto his and he inhales deeply, playing with the hem of his shirt draped on your body.

“don’ need anyone else to love me when i have you, right?”

he can see the smile that reaches your eyes, crinkles and all.

“you might be right about that,” you hum and katsuki leans up to nose around your jaw before locking lips with you properly.

katsuki knows that he’s a little difficult to deal with sometimes. to love is a different story altogether. but when you look at him like that: like he has the world on his fingertips, encased in ribbon and inscribed in lettering addressed just for you, he decides that he’ll never accept anything but the best.

even if he is a little bit of a grandpa. but you’d be silly not to love him.

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.

[honeylemonale]

Library handjobs based on Jo’s post here

Bakugou x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

College AU

!!: 18+

“Why’d we have to meet at the library?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes and shoots you a look. “It’s a fucking research assignment.”

“We could’ve looked everything up online,” you complain. You’re right, he could’ve done this assignment at home, but then he wouldn’t have been able to see you in your black skirt. It’s just a touch too short to be deemed ‘appropriate’, but god when else is he going to get to see you bend over in it?

Bakugou looks down at the card in his hand and up at the rows you two slowly pass. “Looks like what we need is at the back.”

When he finally finds the section, there’s no one else around. This is the part of the stacks where no one goes. Even the lighting here is shit. The long forgotten books that are rarely needed.

Your eyes scan up and down the shelves. When you get to the lower ones, you bend slightly, and Bakugou can’t help himself watch the edge of your skirt rise and expose more of your thigh. Did you know that you’re doing it? Or was it all an accident? If you keep bending over and your skirt keeps rising… exposing more and more of your ass for him…

Bakugou bites back a moan. What he would give to sink his fingers into your hips, anchoring himself to you while he grinds against your plush ass. To free his rock hard cock and plunge into you. To–

You stand up and take a step back. Into him.

You stop talking. He stops breathing. Neither of you address his hard length pressed against you.

“Are you–” you start. Heat shoots all the way up to Bakugou’s hairline.

“Of fucking course I am,” Bakugou snaps.

He expects you to step away, maybe leave him here at the back of the stacks. Hell, even confronting him about it. What he doesn’t expect is for you to press harder against him and slowly turn to face him. He chases the friction as your ass finally leaves him.

God what you do to him. One touch and he’s craving more.

“Aw, Katsuki,” you pout with fake sympathy. “You know, if you wanted this, all you had to do was ask.” Your hand snakes down his abs and curls around the evident bulge in his pants.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

Your eyelashes flutter coyly. Bakugou belatedly realizes that you knew exactly what you were doing earlier. You played him and he fell willingly into your plan.

Your fingers make quick work of his pants. Cold air envelops his cock the moment it is free, but the cold is quickly replaced by your warm touch.

He nearly fucks into your hand the moment your fingers curl around his shaft. You give a couple strokes and swirl your thumb over the head. Shiny precum leaks through the tip and you greedily swipe that up too.

He stares mesmerized as you let his dick go and lick the beads running down your thumb. Your tongue, holy fuck. Bakugou’s imagination runs wild – his hands holding your head in place while he fucks into your mouth, you on your knees with spit and cum running down your chin, the mess you’d be making in your panties while you suck him off.

His lust filled day dreams are interrupted by your wet hand tugging at his cock again, the other fondling his balls. While he was lost in thought you spit into your hand for extra lubricant. It was as close as he’d get to actually fucking you.

“Fuck,” Bakugou hisses, “You’re so good at this.” If you keep this pace up, he’ll be finishing in no time at all. He braces himself on the metal bookshelf behind you, his knuckles turning white from his grip. His other hand finds your hip automatically. What should he do? Pull you closer? Slip his thumb into the waistband of your skirt and pull it down? Slide his cock inside your slick folds?

Your hand slows down and Bakugou opens his eyes, not even sure when he closed them. Shit. Has he said all that out loud? Were you going to think he’s some sick fuck who bangs all his research partners whenever he could?

“Bakugou…” you whisper. All he wants is you to speed up again. He was so fucking close.

But he hears it. Two voices floating down the aisles. Working their way left and right. He knows these voices. It’s his fucking roommate and his research partner. No doubt they’d be looking for books in the same section.

There’s only two options as far as Bakugou can see; tuck himself back into his pants and hope that you’re still down later, or go balls to the wall and finish before Idiot 1 and Idiot 2 work their way over to you guys.

Bakugou curls his hand around yours and squeezes before fucking harder into your fist. “Don’t fuckin’ stop.” Can you hear how desperate he is for this? If he could, he'd do so much more with you.

“But…” Even though the words out of your mouth are worried, your hand resumes stroking his length, pumping faster and faster.

“I’m almost there. They won’t know.” He’s bargaining with himself as much as he is with you. He can feel it – the teasing build up deep inside him.

The voices are a row, maybe two away.

You take over the rhythm and bring him to the edge.

“Sh-” Whatever explicative was about to roll off his tongue dies in his mouth and you swiftly fall to your knees and take his whole length.

You, on your knees, legs spread, cheeks hollowed out over his length as he spills his seed into your mouth. Your nose buried in his trimmed pubic hair while the tiniest pinprick of tears in the corners of your eyes make them sparkle. The whole scene takes his breath away.

He bucks once. Twice. Wishes he could stay buried in your throat forever.

Bakugou leans his head against the bookshelf and lets his orgasm flow through him.

A book next to his hand moves.

“Hey Bakugou!” Kirishima, his roommate, greets him. When there’s no answer, Kirishima asks, “Are you doing alright?” Bakugou grunts. Another wave of pleasure and he finishes pouring himself into your mouth. You slowly ease off of him and open your mouth. From his position above you, he sees everything. White coats your tongue and drips out the corner of your mouth. You close and open again, all evidence of what happened gone. Fuck.

“Just fine,” Bakugou smirks. “This project is bustin’ my fucking balls.”

[honeylemonale]

⋆ ☁️˒ — katsuki bakugou masterlist !

Keep reading

[honeylemonale]

cw. gn!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining lmao (if you look extra closely)

“You’re late.”

At the sound of the pro-hero’s all-too-familiar gruff voice, you freeze, ass barely touching the chair you were about to sit on.

From where he sits across from you, Bakugou is now scowling.

Great, you think to yourself. Twenty seconds in and you’ve already triggered the beast.

“Sorry,” you say with the most apologetic smile you can muster. “Something urgent came up.”

At that, his scowl deepens, and his eyes seem to search for something as they flicker over your features. You feel yourself getting warm under the intensity of his gaze.

Three years of working under him and it still flusters you—being studied so blatantly by the #2 Pro-Hero, Bakugou Katsuki.

“What possibly could’ve been more urgent than an important meeting with your fucking boss?”

You internally scoff at his tactlessness, though you manage to seem unfazed on the outside. At the very least, the three years of being the HR head of the Dynamight agency have taught you how to deal with a certain someone.

Bakugou’s eye twitches so minutely, probably out of annoyance brought by the feigned innocence written all over your face.

You could lie and let the conversation move forward. But you’re feeling a little reckless, still reeling from that damned phone call you had a few minutes ago.

So you tell him the truth.

“I just got dumped over the phone.”

You expected a disinterested harrumph in response, not a choking fit over the ice-cold water he just downed.

You jump on your feet, circling the table to—supposedly—gently pat his back. Before you do so, though, you hesitate, hand awkwardly frozen mid-air, wondering for a second if touching any part of your boss’s body could put you in HR danger.

Once you gathered practically everyone in the restaurant’s attention and Bakugou has stopped coughing, you hesitantly circle back and sit on your chair.

“Are you okay?” you ask, as he wipes his mouth angrily with his napkin.

“‘m fine,” he croaks, not meeting your gaze for a moment before finally looking you in the eye.

He looks like he has something to say, but his words never come. His mouth merely opens and closes ever so slightly, you could’ve missed it if you weren’t staring at it.

Why are you staring?

“Great,” you shoot him a smile, grabbing one of the menus and thumbing through the decidedly sticky pages.

A pause.

“...You could’ve canceled, you know.”

At the sound of his uncharacteristically quiet voice, you look up, surprised.

“What?”

He sighs, probably irritated by your confusion. “You could’ve canceled the meeting,” he explains, “I would’ve understood.”

You can’t help but smile at him, the feeling of gratitude blooming in your chest. At the sight of it, he looks away, solemn.

“A commitment is a commitment,” you reply. “We already blocked off the hour to meet with the restaurant owner, and I don’t want to waste your precious time off patrol.”

“...Even though you just got dumped?”

Your heart throbs painfully at the mention of what just happened to you, but you quickly school your expression into a neutral one.

“Especially because I just got dumped.”

He chuckles. “What, you the type to throw yourself into work when life gets extra shitty?”

You playfully roll your eyes at his jab. “Don’t act like you don’t do that yourself, Bakugou-san.”

“I wasn’t,” he defends, smirking as he leans back against his seat. “Was just curious.”

Before you can even register what he just said, a waiter suddenly appears to your right, startling the both of you.

Bakugou then proceeds to order for himself, and as he does so, you study his face despite yourself, heart weirdly thrumming at the implications of what was just said.

“Make sure to have the report ready by 5 PM tomorrow,” he says, breaking the silence as you walk towards where he parked his car. “‘m planning to stop by the office to read it before the night shift starts.”

“Got it.”

Before you know it, you’ve already arrived. Despite yourself, your heart sinks at the thought of going home. Whether it’s because you literally just got dumped unceremoniously or because the surprisingly pleasant meeting is coming to an end, you don’t know.

Bakugou turns to face you, a hand in his pocket and the other fiddling with his keys. “You sure you don’t need a ride?”

You nod. “The bus station is just a few blocks away.”

A silence falls upon you.

Again—there’s that serious look on his face as he studies you so intensely, it almost feels like scrutinizing. You’ve always felt vulnerable under Bakugou’s sharp gaze, but today it’s been extra piercing.

Finally accepting that it’s the end of the day and it’s time to go home, you nod again—more cheerfully this time—before you turn to leave.

You’re about a few feet away from him when he calls your name.

“For what it’s worth,” he semi-shouts, “it’s that dumbass’ loss.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19

[honeylemonale]

Just some Bakugou comfort, tw cheating mention 😊 (from a spooky dream)

"A nightmare?" Is voice is gruff from disuse as he growls into the receiver having had to stay silent most of the morning for this stake out.

You hum your affirmation, it's a sad mmhmm as he hears the tears that threaten through your voice.

"The fuck happened?" And that's when you tell him everything. It was some weird cryptic dream.

His mom was in it and his phone on top of the washing machine. Mitsuki was concerned, sitting on the couch with her legs crossed, solemn look on her face. She had said that Bakugou's grandmother kept texting him an awful lot and that he had a facetime from 2am that lasted more than an hour.

It was currently four am in the dream, and oddly real life, it made your brow furrow before she adds and I don't know the passcode but you did. Unlocking his phone to see several texts from random women and each one had nudes and flirty behavior.

It felt so real you woke up with a pounding heart, scrambling for the comfort of the ash blonde that you wanted to also confront.

But he wasn't in bed making the dream suddenly feel valid and believable

"So I was cheatin?" You grit your teeth at his conclusion, "Fuck would I do that for?"

You don't answer, it lingers, the dream well nightmare and you had called him right away. He mutes his mic for a second and your heart sinks with the weight of accusations and assumptions.

Maybe he wasn't on some stake out with Izuku and Kirishima after all. Maybe these overnight shifts really were something the dream version of his mother was worrying about.

Trying to warn you.

You're about to hang up until you hear something heavy land on the balcony to the master bedroom before Bakugou unmutes his mic.

"Gotta lemme in." Slowly you get up, unlocking the door before rushing back into the covers to hide your naked body. He notices the action, scowling as he comes closer to the bed, hanging up on the call and passing you his phone unlocked.

"Ya gotta be a real dumbass if you think I'm really cheating on you." When you don't take the phone he sits down next to you, holding the bright screen where you can see as he opens the twenty apps his has on his phone. Each one being exactly what it should be, even goes into the few text threads he has. His family group chat with his mom and dad, one with Kirishima, a giant group chat and then a smaller one before showing you the one between you two, which is much much longer than all the other threads combined. Even his photo roll is squeaky clean, just picture after picture of you in various states of dress and consciousness or the cat the two of you have.

His voice turns more serious, leaning over you with his flashlight turned up towards the ceiling so he can see your face and you his.

"I would never do anything to ruin this." Tears threaten to fall down your cheeks and maybe his with how intently he's looking at you, "I love you more than anything in this fuck all world and if you asked me to quit my hero job tonight, for you, I would. Baby you're my entire fuckin world, I need you to know that. If I've gotta move the fuckin moon to show you I will."

And it all rings true, your quirk tells you so, because you can detect any lie, even through hyperbole. Bakugou lovingly called it your bullshit meter and it was never wrong. He pulls you into a hug, fiercely keeping you pinned to him and the mattress, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"I'll tell the guys I can't come back." He's moving away to call them before you shake your head, now you're keeping his broad shoulders in place.

"As much as I love that idea you can't. It's not fair to them." Your voice is soft in his ear, barely a whisper. He peppers you with kisses, slow, deliberate presses.

"Yer sure? I don't give a shit about 'em. Fuck 'em."

"I'm sure."

"Fine." He bites, leaning away when you let go, "But I'm leaving when you wake up again and staring vacation."

"Oh baby don't -" He places his warm palm over your mouth.

"Hush. I'm doin.it." His serious face turns quickly into a devilish smirk, "'Sides, I gotta take all week to show my princess that she's the only one for me."

He gives you just a preview of it, kissing you with such passion it steals the air from your lungs, your quirk going off in your head saying one thing.

That every word of it was true, the entire week was going to be spent worshiping you and your body better be ready for Bakugou's devotion.

[honeylemonale]

you're losing me

synopsis. bakugou proposes to you. you give him an unexpected response.

cw. gn!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged up (28 yrs old), some cussing

word count. 2.5k words

“Where is everybody?”

You ask as you look around the barren restaurant, which, on most days, is jampacked with high-profile customers. How Bakugou was able to get you both a table is beyond you.

“Don’t mind ‘em,” he says before dipping down to finish the rest of his soup. “They’re just a bunch of extras anyway.”

You merely hum in response.

A moment passes with the both of you finishing your appetizers when a question dawns on you.

“By the way,” you start, “what’s the occasion, Kats?”

At that, he frowns. “What, you’re saying I can’t treat my partner whenever I feel like it?”

You snort. “I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that we don’t usually opt for extremely overpriced restaurants.”

You gesture to your evening gown and his suit. “We don’t usually dress up either.”

“Yeah, well. Just go with it, okay?”

You stare at him for a beat before deciding to let it go.

“Okay.”

You’re down to the last bite of your dessert when Bakugou clears his throat. You look up, only to be met with the familiar expression of nervousness decorating his features.

It’s how he looked at you back when he first asked you out three years ago.

“You alright?” you ask.

He nods, “Peachy. Just need to tell you something.”

Almost instantaneously, your heart picks up its pace. You brace yourself for bad news.

“What is it?”

At your query, Bakugou suddenly stands up and circles your table, stopping right in front of you.

And before you could even comprehend what’s happening, he’s already on one knee, holding a small velvet box.

“Y/N.”

At the mention of your name, your heart doubles up its pace.

He continues, but your head is pulsing and your ears throbbing so loudly that you can barely make out the speech he’s currently giving you. You feel lightheaded, as well as the tears welling up in your eyes, clouding your vision.

He sounds uncharacteristically shy when he finally says, “Will you marry me?”

That’s the last thing you hear before you black out.

You’re met with a blinding white light when you come to.

You strain to sit up in order to look around, the movement causing Bakugou, who is on a stool beside your bed, to stir awake.

“Hey,” he says gently. “Take it easy.”

Robbed of all words, you nod, taking heed and slowly lifting yourself up into a seated position.

“Where am I?” you ask.

“The nearest hospital from the restaurant,” he explains. “You fainted.”

“Seriously?”

He nods, face stern. “Thankfully I was able to catch you before your head could hit the ground. We just need to run a few more tests before you get cleared for discharge.”

And with that, the elephant in the room remains as evident as ever.

“Look, Kats,” you start, “about earlier—”

“Let’s not talk about it right now,” he cuts you off. “Come on, let’s get you ready for discharge.”

You barely catch him before he goes to work the next day.

Bakugou’s not a morning person—you found out about that a week into dating him when you noticed how curt his messages were in the mornings—yet he’s now up at 6:24 AM, darting in and out of the rooms in your shared apartment, getting ready for the day.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s rushing to leave.

“You’re awake,” you say lamely as you enter the living room.

He grunts in response, attention directed to the duffel bag he always brings to the office on patrol days.

You want to ask him why he’s up this early, but ultimately decide against it. Instead, you say: “Did you pack your lunch already?”

“Yeah,” he gestures to his bag, “It’s in here.”

“Okay.”

You stand awkwardly by the door as you watch him zip his bag and adjust his civilian clothes that would be swapped in for his winter costume later.

He then walks up to you and presses a kiss on your forehead—so tentatively it makes you ache.

Since when did he get so hesitant with you?

“I’ll go then,” he announces.

And before you know it, the front door shuts, his perfume leaving a nostalgic fragrance in its trail.

Only then do you realize that I love you’s were not exchanged.

The days after are unremarkably the same.

He’s been getting up extra early so that by the time you wake up, he’s already on his way to the agency.

On top of that, he’s starting to work overtime now, too.

Lately, he’s been arriving home as late as almost midnight.

You try to wait up for him—you really do—but with your own work to get to the following mornings, you just couldn’t sustain that arrangement.

And so you rarely see him.

But to your relief, despite everything that’s gone wrong with Bakugou since the night he proposed, you still fall on the same bed at the end of the day.

Albeit his back is turned against you. Still, you’re grateful. There’s a certain comfort that blankets you whenever you’re near Bakugou, and that hasn’t changed one bit.

Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, you mirror him, your back now facing his.

Which is why you don’t notice it until you hear a gasp.

Propping yourself up on your elbow, you look at Bakugou, who’s now sitting upright, chest heaving.

Quickly, you rouse yourself, facing him. “What’s wrong?”

He inhales deeply as his eyes dart towards you, beads of sweat now decorating his forehead.

“Nightmare,” he croaks.

At that, you grab his ice-cold hands, squeezing them in yours. “Do you want to talk about it?”

A beat passes before he reluctantly shakes his head. “It’s just the usual.”

The usual. Being held hostage by that monster, getting kidnapped, being responsible for All Might’s—

“It doesn’t matter if it’s new or not,” you retort, squeezing his hands again in an attempt to anchor him to reality. “I’m here to listen, alright?”

Bakugou hesitates for a second before nodding, a pained expression written across his face.

He starts to lean in closer, probably to drop his head at the crook of your neck like he usually does when plagued with nightmares, before hesitating and leaning back.

“Okay.”

The next morning, you wake up not only to an empty bed, but an empty house.

Still half asleep, you trudge your way toward the kitchen, where a bento box is sitting on the island. On top of it is a sticky note that reads:

Going out w the guys after shift. Don’t wait up.

Your heart sinks at the thought of not being able to see Bakugou for the day.

Still, maybe he needs this night out.

You wouldn’t want to spend time with the person who rejected you either.

With a heavy heart, you get ready for the day yourself.

Work is the least of your concerns this morning, but you figure you have to go. You could use some distraction to take your mind off your crumbling relationship.

You’re in your bed reading that non-fiction you’ve been putting off for a while now when your phone rings.

You reach for your phone, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Kirishima’s caller ID.

Huh.

You press the green button after a few seconds of letting it ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N!” a cheery voice greets you. “This is Kirishima.”

“Hey, Ei,” you start, weirdly nervous. “How are you and the rest of the squad?”

“Actually, that’s why I called you. Can you pick Bakugou up? He’s so drunk.”

Your Katsuki? Drunk?

For some reason, the idea of talking to a drunk Bakugou, who also happens to be the bluntest version of himself, elicits an unpleasant feeling in your gut.

“Really?” you ask, voice small. “How much did he drink?”

“Not a lot, but the alcohol percentage of the ones he downed are pretty high.”

When you don’t respond for a while, he pipes up with: “Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Kirishima sounds unsure when he asks, “Is everything okay with you guys?”

“Yes, Ei.” No, Ei. I inadvertently rejected his marriage proposal.

“Okay, that’s good to hear,” he starts. “It’s just that he barely mentioned you when he was still sober—which is a rare occurrence, if you only knew. He only started calling for you when he was three glasses in.”

Despite yourself, your stomach flips in delight. He’s still thinking about me, you think to yourself.

“Anyway, as I was saying, are you good to fetch him?”

“Yes,” you stand up and grab for your keys. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

You’re situating the car in your designated parking space when Bakugou finally stirs awake.

Once you’re parked, you turn off the engine before you reach over the console to unfasten his seatbelt. Yours follows shortly after.

You look at him, whose eyes are still closed.

“We’re here, Kats.”

At the sound of your voice, his eyes shoot open and he examines his environment, alarmed. Once he catches sight of you, though, he visibly relaxes.

Only to straighten up in his seat, stiff and unable to look you in the eye.

“You didn’t have to, uh,” he stammers, struggling to formulate coherent sentences. “Get me. You didn’t have to get me.”

You shoot him a small smile. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, eyes trained on your car’s windshield.

A moment passes before he speaks again.

“My mom made me do it, you know.”

You stare at his side profile. “Made you do what?”

“Propose to you.”

“Oh.”

He shakes his head, almost in disagreement. “The old hag really wants me to get married. I told her we didn’t have to get married because we’re happy the way things are and that shit is just for formality. Told me I’d be missing out on you wearing a wedding dress.”

You snort, “That’s what convinced you to ask me?”

He grins. “Nah. I just realized I wanted to get married if it was to you.”

Before you can even react, Bakugou shifts in his seat, breaking eye contact.

“It was stupid of me, though.”

Your stomach drops in anticipatory dread. “Stupid of you to what?”

He chuckles, although he seems anything but happy. “Was stupid of me to think someone like you would say yes to someone like me.

“I—” he stutters, “I wouldn’t marry me either.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs, “Just…who the fuck do I think am, proposing to you? I was a horrible person who fucked things up so many times growing up. Maybe this is karma biting me back in the ass.”

“Katsuki.”

“You can do way be—”

“Katsuki!”

He jerks his head to face you, bewildered and eyes glassy.

You reach over the console to hold his scarred hand, staring him down.

“Look at me.”

He does so.

“You’re not that person anymore, alright?” You squeeze his hand, “Please don’t do this to yourself.”

Under the intensity of your gaze, Bakugou can only nod in affirmation before you engulf him in your first hug in what feels like weeks.

“Come on,” you say when you finally part, “Let’s get you ready for bed.”

Bakugou sleeps like a baby by your side that night. Meanwhile, you stay up until the wee hours of the morning, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

He thinks you don’t want to marry him.

Your heart aches at the very thought of him grappling with the most false of all statements.

You want to marry him, you really do, but all your fears suddenly rose to the surface and enveloped you the second he went on one knee.

And that’s what you’re planning to confess to him tonight.

You wait, wrapped in the thickest jacket you own, seated on the bench for Bakugou to come. You left him a note alongside his bento box earlier this morning—a note that says to meet you at the indicated address.

Lost in your thoughts and in your internal monologue, you startle when somebody sits next to you.

You look to your right, only to see Bakugou in his thickest jacket, a gray beanie covering his ash blonde locks, cheeks pink from the cold.

“Do you remember this place?” you ask, voice quiet.

He scoffs, “Of course I do, dumbass.”

At that, you chuckle. “This is where we had our first date.”

He grunts in agreement. He doesn’t say anything after that.

A few seconds pass before he finally pipes up with: “So why did you bring me here?”

Your heart’s pace quickens at the query.

You gulp, although your voice still ends up shaky. “I wanted to apologize.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

You shake your head, “You don’t understand.”

He chuckles, that same one that translates to anything but happiness. “I think I do. You don’t want to marry me, I get it.”

“No,” you say, voice louder. “I want to marry you.”

At your admission, Bakugou turns to look you in the eye. The hopeful expression on his face is staggering, you want to curl up into a ball and cry. “What?”

“I said,” you repeat, “I want to marry you.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Then why have you been acting like you don’t?”

At his question, you can’t help but clench your eyes closed. This is too much, you think to yourself, but you owe Bakugou the truth.

“I’m just scared, Kats. Truly. I—” you stammer, “I just can’t shake off the fear of losing you one day. And I know your capabilities and I know how hard you work. Just that—I don’t know. The fear of seeing you killed one day is paralyzing.”

Bakugou reaches out to you, and you let him wipe away the tears that are now falling down your cheeks.

“I’m scared, too,” he offers. “But I don’t know.”

He shakes his head, “I’m more scared of not being with you.”

At his confession, you can’t help the smile. “I think that’s how I feel, too.”

You rest your head on Bakugou’s shoulder, your hand in his. You stay like that for a few minutes before you pull away and turn to regard him again.

“Can we start over?” you ask, “I want to propose to you soon.”

Bakugou grins, nothing but elation on his face. He takes your other hand and squeezes it.

“Not if I propose to you first.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19

as always, reblogs, comments, and tags are appreciated <3