#He would stay and try to help even if he's not a good fighter. That's just the kinda dude he is. So a Celor lives au means... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itsmarsss · 7 months ago

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Vulgar Display of Power [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

You can never fucking beat him in a fight and it's getting frustrating.

Request: omg more miguel please!!! smutty if u can xx already dating if you want? Fic title comes from my (second) favorite Pantera album. Word count: 4,350 Warnings: SMUT. established relationship, theres plot but it only serves to justify the sex lol, i use present tense in this, degrading, first time sub!miguel kind of, handjob, fingering, oral sex, penetration (p in v), semi-public sex (i guess? no one's around but the location isn't exactly private), a lot of use of pet names (baby, babe, love, mi amor), so much swearing. obviously no one is a minor here I don't mention much context but can be read as hs senior year or later, doesn't really matter. if you're a minor kindly keep away from my blog and this fic please

“Fuck!” You yell out as Sensei Lawrence announces Miguel’s win. In turn of your frustration, Miguel sports a grin that playfully mocked you.

Now don’t get it twisted, you’re not a bad fighter. You’re not even a good one- you’re great. The best, except for…

“Diaz! Good one.” Sensei Lawrence praises.

“Nice, dude!” Hawk comes to fist bump him.

Tory comes to you. “Girl get it together! You’re better than that!”

“I’m fucking trying.”

Miguel hears the two of you talking and decides to insert himself into the conversation. “Come on, it’s not a big deal.”

“I say this with love but it is a big deal and I’m gonna find a way to beat you.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.”

[. . .]

“Hey,” you hear Miguel call from behind you, turning around for a split second to look at him before getting back to packing your stuff to leave the dojo.

“Hey.”

“So, are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. I just wanna go home first and take a shower.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Hey are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something seems… weird.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe,” you tell him, bringing a hand to his face and lightly tapping his cheek.

“You sure?”

“Yes! I just said it is!” You realize you blew up at him for no reason, immediately feeling bad for it and apologizing, not managing to look at him. “Sorry.”

“See? That’s what I mean!”

“I really am sorry.”

“Okay, but something’s clearly wrong.”

You stay silent, and he walks up to you, cornering you so you’d face him.

“What’s going on?”

Honestly, you don’t want to tell him. Because it would sound stupid. Because it is stupid. You don’t even exactly know why it had gotten so under your skin this time.

“It’s fine. I’m just a bit off today.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but you don't have to lie either.”

“Fine. You wanna know what’s wrong? I’m frustrated because you keep beating me.”

“What?”

“Every single time we’re picked to fight I just can’t fucking beat you. And yes, I’m glad you don’t go easy on me, cause that would be like a million times worse, but I'm frustrated with myself. You’re the only one I've never fully beat in a match. The closest I’ve ever gotten to that was a tie.”

“Well most of the time it ends up in a tie.”

“Yeah but none of the time did it end with me winning.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”

“Of course you don’t. I just feel like if I still can’t beat you then have I really been getting better?”

“What? That’s nonsense, babe. You know that, right? Of course you’ve been getting better. We all have.”

“See I told you it would be stupid. I don't even know why I'm feeling this way.”

“That’s okay. We can just sort that out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll ask sensei for the keys.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna stay here and fight and we’re not gonna leave until you win.”

“That’s really not what I was trying to get from this-”

“What, are you scared?” He knew just how to tug on your strings.

“Oh fuck no.”

“Then we’re doing this.”

“But what about the date?”

“We can go tomorrow. If you need my help today, I'll help you today.”

“Okay.”

[. . .]

“Alright, ready?”

You only nod your head yes, too focused to even speak.

“Okay. Round one.”

You get a couple punches in, but he’s faster than most of your hits. He wins..

You huff, annoyed. “Again.”

“Again.”

“Okay that’s it. Again.”

This time, determination runs through your veins, as tired as you were. Every single moment of feeling weak or inferior or as though you were seen by others as basically the female equivalent of Miguel, and not yourself, not someone capable of being better than him in any way, channeled into this round.

And you won. This time, you fucking won.

“Wait that’s three,” you realize.

“Yeah! You won!” Miguel celebrates.

“What?”

“You won, babe!”

“Oh my God. Holy fucking shit. I won?!”

He laughs, coming up to you. “You did.” He places a quick kiss on your lips, but you’re taken over by the adrenaline, pulling him back to you by the collar of his shirt when he went to pull away, tangling him into another kiss, deeper and more passionate this time around. “That was hot,” he comments, as you finally did let him part ways with you to breathe, your bodies still flushed together.

You feel your cheeks burn at his comment. “I just kicked your ass,” you joke.

He doesn’t even seem fazed by the comment. “Yeah you did,” he grins.

“I did not expect that to unlock some sort of loser kink in you.”

“Hey! That’s not what this is!”

You lift an eyebrow, amused.

“What, you’re telling me it’s a crime if my insanely hot girlfriend looks insanely hot while kicking my ass?”

“Should I kick your ass more often then?”

“You’re welcome to.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Shut up,” he retorts, finally having enough of the playful bantering, unable to wait a second longer to have your lips on his again.

Miguel pulls you even closer to him- if that were even possible- by pulling on your waist, not wasting a second more before diving in again, pulling you into a kiss that is much more feral this time around. His actions scream that he wants you, and the high from having reached your goal and beat him in the last round mixed with the lust forming in you from seeing him so affected, so attracted to this, it feels good.

You suppose some people would maybe come into an issue if they found themselves in your place. Men aren’t exactly known for being great at dealing with women being better than them in… well, anything. But Miguel acted genuinely proud of you. Hell, he’d canceled your date night to help you with this because he realized it was important to you. And more than being supportive, he was turned on by your display of power.

His kisses start trailing out of your lips, to your jaw, to the space below your ear. “You did so well, love. You should get something in turn, huh?”

Your mind was getting a bit foggy. Still, you join in playing his game. “I suppose I should. What are you gonna do?”

“Whatever you want me to,” he breathes out. Oh. That was definitely new.

“Whatever I want?” He only nods, looking up at you, waiting to be told what to do. Holy shit, that was hot. “That sounds good.”

“Just tell me, please, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise,” he pleads. It was almost pathetic. You decide you’d never get enough of hearing him plead like that. You loved the times in which he was more dominant, but you could definitely get behind this too, no issues whatsoever.

You pretend to think. “I don’t think I will.”

“What? Why not?”

“I want you to guess.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I- Uh- Ih-” he takes a deep breath. He liked that. You smiled. “I can do that.”

“Good boy,” you try, hoping he didn’t find it weird.

Apparently, he didn’t. “Fuck. Fuck,” he lets out in almost strangled sounds, wordlessly dropping himself to the floor. He looks up at you with doe eyes, as if pleading for permission. You smile at him, signaling everything was okay. You cage his jaw with both your hands, and he closes his eyes for a moment, letting you play with his hair.

“You look so pretty like this,” you coo, and he feels it down his spine, his eyes fluttering open.

“Sit.”

“What?”

“Sit,” he repeats himself, but it isn’t demanding. Not this time.

“I heard you.”

“Sit, please, baby.”

You grin. You didn’t know you’d like this this much. “Of course, baby.” You sit down on the bench, legs closed. He parts them confidently, eyes not leaving yours as he does so slowly, positioning his body between them. With his face mere inches from yours, he looks up at you again.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He guesses. His cheeks red, he clearly looks embarrassed. It turned him on and it turned you on too.

You nod eagerly, signaling he’d guessed right. He smiles and closes the distance between you, pulling you down and attaching his lips to yours. It starts out slow, tender, experimental- testing the waters. He grows eager pretty fast, though, kissing you harder, his hands traveling to either of your thighs and planting themselves there firmly, squeezing in a way that makes you gasp slightly in surprise.

He pulls away just to tease you about it. That’s the kind of little shit he is.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Not this then?”

He squeezes your thigh again and you try to act unbothered.” He notices though, pleased with himself.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He pulls you into a kiss again with no warning, more feral than before, his hand traveling upwards, inside the legs of the shorts you were wearing.

“Take it off,” you pant out, a stern tone overtaking your words, and he complies without questioning. You smile, pleased with that. You lift your hips slightly for him and he throws the shorts somewhere on the floor behind you.

He stares at your underwear for a few moments, as if lost in a trance. You laugh. “Hello? You here?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Used to what?” You move a hand to caress his face.

“The fact that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

“Aw, do you like that, baby? Does it turn you on?” You ask, your tone almost mocking him.

He only nods his head yes, looking embarrassed.

“That’s good.” You make a show to slowly take off your shirt, a sudden surge of confidence running through your veins at his words, discarding it along with the shorts behind you. His eyes widen and he mumbles a few words, the volume of his words so low you couldn’t make it out for the life of you, before he just surges forward again, not aiming for your lips this time, but for your jaw.

“What was that?” You manage to breathe out as he continues his trail of kisses along your jaw.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna talk you’re gonna let me hear it. Got it?”

“Oh-okay.” He continues to place quick, slight pecks along your jawline, but you know exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re not distracting me from that. I wanna know what you said, baby. Wanna hear you.”

“I said- I said uh-“ he gulps. “It’s dumb.”

“That’s okay.”

“I just said ‘fuck me’.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh. It was dumb,” you mock him again, and you can see he didn’t expect that.

“What?”

“I though you wanted to fuck me,” you joke.

He doesn’t take it as a joke. “I do. I do I just meant- it was just-“ oh. This was for real.

“I know, love. I was just teasing you. Okay? You’re being so good to me.”

His eyes almost sparkle at the praise.

“You know I think I changed my mind.”

“What?”

“Maybe I should fuck you.”

“What do you mean?”

You look down on him and smile, a genuine sweet smile. “Get up.”

“But-“

“I thought you said you’d do whatever i wanted you to,” you fake-pout.

He doesn’t say a word before standing back up. You do the same, keeping your body flushed to his. You slowly turn the two of you around, cornering him until the back of his knees hit the bench and pushing him to sit down on it.

Standing in front of him, you tilt your head to the side as you take in the view. He looked disheveled as ever. You loved it. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.

“I- I can take it off.”

“Yeah I think you should.”

“What… what do you want me to take off?”

“Let’s go with the shirt first, baby. How about that?”

He nods furiously. “Yeah I can do that,” he takes his shirt off in a millisecond, throwing it with your clothes on the floor.

“Oh, you look so pretty,” you coo, stepping closer to him and lifting his chin up to look at you. You make your way around the bench to be behind him, and you can see him gulp in anticipation. Fuck, you were loving this a little too much. You trace his biceps with your finger. “Your arms, I love your arms, you know that? So big and strong,” you exaggerate, and he quirks an eyebrow at the suspicious comment. This doesn’t sound like it was getting to a nice praising place. “And your body, I mean your abs. Your thighs, your thighs are so pretty, baby,” you crouch a bit, still behind him, wrapping yourself around his back so you could snake your arms to his thighs, still only tracing them with a single finger. “So how come you lost to me like a bitch?”

That seems to remind him very well of what was happening.

“It- it was one time.”

“One time you lost to me. But you’ve barely ever won, have you?”

He stays quiet.

“Come on, baby, talk to me…” you pout, snaking your arms around his torso and kissing his neck.

“N-no.”

“Did you like that you lost to me baby?”

Quiet again.

“Did it turn you on?” You whisper in his ear and you can feel him take in big a breath. .

He couldn’t even look at you .

“Oh, pretty boy, I wanna hear your voice!”

He gulps again. “It- it turned me on,” he confesses.

“I never knew you were into this sort of thing.”

“Me- me neither.”

“Do you like it when I’m stronger than you? When I tell you what to do?”

You remove yourself from his body entirely, and he whips his head at record speed to look at you, desperate for your touch again. You circle the bench once again, standing in front of him. You grab his jaw and lifts his head up to look at you, your other hand messing with his hair. “So pathetic. I’ve barely done anything to you and you’re this hard.”

You finally sit yourself down on his thighs, legs on either side of his torso, and he immediately and instinctively grabs your ass ‘for support’ as he’s always insisted with a grin.

“You’re so fucking pathetic you’ll do anything I tell you to. Won’t you?” You pout, tilting your head.

“I’ll- I’ll do anything you want.”

“That’s a good boy,” you mess with and pet his hair again. You loved it when it was just long enough for his curls to appear.

He shivers. “Can you say it again?”

“Oh, no can do, baby. You’ll have to keep being a good boy to earn it.”

“I’ll- I’ll be a good boy, okay?”

You nod silently, your arms draped around his neck, and you pull yourself closer to get access to his face. You kiss along his jawline slowly, paying extra attention to the spots just under his ears, which made him shiver like crazy. When you find it sufficient, you move down to his neck, and he lets you, tilting his head to the side. You kiss down his neck, trying your best to not leave any marks. He’s still shivering now, and you know him well enough to know he’s okay, but can’t resist teasing him a bit more.

“Oh no, baby, you’re trembling! Is everything okay?” You feign ignorance. He doesn’t reply. “Aw are you too horny to speak to me? Is that the issue?” You mock.

He lifts his hips for some friction, an involuntary tell that he was enjoying this too. “Aw, do you like it when I’m mean to you? Huh?” You lift his chin again. He begrudgingly nods his head yes. You smile and move your hand from his chin to his cheeks, squeezing both off them. “Does my baby like it when I’m in control? When I handle you like this? When I call you names?”

He tries to reply, but can’t really with you squeezing his face like that.

“Oh I can’t hear you baby!” You let go of his face. “You’re gonna have to say it again.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I- I like it when you’re mean to me.”

“I know, baby boy. I can feel it.” With no other warning, you palm him through his shorts. He was impossibly hard. Knowing he was liking this was for sure improving your confidence. The moment your hand meets his crotch his breathing becomes unsteady and he thrusts his hips up again, wanting more. You start kissing along his neck as you keep feeling him up through the shorts, and then he is gone. He lets himself let out delicious moans you would play on repeat if you could, tilting his head back to grant you better access to his neck. He wants more, and you know he does. But you want to hear him say it.

After a few minutes, he does.

“Please take it off.”

You press a gentle kiss to his neck, containing a grin. “What are you talking about, babe?”

“My shorts, take them off, please. Please, take them off.”

You press a quick peck on his lips this time. “You beg so pretty, baby. I think I’ll need more of that.”

He looks confused.

“Anything I tell you, right?”

He nods.

“Good. Eat me out.”

His eyes widen at the bluntness of it all. And then he realizes what you meant by needing more of his begging: you weren’t going to solve his little problem all that soon.

“I- yes. Yeah.”

You pull yourself off of him and he stands up as quickly as humanly possible, grabbing your hand and yanking you to Sensei’s office, rushing to move everything that was on his desk. You catch his drift and pull yourself up to sit on it. You’re so enthralled you don’t even really have the time to rethink what you’re doing and where you are. Miguel gets himself on his knees, and the sight of it from above is breathtaking.

“Are you sure you wanna be on your knees? They’re gonna hurt.” You ask him, seriously this time.

“I don’t care,” is all he says, dismissing the thought. He pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, and you let yourself lean back on your elbows. He brings a hand up your thigh and takes off your underwear, you lift your hips up to help.

He brings both his hands to your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, opening your legs.

He wastes no time before diving in, startling you when, in a second, his head is between your thighs while his hands squeeze them hard and his mouth is suddenly on you.

He moves his tongue up and down your clit, occasionally circling around it. Now and then he takes a long lick, from your hole to your clit, letting out a moan from time to time as he tastes you, and he picks up on the shaky breaths and loud moans you let out at that (and the way your hands fly to his hair, slightly pulling it.)

He moves his tongue to your hole, licking and kissing around it before getting it inside.

It makes you almost want to scream out his name.

“Oh my god. You’re being so good to me, baby. Please don’t stop-”

You can feel his smile.

He takes one of his hands off of your thigh and moves it to thumb at your clit as he keeps fucking you with his tongue. The feeling is heavenly, but you can’t help but want more.

“Your fingers.” Is all you say, and he gets it.

Normally in a situation like this he’d be teasing you in some way, but right now just the thought of upsetting you with that and having you leaving him to finish himself off, or something down that lane, got him quiet.

He changes what he’s doing, going back to flicking your clit with his tongue, and slowly inserting one of his fingers. You decide you want to tease a bit more. “That all you got?” You challenge him, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He inserts another finger, not taking the care to do it slowly this time, and he pushes them deep inside you, curling them upwards to make sure you felt it.

You let out a moan that’s so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed at it, but you can feel him grin at it, pleased with the reaction. He keeps on, but at a slow pace. In other instances, you didn’t mind some slow, passionate sex. You loved it, even. But right now you wanted to be fucked.

“Harder.”

He pulls his head up to kiss you. You let him. As you make out, your taste still on his tongue, his fingers thrust harder, deeper inside you, making you moan into his mouth, which Miguel seemed to enjoy a little too much.

You can feel yourself brimming an orgasm, and your words become nonsense as he keeps on, your noises becoming so higher-pitched you can barely register you’re the one making them.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy fucking-“

It hits you suddenly, killing your train of thought. Your body trembles as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, letting you ride out your high. He laps it all up gladly, but you pull him away, your clit oversensitive.

That doesn’t mean you didn’t want more.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, baby. You were such a good boy. But I want you to fuck me now.”

Miguel was still not used to you being this blunt. And honestly neither were you, for the matter. The words just kept coming out.

“What- what do you want me to do?”

You get close to his ear and whisper. “Whatever you want, baby.”

His eyes widen. Whatever he wants.

He pulls you off the desk and wordlessly takes you back to the locker room. He leaves you for a second to retrieve a condom from his bag. A prepared man, you’d say.

You manage to take a better look at him and laugh. He furrows his eyebrows together. “What?”

“You look so fucked out right now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and takes off his shorts, kicking them away. He goes to pull his boxers down but you stop him, stroking him in an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a groan. “Please stop, I’m not gonna last.”

“Oh poor you.” You yank his boxers down. His dick is so hard it must be painful. And all from losing a fight and being called mean names. He walks the two of you backwards until your back is against a wall. He puts the condom on and looks at you for a green light.

“Go on, baby.”

He nods, pressing his cock into your hole slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion.

“Fuck.” You breathe out.

“Was that a good fuck or a bad fuck? Does it hurt?”

“I’m alright. It was a good fuck.”

“Okay.” He hikes up one of your legs to his waist, and you think he’ll be content with that position, but he hikes up your other leg too, pressing your back even more firmly to the wall and supporting your weight by holding firmly onto the back of your thighs.

“Woah what are you doing?”

He doesn’t bother responding, thrusting into you experimentally.

“Holy shit.”

That is enough for him. His thrusts become harder, deeper, faster. He hadn’t realized just how desperate he was until now.

Hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars with every thrust, it doesn’t take long for his breath to quicken and his thrusts to become sloppier. “I’m gonna- can I-“

Was he trying to ask for permission to cum? Holy fucking shit, that was hot.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. You’ve been so good. You can cum.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he chanted.

You laugh as his desperation, but it quickly turns into a moan, with Miguel eager to cum and fucking you so hard now you can’t even understand how he could still hold up your weight while doing that. Bless you universe for giving you a strong, strong boyfriend. But all of that didn’t matter now, because he was fucking you so good you could feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm building again.

“Please don’t stop.” That was the first time you begged him for something the whole time.

“I won’t, mi amor.” Oh, that broke you. That one pet name didn’t come out all that frequently, so when it did, you felt giddy on the inside.

With a few more thrusts, both of you reach your high, and at that point Miguel did have to pull you down, although your legs currently trembled so hard it was a little difficult to stand, but he helps you out after tying the condom up and throwing it away.

“Holy shit,” you finally let out.

“Holy shit,” he agrees.

“What were you saying about your loser kink again?”

“Will you shut up about that?” He smiles.

“Was I too mean to you? I might’ve gotten a little carried away."

He looks down to the floor in embarrassment as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. “I liked it.”

“That’s good baby. So, shower?”

“Yeah you stink,” he makes a disgusted face, plugging his nose and everything just to irritate you.

You roll your eyes at him.

A/N: pls be kind to me and cut me some slack i've never posted smut before 😭 i promise ive had sex before 😭 fighting for my life lmao

#cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #miguel diaz #miguel diaz x reader #miguel diaz imagine #miguel diaz x you #cobra kai x reader #johnny lawrence #eli moskowitz #hawk #tori nichols #mars writes #miguel diaz smut #miguel diaz x reader smut

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dbphantom · 2 years ago

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Titus: WHAT are you!!!!!

Celor, actively sobbing: an accountant?

#Cruddy rambles #H2O au #OC shit #I love this idiot #This side plot has consumed me rn. Idk why. But it's what my brain is fixated on writing atm #Because. Titus having a secret identity getting mad at Celor for having a secret is SO funny to me #Like bro you. You are literally infiltrating the kingsglaive in order to feed info to the imperials. You are a GENERAL in the imperial army #But no get mad at the guy who does the citadel tax work because he's awkward and trips over himself all the time #Titus: kills an imperial defector who was sneaking clone babies into insomnia so they might live normal lives not being sacrificed #Also Titus: Celor you are a FREAK OF NATURE and deserve to be stabbed for your CRIMES #Celor [looking up from his paperwork]: wh-#Clarus: mmmm yeah Drautos is just on edge bc of the war and his home being taken by the imperials. Also Regis trusts him soooo #Meanwhile Drautos is getting fitted for his terrifying magitek armor and preparing to cut regis's hands off to get the ring #He also kills Celor just straight up stabs him during the fall of insomnia. Kinda like Clarus.#Celor bleeding out and watching fire consume his life's work: well. This... sucks. [fucking dies]#And to be clear Celor dying in this case is the Good Ending because I wrote out a Celor lives au but it's. Horrifying.#I should be nicer to him but the reality is his character would not run from the citadel during the attack even if I want him to #He would stay and try to help even if he's not a good fighter. That's just the kinda dude he is. So a Celor lives au means...#Well basically Drautos lets him live in order to take him back to Gralea and Verstael. Which. Uh oh. *Uh oh*.#So yeah. Option 1 is... Mercy.#Theoretically I could write an au where Cor drags him out of insomnia against his will but. Tbh I really just don't think Celor would let #That happen. Cor would literally have to either knock him out or tie him up which just. Isn't viable or reasonable. It wouldn't make sense #So yeah. He dies.#The Celor lives au is also a Drautos lives au. Which is also bad for Most of everybody including nyx. Like yeahhh Dude dies anyway but...

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 5 months ago

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Spider and Bats Snippets 2

[0.] [1.]

I headcanon Spider!(Y/N) meets Clark/Superman on accident before Batman does.

Just, imagine. Your heading to a part time job, super excited about it! Get on the bus, and wait... Then fall asleep..

The bus driver kicks you out at the Mertropolis bus station. Not good! You don't have enough for a ticket back to Gotham so you managed to get a part-time job at The Daily Planet, as the coffee runner! Simple enough?

Bumping into a meek Clark Kent, who is shyly thanking you for his cup of joe'. Then you, eagerly wanting a new friend in a strange enviorment, (again), asking about what he's writing.

"Wow Kent, didn't expect you to snag the new girl."

Lois teased light-heartedly. "Oh, ha-ha it's nothing like that. They're a good friend."

He shrugs it off as Lois shakes her head. "Sheesh, a lot of fella's make a LOT of trouble with that word. Good luck Smallsville."

Blinking in confusion, you were suprised she didn't notice you as you walk up beside him. "Huh... Wait, you think were good friends!?" You beam in awe at Clark, happily spinning around his desk chair. "Clark! You should of said something sooner!"

You let go, now thoughtful. "Hmmm, we should do friendship bracelets then.. I mean, I did make one with another friend of mine.. OH! I got an' idea-" "-Guh.. I-I think I.. Need to rain check.."

"Hm? What's wrong? You look dizy... Vomit-y."

I know there's different versions of how Batman met Superman. Personally, I perfer The Animated Series Ver!

I would like to think, Robin and Nightwing asked her to get Superman's autograph as a casual comment if Spider(Y/N) went to Mertropolis.

So during her "stay" at the other city, she'd often patrol and help a bit when she could.

Would totally meet Supes' on acident.

"Wow! Hello! Why is your city so much cleaner? I like your cape! Reminds me of Miguel-!" You try to descalate the situation.

You happily greet him, babbling as your buddy glared at you. You shrug at Batman's gaze, giving him a slight push. Herding him close to your side incase of any... Bad, course of action, between you and the supposed "Man of Steel".

Superman paused at the greeting, after thrown into a wall. He expected more hostily from you as well, since he read most crime-fighters were, due to the Gotham Gazette. Yet you seemed more occupied with keeping the Batman away from HIM.

Using his x-ray vision, he peaked underneath your masks.

"Bruce Wayne..." He mumbled under his breath as Batman shoved you to the side. Glaring at the super-powered male, "You peeked.."

"Hm? He did what?" You weren't paying attention, more focused on the destruction and damage. Frowning worriedly, knowung your "unexpected vaction" would meet it's end.

Superman The Animated Series: Season 1 Ep 16 - World's Finest Part 1

I can see Spider!(Y/N) being pen-pals with lot's of heros and vigilantes. Possibly even anti-heros and villians?

Carefully web-shooting the civillians away, you keep squint as you watch them dance in sync. Slightly envious, before shooting a glance at Batman.

He collapsed as groups of Music Meisters pawns held him down. Grunting as he tried to move away. You used your web to toss them away quickly. Huffing as you glanced down at your comrade.

Even with the ear-plugs, you couldn't help it!

As if spotlight shone on your cue, you sang encouragingly. Smiling underneath your mask, you hold out a hand to him. He grasps it as you slowly pull him up.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ."And you can rise above...!" ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

The Brave and the Bold Season 1 Episode 25 Mayhem of the Music Meister!

We all know that THEE Batman has a certain type.

But this is for fun, so, (。ゝ(ェ)・)-☆

Overall, I stated perviously, it's more a comedic pairing that has many set-ups to be serious.

Watching Catwoman flee once more, you walk to Bat's side. Standing beside him politely, before.. Slowly... Reaching out your hand to his. Holding it firmly with no caution.

The vigilante glares at the action, yet you don't let up as he tries to shake your hand away.

You giggle as you watch your arm swing with his, your laughter becoming louder as he finally gave in.

Batfam relationship depends on if Spider!(Y/N) came before or after the Batfam was formed.

Personally, I perfer it before. I feel like it would show growth in Bat's and Spiders dynamic.

I sorta wanna explore it, but if ya'll got ideas Im open to it.

{Yay! Another self-indulg work! Lol. I was inspired once again, I really just love that more people are intrested in the idea than just myself! Horray! Comments, art, reblogs are always wanted! This is purely for fun! If anyone gets the easter egg I put, let me know!}

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solelifauna · 2 months ago

Text

Yandere EraserMic x Reader (Commission for @ayn-yurbestie)

Thank You so much @ayn-yurbestie for supporting my page! I hope you enjoy the fic!!

You had always prided yourself on your instincts. As a former pro hero, instincts were what kept you alive during missions, during late-night patrols in the dark streets, and in confrontations with villains. It was the same instinct that had once guided you to victory, the same instinct that told you when to strike and when to retreat. It was also that very instinct that was now screaming in your head—telling you that something was horribly, terribly wrong.

You were no longer a hero; that life had been ripped from you the day All for One had taken your quirk. All for One was gone now, defeated by All Might, but the damage he had done to you was irreversible. Powerless, you were forced into early retirement.

Sure your power wasn’t flashy or explosive like some of the top pro heroes, but it was something. You had telekinesis, the ability to move objects with your mind. It wasn’t the strongest quirk out there, and you knew that. You couldn’t lift entire buildings or hurl debris the way some of your peers could with their brute strength. But your quirk had its uses, its purpose. In the field, you were invaluable in the smaller, more delicate moments, where precision and care were needed more than raw power.

You were never the front-line fighter, but you had saved people—so many people—because of that careful control you honed over the years. Whether it was pulling civilians out from under rubble with a gentle thought or stopping a speeding car just before it could crash, your telekinesis gave you purpose. It was how you helped, how you made a difference. And in a world where quirks often defined your worth, it was enough. Even though you sometimes envied the heroes with flashier abilities, you were content. You were proud of what you could do.

But when All for One took your quirk, it felt like a piece of your soul was ripped away.

The day you found out your powers were gone for good was like a nightmare you couldn’t wake from. It was surreal at first. You remembered trying to move a small object, something as simple as a cup, just to see if the connection was still there. But it wasn’t. You tried again, harder, focusing with every ounce of strength you had, but nothing happened. The cup sat on the table, unmoving. And that’s when it hit you—the horrifying realization that you would never feel that connection again. The subtle hum of your quirk, the pulse of energy that had always been there, was gone. Just–gone.

Losing your quirk felt like losing your identity. Without it, who were you? The world didn’t need a quirkless hero. You no longer had the power to save people, to help. The purpose you had lived for, the very thing that gave your life meaning, was stripped away from you in an instant. It wasn’t just the loss of your powers—it was the loss of yourself. You weren’t important anymore. You were just another powerless person in a world filled with those who could still make a difference.

The depression that followed was like a suffocating blanket, and for a long time, you weren’t sure how to keep going. You’d always known there was more to life than your quirk, but it had been your purpose. Without it, the world became dull, every day a reminder of what you could no longer do. You stopped seeing friends, stopped going out, even stopped answering your phone most days.

And that’s when Hizashi and Aizawa stepped in.

They were your lifeline. They stayed by your side when the world felt like it was crumbling. Hizashi, with his boundless optimism, never let you sink too deep into despair. He would show up at your door with takeout or coffee and insist on dragging you out of the apartment, forcing you to see the sunlight, to breathe fresh air. Aizawa, on the other hand, was quieter in his support. He never pushed, never prodded, but he was always there. Sitting with you in silence when words wouldn’t come, offering a comforting presence that made you feel less alone.

You had leaned on them more than you realized at the time. They were the ones who kept you grounded, who helped you feel like maybe, just maybe, you still had some value. They didn’t treat you like a failure, didn’t see you as “just quirkless.” They treated you like you. And for a while, it helped. It gave you the strength to start rebuilding your life, even if it was a life without hero work.

You had always been grateful to them for that—for helping you when you felt like you were drowning.

You never imagined that same support would turn into something more sinister.

After that, life had become quieter, less exciting, but you'd managed. You tried your best to adapt, to live a "normal" life—though nothing about being quirkless in a society full of heroes was truly normal. But lately... something had changed.

It started small—little things you tried to dismiss. Hizashi insisting on accompanying you everywhere, even to mundane tasks like grocery shopping; Aizawa constantly checking in on you, dropping by unannounced, or sending texts at odd hours to make sure you were "safe." At first, you thought it was just their way of looking out for you. After all, you were quirkless now, they were probably worried that you were more vulnerable. So, you just called it off as the two being worry-warts.

But as time passed, slowly, their behavior became more suffocating. Hizashi would show up at your apartment early in the morning, coffee in hand, saying he wanted to "spend time" with you, his energy far too high for the early hours; Aizawa would come in the evening, staying late into the night, lounging on your couch like he lived there. They would ask questions—innocuous at first, but they slowly grew more invasive.

“Where were you going?”

“Who were you with?”

“What time would you be back?”

Something about the way they looked at you had shifted too. Hizashi’s usual bright smile now seemed strained, the glint in his eyes unsettling. Aizawa’s gaze, once indifferent, had become sharp, always watching, always observing. You started feeling like prey under their gaze, and the worst part was, they acted like nothing had changed, like this was perfectly normal behavior.

You tried to distance yourself. You told them you needed time alone, space to process your new life. You even started lying about your whereabouts, saying you were out of town, too busy to meet. But it didn’t work. They were always there, lurking, like shadows you couldn’t escape.

It all came to a head one cold autumn evening.

You had decided to confront them. Maybe if you explained your concerns, they would back off. Maybe it was all in your head, and you were just being paranoid. After all, they were your friends. Right?

You invited them over to your apartment, hoping to clear the air. The moment they arrived, you felt the tension crackling in the air. Hizashi’s usual cheerfulness was there, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Aizawa was as stoic as ever, but his gaze was piercing, as though he could see right through you.

“So, what’s up, baby?” Hizashi asked, plopping down on your couch with a wide grin, using that affectionate nickname that you once found endearing but now grated on your nerves.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “We need to talk.”

Aizawa leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on you. “About what?”

You hesitated, unsure of how to put your feelings into words without sounding accusatory. But you couldn’t back down now. “I just–I feel like things have been different between us. I need space. I need to figure things out on my own, without you both hovering over me all the time.”

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Hizashi’s smile faltered, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Hovering?” he repeated, his voice deceptively light.

Aizawa remained silent, his expression unreadable, but the air around him seemed to grow heavier.

“Yes,” you said, trying to stay firm. “I appreciate that you care about me, but I’m not a child. I’m not helpless. I need to be able to live my life without feeling like I’m constantly being watched.”

Hizashi’s grin twisted into something darker, something almost predatory. “We’re just looking out for you, songbird. You know the world’s dangerous, especially for someone without a quirk.”

“And who knows what kind of people are out there,” Aizawa added, his voice low, almost a growl. “We’re the only ones who can keep you safe.”

You took a step back, your instincts flaring to life. Danger. The way they were looking at you now—possessive, controlling—set off alarms in your mind. This wasn’t the reaction of concerned friends. This was something else entirely.

“I don’t need your protection,” you said, your voice shaking slightly despite your best efforts to stay calm. “I can take care of myself.”

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. “No, you can’t.”

Before you could react, Hizashi was on his feet, moving faster than you anticipated. He grabbed your wrist, his grip tight and unyielding. “We’re not letting you go, baby! Not now. Not ever.”

Panic surged through you, adrenaline flooding your system.

“Hizashi, let go,” you said, your voice tight with alarm. You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, fingers digging into your skin with surprising strength. Your heart began to race as you looked over at Aizawa, who was standing silently near the door, watching the scene unfold with that same calm, emotionless expression.

Panic surged through you, adrenaline flooding your system. You yanked your arm back, managing to break free from Hizashi’s grasp immediately backing up towards the door, heart pounding in your chest. This isn’t happening.

“Relax, baby,” Hizashi murmured, his voice unnervingly soft, “we’re not going to hurt you. We just–we need you to come with us.”

His words sent a bolt of fear through you. This wasn’t a misunderstanding. This was planned.

Your pulse spiked, adrenaline surging through your veins as the realization fully sank in. You jerked your arms free from Hizashi’s grasp, stepping back with wide eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?” you spat, your voice rising. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

Aizawa pushed off the wall, his expression cold, calculating. “That’s not going to happen, (Y/n). You’re coming with us, one way or another.”

Panic flooded your body, and you took another step back, your mind racing. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. They were your friends. You tried to reach for something, anything, to defend yourself, but before you could act, Hizashi lunged, grabbing you again—harder this time.

“Let go of me!” you screamed, twisting violently in his grip, but he was stronger than you. He always had been. Quirkless or not, you still knew how to fight. You swung an elbow back, connecting with Hizashi’s side, and he grunted in pain. The moment his grip loosened, you bolted. Instinct took over again, and you lunged toward the nearest object—a lamp on the side table. You swung it at Aizawa, who ducked just in time, but the distraction gave you enough time to bolt toward the door.

But Aizawa was faster.

Before you could even reach the handle, something whipped around your ankles, pulling you off balance. His capture weapon. You crashed to the ground with a sharp cry, your knees slamming into the floor. Pain shot up your legs, but you didn’t stop. You twisted onto your back, kicking wildly as Aizawa’s scarf tightened around you, but he didn’t flinch. His eyes were hard now, his calm demeanor replaced with a cold determination.

“Stubborn as always,” Aizawa muttered, pulling you back toward him with a slow, deliberate motion.

You struggled, kicking and clawing, trying to break free, but his scarf tightened around you, binding your arms to your sides. Hizashi was suddenly there, grabbing your legs and pinning them down.

“Fuck you!” you shouted, clawing at the scarf, trying desperately to loosen its grip. “Let me go!”

Aizawa’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t place—regret, maybe? It didn’t matter. His capture weapon tightened, and you could feel it constricting around your wrists, pinning your arms to your sides. “You’ll hurt yourself if you keep fighting.”

The anger bubbling inside you reached a boiling point. You thrashed in his hold, kicking and writhing as the fear and betrayal turned into a raw, primal rage.

Hizashi’s grin was gone, replaced with a look of dark satisfaction. “Come on now, baby. No need to fight us. You’re ours.”

“Please,” you gasped, your voice breaking. “Don’t do this.”

Aizawa crouched down beside you, his hand gently brushing your hair out of your face. “We’re doing this because we love you, (Y/n). You’ll understand soon enough.”

Before you could protest further, you felt a sharp prick in your arm. A needle. And just like that the world around you started to blur, your limbs growing heavy as whatever drug concoction coursed through your veins.

“No...” you whispered, your vision darkening. “No...”

The last thing you saw was Aizawa’s cold, calculating gaze and Hizashi’s too-bright smile before the world went black.

When your consciousness fully returned, you tried to focus, but the haze from the drugs still clung to you like fog. Your limbs felt sluggish, and your thoughts were scattered. As the seconds ticked by, awareness seeped back in, and with it, came the terror. You tugged at the restraints binding your wrists, but they didn’t give. The soft material was deceptively gentle, but they held you firmly in place. A glance around the room made the walls seem closer, the dim lighting barely enough to see. Panic set in as you realized the full extent of your situation. You were trapped. Kidnapped by the very people you had once trusted.

The memories rushed back—the confrontation with Hizashi and Aizawa, the struggle, the needle. They had taken you. Your stomach churned as the reality of it hit you with full force. These were the people you had once called your friends, comrades. You had trusted them, fought alongside them. Now they had taken everything from you, just like All for One had taken your powers.

That thought, the loss of your quirk, stabbed at you with an old ache. Your powers were gone, leaving you defenseless. You were no longer a hero; you were no one. Just a quirkless, vulnerable shell of who you used to be. Even worse, you had no family to notice your absence. You had distanced yourself from most of your friends after your forced retirement, trying to rebuild your life in isolation.

You were completely alone.

Nobody would come looking for you.

And who would even suspect them? Two beloved pro heroes, trusted by the public, adored by their students, respected by their peers. No one would ever believe that Present Mic and Eraserhead had kidnapped someone. That thought alone sending a chill down your spine.

Your breathing grew uneven as the weight of your situation pressed down on you. How had it come to this? You had always known something was off with their behavior, but you hadn’t imagined this. This betrayal felt like a physical blow, a deep wound that no amount of healing could fix.

And then it boiled over. The anger surged through you like a wildfire, burning away the fog in your mind. You yanked at the restraints, your muscles straining as you twisted in bed, trying to free yourself, but it was futile.

“Why?!” you screamed, your voice hoarse, desperation lacing every word. “Why are you doing this?! What is wrong with you?”

The door to the room creaked open, and they stepped inside as if on cue, as though they had been waiting just beyond the door. Aizawa was as calm and collected as always, his dark eyes expressionless, while Hizashi wore a soft, almost sympathetic smile that made you want to scream even more.

“You’re awake,” Aizawa observed quietly, his voice low and measured. “Good.”

You ignored him, focusing instead on the knot of betrayal and confusion that twisted in your chest.

“Why are you doing this?” you repeated, your voice breaking now. “I trusted you! You were my friends!”

Hizashi stepped closer, hands raised in what he must have thought was a calming gesture. “We’re your friends, baby. We love you.”

“This isn't love!” you shouted, fury and fear colliding in your chest. “You kidnapped me! You drugged me! This is—this is insane!”

Your heart raced, the walls of the room closing in on you as the magnitude of what was happening sank deeper into your bones. Every breath felt tighter, like there wasn’t enough air, like the room was shrinking. You tugged at the restraints again, your body fighting against the impossible, but all it did was make your head spin.

Panic clawed at you, rising quickly, uncontrollably. It was a feeling you hadn’t had in a long time, not since–

Not since them.

The memories you had tried so hard to bury came rushing back. The League of Villains. All for One. The dark, cold rooms where you had been held captive for weeks, powerless and helpless. The suffocating sensation of being watched, manipulated, tortured, and toyed with. The feeling of having no escape.

It was happening all over again.

Your breath hitched in your throat as the panic attack overwhelmed you, your chest tightening until you couldn’t breathe. You could hear Hizashi’s voice, soothing, but distant, as though he was speaking from the other side of a wall.

“Hey, hey, easy now, baby. Breathe for me, okay? It’s going to be alright.”

His voice blurred with the rush of your pulse in your ears. You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. All you could feel was the crushing weight of being trapped, of losing everything again. Your hands shook uncontrollably as you tried to pull in a breath that wouldn’t come. The room tilted, spinning, suffocating.

Aizawa moved closer, his presence steady, grounding. He reached out, his hand brushing gently against your cheek. “Look at me,” he commanded, his voice calm, firm. “Breathe. You’re safe.”

Safe. The word felt like a mockery. Nothing about this was safe. You had been here before, in a different room, with different captors. But the feeling was the same—powerless. Trapped. Alone.

Tears streamed down your face, your body trembling with the force of the panic attack. You couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop the overwhelming tide of terror that drowned you. Your chest heaved, gasping for air that wouldn’t fill your lungs.

“Shh,” Hizashi whispered softly, kneeling beside you. “It’s okay, baby. We’re here. We’re not going to hurt you.”

Aizawa’s hand stayed on your cheek, grounding you, his gaze steady, but there was something in his eyes—a softness, a gentleness that contradicted everything they had done to you. It confused you. You had been prepared for cruelty, for punishment, for violence. But this?

“You’re not in danger,” Aizawa murmured, his voice still that same low, hypnotic tone. “No one’s going to hurt you. Breathe with me.”

You tried, gasping, struggling to follow his lead. Inhale. Exhale. Slowly–slowly, the world stopped spinning. The tightness in your chest eased just a fraction, but the tears kept coming, falling in silent streams down your face.

You were too exhausted to fight anymore, the adrenaline pumping in your body was beginning to crash, and your body too wracked with panic and fear to keep resisting. For a moment, a brief, fleeting moment, you let yourself believe them. You let yourself believe that you were safe, that they would protect you, that this was some twisted version of love.

Hizashi’s hand gently wiped the tears from your cheeks, his touch soft, tender. “That’s it. We’ve got you.”

You nodded weakly, your mind foggy, the weight of exhaustion settling deep into your bones. For a moment, you forgot that you were their prisoner, forgot that they had drugged you and taken you against your will. You forgot the gravity of your situation and simply let yourself be comforted.

But it didn’t last.

Reality crashed down on you again like a tidal wave, and the illusion shattered. You weren’t safe. You weren’t loved. You were trapped. You were their prisoner, bound to this bed, helpless, powerless.

“Why?” you whispered, your voice raw, broken. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Aizawa’s expression didn’t change. He regarded you with that same calm, detached gaze, as though the answer was simple. “Because we care about you.”

Hizashi nodded, his usual cheer replaced by a more serious tone. “The world’s dangerous, baby. You’re not a hero anymore. You’re vulnerable. We just want to protect you.”

“You’re lying,” you spat, your voice rising again with fresh anger. “You’re not doing this for me. You’re doing this for yourselves!”

Aizawa’s grip on your face tightened, just slightly. “It’s not that we don’t trust you,” he said, his voice low and measured. “It’s the world we don’t trust. You’re not safe out there. Not without your quirk. And we can’t risk losing you.”

Hizashi leaned in closer, his hand brushing your hair away from your face. “You don’t know how many people would love to hurt you, baby. We do. We see it every day. We’re just keeping you safe.”

The absurdity of their reasoning made your head spin. They spoke as if they were doing you a favor, as if they had taken you to protect you from some nebulous, unseen danger. But the real danger was right in front of you. It was them.

“I don’t need your protection,” you said, your voice trembling with barely restrained fury. “I don’t need you. I was fine on my own. You’re the ones hurting me.”

They exchanged a look, one that made your stomach drop. There was something unspoken between them, something dark and possessive that you couldn’t quite place.

“You’ll see, (Y/n),” Aizawa said, his voice calm, but there was an edge to it now. “In time, you’ll understand.”

Hizashi nodded, his smile returning, but it was softer now, more intimate. “We love you, baby. And we’re never going to let you go.”

You felt the bile rise in your throat. They weren’t going to let you go. You were their prisoner now, and nothing you said or did would change that.

—

Days bled into weeks, and the routine you found yourself in was both mind-numbing and soul-crushing. Every morning, you woke up to the soft clink of the shackles around your wrists and ankles, limiting your movements. The room they kept you in had become your prison, a far cry from the freedom you once enjoyed as a hero. The windows were bolted shut, their frames reinforced with unbreakable metal. No matter how hard you tried, no matter how desperately you searched for something—anything—you could use to break the glass, nothing worked. You were trapped, left to your own devices in this small, confining space while they continued their lives outside.

The chains only allowed you to move a few feet from the bed—enough to pace the room, to stretch your legs, but never enough to reach the door. Your muscles ached from the confinement, and your mind began to fray from the constant isolation. The soft clinking of the chains became a haunting lullaby, a cruel reminder of your captivity.

They were still pro heroes, after all. They had to leave for work, had to uphold their public images, and pretend to be the righteous, selfless men everyone believed them to be. During those long stretches of time when Aizawa and Hizashi were away, you were left alone in the suffocating silence, your thoughts spiraling as the reality of your situation weighed down on you like a crushing force.

You had no quirk. No allies. No one to help you.

Meanwhile, outside the walls of your prison, people were beginning to notice your absence. It had been too long since you last made contact with any of your old colleagues, and even though you had distanced yourself after your forced retirement, a few people still cared enough to be concerned. All Might had always kept an eye on you, even after you left the hero business. And Midoriya, who had once looked up to you as a mentor, had begun to voice his worries.

“Has anyone seen her recently?” Midoriya asked one day, his eyes full of concern as he spoke to All Might. “She hasn’t responded to any of my messages in weeks.”

All Might frowned, his brows furrowing in thought. “No… now that you mention it, I haven’t heard from her either. It’s not like her to disappear like this.”

They weren’t the only ones who noticed. Rumors had begun to spread among your former colleagues, whispers that something was wrong. Even the students at U.A. began to ask questions. It was only a matter of time before someone started digging deeper.

Aizawa and Hizashi, of course, played their roles perfectly. They acted concerned, pretending to be as worried as everyone else. When people asked if they had seen you, they would exchange concerned glances, shake their heads, and say things like, “She’s been through a lot. Maybe she just needed some space.”

But behind the facade, they were always watching, always planning. The more worried your former colleagues became, the tighter your captors’ grip grew. They couldn’t risk anyone finding out what they had done.

Your days were a cycle of monotony, designed to break you down piece by piece. Every morning, Aizawa would come into your room and release the chains just long enough for you to stretch and shower. He never left your side during those moments, his eyes always on you, making sure you didn’t try anything. Hizashi would prepare breakfast, cheerful as always, as if this were all perfectly normal.

Afterward, they’d leave for work, securing you in the room with a soft kiss to your forehead as if they were tucking in a beloved pet before heading out for the day. You hated how a part of you craved those small gestures, the human connection that you were so starved for. It was shameful, disgusting, but in your darkest moments of isolation, you clung to it.

When they returned, it was time for what they mockingly called “dates.” They acted like nothing had changed, like this was just the old days when the three of you would hang out, laugh, and enjoy each other’s company. But now, the dynamic had shifted, warped beyond recognition. You weren’t a friend or an equal anymore. You were their captive.

They would sit you down on the couch, unlock the chains, and put on a movie, as if you were simply unwinding after a long day. But the suffocating reality was always there, lurking just beneath the surface. You couldn’t enjoy the moments like you used to. Every second felt like a mockery of your previous life, like they were taunting you with what you had lost.

Believe it or not, here had been a time, not so long ago, when your relationship with Hizashi and Aizawa was far different from this twisted, suffocating nightmare. Back when you were still a hero, before your quirk was stolen and your life unraveled, they had been a source of comfort and light during some of your darkest days. It was hard not to feel drawn to them. They were both so different, yet their presence in your life had filled a void you hadn’t even realized existed.

Hizashi, with his infectious energy and boundless enthusiasm, always had a way of making you smile, even when everything around you seemed bleak. His bright eyes and easy laughter made you feel like maybe—just maybe—there was still something good left in the world. Aizawa, on the other hand, was quieter, steadier. His calm, rational demeanor always grounded you when the chaos of hero life threatened to overwhelm you. And though his face rarely showed emotion, there was a kindness in his gaze, a subtle protectiveness that made you feel safe.

It wasn’t long before those feelings of safety and comfort started to morph into something deeper, something you hadn’t anticipated. You found yourself looking forward to the moments when you could be around them, even if it was just sharing a cup of coffee or talking about missions. There was a time when you imagined what it would be like to be something more with them—what it would be like to let yourself fall in love with them.

But you never said anything. How could you? At the time, there was an all-out war brewing with the League of Villains and All for One. Every moment was tense, every mission a risk. There simply wasn’t room for anything as fragile as romantic feelings, not when the world could come crashing down around you at any moment.

Besides, you had always thought that Aizawa and Hizashi were more interested in each other. You saw the way they interacted—the unspoken understanding, the way they moved like two parts of the same whole. They had a bond that went far beyond what you shared with either of them, and you didn’t want to complicate things. So you buried your feelings, locking them away in the deepest corners of your heart. The feelings lingered, simmering beneath the surface, but you convinced yourself that it was enough just to be their friend. It had to be enough.

Over time, you learned to live with those unspoken emotions, content with the friendship you had built with them. You never expected things to turn out like this. You never imagined that the same men who once brought warmth and light into your life would twist that affection into something possessive, something terrifying. The betrayal stung even more because of those old, lingering feelings, and now you were trapped in this nightmare, bound by the very people you once thought you could trust.

And as you lay there, shackled and helpless, a small part of you couldn't help but wonder how everything had gone so horribly, horribly wrong.

It was almost laughable—almost—when you thought about it. If they had just asked you out, if Hizashi or Aizawa had come to you one day and expressed their feelings like normal people, you probably would’ve said yes. You’d spent enough time with them, trusted them enough that, had things been different, a romantic relationship could’ve blossomed naturally. You even caught yourself daydreaming about it once or twice—a casual date, coffee in the city, a lazy afternoon curled up on the couch together after a long mission.

But that was the thing about your life: nothing good ever happened the way it was supposed to.

Instead of a sweet, tentative romance, they had chosen to twist their affection into something dark, something that suffocated rather than nurtured. They didn’t ask for your consent, your interest, or your desire, they didn’t give you the choice. They had taken that from you, just like All for One had taken your powers. That was what stung the most—the loss of your autonomy, the fact that they didn’t believe you could love them without being forced into it.

It was ironic, really. The same men who had once brought comfort to your life had stripped away the last semblance of control you had left. And now, bound by chains—literally and figuratively—you couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at the thought.

A normal life? A healthy relationship? Maybe in another world, in another life. But not this one.

In this one, you were always destined to have everything go wrong, to have the things you cared about twisted into something ugly. Whether it was your powers, your career, or even your heart, you were cursed to lose it all in the most painful way possible. And now, here you were, shackled in a room by the very people who could have been your salvation if only they had given you a choice.

Now, you just had to bare this taunt–taunt of domesticity and of what could have been.

Sometimes, Hizashi would cook dinner, setting up a romantic atmosphere in the dining room, as though you were on a real date. Aizawa would pour wine, speaking softly about his day, his eyes never leaving yours. They acted as though this was love, as though this was how things were meant to be.

And slowly, painfully, you began to understand. You began to realize that the only way to survive, to have any hope of escape, was to play along.

So you did.

You forced yourself to smile during their twisted “dates.” You laughed at Hizashi’s jokes, even when your stomach churned with revulsion. You leaned into Aizawa’s touch, allowing him to pet your hair, to hold you like you were his most prized possession. It was excruciating, but it worked.

Over time, they started to trust you more. The chains became looser, the supervision less strict. They allowed you more freedom within the house, slowly granting you access to areas beyond the small prison of your room.

And one day, they made their first mistake.

The window was cracked just slightly, a minuscule error in Aizawa’s otherwise meticulous preparation. It was late, and the two of them had returned home exhausted from their day as heroes. Hizashi had fallen asleep on the couch, and Aizawa, for once, had let his guard down, leaving you alone for just a little too long.

It was all you needed.

With trembling hands, you wedged a piece of furniture under the window and managed to pry it open just enough to slip your body through. The adrenaline pumping through your veins pushed you forward, giving you strength you hadn’t felt in months.

The night air hit your skin like a shock to the system, and for a brief, fleeting moment, you were free.

You ran.

Your bare feet pounded against the pavement as you sprinted down the dark, empty streets, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You didn’t know where you were going—just away. Away from the nightmare that had consumed your life, away from the men who had taken everything from you.

But you didn’t make it far.

A dark figure appeared in your path, blocking your escape. Aizawa. His capture weapon lashed out with deadly precision, wrapping around one of your ankles and yanking you off your feet. You hit the ground hard,stars blurring your vision.

Before you could even attempt to get up, Aizawa was on you, his hand pressing down on the back of your neck, pinning you to the cold ground.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he murmured, his voice frighteningly calm.

You struggled, thrashing beneath him, but he didn’t budge. His grip was ironclad, his body heavy against yours. “Let me go!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face. “Let me go!”

“You know we can’t do that,” he said, tightening his hold. “We gave you freedom, and you tried to run. You betrayed our trust, (Y/n).”

Before you could respond, you heard footsteps approaching, and then Hizashi was there, his face pale with shock and fury. His usual cheerfulness was gone, replaced by an expression of raw, hurt and anger.

“Why, baby?” Hizashi asked, his voice trembling with emotion. “We trusted you. We thought you were starting to understand.”

Your chest heaved with sobs as you lay pinned to the ground, Aizawa’s hand still pressing down on you. “I… I’m sorry,” you choked out, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “I just–I can’t do this. I can’t stay.”

Aizawa’s grip on you loosened slightly, but he didn’t let you up. “You don’t have a choice anymore.”

Hizashi crouched beside you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “We gave you everything. We’ve taken care of you, kept you safe. And this is how you repay us?”

You closed your eyes, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks. “I never wanted this. I just wanted my life back.”

Aizawa’s grip tightened again, and his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “Your old life is over. You belong to us now. There is no going back.”

They dragged you back to the house, back to the prison they had made for you. The fleeting taste of freedom you had experienced was gone, and in its place was the cold, hard reality that they weren’t going to let you go. Not now. Not ever.

As they secured the chains around your wrists once more, you felt the weight of their anger and disappointment settle over you like a shroud. This time, there would be no more illusions of trust, no more moments of freedom. They had made that mistake once, and they wouldn’t make it again.

Hizashi helped you to your feet, but the restraints remained in place, a constant reminder of their control over you. The night air felt colder now, your escape attempt now a fading dream as you were led back toward the house, their grip on you firmer than ever before.

After the night of your failed escape, everything changed. When they brought you back to the house, it was as if the last thread of trust they had given you had snapped. Whatever illusion of freedom they had let you believe in was gone, and in its place was a harsher, more suffocating control.

The chains no longer came off. Not even for the brief moments when you had been allowed to stretch or walk around the room. Now, they kept you bound at all times, the cuffs around your wrists and ankles rubbing raw against your skin. The shackles were short, giving you just enough movement to sit or lie down, but not much more. The freedom to roam the house, to take cautious steps beyond your bedroom, was gone; in its place was a constant reminder of your failure: the cold, unforgiving weight of the chains that kept you in place.

Aizawa and Hizashi no longer trusted you with the smallest liberties. No more solo showers, no more time alone without supervision; every aspect of your life was now micromanaged, controlled by them. When Aizawa brought you food, he would sit nearby, silently watching you eat, making sure you didn’t attempt anything. Hizashi had stopped his usual playful banter, and now his cheerful facade was replaced with something darker—a quiet disappointment that lingered in the air, heavy and oppressive.

As a punishment, they kept you isolated for longer stretches of time. They would leave for work early in the morning, locking the door behind them with the chains still in place, and the hours stretched into agonizingly slow days. You had once been left alone for shorter periods, with moments of relative freedom, but now they kept you confined to this room for nearly the entire day, the windows remaining bolted shut, and the darkness outside became a reflection of the suffocating isolation that filled every corner of your mind.

At first, you tried to resist, clinging to your anger and resentment. You reminded yourself of what they had done, what they had taken from you. They had betrayed your trust, warped their love into something controlling and manipulative. But as the days passed, the isolation began to wear you down. There was no escape, no reprieve from the constant silence, the never-ending loneliness.

Without them, there was nothing. No sound, no presence, no life. You spent hours staring at the walls, your mind circling endlessly around the same dark thoughts. You tried to distract yourself, tried to hold onto whatever fragments of sanity you had left, but it was impossible. The isolation gnawed at you, piece by piece, until all that was left was a hollow ache that you couldn’t ignore.

And then, something worse started to happen.

You began to miss them.

It wasn’t like before, when their presence had been a reminder of your prison. Now, after days spent in silence, you found yourself waiting for the sound of the door unlocking, for the moment when one of them would return. You hated yourself for it, but you couldn’t deny the twisted relief that washed over you when Aizawa stepped through the door after his patrol, or when Hizashi’s bright voice called out a greeting from the hallway.

It wasn’t that you forgot what they had done. You didn’t. You could never forget. But the need for human interaction, for any kind of connection, had become overwhelming. Your mind, starved of contact, began to cling to the smallest scraps of attention they gave you. You were so, so utterly alone, that even their possessive touches and controlling words felt like something you could hold onto. Anything was better than the crushing loneliness of your room.

You tried to fight it. You tried to remind yourself that they weren’t your saviors—they were the ones who had taken everything from you. But it became harder and harder to maintain that anger when you were trapped in that room for days on end with nothing but your own thoughts to keep you company.

But the loneliness warped your emotions, twisting them into something unrecognizable. You found yourself anticipating their return, eager for those moments when they would sit with you, talk to you, touch you. Even if their affection was twisted and wrong, it was still something. And in your isolation, even that “something” became precious.

You hated how your body responded when Aizawa gently stroked your hair, the way your heart skipped when Hizashi smiled at you, even if his smiles no longer carried the same warmth they once did. It was disgusting, shameful, but you couldn’t help it. You were human, and humans weren’t meant to be alone. Not like this.

It became your routine: waiting. Waiting for the sound of footsteps outside the door, waiting for the moment when they would come back and break the silence that was slowly driving you mad. You didn’t want to feel this way—you wanted to resist, to fight back—but how could you fight against something as basic as the need for human connection?

When they finally came back from work, you found yourself relaxing in a way that scared you. The familiar weight of their presence in the room brought a twisted comfort, even if it was accompanied by chains and control. They would sit with you, sometimes in silence, sometimes talking as if nothing had changed. Hizashi would brush his fingers through your hair, and Aizawa would sit beside you, his quiet presence grounding you in ways you hated to admit.

There were no more "dates," not after your escape attempt. Instead, they kept you tethered to your room, the shackles around your ankles and wrists reminding you of your place. But they still tried to give you affection, as if they believed they could make you love them again.

And in your darkest moments, you wondered if they already had.

You hated how you looked forward to the simple touch of Hizashi's hand on your shoulder, or the rare moments when Aizawa would sit close enough for you to feel his warmth. It was twisted, and you knew it. They had stolen your freedom, taken your life, and yet, your body craved the attention. It was sickening.

You had nothing else. No friends, no family, no life outside these four walls. Aizawa and Hizashi had become your entire world, and no matter how much you wanted to resist, you couldn’t deny that part of you—some deep, desperate part of you—needed them now.

It was a slow, agonizing process, but as the days turned into weeks, you began to accept your new reality. The loneliness was unbearable, and the only relief came from them. You found yourself smiling at Hizashi’s jokes, leaning into Aizawa’s quiet presence, not because you forgave them, but because it was the only way to survive.

You told yourself it was a strategy, a way to make them trust you again. You needed to play along, to make them believe you were starting to accept this life, so they would loosen the chains, and give you more freedom again (yeah, like they'd fall for that trick again). And maybe, one day, you would find another opportunity to escape.

But deep down, you weren’t sure if that was the truth anymore.

Sometimes, in the quiet moments when you were alone, you wondered if you were starting to lose yourself. If the isolation and control had finally broken something inside of you. You despised the chains, but the thought of being left completely alone again terrified you.

So you played along. You smiled when they came home, you laughed at Hizashi’s jokes, and you leaned into Aizawa’s comforting presence.

You were losing yourself, piece by piece, but you couldn’t stop. It was the only way to survive.

And the worst part? A small, shameful part of you almost didn’t mind anymore.

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yandereforme · 2 months ago

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OK, I know I’m more well known for my Batfam stories but I was struck by a thought

Yandere Class 1-A and Yandere Class 1-B with a neglected and oblivious reader

Your quirk isn’t the most outwardly useful and you aren’t a giant fighter, so you tend to get overlooked a lot. (You are also probably the youngest in the class.) You try to make friends with your classmates and try to get your teacher’s praise, but a lot of of the time you feel pushed aside and forgotten. Some of the class seems to treat you like an afterthought while others treat you like you can’t do anything right.

Then, Kendo would find you training in the gym while crying because everyone in class forgot it was your birthday, even though you reminded them several times and they remembered each other‘s birthdays. You are just really sad, but you’re trying to get better because you think if you get better, they will pay attention to you.

Kendo definitely comforts you and takes you out for ice cream. She swaps numbers and invites you to join Class 1-B on a shopping trip the next day. You integrate into the class pretty easily after that, the only roadblock probably being Monoma, but I feel like he would switch from “You are in Class 1-A and are scum” to “Your class is scum and you should be in 1-B” pretty quickly.(the entire class will see you as a little kid, so you probably aren’t going to be trained that well, but it’s better than being an outsider)

You also are withdrawing yourself from all of your classmates now that you have friends. You don’t do any of the little things that you used to. You aren’t offering homework help or hiding snacks in people’s desks when they are upset. Everyone is noticing the difference, but they can’t figure out what caused the change in the mood.(None of them really noticed you doing these things.)

Then, I think Vlad would approach Aizawa and mention possibly transferring you. Aizawa would definitely brush it off, but when he focuses on your presence, he realizes that you were the one doing all of those good things and that you’ve stopped. His final straw would be when he realizes that you were the one who was leaving coffee on his desk every morning before class and sees you hand Vlad a pastry from the same coffee shop.

That adds Yan! Aizawa into the ring.

Class 1-A takes a little longer, but I think they would slowly notice overtime in groups of two or three that you weren’t around as much and would see you out with members of class 1-B.

The breaking point is definitely when you submit paperwork to switch classes. This causes a giant uproar that you did not see coming, with both the students and the teachers being at each other’s throats. Nezu eventually makes an agreement that you will stay in 1-A until the end of the next semester and after that, if you still want to transfer, you will go to 1-B.

Your class is taken that as a challenge to change your mind, thus leading to the Cold War between the classes. You are oblivious to this are just happy you have friends, so they are nice to each other’s faces when you are around. Make no mistake, they’re at each other‘s throats the minute you turn away.

#yandere #yandere prompt #platonic yandere #yandere class 1 a #yandere class 1a scenarios #Yandere class 1b #yandere aizawa #yandere vlad #yandere bnha

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yanderestarangel · 1 year ago

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HEADKANONS SYZOTH | REPTILE MK1 WITH S/O

A/N: Some people asked for Syzoth, so here you horny b*tches. Do you want to make a request? Read my blog rules in the pinned post, comments and reblogs are welcome♡

TW: sfw and smut headcanons, afab reader, masculine and feminine pronouns used in pet names "good boy/good girl", breeding kink, vaginal sex.

Syzoth is a caring and protective lover. He's the kind of man who knows what it's like to lose everything, he lost his family because of Shang Tsung, so he will love you and cling to you as if you were his last chance to be happy in the world - what a technical, and truth -

He met you after helping Liu Kang and his fighters, you were a citizen of the earthly plane and met Syzoth through Liu himself, he said that the two of you would make a cute couple, making Syzoth blush slightly when he looked at you and then looked away. his face flushed but he knew it was true, you really were a beautiful and kind person, everything he was looking for in a life partner.

He started visiting you, bringing you flowers he picked himself, of several different species, some still came with fresh dirt on the stem but what mattered was the man's intention, right?

Syzoth would jump up to your window in the middle of the night, so to be with you, he would also maybe watch you sleep, sometimes the concept can be scary but he likes to see you lying there, peacefully and protected from the world and the evils of men. He even swore to protect you regardless of what happened, he failed one family, he wasn't going to fail another.

Syzoth and you dated for years until he asked you to marry him, he hoped to save the necessary money and also build - himself - a house for the two of you, it would be a house in the forest, fairy tale style, with a flower garden in the background, a small lake in front and several little animals scattered around the property, a dream that Syzoth has always had of a calm and homely life.

Your wedding was simple, few people were invited and it was the first and last time he wore a suit in his life, a fine suit given as a gift by Johnny Cage - who was invited to be best man at your wedding, along with from Ashrah, who was the godmother - it was a quick but extremely beautiful ceremony, being held in Empress Sindel's gardens, she herself authorized the ceremony, while you were able to smile and shed tears of emotion.

You two will have a calm and simple life, with Syzoth giving you everything for a comfortable day to day life. He will also be the type who prefers you to stay at home, he is extremely paranoid because of Shang Tsung's traumas, in other words, he will give the speech: "-You are my husband/wife, I will give you everything I want." you need in this life, just stay home and take care of yourself, please (Y/N).” -He says this in a calm but emotional voice, gently taking him in his arms, while holding back tears as he remembers the family he lost, please, just stay at home for this man.

Syzoth is the type who also loves knowing the culture of the earthly plane, he didn't even know what a cell phone was so if you give him one, he will be confused, but he learns extremely quickly - He will use your photo in everything, like wallpaper, profile icon etc, he has basic social networks to communicate with you, you found about 56 calls from Johnny to him, and he didn't answer any of them leaving poor Cage talking to himself -

He likes to hang out indoors when the two of you are alone. You will see him practically 24 hours a day naked around the house, exposing his physique and tattoos to you, hugging you from behind and kissing you on the cheek, while flexing his muscles on your soft skin.

He is not jealous, he trusts you and knows that you love him, but please don't push his buttons by trying to make him jealous on purpose, he will get extremely upset and go to sleep in the living room or outside the house, or even cry, he is a little sensitive and explosive with very intense feelings.

He likes to be suffocated between your thighs, I don't know, he then loves to feel the pressure of the soft flesh of your thighs pressing his face, he gets extremely hard, whether with him sucking your pussy or just with him between your legs, he smiles and I even beg you to squeeze harder. "-Yes my love, harder, squeeze me with your thighs, I love you so much Fuuuck-" -He spoke in a breathless voice, between his thighs while squeezing you with his hands.

He has a breeding kink, deal with that too, regardless of whether you are a man or a woman, he will get you pregnant.

Syzoth is not a virgin, but he is also not extremely expert, he knows the basics, so please teach him what you like, especially him paying attention to your clitoris, he will understand and massage it with his fingers and tongue, after seeing your reactions of pleasure he will become addicted to working on your clitoris, sucking you for 24 hours, you will have at least three orgasms in the day, with Syzoth between your legs looking at you with his penetrating green irises, eating you from the outside while you trembled under the touch of his tongue, he has a sexual pattern, with his favorite sexual positions being:

The Captain : Seeing you lying down opening your legs for him and exposing your beautiful pussy makes Syzoth want to cum even without penetration, but he can handle it, for you. He gets on his knees on the bed, holding both of your ankles in a V position, to further expose your open and wet pussy to him, he penetrates you slowly, stretching you little by little. "-Fuck sweetheart, I really love his pussy, I could fuck you all night you know? I can move right?" -He spoke between moans, starting to move his hips while watching your reactions of pleasure upon receiving his cock.

The Hot Seat : He loves to sit on the edge of the bed, spread his thighs and hold his hard cock, so you can sit with your pussy on it - he likes to do this position when you are already tired and overstimulated - Syzoth loves to see your ass bouncing him, while his dick enters your pussy, he uses one of his hands to stimulate your clitoris, while he uses his feet on the floor to have more momentum to fuck you, while the other hand cups your breast, squeezing it lightly, placing kisses sloppy behind your back. "-Please keep it up, yes, take it all like the good boy/girl you are, just take my seed inside your uterus, just cum on my cock dear." -He said breathlessly, already close to cumming inside you, well, he always cums inside you.

He also likes being blindfolded during sex, being tied up, having orgasms denied, and loves being called "my love" in addition to liking praise kink.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

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I still got a few rounds left in me

kinktober, day thirteen

a/n: ...i have such a thing for fighters, it's bad....

warnings: boxer!steve rogers x reader, smut, established relationship, domestic bliss, kissing, foreplay, bathtub sex

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

You felt like a little marshmallow floating atop a warm mug of hot chocolate as you laid there in the tub, staring out at the dark skyline. The melody of soft rain drizzling against the window lulled you even further as your hand lazily played with the bubbles foaming at the surface.

“Hey,” you suddenly heard, spinning your head around to spot your burly boyfriend gazing at your relaxed visage from the doorway, raindrop-painted gym clothes still hugging his form.

“Steve,” you gasped, spine straightening, “you’re home! I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yeah, well, I thought you would be asleep already, so I tried to be quiet.”

“In a bit, I just wanted to wash the day away first, you know?” you sighed, “fall back down to earth before I try and fall asleep…” Offering you a gentle nod, he then stepped further into the bathroom, a soft smile still fast on his lips as he began to peel his clothes off. You couldn’t help but giggly ask, “what are you doing?” as the fighter slowly revealed more and more of his rippling physique, his eyes staying locked with yours the entire time.

“Well, I was gonna take a shower,” his shorts hit the floor mere seconds before he planted his palms on either side of the tub, “but you’re making that bath look so good.”

As he lowered himself in, your giggle morphed into a laugh as the bubbles began to make a run for it, “you’re gonna flood the entire bathroom!”

“Then it’s a good thing we have something called towels,” fully submerged, he simply leaned in to kiss you.

Arms wrapping around his broad shoulders, the current scooped you a bit closer, your legs intuitively entangling up and over his thick thighs. As your hands drifted over his skin, your fingers paused and took time to dig into a few of the muscles on his upper back. Parting from the tender peck, you deepened your massage momentarily as you asked, “are you sore?”

With his own arms tangled around you, he murmured, “not really, I didn’t really go too hard today,” before he lifted you further up onto his lap, his broad palm firm on your back so that your chest pressed flush against his, making your soapy tits share their suds.

It took you approximately two seconds before you noticed the raging hard-on, poking you under the water, “oh my god…” you chuckled, tilting your chin back as you gazed at his smirk, “what are you trying to do, huh, champ?”

His hands slowly raked down your back before they found the curve of your ass, squeezing it in a way that shot directly to your aching clit, “like I said, I didn’t go too hard today, so I still got a few rounds left in me…”

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fluff-lover · 16 days ago

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Healing Touch | Chapter 2: Broken Hearts

Logan Howlet x fem!Reader

Story summary: You’re a new member of the X-Men. Your mutation allows you to heal other people: you can close any wound, and cure any sickness. You’re not a fighter at all, but you’re useful at the battle field when it comes to saving injured mutants.

The one thing you can’t heal? It’s a broken heart. Sadly, that’s exactly what Logan needs: in love with a woman who doesn't love him back, and only having pieces of a broken past, Logan needs all the help he can get. He’s too stubborn to ask, but you make it your mission to be there for him.

Masterlist

Being in love with someone who is in love with someone else is hard enough, but living in the same house? That's straight up masochism.

Jean made it clear, she would never leave Scott, and Logan knew better than to try and get between them. He loved her too much to cause her trouble anyway. He wanted her to be happy. But that didn’t make it any easier to watch them carry on a happy, healthy relationship. To wake up every morning to an empty bed, knowing the woman he loved was just a few doors away, in the arms of another man… it was too much sometimes, his only comfort being at the end of a bottle.

He knew that if he wanted to move on from Jean, he needed to leave the mansion. There was no way he would stop loving her if he kept seeing her everyday. But on the other hand he couldn’t leave, not now that he finally felt like home, not when he felt he owed his life to Charles and his cause. There were other people in his life he cared about. His Rouge, Hank, Ororo… you…

Leaving wasn’t an option.

You knew exactly what he was going through, because you felt the same way about him.

Falling in love with Logan was easy. He was handsome, strong, brave, he was kind to you and protective of the students. He kept training you to fight and was always ready to lend a hand whenever you needed something.

Some nights when he couldn’t fall asleep you would stay with him and you would watch tv or walk around the garden, maybe even go out for a drink. Most of the time you would sit on a bench in the garden and just enjoy the evening sky.

At the beginning he was very quiet and getting him to open up to you took time, but eventually you reached a point where you could stay up all night talking about anything and everything, as long as it wasn’t too personal. Soon you two formed a beautiful friendship. You wanted more, but Ororo warned you about his infatuation with Jean.

You didn’t know what hurt the most: watching him in love with someone else, or watching him get his heart broken.

If he gave you a chance you would love him unconditionally. That is if he even let himself be loved. He was so firmly convinced he didn’t deserve love, you doubted he would fully open up to someone. Even if Jean were to leave Scott for him, would Logan stay? Would he accept her love? Jean said it herself: the good guy sticks around.

Logan didn’t know how to love, or how to BE loved. Simple things like wrapping your arm around his as you walked together, or giving him a little gift felt like defusing a bomb. He didn’t know what to do with himself, he didn’t know how to act when he received any form of affection. It put him on edge.

One time he mentioned he lost his lighter, so you went out and got him a new one. It was such a silly little thing, yet it threw him off completely. He stared at the lighter that rested on his big palm as if it was a foreigner object. All while you watched him awkwardly.

“You don’t like it?” You asked nervously.

“I do.” He mumbled before clearing his throat. “Thanks.” Then he put it in his pocket and walked away, leaving you standing there confused.

Logan didn’t talk to you for three days after that. Not because he was mad at you, he just couldn’t remember the last time someone gifted him something and he didn’t know what to do. You were convinced he hated it, but you were far from right: you had no idea how much he actually appreciated it, loved it even. Every night when Logan stepped outside to a balcony to smoke a cigar, he would run his thumb across the engraving and think of you. The hopeful look in your eyes etched in his memory. You were such a sweet thing, he didn’t know why you bother spending time with him, let alone buy him a present.

You let him have his space, and by the fourth day he came by your room to ask you if you wanted a ride for your next trip to the hospital. The way your face lit up made Logan promise himself he would do better for you, that he would be a better friend because you deserved it.

And then shit hit the fan.

It was a Saturday night and most teachers were hanging out in the common area, talking and sharing snacks. You and Logan were sitting next to each other having a couple of beers and sharing a bowl of nachos, when Jean and Scott walked in, his arm wrapped around her waist.

“How was date night?” Ororo asked with a cheeky smile. Jean smiled widely and showed her hand, a beautiful ring resting on her finger.

“We’re engaged!” She announced while Scott smiled proudly. The room erupted in cheers.

“Congratulations!” “About time!” “You finally popped the question, Summers!” “You guys are so cute together!” There was no doubt Jean and Scott were the “IT” couple in the mansion. Everyone took turns to congratulate and hug the couple, yourself included. You were happy for them, you knew they loved each other very much and wished them a long, happy life together. But you also dreaded how this announcement would affect Logan.

Just as you predicted, he was hurt by it, and while everyone celebrated the couple, you saw him get up and leave the room in a hurry.

You shared a concerned look with Hank and Ororo. You knew what they were thinking: if anyone could comfort him, it was you.

When you walked out the room Logan was nowhere to be seen. The first place you checked was his room, but he either wasn’t there, or he was refusing to open the door. After pondering for a moment, you decided to check outside.

Logan sat on a bench. Your bench. The one you two would sit together whenever he had a nightmare, when he wanted a smoke, or simply be with you.

When you found him, he had his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, and your heart broke for him. You approached him quietly, but his voice made you stop.

“Go away.” He grumbled.

You sighed and stood there for a moment, debating whether you should leave or push your luck a little bit more.

“It’s a free country.” You finally said before sitting down next to him. Logan groaned and straightened on the bench. He knew he wasn’t getting rid of you: you were an annoyingly good friend.

Neither of you said anything for a moment. What could you possibly say? Instead you threw a leg over the bench, so you were fully facing him, and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Pulling him gently towards you, you pressed his side against your chest. Logan instantly leaned on you and rested his head on your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Logan.” You whispered, your cheek pressed against the back of his head. “I know what it feels like to be in love with someone who loves someone else.” You said, leaving out the part where he was the one causing you this pain.

Logan couldn’t remember the last time he was comforted like this. For the first time ever he didn’t fight it. His strong front cracked and he let himself melt against you, too tired and weary to keep fighting his feelings.

“Tell me what I can do to help.” You whispered and felt Logan shake his head against your shoulder.

“This. Just this.” He replied in a low, gravelly voice.

You sat there like this for a while in complete silence, forgotten to the rest of the world, the moon being your only witness. Your hand rubbed soothing circles on Logan’s back, and if it wasn’t because you were so worried about him you would’ve tried to soak in the feeling of him in your arms.

“You know… The one thing I wish I could heal the most is the one thing my powers can’t heal.” You pulled back and Logan straightened again, this time looking back at you.

“What’s that?” He asked.

You placed your hand on his cheek lovingly and smiled sadly.

“A broken heart.” You whispered.

Logan closed his eyes and sighed. He knew that if there was any way you could take his pain away, you would do it. You were so selfless, always wanting to help people around you.

“You really are an angel, aren’t you? Is there any time of the day you’re not ridiculously kind?” He joked.

“I see you still have your sense of humor, that’s good.” You joked back. “You gonna be okay?”

Logan nodded his head.

“I’ll live.” He answered. “Could use a drink, tho.”

“Alright, let’s go!” You said before getting up from the bench and offering him your hand.

“Where are we going?” He asked, confused.

“To get you a drink and get me some ice cream.” You replied with a wide smile.

Logan chuckled and shook his head.

“Let’s go get you that ice cream then, Angel.” He said as he took your hand and stood up.

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #logan x reader #wolverine #wolverine x fem!reader #wolverine x female reader #logan howlett x y/n #james logan howlett x reader #Healing touch

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504py · 8 months ago

Text

Scalding-Hot Steel - Knight!Leon Kennedy/Reader

He finally lets you try on his armor.

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT!!! 😭😭😭😭🙏🙏 i got caught in a bit of a slump, but i hope this can make up for it, and that this was worth the wait!! the chapter after this might be the finale, so i may take even longer to get to it. nonetheless, thank you to everyone who's been reading till now, and thank you all for 600 followers!!!

Historical inaccuracies, I suck at old-timey speak, reader referred to as "my lady" but no other gendered terms or descriptors besides that, no use of Y/N, Leon is a total puppy, mutual pining.

1, 2, 3

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You're unsure what it was, but following that interaction at the library, you and Leon have grown closer.

This upgrade in your relationship has made you be able to relax more in his presence, now that you see him as more friend than foe. Well, to call him a foe was a gargantuan exaggeration, but you did find him intimidating. You still do sometimes.

Even if you've backed off and retired your old obsessive habit of being way too observant about every single little detail about Leon, you can't help but still notice how it seems like your roles have been swapped.

Leon has begun to follow you around like a dog, to put it simply.

You swear it's not just you fixating on him, you really have started seeing him around much more often. He's started waiting by your door to greet you a good morning with a small smile, before heading to the courtyard. During lunchtime, he's begun to engage in smalltalk with you, talking about mundane things like the weather, or your schedule for the day. He's especially chatty if he learns he's going to be part of it. At night, when his usual routine would be to simply see you off at your bedroom door and say goodnight, now he sits by your bedside and talks about anything 'till it lulls you to sleep. He'd be mortified if you knew how long he stayed after you've dozed off.

Leon has begun studying you, in return. He likes to think that he's observant, but that usually only applies to combat, or if he's been trained beforehand on the matter. With people, he's never really had much luck reading them, unless it's too obvious for it to even be called "observing."

Leon admires that about you, how keen your eyes always are. He wonders if you're as drawn into his quirks as he is with yours. If you were, he envies your ability to drink in information so tactfully. If the devil were in the details– in your details, Leon would love to become a sinner.

His attempts in learning more about you were painfully amateurish. Even if Leon were a great tutor, a great protector, a great fighter, he tends to be terrible at holding conversation.

"My lady–"

"I told you to stop calling me that." You sigh and roll your eyes playfully.

"Sorry." He huffs your name bashfully, drawing closer towards you. You look up at him, and he drinks in the sight before you're squinting slightly at the rays of sun attacking you from behind his head.

"Please step into the shade, milady." He insists, holding his hand out for you to place yours on, before leading you underneath a large tree.

"There you are again, Sir Leon." You laugh, resting your back against the smooth bark of the tree.

"Hey, I asked you to forgo the titles as well." He muses, noticing you were still straining your eyes slightly, so he steps in front of the sun. It makes your face relax, and once again, he realizes keeping you happy and protecting you brings him fulfillment like no other.

"Just doing the same as you are, Sir Leon, since you won't drop mine." Chuckling, you sit down on the plush grass and wait for him to follow.

He smiles and breathes out a laugh, setting down the picnic basket in front of you. Leon wants to sit beside you, but then his back wouldn't be there to shield you from the sun. He sits where he is.

"Alright, I'm sorry." He says, almost jokingly. Saying your name out loud makes him feel shy, like saying the name of a god. It feels almost forbidden to be molded by his tongue, but you always invite him to say it, and the intimacy makes his heart race every single time he dares to. He mumbles it quietly again, getting a high from it.

You look beautiful. He thought that from the day he first met you, but the closer you two have gotten, the more and more he finds himself thinking that, and even more does it make his heart ache in his chest. In the shade under this tree, windy summer day illuminating the soft curves of your face so enchantingly, Leon can't help but look like a bit of an idiot drinking the sight in.

"Are you feeling hot?"

His eyes look at your lips first, ears registering your voice second. He closes his mouth, realizing it's been hanging slightly agape.

"I, uh, no– no, I'm feeling alright, my–"

You tilt your head down, and send him a playful warning glare. He stops in his tracks and looks down for a second, smiling breathily.

"I'm alright."

"Really? Your head tilts to the right this time, and Leon's heart skips a beat at how adorable he finds the gesture. "That armor you're wearing looks pretty hot. Can't you take it off?"

"It's only chainmail." He reassures, taking off his helmet and combing a hand through his flattened hair, "The helmet is a little troublesome, though."

You chirp, "I can imagine." before you open up the picnic basket in front of you and start rummaging through it.

Leon watches you munch on some biscuits for a bit, before his eyes flit back to the helmet by his side. "...Some time ago, you said you had wanted to try on my armor."

He says this mid-chew, so you hurry to get your food down so you can respond, "Oh, you remembered?" You wipe away a few crumbs from your lip, Leon finds the act charming, and it makes him smile softly. You continue, "Mm, yes, I did. Why bring it up?"

"Well," Leon holds up his helmet, "Would you like to try it on now?"

The way your eyes light up can't help but force a boyish, giddy grin on Leon's face. It feels strange and his cheeks feel weird, he can't really remember the last time he's smiled this hard. It does scare him a little, how foreign it is, but the feeling is so, so welcomed.

"Of course! Are you joking?" You put the snacks in your hands away, and move the basket to the side so you can inch closer to Leon. The feeling of your legs touching make butterflies take flight in his stomach.

"I-I'm not– I–" He's sputtering and he finds his brain struggling to function at being so flustered.

"Calm down, Leon." You laugh heartily. He wonders if you know the effect you have on him, but with how darn observant you are, he's sure that you're well aware what you do to him. It makes his cheeks burn red and glare at you with a kittenish frown. He wishes he could be more suave about his feelings towards you.

"I will once you stop making me so flustered." Leon huffs, hoping that wasn't too bold of a thing to say. His cheeks burn deeper. His eyebrows lower at your surprised look.

"Do I now?"

"W-Well– See, you're doing it again!" Leon groans, letting go of his helmet to hide his flushed face in his broad hands and whine. His ears turn red at the sound of your hearty laugh.

"Well, it's only fair that I do it to you too."

"Too?"

Your face warms, realizing what you've revealed. Leon grins, elated at the mere implication that he makes you feel the same way.

"Y-You've noticed, haven't you? In the library, you asked why I felt so uncomfortable around you."

"You didn't exactly answer... I thought it was because you disliked me."

"...Now you know that I clearly don't. We get along rather well, don't we?"

He's beaming at you, and it's not just the sun shining on him, it looks like he's literally glowing with serenity and love.

"We do, my lady."

"Leon!" You interject him calling you by your formal title.

He can't seem to let the title go, because in his mind, it's more of a pet name than a title. A term of endearment. Leon clings to the "my" part of the title, he liked the tiniest hint that you could be his. My lady, my lover, my sweetheart, mine.

Leon giggles, and he pauses for a moment after, realizing he can't remember the last time he's let out such a noise. He gazes upon you in awe, amazed at how you were able to bring out this side of him.

"What is it?"

Leon blinks, getting drawn out of his haze and shaking his head dismissively. He keeps his soft gaze on you, though.

The pads of his fingers rest on his helmet, feeling the ridges of it. Maybe it was too rough for someone he deemed as delicate as you. His eyes lower and rest on the piece of armor, noting how it's covered in scratches and dents, how it isn't so shiny as he'd like for it to be. It washed over him like a small wave of shame, thinking it not worthy for someone of your standing to don. Not even socially, but the standing that you held within his mind and his heart. Leon never thought he'd be insecure over such a trivial thing.

"So... Can I try it on, my good Sir?"

Leon lets out a little snort at what you call him, freezing and making an embarrassed face at the undignified noise, but then he he sees how happy it makes you– perhaps how happy he himself makes you, and he feels at ease.

"Yes, of course, Your Royal Highness."

You playfully slap his bicep at the absurd title. "I am not royalty!"

"You are to me." He mutters as he adjusts his sitting position, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

He's kneeling in front of you, being mindful of your hair or anything on your clothing the helmet could snag on, gently lowering it before the hard metal rests on the top of your skull.

Leon sits back down, and can't help a cheesy, tight-lipped smile when he sees how awkwardly it fits you. It's crooked, and it simply is too rugged in contrast to your usual attire and demeanor.

"...How is it?"

"Wow, I can barely see. This is amazing!" Your hands rest on the sides of the helmet to try and stabilize it, yet it still tips over off balance after adjusting. Leon lets out a snort, and this time, he's only half-embarrassed.

"How do you fight in this? I can't see anything."

Leon wordlessly pulls the visor up. His heart pounds at the sight of your flushed face and messy hair.

"Ohh. What if an arrow lands in my face, though?"

"I can assure you, you won't be getting into that sort of situation anytime soon."

"You seem very sure of yourself, Leon."

"Of course, it's my duty to protect you."

"...Do you enjoy it?"

"What? Protecting you?"

You nod, "Yes."

"I look forward to it every day."

The two of you share a wide smile, beaming at the intimacy of this interaction, and you two have never felt closer. I want to kiss you, is all Leon can think about.

Right as he was mindlessly leaning in, you let out a small laugh for whatever reason, and Leon is forever grateful that you do, because it snaps him out of his trance, and he feels so stupid for trying to make a move on you.

"That's good. I don't think armor suits me very much anyways." You clumsily take his helmet off of your head, and rest it by your hip.

"I'm glad to have you protecting me, Leon. I'm so happy to have you by my side every day, not even as a knight, but as a companion." You say this so demurely, looking down at your lap with a cherubic expression on your face that has his heart pounding in his strong chest.

Then, you just had to look up at him, and meet his lovestruck stare, and maybe he's gone crazy from how flustered he's been all day, but he swears he can see the same look in your eyes.

Leon throws out whatever he was last thinking straight out the window, encases your wrists in his hands, and kisses you.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

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urdreamydoodles · 3 months ago

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X-Men x Reader x Reader's Dog

How they handle your relationship with your dog

The return of Mr. Pickles! Eight famous X-men—interact with both you, their partner, and your small, not-so-bright dog, Mr. Pickles.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Scott Summers, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Ororo Munroe, Jean Grey, Bobby Drake & Hank McCoy

Logan (Wolverine):

- At first, Logan tries to act like Mr. Pickles is just a nuisance, but deep down, he softens over time, despite his gruff exterior. He often complains about the dog taking up his side of the bed or chewing on his boots, but you’ve caught him scratching behind Mr. Pickles’ ears when he thinks you’re not looking.

- Logan is fiercely protective of you, and surprisingly, that extends to Mr. Pickles. The little dog may not be much of a fighter, but if anyone messes with him, Logan’s claws come out faster than they can blink. It’s as if he’s adopted Mr. Pickles as part of your pack.

- Despite pretending he doesn’t care, Logan has saved Mr. Pickles from various ridiculous situations—like getting stuck under the couch or chasing squirrels out into traffic. He’ll grumble, “Damn dog’s more trouble than he’s worth,” but the affection in his voice gives him away.

Scott Summers (Cyclops):

- Scott takes Mr. Pickles very seriously—possibly too seriously. He’ll come home from missions and ask, “How’s the dog?” like Mr. Pickles is a critical member of the team. He’s even tried to train Mr. Pickles on basic commands like “stay” and “come,” though the results are… mixed.

- He appreciates how happy Mr. Pickles makes you, so he’ll go the extra mile to include the dog in your daily lives. He’s tried setting a strict feeding schedule, making sure Mr. Pickles gets enough exercise, and even reading up on dog nutrition. But when Mr. Pickles inevitably gets into trouble, Scott sighs and takes it all in stride.

- Scott’s a bit more traditional, so he sometimes doesn’t quite get why you treat Mr. Pickles like a child. However, he’ll indulge you, helping pick out little outfits for Mr. Pickles and occasionally taking him on walks when you’re busy. Though he won’t admit it, he’s grown attached to the tiny dog, even if it’s not something he’ll openly discuss with the other X-Men.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit):

- Remy finds Mr. Pickles absolutely hilarious. He’s charmed by how ridiculously small and clueless the dog is, often playfully teasing Mr. Pickles but in a good-natured way. He loves calling the dog “Petit Cornichon” (Little Pickle) in his thick Cajun accent, laughing every time Mr. Pickles stumbles into something.

- Unlike Scott, Remy has no problem treating Mr. Pickles like your child. He’ll humor you completely, offering to babysit whenever you need, and he’s the type to sneak Mr. Pickles little treats when you’re not looking. The two of them have formed an odd friendship, with Mr. Pickles following Remy around despite his jokes.

- Remy uses Mr. Pickles as a tool for romance, often bringing the dog into moments where he tries to charm you. He’ll set up cute dates for you with Mr. Pickles in tow, and there’s no shortage of times where you’ve found him holding the dog while dramatically proclaiming, “Cher, I would protect this lil’ fluff as fiercely as I protect you.”

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler):

- Kurt adores Mr. Pickles, even if the dog doesn’t quite understand how to react to his teleportation skills. He’s very gentle and sweet with the dog, often calling him “Kleiner Hund” (little dog) and being patient whenever Mr. Pickles gets confused.

- Kurt is used to people treating him differently because of his appearance, so he’s extra compassionate toward Mr. Pickles, who sometimes gets lost in his own little world. He’ll often try to engage Mr. Pickles in games or tricks, even if the dog just ends up looking confused.

- As your partner, Kurt loves how much you dote on Mr. Pickles and supports your attachment wholeheartedly. He’s the type to pray for the dog’s health during quiet moments and genuinely treats Mr. Pickles like a small blessing in both of your lives. Sometimes, Kurt even takes Mr. Pickles on little teleportation adventures, ensuring the dog’s well-being in a way only he could.

Ororo Munroe (Storm):

- Ororo finds Mr. Pickles absolutely endearing, though she initially worries about such a small dog in a world of superpowers and chaos. She uses her abilities to protect him from the weather, ensuring that he never gets caught in a storm or drenched by rain. Mr. Pickles might not understand why it never rains on him, but Ororo quietly smiles every time.

- She treats your relationship with Mr. Pickles with grace and understanding, recognizing how much joy he brings into your life. Ororo will often sit with Mr. Pickles on her lap while you’re relaxing together, gently stroking his fur as if he were a delicate creature of nature.

- Mr. Pickles, unsurprisingly, adores Ororo. Despite his limited intelligence, he follows her around like a little shadow. Ororo sometimes teases you, saying, “It seems I have another loyal follower,” while lifting the tiny dog into her arms with a soft laugh.

Jean Grey:

- Jean thinks Mr. Pickles is cute but also amusingly oblivious. She’s used to minds being complex and full of emotions, but Mr. Pickles’ thoughts are simple—mostly consisting of food, naps, and chasing after random things. She can’t help but smile every time she picks up on his scattered little thoughts.

- She’s supportive of your attachment to Mr. Pickles and thinks it’s sweet that you treat him like your child. Sometimes, she’ll help you by telepathically calming the dog when he’s overly excited or confused. She finds it adorable how deeply you care for him and appreciates how he adds a lighthearted dynamic to your relationship.

- Occasionally, Jean will make Mr. Pickles do something funny, like fetch you a flower or bark on command, using her telekinesis. You’ll burst out laughing when you realize she’s behind it, and Jean will simply shrug with a knowing smile, saying, “I thought he needed a little guidance.”

Bobby Drake (Iceman):

- Bobby thinks Mr. Pickles is absolutely hilarious. He’s constantly cracking jokes about how Mr. Pickles looks like a walking snowball, and the dog’s obliviousness only adds fuel to Bobby’s comedic fire. “How does a dog with no brain cells survive in this world?” he’ll laugh as Mr. Pickles runs into a wall.

- Despite the teasing, Bobby has a soft spot for Mr. Pickles. He’s made tiny ice toys for the dog to play with and has even built a little ice fort for him to run around in. Bobby’s playful nature means he’s always finding new ways to entertain both you and the dog, keeping the mood light and fun.

- Bobby likes to use Mr. Pickles as an icebreaker (pun intended) in your relationship. Whether it’s suggesting a “doggy playdate” or bringing Mr. Pickles to an impromptu snowball fight, Bobby manages to incorporate the dog into every moment, making your bond with him even more entertaining.

Hank McCoy (Beast):

- Hank is incredibly curious about Mr. Pickles. He’s fascinated by the dog’s behaviors, even if Mr. Pickles doesn’t seem to have the sharpest instincts. Hank might overanalyze Mr. Pickles’ every move, muttering things like, “It’s truly remarkable how such a small brain can direct such complex behaviors.”

- While Hank is used to more intellectual pursuits, he indulges you when it comes to your love for Mr. Pickles. He’ll read up on dog care, create homemade nutritious treats, and even design little gadgets to keep the dog entertained when you’re away. He approaches it scientifically but with genuine affection, wanting the best for your “child.”

- Hank secretly enjoys Mr. Pickles’ company. He often finds himself absentmindedly petting the dog while reading a book or working on an experiment, the small creature bringing a sense of calm to Hank’s otherwise busy mind. You’ll occasionally catch Hank trying to teach Mr. Pickles new tricks, though the results are questionable at best.

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3rizu · 1 month ago

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Lovely Weapon

Contents: Kwon Jae-Sung x Reader - TW!Death - TW!Blood - Pet names(Sweet girl) - Doomed lovers - ooc

Word Count: 1,242

A/N: There’s one good and one bad ending.

Kwon had noticed you when he first started taking karate, though this was because he saw how close you and Sensei Kim were. He thought because of this that you were a favorite student of hers, he was a little bit right but not so much. But the thing was you were her child though you weren’t necessarily a planned child, luckily your mother didn’t treat you any differently because of it. To no one's surprise, you started taking karate which was led by your mother Sensei Kim, who you called her during training.

Ever since that day, Kwon had neutral feelings over you, this slowly changed when he kept seeing you while you were training. Kwon was like a deer stuck in headlights every time you were training or sparring with the others. Over time Kwon got closer to you much to your mother’s dismay, she knew he was a troublemaker and didn't want that type of influence affecting her daughter.

Did that happen to stop Kwon? Not one bit Kwon only tried harder to get closer to you but you were always so engrossed in training, sparring, or studying. He finally happened to get close to you, only a little bit. Kwon soon became a close friend of yours and he couldn't help but gloat about how he had Sensei Kim's daughter as his friend. Kwon started liking you even more than previously, what had been a tiny crush became someone he wanted to kiss or hold. He was falling hard for you and everyone started noticing it, how Kwon was like a puppy when you were near, especially those lovesick eyes he gave you.

When Kwon had come over to your house, only because he had claimed that he needed “help” with some training (he just wanted to be with you). He had noticed a couple of plushies on your bed, and he didn’t expect you to be a girl who was still sleeping with plushies, (he immediately went to go buy you a plushie after he had left) Kwon had bought you a cat plushie it was a bit big but you didn’t mind and thanked him, so every night you’d now fall asleep with the plushie in your arms.

So slowly Kwon got closer to you and he knew if he didn't say something soon those idiots from karate would. However, Kwon’s plan was interrupted when Sensei Kreese came and told him to prove that was the best fighter in the class and steal Yoon’s spot. It was even worse after Tory came and stole your spot as captain in the Sekai Taikai did you mind? Yes but at least you were still chosen as part of the team going.

Your mother also warmed up to Kwon, she noticed that he wasn't as bad as before now that he was spending time with you. At the tournament, after he had won the rooms from Robby, he immediately went to you and told you about his win.

“Hey! Look what I got!” Kwon yelled to you as you were walking around.

“Kwon? What happened?” You asked him wondering why he seemed so happy.

“Guess what” Kwon asked with a smug look on his face and boy you knew he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

“What did you do, Kwon.” You asked, already getting a bit upset, fearing he’d done something horrible.

“I challenged Miyagi-Do and the prize was some rooms and I won. Like it was so easy.” He said trying to seem confident though he was nervous.

“Kwon, why are you doing this? Just leave them alone, where it matters most is on the mat. You were secretly a bit happy he had challenged them and won.

“But I wanted to ask uhm do you wanna share the room? So you know you don’t have to share with anyone else but me?” He asked, the fact he was nervous became more obvious but you are oblivious to that.

“Yeah, but I’m still upset about your little challenge.”

You were happy to have a bed to yourself even if Kwon was staying in the bedroom with you. Kwon on the other hand was delighted that you said yes to his offer.

Did Kwon get any sleep that night? The answer was barely because he was staring at the peaceful expression you had on while you slept. Kwon knew that he'd have to tell you about his feelings for you, though he didn't want to. He was going to tell you after Cobra Kai won the Sekai Taikai…

Happy Ending

It was almost the end of the Sekai Taikai and fortunately for Cobra Kai, they won. Kwon was satisfied with the results and couldn't help but immediately run to you after his win and he whisked you away somewhere private.

“I need to tell you something.” He said, his palms were all sweaty and his heart was pounding.

“Oh, what is it? You did something you weren’t supposed to before your match?” You asked, you knew Kwon and you wanted to see if he’d say yes.

“No, it’s not that. I didn’t do anything wrong before the match.” He said to you, he was completely honest about his answer.

“Okay, then what is it?” You asked, now curious about what he needed to tell you.

“I like you and I have for a while. Do you feel the same?” He asked, his heart was pounding and he was sure you could hear it with how silent you both were at the moment.

“Kwon, I’m so surprised you admitted it first, you realize I was going to tell you tonight?” You said to him, you were giggling and pleased that he did it first because you were so scared he didn't like you at all.

“This is so unfair, you like me too?” Kwon seemed a bit pissed but he wasn't.

“Yeah, I do.” You kissed his cheek and ruffled his always messy hair.

He looked away from your face knowing he couldn't look at you or else his knees would buckle from your looks alone.

“I'm so glad we won.” You said, your arms wrapping around him as you pulled him into your embrace, hugging him.

“Me too. I like you a lot, sweet girl.” For you, Kwon was all yours to keep.

Bad Endjng

You looked around as every single Dojo was fighting with each other. You were fighting and helping Kwon as much as you could but you saw him get hurt by Axel. Some other girl had dragged you away to fight. You looked as he grabbed onto the eunjando from the floor, you knew he was going to attack Axel but at the moment you were fighting another girl and couldn't get to him in time.

You heard the bloodcurdling scream Kwon let out, and you prayed to any higher being that existed that when Sensei Daniel turned him he'd be okay. You were so wrong. Blood was pooling at the side of Kwon, and once he was turned onto his back the eunjangdo was there in his chest. You stood there frozen as tears fell down your cheeks.

Something you had been planning to do was tell Kwon you liked him. Though, now you would never be able to tell him you had liked him. After all, you had endured with him, this was surely not how he died, right?

A/N: I am not writing any smut bc I don't know Kwon age and also bc I'm not comfortable writing smut for this character

#kwon jae sung #kwon jae-sung x reader #kwon x reader #CK #Cobra Kai #3rizuwrites #LWONE-SHOT

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momoswifee · 4 months ago

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Rising

Pairing: Mina x fem!reader

Synopsis: After receiving the call from the hospital, Mina rushes to you. Once she's there she finds you unconscious. You had been hit by a drunk driver and were now in a coma.

Warnings: Drink-driving, car accidents, the reader is in a coma, trying to go for angst (let's hope it is indeed angst), death, death talks, overthinking, grief, the start of isolation (?) not sure, maybe abandonment issues.

A/n: this was actually hard for me to write, I never actually wrote angst so this is a first. Every time I tried to write angst it was always really small so this was a change! I'm sorry for any grammar/vocab mistakes, and if you have any notes or criticism I have my inbox open :)

w/c: 3183

pt1 - pt2 - pt3

Mina had never been interested in taking a part in any horror movie projects, she thought herself a versatile actress of course, but the opportunity had never arrived and if she was being honest, she was grateful for that as many would consider her a scared cat. She never thought, however, that her life would become one.

She doesn’t really remember what happened after she got to the hospital, one moment she was at Sana’s house gushing about the ring she had found, and the other she was rushing through the hospital doors looking for you. All she remembers is being guided to a waiting room and the excruciating time she had to wait to finally get the news you had been hit by a drunk driver.

Since then, she hadn’t left your side, she had barely eaten or slept. She couldn’t bring herself to leave your side, even in sleep.

You were supposedly well for the time being, you had undergone surgery and the doctor had called you a “fighter”, but due to the brain haemorrhage you had sustained because of a hit to the head during the accident, you were now in a coma.

“Here, you need to eat,” Jihyo said, putting one of the cafeteria sandwiches in front of her. Ever since she had been released, she had been stopping by as much as she could, almost always with Jeongyeon because of her new impairment. “How’s she doing?”

“Same as always…” She sighs. “How’s your arm?”

“Eh, I’ll be alright, doctor’s said it’ll heal up fine.” Jihyo sits next to her, showing off her cast. “Any updates?”

The doctors had been reassuring, telling her that there were positive possible outcomes and that you were responding well to treatment. “Well they have been positive, they said that she’s reacting well, but that we should be aware that there are other outcomes that could happen.”

As if on cue, one of your doctors got into the room. “Good morning, how are we doing today?” She says, calmly, as she goes over to you to check your vitals. “Her vitals are stable, everything seems to be just as it was yesterday.” She takes off her glasses, looking straight at Mina. “It has been two weeks, there’s little we can do now except wait. You should go home, take a break”

She couldn’t believe it had been two weeks already, it felt like it was just yesterday.

“I can stay until you get back, I’m sure her parents are on their way as well.” Jihyo reassures Mina, encouraging her to go home and take care of herself.

She saw a familiar face in the hallway, she couldn’t decide if she wanted to run away or run to him, scream that he had taken everything from her, chastise him for his reckless behaviour, tell him that because of his disgusting vice, he had put such a beautiful life in danger, he had put the love of her life in a coma.

She ran.

She ran to her car, she couldn’t breathe.

Who was she kidding, she couldn’t face him, she could barely face your parents, your friends, her friends. This was an overreaction, your doctors were optimistic, and despite the circumstances, she didn’t have to worry about you leaving her just yet. You had promised her you wouldn’t.

She was afraid, she felt like she couldn’t breathe half of the time. The noise inside the hospital didn’t help, doors swinging open, machines beeping, doctors walking in at any time inside every room. She didn’t even have time to let the fear set in, to let it marinade and let her think and rationalize it. She was also afraid to do that as well, because she didn’t want to believe that she had any reason to feel that immense fear.

❂

After her first night at the hospital, the only person Mina wanted to talk to was her older cousin. She remembers how she was always around Momo when they were both children and how she protected her from other kids. She felt like she needed that protection then, she needed her older cousin with her. So Momo, after Mina had called her, quickly moved into your shared house. She would be there to take care of Otis, go to the hospital every day to make sure Mina was taking care of herself, take care of the house, and just be there for Mina.

“...yes mom I’ve slept, I’m taking Otis for a walk now, Momo had to go to the city today, so I’m taking him to Jeongyeon.” She said as she tried to get Otis to stop running around, trying to put on his leash so that they could finally go on a walk and as soon as she’s out the door, she felt like she could breathe again with Otis excitedly walking alongside her. She couldn’t help but smile at his excitement, she felt like she should’ve done better by him, be more present, but you needed her.

As she was walking down the road, she could feel the sense of dread rush through her. She was going to face Jeongyeon. How could she go to her house and pretend everything was fine? The idea of going there and facing one of the most important people in your life almost made her sick. You were unconscious in a bed and she was about to go meet your best friend.

She didn’t know what to do, she was helpless. As soon as she got the news she ran to you, she stood by you, she couldn’t sleep or eat, she just wanted to make sure you were ok, but she also knew that your health and your stability weren’t something that was granted.

Mina had never seen your father cry. He was someone who had always tried to bring joy into every situation. He was a constant in your family, the rock. Everyone always knew they could count on him to make everything better. You took after him a lot. She couldn’t recognize him now, it broke her heart to see him like this. He would sit by your side, gently holding your hand with his shaky one to his mouth, kissing it, while whispering sweet nothing's, trying to soothe you while trying his best not to cry or move too suddenly in a way it could somehow hurt you. During that moment, all she could think about was how unfair life was. You were in a coma, Jihyo had a broken arm, but the drunk driver who had caused all of this had got off with little scratches and a sore body from the impact.

“Your mom is going to be ok you know that right?” Mina whispers to the dog as she sits next to him, letting him rest a little. She knows he can’t understand her, but he looks at her and rests his head on her thigh, and for a second, Mina lets herself believe that he did understand her and is hoping as well for your swift recovery.

She tried to shake those thoughts off for a moment, watching as the trees surrounding her cast a dark shadow over them, despite not having much light, the quiet and the darker ambiance gave her peace of mind, she was at ease.

“Hey buddy!” Otis runs towards Jeongyeon as soon as he lays his eyes on her. “Who’s excited to have a sleepover, uh?”

“Thank you for looking after him,” Mina says, not knowing exactly what to do as she watched the older girl kneel to pet Otis.

“Yeah, of course,” She reassures. “How is she doing? Any progress?”

They go over to the steps on the porch, letting Otis explore Jeongyeon’s backyard. “She’s fragile, you know? Right now, the doctors say she’s stabilizing and that they’re optimistic, but there’s still a long road.”

“That’s good, I’ll go over tomorrow, I’ll take Jihyo.” They both get silent. They don’t know what to say to each other exactly. “She’ll pull through”, “She’s strong!”, “Everything will turn out fine!” were useless for them, it didn’t feel right to utter those words to each other, so they sat in silence.

“Are you ok?”

She wasn’t. She was everything but. She wanted to scream. She wanted you to wake up. Every time she had to wake you up was like torture to her, the idea of disrupting your sleep wasn’t something she liked, so if she really had to wake you up, she would do it in the most gentle way she could. Right now, all she wanted was for you to wake up, she didn’t particularly care about the how.

After she left, she no longer had Otis to occupy her mind, all she had was the sounds of the bird above her and her bustling thoughts. She wanted to block them out but once she got to her car, to go back to you, the silence became deafening, she was finally alone with the fearful thoughts about you.

Thankfully, as she thought when she went to pick it up, her phone rang loudly through the car, cutting the silence

“Mina speaking.” She clears her throat, getting rid of the lump that was starting to form as she thought about possible outcomes.

“Miss Myoui, Miss L/n has suffered a seizure and is now on the operating block, You should come as soon as possible.”

❂

The doctors had told them they should notify anyone important, should bring relatives, important people in your life to the hospital. There was nothing they could do.They had discussed all the possibilities, what to do with your body, what were your choices, what would you had done if you were awake. Everything past that was a blur to Mina. She didn’t even listen to everything the doctor had said about organ donation, it was unbearable, and she unfairly let that information fall onto your parent's shoulder for the time being.

She sat by your side, like so many other nights. How did it come to this? She didn’t know what to feel, what to say, so she did what she had done since your first day there, she sat by your side, held your hand, and hoped for you to wake up.

“Mina?”

She couldn’t move. It had been decided. Not by her choice, she could barely move. They had found a document you had drafted that specified your wishes. Neither she nor your parents could or would oppose your choice.

Your Dad gently places his hands on Mina's shoulder, but she, startled, shakes it off, scared he would take her away from you so quickly.

“Mina...”

“Just...,” she starts, not sure of what to say. "I just need to hold her" she finally lets out in a broken whisper. “Please.”

She is left alone with you and finds herself getting up and laying her head on your chest, as gently as she can as not to hurt you, just wanting to hear your heartbeat instead of the constant beeping to her left. She knows this isn't what you would've wanted. You would've wanted her last memory of her touching you to be of your soft mornings, not of your stiff limbs. You wouldn't have wanted her last image of you to be of your body lying motionless on a hospital bed. But she still feels the need to go over to you, to trace mindless shapes on your arms, to kiss your hands, to hold you one last time. She wants to keep you close but can't bear to look at your face, knowing that if she does, everything will become real. So she keeps her hand interlocked with yours. Her ear, not touching but near enough to your chest for her to hear your faint heartbeat.

Finally, her legs start to give out, she feels like the ground had been swept from beneath her. She sits and takes your hands in hers. Without thinking, she looks to her left and is faced with your closed eyes. You looked so peaceful. Tears start to run down her face, hitting your clothes.

"I'm sorry"

You're still motionless in your bed.

She brings your hand to her lips and gently kisses your knuckles, just as she usually did in the mornings when she had to wake you up.

"Please" she tries. Mina's face screws up as she tries to take in a breath. "You promised you would always come back" she whimpers into your hand. "Please"

She knew this was for the better. You weren’t able to do anything. You couldn’t breathe on your own, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t feel. You wanted this to be your final act of kindness.

"Mina," Your mother says, laying her hand on her shoulder.

"No" She says, her voice coming out muffled by your hand.

"The doctors needs to take her." she tries, as gently as she possibly can, trying to get her to let go.

"I can take her there" she weekly says, afraid of the thought of letting you go. "She likes it when I hold her hand, I can't let go."

"I-" she tries, a sob threatening to come out, your father silently crying at the scene in front of him.

"She can hold her hand until we get there." A voice suddenly says. Another day, Mina would've turned and looked to see who it was. But right now, she couldn't tear her eyes away from you.

"You can hold her hand while we bring her in, ok?" the gentle voice tells her as it’s owner proceeds with others to ready your body for transportation.

Mina gets up, her hand still clutching yours. When she almost falls to her knees, knees buckling, they hold her up.

She walks with you the whole way until she is stopped.

"They need to take her now ok?" Your mom tries, her hand gently laying on her arm.

Mina looks up from you for the first time. She looks at everyone, confused, like she couldn't understand what she had said, not knowing how to answer back. A hand is held out for her, hoping for Mina to take it so that they can take your body away.

"It's ok." she says once she feels Mina's hand in hers. She pulls Mina in slowly, her arms wrapping around her frame.

She watches you leave.

Momo went to Mina as soon as she heard what had happened. When she got there, who she saw wasn’t the grown and confident woman she had watched her cousin become. It was the little girl who used to cling to her arm when they went to the playground, too afraid to be on her own in an unknown world. The look of confusion on her face when they had told her they had to take your body and separate them made her sick. She looked like a helpless child. She guides Mina to the car, she’s not saying anything. She has a dazed look in her eyes. She drives her home in silence.

As soon as she’s inside the bedroom, Mina seems to notice that she had been holding a bag. She opens it and inside she finds your rings and your glasses. The rim was broken. She wipes off the dust that had been collecting on the lens, folds them, and places them on your bedside table. She lays down and holds onto your pillow, quickly falling asleep.

❂

“It was a lovely speech, we’re so sorry for your loss.”

Mina didn’t know how much longer she could stand there and hearing sorry’s from everyone you had ever known. While giving the speech, she didn’t feel like herself, there was this feeling of being watched by herself as if she was outside her own body. During the speech she felt the words run out of her mouth, she doesn’t remember writing them down, she doesn’t remember thinking about them, it all just spilled out. During the ceremony, she could feel Jihyo’s eyes burn into her, she hadn’t had the courage to face her, face any of your family and friends. She couldn’t face anything that was slightly related to you, even being in the same room as Otis was painful enough, being in the house you both had shared was a nightmare. That had a quick solution, however, she had moved back into her old apartment.

“Mina,” She couldn’t move. She knew she would have to face them eventually, but she thought, foolishly, that, maybe, some calls here and there would suffice. “Thank you for your words.”

She nods. She can’t bear to face them. “It’s nothing. She deserved more.”

“We would love to have you over,” Your father starts, slowly, knowing that Mina might not be ready as for now. “Sometimes talking helps, that’s what I’ve been told.” As soon as she met his eyes, she felt like her knees were about to give out from underneath her, she quickly grabbed onto Momo, not wanting to appear weak. His eyes were just like yours, even had the same smile lines around them, the same mole at the corner of your left eye.

“We should.” She says, trying to convince herself that she would really accept and go to his house, to have a warm meal, and talk about you, about how much of a gift you were, about how you were taken away from them too soon.

Just thinking about all that made her sick.

She was grateful for Momo, she didn’t make small talk, and she didn’t hold it against her when she made no effort to talk or interact.

After finally arriving home, she went straight to the shower, she wanted out of those clothes, they felt suffocating. As soon as the water hit her shoulders, she could feel herself decompress. The warm water running down her face, down her body, was all she needed.

Once out of the shower, she searched for something to wear, it had been getting colder. Rummaging through the clothes proved to not be the best idea, she found your university hoodie. The same hoodie she had folded weeks prior as she was organizing the clothes and coincidentally had found the ring box inside. She shakily opens the box, and inside still sits the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. You thought it was smart to leave it at her old apartment since she barely went there.

She doesn’t know how long she stood there, just staring at it, but Momo came worriedly to her room calling her name, so she assumed she had been there for a while. When she locks eyes with Momo, she can’t control the sob that wrecks through her, collapsing on the floor right after.

“She’s gone” she whimpers, feeling Momo’s arms circle her frame. “I lost her”

The older girl doesn’t know what to say, seeing her younger cousin so heartbroken, so lost, so unlike the shy joyous girls she knew, she felt helpless. “Let’s get you to bed, ok?”

“Please don’t leave” She whispers as she sees Momo start to leave the room.

“I’m only getting some water, I’ll be right back you won’t even notice ok?” She quickly says, trying to be as reassuring as possible. Sleep came faster than her, soon she was asleep in the bed you had once shared.

#twice x reader #twice imagines #mina x reader #myoui mina x reader #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #gg x reader #mina imagines

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