#sai is a sleepy bean

[anannua]

shhhhh

[estrella-etoile]

Lang Qianqiu's Closure

I read and loved the books. But there's something special and extra that the donghua is bringing to everything that just... paints even more vibrancy to an already-beautiful picture.

One of the things I had not expected is how much I was going to like Lang Qianqiu.

Is he a bit of a himbo? Yes. Is he a little too simple? Oh god yes.

But... his immediate demand for revenge makes sense. Yes, the bloody banquet was hundreds of years ago, and his dead family has reincarnated many times since then, and he buried FangXin never to let him out again sooo... why is he so insistent?

Because what FangXin did never made sense to him. It was a betrayal of trust so profound that he would dwell on it for as long as he drew breath, because the person who taught him for those years was strict but gentle, and kind, so kind.

So when he walked in and saw what FangXin "had done", it was such a complete change from everything he knew and trusted that it would stick with him forever. That question.

Why? How could you? What did I miss all that time? I so thoroughly understood and trusted you, didn't I? Where was I so mistaken?

And we get the answer. Because Hua Cheng also found that incident so entirely weird. And Hua Cheng understands the importance of that truth. (Also that HC pieces it entirely together from XL's "I can't stand seeing you on the throne" because that man has a Nobel Prize in understanding his god.)

I have no doubt that FangXin had all the gentle kindness of Xie Lian. And as he left the bloody banquet, it was so completely out of character...

Until we find out what really happened. Until the why becomes apparent.

And Lang Qianqiu sees it too. If the King had said what was next going to come out of his mouth, that would have changed the entire course of Xianle-Yong An history.

It was the first time Lang Qianqiu understood what happened on the worst day of his life. The whole of it. FangXin was no longer a mystery to him. In fact, FangXin suffered from the bloody banquet too. A lot.

I like to think that Xie Lian and Lang Qianqiu find their way back to one another. It's probably slow, and it's probably reluctant. And there is certainly guilt on both sides.

But both of these gods have good hearts. There was a reason that Lang Qianqiu loved his guoshi. And there was a reason that Xie Lian stayed as guoshi so long instead of disappearing into the night.

Maybe it's finally time for Lang Qianqiu to learn the move that saved his life.

[shinylights]

.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

sometimes i long to eat you up ; ryōmen sukuna

synopsis; sukuna doesn’t tell you that he loves you. he cooks for you, instead.

word count; 6.0k

contents; ryōmen sukuna/reader, gn!reader, househusband!sukuna, no curses au, fluff fluff fluff!!, sukuna is Whipped bc i say so, (he bullies you a bit but he does so lovingly), lots of cooking and descriptions of food, implied reincarnation au if you reeaalllyyyyy squint (but feel free to ignore it if that’s not your thing!!), reader is a silly goose, sukuna vs human emotion (he loses), he’s ooc but he’s Free

a/n; >:3 is anyone shocked….. that’s right. ari is in fact capable of writing for characters who aren’t stsg….. this one has been in my wips for Many Months now but i finally finished it!! i just think being in a nice warm kitchen could fix him. (super cute dividers by @/enchanthings !!)

sukuna doesn’t tell you that he loves you.

throughout the years you've been together, it's something you've grown used to. words like love must feel foreign in his mouth; even more so when they slip into the air, voiced, manifested. 

discomforting, if the crease between his brows is anything to go by.

he only says it under certain conditions, little moments here and there, all of them memorable; a particularly sentimental midnight drive, that time you broke down sobbing into his chest after a rough day, the night he proposed. and so on.

little moments, precious moments, few and far between. that’s just how sukuna is; unaccustomed to being loved, even more unaccustomed to being in love. swallowing the words down, afraid of what could happen if he spoke them aloud, through more than a mere whisper. as if they could burn you.

you don’t mind, because you know him. and you know that he loves you, even if he doesn’t say it nearly as often as you do. 

sukuna shows his love for you in other ways. driving you wherever you need to be, holding you to his chest when you’re sleepy, watching reality shows with you even though he hates them. always watching over you, making sure you’re safe and happy, almost hunting for anything that could disturb your peace. you can feel that love, almost reach out and touch it; a hand on the small of your back guiding you through large crowds, a bouquet of camellias waiting for you on the kitchen table.

but, above all else — sukuna translates his boundless love into food. 

the sun rises outside the walls of your apartment, slow and steady, soft and hazy sunlight flitting through the windows of your kitchen. dyeing the open space in a golden glow, like something out of a summery daydream. 

as you rub the tender skin beneath your bleary eyes, your feet move you forward. slowly, groggily. stumbling towards your target.

sukuna doesn’t flinch when you wrap your arms around his waist, forehead bumping into his broad back, practically tackling him into a hug. he’s become attuned to the sound of your clumsy footsteps. he makes a tiny noise, acknowledging your presence, and that’s all. 

the low purr of the espresso machine buzzes in the air, and sukuna watches over the process, dutiful as ever. the same drawn out, thoughtful process he goes through every morning; picking out the coffee beans himself, grinding them into coffee grounds, and making a cup for you with his beloved, expensive coffee machine. making sure every setting is exactly as it should be.

it gives him peace of mind. and it needs to be perfect, in every possible way — so sukuna tries his best not to let you distract him.

(he never quite succeeds.) 

a blissful little sigh slips from your lips, as you squeeze his waist. hands wandering, feeling him up, buzzing with the warmth the contact gives you. he’s always so cozy, like this. all you want is to smush your face into his plush chest.

but sukuna clicks his tongue, and places a palm on your forearm. keeping it still. his voice comes out raspy, excruciatingly deep. a gruff kind of tilt to it that makes you shiver.

”assaulting me first thing in the morning, are we?”

you’re a little too sleepy to respond, too out of it. still reeling with the hazy remnants of your deep sleep, stretching your limbs out groggily and making a little mrm sound that makes his lips twitch upwards. unwillingly, might he add.

the two of you do this every morning. it’s a ritual, of sorts, one that you need to function properly. he always makes you a morning cup of coffee, and you always cling to him through the process. he always huffs and puffs and clicks his tongue — but never once pushes you off.

all sukuna does is caress your arm, absentmindedly, where it rests around his midsection. still watching over the slow brew of the coffee. attentive.

you try not to disturb him too much, you do. because you know he loves this, deep down; the morning sunlight kissing up his nape, the sense of peace sinking into his bones. the feeling of your chest against his back, your fingers fiddling with the strings of his apron.

but eventually, you always give in to the temptation of speaking. of coaxing a response from that deep, raspy morning voice. so you part your lips.

”did you have nice dreams?” is murmured into his back, your cheek smooshed against the soft, dark fabric of his tight turtleneck.

sukuna hums. listening, always, even when he pretends to tune you out. then comes his response.

”i never dream.”

a moment passes.

you bite down on your lip — struggling to withhold a giggle. it doesn’t really work, but you tactfully pretend not to hear his displeased grumble. ”right,” you smile. ”my bad.”

a soft silence washes over you, once more. just for a couple of blissful moments, as you drowsily blink, and sukuna puts two ceramic cups on the counter. until you break it again.

”i think i dreamt of you.”

sukuna stills, for a moment. only barely, a brief twitch of his fingers; waiting. for tiny crumbs of love, ones you give out like candy, almost absentminded. like you don’t even have to try. 

ones he never fails to pick up, tuck into his pockets, chew between his teeth.

(sometimes, he envies how freely affection seems to spill from your lips.)

it’s touching, in a way. the idea that he never quite leaves your mind. that he’s there, always, even in your dreams. it’s… sweet. he supposes.

a little yawn leaves your lips, as you stretch your limbs out like a sleepy cat. ”you were a cashier at the mcdonalds i went to.”

…

a click of his tongue — his hand slipping from its position on your forearm. ”get out of my kitchen.”

and just like that, a burst of giggles bubble up inside your throat. muffled into the cotton of his sweater, a sound that makes his heart feel a little too big for his body.

”noooo…” you whine, nails digging into the fabric so he can’t shake you off. clinging to him tighter when he tries, no real intent behind it. ”’m sorry. don’t get mad!”

”i would never work there,” he scoffs. ”frankly, the thought is insulting.”

you quirk a brow. ”what kind of beef do you have with mcdonalds?” 

”don't ask me stupid questions,” he huffs, clicking his tongue, a bitter lilt to his voice. ”they don’t make food. it’s practically contaminated ��� poisonous. i don’t want you eating that plastic.”

(why would you want to, when you have him to make you anything you want?)

you bite down on your lip, trying to hide a smile. he sounds cute when he gets riled up. ”aw. i like it, though...”

a moment passes.

”alright, then.” his voice is controlled, hiding every single tinge of his carefully concealed frustration. he must have been an actor in a past life, to sound so effortlessly unperturbed. ”go buy yourself one of those cheap, awful, bland cappuccinos you love so much. i’ll pay.”

your lips twitch upward. he’s just being snarky, you know he is; but you still bundle up his sweater with your fists, and shake your head. ”i’m just kidding,” you purr, biting back another yawn. ”only want yours.”

sukuna stills. silent, once more. trying not to acknowledge how your words tug at his heartstrings, chew at the bones of his ribcage. something akin to pride sprouts in his chest, and it’s enough to get him to smooth his thumb over your knuckle again. content.

finally, the kitchen falls silent. only the low purring of the coffee machine to fill your ears, until that dwindles out too. a kind of peace settles in the air. something holy, sukuna thinks. 

something that makes him feel human.

he moves his hands delicately, tenderly. attentive, as he pours hot espresso into your cup, slowly and gracefully, a delicate rhythm to his steady hands. just thinking of how warm you feel, like this, how you touch him like he’s harmless, like he could do no wrong in your eyes. how your voice sounds so pretty in the wake of a new morning, when it’s just a little raspy, unguarded in a way that makes him feel like he’s cradling a wounded bird in his arms. something fragile and majestic. 

he pretends not to like the sound of it, the way it distracts him from his extensive brewing process; but sukuna thinks he’d do just about anything to hear it once more. absolutely anything.

”what are you thinking about, sukuna?”

”nothing,” he’s quick to hum. maybe a little too quick, but before you can question it, he scoffs. ”are you gonna cling to me all day, you little brat?”

”… can i?” 

sukuna clicks his tongue.

(he’s awfully lucky you don’t look up to see the cherry red tint of his pierced ears.)

three little words begin to crawl up his throat. he can feel them, ticklish, heavy, and gulps them down before they get too far. busying himself with the clinking of coffee cups and stirring of silver spoons. 

then he’s turning around, to face you properly. blowing a little on the cup, a fragrance of espresso spreading throughout the kitchen, blending with the flowers by the windowsill. he hands you a cup of coffee, made just the way you like it, glancing at your forehead; wondering if he should pair it with a kiss.

maybe later.

”careful. it’s hot,” he hums. then he’s turning around to prepare his own cup, while you murmur your thanks, squeezing at his waist affectionately. taking a sip of the bitter brew.

a warm cup of coffee, thoughtfully crafted, only to be passed into your awaiting hands. the same transaction you repeat every single morning. the same act, conveying the same sentiment; those three little unspoken words. 

you take another sip, and a smile blooms on your lips. 

your stomach is growling.

it’s been ten minutes since it started. ten minutes since you noticed the pit of hunger in your gut, growing more and more for every passing second; and you’re trying to ignore it, valiantly, sitting in your cubicle and mentally cursing yourself for being so scatterbrained.

how on earth could you forget your own lunch?

a pang of ache bubbles up in your stomach, and you curl into yourself. sitting on a not-so-comfy chair, doing your best to survive, staring at the clock on the wall and watching the minutes tick down. 

only twenty minutes left of your lunch break.

in hindsight, it was inevitable. inevitable that you’d burn yourself out, a bit, that it’d make you lose sleep, that your fatigued brain would eventually forget something so important. so fundamental to your peace of mind.

you need your lunch to focus properly — there’s no way in hell that you’ll make it through the work day otherwise. you could accept your fate and go buy a sandwich and a can of coffee, but…

(dammit.)

sukuna always makes your lunches himself. tailored to suit your tastes, to give you the nutrients and energy you need not to lose your mind or set the building on fire, with all the hours you spend staring into your computer screen and writing until your brain turns to mush. they’re always delicious, always lovingly made, and you think you might break down and cry if you have to settle for a cheap sandwich instead.

a sigh slips from your lips. your coworker shoots you a sympathetic glance, hearing yet another of your stomach’s agonized growls. she taps at your desk to get your attention, and you look up to meet her kind eyes.

”my offer still stands, you know?”

you give her a smile. ”no, it’s fine,” you murmur, rubbing the back of your neck. ”eating someone else’s handmade food just wouldn’t feel right…”

”he spoils you, huh?”

a huff. you pout a little, and she chuckles, going back to eating from her bento. it’s hard not to feel jealous. it’s even harder not to think of the bento still waiting for you in your fridge.

finally, you resign yourself to your tragic fate. putting both palms on your desk, ready to lift yourself up; doomed to survive on a cheaply made sandwich and a too-sweet can of coffee. it’s not ideal, not at all — but it is what it is.

if only you hadn’t forgotten it…

”you’re a klutz.”

something is placed directly in front of you. two boxes, stacked on top of each other, wrapped up in a pink cloth. tied neatly, smelling just slightly of food. tantalizing.

you raise your head.

sukuna has one eyebrow raised, a mild expression of disbelief painted on his face. unimpressed, as he gazes down at you, hair tousled and slicked back. wearing a leather jacket, black like the tattoos etched into his skin, on his face, a larger one running in streams of ink from his shoulder down to his forearm. you can see a tiny bit of it, crawling towards his collarbone. equally tantalizing.

a click of his tongue breaks you out of your silent stupor — unable to do anything but look at him. like he just fell out of the sky. 

”sukuna,” you sputter, finally, glancing down at the bento and then back up at him. ”you —”

”you’re lucky i noticed,” he cuts you off. ”almost didn't make it in time.” one glance at the clock on the wall, and he’s placing a can of peach tea on your desk; it’s still covered in condensation, his fingers leaving prints on the exterior. ”i should go. doubt your bosses will be very thrilled to have a motorcycle parked outside.”

”ah.” you fall silent. looking down at your lap with a weak smile, a little too ashamed for his liking. ”… sorry, ’kuna. i know you’re busy.”

he gazes down at you where you sit, slumped in your chair, bags beneath your weary eyes. an apologetic smile on your lips, just a little dejected. like you’re being scolded.

(his eyes soften.)

sukuna shakes his head. only slightly, by a hair, but enough to put you at ease — to let you know he isn’t upset, that grumpy is simply his default state. his voice shifts into a lower, softer tone. ”just don’t forget it next time.” 

then he flicks your forehead. gently, not enough force behind it to even sting. ”klutz,” he says, again, and you know it’s a term of endearment.

a smile sprouts on your lips. you sit up straight, eyes crinkling as you look at him, before falling down on the bento in front of you — practically drooling as you think about the meal you’re about to have.

”thank you,” you coo, a sweet grin on your lips. voice tingling with barely contained fondness, expression and posture brightening as you tap your feet beneath your desk. meeting his gaze. ”i love you.”

something smooths over sukuna’s face; something you can’t quite put your finger on. his lips are pursed, and his amber eyes simmer with something awfully fond. swirling like the spots of sunlight on the wall just behind him.

it’s brief, easy to miss — a single tug of his lips. the tiniest little smile.

his hand reaches out, fingertips ghosting over your skin as he brushes through your bangs; adjusting them. and you know it’s just an excuse to touch you, that he’d let himself be greedy and ruffle your hair if you weren’t in public. he doesn’t like having an audience, small as it may be.

(but he can’t really control himself, when it comes to you.)

”make sure to eat all of it,” he hums, glancing out the window, towards the motorcycle parked outside. ”i’ll come pick you up later.”

you smile, and sukuna leaves. elegant, even in the way he moves. collected and confident, languid, long legs and a broad back. the warmth of his palm on your head remains, as you wave after him with a cheery see you soon!

and it’s finally time. with an eager kind of giddiness, you begin to unwrap your bento — ignoring your still growling stomach, the jealous mutters of your coworker, the ticking of the clock on the wall. from outside the window comes a ray of sunshine, a streak of gold falling across the floorboards. it illuminates the contents of your lunch, and you swallow down a gulp.

the presentation is lovely, as always. the top layer carries a mouth-watering cutlet, a wide array of little vegetables, fresh and clean, while the bottom one has a couple perfectly formed onigiri. they’re awfully cute, shaped into little pandas, decorated with dried seaweed and sesame seeds. you pick one up, holding it in the light of the glittering sun seeping in through the window behind you — it’s so cute you almost don’t want to eat it at all.

”did he really make that..?” your coworker mumbles, still chewing on her own food. you’re too hungry to respond.

you fish out a tiny note, tucked between the boxes. that’s where he usually puts them. you don’t remember when it started, but you know he enjoys it; writing down little reminders or words of encouragement. his handwriting is beautiful, clear and concise. your eyes trail over every little word, every letter, the little scribble in the middle. it makes you smile.

you’ve been working hard lately. don’t overdo it. the company won’t fall apart if you slack off every once in a while. i lo we can watch that show you like when you get home.

a warmth spreads through your body, from the pit of your stomach down to the tips of your fingers; your heart constricting to make room for the love that blooms between your ribs. you barely even notice the wide smile on your lips, leaning forward to leave a little kiss on the paper. it’ll have to do, since he isn’t here to receive it himself.

and as you dig in, savouring every piece of food he made, you’re almost certain you can feel it. that burst of emotion he always tries to contain, the three little words that always sputter out on the tip of his tongue.

the cutlet is perfectly crispy, juicy on the inside, practically melting on your tongue. seasoned thoroughly, cooked to completion, so tasty it makes your mouth water. the onigiri are stuffed with a wide array of fillings, fluffy rice blending nicely together with the contents, little grains sticking to the corners of your mouth. and the veggies are cut into cute little star shapes, light and refreshing, balancing the meal and making you wolf everything down with a bright smile. 

there’s love, in this, in every meal he makes for you. there’s love in the way he’s picked out your favorite ingredients and seasonings, love in the way he’s put so much effort into the presentation alone. love, love, love. you can practically taste it on your tongue.

the peach tea tastes sweet and fruity, and you gulp it down eagerly, bento left empty. there are only five minutes left until you have to start working again — but you feel nowhere near as spent as before. you think of his hands, his eyes. his love.

god, you can’t wait to get home.

a soft, orange glow simmer in the kitchen, an atmosphere too sweet not to savour.

your dining room table is covered in a white cloth, burdened by the weight of one burning candle and an expensive vase; stuffed with camellias in all hues, jasmine buds and pretty bluebells, floral scent mingling with the cinnamon-like one of the scented candle. every inhale fills your senses with pure bliss. 

not to mention the food. 

you’re drooling. you’re sure of it. eyes darting from plate to plate, dish to dish, overwhelmed by the delicacies; trays of sushi, perfect cuts of salmon and tuna cushioned by soft rice, maki rolls stuffed with all your favorite toppings, plenty of soy sauce in tiny cups. fried shrimp, a golden colour, fluffy and crispy, and miso soup topped with garlic and cubes of tofu, steam rising from the ceramic bowls. and then, of course, his infamous dumplings, grilled on both sides — a perfect golden brown. 

all your favorites.

sukuna takes hold of a teapot, made of glass, stuffed with a blooming chrysanthemum. petals stretching out like rays of sunlight in the golden water. he pours it into two ceramic cups, and then promptly drags a chair out for you; a silent beckoning.

but all you can do is stare. 

”sukuna…”

he quirks a brow, meeting your astonished stare, eyes round and confused like a puppy’s; painfully cute. he could eat you up. ”what?”

you open your mouth, then close it again. silent, furrowing your brows as if in deep contemplation. ”our anniversary is in august, right?” something panicked smooths over your face. ”i didn’t forget?”

a sigh spills from his lips. ”don’t be dumb,” he clicks his tongue, glancing away for no more than a moment. ”we haven’t had much time to eat together, lately. that’s all.” 

(he missed you. he wanted to spoil you, a bit.

he could say it out loud; but he chooses not to.)

either way, he knows you get the message. because suddenly your eyes glimmer, and a full smile blooms on your pretty lips. you waste no time in plopping down on the seat in front of you, right across from sukuna. ”hehe. thank you, baby.”

he huffs. tiny, more of a shy little breath. ”alright, already. eat. before it gets cold.”

”okay, okay!” 

he watches as you grab your chopsticks, hungrily eyeing all the dishes on display. listening to his own heartbeat; thrumming, softly, just behind his ribs. pulsating like a fish gasping for air.

”gosh. when did you even do all this?” you ask, soaking in the intimate atmosphere, as he runs an absent hand through his hair. still smelling lightly of coconut oil from the shower he took.

”when you were away.” he reaches for the cup in front of him, tracing the tips of his fingers against the ceramic. ”jin helped. not with the cooking, obviously, but…” he raises it to his lips before taking a sip. ”the ambience. i suppose.”

a hum. you raise your hand, reaching for the bouquet of flowers. ”did he bring these, too?”

a curt nod is all you get.

it’s enough to have your lips raising up into a smile; fingertips brushing against the petals, pink and yellow, cupping the flowers like they’re made of glass. ”no wonder. do you know what bluebells symbolize?”

sukuna stills. he meets your gaze, eyes trailing towards your knuckles, your fingers, how they blend together with the petals. how he could almost mistake them for stalks. he leans back in his chair, and mutters under his breath;

”why else would i ask him to buy them?”

you blink. not in surprise, but realization — the sweet kind, like a splash of citrus blooming on your tongue. 

(he’s always been a bit of a sap, hasn’t he.)

”… that’s true,” your lips split into a sheepish smile, hoping he won’t feel the heat of your cheeks from this distance. ”they’re pretty. thank you.”

another little furrow of his brows. ”enough of that,” comes a sigh. ”if you really want to thank me, make sure the food doesn’t go to waste.”

you stifle a giggle, reaching for the bowl of miso soup. following his advice.

sukuna watches you dig in with a certain look in his eyes, something alert and attentive, soft in the corners. resting his chin on the heel of his palm, waiting patiently for the little blissful sighs to start spilling from your lips. wallowing in the finely crafted atmosphere, pleasant scents and soft lighting, the air brimming with something tender and raw.

he spent all day preparing this. planning out every single meal, waiting for jin to arrive with the scented candles and flowers, leaving his homemade ice cream in the freezer for later. cleaning the kitchen until not a single speck of dust remained. cathartic, to immerse himself into cooking for you, cutting tofu and vegetables into little cubes and slices, fiddling with the temperature settings and watching blue flames lick at the stove like hungry snakes. gutting the fish he bought fresh from the market, dipping large shrimps into boiling oil.

there’s something powerful about it, something he can’t quite put his finger on. something that makes him feel at ease. and it’s tender — the act of creation, of feeding someone you care for. he didn’t appreciate that part of the process until you came into his life. he didn’t truly love cooking, either.

(he doubts he’ll ever tell you, but he won’t ever stop being grateful for that.)

you continue to eat, sipping from the soup, dipping sushi into soy sauce, munching at the tempura, humming happily to yourself. you look so pleased, so content, like the cat that got the cream. 

sukuna watches. his eyes stay glued to your fingers, the way you hold your chopsticks, the grain of rice that sticks to the corner of your lip after a particularly big bite. his ears stay keen, intent on picking up on every little joyous hum behind your teeth. even while eating, he’s feeding off your reactions; every expression you bless him with. he fell in love with the way you eat many years ago.

”so good,” you moan, closing your eyes in pure bliss, and he has to take a sip of his tea to cover the smug smile on his face.

”make sure to finish what’s on your plate,” is all he says, but the honeyed note in his voice gives his satisfaction away. pleased by your approval. ”i made dessert, too.”

at that, your eyes light up even further, swirling with something excited and sweet, and he fails to hold back an amused little huff.

the evening continues. you eat your fill, warm soup and fried food and sugary ice cream, and promptly fall asleep on the couch in the middle of a romcom he only watches for your commentary. snoozing on his shoulder, all tuckered out. always so sleepy after eating. 

he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, the tips of his fingers gliding across your soft skin. he spares a moment to admire you, under the soft glow of the living room lights — unable to shake away that greedy vein beneath his skin. if it was possible, he’d admire you forever; but there’s no way you’d ever sit still for so long. 

so he carries you to bed. big, strong, tattooed arms, lifting you up with ease, like a baby bird in the maw of a rottweiler. handling you with the utmost care, tucking you under the covers, leaning forward to press a single kiss between your brows —

and then you smile.

…

sukuna stills. he watches you, watches you, watches you, every single miniscule motion of your facial features. 

then he pinches your cheek.

”owww!”

your eyes flutter open, flashing with betrayal, and sukuna only gives you that signature click of his tongue. ”did you really think you could trick me so easily?”

”i did! you carried me here!” your lips fall into a petulant frown, as you scramble to sit up straight against the fluffy pillows. he only rolls his eyes.

”i wanted to appease you,” he says, and you almost fall for it because it’s not quite a lie. ”such a brat. can’t even walk on your own, huh?”

”well, pardon me for wanting my sweet fiancé to hold me.”

”i hold you all the time.”

”it’s not the same,” you sigh, two little shakes of your head. ”whatever. you wouldn't get it.”

sukuna quirks a brow, but doesn’t push it. instead, he releases the slightest exhale, eyes blooming with amusement, his palm finding its way to your tousled hair. smoothing down your skull.

”go back to sleep,” he beckons, softly, almost hypnotically. his voice is at its most tender when it’s late at night; a little too exhausted to sharpen his syllables properly. ”i’ll hold you later.”

”… you’re not joining me?” you ask, eyes filling with confusion, and he feels a slight tug at his heart — a little string that ties him to you. 

”i need to plan next week’s meals,” he mutters, watching as you furrow your brows, meeting his gaze with a pair of disappointed puppy dog eyes. 

you know he’s weak to them.

”don’t pout,” he scoffs, looking away for the briefest little moment. weak. ”i'll do it quickly.”

”you always say that,” comes a heavy sigh. you bundle up the covers with your fists, shooting him a bitter little glance. ”but it always takes forever.”

”don’t complain,” he tuts. tilting his head, pink locks falling across his forehead, his maroon eyes. ”haven’t i pampered you enough tonight?”

at that, you fall silent. still pouting.

he tries not to feel bad. he wants to sleep with you; but he can’t. sunday nights are for meal planning. they have been since you first moved in together, and he’s not planning to put a fork in the road of his carefully nurtured routine anytime soon. he needs to make sure you eat balanced meals, get all the vitamins you need — it’s practically life and death.

still, it itches at him. the way you gnaw at your bottom lip, curl in on yourself. you look sleepy and disappointed, and the bed looks empty, which only makes you look smaller in comparison. you look small and lonely and sad.

(it makes him wish he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole; keep you tucked between his ribs, where you'll be warm and safe. but he brushes the thought away.) 

for a moment, he’s entirely still. then his pinkie twitches, beckoning him to you. there it goes, again, that invisible string. he takes a step forward, crouching down to meet you at eye level. 

”sorry,” he breathes, barely above a whisper. the word feels foreign on his tongue, but he swallows the discomfort. ”i’ll hurry. you have my word.”

you blink.

then you’re smiling, again. flipping onto your side, sluggishly, just to face him fully. ”’kay.” you reach out for his hand. ”don’t complain if i’m knocked out when you get back, though.”

he looks at your intertwined fingers. brushing his thumb across your skin, a hum buzzing in his throat. affectionate, despite his teasing. ”i wont have to listen to your nightly tangents, then.”

”you love my nightly tangents!”

a snort pushes past his lips. ”sure,” he smirks, ever so slightly, snarky enough to make it sound like a lie. because he does love them. 

he loves hearing your voice turn delirious, all sleepy and dreamy with fatigue, loves your stupid questions and even stupider answers. he loves being kept awake on nights when he feels too stiff to sleep, when he knows he’s going to have that dream again; a dream of crumbling buildings and burning flesh, of moonlight on asphalt and blood underneath a young boy’s fingernails. 

a dream where he looks at you and feels nothing but apathy — far more grueling than any of the bloodshed. 

(you chase those ghosts away, ground him back to a sweetened life. one that smells of cinnamon and sunlight and ripe fruit.)

sukuna does love your nightly tangents. but you don’t need to know that, so he doesn’t say it. he keeps it locked behind his teeth, under his tongue. 

he squeezes your palm. 

and then he’s rising to his feet. you follow him with your eyes, blinking drowsily, cheek smooshed against the soft mattress. he resists an uncharacteristic coo.

”g’night, honey,” you muster up a sweetened grin, teeth shining like stars. ”don’t stay up too late, okay?”

he hums; a silent i won’t. there are some things he won’t speak aloud, because he knows you’ll hear them anyway. 

”pleasant sleep,” he murmurs, raising a hand up to card through his hair. blinking away the fatigue — until a soft bout of laughter spills from out your throat.

”pleasant sleep?” you echo, grin teetering on something mischievous; a sleepy snort pushing past your lips. ”what are you, a fucking vampire?”

sukuna blinks.

then he’s clicking his tongue, that familiar sound, and pushing your face into the fluffy pillow on your bed — muffling your little giggles. gentle, his large palm on the back of your head. affectionate.

”behave,” he tuts, but he’s grinning. your giggles don’t fade away, even when he’s turning on his heel and walking out of your bedroom. 

”sweet dreams, count dracula!” 

he throws a glance over his shoulder, meeting your crinkled eyes. ”you’re not getting any breakfast tomorrow.”

ignoring your muffled, distressed whine, sukuna hides a fond smile behind his palm. biting down on his bottom lip to keep it at bay — absently deciding on what to make for your breakfast tomorrow. pancakes or waffles? maybe he’ll skip the vanilla ice cream, this time. just to teach you a lesson.

when he returns, half an hour later, you’re fast asleep. curled up under the covers, drool slipping down your bottom lip. he tucks you into his neck, and mouths the words into your ear — three little words, always those same little words, never quite spoken in more than a whisper, as if he fears his voice would break under their pressure.

but his breath fans against the shell of your ear, and you absently nuzzle into your arms. as if you understand. that silent language between you.

he wonders if you realize how much you mean to him.

sukuna doesn’t tell you that he loves you, but you know. you know, because it’s in everything he does.

you know that he loves you because he actually allows you into his kitchen, when anyone else would be chased out with a pitchfork. because he doesn’t push you away when you wrap your arms around his waist, over his cream-coloured apron, even though you know it distracts him while he’s cooking dinner — only ever clicking his tongue or making a noise of disapproval, placing a palm over your forearm. muttering little harmless grumbles of it’s like you want to get first degree oil burns.

you know that he loves you because you’re always the first to taste his food, without fail, the first person he goes to when he tries a new recipe. and you appreciate it, even when you joke about how honoured you are to test your king’s meals for poison. he quirks a brow and threatens to take the food away, sure, but then there’s always that one flicker of amusement in the amber of his eyes. 

you know because he grills his dumplings extra on both sides, just how you like it, because he forms his onigiri into pandas just to see you smile. because he knows how to make your perfect cup of coffee by heart, and refuses to use anything less than an absurdly expensive coffee machine, beans he grinded into powder with his own two hands. 

because he believes you deserve nothing but the best, nothing less than the finest delicacies this world has to offer. wholeheartedly.

you know that he loves you because it’s there. you can feel it, in every stolen glance, every slight smile when you finally dig in. you can feel it in the way the cutlet melts on your tongue, the way the bitter espresso runs down your throat, the warmth that blossoms in your chest when you catch him watching you with the faintest glimmer of a content smile. 

a silent declaration, a hymn you can always hear if you strain your ears enough —

i love you, i love you, i love you.

[labmem002]

i feel more drunk on coffee than any alcohol i've tried

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Dream Lover (dp x dc)

The alarm on his cellphone rang and Danny groaned as a fumbled blindly to close it again.

“Wha’ izzit?” Came a sleepy voice at his back.

Danny rubbed his eyes as he sat up. Then, he turned towards the other man entangled in the sheets.

“Nothing, go back to sleep,” Danny said before dropping a kiss on the man’s forehead, displacing his white streak. The man muttered some unintelligible words as he wriggled around a bit before settling back down.

Danny gave him a fond look before a yawn forced his eyes closed. He slipped off the bed and padded down to the kitchen. With bleary eyes he put the coffee machine on and got the milk out of the fridge as he waited for the beans be ground.

The machine was way fancier than anything Danny had ever owned but his boyfriend liked good coffee and Danny liked making him happy. The breaker-hammer noise stopped indicating the coffee was done and the halfa sipped at it as he tried to figure out what that niggling feeling in the back of his mind was.

Before he could delve into it very far, he heard his boyfriend coming into their little kitchen.

“Did the noise wake you up?” Danny asked as the man wrapped his arms around the smaller man’s waist and buried his head in his back.

“Was already ‘wake,” the octopus masquerading as a human mumbled.

“Want some coffee?”

“Please.” His boyfriend pressed a kiss to his nape before staggering towards the kitchen chair and sagging into it.

”Good night?” Danny asked as he started the machine again.

“The usual,” the man said as he rubbed the sleep out of his face.

“Why are you up early?”

“Gotta fix up the bike.” The man yawned which made Danny yawn too. “It kept backfiring last night.”

Danny hummed as that niggling feeling came back at the mention of the motorcycle. There was something there…

“What about you?” The man said as he held his face in his palm.

“Nothing much,” Danny said as he refocused on the conversation. “I don’t have to go in today, so I’ll probably just study.”

“I made butternut pasta when I came back. There’s some left for lunch,” his boyfriend said as he grabbed a banana from their fruit bowl.

“You’ll be here for lunch?” Danny asked as the flow of coffee stopped and he took the cup away from the little shelf.

“Thanks,” the man said as he accepted the cup. “Probably.”

Danny nodded and he leaned on the counter as he looked into the distance. His eyes caught on a clock and again, that annoying sensation he was forgetting something tickled him.

Clock meant hours which meant seconds which meant sand trickling in an hourglass which meant time passing and Time meant-

“Everything ok?” Came the low tenor of his boyfriend.

Danny shook away the thought and smiled at him. “Just zoning out.”

Then the smaller man finished his cup before he put it in the sink. “Gonna go brush my teeth,” he said as he walked out of the kitchen

“You didn’t even eat!” Came the voice Corning from the other room.

“Not hungry,” sing-songed Danny as he grabbed his toothbrush.

As he put the paste on the brush his mind wandered a bit. He started brushing, in the back and made his way forward. He was up to his canine and he started on his fangs which had him frown. Fangs? Wait a minute.

And then it all came rushing back. Phantom. Ghosts. This was a dream which meant-

“Nocturn,” Danny said. Sure it had been a while since he dated anyone but this was a whole new level of single if Nocturn had resorted to creating the ideal boyfriend to trap him in a dream.

Danny walked back to the kitchen and stood in the door entrance and stared at his imaginary dream boyfriend. Said boyfriend turned his head around and lifted an inquiring eyebrow.

“You really are perfect,” Danny said.

“You say the sweetest things,” the dream-construct said and the corner of his eyes creased beautifully as he smiled.

Danny sighed wistfully before bending to kiss his cheek. “Until then, dream lover.”

With a snap the dream collapsed and the halfa opened his eyes to the green of the Infinite Realms with the ghost sensation on his lips.

Simultaneously, in one of his safe houses in Gotham, Jason’s eyes snapped open as his hand flew to his cheek.

[cntloup]

Simon calming your crying baby :')

The loud squalling of your child echoes through the room, rattling him awake. He’s quick on his feet, leaving you to get some much-needed rest. It's her first night at home. You were utterly exhausted when you came back from the hospital.

He takes a glance towards your sleeping form, his eyes sparkling with love and admiration. He's so proud of you. And forever grateful. To have given him a loving family, a home. He was beside you every step of the way, witnessing what you went through and the toll it has taken on you, physically and mentally. 

He walks up to her crib and picks her up gently. You slowly blink awake and stretch your worn-out body as the scene unfolds. Her petite form resting on his forearm as he sways side to side to calm her down, cooing softly in her ear. Your heart swells with love and happiness as you watch your husband holding your daughter in his arms.

You shuffle out of bed and make your way to them, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your head on his back, “Hey, love.” he mutters, “Hey, Si.” “Didn’t wanna wake you up. Sorry.” “Hmm. It’s ok.” you hum in your sleepy haze. She slowly begins to settle and fall into a slumber, “She’s asleep.” he whispers as he places her back in her crib “Goodnight, little bean.” he murmurs to his daughter.

He turns around and gently takes you in his arms and kisses you lovingly, “Thank you.” he says as he pulls away, “For everything. For being you. For our daughter. Our family. I love you so much.” he kisses you again, pulling your body closer against his, all the love he feels for you radiating off him. “I love you too, Si. And thank you for being such a wonderful man.” 

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 

Dad!Simon art by @ave661

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Night Night, Nugget!

PAIRING || Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Fem!Reader x Toddler!OC

WORDCOUNT || 2.3K

SUMMARY || Your nighttime routine may not always be the most conventional when married to an Avenger, but you two have found a way to make it work for your little family. Bucky is often away for missions, which makes the evenings he is home with you and your toddler even more special, and the three of you make them unforgettable each time.

RATING || Explicit (E)

TAGS || Established relationship. Dad!Bucky Barnes. Kid fic. Use of nicknames. Referenced pregnancy.

SMUT || Grinding. Spooning. Light dirty talk. Praise. Fingering. Sleepy sex. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!). Orgasm delay. Multiple orgasms. Cream pie. Cockwarming.

A/N || This one-shot is written based on the request I received from the lovely @pipsqueakkitten! As soon as I saw the request come in, I had a plan for it, and I hope it is everything you've wanted! I want to give my endless thanks to @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this fic, even though you have a hectic schedule! I'm so proud of you for everything you're doing, bestie, I love you! 💙

EVENTS Masterlist || @fandombingo || Dinosaur cookies Masterlist || @fandom-free-bingo Book Night || Broken silence Masterlist || @fandom-free-bingo Frosty || Sleepy sex

Masterlist || @mcukinkbingo || Spooning Masterlist || @multifandom-flash || Glasses are sexy Masterlist || @seasonaldelightsbingo || Buck Bean

GIF: Source || All graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Sunday has been your favorite day of the week for as long as you can remember, but they have become extraordinary since the birth of your now two-and-a-half-year-old son, Onyx. Your happy-go-lucky toddler brightens every room with his excited laughter and endless talking. The fact that he looks exactly like your husband, Bucky, is the cherry on top for you.

Today has been a fun day for all three of you, as you and Bucky have taken Onyx to the large playground Tony has built on the grounds of the Avengers Compound as soon as you told him you're pregnant, and now you're preparing dinner for the three of you.

"Mama is back!" Onyx cheers as you enter the dining room. Bucky is sitting at the table beside his son, waiting for their dinner to be plated.

"Yes, Mama's here! Are you excited for dinner, Nugget?" Bucky asks, and your toddler nods happily, his dark brown curls bouncing with every move of his head. You bend down to kiss him on his head before moving to Bucky, who tips up his face to kiss your lips softly.

As soon as the food is plated for all three of you, Onyx dives in while you and Bucky talk about your husband's day at work, which was surprisingly uneventful for once. Being an Avenger has downsides, especially when he can be called away without a warning.

"Dada?" your son asks after practically smearing half his dinner onto his face and hair.

"Yes, Nugget?" Bucky answers, trying not to burst into laughter as he looks at the macaroni smeared across his forehead and curls.

"I love you," he says shyly, and your heart melts slightly at the sight as your son's cheeks turn a bright shade of red as he says it. It's not unusual for the three of you to show affection towards one another, but his sudden shyness is charming either way.

"I love you too, little Nugget. More than you'll ever know," Bucky tells Onyx with a smile before kissing him on the head, expertly avoiding the cheesy pasta sticking to his curls. A small giggle leaves your son's lips, instantly making you and Bucky smile.

"Mama?" Onyx then asks in a soft tone.

"Yes, little Nugget?" you answer with an arched brow, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you already know what's about to come.

"I love you!" Onyx exclaims, bouncing up and down in his high chair. His baby teeth show in a broad, goofy smile, and his eyes shimmer with happiness. Your heart fills with pure joy as you look at him and then at your husband.

"I love you too, Nugget," you say before planting a giant kiss on his cheek, exaggerating the kissing noise as you do. Bucky looks at the both of you with a soft, love-filled expression. The rest of dinner is finished quickly, and then you take Onyx upstairs for a much-needed bath while Bucky clears the table and does the dishes so you two can relax after your son is asleep.

"Are you ready for your bath, Nugget? I put your favorite duckies in there!" you say, and he quickly rushes to the bathroom to watch his colorful array of rubber ducks floating in the bathtub.

"Duckies are swimming," he says excitedly as he points at them. It doesn't take long for Onyx to be between them as you're washing the pasta out of his hair, and he's happily babbling away.

You consider yourself very lucky to be the Mom of such a happy-go-lucky toddler, and being married to the man you fell in love with a little over a decade ago is everything you could ask for, and more.

As you wash the shampoo out of Onyx's hair, your mind drifts to the news you want to tell Bucky later tonight. It's something you had to keep secret for a little while. Today is officially the day you can tell him, and you can't wait to tell your husband the amazing news that you're expecting baby number 2 later this year.

"Do you want me or Daddy to read your bedtime story today?" you ask Onyx as you're drying him off. He doesn't like to stay in the bath for too long, so you pull him out and wrap him in a big, fluffy towel as soon as he's done.

"Daddy tells a story!" he answers, and you nod. Seeing how Bucky isn't always home due to his meetings, he wants his Dad to read to him, and you do it on the nights he's not there. And sometimes he asks for you both to do it, making it a family activity.

"Okay, but first, we must put a diaper on and get you into some jammies. After that, we will cuddle with Dada, and you can get one or two of the dinosaur cookies you love so much," you tell him, and he agrees. Onyx will do practically anything for his dinosaur cookies, and you always have a stock of them on hand, just to be sure.

Soon after, Onyx changed into a clean diaper and his favorite pajamas before you sent him off to Bucky, who made the couch comfortable for the three of you with your toddler's favorite blanket and cookies.

"I'm ready, Dada!" he says as he walks into the living room. Bucky spreads his arms, ready to grab Onyx for a much-needed cuddle. Onyx gets comfortable on Bucky's lap, and Bucky wraps him in his favorite blanket as the cartoons he loves so much play on the TV.

While your son is cuddling with Bucky on the couch, you take a quick shower before changing into one of Bucky's henleys and some sleep shorts combined with your glasses, which is Bucky's favorite thing to see on you. In all fairness, he'd rather see you without clothing, but if he has to choose, he prefers it to be his.

As you walk into the living room, you see Onyx nibbling on his cookie while his gaze is fixed on the TV, but you cross Bucky's gaze as he takes in your appearance. He's having an absolute field day right now, from the wet hair to the glasses, his henley, and your bare legs.

"What's going on in that brain of yours, Barnes?" you ask as you sit next to him on the couch, your brow raised as a smirk tugs on the corner of your mouth.

"You," he says with a fond smile, and you immediately smile at him.

"What do you mean, Buck Bean?" you ask, and he can't stop laughing at the nickname.

"I just think your glasses are sexy. They make you look like a sexy librarian or something," he whispers before capturing your lips in a longing kiss. But you don't get to enjoy it for long because Onyx is wiggling his way between you two.

"She's my Mama!" he says before pushing Bucky away, making you both laugh.

"Well, that may be true, but I was here first," Bucky challenges his son, to no avail. He crawls closer to you before cuddling in your lap, his head against your collarbone as he gets comfortable.

"My Mama," he says with a slight pout, and Bucky gives in.

"Okay, you win. You can have her until your bedtime, but after that, she's mine again. How about that?" he asks, and Onyx nods, now smiling again, before grabbing another cookie, which he happily munches on until his eyelids are getting heavy and he's almost asleep in your arms.

"Let's get you to bed, Nugget," Bucky tells his son, who is quickly scooped up before being carried to his bedroom. As always, he gets to pick a story, but before Bucky can get through the entire thing, Onyx is fast asleep. Your husband tugs him in carefully before turning on the nightlight and monitor, and then he joins you on the couch again.

"Welcome back," you say as you kiss Bucky again after he sits down, this time without interruptions. His Vibranium hand is cold against your cheek, and the metal digits softly rub against it, but you don't mind.

You moan softly in his mouth as you fist his shirt, pulling yourself closer to him, and without a second thought, he pulls you onto his lap, where you can already feel his growing erection pressing against your slowly dampening core.

"God, I can never get enough of you, Doll," Bucky whispers against your lips, and you smile into the kiss as you slowly grind your hips over the bulge in his dark jeans. His hands grip your hips as he guides you, and the fabric of your shirt gives you precisely the friction you need to reach your high not long after.

"Hmm, have I told you how sexy you are with these glasses on?" Bucky asks after you've come down from your peak.

"Maybe once or twice," you say with a whisper, and you capture his lips in a soft kiss that leaves him wanting more as he follows your lips when you pull away.

Bucky looks at you with fondness in his eyes, and you can't help but smile as he takes in your features. You're the best thing that has happened to him since he was released from his past in Wakanda, and to this day, he's thanking his lucky stars every day for you.

"I have to tell you something," you tell Bucky, breaking the silence between you. His steel blue eyes are focused on you as his hands lie loose on your hips, his thumbs rubbing the skin under the henley you're wearing.

"You do?" he asks, and you nod.

"I'm pregnant," you blurt out, despite the ''speech'' you had prepared. Now that the moment is here, you couldn't care less about that; instead, you want your husband to know about the baby growing inside you as a token of your shared love.

"Are you serious? I'm going to be a Dad again?!" Bucky asks in disbelief, and you nod as the tears gather in the corners of your eyes.

"You're going to be a Dad again, Bucky! And Onyx is going to be a big brother!" you tell him proudly, and Bucky quickly lifts the fabric of the henley to touch your belly. The contrast between his Vibranium and flesh hand feels comforting, as it reminds you of your husband.

"I-I don't know what to say," he whispers, tears trailing down his cheeks. He already thought his world was complete with you and your son, but this proves how wrong he was about that because his universe could only get better with the addition of your baby.

"I love you so much, Doll," Bucky says before pulling you into a hug. That evening, you two share a whole lot more tears and laughter, thinking back to your first pregnancy and everything you've gone through since giving birth to your son.

Now, you find yourself in bed with your husband, both completely bare and his chest pressed against your back. His Vibranium hand is splayed over your belly as he presses many soft kisses on your shoulder and neck while whispering the sweetest things to you.

"I can't wait until you're showing again, Doll. When your belly is nice and round with my baby," he whispers as he ruts his hips against your butt, his erection trapped between your bodies. You're already starting to get sleepy, but Bucky can't stop lovin' on you since you've told him about your pregnancy.

"B-Bucky," you say in a breathy voice, and his hand trails lower until his cold, metal fingers make contact with your heated, dripping core, and you let out a soft whimper at the feeling of the metal digits playing with your sensitive clit.

"You're doing so well for me, Doll," he whispers as he keeps peppering your neck and shoulder in soft kisses, your breathing getting heavier as he lets his fingers glide through your folds before teasing your entrance.

"Please," you beg softly, and Bucky won't deny you anything when you beg this sweetly for him. Two of his fingers disappear into your entrance, and you bite your lip to supress the loud moan that threatened to escape.

His fingers keep working their magic as he brings you to your high again, but just before you fall over the edge, he pulls out your fingers, leaving you clenching around nothing - however, he's quick to soothe you and your longing pussy.

"Don't worry, Doll, I wanted to be buried inside you as you cum for me; I want to fall over the edge together," he whispers before lifting your leg and hooking it over his, giving him enough space to work his magic between your legs.

"Good girl," he says as he lines up with your entrance. It doesn't take long for him to be buried to the hilt, fitting together like two puzzle pieces. His pace is slow, but it has you feeling every inch of him in this position, feeling him deeper than you thought possible.

"Oh god, you fill me so well, Bucky," you groan as you work your hips in tandem with his, and he keeps up the slow pace as you're both still lingering between wake and sleep, making the fuzziness in your head even more enjoyable.

"Hmm, and you feel so good when you're wrapped around me, Doll," he responds, his thrusts slowly picking up as he gets closer to his high, yours being built up right alongside his own.

"I'm so close, Bucky, please make me cum," you beg again, and his Vibranium fingers move from your hip to your clit, and with a few quick, tight circles on your sensitive bud, you're clenching and milking him for all he's worth, his cum spilling deep inside you.

"I love you so much, Doll, and I can't wait to meet our baby," Bucky whispers after working you both through your highs, and you sigh contently. Not long after, you fall asleep with Bucky buried inside you, and you both have some of the best night's sleep you've had in a long time.

[kiwanopie]

suggestive. college au boyfriend!bakugou. installment II “poor timing”

He’s barely awake when he picks up his phone from where it’s charging near the bed, blearily sliding in one of his amplifiers as he presses it to the side of his head.

“Th’fuck are you callin’ me at 2am for?”

Kirishima pauses from his side of the line, curious male voices leaking into the speaker that irritate in their familiarity. “Are you just waking up?”

“What the fuck else would I be doing?”

“That’s what I’m wondering too.” He plops himself on the large bean bag sitting in the middle of his roommates floor, after knocking on his door for what felt like hours. Kaminari starfishes against his comforter, and he has to snap a few times to stop Sero from going through his friend’s stuff.

“Dude, where are you?” He asks. “Your truck’s not in the parking lot. Are you at a hotel?”

Bakugou stays silent for a long moment, fleeting as it is, it's a little disconcerting, and the chat runs empty as the sound of a running fan hisses through the static.

He sighs, brief movement stirs sleepily under his bicep and he figures it’s best to end this conversation as quickly as possible. “I’m with ____.”

“You’re-“ Kirishima stammers a little. “Can you say that again?”

“I’m at _____’s apartment.” Bakugou repeats himself - he’s obviously trying to be quiet.

“No fucking way! Dude?!” Kaminari chimes in from somewhere in the room, because of course he’s on speaker. “Like is she right next to you?”

“Can you be any fuckin’ louder?!” Bakugou whisper-yells.

“She totally is, isn’t she?” Sero chimes in. “Did you two fuck?”

Kirishima grimaces up at him from where he’s sitting. “Don’t be crude.” Though, he hesitates a moment before speaking a little closer to the speaker. “Wait, did you?”

Bakugou kisses his teeth. “What the hell was so fuckin’ important that you had to call me at two in the morning anyway?”

“Well, those of us who weren’t out getting some wanted to know if you wanted to play DnD. Since it’s the weekend and all.” Sero says.

“But I guess now you’re too good for the loser club, now that you’re some bigshot with a hot girlfriend.” Kaminari pouts.

Bakugou audibly scoffs. “I was never a part of the loser club to begin with.”

“Says the guy who’s gonna make us look for another DM in the middle of a campaign.” Kirishima retorts. “Seriously, you couldn’t have picked a better night to fuck ____? With you two gone Jirou’s gonna wanna take over your post - and she always gives us the worst scenarios.”

“They’re not that bad.” Bakugou jumps a little when the hand around his waist slithers to wipe at her sleepy eyes, cursing hushedly before the men hear him quietly apologize away from the speaker.

His three friends blush as a familiar voice leaks softly into the receiver.

“What’re you doing…?”

“…Nothin’, angel. Go back to sleep.”

The three squeal in unison.

Bakugou kisses his teeth again, whispering angrily into the speaker. “Shut the fuck up. And don’t call me this late, again!”

Click!

[skipper1331]

Obviously in love // Grace Clinton

a/n: based off this request:)

Grace Clinton liked you.

You liked Grace Clinton.

Everybody knew.

Everybody but the two of you.

Several occasions showed exactly that.

-

It started with the many superstitions the two of you had or rather shared. The girls would always tease you about it while both of you claimed and often argued that you‘d play horrible if not doing so.

1.) Grace always had to do your hair. Each time she would do a different hairstyle, each of them done perfectly as your hair wouldn‘t ever get in the way, no matter what happened.

2.) You had to tie her boots. Yes, she was able to do it herself, (like you were capable of doing your hair yourself) but something about you tying her shoes gave her enough confidence to shoot from every angle and distance on the pitch. And score goals.

3.) "ready to win?"

"Ready whenever you are"

-

"Popcorn!" Celin shouted as she entered the living room with three bowels of popcorn balancing in her hands.

The Tottenham girls were sat around the couches, arm chairs and bean bags as the movie marathon was about to begin.

Grace and you shared a bean bag, yourself sitting in between her legs while your back rested against her front and her arms were loosely wrapped around your mid section. "Try not to fall asleep to soon, yeah pretty girl?" the midfielder purred, in responds your hands pinched her thighs "If i remember correctly it was you who snored like a grizzly bear the last time" you giggled as Gracie attacked you with pokes in your side. She only stopped when she felt a smack against the back of her head, "movie starts" the captain stated. You settled back in her arms while she pulled you closer.

Her arms brought you a type of comfort nobody ever could.

-

It was save to say that Grace loved the spare key she had to your home. She used it at every opportunity she got, opening the door when you were with her "I have my own key, I can open the door for us" proudly showing the key on her key chain. Or other than that, letting herself in when you weren‘t there as she made herself a home and even using the key when you were at home but didn‘t expect her to come over.

You stood in the kitchen, preparing your dinner when you felt arms snuggling around your waist, a head resting on your shoulder. You shrieked, caught completely off guard as you yet melted in the grasp, your favourite scent filling the air.

"Gracie! You promised me!" you grumbled, turning around as you stared at the midfielder with crossed arms, "you can‘t just come over and use the spare key! It‘s for emergencies"

"It is an emergency!" she defended herself, arms up in surrender.

"What‘s the emergency, hm?"

"I missed you" she stated, pulling you close before she hid her face in the crook of your neck, mumbling something inaudible.

You sighed, asking "Do you want some dinner?" your fingers combing through her hair.

"Yes, please"

-

"You‘re staring" the voice of Beth appeared next to you, calling you back to reality.

"What did you say?"

"You‘ve got something in your eye" she repeated as you looked at her, "what? Where?" trying to find what and in which eye.

"Grace"

You glared at her while she laughed her ass off.

"Shut up!" you hit her arm, Grace already skeptically looking at the two of you from the other side of the pitch, about to make her way over.

"Come one, you like her" Beth said now in an softer tone, "and she likes you"

"We‘re best friends!" you replied, slight anger in your voice.

"Whatever you say, babes"

-

After tossing and turning for hours, you came to the realization that you weren‘t able to sleep. You didn‘t why but it annoyed you. Physically you were tired, your eyes closing every now and then but you just couldn’t fall into a deep slumber.

Not knowing what to do, but desperately in the need and want of sleep, you reached for your phone.

"Hello?" The sleepy voice rasped.

"Gracie?"

"What‘s wrong? Are you okay?" She shot up from her bed, you never called at such a late hour and with the shakiness in your voice she thought of the worst.

"I don‘t know, sorry. Forget about it" you mumbled, regretting that you called her at 3am.

"Wait-" but you had already hung up. You would find a way to sleep.

On the other side of the phone, Grace was already out of bed, throwing a hoodie and joggers over her pyjama. She raced through the apartment, every possible light on, searching for eventually needed stuff, not being bothered by the noises she made which woke up her flatmate.

"What are you doing? It‘s in the middle of the night" Celin said, leaning in her door frame while she rubbed her eyes.

"Something’s wrong"

"Do we have an intruder?!" she yelled, grabbing for the nearest weapon in her room.

"What? No. Something‘s wrong with my- Y/N"

Celin watched Grace pace through the kitchen, collecting your favourite snacks which she had stored in her home in case you hung out here, craving some of them.

"When are you going to tell her that you like her?"

"We‘re best friends"

"Are you telling me that or yourself? Everybody knows you like each other"

In silence, she put on her shoes, backpack filled with essentials before she rushed out of the house.

When she opened the door, she was met with darkness. Because of this, she assumed that you were in your bedroom. Gently, she opened the door-

"What the fuck!" you yelled, frightened. You switched on your lamp, staring at the midfielder, "you scared the shit out of me!" suddenly wide awake.

"I scared the shit out of you? You scared the shit out of me!" she replied, putting down her backpack and walking over to 'her' side of the bed - the side she slept in when she was staying over. "What are you doing here?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

"You called me and then hung up on me all of sudden." she slipped under the duvet, closing the distance, "I was worried" her hands found your waist, pulling you in her grasp before she continued, "what‘s wrong? There’s a reason you called me, so please don‘t say 'nothing'"

Looking away from her, you could feel your cheeks heating up embarrassingly.

"I couldn’t- can‘t sleep" you muttered, "and I can always sleep when you‘re here, so-"

"you thought asking me to come over would help until you realized it’s three in the morning?" she finished your sentence.

you nodded.

"I‘m sorry"

"Don’t be, I’m glad you called me" the girl tangled your legs together, resting her head on the pillow, "Besides, it's a full moon, no wonder you couldn't sleep"

With that being said, you hugged her back, resting your head on her chest like you always did.

And within a few minutes you were asleep, the rhythm of her heartbeat lulling you into a slumber.

-

Derbies were always rough matches, especially when it was Arsenal.

As it was now.

Grace and you were both in the starting lineup, excited to play against the gunners - some of your national teammates.

"Ready to win?" you asked Gracie, the girl already staring at you with heart eyes (which was unnoticed by you).

"Ready whenever you are" she replied, smiling - an unspoken rule to have this small conversation while you waited in the tunnel - Grace always lined up behind you.

In the first half, both teams had their chances, sadly none of Tottenhams and thankfully none of Arsenals leading to a goal.

With Katie McCabe on your side, it was rather physically exhausting, the Irish woman challenging you in more than one way. Each time, Grace saw you hitting the ground, she was about to rip Katie‘s head off, only calming down when she saw you get up right away. Yet her anger was still very much present in the break. She was holding your hand tightly, in the need of your touch to reduce her anger.

In the first few minutes after halftime, Alessia opened the score, fueling more pressure on the team for the equalizer. The game got rougher and more physical as tackles came sliding in from multiple players.

When Tottenham was awarded a corner kick and it came flying in your direction, you jumped up, trying to head it somewhere near the goal. But instead of hitting the ball, you felt another head smack against yours.

Grace watched in horror as you went down while her legs started to work on their own - sprinting towards you. Blood trickled down your forehead, making the midfielders stomach twist. Multiple people were at your side, including the Arsenal player who caused your injury. She pushed everybody aside, kneeling down next to you, "Get the fuck away from my girl" pure venom laced in her voice as she shoved the gunner away, her full attention on you and you only. You had a nasty cut on your forehead, eyes barely staying open. You could hear your favourite voice talking, but you didn‘t understand what she was saying - was she even talking to you? All you knew was that her hand was holding yours. You knew her touch. You‘d always recognize her touch - no matter what.

"Mate, what‘s your problem?!" Katie McCabe snarled, matching her attitude while pulling her on her collar. "My problem?!" Grace jumped up, her hands bloody from holding yours, "She‘s fucking bleeding"

"And? Everybody hurts themselves. It‘s a physical game after all!"

"She‘s not just anyone!" with that she shoved Katie to the floor, all her anger bubbling over. Of course, the defender was up on her feet in less than 10 seconds, starting to shove Grace around, both of them yelling at each other.

Katie had to be held back by Leah and Kim while Beth and Ashleigh pulled Grace away who was still shouting at the Irish woman.

How dare she to say anything about you?!

-

Winning the fa cup against Manchester United was amazing and something massive. Tottenham made history that day. Unfortunately, Grace wasn‘t allowed to play yet that didn’t stop her from cheering for the spurs, especially for you. When you scored the opening goal, Grace thought her heart might explode with all the pride she felt and when Marta made it 3-1 in the 89‘. The deal was settled.

After receiving your medals and the pitch-celebrations died down, the team decided to go out tonight.

When you entered the bar/club, you were met with very loud but fancy music, people dancing everywhere and a few of your mates sitting at a table chatting. Not in the mood to dance just yet, you joined them, greeting everybody before taking a seat in Grace‘s lap - nothing new.

Her mouth fell open as she almost drooled at the sight of you, "you look- wow" she breathed out, completely in love with you.

"Thank you!" you grinned, " you don‘t look bad yourself" while checking her out the best you could - but indeed, she wasn‘t looking bad, she looked gorgeous.

"Do you want a drink?" she asked, squeezing your hips.

"Yes, that would be nice" you replied, making no move to get up, "don‘t you want to ask what drink I‘d like?"

"I know you quite well by now" with that she got up before gently guiding you back down in her chair.

While Celin tried to make conversation with you, you only had eyes for the midfielder, admiring her from afar. You frowned when a lady approached her and started talking to her. Your jaw clenched, chest tightening as you glared daggers into the woman’s head. What‘s her problem? the strangers hand touched Grace‘s arm as she discreetly stepped closer. "Someone is flirting with Y/N‘s girl" one of the girls teased, your friends laughing at her joke. That comment made your jealousy grow, your hands balling into fists as you tried to keep your cool. "Aren‘t you going to do something?" Charli asked, sensing your frustration.

With a huff you got up, marching over to the beast who was talking to the beauty.

Stepping between both of them, you leaned against the counter, "hi! I‘m her girlfriend and you are?" your voice sounded firm and stern, Grace taken aback by your statement and your sudden outburst.

"Sorry" the girl was quick to flee the scene, not wanting any drama as well because she was scared and intimidated by you and your presence.

After the girl was gone, Grace grabbed your hips, pulling your back against her front, "What was that?" she asked, her voice raspy.

"That creature was flirting with you" you replied stubbornly, crossing your arms as you tried to leave her touch.

"Stop" Grace grumbled, pulling you back, "relax" she ordered softly, her arms wrapping fully around your midsection. As on cue, you melted in her embrace, letting all anger flow away.

"So, what was that?"

"What was what? I just wanted my drink" you answered yet defensively.

"None of that, it‘s me" she whispered as you intertwined your fingers, "were you jealous?"

You sighed, "yes"

The young lioness froze, she didn‘t expect you to be straight up honest with her. She knew you had never lied to her and she wouldn‘t assume that you would ever lie at her, but she indeed thought that you would avoid admitting your obvious jealousy.

"I don‘t like it when other people flirt with you" you mumbled after you had turned around, looking at her.

Not wanting to push you any further, she kissed your forehead in responds before guiding you on the dance floor.

"They‘re disgustingly cute" Charli told Celin as they watched the two of you dance.

"And obviously so in love"

[mediumgayitalian]

Will wakes up sometime around two, stumbling over to Arts & Crafts. He looks so incredibly, adorably sleepy, face creased with pillow marks and hair sticking out everywhere even worse than usual, that Nico can’t help his smile.

“Morning,” he says quietly, shifting over in the bench to make room. “Or, well, afternoon.”

“Mmfh,” Will responds. He sways on his feet, eyes still closed, so Nico has reach back and take his hand, guiding him to the seat Nico cleared for him.

“Still sleepy?”

Instead of answering, Will slumps onto his shoulder. Nico tenses for a moment, but quickly relaxes — Will is out of it. He’s a heavy weight on Nico’s side, and his breath comes out in little puffs; he’s halfway to snoring. He sets aside the clay sculpture he was making, wiping off his hands, and shifts slightly to make his shoulder more comfortable, sliding his hands in Will’s hair. After a quick glance to double check that no one’s around, he cards through the matted curls, carefully untangling the birds nest that sits currently upon his head.

“Night shift was long?”

Will groans, nuzzling deeper into Nico’s neck. Nico huffs, allowing it, turning his half-limp body so he’s practically sitting on top of him. It’s kind of a nice weight, actually. And Will is warm, slumped and half-sprawled in his lap like a freckly blanket.

“Got thrown up on three times.”

It takes Nico a second to decipher the words, mumbled as they are. His finger gets caught in a strand of Will’s hair as he winces, tugging a touch too hard. Will shivers.

“Oof.”

“Mhm. Shouldn’t complain, though. Not Cecil’s fault.” He pauses. “Well, it’s a little his fault. I told him not to mess with Billie’s garden.”

Nico smiles. “You know, it’s not the first time a Hermes kid has been poisoned for their dumbassery. You could’ve left his cabin to handle him.”

“They would do a horrible job. They might actually make him worse.”

“Yep.”

“…I can’t leave him to suffer, Neeks.”

“Hero complex,” Nico teases. “Sounds like a natural consequence to me.”

“Shhhh. I’m sleeping.”

“It’s two thirty in the afternoon, Solace.”

“Pot, kettle, et cetera.”

Nico smiles. “Only dorky people say et cetera when they’re half asleep.” He shifts, accepting that he has a lapful of head medic, now, no refunds or exchanges. It’s still, somehow, very comfortable — he feels as if he’s laying in a sun patch, under a warm, heavy blanket. Plus, Will smells like strawberries and lavender and his sandalwood shampoo. Nico could get used to it.

He does, however, subtly raise a couple skeleton to stand guard outside the gazebo — no need to get anyone gossiping. As cute as a sleepy Solace is, Nico can and will shove him to the ground the second anyone gets too close. He has a Reputation.

(He is a liar.)

“Did I miss the strawberry coffee cake this morning?”

“Yes.”

“Aw.”

Nico hums, untangling the last of his hair. Without anything for his hands to do, he slides them under Will’s hoodie, resting them in his stomach, ignoring his whining and exaggerated shiver at Nico’s ice-cold hands.

If Nico is going to function as his personal bean-bag chair, Will is going to function as his space heater. Fair’s fair.

“Saved a piece for you, though.”

He feels Will’s grin more than sees it, twisted up as they are. He feels his happy little wiggle, too, arms flailing before wrapping around Nico’s waist, thighs shifting before re-bracketing his hips.

“You’re my actual favourite.”

“Hm. I think you say that to all the boys you save you strawberry cake and let you nap on them.”

“Nah.” Will’s breathing starts to slow, body stilling as he rests his head right about Nico’s heart. He can feel his puffs of breath in his collarbone, tickling the skin under his thin t-shirt. “Just you.”

Nico flushes, more pleased than he’s willing to admit, and rests his chin on his head, watching over the strawberry fields. He checks that Will is actually asleep, and when he is, he presses a quick, darting kiss to his still-creased cheek, and smiles.

“You’re my favourite, too.”

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

m'starting to get my groove back no emperor so here's a lil valentines day piece i wrote, hope yall enjoy ♡ ! ( a lil bit more love for the hopeless romantic singles like me, ppl in a relationship yall can get that from your s/o's..still love yall tho ♡)

fem reader, katsuki is a nervous lil thing, his friends don't help( they do end up helping him out tho), just pure fluffyness, bksquad boys are sassy towards each other but all in good fun, bkg is a softie, kirimina kinda hinted but eiji shuts it down take it how u wanna, food n takeout mentions,dude talk written by a girl trying her best, kirishima's sheets smell bad lemme know if i missed sum else ♡ !! (no friends to lovers mentioned in this one btw..starting to feel myself goin thru withdrawal already..), not rlly reader oriented like usual but i thought this was cute lol i like the idea of katsuki caring about us so much he goes out his way to ask for help from others (despite hating doing so)teehee (also i like the idea of these silly guys interacting and i like hc-ing them okay okay i'll stop rambling okay-)

the last thing kirishima expected at 9.34 pm was someone basically busting down his door with how hard they were knocking on it.

eijirou opens the door urgently and is even more suprised to see his foul mouthed best friend on the other side of the door.

"woah, bakugou, man !" he exclaims seeing the state his friend was in. his eyes looked droopy and his clothes were wrinkled up like he had done a lot of moving around. usually, he would've assumed his friend had just awoken from a good nap, but his restless expression said otherwise. "what happened to you ? you look—"

" 'm fine." bakugou gruffs hoarsely, taking a deep breath at his friends widened eyes, softening up his demeanor just slightly " i'm good," he rephrased "just—you gonna let me in or what ?"

eijirou sputters out an "of course, of course" only for his friend let himself in before he could even move aside. though he immediately freezes when he sees-

"woah, kacchan's gone nutso ! " denki exclaims, face turning red from laying upside down on kirishima's bean bag for way too long.

"and he's up past 8 ? must be the apocalypse or somethin' " sero chuckles from his place on the floor near the dresser.

bakugou groans has he flops onto eijirou’s bed "of course you losers are here" his complaint is muffled against the pillows, but not muffled enough to where the rest of the boys can't hear.

"hey ! we were here before you ! 'f anythin', you're the one intruding—!" denki gulps, eyebrows furrowed. he quickly spins around to lay right when he feels the blood rushing to his head, taking a deep breath afterwards. sero chuckles and bakugou deadpans at kaminari for a good fourty seconds before slamming his head back down and groans even louder.

kirishima decides he's at a safe enough distance to sit down on his own bed, without making any sudden moves so as not to anger the beast that is an angry, sleepy bakugou. he places a hand near his friends leg, where he deems he's at safe to ask "what's up man ? you're usually in bed by this time.." he hears sero make a noise in agreement.

"yeah, or he's havin' kissy-kissy time with his giiiirrrlffrrieeeend.." kaminari sings, kicking his feet in the air jokingly. bakugou, to everyones suprise, flinches at the mention of you, then slams his head against kirishima's pillow harder and groaning even louder.

all three friends share a curious-somewhat worried look. kirishima nudges his head in bakugou's direction, silently begging his friends to say something. said friends adamantly shake their heads, as if synchronized, making a cross motion with their arms. kirishima sighs to himself, some friends.

yet again, he is the first one to speak up " did..did something happen between you two, didja fight or something ?" he asks carefully, his entire body is strained and the air in the room is so heavy, everybody present ready to get a big portion of the great lord explodo-bomberkill's anger.

only to be met with bakugou turning around to lay on his back eyebrows strained slightly and eyes absent, thinking about something they don't know "what ? course we didn't fuckin fight, idiot." he answers simply.

the three friends all let out an obnoxious sigh of relief, to katsuki's slight confusion.

"hoo, okay." kirishima answered relieved. he knows you and bakugou don't fight very much (which he thinks is super manly) but he knows that when it happens bakugou get's extremely—EXTREMELY—irritable, so it's best to stay away from him while he has his heart broken for a little bit, unless he reaches out by himself, but that only happens when he feels really bad and came to ask for advice on how to get his boyfriend priviledges back. "soo.." eijirou sings "what happened then ?"

bakugou's face hardens and the group stiffens again, preparing for a latent explosion--perhaps the volcano was still dormant and was about to be set off. the three boys hold their breaths.

bakugou takes a deep breath, a sour expression on his face.

3..

bakugou huffs out a sigh.

2...

he opens his mouth to speak and—his cheeks are turning pink ?

"valentine's day's after tomorrow and i don't know what the fuck to get her."

the three boys slump over and kaminari does so so hard his face bangs against the floor. kirishima feels like he's in a sitcom or some gag anime.

" that's it ?" sero chuckles to himself "what ? you're worried for valentine's day ?" sero mocks, gladly taking the opportunity to mess with the blond "that shit's easy man." he cackles, leaning against the dresser more comfortably.

"yeah dude, all you gotta do is get her some chocolates and like—a teddy bear or somethin' girls love that typa stuff !" kaminari piped up, having lifted his head up from the floor. sero nods and bakugou lifts himself up to scoff at them. it feels like it comes from the deepest depth of his very being and kirishima feels a little hurt, despite not being the target of the attack.

"this is why you losers don't have girlfriends yourselves, so i don't wanna hear anythin' from you." kaminari chokes out an "ouch, dude !" " sides, i'm not just gonna settle for that boring ass shit for my girl. no chance in hell." bakugou concludes gruffly.

"yeah, yeah we get it you're the perfect boyfriend" sero quips bitterly, rolling his eyes. " why'd you come here to ask us if, according to you, we get none ?" he questioned raising an eyebrow.

"i came here for shitty hair, not you bastards." the blond spits, rolling his eyes as well before turning to kirishima, who jumps a little at his friends slightly desperate eyes on him.

"woah, i don't have—what makes you think i would be any help ?" the redhead splutters, waving his hands around.

"don't you have something goin' on with alien chick ?"

"what ?! no dude, we're just friends !"

at that, bakugou's eyes widen the slightest bit before he groans for what feels like the 5Oth time tonight, and flops back onto the bed dramatically, turning his head away from his friend " your fuckin' useless too, then." his friend grumbles angrily.

"hey !" kirishima exclaims "mean ! i help you with your girlfriend troubles all the time without having one !"

bakugou turns to face his friend again with narrowed eyes, before exhaling a frustrated sigh and lifting himself up again, eyebrows furrowed. "your sheets smell like ass by the way." he chides, nose scrunched slightly.

"h-hey !" kirishima reiterates " i was gonna wash 'em !"

bakugou gives him an incredulous look, before shaking his head, sighing.

"well look, how about you just get her something you know she likes, isn't that good enough ?" sero offers, shrugging to himself.

"ou ! i saw a guy on tiktok ask his girlfriend out with wingstop, you could like-" kaminari, despite getting lightheaded before has apparently not learned his lesson as he flips around on his back again "—ask her to be your valentines with some fast food chain she likes, and those cute pink heart balloons they sell at the mall, y'know !"

the boys all hum at kaminari's suprisingly helpful idea. kirishima doesn't wanna say it out loud but he really hadn't expected such a cute idea from his electric friend.

"y'know, i was gonna say you were just hungry with the wingstop thing, but that's actually not a bad idea kaminari." sero hums absentmindedly with an impressed expression on his face. kirishima sweatdrops at his lack of tact but isn't really suprised.

"fuck you, man ! you guys never trust me with this stuff." kaminari whines mostly to himself. "yer track record isn't really the best when it comes to scoring girls, is it ?" sero retorts.

kirishima shakes his head seeing his friends start to bicker. he decides to ignore them and turn to his spiky haired friend, who seems deep in thought "well, what about it ? that sound like a good idea ?" he asks.

"s'not half bad.." his friend mutters in response " it's a good start, i guess."i if he notices how kaminari presses a hand to his chest with a heartfelt look on his face, he doesn't comment on it.

"oh, maybe try the take-out and a movie, i'm assuming you're not trynna have a whole celebration, yeah ?" bakugou grunts in response, his nose scrunches as he cringes thinking about the idea. he shakes his head "no, want it to be..about just the two of us, y'know ?" he utters honestly, in a way that sounds way too out of character from him.

a symphony of awwwss resonates around the room and katsuki feels his cheeks heat up hard as he harshly tells his friends to shut up.

" but seriously i'm curious, you guys are already together right ? why would you need to ask her to be your valentine anyway—shouldn’t that be a given ? " sero wonders.

"i don’t fuckin know, my old hag says it’s about the principal or some shit like that." bakugou sighs, flopping back onto the bed and throwing an arm up over his eyes, it seemed like being up so late was affecting him.

"no way dude, you called your mom ?" kaminari asks, jaw practically reaching the floor (or the ceiling..?) in shock. bakugou flushes and splutters as he hears his friends reaction to this apparently shocking news.

“shut up.” he growls “she says it’s important to show i care.. my old man does it an' they're still together right now so he must be doin' something right.

"woah man.." kirishima uttered in awe " you're goin so far to make your girlfriend happy.." he clenches his fist "s-so manly !" bakugou simply grumbles to himself in response.

"honestly..i didn't expect that from you..like at all."

"fuck off !"

"like genuinely, at all. or maybe like, 0.00003 percent cha-"

" i'll fuckin' kill you tape arms !" bakugou barked, small sparks shooting out of his palms as he kneeled at the foot of kirishima's bed in pursuit of the black haired boy. kirishima swiftly swoops in and grabs his friends arm, quickly putting his finger over his mouth

"shhhh, man !" kirishima shushes. " if we're loud, class rep's gonna hear us !" he hisses.

"or worse, mr. aizawa..." kaminari whimpered.

all four boys share a shiver.

afterwards, bakugou sighs, acting as if him almost literally blowing up at his friend a minute ago hadn't happened and gets up to sit on the side of the bed.

"well whatever, i'm satisfied." he says, a little yawn leaving him "my folks gave me some ideas so i'll use those too." his eyes zip around the room and back to the floor, then he closes his eyes and speaks so quietly kirishima barely catches it

"you guys' idea isn't horrible either so i'll keep it in mind..thanks." he utters a quick " 'r whatever." before suddenly getting up and practically sprinting to the door.

it's quiet in the room as everyone sits stunned and kirishima is the first to speak again "o-oh yeah, no problem man, anytime !" he beamed, though still slightly shocked.

"yeah, no problem..!" kaminari can't seemed to decide if he wants to smile or be stunned. his mouth stuck in an awkward half-smile-half- '°O°-' face.

" course." sero raises a thumbs up and a small smile.

bakugou grunts to himself, graces his friends with a simple "night." then pulling the door open quietly, looking around the hallway quickly before swiftly creeping out the room, closing the door behind him. the boys quickly reciprocate the goodnight quietly before he can fully close it. he stutters at the door for a second longer and kirishima knows he heard them then, so he's satisfied.

it's quiet in the room for about 5 seconds after bakugou's left.

"dude, for some reason that made me feel all warm inside..is that just me ?" kaminari hummed, pressing a hand to his chest.

"nope, me too" sero admits, sighing to himself.

"yeah, same here" kirishima says as well, smiling to himself " he really cares about yn, huh ?"

"i can give him that, yeah" sero stretches, getting up so he can jump onto kirishima's bed.

"dude" he lifts his head up "your sheets do smell like ass." sero snickers.

" I- AM-GONNA-WASH-THEM !! "

afterwards valentines day comes around. the boys don't have valentines of their own but when they see you and katsuki hand in hand, with you holding onto those cute pink heart balloons from the mall, wearing a sweater a little too big for you and a valentines day gift bag in your one hand, with bakugou holding onto a bag of take-out and offering them a single side glance and a nod with a half smirk on his lips, they feel extremely proud of themselves. bakugou reminds himself to tell his friends he owes them one.

[corroded-hellfire]

Love Comes Walking In - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie didn’t want to go to prom, until he wanted to go with Chrissy. You wanted to go to prom, but not if Eddie is going to go with Chrissy. But above everything, you want Eddie to be happy.

Note: this whole thing mostly came about because I wanted to write the one scene with Dustin. You’ll know the one.

Words: 6k

Eddie teasing you was nothing new. His lighthearted jabs about your skirt making you look preppy or having sleepy eye boogers first thing in the morning roll off your back, occasionally even making you laugh along. But when he teases you about wanting to go to prom, that gets under your skin. 

Wanting one special night to wear a pretty gown with glowing makeup and neatly styled hair didn’t sound stupid to you. To your best friend, it seemed like torture. The whole school year Eddie would rag on you about buying into the whole conformist commercialism that you thought of as a rite of passage. That makes it even worse when he suddenly changes his tune just a week before the dance. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” Jeff complains. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Just because I changed my mind doesn’t mean I’m ridiculous,” he argues.

“You changed your mind because of a girl!” Gareth shouts. 

Jabbing your green beans with your plastic fork, you stay silent as the boys bicker back and forth. Part of you was also afraid to open your mouth, unsure of what would come out.

“You say that like I’d go to prom with any girl,” Eddie snaps. “I’m not saying I’m going, I’m saying I would go with Chrissy.”

The fork is clutched so hard in your hand that you think it’s going to snap in half. 

“What’s wrong with wanting to go with anyone?” Jeff asks.

Eddie waves a dismissive hand at him and wrinkles his face up in distaste, not bothering to give a verbal response. 

“Hypocrite,” you mumble under your breath.

“I am not.” Eddie stares at you and your head jerks up in surprise that he heard you. 

“Yes, you are,” you say. “You’ve made fun of me all year for wanting to go and now because you have a crush, it’s different? Bullshit.”

“I changed my mind,” Eddie reiterates. 

“Fine,” you say with a huff. It’s not worth arguing with him over. 

“Maybe you should apologize,” Dustin suggests softly.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Come on, you have been on her ass about it all year,” Dustin says. 

“Thanks, Dustin,” you say. “But it’s fine.”

Eddie opens his mouth, but you don’t give him a chance to speak. Chair legs scraping against the floor, you push your seat back and stand up from the table. The guys all watch as you leave, dumping your tray in the trash before stalking out of the cafeteria. 

Arguments with Eddie rarely happened. They’re so rare that neither of you know how to react when you next see each other. Are you still fighting? Has it been long enough where you both can pretend like nothing ever happened? There’s no chance to talk to one another in your shared algebra class the next day, so it wasn’t until lunch that you really came face to face. Eddie’s at the table before you, and you plop down in your usual seat next to him. 

“We cool?” Eddie asks as you’re in the middle of lifting a forkful of mac and cheese to your open mouth. 

“Uh, yeah,” you say, eyeing him over your full fork. “I guess.” 

“Good.” He slouches down in his seat, as if he can relax now that he knows you’re on good terms. “Oh shit, here I got you something.” Eddie reaches into his metal lunchbox and pulls out a Three Musketeers bar. “Band kids are selling candy, so I bought your favorite for you. Hide it before Henderson gets here or he’ll steal it.”

“Thanks,” you say with a grin. This was exactly the reason why your feelings for Eddie would never go away. Just when he pisses you off to the point where you swear you’re never going to sit with him at lunch again, he turns around and does something sweet and thoughtful without expecting anything in return. 

“Breaking news, losers,” Gareth says as he drops his tray on the table. “I have a prom date.”

“Well shit, I guess hell has frozen over,” Mike says as he and Dustin join the rest of you. 

“You’re not a senior,” Jeff points out.

“No, but my date is.” Gareth’s smirk is enough to earn an eye roll from both you and Eddie. 

“Who’s that desperate?” 

Gareth throws a French fry at you - which you dodge - before he answers. 

“Calling Kel desperate?” 

“What?” you almost screech. “How are you going with one of the sweetest girls at school?”

“I’m super cool,” he says, making the rest of you bust out in laughter. 

“But seriously,” Jeff says.

“You’re all assholes,” Gareth says before digging into his food. “At least I have a date.” 

Eddie goes to reply, but you’re afraid of what he’s going to say, so you scoop up your backpack and excuse yourself to the bathroom. Once you step out of the cafeteria, you roll out your neck and shoulders, trying not to think of Eddie back in there talking about prom with the guys. You push the girl’s bathroom door open and breathe a sigh of relief when you’re the only one in there. Dropping your bag on the floor between your feet, you lean forward on one of the sinks and look at yourself in the mirror. A few deep breaths later, you feel your body relax. It’s short lived, however, when the door squeaks open on old hinges and two cheerleaders step in. 

You feel bad for the guttural reaction you have to seeing Chrissy’s blonde ponytail swinging behind you in the mirror. She is a complete sweetheart who wouldn’t hurt a fly, but the jealous green-eyed monster rears its ugly head and your fingers dig into the cool porcelain. 

“It really sucks,” the other cheerleader says to Chrissy. You know you’ve seen her around, but you don’t know her name. Both cheerleaders park at the sinks next to you to touch up their makeup. Chrissy throws you a bright smile and a friendly wave before taking her lip gloss out and turning back towards her friend. 

“I know,” Chrissy says. “I knew we were going to break up, but I was hoping for it to be after prom. How am I supposed to find a new date in a week?”

“I’m sure you’ll have no problem with that,” her friend assures her.

“I don’t know,” Chrissy says with a sigh. “Everyone probably has their dates by now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Your pulse is raging in your ears and sweat is starting to make your hands slip against the sink. The internal debate rages inside of you. Do you let your jealousy get in the way of something that will make Eddie happy? It would throw away any shot you had of going to prom with Eddie yourself - but you know that was a long shot anyway. 

Still undecided, you take a step back from the sink, and your backpack falls over. You bend down to pick it up and the Three Musketeer bar falls out. It feels like your gaze should melt the chocolate that’s laying before you. Damn Eddie and his thoughtfulness at buying you the stupid candy. You toss it back in your bag, wincing as you prepare self-destruction. 

“Hey, Chrissy,” you say.

She turns to you with a smile, putting the top back on her lip gloss.

“Hey! What’s up?”

“I, uh, didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” you say as you slide your backpack on. You can’t manage to look her in the eyes as you speak. “But I know someone who doesn’t have a date yet.”

“You do?” She perks up in interest and the souring of your stomach almost keeps you from going further. 

“Yeah.” It sounds painful coming out of your mouth and you hope neither cheerleader notices. “Um, Eddie? Eddie Munson.”

“Really?” her friend asks. She crosses her arms over her chest and juts a hip out. You’re two seconds away from smacking the snotty look off her face when Chrissy speaks up.

“Eddie is great,” Chrissy says, looking over her shoulder at her friend before looking back at you. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Think he’ll say yes if I ask him?”

“I do.” Those two words were almost the hardest to get out. It was killing you how much of an understatement it was. 

“Okay!” The eagerness in her voice makes you want to cry. There’s no way you’ll be able to face Eddie back in there. 

“You can, um, ask him now if you want,” you say with a shrug. With a deep breath, you head towards the bathroom door. You stop halfway out the door and turn back around. “Oh, if Eddie asks,” you say, doubting he would because he’d be too consumed by the fact that his dreams were coming true, “can you just tell him I wasn’t feeling well and left?”

“No problem.” Her brow furrows in concern and she takes a step towards you. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” It’s the biggest lie you’ve told in a while. “Cramps.” You put your hand to your lower abdomen and Chrissy gives you a sympathetic nod.

“Feel better!”

Without answering her, you walk out of the bathroom and down the hall, to the school exit. As soon as you slide into your car, the tears start. They start pouring so heavily and your hands shake so badly that you can’t put your key in the ignition. Momentarily giving up, you drop the keys in your lap and drop your head down to the steering wheel. 

Giving yourself enough time to get the worst of it out, you pull back and use your sleeves to wipe down your face. With a deep breath, you close your eyes and try to center yourself. After a few breaths in and out, in and out, you’re able to get the keys in the ignition on the first try. You pull your car out of the parking lot and head towards your house. The conversation you had with Chrissy keeps going through your head and you can’t keep from picturing the euphoric look that will be on Eddie’s face when she asks him. The saving grace you’re holding on to is the fact that Chrissy immediately defended Eddie to her friend. There aren’t many people in the school who would do that. 

Luckily, no one is home when you get to your house and you’re able to go inside and sulk in peace in your bed. More tears leak out as you hug your pillow to your chest. You must end up falling asleep because the persistent ringing of your doorbell jolts you awake sometime later. Heart racing from the adrenaline, you pull yourself out of bed and drag yourself to the front door. 

Eddie’s standing on the other side and it’s the first time his smile has ever broken your heart. 

“You are the best!” He swoops into your house and wraps you up in his arms. “Oh shit, sorry. I forgot, Chrissy said you’re having some girl pains.”

Right. 

“They’re better now that I’ve rested,” you say. “And you don’t have to thank me. Just doing what a good friend would do, right?”

“The best friend in the world!” He takes your head in his hands and presses a loud smacking kiss to your forehead. His happiness is infectious and despite your foul mood, a small smile curls on your mouth. 

“Now,” he says, taking both of his hands in yours. “We have to find a date for you.”

“Oh.” Your face drops and you shake your head. “I’m not going to go.”

It hadn’t occurred to you that Eddie would still be thinking about how you wanted to attend prom. The idea of his own perfect date should’ve been occupying his whole brain, but damn Eddie and his thoughtfulness. 

“What?” Eddie immediately frowns and it tugs at your heart. It tempts you to tell him you’ll go, but the mental image of Eddie dressed up and dancing with a flawless-as-usual Chrissy makes you bite your tongue. 

“You were right before,” you tell him. “It’s dumb and there’s shitty music. Plus, the dresses are way too expensive.” The dress you planned on wearing was already in your closet, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. 

“Are you sure?” Eddie dips his head down to meet your eyes. He raises an eyebrow at you questioningly. 

“Yeah,” you tell him. 

“I’m going to miss you there,” he says, and you almost slip up and laugh out loud at his statement. 

“Oh please, you’ll be having way too much fun to notice I’m not there.” 

“Like that could happen,” Eddie says with a skeptical look. 

You don’t bother arguing with him, even though you know he’s wrong. 

On your way to the cafeteria the next day, you can’t bring yourself to walk in. You know if you do then you’re just going to be hearing about plans for prom and you don’t trust yourself not to break down in tears in front of everyone. There was no way you could avoid the guys entirely until prom, but you couldn’t face them today. Eddie doesn’t want to be with you. He wants to be with Chrissy. And you have to make yourself seem okay with that somehow. Just not today. 

There’s a vending machine on the way to the gym, so you pick up a bag of crackers and a bottle of coke. The gymnasium is empty, so you take a seat on the bottom row of bleachers and start to eat your sad little lunch. It’s easy to let your mind wander, so you try to redirect it away from where it wants to go. Usual calming fantasies revolve around Eddie in some way, but that’s out of the question right now. 

Your mind can’t stray far from Eddie though, so you let your mind divulge in a little dark fantasy as you eat. What would happen if you just ran away? What would happen if you just threw some clothes in a bag and bolted? You would never actually do it, but imagining Eddie being sad over you leaving brings you a sick sort of comfort. Because he would miss you. You know he loves you, it’s just not in the same way that you wish. 

As you crumble up your wrapper in your hand, the gym door opens and a familiar hat over tousled curls walks in. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look at you, as he walks your way with his hands in his pockets. Sneakers squeak across the shiny floor and come to a sudden halt as he stops in front of you. 

Dustin dips his chin down and raises his eyes to look at you. He takes one hand out of his pocket and holds it out to you.

“Yes?” you ask, looking between his eyes and his hand. 

“I know what you did for Eddie,” he says. “We all know. Except for him, he’s an idiot. But it really was a nice thing to do. I never could’ve done it.”

“Thanks,” you say skeptically, unsure of where he was going with this. 

“He told us you said you don’t want to go to prom. I know that’s bullshit. So,” he says, bringing his hand back and extending it to you again, “I am asking you if I may take you to the prom.”

Your eyes immediately well with tears as you look up at the boy in front of you. Dustin was always one of the sweetest people you knew, but this was taking it to a whole other level. 

“Oh, Dustin,” you say. You take his hand and tug his arm until he’s sitting on the bleacher next to you. “That is the sweetest offer I’ve gotten in my entire life. But I can’t go to prom.”

Dustin sighs and nods his head.

“Can’t see them together?” he asks.

“Correct.”

He wraps his arm around you, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“So, everyone knows, huh?” you ask. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you stare at Eddie a lot.”

The laughter that bubbles out of you is so unexpected that you bring your hand up to cover your mouth. 

“I know,” you admit. “I do.”

“And you look at him differently than you look at anyone else,” he says. 

“Like he’s an idiot?” you ask and Dustin chuckles. 

“No, I think we all look at him that way.”

You sigh and pick your head up from Dustin’s shoulder. You pat his arm and give him a grateful smile.

“Dustin Henderson, you are the best. And if I were going to go to the prom with anybody at all, it would be you.” 

“Well, when I go to my senior prom, I hope I go with someone half as awesome as you.”

That makes the tears spill over and you hastily wipe them off your cheeks. 

“God, I love you.” You throw your arms around his neck and give him the tightest hug you’ve given anyone in a while. He chuckles as he hugs you back.

“Who doesn’t?”

The night of prom comes, and you stand in your kitchen, alone in the house and in your comfiest sweats, making cookie dough. Screw warnings of not eating raw eggs, you were making this dough to eat, not cook. The last few days at school you went back to eat lunch with the guys but used a fake sore throat as an excuse for staying quiet and distant. You really only needed to fool Eddie though, since the other guys knew what was really going on with you. 

You take the bowl of cookie dough into the living room and set it down as you flip through the VHS tapes you’d rented earlier in the day. Steve had known about you not going to prom because, of course he did, Dustin tells him everything. You assured him it wasn’t a big deal, just wanting to get out with your movies. 

Settling on The Outsiders because you could stare at Rob Lowe all day, you pop the tape in and settle on the couch with your favorite blankets and your bowl of cookie dough. You can only eat about a quarter of the dough before your stomach has had enough. It sits on the table in front of you as you watch the rest of the movie. It’s not even eleven by the time the movie’s over but you don’t feel up to sitting through another one. You take the bowl of cookie dough back into the kitchen and stick it in the refrigerator. Thoughts of what’s happening at the prom have been trying to jam their way into your brain all night, but without the movie to distract you, those thoughts finally break in. Is there a slow song playing right now? Are Eddie’s hands on her hips or is one wrapped around her back while the other holds her hand? Is he having a good time? Are they playing any music that he likes? What did he end up wearing? You know you’ll end up seeing pictures but you’re not looking forward to seeing how pristine Chrissy is all dolled up when she’s naturally so beautiful on her own. Right now, you can imagine she’s wearing a garbage bag and her hair is all rolled up in curlers and her makeup looks like a clown’s. But once you see pictures, that illusion you’ve clung to will burst like a bubble in your heart. 

You press the heels of your palms to your eyes to try and stop the impending tears from falling. A few deep breaths and you get it under control. This heartbreak shit sucks. 

Before heading up to your room, you grab a water bottle from the fridge and your blanket off the couch. On your nightstand is a small radio and you click it on so you won’t be alone in silence with just your thoughts for company. The sheets feel cold and crisp as you slide into them. Putting your blanket back on top of you, you curl up on your side and nuzzle your face into your pillow. The light’s still on in your room, but you didn’t feel like getting up to turn it off.

The dial on your radio must’ve gotten knocked at some point - which happened often as you fumbled with things on your nightstand constantly - because smooth jazz starts playing and you huff a laugh into your pillow. You weren’t moving to fix that, either. When your parents come home, if you’ve already fallen asleep, your mom will turn both the radio and light off for you. 

But the jazz is actually more soothing the longer it plays. It calms your frayed nerves and helps you start to doze off, body finally giving in to the exhaustion you’ve been feeling from all the stress lately. 

In your half-asleep state, you hear your parents come home. They’re not exactly quiet walking around downstairs, but they also probably didn’t expect you to be sleeping this early. The thudding of your mom’s heels coming up the stairs echoes in the quiet hallway, drifting into you even over the radio. The footsteps keep coming towards your room and you’re looking forward to the sweet darkness you’ve craved when your mom gets to your room. But the lights don’t turn off. Instead, the bed dips next to you and you feel someone lay down beside you. 

She means well, you know, because she knew that you were bummed to miss prom, even if she didn’t know why. But the last thing you wanted right now was to have her try and talk to you about how you’re feeling. You know you’ll lose it and end up crying yet again. She stays quiet beside you though and you’re thankful for it. 

“I know you’re not asleep.”

The deep voice startles you and your eyes snap open. Eddie’s laying down on his side, facing you, head propped up on his arm. He’s smiling at you. It’s the first thing you notice before your eyes travel down, taking in the suit he’s wearing. Partially a suit, anyway. He’s wearing nice black slacks, which you didn’t even know he owned, with a maroon button up shirt. No jacket, but you’re not sure if he had one on earlier or not. He’s still your Eddie though, because he has his pick necklace on and his many rings adorning his fingers. 

“Look at you.” Your voice sounds a bit froggy between almost being asleep and all the crying you’ve done. “Not a stitch of denim in sight.”

Eddie chuckles. It sounds so nice. He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask.

“Came by to see my best girl,” he says. Maybe he still says it out of habit, but you’re pretty sure you’ll be losing that title shortly. 

“But prom,” you say, whinier than you intended to. 

“It’s over,” he says.

You frown and crane your neck to see the clock on your dresser. The neon green tells you that it’s just after one in the morning. You must’ve dozed longer than you thought.

“How was it?” you ask, bracing yourself for the answer. 

“Pretty much how I expected it to be.”

“Oh yeah?” The fake smile on your face is starting to feel second nature, and you hate it. “Everything you’d hoped?”

“No,” he says with a laugh. He shakes his head and twirls the ring on one of his middle fingers with his thumb. “I was right the first time. Shitty music. Horrible punch - which Principal Higgins was guarding like he was trying to keep the Huns from invading China. People at our school can’t dance for shit, myself included. And to top it all off, my favorite person wasn’t there.”

Your brow scrunches together and you sit up in bed.

“She stood you up?” 

“What?” Eddie asks. When he realizes what you mean, he closes his eyes and smiles. “No, you dork. I meant you. You weren’t there.”

“Me?” you ask. The skepticism in your voice cuts right to Eddie’s heart. He frowns and scoots forward on the bed so he can rest his hand on your hip. 

“Yes, you. You’re doubting that you’re my favorite person?”

“Well, kind of,” you say quietly. 

“Why?” he asks, and his frown makes your heart plummet into your stomach. 

“It’s just, you were so excited to go with Chrissy.”

“I was,” he admits. “But just because I had a crush on a girl doesn’t mean that you’re not still my number one.”

Had. The one word sticks in your mind and you know there are other things you should say, better things, but the question is burning your tongue so it has to come out.

“Had a crush?” you ask. 

Eddie nods and rubs his thumb over your hip bone.

“Turns out a lot of crushes can go away quickly if you actually spend time with the person.”

“Did she say something? Do something?” you ask.

“No,” he says simply. “She’s great. There was just nothing to talk about after the first twenty minutes or so. She knows nothing about my interests, and I know nothing about hers.”

“Just didn’t click?” you ask.

“Yeah, exactly,” he says. He’s silent for a moment, mouth pursed in thought. “This is a horrible analogy, but it’s what came to mind. It’s like when a present is sitting there in front of you, and it’s wrapped beautifully. Ribbons and bows and all that jazz. You just stare at it and want it, imagining what kind of fun thing could be inside. Then, you finally get it, you can hold it in your hands. You open it and it’s a new shirt. It’s nice, but not what you were expecting. You don’t dislike the shirt, it’s just not the present you wanted.” 

“Look at you with the metaphors,” you say with a smirk. “Senior English three times and you’re a full-on scholar now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and playfully squeezes the skin at your hip.

“I was being serious,” he says.

“I know. And I get it. You kissed a frog who didn’t turn into a princess.”

“And you thought I had an odd way of putting it,” Eddie says with a laugh. “But I didn’t even kiss her before I knew there was nothing there. Once the excitement wore off it was pretty boring, actually.” 

“I’m sorry it wasn’t what you wanted,” you tell him honestly. 

“I’ve always known the prom itself would suck. Just thought it might be fun with the right date. And it might’ve been, but I didn’t have that.” He takes a deep breath and looks into your eyes. “I should’ve brought you.”

The tears are coming but you force them to hold their position. It’s hard not to yell at him that that’s what you’ve wanted all along. But there’s no point. Any begging or pleading before the prom wouldn’t have gotten him to agree to take you. So, instead of living in the ‘if you realized this sooner I could have gotten to go to my prom’, you let it go by and just appreciate the fact that he wishes he had gone with you instead of Chrissy. 

“But I’ve had an idea,” Eddie says as he pushes himself off your bed. 

“And what’s that?”

“Well,” he says as he walks over to your closet. “First things first, I’ve got to see what we’re working with here.” 

“Why?” You scoot down to the foot of the bed to see what he’s doing more clearly. He’s going through your clothes, inspecting every piece, and deeming them unfit for whatever scheme he’s cooked up in his brain. 

“You’ll see. Wait. Are you kidding me?” He reaches into the back of your closet and pulls out the gold dress that you had bought for prom. “You told me you didn’t get a dress!”

“How do you know I haven’t had that dress for a while?” But your blush won’t let you get away with the lie.

“Well for starters, the tag is still on it.” He brandishes it to you and you huff.

“Okay, yeah, yeah, I had a dress. But I didn’t want to go, and I didn’t think you’d end up riling through my closet anyway.” 

“Put it on,” he says, tossing its hanger into your lap.

“I’m sorry, what?” The dress tries to slide from your lap to the floor, so you pull it up and lay it down on the bed next to you.”

“Put it on,” he says slower this time, as if that should clear up everything. 

“Why?” 

“Because I want to dance with you,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, I’d dance with you in your sweats, but I thought you might want to get all dolled up like me.” He smirks and runs his hands down the buttons of his maroon shirt. 

“You want to dance with me?” Maybe you’re still asleep and this is all a dream. 

“Yeah.” Again, he says it as if it’s something you do every day. His casual tone is making you think you’re the one who’s not making sense. 

“Okay,” you say as you stand. “I guess I’ll go change.”

“This is your room,” Eddie says, heading to the door. “Change here, I’ll wait out here.” He walks into the hallway, closing your bedroom door behind him. 

You slip the sweatpants down your legs and tug the sweatshirt off over your head. The single strapless bra you own is at the bottom of the drawer and you have to dig your way down to find it. The gold dress has a halter neckline so there’s no way you could wear a regular bra underneath. You squeeze the bra on, and even change your panties from blue ones with butterflies on it, to one of the few lace ones you own. 

The dress unzips easily and glides down your body as you get situated. You can’t zip it yourself, but Eddie can do that for you. Most of the makeup you own is in the bathroom, but you can make do with the little bit sitting over on your dresser. Looking in the mirror, you do a soft layer of makeup and then inspect your hair. It strikes you as funny when you see yourself in a golden dress with makeup on, but total bedhead up on top. You yank the scrunchie out of your hair and shake your head to toss your hair around. It looks better but not great. Your eyes land on a silver hair clip dotted with pearls and you reach up to tuck some of your hair back and secure it with the pin. There. The look is done. 

When you open your bedroom door you expect Eddie to be waiting there but you don’t see him. You stick your head into the hall and look both ways but see no metal head. 

“Eddie?” you call.

“Coming!”

He jogs out of your dad’s office a few doors down, carrying a few sheets of paper. Eddie comes to a halt as he takes in your appearance. Heat blooms in your face as you watch Eddie scan every last detail of this ensemble. 

��You look gorgeous,” he says. It’s enough to make you pass out, but you somehow stay standing firm.

“Thank you,” you say. “You look very handsome. Did I tell you that when you first got here?”

“No,” he says with a chuckle. “Just a remark about me not wearing any denim.”

“Which is truly a miracle. But you do look handsome. Very handsome.”

He smiles and takes steps towards you, paper still in his hands.

“What’s this?” you ask.

“I’m not very good at origami, but I did my best to turn this sheet of paper into a corsage.”

Your heart leaps at his words and it’s another battle of wills with your tears when Eddie slips his improvised flower on your wrist. Some tears win the battle, and they trail down your face. Luckily, you were smart enough to apply waterproof makeup. 

“Eddie, this is…” you trail off, not having the words to express how you’re feeling. 

“You wanted prom, so I’m giving you prom.” He takes both of your hands in his and guides you back into your bedroom. He closes the door behind him with his foot, his eyes never leaving your face. 

“Can you zip me up?” you ask. He nods and you turn around. His hands against your back sends a shiver up your spine and goosebumps break out over your arms. You hear him chuckle and he trails the tips of his fingers over your shoulders as you turn back around.

“What’s with the smooth jazz?” Eddie can’t help but laugh at the saxophone solo coming in over the speakers. 

“I hit the dial again.”

“Well, let’s fix that.” He bends down and turns the dial to find a good station. The static goes in and out, some songs coming through in pieces, or sounding like they’re underwater. It finally lands on a clear station and Eddie grins in triumph. “Perfect. Love Comes Walking In.”

“You know I love Van Halen.”

Eddie stands up straight and takes the few steps over to you. He bows in classic dramatic Eddie fashion, and he comes back up with a frown on his face.

“You’re not wearing heels. Or shoes at all.”

“Eddie, I would’ve kicked them off the moment I got there anyway,” you tell him with a laugh. “Barefoot is fine.”

“Just checking. Want this to be an authentic impromptu prom for you.”

You giggle and Eddie reaches his hand out to you. You take it and he instantly pulls you in and holds you against his body. It would be a miracle if he couldn’t feel or hear your heart beating so fast it’s like someone is dribbling a basketball beneath your ribs. His right hand takes your left and he twines your fingers together. His other hand snakes around your waist until it settles warmly on your back. You place your other hand on his shoulder and smile up at him.

“This is already better than actual prom,” he says. “Good music. Perfect date.”

Red rises to your cheeks and you duck your head shyly. 

The pair of you sway to the beat of the song, bodies moving along with the rhythm. Eddie spins you and it makes you let out a giddy peal of laughter. He pulls you back into him and you wrap both arms around his neck. He places his hands firmly on your waist as you start to sway again. 

“Thank you,” you say.

“For what?”

“You brought all the best parts of prom to me. I didn’t have to suffer through the shitty parts. I’ve got my dress, my music, my favorite person. It’s perfect, Eddie.” 

“I’ll dance like this with you anytime,” he says. “All you have to do is ask.”

The way he’s looking at you stirs some butterflies up that have been dormant until this point. He’s never looked at you this way and you’re not sure what it is. You know every Eddie facial expression and what they mean, but this one is new. His face is soft, and his eyes are wide, as usual. The brown irises are twinkling and there’s the barest smile on the left side of his mouth. 

“What are you thinking about?” you ask. 

“You,” he says. No further explanation, which leads your mind to grasping for answers as usual. 

“What about me?”

“Just…you.”

“Okay, I take back what I said about being a scholar now. You’ve lost the ability to words,” you say and wrinkle up your nose playfully at him. He catches you by surprise, though, when he leans forward and presses a kiss to the very tip of your nose. 

The blush you had before was nothing to the one now gracing your features. Eddie chuckles when he sees it and leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. 

“Do you want to have another prom tomorrow?” he asks.

“What’s that entail? Dancing with you?”

“Yes.”

“Good music?”

“Of course.”

“Can I wear comfy clothes?”

“I’ll be wearing mine.”

“Hmm,” you hum, pretending to consider it. “Can we get food too?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I like the sound of that,” you say with a smirk.

“Is that a yes?” Eddie asks.

“Eddie, I’d have this kind of prom with you every single day.”

“Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.”

[silvermistcosmos]

▬▬  enhypen’s reaction to their s/o sleeping on another member

PAIRING. enhypen x reader

GENRE. fluff // reaction

WARNINGS. n/a

# Heeseung 

Heeseung smiled softly upon seeing your head rested against Sunghoon’s shoulder with your eyes closed. Not to say he wasn’t a bit upset that you were sleeping on one of his member’s shoulder instead of his, but that couldn’t have been helped since he had been working late. 

“Are you sure this is okay?” Sunghoon asked, slightly concerned about what was going through the eldest’s head, but Heeseung only shrugged. 

“I’m not going to lie and say that I don’t care. Of course I want to pull her into my arms, but she looks so sleepy. It’s pretty late right now. Let’s just wait until we get to the dorms to wake her up. I’ll pick her up later.” 

When everyone made it to the dorms, you woke up to the car door being shut and opened your eyes to find Heeseung smiling at you. 

“Did you sleep well, love?” He asked, stroking your hair. 

“Yeah...I didn’t mean to fall asleep though. I was going to wait for you to finish working, but it seems that I failed to do so.” 

“That’s alright.” He pinched your cheek softly, putting his hands under you and picking you up, “Let’s go to sleep together in the dorm, hm?” He said, having no intention of mentioning that you fell asleep on Sunghoon. 

# Jay

“Hey, Jungwon, what was the-” Jay interrupted himself from talking when he saw your figure on the couch, head laying across Jungwon’s lap, “What is she doing there?” He pointed towards you with a brow raised. 

Junwgon’s cheeks turned bright red upon Jay’s arrival, “I don’t know. First, she was sitting there on her phone, then her head plopped on my lap.” 

“She just plopped?” 

“I don’t think it was intentional. I tried shaking her off, but she had no response so I didn’t want to wake her.” 

Jay nodded, “She’s not dead, right?” He asked half playfully before walking over to you and checking your breathing before shaking his head and pinching your nose, waking you up immediately. 

You shot your head up, “Ouch!” You rubbed your nose with a small glare, “Jay, why’d you do that?!” 

“Apparently you just plopped on Jungwon’s lap. How can you just plop on someone without being dead when that someone isn’t your boyfriend?” 

“I was just tired...” You answered, “I didn’t even realize that I laid on Jungwon...sorry.” 

Jay smiled cheekily, “Just next time, find me so you can lay your head on me.” 

# Jake

Jake froze when he saw your head on Heeseung’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure yet if he should just ignore it and let you sleep or if he should give his hyung a lecture, or if he should just wake you up and give you a lecture or simply put your head on his shoulder instead. So many options were going through his head that he just stood there in a somewhat trance, debating in his head. 

Heeseung interrupted his thoughts, “Jake, don’t even think about waking her up. She was up excruciatingly late last night until we finished practice. She must be exhausted.” 

Jake nodded, agreeing with him, “But it’s so strange seeing you with her head on your shoulder instead of mine.”

“Are you jealous right now?” Heeseung teased as Jake took a spot next to you. 

“No!” He responded a bit louder than he intended to, making you shuffle, your eyes slowly opening. 

“Jake?” You asked, rubbing your eyes. 

“Great job.” Heeseung shook his head with a small smile. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I know you must be so tired.” 

You shrugged, turning to face him and wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your head on his chest to get comfortable, “You’re so comfortable.” 

Jake giggled to himself, stroking your hair, “I’m happy to hear that. Just go to sleep now.” He said, Heeseung knowing darn well he was happy that you went to him.

# Sunghoon 

Sunghoon was not having it. When he saw you and Niki on the bean bag, your head on his shoulder and his head on yours asleep, he instantly went to you both and crossed his arms. 

He scoffed, clapping his hands loudly, “Okay, it’s time to wake up, kids.” He announced and kept his laugh in when he saw your tired, confused face looking around the room. 

“Hyung, what was that for?” Niki groaned, rubbing his eyes. 

“What were you and my girlfriend doing sleeping on the bean bag together?”

“We were watching a drama and must’ve fallen asleep...” You replied, sighing. 

“Well that’s enough of that.” Sunghoon put his hand out and pulled you up gently into him, “Are you tired?” He asked softly this time, looking down at you. 

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his stomach, and pressing your cheek against his chest “Can we go cuddle and maybe take another nap?” 

He gave into you with a small smile, kissing the top of your head. 

“Ew, y’all are gross.” Niki whined, covering his face with the pillow. 

"Then don’t watch.” He shrugged, walking to the bedroom with you to take a nap.

And ever since then, Sunghoon made it his goal to always be there whenever you were tired so you wouldn’t sleep on another member. 

# Sunoo

You sat in between Sunoo and Jay in the car on the way back to the dorms from practice when you felt your head bobbing up and down from falling asleep and waking up. You didn’t notice when you felt your head tilting to the side and falling on top of a shoulder. 

Sunoo looked up from his phone and pouted when he saw your head land on Jay’s shoulder. Why would you sleep on Jay’s shoulder when he had such a comfortable shoulder to sleep on? 

He knew it wasn’t Jay’s fault, but feeling petty, he glared at Jay and crossed his arms, “Why is she sleeping on you?” 

“I...don’t know. I guess the way the car moved made her head land on my shoulder.” He answered logically slightly intimidated, but also very much amused by the way Sunoo was acting, “Why? Are you jealous or something?” 

“I mean, if the universe would just let her head land on my shoulder, it would be alright, but she landed on yours. The universe is against me!” He dramatically whined, banging his head against the headrest. 

“You are so dramatic, oh my God! Just put her head on your shoulder. I don’t really care.” 

Sunoo shrugged, “If you want me to.” He smiled, gently putting your head on his own shoulder, feeling proud of himself. 

Even though he wanted to tell you that you were sleeping on Jay’s shoulder, he knew that you would be embarrassed about it, so he kept it to himself. 

# Jungwon

You sat in between Jungwon and Sunoo on the couch at the dorms, blankets draped across you and all the members as you watched a drama on the tv with the lights off. A few episodes in and it was well passed midnight when you finally fell asleep. 

Jungwon bit his lip when he saw your head laying on Sunoo’s shoulder, who also jumped slightly when he felt your head falling on his shoulder. Paying no attention to the tv anymore, Jungwon just watched as you moved your head to get comfortable. 

“Um...” Sunoo started, “Y/n...” He shook his shoulder a little bit, which only made you squeeze your eyes tighter. 

“Wonnie, stop moving.” You whispered, still half asleep. 

“I’m not Jungwon. This is Sunoo.” He said softly and you jolted up your head, heat rushing up to your cheeks. 

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, Sunoo!” You said, moving your hair out of your eyes when all the members began to laugh at the situation, finding it hard to breathe with how hard they were laughing. 

You squirmed with embarrassment, hiding your face in Jungwon’ lap while the others continued. 

Jungwon patted your head and lifted his head up to the others, “Alright that’s enough. Pay attention to the tv now.” He said and the everyone immediately listened to their leader’s firm voice, sucking up their laughter and turning back to the tv. 

He stroked your hair with a smile. He was thankful for being the leader sometimes, “You can fall asleep now, It’s okay.” 

# Niki

Niki kept himself surprisingly composed when he walked into his room to find you on the gaming chair, in front of the computer with your head laying on Jake’s shoulder, who was sitting right next to you on the other gaming chair.  

Niki blinked once before taking a seat beside Jake and turning on the gaming computer and pulling out the controller. 

“It’s your fault by the way.” Jake spoke first, playing his own game, “You beat her yesterday so she spent all night trying to improve her skills on the game.

Niki chuckled, “That girl...” he started, smiling as he started his game, “How can she beat a champion of Mario kart?” 

“Well maybe you should let her win next time. She was so determined to beat you last night that she looks like a panda right now.” Jake laughed. 

“A cute one though.” Niki replied, winning the game and smiling, laying his controller down to take a glance at your cheek squished against Jake’s shoulder. 

He laughed, “She’s drooling on you by the way.” He lied, making Jake jump up, jolting your head up. 

“Hm?” You asked, eye bags under your eyes very visible as you looked at Niki. 

Niki giggled at you, pushing your forehead with his finger, “Why would you stay up all night? You look like you haven’t slept in a week.” 

“I’ll beat you!” You rose up from your chair, “Just you wait, Nishimura Riki.” 

“Okay okay...” He started, pulling your head to his chest, “but first, how about we go take a nap together then I can teach you all of my strategies.”

taglist: @love-4-keum @flo-i @deafeningballoonnacho @luveuly @tyunni​ @sulkygyu​ 

if you want to get tagged when I post new writing pieces, just send me an ask and I’ll add you to my taglist

[ventique18]

~ Silver and his sleeping cutie ~

Sebek: "It's true that I have more experience in tsumsitting compared to you, so you could even say I'm your senpai in that regard."

Not Sebek gloating in reveling in Silver "begging" him for tsumsitting advice 😭 He's REALLY emphasizing that he's Silver's "SENPAI" this time I'M HOLLERING. THE TABLES HAVE TURNED, SILVER!

Sebek: "However, this tsum appears to be just as sleepy as you."

"OY! WAKE UP!!"

I THOUGHT HE'D HIT IT OMG HAHAHA

Siltsum doesn't budge an inch even with a Sebek boombox directly in its ear though. Silver says that it's a shame for the tsum to keep on sleeping because he wanted to show it around, so he finds Lilia for any ideas on how to wake up his lil bean.

AND LILIA SUGGESTS BLASTING IT WITH ELECTRIC GUITAR ON MAX AMP

Lilia: "If I riff this amped up electric guitar, I'm perfectly sure it'll perk the tsum right back up! Probably."

Kalim almost went deaf from the screech BUT THE TSUM REMAINS A SLEEPING CUTIE

Cater: "Even Silver fell asleep?! WHAT IS HAPPENING?!"

Silver wakes up in a bit, while groggily asking: "Can you help me wake this tsum."

BRO FELL ASLEEP WHILE ASKING THEM TO WAKE IT EARLIER AND DOESN'T REMEMBER 😭😭😭😭😭

So Silver just gave up, continued lugging it around, and brought it to the stables so he could tend to the horses.

[diremoone]

sweet dedication | g. satoru

a year after his fight with sukuna, satoru finally gets to enjoy his birthday in peace, with no one but his beloved wife.

w — fluff, post-canon, lots of food :3, i incorporated a doggo sue me, vv short but hopefully sweet 🥰

Happy Birthday, My Beloved Satoru ❤️❤️

[ line divider credit to @/saradika ]

The last thing Satoru expected to smell coming through the front door of his home was a mixture of cinnamon and cherries. He shrugged off the jacket from his shoulders and curiously stepped further into his home. Upon seeing the kitchen table and every counter, his eyes went wide and mouth fell open.

On the kitchen table was at least four boxes of pizza, chicken wings, fried chicken, and brisket. Towards the end of the table farther fell the front door were sides, like green bean casserole and corn. His mouth began to water, his inner food junkie rearing it’s hungry head.

Across the counters and clearly in the oven were desserts, desserts, and more desserts — apple and cherry pie, cheesecake, fruit kebabs, crepes, mochi, brownies, kikufuku from Sendai. Gosh, what was the occasion?

And then the man sees above the hallway entrance that leads to the other rooms: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Satoru gapes.

Was it really December 7th?

He checks his phone and his brows raise in surprise. How in the world did he forget?

But you didn’t. You would’ve been the only one available to have made such a feast for him (even if it was mostly sweets), since everyone else was out on missions, still trying to tidy up Japan after the Culling Games’ toll.

He feels his heart swell with love and happiness, happy that you’ve remembered a date that he’s thrown to the side for so many years. He’s happy that you’ve done so much here for him, a genuine showcase of how much you really loved him and knew him by cooking all of his favorites. This must’ve taken you hours and hours to do; this being a clear proclamation of how much you’ve dedicated yourself to him and to knowing him.

“Babe?” he calls out to open air. No response. He’s smart by checking the kitchen first; you’d never leave cooking food unattended.

Satoru’s mouth quirks up into a sweet smile at the sight of passed out, sitting on the kitchen floor with your inseparable corgi Maple snoozing away right next to you. Although he squints at the sight of your neck lolled to the side in the corner of the cabinets. That didn’t look comfortable at all.

He’s not sure if he should take you to bed or wake you up right now. After a moment, he decides the former. But as soon as you’re scooped up and secured against his broad chest, your eyes flutter open. Maple wakes up too, barking and wiggling her butt, happy to see her dad.

“Oh, my god. Satoru!”

He winks. “The one and only baby.”

Your brain has always been fast about remembering all of the events prior to any sort of sleep or nap you’ve had. This time was no different, and he chuckles when you begin to groan and complain about your surprise being ruined.

“God, I can’t believe I fell asleep! How does one even sleep on the kitchen floor. My ass hurts, Jesus,” you complain. You burrow your head into the crook of his neck in embarrassment as he carries you to the couch and sits down with you on his lap. Maple bounds up behind him and miraculously uses her little legs to hop up on the couch. Satoru chuckles and takes a moment to briefly give her belly rubs.

“Thank you for trying to make this day special for me,” your ‘Toru says. It’s sweet, the tone of his voice, filled with love and adoration. “Don’t feel bad. That looks like a lot of cooking you did, so it’s only natural you’d fall asleep at some point. So don’t beat yourself up over it, okay?”

You grumble but nod anyway. It was true. You’d been awake ever since he’d left earlier this morning, putting the pedal to the floor on your attempt to swamp the love of your life with all of his favorite foods made by hand.

“I love you, Satoru,” you mumble, still tired and sleepy from overextending yourself.

“I love you, too, baby.” His lips press a long kiss to the side of your temple. He pulls away to gaze down into your eyes, chuckles escaping him again at seeing the sleepy haze in them. “Thank you for trying to make my special day special.”

“But I still didn’t get to surprise you,” you complain.

“I wasn’t expecting it when I came home, especially now with everything going on. I think that’s a big enough surprise for me,” he argues. “So come on, cheer up! We have some delicious delicious food to eat made by my sweet, adorable, wonderful wifey-poo! Except the pizza of course!”

You deadpan. “Call me that again and I’ll smash the strawberry shortcake I made as your birthday cake in that expensive jacket you bought last week.”

Satoru gasps dramatically in horror.

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

“Not if I eat it first!”

taglist:

@vagabond-umlaut @heresan @4sat0ruu and @/all my satoru lovers also i shouldn’t have taken that nap otherwise this taglist would be longer lmaoo

let’s raise a glass to this man who deserves the entire fucking world