.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Holding Hands .𖥔 ݁ ˖

it’s clear the second virgin! Childe’s cock slips past your folds, that he’d get addicted to the feeling of your cunt. he’s so cocky, so well aware of his abilities, but fucking was beyond his area of knowledge, the red head knew you’d feel absolutely amazing, so warm and tight, trembling slightly at the mere thought while undressing between eager messy kisses.

“o-oh, baby, you feel so good” he stutters, bottoming out with a shaky exhalation from both the sucking of your walls around his throbbing cock and how absolutely beautiful you look underneath him, “i... can’t stop!”

Childe fucks himself into overstimulation, marking your insides with an immense amount of precum that eases the slide of his cock in and out your sobbing pussy, feet firmly planted on each side of your hips to reach as deep as possible, it aches, burns but he can’t and won’t stop, there’s tears brimming in his blue eyes, threatening to spill with each wet smack of his balls against your ass. it's so messy how much cum spills from your hole, drenching the sheets underneath, adding lubrication to Childe’s length that doesn’t show a sign of stopping soon.

and you’ll get addicted to him, to his cock, to his desperate kisses that break from whimpers unable to contain, to how moldeable he turns, all pussydrunk and needy to continue fucking you through at least a couple of your orgasms.

⛇₊˚ʚ₊˚✧ SANTA TELL ME IF HE REALLY CARES PT. 1 ft. dazai, chuuya, ranpo, fyodor, nikolai, sigma

XMAS SERIES: 1 PARTRIDGE IN A PEAR TREE - bsd scs

the pm is hosting a christmas party for yokohama! everyone is encouraged to bring a gift for the people they love…so what do the bsd men get you?

info. fem!reader. sm fluff. profanities from chuuya ofc LOL, them trying to outdo each other for you. pm hq has a rooftop floor here. implied reader is in the ada.

wc. 3.1k

You walked inside the lavish lobby of the port mafia headquarters to be greeted by DAZAI, who immediately embraced you in his arms.

“Bella! You made it!” he exclaimed, pulling you in. You could feel the heat of his body warming you up, relieving you of the chilly weather outside.

“Of course, Osamu,” you giggled. “Wouldn’t want to miss something super special as this.”

Still trapping you in his hug, he led you down the hallway, one hand moving to playfully pat your head. Security guards parted to let the two of you through, entering the room where everyone was.

“So many people!” you exclaimed when you entered the headquarters’ formal dining hall decorated in Christmas festivities. Everyone was either chatting about or gathering by a table to get sweet desserts or hot chocolate.

“Want some hot chocolate to warm up, angel?” Dazai asked, looking towards the line.

“No thanks,” you replied. “You’ve warmed my heart up already.”

He gave you a smug smile in response, but you didn’t miss the light pink that also flushed his cheeks.

“Come over here.”

You followed Dazai as he made his way to a different table filled with wrapped presents and bags alike.

Dazai took one of them—the gift bag in your favorite color and handed it to you.

“For the gift exchange,” he smiled. “Merry Christmas, bella. I hope you like it.”

Your eyes lit up in joy, grateful and excited to see what he had gotten you. “Thank you!”

The first thing you pulled out of the bag was a custom heart pendant in your preferred metal—Dazai knew whether you liked silver or gold better. When you unclasped the locket, you saw matching pictures of you and Dazai inside, both bundled up in the snow. It was a good memory to look back at.

“This is so cute, Osamu.” You closed the locket and let the brunette place the jewelry around your neck.

“It looks even better on you.”

The second thing inside the bag was a box. Pulling it out, you saw that it was a Lego flower set.

“As much as you love flowers, they don’t last forever. However, these do!” You grinned widely at the thought and matching gift—Dazai always easily recalled your favorite things.

“We can build them together, too,” he continued, and you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I love them. You’re amazing at getting gifts.”

“I wouldn’t expect that at all.” Your attention was brought to the ginger-haired who had his arms crossed beside the both of you, a cheeky grin on his face. CHUUYA had a mug of eggnog in his hand, though you knew for sure he’d rather have a glass of red wine reserved for the evening party instead.

“Chuuya!”

“What’s up, doll?” he smiled, a different, sweeter tone entirely, as he strode towards you.

“What do you mean by that?” Dazai asked, referring to Chuuya’s earlier comment.

“Thought your taste in gifts would be shitty, just like you,” he chuckled as you greeted him with a hug.

“Hey, that’s a bit rude,” you whispered.

“Oh really?” Dazai responded with his own sarcastic laugh. “I’m not sure you could do any better.”

“You really underestimate me! Come with me, baby…we’re going to prove to the-thing-that-comes-with-the-discounted-bandages who really knows what to get a lady for Christmas!”

Dazai stood, jaw dropped, dramatically offended as Chuuya pulled you away.

You two walked to the other side of the room, where there were even more gifts under one of the many Christmas trees in the hall.

“Bastard,” Chuuya sulked under a scowl, picking up a box wrapped in crimson red, his statement color.

You chuckled in amusement. He riled up so easily, over something so trivial. “Don’t worry about him, Chuu. I already know I’m going to like what you got.”

“Ya better,” he replied, but cheered up from your words. “Are you able to hold it?”

He handed you the box, hovering his arms below for support in case you dropped it. Though it was a larger package, it was still a bit heavier than you expected.

“Yeah, I got it.” You then raised an eyebrow. What could be inside this gift?

You set it down on the nearest table, undoing the pretty bow of ribbon and wrapping paper that kept the mystery intact.

Inside, you were received with a record player.

“Oh, wow!”

You loved music, and you’d always wanted to start collecting vinyls as it looked cool, but everyone knew it was an expensive hobby.

Not only had Chuuya gotten that—a very nice one, too—he also got the records of your top ten favorite albums.

You looked through the covers, smiling with each new one you saw.

Chuuya explained a few things—how he was setting you up for good because he made sure you got a turntable player instead of a suitcase one, how you should replace the black slip mat with the white one he bought instead so your vinyls look prettier, how to not damage the records…you could hardly pay attention to him though because you were overjoyed at how thoughtful he was for that.

“You seem passionate. Do you collect them too?” you asked.

“No, I just wanted to research to find something good enough for you.”

You could feel your heart melt. He had really spent time picking this out after you’d only mentioned you finding record players vintage and cool twice, and you’d never even pointed out you’d want it as a gift.

“Thank you, Chuuya,” you said, leaning towards him, burying your face in his neck. “I love it…especially how you recall my favorite albums, too.”

“Of course doll,” he replied, running his hands through your hair. “Merry Christmas.”

You could’ve stayed like that, but your little moment with the port mafia executive was ruined when Chuuya glanced over at one of the snack tables to find all the food had just disappeared.

“Now what the fuck?”

You followed, looking at what he was looking at. Then, you realized the man standing by the table with a piece of cake—the last piece of cake.

RANPO caught your gaze and jumped, hyper from all the sugar he consumed. “There you are!” He ran towards you and shoved you on the ground, away from Chuuya.

“Hey man, what the hell is wrong with you?!” he shouted in annoyance.

Ranpo acknowledged the ginger-haired only then, looking up from where he had you suffocating in his arms. “Huh? Oh, sorry, didn’t see ya there.”

Chuuya grew even more infuriated at the provoke.

“You tryna pick a fight?”

“You still want to after knowing how last time turned out?”

Ranpo was referring to their last encounter, where Chuuya had embarrassingly lost against him from a single blow. But you didn’t need to know that.

So, Chuuya used all his willpower to keep silent under an outraged glare as he watched Ranpo drag you away to make sure he didn’t bring up any details about it.

“I got you a gift too!” Ranpo exclaimed as you walked back towards where the other agency members were hanging out. “Wanna guess what it is?”

“Hm…some sort of treat, that’s for sure,” you replied.

“Partly correct!” he replied. “That’s not all that I got you though.”

“Oh? How generous!”

“No!” his response was stern. “A princess like you deserves more…as the world’s greatest detective, noone would know that better than me.”

You smiled. “You’re right, Ranpo.”

With that, he handed you one of the cutest gift baskets you’ve seen. The actual basket was snowman-themed, and inside was everything you wanted that could fit in it—that pajama set you had in your online shopping cart, the new skincare products you’ve wanted to try, your favorite candle—you hadn’t even ever mentioned it to him before. And, of course, a lot of chocolate. Of course, Ranpo would also be the best gift-buyer, using his knowledge to his advantage.

The one thing that really stood out to you, though, was a jar of Hershey kisses, with a note on it that said:

KISSES WHEN I’M NOT AROUND.

It even had a chibi-fied face of the cute brunette on it.

“This is my favorite thing in this gift,” you said.

“Of course, because I know you always miss me when I’m not there to kiss,” Ranpo confidently stated. “Which is why I came up with a solution! They’ll never be as sweet as me, but it works.”

You laughed in delight. It was a very creative idea. “This is amazing; thank you, Ranpo!”

Never knowing how to respond to thankfulness directly, he answered it with something else. “Hey, there’s something on your nose.”

“Really?” You moved a hand to feel what was on there, but Ranpo grabbed your wrist to prevent you. Instead, he bopped your nose with his lips.

“There was frosting,” he said, probably from when he excitedly greeted you earlier.

“You enjoyed those desserts, huh?” you asked, glancing at the depleted table once again.

“Yup! It was just lying there, and noone said anything about how much you could take, so…!” He paused, trying to remember something.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

…

You chatted with agency and port mafia members alike a while after. Everyone was having a good time, even when Chuuya started bickering with Dazai and challenged him to a duel.

“Shithead!

“Mackerel!”

“How about you talk once you grow another two inches?”

As everyone was being entertained by Chuuya breaking an entire wall by throwing Dazai through it, your eyes were distracted by an elaborate bouquet of roses and baby breaths that you hadn’t noticed before.

Curious because it wasn’t by any other gifts, you left the crowd to inspect it.

You were surprised when you picked the arrangement up and saw that it was addressed to your name on a note. However, there was no name to say who it was from.

You looked around to see if anyone was nearby that could’ve placed the flowers there. But everyone else was watching the fight.

You flipped the note over, seeing a sketch of an elevator and a four-number code on the back.

An elevator?

You scanned the hall once again. The only elevator there was the one at the corner, restricted to the port mafia. The guests weren’t allowed to use it, and a security pad was guarding it.

You hesitated but then decided to approach the door. If someone gave you the code they wanted and were permitting you to use it, right?

Once again, no one protested because they were all distracted watching Chuuya on the ceiling, making sure Dazai couldn’t touch him. You pressed the four numbers into the pinpad and were congratulated with a correct ding! sound and the elevator sliding open.

You stepped inside and realized there was only one button—to go up. You pressed it, and the doors closed, moving you up.

Luxurious as always, the elevator had a glass window, the entire city of Yokohama coming into view as you went higher. A few seconds in, you realized that the elevator wasn’t going to stop until you reached the top.

You still weren’t sure who had mysteriously invited you to meet them. You hoped it wasn’t the boss—the doctor in charge creeped you out, if you were being honest. But you figured it couldn’t be him because he was also downstairs, chilling with the agency’s president.

Your heartbeat raced as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, adrenaline surging in anticipation of the surprise, coupling with the chilly breeze outside. You had reached the rooftop.

“You’re so easy to tempt; those flowers drew you in faster than a blind mouse to a piece of cheese laid in a trap.”

You smiled as you heard the foreign accent of the person near the edge riddle you while admiring the entire city below. “Hi, Fedya.”

FYODOR turned around, violet eyes meeting yours.

“I should’ve known.” Of course, the enigma was him—conundra was the Russian’s signature.

“How in the world did you even get here?” you asked, though you already knew the answer. He always had his ways to infiltrate anywhere—through deception, through hacking, anything goes.

“I invited ourselves,” he smirked, and only then did you notice his two subordinates on the other side, one in fear as the other tried to trip him over the ledge. “Didn’t want to miss out on the gift-giving either.”

Fyodor took out a jewelry box. “I hardly get to see you. So I thought to get you something that you could wear everyday.

“And this one is special, to remind you of my presence even more.” He opened it, revealing a bracelet, and like Dazai, he also knew what color jewelry suited you best. It was nothing too showy—it was simple, but it was classy, timeless, just like him.

And you noticed what made it special. There was no clasp. It was made to be welded on the person’s wrist—a forever bracelet.

“Choose wisely,” Fyodor said as you looked in awe. “Which wrist, milaya?”

You quickly contemplated and held out one of your wrists towards him as he took out tweezers and a small laser. You watched as he delicately fastened the bracelet around your arm, making sure it sat on your wrist perfectly.

“Finished, fine with it?” he asked when he was done, and you lifted your hand toward the horizon.

“It’s perfect, thank you,” you responded candidly. Then, Fyodor lifted up his own sleeve under his coat, revealing a matching one. You were almost stunned, because you didn’t think he would be the type to wear anything other than a necklace.

“Merry Christmas, dorogaya,” he softly said, pressing you against his chest in a hug.

“WAIT, WAIT! Dove, there’s still me! Don’t seal away your heart just yet!”

“Huh?” You both turned towards NIKOLAI, who kindly but quickly moved Fyodor away from you.

The next thing you knew, there were foil snowman and reindeer balloons in your hand, white confetti popped over you, acting as snow, and the jester standing in front of you presenting a large gift.

“To be honest, I’m scared,” you admitted, knowing his chaotic, playful nature.

“Why?” he giggled. “Think I’m going to scare ya, baby? You can take my word, there’s no jumpscares in this one.”

“You better not be lying,” you said and removed the lid of the black box that reminded you of a magician’s top hat.

And he was being truthful because you were greeted with the exact opposite of remarkable. He had gifted you plain, white socks.

“Wow, Kolya. I never even knew you were capable of being mundane.”

He laughed once again as he just set the box in front of you, not saying anything more as you stared at him in confusion.

You took the socks out. Surely, there was a catch. He was acting too suspicious. And the entire gift was odd. You found nothing tampered with on the socks, though. And there was nothing else in the box. So why was it so big? And why did it look deeper than where the bottom stopped?

You nervously looked at Nikolai before sticking both hands in. You felt your way around the level until you realized the entire package floor felt like paper machete, something used in piñatas and things like that.

By instinct, you lifted a fist and punched through the box. You immediately punctured through the false bottom, uncovering your true gift.

He celebrated. “Smart girl!”

There was an assortment of plushies—many of them. You always asked Nikolai to help you get some whenever you found claw machines at amusement parks, so he knew you loved stuffed animals.

Then, there was a large, fluffy throw blanket, perfect for winter.

“I got that because I know you’re probably so cold when I’m not hugging you.” True. Nikolai encapsulated you like a blanket whenever he came over.

“The thought of having this didn’t even cross my mind,” you said. “Well, that goes for everything you do,” you chuckled.

“That was really creative; I love it, thank you!”

Nikolai popped more confetti, this time in pink hearts. “She loves it! Happy, happy Christmas!”

He swung you off the ground, spinning you with ease until your own head started spinning the opposite way.

“Gogol! I think she’s dizzy!”

The two-tone-haired casino owner had a concerned look on his face, and you couldn’t tell if it was because your eyes were unfocusing or because Nikolai was throwing you around so easily. Strong guy.

Nikolai stopped, realizing he had gotten too excited. “Sorry, dove! Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah,” you responded, unable to keep your balance as you tripped over yourself. You landed on SIGMA’s torso, and he helped guide you to stand up properly again.

“Thanks, Sigma,” you replied. “How are you?”

“Good, now that I get to see you again.” He lightly blushed, breaking eye contact as you smiled. “I’m glad to see you too.”

“I got you something as well,” he replied, showing his own present. “I’m not sure what the people downstairs got you, and mine isn’t as fancy as Dostoevsky’s nor as extraordinary as Gogol’s, but I hope you like it.”

You felt warm, even in the icy weather. “Awh, just hearing that you got something for me is more than enough,” you replied. “I am so grateful no matter what.”

You took the present and opened it, first greeted by a new set of poker cards. However, this one was different because when you sifted through them, you realized it was the Decay of Angel’s custom set. You had been wowed by Nikolai’s Joker and Fyodor’s Jack when you first saw them, always using the set when you played a game with others.

But there was also a new addition to this stack. You were on it, taking your place as the queen.

“What? Sigma, this is so cool!”

There was one more thing inside. Your favorite lipstick in your favorite shade.

Sigma loved the color and even more how it looked on you. He loved how his cheeks would stain whenever you kissed him there—the pigmented contrast to his paler skin. You hardly needed restocking as you loved the lipstick yourself, but it was always good to have another extra.

“Merry Christmas,” Sigma said as you opened the container and swatched it on your face. You looked as beautiful as ever.

“Merry Christmas, Sigma,” you responded, kissing his forehead. Then, you pulled a cookie wrapped in a napkin from inside your coat and placed it in his mouth.

“Saved it for you,” you giggled. “There’s a lot downstairs. Maybe they’ll let you guys in if I say I invited you. Well, at least you.”

i heard if u rb, u will receive x2 gifts this xmas from ur favs! reblogs are appreciated; they are your christmas gift to me! <3

dec 2023 mlist | part two

tags : @kissesmellow21

© AUREATCHI 2023. no reposts or translations. do not steal.

stuff me full ! — o. dazai

synopsis: porn w/o a plot bro …

cw: fem reader, clit rubbing (?), fingering, begging, piv, rough pace, crying, biting / marking (hickies), praise, mention of good girl idk man, lmk if i missed anything

”’samu, ‘s too much !” you gasped out, your panties soaked as dazai’s digits slowly circled over it, his hands cold. you had a hand covering your mouth, not wanting to disturb the neighbors with the thin walls that separated everyone. dazai’s eyes were sharp, his gaze fixated on you and the way you flinch and shudder with every slight move he makes.

“what’s wrong bella ? can’t handle me anymore ? want me to stop ?” with the two fingers he had, he took one away, making you teary eyed as he kisses your jaw ever so lightly.

“no ..! please, osamu, please !” you hiccuped out, bucking your hips slightly and whimpering, toes curled as dazai laughs at the sight. his hands are soaked and your panties are wet with your slick. your boyfriend takes his hand away from your aching pussy and hooks his fingers on your underwear straps, teasing you even farther.

“c’mon, love, tell me what you want, or else i’ll never know ~”

“you … you’re cock, please ..” face flustered red, you mumbled out the words, feeling the fabric on your waist being slipped off without another word. your wet cunt was exposed to the eyes of a demon, ever so desperate for your lover to take you whole. dazai rubs his fingers on your clit a few more times before slipping them in into your sloppy wet hole, making you arch your back as his fingers curl inside of you.

“darl’, you looks so good, but we can’t go without a little teasing, right ? look at how wet you are, and i didn’t even do anything.” lips practically drooling, dazai places hungry kisses on your lips, your moans being muffled out onto his mouth. feeling his finger slip away a minute or so later, you heard the shuffling noise of clothes, presumably dazai’s pants. lining himself up, dazai ravels at the sight of your helpless body, begging to be used by him.

“god, you’re adorable ..!” with that, he shoves his whole length into you, making you yelp and moan out, back arched and arms traveling up to osamus hair. with your tits bouncing at the fast pace he has set, you roll your eyes to the back of your head, making you unable to think or process anything, white stars appearing in your vision.

“a- ahh, look at them bounce, ‘nd all just f’me ..” dazai leans down to give the middle of your chest a kiss, leaving small marks that makes you grip onto his hair tighter. his light touch sent shivers up your spine as he licks the bud of your nipple ever so gently, his hands all over you with his duck twitching inside.

“‘samu !! too fast, gahh ~ !!” going in and out of your cunt, dazai moans into your ear, knowing damn well that would turn you on in more ways. with his hands slowly crawling down towards your hips, he kisses you harder, both of your breathing becoming ragged and heavy. your walls tighten even more around his dick as you moan into his lips, bucking your hips as you feel your wetness drip down from your cunt and to the bed, already feeling so full with him inside you, all deep and cozy. his fingers okay with the bud of your clit again, making your toes curl and back arch even more off the bed, soaking his fingers even more than before.

“‘m so close, ya’know that ? you feel so good, your pussy feels sooo gooood around me. such a good girl, aren’t ‘cha— hahh ..~”

hips becoming sloppy, indicating he really was close. leaning down towards your ear, he ignores your pants and desperate moans, tucking hair strands behind your ear before moaning into them, his voice shaky and out of breath.

“please, let me finish inside … ‘m gonna stuff you full — shiiit ~~!“

you beg for him to stuff you with his cum, your body feeling close to its final limit. with a few more rough, unforgiving thrusts, dazai’s moans into your ear, a moan you would only hear in porn videos, as he fills you up with his hot seed, his thrusts stopped and dick inside of you. you moan and squirt all over his lower abdomen, the juices getting mixed with his as dazai licks his lips, looking down at your cum stuffed cunt. he moves his hips again, not giving you time for a breather and moving relentlessly again, making you moan out ever so loudly as he stuffs his cum back into your desperate hole.

“not begging me to stop this time ? fuckk, you feel sooo goood ~~!! wanna make sure none of my cum drips out, ‘kay ?”

✮⋆˙ WRONG PLACE AT THE RIGHT TIME — DAZAI OSAMUִ ࣪𖤐

✮⋆˙ CW(s): f! reader, mutual pining, academic rivals, college love, fluff sprinkled with angst

✮⋆˙ SYNOPSIS: in which you get caught in a twist of fate and unwittingly become drawn to the new transfer student

✮⋆˙ NOW PLAYING: "slut!" and "say don't go" by taylor swift !

as you walk into college, the familiar routine of classes played out in your mind. wake up early, get dressed in uniform, and head to class. however, little did you know, today would be anything but ordinary.

you greet a couple of close friends and other peers in the classroom before you settle into your seat and put down your school bag, ready to start the same old day when the professor announced a new transfer student.

"before we start today's lecture, i was asked to inform the class that you will be having a new classmate. class, this is mister dazai osamu."

his entrance was as enigmatic as his name, capturing the attention of everyone in the room.

dazai osamu was an enigmatic figure with a captivating presence. his dark brown hair fell effortlessly, framing a face that seemed to hold a myriad of untold stories. his sharp, observant eyes carried a hint of mystery, leaving others curious about the thoughts hidden behind them.

"it's nice to meet you all," he greets everyone, a wave of intrigue swept through the class. you couldn't help but wonder what stories hid behind those piercing brown sugar eyes of his.

as the professor scanned the room for an empty seat for dazai osamu, your eyes unexpectedly met. time seemed to pause for a moment, and then, with a faint smile, your professor declares, "mr. osamu, you can take the seat next to [name]."

a ripple of surprise swept through the room, including yourself. you couldn't help but feel a mixture of curiosity and anticipation as dazai gracefully made his way to the vacant seat besides you.

the proximity seemed almost serendipitous, and you couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter would be more than just a chance seating arrangement.

as he settles into the chair, dazai turns to you with that mysterious smile, and for a moment, your eyes locked in a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected connection that fate had orchestrated.

as the professor began the lecture, fazai leaned in subtly and spoke with a soft, yet distinct, voice, "quite the interesting twist of fate, don't you think?" his words carried a hint of amusement, as if he had anticipated the peculiar course of events. how strange.

surprised but intrigued, you say, "yeah, it seems that way. is fate a favorite topic of yours?"

dazai chuckles softly, "oh, i have a variety of favorites, but fate has a way of weaving the most captivating narratives, don't you agree?"

the lecture continued on, and dazai seamlessly blended insightful comments with a touch of humor, creating a dynamic dialogue that made the class more engaging than ever.

throughout the lecture, dazai's unconventional insights and witty remarks kept everyone on the edge of their seats. the class that started as mundane transformed into a captivating experience.

it's like dazai's presence added an unexpected twist to the ordinary routine, turning a typical morning into an adventure and anticipation.

after the lecture, dazai continued to follow the unpredictable rhythm he had set. as you head towards the cafeteria for a break, you felt a presence beside you. he was walking casually, matching his pace with yours

"so, [name], any particular reason you're heading this way? or is it purely just the magnetic pull of cafeteria food?" he teases, his eyes dancing with playful curiosity.

"shouldn't i be asking you that, mister osamu?" you say back in the same joking manner, mimicking the way your professor addressed him earlier.

dazai's eyes widen for a moment, it was as if he had never been addressed by his first name before but he liked it, the sound of his very name, osamu, rolling off your tongue.

"osamu's fine! you make it sound like i'm one of the professors here," he complains with a childish whine and pout, making you giggle.

his company was unexpectedly pleasant, and you soon found yourselves sharing stories and laughter during breaks. dazai's anecdotes were laced with a peculiar blend of humor and melancholy, leaving you both amused and contemplative.

as days passed, dazai's presence became a constant in you college routine. he would join you during breaks, effortlessly turning mundane moments into memorable experiences.

your conversations ranged from the profound to the absurd, each interaction leaving you with a sense of wonder about the person who had entered your life so unexpectedly.

and your connection with him deepened as you and dazai spent more time together. the bond you shared extended beyond casual conversations, transcending into a camaraderie that enriched both your lives. however, the friendly banter and shared laughter took an unexpected turn as your academic interests collided.

it started innocently enough—a friendly debate over a class assignment, a challenge to outperform each other on a quiz.

your academic rivalry took with each other on new dimensions as assignments and exams continued to challenge you two. each classroom discussion transformed into a subtle contest of wits, with you and dazai vying for the professor's attention and striving to outshine each other.

as the semester progressed, your academic rivalry intensified, fueled by a mutual desire for excellence. despite the competition, there was an unspoken understanding that your friendship remained unscathed.

in the library, your tables were side by side, each silently pushing the other to achieve more. the rivalry, however, was tempered by moments of shared study sessions. you became each other's sounding boards, helping one another navigate the complexities of assignments and exams.

in the quiet hush of the library, you and dazai couldn't resist the urge to compare our recent test scores, and silently, you exchanged papers, your eyes scanning the numbers with mock seriousness.

a small triumphant grin crept across dazai's face, and you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his impressive result.

"i scored 15 out of 15 on our quiz today," dazai chuckles with a smug look dancing on his face as he folds his arms across his chest.

"whatever, 'samu," you scoff at him, rolling your eyes with a huff of breath from your lips, "at least i scored higher in the exam last shifting."

"excuse me, we're in the present shifting!" dazai let out a dramatic gasp, pretending to take offense as he places a hand to his chest.

"yeah? well exams are the bigger deal, not those damn quizzes."

"oh, i see how it is miss [surname]. quizzes only matter when you score higher than me. tsk."

your whispers grew unintentionally louder as the excitement of your competition escalated, and suddenly, a stern "shhh!" cut through the air, courtesy of the librarian, who shot you and dazai an exasperated look.

you and dazai briefly exchanged guilty glances, suppressing your laughter.

unable to contain yourselves, you stifled giggles behind your hands, shoulders shaking with silent mirth. the library's stern atmosphere clashed with your subdued laughter, creating a moment of shared amusement that only deepened the camaraderie between you two.

as you and dazai returned to your studies, there lingered a shared understanding that even in the realm of academics, laughter and friendship could find your place amidst the quiet seriousness of the library.

"i'll beat you next time, that's for sure," you narrow your eyes at him, purposely nudging his shoulder to interrupt him.

"i'd like to see you try, belladonna," dazai bites back, nudging your shoulder back.

the librarian takes notice of this and scolds you both once again in a stern yet hushed tone, "hush, you two! this is a library!"

"ma'am, he started it," you exclaim, throwing dazai under the bus as you motion over him with your thumb.

"no, she started it!" dazai whines and tries to argue about it, but the two of us only received another hushed scolding from the librarian.

she states, folding her arms, "i don't care which one of you started it. either you two to be quiet, or both of you will have to study somewhere else."

you and dazai gulp in unison, "sorry, ma'am."

as your friendship evolved, you couldn't help but be intrigued by the mystery that surrounded dazai osamu. his intelligence was undeniable, yet there were moments when you sensed a deliberate evasion whenever his past as a transfer student was brought up.

one day, unable to contain your curiosity while you two were eating lunch together, you venture, "osamu, there's something about your background you're not sharing, isn't there?"

dazai blinks at you, pausing from chewing on the crab stick he was having, "hmm? whatever do you mean by that, belladonna?"

you blink back and tilt your head to the side, "well, you're more than just a brilliant mind; there's a mystery to you."

dazai, ever the master of diversion, flashed a fleeting smile and smoothly changed the subject, "ah, my dearest, mysteries are the spice of life, don't you think? let's just focus on the present moment instead. what do you think of the upcoming project our professor gave us?"

it was a skillful evasion that left you both frustrated and fascinated. the more you probed, the more elusive dazai became about his past. it added another layer of complexity to your friendship, leaving you torn between the desire to unravel his enigma and the respect for his privacy.

as the two of you delved into the upcoming project, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to dazai osamu than met the eye, and the journey to uncover the truth had only just begun.

and it did.

curiosity got the better of you like a cat as you made your way home, and spot him in a secluded area of the school, engaged in a conversation with men clad in black suits and dark shades. the scene was surreal, and you imagination raced with possibilities.

hiding behind a corner, you strained to catch snippets of their conversation. the atmosphere was tense, and dazai's usually carefree demeanor had transformed into one of calculated seriousness. the men in black seemed to be discussing something of significance, their words exchanged in low tones that heightened the air of secrecy.

caught between the intrigue and a sense of trepidation, you couldn't help but question the true nature of dazai's connections. the transfer student, who had brought laughter and mystery into your life, now appeared to have a hidden side, one entangled with individuals whose motives were shrouded in secrecy.

as you observed from a distance, a multitude of questions swirled in your mind, especially when some business of sort was brought up that would take place in midnight and that dazai was supposed take part in it.

"what the hell?" you murmur softly to yourself as you continue to eavesdrop on them.

you shake your head and decide to not overthink about it anymore, and leave for the best as soon as dazai and those men left.

however, on your way back home, the men in black suits approached you with a calculated precision, their dark shades concealing their expressions.

you heart quickened as they surrounded you, creating an atmosphere of quiet tension as one of them spoke with a measured tone, "who are you?"

caught off guard, you stammer, "i—i was just passing by. i didn't mean to..." you trail off.

the other interrupted, "we're aware you've been curious, but it's in your best interest to refrain from prying into matters that don't concern you, young lady."

"i'm terribly sorry. i won't tell anyone. i promise!" you sputter out, unable to look at them straight in the eye.

their stern warning left you uneasy, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you had stumbled upon a world beyond your comprehension.

fear gripped you as you overheard the men in black suits discussing you presence. their hushed voices debated whether to dispose of you for stumbling upon a secret you were never meant to uncover. you felt like an intruder in a world that was far more dangerous and complex than you had ever imagined.

suddenly, the men exchanged worried glances with one another as they talked in hushed tones, but you couldn't help but hear some parts of their conversation.

"you don’t understand, he won't take kindly to any interference with [name]." the first one says.

another responds in a gulp, "yeah, we've got orders to keep on an eye tsushima shuji, but he made it clear himself that no harm should come to her at all costs."

you blink in confusion, heart setting into a panic. who's tsushima shuji? what did he have to do with dazai, and more importantly, you?

it doesn't take long for them to realize that you heard some of their conversation, and immediately, you were left with another stern warning.

"you're better off not digging too deep into this. he is not someone you want to cross paths with. stay out of trouble, young lady."

they hurry away, leaving you with a whirlwind of confusion, and you couldn't shake the feeling that the enigma surrounding dazai osamu had just deepened, and the revelation of shuji tsushima's involvement only added more layers to the mystery.

as the days unfolded, dazai couldn't ignore the growing distance between you two. in class and during breaks, your usual lively presence had been replaced by a quiet reserve, leaving him puzzled.

during a moment of shared silence, he finally broached the subject, "you've been distant lately. is something on your mind?"

you hesitate, grappling with the decision to reveal what you had discovered beforehand. however, fear of the unknown and the potential consequences held you back.

"it's just.. some personal stuff. nothing to worry about," you say, offering a weak smile to conceal the turmoil within.

dazai's eyes reflected a mix of understanding and concern, but he didn't press further. the unspoken tension lingered, casting a shadow over your friendship with him.

"you're not telling me the whole truth. i can tell," he says quite sternly.

despite his insistence, you clung to you decision to keep the truth hidden, "osamu, really, it's not something i can talk about right now. just personal stuff," you insist, avoiding eye contact.

dazai didn't relent, his concern deepening. "i thought we were past hiding things from each other. whatever it is, i can handle it, and we'll face it together."

his unwavering support tugged at my resolve, but the fear of the unknown continues to hold you back, "i appreciate your concern, dazai, but this is something i need to figure out on my own."

dazai, though disappointed, nods understandingly, "alright, whatever it is though, i'm here. i'll still be here, or at least, i'll try to."

those words seemed to carry a subtle weight, as if alluding to an impending departure.

confusion and concern flood your thoughts. "what do you mean? are you going away?"

his brown sugar eyes held a mixture of emotions—resignation, sadness, and a touch of mystery, "life is unpredictable. sometimes, we find ourselves on paths we didn't foresee. but don't worry, i'll always try to be here for you, [name]."

as dazai spoke, a sense of foreboding settled within you. the unspoken undertones left you grappling with a growing uncertainty about your shared future.

days turned into a disconcerting stretch of absence. dazai, once a constant presence in classrooms and breaks, was now notably absent. at first, you brushed it off, thinking he might be caught up in something, as he often was.

however, as the days passed, the nagging feeling that something was amiss grew stronger.

during lectures, his usual seat remained empty, and the laughter that used to accompany your breaks was replaced by an unsettling silence. the realization slowly crept in—dazai's words about trying to be there for you, coupled with the subtle sadness, were more significant than you had initially understood.

in a moment of clarity, you remembered his cryptic statement, "i will still be here, or at least i'll try to," the subtle forewarning now echoed loudly, and the pieces fell into place—you had overlooked the shadows of departure that shrouded your last conversation with him, and left you with a mixture of regret and nostalgia for the moments you and dazai had shared.

finally, unable to ignore the void left by his absence, you reached out, attempting to call him, only to be met with a voicemail that echoed with uncertainty.

"yahoo! this is dazai osamu speaking. i'm busy right now, so just leave a message."

panic set in as the truth you had been avoiding crystallized, dazai, true to his mysterious nature, had embarked on a journey that had taken him away.

tears welled up in your eyes as you find yourself reminiscing the moments shared with dazai while nearing your apartment.

each memory, once vibrant, now echoed with a profound sense of absence. the laughter, the camaraderie, and the enigmatic conversations became fragments of a past that seemed both distant and painfully close.

regret weighed heavily on your very heart as you replayed the events leading to dazai's departure.

the choice to keep the truth hidden, the distance that had crept into your interactions with one another, and the unspoken farewell in his words—all coalesced into a chorus of what-ifs and should-haves.

if only you had said, "don't go," or if you had swallowed your pride and shared the burden of the mysteries that unfolded, then maybe..

things could have been different.

you find yourself crumpling the finished lecture quiz you took this morning from one of your subjects and you couldn't help let out a frustrated cry, hurling it to the ground only to stomp it with the sole of your shoes.

your tearful eyes stare right down against the smudged score you had gotten. as wet hot tears streamed down your face, the realization hit you with a painful clarity—you had loved dazai.

not just for his company or the shared laughter, but for the person he was. the enigmatic charm, the wit that danced in his eyes, and the profound connection you two had formed were now etched in your heart with an indelible ache.

amidst your tearful attempts to call for dazai through your phone, a voice that you had grown to know so well echoed in the air. startled, you looked up to see him standing right in front of you.

however, the relief that momentarily washed over you transformed into shock and concern.

dazai, not in his usual uniform, was adorned in a black suit and tie. the familiar bandages that usually adorned his arms now covered not only them but also one of his eyes. what caught you off guard even more was the sight of blood that stained his clothes, giving an ominous edge to his appearance.

"what happened to you?" was all you manage to stammer, your tearful eyes wide with a mix of worry and confusion.

his usually playful smile was replaced by a weariness that seemed to extend beyond physical exhaustion, "i got caught up in something messy," he replies cryptically, his voice carrying a weight that hinted at a story he wasn't ready to share.

dazai's chuckle echoes, sending a strange mix of relief and frustration through you as you stare at him with teary eyes and a mix of emotions, his surprise was evident.

"well, well, i didn't expect you to be this worried, pretty girl," he remarks, his one visible eye sparkling with a mix of amusement and genuine astonishment, a way of trying to lighten up the mood.

frustration and relief battled within you, and you couldn't help but retort, "you disappeared without a word! what the hell did you expect?!"

dazai's chuckle merely persisted, but this time there was a warmth to it, as if you concern had managed to pierce through his enigmatic facade, "i suppose i underestimated the mess i'd leave behind. i'm sorry."

you frustration poured out in a torrent of words as you rant at dazai, "sorry? osamu, you were gone for days! and those men in black suits you were with even warned me about this tsushima shuji, and to keep myself out of trouble! what the hell is going on?!"

dazai's eyes, once filled with amusement, now darkened. there was a softening in his gaze as the weight of your words reached him, and in that moment, the enigma that was dazai osamu unraveled, revealing a truth you had never anticipated.

"of course, you saw. i knew, and i'm really sorry for not telling you sooner, my dear," he admitted, a heaviness in his voice. "but now you know. dazai osamu is just a persona, a mask i wear. i am tsushima shuji of the port mafia."

speechless, you stare at dazai—no, tsushima shuji—the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. the enigma that had shrouded his identity, the men in black suits, and the warnings.

it all made sense now, and the revelation left you stunned, the weight of the truth settling in.

the person you thought you knew as dazai osamu, the transfer student who had brought both laughter and mystery into your life, was also tsushima shuji, an executive of the port mafia.

as your shock subsided, a strange mix of emotions flooded through you; betrayal, understanding, and a lingering sense of danger.

dazai witnessed the myriad of emotions swirling within you—the shock, betrayal, and confusion etched across your face. the weight of the truth cast a shadow on your relationship, and as he looked at you, guilt and a hint of shame flickered in his eyes.

"why didn't you say anything? did you just lead me on then?" the questions spilled out, a torrent of hurt and confusion that mirrored the storm within your soul.

dazai met your gaze, his eyes reflecting the ache of your questions, "no, no, it was never a game to me. i never wanted to put you in danger," he explained, his voice tinged with a raw honesty that cut through the layers of his carefully constructed persona of a port mafia executive.

"so, what now? you're going to leave now, aren't you?" you ask on edge yet tearfully, your voice breaking with the weight of betrayal heavy in your words, "so you only came to my school, to my fucking life, all just to hide your true identity."

his eyes reflect the pain of your shared truth, "i never intended for it to be this way. it was never just a facade, [name]. i genuinely enjoyed our time together but the danger i bring is real."

"then... then i don't care!" you suddenly cry out, surprising both yourself and dazai, "who gives a fuck if you're shuji, some executive of an underground organization, because for all i know, you're dazai osamu. you're my osamu, my idiot of a seatmate, my rival."

the defiance in your words seemed to catch him off guard, and you continued, your voice shaking but resolute, "you can't just waltz into my life, become a part of it, and then vanish without a trace. i won't let you go that easily."

dazai's eyes, once clouded with the weight of impending departure, softened with a mix of surprise and something akin to gratitude.

amidst the chaos, the mess, and the intricate web of his life, he saw something genuine and profound. you loved him, not for the manipulative and intelligent mind, and the black blood that runs in his veins that everyone sought, especially the port mafia, but for the person beyond the masks and dual identities.

in that moment, the weight of your shared connection took on a new meaning. you truly loved him for who he was—dazai osamu, the seatmate, the rival, the enigma, and despite the dangerous world he inhabited.

and in return, he loved you back, not for any ulterior motive or scheme, but for the authenticity of our connection.

dazai looked into your eyes, a depth of sincerity replacing the enigmatic gleam that often defined him, "i never expected to find this."

he confessed, his voice carrying a vulnerability you hadn't heard before, "but everything we've had, everything we've shared—it's real to me, [name]."

dazai continued, his gaze unwavering, "i did transfer to your school just to hide, but i wanted something real and in you, i found that. i didn't think you'd care nor did i plan to fall for you, but i did. it's a mess, but it's a mess that feels right."

dazai's heartfelt admission stirred another mix of emotions within you. tearfully, you ask, "you think so? all of this, it's not just some elaborate act?"

he nods, his eyes conveying a depth of sincerity at the moment, "i'm not good at expressing emotions, but what we have is real. despite the chaos, the mess, and my own shortcomings, i've found something genuine with you."

in a surge of emotions, you find yourself running up to dazai, flinging your arms around him despite his disheveled and bloodied state. the authenticity of the moment transcended the chaos that surrounded you.

dazai, surprised by the sudden embrace, couldn't help but find himself smiling. your arms tightened around him and he whispers into your ear with such sincerity, "i love you."

the weight of those three words, uttered amidst the mess of our intertwined lives, and amidst the chaos and the mess, dazai gently cups your face, his bloodied hands a stark contrast to the tenderness in his touch.

he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss your lips, a promise sealed with the authenticity of your love.

breaking the kiss, he looked into your eyes, the sincerity and genuineness in his gaze unwavering, forehead against yours endearingly, and him tugging the bandages covering his right eye in one swift movement.

"i'm not going anywhere now. if anything, i'm your osamu, and that's who i want to be."

wrong place at the right time.

౨ৎ tagging the sweetest people — @aureatchi @ruanais @cheriiyaya @anqelically @salmonieea ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

katsuki bakugo’s love language is definitely acts of service. he’s not the best at expressing his feelings — usually blurting out the wrong thing or saying the complete opposite of how he actually feels. so instead, he puts his heart into the things he does for you, rather than what he says.

it’s usually the little things. like doing your laundry before you even notice the pile building up. packing your lunch when you’re running late (which is often), scribbling a snarky note on the lid like, “eat all of it. don’t be stupid.” massaging your sore spots after a long day of training, grumbling under his breath about how you “need to take care of yourself.”

somehow, he remembers everything you say, even if you only mentioned it once. he was like your own personal to-do list in human form.

the trash needed to be taken out? it was gone before you could even stand up. cleaning your room? done quietly while you were in the shower. needed to study for an exam? he had your notes ready and made you sit with him, just so he could make sure your focused. your favorite lip gloss went missing? there were three new ones waiting on your desk, the exact shade, like it was no big deal.

but he never brings any of it up himself. so when you catch on and finally realize how much he does for you without ever asking for credit, you throw your arms around him in a hug full of thank yous and messy kisses.

he rolls his eyes and grumbles, “yea, s’whatever.”

however, you see the way his ears turn red and how he tries holding back his grin. and although he’d never say it out loud, you knew. he loved you more than anything. and this was his quiet, steady way of showing, and saying it, every day.

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well Chuuya??? was it????

morning, darling ! bsd men

౨ৎ… morning scenarios with the bsd men <3 ft. dazai, kunikida, ranpo, sigma and chuuya

౨ৎ… fluff, slightly suggestive in kunikida and dazai’s parts, mostly domestic scenarios, established relationship, they’re all lovesick idiots ₊ ⊹ 6k words total

— OSAMU DAZAI;

one thing about dazai is this man is clingy as fuck in the mornings (not that he usually is any different). as soon as he wakes up he’ll pepper your face with kisses, caress your skin and play with your hair not caring if you are awake or not. most of the time the first thing you utter as soon as you start to wake up is “ughh.. osamu…” which always gets him to chuckle like a schoolboy who played a prank on his parents.

“good morning, m’lady” he says in his la-di-da voice as you stare him down, wondering how the fuck he’s so energetic in the morning. you know the answer though: between his sleep issues and his usual “very healthy” mindset, this man could not, for the life of him, behave normally. you sometimes cursed yourself for getting into a relationship with this man (which never lasted long, considering that you melted each time he touched you).

you get up lazily, yawning loudly before you stretch your back. dazai’s eyes wander over your belly the second your shirt rolls up, like the weirdo that he is and the moment your spine makes a tiny cracking sound and dazai lets out an over-the-top, exaggerated noise of shock “MY BEAUTIFUL LADY! YOU’LL HURT THY BACK!” he dramatises as you squint your eyes at him yet again. oh, how he loved to piss you off when you hadn’t woken up yet.

“can you stop talking to me like we’re in a medieval fantasy book? you’re annoying” you sigh as dazai slaps a hand to his chest, gasping yet again. it only makes you roll your eyes as he continues to speak in a very bad accent and tries not to chuckle at the end of every sentence.

“but, my lady! that is most preposterous! how could i ever hold my tongue with such a divine sight in front of me?!” you’re so close to smacking this man. dazai’s front finally breaks and he starts laughing loudly, clutching his stomach with his bandaged hands as you roll your eyes at him.

“stop it” and when dazai leans back against the headboard, eyes staring you up and down: from your bed head to the way the oversized shirt you were wearing hangs low on your chest, he can’t help but bite his lip at the sight. even in the morning, after just waking up, you were incredibly stunning to him.

“yes ma’am” he says with absolutely no hesitation, patting his lap to make you get closer. when you look at him unconvinced, dazai sucks his teeth and gets closer, picking you up and placing you on his lap. when your hands instinctively wrap around his neck and start playing with the ends of his dark curls, dazai flashes you a smile. he rubs your back gently, tapping his fingertips on your clothed skin “want me to help with the back pain? i happen to be very skilled with my hands.”

you scoff at the remark as his grin only gets wider “you could actually massage it, you know? it actually hurts pretty bad” you reply, your skin buzzing from the feel of his cold fingers sliding under your shirt to make contact with your skin. dazai’s fingers travel on the curve of your spine, eyes glued to yours as he extends his neck upwards.

“i could.. for a fair price” how you wish you could wipe that cocky smile off his face.. but considering how sore your back was from having slept in an awkward position all night, you considered it. you tuck one side of his hair behind his ear and, cupping his jaw gently, you bring him in for a kiss. dazai hums against your mouth, content to get the payment he deserves and slowly pushes you on your back, towering over you to deepen the kiss and make it last a little longer than he knew you intended it to be.

“turn. lay on your belly for me” you comply with a satisfied smile, rolling on your chest before pulling the shirt off of you. dazai’s fingers trace your bare back, nails grazing at your sides before he places himself properly behind you. you put your arms under your head expectantly, shivering when you feel his lips make contact with your skin instead.

“osamu!” you threaten as he smiles, stealing a few more kisses to the back of your neck and your shoulder blades. god, this man was shameless.

“sorry, my love. couldn’t resist” his affirmation makes you smile to yourself for a bit as he reaches for the body cream you used in the bottom drawer of the nightstand. he layers it on his hands, starting to make upward motions with his palms on your back. when you let out a shaken breath, he stops “where does it hurt most?”

“here” you point to the area which is causing you the most trouble, letting dazai take care of it. turns out he wasn’t lying. his palms and fingers make wonders on your back as he expertly massages your tense muscles. you gasp repeatedly as your back de-tenses, point in which dazai stops, sighs and removes his hands. you turn around, confused “why’d you stop?”

“listen.. if you’re gonna make those pornographic sounds it’s gonna become a problem” dazai’s lips curl into a mischievous smile, one that makes you give him an ugly stare again.

“you’re just a weirdo” dazai chuckles at your annoyed remark, bending to press a chaste kiss to your cheekbone before getting back to work.

“i was joking… probably” you roll your eyes again, knowing well enough he was not joking. he continues to rub and massage your back until most of the pain and soreness is gone. you put your shirt back on, putting the lid on the cream back on while dazai thoroughly washes his hands in the bathroom. when he’s back in the room, however, he’s quick to jump on you, requesting even more kisses.

“how did i do?” he asks gingerly, his eyes widening in excitement. you sigh softly, playing with the edge of the bandage that’s wrapped around his neck.

“you did great actually. but you might’ve broken a few of my bones just now…” you both chuckle at the remark. dazai relaxes instantly when you kiss him, softly touching the side of your face and promising to massage you again whenever you want. you think he might need to soon, considering how he refuses to get off of you, crushing you with his weight the whole day.

— KUNIKIDA DOPPO;

we already know by now that kunikida is stressed if his plans don’t go right. so when you turn off his alarm so he can sleep in one beautiful morning, he panics as soon as he wakes up.

and trust me, he’s ready to scold you like you’re a child for how you behaved. sure, it’s nice of you to want him to get more rest but his ideals? what will happen to them? of course he has to wake up at 7am on weekends and review his ideals notebook over and over, are you kidding?

but the moment he sets his glasses on the bridge of his nose and turns to you his demeanour falls and his heart begins to race against his chest. there you are, curled into his chest and holding onto his waist like you’re afraid he’ll disappear, there you are, sleeping soundly because of his presence. oh, this man is so flustered. i’m talking red cheeks and closed eyes because he can’t handle how cute you are.

his hand finds its way to your face and he brushes his fingertips through your hair, lightly grazing your scalp before cradling the back of your head to bring you in for a kiss. and he’s beating himself over it too. how could he steal a kiss so shamelessly without asking permission? (even if you had told him numerous times that you didn’t mind) how could he do such a thing to his beautiful girl?

he can’t help it. as stern and polite as kunikida is, this man turns to goo the moment you enter the room, glance his way, open your mouth, and touch him in the slightest. his defiance always falters and whatever you ask for you get. a simple question will get kunikida to automatically say ‘yes’, without thinking, without even letting you finish. he’s just that in love with you.

and he doesn’t want to leave bed now. he doesn’t want to break free from your warm embrace. but now that he’s awake and can’t fall asleep, he badly craves a coffee. so, with regret, he stands up slightly and replaces the warmth of his body with the fluffiness of his pillow, hoping it would suffice. but don’t think he’s gonna leave without pressing another kiss to your furrowed brows. oh no. he keeps his lips pressed against your wrinkled skin for a few seconds, getting it to relax before muttering a small “i apologise” and exiting the bedroom.

kunikida heads straight to the kitchen. sure, it would be more logical to use the bathroom first but in all honesty, the last thing he needs is to see himself all flustered from seeing you cuddled up to him alone. he knows the image of himself will only make his face get redder and then what? you’ll wake up and make fun of him for being a lovesick fool.

like the time you made fun of him for becoming red after seeing you in the anniversary outfit that you had picked up specifically for your date. or when you made fun of him for how shy he acted when he slid the promise ring on your finger, asking you if you’d be his one day. legally, of course. or the day you slightly suggested, as a joke, to relieve kunikida’s stress from under the desk, right in the office. the poor guy almost had a panic attack.

and now here he was, smiling like an idiot as his coffee brewed, as he stirred into the cup. kunikida had never felt this way, about anyone. to him, you were ideal. which at first was scary to him, considering you didn’t meet all of his ideal qualities in a woman (would be damn near impossible anyway). but he loved you, he wanted you around him all the time and– “what are you smiling for?”

he turns around sharply spilling half of the coffee in his cup on his shirt and cursing at himself for doing so. you laugh from the hallway, shoulder pressed to the doorframe as you step into the kitchen, grabbing the hands of your panicked boyfriend “easy now, did you burn yourself?” you check every spot on his hands for burn marks before looking up at him.

“no.. no.. uhm, did i wake you?” kunikida stammers as he sets the cup down on the counter “fuck” he sharply states one more time as you chuckle. he inspects the state of his shirt, sighing in exasperation when he sees the big brown spot on his smooth blue cloth. before he can do anything rash, however, you cup his face with your hands.

“you didn’t. it’s fine, my love. i’ll take care of it, okay?” he feels his temperature drop a bit. you were always the one who could calm him down, the one who could ground him when he acted out of line for whatever little mishap. he gives you a small nod, parting away from you to hurry and make you a coffee. as you jump up on the counter, your boyfriend expertly prepares your coffee, handing it to you and fixing his glasses.

“how did you sleep?” his eyes rest over your figure a little, taking note of the satisfaction in your features when you take a sip of coffee. he follows suit, bringing the cup to his lips and tasting whatever he has left in it. he thinks it’s probably time to make another one. maybe this one he won’t spill.

“hmm, good. even better that my handsome boyfriend was ogling me like i was the most precious thing” and here goes the rest of the coffee, as kunikida projectile spits it in the sink. well, what can you say? at least he reached the sink. you can’t help but laugh at his silly action as he goes red all the way to his ears “say, you’re not upset i turned off your alarm, are you?”

kunikida takes a few moments to compose himself, his fingers pressed to his mouth before he turns again. his pupils widen at the sight of you, his pretty little thing, up on the counter and tilting your head with the biggest grin on your face. normally, if it was anyone else, he’d get angry. but you? who could get angry at you? clearing his throat, he finally gets closer.

“i’m not” your hands find his neck, as you pull him between your legs just so he’s closer. “i have to admit.. the extra sleep felt good… but don’t do it again” he sternly asks, earning a pout from you. he wants to kiss those pretty lips so bad, oh so bad. kunikida’s mind is going absolutely feral as he watches you get all pouty at his request.

“you don’t want to spend time in bed with me?”

“that’s not the point, darling, i–“

“come on, kuni.. you know you liked it.. indulge me” you beg sweetly. you watch as his eyes light up at the nickname, a small snicker evading his mouth before he agrees sheepishly “so then..” you add, closing the space between the two of you until your noises touch “care to join me back in bed?”

and he shouldn’t. kunikida’s day had already started. he got up, drank his coffee (or what was left of it) and was supposed to get dressed and go do some work. but as mentioned previously: this man simply cannot resist you. so he lets himself get persuaded, especially when your lips touch his so gently. you didn’t have to, really, he was already going to say yes. but an extra kiss sure does help.

— EDOGAWA RANPO;

there is not one man in this whole wide world who hates waking up in the morning more than ranpo does. the moment the sun shines through the window and hits his closed eyelids, this man starts groaning and whining, most of the time still asleep, at how uncomfortable it feels. ranpo loves naps, he loves staying in the comfort of his own bed and even more so that he had you as a pillow.

you open your eyes to the sound of your boyfriend huffing and puffing about being woken up by the noise of the busy streets outside. his messy dark hair tickles your chin, his cheek still pressed to your chest as he keeps his eyes shut, attempting to go back to sleep and failing miserably. his grip on your waist tightens and sighs, finally speaking properly “i know you’re awake.”

you let out an amused breath, hand going straight to his hair to play with it “did you deduct that with your amazing skills or did you realise you’ve woken me up?” ranpo’s head shoots up in a faux shocked expression, dramatically gasping as he removes his upper body from yours. never mind that his legs were still tangled with yours, if you were gonna give him sass he was going to reply with sass.

“excuse me? are you denying my amazing ability? are you excusing the behaviour of these insane people yelling outside for no reason? i am a victim!” he dramatises, hitting his closed fist on the mattress. you giggle, cupping his cheek with one hand as you scan his pouty face “it’s the weekend! why do people have to be going places at this hour?”

“it’s 1pm, baby” you remind him gently. that however doesn’t stop him from further jutting his lip out and parting away from you completely so he can glance out the window with the nastiest look he could give. to appear even more menacing, ranpo crosses his arms in annoyance as he continues to complain about his ruined beauty sleep. you think he resembles a very cute dumpling.

sliding across the sheets, your arms find his waist just as quick as your lips find that spot on his neck that makes him ticklish. ranpo’s whines are interrupted by a small “hey!” as his face brightens from your touch. you sigh into his neck, taking in his scent and allowing him to cool down from his little tantrum. you watch the leaves of a tree move outside from a slight breeze.

“i really cherish my naps.. i find this inhumane!” ranpo continues to protest even after he’s completely relaxed in your arms, head thrown back against your shoulder. you smile at this child-like behaviour, pressing kisses to his cheek, jaw, neck and all the way down to his exposed collarbone. you watch as his skin starts to get redder, feel the heat grow into his cheeks and continue to shower him with affection.

“you missed a spot..” ranpo finally says, pouting his lips and pointing at them with his index. can this man get any cuter? the answer is yes, because the moment you don’t immediately attack his lips, ranpo moves closer, eyes glued to yours “kiss.. please” how can you deny him? you couldn’t even if you tried. you press a tiny kiss between his brows, two down the bridge of his nose, another two to the tip before you arrive at his lips, smooching them tenderly.

ranpo sighs against your lips, finally calming down as he holds onto your hand. his long eyelashes reveal his starstruck eyes and he reaches in again, kissing you with more heat than before. you give in, returning the kiss fully as his tongue swipes over your bottom lip and you sneak a hand under his shirt to caress his waist. the tip of his nose brushes against your cheek, his chin bumps into yours and before you know it you’re both out of breath.

“feeling better?” you ask softly, making ranpo grin all the way to his ears. he leans into your touch, sighing softly before an idea appears in his mind, making him jump. startled, you watch him as he jumps out of bed with excitement, raising his hand in the sky like he reached an epiphany.

“yes! in fact, i have the most wonderful idea!” you fear what his idea might involve. ranpo was smart, incredibly smart, sure. but the man wasn’t known for having necessarily good ideas, or safe ones, for that matter. he grabs your hands happily dragging you into the kitchen after him. hopping on the counter, ranpo makes his announcement “we should make pancakes! yaaayy!!”

you smile at him, letting out a soft breath before agreeing. after all, denying ranpo of both sleep, cuddles and sweets would be considered a federal crime. at least in his book. you look through the drawers and cabinets for all the necessary utensils before asking him to search for the ingredients in the fridge.

as expected, cooking with ranpo is messy. from butting in because “he knows better” to taste testing the batter so much you have to chase him for the bowl, it’s safe to say that by the time the pancakes are done, you don’t even feel hungry anymore. you sit yourself on the couch, totally spent as ranpo jumps on the cushion next to you and sets the empty pancakes on the coffee table alongside the different sweet fillings and sauces. after a while of messily preparing breakfast, he urges you to open wide “ahhhh!”

“baby, i don’t think—“ you don’t get to finish before a forkful of dessert is shoved into your mouth. you fearfully chew on the food, scared to gulp it down for a very good reason: ranpo had the sweetest tooth ever, which meant the pancake would probably be filled with anything and everything to make it sweeter. you simply didn’t want a toothache.

to your surprise, however, the taste is familiar and you turn around to your smiling boyfriend who prepares another bite for you “like it? i filled it with your favourite jam!” the urge to kiss him has never been stronger. so you decide to give into it, grabbing his face and pressing a wet, sticky-sweet smooch to his lips. taken aback, ranpo almost drops the fork he was holding and looks up at you, face flushed as you pull away and take the other bite he prepared “guess you like it, huh?”

“of course i do! made by the best boyfriend of all time!” you can basically see his back straighten and his chest widen at the sudden praise, a big grin on his lips as he gives you his characteristic smile before wholeheartedly agreeing “where’s your pancakes?…” you ask, looking around before you see it.

plate chock-full of pancakes that are filled with different kinds of jams, chocolate and tons of whipped cream with sprinkles. your eyes go wide, mouth going dry as ranpo proudly looks at his delicacy “tasty-looking, right? but i won’t share! i already prepared your breakfast for you!”

you spend the next few minutes enjoying the pancakes he prepared for you and then swiping the whipped cream off of his lips (sometimes with your thumb, sometimes by kissing him). and obviously, ranpo is elated by his culinary prowess. you just wonder how he’s still so calm and relaxed after eating so much sugar, insisting on taking another nap, right there on the couch. cuddles included and required !

— SIGMA;

sigma is a man of habit. from running the casino to your relationship, he always does his best to provide. he wakes up early, he does his chores around the house and then goes to work up until late, taking care of matters he only entrusts himself to. his reward? soft touches, giggly kisses and whispered “i love you’s” from his one and only. and he won’t have it any other way.

that’s why, when sigma wakes up before the sun rises, he takes a few good minutes to take you in. a good patch of his life was meaningless. besides the casino, he knew nothing, he felt like nothing. and when you appeared, that changed. sigma takes a while to reminisce all the moments between the two of you, a soft smile on his lips as he caresses your cheek with his hand. when your eyelids shift and you smile at his touch, sigma’s face goes red, completely enamoured with you.

he wants to show you how much he cares, how much he loves you. and so, he brings the covers all the way to your neck before getting up and opening the window for some fresh air. he goes to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and doing his skincare (not that he needed any, he enjoyed the routine) before returning to your shared bedroom and closing the window, afraid his princess might catch a cold.

he worries the noise he’s been making by walking around might wake you up soon… and you’ll definitely be hungry! and how could he let his darling go hungry? sigma glances lovingly at your sleeping figure one more time before stepping out into the hallway and making his way to the kitchen and starting to browse through the cookbook for a breakfast fit for his beloved.

he ties his long silky hair in a bun, ties your pretty apron to his waist and gets to work instantly. from eggs to steamed rice and rolled omelette with a side of seaweed (his speciality), this man takes his time to cook up a few tasty dishes that you can share together when you wake up. he cuts up your favourite fruit, sets it on a platter and looks around to see what he can add to the already delicious meals he prepared.

“ah! orange juice!” he exclaims, starting to cut up fresh oranges to make you your beverage of choice. the kitchen table is soon filled with plates of all kinds, different beverages and even napkins. as he sets down the last two glasses on the table, there sound of dragged footsteps reaches the room.

and when you enter: oh, what a sight! the table is filled with delicious dishes that entice your senses, sun rays hitting the table and your beautiful boyfriend, bent over the table and looking up at you as he places a glass of orange juice down “good morning” sigma gives you a small smile, straightening his back as he scans your awed face.

“what’s all this?” you inquire, now fully awake. you get closer, examining the dishes and taking notice of the beautiful designs on them. your boyfriend had not only made you breakfast, but he had also taken care of every bit of detail to make sure it was perfect “do we.. have someone over?” you smile as you scan all the food on the table. sure, it was all amazing and appetising but.. how were the two of you going to eat all of that?

“uh, no.. i… i made you breakfast. i didn’t know what you wanted but i didn’t want to wait until you woke up. i wanted it to be ready for you when you got up so–“ sigma’s explanation is cut off by a tender kiss to his lips, one that makes his mind spin and his ears catch a tint of red. he doesn’t know what to do with his hands for a couple of seconds, not with the way your palms rest at the base of his neck, holding him gently like he’s the most special thing (and he is). he soon wraps his arms around you, kissing back and pulling away slightly, only so he can apply two more pecks to your lips.

“i think it might be too much food” you smile against his lips, making him blush. was it too much? had he gone overboard? sigma’s palms start to sweat, something you notice. you take his face into your palms, looking at him softly “thank you, my love. you didn’t have to. but thank you” and he pulls you back in, alternating between longer, needier kisses and soft hurried ones that make you both chuckle against each other. when he finally pulls away, he urges you to sit down, dragging a chair for you like the gentleman he is.

“oh! i forgot the straws!” he exclaims, rushing back to the counter to grab two straws for your juice before finally sitting down across from you. “please.. let me know how i did” he urges, pointing at the dishes as you glance at him. it doesn’t take long for you to start taking bites from everything, expressing just how tasty everything is, how nicely paired the condiments are and how the food melts in your mouth.

sigma’s chin rests in his palm, watching you with loving eyes as you eat your fill from every dish. he might be full just from looking at you eating what he prepared with such hastiness that you honestly don’t even realise he hasn’t touched the food for a good 10 minutes. the moment you do, however… “do not let me eat all this by myself, i’m gonna get sick! it’s all too good!”

sigma chuckles, taking a sip of his orange juices before his eyes stop back on your cute cheeks that get puffier with each bite “i made it for you anyway. eat all you’d like.” you sit the chopsticks down with a bang, attempting to swallow the food in your mouth quicker so you can lecture him about not eating.

sigma is amused, thoroughly enjoying your cute behaviour before he finally gives in and takes some food for himself. you’re right, the food he prepared wasn’t nearly as bad as he feared it was. but you enjoying it made him feel amazing nonetheless. he despises the thought that in a few minutes, he’ll have to get up, get dressed and be out the door to go to work, but spending time with you is all the more rewarding.

as he grabs his keys and puts on his shoes, untying his hair from the previous bun, sigma turns to you. you smooth the ridges in his coat, slide your palms over his shoulders and detangle some strands of hair before grabbing his face and pressing several kisses to his glossy lips “that apron really suited you, you know?” you smile as you brush sigma’s bangs away from his eyes.

sigma’s eyes soften, his heart swells and he fights the urge to not pick you up and trap you in his arms. he hates that he has to leave for work, he hates that you can’t go with him. he knows that he’d be distracted the whole day if you were there but does it matter? he thinks it’s unfair he can’t have you next to him all the time “really? i should cook for you more often then.”

“maybe you should. i’m starting to think you’re a better cook than me anyway” you both smile, kissing passionately and not intending to let go. unfortunately for you, his alarm rings, signalling that an incident that requires his immediate attention has happened in the casino. he sighs says his ‘see you later’, opens the door and halts before turning back and grabbing you into another kiss “go! you’ll be late! one more kiss and you won’t leave!”

sigma smiles, pressing his forehead onto yours and drinking you in one last time before finally whispering “see you tonight” and exiting the apartment. he knew you were right. one more kiss and his employees would’ve had to deal with the incident. he hopes the day will pass by quick so he can be back in your arms again.

— NAKAHARA CHUUYA;

now, our beloved ginger wakes up hungover most days of the week. after a job well done nothing goes better than a few bottles of wine shared with his pretty girl and, considering how lightweight he is, it also guarantees him some restful sleep.

it’s hell for him when he wakes up though. his eyes, head and body hurt, he can’t go back to sleep but can’t function properly either. he requires medicine to get his day going. and on most occasions, the best medicine to make chuuya’s head stop spinning is a few kisses from you.

“fuck…” the man beside you growls in annoyance as he turns on his back, placing his hand on his eyes to block out the sunlight “the light is too fucking loud….” he complains in a high-pitched manner before mumbling a string of curses and a bunch of ‘i will never drink again’. it makes you chuckle, amused at his behaviour as he only seems to get more and more annoyed.

“loud? don’t you mean bright?” you smile, scooting over so you can rest your chin on his chest, your right index drawing circles on his clothed skin. chuuya grumbles something unintelligible, glancing down at you and catching your eyes right before you bend your face down to press a kiss to his peck. with a bite to his lip, this man is gone completely, heart thumping against his chest as heat rises to his cheeks. what was he even mad about?

“whatever…” he sighs, rolling his eyes before covering them again with a groan. one of your hands slide down to his waist, gently holding onto it as you use the other to push yourself upwards so you can place chaste kisses on his chin. a stray kiss to chuuya’s neck makes him giggle for a second and he lets you remove his hand away so you can litter his face with your affections “shit, it’s bright..”

“oh? looks like you’re sobering up already!” you tease him, making him roll his eyes and childishly mock your words before starting to caress your back. he lets himself get kissed until he’s melting into the covers and, when he thinks you’ve played games enough he grabs your chin and stares at your lips, at your knowing smile, before he takes your mouth on his. it calms him, having you on top of him, hands either on the side of his face or his chest as you give him lazy morning kisses to wake him up.

unfortunately, the dream breaks away quite quickly when you break free from his grasp, urging him to take the hangover medicine on the nightstand before getting dressed. chuuya’s eyes wander over your figure as he takes the pill, gulping it down with a chug of water “i’m going to go and buy some rice. we ran out and you need to eat” you explain as you press a kiss between his brows.

his muscles relax, hand going to your wrist and caressing the hand that rested on his face. when you specifically instruct him not to come with you and stay in bed, chuuya’s anger gets the best of him again “i don’t need shitty rice! you can go later! i’m not even hungry!” and like it was meant to betray him, his stomach lets out a loud growl that makes you grin.

“i won’t be long, baby. you won’t even notice my absence” you try to talk him out of his little tantrum. no use. chuuya should be able to enjoy spending time with his girl on weekend mornings! why would you want to disturb his peace? seeing him get so bothered by it was nonetheless extremely cute. and seeing as you’re set on going to the store to cook breakfast for him, that’s when chuuya thinks of a plan.

“one more kiss? and then you go?” he almost begs, seemingly not bothered anymore by you leaving. you comply, bending over to place a sweet kiss on his lips, letting him hold the back of your head. and right before you intend to pull away…

“mmph– chuuya!” he grabs you by your waist, pulling you on top of him and rolling over, securing his grip on you with both his arms and his legs. you look at him absolutely shocked, insisting he lets go! no use. chuuya’s acting no older than a 5 year old, burying his face in the crook of your neck to escape the light and refusing to let go.

“just order takeout! i’ll pay for it…” he says as he tightens his grip more and more. your muscles relax, your arms wrap around him and the only thing you can do is open your phone, selecting his favourite food and ordering it before starting to run your hand through his messy orange curls. it takes a while for him to agree to get out of bed. hell, he even insists you don’t leave the bed once the delivery guy rings the doorbell.

“you’re so clingy” you say matter-of-factly as he rolls his eyes, chewing on his food. your thumb grazes the corner of his mouth, swiping some sauce away from his lip before staring into his stormy eyes. by the look of his face, he was starting to sober up more and more, leaving the goofy and silly drunk chuuya behind and bringing the port mafia’s gravity user back… which was in fact probably more silly in secret than he was when drunk.

“yeah yeah well… don’t act like you don’t like it” chuuya retorts, smiling as he hears your laughter reach his ears. he says nothing, bending over the table and giving you a small kiss to your lips before turning back to his food, which he eats quickly due to how hungry he actually was. he promises not to drink any more wine that night. a promise he doesn’t keep, obviously. but what can you do? he’s your man. and if taking care of him in the morning after getting drunk was what it took to have him, you’d keep doing it.

© cultrise | don’t steal, copy or translate my works.

.ᐟ foreseeable future — pt. 3

k.bakugou smau

he’s your brother’s best friend (and your bf!!!!!!!! wow!!)

a/n: hashtag real shit hashtag i want that cookie bad hashtag here’s a requested last part eeeeeeeeeekkkk

bnha masterlist. | part 1 | part 2 | main masterlist.

currently thinking about bakugo “it’s not that deep” katsuki.

katsuki’s got a temper that makes him more chalant than not, but when it comes to everything else the blonde is relatively…unreactive. it’s not like he tries to be that way, he just has to be. when you’re surrounded by idiots like denki & sero on a daily basis, you eventually learn to choose your fucks & allocate them wisely.

“bakugo, class 1-B’s been hogging the hero equipment—how do we train now ?”

“it’s never that deep, tape face. just go later y’dumbass”

“bakubro, i think my situationship just blocked me—“

“literally just move on. really not that serious.”

the phrase has practically become katsuki’s signature one liner. so it’s a shock when his friends make you realize you’ve never actually heard the words from his lips.

“katsuki ? and nonchalant ? in the same sentence ? you must be joking.”

mina & sero are watching outer banks with your laptop while denki & kiri glance at each other in confusion. “you’re serious? he’s never said stuff like that to you ?”

“like ever?”

“never.” you run a brush through your hair. “though i guess i could imagine him talking to you guys that way.”

“double standards go crazy” mina mumbles. “real.”

“no, guys—all hope is not lost. it could be that y/n is really rational so he never has to say it, you feel me ?”

you scoff, but denki keeps talking, “we can test this out. just get y/n to act really dramatic and see how bakugo reacts.”

sero pauses the episode, ignoring the scowl that graces mina’s lips. “fifty bucks there really is a double standard and bakugo won’t act all nonchalant.”

“fifty bucks ? that’s half my salary!”

“not my fault you work at mcdonald’s dawg. you guys in or what ?”

kiri’s quick to strike the deal on kaminari’s behalf. denki’s about to protest when the fiery blond walks in.

“disgusting. why are you all sitting around like degenerates? not you baby.”

“what happened to ‘hello, how are you?’”

“hi ‘suki.” you purr, ignoring sero. katsuki dips his head to peck your lips, a quiet ‘hey pretty’ mumbled into your cheek.

sero snaps his fingers at the display of affection. “excuse me? in front of my obx?”

“the one you’re watching with my netflix subscription?” bakugo snaps the laptop shut and mina protests with a mouth full of popcorn. you’re about to playfully defend the duo when kirishima nudges your elbow. he cocks his head towards bakugo and you understand immediately.

“katsuki,” you tug at the hem of your boyfriend’s sleeve & look into his eyes with the most tender expression you can muster. “i’m out of lipliner.”

“okay ?”

you hear a snort and you know it’s from sero.

“there’s nothing ‘okay’ about it ‘suki. i need a new one or else i’ll literally die.”

bakugo’s brows knit in confusion. “is this your way of begging me for money?” he begins to dig at his wallet and you swat his arm away.

“beg is insane.”

“i don’t need your money.” you snap. “i need my lipliner. now”

“just order—“ “now.”

“what do you mean now? it’s almost nine pm, where the fuck are you going ?”

“nowhere. i just need it.”

“do you have a fever ?” “katsuki!”

“i need it now ‘suki,” you hug your arms around his body and place your chin on his chest. “if i don’t get it right now i’m literally gonna cry.”

your lips jut into a pout. you can tell he’s about to protest so you take his palm into your own. “it’s not that—fuck. whatever. where the hell are my keys ?”

he gently nudges you off him before grabbing the car keys off the front table, a string of grumbles leaving his lips as he sets out on the side quest regardless. he shuts the door behind him & suddenly the room buzzes back to life.

“y/n your pussy cannot be that good.”

“literally what i’m saying bro.”

“ho did you use rose quartz on him ??”

“i always knew you were a witch for real.”

“this whole interaction just piss me off.”

“i’m going home. denki and kiri, you owe me fifty bucks each.”

“EACH ?”

( bonus )

it’s nearly half an hour later & katsuki isn’t back so you’re starting to get worried. sero and the gang have already left, leaving you to deal with the growing anxiety by yourself. you finally decided to text your boyfriend only to find he’s sent you several messages already:

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

a language only you speak

synopsis: wife privileges with bakugou katsuki are very much real.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the agency is bustling with its usual chaos—sidekicks rushing from desk to desk, phones ringing nonstop, and the occasional explosion from the training hall shaking the walls.

in the center of it all, katsuki katsuki sits at his desk, arms crossed, scowling at the stack of paperwork he’s been putting off all morning.

his brows twitch in irritation, but before he can push the papers off his desk and call it quits, the door swings open with a force that makes a few nearby interns jump.

“katsuki!”

your voice slices through the noise, effortlessly commanding attention.

sidekicks freeze mid-step. pro heroes pause in their conversations. even kirishima, who’s used to your entrances by now, watches with barely contained amusement.

the only person who doesn’t seem at all surprised is katsuki himself.

he exhales through his nose, tipping his chair back just enough to get a good look at you as you stomp toward his desk. his scowl softens—just a little.

“the hell are you doing here?”

“you forgot your lunch,” you say, placing a neatly packed bento box in front of him with a pointed glare. “again.”

there’s a beat of silence.

katsuki clicks his tongue, eyes flicking from you to the box. his fingers tap against the desk like he’s debating whether to take it, but the hesitation is brief.

with a grumble, he snatches it up, pulling it toward him like it’s a classified mission briefing.

you cross your arms and watch him open it, waiting for his reaction. it’s all his favorites—seasoned rice, grilled fish, a few side dishes you made just the way he likes.

he doesn’t say thank you, but you know him well enough to recognize the way his eyes linger on the food, the almost imperceptible shift in his posture.

he’s pleased.

you reach over, brushing your fingers against his collar, smoothing out the slightly rumpled fabric.

the agency watches in stunned silence, waiting for the inevitable explosion, but it never comes. katsuki lets you fuss over him without so much as a grunt of complaint.

that’s when kirishima, ever the instigator, speaks up.

“hey, dynamight,” he calls from across the room, arms crossed with a grin. “how come you let her do that, but if I even breathe near you, you tell me to ‘fuck off’?”

kaminari jumps in immediately, pointing an accusatory finger. “yeah! I tried to fix your mask that one time, and you nearly murdered me.”

katsuki pauses mid-bite, eyes flicking up. the office is dead silent, waiting for his response. his expression is unreadable for a moment before he speaks, voice low and deliberate.

“is your name y/n?”

kirishima and kaminari exchange glances. “uh…no?” kirishima ventures.

“are you my wife?”

kaminari snorts. “pretty sure we’d know if we were.”

“then shut the fuck up.”

the office settles into a stunned silence after katsuki’s blunt response, eyes darting between him and you like they’re watching a rare phenomenon unfold.

kirishima leans back slightly, arms crossed, brows raised in something close to admiration. “huh.”

kaminari tilts his head. “so that’s just...how it is?”

katsuki doesn’t answer immediately.

he focuses on his food, chewing deliberately, as if debating whether this conversation is even worth his time. you know he hears them, though.

you can always tell when he’s listening, no matter how much he pretends not to.

kirishima rubs his chin thoughtfully. “that’s so manly, bakubro.”

katsuki scoffs, finally looking up, crimson eyes sharp.

kirishima waves him off, unfazed.

“nah, I mean it. I always thought you just had rules about personal space, but it’s not that. it’s just—you let her do whatever because she’s her.”

a pause.

katsuki clicks his tongue, shoving another bite of rice into his mouth, but his silence says more than words ever could.

you smile, resting a hand on his forearm. “he’s a little soft, but only for me.”

he glares at you. “I’ll kill you.”

“you won’t.”

his jaw ticks. you’ve won this argument before it even begins.

kaminari shakes his head like he’s watching something unfathomable. “man…you’ve got it bad.”

“I don’t ‘got’ anything,” katsuki grumbles, shoving his chopsticks into the rice with unnecessary force. “i just don’t see why you extras are actin’ so damn surprised.”

“you literally detest people touching you,” sero points out.

“yeah, people,” katsuki snaps. “she’s not ‘people.’ she’s my wife.”

and that’s the thing.

to them, it’s unusual. to them, it’s something to gawk at, something to be shocked by. but to katsuki, it’s just natural. it’s not about ‘privileges’ or exceptions—it’s just the way things are.

he’s never even thought to explain it, because there’s nothing to explain.

he doesn’t let anyone mess with his uniform, but you can straighten his collar.

he doesn’t let anyone borrow his things, but you can use his shampoo.

he doesn’t let anyone get too close, but you can curl up beside him and steal his warmth like you belong there.

because you do.

katsuki quirks an eyebrow, setting his chopsticks down. “you done interrogating me now?”

the others exchange glances, like they’re debating whether they’ve gotten enough material to fuel their endless teasing for the next month.

kirishima seems to understand there’s a line he shouldn’t cross—not because katsuki would explode (though, let’s be real, that’s still a possibility), but because this is something real.

kaminari, on the other hand, is kaminari.

“so, like…” he leans on the nearest desk, a slow grin spreading across his face. “if y/n asked you to wear, I dunno, a stupid matching sweater or something, you’d do it?”

katsuki barely spares him a glance. “no.”

kaminari looks at you. “he’s lying, right?”

you tilt your head, pretending to think. “hmm. well, he did wear that ridiculous apron I bought him last week.”

the entire office perks up.

katsuki’s expression darkens. “you said you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I said I wouldn’t tell anyone why you wore it.”

and the office rises in roars.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize