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vhstown · 9 months

Text

time out (part 1)

[boxer au] — 42!miles g morales x gn!reader

summary: Miles Morales makes boxing history. Your boyfriend isn't there to celebrate.

warnings: angst-ish, description of (boxing) injuries, self-destructive behaviours, briefly implied death, pov switch (yay), gtranslate spanish

word count: 3.9k

a/n: ive never written 42 miles before but he's a cool lil guy split into two parts cuz it was too long 😭 semi-edited (for the millionth time)

PART 2 → / THE AU

"Just six rounds in, Miles Morales knocks out the Vulture!"

Screams and cheers exploded from your phone as you laid in bed, watching the recap of your boyfriend's boxing match. Your eyes were straining from how close you were holding the screen to your face; this was probably the third time you’d watched Miles’ win. After training to hell and back, he’d made it to the national league with you and Aaron to support him. He did more than just “make it”, in fact. His “revolutionary” victory was plastered all over social media and the news. Everywhere you looked was: “17-YEAR-OLD NYC BOXER OVERTAKES LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION ‘VULTURE’ IN US NATIONALS”. Miles Morales — your boyfriend — had made boxing history.

The giddy grin on your face only grew wider as he came up again on screen, sporting the stoic expression he'd perfected over the last few months behind the overly-done editing and animations of the recap. As much as you'd wanted to go out and see him live (though begging your family to let you go to Vegas wasn’t exactly feasible), he'd made it clear he didn't want you, or anyone for that matter, in that arena. It was something about having "total focus" — and it must've worked, you thought, as you watched him give his post-fight interview.

“I jus’ hope you watchin’, cause I’m here. Miles Morales made it!”

Despite his boyish, adrenaline-fuelled shout at the mic, the quiet laugh you let out was one of pride rather than embarrassment. He had every right to celebrate, and you were watching, even if it wasn’t live. Everything he'd done up until this point was well worth it: the constant training, sparring, the late nights and early mornings — maybe even the countless unanswered texts and missed calls too. Miles had worked himself to the bone, and while it might've worried you at the time, it was nothing compared to the satisfaction you felt while watching him on screen. He knew what he was doing; Miles was semi-professional at this point. You had to let him do his own thing, even if that meant letting him go for a while.

Right now, though, Miles was home from Vegas. Tapping out of the video, you scrambled to your messages. The last ones were from you, sent weeks ago, a "good luck" and "i love you" read and without a response. Your fingers kept missing the keys, and you frowned at yourself until you finally were able to hit send.

CONGRATS BABY!!! Not delivered

IM SO PROUD OF YOU Not delivered

You tried resending them, only to be met with the same red message.

why arent my texts sending Not delivered

miles??? Not delivered

Not delivered? It'd almost been three days since the tournament; Miles always had his phone on.

"To leave a message, please press one—" The call went to voicemail for the third time. Your stomach swirled with something like uncertainty. It didn't even ring at all. Miles made it a habit to always be available, so why...?

Boxers needed time to recover, he was probably just tired and turned his phone off. Or he could be busy with an interview; Miles Morales was sort of a celebrity right now — who wouldn't want to talk to the 17-year-old boxing prodigy? You knew you wanted to, prodigy or not.

It was probably because you hadn’t seen Miles in so long, but possibilities kept forming in your head, disappearing just as fast. What if he blocked you? Or he could’ve changed his number. Were you over? No. Nope. No way. Not like this.

There was one other reason that made some sort of sense, but you decided to think against it. Miles had made it to the semi-finals in entire the National League. It was over; he'd gotten what he wanted. He was supposed to be resting right now.

Miles wasn't that stupid, right...?

You pulled up Rio's contact. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Riiiiiiing, riiiiiiing…

Better for him to be safe than sorry — or stupid.

"Hello?"

"Hola, tía, uh, could I speak to Miles?" You felt just a little crazy as you held the phone to your ear, but there was no harm in calling his mom.

"Ah, he's not home right now — said he was going out with his tío."

"Oh… Do you know where they went?"

"I'm not sure. Something important. About a... contract?"

"Contract…?" you muttered to yourself. “Okay… thank you.” It wasn't like you knew anything about a contract, though it wasn't like Miles would tell you anyway. At least he was safe, and with Aaron. It was probably important, official — something that didn't involve you. Not a lot of things in Miles’ life involved you, it seemed.

"How have you been?” Rio's voice interrupted your thoughts. You had called her out of nowhere, and after a while. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Oh, um..." The last time you'd talked to Rio was… right before Miles had left for Vegas. Well, you hadn't exactly talked. All you remember is just comforting her in silence. "Yeah, tía. Have you?"

"I have, but I've just been all over the place recently. So many reporters…" Rio's voice lifted up slightly in exasperation. You could only imagine what it was like for her. Your feelings suddenly felt a lot less significant, and you were back to your comforting mode all over again.

"I see. Must be exhausting." You attempted a polite laugh, which came out more like a sigh. If only you could be as patient as Rio…

"I'm so proud, though." Her voice warmed with a smile. If your chest ached with melancholy or empathy, you didn't know. "I didn't want him to leave home so soon. I still think this whole… professional thing is a bit too much, but… I want to trust him also."

"I'm sure he'll be fine, tía. If he's in the nationals already, he's probably getting a lot of support." It was more like you were trying to convince yourself. "I'm sure he has great coaches... and he's got me and Aar— uh, his uncle, too."

"I know…" For a moment, you weren't sure if either of you had anymore to say.

"…If not, I'll have to go there myself and give them a piece of my mind, eh?" she continued. You weren’t sure if it was a joke, but a smile formed on your lips anyway.

"Yeah…" A quiet laugh leaving your mouth at the image of Rio cussing out Miles' poor manager, in two languages no less. No wonder he was such a good boxer — Rio must have passed down her fighting spirit. "Maybe you'd even get signed,” you joked, the image of that even more amusing (and a scary possibility.)

Rio let out her own laugh, and your smile only grew; talking to her always made you feel better. "Me? Boxing? Nunca (Never.) — I'll work in that hospital until the end of me."

There was another stretch of silence. You thinned out a sigh, trying not to let the smile leave your face, even if she wasn’t there to see it.

"Come over for dinner tomorrow. I'll tell Miles to come and get you."

"Sure, tía, I'd love to." He probably just needed a break. Not from you specifically, but in general.

"You know tú y Miles sois mi vida, ¿bien?" (you and Miles are my life, right?) It wasn’t often Rio said that, but you always remembered every time she did, and how it made you feel — like you were family. Rio was pretty much a second mother to you. It made you wonder what Miles' father would've been like.

"Well, it's getting late, and I have a lot of laundry to fold." Rio's tone had a fake sort of enthusiasm — tiredness? You couldn’t really tell with her; the woman was always upbeat. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will." It was late, you realised, and the sky outside your window was a lot darker than it had been before. "You too, tía."

“Descansa, ¿sí?” (Get some rest, yes?)

“Sí, tía.”

The call ended, and you were left facing your messages, a bittersweet feeling hugging you from behind. Right now, Miles was out with Aaron, about some contract, probably to do with boxing…

But why weren't your texts going through?

miles are you ok? Not delivered

im really proud of you Not delivered

i wish i couldve seen you live Not delivered

It wasn’t like there was much point, but…

i love you Not delivered

Maybe it was just out of habit; maybe you just missed him. Your reflection frowned at you behind the messages, thumb hovering over the power button to shut your phone off, until your phone pinged with a notification — Aaron was texting you.

Hey man

Out of town

LMK if miles breaks in

You sat up immediately, fingers floating uselessly above the keys for a moment.

sure Read at 11:24PM

are you out of town already? Read at 11:25PM

Ping!

Yeah

@ Queens

Miles was with Aaron about some “contract”... and Aaron was in Queens?

You knew Miles hadn't blocked you, or turned his phone off — he had no signal. And there was only one place in Brooklyn you could think of that had no reception, and that MIles had any reason to be in. It was also the one place you didn't want him to go to: that damn warehouse.

The place he’d spent training all those weeks — what reason did he have to be there right after finishing the tournament? Putting on your jacket, blinking back the sleepiness and collecting the fleeting remains of patience you had left, you could only hope that Miles had even a shred of common sense with him.

THWACK! THWACK! THWA— Crack!

"Mierda..." (Shit...) Miles hissed, drawing his glove away from the punching bag. His hand was paralysed for a moment, a deep, gnawing pang running through his fingers down to the rest of his arm. The tight gloves only suffocated him more, doing nothing to ease the pain as he gritted his teeth and waited for it to dull down.

Why was he even here? It was over — that Norman bastard had blown him off hours ago. It felt like a couple minutes, the words still fresh in his mind. Searing pain shot through his hand when he tried to flex his fingers, the rest of his muscles starting to ache too. This was going to hurt after the adrenaline wore off. Damn it, Morales.

The walls flashed white all of a sudden, a faint rumble of thunder interrupting the pounding of his heartbeat as he tried to straighten himself out. It was quiet, except for the sounds of the incoming storm. The playlist he was listening to had finished ages ago — your playlist. If he didn’t want to think about you, he wasn’t doing a good job of it.

Rain blasted quietly against the windows, and Miles’ eyes stung with dryness as he squeezed them shut. There was no way he'd be able to go back now, not to you, definitely not to his mom. She'd probably go on and on about how he should've taken his jacket, how he ruined his hair in the rain again, maybe how he wasted his damn time being a boxer...

It was probably fair; his mom had enough on her plate trying to support them both — especially him right now. She’d done everything in her power to make sure he got to Vegas, and he’d just left her alone again right after. But how was he meant to face her now? He was supposed to make her proud, make his dad proud, but it wasn’t like he had any pride left after he’d lost his contract. The Green Goblin had probably set the record for fastest knockout when Miles lost to him. Of course just the semi-finals weren’t enough; Norman Osborn was the big shot of boxing, and if Miles lost to some rookie in just about 15 seconds, then maybe he wasn’t worth the investment.

It didn’t make sense — nothing about The Green Goblin (or “Harry”, whatever they liked to gossip about) made sense. He’d just debuted, but didn’t even look like a boxer; he didn’t stand right, his style was inconsistent, his head movement was all over the place, but his punch had almost knocked Miles’ brain straight out of his skull. It was almost superhuman. Even with no openings, the freak of nature had forced his way through like an animal. And he was scrawny, not nearly as built as Miles at least, like he should’ve been in the weight class down. Either way, the asshole was being celebrated, and Miles was out of a contract.

And Miles had just stood there, while Norman berated him and tore Miles’ dream apart right in front of his very eyes. Maybe he’d hoped too much as an “amateur” boxer. That’s all he was, apparently — no matter how hard he worked, or what he achieved, or what he promised.

“Why should I keep you? The Vulture was destined to lose at his age.”

“Even rigged matches wouldn’t get you anywhere.”

“I mean, you’re as good at fighting as one of those street kids.”

“That’s all you were before I decided to give you a chance, no?”

The image of the Norman’s uncanny, sneering face sent his good fist reeling towards the punching bag. Should’ve pummelled his pelirojo (redhead) ass to the ground—

"Miles!"

The glove crumpled mid-air against the bag, arm going rigid. It was silent as he let out a breath through his teeth — he wasn’t hearing things, was he?

The rush was starting wearing off, his mind starting to cloud and pain faintly radiating again from his other hand. His good fist tightened inside the glove, pushed against the bag which was still and awkwardly tilted.

You’re losing focus, just punch the damn thing—

"Miles, what the hell are you doing here?"

The noise of the door shutting made him turn around, floor squeaking under his stumbling feet. It was you by the door, breathing just as heavily as him and dripping head to toe with rain, in a jacket that was way too thin for any sort of weather.

Dios... (God...) He knew he couldn’t be hallucinating that disapproving look on your face.

Rain was pattering gently against the glass as he pulled his arm away away from the bag, letting it swing in front of him before his eyes met yours.

"It's midnight, what are you..." A sharp intake of breath interrupted your words — a shiver.

"What’re you doin’ here...?" Miles asked instead through a grimace. His voice came out wrong — hoarse. Cold sweat was clinging to his skin, and his throat was dry and tightening. A mess — that’s what you were talking to right now, barely your boyfriend. All he could do was stare as the rush died down and his senses were coming back to him. The fog in his mind made it hard to speak, even harder to look at you.

"My texts and calls weren't going through— You weren't with Aaron or your mom, I just..." You sucked in another breath through your teeth; raindrops were glistening on your skin. He should’ve just stayed home, damn it. "Was just worried."

Well, he certainly looked worrying, even more so than you. Swallowing back his breathlessness wasn’t helping; it was like he’d ran a marathon with his fists. The pain from his knuckle was starting to bleed into the rest of his hand so much so that it might’ve been broken.

"'M good... You, though?" He let out a bit of a growl to clear his throat before deciding to cut straight to the chase: you’d come here in the middle of the night, in the rain, by yourself. As much as he was being an idiot right now, the amount of times he’d told you to not do any of those things, pleaded with you even, was making you look like the delirious one in his eyes. Miles was being stubborn, but he knew you were worse.

“You insane…?” he muttered, taking a step away from the bag. “Did Aaron tell you to come here or sumn’?"

"No, he was supposed to be with you," you shot back, eyes narrowing at him from under your hood before thunder bellowed from all around. The rain was growing into a loud static noise, and your voice was muffled as your expression grew more exasperated. "You came home 3 days ago and you didn't even text me. Yeah, I probably should've texted you, and I tried, but now you're here training alone again when your mom thinks you're with Aaron and—"

"You come here to scold me?" His jaw crunched a little as he tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Miles wasn’t trying to be mad at you — he was just mad in general. It just so happened to be in your direction right now.

“Huh? No, I came here because you scared the hell out of me — and Aaron told me to not let you break into his place.”

If it was supposed to be funny, the laugh he let out was anything but amused. At least Aaron wasn’t here for him to disappoint too, or get a weirdly-phrased life lesson from, or both. “Well I’m not breakin’ in, and I told you, I’m good, so I don’t get why you’re still here.”

You stepped a little closer, and Miles’ heels dug into the ground to keep himself from moving. “Isn’t it obvious? Or are you just being difficult on purpose?”

“Difficult?” he mirrored dryly, trying to push back the growing exhaustion clouding his head.

“Can you not just take a break for once? It’s over, Miles; you already won—”

“I didn’t win.” The walls echoed with his voice, words having escaped on their own. It wasn’t at you, but he didn’t know what he was mad at, resolve fading as he watched your face straighten with realisation.

“Don’t tell me that’s why you’re here…”

His fingers unconsciously clawed into the boxing glove, pain shoot through his hand. Nothing came out of his mouth, but his silence was loud — incriminating. That was the reason, right? That he didn't win?

“Kid didn’t stand a chance.” What was the point of you being here?

“A one-punch concussion — on a newbie, no less.” It was over, like you said.

“It’s a shame, I bet on him too.” Everyone had given up on him.

“You should be resting right now— you’re shaking, Miles.” So why wouldn't you?

“No ‘m not…” is all he could muster, flexing his shoulders uncomfortably. Your hand was on his arm before he could realise, and he was met with a stern look as he tried to keep his gaze from shaking too.

The velcro on his gloves crunched as you started undoing them, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop you. It’s not like he had the energy.

“You coulda’ got hurt on your way here.” The croak in his voice made him sound more hopeless than reprimanding as you slipped off the first glove, pausing half-way down his palm. His bare palm.

“…I could’ve got hurt?” Miles held back a sigh as he was made to look at his own hand. Bruised, blackened, branded with anger — it hurt more to look at it than anything. “You didn’t wear your wraps?”

The other glove slid off, revealing the fresh, festering swelling coming from his middle knuckle — the aftermath of that sickening cracking noise. You took his curled hand, easing up his middle finger and making him hiss under his breath.

“Think you can straighten it?” you muttered, gently trying to do it yourself only to lose his hand from your grip.

“’S gonna be fine,” he mumbled, eyes fixed to the side as his hand closed back up.

“It won’t if you can’t move it properly.”

“You a doctor now?”

“Nah, but your mom’s a nurse.” You carefully held his hand by palm, thumb tracing over the tender, split skin, his fingers wrapping around the side of your hand in futile protest. He’d have to bother his mom again — he didn’t even think about that. “You basically just punched yourself.”

Everything you were saying was right — it always was. He hated that fact.

“You a boxing expert too?” he thought to retort.

“Thought that was supposed to be you.” Miles’ eyes narrowed, and yours narrowed in response. “I don’t get it, baby...” you sighed, shaking your head a little as you put down the gloves to the side.

Baby. His breath almost hitched. You were dating, and it didn’t even seem like it anymore. Not after all those weeks apart. The word didn’t even feel endearing, it was condescending, like he didn’t deserve it. Maybe he was being a baby, and maybe he always had been. You were the one who always had to drag him out of this make-shift gym. Right now was no different, except…

“…Why are you still doing this?” he heard you mutter, still turned away with his hand in your grip. You didn’t even know the half of it.

“Why are you still here?” His hand tried to slip away again, but you only took it by the wrist instead, now facing him.

“Why won’t you answer my questions, Miles?” Your voice deadened into a whisper, only serving to frustrate him.

“I don’t know why you care so much.” He let out a quiet huff, staring at your hand when your grip ceased to relax.

“I care because you look like you’re about to pass out and I can’t let my boyfriend kill himself over something stupid—”

“I’m not killing myse—” A pained groan escaped his mouth as you ruthlessly pushed up his injured finger.

“Don’t push me, Miles.” Oh, you were serious.

“You’re pushin’ sumn’,” he strained through gritted teeth. “Mierda… quit it already.”

The pain tore on another moment, and he was just now realising how bad it actually hurt. All you were doing was staring at him, brows knitted together. “Cariño, please…” he whispered, a wince forming on his face.

Your hand loosened, and he let out a quiet, frustrated, somewhat relieved sigh.

Still a sucker for nice words... He didn’t say them as much as he would’ve liked.

“You need to take a time out,” you stated after a beat of silence. The expression on your face was serious again, killing any sense of tenderness you might’ve shown.

He freed his hand from your grip with the opportunity, before giving you a dubious look. “Like, for kids?”

“Like for boxers, dumbass.” Your gaze followed his retreating hand for a moment before falling back on his eyes. “But if you want me to treat you like a kid…”

“I’m good.” Another roar of thunder rang out before he could add anything, and the rain was so heavy that anything you could see from the windows became a blur.

“…You got your jacket?” you suggested, without much hope.

The idea only made Miles’ eyes squeeze shut again. A shallow exhale left him, and he tried not to let his fatigue cloud his judgement. If he kept talking stupid to you, he’d probably have worse to worry about than a broken knuckle. “You think imma go outside?”

All you could do was sigh. It seemed like the two of you would be in “time out” for a while.

🕸️🔭👾

thank you for reading part 2 soon but then again its not my fav fic in the world 💔 i rewrote this like 8 trillion times and it still wasn't clicking for me 😭 idk i just got sick of editing it again and again

this isn't as short as my usual fics because i felt like i needed to add context... I've never written an au or anything remotely original so this is just yeah... im tryna figure it out! i have . too much lore for this au

reblogs appreciated lmk if you did like it (i hope this is someone's cup of tea lmao)

catch my atsv masterlist here !

#miles 42 x reader #42!miles morales x reader #42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles 42 #earth 42 miles x you #miles g morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #miles g morales #miles gonzalo morales #atsv fanfiction #across the spiderverse #atsv x you #42!miles x reader #atsv #prowler miles x you #prowler miles x reader #prowler miles #vhstown

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maxybabyy · 2 months

Note

i’m thinking about your max run club au again 😵‍💫 does daniel realize… the effect… max’s voice has on him? when do daniel and max meet in real life (if ever)?

😫 😫 i am always thinking about max run club ... but im sooo glad you're there with me! 🏃

in my mind they don't meet until after he and scotty break up. Daniel in a moderate sized LA apartment trying to figure out what to do with a bum knee and no race seat, when he goes to one of martijn's shows, and look who is there also :)

below the cut is the third part 😏 (part i, ii)

The first time he sees him, Daniel almost doesn’t notice.

He’s face-down on the sofa with his phone held loosely in his hand. He should probably be in bed, has an appointment with his physio in the morning, lunch with Blake after that. But Scotty’s in Canada for training camp, has been for the past two weeks, and Daniel hasn’t been sleeping well.

He had offered to come with him, with Scott. Made a joke about getting on the slopes too, “My knee’s been better, yeah? Reckon I could probably take you down for a run or two.” His knee still isn’t great but like, he could probably hang out in the hot tub, work on maybe, like a nice tan.

But Scotty had laughed, told him not to waste his time, “You don’t even like the snow, Ric. I’ll see you in a month, yeah?”

Daniel thinks maybe he’s allowed to feel like this, lonely and sad, scrolling through Instagram.

It’s worse then, when he sees the picture of Scotty. He’s shirtless and smiling, how Daniel likes him the best. There’s a sunburn on his nose, red and angry, and Daniel knows it must be painful. Can imagine almost how he must be complaining about it, refusing to put on aloe because he doesn’t like the sticky after-feel.

It gets him a little hot, his hips pressing against the sofa almost unconsciously. He could probably like, get himself off. Come into his own hand and send him a picture, saying some shit like, thought of u ;).

But also, like. Daniel hasn’t heard from him in a few days, thinks maybe he’s not going to be the one to reach out this time.

He’s deep in his twitter feed, focus only half on the screen when he hears the voice.

He rewinds it and presses the phone to his ear, the volume turned loud as he listens, and there it is. Just a handful of lines in that sharp accent that Daniel recognises immediately with an odd sense of excitement.

He loops it over to hear it again, and Daniel feels it. The sudden burst of energy, conditioned almost by sound alone. He wants to put on his shoes and run, Max’s voice hoarse in his ears coaxing him to be faster, to be better. To make it good, make it last. And Daniel would, for him. For Max.

He grinds his dick into the sofa, reckons it would be half-hard if he reached down to touch it.

Daniel doesn’t do it, obviously. It would be too much, he knows. Getting hot and bothered by the sound of a voice, or like, not even that. Because it’s GP’s voice he can hear now, deep and British, and decidedly not Max’s. But even like this, Daniel feels out of control.

He loops it again before he even thinks about it.

Daniel doesn’t realise until he’s on his third listen that GP is talking about Max, “- and he can be himself with me, which I think is really important when you work together the way that Max and I do.”

There’s a shuffle in the background, and Daniel almost misses it, rewinds the video just a few seconds to watch as a guy pops in from the side to hug GP.

Daniel doesn’t have to think about it, knows already that it’s Max on the screen.

He can only see his backside but he’s already so fucking hot. The wide line of his shoulders, trim waist obvious from the cropped running top he’s wearing. His shorts are almost indecent too, sit barely below his ass to show off strong thighs.

Looking at him like this, Daniel cannot fucking breathe.

Belatedly he noticed the link on the screen, a tag to their socials. It takes him to a YouTube page, Red Bull Running, and Daniel almost doesn’t – feels as the sour taste builds in his mouth.

It’s, like, objectively okay what he’s doing. He’s just a fan, that’s it. And like, Red Bull has probably hundreds of athletes, it’s barely even a connection.

Daniel doesn’t find it until he’s almost given up, hidden away at the bottom of the screen on a playlist called Max V. His cheeks feel flushed, his eyes heavy with maybe not sleep but something else, the illicit feeling making his fingers tingle.

He scrolls through it with his knee pulled to his chest, flicks through videos of Max on the treadmill, going over data with GP, crossing the line at the London marathon. He’s just as pretty as Daniel thought, wide smile and kind eyes as he laughs at his own silly joke.

He’s almost at the bottom, an absent yawn escaping his lips when he finds it. Yoga for Runners.

Foolishly, he clicks it, watches with a dry mouth as Max introduces himself. He sits squarely on the mat in a sunlit room. He isn’t wearing a shirt, back so straight it makes his pectorals look obscene. There’s a low-fi beat in the background, not too loud to drown out Max’s soft instructions guiding the viewer through a series of poses.

Daniel’s thumb hovers over the home button, ready to close out, to go to bed. And then Max bends over, ass to the camera in his tiny running shorts. It goes on forever. Max speaking softly, demonstrating with his hands the muscles he stretches, how to increase the pressure, where the strain should not be.

Max counts himself down, “You got, it. Four. Breathe deep for me, please,” lowers his knees and folds his chest almost to the floor, keeps his hips up high. “Here, you will feel the release of your rib cage. Obviously, like this it will give you a great stretch in the back also. Yes, just like this. You are of course doing so good.”

Daniel bites into the meat of his palm, pants into his own sweaty hand. He balances his phone against a pillow and slides his hand down to his dick.

He digs out the bottle of lube that hasn’t been used in months, pours it into his hand, onto his dick. Pretends the slick sound of his hand is something else. It’s easy to do like this, Max’s voice steady in his ear, body moving with impressive control on screen.

“Sink in a little deeper for me, we are so close,” Max says, voice soft, hoarse. “Breathe into the sensation. It should of course feel good when we do this.”

Daniel should feel embarrassed, maybe, but he comes just as Max is winding down, spread out on his back, breathing heavy. “Max,” he sobs, breathless.

The video ends, replaced by a moment of silence. And then in an all too familiar voice, “Hello, everyone,” that makes Daniel’s stomach drop.

#i reread part two recently and have been thinking about writing some more. so thank you for this!#max run club au #now with even less running!#maxiel #maxiel fic #max/daniel #my fic #my writing #fic #asks

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maissafespace · 1 year

Text

But I want you.

Ayato Kirishima x Reader

Synopsis: when the princess acts on her attraction for her royal knight, the only thing she can do is hope for all to go well.

Request: hello i will sell my soul for any sort of ayato kirishima content you can think of, im starving and i have consumed everything to be found on tumblr its unhealthy

Warnings: forbidden relatiosnhip. knight!ayato, princess!reader. nsfw. brat!reader, experienced!ayato, loss of virginity, fingering, oral (male receiving), scratching, degradation kink, manhandling, unprotected sex, creampie. light angst.

A/n: I don't know what this is, but I've never read Ayato outside of canon so I wanted to try, maybe make this an AU of which I will do other stories about just because lol but i agree i was starving for Ayato content as well anon, so i hope you like it really! I tried my best lol XD

Masterlist - Masterpost

As the princess of the kingdom who just reached legal age, your coming of age ball would occur soon for all guests to arrive and so would the different amount of wealthy men asking for your hand in marriage in order to also better their status and position in society.

You weren't really consulted on the proposals, it was up to your parents, mostly your mother to look over the most convenient proposal.

So, you had given up on it for quite a while, your caretaker and ladies in waiting had started to explained the duties you would need to satisfy as a wife and while it was a bit embarrassing at first, those deeds soon were pestering your mind day and night.

For a single man that was always near you.

Ayato Kirishima had entered and trained for the knighthood for his entire life, he was under the responsibility of your family's butler so he entered the palace quite young, only two years your senior.

It had started years ago as a mere crush on the boy, a blessing upon you since the window of your room would face the training grounds, your young self would look out for hours to see the boy train, drenched in sweat and panting with a flushed body.

You tried to stay away for some time, never look at him by your window anymore, occupying yourself in activities that would have you on the complete opposite sides of the palace. But he never left entirely, he would send those smiles that had your heart flutter, he'd help you around and more than once was assigned as your knight during trips, leaving him closer than ever.

With time that crush instead of fading became heavier, deeper and in some way worse when he seemed to exchange the interest positively. He’d talk to you, help you, touch you and made you laugh, he was always close.

That is why, right now, you found yourself in your room during the night trying to keep your composure and not touch yourself with all the knowledge that was bestowed upon you and think about your future husband being him.

It had to fade away as soon as possible, as a heir you knew the possibility of him ever being a match was below zero, unfortunately.

Your infatuation had to disappear.

Asking friends for advice was the next step, how to get a man out of your head, or a desire as you told them, and probably the worse advice was given to you. One that made you doubt the friendships you had.

To have him and throw away, experience the desire to finally having the curiosity satisfied and never think about it anymore.

For a week that thought never left your mind, you would pass by him, he would bow but the only thought you had was to savor those lips, feel them on your skin, while your bodies united as one.

As your body submerged under the hot tub, feeling that warmth and crave deep in you, it wasn't something you could ignore anymore, it was a years in the building love you had for him, his abilties, his beauty and his personality.

Standing up from the tub, water drenched down your body and hair, now wet and shining with the oils your skin was washed with. Hinami, helped you with your robe and was going to do the same for your hair before you stepped away from her, back to the same window you stayed at a lot in your youth.

"Hinami." You called her attention abruptly.

"Yes, my lady."

"Call Ayato Kirishima, I need to discuss something urgent with him." You said, and as Hinami nodded and exited the room, a bit of uneasiness and excitement built up in your core.

Your current robe was discarded for a new one, a sheer transparent robe that left nothing to the imagination. Your nipples were peeking against the fabric as well, your bosom stuck out barely covered by the hair falling on the front.

Minutes passed slow, spent on looking yourself in the mirror to make sure everything was as good as it was seducing somehow. Your heart stopped for a moment when the door was knocked at and Hinami's voice was faintly heard.

"Let Ayato in and leave us, Hinami, I'll call for you later if needed." You yelled from the bathroom with composure.

The door clicked open and close, the sound of boots gracing your ears as you finally let go of your agitation and moved towards your room once again.

"Princess, Hinami told me I was needed for an urgent matter but I was not aware of any- " When his eyes fell upon you, his face hardened in a way, his jaw was prominent and his eyes seemed to glare at you rather than be pleased by the sight.

It didn't diminish the thrill in you. Walking up to him at mere centimeters of distance with an innocent smile that contradicted the rest of your body.

"It is indeed something urgent. You see, recently I've been informed time and time again of certain duties- sigh- for my imminent marriage. Though, these were referred to me by women, I was quite curious on a male perspective. Who would be better than you, my loyal knight?" You smiled at him, hands behind your back, popping your chest out a little.

His eyes slightly widened at the implications of your words. Going back to their stoic and neutral gaze seconds later. "I am sure you were already told enough, my lady. I cannot cross more lines than I already am by being here."

"I invited you here. You're not crossing any line that I did not ask you to. But if I am of incovenience, I will find someone else to help me out-"

"What is it that you need?" His voice was harsher and colder, your thighs clenched together at the tone and his eyes seem to register it after all.

"I need to learn the ways to properly pleasure a man, if you could teach me, I know you're experienced in women, it shouldn't be different to take me-" Your jaw hurt as his fingers pressed against it, lifitng you towards him, close to his face where your noses would almost touch.

"You are the princess, my lady, what you are asking is for me to treat you like a common whore, is that what you want?" Your head moved on its own, nodding for him, to have him as soon as possible, to let your desire flow out freely without hiding.

His lips crashed against yours right after, he held you hardly as his mouth moved roughly, a kiss that was reciprocated, sloppy and messy at the amount of need behind the both of you.

Your body and his felt burning against one another, your back arched, and your sounds began to echo in the room along the smacking of your lips, your chest pressed against his, heat pooled in you both at the skin contact separated with only two layers of clothing.

Nipples could be felt through the sheer robe, they hardened, hands started to fall around the hems of the fabrics, the robe being the first hitting the ground and his cotton training shirt following behind, letting you get a close up of the body you eyed every day for years, the body you wanted to feel the warmth of.

Hands roamed around, your on his chest, back and shoulders while his grabbed onto your every flesh possessively, gripping on your waist, hips, neck, nape, ass… he seemed like he wanted to memorize everything about it.

“Ayato-“ Whispering his name let you hear his groans out loud. You wanted to know for how long he wanted you as well, how he fantasized about you just as you did for him to react this way to your touch, to your voice…

His bulge was evident against your lower stomach, founding the courage and guided by your lust, your hand rubbed it, he pulled away from you hissing, squeezing a bit when the burning sensation of your scalp came as he pulled you from your hair.

It wasn’t pain, not at all that came with the action, but instead your thighs were squeezing together, trying to alleviate the need of him.

He noticed it, he noticed you, just like he always did all these years. A small smirk came onto his face, your flushed face, red and pink, with the glossy look in your eyes made him feel power over the member of royalty before him, let his ego being inflated.

“Down to your knees.” He pushed you down, his fingers going to the string of his pants, your mouth watered for him. “You asked for this, my princess. How to pleasure a man, how to be pleasured as a whore…” He leaned to kiss your lips once more before pushing into your mouth.

The taste passed any importance, your head felt dizzy as his hands guided your head back and forth down his length, your tongue moved around him, your moans mixing with his hisses and groans.

Millions of thoughts went through his mind, how did the sheltered princess that never touched a man, suck him off like a professional woman from the brothels. How did she lose all her innocence in his eyes with a single sight of her body.

As his hands cupped your face, he made you look up at him, your eyes close to tearing up but he had to stop to keep himself on edge at least. He groaned loudly, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs almost gently before his hips thrusted forward.

You couldn’t help but gag, the tears threatening to fall down, were now rolling down your cheeks, your fingers dug into his legs for you to have something to latch on.

The roughness was arousing, he could do anything to you right now, your head wasn’t registering much. You just wanted him, as your first and maybe as your only one.

When he pulled out of your mouth, you were gasping for hair, your hands falling on the ground, essentially in a doggy position, your mouth hung open waiting for him, he couldn’t help but want to see your body trembling from an orgasm, have you under his complete control.

He kneeled in front of you, kissing your lips that still tasted of him with a devilish smile, lifting you up from your jaw and walking to your bed, bodies climbing and falling onto the silky sheets. Expensive fabrics that would now be tainted of you two.

His body hovered yours, lips connecting with his again, muffling down the moans that now escaped you as his fingers found their way to your intimacy.

Your legs tried to squeeze together at first, but were roughly opened up, shamefully spread on for anyone that could enter the room to look at you and how his fingers started to pump in and out of you.

One of your hand was gripping on the bed, moaning at the cold but pleasant feeling of his fingers inside of you, his thumb circling and pressing against your clit wonderfully, mixed with the squelching sound of your juices. “Ayato, Ayato, please-“ You whimpered against his lips.

“Wet like a slut, moaning like a bitch for me, is this what you did every day when looking at me from afar…” His voice was rough against your ear, lips against the lobe sending shivers down your spine. “Don’t think I’ve never noticed you. Did you touch yourself thinking of me? Calling for me? Just like you are doing now.” You could feel the smirk at his lips.

But you couldn’t do much, with his words and his actions he was sending you into a blurry minded state. You just nodded, whimpering as you felt the knot sensation in your core, arching your back a little, you knew he knew. He pressured more, pumping faster and deeper, rubbing down till you cried out his name.

You were scratching his back as he continued through your orgasm, your legs were spasming, but he chuckled. Pulling his fingers out of you and spreading your cum on your lower stomach and then leading them to your mouth to suck on.

That arousal heightened once again, your eyes were still full of lust and love. You reached out for his face, kissing him gently contrarily to all previous actions, he countered with the same gentleness, his tongue played with yours, his hand caressed your skin.

“Are you sure of this now?” He whispered asked you, there was a hint of concern in his eyes.

“Please, Ayato, I want it to be you.” Your voice cracked at the confession. He kissed you then, deeply and passionately. Spreading your legs apart once again as he positioned himself between them.

The tip of his cock slapped against your still sensitive clit, whining against his mouth you felt him rub himself around, picking up the natural lube. “It may hurt a little-“ He said lowly, you barely heard him as he thrusted in slowly.

Your arms wrapped around him tightly, as your legs caged him with you as he sunk himself into you slowly. He groaned at the tightness and you let a few moans out of slight pain and pleasure. Feeling stretched open was a bit of a vague statement, it was not describable, even less when he started moving.

He pulled away from you, sitting up, looking down at your body, covered in love bites, hickeys and marks, he admired the disheveled form of you, it was perfect, he wanted to be the only one allowed to see this but it wasn’t something practical so he would just memorize it and enjoy this single time he’d have with you.

His arm wrapped around your under thigh, his other hand going to wrap itself around your neck as he accelerated his thrusts, smashing deeper and louder, noises bounced around the room, for everyone to probably hear the slapping of your skin to one another.

“My little whore is about to cum… already, I can feel you around me. Fuck, fuck-“ your walls were doing things to him. He let go of your leg, leaning over you still holding you around your throat.

Taking the chance your legs wrapped around his waist, you didn’t want him to ever separate from you and he held much of the same thought but it was far more complicated.

With his thrusts mere seconds passed before you came, he was close now as well as he fucked you through it, pussy that tried to milk him. He gritted his teeth in frustration. “Let go, princess.” He said with a mean tone. “Y/N. Let go, I’m going to cum.” He warned, he was stern trying to pull away, but your conscious state of mind and your fucked out state of mind wouldn’t let him. You wanted all of him, your eyes screamed it and instead of stopping his hips continued.

“I-Inside-“ Your mouth was shut by his, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him down against your body as he finally went sloppier till he pushed deep, grunting against your mouth as he emptied himself in you while your third orgasm hit.

You felt like puddle, never in your life had you felt such pleasure.

The knight on the other hand was pushing down the voice that was telling him how much he had fucked up right then. But nothing felt this satisfying in a long time, this was a huge risk that made the thrill even more exciting and arousing.

He pulled out, he chuckled at your face distraught at the thought of him just leaving. Thoughts that disappeared as he turned you around, getting on your hands and knees, ass up and back arched as he pushed back in.

Holding you at your waist and hips, thrusting as if it wasn’t your first night, it felt like he was using your body, stuffing you with him. He was treating you like he said he would, and as you moved your hips back into his hungry for more, he continued spouting filth about you.

Grabbing at your shoulders to thrust deeper.

A few more orgasms happened till late at night, only once it was him cumming somewhere that wasn’t in you. Positions after positions, rough with breaks of gentleness, where you’d just hold each other and kiss. Making up for all the time you didn’t let yourself act on your attraction for him.

Falling into your slumber wasn’t something you were surprised but waking up without him was. You sat up abruptly when you couldn’t feel him beside you anymore, looking around the room till relaxing at the sight of him in front of the chimney.

The ache everywhere in your body didn’t matter, your feet tapped rapidly till your body only covered by his shirt hugged the back of his.

“I was scared you had left.” You mumbled against his skin.

He remained silent for a while. “You know we fucked up, right?” His voice was a big emotionless, you flinched a little but tightened your hold around him. “Doesn’t matter if I wanted it or you did.. fuck.”

He sighed, a hand going through his hair while your heart was clenching in fear of his words, not because of the risk but because he could distance himself from you. Tears were close to falling from your eyes.

“I’m sorry… Ayato, I’m sorry.” You could say the only thing that could repair things, that could have him stay.

“Apologies won’t do much, princess.”

You rounded him, getting in front of him, not letting his eyes move from yours, you looked up at him, his hand automatically moved to your cheek, he was comforting you when it should’ve been the other way around.

Millions of feelings were flashing through both of your eyes, consequences would come and it could be in a form of a tiny human being or harsh punishment or maybe luck would be on your side and nothing would happen.

He leaned in, kissing you once more. “You will be arranged to marry in no time. This stunt was avoidable for both of us but you couldn’t help yourself, so you’re dragging me down with you.” He continued to peck your lips, hands holding around your waist.

“Stay with me.” You whispered to him.

“Is that an order?” Your stomach dropped looking at empty eyes, feeling the disappointment and guilt pooling up, a one night stand or a forceful relationship wasn’t what you wanted.

Your arms fell from his body, walking away from him, you threw his shirt back, leaving you bare without any care of it, climbing back into your bed. You said a single word out loud. “Leave.”

He stood there, hair covering his face, sighing heavily as he retrieved his shirt. He contemplated but went to you, laying a kiss on the top of your head as you hid under the sheets.

He didn’t say anything, he would suppress his feelings, the adrenaline was gone, reality sunk back in and too many things were at stake, it wasn’t too late to just stop it before it could go even deeper.

The door opened and closed behind him, that was when you could let the little whimpers out, muffling the cries, now it was on you to explain the marks on your body to the maids, it was on you to look after your heart as it was crashed and broken for the man that just left after showing all his emotions all night and taking the innocence you were allowing him to take.

You didn’t close your eyes till the morning after in hopes for him to come back to you and hold you.

#tokyo ghoul x reader #tokyo ghoul smut #tokyo ghoul #ayato x reader #ayato kirishima #ayato kirishima x reader #kirishima ayato #ayato smut

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starlit-dreaming · 2 days

Text

[idea] the spiteful fake dating au

inspo from this post [click here]

obligatory tag (im an attention whore and therefore i summon thee): @lithi @hwang-lucas

tl;dr if you dont wanna click on the link:

"i know we could half-ass it, but i would never fake mistreat my fake husband, how dare you" which reads like athy to me

and

"my baby cousins are probably screwed when it comes to their chances of turning out normal, but I’d like them to have one healthy example in their life" which can pass as a caring uncle lucas

the setting and my Vision:

modern au, lucathy are probably mid-20s or early 30s im thinking??? maybe kinda like the ons/fwb au where athy's like. 28 and lucas is gonna be 30

so as the lines i've quoted state, lucas is gonna be a caring uncle whose brothers have shit show marriages. a train wreck and not gonna be healthy at all (oldest has a falling apart 15 year marriage and kids were their solution of slapping tape on the problems; youngest has a hateful wife and is a doormat probably; i need a reminder on whether or not lucas is the youngest but im gonna treat him as the middle bro atm cause its the Vibes).

and yeah, he wants Nothing^tm to do with his family, but his nieces and nephews deserve to see a healthy relationship to have as an example and damn does he hate his in-laws more than his actual family

so he asks athy to be his fake wife

(i feel like it'd be funny if they signed a marriage certificate just in case lucas deals with paranoid family (when really he's just paranoid and athy's an overthinker who HELPED him get paranoid at the thought), then they got drunk, and accidentally submitted the paperwork and just straight up forgot

"wdym you guys ACTUALLY filed the paperwork?????????" -- helena probs

"oh shit does that mean we got married fr???" -- athy, before the panic settles in

it becomes an inside joke among their friends after the panic of it wears off because now they're pretty much committed to the bit for the sake of lucas' nieces and nephews so now there are jokes about "where's your wife/husband" and "" etc etc)

athy's gonna constantly overthink it (and desperately trying to avoid ever mentioning it to her parents because her mom would be so disappointed that there wasnt a wedding and claude might kill lucas if he makes athy cry)

plus she's 100% gonna be ready to fite lucas's shitty relatives if they say something bad about him

side note: diana 100% thinks that lucas is athy's long-time bf so she's always joking with claude that lucas is finally gonna drop down on one knee any day now and claude, being a super big grump, is just "at least its not that alpheus kid"

little do they know that lucas became a legit in-law (although they still invite him for family dinners, and when its mentioned that athy's parents treat him as family, lucas's parents and grandparents take that as a CHALLENGE)

athy being petty by having a sickeningly sweet relationship and talking about how wonderful lucas is as a husband and partner because of how much she just straight up hates one of the sister in-laws

i'm self-indulgent, so i'm gonna have the classic "my sister in-law tried to sleep with my husband" stories

also idk if its just me but when it comes to fake dating aus (which i'm a SUCKER for) i think its a++++++++ when one of them casually goes "yknow if we were actually doing this for realsies, we'd probably be making out in a closet rn" and the other person sweating cause that sounds infinitely better than what they're doing rn

ALSO

the casual "oh yeah athy's crazy about that kinda shit" or "lucas would absolutely hate that lmao" and just FLEXING on everyone about how good of a partner they are to the other

and lucas, who originally suggested that they don't have to do any lovey-dovey stuff and that they can just be the same as always, ends up getting a fuming athy who more or less goes "my REPUTATION would be at stake if people found out that we broke up just because i wasn't being a loving and caring partner, so hell no!!!!!"

aksulifdfhbjdkshf i'm running on like,,,,,,, 5 hours of sleep and havent slept in like,,,,, 17 hours now

so i'm just gonna leave this unedited all-over-the-place mess here

#starlit rambles #au ideas #lucathy #wmmap #sbapod #long post

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enhancedpartytime · 2 years

Text

some ramblings abt the submas au sorta thing ive been doing doodles of (1) (2) b/c i have a lot of ideas. i may or may not draw these down the line. still need an actual name for this as well. i am open to suggestions.

where things diverge from canon is maybe a couple months after the ending of pla? dialga kinda just shows up through an ominous portal at the training grounds one day and scares the heck outta everyone. it just walks up to ingo and is like. “hey so turns out might be my bad that you ended up here im not sure but uh if you wanna go home now i can take you back home. you can always change your mind later if you want too just call me on your flute when you decide ok cya.” and then just hovers back through the portal.

ingo thinks over this for couple days, talks to others about it and they encourage him to at least give it a try. he doesn’t have his memories back so he really doesn’t know where his old home even is. so he’s pretty apprehensive to leave what’s now his home go back to somewhere that he doesn’t recognize. by the end of the week though he does decide to call dialga.

he asks dialga if it would be possible for him to go just to visit and try to regain his memories, and then return back to hisui, and make a permanent decision afterwards. dialga, to his surprise tells him that, “oh yeah don’t worry about it. i can take you back and forth as much as you want it’s super easy. just don’t tell palkia it’s a jerk and won’t ever shut up about it if it finds out im hanging out with a member of the clan that worships it.”

ingo never fully regains his memories. though he is able to remember a lot more than he did previously once he returns to unova. things that were repetitive or constants in his life he is able to remember with time, but not specific moments. his memory loss is a permanent disability that he has to learn to navigate. emmet happily spends a lot of time telling him about anything and everything.

ingo doesn’t really know where he belongs after everything. but he and emmet are able to make things work. and dialga is always surprisingly chill with ferrying them back and forth in time.

#submas #ingo #emmet #rambling #submas time taxi au

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bakugostiddies · 3 years

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Please god do a villain!au with Todoroki 🧎‍♂️ I usually don't like those but omfg with him it would totally work

Absolutely. This turned into a 4k word fic, but I am too attracted to this man to be ashamed.

Icarus | Todoroki Shouto x Reader

Warnings: eventual smut, temperature play, impact play, kind of dub-con but not really, degradation, praise, villain!au, corruption kink, no gendered terms but reader has a vagina and breasts.

NSFW | 18+

You had fucked up.

The room was dark and dank, eerily quiet save for the sound of your breathing. You looked around frantically, struggling to break loose from the bonds that held you. Shit. Shit. Shit.

As your eyes adjusted, you noted that there was a door ahead of you, a steel one with two deadbolt locks. You could feel a metal chair beneath you, rattling each time you moved even slightly. Your arms and legs were restrained by some sort of extremely strong fabric, but your mouth was unrestricted. Shit. Shit. What was Endeavor going to say? You were still just his sidekick, but this was your first big operation and you blew it completely. He would kill you when you got back, you just knew it. Endeavor took his temper out on you even when you did well, which meant you had no clue what he would do to you after a fuckup this bad. Shit.

Calm down, Y/N, you told yourself mentally. You were safe and unharmed, so maybe they just wanted information. You attempted to activate your teleportation quirk, but it didn’t work. What happened? You could feel yourself beginning to hyperventilate. You didn’t want to die here, after being kidnapped by some asshole who wouldn’t even fight you face to face.

“If you’re wondering why you can’t use your quirk, we just took it away for a while.”

A voice emerged from the shadows of the room, soft and almost velvety. You flinched. You hadn’t even realized someone was here. How could you have missed something so obvious? You felt like a shitty fucking hero.

“Who are you?” You said after a moment.

“Im surprised you didn’t recognize me. Well, I suppose it is a bit dark in here.”

And suddenly with the flick of a match, the voice became a man and the shadows around the room came to life. You swallowed harshly, all of the moisture in your mouth gone. The man stalked towards you with a sureness of a predator and stopped a few feet away from where you were sat in the metal chair. You looked up at his two toned hair, his strong, rugged figure in the flickering light. He wore a suit not too different from that of a hero’s, but he was tinged with scorch marks and small icy spikes. He looked like he was made of fire.

“Well?” He said it softly, but there was a hint of malice in his tone. “Who am I?”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, your body almost paralyzed with fear. You knew who he was, of course you did. He was the one who helped blew up that building on the case you were on a month ago. He was the one who ambushed those (kind of sleazy) businessmen on their way to a cartel. He was the one who’s name was whispered in fear and awe on the nations’ streets. He was standing right in front of you, looking… bored?

The man sighed and fiddled with his match. “Hurry it up, hero, I don’t have all day.”

You spoke almost inaudibly. “You’re Icarus.”

He smiled slightly and a chill ran down your spine.

“See? That wasn’t too hard.”

He moved a bit closer to you and leaned down, his heterochromatic eyes almost level with your own. A single gloved hand moved to touch your chin with his thumb and index finger, moving your head from side to side with a feather-light touch. You hoped he couldn’t feel how scared you were, how your body seethed and rejected his very presence.

He finally released your face and you let out a sigh of relief. Icarus removed a single glove and touched his fingers gently to the match. It went out without smoke or a flicker, just a gentle hiss of frozen silence. The room was dark again, and he was moving, knocking on one of the walls.

“Turn on the lights, Red Riot.”

Your eyes widened. Red Riot? Wasn’t he the pro-hero who became a villain after Dynamight? Holy shit, was Dynamight here? Icarus interrupted your train of thought as the lights flickered on almost menacingly. You noted your surroundings carefully, seeing a bed in the corner, a small table, and another chair. The room looked less like a prison and more like a shitty motel suite.

“Do you know why you’re here?” He sat down in a chair across from you, leaning forward with his arms on his thighs and his legs spread slightly.

“I don’t know, Icarus.”

“Heres a hint; it has something to do with your boss.”

“Endeavor?”

You could feel bile rushing up your throat but you swallowed it down. The man before you clenched his jaw rigidly, as if it pained him to hear the name, but returned to normal so quickly you might have imagined it.

“You’re a bright one. Yes, hero, the very same. And do you have any idea on what he’s planning to do, say, sometime in the next six months?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

His tone was harsher now and he got out of his chair, moving closer to you again. You felt so small under his scrutiny, yet drawn to him like a moth to a flame, like Icarus himself to the sun.

“You see, I’m the only reason you’re alive. And if you want to keep your pretty little head-“ he circled around behind you- “you will listen to what I say.” His voice was barely a whisper in your ear, and your voice hitched in your throat.

“Do you understand?” He asked, straightening up.

“Yes.”

“Yes, sir.”

This was so goddamn humiliating, like your first day working with Endeavor all over again. With him, it was always a yes, sir, no, sir, please don’t make me work weekends, sir. But you swallowed your pride again and spat it out.

“Yes… sir.”

“A hero that obeys commands, what a find,” he said tauntingly. “But you could stand to lose that attitude.”

You wanted to slap him, to beat him up to the point of him being bruised and bloody and broken and then have him call you sir instead. God, if only you could teleport out of these fucking restraints-

“You’re thinking about using your quirk, correct?” It was like the asshole could read your mind.

“You can’t. Aizawa Sensei took yours away. You know him as Eraser-head.”

Fuck, Eraser-head was here too? All of the biggest villains were gathered here together and you- you could do nothing.

“So I’ll ask you again. What are Endeavor’s plans?”

At that moment, you made yourself a promise; that you would not let Icarus win. Little did you know that you would break that promise a thousand times over.

———-

Two days later:

———-

“Did Endeavor tell you about the attacks?”

“No, sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come on now, you can tell me. I won’t hurt you.”

“...”

“Still no response? No matter, I have time to get it out of you.”

———-

Seven days later:

———-

“Still not talking, hero?

Look at that, the silent treatment.

I never thought an adult could be so petty. Just tell me where I can get more information.

Nothing?

Okay. Eat your soup, I can’t have you dying on me before you start talking.

And hero? You will have to open your mouth sooner or later.”

————

16 days later:

————

“Cut the bullshit, hero. We know he has plans for a big attack sometime during the next six months, so either Deku is wrong, or you are lying to my face. And Deku’s never wrong.”

“Well, I guess he’s wrong this time.”

“Then I guess we’ll return you since this has all just been one big mishap.”

“Really?”

“No. You aren’t the smartest, are you?”

“Maybe my brain will somehow recall something about this totally real attack you think is happening if you give me better food?”

“Don't be a brat, hero. I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble if I had known you would be so inconvenient.”

“Whatever you say, sir.”

————

20 days later:

————

“Thanks for the bread, sir. It's quite an upgrade for a kidnapped person’s shitty meal.”

“You have low standards, hero.”

“Hey, why do you call me that?”

“What, hero?”

“Yeah. I have a name, you know. It's-“

“I know what your name is.”

“Okay, Jeez. If you knew it, then why not use it? Plus, I’m not even a hero yet. I’m still technically just a shitty sidekick who’s totally blown it on my first solo mission. I’m never going to be a pro at this rate, I might as well just give up.”

“I think you’re good.”

“What?”

“I said, you’re powerful and good at using your quirk. You have a lot of assets and it’s a shame your talent is wasted on Endeavor and the fools at the pro-hero agencies. It was difficult to actually catch you off guard, to get past your guards, to make sure your quirk was out of commission. And we are very strong.”

“Oh. Um, thanks, I guess?”

“Don’t thank me, hero. I’m just stating the obvious.”

————

25 days later:

————

“Why is your name Icarus?”

“It's not my real name.”

“Well no shit, dude. I'm asking why you chose it.”

“Icarus was a boy who followed his father’s instructions perfectly, but the moment he strayed from the path set out for him, he was punished, scalded by the flames of the sun, and cast away. But I think it was worth it for him in the end.”

“Why?”

“Because he was free. Because Icarus flew, and he was able to be his own person, even if it was just for a moment.”

“Do you feel like Icarus?”

“Most of the time I do, yes.”

“Sir?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think that right now, you’re flying or cast away?”

“At this very moment, I think I am flying.”

“You know what? I think so too.”

————

29 days later:

————

“So what’s your real name, sir?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why?”

“Classified. Also, I don’t need you to know my name.”

“But you know mine!”

“That's because you’re a prisoner, in case you’ve forgotten. You are almost unnervingly at ease here.”

“I’ve met three people so far and you have all given me no reason to fear.”

“Really? Not even Dynamight?”

“His hair makes me laugh. Plus, I can’t take airheads with overinflated egos seriously.”

“I agree with that assessment wholeheartedly.”

“You agree with my assessment- Sir, you sound like an old man.”

“I’m only three years older than you, you know.”

“Really? But you have all of these wrinkles?”

“I do not have wrinkles.”

“Fine, frown lines then.”

“That makes it sound like I don’t smile.”

“Well, you don’t!”

“It’s hard to find things to smile about.”

“God, you’re such an Edgelord.”

“What do you mean by that? hero, stop laughing.”

“You are definitely an old man.”

————

30 days later:

————

There had been a new development a couple of days ago in the kidnapping situation. You could feel your quirk again, which meant a lot of things. It meant you weren’t here against your will anymore, that you were free to go. Yet you remained. You still stayed in the same room with Icarus checking in on you in the afternoons. However, it had been given furniture- a desk and more comfortable chairs, a small rug on the floor, and thicker blankets. It was almost like you weren’t even a prisoner anymore. You could always leave, you reasoned. You could teleport out of here. Your quirk was back, and yet you stayed.

The other villains had taken a liking to you for reasons beyond your comprehension, but all it meant was that you were never short on company. Dynamight would burst in to complain about how Deku always got the best missions, Red Riot would bring in a deck of cards and the two of you would play go fish or bluff, even Deku would occasionally check up on you and make sure you were comfortable. But your afternoons? They were always set aside for your favorite visitor- Icarus.

...

“You haven’t answered my question about your name yet.”

You were sitting on the cot in your almost room, feet dangling off the edge and swinging back and forth. Icarus was sitting on his chair again, but lazily, with his arms locked behind his head and his legs precariously balanced against the edge of the bed.

“You haven’t answered any of my questions since you got here, so I don’t believe you have a right to complain.”

He was right, of course. He always was. But technically, he was equally at fault in this case. He was the one who sucked at interrogation, so much so that you took pity on his colleagues. They would have to deal with his lack of results.

You weren’t complaining, however. You enjoyed talking to him, looking at him, being in his presence. It was a stupid crush to have, but you didn’t care. He was beautiful to look at, the way his biceps curled behind his head, the lean toughness of his body, the sheer strength he possessed. Your eyes trailed down his sprawling figure, tracing each indent and dip and curve of his skin in your mind.

“Are you finished staring at me?” His words jerked you out of your stupor and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks.

“I-I wasn’t- I didn’t-“ you babbled until he stopped you.

“Don’t worry, it’s only natural to find me… appealing. You haven’t spent time with anyone else for a very long time.”

You almost screamed on the spot, burying your face in your hands. You peeked out between your splayed fingers to look at him, seemingly unbothered save for the slight pink tinge hidden beneath his bangs.

“How can you say things like that, sir?”

“Like what?”

“Uhm, never mind.”

You wanted the ground to swallow you up whole. He was so, so dense, it was a wonder he even noticed you basically eye-fucking him. You felt the cot creak beside you and a slight dip in the weight. Icarus had seated himself beside you on the small bed and was looking at you with eyes full of concern.

“I did not mean to shame you for your gaze, hero.”

He said it gently and kindly. It would be almost romantic if not for the situation you were in. You remained silent, so he continued.

“I believe it is normal for you to feel this way towards someone who has been in such close quarters with you for so long a time. You should be glad that you still have these urges.”

You suppressed a groan. This felt like having the sex talk with your parents all over again. “Sir-“

“-in fact, everyone feels them!”

He was rambling, oh god you needed him to shut up-

“I feel them for you all the time, and I’m completely normal.”

And suddenly, the air changed between you into something charged and heated.

“You… have urges around me?” You wanted to hear him say it again, just once, but he turned away from you, tensing up and rising from his seat awkwardly. His face was stony and his hair covered his eyes like bicolored curtains. There suddenly was space between the two of you, some insurmountable gap that could not be bridged.

“I apologize deeply. I have misspoken.”

“Sir, wait, you don’t have to leave!” You cried out as he made his way to the door.

“But I do. You don’t deserve this treatment, and it is cruel of me to hurt you in this manner.”

And that was when something broke within you, something that had been holding you together this whole time.

“No.”

He turned around, almost scared by the anger in your voice.

“This is when you decide to stop? You have literally kidnapped me, interrogated me, left me in all but isolation, for a fucking month. You took me from everything that I wanted and everyone that I love and yet, and YET, I wanted you. Goddamn it, I still want you. I don’t understand why. So don’t apologize to me for misleading me or whatever bullshit excuse you’ve decided to use as a sheild. Apologize for everything you have done to me, you fucking cunt.”

And then your voice broke and you could feel the tears rushing to your eyes, your vision turning glassy as your chest heaved with sobs. You could feel yourself slipping away, your breaths growing shallow and your body shaking. Why did you stay here? Why didn’t you leave when you could? What was the point, if Icarus didn’t even want you?

And then, suddenly, you felt warm.

Icarus, sir, whoever the fuck he was, was holding you tightly in his arms, head dipped down into the crook of your neck, his arms enveloping you in his warmth. He was your sun. And he could scorch you again and again but you would still be drawn to him.

Your panic died down and you wept for the first time since you arrived. The two of you sank down to the floor, his apologies muttered swiftly and quietly against your skin. You were in his lap now, your body curled up into a ball in his embrace, one of his palms cupping your face. He turned you slightly towards him.

His eyes were wet too, but only slightly, and his fingers were thumbing at the tears on your cheeks. One of them got close to the corner of your mouth and slowly but surely, with almost childlike fascination, he pushed the tip of it in. Your tongue ran along the edges of it, the salty taste leaving you wanting more.

And slowly, Icarus leaned forward, his lovely face the closest you had ever been to him. He removed his finger from your mouth and kissed you instead, gently, and then all at once.

It was a furious kiss, on that burned and heated a cold room. You could feel teeth and tongue and hot tears, a clashing finale of a kiss. It was against your lips that he murmured his name.

“My name is Todoroki Shouto.”

He said it softly, leaving your lips to place open-mouthed kisses on your neck that left you moaning and had wetness pooling between your legs. But suddenly, your eyes snapped open.

“Todoroki? As in-“

He kissed you again to silence as you felt the questions racing through your head. Endeavor was Todoroki Enji, right? But he had never mentioned having kids to you? Was Shouto lying to you? Why did he want to destroy his father? And how were you-

“Shh.” Shouto tapped his forehead to yours. “Let me take care of you.”

Fuck it. The questions could wait.

Shouto reached down to pull off your shirt and groaned at the sight of you. He looked at you in wonder.

“You- hero, you make me feel like I’m on fire.” He said it with such sincerity that you nearly cried again were it not for his palming of your breasts, his burning fingertips tweaking your nipples and making you whimper slightly.

“I am so sorry. I’m sorry for everything I put you through-“ you were placed on the bed- “I’m sorry for taking you away-“ He was kneeling, fucking kneeling, between your legs- “but most of all-“ fuck, he placed hot kisses on your stomach as he pulled your pants down-

“I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to do this sooner.”

And with that, his tongue was lapping at you through your panties, new ones that the villains had provided for you, with reckless abandon. Your hands tugged at his hair and you heard his hum of a chuckle as a vibration on your pussy. There was pressure, so much pressure from him against you, like nothing you had felt before, and when he finally pushed your panties aside, they were soaking wet.

Shouto looked up at you for a moment, meeting your gaze with his own, eyes sparkling with desire. And then, without a word, He pressed a small kiss to your clit that had you jolt slightly before he dove in. He had you moaning within seconds, his tongue lapping at your folds before swirling around your clit. You felt yourself reaching a climax- it was too good and too fast and too much and- Shouto pushed a finger inside you and crooked it slightly and you began humping your hips upwards as he nursed at your clit. Your climax was swift and powerful, but he didn’t move throughout it. Even as you came down from your high, his mouth planted on you and his finger gently pumped in and out. Shouto added one more easily, and you swore you saw stars when he began thrusting. He fucked you with his fingers, marveling at your reactions, the sounds you made, your pussy pulling him in.

“Fuck, hero, you’re so wet. Is this all for me? Have you gotten off to me fucking you like this in this bed?”

You moaned loudly and Shouto removed his fingers, leaving you feeling empty. There was a dark look in his eyes that you remembered from the first day you arrived.

“Answer me, hero.”

You nodded your head slightly, but that wasn’t enough for him. He rose to his feet and without warning, he smacked your clit. You squealed loudly from the stimulation, the pain turning into pleasure quickly. His palm was cold as ice, and you squirmed dumbly against his touch.

“Answer the question.”

“Yes, yes, sir, I’ve thought about you fucking me everywhere in this room-“

Shouto’s palm reverted back to his normal temperature and you sighed with relief as he cupped your pussy and rubbed it gently.

“What a good, slutty, hero. Have you touched yourself when you think about me?”

You blushed slightly and hid your face behind your hands. God, this was embarrassing. Of course you had gotten off to the thought of him, but to say it out loud was a different feeling altogether.

You took too long and Shouto spanked your clit again. You let out a shriek and tried to wriggle away from him, but he just pulled you closer.

“I want to see your face, doll.” You whimpered at the new pet name. “Now, have you touched yourself when you think about me?”

“Y-yes sir-”

“Y-yes s-sir-‘ so shy for someone who wants a villain to fuck your hero pussy into behaving.” he palmed himself over his trousers, letting out a little huff of pleasure. “I want to, shit, want to fucking ruin you.”

Shouto pulled you to him as your hips thrust desperately against the air.

“Yes sir! Want you to fuck me, want you inside me-“

He groaned and humped into you, the metal of his belt buckle catching against your clit and making you flinch with overstimulation. Shouto noticed and pulled you closer as he stood at the side of the bed, your back flat against the mattress and your hips arched upwards to meet his bulge. He rutted into you again, forcing your pussy to kiss the metal of the buckle once more. You felt your body seizing up, your orgasm building inside you, and Shouto, with a sadistic gleam in his eyes, pressed his buckle harder against you.

The longer it stayed there, the more it heated up, almost more pain than pleasure, until Shouto wrapped your legs around his waist and thrust against you. There was a wet patch on his pants and you kept shrinking away from the burning hot metal that teased at your clit.

“You have no idea what you do to me, fucking hell-” He managed to spit out, “I’m not even inside you and you’re dripping all over me like a bitch in heat-”

He continued to hump you roughly, each time more forceful than the last until you came loudly as Shouto pushed your body into the belt buckle. “No more, Shouto, please, no more- its too much-”

“Too much for you already, hero? I haven’t even come yet. And you- how many times have you reached your climax today?”

You almost screamed with frustration- how were you supposed to know, you didn't fucking keep track-

“I can tell you, brat.” He grabbed your waist and flipped you easily onto your stomach. You were completely exposed to him now, unable to see his face, out of control entirely.

“You have come three fucking times. That doesn’t feel very fair to me, does it? Do you want my cum inside you?”

You buried your face into your pillow, and he pushed down slightly on your lower back, creating an arch. You startled when he teased his cockhead against the surface of your pussy, wetness coating his dick.

“Shouto, I want your cum-”

His palm came down hard on your asscheek, forcing a gasp out of you as he rubbed it softly with his palms. He leaned closer towards you, his voice whispering in your ear.

“Then beg.”

And, with your voice muffled by the pillow, you followed his orders.

“Sir, fuck me, please, please- I need you inside me, I need you to cum for me, please- Shouto, Daddy-“

Your begging got cut off by him thrusting into you. You screamed and he shushed you gently, holding your hand with his own. “Do you think you can take the rest of it?”

The rest of it? There was more? You looked over your shoulder and nearly passed out. You had barely taken half of his length and you were already completely filled up. But… you wanted to feel him, all of him, so you muttered a soft “yes.”

“Okay, baby, take it easy…” he eased a couple more inches into you before you tightened up, your pussy clenching and back arching as he slid in. “Oh fuck,” Shouto groaned. “Do that one more time and I won’t be able to hold back.”

And of course, you grinned. And proceeded to clench yourself around his length again.

Shouto nearly growled. “I warned you, hero.”

And then, he thrust into you. Hard. And he kept going, pumping in and out of your body like a machine, his thumb rubbing against your clit and his other hand on your leg. You are screaming and crying and babbling on about how good his cock is, how good you felt, how this is what you wanted. And Shouto? The cocky bastard was gloating.

“Look at you, such a good slut on my cock. Are you crying? God, thats so fucking hot. I’ve got a cute little hero crying on my dick. I know you can use your quirk now, Hero, I know Aizawa sensei returned it to you. Did you stay because you wanted me to fuck you like this? Did you want to be corrupted?”

“Yes,” you’re almost incoherent, “yes, ruin me, make me a villain, I wanna be a villain!”

Shouto slows his pace for a moment. “You would leave Endeavor? Leave the agency?”

“Yes, I would, Shouto, fuck, anything for you-”

He slapped the inside of your thigh before resuming his pace again. You had never felt so full before, his dick reaching places within you that you didn’t even know existed. His palms gripped the sides of your hips so tightly you thought you might bruise, tiny burn marks already forming in the place of his fingertips. You were close, so close, your tears and drool spilling over your pillow and your body limp and helpless before him. Shouto felt you clenching around him, completely spent.

“Do you want to cum again? What a greedy pussy you have, hero, a needy little cumdump.”

You couldnt get words out, croaking out your mumbled yeses and nodding your head vigorously. He pounded even harder into you and reached around your thighs to your clit, rubbing it in tiny circles as he fucked you. You could feel your climax building for the fourth time and you twitched pathetically beneath him. Finally, Shouto pinched your clit slightly and you came with a wail of his name.

He fucked you through your orgasm, but he was slower now, his strokes hitting you deeper than before.

“Do, fuck- do you want me to cum in your pretty pussy?”

Shouto was hunched over you, his head resting on your back and his arms caging you in so that he was all that surrounded you. His breath came out in cold pants and his thrusts got more and more erratic as he neared his own climax.

“Please, I need you to want this, I need you- shit, I...” You could hear the desperation in his voice, how he yearned for you, and you the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Yes, Daddy! Want you to come inside, fucking breed me-”

“Oh fuck, Y/n-”

And then Shouto came with a groan, his cum splattering your insides with warmth. He pressed kisses to your spine, trailing his fingers down your arms as he turned you to the side. He didn’t pull out of you as he did so, causing you to groan slightly. Finally, he released you and gently removed his dick from where you were connected. Some of his cum oozed out and he pushed it back in with his fingers, trapping his seed within you forever.

The pair of you laid together side by side for a moment, Shouto’s fingers tracing your body with slow, lingering touches as if he was afraid you would shatter the moment he pressed too hard.

You were the one who broke the silence. “ You said my real name.”

“I did. I love your name, Y/n. It just felt... wrong to say it when you were my prisoner. It was easier to distance myself from you if I just thought of you as a random hero. But you’re more than that now.”

You stared straight into his eyes, your hands reaching up to run gently through his silky hair. “I’m not leaving, Shouto. I’m never leaving this place. And I’m not just staying for you- I like it here. The villains like me, and they respect me. You aren’t bad people- if anything, the rest of the world has been far worse than anything or anyone I’ve faced here. It feels like I’m finally home.”

Shouto gathered you into his arms and pressed you tightly to his side. “You will be mine now,” he said almost matter-of-factly.

“And you will be mine as well.” You planted a small kiss to his nose that made his eyelids flutter and a slight blush crawl onto his cheeks.

“You deserve the world, Y/n,” he said hesitantly. “And I am not even close to being good enough for you.”

Shouto’s eyes were downcast and you could see the doubt creeping in. You gently pressed your fingers to his furrowed brows and soothed the wrinkles away. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” He asked.

“Put yourself down. You are more than enough for me. And Shouto? I don’t need the world. I already reached my sun.”

He smiled at you then, with no underlying malice, no undertone of darkness. It was blinding. Goddamn it, you would do anything to see that smile for the rest of your life.

“That was terribly cheesy, Y/n.”

“Shut up, Shouto.”

He kissed you, and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach fluttering up a storm. Todoroki Shouto was your sun, and you were his. And even if you both melted away under your flames, it would have been worth the loss.

-Bonus-

2 weeks later:

“So, uhm, Y/n, Todoroki, we were reviewing the footage from Y/n’s old room the other day. While we’re all happy you two are *ahem* together now, maybe you can display your... appreciation for one another in a more private place?” Kirishima was blushing profusely and refused to meet your eyes. Suddenly, it clicked for you.

“WE WERE BEING RECORDED?”

“And?”

“SHOUTO!”

“Ah yes, how horrible and violating, I feel as though I have been exposed indecently without my permission for the perverted public to see. They will be unable to contain themselves when faced with my immeasurably sexy figure.”

“You are NOT being helpful.”

“I beg to differ, Y/n. Kirishima, is there any way you can send me a copy of the tape-”

-----------

A/N: I hope you like this and please let me know if I should do a villain!UA series because I only write under the influence of peer pressure.

#todoroki x you #shouto smut #mha smut #shouto x y/n #shouto x reader #villain!shouto #todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #bnha smut #bnha fluff #mha imagines #bnha imagines #shouto fluff #shouto angst #nee talks

280 notes · View notes

writing-shroom · 3 years

Note

Hooo congrats for 200 <3 (this for the 200 event)

Heyoo:D oml oml ive never done a request before so baban I’m nervous ahhh I’m sorry if I did this wrong 🥲

Can I request prompts 6 and 40 with Kyōjurō ( if not kyo, then giyuu or uzui pls🌟) i watched mugen train last week and I’m dying so please can make it fluffy and just the kny au? That makes sense right? Like no au just the world they live in I’m confused uuih no preference really for type, just do whatever is easier for you <3 I was thinking maybe smth just domestic and soft because I’m a softie for soft things :D sry if this wasn’t clear enough

Byebye!! Have a great day shroomie~

(Can I call you that?)

No place like home // R. Kyojuro x Reader || 200 Celebration

Pairing: R.Kyojuro x reader [KNY au, yes this is to poke fun at tea /j /lh]

Summary/Prompts: You were patiently waiting by the engawa for your love to come home, just as you were about to retire to bed, a fire tipped haori caught your eye. Prompts 6 + 40; "Can you hold something for me?" "Yeah sure,,,dear that's your hand." "I know" + Clinging hugs, not wanting let go in fear of losing them.

Words: 2,1K words

Warning: TW! Mentions of injuries, no mcd we're not doing that here nonono, im not gonna hurt y'all like that. Not proofreaded (?), you've been warned.

Gender neutral reader!

a/n: teeeaaaaa my bestie how you've been :DD i just talked to you a few hours ago but still, i never wrote for kyojuro before i hope i do his character right .m. but i just had to! we need to keep san loyal here 👏👏😂 /lh /j

You scrunched your face, the cold nighttime wind made your hair smack against your cheeks. Puffing away the stray strands away from your eye, you sighed and brought your knees to your chin.

"(Y/N)-san? What are you still doing awake?"

Yelping, you abruptly turned around. Only to find little Senjuro standing by the sliding doors.

"I could ask you the same thing Sen," You jested, wrapping your arms around your legs tucked under your chin. "Kyojuro wouldn't be happy to see you staying up so late."

He sat down next to you, fiddling with his fingers.

"I know, but I couldn't sleep." Another sign of his anxiousness were his feet swinging back and forth off the side of the engawa. "Not when aniki's on a mission."

Feeling your heart sink, you sighed and pulled Senjuro to your side. "He'll come home, like he always does remember?"

Was that meant to comfort him or you? You weren't really sure, but you knew it didn't really work on either of you. Kyojuro always came home, he promised he would.

But, this mission felt different.

A train was being suspected of demon activity, mugen train if you remembered correctly. Normally when your boyfriend would go on his mission you had not a single doubt that he would be coming home, you had gotten used to it.

This time however, something didn't feel right. He should be back by now.

"Come Senjuro, let's get you to bed," You coaxed, ruffling his hair. "Then when you have enough energy in the morning, we can make some snacks for when Kyo comes back."

He debated over the idea, on one hand he wants to stay up with you but on the other he was really sleepy. The yawn escaping his mouth was proof of it. And it didn't help that you were running your hand soothingly across his back, you were trying to get him to sleep and he knew it.

Giving in he nodded sleepily, letting you pulled him by the hand to his bedroom.

"Good night Sen," You got an incoherent mumble and a loose hug as your response, he meant well though, he's just really tired.

Sliding his bedroom door shut you stepped back, maybe you should've tried to comfort him more. But what else could you say? Sighing you massaged your temple and walked down the hall.

You should probably head to bed too.

It didn't matter if he came home littered with cuts and bruises, Kyojuro would be worried sick if he found out that you stayed up all night waiting for him. Shaking your head laughing fondly at the memory, still remembering the way he was racing around the place, panicking over the fact that you had a cold.

Taking the scenic route, you walked pass the entrance, wanting to check in one last time. Just in case he came home tonight.

Staying there for a few minute, you sighed disappointedly when you didn't see his oh so familiar red tipped golden hair coming towards you. Guess it's bed for you then.

Breathing out on your freezing hands you walked slowly round the corner, you hoped he was warm where ever he was. As you were about to disappear behind the corner a fire bordered haori appeared in the corner of you eye.

He's home

Spinning around you took a double take, just incase it was your sleep deprived mind playing tricks on you. But no, there he was, standing up with the help of some kakushi but he was there.

"Kyo!"

He wasn't expecting you to be up, his surprise was evident with the way his body straighten out suddenly, trying to walk to you but failing. The two kakushi at his side panicked momentary to catch him, but they sighed in relief when they did.

"(Y/N)? What you doing up? You should be sleeping," He asked when you rushed over to meet them in the middle.

A quick chat with the kakushi brought you up to date, upper moon three had unexpectedly appeared during his mission. Luckily he had manage to hold it in a stand still until sunrise, where the demon fled to hide from the morning sun.

But of course, he suffered some injuries, some more serious than others.

Trapping Kyojuro within your embrace you helped him stand upright in place of the two kakushi, who had already said their farewells and now are just leaving. Once you couldn't hear their footsteps anymore, you buried your head in the crook of his neck.

"My dear what's wrong?"

You but your lip, tightening your arms around him, not wanting to let go incase you actually did fall asleep and this was all just a dream. It never occurred to you how easy it was for you to lose him while he's on a mission miles away, but seeing him stagger in —barely being able to stand by himself and covered in bandages— it shook you body and mind.

Pinching your eyes shut, you ignored the tears rolling down your face and clutched onto the back of his clothing, sending your gratitude to what ever powers that lies above for letting him come home to you and Senjuro.

While the sun rose behind you, the both of you stayed there for a few more minutes. Just soaking in each other's warmth or a little while longer, squeezing him one last time you stepped back a little —you figured it was time for him to get some rest after such a tiring mission.

Kyojuro whined when he couldn't feel your embrace any more, making you giggle and sling his arm over your should to keep him balanced.

"We can cuddle later, right now you need to get some rest," You tried reasoning, laughing when your boyfriend retorted that cuddling you is resting.

Leading him to your shared room, you helped him sit down at the futon and handed him some clothes to change into before rushing off to get some water. Not only for him to drink but to wash away some of the grim they couldn't clean in the rush to cover his wounds.

You'll have to make a quick trip to the butterfly estate to get more salves and gauze, but that didn't matter, Kyo was home now.

Taking one step into your bedroom you burst into a fit of laughter when you walked in on your said boyfriend struggling to get his hair in order, some of it disobeying him entirely and made a crown of spiked up fire-like hair surrounding his head.

Hearing the sound of your laughter, Kyojuro froze and looked up at you as best he can from underneath all the hair falling in front of his face.

While he was being dazzled by you, his grip became loose and now even more of his red tipped locks fell on his face. Spluttering and blowing away some of it, his vision only partly came back when you brushed a portion away. Still chuckling, you continued sweeping away his hair from his eyes.

"There we go," Grabbing a brush, you gently combed through his hair, untangling any knots you find along the way.

Meanwhile Kyojuro sat there obediently and simply enjoyed the feeling of your fingers brushing his hair, humming contently when you message his scalp lightly. He'll say hello to Senjuro in the morning, he didn't want to wake him up in the middle of the night after all.

Feeling your hands move from his hair to his shoulders, he pulled on them to bring you forward, making you press against his back. You propped your chin up against his shoulder, in return he turned slightly to nuzzle his cheek against yours.

Circling your arms around his shoulders you placed a kiss against his temple, intertwining his hands with yours he breathed out.

He was glad to be home.

The sun was high in the sky by the time Kyojuro woke up again, but he didn't want to just yet. Rolling over to his side, he tried reaching over to hug you, only to grab a pillow instead.

'Wait, this isn't (Y/N).'

Groggily blinking at the pillow, it took him a moment to finally realise that you weren't in bed with him.

Pouting a bit he grunted as he tried sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Kyojuro looked around the room to see if you where there or not. Sniffing the air however he smelled someone cooking sweet potatoes, oh he knew where you were.

"(Y/N)-san! I'm going to clean up the garden," Senjuro said taking off his apron. "I'll go extra fast though! So I can come back when aniki's awake."

Chuckling you set down the knife and pat his head, "Okay but, don't rush yourself Sen."

Leaving with a nod, he went out to do the task while you finished up preparing lunch. Nothing but the quiet thuds of your knife cutting through vegetables could be heard in the kitchen.

While normally you would trust Senjuro to cut the vegetables while you could clean up the house. He's so excited that his brother's home, that he wants to get through his chores as quick as possible, and it was less likely for him to get hurt with a broom than it is a knife.

Speaking of which,

"Good morning my dearest," A voice said behind you while wrapping their arms around your waist.

"It's the afternoon Kyojuro, but yes good morning darling." Looking behind you, you scrunched your face when you were met with a kiss in between your eyebrows.

"Can I help you in anyway?" He asked, like every other time you were in the kitchen, still tilting his head to the side cutely as always.

"No no no, you're injured therefor have to rest," Setting down the knife again, you tried shooing him away back to the bedroom. The attempt was unsuccessful since he simply shuffled to side a lil to avoid your pushing.

Crossing your arms, you and Kyojuro entered a staring match. It was a wonder how you even lasted five seconds against his pleading eyes, sighing you gave up and linked your arms together so you could guide him over to the kitchen counter to help you with the vegetables.

Happy with his new job, he worked by your side, both of your cracking a few jokes here and there or maybe starting up a new conversation.

Finally after roughly half an hour you were done. Wiping down the table, you took off your apron and was about to call Senjuro back for lunch.

"Can you hold something for me?" It was an innocent question, so you went along with it.

"Yeah sure,,,dear that's your hand."

"I know"

Looking up at your boyfriend, who had a cheeky grin on his face, you rolled your eyes at his cheesiness and pecked his cheek so he would let you go for a just little bit. But when you tried walking away you were stopped by Kyojuro still holding your hand.

Huffing affectionately and you let him twirl you back into his arms. "Hun you are being really sweet right now and I think it's absolutely adorable," You started, poking his nose playfully. "But I need to get Senjuro for lunch."

Perking up at the mention of his brother, Kyojuro's eyebrows shot up as he grinned. "Where is he by the way? I tried looking for him but i couldn't find him."

"Aniki!"

Came another voice behind him, swiftly turning around he spotted Senjuro running towards him.

"Right there," You answered too late, the brothers were already hugging. Each had wide grins, and you could maybe see a few tears pricking out of the corners of Senjuro's eyes. You'll wiped his face later, going to set the table you let them have their moment.

It was much too sweet for you to interrupt anyways.

Taking a sip of tea from your cup, you sat at your end of the table gazing at the bright blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds. What a nice day to be together.

woof another one done :3 eee can't believe im your first request ;w; i hope i did it justice lovely! reading ur request was so cute, never stop being cute hun. nothin like a bit of soft angst to make the fluff even sweeter, and yes you can absolutely call me shroomy please do not stop. Remember to stay safe and hydrated lovelies! Hope everyone had a good day, and I'll see you in the next fic :DD

Event closed! ☼ Masterlist ☼

#🍪200.milestone #🍪200.celebration #🍪200.event #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojurou x reader #rengoku x reader #🌼friends #☕️teeea #look tea and cookies :D #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #shroom kny fic

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euphoriyoongi · 3 years

Text

Yoongi Historical au/ Royalty au

prompt requested: number 7:

I’m secretly in love with you but you never seemed to give me the time of day but you all of a sudden tell me you love me and my only thought was to make out with you.

Summary:

As the daughter of the military director, you’ve always had a liking towards the crown prince, Yoongi. Now, many years later, as your secretly in love with him, he’s secretly in love with you.

Pairing: prince!yoongi x reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Genre: royalty! au, historical au, friends to lovers

Warnings: none.

_________________________________________________

Joseon Era.

As a child, you dreamed to marry Yoongi. Too bad he was way out of your league.

Not look wise, but rank wise.

He was the only son of the king, heir to the throne. Now you were decently high up as well, being the daughter of the military head, but not even close to being able to even dream about him.

You didn't have a chance. Not even a thought. It's not like he would even like you back anyway, given how he was never one to look into your eyes when you'd speak to him, as if talking to you wasn't important anyway.

As you both aged together, you've noticed him always walk around the palace without any guards, always sneaking around to be alone. He'd never want any attention drawn to him, and if you would wave your hand to say hi, well, chances are that he would walk right past you.

It was hard, as the years flew by and you were still left with the heart wrenching feeling of a one-sided love. It was long enough to call it that, since you have been into him since you laid eyes on him.

Your father and the king were very good friends, and would often bring you to visit him whenever they'd have something to chat about. So you would sit off the the side with Yoongi, who never seemed to be able to replace the frown on his face with a smile.

The only time you had ever seen a smile on his face was when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, only for him to drop it as soon as you turned towards him.

Now in your mid twenties, your father is begging you to marry. You are at the age where you should have at least two kids now. For you to be single and constantly training to become a good fighter just like your father was, you didn't believe you had time for children. And anyway, ever since you turned fifteen to now, you used the excuse that you wished to marry when you met the one.

Your father now tried to bring up the conversation of marriage at this moment, and you stood pin straight, facing the target ahead of you with a bow and arrow in hand, ready to shoot. "But y/n, you really have to think about how important it is. You'll be thirty years old in no time!" He exclaimed, and as he slammed his foot down in irritation, you let the bow slide through your fingers, releasing it only for it to hit the corner of the target.

Groaning, you drop the bow to your side. "Father, I have more important things to be doing." You hummed, giving him the side eye as he stared at you with worry. You reached up to dry a patch of sweat on your forehead.

You used to tell him how much you wanted to marry the prince as a kid, but now it seemed too childish to use as an excuse. She knew she would never be able to marry him anyway, since he probably would have to be married to someone specific.

Yoongi was quite the character. He rarely spoke, but always wanted to leave the palace and go into the town, where his friends would live. He had a select few, and would also run into you as you went on errands.

Whenever he'd spot you, either in the palace or town, he'd stare at you for a moment and look away, almost telling himself not to even pay attention to you. It always made you upset, making you wonder why he would never pay attention to you. It's not like he didn't know you.

You lived your whole life pining over him. From the way he slightly dragged his feet across the dirt, to the way he would always wear a large hat to hide his face whenever he'd leave the palace, you loved him. He was the person you wished to marry even after all these years.

It seemed childish, yes. But if you were to marry and bear children, it would have to be to him. And if it wasn't him, well, it was no one. But your dad didn't need to know that information. "Listen, father, I will marry when I find the one." You said to him, lifting up your bow to shoot another arrow. "Just give me time."

He seemed to understand that you were trying to focus, and stepped back a few feet. Hearing him sigh, you gave him a side eye. "Okay okay. I'm sorry. I just want the best for you." He smiled, giving you a little bow in respect. "I'm off to meet the king for lunch. If you would like to pay your regards to him, let me know."

The arrow slipped through your hand again, now completely missing the target board all together. "Will the prince be there?" You didn't mean to ask this, but you couldn't help it. You haven't seen Yoongi for weeks, and you wished to see his beautiful face again. Would it be so vain to just..use the king as an excuse to see him?

Now, the king loved you. He wished Yoongi was as dedicated as you were, and always asked to see you when your father would visit. You had wished that he would ask you to marry his son, but knowing that it would make no impact with the kingdom, it was out of the question. He was probably just happy with his son having a friend of sorts.

Your father let a smirk reach his lips. "Hm. I'm sure he would be, if he's not galavanting in the village or anything."

Maybe she should stop by to greet the king. "I'll come with you." You said, smiling without paying attention. "I'm sure he'd be happy to see me."

Your father laughed. "I'm sure someone else would be happier."

"Greetings, your majesty." You bowed along side of your father as you stood in front of the king, who was sitting under the pavilion.

Smiling, the king beckoned you both to come under the shade of the pavilion.

Sitting next to him was Yoongi, who looked bored out of his mind. His gaze didn't even reach you, and you looked away from him and back to the king as you walked up the stairs. So much for coming here to see him.

The meal went on, your dad chatting with the king and talking about marriage. You pretty much tuned the whole thing out, given that you say next to Yoongi, who scooted over in the opposite direction of you.

Ouch. Now you knew you really didn't have a chance with him.

"I'm surprised you're sitting down with us, my son." The king bellowed, smiling at Yoongi who sat to his right, you sitting next to Yoongi. He huffed and picked up his utensils to start eating. "Usually you're out in the village—undercover I hope."

Yoongi hummed, not even answering with a word, and continued to eat, and the king brought his attention elsewhere. He faced your dad, smiling. "So, I'm surprised your daughter isn't married yet! My my, what a beauty."

You glanced over to Yoongi, who still stared down at his food. "Yeah, she has a few men lined up to marry her." Your father laughed, making the king chuckle as well. Yoongi finally looked up when he heard those words, now paying full attention to the conversation as he gripped his silk gown tightly in his fist.

"Oh I always wondered why a beautiful girl like her was still unwed." The king smiled over at you, and glanced at his son, who seemed to turn a bit red. "Im sure the wedding will be soon then, eh?"

Your dad hummed as he drank some rice wine. "Ah, yes. Whoever is her husband is sure one lucky guy."

"Why would be be lucky?" Yoongi scoffed, sipping his drink. "She's not even that pretty."

Silence. You nearly dropped your cup as he said this, staring at him with wide eyes.

Your dad cleared his throat and set down his cup. "Well at least you spoke today. I haven't heard your voice in ages..." he carried off, seeming offended by Yoongi's choice of words that were against his beloved daughter.

The king glared at his son. "Yoongi, that is no way to talk to our guests." He then looked over at you, noticing your dumbstruck look. "Please forgive him, he doesn't really socialize well."

Yoongi scoffed again, now slamming his cup against the table. "Why are you guys even pestering her about marriage, anyway? She has no chance with anyone other than—" he cut himself off, looking at you with a solemn expression out of all of his anger. When he noticed your eyes droop away from him and down the the table, he sighed and didn't finish what he was going to say.

Everyone was quiet. The sudden outburst from Yoongi put everyone off, even his father. As Yoongi glanced from your dad to you, you had enough of this degrading. Even though he was the one you dreamed to be with, it wasn't right for him to say those things about you.

You stood up and bowed. "I will take my leave." You said, looking to the king and to your father. "Thank you, your majesty."

He signaled oh that it was okay to leave, and you nearly ran down the steps as if to get away from the embarrassment. How did you not know that Yoongi felt so strongly for you in the most opposite way you wanted? What was the reason for him to hate you—

"Y/n!" You heard a voice yell behind you, the smack of footsteps getting louder and louder. You had stopped in your tracks, standing next to your favorite tree in the palace, the beautiful cherry blossom.

It was Yoongi behind you. He had reached you, now bent over and out of breath as if he just ran a mile. "Ah, you're fast."

You turned around with your arms across your chest. "What do you want?" You looked at him in the eye, and he stared back, nearly begging for forgiveness.

He sighed, kicking a rock that was near his feet. "I uh..." he carried off, now not being able to look at you.

No matter how mean he was to you, he always looked stunningly beautiful. His long dark hair was pulled up, his silky gown matching his hair. He had quite the scar across his cheek, but it made him more attractive in her eyes. As he stumbled on his words, you took the chance to speak. “Listen, your highness, I don’t what to hear your explanation.” You seethe, upset about how he feels towards you. “I don’t know what you were trying to say back there, but I got the message. Clearly.” You growled, turning away from him as you kept your tears in check.

Yoongi reached his arm out to touch your shoulder, making you jump. “What? What are you doing?” You asked, looking down at the ground once again, seeing the rock that he kicked was now near your feet.

“I just…” he carried off again, unable to speak the words on his mind.

You needed to get out of here before the tears began to fall. You were the daughter of the military head, how dare you cry over a boy. At least that’s what you tell yourself. You turned around quickly. “No, your highness, I’m not going to stand here and listen to how ugly I am. How I’m never going to be married because of my looks, how I—“

“I love you.” He sputtered out, looking anywhere but your eyes. “I’ve loved you since you taught me how to sword fight…and when you told me my scar was beautiful..” he carried on, now looking into your eyes with a small smile on his lips. “I didn’t mean any of that stuff back there, I was just upset to picture you..getting married to someone else.”

You were shocked. You stood there, your eyes wide open, standing in front of the man you always wished had feelings for you. And now he’s spilling his guts about how he loved you and—well, what the hell?

He stared into your eyes with worry. You weren’t saying anything back, and just when he was going to say something else, you leaned forward and let your lips touch his, out in the open courtyard for anyone to see.

You kissed him with all of the emotions you held back for as long as you could remember, and it startled him. He didn’t kiss back immediately, but as you pushed your body into his and gripped the back of his head to deepen it, he pushed his face towards you and grabbed onto your hips, pulling them flush against his.

His lips tasted like the cherry blossom tea that he drank, and his hands felt like ecstasy as they nearly tore through your clothing. His touch was like a drug you so desperately needed, and the taste of him made you feel even higher.

All that time you dreamed of kissing him could never live up to this moment, and when you pulled away, your hands still cradling his face, his still resting on your hips, he stared into your eyes and began to chuckle. You laughed back, resting your forehead on his.

“So,” he trailed on, his smile visible. “I’ll take that as an I love you too..?”

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fanfic #min yoongi #friends to lovers #daechwita #royalty au #historical au #bts royal au #bts historical au

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lovclyboncs · 3 years

Text

Everything I Wanted 2/2 (F!Reader x Todoroki)

soulmate Au! Where your soulmate tattoo appears on your wrist after you touch your soulmate for the first time.

F!reader x Todoroki

F!Reader x Bakugou (brotp)

Plot: the reader is Todoroki’s soulmate. Todoroki rejected reader because he thought he was in love with Momo and didn’t want to let fate dictate his life. Now the two of them have a conversation that was long over due.

Part one

Before getting on with the story I want to give a huge thanks to everyone who reblogged and liked part one, it means the world to me that there is people out there who enjoyed my writing, and a big thank you to @dillybuggg and to @power-house-fan12 for encouraging me to write another part sending so much love to you guys!!! 💗💗💗

“Someday?”

“Someday.”

"Todoroki-san, I met my soulmate."

"oh."

" I think we should come clean to our classmates, i really want to see where this goes"

Todoroki couldn’t blame her. They were foolish to think their puppy love could stand strong against fate.

Todoroki and Momo had been walking on eggshells around each other during their first year at UA. They were attracted to each other even though they weren’t each other’s destined partner. Trust them they checked, they had been so hopeful only for it to crumble when their left wrists were still void of black Ink even after they had their first kiss.

They had been laying low with their blossoming relationship until the fateful day Shoto and (y/n) first touched.

Shoto didn’t know what to think of (l/n). She didn’t stand out as a person or a hero in training, so when they were paired up on a project there seemed to be a never ending silence between them, with his lack of social skills and her lack of- well everything they didn’t even know where to begin. After a couple of awkward questions about what they wanted to do, they were able to get started, and he thought then that (l/n) wasn’t so bad, but when he dropped his pencil and they both reached for it, that’s when it all went south. He remembers the stinging feeling he felt on his wrist and couldn’t help flinching at the uncomfortable sensation.

He didn’t need to look at his wrists to know what had happened and he didn’t need to think twice before grabbing his things and giving a quiet excuse for his sudden need to be very far away from (l/n).

It wasn’t until he was locked away safely in his room that he dared look at his wrist, and there it was in bold black ink, in a surprisingly illegible yet legible font, how does someone achieve that? ‘(Y/n) (l/n)’.

He’s not quite sure how long he stared at it, but he knows that by the time he was able to organize his thoughts there were birds chirping out side welcoming the new day.

He had rejected her.

She had been okay with it.

He didn’t tell Momo who his soulmate was, but he did tell her that he didn’t want to continue hiding their relationship. What was stopping them from sharing their happiness with the rest of the class? Momo believed they would be looked down on for not waiting on their soulmates. It wasn’t common for people to date anyone who wasn’t their soulmate, it was even more uncommon to reject a soulmate, but look at him, he did it and he was perfectly fine- they were perfectly fine.

Momo was the one who came up with the idea to draw on their soulmate tattoos, unaware of the fact that there already was a name on Todoroki’s wrist, unaware of the pain she was causing to that other half.

Coming clean to their classmates had gone surprisingly well, and Todoroki wasn’t sure how he felt about that, about that fact that (y/n) didn’t yell or question him on the why.

Why had he lied?

Why had he covered her up like she was something not worth looking at?

Why did he rub his relationship in her face?

Why not give them a chance if he was gonna chase something temporary?

Instead she had looked him in the eyes and gifted him a soft smile.

After everyone had scattered around the common area after their announcement, Todoroki decided to sit outside and take a breather.

He couldn’t help but sigh.

Thinking back to the day he and (y/n) first touched, he wished he hadn’t been such a coward.

He wished he had given her a chance to speak, because looking back now he realized that he did all the talking, he called all the shots not giving her a say in the matter.

She followed his wishes and yet he can’t help but want to be selfish and take it all back.

He had been wrong to think she had been lacking anything because she was everything. She was perfect to him, for him.

He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.

Fate had told him she was his, a gift from the universe to cherish and like a spoiled brat he threw it away, ruined it. ‘Seems to run in the family’, he thought bitterly.

(Y/n) (L/n) was everything he wanted and he didn’t deserve her.

The worst part was that the person who helped him realize that was the hotheaded blonde of 1-A (now 2-A).

He was the one who brought out the best in (y/n) or maybe the only one who had bothered to listen, who had bothered to truly see her.

Todoroki couldn’t help but resent him for it yet he was grateful, because without Bakugou pushing her to open up, he would have never realized that he had shut the door on something beautiful without opening it.

“Why are you out here? Curfew is in 20 minutes” he heard her soft voice.

He didn’t reply and he felt her sit beside him on the stairs.

And there was silence.

What could he possibly say now?

Im sorry? That seemed too shallow

“It’s okay you know?” She began.

He finally listened.

“I’ll be honest, it had hurt- you had hurt me when you shut me out without giving me a chance to prove myself worthy of being on your wrist. I questioned if it had been something I did, something I didn’t do, or if it had been my appearance that had caused you to utter those words. Bakugou told me that it shouldn’t be something I beat myself over, that if it had been me that you would have told me, but you didn’t. You just told me that your heart belonged to another”

She stopped and finally looked at him, and he at her.

“ Im sorry things between you two didn’t work out how you wanted them to-” she had began, but he didn’t let her finish.

“Don’t. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I thought I knew what I wanted and if I’m being honest I think I just wanted to be able to choose at least one thing for myself.” He said without thinking, it was time he stopped hiding from the truth, the selfish truth he hid under his not so pure love for Momo.

“Ever since I was born I have been nothing but a tool for my father. The just right child with the just right quirk. I wasn’t allowed to spend time with my siblings, I wasn’t allowed to play, I wasn’t allowed to make my own decision. It was always my father, and then I found out I wasn’t able to choose who I wanted to be with because apparently fate did that, so I would question what it is that I got to decide for myself

because if fate and my father made the decisions then what was I left with? What part of my life was actually mines for the taking?” He looked at the ground unable to continue meeting her eyes.

“So even if it’s not enough I do apologize, (y/n), for thinking so selfishly that I didn’t take into consideration the fact that you didn’t choose me either and that I didn’t try to make it easier for the both of us” he said clenching his fist to keep some sort of anchor on his mess of emotions.

Todoroki felt a small hand (or at least smaller that his own) lay on top of his own.

“Maybe we’ve both been going about this the wrong way? So what if we have each other’s name on our wrist? that doesn’t mean we should get married next week” (y/n) said in an attempt to lighten his load, to let him know that he didn’t need to beat himself over it just like she didn’t need to.

“ let’s just start as friends and see how things go and then maybe someday who knows” she shrugged her shoulders casually and flashed him a smile.

Todoroki looked at her and she at him.

He relaxed his hand that was underneath her and let himself hold her hand.

“Someday?” He asked

“Someday” she grinned.

(Y/n) cleared her throat and held her hand out for a handshake making him raise an eyebrow

“Hi my name is (y/n) (l/n) let’s be friends”

“I’m Shoto Todoroki, and I would like that very much”

“ I’m Aizawa, the teacher and you two need to get to bed”

“Yes sir!”

#mha x reader #todoroki x reader #anime #anime angst #my hero fanfic #my hero x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki shoto #fanfiction #anime fanfic #class 1 a #healing #friendship #angst oneshot #brotp #strwbrrybratff

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autisticandroids · 3 years

Note

Okay so this was a while back but im preety sure you had mentioned an au of yours where dean is a serial killer and cas successfully stalks him but i don't think you talked about it more than that and i just really want to hear a bit more bc that idea sounds so tastefully fucked up

okay so. weeks later i finally end up answering this ask. it inspired this post btw. anyway spn is a show that's like. all about justifications, as i said in the post inspired by this ask. it's about having no choice and doing what you have to do. and like there is the phantasy embedded in it, a phantasy that is both indulged and punished. but most importantly it's justified. the monsters are super strong to show how brave our heroes are for fighting them, the main characters let out great wails of grief every time their lady loves are violently ripped from them (even though now they are free to do whatever they want), the narrative twists to show our heroes as correct whatever they do. the fantasy (of being allowed to enact violence, of being free from feminine "control," of being right) comes first. the material construction of the universe of supernatural comes afterward. whatever the fantasy is, the universe of supernatural will provide material conditions to justify its acting-out.

and what this means is that our protagonists, dean in particular, are constantly doing just horrific things, which in any other circumstance would be unconscionable. but the universe of supernatural provides justification for these acts. the point of my serial killer au which i think about so so so much is to ask the question: what if these justifications melted out from under their feet? what if dean was left holding nothing but a lie and the weight of everything he's done?

therefore, the premise of my au is such (under the cut because this baby is long):

john and mary winchester, in the mid seventies, joined a doomsday cult known as the men of letters. the men of letters were rather unusual for a doomsday cult, in that they believed that the apocalypse could be prevented by human behavior. this started as correct living, correct worship, yadda yadda, the kind of behavior and thought control that cults are known for, but with the justification of: if you don't do this, the world will end. eventually, this escalated to human sacrifice. the men of letters managed to untraceably kill two homeless people in the late seventies. but they eventually fell apart. however, a month after john and mary left the men of letters (mostly john's choice, mary still believed), mary died in a house fire. john took it as a sign from god that actually, the men of letters were right, and the world would end unless john himself did something about it. so he took some of the (intensely numerological) theology of the men of letters. and he worked out his own formula. and he applied it to the yellow pages. and started ritualistically killed people to prevent the apocalypse, with his two sons in the back of the car.

now, obviously, this is some kind of grief induced temporary madness on john's part, shaped by the mental abuse he suffered in the men of letters. but the thing is, once you've killed a couple of people to prevent the apocalypse. well. there's this thing called the sunk costs fallacy. john wasn't gonna question his own beliefs after that.

and he raised his boys to believe it, too, or at least he raised dean to. they didn't tell sam what they did until he was twelve, and sam didn't buy it, tried to call the cops on them several times but in the end, they always prevented him. eventually sam ran off to stanford, where he now lives under a cloud of guilt that he's too loyal to his family to rat them out.

john died a few years back of a heart attack, but dean is convinced it's because he messed up a ritual two weeks before it happened, so it pushed him further into this belief system.

dean's killings (and john's before him) are ritualistic and distinctive, obviously the same killer each time. but they happen anywhere in the united states, seemingly at random, there are inconsistent amounts of time between each one (sometimes as short as days, sometimes as long as years), and there is no particular victim profile. obviously, since our killers are following an arcane mathematical formula to make their choices for them, but the police don't know that.

castiel novak is an unemployed shut-in with a small inheritance which he's living off of, a cryptography degree, and an obsession with all things morbid. he spends most of his time on the reddit true crime forums, playing amateur sleuth. by complete chance, he happens to recognize one of the symbols frequently used in corpse displays by the so-called sioux falls satanic slaughterer (so named because the first time three of his victims were in the same part of the country, it so happened that they were all in sioux falls, south dakota. this was in the late eighties.) as being mostly only used by a little known cult group called the men of letters, which dissolved in the mid eighties.

he only notices this because, as a teen, he had a special interest in cults and fringe religious groups. the men of letters weren't a particularly notable or well known phenomenon; they were small, and a lot like every other cult that formed during the seventies cult boom. (no outsider ever heard about the human sacrifice; there were rumors, of course, but they were garbled, sensationalized, and mixed up with satanic panic fodder.)

(the men of letters' two sacrifices were nothing particularly romantic or fantastical. they first lured panhandler josie sands back to their compound with promises of food and a warm bed when she admitted she couldn't get a bed at a shelter, and was thinking of getting caught shoplifting just so she could be under a roof in the county jail. the men of letters' leader, a man who took on the name alistair, forced his inner circle to dress in the ceremonial black robes he had given them when he initiated them into his nearest and dearest, and which his wife had sewn out of old bed sheets and dyed black with home made oak gall dye. these robes still left black smudges on the wearer's skin occasionally if they sweated too much. josie was laid, bound, on the altar, a slapdash thing constructed over the course of two days from scrap plywood and a couple of milk crates. a rich red tablecloth purchased at macy's for $3.99 hid its ugliness and gave it grandeur. alistair attempted to kill the struggling miss sands by bringing a sharpened kitchen knife down on her bosom and piercing her heart, but, having never killed a human or even slaughtered an animal before, was unaware of the problem presented by the human ribcage. after rather ineffectually poking at the area beneath sands' bosom with his knife while she shrieked in pain and terror for about ninety seconds, alistair tried a different tack, and slit her throat, which worked just fine, and she bled out quite nicely. the second and final victim of the men of letters was a local vagrant named larry ganem, an older gentleman who walked with a limp. he was lured back to the compound in approximately the same manner as sands, but instead of being bound, he was fed stew laced with sleeping pills. even if alistair hadn't slit his throat, he wouldn't have woken up. it's actually arguable whether he was still alive at time of sacrifice; mary winchester (eight months into her first pregnancy), who, as a member of the inner circle, was in attendance, actually tried to take ganem's pulse as he lay on the altar (now covered by a different tablecloth; the red one had turned stiff with sands' blood and been subsequently burned) and found nothing, so it is entirely possibly only sands' death can be directly laid at alistair's feet, and ganem's is the fault of mrs. ellen harvelle, who prepared the laced stew. regardless, these two deaths are lessons in the nature of human evil: it is very rarely skilled, suave, or smooth. it's often slapdash, half-hearted, and just plain incompetent. but that makes it no less grisly. alistair may have begun to drink his own kool-aid, as it were, and escalated this far out of genuine belief that the apocalypse was coming and it was up to him to stop it, but it is far more likely that he sensed the imminent collapse of his little empire, and wanted to bind his subjects to him through the horrors of shared guilt, considering two lives a small price to pay for the continued loyalty of his inner circle. and the tactic worked: the men of letters didn't start to collapse in earnest until almost four years later. perhaps if alistair had continued the killings, the men of letters could have lasted for far longer, maybe even up until the present day. but it seems that alistair, a psychiatrist by training and unused to violence, simply didn't have the stomach for it. unlike, say, john winchester, who before his time with the men of letters had done a two year tour in vietnam, during which he had killed three living, thinking human beings with the american government's go-ahead.)

anyway. castiel is the first person, ever, to make the connection between the men of letters and the sioux falls satanic slaughterer. and once that connection is made, castiel begins to research the men of letters far more in-depth. and he notices something: the theology of the men of letters was intensely numerological, filled with patterns, significant numbers, and even spiritual equations.

castiel thinks of the seemingly random selection of the slaughterer's victims, and has an epiphany.

he cracks all his fingers, and gets coding.

six months. it takes castiel six months to discover an equation that could fit the slaughterer's pattern. it's complex, but also clearly based on several of the men of letters' holy numbers, and accounts for every single one of the killings. it also suggests that there should have been two or three more deaths scattered across the years, but more than likely those did happen, it's just that they weren't reported as part of the slaughterer's portfolio.

but much more importantly, castiel's model can also make predictions. there will be two killings, fifteen days apart, in a city seven hours' drive away, six weeks from now.

so castiel waits. and he books a hotel room. and two months later, he's waiting outside 217 oak street when a shadowy figure climbs up a tree and lets itself into the upstairs window.

dean winchester is feeling particularly all alone in the world when he breaks into maisey banks' home (217 oak street). his father has been dead for half a decade, and he hasn't spoken to his baby brother for twice that. it's not like this whole grizzly saving the world business makes him a lot of friends. so once he's done killing maisey (which is easy, she was ninety three and dying of cancer anyway. she doesn't even wake up when he slits her throat) and arranging her corpse in the appropriate manner, with prayers and sigils, he turns around. and sees a man standing behind him.

smiling slightly.

as he watches dean gut this old woman.

dean freezes.

the man takes a step forward.

"you're very attractive for a serial killer who's been operating since the eighties."

dean is silent.

"family business, is it?"

silence continues.

"i'm not here to report you to police. i'm just here to see if my algorithm worked right."

and dean finally breaks his silence: "what the hell is wrong with you?"

what's fun here is that dean knows (or rather "knows") that he isn't a serial killer. so he finds what cas is doing, this amoral serial killer stormchasing, morally repugnant. because cas has no way of knowing he isn't a regular serial killer.

there's also the fact that that cas proceeds to flirt with him. aggressively. and follows him back to his motel.

but the thing is that dean is all alone in the world. and as cas continues trailing him around, he starts getting, well, flattered. and feeling a little bit less alone.

it doesn't take very long before they fall into bed. even if cas is an amoral stalker with a fetish for what dean considers a distasteful yet necessary vocation.

so. they fall into bed. they fall in love. they make a little life together, in dean's big sexy car. dean tries to explain to cas that he's saving the world. that these people's lives are a necessary price to pay. and cas seems to listen.

of course, castiel doesn't believe a word of it. but he's found that he likes dean. really likes him. and he realizes that the collapse of dean's belief system would destroy him.

so he sets about becoming as complicit in it as possible.

even to the extent where, when dean is hit by a car and ends up into the hospital a day before one killing is meant to take place, castiel agrees to take on the job. (he doesn't actually kill anyone, obviously. but he does use his extensive skill with computers to create three fake newspaper articles which make it look like he has.)

but five years later, something goes wrong. really, really wrong. dean miscalculates the formula. and by the time he checks his work, the actual date of the next kill, as demanded by the formula, has passed. in fact, so have three others. and the world didn't end.

dean collapses. he hyperventilates. all those people. all those people. for no reason. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people.

cas seems totally unfazed. dean stares at him in shock. but cas just takes dean in his arms, and whispers in his ear: "oh, dean, i never believed in the equation. i love you no matter what you've done."

and dean buries his face in cas' chest.

#spn #asks #anonymous #abuse tw #violence tw

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barsformars · 3 years

Text

SOULMATES AU!ATEEZ

req: hiii, idk if you are still accepting requests, but im trying anyways. How about an headcanon of ateez as types of soulmates bonds/ which type of soulmate bond will suit them? Bye have a nice dayyyy

a/n: this one is kinda just like what soulmate aus remind me of them & what i think would wanna write if it was soulmates au and them hehet i hope i interpreted the request properly lmao

ot8 / w.c 1.1k / t.w none

seonghwa

reincarnation soulmates au

look ik everyone has been hyping up the seonghwa's first life thing so it's my turn to talk about it

the soulmate au where one is immortal and the other is mortal

seonghwa is the latter

and you just watch him from afar everytime he reincarnates, only talking to him once he is of age

and isn't the thought of being with him from his first life to his,, maybe 100th life,, just so,,,, bittersweet

bittersweet because damn obviously it hurts everytime he goes

hongjoong

dreaming of your soulmate au

you're in every dream of his and his in yours anytime the two of you are asleep at the same time

dreams with each other in it always feel so warm and fuzzy and you're always having a good time with each other

and sadly, nightmares when the two of you are not together in the dreams

but thing is you always wake up remembering everything except how he looks like and what his name is; same thing goes for him

*cue draw&draw lyrics*

he misses you and he wants to 'draw' you but he doesnt even know who you are physically

yunho

you can hear your soulmates thoughts au

but when you make eye or physical contact, you can't hear those thoughts

so imagine the two of you are seated across each other on the train and the thoughts go like

"omg they have nice shoes"

"why are his hands so pretty"

and those kinda thoughts just keep going and the both of you are just laughing internally at your soulmate because like "honey, im your soulmate, not whoever you're probably drooling over right now"

and then "wait im also drooling over someone else right now,,,"

and then the both of you just decide to lift your heads to meet each other's eyes and suddenly everything is quiet!!!!!!

also imagine later on when youre in a relationship with him and the two of you are just sharing a romantic moment and it's like:

"come on, you have to say it out loud because i can't hear you right now" AND THEN BEING ALL SHY BECAUSE OF THE NON-EXISTENT DISTANCE WHILE SAYING SMTH CHEESY

yeosang

your soulmate’s face is blurry to you au

this can be kinda sad because you will never really know how each other looks

but i think the sweetness lies in that the feelings you have for each other is genuine and purely because of their personality and all

and of course physical attraction is still important to a certain extent but think this:

the both of you are so familiar with each other through touch and a lot of experiences that you just know exactly where his lips are so you can kiss him pretty effortlessly

you know exactly where his nose ends so you know how to tilt your heads when you kiss so as to not bump noses

AND because you just are that familiar with him, you can kind of form a picture of each other's faces in your heads, like you have a rough idea how big his eyes are, how widely spaced, what his eye shape is etc.

idk but that just sounds really beautiful to me despite all the inconveniences that could arise

PLUS its so easy to spot each other in crowds because only one face is blurred to you lmao

san

you have a mark wherever your soulmate first touches you au

you are very disturbed because like half of your body is marked

like so much so that it's definitely not like an accidental bump on the streets or smth

so you're just there thinking "who in the right mind would touch a stranger to this extent and why!"

until one day you're minding your business while walking around and someone runs up from behind you and literally just engulfs you into a hug while resting their head in the crook of your neck

and of course, because you're panicking, you turn your head back to look who the hell it was

AND how coincidentally,,, your lips made contact with their brow bone

he releases you when he realises that you were not the friend he was supposed to meet around here

and because your long sleeves rolled up a little, you see the mark slowing fading away, and it just clicks,, he was the one

"this is truly unfair, i gave you a cute little mark and you give me that big ass mark"

mingi

you see your soulmate's memories when you touch something they have touched before au

and fate is cruel because it always seems like one of you is always a little later than the other

like if you or him walked a little bit faster and reached the same place a little earlier, maybe the two of you would have met

until one day maybe one day mingi is keeping the change after paying at the cashier and he drops some coins

and you're behind him so you help him pick it up and you suddenly get flashes of his memories

and so does he when you hand the coins back to him

fate is so stupid sometimes but it's cute ig

wooyoung

whatever you write on your skin shows up on your soulmate's skin as well

and wooyoung being wooyoung, loves to share things that makes him happy and things that he wish you would try out as well

and so you can expect his own food recipes, or maybe some lyrics that he's been trying to write, or like ideas for his vlogs and all

let's be real, it's 2021, the two of you could really just share social media handles and meet irl easily but both of you just love the comfort of anonymity

and knowing that someone out there is always listening, or rather, reading, whatever you want to say

jongho

when your soulmate gets hurt, flowers bloom at the same exact location

i think this one's kinda cute even tho it can be scary at times i guess

like imagine both of you just wanting to bubble wrap each other up because

"I HAVE A PERFORMANCE TOMORROW YOU CAN'T GET HURT"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN ONE OF YOUR BUTT CHEEKS IS BLEEDING, HOW AM I GOING TO SIT NOW"

STOP BITING YOUR LIPS I DONT WANT FLOWERS ON MY LIPS"

i think it is the beauty of taking care of someone as much as you would take care of yourself or reversely, taking care of yourself as much as you wanna take care of someone else

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #8makes1teamnet #ateezlovenet #ficscafe #ateez headcanons #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #ateez writings #ateez blurbs #ateez drabbles #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez soulmate au #requested #ateez ot8

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niskoo · 3 years

Text

Memories kept in the pink hoodie

pairing: Ex! Heeseung x reader

genre: angst, fluff in the end ig, breakup! AU

warnings: swearing, uhhh they like break down together

word count: 2.2k words OMG

a/n: another one of my requests!! thank you all for the ideas its really helping!! mmm this one was very interesting to write because i usually write crack/fluff, aaannndd ive literally never done anything ive written IURHWIU thank you for the great idea anon <33 THIS HELPED SO MUCH OMG USUALLY MY ANGST SUCKS BUT IM PRETTY PROUD OF THIS AAAA ALSO IM SORRY IF THIS WASNT REALLY WHAT YOU WANTED IDK THERE ALWAYS HAS TO BE FLUFF IN MY IMAGINES IG 😓😭

feel free to request and help get rid of my writers block!!

a bit based off of 'try again' by jaehyun and d.ear

You should've known the consequences of dating an idol, you should've been careful. Of course they wouldn't let you be together, he's in one of the rising groups, heck, he was in one of the biggest companies.

It wasn't necessarily the company's fault you were so heartbroken, it's both your faults. You couldn't help but blame each other for how careless you were. You know better than to make things worse, and yet you did.

The evening you go back to his dorm after being confronted by the company, you two started a huge argument of who's fault it was. Either it was his fault for not taking caution during work, or your fault for always checking up on him. All loving actions in the past became reasons for why you should break up, thus cracking your relationship further.

When you went home that night, with your backpack full of your things, you did nothing. You didn't cry, you didn't rage, you simply thought that this was the end, you felt guilty that it had to end like this, instead of just working it out and breaking it off peacefully.

Your heart was left cracked and hurt for sure, but this time, you blame yourself. You shouldn't have met him, you shouldn't have got to know him, it's all your fault. And for the first time that night, you cry.

Your heart clenched at every thought of having to leave Heeseung, more tears falling at the fact that he's not gonna be a part of your life anymore. He's gone, and it's all your fault.

It's when you unpack your things when you realize you still have a bunch of things left at his place, you realize you never want to go back and face him.

You leave your stuff there for the next 2 days, your heart still unready to confront and be reminded of the fact that Heeseung is gone. Unfortunately, he has other plans.

Your phone lights up, and the last name you want to see is lighting the phone up.

'Hey... you left some of your stuff.'

You instantly turn your phone off, breaths picking up as you quickly look away from it and finish your lunch. You can feel the anxiety filling your body as you notice it light up once again, and it swarms in your chest even more when your mother winces at the next text.

You put down your spoon, quickly glancing at the text.

'If you want, you can come by and pick them up? I'll pack them for you...'

Your heart clenches yet once again, you know it's true, literally half your stuff is still there and you have to pick them up. You unlock your phone, quickly sending an 'okay' before completely shutting your phone down. You wouldn't stand a second more looking at his contact.

You decide to go at 11, because that's when the other members are at the company training. You don't know if Heeseung's gonna be there to give you your things, a part of you hopes he is, another hopes he's not there. But then again, who else would open the door for you?

You stand outside the familiar door nervously, picking on your nails and the lint on the hem of your cardigan. Just as you were about to knock, the door swung open, and instead of your ex boyfriend standing there it's the youngest of the group, his eyes wide and puffy lips parted.

As usual, he woke up late. You can't help but chuckle as he picks his shoes up and scurries down the stairs, bidding him a friendly goodbye.

You almost forget about Heeseung, but as you hear shuffling from inside, it all comes back.

You two share awkward glances, the tension slowly building itself back up. Instead of the heated, rage filled tension, this time the tension is guilty, and without each other knowing, yearning.

“T-this way,” Heeseung mutters tightly, eyes glued to the ground as he shuffled quickly to the living room. You follow along just a few seconds later, still processing the fact that this is the end. He could be gone out of your life after this, it’s your last chance to speak.

Your eyes slowly travel up when you stop, the beating of your heart quickening with the slight burning in your eyes. Lo and behold, there your things laid, ready for you to bring back home. You can’t help but notice how it’s packed completely how Heeseung would pack, neat and with care. It’s not too stuffed, it’s in the perfect place.

Biting at the dead skin of your lip, you trudge towards the duffle bag—his duffle bag—and kneel down to grab the handle. The moment you pick it up, you notice how the bag isn’t fully zipped, and a certain pink sleeve peaks out from the tiny space.

All too familiar, the pink sleeve was. It was the one he took from Daniel in I-land. He knew you loved it, for you loved the kid like your little brother. But, he can’t. It’s his, it’s his favorite, he can’t just give it to his ex.

You instantly place the bag down, the tears starting to well up in frustration and sadness. You zip open the bag and take the pink hoodie out, before shoving it into Heeseung’s chest, “Take it, Heeseung, Please don’t give it to me.”

It takes him a few moments, before Heeseung is shaking his head and handing it back to you. “No, it’s practically yours anyway. And you really like it right? It’s just a-“

“Don’t tell me it’s just a hoodie!”

You both are shocked at your sudden burst, frozen in your spot. Your breathing is heavy, like a weight is holding it down and slowing your breathing. There are tears keeping your cheek moist, warm, they stream down continuously, the sensation as if there was fire dripping from your eyes and burning your skin.

Heeseung’s just on the verge of crying himself, the grip on the pink hoodie deathly, he feels the material ripping against his skin. How did it come to this? When did it even happen? It all feels surreal, to think what you two had could fall apart.

All the happy moments in your relationship fading to memories, the hoodie representing the fact itself is true. None of you wanted to take it, afraid it would remind you of the other.

Deep down, you wanted to keep it, keep the memories it held, keep the tears that once soaked it when you vented all your stress to him, keep the scent of Heeseung that lingered on the fabric. You were just too afraid of being reminded that along with the happy memories, came the sad memories of the night you fought and broke it off.

Your grip on the poor hoodie eases, as you slide to the floor helplessly with tears messing your face up. You desperately wanted to hold the pink piece of clothing and keep it forever, and another part of you cursed at you for being too vulnerable.

Your hand quickly wipes away the tears on your cheeks and chin harshly, almost hitting yourself for being so sensitive. Before you could do the action again, a softer grasp is stopping your hand, Heeseung’s other hand reaching up to brush the tears away dearly, blowing your hair away from your face.

Before you could even bring yourself to stop, you’re already reacting to his touch, cowering into his hold and placing your hand over his on your cheek, almost intertwining them together.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into his palm, your other hand reaching up to grasp at his t-shirt. You’re sorry for so many reasons, for not being careful, for all the things you said in the argument, for making a sudden commotion just because of a stupid hoodie. “I’m so sorry...”

“Shh, it’s alright, it’s alright.” Heeseung grabs you into his infamous embrace you would hate to leave, stroking your back with patterns just the way he knew you loved, just the way it would calm you down. “We’ll be alright.”

More tears fall between your eyelashes, dripping and soaking into Heeseung’s shoulder as he himself sniffles quietly into your hair. None of you want to leave each other behind, it’s the painful truth that you both can’t have, the truth you’ve always feared.

A sudden feeling of relief fills you up inside, his words reassure you in a way, we’ll be alright, you’ll be okay, it just had to leave his lips for you to believe it. You crawl closer to Heeseung, squeezing yourself in his bear hug, “We’ll be okay, we can make it right,”

A hoarse and hearty laugh leaves Heeseung, it shakes right by your ear as you press it against his chest, and he nods, “Yeah,”

He gently pulls your head back right in front of his, wiping the last of your tears and tucking the stray hairs back to the back of your ear, “Let’s just talk,” his whisper tickles your nose, causing you to lightly giggle at the feeling, his lips pressing softly against the pink tinted skin, “Make everything better?”

You nod, finally grasping at the pink hoodie and holding it tight to your chest as Heeseung laughs and bonks his forehead right on yours.

For the next few hours, you talk, make up, talk some more, maybe even a small cuddle, but that’s a secret. You make ramen for when the other members come back from practice, you feel happy to see the members thank you and eat with enthusiasm, you feel glad this is how your last moments together last.

Now you have the (practically ripped) pink hoodie in your arms as you bid the boys goodbye, slightly tearing up at the sight of them sadly waving, but you keep it in and continue your way back home, where you would tell your mom how you ended it on good terms.

And that night, you slip on the pink hoodie before you sleep, and you feel a piece of paper poking at your arm. You’re surprised to see a crumpled envelope poking out, your name written messily in blue ink.

You pull the envelope out quickly, opening it out with something bubbling in the pit of your stomach as you notice the handwriting as Heeseung’s.

‘My dear Y/n,

Hello there! I don’t know if i got the guts to make it right with you or if i pussied out and watched you as you drove away with regrets, but that’s what this letter is for. hopefully you didn’t throw this letter away hehe

i just wanted to thank you. for everything. your love, your care, your trust, Your happiness, thank you for everything you’ve given me. im sorry we had to end our journey, but know that you’ll be in my mind everyday. when we practice, I’ll remember your encouraging smile, when we win, I'll remember the fact that it’s you who gave me the courage to start this whole career.

i love you y/n. we’ll both probably find our other person in the future, but you’ll forever be in my heart as my first love, my first heartbreak, my best memory. thank you for helping me through my hardest times, thank you for helping the other boys through their worst times, especially jungwon, he’ll miss you the most.

i guess this is goodbye, y/n. not forever, of course, but for some time. thank you for everything, i hope you enjoyed the times we had together as much as i did.

with all the love in my heart,

Lee Heeseung :)’

You wipe at your tears for the nth time that day, folding the paper back into the envelope. “Fuck you Heeseung, you’ve ruined my makeup again!” You curse under your breath as you slip the letter into a certain box at the corner of your bedside table, patting your cheeks one last time.

You truly cherish the memories you had with Heeseung. You hope he does too.

#ehypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen blurbs #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heeseung angst #lee heeseung fluff #lee heeseung blurbs #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung scenarios

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maiverie · 2 years

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hi I saw this on my dashboard can you ship your mutuals with idols you think they will fit best

oh god HI ANON 🕵️‍♀️ i’ve been seeing these on my dash too GHEHEHE this is so cute except you’re asking the wrong person since i feel like i’m so new to tumblr and know nobody 🧍🏻‍♀️ but anyway imma do u one better and write some fic ideas based on what i think their relo would be like 😳

@yerion ship her w jyp obviously 💪 she always talks about how she wants 2 be an idol so she can have a whole ass delicious record executive in her dms??? duh??? the math be mathing 🥵 #enemiestolovers #agegapau #ive never noticed how beautiful his eyes are au 💓 i bet she would like rock up to the jyp building and be like hey give me a contract and the man would be completely enamoured by her at first sight and she’d be like 😍 ure so rich daddy 😋

@seungstarss heeseung it’s heeseung OF COURSE IT’S HEESEUNG i gotta give my girl full rights to her man 😭 no but idk heeseung is such a quiet kind of nice that i feel like sei and him would make such a cute couple 😭 LIKE I SWEAR THEIR LOVE STORY WOULD BE SO CUTE AND FULL OF FLUFF like maybe sei would lowkey like one of his friends until one night she needs help and he’s the only one that pulls thru for her #theyre in an friend group and they’ve never been alone tgt until one night and she’s like damn actually he’s kinda cool and cute but wait y is he looking at me like that au or maybe #neighbours au IDK JUST SOMETHING WHERE HEE LIKES HER FROM AFAR

@vmpnoo i…. i wanna say sunoo so bad EXCEPT THIS BITCH IS LITERALLY A HORROR/GORE WRITER AND SHE STANS THE FLUFFIEST FLUFF BALL THAT IS KIM SUNWOO?????!!! SOMETJING AINT CLICKING 😭😭😭 so maybe it’d be like an opposites attract au but tbh i also see fray with like niki cause they’re both chaotic af like i can see fray scaring the shit out of niki bc she finds it funny 😭 she’s legit gna wake up in the middle of the night and be standing over his bed dressed up as a masked killer and threaten to stab all of his lil plushy toys HAHAHAHHSHAHAHAHAHAHA #romcom # chaotic evil (her) vs chaotic good (niki) couple dynamic

@hoonsilk OUR KDRAMA QUEEEENNNNNN SHE DESERVES ALL THE ROMANCE JSDKKDD SO IMMA SAY SUNGHOON SINCE SHES PROLLY GNA KILL ME IF I SAYANYONE ELSE BUT ALSO IM GETTING A JAY VIBE TOO (ik …. giving up my own bias for u… that’s how u know i love u) BC JAY IS GNA GIVE U ALL THE ROMANCE U NEED!??? he’d literally plan out all the coolest most thoughtful little dates omg bye i’m jealous now—

@wonvelvet YEONIEEEE OMG THIS IS KINDA HARD SINCE WE ONLY JUST MET 😳 BUT IK U LOVE JUNGWON AND U ALR GIVE ME BFF ENERGY SO IM TOTALLY CONVINCED U GUYS WOULD HAVE THE MOST ENERGETIC ADORABLE RELO EVER?????? gotta be liek a school au where yeonie is the new kid and jungwons is the student president and he has to give u a tour and then uh oh he accidentally leads u the wrong way and now you both have detention bc turns out he’s dumb af and doesn’t know his way around the fucking school 😭😭

@twilightau i think it’s cos i read ur godly prince au series but i see u with a tall handsome prince gentleman THATS GNA TREAT U RIGHT AND FIGHT OFF OTHER SLEAZY ASS MEN 🤺🤺🤺 SUNGHOON IS OBVIOUSLY A PRINCE AND HES GNA TAKE CARE OF U SO WELL HE’LL LITEDALLY TREAT U LIKE A PRINCESS #royalty au DUH

edit: WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE I WAS THINKING AB WRITING MOOTS AND I TOTALLT FORGOT ABT MY READING BESTIES

@miiiwaa THE LOML IM HANDING OVER NERD!HEESEUNG LITERALLY CHERRY/HEE SHDKEKKFKSJX HOW CAN I NOT when i feel like ud treat him so well and give him all the reassurance he needs

@jaeyummies WHERE ARE U U WERE MY FIRST FRIEND ON TUMBLR AND NOW YOURE GONE 💔💔💔 heart been broke so many times but anyway you’re the kindest sweetest soul you’re literally my aussie bestie so duh duh duh i ship u w jakey!????????? i’ll gladly be the third wheel and we can all take trips to bunnings and muzz with the eshays on the train 💪

p.s. here’s to a year of more interaction ❤️❤️❤️ HOPEFULLY ONE DAY I CAN DO A PART TWO OR SMTH…….. hoping to get to know more people around here on engene tumblr so if you’re reading this pls don’t be afraid to reach out ☹️💓💖💞

#MY FIRST ASK GAME??? EEEK IM SO HAPPY WTF 😭#ask #ask.misc ♜#moots ☽#moot games <3

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

Text

Title: first meetings [ii. the small pink-haired boy] Genre: just angst, drama, romance, historical fiction Pairing: Sorcerer!Sukuna x gn!sorcerer!reader (heian era; pre-curse sukuna)

Synopsis: in which you befriend the slave boy you’re supposed to spy on.

Warnings: not canon stuff, future dark themes,, smoll manga spoilers, slavery, whipping, mentions of rape, language and violence Notes: im kinda back i guess skksks also these are pretty much random au’s of my own take of sukuna’s back story uwu, theyre arranged in no particular order and you can read them in any order. This started out as a random one shot and i couldnt get it out of my head lol ksksksks, def not canon btw but it is canon that sukuna used to be an all powerful sorcerer before he turned to the dark side or smthng.

lil dictionary: non-person- usually what they called slaves during the heian era.

masterlist [for other parts] ;; taglist

“That’s beautiful.”

Contrasting to your rather clean and prestigious appearance, the young boy was dressed in rags and had dirt painted on his face. You could tell by his uncommon red eyes that he didn’t want you here nor did he even want to be associated with you.

“...the boy is rather prideful.” your otosan recounted a few nights before, you’d usually have conversations like this since you were quite close with him and he did like to confide you with these things,“but he has spirit, he’d be good for a ward.”

“What are you doing here?” He spat, being a part of and the sole heir of your family meant you were also treated with dignity and respect, it seemed like this boy wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone, this made you grin wildly much to his disdain, “Oi, stop grinning like that. You’re creeping me the fuck out.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“And I don’t care.”

“Has anyone told you that you’ve got quite the temper?”

“Well, has anyone told you that you’re being an annoying bitch?” he bit back, five minutes into your first meeting, this strange boy seemed to want to get furthest away from you. He seemed to be rather ignorant to his overflowing cursed energy, your father was right, this boy was definitely no joke.

“That’s sad.” You pouted, “All I wanted to say was how beautiful that Kimono is.”

“I was at a store, looking for some clothes that best suited you when I saw a young boy of your age…” your otosan narrated, “Who had a rather high cursed energy, he seemed unaware with it. He works as an errand boy, I believe, he carries heavy clothes and silk… His looks are hard to miss Y/N, so I’m sure you won’t miss him...try to talk to him…”

The boy looks up to you, completely annoyed, “Well, you said it. Now fuck off, yeah?”

You chose to ignore him and just bend down to his level, you had no training for today so you might as well join the boy for a moment since you had time to kill, “You know, if you keep keeping that attitude up, you might scare the customers away.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah?” he clicked his tongue, “Looks to me that you aren’t even here to buy anything.”

“He seemed rather…” Your otosan described, “perplexed...so you might as well go in my stead…”

“Ah.” your grin doesn’t seem to fade despite his rather rough way of speaking, “You just seemed around my age so I got interested.”

“No shit, now buzz off. I got no time for kids like you.”

He talks as if he was older than you, it’s no surprise. Boys like him tend to think they know quite a lot.

“Do you wish to tell me your name now?”

He was silent for a moment.

That’s when realization dawned upon you, why he seemed perplexed around your otosan, why he thinks you were an annoying buzz, and why he couldn’t reply when you asked for his name. You feel yourself inwardly cringe at your mistake, it seems like the boy your father took interest in is a slave with no name, “Twenty.” he mumbles, shrugging nonchalantly.

“What?”

“They call me twenty.” he recounts, his voice is still rough around the edges, remaining uncensored by his identity.

“Right…” you tilt your head, “Twenty…”

“You’ve got silks to bring to the next town, boy!” a loud voice calls out, cutting you short, making the pink-haired boy put the pretty kimono down and back for display. Without even sparing you a glance or a word, he retreats to the back and you’re left squatting there alone. You watch him from behind, specifically at the bandages that peeked through his wrists.

The boy had piqued your interest to the point that you made it your weekly agenda to visit him and a-some-nights agenda to watch over him. He still ignores you and seems to be annoyed by you every time but he doesn’t seem to be doing anything about it so you just sit there.

You were also still in awe by how much raw energy he possessed, you’d ask your otosan if he knew any sorcerers with lost children because it surely seemed as if this boy wasn’t ordinary.

“Just keep an eye on him,” was all your father said as you watch the boy close up shop late at night from on top of a roof, “He might make a great sorcerer and shift the tides.”

Your otosan was not one for gambling on people but it seemed like he made a large bet on this boy.

As usual, you’re watching over him close up. It’s late and the owner of the place walks out, a pipe on his lips. Right then and there, he slaps the pink-haired teenager right at the face, “You should’ve joined the customer awhile ago in the dressing room, boy.” he growls, “It would’ve been quick…”

You feel the negative energy emit stronger than ever and your grip on your knife is tight, “Don’t get involved, Y/N.” your otosan’s warning echoes in your head, yes your otosan may have been interested in him but he was never one to dwell in human affairs, saying they were annoying and a mess to clean up.

“...It seems like the lesson a few nights ago wasn’t enough.” you snap back to reality and watch his boss stretch out a whip with its pointy ends and you feel your blood run cold.

‘Don’t get involved-’

You ignore your otosan’s words in your head and throw a stone right at a nearby sign, resulting in a booming clang, making the cat nearby yelp outloud. The pink-haired boy jumps on the spot and so does the older man at the sound.

“Ah fucking-” the older man curses, tucking the whip back in, “No food for you for three days. Know your fucking worth, non-person.”

Your grip on your nodachi lessens as you let out a sigh of relief, whatever legal terms your father must be talking about needs to be done quickly.

On the next day, you’re on your way to visit him again. Carrying the bento box that you know he’ll refuse again because of his ‘pride’ yet you stop dead on your tracks when you find his owner and an older man talking, Sukuna seems to be standing behind them, looking quite uncomfortable.

It didn’t take two and two to guess what was going on, the amount of cursed energy leaking on him was strong so you could only guess this was the man who wanted to get his way on him yesterday. Your nose crinkles in absolute disgust, “Don’t get involved-”

Once again, you ignore your otosan’s words.

“Hey!” You call out, you see his red eyes widen, “What are you doing?”

The older man frowns at your sudden appearance, “None of your business brat. Now go home-”

“I said,” You repeated, your voice dangerously low, “What are you doing to him?”

“He’s a non-person, kid.” his ‘owner’ growls, you notice his hands dangerously close to his whip, “A fucking slave in simpler terms, now get the fuck out before I beat him and you.”

“You don’t scare me.” Your eyes are narrowed, truthfully, no one ever scares you. You were the heir of your clan. It was to be expected and drilled since your curse energy manifested when you were five that fear would come last, “Now unhand the boy.”

“This bitch-”

“Now, now.” The other man smiles, cutting the pink-haired boy’s ‘owner’ off, “Maybe I can take that young child with me too. After all, they seem to be good friends. Two is better than one…”

You watch the other older man snake an arm on the young boy’s shoulder and you could feel the fear leaking out, it was harder to mask and hide now.

“Is it alright to put a little scar on’em? So that they’d know-” He gets ready to take out the whip while your fists are clenched, this would be easy. You could get away with this later, at least you’d take the boy away from this place and help him control his energy after.

Yet before you’re able to land a blow, the pink-haired boy yells at you to move as his ‘owner’ takes out a whip to whip you.

For someone who didn’t seem to like your presence, he was rather quick to defend you, having his face get hit in the process by the sharp whip. Your eyes widen in surprise, “Ah, shit… Y/N, run!” he yells but you’re staring at his very bloody face.

It would obviously leave marks like the wrists and who knows which parts since he was always covered by that very loose raggedy kimono.

You clench your fists tightly and look up from his blood features, the ‘owner’ stops on his tracks when he meets your very cold gaze, “Do you know who you just messed with?” you asked, “You really think I won’t tell my otosan that you planned to make me your prostitute?”

“Y-Y/N, jesus christ just fucking run-” he tried to stutter out, any evidence of the prideful and strong boy who tried to shoo you away was now gone.

Yet like the stubborn child you are, you ignore him and instead take out your family seal and drop it in front of them, ignoring the pink-haired boy’s plea’s and watching the two men in front of you turn white as a ghost as they see the nameplate, “My name is Ryomen Y/N.” You stated, voice loud and clear, “And you better hope that I’ll let you out here dead or me and my otosan will hunt you down for the rest of your life.”

taglist [if your name is crossed out, i cant tag you!] @shinhiromi ;; @hcn421 ;; @airybnb ;; @coldbookworm ;; @kristineyoshaii ;; @frankenstein852

@iguessimastannnow

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna imagines

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