#just a quick drabble!

[ancha-aus]

NewAgeAU Drabble - A Glance into the Future

I am back And this time with a little story that i hid from view >:D mostly because i didn't want to add even MORE to your to do list spot lmao.

Something that @spotaus and I spoke very lightly about so Spot! I think even YOU didn't expect this little plothook!

How about... We let Epic have some fun :3

Just because...

XTale Frisk is Fennel (Age 11). XTale Chara is Carnation (age 11). XTale Asriel is technically Zeus (age 12) , also called Zu-zu by the two slightly younger humans :D And Cross, sadly, is still called Ten (age 14).

*--------------------------------*

Epic watches the street as the couple sits at the little table in the sun. The guy pulls out the chair for the woman and she happily sits down as he pushes in the chair.

Nice moves dude.

Sadly it will be ruined in about twenty minutes because of rain.

The rain will soak her white shirt and make her bra see through. The guy will be too late with mentioning it and she will curse him out for being a creep and weirdo instead of just warning her when he first saw it!

She will start to walk away and the guy will call out to her, she will turn around to see what he saw to say.

Only for a cart to raise past and splash the newly formed mud puddle right behind her. Splashing her back with the mud and covering her completely.

She will not agree to a third date.

Epic could try and walk over and make up a story. How the future whispers secrets that it wishes to share...

Epic closes his other socket and concentrates. He lets the visions come to his mind and frowns. Mmh... Seems like there is no real way to make them listen to him. And even if he does they will not believe the incoming rain. Which means he may speak the truth about the rain and a lie in saying they will see this through together. Neither of them will be thinking about his talk as soon as the rain starts.

Epic opens his normal socket as he grabs one of the from the small plate. These are some good cookies, and honestly the only reason he is in Ritten. According to his visions these are the best cookies he can get at the moment. He knows that in the future there will be even better options but the location on that is still unclear.

The best cookies he will be able to get will be these red velvet cookies with different types of chocolate... From what he has seen in his vision will will either be in Sanctuary or in Orchard. Sanctuary will be much quicker as there will just be a shop he thinks. But Orchard it will be harder seeing as he needs to be friends with someone? He thinks... He will need to be let into the castle itself?

Though it does make sense for the king there to have the best cook...

Epic frowns and concentrates but he still does not get a clear vision on the King of Orchard. It is always hard to concentrate there. Too many different people all influencing the streams of time. Making it a muddy mess to look into.

It had seemed like such a fun idea. Picking the future as his area of focus back in school. To learn how to fully utilise his own faith and destiny!

At least he wasn't stuck seeing stuff in differeny colours and hues like Color. Epic thinks his homie is now just being a jack-of-all-trades. Color may not be crazy good at one thing but with the fact his specialty is pretty much adaptation it means he can always make stuff work.

Epic is just clairvoyant. Which works fine, seeing as he can make a living and he still has his specialty.

Even if he gave up the use of one of his eyes and can't perceive depth anymore. As soon as he opens his socket he will see all the most likely futures a person has. Which really isn't that bad, unless he is in a city and busy area which he almost always is.

Best to keep it closed unless he is with a client.

He takes another bite when he hears running steps. He focuses for a moment and sees it before him. Two children. He thinks both are human looking. Laughing together as they run through the streets. They will see his shop and walk over.

Epic frowns. He doesn't usually get visions this clear. It is almost as if there is no way they will not visit him. Strange but that is fun! He hasn't been able to do many readings for kids. Something about parents not trusting him to not lie.

And hey! Sure! Maybe he will lie to them but only to keep him excited and happy! And he always make sure it is something that motivates them and is safe to them!

He finishes his bite as he hears their voices. As soon as he does his vision gains their voices as well.

"Quick! or Zu-zu will catch us!"

Laughter "I know I know!"

They are laughing when they turn the corner and both stop and both the kids tilt their heads as they see him.

Epic just raises his hand in a wave "Sup little dudes." and he takes another bite of his almost finished cookie.

The two share a look before glancing at the sign outside his shop. Epic takes the time to look them over. One is wearing the mark of the King of Ritten. The X mark. They are wearing black leather and Epic can spot a sword on their back. Their hair is white and a little taller than the other. The second human's hair is black and their eyes are squinted shut slightly. The two don't seem blood related but Epic knows better than to assume or judge as you never know.

The human with black hair frowns at him "Future readings?"

Epic shrugs as he finished chewing "Yup!" he grins "So waht can I help you two with?"

The human with white hair snorts as they cross their arms "Shouldn't you know already? With future vision and stuff?" The other nods and mimicks the first one's pose.

Epic hums as he looks at his cookie. It only takes a second, maybe even less time, to search the direct future. What if he asks for their names? They will both roll their eyes but give them to him. The white haired person is Carnation and the black haired person is Fennel.

Epic hums "I mean. I could assume you and Fennel want a reading. But it is rude to assume, isn't it Carnation?" and he grins as he finishes his cookie.

Carnation looks shocked but Fennel isn't as impressed "Please. Everyone knows me thanks to mom and dad or Zu-zu. And Carn's name is also well known as the lands, and probably the worlds! youngest fighter and warrior!" and they huff. Clearly very proud of Carnation and protective.

Carnation looks amused and nods "Good point Fennel."

Epic hums "Ah, yes, sceptics. They appear younger and younger every year."

Fennel huffs "Just because we are kids doesn't mean we are naive!"

Epic raises a brow as he tilts his skull "I never said or implied that." he shrugs as he leans back in his chair "Want a reading?" and grins.

Fennel and Carnation share a look and Epic lets his mind check the different streams. Fennel always seems hesitant in all of them. But if it is doubt in him or if Fennel is scared that something he doens't want to get out gets seen... it is unsure.

Carnation however? They want a reading. Each stream he looks at Carnation will hint at just wanting to check it out. In some of them they say they just want to get a good laugh while in others they offer that if Epic really sees the future that Epic may be a good asset.

He searches the different streams and finds his line. He leans back and puts his feet on top of his desk "It is alright. Pick whatever. I already knoww the answer anyway." and he waits.

Fennel and Carnation share a look. Fennel huffs as they cross their arms "We need to go. this guy is clearly a scam."

Carnation eyes his store "I mean... what is the harm? If we leave this area we will get in sight of Zeus again..."

Fennel frowns and glares at the main road. Clearly not done with their fun yet.

Epic grins as he leans on a hand "It is fine. One reading it only 5 gold a person." he taps his sign.

The two humans share a look and Fennel gives Carnation a nod. Carnation grins but Fennel grabs their arm. Fennel looks at him challenging "We are both there for each others's reading." it is a demand more than anything.

Epic snorts "Sure!" he gets up and turns his little card from 'Free' to 'Busy' he waves them over as he disappears into his little tent.

There is barely enough room for everything. There is his spot, a small table, and two other cushions for his guests to sit on. It is good that he had a feeling this morning to get two cushions out. Even if that means he needs to climb over his table to get his own spot.

He just turns around and sits on top of his cushion when the two step fully inside over just watching.

Epic grins as he waves them in. He puts his elbows on his letting table as he leans on his hands. He opens his normally shut socket and he knows his purple eye is bright as always "Welcome. To the window to your future."

Fennel and Carnation share another look before slowly walking in and taking their seats.

Epic grins and focusses on Fennel "You first I assume?"

Fennel frowns. Epic knows they would want Fennel to go first. Epic figures they are now wondering if Epic just had a lucky guess, or if he truly knew knew.

Fennel nods as they look challenging "So waht will you use? A crystal ball? A set of cards? Dice?" and they wait. the mockery is obvious in their voice.

Epic grins and just taps his skull and socket "Nah, just good old magic." and he focusses in on Fennel.

The time streams from Carnation are being a small interferance and makes the water abit muddier but all in all it is still rather clear to him.

The problem is that when looking into the future you don't always see things that matter. He may not even see soemthing nice and only see bad things. What he sees depends fully on what is most likely to happen, not on what is the most interesting.

It is why he generally lies in these sessions. It doesn't matter if what he sells is true. If it is boring people are going to be mad about it. instead he always searches the future for hints on what the person wants or likes and works with that.

Unless you are an asshole. Than he searches the streams for the line that most annoys them and then gives them directions that way.

Seeing someone directly makes it easier, having someone nearby makes the them in that stream also show up. Instead of just seeing Fennel with people shaped shapes he can now see Carnation clearly if they appear in Fennel's streams.

He is happy that searching the streams doesn't take much time. For him he sees a thousant options but for everyone around him it has been a second at most.

He doesn't spot anything truly interesting. Seems like he is guestimating in that case. He focusses on random streams and travels them down further than he usually would.

Mmh... Curious... But alright... He is very excited about... something? A second bed in his room? Mmh.

He sees a garden. Fennel is taking take of some of them. There is a table... Two glasses and more tools... Wait... Carnation is also in the garden. they are by the roses. They are wearing garden gloves which are bright red in colour.

Epic nods as he focusses back on Fennel "Seems like there is a surprise for you in the future. I saw another bed in your room. Two in total with a small dresser near it. Seems like you will soon get a roommate." Not sure if it is permanent but it will work. "Aside from that. When you are a bit older, I think when you are starting to grow taller quicker. You and Carnation both will be in the garden. You will be by the tulips taking careful care to check for weeds while Carnation will be wearing red gloves and trimming some of the rose bushes." and Epic smiles "That is all for now."

Fennel looks in shock and there is a small hope in those eyes. Seems like Epic picked the right vision to share. Fennel had looked excited about the second bed after all. Fennel the frowns as they cross their arms "That is fake. XGaster would never let Carnation join in on garden time."

Epic shrugs "I can only tell you what I see and waht the future holds. If you believe it or reach it is up to you."

Carnation looks hopeful "I mean.... Maybe... if your mom and dad get their way..."

Fennel frowns before nodding "I guess..." then they lay down the five gold and scoot a bit to the side to make more room for Carnation.

Carnation scoots over and stares at him "Go for it."

Epic nods and focusses and...

That is... weird...

The streams... all of them are very unclear. This usually only happens when someone is in mortal danger... When it isn't even clear if they will live... But there is an option they can survive and live. Epic saw them in Fennel's streams after all. And even if the water is muddy he can still focus.

It is difficult to see the images. It is like trying to see the bottom of the river when it is unclear. There is stuff in the way.

Shit he needs more time to focus.

Epic hums "Your future is unclearer than Fennel's...." Fennel rolls they eyes as Carnation just waits. Epic tilts his skull "You are in a lot of danger." just a fact.

Fennel snorts "Duh. they are a warrior. We told you that when we first met." they lean towards Carnation "I told you this was a scam."

Carnation however waits. They are watching him as they remain silent. They want something specific out of this.

Okay. If he finds what they want... he can try to focus on following streams that could lead him to a possible answer. He looks shortly into his future, mentally following the stream where he disappoints Carnation and send them away without a reading. Their voices are slightly unclear but he manages.

"I told you he was a scammer!"

"I know... it is just... I had hoped..."

Fennel will look at Carnation with a raised brow "Really? Still the wedding stuff?"

Carnation looks embarrassed "It is just! He gets it! While Nine always leaves and dismisses us Ten is nice! He is a bit dumb and slow but he doens't leave me behind or tells me I was weak even when he manages the new move quickly and I don't! I just... I figured... Once I was strong he would... you know... Know what I know..."

Fennel frowns before shrugging "Eh. Fair enough... and I think you can just marry him... It isn't as much convincing him as it is convincing XGaster or... well." Fennel grins "Convince mom and dad by that time hopefully."

Carnation grins and nods "Yeah... Yeah! you are right!"

Huh... Interest? In love? Scared for rejection?

He can work with this.

Epic looks back at Carnation "I am unsure why... but the number ten keeps coming to mind." as soon as he says it Carnation sits up straight and even Fennel looks shocked.

They train together. So it is likely they will stick together. "I think of a training room... of you and the number ten in there... It is a rather strange vision..." He grins.

Carnation stares in shock "What else?!"

Epic thinks for a moment and focusses. He sees carnation making drawings. Of themselves in a suit and another figure in a wedding dress it seems...

Epic thinks over his words before grinning a bit "It is a bit unclear... and not certain in the least... but there is an option where I see you planning wedding outfits." grins and shrugs "This was the reading. It is much more energy and time consuming to get a clearer view."

Carnation clearly does not care as they drop ten gold on the table "Five for the one you just gave me. Five for more." and they wait.

But before he can answer them the curtain draws open and there is a skeleton in white armour with small X-patterns and belts all over it. They look inside before giving a small bow "Fennel, Carnation, Your brother Zeus is looking fro you two."

Carnation looks panicked at the gold and Epic before glancing at the skeleton.

Fennel however is grinning "Ten! Quick! join us! You can get a reading!" Carnation glares at their friend as Fennel grins.

Ten blinks "Why would I need a reading? I know my patha nd future."

Fennel wiggles their eyebrows "Who knows? Maybe a small surprise in the future?"

Ten stares for a moment before nodding "If that is what you wish me to do." and he walks over as Fennel qucikly makes room for Ten to sit on their spot. Carnation sits nervously in place. Ten stares at him and waits.

Epic concentrates and his mind is FILLED with different streams flowing all at the same time! Different directions just intersecting before branching off slightly. Some faster than others.

He sees Ten standing in a forest. Many figures around him and many bright cheerful colours. He is near some figures and loks older. He is no longer wearing the white armour or the marks of Ritten. Another show of him working on the docks. Carrying crates as he goes from teh ship to a storage. He isn't wearing armour at all here, instead just easy to more in work clothes. A path where he is walking hand in hand with another figure, vaguely shaped like a skeleton, the only true obvious thing are the magical markers which shows they are from Sanctuary. Another where he is traveling with someone, again, but they are a colourful and Ten is carrying a small portrait of himself in his hands, he mutters about the other not having had to make that for him. Another route where... where... Epic is there... Epic is in this vision. He and Ten, no Cross, are laughing and walking around. They are in Sanctuary and they are going to get drinks. Another shot of Cross in a training room with four others, there is a large magical energy here. He spots Cross standing at attention, one of those rare and valuable Orachard masks on his face.

Many paths. Many streams. Epic isn't sure whihc belongs to which. They intersect and interact together. Some streams seem the same until they split.

But two things are clear.

One, none of his streams show Ritten. His paths never lead to Ritten.

Two, he is happy.

He needs something! Something to tell his... future friend. Telling him he will leave or find happiness soemwhere else will just make him stubborn. Epic can see it. Cross will feel insulted with the very idea that he would betray his father and position. That he would betray his country. No. That isn't the answer. Not to forget that Carnation is convinced he will marry Cross, which, sorry kid. Cross has zero interest in you as it is either that skeleton from Sanctuary, or with Sanctuary roots, or the single life for his bestie.

He finds it. The answer. It is at the docks... it is in a bottle between the masks in the office. It always makes some sort of appearance.

Epic looks at Cross "I see a ship in your future."

Ten tilts his skull as Carnation mutters "A mission?"

Epic keeps looking at Cross. "Large white sails. Yellow markings on dark brown planks. Black ropes. And that the very front, instead of a statue mermaid I see the statue of an angel." He grins "The ship... that is what your path will lead. The ship leads to... home." and he grins.

Cross frowns and Epic sneaks into the future. a future conversation where Fennel will ask Cross what he thinks it meant. Cross will mention that he thinks it is just that he may get lost on a mission and that the ship will be the way back to Ritten. Carnation will later tell Fennel that they are sure that ship will bring them to their honeymoon.

With time... hopefully Cross will realise the ship will lead him towards his freedom.

The three say their goodbyes and they leave.

Epic grabs the last cookie as he closes his purple eye again. His energy is low but it was well worth it.

He hopes he gets to befriend him soon. But for now? Epic will stay patient and not interfer.

he won't risk his friend escaping and finding happiness.

[seumyo]

will bakugou choose seoul, korea or your wedding anniversary?

Bakugou had turned the damn house upside down three times.

“Where the hell is it?” He hissed under his breath, storming through the hallway closet for the third time in two days. He’d torn apart the shoe rack, the document folders, and even flipped through the cookbooks in the kitchen, just in case he’d used it as a bookmark. No dice. The damn passport was still missing.

His hair was sticking up more than usual—half from stress, half from the static of the hoodie he’d thrown on that morning in frustration. They were supposed to leave for Korea in three days. Three. It was the biggest pro-hero conference he’d ever been invited to—panel talks, interviews, awards. Best Jeanist, Lemillion, and even Halfie had their confirmations sent in already.

And what did he have?

An expired copy of his license (he got a new one; the expired one’s just in his drawer), a half-crushed protein bar, and a very pouty, very pregnant wife in the living room.

You had your feet up on the couch, ankles slightly swollen beneath the oversized hoodie you’d stolen from his wardrobe. You were scrolling on your phone with one hand, the other resting on your baby bump, lazily tracing circles. When Bakugou stomped past, you looked up with the slow blink of a cat.

“Still lost?” you asked, not bothering to hide your amusement. Even laughed under your breath.

The audacity, he thinks, though it wasn’t frustration. He could never be mad at you.

Because he knows you’ll get mad at him, too.

Bakugou didn’t answer. He grunted instead, pulling out another drawer in the cabinet near the TV.

“Maybe it grew legs and walked off,” you teased. “Or maybe your big fat ego swallowed it.”

He shot you a look. “Not helping.”

You hummed. “Not trying to.”

Your pout had gotten more dramatic since hitting six months. Bakugou noticed it more these days, how you’d stare down your food like it personally offended you, or how you’d sigh theatrically every time the topic of even him leaving the house came up. At first, you’d been supportive—even joked that you’d video call him during the conference and heckle him from the screen. But once you found out the biggest day of the event landed on your wedding anniversary, the whole game changed.

Suddenly he feels like he’s on house arrest.

“Maybe it’s a sign,” you murmured, taking a sip of the juice he made you this morning. “Maybe you’re meant to stay home this time.”

Bakugou scoffed. As if.

“Ain’t no damn sign. It’s just misplacin’ shit.”

“You don’t have to go,” you said again. “You could stay. Cuddle me. Eat cake. Listen to me cry about clouds.”

“You said I could go if I find my passport,” he pouts, brows furrowed, and his lips jutted slightly.

“I did, and don’t be mad,” you replied. “I want you to go. Really. You’ve worked so hard.”

“Then why do you look like you wanna punch me in the throat?”

You blinked at him. “Because it’s our anniversary and I’m hormonal. Sue me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So I hope you don’t find it.”

That was the end of that conversation.

-

The night before their anniversary came sooner than expected.

Bakugou had made a reservation at one of the nicest rooftop restaurants in the city. Private booth, soft fairy lights, cityscape twinkling behind them. The host even laid a small bouquet of lavender on the table when he told them it was for a special occasion. He hadn’t told you where you were going, only grunted, “Wear that dress you like—that comfy one. You know the one.”

He hadn’t mentioned anything new about the passport ordeal. You, who figured he’d either given up or accepted fate, were mostly content to enjoy the evening.

You looked like a dream, so his focus was entirely on you. Someone who he somehow managed to have (maybe his bond with his guardian angels came in clutch and even contacted Cupid himself to arrange an arrow for you two).

You waddled into the restaurant, cheeks a little fuller, eyes glowing. He still looked at you like he couldn’t believe he got so lucky. He thinks it makes you shy, how intense his gaze got, even after everything—the morning sickness, the mood swings, the late-night hospital runs due to paranoia.

“You okay?” he asked, placing a hand on your lower back as you walked in.

“Mm,” you hummed, leaning into his touch. You could barely hide your smile at this point. “You’re staring.”

He didn’t even deny it. “I am? So what? Can’t a man just appreciate his wife?”

Dinner went well, for the most part.

You had one hand on your belly, the other wrapped around his fingers on the table. You were halfway through your chocolate mousse when Bakugou reached into his jacket pocket and slid something across the table.

“No,” you said slowly, setting your spoon down. “You didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did.”

He didn’t look smug at all, more like... hopeful.

Your brows furrowed. You reached for the passport, flipping it open.

There it was. His damn passport. Found. Intact. Stamped. His most recent picture was taken only a few months ago.

Yoh stared at it. Then at you. Then back at it again.

“…You found it?”

“Yup.”

“Where was it?”

He cleared his throat, gaze shifting to the side.

“…Behind the dresser in the guest room. Stuffed in that red envelope labeled ‘Important Shit,’ which you labeled in your handwriting, by the way.”

You paused. Your cheeks puffed again as your lips turned downward in the softest pout he’d ever seen. You looked down at your half-eaten dessert, spoon idle.

“You’re really gonna go?”

“I want to,” he admitted. “But I don’t wanna leave you pissed off and lonely, either.”

You didn’t say anything at first. Just poked at your mousse with your spoon. Your lashes were low, and he could tell you were struggling. Not angry, just…sad.

Finally, you said, “It’s just one. It’s just one anniversary. We’ll have dozens more, right?”

“We will. We’ll have centuries more.”

“…And you’ll video call me. Every day.”

“Morning and night.”

“And text me when you land. And when you eat. And when you leave the venue. And—”

Bakugou reached across the table and tugged gently at your hand. His hands are rough against yours, but they’re filled with sincerity and utmost love that a man could give to his wife.

“Hey.”

You looked up.

His voice softened.

“Seriously, d’ya think I’d leave you without a plan?”

You blinked.

“I’m leavin’ you flowers and your cake. I told Kirishima to drop off that spa basket thing you said you wanted last month. And your mom’s stayin’ over the night of. I made sure. I even stocked the fridge.”

Your mouth parted slightly, tilting your head to the side. “You…did all that?”

“Yeah.” He looked almost bashful now, scratching the back of his neck. “Didn’t want you to think I forgot. Even if I ain’t here physically. I’m still here.”

Your eyes shimmered just a bit. A good sign, Bakugou notes.

Then you smiled—soft and tired and affectionate.

“God, you’re gonna make me cry.”

“Tch. Don’t cry. I’ll look like an asshole.”

You laughed then, nose crinkling. “You are an asshole. But a sweet one.”

“Yeah, you love me.”

“I do.”

You two didn’t talk about the passport again that night. Not after that.

Instead, you finished dessert. Slowly. Your hand stayed in his the whole time.

When you walked out of the restaurant, he kept his arm around your shoulders, guiding you carefully down the steps like you were made of glass. You leaned into him, soft and warm, your belly pressing into his side.

And when they got home, you told him, “Let’s open the anniversary cake early.”

He didn’t say no. Not when you looked that happy. It doesn’t matter that he’s already full from the chocolate mousse you two had earlier.

When night finally settled, and Bakugou’s wiping the excess frosting off the corners of your lips with a napkin, he hears you say, “Come home soon, okay?”

He nodded, then softly kissed the crown of your head.

“Always.”

Always come home to you.

-

The morning of Bakugou’s flight started earlier than usual.

He had been up before the alarm even went off, brushing his teeth with the kind of intensity that only came from years of military-grade discipline… or nerves (also because he wants all bad germs on his mouth to die). Not that he’d ever admit to the latter. He stood in front of the mirror, towel slung low on his hips, steam curling from the hot shower as he stared at his reflection.

This was it. The day he was supposed to fly out to Korea.

Except—he wasn’t going.

Not really.

He’d made his decision last night, somewhere between the weight of your hug and the feel of your heartbeat against his body when you fell asleep on his chest. The moment you started snoring softly, your nose slightly buried in his shirt, he realized there was no way in hell he was getting on that plane.

Not this time.

But you didn’t need to know that just yet.

Because if there was one thing Bakugou knew about his wife, it was that you’d throw a fit if he skipped a life-changing professional opportunity just to spend your anniversary folding baby laundry and rubbing your swollen ankles. Plus, he knew you’d never allow him to stay. And if you knew he was lying about leaving, you’d huff and puff until he actually made him go.

So, he planned ahead. Like a goddamn mastermind.

By the time you woke up—slightly groggy with pillow lines on your cheek—he had already “packed.” His suitcase was zipped shut and positioned neatly by the door. His travel duffle bag sat upright next to it. His travel documents were tucked inside an envelope labeled “Do Not Open Unless Emergency.” (Totally blank inside.)

You blinked at him sleepily, rubbing your eyes as you waddled into the living room in his oversized T-shirt. One of the many shirts he was sure was missing from his closet.

“You already packed?” you murmured, voice small and pouty.

He turned from the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. Acting too nonchalant to not give anything away.

“Yeah,” he said. “Didn’t wanna rush.”

You crossed your arms over your bump. “It’s only a three-hour flight, Katsuki. Not an expedition to the Arctic.”

“Still gotta prep,” he said, biting back a grin.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, but the smell of something sweet distracted you. Bingo.

He stepped aside, revealing a neatly arranged dessert box sitting on the counter. Inside: four of your favorites—strawberry shortcake with extra whipped cream, a slice of creamy Basque burnt cheesecake, a generous portion of tiramisu, and your current obsession: mango sticky rice.

“You bought me desserts?” you awed.

“I bought you a stack,” he corrected. “Don’t think I don’t know you get all sad and start craving sugar when I leave.”

You scoffed. “I do not.”

“You do,” he said, crossing his arms smugly. “You pouted so hard last time I left, I came back to find the fridge empty and you passed out with a half-eaten ice cream tub on the couch.”

“That was one time!”

“And I’m not takin’ chances.”

He bent forward, pressed a kiss to your cheek, then to your rounded belly. “Eat well. Don’t lift anything heavy. Text me when you’re sleepy. I’ll land by lunch. Kirishima’s already on the way, but it’ll take a while because of traffic since the bridge is getting repaired.”

“You’re acting suspicious,” you said, frowning as you clung to his shirt. “You never say goodbye this… nicely.”

“That’s rude,” he muttered. “I’m always nice.”

“No, you’re normally grumpy and say something like, ‘Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.’”

He smirked. You weren’t wrong entirely.

“Well, maybe I don’t wanna come back to find out you’ve cried over an empty dessert box.”

Your lip wobbled, and he kissed you again—softly this time, with an extra squeeze to your waist.

“I’ll be back before you know it. It’s just for two nights.”

-

He left around nine. Or at least, pretended to.

Instead of heading to the airport, he drove straight to his agency, parked in the underground garage, and holed up in his office. There was a bottle of juice in the mini fridge, emergency snacks in the bottom drawer, and an absurd number of congratulatory emails flooding his inbox that he ignored.

The hours ticked by slowly.

He checked his phone a dozen times. No calls. No texts. Just one blurry photo from you of the dessert box with the caption: You’re lucky I’m in a sugar coma right now. Or I’d be mad you left without triple kissing me goodbye.

He snorted.

Around lunchtime, he got restless. Then irritated.

Then, at exactly 1:00 P.M., he got in the car and drove home.

No warning.

No heads-up.

He half-expected you to be lounging in the living room, watching drama reruns and fanning yourself while complaining about heartburn. But when he pulled up the driveway and unlocked the front door—

The house was suspiciously quiet.

His brows pulled together.

“[Name]?” he called out, stepping in.

Nothing.

He frowned and shut the door behind him, stepping out of his boots. He heard a thud from the back hallway. Then a low grunt. A shuffle.

His eyes narrowed.

Then he heard you muttering.

“Come on, come on, I’m not that heavy—”

He rounded the corner—and stopped cold.

There you were.

Standing in the hallway. Sweaty. Red-faced. Holding a large box half your size with both hands, your bump barely giving you enough room to balance it. Your lip was caught between your teeth as you struggled to carry what was definitely one of the boxes he had explicitly labeled: Do Not Touch.

“…What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You screamed.

You literally screamed—jumping nearly out of your skin, eyes wide like you saw a ghost.

Or a burglar.

Or both, at this point.

“—Katsuki! I thought you were in Korea—what the hell—”

“Put the box down.”

“You can’t just walk in like that, I thought—I—”

“Put it down, [Name].”

You dropped it with a loud thunk, wobbling backward and grabbing your shoulders.

“Oh my god, I thought you were a home invader! I was ready to throw a candle at you—why are you back?!”

Bakugou marched toward you, still wide-eyed with a mixture of rage and pure panic. He can’t believe this at all. “More importantly, why the fuck are you lifting boxes?!”

“I was bored!”

“Bored? So you decided to tear a disc and pop a blood vessel?!”

“I didn’t tear anything! And it wasn’t heavy; it’s mostly baby blankets!”

He crouched down instantly to pick it up—still heavy, despite your excuses—and carried it to the nursery, grumbling the entire way. “Goddamn woman’s gonna give me a stroke,” he muttered, though there was never any heat in his words.

You waddled after him, still stunned.

“Wait. Why are you here?!”

“I never left.”

“You… what?”

“I stayed at the agency. Figured I’d come back after you thought I was gone. Catch you red-handed.”

“You liar!”

He turned toward you, his frustration subsiding.

“You’re not even a good liar! You went full fake goodbye mode this morning! You even left me mango sticky rice!”

“Yeah. ‘Cause I knew you’d snoop around and start being reckless the second you thought no one was watching.”

Your cheeks puffed up again. That damn pout.

“I was just nesting,” you mumbled.

“Nesting doesn’t involve deadlifting half a closet,” he shot back. “You promised you’d take it easy.”

“…I thought you were in Korea.”

“Yeah, well, again, surprise.”

You blinked up at him again, eyes soft now, overwhelmed. “…You really stayed just for me?”

When he sets the boxes down, he exhaled and cupped your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye. “You really thought I’d leave you alone on our anniversary? Pregnant? Carrying boxes? Eating dessert by yourself? What do you take me for? A shitty husband?”

You hit his chest weakly.

“You’re so unfair,” you muttered.

“I know,” he grinned. “And I love you.”

You melted then. Completely.

Wrapping your arms around him, your bump pressing into his stomach, you buried your face in his chest and whispered: “I love you too, you dramatic maniac.”

That night, there was no flight. No press. No conference.

Just takeout on the couch, your feet in his lap, mango sticky rice on your plate, and his hand splayed across your belly like a homecoming gift.

Bakugou may have missed a headline.

But he made the right choice.

And that mattered more.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

unashamed

words: 1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, tit play, protected (woo!) sex, mentions of semi public sex

you flop down on the sunbed next to rafe, propping your head on your hand as you stare at him. 

you start at his chest before dropping lower to the swimsuit that's tantalizingly low on his hips. it's a chore to drag your eyes away, up to his face.

you admire his cheekbones first, slightly shining in the bright sun before you move to his lips, pink and pouty, the bottom one just waiting to be kissed.

you follow the slope of his nose up to where sunglasses cover his eyes, reflecting the gentle lapping of the water.

“you know im not asleep under these shades right?” rafe says.

“oh, ive grown long past being ashamed of admiring you.” you giggle, sitting up in your lounge chair, pressing your breasts together with your arms, knowing it'll entice rafe away from his relaxation. 

“don't you think you need to get out of the sun for a bit? you're looking hot.” 

“you drive me crazy.” rafe removes his sunglasses and tossed them to the sand, a smirk stretching across his face.

“come on.” he stands up swiftly, like he can't wait a moment longer, extending his hand down to yours, which you eagerly take.

rafe practically pulls you inside and up to his bedroom, your bodies immediately melding into one the moment the door locks shut.

“i want you so bad.” you whimper against rafes lip, not giving him time to respond as you kiss and suck at his bottom lip, running your tongue across it, desperate to taste more of him.

“yeah, baby.” rafe chuckles, pushing your hips back, forcing you away from him. “you make it real obvious.”

you just smile as you lie back on the bed. none of rafes quips affect you anymore, and the combination of the perfect weather outside and rafe climbing onto the bed on top of you makes a smile stretch to your cheeks. nothing could ruin this moment.

rafe kisses your lips, but pulls away before you can deepen it, mouth coming to your neck, gliding down your chest to the swell of your breast.

you know rafe likes to do it himself, but you have no patience, arching your back and pulling the ties of your swimsuit apart so the cups fall away from your chest.

rafe tsks, his displeasure only evident for a second as he mouth latches around your nipple.

you let out a moan, hands coming to his hair, needing the physical connection to him as he tongues and plays with your chest before switching to the other nipple, long strokes of his tongue coaxing it to peak hardness.

rafe moves back up to your lips, letting you kiss him and hold his face as he rearranges your body so his hips can slot in-between yours.

you instantly begin to grind against him, feeling the hard length concealed beneath his swimsuit bottoms.

“just insatiable.” rafe laughs, moving away from you only for a moment to grab a condom from where a whole pack is thrown on the nightstand, ready to use. 

you loosen your legs around rafes hips, allowing him to tug down his swimsuits, cock rising to stand tall and ready. he slips the condom out of the foil and wraps it down his length while you undo the ties on your bikini bottoms to get them off too.

“after this…” rafe trails off, losing his train of thought as you wrap your legs around his hips and tug him closer again, no clothing interrupting your grinding this time.

“after this what?” you giggle when rafe gives you a look, one that's slightly sheepish and won't admit that he completely forgot where he was going with the sentence.

“hm?” you goad him on as the head of his cock rubs between your thighs, teasing at your clit before running over it as well.

“boat.” rafe finally says. “we should go out on the boat.”

“you just wanna see me in a bikini for longer.” you laugh, the noise making rafes eyes shine in admiration. he never thought he'd like a sound so much until he heard your laugh.

“yes.” rafe nods, and as he sees you open your mouth for another quip back, he sinks his cock into you. “ive grown past being ashamed of admiring you.”

you let out a moan, head falling back against the pillows as he echoes your words from earlier back to you.

rafe wastes no time in building up a fast rhythm. despite the little foreplay, you're both desperate for each other. your bodies calling out constantly for the others touch.

you let rafe continue thrusting into you until you can't help it any longer, wanting to show him pleasure back, so you put all your weight and strength into flipping over so you're on top, his cock not leaving you the entire time.

“oh fuck, baby.” rafe grunts out, his hands coming to cup your tits as you begin to bounce on his cock, hips swirling and pumping as fast as your legs will allow.

“im- shit.” rafe tries to grab at your hips, to hold you tight and get you to slow down, but you overpower him, wanting to make him cum now.

“come on, baby.” you moan out. “give it to me, i want it.”

rafe gives up on trying to last, pumping his hips up into you as he lets out a moan, your name tumbling out of his lips as he cums.

you bend forward, hips gyrating slowly as he works through his orgasm. your chests press together as you watch rafes face, his mouth ajar and wet from kisses, his blue eyes glazed over in pleasure.

you can tell in his expression when he snaps back to reality.

“fuck.” he chuckles as you climb off, running his hands through his hair as he blinks rapidly, before looking for you.

“wait-” rafe grabs your wrist, trying to stop you from getting your swimsuit back on.

“hm?” you ask, shaking his loose grip off to continue tying the strings back together.

“what about you?” 

you just smile and toss rafes swim trunks at him. “you can finish me off on the boat.”

you've never seen rafe move faster.

[hanafubukki]

Thinking about Malleus who has a lawyer or a politician for His Queen.

You have experience with law. You are well read when it comes to breaking apart passages of rules and regulations. But most importantly, you know how to deal with people and you know how to debate.

Malleus is the least temperamental Draconia, but that was fine. When you got ate determined and fierce, it was as if you were part of the Draconia bloodline and not Malleus from the way you held yourself and the fire in your eyes even with the lack of horns. (Sometimes, with the way you regarded some of the Senate or council, the implied, unspoken “fools/imbeciles” was clearly expressed through your body language alone.)

You had the ability to charm people and perceive what they want which helps you as a fellow ruler with Malleus. This is what led to more of the fae accepting you. You would know when someone would try to passively insult you and you would return it back at them. Malleus and Lilia especially enjoyed watching this.

You didn’t reform the kingdom in your lifetime, no, there’s only so much you can do after all. But, you expanded the foundations that were placed through the centuries.

Through your connections, the kingdom was able thrive and usher in change. It was at dial-up speed at times but change came forth nonetheless.

Briar Valley gradually opened to others, but it took time and effort. After all, the scars of the past was deeply ingrained in its’ soil.

You would go down in history as the one who brought change to the country. Not a dragon by blood or traits, but one by determination and ferocity.

[onlyymir]

katsuki knew he fucked up.

Shouldn't have talked to you on the first day of your first anniversary opening an agency, shouldn't have looked at you. Whenever you ask him out to go to the new cafe, he quickly agrees without even thinking. You are the only one in his mind.

Spacing out looking at your gorgeous face laughing, he felt his heart beating so fast. He hated it. He hates the way you always call his name gently. He doesn't know how to control these feelings. He hates everything about you.

He couldn't believe himself when is the last time he piled up all his emotions. The fact that you confessed to him one day made his whole life stop. Your blushy face, your cute lips and those eyes. He can't stop staring at it. "I fuckin like you too dumbass. " He was hooked.

Now here he is, walking you down the aisle. Long white carpet for the wedding. "Katsuki Bakugou do you take y/n as your wife?" the father said.

"I do." katsuki remembered back when he was still a toddler saying that he won't ever cry at his wedding mocking his dad. well that went wrong. That was the very first moment you've seen katsuki cry.

katsuki realised that he actually hadn't fucked up anything.

[ilium-ilia]

He always says that—someday—he’ll get you without the cameras. 

It’s a vow he whispers to you between gritted teeth one day on set when he’s got your legs tossed over his shoulders. Your feet play peek-a-boo behind Kyle’s head, wiggling with each thrust he makes deep into your cunt, relentlessly forcing himself inside as the crew records the debauched imagery, burning it into film for it to be viewed by thousands of strangers online. 

But Kyle likes it better this way—up close. Having you all to himself; almost. Every millimeter that your lip parts, the very creasing of your brows as he pushes deeper and deeper, the unobstructed symphony of your moans falling across his ears, soaking into his psyche, burning, burrowing, growing. Shockwaves ripple throughout your body, forcing your hands to grip his shoulders, holding on lest you deliquesce into the bed. 

That’s exactly what he wants—for you to melt beneath his touch. For you to let go of the synthetic lights in your face and the pounds of makeup smudged on your cheeks—for you to stop the nervous glances in the corner of your eyes as you follow prying footsteps and a bored crew as they twiddle their thumbs and scroll on their phones. 

“Gaz…” Your voice breaks in a gasp, a pathetic moan separated by the sharp thrusts of his hips against yours, breath stolen away before it could properly expel. 

But this isn’t his real name. Just the facade he wears for the videos. For the fans. For everyone. 

Everyone but you. 

“That’s it, doll,” he croons, hips rolling, tenebrous eyes boring through you like a stake. 

He witnesses you—eyes unblinking—but you’re not looking at him. No, you’re staring just over his shoulder. In the distance. Eyes caught up in the lens as you make faces—forced faces, something for show, something that’s fake, faux, disgusting. It’s not real. All a performance. So caught up in your own head and thoughts that he no longer feels the fluttering of your cunt as strongly as it was just a moment before. Distracted. Severed. 

“Hey-” 

His voice is strong, but not sharp. Firm fingers dig into either side of your jaw as Kyle forces your head to turn, for your eyes to focus on what’s important—him. Your pleasure. Not the hulking camera behind his toned shoulders, but the way his cock bullies deep into you, each kiss of skin against skin the backtrack to the melody of your gasps. 

“Did you hear me, doll?” he whispers. You see the way his grin pulls at his lips, ever soft like velvet against your neck. “I’m gonna get you without these cameras someday. I promise you.” 

Then—it snaps. Fractures. Uncoils so deliciously, licking down the back of your legs and through your core until your stomach and cunt are both left fluttering. This time when your eyes leave him, it’s not to focus on some malevolent camera, but to roll into the back of your head with shaky legs and nails digging into his deltoids. Head falling into the side of your neck, he smothers his grin and mirth into your skin. He lets it bleed. Lets it fester. 

“There we go, just like that, doll. Just like that,” he murmurs. 

As the roll of his hips slow, allowing you to ride your orgasm out without burning your synapses too much for the next round, he repeats his mantra. This promise to himself. This oath to you. This will fade. There will be no microphones, or equipment—just you, him, and the melding of your skin. 

One day, anyway.

[storiesoflilies]

t.w: mentions of violence. if a gifted artist would like to bless us all with fanart inspired by this drabble, just know you will have saved my life.

thinking about knight!toji fushiguro who has gone completely rogue. he does not care for oaths or honor or justice, not anymore. he takes whatever he wants from whoever has it, with determined grit and merciless steel. who wears armor blacker than the night and rides atop a midnight stallion, its hooves striking the ground like thunder so you knew who was coming for you.

he was a god, a herald of death.

so they say.

but here you are, in his clutches atop his steed, and oh, how you believe everything you’ve ever heard about him.

“so pliant for me,” he hummed, his hand around your throat, bringing the back of your head to rest against his chest. “what a sweet little thing you are.”

you knew better than to try and fight him.

his lips ghosted over your neck, the tip of a fang lightly grazing your skin, and you felt his chest rumble. you shivered, even though his cloak was warm against your shoulders. it sounded like he was pleased, and his strong grip around you tightened. you couldn’t help but glance down at the ground, at the trampled bodies of the men who had tried to corner you, and toji tutted softly. his calloused fingers tilted your chin up, guiding your gaze away from the sight, arching your back against him. his green eyes peered into your very soul, and you had never felt more alive.

“sorry for all that,” he breathed out, chuckling, and you knew he wasn’t sorry at all. “i tend to get carried away.”

you don’t know why you said it, but you did. “it’s okay.”

toji barked out a laugh, burying his face into your neck, messy strands of his hair tickling you. his thighs pressed into yours, like he was trying to meld himself into you. his horse snorted loudly beneath you, impatient, its powerful muscles rippling.

“yes,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “i think i’ll just have to take you with me, keep you safe.”

and with that, toji sharply spurred his stallion onward, and the both of you disappeared into the shadows of the night.

©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[stellamarielu]

can’t stop thinking about charlie reid saying “give in, it’ll feel good” so i had to do something about it….

smut ahead mdni!!

“You gonna come already? That’s pathetic.” Charlie’s voice spits out from his position standing between your legs.

He has you sitting on the edge of his desk with two fingers pushed into you, working you open through slow steady strokes.

You were alone in his office. Staying later than usual, with the intent of having Charlie sign some documents, but you both knew where you’d end up.

Ass on his desk, skirt bunched at your waist, with the rasp of his sinful words melting against your ear.

“Oh c’mon sugar, I know you wanna let go.”

His words coax you closer toward release, but you shake your head, refusing to give him the satisfaction of making you finish when he’d only just pushed his fingers into you.

“Can feel the way you’re squeezin’, so desperate.” He keeps murmuring above you, ignoring your stubborn attempt to disobey his orders.

“Just give in.” He leans down, his breath fanning across your face, and his fingers sliding in and out of you with a gentle bend.

“It’ll feel good.”

He braces a hand on the back of your neck, holding you firm, and looking down to watch his hands disappearing between your legs.

“I’ll give you another, don’t worry.”

He says it like he’s being generous; like he’s not going to make you come so many times your trembling and pleading with him to stop, overstimulating you like it’s some sort of punishment. Twisting your pleasure into exhaustion, making you walk a fine line between complete bliss and utter ruin.

That’s why you hold back. Choosing not to give in to the first wave of release that threatens to wash over you, because you know what’s ahead of you.

You know Charlie will use every last inch of you for his own pleasure, making you cry out and beg for him in a voice you don’t even recognize.

But with the way his fingers stop plunging into you, coming to a halt deep inside, pushed in to the knuckle and curling repeatedly, you have no choice but to give in.

You clutch at his forearms, his back— anything to help stabilize you while your body tenses, trying to hold back the needy whimpers forming on your lips.

“Atta girl.”

His voice is far from gentle as he keeps his digits buried in you. Fingertips continuing to rub that same spot deep inside, with no sign of stopping.

[eyesforfuma]

thinking about self absorbed K who enjoys watching himself in the mirror while he fucks a bit more than fucking you sometimes

while he does enjoy fucking you (why wouldn't he? you are his little precious pleasure toy) he just loves to fuck you on all fours right in front of the mirror, making sure he has a clear view of both your pretty face and his, he loves when you moan his name and praise him on how good he is at filling you up

"why don’t you tell me how much you enjoy how I fuck you, huh? say it, use your words, tell K how much you love it when i pound into you and fill you up" he says as he pushes his hair back with his hand, never taking his eyes off the mirror

he would groan when you call him handsome or pretty and he uses that as a motivation to pound you even faster and rougher, becoming sloppy and messy which is not usual for him but something about the words "you look so handsome while you make me yours" coming out of your sweet mouth makes him dizzy

he knows how good he looks, he loves watching his muscles flex and even takes pictures sometimes of how good you both look, all sweaty from hours of pleasure

"come here" he would say as he gently pulls you by your hair, pulling you close to him, pressing his chest against your back while he is still inside of you, one arm holds you tightly while his other hand cups your cheeks forcing you to look straight into the mirror "don't you think you look pretty being used like this? flushy cheeks, can't even hold yourself together, mumbling nonsense, coming all over my cock over and over again, being so good for K" while he whispers that into your ear you know he is not even looking at you, both your eyes and his are always focused on his face, on his pretty lips saying all those nasty things and his veiny arms that hold you in place

[wonuwonder]

“baby where did you put my headphones?” wonwoo asks, his head popping through the kitchen door.

“did you just call me baby?” you say cutely, and wonwoo blushes instantly, you’ve been officially dating for two weeks, so terms of endearment were still something new, but always lovely to hear.

“i might’ve” he says shyly, squinting his nose and eyes. you go over to where he’s standing and hug him by the tummy, looking up at him propping your chin on his chest, he hugs you back by the shoulders, you tiptoe and give him a quick kiss.

“i like it” you say, and he smiles, “i like it too” he says back and hugs you tightly.

[thatrandomlittlegirl]

When you type Gaster's name into the game, the game shuts down and resets.

What would happen when you type his name elsewhere...?

[number-one-shadisper-shipper]

I've seen a lot of takes on what would happen if Sonic and Tails returned to West Side Island and confronted the people who were so abusive to Tails, and I had an idea for a somewhat new spin on it.

What if, now that Tails is a world famous hero, the Islanders try to try to basically gaslight him into thinking none of the abuse ever happened? They find out he's coming and they throw a big "Welcome Home" party and give him a medal and stuff, and when confronted about their treatment of him just completely deny or twist it. Like "oh yes I'm so sorry there were a couple kids who were bullies but that happens to everyone you weren't being targeted, and we tried to get them to stop it" or "we didn't know you were alone and homeless, if we knew we would have taken you in" and all sorts of garbage like that

And Tails, who's maybe a tween-young teen now, and no longer has distinct memories from that early in his life, starts to question if maybe he really was blowing things out of proportion. Maybe he really was just bullied by one or two kids, and they weren't really that bad. Maybe people didn't really chase him away and refuse to even let him go through their garbage for food. He knows he has anxiety. Maybe he was just imagining how much everyone hated him. And he almost wants to believe it, to believe that he was never truly hated.

But Sonic remembers. Sonic remembers the gang of older kids beating and violently attacking toddler aged Tails, and only stopping when he physically intervened with his own fists. He remembers questioning the townsfolk about the two-tailed fox he'd seen and being meet with sneers and complete disdain. He remembers how skinny Tails was, how his ribs were visible even through his fur and how he wolfed down the food Sonic offered him so quickly that he nearly threw it up later. He remembers how Tails flinched from any quick movement or attempt at touch. He remembers the long process of gaining the fox's trust, a process that tested his nine-year-old patience as he spent literal weeks urging Tails to come closer, keeping his hands slow and his face friendly, finally getting the fox to join him at the campfire, to walk beside him without dashing away when moved his arm too fast, and then, eventually, to let him touch him. He remembers the first few times Tails let him try to brush out his matted, dirty fur, each knot a testament to neglect, and finding scars and wounds on the skin beneath that spoke of so much abuse. He remembers realizing for the first time that normal, everyday Mobians could be just as cruel as Eggman.

Tails doesn't trust his own memory. But Sonic remembers. And Sonic is not quick to forgive.

[cynda-queer]

The unfortunate truth is I am a slave to positive reinforcement, so when I post things, I'm sitting there like a cat scratching at a closed door like "likes?" "reblogs?" "commint?"

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes

Yandere!Aventurine who pampers and dotes on you like no other. All of your outfits ooze luxury, matching his color palette and aesthetic to a T. Whenever he takes you on extravagant shopping trips, he always returns home with at least five bags hanging off his arms, insisting on carrying them for you. If he makes reservations for dinner, best believe there will be the most showstopping, mouthwatering foods you have ever seen, smelled, or tasted. He'll take care of it all.

Yandere!Aventurine who likes taking you to casinos, even if you don't particularly care for gambling. He'll have you sit next to him as he plays poker, flashing you a mischievous smile as he goes all in. Of course, he wins.

Yandere!Aventurine who tells you his past in hushed conversations at night, memories merely whispered between trembling lips. His hands reach for yours, grasping them like if he lets go, he'll fall into a dark, unescapable abyss.

Yandere!Aventurine who needs you like a fish needs water or a bird needs to fly. He says nonchalantly with a casual smirk that you're his "good luck charm", but you are so much more than that to him. You soothe the scars in his heart and blanket his sleep in sweet dreams. All this superficial glamor and wealth he flaunts don't even hold a candle to your value.

Yandere!Aventurine who can't stand the idea of you leaving. He'll clutch you tightly at night and keep an eye on you in the day, making sure you're safe and protected. He'll buy you anything, give you whatever you ask for. The one thing he isn't willing to give you is your freedom. After all, he'll take care of it all.

[bubbless-s]

➳ ♡︎ How deep is your love? ׂׂૢ

Context: ‘The type of boyfriend..’ with Jiyan.

Masterlist

- ʚɞ genre: fluff

- ʚɞ warnings: none

• The type of boyfriend to always get you flowers and go on a date with you when he isn’t busy.

• The type of boyfriend to notice the smallest details about you.

• The type of boyfriend who will pick you up to kiss you.

• The type of boyfriend who will let you play or mess up his hair and even let you style his hair into ridiculous hairstyles.

• The type of boyfriend who gets calmer and calmer when you touch him.

• The type of boyfriend to get easily flustered if you give him cheesy nicknames.

• The type of boyfriend who will admire you from afar.

• The type of boyfriend to let you sit on his back while he does push-ups.

• The type of boyfriend who spoils you everyday and every night,because he feels bad that he gets super busy.

• The type of boyfriend who would let you kiss his tacet mark.

• The type of boyfriend to give you surprises kisses.

• The type of boyfriend to listen to everything you say, even tho your info dumping about your interests and he doesn’t understand anything.

• The type of boyfriend to never get mad at you.

• The type of boyfriend who will love you forever.

[teddybeartoji]

dazai and gojo are so similar in my head. silly little touch starved geniuses<33333333

they both get so lovesick – staring at you with hearts in their eyes as you talk about your day. they rest their heads on their palms, twirling a strand of your hair between their slender fingers while humming. there's a sickeningly sweet smile plastered onto their faces, the corners of their eyes crinkling at the sight of you dramatically reenact even the smallest details.

they hope you never stop talking – they want to listen to you forever; they want to look at you forever. you give them so much comfort, you make them feel safe and sounds just with your voice. and your smile. and your eyes.

after you're done, they'll smother you with honeyed kisses – mouth, nose, cheeks, eyes, forehead, jaw, temple; they won't stop until you're melting into their arms with laughter spilling from your lips like a waterfall.

(is is bad that they want to drown? is it bad they want you to swallow them whole? is it bad they want to sink; to hide from the world and just be yours forever?)