#I mean no wonder he’s so focused on popularity

[feelingtheaster99]

“Even if you weren’t ‘maximum maximum legend,’ I would still want to hang out with you

🥹 Awwww, Mazey

[anakinh]

genuinely do not understand how anyone could play crisis core and come out of it thinking that angeal possesses the brain cell between him, genesis, and sephiroth. there are no brain cells here.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Prescription For Pleasure

Warnings: MDNI, sex, masturbation, medical masturbation, use of vibrators, clit play, piv sex, use of latex gloves, oral (fem receiving), some praise, kinda slow burn A/n: I am not normal about this man in any way. Not really proofread. Please do not use my banners without permission.

You’re seated in Zayne’s office, trying not to squirm as he sets up your appointment. Although this was now the third time you were seeing him for this regular inspection, it didn’t alleviate your nerves the slightest. Each month, according to the Hunter’s Association regulations, every hunter needed to be seen by their primary care physician for 3 consecutive days for their health.

And although the association deemed it a necessity, it was an embarrassing requirement according to you. The Hunter’s Association had done a survey and discovered that many of their employees suffered from high levels of stress because they were isolated and lacked much-needed human contact. To combat this, they made it mandatory to get physical contact by a medical professional every month.

But when all the fancy jargon was pushed aside, all the hunters called it the same thing - medical masturbation. It had become wildly popular amongst both men and women hunters, eagerly marking the days on their calendar for when they could come in. When you heard about the rule, you wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You had tried talking to Jenna to insist that you were indeed taking care of yourself in that aspect, thanks to your trusted vibrator, but she had shaken her head no. 

“We need documentation. I’m subject to it, and so is everyone else in my order.”  Defeated, you’d walked out of Jenna’s office before remembering another mortifying fact with a jolt. Your primary care physician was Zayne. 

Your childhood friend, your trusted cardiologist, stoic and calm, who remained reserved during your general checkups, was going to be your medical masturbator. You had almost turned yourself into a ball on the floor, tweaked out at the insanity of it all. Although Zayne was your general physician, you had a separate gynecologist, and apart from asking if you’d had your annual PAP smear, Zayne had left that part of your anatomy unquestioned. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him, and sure, if he’d asked you out on a date, you would have been more than happy to let him inspect you all he wanted down there.

But this clinical setting, enforced by your organization was a little too much to bear. Wondering how to tackle this situation, you wander over to Tara who was humming as she made her medical bookings on her phone app. “Isn’t this exciting?” she squeals as she sees you. “God knows the dating pool is thin right now. This is just what I needed!”

Tara’s primary care physician was a woman, and you wondered if that was a pro or a con. On the one hand, dropping your panties for a woman doctor seemed less unnerving than for a man. But if you had a preference for men, would it work against your arousal? You shook your head at your ridiculous musings and focused on talking to Tara. “Are you really that excited about this?”

“You have no idea!” Tara taps her feet as she talks to you. 

“And you’re ok about having a woman stimulate you?” You probe, trying to gauge Tara’s reaction. Tara giggles and lightly pats your shoulder. 

“I don’t know but the idea is kind of hot. I mean, getting it on in a doctor’s office? Besides if I don’t like it, I can change the doctor the next time.”

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. “You can change your doctor?”

“For this yes, the app gives you an option since it involves showing off a lot of intimate areas. You have to be able to trust your doctor right?”

You logged into the app, finding the little button to request a change in doctors, but for some reason, the page kept refreshing and crashing. With a sigh, you decide to get the worst of it over with and call Zayne, hoping he can make the change for you on his end. His voice is cool and professional when he answers your call.

“Yes?”

“So, you must have heard about…the new regulation?” you had put forth nervously.

“I am aware of it, yes.” 

“Well, for obvious reasons, I would like a different doctor.” 

Zayne smoothly says, “Of course. Patient comfort is always first. Do you have a doctor in mind?”

“Maybe my gynecologist? I tried doing it in the app but it keeps crashing.” There’s a moment of silence and you can hear Zayne’s fingers tapping away at his keyboard before a low hum leaves his end of the line.

“There appears to be a problem.”

“Problem?” you’d parrotted back.

“Yes. Because so many people are booking appointments at the same time, most of the available doctors are already taken. Including your gynecologist.” 

It felt like watching a bird crashing into a window in slow motion, that brief moment of hope that it wouldn’t hit the glass shattering in an instant. “Oh.”

There’s a pause before Zayne delicately says, “I’m sorry but it looks like you will have to make those appointments with me for this month. 3 of them according to the regulation. Hopefully, you can make the change for next month.” His voice sounded slightly apologetic.

“Won’t it be weird given that we know each other personally?” The question had fallen from your lips before you could stop yourself. 

“I promise not to treat you any differently than any of my other patients who are coming in for this inspection. I understand this may be a little unexpected, but I assure you I did a term of gynecology during my internship.”

A tinge of mirth carried over in his voice and you can’t help but make a noise of embarrassment. “Zayne, please!” His laugh was dry but not unkind, and you can’t help but want to hide your face even though he couldn’t see you. 

“Don’t worry too much. But I do advise you to make the appointments soon. My schedule is filling up rapidly.”

With those words, he’d disconnected the call and you were left wondering if an unknown god from another planet had cursed your existence. 

And changing doctors had proven to be more difficult than you’d thought. The entire organization seemed to be having a single thought. They had made appointments in the app almost halfway into the year, essentially blocking you from being able to do anything about your situation. Now on your third month with Zayne, you watch as he checks his notes from your last session, feeling like you want to scamper from the room.

The last two sessions had been incredibly stimulating, your arousal heightened by the fact you were attracted to Zayne. You’d never considered having someone watch as you touched yourself but found that you’d enjoyed it, at least, when it was him. He had remained professional, but you’d avoided him these last two months, save for when you had to get your monthly cardiac profile. He reads his notes from his computer as he prepares for your session. 

“Preferred device for stimulation still a vibrator, with a large, rounded, flexible head?” His eyes remain on his screen and you’re grateful for him giving you this smidgen of privacy. 

“Yes.”

“Preference for the doggystyle position still?” 

Your face burns. “Yes.”

“Still consenting for verbal stimulation?”

You nod your head.

“And still consenting for internal vaginal stimulation?” You make a noise of consent, squeezing your thighs together, your panties uncomfortably chafing against your already swollen pussy. 

“All right, I have everything I need.” He logs off and removes his lab coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his well-corded arms, and your mouth almost waters at the sight of them. Clearing your throat, you shyly reach into your bag and pull out the vibrator in question, which he takes from you and clamps into a stand, adjusting it over the examination table you’d be on. A bottle of lube awaits on the tray next to the table and you swallow as he finishes the setup. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says in that deep voice, and feeling like your fingers are wrapped in thick woolen mittens, you reach behind you to untie the hospital gown you’re wearing, and it falls to the floor with a swoosh, your nipples pebbling under the sudden chill. A small set of sensors were taped to your chest and on the sides of your forehead, essential medical devices to ensure your orgasm was satisfactory. Unperturbed, Zayne gestures to the table and you make your way onto it, letting your feet settle in the stirrups as he settles on a stool between your legs, pulling on latex gloves before gently spreading your folds apart. You stare up at the ceiling as he does his initial checkup.

“Labia look healthy, no signs of trauma or abnormal discharge,” he murmurs, then runs a finger down the edge of the fold that separates your inner and outer lips, causing your core to clench involuntarily. You hold still, knowing very well he saw the action, holding your breath, letting out a little sigh as he lets go. 

“Normal reaction to stimuli, already semi-aroused,” he says, trashing the gloves and making another note on his computer. He glances over at you, leaning back uncertainly on the table. “You may begin.”

You swallow, then carefully turn onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the head of the table, grabbing the bottle of lube and squeezing the viscous liquid onto the head of the vibrator, avoiding eye contact as your breasts sway under the motion, nipples painfully hard from anticipation. You could feel Zayne’s gaze but can’t bring yourself to look up. Even though this was the third time, it hadn’t gotten easier, stripping naked and pleasuring yourself in his office. 

Once the rounded head of the vibrator is slick, you turn, the chill of the lube against your heated membranes causing more blood to flow into your already engorged nub, and run your moist slit across the surface to spread the liquid onto your slickened folds. Your hand fumbles for the little remote control and with a buzz, the vibrator turns on at the lowest setting. You click the button a few more times until it gets to the speed you liked, then fail to hold back a moan as the sensations pleasurably begin to take hold in your clit. 

The first time you had done this, nervousness had made you set the vibrator on the highest possible setting hoping to get a quick orgasm and sprint out of the office. Unfortunately, the sensors relayed this information into Zayne’s medical record that your climax had been unsatisfactory, and you had endured being lectured by him with the medical gown loosely draped on your body, your rear open to the cold office air. 

His tone wasn’t unkind but it hadn’t helped you feel better either. “It helps neither of us if you rush this. The whole purpose of this examination is to ensure you’re relaxing. I know it’s embarrassing but if you fail to have a proper orgasm, I’ll have to make you repeat the process until I get data that says otherwise.”

“The sensors are-”

“The only way to measure anything. Without involving another person anyway.”

His words had left you gobsmacked and your retort had died in your mouth. After that incident, you had learned. Even with the chagrin of having him watch you, you had learned to take your time and let the feelings build, leading to incredibly savory climaxes that made your body squirm from the aftershocks. 

Your hips sway, setting up a rhythm to brush your sensitive slit onto the head, letting it vibrate from cunt to clit, the lube aiding the frictionless sliding and making your core drip. Quiet noises of pleasure leave your throat as help yourself, arching your back and changing the curvature of your ass to maximize the sensations, then when the perfect pattern emerges, you let out a keening sigh, and try to remain still, letting the vibrator work its magic. 

Zayne, who has been quietly observing the computer this entire time, observing the spikes relayed from the sensors, asks, “Have you found your optimal pleasure form?”

“Yes,” you gasp, the timbre of his voice sending an arrow of lust into the deepest parts of your clenching core. You knew what was about to come next. The sound of Zayne’s desk chair moving, followed by the snap of latex gloves as he pulled a fresh pair onto those beautiful hands. He approaches the examination table and takes the bottle of lube you had set aside earlier, a wet squelching noise issuing from it as he squeezes it over his gloved hand, gathering the fluid on his index and middle fingers. He leans over to whisper in your ears; the verbal stimulation has begun.

The humiliating reveal that you had a heavy praise kink had come up during your initial session and despite your insistence that it wasn’t necessary, Zayne, the ever-diligent worker, had made a note in your profile, and he’d been fulfilling it each time. A tickle of hot breath near your ear, before he murmurs, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

The hum of the vibrator in the background coupled with his voice makes your breath catch in your throat. You nod, knowing you didn’t have it in you to form coherent words. 

“That’s a good patient. Good patients listen to their doctors you know. And you’re doing a wonderful job.”

Your hips snap back to push your clit against the rubber pad, letting out a whimper of pleasure, the action pushing your ass up higher, revealing your pathetically drooling cunt, fluttering with the dissatisfaction of being unfilled. 

“Are you ready?” He waits for your consent and you manage a husky, ‘mm hm’.

“Good girl. Take a breath.”

You inhale, trying to relax, then let out an uninhibited moan as Dr. Zayne inserts his middle finger into your needy cunt, the ring of muscles offering no resistance to the probing digit. He gently thrusts a few times, before curling the tip of his finger up into the delicate patch of nerves on your upper wall, the smooth come hither motion awakening a new level of pleasure in your body. Your fingers tighten on the edges of the table, sobbing, trying not to scream at the feelings that threatened to explode from you. He keeps up the gentle assault before asking, “Are you ready for another one?”

“Yes…” your voice comes out shakily, knowing you desired more than just his fingers, but that you would never get to experience it. 

“Perfect. So well behaved, taking exactly what I give you.” Zayne’s sensual voice floods your ear before his index pushes into you, the thickness of both his fingers sending you into overdrive. Your walls clench welcomingly around him, inciting an exciting pull of liquid heat in your abdomen, the muscles tensing in anticipation for the exquisite release you knew was about to occur. 

Feeling your inhibitions abandon you as you are stroked closer to orgasm your self-control slips and his name falls from your lips as he pushes over the edge.

“Zayne…” some partially functioning confine in the back of your brain registers what you had just involuntarily purred, but the spasms rocking your core, those gratifying waves of delight flooding your body made it easier to ignore it as your being is reduced to a pliant mess of pleasure. His fingers ease up as the fluttering in your pussy calms down, your clit pulsating weakly as the final vestiges of pleasure are wrung from your body. 

With a wet noise, his fingers leave your moist hole, the glove coated with your juices and the lubricant. Awareness finally comes crashing around you as you realize what you had uttered in the throes of passion. 

“I…I didn’t…I wasn’t in control…” You try to find a way to explain, to let him know you had very little choice in the matter of sobbing his name as you orgasmed, but everything feels flat, almost on the fine line between explaining and insulting. 

“There’s no need.” Almost as if he’s read your mind, Zayne matter-of-factly redirects the conversation. “It’s not uncommon to blurt out things during climax. Some people swear, and others call out names. It was a very normal reaction considering I was the one in the room with you.”

He throws the gloves in the trash and goes to check the computer, to ensure the sensors had given him the information he needed before starting the second round of the appointment.

“Oh.” You say quietly as he sits at his desk, feeling dejected. Although relieved he wasn’t making a big deal out of it, you can’t help but feel disappointed with his reaction. Shouldn’t a man be flattered when a woman cried out his name when she came? Maybe he really was treating you strictly as a patient. And here you were, pussy exposed and spread after being probed by his dextrous fingers, mooning over him like a high school girl. Perhaps the limit of your relationship with him was in fact, doctor and patient, the childhood friends aspect fading. 

So there was no romance here at all. You had a crush on him, and he was doing his job. Reality sucks. You sniff and suddenly feel cheap, and get out of the doggystyle position and try to find the hospital gown to preserve some of your modesty. Zayne glances over at your sudden movements.

“Are you cold? I can get you a blanket.”

“I’m fine.” You try to sound normal. 

“Your records show that you usually rest about 10 minutes before you are ready for the next round. Do you feel like that will be the case this time too?”

You find the gown and drag it up to your chin, covering your body as you lay back on the table. “Yeah. Actually a little sooner today maybe. I have somewhere to be.”

“You can’t rush these things. Your body will cum when it wants to. A forced orgasm doesn’t promote anything beneficial.”

“Well can we find a way for this to happen quickly and in compliance with the sensors?” You’re trying not to let your frustration show, the pleasantness of your orgasm fading. “I don’t think I have the patience to do two more rounds.”

Zayne listens to you impassively, but those amber eyes flecked with green had an underlying intensity you couldn’t place. “You don’t have the patience to do two more rounds?” He gets up and comes over to you. “You want to just leave then?” He approaches the edge of the table and there’s tension in his jaw. Perplexed, you look at him, his reaction unexpected. 

“No, I’m sorry, I know I can’t leave because of compliance and all that.”

“Compliance,” Zayne mutters under his breath before grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him, a gasp leaving your throat. 

“You’re getting frustrated because you have to do this a few times every month while being supervised? Do you have any idea what I have to do before you come in for these sessions?” His voice is a growl and you clam up, shocked by this aggressive display of expression from him.

“Every month I have to remain professional as you come in, pleasure yourself, and then leave. I have to endure seeing your beautiful body bare in front of me and control all my impulses to touch you, to not overstep my limitations as your doctor. I pleasure myself remembering the noises you make and ensure I’m well spent before coming in to do your appointments. You sit there, acting like it’s hard for you, but do you have any idea what you do to me?”

One of his knees is on the table, and he’s looming over you making you feel like a tiny animal caught in his fury. “It’s torture, to watch you. You’re not like the other patients I see. You never have been. Because with you, I always feel like I’m on the verge of losing control. Do you know how difficult it is to not do things to you that aren’t specified on your medical record? To have my fingers so intimately inside you, feel every little drop of pleasure clenching around my fingers, knowing at the end I can’t have you to myself? To hear you call my name and know that you only see me as your doctor?” 

Your face is a bright shade of red but you can’t look away from his face. His teeth are gritted, and when you dare to glance down, you see the noticeable bulge that has formed between his legs. He follows your glance and clicks his tongue, letting go of your chin. 

“I know I crossed a boundary today. It’s all right. You can go. I’ll reschedule you with another doctor. I know you didn’t want me in the first place.”

Your mind is a blur as you quickly reach out to grab his hand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. His admission was like a prayer answered, and you weren’t going to meek about this. His breath hitches as he feels you pulling at his hand and gives you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part but the words you want to say refuse to come out. 

“Damn it,” he whispers ferally before his mouth captures yours in a rough kiss. It was wild and demanding, a contrast to the reserved, patient man he usually was. You’re swept up in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. When you break apart, his hand cups your cheek, his eyes searching your face.

“This isn’t just because of the session right?” He asks keenly and you realize what he’s asking you. He’d been aching for you before this whole stupid policy came into place. The same way you’d been longing for him. 

“No, it’s not. I had a crush on you back when you became my doctor to check on my heart condition.” A sigh of relief leaves him before he tenderly presses his forehead to yours, and you’re caught up in the sweetness of the moment. 

“I just had to be sure.”

Boldly, you raise your head, delighted when he meets you, pulled back into his kiss, your tongues sliding over each other, your fingers tangling into his hair, scratching the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

You gasp as he breaks the kiss to drag his tongue down the column of your throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the heated flesh, your blood humming in your veins as your eyes flutter closed. He pulls away the gown and pulls your perked nipple into his mouth, and you revel in the jolt of pleasure it brings you, each suckle felt in your clit which had already swollen up again in need. His fingers capture your other nipple, softly tweaking and pulling it and drawing little whines of desire from your throat. 

Your hand finds the junction between his legs and cups the heavy bulge, drawing a groan from him, palming him through his slacks, feeling it grow and tent the fabric under your ministrations. A low guttural sound leaves him and he gets off the table, and you almost protest until you see him dragging the small wheeled stool from earlier towards the table. He settles down on it, looping his arms around the tops of your thighs and pulling you closer to the table's edge until your feet find the stirrups again. 

“Stay open for me darling,” he instructs, his eyes glittering and you shiver as you feel his breath against your swollen folds. You squeak as he pushes your folds apart with his nose, inhaling your scent, his eyes growing dark with lust. “You smell delicious. I always wondered. Had to stop myself from sniffing my gloves after you climaxed. Not professional you know.” 

The musky tang of your pussy fills his senses, and his tongue darts out and dips into your slit, finding the swollen bud and licking it with just the right pressure that makes your toes curl and stars pop into your vision. 

Your hand rests on his head, tugging his beautiful dark locks, his name falling from your lips without barriers. Your hips rock against him, moaning, then let a sob as his lips suction around your clit. His fingers, free from the gloves at last, probe your entrance, scissoring inside to prepare you for what was to come before they curl up into that gummy patch that he knew too well. 

The sensations flood you, and the sheer knowledge of knowing you had Zayne touching you this way, unbound by the usual rules was sending you into a frenzy. Incoherent noises leave your mouth, crying out hotly as he teases the orgasm from you, your body shivering from the intensity. 

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and takes in your appearance, so soft and satisfied on his table, a dreamy look in your eyes.

“Are you prepared for the after?” he asks, you nod, more than eager to experience him. A sly smile crosses his face before he reaches over into the little chest of drawers by the table and pulls out a condom. 

“Hospitals have free condoms. It would be impractical to not use one when it’s on hand.” He explains seeing your questioning look and stands to undo his pants. You watch curiously as his cock is finally freed, eyes widening as it faces you, so impressive and veiny, standing proudly with a slight curve in its length. His pubes were neatly trimmed at the base, ebony curls visible behind the shaft. As he starts to roll on the condom, you feel your whole body heating up in anticipation. 

He leans down to kiss you before taking your feet and resting them on his shoulders, his cock at the perfect angle to enter you. As he sinks into your welcoming heat, you let out a sigh of longing, feeling the delicious stretch of muscle as he pushes up inside you, gasping as you feel his full length sheathe itself. As he bottoms out, his eyes close in bliss, hardly daring to believe that after all this time, he is finally getting to fulfill this private dream. 

Each stroke has him brushing against your gspot and kissing your cervix as he paces himself, feeling the primal urge to take you roughly and selfishly calling at his self-control. A growl leaves his throat as you whimper, straining towards him as the both of you struggle to keep a grip on reality. He feels the seductive way your walls clench around him, hears the soft noises you make, sees your face contort in pleasure with every roll of his hips. 

“Oh you feel so good,” he pants hotly, glasses askew, almost at the tip of his nose as he thrusts. “Clenching me so needily. Gonna milk me dry.”

Your response is a shuddering whimper, your back arching greedily to feel all of him, creating the perfect curvature to brush your clit against the base of his erection with each push of his hips. He feels the little bud on his heated skin, your combined fluids dripping onto his shaft, slickening the bundle of nerves with each stroke. 

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock the way you do on my fingers.” Zayne’s voice is husky as he tries to hold on, damned if he came before you. “I know you want to. I can feel the way your walls are spasming. They always do this pattern before you orgasm.”

The fact that he had memorized this knowledge of you was too much and you let go, your voice filling the room as you climax. Zayne’s hips stutter as he feels you around his length, pussy fluttering so him. His pace quickens, the sound of slapping skin becoming more and more urgent, his balls hitting your ass each time as he chases his orgasm. 

A shiver passes through his body as it happens and he buries himself in your warmth. You hum in satisfaction as you feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you as he spills his load. He pants, sweat on his forehead as he bends down to kiss you again, carefully lowering your legs which burn from the stretch as they settle on the stirrups. 

Threading your fingers through his hair, you brush your noses together, smiling shyly at him as he smirks, his eyes closing as he catches his breath.

“Can I see you outside of my office sometime?” he asks and you laugh at the invitation. 

“Are you asking me out on a date after having sex just once?” you tease as he grips the base of the condom and slides out, your pussy feeling the loss keenly. 

“I have been wanting to for a while. I was just wondering if I was misreading the signals. But I think I have a solid answer now.” He helps you sit up and cradles your body against his, idly stroking your skin, before gently removing the sensors off your body. 

“Let’s get dressed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead after a moment of cozy silence, and the both of you hunt down your clothes. As he fixes his tie, Zayne passes by his computer and lets out an amused huff. 

“Something funny?” you ask as you button your blouse.

“The sensors definitely gave enough information to make anyone’s head spin.” You walk over and snort as you see the window, full of sharp spikes. 

“Well, at least I am guaranteed you had a good time.” Zayne’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he pulls you in for another kiss. 

“I’m not changing my doctor,” you reassure him as you pull away. There’s amusement in his gaze when he replies. 

“Oh, definitely not. I think if the Hunter’s Association ever sees this record, they’ll heavily advise you to remain with the same healthcare professional.” 

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating support banner by @/ cafekitsune @theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @actuallysaiyan

[pretty-sparkle-bomb]

Thinking thinking thinking...

About 3rd year!Bakugo and 1st year!You

You don't even know where the crush came from... it just sorta happened.

But being the mastermind you are, and knowing that Bakugo would most likely reject you if you confess right off the bat, you decide to play it the long way, the safe way.

You start off simple by joining the most respected clubs in school, and being an active member (which eventually leads to a huge popularity boost).

Now a lot of people know you, and Bakugo would be lying if he said he never heard your name before.

You're happy that your small circle of friends are outgoing, just like you are. It doesn't take you long to befriend the upperclassmen.

Now you're at a sleepover with the girls in his class, and things couldn't be more perfect.

Eventually you worm your way into his little friend group, easily attracting them to you with your driven yet friendly personailty.

Bakugo values strength and independence, so seeing you do all that would probably catch his attention in a positive way.

Maybe you'll end up spilling your feelings to Mina one night when you were at a party and end up drunk (you're a lightweight).

I feel like Mina would be the type to tease you about it, but she wouldn't tell anyone... she'd probs try to set you and him up in a subtle way...

And when she's done, Bakugo suddenly finds himself searching for you in crowds, at parties, any event that UA has, his eyes are looking for you.

He'd probably be a bit more friendly with you, wondering why he's suddenly so interested in talking to you.

He might glance your way more often during group outings or training sessions, maybe even unconsciously.

You might catch him looking in your direction during conversations, or he could acknowledge you more during group interactions. Even if Bakugo wouldn’t show it openly, those tiny shifts in attention would mean a lot, given how focused he usually is. You’d be on his radar now, which is a pretty big step with someone like him.

And like that, you have one of UA's most popular guys wrapped around your finger.

Yeah, a fic is definitely coming on this. Who wants to be tagged!?

Check out the fic here

[lecliss]

Wait I just saw info saying Weiss does in fact have a BT!!!! I need to see it!!! I need his kit video to be posted already!!! Im dying to know what it is!!!! And Reno is getting an FR/BT too in the following banner, so October is gonna be busy for me!!!

[won4kiss]

── ❝ ꒰ 𝐶𝐴𝑈𝑆𝐸 𝒫𝑅𝐸𝑇𝑇𝑌 𝐼𝑆𝑁’𝑇 𝒫𝑅𝐸𝑇𝑇𝑌 𝐸𝑁𝑂𝑈𝐺𝐻 𝒜𝑁𝑌𝑊𝐴𝑌 .ᐟㅤ ៸៸ ﹙ 심재윤 ﹚ ᶻ𐰁

GENRE ៸៸ established relationship ៸ oneshot ﹔ SYPNOSIS┆in which your insecurities take over your mind, but luckily your boyfriend is there to remind you of how perfect you are .ᐟㅤ ꒰ WORD COUNT﹕1650 ꒱── 𝓦ARNING(S) not proofread ៸ petnames ៸ kissing ៸ mean girls once again!! ៸ . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ⊱ LIBRARY . . . ﹕LUNA 💭 —i’m so done w school i need december to come asap like rn desperatelyyy T-T ✧ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

YOU’VE KNOWN JAKE SIM FOR A FEW MONTHS NOW.

though you had been friends for a while, you were still getting used to the fact that he was now your boyfriend.

it was hard to believe sometimes—jake, the effortlessly charming guy who seemed to have the whole school’s attention, had chosen you.

the popular, athletic, insanely good-looking guy who could probably have anyone he wanted.

and yet, he was holding your hand as you walked through the crowded mall together.

today, the two of you decided to hang out after school, hoping to escape the pressure of the hallways where jake was always surrounded by admirers.

the mall felt like a safe space, somewhere you could enjoy time together without everyone watching. or so you thought.

even now, walking next to him, you couldn’t help but notice the way people’s eyes followed him. ─── 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘜𝘛 .ᐟㅤ

it was like every girl you passed did a double-take, their gazes lingering a little too long.

you tried to shake off the feeling, but the more it happened, the harder it was to ignore.

especially when some girls weren’t subtle about it at all.

you glanced at jake as he laughed, his smile bright and genuine, he was telling you about something funny that happened in practice earlier, his hand warm and comforting in yours.

but instead of focusing on his words, all you could think about was how perfect he seemed—his golden skin glowing under the dim lights, his hair tousled in that effortlessly messy way, and his smile… god, his smile. it was no wonder people couldn’t stop staring.

as you walked past one of the stores in the mall, a tall, confident girl stepped directly in front of jake.

her glossy hair swung behind her as she smiled brightly at him, completely ignoring your presence as if you were invisible.

“hey,” she started, her tone dripping with confidence as she twirled a lock of her hair around her finger.

“i couldn’t help but notice you. you’re really cute. can i get your number?”

your heart sank immediately—you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, embarrassment flushing through you as you stood there, watching her blatantly hit on your boyfriend.

the worst part? she didn’t even glance at you, it was like you didn’t matter.

jake blinked, clearly taken off guard by her boldness, but he quickly recovered.

with a polite smile, he shook his head.

“i appreciate that, but i have a girlfriend,” he said, his voice calm as he pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist as if to show her exactly who that girlfriend was.

only then did the girl’s eyes flick over to you, and the brief look she gave you made your stomach twist.

it was quick—barely a second—but it was enough.

a subtle, almost disdainful glance, as if she couldn’t believe you were the one he was talking about.

“oh,” she said, her smile faltering for just a second before she composed herself.

“well, lucky her.” she flashed one last grin at jake, completely ignoring you again, before walking off with a dismissive shrug.

you stood there, frozen for a moment, the weight of her silent judgment hanging heavy in the air.

jake, meanwhile, didn’t seem to think much of it.

he chuckled softly, shaking his head as he turned to you. “that was random, huh?”

you forced a laugh, but it felt hollow. “yeah, random,” you mumbled, trying to shake off the insecurity that was beginning to build up.

jake didn’t notice the way your smile wavered, the way your grip on his hand loosened just slightly as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

as the two of you continued walking through the mall, the girl’s words kept replaying in your head.

“you’re really cute. can i get your number?”

and the way she had looked at you afterward—it stung more than you wanted to admit.

jake was perfect in every way, and you… well, you were just you.

a little later, you excused yourself to go to the restroom, needing a moment to collect yourself.

jake had been nothing but kind, but your mind couldn’t stop racing with doubts.

you stepped into the bathroom, hoping to take a deep breath and calm the swirling storm of insecurities that had been creeping up on you since the moment that girl approached him.

as you washed your hands, you heard voices from the stall behind you.

you didn’t pay much attention at first, but then you caught a familiar name.

“did you see jake sim?” one of the girls asked, her voice dripping with excitement. “he’s so hot. but did you see who he’s with?”

your heart sank as you realized they were talking about you and jake.

you stayed still, not wanting to make a sound as they continued, their voices echoing in the empty restroom.

“yeah, i saw,” another girl chimed in. “honestly, i don’t get it. he’s way out of her league.”

you felt your chest tighten—the sting of their words was sharp, each sentence feeling like a slap in the face.

“she’s not even that pretty,” the first girl continued, her voice lowering to a cruel whisper.

“i mean, look at him. he’s gorgeous. i don’t know what he sees in her.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut—you stared at your reflection in the mirror, feeling your throat close up as you tried to hold back tears.

“out of her league”—the phrase repeated in your head over and over again, their voices feeding every insecurity you had about your relationship with jake.

you left the restroom as quickly as you could, avoiding eye contact with the girls who were now laughing as they exited their stalls.

when you walked back to where jake was waiting, you felt different—like a weight had settled on your shoulders, dragging you down with each step.

jake greeted you with his usual smile, holding out your drink.

“there you are. took a while. everything okay?” he asked, his voice filled with the same warmth that used to comfort you.

but right now, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you didn’t deserve that warmth.

you nodded, taking the drink from him without meeting his eyes.

“yeah, i’m fine,” you mumbled, but it was a lie, and jake knew it.

as the two of you walked through the mall again, jake kept glancing at you, noticing how quiet you had gotten.

normally, you’d be chatting and laughing with him, but now, you were distant, your responses short and dismissive.

the silence between you felt heavy, and he could sense something was wrong.

“hey,” he said softly, stopping and turning to face you. “what’s going on? you’ve been really quiet since earlier.”

you looked away, biting your lip as you felt the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

you didn’t want to say it—you didn’t want to admit how much those girls had gotten to you.

but the insecurity had built up so much that it was impossible to ignore.

“why are you even with me, jake?” the question slipped out before you could stop it, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you had been holding in.

“i mean, you’re jake sim. you’re… perfect. and i’m just… me. you could have any girl in school, so why me?”

jake’s face softened, confusion flickering in his eyes as he took a step closer to you.

“what? what are you talking about?”

you let out a shaky breath, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

“these girls in the bathroom… they were talking about us. about how you’re ‘out of my league.’ and honestly, i’ve been thinking that too. i just don’t get it, jake. why me?”

jake’s expression darkened slightly as he glanced over your shoulder, spotting the girls who had just exited the restroom, still whispering and giggling as they passed by.

he understood immediately—his grip on your hand tightened, and he gently turned your face to look at him, his eyes filled with nothing but affection and adoration.

“baby,” he said softly, his voice low and serious. “don’t ever listen to what other people say about us. about you.”

you looked up at him, your heart aching with the weight of your doubts, but jake’s eyes were clear and sincere as he held your gaze.

“i’m with you because i want to be with you,” he continued, his voice unwavering.

“because you’re everything to me. i don’t care what anyone else thinks. you’re funny, and smart, kind— and the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen. you get me in ways no one else does. i love the way you make me laugh when i’m having a bad day. i love how you’re always there for me, no matter what.”

his words sank in slowly, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the insecurity that had been clouding your mind.

he reached up, gently cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had slipped down your cheeks.

“you are perfect for me,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “you’re not ‘just’ anything. you’re everything i’ve ever wanted.”

before you could respond, jake leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, gentle kiss.

it was slow, filled with the warmth and reassurance you desperately needed.

his touch was gentle, and in that moment, every doubt, every insecurity began to fade away, replaced by the overwhelming feeling of being wanted—not just by anyone, but by jake.

when he finally pulled away, his eyes met yours again, filled with the same intense softness.

“don’t ever doubt why i’m with you,” he murmured. “you’re the only one i want. always.”

and in that moment, wrapped in jake’s arms, you believed him.

© won4kiss 2024

៸៸ ❝ PLEASE REBLoG AND LiKE .ᐟㅤ 💌

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[ssentimentals]

come and get your love {kim mingyu}

pairing: kim mingyu x fem!reader

prompt: arranged marriage! AU, in which mingyu is a popular dj and fem!reader is a famous news reporter. it gets worse before it gets better.

warnings: none! it's not the usual sweet/fluffy stuff everyone is used from me though.

one.

mingyu stares at the window and wonders if he's ever heard of someone jumping out from the sixth floor. surely someone did, right? and they probably stayed alive, right?

'focus.' wonwoo hisses next to him, jamming his elbow hard to mingyu's right side.

mingyu blinks back to the present, looking at the contract in front of him. his sign looks almost foreign on it and to be honest the more he looks at it, the more this whole 'jumping out of the window on sixth floor' idea starts looking great. mingyu turns his head and his gaze lands on you. the only person here with who he's unfamiliar and isn't this ironic? how most unfamiliar person for him in this room is about to become the closest person to him in his life?

'thank you.' your voice is clear and you even muster a smile to the lawyer. a fake one, but still a smile. 'can we get going now?'

'where are hurrying, oh the love of my life?' mingyu asks, raising his voice to sound more dramatic. 'my legal wife, my petal-' wonwoo elbows him hard but mingyu keeps going. 'don't you want to get to know your husband more?'

mingyu waits with baiting breath for your reaction. it's a test from him, sort of. depending on how you'll react he is going to correct his behavior later on. your eyes bore into him with no emotion, nothing on your face betrays how you're feeling. staring at him for few seconds, you simply stand up and walk away, not gracing him with any kind of reply. wonwoo sighs like he's dying next to him but mingyu pays him no mind; he saw your eyes and despite how well you tried to hid it, he saw it - emotion. and he is going to see it again.

two.

'is that wall really that more interesting than me?' mingyu asks, turning towards you. 'it can't be.'

he watches as you slowly turn, facing him. it's been a week since he last saw you and now that you two are back together for fittings, he can't help it. mingyu is not sure what's wrong with him but something about you makes him itchy. he wants to poke you, annoy you, ask you questions, talk to you - anything to get your attention. and when he has it now in form of your raised eyebrow, he can't help but grin. 'so. anything you want to ask from me, my wife?'

your lips twitch and he spent too much time with wonwoo to be able to recognize when someone is trying to hide a smile - it's exactly what you're doing right now. he probs even further: 'i wonder if you're one of those sirens. do you think your voice will lure me in and that's why you're staying silent?'

you uncross your legs and his eyes zero on that motion, focusing a bit too hard on how pretty and long they are. how good they look in those black straight jeans. how nicely they'd look wrapped around-

'it is,' you say, voice not as cold as last time but still rather emotionless. 'the wall, i mean. it is more interesting than you.'

mingyu fakes a gasp, clutching at his chest in an horribly outstaged offence. 'i'll have you know, i'm plenty interesting.' there's a smirk in the corner of your lips and it's such a sexy look on you that mingyu gets thrown off for a second. 'c'mon, ask me something.'

you sigh like he's the biggest annoyance in your life but mingyu sees the way you're biting your inner cheek in order not to smile and he's winning. he's so, so winning. 'mingyu,' you start and he likes the way you say his name. 'are you very upset that there'll be no more parties on ibiza with some hot models for you? now, that you have a wife?'

mingyu blinks. icy chills run down his spine and it's a struggle to keep his expression neutral. 'keeping tabs on me, wifey?' he asks, going for lighthearted but he's too tense to make it look natural.

you roll your eyes, huffing. 'no need to, you're doing a great job by being on every single news portal yourself.'

and it's true, that's the thing. mingyu is a popular dj, of course he's where the party is and yes, in the nice company of pretty people most of the time. but the way you said it - like he's some dirt on your shoes, like you think his whole life is only this, like you know him already when you don't know a damn thing about him - makes him angry. livid, even. he should say something back, something equally bad, but then designer walks in and you two are picture perfect couple again. mingyu kind of hates it. he also hates how he can't even hide the awe in his eyes when you walk out in a white dress, looking stunning.

three.

thunder rolls in with all its might, showing exactly why all flights are cancelled. mingyu watches how mother nature reminds everyone who's actually in charge here, while you're busy stressing out at the background. he turns, focusing on the way you zip and then unzip your bag, grabbing laptop from it with a big sigh. before he can even think it through, question is out of his mouth: 'how can i help you?'

you freeze. you look shocked when you turn to him and he doesn't blame you - it's weird to ask that when both of you are not speaking terms exactly. 'what?' you ask, stuttering a bit. it's kinda cute. 'you want to help me?' mingyu nods. 'why?'

god, you really never want to make anything easy for him, do you? 'because maybe i'm not an asshole you think i am?' mingyu tries but you don't budge. 'fuck, okay. is this how our marriage-'

'fake marriage,' you but in.

'fake marriage is going to be?' mingyu asks. 'we will not talk to each other and you will react like i'm trying to poison you every time i bring you tea? aren't you tired of this?' mingyu moves closer to you. in this huge hotel room you look so small, especially when you wrap arms around yourself like you're doing now. 'our flight got cancelled, but you're stressing out here like our wedding did. i asked a simple question and you're acting like-' he throws his hands in the air, loss of words. you stare back at him, guarded and he suddenly wants to give up. 'actually, nevermind. i'm going to take next room, text me if there'll be any updates about flights.'

mingyu is.. emotionally drained. whenever he tried to take steps towards you all he was met with was a concrete wall. he knows your first meeting could've gone better but the way you're shutting him down is brutal. he grabs his bag and moves to another room, when you softly call out his name. and maybe he shouldn't give in so easily, but it's you and he's ready for anything to get you to talk to him.

'i'm sorry,' you mumble quietly, looking up and meeting his gaze. 'i just- flight is cancelled and we will be late for all our appereances tomorrow and people will be angry-'

'they all will wait,' mingyu interrupts. is this what got you so stressed? you thinking that some people will be angry at you? mingyu instantly despises this idea, you thinking that some people have this power over you. 'they will wait however the fuck they need to wait for us, okay?' a suspicion creeps in his mind. 'did someone say something to you?' the way your eyes widen is an answer enough. 'who?' mingyu asks, raising his voice a little. 'tell me who.'

his voice and tone is firm enough for you to just give him your phone with a message thread with one of the directors of tv channel open. mingyu reads through the messages and grits his teeth so hard, his jaw clicks. 'let me talk to him,' he looks back at you, pleading for you to give permission. 'please. no one should ever talk to you in this way. let me talk to him and i will remind him his place.'

mingyu probably looks very scary right now, but he doesn't care; how dare someone speak to you like that? how dare someone make you this stressed? you nod and mingyu quickly goes to get his phone, typing number of that director. he walks out to call him without noticing sincere small smile playing on your face.

four.

it goes better after that. you two are talking and it's a big win for mingyu. one week full of tv appereances and interview recordings flies in a blink of an eye with your company, especially when you open up to him more and more. mingyu thinks marrying someone who is this smart and funny is not the worst thing in the world.

five.

two weeks till the wedding and mingyu takes you out on your first real date. or well, you don't know yet that this is a date but he's about to drop that bomb soon. the restaraunt is nicely lit, food is delicious and the way candle lights dance on a naked skin of your shoulders in this dress makes him a bit dizzy.

'is this a date?' you ask, looking up at him when waiter brings dessert.

mingyu likes having your eyes on him. he always wanted your attention and now that he has it, he never wants to lose it. he reaches out for your hand, smiling when you let him interlace your fingers together. 'yes, for me. i'd love it if you'll treat it as one, too.'

your eyes are mesmerizing. how mingyu is supposed to concentrate on anything else when you're looking at him like that? your thumb gently caresses his skin. 'it's a date for me too.'

six.

it's all very new. mingyu is not in a rush but he really doesn't want the first time he kisses you to be the wedding so yeah, maybe he is in a rush. it's not like you're complaining though.

'easy there, cowboy,' you giggle, when he pushes you against the door of his bentley. 'what's got you so worked up?'

'you in this dress,' mingyu mutters, leaving small kisses on your neck. 'you dancing to my dj sets. you being next to me. you, just you.' mingyu stops right in front of your lips, practically vibrating with need to learn your taste. 'let me. fuck, please let me, i-'

you kiss him first. and it's everything he thought it'd be and then some more. mingyu kisses back, devours you whole against that car and leaves a stinging bite on your lower lip when he finally pulls back. he brings your foreheads together, breathing heavily. 'we could've been doing this from the start if you didn't act like you had a stick up your ass.'

'fucker,' you mutter, slapping his bicep but with no real heat behind it. 'get off me.' you push him gently and when mingyu steps away, you smile. three days till the wedding and mingyu already is not sure how he's going to survive them without your kisses. 'thanks for the night, mingyu. you were amazing up there.'

mingyu preens, something warm fills his body at your praise of his skills. he knows he's a damn good dj but hearing this from you means so much more. 'i'll see you tomorrow?' he asks, smiling.

you burst out laughing. 'yes, mingyu, i'm not going to skip my own wedding.'

mingyu grins, not wanting to admit how relieved he is to hear this. 'just checking.'

seven.

true to your word, you don't skip the wedding. you are there, looking like an angel in the white dress, making mingyu's heart want to jump out of his ribcage. you kiss sweetly by the applause from everyone and mingyu holds you tight during your first dance.

'forever with me, aren't you excited?' mingyu asks, gently swaying you.

'two years by the contract don't sound like forever,' you say, grinning. 'getting a bit ahead of yourself, mister.'

'what can i say, i'm very confident.' mingyu spins you once, twice and then pushes you back into his arms, right where you belong. 'your heart eyes are giving you away, by the way.'

your laugh is quickly becoming his favorite sound. he smiles too at your giggles. 'you're not exactly being subtle either,' you say playfully. 'happy that you got me in the end, mingyu?'

mingyu leans in, capturing your smile in a sweet kiss. cameras are going crazy and people around are clapping, thinking that it's all fake but it's the single most real thing in his life. 'you have no idea how.'

a/n: this was a request from anon like month ago and i got around it only now, i'm sorry :( hopefully whoever requested this is happy with how it turned out, cause i kinda like it <3 - nini

my other seventeen works are here

my formula 1 works are here

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mentions of violence, mention of putting down / death, etc. words -> 4.2K

abstract -> "Lets make it up to eachother!"

y/n's perspective

“She’s awake! Get the doctor!” I heard and my vision was doubled while my head was throbbing. Where was I? The last thing I remember was…

“Then why don’t you run?”

Did he actually run? Was he finally free like he wanted? How does a hybrid escape without pretending to be human? Oh yeah… the black market. 

If he did... I hope it was successful and not all for nothing.

“y/n? How are you feeling?” I heard and I looked to my side. “Jeno… how’s school been?” I offered him a smile and didn’t have to see his face to know he was concerned for me. “Good, I've been focusing on this internship and well I try my best to not lose sleep,” he said and I smiled. “Haechan should learn from you,” I said and I heard his soft laughter. 

“How… are they?” I asked and he sighed. “Let’s get you checked out first. I’ll let Taeyong-hyung explain,” he said and I knew it was probably bad. 

“Y/n the doctor is gonna come in and do some tests, you’ll be given pain medication and you currently have stitches so this will scar. We’ll set up future appointments” I heard as I saw Johnny enter the room. 

I wonder if they're okay. 

seonghwa’s perspective

Last week we were finally let out. That would mean she's dead or alive to have them do action. I don't know what they did to San or Hongjoong yet. But I was in observation to see if I should be considered for a breeding farm. 

I heard them talk… I had no chance of adoption. My only option was a hybrid farm where their only purpose is to reproduce. It also gave me little hope that she was alive. 

I know she’s scared of me… but she would’ve tried to convince them otherwise. I also did hear that Yeosang and Wooyoung were code greens ready for adoption but Wooyoung has been in the medical wing. 

“If I could, those tigers would be shipped off. Hongjoong is excessively violent, he killed her. What am I supposed to tell San? Or Wooyoung? Those hybrids are far too dependent on her. If they knew, San would become a bigger threat to himself and Wooyoung would join him” I heard. She was dead…?

I may have not had a lot of hope but a part of me hoped she was alive. Oh, Hongjoong… we caused a mess.

“Seonghwa, you have a check” I heard as they opened my curtain. I saw the employee now opening the glass door. “I’m sorry,” I said… and he looked at me confused. 

“If… if I didn’t help her she’d still be alive. Even then I could’ve stopped–" "Seonghwa none of this is your fault, I'm sorry your future isn’t looking too bright,” he said and I felt the tears run down my face. 

“My future was never meant to bright”

yeosang's perspective

She was alive. I knew she had to be… there's no way she'd die. 

I was in isolation. My records unfortunately were publicly known when I was in here. The accident at a popular apartment complex where politicians, CEOs, and even idols lived took pictures of what happened. They warned me… she called in asking if I was gonna be put up for adoption. If… she was dead. I would get a horrible punishment for defying her… maybe even move the country? 

“Yeosang, are you ready for some air?” I heard one of the employees. I remember him being called… Jaemin? He was a friend of hers. “Any news?” I asked and he sighed. 

“Don’t worry, she’ll be fine” he said and I nodded. “Do you believe that?” I asked and it caught him off guard. He was supposed to make me feel better. I know he’s not allowed to say anything…

“Look… she’s the strongest person I know. The last time I saw her, Johnny promised to make sure she was alright and my friend worked with him. She’s in a stable condition”

liar. He was lying… 

“You don’t believe me do you?” he asked and I shook my head. 

“She’s… not in stable condition. In fact, they're trying their best to monitor her at all times–” “What’s wrong with her?” I asked and he sighed. We started walking outside as he looked to think about what he’d say. 

“Hongjoong when he clawed her jaw hit a vein connected to her heart. The week before when Kun was there, she flatlined but I  know she’s stable now we just need her to wake up. If not she might be in a coma for longer than we’d hope” he explained and I could only feel hatred for those tigers and myself… I pushed her, and I misinterpreted her feelings. She was scared of them… and even us. 

“Is there hope?” I asked and his smile said everything. It was forced and I could see the glassy look in his eyes. “There's always hope” 

Liar. 

wooyoung’s perspective

“Wooyoung you need to eat, we don’t want to put you up with the purple code hybrids. She’s not gonna be happy when–” “How can she feel anything? She’s not here… she’s dead isn't she?” I cut him off. The doctor sighed and shook his head. 

“No, she's not dead,” he said and I didn’t believe him. 

“Do it for her… don’t you think she’ll be distraught to see you in a worse state than before? When she saw you she said she was heartbroken. To know that you were a depressed hybrid… that those who promised her to take care of you weren’t–" "She’s not here!” I yelled. 

“Let me mourn her… she isn’t coming back,” I said and I was fully convinced. She would’ve been here already, she’s gone. I should’ve been there.

“Wooyoung you need to take care of yourself, your weight is dropping and you’ll start to get sick..” I turned him out. I didn’t feel hungry… not when I used to live a fantasy almost two weeks ago now. I was hopeful at first…

but then she never came back. 

san’s perspective

The world… stopped. 

My world stopped… code purple. For hybrids who are dangerous to themselves, mainly ones who experience such stress, or depression they harm themselves. 

Would it be so bad to be with her again? Constrained and isolated… How was Wooyoung doing? Was he like me? 

I missed the feeling of that collar on my neck, the feeling of her warmth, I miss her. Where is she? How long has it been since I've been here?

Surely only a few hours… I wonder when she’ll be here. Maybe in a few hours? 

“San, how are you feeling?” I heard and I finally saw someone after they put me here. “I’m… tired,” I said, I was tired, my mind felt like I was spinning and I felt sick. 

“Do you remember what I told you last time?” he asked me. “What?” I asked and he sighed. “San, I've been here three times a day for two weeks now,” he said and I was confused. I laughed, “It's only been a few hours…” I said and he shook his head. 

“I’ll remind you later, today we thought it would be good to take you outside” he said and I shook my head. “San, do you remember when you arrived here after the fight? You lost any sense of time and thought you lived the same day over and over again. You improved so much afterwards… she would want you to improve and get adopted again” he said and I shook my head. 

“I am adopted, she’s my mate” I said and he sighed almost like he was tired. 

“San, we’ve been having the same conversation for the past two weeks, almost three times a day” 

hongjoong’s perspective

My hands felt dirty… They didn’t let me go to the cells anymore. 

I need to get rid of her blood. I didn't mean to kill her. I… where was Seonghwa? Was he okay? Did he get adopted already? Maybe she’s alive and she took them… but not me.

I don’t deserve it… besides living with humans?  I hate them… I hate her… but I want to apologize. I hope she’s okay. I want her to be okay. But is she? Why would they send me away if that's the case, they were preparing to send me off. 

I was slowly accepting what I was destined for… I was gonna die. Born into a circus, I was always gonna die. 

“You’re scheduled to leave in three days” I heard. It was the main doctor… “Dr. Doyoung will take you in to check your wounds,” he said and I was unchained from the ground to be led to the medical wing. 

He knocked on the door when it revealed another employee… and Wooyoung? He looked… starved. His eyes looked lifeless and dark circles prominent. 

He looked up at me to not even react. They led him away, speaking to him in a cheerful voice as if wanting to cheer him up. “You ruined the lives of four hybrids,” the behaviorist said to me. 

“What's wrong with him?” I asked and he scoffed. 

“The healthiest right now is probably Seonghwa and Yeosang. Yeosang though is still clinging to her being alive, while Wooyoung has refused to be cooperative with this severe depressive episode, even San has lost all sense of time and is worse. All humans aren't evil, but you let that control you and even ruined your own chance to actually live” he said as I went inside the room to see the doctor. 

I… I'm sorry…

y/n’s perspective

“Two weeks?” I asked and they nodded. “Johnny and Jeno tried their best to take care of you… but you were asleep for two weeks and they thought for a minute your body was in shock, especially after your flatline last week. 

“I… what?” I was confused with everything. Two weeks I was out… What happened to them? “You’re okay physically, the tests they've done should help and it looks like they helped you gain some strength to walk despite being comatose for two weeks” he explained and I nodded. 

“Curious about anything?” Taeyong asked and I wanted to ask but I was scared. “I’m curious. Curious as to why you were suddenly scared of your hybrids. Kun told me that your hybrids said you started to be detached and started avoiding them and it was clarified that you were scared” he said and I nodded. 

“When I did the interviews… Hongjoong mentioned that hybrids do anything to survive even if they pretend to like their owners” I said and he laughed at me. “You’ve clearly forgotten how those three looked at you. Wooyoung used to– actually has been obsessed with you for years, Yeosang is the most overprotective hybrid i've ever seen and San? He loves you… he was your first hybrid and he… he’s a code purple right now” he said and i stopped. I felt frozen… 

“A… a code purple?” I said hoping I heard wrong and he nodded.

“He’s lost track of time… he thinks it's been hours. His mind is scattered in events, sometimes he’ll think he’s there because he attacked you and become depressed, or he’ll think the attack was minutes before and scream that he’ll kill that tiger. The worst of it is, right now… he’s waiting for you to show up in front of him. He thinks it's been hours and you’ll recover soon, for him it hasn't been two weeks”' he explained and he wiped my cheek.

“He… he’s no, you're messing with me. San… I need to see him!” I declared and he grabbed my elbow. “You shouldn't be so rash. No one knows you’ve recovered… Kun thinks you're as good as dead. He was there when you flatlined and thought there's no hope” he said and everything was overwhelming.

“I need to see him,” I pleaded and he smiled. “And we will, just let me go to the station first. We’ll go later today, I want to take you back home–" "No” I refused and he sighed.

“The blood is clean… Wonyoung had people clean your apartment–" "It won’t feel right with them not there” I argued and he sighed. 

“Give me a few hours then, I'll call Yuta and Shotaro, they'll take care of you,” he said and I sighed. “I’m a grown woman I don’t need to be taken care of” I argued and he nodded. 

“Okay… but they’ll meet with you to make sure you're okay, '' he said and I nodded. “I can walk–” “I need time alone… I know where they work” I said and he nodded. “Be careful, you just–” “Taeyong please” I pleaded and he nodded as he left. 

I couldn't stop the tears flowing down. I was an idiot… I doubted them and I failed Hongjoong… I need to talk to him–

“Why are you crying again?” I heard as I noticed a man in front of me. It was the man that helped me before. “It's been a long day” I answered and he nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but please don’t cry, surely whatever it is it can be fixed?” he said with a  cheerful smile. “Have you ever owned a hybrid?” I asked and his eyes widened. “Only one,” he said and I nodded. “How do you know their feelings are genuine and they actually love you?” I asked and he chuckled. 

“That's an interesting question… Well, hybrids are known for faking they care but that's a rare few. If you treat them with love and care I can assure you they will be the same” he said and I nod. 

“What if they fake it though, even if you love them to the best of your ability?” I asked and he hummed. “Well, a hybrid can fake words, but the things they do have meaning. Where– I mean hybrids are like animals by the end of the day. They have animal habits they follow, like uhm bunnies circle around their owners, fox hybrids are dependent on owners and usually bond to one person for the rest of their life–" "What about canines and panthers?” I asked and he chuckled. 

“That's a weird pair?” he laughed and I smiled. 

“Well, panther hybrids only really expose themselves to their owners when they fully trust them so sleeping is a big one. Uhm… panthers are actually known to cook or feed their mates as an act of love? –” San often would feed me off his own plate and make me eat more… and he would always say how he preferred sleeping in my room.

He was showing he trusted me… 

“– Dog hybrids however, are known to scent their mates and groom them? So dog hybrids will often fix their owners hair or males would often scent their owner to tell others to back off” he explained and suddenly Yeosang made much more sense to me. 

“I can tell you're a good hybrid owner… any hybrid would be lucky for someone to care about them like you do” he said and I smiled. 

“Thank you…?” I didn't know his name. “Oh? Uhm my name! My name is… Yunho” he said and I smiled. “Thank you, Yunho! My name is y/n” I said and he smiled. 

“It was my pleasure, ah! I think you dropped this?” 

Yuta and Shotaro were spamming my phone. 

I was now in front of the infamous building… The Seoul Hybrid Rehabilitation Center. 

I entered and I was immediately greeted by a shocked Haechan. I smiled at the boy who couldn’t even produce a sentence. “YOU'RE OKAY!” he yelled and I laughed as he hugged me tight. “We were convinced you weren’t gonna wake up” he muttered and I ruffled his hair. “Where's Kun?” I asked and he sighed. “Kun cares about you a lot… so does Doyoung but Kun sees you like his little sister–”

“Haechan, what's going on with him?” I asked and he sighed

“He’s planning on sending Wooyoung and San to Jeju’s Rehabilitation Center, as for Yeosang… There's a threat of legal action with his previous owner, Seonghwa is going to be moved to a breeding farm, and Hongjoong is being sent out of Korea '' he explained and I was speechless. 

“W-What?” I asked and he nodded. “Kun right now is out but he’ll be back soon–” “Take me to San,” I said and he shook his head. “Only Kun and Doyoung have the key to get in there… and you're not supposed to be allowed without them knowing,” he said and I smiled. 

“Please, let me see one of them?” I asked and he nodded. “I can take you to Yeosang,” he said and I nodded. He talks to have someone come get me and lead me to Yeosang.

“y/n?” I heard and saw Renjun. I smiled softly and offered a hug. “I'm so glad you're okay! When did you get discharged” he asked and I sighed. “Maybe two hours ago?” I said and he scoffed. “You should be resting–” “I need to see if they're okay” I cut him off and he nodded. 

He leads me around the green code hybrids seeking adoption until we go towards the ones who have not been cleared for adoption. 

“He’s missed you a lot,” he said and I smiled. He opened the curtain and I saw he was asleep. “Jaemin has been trying his best to cheer up him and Wooyoung but it's been hard for them,” he said and I nodded. “I’m only doing this cause I know he won’t hurt you and he is still your hybrid,” he said as he opened the kennel and waited for me to enter. 

I nod and go in to kneel close to his bed. I pet his ears softly as he whined and opened his eyes slightly. “Hello, sleeping beauty,” I said and his ears flattened on his head. 

“Are you real?” he asks as he grabs my hand, tightening it as if I'd disappear. “I’m real, Yeosang,” I said and he sat up looking at me for what felt like a few minutes before he started crying. 

“Please, be real! I…  I miss you” he said as he hugged me tightly. I rubbed it back as he sobbed. “I’m here, I promise,” I said and he pulled away to look at me. I wanted to cry too… so many times I got into my head that he faked everything to hide away from his owner when I should’ve known better. 

His hand cupped my jaw to where my bandages lay. “Does it hurt?” he asked and I smiled. “I’ll heal,” I said and he nodded. 

“I’m sorry for making you adopt them–” “It's not your fault… I got in my own head. Hongjoong is rough around the edges–” “You shouldn’t defend him” he said angrily and I smiled. 

“Yeosang…. He was wronged. I should’ve voiced my thoughts sooner, but he deserves a second chance. What you suggested was sweet… he’s lived tormented by humans so he deserves to feel loved even if he doesn't know how to accept it” I said and his eyes widened. He nods…

“You’re too good to be real. I still don’t believe you're actually here… maybe you're a true angel visiting me in my dreams'' he said and I chuckled. “I don’t have wings or a halo,” I said and he chuckled. 

“Doesn’t mean you aren't an angel to me” he said and I smiled. 

“y/n?” I heard and I looked behind me to see Doyoung. “Did Haechan tell you?” I asked and he nodded. “I-I’m, why didn’t they tell us you were awake?!” he asked and I smiled while looking at Yeosang. “Well, I did wake up two hours ago,” I said and Yeosang laughed. “You should be resting,” he said and I smiled. 

“I know… Doyoung. Can I see San?” I asked and he sighed. “I don’t have the key… Kun has taken charge of seeing Hongjoong and San, I only see them to check up on them” he said and I nodded.

“And… Wooyoung?” I asked and he sighed almost nervously.

“He’s… he needs to see you”

Yeosang was gonna be checked one last time by Doyoung while he led me in front of Wooyoung’s kennel. “Be careful with him… he’s been worse than I've ever seen him” he said and Yeosang didn’t want to let go of my hand. 

“I’ll be here when you're out, I promise,” I said and he didn’t look convinced. “When have I ever lied to you? Or broken a promise?” I asked and he nodded. 

They leave me alone with Wooyoung’s key. I knock before opening the door… It's to tell the hybrid I'm going in. I open it and see that he’s already staring at the door. His eyes widened. 

“y/n?” he said and I noticed how hoarse his voice was. How skinny he was… how tired he looked. “Hello, Woo,” I said, trying my best to offer a happy smile as I felt my vision blur. “You're… alive?” he said, confused and not moving. 

“Missed me?” I said and I sat down on the floor to sit at eye level with him. “I…” he was speechless. I smiled as I hugged him… his tears and sobs broke my heart. The way he tightened his grip on my body and let out cries was the only thing I could focus on. 

He struggled with words as he sobbed. 

“I... I lost- any hope that you were alive!” he let out and I felt a serious ache in my heart. “I’m sorry,” I said and he shook his head as he let go and ghosted his hand on my jaw. “It's not your fault,” he said and I knew what he suggested. 

“It's not his fault either… I should’ve talked about what I was feeling "I said and he said nothing but hugged me. We sat there on the floor with him hugging me in silence.

“Wooyoung '' I heard as I saw Yeosang in his regular clothes and his collar. “Yeosang?” he said as he lifted his head without letting me go to see his friend. “The doctor wants to see you so he can discharge you,” he said and he tightened his grip on me.

“I’ll still be here… you get to be in comfortable clothes and your collar again,” I said and he nodded letting go but did move to leave.

“She’ll still be here,” Yeosang said and Wooyoung nodded. “Can… Can we get food from that street food market?” he asked and I smiled. “Anything you want,” I said and he nodded. He leaves but not without looking at me one last time and giving me a slight smile.

Progress…

“Are you gonna take in those tigers again?” Yeosang asked and I sighed. “I hate how I… I want to give them a second chance. A better chance without me being scared of them… I took them in because they wanted a better life and I didn’t even try like I did with you, Wooyoung, and San” I explain and nod. 

“I don’t trust them” he said and I smiled. “And you have every right to,” I said. 

“y/n?” I heard and I saw Jaemin who looked at me with the biggest smile. “How are you doing?” I said and he chuckled. “You see Yeosang, she’s okay,” he said and Yeosang nodded. “Jaemin? Can you take me to Seonghwa?” I asked and he sighed. “The tigers are gonna be transferred–” “Kun can’t do that, I'm still their owner,” I said and he chuckled. 

“You're the same as ever. Let me take you there then, I'd rather not be sued and in debt even more than I am” he said and I chuckled.

“Yeosang, stay here for Wooyoung,” I said and he shook his head getting ready to argue– “He needs someone here, and I’ll be back,” I said and he nodded reluctantly. 

I followed Jaemin when I noticed he was also a code green hybrid. “Seonghwa, you have a visitor,” Jaemin said as he opened the curtain first. 

He looked at me shocked. 

“You're… I’m sorry! I should’ve stopped Hongjoong, please I-I’m so–” “Seonghwa it isn't your fault '' I said while giving him a smile and he looked at me with wide eyes. 

“I’m sorry for not offering you what I did to my hybrids' ' I said and he looked confused. “You deserve a second chance… so does Hongjoong. Let me make it up to you” I said and he shook his head. 

“I… I should be asking that of you!” he said desperately and I smiled. 

“Let's make it up to each other then!” I said and he was frozen… “I… why do you still want me?” he asked and I shrugged. “You’re a sweet hybrid… a farm doesn’t suit you at all,” I said and I could see tears forming in his eyes.

“I… I really am sorry I wasn't–” “It's not your fault, you… were the sweetest. You tried so hard to earn a place with me and I know you deserve it. So I'm sorry for letting Hongjoong’s words get into my head, I really do think you deserve better Seonghwa '' I said and he was silent. 

“Do you accept me?” I asked and he smiled softly. 

“If you’ll take me” 

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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[dynamightsfave]

bakugo katsuki—interviews

bakugo katsuki fucking hates interviews. in every shape and form. public conferences? "i did my fucking job. the building crashed down because the base sucked ass. that's not my fucking fault" one on one interviews? "why the fuck do they have so many damn questions about my methods? let them try and do what i do!" talk shows? "if you're not gonna ask me about my job, i don't know what the hell i’m doing here, my personal life is my goddamn business. also, if i wanted comedy i’d go to the fucking circus, at least the clowns wear their actual uniform instead of shitty suits"

safe to say, dynamight is every interviewer's nightmare. he's a wonderful and attentive person off camera (he’s still an asshole, but a nicer one), but when you start asking him questions and place a camera on his face, the brass defensiveness, one of the things that lingers from his stubborn teenage years, shines through. that and that mouth that curses more than a sailor in their golden years ever has. there's offers to take him of course, being in the top ten heroes ranking of not only japan, but the whole world. he's mostly partnered up in these interviews, so there's someone to lead the talking and answer for him when he doesn't want to give into "the stupidest fucking question he's had the misfortune to hear". 

red riot and shoto are the ones that are usually designated as his babysitters, but other old classmates have appeared onscreen with him as well. even deku, now a teacher, has made special features. but there's never much demand for an individual interview with pro hero dynamight, and if there ever is, bakugo usually rejects them without looking much into it.

which is why, his secretary was very confused when the mention of a last attempt at a talk show made his boss perk up rather than frown instantly. his lip didn’t instantly curl with a groan and his red irises didn’t meet the back of his skull. instead, he curiously eyed the schedule placed in front of him, and gave a curt nod in thanks when he was done. ryu developed a sense of uneasiness that took over his system. surely that was a sign of the end of the world. but he couldn’t really say anything, pinky and chargebolt recommended the interviewer and swore it would go well. maybe they were right? they needed it too, dynamight hadn't appeared on many public events lately. so there's that, now he just had to pray bakugo didn’t fuck it up.

and that brings us to right now, with dynamight taking a seat in front of you and the public’s applause dimming. the tension that fills the air lingers in the audience, and for once, bakugo and his interviewer seem to be completely at ease. ryu can’t help to think to himself that this is yet another sign that the world is about to end, and he wonders if he should call up his family to say a final goodbye. for now, maybe it’s better he focuses on what’s in front of him.

"great explosion murder god dynamight!" you smile at him, as if he was a friend you’re glad to see again, "so glad you could make it!"

you have that magnetism that makes every guest comfortable around you, familiarity being the base of your show. it’s a big part of why it became so popular, the charming host that interacts with their audience and speaks their mind in such an easy way.

katsuki smirks, chest a bit puffed and fingers drumming the armrest.

"sort of didn’t have a goddamn choice, did i?" while his response only makes the people watching tense more, you only chuckle, nodding as if you understood like nobody else.

"we’re our managers’ puppets aren’t we? either way, wonderful to have you," and goddammit, you never sound insincere, "these days it’s hard to have a minute of great explosion murder god dynamight"

"you know what they say, villains don’t rest. and if they don’t rest that just means us heroes have to work twice as hard as them" did he just answer without cursing? oh the world definitely ends today.

bakugo maintains eye contact with you while he lounges on his seat like he owns the place. he’s made hundreds of interviewers and others shrink with that attitude of his, but from the looks of it, you’re not only not one bit bothered by it, but you almost encourage it. your arms flex as you lean in towards him, agreeing with him.

"all right, since i don’t want to waste much of that precious time of yours..." eyes twinkling, you could even say teasing—dare i say flirty—, you tap a small melody onto your notebook with your pen, "let’s dive right in to the questions! promise this won’t be long. first off, i want to solve a doubt i’ve had for some time now"

he arches a brow, accepting the challenge. there’s the same amusement in his eyes that yours have, it sends chills across the room. it’s so weird to see the bakugo katsuki being not mean to someone that isn’t a little kid or a polite fan.

"i’ve said it a couple times now, and i have to admit it’s a bit of a mouthful. “great explosion murder god dynamight”. why that name? how on earth did you come up with it?"

it’s funny. you say it as if it isn’t a mouthful. quite the opposite, it rolls off your tongue like quick, flowing as if it’s escaped a million times, a prayer you know by heart. bakugo rolls his eyes, similar comments follow him practically every day everywhere he goes since he made the name up. he’s built up skin to them, not that they ever bothered him, he’s pretty proud of his hero name. some might say too proud.

"it’s a reflection of everything i am," he winces after a second, "maybe not the murder part."

"i do hear die is one of your favorite words tho"

"yeah well, it’s good to let the emotions out or whatever the hell. i try not to say it as much anymore, people say it’s rude or some shit," his hand makes a fast motion, as if to sweat it off, he really doesn’t give a damn, "anyway, the name’s like that because it had to embody how fucking awesome i am"

"ah, that makes sense," you nod along, not bothered by the curses, "a loud and bright name like your explosions. it does suit you"

at the compliment, the smirk returns to his lips, a small huff with it. he shuffles around to sit higher, now getting an idea of how this interview is going to go. katsuki finds that he doesn’t really mind it, at least the questions are off to a good start. and the host... well let’s just say he likes this one.

"i know, i picked it myself," he states, and you can’t help but laugh at how sure of himself he is. reminds you of a 6-year-old, not a single ounce of doubt in his body about how cool they are.

"would you say it was inspired by something else? maybe a hero you look up to?"

"nah, ‘t was all me," liar.

"i see. a unique name to say the least. but on the topic, is there any hero that you look up to? someone you aspire to be like. other than, i'm sure, best jeanist"

"obviously," he repeats, "but i mean; every kid and their goddamn mother has dreamt of becoming all might, he was n.1 longer than anyone. i’m sort of a basic bitch that way. when i was little i wanted to be like him, so i followed that dream until i made it real. and now i push myself to be as great as he was and more. plus ultra and all that bullshitr"

"wow. sounds like hard work," he grunts in agreement, and you purse your lips, "we all agree all might is a one of the greatest symbols we have, must have been incredible to be able to study under him. you mentioned the school’s motto. can you tell us about that? the ua days?"

katsuki smiles, his eyes drifting away to his hands. you can’t help but think he looks rather handsome, reminiscing his high school.

"in one word: it was fucking insane. he brought a lot of insight about what to expect in the actual field, and how to treat with bystanders—the little motherfuckers—, and he was always pushing us to do our best. he’s the sort of person you just know cares about what he’s doing," he explains, "our homeroom teacher, mr. aizawa was also very much like that, even though he didn’t look it. ua students are lucky when it comes to teachers. but they’re all ungrateful snotty brats"

it’s the first time bakugo katsuki has ever said something nice in public, even if it has some mean side dishes (wouldn’t be something bakugo katsuki said otherwise). at this point, it’s just you two in the room. no lights, no cameras, no audience, not even the questions you’ve jotted down in your notebook. only a conversation between two people. katsuki wonders if it’s a you effect, and he figures it must be, because he’s never as comfortable as he is talking to you. it comes so easy.

you smile, and it takes everything in you to not reach and put your hand on his arm at his words, the reminder of all the people watching in the room and through the cameras a dying reminder in the back of your mind. you like having him here, and you frankly don’t understand why other hosts dread his visits.

"sounds like a wonderful experience. i’ve talked to others from your course and they all speak of it with so much fondness, just like you. even with the hardships you had to endure," you clear your throat, voice dropping to barely a mutter. even the mic strapped to your blouse has trouble picking it up, "but i’m sure you don’t like thinking of them, i know i don’t. so, i know you’ve said all might and eraserhead are big inspirations, but do you have any other people you admire?"

you know you’re pushing your luck. your tone is far too friendly to be considered professional now and he’s not one to be heartfelt on camera. but if you could just get him to confirm what cellophane and shoto said last week... what you just know is the truth, but dynamight is a bit too proud to admit. you can see it in the way he looks away and puffs his cheeks to blow air.

"i mean, obviously, i’m incredibly grateful to best jeanist and edgeshot, they fucking saved my life," his cheeks grow the slightest bit of pink under your intense gaze. he almost chuckles as you nod entranced and edge just a tiny bit closer awaiting for the true answer. he guesses he might as well indulge, so, with a much lower tone, he continues, "and ya know, in class there were others that were pretty good too. not as incredible as i am, but close enough. if i had to pick any, maybe shitty hair and the dumbass deku. i guess"

screw the lights. your smile is blinding. it shines so much bakugo suddenly doesn’t feel like the answer was practically yanked from his throat. this is too much for his rearranged heart.

"that’s funny, they speak pretty highly of you too," you giggle. your eyes clash, and the small smile that forms on his face is instinct, he can’t control it. one, two, three.

"of course they fucking do. they better, else i’ll crush their bodies," he huffs, snapping back to his position before he was gobsmacked by you.

"all right, i’ve just got a couple more questions before we let you go," you get back on track too, despite the heat on the back of your neck, "uhm... oh yeah! well i guess you’ve answered this already, but just in case. you said red riot and deku were people you admired as heroes, i take it they are also the easiest to partner up with? i know pro hero deku is out of commission at the moment, but back when you still worked together"

dynamight actually thinks about this one. he furrows his brows, and his weight shifts on the sofa. he hums as his hand strokes his chin.

"well, it depends on the job. generally, i do like to partner up with them, we understand each other very well, as do everyone form our class. the time we spent training with each other pays off. so yeah, they’re easy to work with. but also, the half ‘n half bastard is quick to respond to what i do, and ponytail is a great strategist when it comes to infiltration or a mission that takes planning. the damn rabbit gets on my nerves a lot, but we make a good team. she should start thinking about retiring though, before she starts dragging me down"

"it’s lovely to hear the heroes of japan are so tight and coordinated. i must say, hearing you praise them is refreshing," your lip gets caught in your teeth in an attempt to stop the growing smirk, but your eyes betray you.

"oi, don’t misinterpret what i’m fucking sayin’. they’re all still pains in my ass, each worse than the last one"

"uh huh... okay, last question. if you weren’t a hero, what would you be?" that takes him aback.

"fuck you mean? i was always gonna be a damn hero. i don’t know. maybe one of those people that handle bombs in the army or some shit like that," he shrugs, but then a beat passes, "a firefighter"

"final answer?" you arch a brow. he grunts an affirmation, "o-kay! well, it’s been a pleasure to have you here, i hope we did not waste much of your time, but you’re free to go now. i appreciate that you didn’t shout"

he chuckles, following your steps as you get up and circle your table to get to him and say goodbye. the audience is clapping for you two, ryu is releasing the breath he’d been holding all throughout the interview, and the camera people are preparing to shut off. you reach him, and just like his smile before, his next actions are pure instinct. even more, they’re almost a routine.

his hand reaches for your waist, and he effortlessly pulls you closer, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. now, in this routine, it’s not common that you tense up. usually, you wrap your arms around him and nuzzle into his chest. you look up to him, eyes wide, and it takes one millisecond for him to realize what he’s done. he curses under his breath, and you laugh.

"welp, there’s that. no more hiding this," the stunned public is so silent they hear your whispers, "see you at home?"

katsuki gives you that low laugh you love, squishes your waist, and nods.

"yeah, see you at home"

ryu dials his family to say his goodbyes as his boss steps off the stage and the audience recovers from the shock. he prays the call gets through before the world suddenly explodes.

luckily, the world doesn’t combust, and he lives to see the heart magazines with your image on their covers and headlines screaming about japan’s favorite talk show’s host and potty mouth’s newly discovered relationship.

[redsrooftopprincess]

Monster

Raphael x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Smut. 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Happy Monsterfucker Pride Month you fucking deviants. 😈 Here's a present.

There are a lot of words that come to mind to the average person upon meeting the Hamato clan. "Thing" is pretty popular, and "Freak" is always a classic, but by far Raphael's least favorite is "Monster."

That one tends to stick around, like a "Hello My Name Is" sticker, even after first meeting. The others have an easier time. Leo's the calm, cool one, Mikey doesn't need any help making friends, and Don's got that cute nerd thing going on, but Raphael is big, quiet, and Close Quarter Combat has left him with more scars than clear skin, making an already ugly situation worse.

So when he was sitting at your desk while you were hanging out one night and a notification popped up on your computer, the word caught his attention.

"What is a... 'Monsterfucker?'"

You're not sure sure if anyone has ever died from asphyxiating Dr. Pepper, but you wonder for a moment if you'll be the first.

When you can once again breathe, you look up at him raising a brow at you, "You good?"

"Yup," you croak out with a nod and a thumbs up, clearing your throat, "good."

He gives you a moment to catch your breath, "So... You gonna answer my question, or...?"

Damn. You were hoping he'd suddenly magically forget that he asked.

You've been holding off on coming clean to the guys about this particular personality quirk. You're conflicted because, while it would do wonders for their self esteem, it would more or less be the equivalent of wearing a big sign around your neck that says "HEY RAPH! I'M INTO YOU!" You're still trying to figure out how to approach him about it, and whether or not doing so would ruin an already amazing friendship.

Apparently, you aren't going to get a choice.

You clear your throat, procrastinating, and looking down at the Halloween coloring book you've been working on so you don't have to meet his eyes, "Well..." You clear your throat again, "... a Teratosexual... or... 'Monsterfucker'... is someone with more... exotic... preferences," you cringe internally.

"Exotic as in...?"

"Exotic as in... non-human." You say, making an attempt at sounding casual, suddenly very focused on the cat you're coloring.

That was not the answer he was expecting.

The longer he's quiet, the louder the heartbeat in your ears.

"So you're... not... into humans." He ventures hesitantly.

"Not generally, no..." You say, still not looking at him. Your face is burning.

"Oh..." He says, sitting back and attempting to process, "So what kind of, uh... monsters, I guess... are you, um..." He can't believe he's actually asking this question.

"Depends," you say, thankfully without your voice squeaking.

"On..."

"On... who they are as a person," you say, "just like anyone."

He's quiet again, and you resist the urge to look up at him. He's running through moment after moment with you in his head. The looks, the touches, the gentle words, all those times he kicked himself for reading too much into things...

You tense as you hear him get up and walk over to your side of the bed. the mattress dips as he sits down beside you, and a hand comes up to still the hand coloring. You look up at him, heart thundering in your ears as his thumb brushes over your wrist.

"Now, I could be way off base," he says softly, "and if I am feel free to tell me and I swear I'll never bring it up again... but sometimes I feel like you and me, we..." He takes a breath, "What are we? Friends? I mean, Donnie's your best friend, but you spend all your time with me, and... um..." He trails off.

"Is that what you want...? Friends...?" You ask, hesitantly. You're talking about it. Everything the two of you have both very purposely avoided talking about. The time, the touches. You're talking about it, making whatever the hell this is real. Which means the next words out of his mouth could either build or break you.

"Honestly, at the risk of possibly ruining the best thing that's ever happened to me... No."

"Honestly," you say, breathless, your heart doing backflips, "me either."

"So... If not friends, then... what do you want?" He asks, holding your gaze.

He watches every one of your reactions closely. Any sign of unease or discomfort and he's going to bail. But there aren't any. He's pulled to you, and he closes what little distance there is, a blush blooms across your cheeks and chest.

"Honestly..." You whisper, "you."

He inhales sharply, and looks down at you in awe for a moment, heart pounding behind his armored chest. Exhaling, he cups your face with his other hand, brushing his thumb over your jaw before sliding it back slightly and tilting your head up to him.

"You sure that this... that I'm... what you want...?" He's vibrating. Everything in him is screaming out to take you. Claim you. You're right here. You're giving yourself to him. Anyone else would have just kissed you by now. But he isn't anyone else, and this isn't exactly a normal situation. He has to be sure.

His soft caress is sending sensations rippling down your arm, and you can barely breathe for the ache in your chest. The night they met, Mikey had been injured. Badly. So badly, that they had to drop in at April and Casey's even knowing there was a stranger there.

He stood in the corner and watched you like a hawk. You were new, and new was dangerous. He watched you jump in to help Donnie with whatever he needed, eyes clear and calculating.

In the moment, you were too focused on making sure D had what he needed to save his brother's life, but the memory set your skin on fire.

"Pretty much since the beginning." You whisper, nodding.

He wastes no more time. You've wanted this as long as he has and that thought sends a surge of heat through his bloodstream. He releases your hand and slides his around your waist, pressing his lips to yours, pulling you into his lap, and as flush against him as he can. He's been dreaming of this since the moment you met.

It feels right. Natural. Like you should have been doing this all along, but the moment the hand against your cheek slides into your hair, gripping it gently, and you can feel the rumble in his chest within your own, any whispers of regret are forgotten.

All too soon, he pulls back, both of you needing a moment to catch your breath.

His forehead pressed to yours, you look up at him curiously when he starts laughing softly.

He beams down at you, "You know, on the list of shit I though was gonna happen... ever..." You smile up at him, laughing gently as well. He looks at you with elated, if not confused, eyes, "You got any idea what you're signing up for."

"Pretty sure, yeah," you grin.

They all tried so hard to be human, but it was the hardest for Raphael. Whether it was a result of his mutation, his wildly inconsistent emotional states, or some combination of the two, he was the closest of the four of them to their primal nature.

That night, and the hulking figure in the corner, like some kind of ancient sentinel watching over his charges, was a memory you had come back to so many times you're pretty sure you could recreate it perfectly, not that you would want to.

You pull back slightly to look at him, and bring your hand up to his face, cupping his cheek. You look down at his lips, brushing your thumb over his scar, you've always wondered what it felt like, "... and I think I've been handling it pretty well, so far." Your eyes meets his like the period at the end of a sentence.

Looking at you as if you were the only thing he's ever really wanted, he presses his lips to yours far less tentatively this time, growling into the kiss.

You rest your hand on the back of his head as he kisses down the curve of your throat, nuzzling against it and leaving traces of himself on you. You don't miss the significance of being marked as His and something warm and grateful fills your chest.

He works his way back to your mouth, kissing you deeply before pulling back. He looks down at you, still in almost disbelief.

"I want to see you..." He says, breathless, running a finger just under the hem of your tank top. He looks down before meeting your eyes once again, and you would shudder if you weren't pinned down by his gaze.

You smile, pulling your shirt over your head, letting it fall to the ground. You had no idea what you thought his reaction would be to finding out everything, but this was way better than you could have hoped. Gooseflesh scatters across your skin, though you're not sure if it's from the change in temperature, or the way his eyes laser focus on on every inch of you. They light your skin on fire, but he doesn't move.

"You're allowed to touch me, Raphael..." you whisper. His eyes shoot up to yours, "I want you to." He inhales sharply, fingers already tingling, he hesitates for just a moment before a calloused hand brushes tentatively over an already hardened nub, making you shiver.

His hand covers your breast and he squeezes gently, the sigh that ghosts from your lips emboldening him.

When he dips his head and captures the other in his mouth, circling with his tongue, the whimper that escapes you as your eyes fall closed is nearly his undoing.

One of your hands rests on the back of his neck, while the other guides his hand lower. As he caresses your waist, his mouth moves to your other breast, giving it the same treatment and leaving your pulse racing.

You can feel the dampness between your legs, and from the way his churr has deepened, it's evident he can smell your arousal. His fingers play at the waistband of your shorts, but no further.

"This doesn't have to go any farther than your comfortable with," you reassure him.

"It's not that, it's just..." His cheeks darken, "I'm not... um..."

"Human?" You venture, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah..." He says before laughing softly, still not entirely able to process that this is happening, "But, I guess... that's not really a problem for you, is it?"

"Nope," you say, offering him a wicked smile which leaves him swallowing hard.

You smirk and reach up to tug at his paldron. "Feeling a little one-sided here, Red," you say looking over all the clothing and equipment he still has on.

He exhales, a permanent smile of disbelief resting in the corner of his mouth. Him. You want him. You climb off of him, laying back on the bed, and he stands. He sheds his gear and clothing as you look on hungrily, reclined on the bed like a God damn empress. His tail twitches. You aren't just letting him have you, you want him right back, and that is doing amazing things for his ego.

As he's removing the last of his clothing, he glances down at your shorts before meeting your gaze with a brow raised in expectation.

You narrow your eyes and smirk, pushing yourself up and standing beside the bed, before pushing your shorts from your hips and letting them slide to the floor. Now it's your turn to look at him expectantly as he tosses his red mask on top of his gear and takes the few steps towards you.

He looks down at you as if you're the most beautiful creature he's ever seen, and if you ask him, you are. With fabric no longer impeding, he is glutting himself on your scent and his head is swimming as it takes everything in him not to drop right there.

Your eyes roam over his body greedily, drinking him in, something you previously could only ever do in secret, and he shivers. You can't help it, you reach up a hand and hesitate for only a moment before placing it on his chest, following the labyrinthine whorls and channels in his plastron. He's cool and hard under your fingertips, and rough in many places where the keratin has been damaged.

"You know what kills me?" You ask softly, fingers tracing a particularly deep scar, "You have absolutely no idea how beautiful you are," you step forward, pressing your lips to the deep groove. You're rewarded with a sharp inhale and the rumble in his chest against your bare skin.

His hand slides around your waist and he pulls you into him as you kiss upward along the length of the scar. Your softness caresses him, and warmth pours through his shell, filling all the parts of him starved for sunlight. A deep hum reverberates inside of him when you reach the divot in the top of his pectoral scute, and kiss the scarred skin just above.

You look up at him, whispering, "Will you let me show you?"

He looks down at you, and he looks terrified. But he nods. He trusts you.

You take his hand and walk to the end of the bed. You close the door to your room, the light flashing in the full length mirror on the back of the door.

"Sit," you say with a gentle squeeze of his hand, leading him to the side of the bed facing the mirror. He does as he's told, and you climb into his lap, also facing the mirror.

You take his large hands in yours and guide him, showing him how you like to be touched. He watches your reactions to every movement closely, and it isn't long before he's confident enough to explore on his own. His fingers trail lightly down your side, following the line of your hip slowly inward. He stills, waiting to see if you're going to stop him from moving forward.

You don't.

He holds your gaze, watching your features change as his fingers slip into your folds. You gasp as he teases you slowly, and it isn't long before you're near trembling.

You're eyes fall closed, and your mouth falls open as one finger finally pushes into your soaked center. You lean back against him, whimpering as his finger curls, brushing against the soft part inside of you, before pulling out and pushing back in. He repeats the action, slowly, and again, slowly. He feels you clench around him, writhing impatiently, and looks up at the mirror.

Flush and trembling in his arms, one hand nearly covers your abdomen, the contrast of your smooth skin and his pebbled scales looking almost intentional, color and texture complimenting each other perfectly. The other continues disappearing inside of you and drawing from you the most exquisitely frustrated sounds. And it's him. He's doing all of it. His oversized, inhuman hands are creating this moment.

There is no other word for it than "beautiful..."

Your lust blown eyes open to meet his as you whimper and twist in his lap. "f-fuck..." he shudders as he drops, gripping you tighter.

The corner of your mouth turns up slightly as you meet his reflection's eyes. Trembling, he angles himself to rub against your sex, coating himself in your slick, pulling a small sound from your throat. You're already so wet and ready, and when you tilt your hips and capture his spade-tipped head, you are very grateful for that.

The burn as you stretch around him is glorious. He's bigger than you were expecting (and you were expecting), and a deep moan is pulled from you as you sink down on him slowly, your eyes falling closed.

You still once he's buried to the hilt, both of you needing a moment to adjust. When you open your eyes, his are still closed. His arms hold you tightly around the waist, and measured, trembling breaths ghost over your shoulder.

He needs a minute. This is new for him and the worst thing he can imagine right now is for this to be over before it starts. You are so soft and warm and tight, and he can feel your heartbeat pulsing in the walls around him, and if he doesn't get some kind of control, he's going to bust right here.

After a few moments, he opens his eyes, meeting yours in the mirror. His fingers find your clit again, and he strokes it slowly, groaning, his head falling back, when you clench around him.

In an involuntary search for friction, your hips rock against his and he gasps, his other hand tightening around your waist, and he's never been more grateful for years of training in meditation.

He breathes heavily for a few moments, and once he feels like he has his bearings, he holds your gaze and tightens his grip on your hips, pulling out of you slowly before pushing back in. You can feel his churr inside you and you shudder as he sheathes himself again, feeling the vibrations of his desire scatter outward from your center, leaving your fingers and toes tingling.

You move together in a slow rhythm, his eyes never leaving the mirror. He's going to remember every single second of this for the rest of his life. Whatever happens next, this is his. This moment. This feeling. He's wanted a lot of things in his life - peace, acceptance, love -, and for this one shining moment, he has all of them. For this once shining moment, he has you.

This beautiful, brilliant goddess of light and mercy is with him, wants him. You are watching him in the mirror as if he is something sacred. Divine. This broken deformation of something that isn't even a man, held in reverence, and he is filled with something indescribable.

His head falls to your shoulder with a deep moan, as a fire ignites inside of him. Not the one he's used to, there is no burning rage. No barely contained fury. This is not the fire of battle, but the fire of a forge.

Red hot iron burns in his veins as years of doubt and insecurity are boiled away. They didn't matter anymore. Every weird, unacceptable mutated turtle thing he had to deal with. Every scream of horror at his terrible visage. Your light. Your heat, is burning it away. Allowing him to make something new. He leans back, lifting you and bucking up into your harder as that heat fills him, and with every thrust, something in him is reshaping itself.

You could see it in his eyes. That fire of creation. And if you thought he was beautiful before... He holds your gaze with open purpose, unsure but ready for anything, pouring that fire into you. The catalyst of his recreation. And for the first time in his life, he feels like maybe he deserves something good.

And, Gods, you felt SO good.

He's transfixed, his hand reaching around to find your clit again, moaning as his mouth descends to your neck and shoulders. Needing to pull more of those exquisite sounds from you. Every one of them ringing through him like a struck anvil.

A smirk turns his lip as he stands, growling, and you brace against the door as he shows no signs of slowing. His large hand comes to cover yours on the door, wrapping around it. Eyes no longer fixed to the mirror, gaze downward, watching the way you stretch around him as he disappears into you, he can feel his release building as your body flexes around him.

The fire roars under your skin as his speed and strength increases, capturing every sight, sound, and scent, and tossing them back into the flames.

You're beyond language at this point, grunting and whimpering with every thrust. You can feel him in every part of you, until there is nothing left in the world but him and the burn of him filling you completely.

You can feel the pressure building as he growls low and sparks shoot up your spine, his hot breath crashing over your shoulders in waves as he is lost to you. He wraps his arm around you, leaning back and pulling you flush against him as his eyes fall shut.

You are consumed by the flames, arching against him with a cry as white fire streaks through you, the pressure breaks, and you are undone. Raphael follows with a roar, gripping you tightly as he buries himself in you. A second wave crashes over you when you feel him spill himself inside of you, your body milking him dry.

Trembling and breathing hard, you sit back and hold each other as you come down together. You meet his eyes in the mirror, and he's looking at you in reverence and gratitude, like you're his own personal miracle.

Because you are.

He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his head in your shoulder and breathes deep, pulling your scent into his lungs as he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty. Glancing up, he watches himself drip out of you, staining the rug below. You are flush and exhausted, but smiling as your heart rate and breathing slow.

After taking a few moments to clean up. You crawl back into bed together. He slips his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

You smile up at him, happy, truly, actually happy, for the first time in... ever? That can't be right. It feels right. All you know is you've never been happy like this.

It won't last. It can't. He's too special. And now he knows he has options. "Just think, when you get bored with me, there's a whole community of people that will also find you hot." you chuckle softly. It was only a matter of time, right? You were nothing special.

His smile disappears.

How could you think...

"Y/N, I don't want anybody else." He says softly, sure.

"Raph, you haven't met anybody else." You counter.

"Fuck anybody else. Everybody else. I got it in one, and I ain't about to question that." He presses his forehead to yours.

You smile at him in patient, loving, disbelief. "Okay, Red."

He raises his head to look at you. "Want me to prove it? Fine. Give me a few years, I'll have you convinced."

This gets him a laugh. "Years?" you really like the sound of that.

You grin up at him. You really, really like the sound of that. But moments later, you cringe hard and start giggling, a clear sign that your brain has interrupted with something ridiculous. "Okay okay okay, I'm gonna say it. I have to say it... I've created a monster."

"If I'm lucky," he says. You look into his eyes as he smiles down at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. "You better be prepared for me not to be able to keep my hands off you," he says with a smirk.

"Y/N..." He groans and covers his face with a pillow while you cackle.

"No wait, see? Now you can't hate that word anymore because it will remind you of sex!" You chirp delightedly.

"You can't possibly be fucking serious right now..." He says, muffled by the pillow.

The next several minutes are spent with you vehemently defending your joke, while, delightfully annoyed, he quietly admits to himself that being a Monster might not be all that bad.

...

Happy Pride Month, my Monster. I love you. ♥️

...

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins

[strongheartneteyam]

Everyone wants him, that was my crime.

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!omatikaya!reader

cw: mostly angst, TRIGGER WARNING for Reader being bullied bad by some Omatikaya girls, the perks of dating a popular boy (irony alert), hurt/comfort, neteyam reassuring Reader, some fluff, a stab in the heart disguised as a fic basically

So, this is just an angsty Neteyam fic inspired by “Slut!” by Taylor to make you guys suffer with me, I guess.

na'vi words: tweng (loincloth), nantang (viperwolf), tanhì (star - term of endearment)

Not proofread.

ᝰ

Love thorns all over this rose

I'll pay the price, you won't

But if I'm all dressed up they might as well be looking at us

And if they call me a slut

You know, it might be worth it for once

“Slut!” (Taylor Swift)

ᝰ

You were dressed in your best tweng, one you had spent a long time making, wearing your best beaded long necklace to cover your breasts and even wearing some flowers to decorate your black, silky hair.

But none of that mattered. They laughed at you. The girls you thought were pretty and just so skilled and… popular. Something that you were never able to be, it didn't matter how hard you tried when you were a teenager. You were now a 22 year old girl, so, being popular did not matter to you anymore but it did not mean that having only one friend and having those girls look funny at you stopped hurting. The harassment did not stop there, it also included pushing you, putting their feet in front of you so you could trip and then pretending they hadn't done anything, saying something smelled bad whenever you were close to them and laughing inside their little group, making you smell your arms and your hair to try and see if you were the one who was smelly, just for the sadistic pleasure of messing with your head. You were a strong girl but stuff like that would bring down even the bravest na'vi female warrior.

“She thinks she's from the Tawkami clan, all dressed with flowers like this.” The girls would mock and laugh as you passed by

Your sad big amber eyes focused on the ground as shame and self doubt covered your body and beat you up from the inside.

Yes, you did love wearing flowers, sometimes wearing them in many different places in your body, on your hair and on necklaces over your breasts, but you never thought it was a bad thing until they pointed it out. It got to a point where you just couldn't take that many comments about your flowers anymore, the ones you used to pick up in the forest with a chest filled with joy. It used to be an incredibly wholesome, spiritual activity for you, but at those following days, you only felt rage and pain when you looked at your flowers. Poor them. It wasn't their fault. They were as pretty as ever. But you decided to tone it down and now you only wore a flower crown most days.

It was hard to relax. You could almost never be at ease when you were walking around the tribe, trying to focus on doing your chores as an Omatikaya, because you never knew when some girl would make a mean comment or just laugh at you, leaving you wondering if you looked weird or walked funny.

You tried to convince yourself that it was worth it, that you would get through it to be with the boy you loved, the one you were promised to and was soon to go through a mateship ritual with in front of the whole clan to bond you two together forevermore.

But it was insanely hard and sometimes it felt like you couldn't breathe.

Being Neteyam Suli's, the Omatikaya tribe heartthrob, mate to be was challenging to say the least. And yes, you knew that you were being bullied because he had chosen you. When it all started, you tried to convince yourself it was all in your head, that there must be another more rational reason for you to be bullied by those girls, that they couldn't be doing all this out of jealousy. It seemed too stupid, childish and… cruel, honestly. But even Neteyam pointed it out to you.

“Don't be sad because of those girls, tanhì. They are mad because you're mine and they wish they were in your place. But I chose you because I saw something in you that I didn't see in any of them. You're always honest, you have a childlike light in your eyes and a pure soul. They got nothing on you and that's why they treat you badly.”

He had told you those words one day when you were crying about being excluded from the girls’ friendship groups in the tribe. Neteyam's words reassured you of his love and made you feel better but the wounds still hurt.

Sometimes, the worst part of you told you to give up on him, that it was too difficult to bear, all those nantang like girls scorching you with their mean eyes every time they saw you walking around holding hands with Neteyam. But after a while, when you could think more rationally, you would think about how it would be unfair to him to do that. So what if those petty girls made you suffer? Making Neteyam suffer because you couldn't be brave enough to deal with that hardship would hurt you way more. Neteyam was worth it, he treated you like a princess, like you were the most beautiful, the most precious thing he had ever laid eyes upon. You'd be damned if you threw a love like that away because of other people's envy.

ᝰ

Taglist:

@luvv4j4ybe11

@criticallybella

@yeosxxx

[shadowdaddies]

Pas de Deux

Azriel x Reader

Summary: As the principal ballerina at Starlight Ballet Theatre, you never expected to enter into a romantic relationship with the Spymaster of the Night Court, or how it would change your life.

Word Count: 2.6k

Based on this ask. 🩶

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of blood

You hissed at the pain of peeling off your pointe shoes, feet bloodied and aching from tonight’s performance. The holiday season leading up to Solstice was always a popular time for the people of Velaris to visit the ballet. As principal dancer of the Starlight Ballet Theatre, you’d been dancing two shows a day during this season, your aching muscles protesting your every step as you bid everyone a good night.

Shoving through the back door, you stumbled into the snowy street. The icy cold against your sore feet sent a jolt of pain through your body, and you stumbled, slipping along the icy cobblestone street. Your feet flew in the air, your back headed for the pavement when strong, warm arms caught you.

You huffed a nervous breath, trying to register what had just happened when you looked up to see the most beautiful male you had ever seen. Hazel eyes focused on you in concern, onyx waves of hair falling in the winged male’s face as he held you.

You blushed under his intense gaze, interrupting the trance the both of you seemed to be in in that moment. Clearing his throat, the male returned your blush as he set you back on your feet.

“Thank you, for that,” you laughed nervously, glancing up through your lashes at the intimidating male before you, his kind eyes at contrast with his guarded demeanor, the dark shadows that seemed to follow him. With a startling realization, you recognized him as the Spymaster of the Night Court.

He cracked a small smile, nodding in acknowledgment. “My name is Azriel. You were wonderful tonight,” he admitted, the blush deepening on his cheeks as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“You watched the show?” you asked, surprised that the famed shadowsinger would visit the ballet.

A small laugh left his lips, a sound more beautiful than any music you had danced to in your life. “I did. I quite enjoy the symphony and the ballet as well.” 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his words, the thought of commanding Azriel’s attention like this. The thought was apparently too distracting, a gasp escaping you as your feet slipped on the ice once more. Azriel’s arm wrapped comfortably around your waist, holding you up as you regained your footing. Only this time, he didn’t let go. 

You allowed Azriel to walk you home, falling into easy conversation as you found his company to be that of a soft breeze, calm and refreshing. 

Months passed as you got to know Azriel better, growing more attached and drawn to his presence every day. You enjoyed the excitement and stories he brought from his role as Spymaster, and he enjoyed your calm, relaxed personality, which always brought him peace after a trying day. You looked forward to seeing his face in the crowd at your shows, those hazel eyes keeping you grounded and secure.

Today was the weekend matinee for the Spring show, and you inhaled a shaky breath - your nerves growing as the time until curtain call shrank. Peering around the curtain, you looked to Azriel’s regular seat towards the front in search of his comforting presence, but your eyes locked with a different pair that made your heartbeat stutter.

The violet eyes of High Lord of the Night Court met yours, Rhysand lounged comfortably in his seat next to a tense looking Azriel. Your High Lord gave you a small, encouraging nod that soothed your nerves slightly. With a curtsy, you hid back behind the curtains, wondering what this could mean. 

Azriel was yet to introduce you to his family, and now was one Hel of a time to do so. The orchestra struck up their tune, drawing you from your spiraling thoughts as they signaled the beginning of the show. 

As the show came to a close, you mentally thanked the Mother that you miraculously made it through the performance without a mistake. What was Azriel thinking, bringing Rhysand here without a warning?

Gritting your teeth as you bandaged your hurting feet, you shrugged on pants and scowled as you stormed out the side door with a huff. Two faces greeted you, once with an amused smile and glittering violet eyes, the other grinding his jaw as Azriel glanced between you and Rhysand, anger and shame written on his face.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you,” Rhysand purred, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as he watched you with a feline grin. “Azriel said that we are going for dinner now?”

A low growl sounded in Azriel’s throat, the spymaster practically shaking in anger, fists clenched at his sides. “I said that we,” he paused, gesturing between you and himself, “were going to dinner, Rhys.”

Rhys seemed completely unbothered by Azriel’s ire, shrugging as he picked a piece of lint from his jacket. “Well, Azriel, as you know, I have important matters to discuss with your lovely lady here.”

Your eyes widened in shock, swallowing as you turned to Azriel. He simply sighed in defeat, sending you an apologetic look. “I am sorry that I didn’t have the opportunity to tell you earlier. Rhys has something to ask of you. But you can say no.” Azriel ground out the last words with a near-threatening tone, looking at Rhys as he spoke them.

Again, Rhys maintained his casual composure as he led you into a small restaurant. The space might have felt cozy, with its small interior and green and gold decoration, but as you looked around to find yourselves the only ones inside, worry twisted in your stomach.

Rhys looked over your shoulder, flashing an impossibly charming smile at the female behind you. “Hello, Sevenda. Thank you again for allowing us to dine here this evening.” 

The woman blushed slightly, nodding as she sang her praises to the High Lord, how grateful she was for the honor to serve him. Plates of food were brought out for all of you, the inviting smell at odds with the unease in your stomach.

Azriel’s hand reached for yours under the table, giving a reassuring squeeze before his focus turned to Rhysand. “Alright Rhys, get on with it. Tell her what you want from her, and we’ll be on our way.”

Rhys breathed out a low chuckle, his posture as casual as ever while he scooped generous helpings of food onto his plate, and yours. He leaned back in his seat, swirling a goblet of wine in his hand, studying you for a brief moment.

“The Night Court would like your assistance with an upcoming meeting of the High Lords,” he drawled, carefully watching your reaction. You were frozen in your chair, mind reeling with the possibilities of what place you would have in a High Lords’ meeting.

Rhys continued, setting down his drink as his tone shifted to one more serious. “I will leave it to Azriel’s discretion to fill you in on any details that I decide to leave out of my proposition, but I would like to use your extraordinary talent. You are, arguably, the most talented dancer in Prythian, and I need someone to provide a... distraction, at a gathering soon in the Day Court.”

You nodded, willing your heart to calm as you tried to focus on Rhysand’s words. “A distraction?” you repeated.

The High Lord nodded, taking a sip of his wine. He set it down, swirling his finger along the edge of the glass as he continued. “If you would agree to be the evening’s entertainment for a night, I believe that your talent would captivate our guests while we attend to... other responsibilities.” 

That didn’t sound terrible. It would be considered an honor by many to be able to perform for all the High Lords and Ladies, but the unusual request still made you uncertain. 

You swirled your own wine glass by the stem, making a show of contemplating his proposal. “And why me? Surely, there are many other possible entertainers, or forms of distraction,” you mused.

Rhys gave you a conspiratorial smirk, eyes shining with approval at your questioning. Leaning back in his seat, the male crossed his arms as he nodded to the Spymaster next to you. “Simple. Azriel trusts you. I have seen your skill, how captivating you can be, and that appeals to the person we need to distract. You are the best option for us to accomplish our goal without rousing suspicion. And you are one of very few whom my spymaster trusts.”

Azriel’s shadows swirled protectively around you, the tension visible in his shoulders as the male merely nodded. Turning to you, Azriel held your hand tightly in his. “Please do not feel pressured at all. You do not need to do anything that you do not want to.”

Azriel’s words and the tenderness with which he spoke them were all you needed to hear. Turning to Rhys, you gave a firm nod. “I’m in.”

Two days later, you found yourself in a private room at the Day Court Palace, slipping on your shoes as Azriel paced anxiously by the door. 

“Beron will be seated front and center during your performance. The Autumn Court has an affinity for dance, so he should be especially interested in you.” Azriel practically growled those last words, his temper rising at the mere mention of the High Lord of Autumn. 

Hazel eyes turned towards you, long legs striding towards where you sat on the floor. Azriel crouched down, a scarred hand brushing the side of your cheek, his soft touch at odds with the visible tension he carried. “You just need to distract Beron long enough for Eris to leave the room unnoticed so that he can meet Cassian for the exchange.”

You nodded, giving Azriel an encouraging smile as he helped you to your feet. “I will never let anyone harm you,” he swore, his voice sharp enough that he might as well have carved the promise in stone. 

You leaned up, kissing him softly as you swore, “I’ll be fine.” A knock sounded on the door, interrupting the moment as Rhysand and Feyre passed through the threshold. 

“Are you ready?” Rhys asked, the pure authority in his tone as he addressed you so different from how he’d been the night you met. Smoothing your skirts, you gestured for him to lead the way.

The setup was simple, but the semicircle of chairs in which the High Lords and Ladies were seated so close to you had your heart pumping. Taking your spot on the dance floor in front of them, you gave Beron a shy, alluring smile as you curtsied.

The orchestra began to play, and your body moved effortlessly to the music. Soft wisps of air twirled with you, giving you comfort that Azriel was close by and watching. Your flowing layers of skirts twirled through the air, flaring out like blooming flower petals as you glowed underneath the faelights. 

The entire room was enraptured by your grace, the siren call of your dance. The musical crescendo built, and with it so did your movements, tears building in the eyes of many in the room as you embodied the emotions of the music through movement. 

You had not even noticed Eris’s departure, a realization that brought a slight smile to your face as the plan seemed to be working. Then the violinist struck a wrong chord, the musicians suddenly in disarray as the melody was lost to the wind. 

You continued to push through, dancing in the silence, but as the audience turned to see what was amiss in the orchestra, the air quickly grew thick with tension. Before you could blink, fire encased your ankles, your wrists, your neck, restraining you in place on the floor.

Beron appeared in front of you, a curious look on his face, as the fire grew hotter around your neck. “Would you happen to know where my son is, Little Diversion?” 

Tears stung your eyes at the burn only for a moment before a blast of blue light knocked Beron halfway across the room. 

“Do not touch my mate,” Azriel growled, siphons glowing as he stalked towards the High Lord. You hardly had time to register Az’s words before an Autumn Court guard stepped out from the side, drawing his sword as it cut through the air towards Azriel.

Finding the slit in your skirt, you drew a throwing knife, piercing directly through the center of the male’s wrist. He dropped his sword with a hiss, the male crumbling to the ground as Azriel turned. The Illyrian’s mouth was ajar as he watched you remove another knife from your thigh holster, flicking it into the throat of another approaching guard. 

Hysteria broke out, High Lords and Ladies fighting alongside their allies, Prythian’s political leaders at each others’ throats in front of your eyes. You picked up the sword from the male you’d cut down, standing back to back with Azriel as you battled off the remaining attackers.

As you tried to catch your breath, strong hands spun you around, Azriel’s eyes intense as they searched your blood-stained outfit for any signs of damage. You let the sword drop to the ground - blood splattering as it clinked against the cold floor - and wrapped your arms around Azriel as you pulled him in for a kiss. 

He held you there, arms wound tightly around you as Azriel rested his forehead against yours. “When did you learn to fight like that?” he breathed.

Laughing softly against his lips, you gave him an incredulous look. “You think I could spend my life with a Spymaster without learning how to defend myself?”

Azriel gasped at your words, drawing back as his brow narrowed in confusion. “You knew we were mates?”

You shook your head, the peacefulness you felt at odds with the chaos surrounding you. “I didn’t have to know that we were mates, to know that I am yours. Always.”

Azriel’s eyes lined with tears, your mate pulling you in for another heated kiss when the sound of a throat clearing beside you interrupted the moment. 

Rhysand stood there with Helion, the two High Lords of Day and Night exuding an intimidating amount of power before you. 

“Beron did initiate an attack during an agreed time of peace by his interruption during this meeting, so he will be dealt with accordingly,” Helion announced, granting Azriel a small, reassuring nod. 

“Cassian confirmed the missive exchange went smoothly,” Rhys paused, looking around the wreckage of the room. “Well, it went smoothly on their end.” Violet eyes flicked to you, approval and kindness clear within them. Rhys took Feyre’s hand, his other coming to lightly clap your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper, “good night, sister.”

You blushed, bidding Rhys and Feyre good night before turning back to Helion and Azriel. Helion took your hand in his, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles, his eyes sparkling. “Azriel knows where my room is, if the two of you find yourselves in need... of anything,” he purred with a wink before striding through the doors.

Azriel groaned, pulling you into his chest. Laying your head there, you allowed yourself to savor his warmth for a moment before taking his hand in yours. With a sly smile, you guided Az out the door. Gesturing to your soiled attire, you winked at Azriel. “I think I could use a bath, if you care to join me, mate.”

In a blink, Azriel had scooped you up bridal style, peppering kisses to your face while he raced to the bath. You laughed, clinging tightly to him as you looked forward to your life with the Spymaster.

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: world's cutest couple | kgv

summary | in the middle of lunch with his friends, gyuvin gets a text from your best friend saying that he needs to come to the library because you’re sobbing uncontrollably and she can’t get you to stop.

genre | kim gyuvin x gn!reader, fluff, university!au, there’s like fake angst

wc | 1.1k

a/n: hehe heeee heheeheeee

ft kep1 youngeun

USUALLY, when Gyuvin ate with friends, he tended to ignore his phone until the meal was over. He felt like it was rude to ignore his friends for the sake of whatever was happening online, and whatever people had to say to him could wait.

That didn’t mean he didn’t check his notifications, though. If there was an emergency, he would miss it, and that likely wouldn’t end well.

So, when he gets a text from Youngeun, your best friend, who never texted him, he automatically assumes the worst. As far as he was aware, the two of you were supposedly sitting in the library, studying for the test you had in your general psychology class. You were supposed to be there all day, no exceptions, even when he’d begged you to come hang out with him that night.

Obviously, he was going to read it. If Youngeun was texting him, something was happening.

‘Hey man,’ the text began, ‘hope I’m not interrupting anything.’

The typing bubble popped up in the corner of Gyuvin’s screen, and he started to filter out whatever Ricky and Matthew were talking about in favor of focusing on whatever Youngeun was about to tell him. ‘Your partner is crying uncontrollably in this study room and I can’t get them to stop. Please help. 3rd floor room 316.’

Immediately assuming the worst, Gyuvin hopped up from his chair, slinging his jacket over his shoulders. Ricky and Matthew looked up at them, halting their conversation when Gyuvin went to pick up his bag.

“What’s up?” Ricky asked, tilting his head. “Everything good?”

“Something’s up with [First],” Gyuvin replied, pushing his chair in. “Gonna go see what’s up. Sorry, guys.”

“No problem, man,” Matthew replied, shaking his head. “Hope everything’s okay.”

With that, he was half-jogging out of the dining hall, cringing at the temperature change when he walked outside. There was a light breeze that accompanied the setting sun, and he wasn’t wearing enough layers to fight off the chill it brought.

As he fast-walked to the library, Gyuvin’s mind began to wander from bad to worse, wondering what in the world could’ve gotten you going. You hadn’t turned in any big essays recently, nor had you applied for an internship that you could’ve been rejected by—so, he started to fear the worst. Maybe your cat at home, who he hadn’t been able to meet yet, had died, or maybe your childhood friend was diagnosed with cancer—it had to be something not good.

Gyuvin was so stressed out that he bypassed the elevator, walking straight towards the awful stairs that would lead him to the third floor. He practically ran up them, skipping two or three stairs at a time as his heart practically pounded out of his chest. When he finally made it to the room Youngeun said you were in, he threw the door open, panting from the amount of ground he’d covered in maybe 3 minutes.

Youngeun was sitting across from you at a table, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed. She looked exasperated, a vein practically popping from her forehead. You, on the other hand, were face down on the desk, obviously crying from the way you jerked every couple of seconds.

Gyuvin wasted no time in walking in, dropping his bag next to the door and rushing towards you. He knelt next to you so his head would be level with yours, resting a hand on your back as comfortingly as possible.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, to which you sat up. Your face was red and puffy and tears were bunched in your eyes, dripping down your face and onto your shirt. Before Gyvuin could do anything else, you shoved your phone into his face.

On the screen was an Instagram post, from a popular account among students at your university. They posted anonymous comments from the student body, most of which were positive, and a vast majority were quite funny. He’d followed it himself, but he wasn’t exactly checking every single post they made.

“What—what’s this?”

“Read it,” you choked out, slamming your head down on the desk again. Gyuvin grabbed the phone from your hands, scanning over the black text in front of him.

‘There’s a couple I always see around campus that are soooo cute. Like, seriously, the world’s cutest couple. They’re campus celebrities to my friends and me, and we (not creepily) take pictures every time we see them together. The next slide is our favorite picture of them.’

Curious, Gyvuin swiped, and a small gasp escaped from his lips. It was a picture of the two of you from about two months ago, during a small university festival that had become a tradition over the years. Quite frankly, it was a very beautiful picture of the two of you—and a moment he was glad to see someone captured. Ricky had picked up a water gun and began spraying both of you, to which Gyuvin had picked you up to use you as a shield. You were laughing and so was he, and all he could think about was how beautiful you looked in the picture.

Then, when you let out a dejected sob, he realized what he was here for. “You’re crying over this?” he asked. You picked yourself up from the table again, sniffling and looking at him with the saddest eyes he’d ever seen.

“They called us the cutest couple in the world, Gyuvin,” you said. The moment you got that out, you hiccuped, holding back another loud cry. “And the picture. Oh my god, the picture.”

“It’s a nice picture,” he agreed, putting his hands on your cheeks. “I’m glad you’re so moved by the truth, honey.”

Youngeun snorted, spinning her pen in her hand. “Yeah, the truth. Sure.”

Gyuvin would have to comment and ask for them to send him the picture later. For now, though, he had to stop your crying and make sure you didn’t waste a bunch of your “precious” study time crying over something that he already knew.

thank you for reading !

tags: @happysmileybee @wtfhyuck

[icypenguin]

Ok so can I request the sbg x wony reader but instead of SHES THE ONE AND ONLY SEO CHANGBIN FROM SKZ (she can beat ass.. and can pick ben with one arm :3

⋆ ˚｡ Pretty Phantom Breaker ⋆౨ৎ˚

cw: limping, running away from phantoms, thoughts of broken bones (that’s all i guess??)

a/n: HIHIHI AND OFCCC! but.. i dunno if this is how u expected T-T i hope i got your idea right and personalities right too.. i’m not really in that side of socials BUT DW DW GOTCHUUU anyway this is a platonic relationship with the sbg gang!!! hope you like itttt!

divider credits: @iluvrei @dollywons

to everyone’s eyes, you were known to be a clean, healthy, pretty and feminine girl. everyone always appreciate you for that. In school or literally anywhere, you’re always the one who soreads positive energy, and that’s what the gang loves you about.

you’re always focusing on a healthy life style (even if every night you’re teleported into some other realm) which makes it beneficial for the gang. They sometimes wonder, how can you be so positive even if it sounds like it’s the end for them?

“hey y/n, can you recommend me any blush? I’ve been seeing people use this like.. lisptick blush thing? i dunno what that is.. but it sounds cool!” you and taylor was sitting besides eachother on a bench, waiting for the others to finish class since you finished your work sooner. “ah! rare beauty? yes that’s a popular one nowadays! i do recommend you buying one of it since it comes in many different shade! it’s really useful, you can use it as a gloss and a blush!” picking up your phone to show the pictures of the different shade, the others were finally back.

“ughh i hate maths.. so booringgg…” complained aiden as he rolled his eyes. “well.. i suggest you to pay more attention in class rather than making paper airplanes” ashlyn stays in a monotone tone while logan, ben, and tyler ignored them.

taylor whispered a “thanks!” before moving on to the next topic, “well, took you guys long enough to finish that 5 kindergarten riddle” she joked while grabbing her bag in action to go home. “if it weren’t for that moron, we would NOT be take this long… burden pfft-“ tyler frowned, not making eye contact with anyone except him. “well- friends stay together right? they wait for eachother!” the others groaned as aiden pulled out this ‘friendship line’.

soon, you all started to walk to the main entrance while chit chatting random stuffs. you noticed aiden got closer, meaning he wanted to ask you something. “y/n, is it true that broccoli are better than sausages?” he stared with a curious look on his face. “well ofcourse, it’s better to eat broccoli everyday than to eat sausages everyday..” you smiled and gave him a thumbsup. “awwh man, i love wieners…” hearing that response, you laughed along with taylor whose heard your conversation.

! time skip phantom realm !

somehow, the phantoms were chasing the whole gang… thanks to aiden’s loud shout i guess.. “ugh did you really have to scream that loud to safe your darling ashlyn!?” tyler seemed irritated by how aiden was acting. “it’s called friendship okay!? just like how you protect taylor-“ he fired back the comment back to tyler and it kept going on and on. their bickering kept on continuing until- “wait- ben!? where’s ben!?” taylor was looking around, checking everyone but seeing no sign of ben near them. suddenly, everyone’s attention has been spotlighted to ben, who was in the back, trying to catch up.

when you studied closer to see ben’s anatomy, you noticed he was limping. soon, everyone noticed this wound of ben and aiden, who does not think first, decided to run back to ben “ah-! ben- wait for me-!”

ofcourse he tried to help ben but only ended up with them walking slower. as the phantoms were getting closer and everyone’s heart was beating as fast as ever, hoping they would be safe, you did what you had to did. rushing towards both men who’s being chased by a bunch of phantoms, you lifted them one in each of your arm. you didn’t really like to show this side of you, but what choices are there?

ofcourse, they were shocked to see how the feminine you- is able to carry 2 guys in a blink of an eye. “whatthe-“ tyler exclaimed in a shocked and unbelievable tone, while the others just stare at you speechless.

meanwhile ben and aiden was taken aback by the sudden lift, aiden adapted quickly and cheered you on “go go go! go y/n!” ben was just giving up his whole body on you and trusted you on his life.

as you rushed forward to the gang, the phantoms were catching speed of you too. but luckily, you catched up to them and you all managed to get into the base or the bus graveyard.

“phew that was rough…” panting while dropping those two men softly on the ground, the others stared at you with wide eyes, suprised by your skill. “what. was. that.” tyler shot back from his thoughts and stared at you. “that was so cool, y/n.. i didn’t know you can do that..!” logan admired you while having a happy and amused face. “aww thanks guys… i thought you’ll be weirded by it..” you rubbed the back of your neck while looking down, not used to have compliments by this skill of yours. “no way! you saved their life!” taylor gives you a pat on the back as a supportive sign. too, ashlyn got into the conversation “it’s honestly a relief for all of us…” she handed you a bottle of water for you to finally calm yourself down.

meanwhile the others were all fine, aiden and ben both thanked you before healing ben’s leg that logan thought can be of broken bone. tyler, at the corner, was scoffing. he had a high hope of becoming the strongest one in the group and he even thought he was! but i guess.. more suprises for him?

“aww tylerrr, don’t be so busteddd~” taylor laughed at her brother being to irritated and jelous. “w-what!? i’m not!” he barked back at taylor while having a clear jealous look on his face. “pfft yeah? than it’s no matter if i call you weak?” tyler then started chasing taylor as he wanted revenge.

you felt something tap your shoulder, ashlyn was looking at the corner to a phantom that.. successfully entered the base outta nowhere. “do you think you can break it?” she asked you with full trust.

maybe.. maybe you can be a phantom breaker champion?

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. thankyou for supporting! ୨♡୧

[keii-starz]

garden.

character: idia shroud

summary: you and idia on a cute picnic date in a pretty garden (pre-established relationship)

author's note! : my entry for @cloudcountry 's event!! it's my first time writing for idia, so I hope I wrote him well!!

divider credits to @/saradika

Knock, knock.

“Idia?” you called your lover’s name as you peek in his room, the door slightly open.

“A-aah!” startled, Idia jumped back. But when realizing it was you, he quickly scrambled, organizing his room to make it look the least bit presentable, even if you only stuck your head in for a peek. “ Y/N? W-what brings you here?” He asked with a stutter.

“Oh, well…I was wondering..” Hesitant on asking, you made a few pauses in our sentences. (I guess I should just hurry up and say it…) “..if you’d like to go somewhere with me? I promise you won’t regret it! I know you don’t like going out much…”

He was wondering why you seemed so hesitant on asking a simple question, but it was clear you were just trying to be considerate of him. But if it’s with you, he could go anywhere, even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone, because he knows you would be there with him.

“Sure.”

Your face lit up with a smile at his response. You shout out excitedly, “Follow me!”

___________________

Holding hands, you and Idia head toward what looks to be a beautiful garden with a variety of flowers deep beyond the mountains. There, you and your lover gaze at the ethereally beautiful, lovely sight of the sky and flowers. Perhaps you picked this time of day on purpose.

“Do you like it, Idia? Jade showed me this place saying that I could use it for a date with you if I’m able to convince you to come with me. He never mentioned who made this garden, though…”

“Uh, yeah…I like it. It’s very..nice. I didn’t know there was a place like this out here in the mountains. Must mean it was made this year…or something.” Then, Idia sneaks a few glances at what you have held in your hand.  He saw it while you were both walking up the mountain and towards the garden. A picnic basket…Were you planning to have a picnic? “Is that a picnic basket in your hand? Are we having a picnic here?” Idia didn’t hate the thought of having a picnic with you, but he’d much prefer playing games with you in his room than being outside, even if it’s at such a pretty place.

You grinned. “Not just a picnic!” You pull a few things out of the basket. First, you lay a large blanket over a patch of grass not too far from the flowers. Then, you pulled a gaming console, a popular board game, a few of Idia’s favorite manga (which also happen to be your favorite), and some containers full of food, plus some water bottles and silverware to eat with. “I thought you’d enjoy having these over a regular picnic date.”

Idia gasped over the sight of it all. He was amazed that you knew him so well and went so far as to consider his preferences for this date. Not only that, but he found it quite literally jaw-dropping that you were able to fit all that inside a single picnic basket. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but smile at this pleasant surprise.

“This-this is awesome!!!”

You smile pleasantly at Idia’s reaction. “I’m…really glad you like it! Are you hungry?”

“Yeah…Can we eat now? It’s been a while since I’ve had some of your cooking..”

“Alright!”

While you unpack the food, Idia flips through one of the manga with a smile on his face, letting out a few laughs and chuckles.

After you and Idia finish eating, he reaches out for the board game and starts to set up the game for the both of you to play.

“Idia.” You call out to your lover while grinning ear-to-ear, as if you have some mischievous plan worked up your sleeve.

“Yeah?” He asks, with his eyes focused on the board game pieces.

“I love you.”

Then, Idia’s face turns red and his hair pink. You can tell how flustered he is. “I-I love you too..” He says while looking away. Giggling, you place your hand in his, clutching it tightly.

taglist: @eynnwwyjth @twistwonderlanddevotee @i-like-forgs @flmer @fukashiin @dove-da-birb @ruggiethethuggie @krenenbaker @rayisalive @hisui-dreamer @lemonchuu @red-viewe @angelhairpastawithherbs @honeychips-milo @asherenjoysart @l7k-a

[genderqueerdykes]

Is there a difference between terms 'transgender' and 'transsexual'?/gen

I've seen the argument that they mean the same, but the latter is older and now it can be considered 'incorrect' because it looks like it's a name of sexual orientation. But recently I've seen some post re: sex≠gender and someone said they prefer to use the term transsexual because it refers to changing their sex. So is there a difference? And it made me wonder, if someone is trans but didn't start medical transition, are they transsexual? (I think yes. Otherwise it'd be transmedicalism which is bad. It's 2am and I'm overthinking, but it's a genuine question)

good question!

some people do not make a distinction, and some people do! it depends on the individual, many people are okay with using them interchangeably, many people make a distinction and choose one or the other. some people identify as both!

"transsexual" was the first term coined for our community alongside "transvestite". at the time, there was not much clinical distinction between sex and gender, however, a Jewish physician and sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld was extremely compassionate when he heard his queer patients expressing extreme guilt for how they felt about themselves and their identities. he felt an especially strong passion for his trans patients.

this was during WWII in Nazi Germany. Magnus went on to perform the first successful sex reassignment surgery that we know of in modern history. he went on to pioneer the techniques that we have today, however, a lot of it was lost when the Nazis decided to torch the facility at which a lot of his research was being kept. a lot of it still lives on today. Magnus did not care so much about whether or not his patients felt like their sex or gender was the issue, he just wanted them to feel like themselves- if they wanted to undergo medical procedures for gender affirming care, that's all he needed to know

transsexual was used in common vernacular for quite some time before the term transgender sprouted a few decades later and rose to popularity in the 90s, when people started speaking about the societal and biological differences between and implications of sex and gender. when this became a conversation that was common place, many people began advocating that they felt that their gender was what their focus was on, not their biological sex. many people wanted to advocate for a more diverse range of trans experiences that weren't focused on the body, but what the person felt inside. many trans people do not want to medically or even socially transition, so people wanted to advocate for those as well as those who do transition medically

ultimately transgender became more of an umbrella term and stuck with the community moving forward. it can be inaccurate at times, some people identify as transsexual only. some people identify as transgender only. after a while people began shortening to "Trans" in order to become more inclusive and i think that's the best way to approach it. there are many older trans people who call themselves transsexuals when they may be describing a transgender experience, but that's okay. some people never changed their vernacular.

they can mean the same thing- but they also may not to certain people, and both of those are okay. it's best to ask the individual what their experience with the word is and what it means to them if you're ever confused.