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sofiascripts · 5 months ago

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how izuku gets the girl! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

teacher midoriya x reader

izuku midoriya is determined to mend the growing rift between you, desperate to prove how much you mean to him. with the support of his friends, he embarks on a series of grand gestures, each one more elaborate than the last. from awkwardly coordinated serenades to overly complicated surprise plans, his well-intentioned efforts keep falling short. despite their best attempts to help, his friends’ involvement only adds to the chaos. as midoriya stumbles through each attempt, sinking deeper into a mess of his own making, the question remains: will his efforts be enough to win you back?

✎ wc: 8,409... got a lil carried away guys

⤑ tw: ik eri isnt in hs yet but i didnt want to make any oc’s </3 als did not proofread, might proofread tmr morning tho so ;d also for the ending i sweat there was a reason i put him in there and had him say that but i FORGET FUCK so pretend its just cute and makes sense...characters may be ooc btw...

⤑ guess whos BACK (me) time to update that band one and this is inspired by how you get the girl by taylor swift! and gsonys izuku art on insta ;p

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

you were getting ready for bed, the house calm and quiet after a long day. a sudden, urgent knock on the front door startled you, pulling you from your relaxed state. glancing at the clock, you noted the late hour—unexpected visitors were rare at this time.

slipping on a robe, you shuffled to the door, wondering who it could be. as you opened it, your eyes widened in surprise. standing on your doorstep was midoriya, drenched from head to toe. his dress shirt clung to him, almost transparent from the rain, and water pooled at his feet, creating a small puddle on your porch. leaves and twigs were tangled in his usually neat green curls, and some wet strands were stuck to his forehead. his tie hung crookedly, and his dress pants were plastered to his legs, making him look like he had been caught in a torrential downpour.

each step he took made a squelching sound from his soaked socks, adding to the awkwardness of the moment. his breathing was uneven, each inhale a shaky gasp from his run. normally so composed, he now appeared as a soaking, disheveled mess, which was both surprising and oddly endearing.

you couldn’t help but stare, trying to reconcile this soaked figure with the usually neat and controlled midoriya you knew. he raised a trembling hand, his fingers shaking from the cold, and his knock came with an unsteady rhythm.

“izuku? are you insane?” you asked, bewildered.

midoriya, catching his breath, looked at you with a mix of determination and embarrassment. “it’s been a long six weeks,” he stammered. “i was too afraid to tell you what i wanted.”

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

4 weeks earlier.

midoriya sat in the faculty room, a stack of paperwork spread out in front of him. the late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting long, soft shadows across the room. the air was thick with the usual quiet that filled the space during the end of a school day. across from him, aizawa leaned back in his chair, adjusting his scarf with a mix of impatience and concern.

“you’ve got to be tougher on your students, midoriya,” aizawa said, his voice carrying that familiar edge of seriousness. “i’ve seen you let them off too easily. it’s not helping them grow.”

midoriya glanced up from his paperwork, a frown tugging at his brow. “i don’t think i’m being too easy,” he replied, “i'm just trying to create a supportive environment. they need to learn, but they also need to feel encouraged.”

aizawa sighed, rolling his eyes slightly as he straightened in his chair. “you can be supportive without coddling them, midoriya. there’s a balance you need to find. letting them skate by on half efforts isn’t doing them any favors in the long run.”

midoriya bit his lip, mulling over aizawa’s words. before he could respond, the door to the faculty room suddenly burst open with a loud bang, startling both teachers. a group of students rushed in, their faces flushed with a mix of frustration and urgency. they barely stopped, practically tumbling into the room, completely ignoring the large no students allowed sign outside.

“midoriya-sensei, we need to talk!” one of the students blurted out, breathless, their words tumbling over each other in their haste. midoriya’s eyes widened as he recognized the group—some of his own students, including koda and eri. he glanced at aizawa, feeling a mix of embarrassment and concern as he began to sink into his seat, eyes drifting to the ceiling. he could feel aizawa’s silent stare, a reminder that maybe his softer approach wasn’t as effective as he’d hoped.

feeling the tense air from mr. aizawa, the students silently communicated with each other, deciding who should be the first to speak. “ms. y/l/n has been really tough on us during training,” eri spoke up, her voice tinged with concern. “we were hoping you could... calm her down or something?”

midoriya’s expression shifted, confusion evident. “calm her down? i didn’t even realize she was upset.”

aizawa raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “well, maybe you’re just too used to midoriya’s leniency. y/n is an excellent teacher, but she’s always had high standards. maybe you’re all just not used to it.”

as if on cue, the door to the faculty room creaked open again, and you walked in. your usual warmth seemed to fill the room, and you greeted everyone with your signature cheerfulness. “hello, everyone!” you called out, your voice bright and welcoming.

but the moment your gaze landed on midoriya, your expression shifted. the smile that had lit up your face moments before disappeared, replaced by a look of dismissiveness. “mr. midoriya” you greeted him curtly, your tone clipped and formal. there was no warmth, no friendliness—just a cold acknowledgment of his presence.

midoriya felt his heart drop. you didn’t linger in the room like you normally would, chatting with the other teachers or sharing a laugh. instead, you turned on your heel and walked out just as abruptly as you had entered, leaving the room in a stunned, almost eerie silence.

the students exchanged nervous glances, their eyes wide with surprise. a low murmur spread through the group as they tried to make sense of what they had just witnessed.

“okay, that was definitely weird,” one of the students finally said, breaking the awkward silence that had settled in. “she’s usually so friendly with you, sensei.”

midoriya’s brow furrowed deeply as the pieces slowly began to fall into place in his mind. “yeah, that was strange,” he muttered under his breath, his voice quieter now as he stared at the door you’d just exited through. “she’s been distant lately, hasn’t she?” he continued, still muttering to himself, lost in thought. unconsciously, he reached up to rub the back of his neck, a habit of his when he was anxious. though he wasn’t speaking loudly, it was enough to catch the attention of everyone in the room.

the room grew quieter as the students slowly began to file out, their chatter subdued and filled with concerned whispers. but midoriya didn’t notice. he was too busy muttering quietly to himself, replaying each interaction with you in his mind, trying to piece together what had gone wrong.

aizawa narrowed his eyes as he watched midoriya. even he had to admit that your sudden shift in demeanor was odd. just as he was about to call out to midoriya, the younger hero suddenly stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“i’ve got to talk to her,” midoriya mumbled, more to himself than anyone else, but it was loud enough for aizawa to hear. aizawa’s eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. it wasn’t often he saw midoriya this shaken, especially over something non-hero related.

without waiting for a response, midoriya strode toward the door, his footsteps quick and determined. aizawa watched him go, releasing a quiet sigh as the door clicked shut behind him. the room was left in a contemplative silence, the weight of midoriya’s resolve lingering in the air.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

later that day, during lunch, midoriya gathered his courage and approached you as you sat alone at a corner table. he offered a hopeful smile, trying to bridge the growing gap between you.

“hey, y/l/n,” he began, his voice warm and sincere. “want to join me for lunch? it’s been a while, and i thought we could catch up.” he kept his tone light, hoping to ease whatever tension had built up between you.

you glanced up briefly, your expression guarded. the usual warmth that lit up your face when you saw him was gone, replaced with something distant. “no, thank you,” you muttered quietly, turning back to your meal, effectively cutting off the conversation. midoriya stood there for a moment, his smile faltering as your rejection hit harder than he’d anticipated.

from a nearby table, a group of students watched the exchange with bated breath. as soon as midoriya walked away, they quickly gathered around him, their concern obvious.

“what did you do?” eri asked, her voice laced with alarm.

midoriya ran a hand through his hair, his frustration and confusion evident. “i don’t know! i really don’t,” he replied, exasperated. “i thought we were on good terms. i didn’t mean to upset her.”

the students exchanged worried glances. “well, you’ve definitely done something,” koda said, crossing his arms. “you need to fix this.”

midoriya sighed, pulling out his phone to message his friends. as he walked away, his thoughts whirled with memories of your interactions over the past few weeks—every clipped response, every avoided glance, every time you’d left a room just as he’d entered. he replayed those moments over and over in his mind, trying to pinpoint when things had started going wrong—how had he not noticed something was off in the first place? when had it gotten this bad?

“was it something i said? or maybe something i didn’t say? did i miss something important?” he mumbled to himself, oblivious to the awkward stares he was receiving from the students nearby.

the students exchanged uneasy glances. they were used to midoriya talking to himself when he was deep in thought, but this time, it felt different—more personal, more troubling.

aizawa, who had been observing from a distance, narrowed his eyes slightly. he could see midoriya spiraling, lost in his thoughts. with a resigned sigh, he cleared his throat, snapping midoriya out of his daze.

“midoriya,” aizawa called out, his tone calm but firm, “whatever’s going on, you need to address it directly. stop overthinking and talk to her. otherwise, it’s just going to get worse.”

midoriya blinked, realizing that he’d been muttering to himself in front of everyone. embarrassment colored his cheeks as he looked around at the concerned faces staring back at him. “you’re right,” he said, his voice more resolute now. “i need to talk to her. i have to find out what’s going on and fix it.”

with a determined nod, midoriya set off to figure out what had gone wrong.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

midoriya decided to meet with his friends to discuss the situation, hoping their insights could help him understand what had gone wrong with you and how to fix it. he figured that since they had all spent time together, they might have noticed something he missed. they settled into a cozy corner of a café, their faces reflected a mix of concern and curiosity.

todoroki raised an eyebrow, studying midoriya closely. “you haven’t figured it out yet?”

midoriya shook his head vigorously, frustration evident. “no clue. i didn’t even notice that something was wrong. my students pointed it out.”

kirishima, usually cheerful, took on a serious tone. “this is a big deal. you don’t know what’s upsetting her or how long she’s been feeling this way. could be serious.”

midoriya nodded, determination clear in his features. “i’ll talk to her. i just need to understand what went wrong so i can make it right.”

kaminari, who had been quietly listening, leaned forward. “just talking to her isn’t going to cut it. if you really messed up, you need to go big.”

midoriya frowned slightly. “yeah, but what if the grand gesture is too much?”

“better to go overboard than underboard,” kirishima said firmly. “if she’s really upset, a grand gesture might show her how much you care. it’s about being a man and showing that you’re genuinely sorry.”

todoroki nodded in agreement. “think of something meaningful. show her how much you value her.”

“no half-assed attempts,” bakugou added, his tone serious. “if you’re going to do this, make it count.”

midoriya’s resolve strengthened with each piece of advice. “i’ll come up with something that truly shows how much she means to me. i want to make sure she knows i’m serious about fixing this.”

his friends exchanged approving glances, satisfied with midoriya’s determination. as they continued brainstorming ideas, the café buzzed with the energy of their discussion. midoriya’s mind raced with possibilities, each more elaborate and heartfelt than the last. he knew he had to pull out all the stops to make things right with you, and he was ready to put everything he had into it. the grand gestures was the way to go, and he was determined to make it unforgettable.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

the first idea had come from aoyama. somehow, word had spread through their old class about midoriya’s dilemma, and each of them had ideas on how to help. aoyama, being aoyama, suggested something extravagant.

“a grand piece of art!” aoyama had said with flair. “something beautiful that she can walk through and admire. she’ll be swept off her feet!”

with todoroki’s help, they crafted an elaborate display of ice sculptures—each one representing something meaningful to you. the sculptures were delicate, intricate depictions of your favorite things: a particular book you loved, a scene from a memory they shared, and even a tiny version of your favorite flower.

as midoriya stood beside todoroki, his face glowed with anticipation. “thank you so much for helping with this,” midoriya said, his voice brimming with gratitude. “i really appreciate it.”

todoroki nodded, though he seemed slightly uneasy. “no problem. i’m sure she’ll love it.”

when you arrived, you looked hesitant but curious. midoriya guided you forward with a flourish, eager to see your reaction. but as you came into view, the excitement drained from his face.

instead of a beautiful display, you were met with a scene of puddles and half-melted ice sculptures. the intricate figures that todoroki had so carefully crafted were now just watery blobs.

midoriya stood by your side, looking disheveled and panicked. he glanced around in confusion, noticing that the ice was melting faster than it should have. “but... it’s winter,” he muttered, his brow furrowing.

you stared at the mess, disappointment and frustration washing over you. “what is this?” you asked, your voice tight with irritation.

midoriya, clearly distressed and flustered, stammered, “i thought it would be something special, but—”

he didn’t get to finish. glaring at him, you turned on your heel and stormed off, leaving him standing there, drenched in disappointment. todoroki and their friends, who had been watching from a distance, exchanged helpless glances as midoriya stood amidst the puddles of his failed gesture.

it was then that midoriya and todoroki noticed a group of first-year students practicing their fire quirks. the heat from their flames had warmed the ground, causing the ice sculptures to melt rapidly.

todoroki sighed, running a hand through his hair. “she was not happy.”

midoriya’s shoulders slumped. “i wanted to make her feel special, but all i did was mess things up.”

“don’t give up,” todoroki said, trying to reassure him. “there’s still time. just... maybe something simpler next time.”

but simpler didn’t come easily for midoriya. with each new idea suggested by his friends, he found himself spiraling further into chaos.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

midoriya had decided to take a bold step to make things right, following iida’s suggestion. he arranged a surprise staff meeting to publicly apologize to you, hoping that a formal and heartfelt apology would finally bridge the gap. with iida’s help, everything was set: the time, the place, and the carefully crafted speech midoriya had prepared.

however, midoriya overlooked one crucial detail—unbeknownst to him you had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for the same time as the meeting and couldn’t attend. unaware of your absence, midoriya proceeded with the plan.

as the meeting time approached, midoriya arrived early, his nerves jangling with anticipation. he had meticulously rehearsed his speech and was ready to make his apology. iida arrived shortly after to help set everything up and work the slideshow. the rest of the staff arrived, each person taking their seat, eager to hear what midoriya had prepared.

when the time came, midoriya stood at the front of the room, his speech in hand, only to realize that you were missing. a quick check with iida confirmed that you were indeed not present, and midoriya’s heart sank. he had planned to address you directly, but with you absent, he was at a loss for how to proceed.

in a moment of panic, midoriya decided to go ahead with the meeting anyway. clearing his throat, he began, “uh, thank you all for coming. i, um, had prepared a speech for ms. y/ln, but it seems she couldn’t make it today…”

the staff exchanged confused glances, some shuffling in their seats, unsure of what to do. midoriya, now the center of attention, tried to salvage the situation by improvising a general discussion about recent events and updates at the school.

he spoke about new curriculum changes, upcoming events, and even shared some amusing anecdotes to fill the awkward silence. what was intended as a formal apology session transformed into an impromptu staff meeting, with midoriya as the flustered host. iida attempted to assist by passing around random papers with topics, but this only added to the confusion.

as the meeting dragged on, it became evident that midoriya’s heartfelt apology had become an unintended and rather chaotic discussion. the staff, initially puzzled, became engaged in the unexpected meeting, though with a sense of bewilderment.

when the meeting finally wrapped up, midoriya stood at the front of the room, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. his attempt to make things right had resulted in an unplanned staff meeting.

you returned from your appointment later that day, only to hear about the mix-up from your colleagues. they filled you in on the unexpected turn of events. meanwhile, midoriya was already plotting his next grand gesture, determined to find a way to properly convey his apology and make things right with you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

after the previous grand gestures were a flop, midoriya decided to try something simpler yet still meaningful. with the help of momo and uraraka, he picked out the perfect bouquet: a mix of your favorite flowers, complemented by blooms in colors he knew you liked. the vibrant petals were arranged with careful attention to detail, each one chosen with thoughtfulness and care. midoriya’s heart raced as he made his way through the hallway, clutching the bouquet tightly, hoping this gesture would finally break through the wall between you two.

as he approached the corner where you were about to turn, midoriya took a deep breath, holding the bouquet out in front of him. his nerves were on edge as he hoped you’d see the effort he’d put into this simple but heartfelt gesture.

but just as he was about to step into your view, a loud crackle filled the air. one of the first-year students, still struggling with their electricity quirk, had lost control, and sparks began to fly uncontrollably. midoriya’s eyes widened in horror as a stray bolt shot out and zapped right through the bouquet in his hands. the once-vibrant flowers were instantly reduced to nothing but charred stems, the bright colors now a dark, ashy mess.

you turned the corner just as midoriya was standing there, holding what looked like a bundle of burnt sticks. raising an eyebrow, you stopped in your tracks and stared at him. “uh… what’s this supposed to be?” you asked, trying to make sense of the scene in front of you.

midoriya’s face flushed bright red, and he stammered, “i… i had flowers for you, but…” he trailed off, glancing down at the destroyed bouquet. his shoulders slumped in embarrassment, and he shifted awkwardly, feeling the sting of failure.

you sighed, the hurt in your eyes evident. “well, thanks, i guess? never been given stems before.” your voice was laced with a mix of sadness and irritation as you shook your head. with that, you turned to walk away, leaving midoriya standing there with a sinking feeling in his chest. he felt like he’d only made things worse, once again.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

midoriya decided to try another simple approach to make amends. remembering your favorite coffee shop and the drink you loved, he headed there with a hopeful heart. the bell above the door jingled as he walked in, and the rich, comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped him. he approached the counter, his nerves making his voice slightly shaky.

“hi, i’d like to get an iced latte with hazelnut and caramel, please. it’s for someone special,” he said, trying to keep his tone light and friendly.

the barista nodded and started preparing the drink. midoriya watched with bated breath as the machine whirred and hissed, the caramel and hazelnut syrup swirling into the coffee. he could almost see his hopes and apologies taking shape in the cup.

just as the barista handed him the cup, the machine let out a loud, mechanical groan and then abruptly stopped working. the barista’s face fell as she glanced at the now silent machine.

“wow, you’re really lucky,” she said with a sigh. “the machine’s down, and we won’t be able to make another one of these until our manager gets back to check it out. probably won’t be able to make another one of these for another two hours.”

midoriya’s heart sank slightly. he felt a flicker of relief that he had managed to get the coffee before the machine broke down, but the frustration of his situation made his shoulders droop. he thanked the barista and took the cup with a shaky hand, his excitement tempered by worry. he hoped this gesture would be enough to bridge the gap between you and him.

just as he was about to step out, a kid darted past him, bumping into his side with a jolt. midoriya stumbled, and before he could react, the cup flew from his grasp, the precious coffee spilling in a slow-motion cascade onto the floor. the liquid pooled around his shoes, the ice cubes and caramel syrup mixing into a dark puddle.

his heart sank as he stared at the mess. “oh no,” he muttered, feeling a wave of frustration and embarrassment wash over him. he glanced back at the counter, where the barista was now talking to another customer.

“we can’t make any more of those for now. that lucky guy just got the last one,” the barista said, pointing directly at midoriya.

midoriya’s head snapped to the woman in front of the register, and he saw you. your expression shifting from confusion to surprise and then to dismay. your eyes widened as you took in the sight of the ruined cup and midoriya’s mortified face. you had somehow slipped past him while he was waiting, and now you stood in front of the register.

“oh, great,” you said, your voice tinged with frustration. “this just keeps getting better.”

midoriya, now red-faced and utterly deflated, stood there feeling the weight of his failed attempt to make things right. his mind raced as he wanted to apologize, explain, and make it up to you, but all he could do was stand there, feeling utterly deflated.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

it was the start of the school day, and midoriya was busy preparing his classroom for the students. he was in high spirits, excited to tackle the day’s lessons and he felt good about his plans to work things out with you. however, his optimism was abruptly interrupted when a group of students burst into the room, their faces flushed with a mixture of urgency and panic.

“sensei, we need to talk!” one of them exclaimed, practically breathless from running.

midoriya looked up from his desk, surprised by the sudden intrusion. “oh, don’t worry, guys! i know you’re eager to start and all, but you still have another half hour before homeroom begins.”

“no, this is urgent!” another student insisted, their voice tinged with anxiety. “it’s about ms. ms. y/ln.”

midoriya’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. “what about her?”

the students quickly gathered around him, pulling out their phones with frantic gestures. midoriya’s heart sank as he watched the video they played. it showed you in a training session, ruthlessly taking down a dummy with a green wig and a set of freckles. the dummy’s resemblance to midoriya was almost comical, and you were using a variety of improvised weapons—bats, metal rods, and even a few random objects that had no place in a school setting. your movements were executed with a dramatic flair and an intensity that was both impressive and alarming.

midoriya stared at the screen, his eyes widening with disbelief. “you guys came to school early just to show me this?”

“yeah,” one student said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “we’ve noticed that ms. y/ln has been a lot more relaxed with us lately. she’s been back to her old self, but you’re still clearly on her bad side. we thought you should see this to understand why.”

midoriya tried to keep his tone light, despite the unsettling nature of the video. “gee, thanks. this is... uh, definitely something.”

another student nodded, their expression serious. “yeah, sensei. you really need to figure out what you did. we like you a lot, but i wouldn’t want to be that test dummy. she’s clearly still holding onto something.”

midoriya’s face fell into a mix of worry and determination. “i’ll talk to her and figure this out. thanks for letting me know.”

as the students left, midoriya remained at his desk, replaying the video in his mind. the exaggerated way you had taken down the dummy made it clear that you were still very upset with him. he was more determined than ever to find out what had gone wrong and make things right before your frustration led to even more extreme demonstrations–and hes nervous for the day that you decide you need a human target.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

midoriya had been feeling increasingly desperate to make things right after his previous attempts ended in disaster. he remembered a conversation he’d had with todoroki after the ice sculpture mishap. todoroki had suggested, “a carefully written note might be the best way to communicate your feelings without risking another embarrassing mishap.”

at the time, midoriya had thought a note would be too simple and struggled with the idea, especially since he wasn’t quite sure what he was apologizing for. but the test dummy incident had pushed him to his limits, making him realize he couldn’t afford another failure.

determined, midoriya spent hours crafting the perfect message. he poured his heart into every word, making sure you understood how much you meant to him and how genuinely sorry he was for everything that had gone wrong. the note was sincere, filled with his deepest apologies and hopes for understanding.

the library seemed like the ideal place to leave the note—quiet, private, and somewhere you were likely to find it without interference. midoriya waited for the library to clear out, his nerves on edge. when it was finally empty and still, he walked in, his heart pounding.

he spotted your folder resting on a table and took a deep breath. with a mix of nervous excitement and hope, he slipped the note inside, feeling a small sense of victory as he did. as he walked away, he felt a renewed sense of hope, convinced that this time, things might finally go right.

but later that afternoon, as midoriya walked down the hall towards the teachers’ lounge, he overheard two students talking animatedly.

“did you hear?” one student said, their voice filled with excitement. “a love note ended up in mr. aizawa’s folder!”

midoriya froze, his heart racing as he processed the shocking news. “mr. aizawa?!” he thought, his mind whirling with panic. he hadn’t seen you since the incident, and now he was horrified to discover that his apology note had ended up in aizawa’s folder instead of yours. his face went pale as he realized the note was meant to be a sincere apology, not a confession. he had never intended to make his feelings for you so obvious, and now he was mortified to find out it was interpreted as a love confession.

as he continued down the hall, he felt a pang of relief that the note hadn’t ended up in your folder, since it would have been even more awkward for you to see it that way. but that relief was overshadowed by the embarrassment and frustration of his mistake. midoriya’s stomach churned as he realized the mess he had accidentally created. desperate to correct the situation, he quickly rushed into the lounge, his face pale with worry and his thoughts racing.

he began pacing around the room, knowing he had to act fast. he needed to find a way to rectify the situation with aizawa and still make things right with you. his heart pounded as he brainstormed how to salvage his heartfelt gesture before it was too late.

i take it this note was meant for y/ln?” aizawa’s voice cut through the room, startling midoriya.

midoriya jumped, his heart leaping into his throat. he turned to see aizawa standing in the doorway, his usually stern expression replaced by an intense, almost intimidating gaze. midoriya’s face went pale, and he stammered, “yes! i’m really sorry about this, aizawa. i didn’t mean for it to get this messy.”

aizawa’s eyes narrowed slightly, his tone dropping to a low, almost menacing growl. “you know, midoriya, if you’re going to mess up, you should probably make sure it doesn’t involve the entire faculty.”

midoriya swallowed hard, a cold sweat forming on his forehead. he felt a rush of anxiety as he tried to explain himself. “i didn’t want to cause any trouble. i just thought—”

“do you like her?” aizawa interrupted, cutting through midoriya’s nervous babble.

midoriya blinked, taken aback. “well, yes, i do. i mean, i—”

“do you like her in a romantic way?” aizawa pressed, his gaze unyielding.

midoriya’s face flushed bright red. he began to ramble, “uh, yeah, i guess you could say that. i’ve liked her for a long time, and i’ve been trying to show her that, but everything keeps going wrong. i mean, i’ve been messing up left and right, and—”

“how did you get that idea?” midoriya finally blurted out, stumbling over his own words.

aizawa’s eyes softened just a bit. “this seems like a big apology for a coworker,” aizawa said, his tone shifting slightly. “sounds like a confession to me.”

midoriya’s eyes widened, and his face turned beet red. “oh, well, yeah, you could say that. i’ve been scared to tell her how i feel because i didn’t want to make things worse. i keep screwing up and pushing us further apart, and—”

“you’re overcomplicating things,” aizawa said, cutting through midoriya’s anxious rambling. “maybe it’s time to just talk to her directly.”

midoriya nodded, determination settling on his face. he knew he needed to take a straightforward approach to make things right. with a renewed sense of purpose, he prepared himself to finally confront the situation head-on, hoping that this time, his genuine feelings would come through and truly make a difference.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

midoriya was rushing out of the school building, determined to go home and prepare for a straightforward conversation with you. his plan was clear: find out what he’d done wrong, ask how he could make things right, and confess his feelings. he was nearly at the exit when kaminari, kirishima, todoroki, and bakugou intercepted him.

“hey, where are you rushing off to?” kaminari called out, blocking midoriya’s path with an eager grin.

midoriya came to a halt, his frustration evident. “i’m heading home to get ready for a talk with y/n. i really don’t have time for this.”

“perfect timing, then!” kaminari said, his grin widening. “we’ve got a plan to help you out.”

“a plan?” midoriya asked, eyeing the guitar kaminari was holding. “what’s this about?”

and that’s how midoriya found himself standing in front of your house, flanked by bakugou, kirishima, kaminari, and todoroki, all ready to serenade you like a group of love-struck lunatics. the whole situation felt surreal to him. he turned to kaminari, wearing the same skeptical and apprehensive expression he had earlier when they had intercepted him.

“are you sure this is going to work?” midoriya asked, trying to sound confident but clearly nervous.

kaminari, holding his guitar with a grin, shrugged nonchalantly. “works on jirou all the time. chicks love when you sing to them. it’s like some kind of chemical thing, I think.”

“okay, okay,” midoriya said, taking a deep breath. “let’s just get this over with.”

kaminari strummed the opening chords of the song, and midoriya took his place in front of the group, awkwardly adjusting his stance. he started singing, his voice wavering at first but gradually gaining confidence as he got into the rhythm. the lyrics were heartfelt, a mixture of longing and apology, expressing how much he missed you and how desperately he wanted to make things right.

as midoriya sang, his initial discomfort slowly faded, replaced by a genuine emotion that he hoped would reach you. kirishima and todoroki added their backup vocals, harmonizing with the main melody, while bakugou stood off to the side with his arms crossed, trying to look disinterested but clearly invested in the performance.

just as the song hit its emotional peak, the front door of the house swung open. an elderly man, clearly not you, stormed out onto the porch, his face red with irritation. “what in the world do you think you’re doing, making all this noise at this hour?!”

midoriya froze, his heart sinking as he realized their mistake. the old man’s eyes narrowed, and with a powerful gust of wind from his quirk, he sent them stumbling back. the sudden force knocked them off balance, and midoriya barely managed to stay upright.

“run!” kaminari yelled, already sprinting down the street. the others scrambled to follow, scattering in every direction as the irate old man pursued them with surprising vigor and speed for someone his age.

“it’s only seven o’clock at night!” kaminari shouted, his voice tinged with panic as he was flung into the air. midoriya and the rest of the group could only watch in horror as their friend was tossed around like a rag doll by the furious old man.

the old man’s face was a deep shade of red with rage. “it’s late enough! get off my lawn!” he bellowed, his voice amplified by the force of his quirk. gusts of wind howled around them, whipping up leaves and debris.

three houses down, you were grading papers when the commotion outside drew your attention. the sounds of shouting and the rush of wind made you step onto your porch, where you were met with a scene of utter chaos: a group of boys being chased by your 80-year-old neighbor, who was shaking his cane with fierce determination and unleashing his wind quirk with surprising strength.

through the flurry of wind and movement, you squinted and recognized the familiar green-haired figure. as realization dawned, you couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the absurdity of it all.

midoriya, flailing mid-flight against the gusts of wind, finally spotted you. panic and embarrassment flashed across his face as he was propelled toward your direction. when his eyes met yours, his expression softened into a sheepish smile.

seeing him so disheveled and helpless only made you laugh harder. you hesitated for a moment, then gave him a small, wavering wave. your smile blended amusement with sympathy, recognizing that this wild spectacle was all his doing.

as midoriya was swept past, he saw you retreating back into your home, closing the door behind you. despite the chaos, he managed to hold onto that sheepish grin. your smile, amid the disaster of the serenade, gave him a flicker of hope.

midoriya felt himself being yanked out of the wind’s path and looked up to see bakugou standing over him with a smirk. “looks like you finally got her attention, nerd,” bakugou said, his voice dripping with a mix of amusement and satisfaction.

midoriya, still disoriented from the chaos, brushed himself off and looked around at the scattered group. kirishima and todoroki were catching their breath, while kaminari was sitting on the curb, looking dazed and slightly battered. the gusts of wind had finally ceased, but the ruckus had left its mark.

midoriya’s thoughts raced as he tried to piece together what had just happened. “how did we get the house wrong?” he muttered, he looked up at the house they had just been harassing, his eyes finally taking in the number on the mailbox: 109. realization hit him hard. “we’re at 109, not 106!” he exclaimed, his face falling in disbelief.

the group turned in unison to kaminari, their collective frustration apparent. “you got the address wrong, didn’t you?” bakugou growled, glaring at him.

kaminari’s eyes widened in panic. “it was just a mistake! I didn’t—”

midoriya’s realization was quickly overshadowed by another gust of wind. the old man, still fuming and clutching his cane, had spotted the group again and was gearing up for another attack.

“run!” kirishima shouted, causing midoriya and the others to jump into motion. they scrambled for safety, but the old man’s wind quirk picked up speed, howling as it blasted toward them.

amid the chaos, kaminari, who was still dazed from the earlier commotion, stumbled and tripped over his own feet. “guys, wait up!” he yelled, but his plea was drowned out by the roaring wind.

without a second thought, the rest of the group sprinted away, leaving kaminari behind. the old man’s quirk grabbed kaminari and sent him flying into the air. midoriya, glancing back, saw kaminari flailing helplessly as he was tossed around like a ragdoll.

“sorry, man!” kirishima shouted over his shoulder, guilt evident in his voice as he continued to run.

kaminari’s screams echoed through the night as the old man, now thoroughly enraged, spun him around with impressive strength. “try and sing now pretty boy!” the old man roared, hurling kaminari high into the air before catching him again and sending him spinning.

midoriya and the others continued to flee, their pace slowing as they glanced back nervously. the old man’s furious wind gusts faded into the distance, and with each passing moment, kaminari’s screams grew quieter.

they ran behind the cover of trees and bushes, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. midoriya’s heart pounded in his chest, not just from the exertion but from the fear for their friend. kirishima, breathing heavily, kept turning his head, his face a mix of worry and regret.

“is he still…?” kirishima began, but his voice trailed off as the group strained to listen. kaminari’s cries, once sharp and panicked, had dwindled to distant echoes.

“i don’t hear him anymore,” todoroki said, his voice low and tense.

“he should be alright,” bakugou said, his tone brimming with frustration. “he can take care of himself.”

midoriya swallowed hard, unable to shake the image of kaminari being tossed around. “we need to go back,” he said, his voice determined but weary.

“no way,” bakugou countered. “we need to stay out of sight. we can’t help him if we get caught too.”

they continued to move away, their steps slow and cautious as they kept glancing back toward the fading sound of kaminari’s distress. the screams eventually faded completely, leaving only the haunting memory of their friend’s ordeal.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

the four boys made their way to todoroki's apartment, the closest and most convenient refuge after their chaotic run-in with the old man. as they settled in, todoroki offered drinks and snacks while they waited for kaminari to arrive. they sent a steady stream of text messages to their missing friend, updating him on their location and asking him to join them as soon as possible.

as midoriya was deep in thought, trying to piece together the troubling realization, the front door to todoroki’s apartment burst open. kaminari staggered in, drenched from head to toe. his clothes clung to him, and he dripped puddles onto the floor. the room fell silent as the others turned to see their soggy friend, a mix of relief and confusion on their faces.

“dude, you’re soaked!” kirishima exclaimed, rushing to grab a towel for kaminari.

kaminari, still catching his breath and shivering from the cold, looked around at the concerned faces. “you guys won’t believe it. there’s a huge storm outside. i got caught in it while the old man was still throwing me around. the wind was so strong it messed withhis quirk. managed to escape when he got distracted by the storm.”

as kaminari finally managed to get himself mostly dry, he glared at his friends, still visibly shaken. “i can’t believe you guys left me behind out there!” he exclaimed, frustration and disbelief clear in his voice.

kirishima tossed a towel to kaminari, shooting him an apologetic look. “we didn’t exactly have much of a choice. the old man was going to blow us all away!”

todoroki nodded in agreement. “yeah, and you kind of tripped over your own feet, making it hard for us to help.”

bakugou crossed his arms, smirking. “it’s not like we planned for you to get caught. it’s your fault for messing up the address.”

kaminari’s eyes widened. “are you seriously blaming me for this? you guys should have double-checked!”

despite the lively discussion, midoriya’s attention drifted. sitting cross-legged on the floor and leaning back against the wall, he stared at the flickering embers of the fire. the warmth from the fire contrasted sharply with the turmoil in his mind. lost in thought, he replayed the events of the night over and over. his heart sank as he remembered a crucial detail from weeks ago—a fleeting moment he had brushed off at the time but now seemed significant. it was something you had said or done that had seemed minor then, but now it loomed large in his memory.

his eyes widened as the realization struck him with the force of a freight train. his heart dropped, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. the truth of that moment made everything about their disastrous serenade make sense, and the weight of his mistake felt heavier than ever.

it was a few weeks ago, right before fall break. you and midoriya had been sitting at your dining table, grading papers together. the room was filled with the soft sounds of pens scratching against paper, and outside, the leaves were a brilliant mix of oranges and golds. he remembered how content you seemed, how you’d smiled at him, saying, “you know, izuku… this is kind of nice.”

he’d looked up, confused but curious. “what is?”

“just… this.” you’d waved your hand at the table, the papers, and the two of you sitting together. “it’s nice. we should do it more often.”

he’d smiled back, completely missing the undertone of your words. “yeah, i think so too! it’s a lot easier to get through all this work when we’re doing it together. makes it less boring.”

he could see it now, the small shift in your expression as you nodded, pushing on despite his obliviousness. “exactly. it’s… comfortable, being here with you. like, i wouldn’t mind doing this… more often.”

he’d laughed, still clueless. “definitely! actually, i was just thinking how much easier this would be if we had uraraka and iida helping out too. we’d be done in no time!”

the way your smile had faltered, how your eyes had dimmed slightly as you tried one last time. “well, i’m just glad it’s you here with me. it wouldn’t be the same with anyone else.”

and he’d laughed again, unknowingly brushing off what had been a confession of sorts. “haha, thanks! i guess we do make a pretty good team. we’re like the ultimate grading duo!”

he saw it so clearly now—the way you’d sighed, looking deflated, your words trailing off as you muttered, “yeah… a good team.”

and he had just continued grading, thinking everything was fine, not realizing that he’d hurt you, that you’d taken his response as a gentle rejection.

it hit him like a punch to the gut. how could he have been so blind? the way you’d smiled at him that night, the vulnerability in your voice—he’d completely missed it. and in doing so, he’d hurt the person he cared about most.

pacing around todoroki’s apartment, midoriya was a whirlwind of anxiety. his thoughts were racing, and his pacing left an impression on the floor. "i... i messed up," midoriya said softly, almost to himself. but the others noticed. the chatter in the room stopped as they all turned to look at him.

bakugou was the first to speak. "what the hell are you babbling about now, deku?"

midoriya ran a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling slightly. "there was this night... we were at her house, grading papers. she said something that i—I completely missed the point. i thought we were just talking about work, but now... i realize she was trying to tell me something."

kirishima raised an eyebrow. "what did she say?"

midoriya exhaled shakily. "she said... 'i’m just glad it’s you here with me. it wouldn’t be the same with anyone else.' and then... i just said, 'yeah, we’re a good team!' and moved on like it was nothing."

there was a beat of silence.

kaminari let out a low whistle. "dude..."

todoroki nodded slowly, piecing it together. "you didn’t realize she was talking about more than just grading, did you?"

midoriya shook his head, his face turning pale. "no... i didn’t. i thought she was just talking about us working together. i didn’t even think... i didn’t realize she meant that i was special to her. that being with me was different for her."

bakugou scoffed. "you’re such a damn idiot, even this half and half loser was able to put it together. she practically laid it out for you."

midoriya’s face flushed with embarrassment. "i know... i know, i was an idiot. but at the time, i just didn’t see it. i didn’t think... i didn’t think someone like her would... feel that way about me."

kirishima’s grin softened into something more understanding. "man, that’s rough. but hey, it’s not too late. you can still do something about it."

midoriya looked up, determination sparking in his eyes. "you’re right. i have to fix this. can’t just leave things like this."

“thats the spirit buddy! while you were being all weird in the corner we managed to track down a few people who are willing to do a flash m-”

midoriya was barley registering what kaminari was. his mind was fixated on you and what he needed to do. without a word, he bolted for the door, leaving the others staring in confusion.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

midoriya stood at your door, a soaked mess of a romantic cliché. the rain had pounded him relentlessly, leaving his dress shirt clinging to his skin, almost see-through from the downpour. water dripped steadily from him, forming a small, glistening puddle on your porch. leaves and twigs were tangled in his green curls, sticking out like a wild, untamed halo, while some damp strands clung to his forehead. his tie hung askew, probably snagged during his frantic sprint, and his dress pants were plastered to his legs, heavy with rain.

each step he took produced a miserable squish from his soaked socks, echoing the awkwardness of the situation. his breathing was uneven, each inhale a shaky gasp from the run to your house. normally so composed, midoriya now stood there, a sopping wet contradiction to his usually neat appearance.

he raised a trembling hand to knock, his fingers fumbling with cold and nerves. when you answered the door, your eyes widened in shock. the sight of midoriya was like something out of a slapstick romantic comedy—his usually neat hair was a wild mess, and his clothes clung to him in a way that was more tragic than suave.

“izuku? are you insane?” you asked, bewildered.

midoriya, still panting from his run, looked at you with a mix of determination and embarrassment. “it’s been a long six months,” he stammered, struggling to catch his breath. “i was too afraid to tell you what i wanted.”

you raised an eyebrow, taking a step back to survey the drenched mess in front of you. “what are you talking about? you look like you swam here.”

midoriya took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “that night we were grading papers, you said something that i didn’t understand at the time. you said, ‘i’m just glad it’s you here with me. it wouldn’t be the same with anyone else.’”

you blinked, still processing his soaked appearance. “yeah, i did. no need to—”

“i thought you meant you were just glad to have me as a coworker,” midoriya interrupted, his voice trembling with vulnerability. “but now i realize you were trying to tell me something much more important. i was so focused on keeping you as a friend that i didn’t realize i missed my chance to be something more.”

your eyes widened, and you took a step back, your mind racing. “wait, so… you like me?”

“yes, i really do,” midoriya said, his voice trembling with cold and nervousness. “i’m sorry it took me so long to figure this out. i want you in my life, no matter what. i know i’ve messed things up, and i want to make it right. you mean so much to me, and i’d wait as long as it takes to prove that. i like you, a lot.”

you stared at him with a mix of frustration and relief. “oh my god, i thought you hated me! you tried to give me flowers, then there were the puddles, and the coffee—”

midoriya’s eyes widened in realization. “the flowers…the puddles—those were all me trying to show you how i felt!”

you groaned in disbelief, “and you didnt understand my way?”

midoriya’s face turned a deeper shade of red. “i’m sorry. i thought—”

you cut him off, frustration clear in your voice. “i thought you didn’t care! after i tried to confess, i needed some space, and you acted like nothing happened. then all these weird things kept happening, and it felt like you were mocking my feelings for you.”

midoriya’s shoulders slumped, his eyes filled with regret. “i was trying to show you how much you mean to me, but every time, something went wrong. i thought if i kept trying, it would get better, but it just made things worse.”

he stepped closer, the rain drenching his already soaked clothes. “i’m here to make things right. i want you to know how much you mean to me. i’m not just sorry for misunderstanding—i’m sorry for not realizing how special you are until now.”

he reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he took yours. his gaze was full of hope, his green eyes reflecting the soft glow of the porch light. “please, give me a chance to show you how much i care. i want to be more than just a good team. i want to be someone you can count on, someone who truly understands you.”

midoriya’s hand, cold and trembling, felt reassuringly warm against yours. the droplets cascading down his face highlighted the emotion in his expression, his eyes locked on yours. every sound around you—the distant rumble of thunder, the soft patter of rain, and the steady beat of your heart—seemed to magnify the intimacy of the moment.

it felt as if the world had come to a standstill, holding its breath for this delicate, significant moment between the two of you. as you took a shaky breath, the weight of the past weeks seemed to lift, replaced by a fragile sense of anticipation.

with a small, tearful smile, you finally found your voice. “okay.” the word was barely a whisper, yet it carried the weight of your emotions. it was a simple affirmation, but it felt profound in the context of your shared experience.

midoriya’s face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy as he stepped even closer, the warmth of his presence nearly overwhelming despite the cold rain soaking through his clothes. droplets of water dripped onto your porch as he gently squeezed your hand, his thumb tenderly tracing over your knuckles. his eyes were filled with nothing but pure adoration, and before you knew it, he pulled you gently into his embrace, his soaked clothes pressing against you. the cold of the rain was undeniable, and you shivered as the chill seeped into your warmth.

“izuku, you’re freezing,” you managed between giggles, squirming slightly as the coldness of his wet clothes made you shudder.

he chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear despite the rain-soaked predicament. “i know, but i just couldn’t stay away.”

midoriya pulled back slightly, his arms still around you but loosening just enough to gaze into your eyes. his smile was wide, his expression a perfect blend of admiration and pure joy. he took a moment to fully appreciate how beautiful you looked, even as you laughed and tried to escape his embrace. the rain highlighted the sparkle in your eyes and the joy in your smile, making the moment feel even more special. he was overwhelmed with how lucky he felt to be here with you, sharing this perfectly imperfect moment.

slowly, midoriya cupped your face in his hands, his fingers brushing gently against your cheeks. the warmth of his touch contrasted sharply with the chill of the rain, and you could feel the delicate tremor in his fingers, a sign of how much this moment meant to him. his gaze was tender, his eyes holding a mix of admiration and vulnerability that made your heart flutter.

you could feel his breath mingling with yours, each exhale warm and soothing against the cool, damp air. his closeness was both comforting and electrifying, the sensation of his presence enveloping you completely. midoriya’s gaze lingered on your lips for a moment before he leaned in slowly, giving you ample time to pull away if you wished. when his lips finally met yours, the kiss was gentle and tender, a stark contrast to the cold rain that drummed against the porch.

the kiss deepened gradually, each movement slow and deliberate, as if he were savoring every second. the warmth of his lips, paired with the lingering chill of the rain, created a stunning contrast that sent shivers down your spine. as his kiss conveyed both an apology and a promise, you felt a wave of warmth flood through you, banishing the chill of the downpour. the connection between you was profound, a blending of emotions that left you breathless.

midoriya’s hands, still cradling your face, were careful and reverent. the world outside—the rain, the noise, the chaos—seemed to dissolve, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared warmth and connection. his lips lingered against yours, his touch gentle as if he were afraid to break the spell of this perfect moment.

when he finally pulled away, his eyes were still locked on yours, and his smile was filled with pure, unrestrained happiness. he opened his mouth, seemingly ready to say something heartfelt, but before he could speak, loud cheers erupted from the bushes nearby.

“so manly!” “let’s go, young midoriya!”

the sudden outburst startled both of you. midoriya turned, his expression shifting from soft adoration to surprise as kaminari, kirishima, todoroki, and bakugou emerged from their hiding spots. kaminari was grinning widely, fist-pumping the air, while kirishima gave midoriya an exaggerated thumbs-up. todoroki offered a subtle nod of approval, and bakugou, arms crossed, smirked and muttered, “finally got her izuku.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

an: reach out?? the embers?? guys did i eat or what like tf anyways guys i have so many ideas so much i wanna write but why does it take so LONG FUCK but anyways enjoy this while i try to shit out some band au stuff (i love my band au plotline so much but i cant do any of the in between stuff its like a partial writers block)

#mha x reader #mha #bnha fic #bnha x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #midoriya x reader #mha izuku #izuku x reader #mha midoriya #izuku mydoria #izuku midoryia x you #izuku midoriya fluff #mha fluff #bnha fluff #teacher midoriya

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yanderenightmare · 1 year ago

Note

head cannons for what being Gojo and Get's shared little captive housewife darling would be liked? ples

Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru

TW: yandere, captive reader

gn reader

They’re both awfully cuddly. Always wrapping their lanky arms around your waist and slugging their bodies against you, tugging on you and swaying you against them in a way it’s hard to keep balance, making it impossible to do anything but stand there and try and hold your weight as well as theirs.

Satoru is the worst of the pair, though – constantly ignoring whatever you’re doing in favor of picking you up and cuddling you on the couch when he feels like it – which is almost always when he’s home. Not that you do much else but humor them. But still, it’s annoying being in the middle of a chapter only for the pages to flap close when Gojo picks the book out of your hands, throwing it aside unceremoniously – his blue eyes pleading at you like a puppy, feeling ignored and pouty – asking you to play with his hair instead. He’s already laying himself against your chest with a smile and giddy laugh before you can as much as try and refuse.

Suguru is more respectful of your hobbies in that aspect. He’s usually the one that procures books and such for you. Always happy to discuss your thoughts. But sometimes, you suspect he gives you tricky reads just for the chance to explain them to you. He’s a little patronizing that way. Smiling while prying for your thoughts, offering a soft chuckle when you fess up and tell him it was a little beyond your abilities.

Satoru feels left out when the two of you talk about books. He doesn’t read. But just to feel included, he’ll dump a stack of his old comics in your lap. He’s such a spoiler, though, and will tell you the entire plot and ending before you’ve even peeled a page open. He’s more of a movies and shows person. Forever in his childish ways, he’ll dib a character to represent him whenever the three of you are watching something – getting real pouty if the character ends up dying, almost to the point he’s completely disinterested in the rest of the story.

Both are shit cooks with appetites beyond your understanding. You never make enough, and it always ends up with the both of them whining for seconds. They have a bit of a maid kink the two of them. Waiving a pretty little white ruffled apron at you whenever they’re hungry – insisting on helping you tie it around your waist and neck in pretty bows. It always makes you feel a bit ridiculous.

It doesn’t make it any better that when you cook, there’s always one of them supervising. Not helping out, mind you – just watching and waiting, licking their lips when it starts smelling good – asking for taste tests like children. Often with big hands draped over your stomach and a chin either resting in the nook of your neck or atop your head.

Satoru’s chattier than Suguru, but Suguru is better at asking you about your things. He’s a little more considerate of your feelings, making sure you’re as comfortable as you can be locked inside all day. That being said, he’s the tougher one when it comes to saying no to things as well. For example, you’re better off testing your luck with Satoru if you want to go outside.

You feel, for Satoru, it’s not too much about protecting you. You don’t think the guy knows what fear feels like. It’s more about coveting you. He’s possessive, prone to jealousy, and easily enraged – you remember from when the three of you were a somewhat normal throuple with somewhat normal boundaries. For him, this arrangement is just a whole lot simpler, keeping you away from anything that might inspire him to feel anything he doesn’t like.

Whereas with Suguru, you’re sure he’s actually scared something might happen to you, and that’s why he insists on keeping you inside. You’re only just a small thing, after all, with no cursed energy to talk about. You might become a target for their enemies if they’re not careful enough. Out there, you’re the greatest weapon against them, their greatest weakness. And he fears for the world when he thinks about what he and Satoru would do if they lost you.

Neither of them seems to care that it’s unreasonable.

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felassan · 2 months ago

Text

Dragon Age: The Veilguard art book pages, under a cut due to spoilers:

Scoundrels The scoundrels were an idea to add unique encounters to spice up combat and imply narrative depth. These would be like Batman B villains that cross your path, mess with you, and then run off to bother you another day. The main criteria was that they should be built using existing assets (some of the most rewarding work happens within extreme limitations). Right: The stalker that will never die (returned from Origins). Center: The hardest part about designing scoundrels is knowing you won't be able to build them all (yet). We liked the idea of them joining forces and creating an "anti-party: a group that could specifically counter each of your followers. Illustration labels: The Mouse, Stalker, Son of Sky Watcher, The Blacksmith, The Blood Witch, The Golden Mercenary, The Professor, The Librarian, The Beast, The Owl Gang, The Fox, The Fist, The Librarian, The Dove, The Spectre, The Champion, The Duelist, The Hunter

Illustration labels: The Lava Queen, The Artifact, The Interogator, The Flame, The Black Dragon, The Cartographer, The Marshal, The Blackbird, The Faithless, The Deadly Stillness, The Prince, Madam Venatori, Prof. Skeleton, The Swarm, The Beyondernaught, The Bank, Mournwatch Soldier, Poltergeist, Necroknight

Top: Scoundrels were originally proposed as a replacement for the Inquisitor's judgement scenes. After defeating a scoundrel, you would have a choice about how to deal with them. Bottom: If you killed a scoundrel, you could take their weapons and costume (no matter how outlandish). Or you could spare their life and call on them for a favor later on down the road.

The scoundrels also offered the opportunity to give more faces to the various regions and factions of Thedas. Tevinter libraries may be vast, but how much more vast do they seem if they produce a scoundrel like "the Librarian"?

Bellara Bellara is a Dalish technomancer. When the elven gods emerged, the blighted energy that they brought caused previously dormant elven artifacts to come to life, and Bellara focused her energy on learning how they worked for the benefit of both her fellow Dalish elves and her teammates. Top right: The first sketches of Bellara started with the description of "Jules Verne dork". Center left: She's very intense. She tries to be focused - but attempts too many things at once and ends up getting overwhelmed and not doing any of them, which makes her feel guilty. She then compensates by taking on too much once again. Center right: The rings on Bellara's gauntlet rotate and then lock in place. Bottom left: Bellara's gauntlet allows her to interact with ancient elven technology. ^ Illustration annotations: Moving/semiliquid mirror particles, Also portal for shards, Eluvian map

Top: We designed her to look like the elven version of an academic doing research in the field. Semiformal but simple elven clothing, with every piece of gear she thinks she might need, as well as room to store any fascinating specimens. Center: She likely will never unfold her eluvian map in-game, but we know it's there. Bottom: An unused endgame appearance: Bellara as the new icon of the splendor of the ancient elven empire.

Left: Bellara's space is mostly a workshop where she can continue her research. It's full of ancient elven artifacts, Veil Jumper tools and furniture, and lots and lots of mirrors. Right: Hanging elven artifacts, a metaphor for the weight of her mission pressing down on her.

Left: Hanging fabric to make it cozier. Right: A mirror with someone frozen in it.

Davrin He's an elf in his early thirties, but not a delicate, refined one. He's a monster slayer, tougher than your usual elf in stature and demeanor. Davrin is a seasoned veteran trying to nurture good in a world that keeps throwing evil at him. There's a confidence in him that comes from knowing he's good at what he does. He broke away from his elven clan in his teens because the insularity stifled him. He wanted adventure. Top right: He actively seeks the challenge of monster hunting to test and better himself, figuring if he can come out of a fight alive, it'll forge some steel in his soul. Center: We tried to find the right balance between his elven past and his Warden present. Center right: A soldier surviving in the wilderness. The armor is lighter but preserves the Warden quality. Many elements of his costume are designed to look like pieces he created or modified for himself out in the field with available materials. Bottom: Fighting Elgar'nan's darkspawn at Weisshaupt.

Assan and his siblings are the first live griffons we've seen in Dragon Age. Much like medieval illustrations of exotic animals, there is a slight disparity between living griffons and their artistic representations.

Top right: Classically, griffons' bodies are based on large cats. The bodies of Thedas's griffons are based more on dogs, specifically Great Danes. Center: Assan was a rare first-draft design. The first image of him was exactly right. Center left: An unused endgame appearance for Davrin with a matching "griffon commander" set for him and Assan, marking him as the head of the newly formed griffon cavalry unit. Bottom right: Each one of Davrin's carvings represents countless hours of tracking, studying, and hunting - a symbol of his accomplishments as he carves his way through the monster world, beast by beast.

Left: Davrin's room was meant to allow for lots of natural light and fresh air (as much as you can get in the Fade). Right: Davrin's area is filled with monster-slaying tools and research, as well as a generous number of perching options for Assan.

Emmrich Emmrich is a professor specializing in death magic, hexes, and necromancy. Despite his mastery of dark arts, Emmrich is a friendly, energetic man who loves company and adventure. Deeply curious about everything, especially magic, he's kept himself active by exploring the dangerous catacombs underneath his city and can more than handle himself in a fight. He's part of the Mourn Watch, an elite group of necromancers who protect the world of the living from occult horrors. Right: Emmrich is a very emotive talker: he gesticulates, underlines points with his hands, etc. His enthusiasm comes through transparently in his body language. Left: For his outfit, we explored a combination of academic, mortician, and conductor.

Left: Emmrich's work encompasses death and grief. He's sensitive to how they leave people vulnerable and in need of compassion and kindness. He has a deep well of both, especially for his friends. Right: A regal-looking lich.

Top left: Emmrich has always had thanatophobia - he is a necromancer afraid to die. Through long study and rituals, he's discovered a way to cheat death by becoming undead himself. Center top: Events of the game force him to choose between this strange immortality and reviving a dear friend. Top right: Emmrich must decide to make peace with dying or seize immortality, but either way he comes to a better relationship with death. Bottom: Manfred's space is ideal for studying death and magic in equal measure.

Top center: Emmrich has a collection of artifacts used to study the esoteric. Top right: Emmrich's Fade telescope. If you dare to look, make sure you're not alone. Center left: A Nevarran teapot that belonged to Emmrich's mother. Center: We gave him "guts" made from useful containers Emmrich might need out in the field. Center right: What can be said about Manfed? He is Emmrich's loyal assistant, mentee, and friend.

Harding The dwarf scout from Dragon Age: Inquisition. The girl next door that develops mysterious, powerful abilities connected to the ancient past of her fellow dwarves. Compassionate and cheerful, she is the heart and conscience of the team. Harding strives to remain true to herself and her humble upbringing even as she is flung into darkness and world-changing threats. Center: Harding is the moral compass of the group. A kind woman, she has an optimistic outlook and views the world and those who live in it as inherently good, even as she faces monstrous evils. She does not view attributes like empathy as weaknesses but strengths. A friend to everyone on the team. Bottom: We tried to make Harding's outfit an evolution of an Inquisition uniform. We imagined her on a mission, waiting for days in a sniper perch, biding her time by embroidering beautiful patterns into her sniper cloak.

Top left: Harding must deal with her newfound Stone-based powers that she inadvertently acquires during an early mission in the game. Top right: Even with her new powers, Harding would still be an archer. It was fun to explore what that might look like. Center left: In the early stages, Harding's Stone powers were more extreme, including her skin transforming during combat. Center left 2: It was challenging to make the stone skin look appealing and not like an infection. Bottom left: Harding has a green thumb. Over the course of the game she transforms a dead space into a lush garden (a feat even more impressive in the Fade). Bottom right: A corrupted red lyrium version.

Lucanis A trained assassin possessed by a demon of spite, Lucanis is constantly battling to control the darkness within himself. He is a black-hat badass who can kill anything. As a member of the Antivan Crows, Lucanis feels a sense of loyalty to his house that goes beyond duty or monetary gain. Family is as ingrained in him as holding a dagger the correct way. Center: Lucanis dresses in the Antivan Crows' interpretation of a simple black suit. Center right: Though a hardened killer, Lucanis is cultured and comfortable in both upper-class and underworld social settings. He studies his enemies, learning and testing their weaknesses before striking. Bottom: Lucanis tries not to sleep, so his room is sparse and brooding.

Center left: A pragmatic and confident gangster with a dry, dark sense of humor. He offers no apologies for being morally gray. Center: Calculated and ruthless, he fights with an effortless grace that comes from years of training and experience. Center right: He is an executioner who always gets his mark.

Neve Magical noir detective in the big city. She cares more about everyday people with "right-now problems" than the big picture. Word spread through Minrathous that she'd help people both on and off the record, so she works whatever cases come her way that are worth taking. Her motto: she takes a job, she finishes it, she walks away... If only things were ever that simple. Her fighting style is low, broad, staccato, and effortless. Center: We found consultations with amputees to be very valuable in helping us design not only a stylish and practical prosthetic for Neve, but also the accompanying accessories. Center left: Her ascot is designed to evoke a pit of snakes. Bottom right: The dark elements on her shoulders are based on shoulder holsters.

Top: Neve's outfit is a mix of detective and femme fatale. Center left: As mentioned earlier, Neve's place on the team was originally occupied by the returning villain Calpernia from Inquisition. After the decision to create a new character, the first versions of Neve's design were "Calpernia as a detective". Center right: A cynic with a heart of gold, Neve is clever, driven, and guarded. She has a dry but playful sense of humor. Beneath her nonchalant attitude is someone who cares about what they do and wishes things were better. She can act comfortable in upper-class situations, but she's known to be an outsider, and she's truly in her element in Minrathous's less-rich neighborhoods. Bottom right: Meeting with consultants changed everything about how we designed her prosthetics and equipment. The first impulse was to make something flashy and multipurpose. Instead, we chose not to draw too much attention to it, lest it distract from her character.

Top: Another lesson we learned from the consultants was to not make her prosthetic central. It's off to the side, just a normal part of her day. Bottom: Neve's desk. Humble by Tevinter standards and marked with serpent imagery.

Center: Neve's room is the cassic gumshoe film noir office, with moody lighting and a wall of evidence that grows throughout the game.

Taash As someone who grew up in the free-spirited, multicultural country of Rivain but was raised to respect the Qunari heritage, Taash is a dragon-hunter who walks in two worlds. Top left: Taash can breathe fire thanks to remnants of Qunari dragon blood. Top right: With Taash we tried to find a good balance between Qunari heritage (rope, dragon skin) and Lords of Fortune allegiance (coins, jewelry).

Top left: Taash's idle pose was drawn to give the impression of a fighter after a match. Top right: Taash understands dragons on an instinctual level and hunts and kills any that are a danger to people. Taash is a part of the Lords of Fortune faction, adventurers who seek dragons worth slaying and treasure worth taking. A pair of axes and light armor allow for quick movement - and even getting onto the backs of large enemies.

Getting the Gang Together The characters were largely approved, and this was the first time we saw them all assembled.

Varric It's a joy to revisit characters. It's a great opportunity to visually tell the story of all the years we've missed. Varric is older, a little scruffier, maybe preferring comfort to style as his adventuring days near their end. He's also let go of some of his old priorities, not needing to be flashy, not as concerned about keeping his beard short. We also decided to go with a darker and more washed-out color palette, for reasons that people who have played through the game will understand. Top left: Varric spends the majority of the game bedridden, so we wanted to make the severity of his injuries visible. ^ Illustration annotations: back, front Top right: It's not just Varric that has been on a journey. We wanted to show that Bianca had been well loved over the past decade. Bottom left illustration annotations: Custom-engraved metal plate. Swappable lens. Gem affects abilities. Bianca's scarf. Retractable; see rail on original. Engraved. Rear. Stock made from ancient myrtle tree. Finish is black with hints of blond patterns. Edges line in ivory, while ornate designs are metal. Bottom right: An ancient elven room converted into an infirmary, where Rook recovers.

Solas While known as Solas in present-day Thedas, he was once known as Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, the elven god of betrayal. In ancient times, he rebelled against the other gods, the Evanuris, and sealed them away from the living world, behind the Veil. Solas's true identity remained hidden from the world through the events of Dragon Age: Inquisition and was revealed in the Trespasser DLC. During that time, he was an Inquisition follower masquerading as a simple hedge mage. Top left: Solas's outfit is designed to represent that he has stopped hiding. He is committed to his path, and so he returns to dressing like he did in the old days. Right: The central MacGuffin of the game is Solas's lyrium dagger. Originally it was hidden away in the idol from Dragon Age II. Bottom left: One of the palettes Solas used when painting one of his many historical and confessional murals. Bottom center: Most of the elven gods had dragons. Ever the outsider, Solas instead embraced the Dread Wolf nickname on a grand scale. This creature was based on one of Solas's cards from Inquisition.

some other pages -

Some opening pages

Foreword

Google Books preview pages Part One

Google Books preview pages Part Two

Amazon preview pages

Page batch

Page batch 2

Book art credits:

BioWare art: Matt Rhodes, Ramil Sunga, Albert Urmanov, Christopher Scoles, Nick Thornborrow, Steve Klit

Volta art: Gui Guimaraes, Stéphanie Bouchard, Akim Kaliberda, Alejandro Olmedo, Alexey Zaryuta, Julien Carrasco, Maksim Marenkov, Marianne Martin, Mariia Istomina, Marion Kivits, Matti Marttinen, Mélanie Bourgeois, Pablo Hurtado De Mendoza, Rael Lyra, Rodrigo Ramos, Thomas Schaffer, Tiago Sousa, Tristan Kang, Vladimir Mokry, Yintion J, Joseph Meehan, Stefan Atanasov, Julien Carrasco

Additional art: Marc Holmes, Thomas Scholes

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #solas #injury cw #blood cw

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be4chywritez · 6 months ago

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yucky | quinn hughes

quinn hughes x fem!reader

you end up catching the flu but Quinn has your back.

request: Maybe a part 2 to in sickness and health where reader did inevitably get sick and Quinn’s taking care of her now?

prompt: This is humiliating.” “Nothing is humiliating about needing help, love."

beachy’s masterlist🐚

part one

The gray light of another rainy afternoon filtered through the windows. The lake house was quieter than usual, with Luke and Jack out for the day. This time, the reason wasn’t a sick Quinn, but you, battling the flu.

Quinn sat beside you on the bed, watching your restless sleep. He sighed, his worry evident. When you stirred, he was quick to place a cool hand on your forehead.

You opened your eyes, meeting his concerned gaze. “Hey,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “You shouldn’t be here. I don’t want you to get sick.”

Quinn shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “In sickness and in health, remember?” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Like death,” you muttered, mirroring his words from days before.

He chuckled softly. “I’ll get you some water and medicine. Just rest, okay?”

You nodded weakly, watching as he left the room. Despite your misery, you couldn’t help but feel touched by his care. Moments later, he returned with a glass of water and some medicine.

“Here, take these,” he said gently, helping you sit up. You took the medicine, grimacing at the taste, then laid back down.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Quinn brushed a strand of hair out of your face, his touch soothing. “It’s nothing. Just focus on getting better.”

As you dozed off again, Quinn busied himself with cleaning up, ensuring the house remained a germ-free zone. He moved quietly careful to not wake you. He wanted to make things as comfortable as possible for you.

Later, you awoke to the sound of Quinn in the kitchen. You could hear him humming softly, the smell of chicken soup wafting through the air. Despite feeling awful, you smiled.

He returned with a bowl of soup, setting it on the nightstand. “Do you think you can eat a little?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes.

You nodded, managing a small smile. “I’ll try.”

Quinn helped you sit up, then handed you the bowl. You took a few sips, the warmth soothing your sore throat. He watched you carefully, making sure you were okay.

“This is humiliating,” you muttered, feeling self-conscious about your state.

Quinn shook his head, his expression serious. “Nothing is humiliating about needing help, love.”

You looked at him, touched by his words. “You’re too good to me, Quinn.”

He smiled, leaning in to kiss your forehead again. “I love you. Now, finish your soup and get some rest.”

Just as you were finishing your soup, the door burst open, and Luke and Jack walked in, carrying a care package.

“We come bearing gifts!” Jack announced dramatically, holding up a bag of various snacks and drinks.

“How’s the patient?” Luke asked, grinning as he approached the bed.

You rolled your eyes, feeling a bit better at the sight of them. “Surviving, barely. What did you guys bring?”

Luke started unpacking the bag. “Ginger ale, crackers, some magazines, and—” he paused for effect, pulling out a stuffed animal, “—this little guy for moral support.”

You laughed, despite yourself. “Thanks, guys. You really know how to spoil a girl.”

Jack plopped down on the edge of the bed, looking at you sympathetically. “You look like death warmed over.”

“Thanks, Jack. That’s exactly what I needed to hear,” you replied sarcastically.

Quinn smirked, watching the banter. “She’s tougher than she looks. You should’ve seen me last week.”

Luke grinned. “Yeah, she handled your ass like a pro. We’re just here to repay the favor.”

Jack nodded, handing you a magazine. “Here, this should keep you entertained while you’re bedridden.”

You accepted it with a smile. “Thanks. You guys are the best.”

“Just don’t get too close,” Luke added, holding up his hands in mock defense. “We’re not trying to catch whatever you’ve got.”

Quinn laughed, shaking his head. “You two are ridiculous.”

Just then, Luke picked up the familiar UMich blanket from the foot of the bed. “Hey, isn’t this—” he paused, realization dawning on his face. “Wait, y/n, you’ve been using this?”

You nodded, amused. “Yeah, it’s really warm.”

Luke immediately dropped the blanket, his face scrunching up in mock disgust. “Yucky.”

Jack burst out laughing. “Wow, Lukey, you really are a germaphobe.”

You chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Quinn rolled his eyes playfully. “Alright, you skid-marks. Let’s give her some peace and quiet. She needs to rest.

Luke and Jack stood up, waving as they headed out. “Feel better soon!” they called in unison.

Quinn turned back to you, his eyes soft with affection. “You’ve got a pretty good support team.”

You smiled, feeling grateful for all of them. “Yeah, I do.”

Quinn helped you lie back down, brushing a kiss on your forehead. “Get some rest, love. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

As you drifted off to sleep, you felt Quinn’s hand holding yours, his presence a comforting anchor. Despite the flu, you felt incredibly lucky to have him—and his idiotic brothers—in your life.

A week later, you were feeling much better. You and Quinn were lounging on the couch when his phone rang. It was Jack.

“Hey, Jack. What’s up?” Quinn answered.

You could hear Jack’s voice through the phone. “Hey, so… Luke’s feeling sick. Like, really sick. We think he might have caught whatever y/n had.

Quinn glanced at you, a knowing smile on his face. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, and you guys are the pros at this whole taking-care-of-sick-people thing now, so… could you maybe come help out?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Quinn grinned, shaking his head. “Sure thing, Jack. We’ll be right over.”

As Quinn hung up, he turned to you. “Looks like it’s our turn to repay the favor.”

You chuckled, standing up. “Let’s go take care of our walking bacteria cell.”

Quinn laughed, grabbing his keys. “I guess what goes around comes around.”

And with that, you both headed out, ready to rescue Luke from his own misery.

#nhl x reader #nhl hockey #be4chywrites #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #hughes

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bonecaffeine · 1 year ago

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Tsuchigomori nsfw alphabet - A, B, E, K, O, U, X.

A/N: Greetings and salutations. This is going to be the very first post of this account! It's mainly going to be focused on Tsuchigomori from TBHK since this man has very few fics and I am here to change that. So please, dear Tsuchigomori enthusiasts, flood my ask box with him. Sfw and nsfw requests are all very much welcome!

Tw - 18+ content, read at your own risk.

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Tsuchigomori is truly a sweetheart after intercourse. He'd coo to you how well you did and then proceed to clean you off, help you put your clothes back on, cuddle you to sleep or even run you a warm bath. He may me strike as someone who is cold and unbothered but on the inside he cares a lot.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

I don't think this man has a genuinely favorite part on his body... it's not that he's very insecure or something, he's just quite indiffirent about his physical appearance. However, if he really had to choose it would be his hands, all six of them. Tsuchi likes how convenient they become when he gets to touch you, so you are in luck if you are starved of physical affection.

When it comes to his partner, it's their thighs that are his favorite. So kissable, so squeezable, so soft... Tsuchigomori also adores their s/o's pretty face.

E = Experience (how experienced are they in bed?)

He has lived for more than 70 years, probably way longer than that, so he definetly has experience. His body count isn't too high, as he's someone who takes intimacy seriously, yet he's tested the waters enough to be a satisfying partner in bed. That being said, he's also quite inquisitive so he's always open to be better.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

This man is most definetly into bondage. He'd be the type to tie his partner up in his own silky web and watch them surrender. Seeing his s/o squirm against the soft fabric around their skin as Tsuchi's hands travel all around their body is something that gets Tsuchigomori off so badly.

Dirty talk is something up Tsuchigomori's alley as well. He just likes to see his partner react to it: their flushed cheeks, their flustered smile or an awkward attempt to look away and put up a tougher exterior. It brings a shit eating grin to Tsuchigomori's face because he knows exactly what to say to get you going.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving)

He mostly likes to give - he has a long tongue and all so you know he puts it to great use... though if his partner would want to return the favor, he absolutely wouldn't mind.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Teasing is something so effortless to Tsuchigomori, it almost comes naturally. Like the sadist he is, he'll find enjoyment in your embarassed, hot and bothered mannerisms. He'll purposefully make eye more contact with you or point out how flustered you're getting as if he wasn't aiming to get a rise out of you in the first place.

X = X-ray (let's see whats going on under those clothes)

If you look at this man and don't think that he gives off big dick energy you are simply lying to yourself. I mean come on, he's not only very tall but also a yokai. That being said, he's longer and thicker than average, but only to a point where it doesn't become an inconvenience.

---

Alright folks, that's all for now. I may do a part two because there are still a few letters left. Let me know what you think:3

#tsuchigomori x reader #tsuchigomori #toilet bound hanako kun #tbhk #tbhk tsuchigomori #tsuchigomori smut #Tsuchigomori-sensei #I am lowkey so afraid to post this what if my family and friends find out about this acc #tsuchigomori headcanons #toilet bound hanako kun x reader #toilet bound hanako kun headcanons

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thefloorisbalaclava · 2 years ago

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Aight I neeeeed more size kink stuff with ghost, I don’t have a specific idea in mind I’m just pathetic

pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader words: 751 warnings: SMUT [thigh riding, size difference/kink, simon gives off some dom vibes here]

a/n: ain't gonna lie to y'all, i listened to some audio this morning and dude was talking about thigh riding, so that's the only thing on my mind rn. enjoy

[masterlist]

Simon cages you in with his arms, and you blink up at him, breathing heavily. A sly little smirk appears on your face, but he pretends not to see it.

Or, instead, he ignores it to focus on something else.

There has always been something inside of him that reacts when he notices just how small you are to him, mostly in height. He towers over you easily, even more so when you kneel for him.

He thinks he might break you one day, but you’ve proven yourself tougher than some may think. You can handle him. And even when you can’t, you never want him to stop.

“What’s so funny, little girl?” he finally asks, and bite your lip. Without a word, you reach up and put your hands on his forearms. You don’t even try to wrap your hands around them because he knows you can’t, but just seeing how small your hands are compared to his forearms has him taking a deep breath beneath his balaclava.

“Nothing,” you tell him innocently.

“Hm,” he grunts, moving one hand and bringing it to your cheek. He could cover your entire face with one hand and your neck, well, his hand fit as well as any necklace.

He drags his thumb along your lips before pushing it into your mouth. You take it eagerly, biting down gently.

“You like when I make you feel small, love?” he asks, slowly pumping his thumb in and out of your mouth. “Nah…” He pulls his thumb out in favor of slipping two of his fingers in your mouth.

You make a small sound, and he chuckles.

“Too much?” he asks. He slowly slides his thigh between your legs.

“Mm mm,” you mumbled around his fingers, shaking your head.

“Nothing’s too much for my girl, is it?” He presses his thigh up against your crotch. He takes his fingers from your mouth and then uses his hands to pin your hands against the wall as he rubs his thigh against you even harder.

“Look at that. Look how I can use just one of my hands to pin your wrists.” He moves one hand away to show you. “God…the size of you…,” he groans.

“Simon,” you whimper.

“Go on…” He has you on your tiptoes from pressing his thigh between your legs. “Use me. No hands, though.” He glances up at your wrists stuck under his hand.

You grind your pussy against his thick thigh and close your eyes. Simon uses his free hand to grab your face, and you open your eyes.

“Eyes stay on me, love.” He presses his forehead to yours, eyes boring into yours.

“K-Kiss me,” you whine. He moves in, but only the material of his balaclava touches your lips. You can almost make out the shape of his lips through the fabric, so you kiss back reluctantly.

“I’ll give you a proper one once you finish,” he says before looking down at you struggling to move along his thigh. He lets go of your wrists, and your arms fall limply to your sides.

Suddenly, he grabs your hips and, with an almost painful grip, begins to slide you back and forth on his thigh.

“I can move you however I want, can’t I?”

You nod, pouting slightly as the pleasure overwhelms you.

“Aw, is someone not getting her way?” he teases, sliding you back and forth faster. Your toes are barely touching the floor now. Your body starts to tense as you feel the orgasm washing over you. You grab his arms to keep yourself steady, which only eggs him on. Your small fingers dig into the skin of his arms as you cry out for him, your thighs trembling against his.

You rest your head against his chest weakly. The only thing keeping you upright is his thigh and his hands at your hips.

“Good girl,” he says sweetly. He finally pulls the balaclava up and off and kisses you.

“That…was so…unfair,” you say between kisses and catching your breath.

“How do you think it feels when you tease me, hm?” He smiles against your lips when you roll your eyes. As a warning, he presses his thigh between your legs.

You hiss. “Sorry, sorry, sorry! Fuck!”

“Down you get.” He pats your ass as he stands up straight and lets your feet touch the floor again. “Can you stand?” he teases.

“Fuck you, Simon.”

“I was hoping that would happen next,” he says, and you both chuckle.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cass answers #call of duty modern warfare II

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mydearyanderes · 2 years ago

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Yandere Katsuki x Childhood Bestfriend! reader

Warnings: Mentions of bullying and sexual harassment

- Katsuki liked you from a young age, always showing off his many supposed skills to you even as children

- If a kinder approach doesn’t work, then he isn’t above bullying you into submission, even if it makes you like him even less than you already do

- He thinks he’s the best, why wouldn’t you want a total catch like him? Would totally be delusional in the sense that he thinks that you like him back and you’re just playing hard to get

- As children, he forces you to play with him and his group constantly, making sure you stay by his side the entire time. His entire focus is on you, chasing only you in tag, trying to find only you in hide and seek, etc.. He wants to make sure that you think he’s the best in every way, because in his young mind he is the best!

- As you two get older, things get worse. Much worse. Even if you were kind, bending to his every whim, he’ll still bully, ridicule, and harass you. That was just how love was shown in his house, and of course he wants to show you that he loves you!

- It starts light enough, around the age of 13-14 he’ll force you two to date if you two haven’t already. He’ll force you to beg your parents for a phone so he can keep tabs on you even when you two aren’t together.

- Once puberty hits, he’ll start touching you way more often, whether or not you want his advances. He’ll slap your ass as you walk by him, pull on your nipples, call you disgusting and humiliating names, worst of all he’ll steal things from you and will only give them back for physical favors.

- He’ll make you walk home together after school, and he’ll pretend you need help with school so he can “tutor” you after school. In reality it’s just him ridiculing you about how dependent on him and how stupid you are compared to him. Of course he’ll help you with your work if you actually need it, just expect him to make you feel like a piece of shit for needing his assistance. You better thank him for helping you too, since his entire self esteem settles on the fact that he’s better than everyone

- Once it gets time for Katsuki to join UA, he’ll do anything in his power to make sure you don’t join, assuming you’re strong enough to go in the first place. Just thinking about you out on the battlefield, getting attacked by a villain because he wasn’t there... the paranoia would kill him.

- Even with him gone, it feels as though his reins on you are tougher than ever. Because he can’t be around you as much as he used to, his possessiveness will increase tenfold, making sure that you text him near constantly, and visit him even more than that.

- Don’t you dare try to escape him while he’s in UA either, he’ll track you down and keep you on an even tighter leash than before, even if he can’t kidnap you at that moment.

- Be careful, since he’s known you his entire life, not only is his bond with you strong, but so is his knowledge about you. Will you try to evade him, knowing it’ll cause him to get extremely angry, or will you know your place, and submit to the man that is totally and wholly in love with you?

#bnha #mha #yandere #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere katsuki #x reader #yandere x reader

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alittlegiraffe · 9 days ago

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Title: Ink for You

You’d been thinking about it for months, but every time you came close to making the appointment, nerves got the best of you. It wasn’t that you were afraid of needles or the pain—hell, you’d been through worse things in life. It was the weight of the decision.

Marshall had tattoos everywhere, several of them dedicated to you, and while he’d never pressured you to get one, you knew it meant something to him. It was his way of immortalizing the people and moments he cared about.

You wanted to do the same for him. You just weren’t sure how he’d react.

One evening, as you lay on the couch scrolling through your phone, your eyes landed on a photo Marshall had posted years ago. It was a close-up of one of his tattoos—a simple design with your name woven into it.

Your heart clenched. He’d gone out of his way to show the world how much you meant to him, and you wanted to return the gesture.

Decision made, you grabbed your phone and texted a local tattoo artist you’d been following for months.

You: Hey, is there any chance you could fit me in this week?

The reply came quickly:

Artist: For you? Absolutely. What are we doing?

You: Something small but meaningful. It’s a secret.

---

The shop was cozy and welcoming, its walls lined with photos of past clients and sketches of designs. Your artist, a laid-back guy named Ricky, greeted you with a warm smile.

“Alright,” he said, leading you to his station. “What are we working on?”

You pulled a folded piece of paper out of your pocket, smoothing it out on the counter. It was a simple script of Marshall’s name, paired with a tiny heart.

Ricky raised an eyebrow. “This for your husband?”

You nodded, feeling a little shy. “Yeah. He’s got a bunch of tattoos for me, so I figured it’s time I return the favor.”

He grinned. “That’s sweet. Where are we putting it?”

You tapped the inside of your left wrist. “Right here. Close to me.”

The buzz of the machine was oddly soothing, and you found yourself relaxing as Ricky worked.

“You’re handling this like a champ,” he said, wiping away excess ink.

You chuckled. “Guess I’m tougher than I look.”

When he finished, you stared at your wrist, a smile spreading across your face. The tattoo was perfect—clean and elegant, just like you’d envisioned.

“Marshall’s gonna lose it when he sees this,” Ricky said, handing you a mirror.

“That’s the plan,” you replied with a grin.

---

You waited two days before showing him. You wanted the tattoo to heal a bit first, but also, you needed time to work up the courage.

Marshall was in the kitchen when you decided to finally go for it. He was leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone, completely unaware of what you were about to do.

“Hey,” you said, walking over to him.

He looked up, a small smile tugging at his lips. “What’s up, baby?”

You took a deep breath, holding out your wrist. “I, uh… I got something for you.”

His eyes dropped to your wrist, and for a moment, he just stared. Then his lips parted slightly, and he reached out, his fingers brushing over the fresh ink.

“You… you got my name?” he asked, his voice soft and almost disbelieving.

You nodded, suddenly feeling nervous. “I wanted to. You’ve got so many for me, and I figured it was about time I did something like this for you.”

Marshall was quiet for a long moment, his thumb tracing the letters on your skin. When he finally looked up, his eyes were shining.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“I know,” you replied. “But I wanted to. You’re my person, Marshall. I wanted it to be permanent.”

He let out a shaky laugh, pulling you into his arms. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You smiled against his chest. “I try.”

Pulling back slightly, he tilted your chin up so you were looking into his eyes. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.

“Good thing it’s not up to you, then,” you teased.

He laughed, kissing you deeply. “You’re stuck with me now, you know that, right? Forever.”

“Forever,” you echoed, your fingers brushing over your tattoo.

And in that moment, you knew you’d made the right choice.

-------

Author's Note: This felt more like how I'd do a tattoo, but I'm terrified of needles so...

#eminem #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers x reader

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kentobb · 2 months ago

Text

hiromi higuruma x female secretary (AU).

chapter 16 > chapter 18

warnings: kidnapping. gun mentions. suggestive content.

chapter 17

The dimly lit basement reeks of dampness, and the faint sound of dripping water echoes in the background. Your heart races as you struggle against the ropes biting into your wrists and ankles. The muffler tightly wrapped around your mouth makes it hard to breathe, and the tears falling from your eyes blur your vision.

The sound of footsteps sends a chill down your spine. You turn your head to see him—Toji Fushiguro. He’s leaning casually against the doorway, spinning his gun lazily around his finger, his expression disturbingly calm, as if this were just another Tuesday for him.

“Awake already?” he drawls, his voice low and mocking. “That sedative usually knocks people out a little longer. Guess you’re tougher than you look.”

You whimper, trying to form words through the muffler, but all that comes out is a muffled, panicked cry.

Toji smirks and walks closer, crouching in front of you, his sharp eyes scanning your tear-streaked face. “Go on,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. “Scream all you want. Nobody’s gonna hear you down here. Soundproofing does wonders.”

Your eyes widen, your fear intensifying. You shake your head frantically, trying to scream, but the muffler stifles every sound.

Toji tilts his head, his smirk growing. “Come on, don’t look at me like that. I’m actually doing you a favor, you know. Teaching you a little lesson about trust.” He leans in closer, his face inches from yours. “Never trust a man with a gun and no morals.”

Tears stream down your cheeks as you try to push yourself back into the sofa, desperate to create even a little distance between you and him.

“Aw, don’t cry,” he says mockingly, feigning concern. He reaches out and wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb, his touch cold and unfeeling. “You’re gonna make me feel bad.”

You flinch at his touch, your body trembling.

Toji chuckles, standing up and walking a few steps away, casually spinning the gun again. “You’re probably wondering where you are, how long you’ve been out, all those fun questions. Well, let me save you the trouble: you’re nowhere anyone would think to look, and you’ve been out for, oh, let’s say… a few hours. Enough time for your boyfriend to start losing his mind.”

The mention of Higuruma sends a pang through your chest. You want to scream his name, to beg Toji to let you go, but the muffler keeps your words trapped.

Toji sits down on a nearby chair, watching you intently. “You know,” he muses, “you’ve got some fight in you. I like that. Makes this more interesting.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But let me be clear: you’re not leaving here until I say so. So get comfortable, sweetheart.”

You feel utterly powerless, every ounce of control stripped away. The tears won’t stop, and Toji watches them fall with an almost amused expression.

“Let’s see how long you last,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with menace. Then he leans back, spinning the gun one more time as if this were just another game to him, while you’re left to fight against the fear consuming you.

Higuruma’s penthouse is filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the faint hum of security chatter on the radios. Higuruma sits at his desk, staring at the laptop screen. His jaw is clenched so tightly it aches, but he doesn’t notice. The grainy video playing in a loop feels like a personal torment—a reminder of how he failed to protect you.

In the footage, Toji Fushiguro carries you effortlessly over his shoulder, your body limp, your head bobbing lifelessly. Higuruma’s sharp eyes catch the way your arm dangles unnaturally, and it sends a chill down his spine.

Were you unconscious? Drugged?

Toji walks down the hallway with casual confidence, stopping only to shoot out the security cameras with a silenced pistol. Each flash of the muzzle feels like a jab to Higuruma’s gut. He rewinds the footage for the fifth time, his mind racing.

“This doesn’t make sense,” he mutters to himself. “How did no one see him coming or leaving?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to suppress the wave of frustration threatening to overwhelm him. You were right there—so close—and now you’re gone.

Suddenly, a commotion outside snaps him out of his thoughts. Raised voices echo from the hallway, growing louder by the second. Higuruma glances at Gojo and Nanami, who are seated nearby. Both men stand as the noise escalates.

“What now?” Higuruma mutters, rising to his feet.

They step into the hallway to find Utahime in a heated argument with two of Higuruma’s guards. She’s livid, her face flushed with anger as she waves her arms dramatically.

“Let me through!” she yells, her voice carrying down the corridor. “You think I’m just going to stand by while she’s missing?”

The guards stand firm, blocking her path despite her attempts to shove past them. Behind her, Geto stands awkwardly, his hands in his pockets, clearly trying to remain calm.

“Ma’am, we can’t let you in without clearance,” one guard says, his tone strained.

“I don’t give a damn about clearance!” Utahime snaps. “She’s my best friend, and I need to see Higuruma now!”

Higuruma steps forward, raising a hand to signal the guards to let her through. “It’s fine. Let her in,” he says, his voice low but commanding.

The guards exchange uncertain glances before reluctantly stepping aside. Utahime storms past them, her fiery gaze locking onto Higuruma the moment she sees him. Without hesitation, she strides up to him and slaps him hard across the face.

The sharp crack of the slap reverberates through the hallway, and everyone freezes. Gojo’s eyebrows raise slightly, but he doesn’t intervene. Nanami watches stoically, his expression unreadable.

Higuruma doesn’t flinch. He stands still, his cheek stinging, but he doesn’t make a move to defend himself.

“How dare you?” Utahime’s voice shakes with emotion, her hands trembling at her sides. “You were supposed to protect her! She trusted you, and now look where we are!”

“Utahime—” Higuruma begins, but she cuts him off.

“Don’t you dare try to explain yourself!” she yells, her eyes filling with tears. “Do you have any idea what she’s going through right now? She’s out there, alone, scared—because of you!”

Higuruma’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t argue. He knows she’s right. He deserves every word.

Geto steps forward, placing a hand on Utahime’s shoulder in an attempt to pull her back. “That’s enough,” he says softly, his tone gentle but firm. “This isn’t helping.”

“No, it’s not enough!” Utahime snaps, shrugging off his hand. She glares at Higuruma, her voice breaking. “You think saying you’re sorry is going to fix this? You think promising to find her is enough? You don’t know what it’s like to lose someone you care about!”

Higuruma’s eyes darken at her words, but he still doesn’t respond.

Geto gently but firmly pulls Utahime back, guiding her toward the hallway. “Come on,” he murmurs. “Let’s take a moment to breathe.”

As she’s led away, Utahime shoots one last glare at Higuruma. “If anything happens to her, it’s on you,” she says, her voice trembling.

Geto glances at Gojo as they pass, murmuring a quiet, “Sorry about this.”

Gojo nods, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

Higuruma exhales sharply, rubbing his temples. The weight of the situation feels heavier than ever.

Nanami steps forward, his tone calm but firm. “We don’t have time to lose our heads. Let’s focus on what matters—finding her.”

Higuruma nods, straightening his posture. “You’re right,” he says, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “We focus. No distractions.”

Gojo smirks faintly. “Good. Because if we don’t find her soon, Utahime might just come back to finish what she started.”

The attempt at humor doesn’t land, but it breaks the tension slightly. Higuruma takes a deep breath and turns to his security team. “What’s the latest?”

One guard steps forward, holding a tablet. “We’ve reviewed the footage from the complex. Toji Fushiguro left no trail. He disabled the cameras after leaving her apartment.”

Higuruma’s fists clench. “Then look harder. We don’t stop until we have something.”

The guard nods and retreats, leaving the three men standing in heavy silence. Higuruma glances at Gojo and Nanami, determination burning in his eyes.

“We’ll find her,” Nanami says with quiet confidence.

“We have to,” Higuruma replies, his voice low but resolute. “I won’t lose her.”

Toji leans back in his chair, spinning the gun idly in his fingers as he watches you squirm on the sofa. Your muffled cries and frantic attempts to plead for mercy seem to amuse him. His sharp eyes gleam in the dim light, and a small, crooked grin plays at his lips.

“You’re really trying, huh?” he mutters, shaking his head. “I can’t understand a damn word you’re saying, but keep going. Might as well get it all out.”

You stare at him with wide, terrified eyes, tears streaming down your face. The cold metal binds around your wrists and ankles dig into your skin, and the gag in your mouth muffles your sobs.

Toji sighs, reaching into his pocket. “You know,” he begins, pulling out a folded photograph, “this wasn’t always my life. I wasn’t always this guy.”

He unfolds the photo carefully, smoothing out the creases with an unexpected tenderness. He holds it up so you can see—a picture of a woman. Her smile is radiant, her eyes warm and full of life.

“This,” he says, his voice softening slightly, “is my wife. Was my wife.”

Your tear-filled gaze shifts to the photograph, and despite your fear, you notice the genuine fondness in his tone.

“She was…,” he continues, his eyes fixed on the picture. “She was the light in my life. Made me feel like I was more than just a guy with blood on his hands. She was… everything.”

For a moment, his expression is almost serene. But then, it hardens. He lowers the photograph and looks at you, his smile vanishing.

“She was murdered,” he says bluntly, his voice flat but laced with an undercurrent of rage.

You flinch at his words, your heart racing even faster.

Toji leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he clasps the photo tightly. “You know what the justice system did? Gave her killer fifteen years. Fifteen,” he repeats, his voice dripping with venom.

He locks eyes with you, and you see the pain buried beneath his steely exterior. “Guess who represented that scumbag in court?” he asks, tilting his head.

Your mind races, but you already know the answer.

“Higuruma,” Toji says, his lips curling into a bitter smile. “Your golden boy. He’s the one who got that bastard a slap on the wrist. Said he deserved a second chance.”

Your breath hitches as Toji’s gaze pierces through you.

“Do you think that’s fair?” he asks, his tone deceptively calm. “Fifteen years for taking someone’s life. For taking her life.”

You don’t respond, frozen in place. Even if you weren’t gagged, you wouldn’t know what to say.

Toji chuckles, a hollow, bitter sound. “Yeah, I thought so. Even if you could answer, what would it change?”

He sits back again, his hand resting on the gun in his lap. “The system failed me,” he says simply. “It failed her. So now, I’m taking matters into my own hands. If the courts won’t give me justice, I’ll get it my way.”

The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air. You see the raw pain in his eyes, the grief and rage that have consumed him. But there’s also a chilling certainty in his voice—a conviction that makes your blood run cold.

“I’m not the monster here,” Toji says, his voice low and firm. “I’m just cleaning up the mess your boyfriend helped make.”

You try to shake your head, try to plead with him, but Toji raises a hand, silencing you.

“Save it,” he says. “You’re just a piece of leverage in this game. Nothing personal.”

He leans back, watching you with a detached curiosity. “Cry all you want,” he adds with a smirk. “Scream if you feel like it. No one’s gonna hear you down here anyway.”

And with that, he gets up, leaving you trembling and alone in the dimly lit basement.

The night drags on, heavy and silent, except for the occasional clink of glass as Higuruma downs another drink. The burner phone sits on the coffee table in front of him, taunting him with its stillness. His bloodshot eyes remain fixed on it, waiting, hoping it will ring and give him something—anything.

Gojo leans against the wall nearby, arms crossed, his usually playful demeanor replaced with concern. He exchanges a glance with Nanami, who looks equally worried.

“Higuruma,” Gojo says softly, breaking the silence. “You need to get some rest.”

Higuruma doesn’t even look up, swirling the amber liquid in his glass before taking another long sip. “I can’t,” he mutters, his voice hoarse. “Not when she’s out there. Not when I haven’t found her.”

Gojo pushes himself off the wall, walking closer. “You’re running on fumes. If you burn out, how are you supposed to help her? Let me take over for a few hours. Just rest.”

Higuruma glares at him, the exhaustion and anger in his eyes almost palpable. “Rest? While she’s tied up somewhere? Terrified? I can’t, Gojo.”

Before the conversation can escalate, Nanami steps in. His calm, authoritative voice cuts through the tension. “Gojo’s right. You need to rest, even if it’s just for a couple of hours. You’re no good to anyone like this.”

Higuruma opens his mouth to argue, but Nanami places a firm hand on his shoulder, guiding him toward the spare room in the penthouse. “Come on,” Nanami insists. “If she knew you were tearing yourself apart like this, do you think she’d want that?”

The mention of you softens Higuruma’s resistance, and he lets Nanami lead him away, though the tension in his shoulders doesn’t ease.

As the door to the room closes, Gojo sighs and sinks onto the couch. “He’s going to break himself if we don’t find her soon.”

Geto walks over, his presence calm and grounding. He places a hand on Gojo’s shoulder, his touch light but reassuring. “How are you holding up?” he asks quietly.

Gojo looks up at him, his usually vibrant eyes dull with worry. “I’m worried about him. He’s blaming himself for everything. I’ve seen him stressed before, but this… this is different.”

Geto nods, his expression understanding. “He’s in love. That kind of fear eats you alive.”

Gojo leans into Geto’s touch, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I just wish there was more I could do. Watching him like this—it’s brutal.”

Nanami walks back into the room, catching the tail end of their conversation. His sharp eyes immediately notice the way Geto’s fingers linger on Gojo’s shoulder and the way Gojo looks up at him, soft and vulnerable.

Nanami stops in his tracks, blinking once, twice, and then it clicks. Oh. They’re definitely fucking.

He exhales through his nose, rolling his eyes. “Of course,” he mutters under his breath, choosing to ignore it entirely as he joins them by the coffee table.

“What’s the status?” Nanami asks, his tone all business again.

“The security team is still combing through camera footage from around the city,” Gojo replies, leaning forward. “They’re casting a wider net now, looking for any trace of her or Toji’s car. It’s slow, but we’ll find something.”

Nanami nods, his jaw tight. “We don’t have time for slow,” he says, his voice edged with frustration.

Geto steps in, his voice calm. “We’ll find her, Nanami. But we need to keep a level head. Panicking won’t help anyone.”

Nanami sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I know. I just—” He cuts himself off, glancing toward the closed door where Higuruma is supposed to be resting. “He’s not going to survive this if something happens to her.”

The three of them fall into a heavy silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. In the background, the security team continues their work, reviewing footage frame by frame, their determination matching the desperation of everyone in the room.

As the hours drag on, the tension remains thick, but the unspoken bond between them keeps them moving forward. They will find you. They have to.

#jjk #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk smut #fluff #angst #smut #higuruma hiromi #hiromi higuruma #higuruma fluff #higuruma angst #higuruma smut #nanami #gojo #geto #utahime

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