If I Die One More Time Because You Guys Say Some Fuck Shit, Youre Getting Banned.

“If I die one more time because you guys say some fuck shit, you’re getting banned.”

Kenma’s been on this boss for hours. Well, an hour and twenty three minutes, to be exact, as his recording time so graciously wouldn’t let him forget. In his chat, there’s a flurry of people who backseat him to tell him how to beat the boss (mods will take care of them later, but it’s still obnoxious), people laughing and a few encouraging comments being tacked on with some generous donations.

At this point, he just wants to end the stream and beat it in the focus of his own company.

But he won’t. Because it’s his job or whatever.

“Kenny?” A voice calls: your voice. Kenma softens and turns to the door, ignoring his character as it dies again. “I bought you some munchies since you didn’t answer my text.”

“Hey princess,” he hums, smiling and leaning his head back against the chair. “Sorry i didn’t get back to you, I’m in the fuckin’ thick of it. How was lunch?”

“It was good,” you say, smiling and bending down to kiss his nose. “The girls say hi and that they’ll watch later; whatcha doin’?”

Kenma gives you a groan of exhaustion, “I’m suffering, that’s what. This game is horrifically hard.”

“I told you it would be, Ken.” Despite your ‘I told you so’, he chuckles and puckers his lips out for a proper kiss, which you comply with happily. In your peripheral, chat spams with orange hearts- your designated emoji amongst his fans- and puke faces for the affection you two just shared.

He hums and pulls away softly, “you wanna give it a whirl? Maybe some new eyes will make this shit easier.”

“You’re the gamer in this dynamic babe,” you snort. Despite this, you scoot to the side so he can get up and switch places with you, watching with a smile as you get settled in his oversized chair.

Chat explodes with an absolute inflation of orange hearts, flowing a mile a second, and it makes you smile to be seen in such a positive light, even if this is far from the first time they’ve seen or supported you.

“Hi guys!” You say eagerly, grabbing the controller while he leans over the back of the chair. The chat quickly fills up with words of wisdom and “GOOD LUCKS!” while Kenma plants a kiss to your cheek. “What do I have to do?”

“Basically just beat the boss; I’ve found that kinda breaking the game by rolling behind the boss and then pressing ‘y’ for the super attack is best, but hey. I’ve also been stuck on this boss since you left, so I don’t really know anything.”

“Thanks for the help,” you snort, but with a roll of your shoulders to get comfortable, you take on the task.

And it goes well! For the first few seconds.

Slowly then after, it turned into you running away from the boss and blaming Kenma- in your defense, he likes his buttons to do certain things, it’s different than you are used to!- while all along, trying to roll behind the boss to swing at his back.

It’s very amusing to everyone but you.

“How are you so bad at this?” He cackles, and you quickly try to shush him.

“Shut up!” You giggle, shaking your head. Your character lays a slash of their sword, but the game doesn’t seem to register it- if anything, your character gets the hit.

“No! Fuck!” You cackle out a whine, while behind you Kenma tugs at his hair in amused disbelief.

“Please- dear god, I will buy you a ring right now if you just get one hit on this boss-“

“DONT SAY THAT!” You whine, hands immediately starting to shake as you tap mercilessly on the buttons, cheeks ablaze while the grin on your face refuses to falter.

This, to your distracted dismay, causes chat to explode, taking your already shaky focus and making it somehow less existent.

dankondits: you’re making the poor lady stressed!

notakodzukenfan: I’ll marry her no cap-

notemmyrosee: 🧡🧡🧡

slobonthyknob: Kodzuken simp, confirmed???

lasagnahypeeee: our baby streamer growing up ;-;

corner.of.internet: when she’s bad at video games but still a 10>>>>

Thank you kuroosassscheek for the 15000 bits: BUY THE WOMAN A RING BEFORE I DIE OF OLD AGE!

“Kuroo, not helping!” You whine, cheeks an absolute scorch while all Kenma does behind you is snicker. Traitor.

Between the absolute unsupportive nature of your boyfriend and all eyes of the Internet being on you as you fail over and over again, you finally cave and give up.

With a pout, you plant the controller back on the desk, letting the opponent hit you with its many attacks, all the while your character grunts in pain. You must look like a child, because the next thing you feel is Kenma’s lips against your cheek, and it causes that pout to finally break up. “You did good,” he praises. “It’s a hard boss; I’m glad you tried it.”

“Me too,” you confess. You lean in to give him a proper kiss, laughing into it as Kenma holds his large hand up, as if to shield the affection from his watchful viewers. You part with a nudge of his nose, and when his hand comes down, you lace your fingers with his. “It was fun, but I think I’ll leave the gaming to you.”

slimesloppy_: EWWWWWWWW

bosscat867: awww dad’s in love 🧡🧡🧡

razzledazzletoes: UR A COUPLE OF SLUTS!!

zedlerlover: use protection kids

anameicantpronouce: 🧡🧡🧡

blitznbawls: 🧡🧡🧡

brucespringsteendaddy: follow for more tips and tricks

tinytivvies: mrs kodzuken 🧡🧡🧡

“Fair enough,” he chuckles, standing back up to let you slip out of the gaming chair. Your eyes avoid chat, you see all the laughing stickers scrolling though, and you shake your head as your hands reach for the headset.

“Alright chat. Here’s Kodzuken. Hope you enjoyed the interlude.” You push up and out of the chair, letting Kenma slip right in and take your spot. As you turn to leave, you offer him one last call- “oh! When you do buy that engagement ring, I expect no less than 6 karats.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” he scoffs, watching you leave with a cheesy smile on his face. He turns back to the camera and slips his headset back on, “dummy. Got you one with 10, you think this is my first day?”

Chat once again explodes with excitement while Kenma merely smirks and goes back to his game, looking at the boss with new eyes and the chat focused on something else.

head over heels — shoyo hinata

summary — at an msby match, shoyo hinata catches your eye. apparently, you catch his too.

pairing — shoyo hinata x gn!reader

warnings — none

word count — 1k

author’s note — this was meant to be a drabble??

Shoyo Hinata literally falls for you.

The Black Jackals are dominating the match–unsurprising for a team known for their aggression, of course. But from your courtside seat, everything is so much more real. You’re almost among the players–Atsumu Miya performs his signature serve just a few feet away and you can see every wrinkle on his shirt.

Every detail on the players’ faces becomes crystal clear. Every point lost is so much more devastating. Every dive to save the ball is that much more dramatic.

There’s Shoyo Hinata. Number twenty-one. Down here, his charm radiates outwards like rays from the sun. He beams triumphantly after a successful spike and your heart skips a beat. Pretty bronze eyes sparkle, wrinkling at the edges because that’s just how hard he’s smiling. You’ve had a soft spot for the opposite hitter ever since you started following the Jackals two years ago.

Keep reading

SECRET SANTA

akaashi x gn!reader | this is late but if u think about it it isn’t bc my own work secret santa forgot my present so i’ll be getting Mine late!

keiji’s only a little embarrassed that your secret santa wish list has become a suggested link on his laptop’s home page.

30 dollar maximum. no asking who other people got. have it ready for after the christmas weekend.

he figured it wouldn’t be that hard to find something for anyone—a wine glass set, a sweater, maybe a couple of books. but as soon as he drew your name on his phone, he turned it off and threw it onto the carpet in front of his bed.

because of course. of course it would be you: his months-long workplace crush. it became part of his routine to check if you updated your wish list for the first couple of days, and as soon as you did he threw his phone again. in the end he probably chose the hardest wish to find, sure, but he knew it’d be worth it.

walking into work, keiji held the carefully wrapped present with both hands. the office was chattier than usual, and he offered polite smiles on his way to your desk—a spot he’s had memorized since you first asked him to show you how to use the office printer. he spots you leaning against the wall with your friend. the both of you are laughing over something, and keiji can't tell if he's imagining things when a sun beam hits you perfectly; he wonders if it's making your smile brighter or if he just really likes you.

his pace falters at the sight and it's almost comical how he trips over air. cheeks flushed, he slows down and hopes you notice him a few feet away so he won't have to intrude.

the wish doesn’t take long to be fulfilled when your eyes flicker over to a new figure off to the side. he lifts his hand a little to wave and greets you softly, “hi.”

realizing it’s him, you grin. “oh, hi! just the guy i was waiting for.”

your friend says goodbye to the both of you, knowingly. but keiji doesn’t seem to register them as he blinks and furrows his brows at your words. “sorry?”

"i was waiting for you to walk by." you shuffle over to your desk and bend down to reach for something underneath. it doesn’t take a lot to figure out what’s going on, but he still holds his breath and stares. you weren’t the kind of person to pull a prank about secret santa, but what if for some god forsaken reason you did? or maybe he was imagining things and dreaming, running late to work because he hadn't actually woken up yet.

keiji's heart beats faster as you fix your outfit and stand back up, holding out a bag with a smile. “this is yours.”

the same smile falters when you don’t get a response, and it turns to shock when you look down at the box in keiji’s hands, your name carefully written in cursive on the top. “is that…” the both of you keep looking from each other to the presents before you finally ask, “did we get each other?”

keiji flounders for another second before laughing nervously. “i guess we did.”

“oh. oh! um, well, i hope you like it. it was on your wish list but i got the cover separately,” you explain as the both of you maneuver to exchange. inside his bag, keiji finds the sequel for his current favourite book series, as well as a crocheted book cover. it’s the same colour palette as the book cover, and he smiles at the heart placed on its center. there's a handmade card behind both and makes a mental note to read it later.

“oh my god, keiji. i’ve been wanting this for so long. how'd you kn—” he looks up from his present to see you react to your own, cutting yourself off when you realize what you were about to say. you look at each other and he can’t help himself from asking, “were you going to ask how i knew?”

“no?"

"are you sure?"

"stop.” you cover your face with your hands. peaking through your fingers, you can see the amusement on his face. “stop–don’t look at me like that. stop smiling,” you groan, face heating up.

keiji’s lips and voice waver. “i’m not smiling.”

“yes you are.” you laugh and hit his shoulder. he laughs with you, putting his hands up in surrender. "it was a lucky guess, that's all."

"god," you laugh breathily again. “seriously, though. thank you.”

“thank you, too. i’m excited to read it and the cover’s really pretty," he replies while fiddling with the little closing flap.

"i'm glad you like it. i don't really know the plot but y'know, if you wanna talk about it with me, i'm all ears."

keiji hesitates, and scratches the back of his ear. "i could lend you the first book if you wanted to read it?"

"oh." the offer shocks you a little. "really?"

"yeah, you can just, uh, ignore my notes and tabs and stuff." he thinks about the little comments and analyses he's left in the page margins, how you'd see his half-asleep, messily written "this is really important" that was never built on when he woke up. he cringes a little, but the opportunity's presented itself and he won't take it back.

you furrow your brows and tilt your head. "your—did you annotate it?" he nods.

"is it colour-coded and everything?" he nods again, bashfully this time.

"wow, okay, why would i ignore them?" you ask. at that, he blinks and can't muster a response.

"akaashi keiji if you don't give me a legend to what each colour means so i can fully understand your annotations i'm going to be so mad," you say with a joking frown. but the request is genuine and keiji's heart flutters as he laughs in disbelief. "i—yeah. yeah, okay, i'll make sure to put one in the cover then."

after that, there's a natural lull in the conversation and you take a breath. you go to speak again, and it's obvious you're probably going to say some sort of "see you later," and keiji panics.

"and, um," he starts. you startle but look at him, and he thinks he really might rather melt into the floor than face your rejection. he opens and closes his mouth, trying to find the words he’s wanted to ask for weeks, and he thinks he must look like an idiot. but your gaze only softens and you offer him a reassuring smile.. "i…sorry. but if you aren’t busy, would you like to join me for dinner later?

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @idontlikeyourjob @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtc @dimslover @kuroaka @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt

To Capture A Demon's Heart

Mammon lovers I bestow upon you my apology fic. Please, rise up and come get your boy.

I fell for him a bit more writing this frfr

Pairing: gn!reader x Mammon (romantic feelings heavily implied, no established relationship, but don't you worry - you're working on that)

TW: Mention of Lucifer's punishments, Uhuhuh awkward discussion of infernal courting behaviors, mentions of violence, lmk if there''s anything else to add, ty!

Word Count: ~5,000

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

On the rug before you lay two options: “The Wicked Woes of Demonessa” or “To Capture a Beating Heart”. 

You flip over both DVD cases to skim their synopses, fingers trailing over the printed leads in all their infernal glory. You snort to yourself at the crossroads Asmodeus has supplied you with and wonder which would be better: an all-demon romance or a demon-human romance?

Ah-actually, the question should be: which would be easier to convince Mammon to watch with you?

The answer, as always, is neither. But that won't stop you from trying.

You shake your head, a smile pulling at your lips at the thought of how he'll react to your movie selection tonight. He's late, but with good reason, so you'll forgive him. Punishment by Lucifer is punishment enough. 

You kneel up from your position on the floor, rubbing out the pins and needles that had started to form. When all feeling returns to you, you reach under your bed to drag out the thick faux fur blanket Mammon had gifted you for your birthday this year. Custom-made, a pattern of your favorite hideously-cute zombie iguana plushies are plastered across the golden spread. You push your face into the fabric, its velvety softness tickling your skin, and inhale. It smells of the same smoky cedarwood that sticks to his skin. 

You toss it onto your bed and climb up after. One-by-one you adjust your pillows so that they rest upright against the mossy wall and face the TV. You take care to put more support on your side, anticipating he'll eventually stop resisting and cuddle up to you as he often does. When you're finally satisfied with the distribution, you hop off the bed to snatch your wallet from the table nearby. You dig inside until your finger bumps into what you're looking for; a golden grimm coin. 

Both titles are appealing enough that you're impartial to either, so you'll just do a coin toss. You're more interested in the cute expressions Mammon will show you tonight anyway. 

You flip the coin off your thumb, catch it in your palm, and lay it flat on the back of your hand. You lift your palm and grin - it's head. “The Wicked Woes of Demonessa” it is. 

A knock sounds at your door.

"Hey, Human, It's me. Open the door!" You hum to yourself, bending down to pick up just one of the DVDs. You stash both your wallet and “To Capture a Beating Heart” into your backpack and plop it into the chair farthest from the bed. You look over your room one more time and nod before walking over to open the door.

There waits your pouty demon, hair all mussed up with arms crossed over his broad chest. 

"Some nerve you got, making me wait!" He huffs. You flash him a toothy smile, tugging him inside by his elbow and shutting the door behind him.

"Happy to see you too, Mam." A light flush rises to his cheeks.

"Y-yeah..happytoseeyatooidiot," he grumbles. "Did'ya pick out a movie yet?" His eyes skitter away from you to appraise your set-up. 

Dimmed fairy lights, honey-scented candle sticks lit on golden candelabras, and the golden pendant he'd gifted you during your first year in the Devildom rests proudly over the collar of your pajama shirt. Everything is intentional. Everything is for him. 

"Sure did!" You saunter over towards your bed and bend over to pick up the DVD case from off the rug. You go to open the case, but a lack of following footfalls distracts you. You look over your shoulder to find him fidgeting in the middle of your room. 

You frown. "What's wrong Mam?" 

"W-what's that smell?" His eyes flicker to and fro, scanning your space for the source.  

"Uh, well I lit some scented candles. If they're too sweet for you I can turn them off, no problem." You toss the case onto your bed before heading for the coffin-shaped bookshelf in the back. You pick through a small black lace basket filled with spell tools you're borrowing from Solomon. 

You forget sometimes how heightened their senses are compared to yours. 

"You don't gotta go making a big deal out of it. A little sweetness ain't nothin' to the Great Mammon."  He chuckles loud and proud, but you catch the way he clenches his fists at his side.

"It "ain't nothin'" if it bothers you, Mam." You admonish. You finally find the candle snuffer and lift it out of the basket. "Your comfort is my priority, alright?"

He sputters, eyes wide, and you shoot him a soft smile as you move over to the first candelabra. "Really, it's no trouble."

Before you can snuff out the first candle stick, a firm hand wraps around your wrist. "Nah, s'fine. I..I like it." Your heart does a little flip at the admission, but as you glance down at the back of his hand you frown. 

"Aw, what happened here?" Your free hand traces the indentations pressed into his skin. They aren't too deep, but they seem a little aggravated. 

"Tsch," he releases you to shove both his hands into his jacket pockets. A slight crinkle catches your attention as they settle into the tight space, but you'll worry about that later. 

"Hey, none of that. No hiding." You place the snuffer onto the table and turn to him. You hold out your hands, palms up, and wait. Mammon can only shuffle his feet and avoid your eyes for so long.

"He's getting all creative now! Damn sadist."

You purse your lips and sigh out of your nose. Lucifer only had his brother's best interests in mind, but his methods could be awfully draconian at the worst of times. You'd seen in the group chat this morning that Mammon had tried to sell photos he sneaked out of Diavolo's private chambers. You haven't a clue of how he got past Barbatos of all beings, but you don't put it past him, he certainly is one of the most driven individuals you'd ever met. Undoubtedly, Mammon tested his luck and crossed several boundaries, but your heart aches for him. He's always hated sharing the weakest parts of himself.

"We don't have to talk about it. Will you just let me help you out a bit?" You bat your eyelashes when he finally meets your gaze. He scoffs and shrugs his shoulders.

"Can't keep your hands off me, can ya?" You quirk a brow at him, a knowing look on your face. You start to lower your hands slowly, purposefully.

"That's alright, Mam. I wouldn't want to force you." Before your hands can drop to your side, he clutches them in his own.

"Who said anything about force?! See," his hands squeeze your own, "all good to go." You drag your thumbs over the knuckles encasing your own.

"Go ahead and sit down, I'll join you in a sec." You gesture to the bed and your heart does happy little flips when he gravitates straight to the zombie-iguana blanket.

"Ya still got tha damn thing?" The question comes out soft, too soft, that you wonder if it was for you to begin with.

"Course I do. My first man gave it to me!" You can't stop yourself from laughing at the way his shoulders shoot up to his ears.

"Y-yeah," he attempts to catch himself as you walk back over to the bookshelf and dig into another basket, "It was a hassle to get it made, so don't go lettin' anybody else mess with it."

"Don't worry," you tease from the other side of the room. You can't resist the opportunity to rile up his greed, "I only take it out for our movie nights."

Sparing his dignity, you don't look up from the basket as you hear him choke a bit. When he calms down you grab the lotion-salve you'd made about a week ago, good for healing any minor wounds. Smelling of bergamot with hints of lavender, it's your proudest achievement thus far.

"Actually, speaking of our movie nights...," you stand and make your way over to the bed. Already, he's shoved off his jacket and shoes, making himself at home among the pillows. As your eyes scan his toned arms you're reminded that you quite literally have a model in your bed.

"This is the first one we've had in a while, huh?" He spreads his legs as you come closer, signaling for you to sit in between them. As you join him, his eyes soften and he holds out his hands for you to take. You're humbled by the trust he places in you.

You squirt some lotion into your hand and rub your palms together to warm it up before you reach for him. He sniffs the air and sits up a bit.

"The hells that?" 

You cock your head. Does he really not like the smell this time?

"You mean the lotion?"

"Yeah! Did Asmo give you that? I don't want that flowery shit." Ah, the real issue isn't the lotion itself . Rather, that another demon may have given it to you. Despite the laugh begging to spill forth from your lips, you manage to cool your expression.

You slowly massage the cream into your skin, biting your lip at the low warning growl that leaves him. You just had to be sure. "No, Mam. Asmodeus didn't give this one to me. I made it myself." His posture relaxes considerably.

That is, until you open your mouth again.

"But, if you don't like the smell I can go give it to him. He'd probably like it, right? I can go real qu-" You don't get to finish your sentence as his hand grasps the front of your shirt, tugging you forward until you're trapped in his arms.

"Ya ain't goin nowhere."  Goosebumps prick at your skin in response to this growl. It's not a warning. It's daring you to try your luck. You move quickly to return his embrace, smoothing your hands over his backside to reassure him. "You're stayin' here with me, understand?" Warmth flows through you from head to toe. 

"So, you don't find the scent completely and utterly repulsive?" Your hands trail upwards to massage his shoulders, pushing and prodding the tense muscles. He flinches, but doesn't stop you. 

"Ah, hold on!" Something clicks as he snaps back from you, holding you back by your shoulders. "Nobody said anythin' about being repulsed! Who said they're repulsed? Not me!" 

"Oh, good!" You pull his hands off your shoulders, dropping them onto your lap as you reach over for the lotion. Again, you warm it up between your hands. "Then just sit still, alright?"

He goes down quietly, too quietly, that you make sure to watch his face for any discomfort as you reach for the first hand. A touch to his skin surprises you. His hand is rougher than you expect, but you mask your curiosity and don't hesitate to place your hands atop his. The last thing you want is for him to recede into himself when you've finally gotten this far into whatever is happening between the two of you. You can ask about the rough calluses on his palm another day.

You start with the lines indented over his fingers, carefully kneading the skin as he hisses under his breath. His eyes, a blend of ocean and golden sun, remain transfixed on where your skin meets. But, his face is marred by a deep frown that makes your blood run cold. Did you overstep somewhere? 

"What's running through your mind?" You work your way onto his palm, tenderly rubbing the faded scars littered across the expanse of skin. The lotion can't heal something that has already come to pass. Nor can you, but you'll hold him here for as long as he'll let you. 

A sigh leaves him. "Don't go treatin' me like I'm fragile. I'm supposed to protect you, got it?"

 He's right, he's not fragile. Beneath the glamor he's taut, tough skin, with sharp fangs and leathery wings that could tear you to shreds. But, he's also the same demon who seeks you out for comfort after punishments or a big loss at the casino. The same demon who sits through horror movies if it means he'll have an excuse to spend the night with you. The demon who would truly do anything you asked of him - and that's not a power you wield lightly. 

You pat his hand with a smile to let him know you're finished and hold out your hands for him once more. You'll let him decide if he wants to continue.

"Hey, don't you dare ignore me!" Plopping his hand into yours immediately defeats the tough tone he's put on. You start from the top and repeat the motion, fingers to palm. A rush of boldness overcomes you as you press into the callouses. You adore this demon. You wish he could see himself the way you see him. 

"I know you're not fragile, Mam." You finish up the massage, but don't let go. You watch as the indentations gradually fade into even skin. "But, you're precious to me. I treasure what's precious to me. You get that, don't you?" 

Your stomach drops as silence greets you. At the very least, you think, it's a good sign that he hasn't pulled his hand away from you. You drop both of your hands into your lap and fidget with his fingers.

"You mean that?" You never knew Mammon's voice could sound so meek. 

You lift your eyes to his, grasping his hand tightly between your own. Wide eyes, mouth parted, and brows furrowed. Even like this, he's a vision.

"I mean it, Mam." 

At once, his cheeks are aflame. "I-you!" He stammers. A laugh rips from your chest, relieved that he didn't a) run out of the room or b) hide away from you. You want to tease him more, but you hold back. Instead, you reach over to pick up the DVD from off your comforter and savor this milestone between the two of you.

"Ready for the movie?" You ask, getting up from the bed.

"Huh? Oh that, yeah, yeah." He seems a bit dazed. 

"You feeling ok?" You lean over, lifting your hand to feel his forehead, but his hand catches yours before you reach him. 

"I'm fine! The hell we watching anyway?" You use your free hand to show him the DVD cover. The two demonic leads stand before each other, hand in hand, leaning in for a kiss under the title. 

"The Wicked Woes of Demonessa?!" He sounds exasperated. "W-where'd you get that junk?! We ain't watching that!"

"What, why not?" You pout, giving him puppy dog eyes.

"That's some mind poison! All it's good for is rottin' ya brain." He snarls, but you know you've got him. A little nudging is all he needs.

"Oh." You sigh, purposefully. "Well, if you don't want to watch it with me, I'm sure Beel or Mo wouldn't mind." "Like he-" "Or-" You counter before he can start running his mouth. "We can watch another movie I borrowed as a back-up."

Mammon eyes you suspiciously. "What other movie are ya hidin', human?"

You have to be a little evil in this back-and-forth or you'll never get anywhere. So, you shuffle over to the TV stand and grab the unopened DVD case resting next to the DVD player. You show him the cover and watch as he immediately recoils.

"ARE YA CRAZY?!" He shrieks. A myriad of ghosts with tormented expressions erupt from the house that rests above the title that reads: The Horrible Haunting of Hollow Hill Manner. 

"What?" You ask like it's not the most peculiar and pointed selection to ensure you two watch your movie of choice this evening.

"What?" He mocks your casual tone. "Who're ya borrowin' that from?"

"Satan." Your smile comes easy. "He recommended this one, it's a murder mystery that takes place in a haunted house. Apparently, it's based on a true story."

"A TRUE WHAT?!" He throws the fur blanket over himself, leaving only his head submerged. 

"Mammon," you snort, "you're literally one of the most powerful beings in existence. Fourth most powerful in all the Devildom."

You can't see his chest puff up, but you know him well enough to know it does. 

"E-exactly!" He exclaims. "I can take on anything. Some cheap old trick movie like that won't scare me, nuh-uh, it'll  just be a snoozefest."

"I see," you smirk, "then some cliche romance flick shouldn't be too bad, right? Wouldn't want you falling asleep on me." Hook, line, and sinker.

You pay Mammon's complaints no mind as you open the DVD case and pull out the disk. You pop it into the DVD player, thrilled you get to watch a classic demonic romance unfold. You've been curious for some time now about how romance in the Devildom differs from the Human Realm. The plot seemed entertaining enough, but really you were curious about the customs. You wanted to woo him on his terms, in a way he couldn't blow off as some human schtick. 

You press play and pad back over to your bed. He's pouty, so you decide to sit next to him and hold out on getting under the blanket with him.You'll wait until the mood passes and give him his space.You can feel his stare digging into you as the opening soundtrack plays, but you manage to keep your focus on the screen. For a couple of minutes you two sit like this.

"Why're ya bein' like that?" He accuses.

"Like what?" You snap your head to him, eyes widening as you see him sit up, blanket falling off his shoulders and into his lap.

"Distant." He huffs, looking away from you. "Y-you said you treasure what's precious to ya, right?" 

Your heart is about to fucking explode. You don't waste a minute, wrapping your arm around his and tugging at him to face you. 

"You looked upset, so I wanted to give you your space." You utter, softly. "Would you be ok if I joined you under the blanket?" 

He scoffs, lifting the blanket up and over you. "Like ya even hav'ta ask." Earlier in the night than you've anticipated, he cuddles into your side with his head resting on your chest. You can't read his face from this angle, but a subdued purr rumbling through him assures you he's comfortable. 

You two sit like this throughout the first half of the movie. It's an interesting premise concentrated on the love between a demon of nobility and a commoner of great strength who has been hired to train the noble in the art of war.  Later on, it's revealed that the commoner's unprecedented strength is due to them being an illegitimate child of a Great General of the East. The noble's father, a Recordkeeper, has hidden away documents proving the commoner's lineage at their father's request. Thus, they come to the castle under the guise of an instructor and soon find their plans disrupted when they begin to fall for the Recordkeeper's heir. 

Your curiosity is piqued as displays of what you presume is affection come onto the screen. "Hey Mam, I thought they liked each other, so why are they wrestling like that right now?"  

It's a more violent display than you expect, but you're entranced as their jaws snap, teeth are bared, and claws dig into skin. The leads throw each other against any surface within the weapon storehouse, stopping the other before they can plan an escape.  You look down at Mammon to find him hiding his face into your shirt, the tips of his ears tinged red.

"It's a show of strength." He mumbles into your shirt.

"A show of strength...," you repeat thoughtfully, "is that common in courtship here?"

Mammon groans, hiding further into your shirt. "I don'wanna talk about this. Don't they teach ya shit like that in your Demon Studies course or somethin'?"

"Unfortunately, no. The topic has never come up." Demon Studies has solely focused on social, political, and institutional relationships within the Devildom. Nothing interpersonal as far as you can remember.

"What?! Well they should, some silly 'ol human isn't gonna just pick up on that." 

"Well," you drag your fingers through his hair, "think you could enlighten me?" 

He peeks up at you with a glare. "Whad'ya wanna know?" The topic seems sensitive, so you tread lightly.

"Could you tell me what a common courtship is like here? You don't have to be detailed or anything. Like, are there steps?" Most of the romance movies you've seen during your time here have been pirated by Leviathan from the human realm. 

Again, Mammon hides his face from you. You are about to suggest you two move past the topic when he finally speaks up.

"Yeah. Yeah there are steps." You stay silent, but keep running your hand through his hair.

"Y'noticed how the noble started sendin' letters? Or how once they got a response from the sword swinger they started includin' trinkets or whatever with 'em?" A moment of silence passes and he peeks up at you. It hits you that he's waiting on you to respond.

You smile bashfully. "Oh, yes! Yes, I noticed."

He huffs. "It started then. Goin' all out with gifts, tryin' to impress each other like lunatics."

"Are trinkets usually given?" You ask.

"Mm," he hums, "yeah, but gifts are as varied as demons. Some prefer other things: food, poems, flowers, the heart of your greatest enemy, buncha stuff."

"Huh-" Did you hear that correctly? 

"The heart of your greatest enemy?" You parrot.

"What, ya sayin' humans don't do that anymore?" You shake your head. 

"None that I've met at least." You don't doubt that humans have done it at some point in time, but it sounds more like some distant wartime practice from the Middle Ages or earlier. 

"Still happens here. It's a show of strength and dedication, proof ya can kick any ass that comes threatinin' your potential mate." He seems to be relaxing more and more as you delve deeper into the topic. 

"So, the wrestling...?" 

"Show of strength. They're pretty equally matched, even though the lovebirds run in different circles. Makes 'em decent partners at least." You feel your mind expanding with the revelation that this scene is way deeper than you've realized. Despite the commoner's standing, they've been in control for most of the wrestling match. 

"Ooooh!" You take a minute to ponder. 

"So, demons won't usually go for someone weaker than them?"

"Bingo."

You wonder what this means for you two. You certainly aren't as strong enough as a demon, and especially not as strong as the Avatar of Greed. 

You lose your train of thought as Mammon sits up more to face you, poking you in the forehead.

"Doesn't mean they never will." You relax your face at his touch, you hadn't realized it was scrunched up so much. 

"It's not all about how tough ya are. It's 'bout how they make ya feel too. A courtship is pretty serious stuff, you don't pursue somethin' that intense with just any old schmuck."

Mammon's eyes follow your hand as it reaches to fiddle with the golden pendant he gifted you. In the middle lies some gemstone you can't find in the human world. It's clear with specks of gold and blue. He blushes and coughs into his fist.

"If it continues after that, it gets pretty serious pretty fast. Ya start scentin' each others stuff, which is a pretty ballsy move."

Your eyebrows jump up at this unexpected development. "Scenting...?"

"Yeah, puttin' your scent out so they know who ya belong to. No human nose is gonna pick up on somethin' subtle like that, but it's there." Wait, so does that mean-

"Is the house scented? Can it just be anything?" Mammon looks at you as if you've just grown another head.

"Huh?! No!" Embarrassment warms your cheeks.

"Why would we go wastin' energy like that? That's crazy. If anything is scented, it's intentional and nothin' time consumin'." You shrug your shoulders.

"Ah, ok. I didn't know." You fiddle some more with the pendant, looking away from him.

"Ack, no don't feel bad!" His face is just as flushed as yours, but he continues. "You didn't ask anything stupid. There's no way ya could've known!" You can't stop the giddy grin that pulls at your lips as he attempts to comfort you. You face him again.

"So, what happens next? If you're already doing something like that, aren't you practically together?" 

"Practically, but not officially." He grumbles. "Buncha kids go around scentin' each other thinkin' they're in love. The scent fades as fast as the feelin's." He runs a hand through his hair with a sigh.

"It's official when ya make it official. A spoken agreement between partners. No bullshittin'."

"That's it?" You try to sidestep the microscopic lens of human tunnel vision, but a spoken agreement feels less official than marriage in the human world. Joint assets, joint families, and rings as proof of being claimed.

"Whad'ya mean "that's it?"?! All and everything you really feel. Ya gotta say it and ya gotta mean it. It's a bindin' contract that's a bitch to ever try and break." It clicks for you then. A demon's word is binding.

"Like a pact, but for romantic partners?"

Mammon ponders for a moment before he nods. "That's not too far off. Little more goes into it, but it's complicated." The lull that comes after feels like the end of the conversation, so you take your chance.

"Mammon, has anyone tried courting you before?"

"Hah, of course!" His grin is as smug as it always is. "Who wouldn't want to take a chance to be with The Great Mammon?" He laughs to himself, but you wonder-

"Have you ever accepted an attempt?" You're curious.

"Uh-" The question catches him off guard. "Y-yeah. A handful of times, but it never went anywhere." You're a little disappointed, but you swallow down your pride. It would be more concerning if he'd never tried to find love throughout the milleniums he's lived. 

You shift your line of questioning. You'd rather focus on the present and this momentous opportunity lined up before you.

"So, say I were to get you something. What would you like?" You've never seen his head whip around so fast, truly inhuman speed as he jumps back from you and slams into the headboard.

"The hell, MC?!" His face, ears, and what you can see of his neck, everywhere is flushed at your implication. This is just as embarrassing for you, but you feel emboldened by the security of your room, the sweet scent of honey in the air, and the declarations of love coming from the movie that still runs in the background.

"What about a pendant to match mine? Would you wear something like that if I got it for you?" You've come so close. You won't give up now. 

"W-why would I want somethin' like that?" You know it's a deflection. He wouldn't have stayed with you, here and now, if it wasn't. But, you're tired of it. You only want it if he wants it too. No bullshitting, right?

"Nevermind then, Mam. Don't worry, I won't get you anything. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." You reach for the remote that fell to the floor during all the commotion. "We don't have to finish the mo-"

You squeal in shock as Mammon throws himself into you. It's enough force to knock you back onto the pillows sprawled all over. You're speechless as he hides his face into your neck. He's never gotten this close to you. 

"S'fine." His grip on you tightens. "A matching necklace, s'good."

You can't contain yourself. "Mam, look at me."

He hums but doesn't move.

"Mammon, look at me." You're gentle with him as you cup his cheeks. 

"Seriously, you would accept it?" 

"Now you're just bein' cruel. I said it's good, didn't I?!" You can feel the sting of tears building. You don't think you've ever been this happy. 

You rub your thumbs over his cheeks. "Hey, Mam?"

"Whatd’ya want now?" 

"Can I kiss you?"  

In an instant, you're pressed back into the pillows, Mammon's lips on yours. It's not fireworks like humans talk about, nor the clashing of fangs as demons might do. It's tender and filled with a longing buried deep within the soul. It's messy. It's unexpected. It's perfect. 

You pull back to catch your breath and are touched by the unshed tears in Mammon's glassy eyes. It seems the sensation was mutual.

"I love you, Mam." 

You can figure out what this means for you two going forward tomorrow. You can ask about the callouses on his hands or for the stories of hardship behind the scars. You can discuss where courtships went wrong for you both, talk through your communication struggles, and love each other openly without fear. You're just so happy, really, that he'll let you love him. 

"I love ya too, MC."  He settles back into your arms, and you two lay there for some time, movie all but forgotten.

It's when the credits roll that Mammon shoots up, rushing to grab his jacket.

"Ah, shit!" He digs into his jacket pockets, pulling out a couple bags of hellfire twists. Your shared favorite movie treat.

"I meant to give this to ya earlier. So, ya know, we could have a snack during the movie." You chuckle at him as he rubs the back of his neck.

"We still can. Ever heard of ``To Capture a Beating Heart”?"

Headcannon, that if something happened to upset them, there would be more people to comfort Deku than Katsuki.

Words. 1.0k~

Notes. I'm sorry I always write bakugou so sad, but hey, it gets me the notes. I hope this makes up for not posting much bakugou content in awhile.

Several years after his unexpected retirement, the crushing death of All Might shook the world once again.

It was no quiet affair, people from all around the globe came together to pay their respects for the fallen hero. His loyal students made certain that everything the Symbol of Peace sacrificed for the people he loved would never be forgotten.

Standing amongst the hundreds of solemn people dressed in black like ants at his funeral, made you realize just how small and insignificant you really are.

The selfless actions of one man led to the gratitude and inspiration of so many when he did everything in his power to leave this world, better than it was when he first came into it.

While you didn't know him personally, you met him through your friends from high school. Sweet, bubbly Midoriya who you went to school with, would never miss an opportunity to ramble on and on about his childhood hero.

Seeing him grieve now made a wave of sadness envelop your heart in a choke hold. His regularly bright, emerald eyes that held all the worlds hope in them, glistened with shed and unshed tears.

The great Symbol of Peace's successor wept for his fallen mentor, along with his friends who mourned with him.

Rain began to pour from the skies as you moved to join them. A melancholy smile worked its way onto your face at the irony. It seemed as if the heavens itself lamented at the loss.

You silently thanked the weatherman for being accurate in his predictions for once as you unfolded your umbrella.

The others around you did the same, some deciding that it was a sign to leave and retreated to their cars. Looking around, you paused when you caught sight of one figure hunched over near the lavishly decorated tomb for the hero.

The distinct ash blonde head was unmistakable, and you noticed that his usually annoyingly sharp and messy hair was drooping sadly from the downpour and lack of an umbrella.

You spared a glance at Midoriya to see that he was not covered by just one, but multiple umbrellas from several people over his place on the ground. Even Kirishima and the rest of his closer friends were standing with him.

While Midoriya had more than a handful of people to rub his back comfortingly and murmurer reassuring words to him, ― you realized that no one seemed to notice just how hard it was on the #2 hero.

Everyone seemed to have forgotten that Deku was not the only hero mentored by their beloved champion.

He looked so fucking alone — abandoned.

Suddenly, you wanted to slap yourself for not noticing earlier. His dark clothes befitting the occasion were soaked through from the rain and stuck uncomfortably to his skin, and you didn't miss the way his shoulders shook with silent shudders.

It made you almost uncomfortable to see him like this, with his usual attitude, it felt utterly wrong to watch someone like him look so broken.

Even if offering to assist did get your ass hurled into the outer reaches of space, you couldn't sit idly by and watch him suffer like this.

You moved to make your way to him when he suddenly collapsed onto his knees. Startled, you hurried your pace, your breath catching in your throat when you saw the state he was in.

His hand was curled tightly in his hair in a way that looked painful, he looked up suddenly when you moved your umbrella over him. Your grip on it tightens when you see his eyes all glossy and red with tears, it makes the carmine of his irises look dull and lifeless.

Water runs in rivulets down the sides of his face, a mix of droplets falling from his hair and streaks of tears you couldn't really tell apart.

It made your chest hurt to see him like this as you carefully kneeled down next to him. How could you have not noticed earlier? You can only imagine how this whole situation must be eating up at him. You didn't know him as well as your other friends, but you've spent enough time with him to know just how much he looked up to the former symbol of peace.

His eyes never left yours as you both watched each other in silence. It seemed he couldn't even find it in himself to look angry at you for bothering him. He sounded so horribly fragile and on the verge of breaking down when he spoke, "What do you want, huh?" His voice cracked and he pulled tighter at his hair, "Shouldn't you be with Deku?"

A sudden cough racked through his body and that seemed to unleash another load of tears from his tired eyes. You watched him carefully and reached out to gently pry his hand from where it was twisted in his unruly hair.

It was rough with scars and trembled sorrowfully in your grasp and you squeezed it in what you hoped was a reassuring manner. He gasped out one last sob and met your eyes again.

"Oh Bakugou, it's ok to feel sad right now. I'm gonna be right here if you need me."

Bakugou stared at you, he looked terribly beautiful and miserable at the same time, and you swore that you would do anything too never see such an expression on his face ever again.

His lips trembled and you thought he was going to say something when a sudden tremble shook through his body, and he chocked out another sob. His head drooped towards you almost violently, and you dropped your umbrella. Pulling him towards you and holding him on your arms as he gripped at your smaller figure tightly. Like you would crumble to dust before him if he let go.

The rain seeped through your black funeral gown and chilled your skin, but you only clutched him tighter. You would hold him as long as he needs. Until he feels whole again, until you never had to see his pretty red eyes look so dead ever again.

Your heart ached for the broken hero in your arms under a crying sky.

"The volleyball team doesn't have parties." Your eyes narrow at your friend. "To be fair no one at this school really has parties but least of all the volleyball team...What kind of prank are you trying to pull?"

"I'm not. But since they lost the inter-high and they're not going to nationals..." he leans over his side of the library table and drops his voice, "...the guess monster convinced the other third years to host a...thing...I don't know, something! Before we all graduate."

You roll your eyes. "He has a name."

"I know," snips your friend. He watches your gaze drop back to your book, picking up notes where you left off. "Well?"

"Well what?" you ask without looking up.

"Do you want to go?"

With a snort you reply "no."

"Aren't you the least bit curious about them?" His voice curls salaciously. "They're the elite--"

"Everyone at this school is an elite," you remind him.

"Of the elite," he amends. "C'mon...I know you've got a huge crush on-"

You slam your pen down and glare at him. "Finish that sentence and it'll be the last thing you ever say."

He smirks under your full attention. "Promise to go?"

"No." You smile derisively. "I have literally no interest and I won't be manipulated into going."

He huffs and drops the topic as you get back to work.

"Last chance to come," he prompts, stopping by your room later.

"No thanks," you reply without looking up from the line of text. He huffs admonishingly but leaves without further argument.

It's pleasingly quiet in the dorms.

You're sure most of the other students have gone to the volleyball team's event and it just reinforces your decision not to go.

You're not here to make friends.

You're not here to find yourself or your place in the world.

No, Shiratorizawa serves only one purpose for you.

It is a stepping stone.

An escape.

You've worked hard to get into the most prestigious high school, achieving the best marks while you're here to give yourself the highest launching point to get as far away from here as possible.

And from the way the options sprawl out before you, you're almost free.

Finding yourself will come after you find a way out.

Tokyo, Paris, London, Seattle; the acceptances have poured in and you can taste the finish line.

The freedom.

You won't jeopardize that with meaningless distractions.

Pouring your heart and soul into every subject, you've been recognized by almost every teacher you've had. Almost every peer, too. From those who've spent their whole academic career trying to catch you, drag you down, cheer you on, or chew you up. Your name is renowned.

Your future is envied.

"I told you I'm not going," you say sternly to the knock on your door.

"How do you know that's why I'm here?"

You jump with a gasp, turning sharply in your seat toward the door and see Tendō Satori leaning against your doorframe all lean muscle and cool confidence.

You scrutinize his lazy smile with a tight gaze. "Why are you here, then?"

"I didn't see you at the party." He crosses his arms, eyes never leaving yours. "I was curious what you were doing instead."

"Well," you gesture across your desk, turning back to it, "now you know."

He lingers in the doorway, not asking for your attention but distracting you all the same.

You ask stiffly "is there something else you wanted?"

"You."

Snap; the tip of your pencil breaks off in shock.

You're too embarrassed to look at him so you just stare at your books hearing the smirk in his voice.

"I was hoping I would have an excuse to cross your path, an opportunity to be subtle at the party but I should have known better."

Your heart's beginning to thrum.

Yes, you're aware of the guess monster. The eccentric genius whose personality and character are even more alluring than his performance on the court. But attraction is distraction and the future is uncertain so for the past three years you've ignored any curiosity toward the appealing red-head.

The fact that he's here now...what he's implying... you're not sure you believe it.

When you don't say anything he prompts "do you understand? I threw the party for a chance to hangout with you."

The concept of it is too tough to understand, like a lump in your throat.

"I...I understand..." you admit.

Can he hear how hard your pulse beats in the quiet?

"And?"

"And what?" You fight every urge to look at him.

"How does that make you feel?"

After a moment of sluggish consideration you reply "I'm...flattered...Tendō, really. I am. But, I need to study."

He hums from the doorway, unsatisfied. "That didn't really answer my question."

"I don't know how to answer it, then." You stare at the pencil in your fingers as you twist it. "Or maybe I don't understand what you're trying to ask."

"I'm asking if you'd like to hangout with me."

Of course you would.

The answer is right there on the tip of your tongue but it feels like saying it would puncture some intangible bubble, destroying the path to your future.

"Let me ask a different way," he says slowly, gently. "Can I...hangout with you?"

Your eyes flick to him with a frown because it has to be obvious that you're in the middle of studying right now and not interested in just hanging out.

That's when you notice his backpack.

He smiles wryly.

"You mean..." The creases of your frown deepen. "You..."

He nods. "Can I study with you?"

"Why would you want to do that?" you ask, face screwing up as you gesture. "There's a party going on right now with your friends. A party you literally organized."

"Only to spend time with you," he amends holding up a finger and you gape in exasperation.

"I don't know, Tendō." Rubbing your forehead you grimace. "It's..."

He waits patiently, far longer than anyone else would and you realize what you have to say is just that important to him.

With a slow, steadying breath you meet his eye and confess. "I don't want to stay here...I've worked hard all this time to escape...And I'm... scared..."

"Of stumbling on a reason to stay?"

Something clicks into place within you. Like a puzzle piece perfectly fitting with another, you feel seen.

Understood.

You nod.

He looks hesitant now, eyes still gauging your reactions. "What if...that reason... wasn't going to stay either."

Your chest tingles with implication but you hold it at bay again, denying the suggestion. "What do you mean?" you ask nervously.

Tendō cautiously straightens up as if facing something head-on. "What if...when you escape...you weren't alone? What if a reason to stay...became..."

"A commonality to leave?"

Tendō's eyes shine and he smiles, mirroring the pining hope dawning inside of you, too.

There's a flash of images through your mind: saying goodbye to family and friends, boarding a plane, walking down a cobblestone street with the Eiffel tower twinkling in the distance.

Your heart skips a beat because you've imagined these things before but, for the first time, you imagine you aren't alone.

"So..." He asks, failing to hold back a wry smile. "Can I join you?"