#it means a lot thank you for sending this ask

[lockefanfic]

Last Chance

“Come over?”

You knew what the message meant, what she was asking for. What else could she mean, sending you that text at near midnight on a Friday night? 

The night air is crisp as you leave your friend’s apartment, where his yearly Inbetween-Christmas-and-New-Years party was raging. It seemed to only get colder as you stood on the sidewalk waiting for your ride, and the Uber driver’s seeming reluctance to crank up the heat in his car meant that the ride across town to her apartment was almost equally as chilly. 

Her building was a lot warmer, thankfully, and when she opens the door and greets you with a smile she gives you all the warmth you need.

“Come in,” Chou Tzuyu says with a small wave of her hand and nod of her head. “Drink?”

“I’ve had plenty at the party,” you admit, “but wouldn’t say no to water.”

“Good choice,” she says with a sly smile, cracking open her fridge to pull out a jug. “Gotta stay hydrated.”

You watch as she pours you a glass, her back turned to you as you enter her small but nicely furnished kitchen. She’s wearing a short, tight t-shirt and what were probably the tiniest pair of green cotton shorts known to man. The fit left much of her midsection and all of her long, shapely legs bare, highlighting the wideness of her hips and the fullness of her thighs. You hadn’t thought it possible, but she almost looked as attractive with the flimsy scraps of cotton on her as she did without them.

She hands you your glass of water, tapping it with her own as you both take sips and step into her living room. 

“Had a real shitty week,” she says, unprompted, as though she somehow felt the need to justify calling you over on a Friday night, felt the need to justify what the both of you were about to do. “Kind of need to blow off some steam.”

“Fair enough. Work again?”

“Yeah,” she says with a sigh under her breath, leaning against the arm of her couch, where you join her. “Big project due next week that’s kept me at the office most nights. And…”

“And?”

“There’s this guy.”

You sigh, inwardly, hiding your reaction behind another sip of water. You feel a sting somewhere in the depths of your heart, one you do your best to keep hidden behind the barrier of nonchalance that you’d worked hard to maintain with her.

“Oh?” you manage.

“Co-worker,” she says, softly, after another sip. “Yeah, yeah, I know, ‘don’t date co-workers.’ But I’m pretty sure he’s into me, y’know? And I’ve been into him since, well, forever ago. But I’m so frustrated, because he won’t make a fucking move, no matter how many signals I send his way.”

“...and you’re into him?” you ask, even as the words hurt to say.

She fumbles a bit with the glass in her hand, staring down at it as though she were looking for the answer to your question in the transparent liquid that it contained.

“Well, yeah,” she admits. “I know I should really keep it professional, considering how long we’ve been working together and how much I rely on him at work, but… I dunno. I dunno what to make of it, that’s all. I just wish he’d call me or something, get it over with, one way or another. Was kind of hoping he’d ask me out over the holidays, but nothing.”

“Ah,” you admit. “Maybe he’s just not into girls that aren’t hot enough to be invited to  Inbetween-Christmas-And-New-Year’s parties,” you tease. “I wouldn’t be either, to be honest.”

Tzuyu smirks and gives you a playful swat on the arm, the smirk turning into a warm smile. “Thanks for coming over,” she says, softly. “I need this.”

“I mean, I had to leave an above average Inbetween-Christmas-and-New-Year’s party because my moderately attractive friend across town needs my dick in her so she can get over some guy at work, but sure, I guess I kinda need it too.”

Tzuyu giggles - a soft, musical sound you never tired of hearing. 

She locks eyes with you for a moment, and in that split second you feel disarmed, as though she sees right through you, right through the humor and sarcasm and other defenses you’d put up to keep her from seeing the real you. You worry, for a moment, that she sees right through your sarcastic, aloof facade you forced yourself to wear lest she see how you really felt about her.

The moment is fleeting, though, and after she takes your glass of water and places it on the coffee table next to hers, the look you find in her eyes is altogether different. There’s hunger there now, and need.

She pulls you to your feet, wraps her arms around your neck, and your heart stops beating for a moment when your lips touch. 

Gentle, soft at first, as it always was, because despite being friends with benefits for a year or so and friends for much longer you both never quite got over that initial awkwardness, those odd, clumsy moments when you both knew what you wanted but weren’t quite sure how to go about initiating the process to get it.

You liked to think it was because you were both hopeless romantics at heart, and something within you both thought that sex without the feelings was beneath you, was something only indulged in by desperate single people who couldn’t get into a relationship to save their lives. Perhaps it was because neither of you wanted to be the one to admit, at least on the outside, that this was just for pleasure, that you were using a friend for an orgasm or two and that was it, end of story, we now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

But the feeling quickly fades amidst the feel of another body pressed to yours, and soon the kiss becomes heated. Tongues dance, mouths open, your lips crush against each other. Your hands roam - yours around that tiny waist of hers, hers around your neck, fingers furrowing into the hair at the back of your neck. You pull her against you and her body molds to yours, warm and soft and pliant.

You break the kiss, eager to have more of her, your heart pounding now, so loud you fear she might hear it pounding out of your chest. She gasps as you dive into her neck, her hands weaving further into your hair, nails digging into your scalp. She tilts her head to the side, gives more of herself to you.

“Fuck,” she hisses, between gritted teeth. “Fuck. Need this.”

You devour her neck, finding and fixating on those sensitive spots where you knew she loved to be kissed. Your hands slide up her back and cup her ass and you’re thankful again that she decided to wear such a flimsy outfit that did little to hide the wonders of her body. 

She pulls away for a moment to pull her shirt up and over her head and she’s topless now, her hands working on your own clothes and divesting you of your button-up and t-shirt you wore beneath it. You come together again and the thrill of her soft, warm breasts pressing against your chest takes the breath away from your mouth for a moment, even as she covers your newly breathless lips with a kiss. The stiff peaks of her nipples press against you, tight and needy, sending a shiver up your spine.

You reach down, pick her up with your hands beneath her ass - and she giggles again as you carry her toward her bedroom. Her legs wrap themselves around your waist, her arms around your neck, but she weighs nothing against the need for her that gives you all the strength you need. She’s smiling and laughing and she’s everything you could ever want, right there in your arms.

She’s yours, and she’s not.

You drop her onto her bed, where her landing gives those small, perfect breasts of hers a delightful looking bounce. Your eyes find hers and for a moment, a split second, you’re afraid again - that she can see right through you, find the way you really feel about her beyond the hunger and lust and need. 

Because Chou Tzuyu is perfect - when she’s topless on her bed, lips slightly parted, eyes hooded, yes - but she was also perfect when you met her in your senior-level psychology lecture, perfect when you helped her move into this very apartment, perfect when you went out for dinner after she landed her first big job in her field; the very same one where she’d meet the guy she was apparently so very into, the same guy you most decidedly were not, the same guy you were apparently a substitute for on a lonely Friday night.

You need her - that perfect, tight body, the wide hips and full thighs, the round, perky breasts and the beautiful smile - but in ways beyond the physical. You need her beyond lonely weeknights and 2am weekend hookups. You need her for Sunday mornings at the grocery store where you both plan your lunches for the week, you need her for vacations in Fukuoka and Amsterdam and Vancouver. You need her for random, candid photos on your phone during a coffee date where she believes, ridiculously, that she were anything less than perfect in your eyes.

But she’s not yours - at least, not in the way you would like. She’s half-naked on her bed and you’re between her spread thighs and she’s looking at you like she wants to devour you whole and somehow, someway, that’s not enough. It would never be enough. But it’s all you have. It’s all she can give you.

You bend to kiss her, and being past that clumsy, awkward initial phase, the kiss is heated, passionate. It’s also a short one, because the rest of her body beckoned, and you didn’t possess the patience or self-control to deny yourself what was yours to take. You indulge in the delights of Chou Tzuyu’s body because it’s a distraction from the feelings that you fear might take over if you indulge them, if you let yourself dream about what your life would be like if she weren’t just a friend, weren’t just a Friday night fuck.

You kiss a path down her neck, to her sharp, prominent collarbones, each soft peck eliciting a little gasp or hiss from her lips. When you reach her breasts she’s practically begging, back arched off the mattress, desperate to have your mouth on her. She loved having your hands on her small mounds, your lips locked over her nipples, licking and sucking. Smaller boobs are more sensitive, she’d said once, only half-jokingly, and you never forgot it.

You give her what she wants - what you both want. Your mouth latches on to one breast, lips closing over her tight nipple and sucking, licking, lightly biting.

Tzuyu moans - a long, languid sound of pleasure, her loudest of the night. You never tired of hearing the pleasure leaving her lips in long, wordless drawls. It was like music. It was a song that only she knew the lyrics to, that she performed only for you, and you never tired of hearing it play.

Your mouth and hand swap, your lips latching tightly to her other nipple while you squeeze the other one with an open palm, relishing the feel of the soft flesh beneath your fingers. 

You spend a little longer on her right breast, because you knew it was somehow more sensitive than the other one - just another of those small things you knew about her body that no one else did. Another fact about Chou Tzuyu that belonged just to you, that you held tight against your chest and treasured greedily. You loved knowing that you knew things about her body no one else did. 

You loved knowing that you were the only one who knew these dirty, filthy little things about her, and that you were the only man on earth she trusted with them. The thought of sharing that knowledge with another man - or even worse, of losing access to it altogether, having it taken away from you by some random asshole who didn’t know these things, hadn’t worked to learn them - made you feel something dark and upsetting, something between fear and anger.

Tzuyu is a moaning and sighing mess now, her legs wrapped around your lower back, her own back arching up and off the mattress in an attempt to offer more of her body to you. Her nails dig little spikes of pain into your scalp with each suckle you draw from her nipple. Her thighs part even further and you feel the warmth between them pressing against your belly, even through the green shorts riding up her hips. She moans and writhes beneath you and if you’d spent the rest of the night with her breasts in your mouth and under your palms you would’ve been satisfied with that alone.

But she has other ideas - wants more, craves more. The fingers she’s woven into your hair push you downward. You release her stiffened nipple from between your lips with a pop, gazing up momentarily to find her looking back at you, cheeks flushed, eyes half-lidded, a sigh on her lips. Their corners perk up in a barely noticeable, shy little smile.

Her tongue darts out, moistens her full pink lips, and you catch the unspoken request.

You bend your head again, returning your lips to her skin, starting a trail down her flat stomach, taking care to press a soft kiss on that cute belly button of hers. You open your eyes to watch her abs flex with every movement, delighting in the sight and feel of the tight muscle beneath the perfect, creamy skin. Hers was a body she’d spent many long hours in the gym and pilates studio for, and you were more than happy to make sure she knew how worth it it all was.

You reach her shorts, eventually - the flimsy strip of soft green cotton that was just barely enough to provide her with some measure of modesty. You take a moment to admire the way they sat on her hips, the way her full, flushed thighs look spread beneath them. She squirms under your gaze, her hips searching for friction, begging you to get them off her.

Your patience outlasts hers, because she’s the one to reach for the buttons keeping the shorts closed. You consider stopping her and undoing the buttons yourself, but there is a part of you that needs to see her undress herself for you, needs to watch her reveal her most intimate parts to you and you alone.

Thin, dainty fingers make quick work of the button, and she raises her hips, hooking her thumbs into the waistband and pulling them off her hips. You make way as she pulls the shorts off the long, endless length of her legs. She tosses them aside, over the side of the bed, where for all intents and purposes they cease to exist.

Her thighs remain tight together for a moment, only a few moments - and in those seconds her eyes are locked on yours, capturing and holding every ounce of your attention. Her thighs part, her legs spread and allow you back between them, but your eyes hold her gaze regardless. Her eyes tell you she wants you to relish the way she looks, naked and vulnerable, her body spread and laid out for you to take, to make yours for the rest of the night.

“Fuck, Tzuyu,” you mumble, unable to really say anything more than her name.

She smirks, those wonderful lips of hers curling into a smile. Without further word she grasps your skull with her palms and gently pushes you down towards her waiting pussy.

Her cunt is beautiful, like the rest of her - flushed and pink and glistening in the soft light of her bedroom, the insides of her thighs already moist with her juices. You bend down and give her a long, slow lick from the base of her opening to the top. The taste of her floods your palette just as the sound of the gasp that leaves her lungs fills your ears - a sound that is quickly muffled by the closing of her warm, moist thighs around your cheeks and face.

You do it again, give her another lick from bottom to top, then a third. You swirl her juices around on your tongue, relishing the taste of her. She’s squirming now, writhing, waiting for you to really commit to pleasuring her, her back arching and her nails digging more incessantly into your scalp.

You take a glance up at her - a viewpoint that you were truly blessed to bear witness to - past the flat planes of her stomach, between her heaving breasts, and finally to her face, flushed and pink, lower lip tucked under teeth, eyes fixed on you. She does it again - communicates her need without words, telling you, begging you, to give her the pleasure she so desperately needed. 

And so you do, bending and closing your lips around the tender bud of her clit, your tongue darting out softly, gently, avoiding the sensitive nub and instead licking around it, tracing soft, slow circles around it, just the way you knew she liked. 

The wordless song that has been leaving her mouth all night hits a higher tone, another octave as you work her over with your tongue. Everything intensifies for Tzuyu - the pleasure coursing up her spine, the wetness between her legs, the volume of the moans leaving her mouth. Her head falls back, eyes shutting, mouth now permanently ajar.

It intensifies for you, too - the pinpricks of irritation her nails are digging into your scalp become painful nails, the wet warmth of her thighs closes ever more around your cheeks, and the slick wetness of her cunt increases, making your lips and chin slick. You continue to swirl your tongue around the tender flesh surrounding her clit, neither increasing nor decreasing in pace - simply maintaining your current one, knowing from experience what made her body work, what would give her the most pleasure.

Tzuyu becomes a mewling, quivering mess beneath your tongue. The moans and profanities leaving her lips continue unabated. She forces herself every now and then to open her eyes, glance down at the top of your head nestled between her spread legs, the mere sight of you there, in her most intimate area with your lips around her clit, enough to send yet another spike of pleasure up her spine and into her addled brain. 

“God, fuck, that feels so good,” she manages to gasp, her brain barely able to form recognizable words out of the stream of sounds leaving her mouth. “Fuck, keep going.”

You knew where exactly where she was, what level of pleasure she was experiencing - knowledge that was the product of many a night doing exactly this, pleasuring her just the way you were now. You knew that she was right there, dangling on the precipice, and that she needed just that one last nudge, one last push.

You slip your right hand from where it was wrapped around her thigh, sliding it beneath her, bringing your fingertips to her drenched opening. She gasps as she feels your fingertips at her thus far neglected entrance, knowing what it means, knowing what is about to come. You can almost feel her pussy writhe and ripple around your fingers, now a knuckle deep, urging you, begging you deeper.

“Please,” she gasps, and you oblige. You slide your index and middle fingers inside her, palm up, and the effect on her body is immediate. Her moans cut out, her entire body goes rigid for a moment, as though shocked by lightning. The silence left by the cessation of her moans leaves only the sound of her body writhing on the bed to fill your ears, along with the wet slickness of your fingers moving inside her.

Throughout it all your tongue is swirling around her clit, merciless, unwavering in its pace and depth and pressure. Your fingers are ones pushing her, upping stakes, sliding slowly deeper inside her slickness, curling upward, searching, finding, then teasing.

It takes only a few seconds of your fingertips grazing that most sensitive part of her before Tzuyu orgasms, taking herself by surprise almost as it did you. Her world explodes, her body goes stiff, her eyes shut and for a few wonderful moments all she sees is stars.

You almost have to fight to hold her down with your free hand flat on her tense belly lest your mouth lose contact with her spasming cunt. You fight to keep your tongue and fingers moving, if at a slightly slower pace, letting her ride it out, letting her feel and relish every second of the pleasure coursing its way through every fibre of her being. She’s quiet through it all, mouth frozen in a silent scream, which was rare - she was usually one to announce and talk through her pleasure, but here she was, rendered unable to even moan.

“Fucking hell,” she spits, sometime later when she is able to form words again. Her body is suddenly boneless and sinking into the mattress, utterly drained. Her thighs finally loosen around your head, much to your chagrin, because you’d grown fond of the sticky warmth you’d found between them.

She pulls your face up toward her, and you delight in the tour you’re given of her breathless, sweaty body beneath you as you crawl up the bed until you’re face-to-face. When you reach her lips she captures yours in a tight, passionate kiss, her tongue finding yours and tasting herself on its surface.

“I need you now,” she hisses, eyes boring into yours. You need her too. You always have, truth be told, but perhaps not in the same ways that she needed you. You want to say something, lying here, inches from her face, her eyes needy and vulnerable. But the words never come. The moment passes.

Before you can react any further her hands slide from your head to your shoulders, where she gives you a gentle push onto your back on the bed. She rolls atop you, straddling your hips.

There’s a coy smile on her lips as she undoes the belt at your waist before undoing the button and fly of your jeans and pulling them down your hips. She lets out a soft giggle as you raise your hips and pull the clothes off your legs as though they were on fire. This is all a game to her, a release, a fun, if momentary, distraction. The realization of that stings a little, somewhere deep inside you, where she can’t see the hurt she’s caused to you.

When you’re finally as naked as she is, she straddles you again. Your eyes find hers, as they always did, drawn to them, magnetically, as though you could always find what you needed in them. The small moment of levity and amusement she gained from watching you desperately undress disappears, replaced again by need and desire. 

Her tongue slips out between her lips when she gazes down and sees your cock, hard and aching. Her hand reaches out to grasp it and you feel the air rush out of your lungs at this first intimate contact. She brings your tip to her entrance, dragging the head up and down through her lips, lathering it with her slick juices.

You want to say something, want to tell her how utterly captivating she looks on your lap, your cock at her entrance; you want to tell her how much you wish you were about to fuck your girlfriend or your wife and not just a friend; you want to tell her how the very thought of another man being where you are, right now, upsets you more than you had any right to be.

The moment passes - again. You slide inside her, and suddenly words don’t exist any more.

The sight of Chou Tzuyu impaled hilt-deep on your cock is like nothing else you’ve ever experienced, like nothing else you ever will. She’s feminine perfection, right here, on you, wrapped around you. 

Her head is tilted back, mouth open in a silent moan, eyes shut, brow furrowed, as though deep in concentration. Her breasts are perfect and round and her nipples taut. Her abs flex - defined, toned. And her thighs - perfect, full, flushed. She’s more than you can take. She’s more than you can keep.

It’s a feeling that is only intensified when she begins to move, begins to use those strong, firm thighs and hips of hers to move herself up and down your cock, slowly, with soft, measured movements. She lets herself get used to you, get used to that delicious stretch of you inside her. It’s painful, in a way, how slowly she’s moving - it takes more self-control than you’d care to admit not to just hold her hips down and piston into the wonderful slickness of her cunt.

But hurting her was the last thing you wanted. If only she’d known how much she was hurting you. You wonder if she would stop if she knew. You wonder if she would even care.

Eventually she ups her pace as her body molds itself around you. She’s beginning to sigh and gasp now, mostly on the downstroke as your cock slides inside her, spreading her apart and stretching her out, sending shocks of pleasure throughout both your bodies with each entry. Your hands are firm on her hips, resisting for now the temptation to reach up and play with her softly bouncing breasts, or pull her back down onto your cock with more force. You’re content, feeling her, watching her take her pleasure from you.

Watching her use you.

Tzuyu feels your eyes on her, roaming her body, drinking in the sight of her. One hand reaches up to her breasts, capturing one, teasing the taut nipple for a moment with long, dainty fingertips, giving you a show. Eventually she brings both her hands to her scalp, gathering her hair, pulling it above her head and holding it there. She’s a vision, then and there - her hands above her head, back arching, breasts bouncing wildly as she continues to ride you.

“Jesus, Tzuyu,” you spit, the profanities tumbling from your mouth before you even knew you were speaking them. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

She lets her hair fall from the top of her head in a chocolate waterfall. Her hands cup her own breasts, fingertips playing with her aching nipples.

“You like me like this, baby?” she hisses, a question she knows the answer to. “You like me like this, bouncing on your cock, all tight and wet for you?”

“Fuck, yes, Tzuyu, fuck.”

Her lips curl into a wicked smile, before her lower lip curls under a perfect white tooth. She lets something deep and guttural escape her throat behind her bitten lip.

She bends over you, hands on either side of your head, hair framing a face twisted in pleasure.

She ups her pace, riding you fiercely now, hips slamming down onto yours at a pace that is almost violent. Your hands grasp her thighs, fingers clawing into the soft flesh, feeling the muscles beneath them work to throw their owner against you over and over and over.

“Fuck me,” she snaps, and you oblige.

You thrust upward to meet her, timing each movement of your hips to match with the downstroke of hers, and soon you are slamming your bodies against each other at a merciless pace.

Tzuyu shrieks - loud, sharp. She swears and spits and she’s becoming a loud, mewling mess atop you, but throughout it all she manages to keep riding you, keep bouncing that perfect body of hers atop your cock. Her cunt pulsates, squeezes you like a velvet glove. She’s so wet, leaking with so much arousal, that every slamming of your hips against each other is muffled by the wet stickiness that has coated much of your lower bodies.

“Oh god, oh god, I-” she begins, each word punctuated with a thrust of your cock into her cunt. “Oh fuck, I, so good-”

You watch her, watch that perfect face of hers twist in pleasure, watch as that perfect body of hers takes your cock. Your brow furrows and your hips burn with the effort but you feel none of the fatigue, none of the weariness of the physical effort. All that matters is her pleasure. All that matters is making sure she-

“Cumming-” she hisses, just barely before she does. 

Her eyes shut, body stiffens, just as it did when she came on your mouth - and her cunt tightens wonderfully around your cock, pulsating, squeezing. You bury yourself inside her to the hilt, wanting to feel every second of her orgasming around you. You can feel the shocks of pleasure radiating from her, reaching her limbs, flooding her brain with sensation. 

When she remembers to breathe she lets out a long, drawn out breath. Her arms, shaky, finally give way and she collapses atop you, head next to yours. For a few long seconds she does nothing but breathe heavily against you, the gasps and sighs that leave her mouth loud against your ear. Your hands roam her sweat-slick back, fingertips tracing a path down her spine and pulling a soft sigh from her tired lips.

“God,” she says into your ear. “Fuck, that was so good, baby.”

You loved and hated when she called you that. It was a pet name for lovers - and she only used it during sex. She only ever called you by your first name anywhere outside the bedroom. Another reminder of the boundaries. Of the limits.

“You feel amazing, Tzuyu,” you say, truthfully. Her cunt is still pulsating softly around your painfully stiff cock as the last waves of her orgasm leave her body. The warm slickness of her around you made a pleasant distraction from your emotions. Pleasant, but not easy.

You feel her lips curl into that sly smile of hers again against your cheek. She plants a few kisses under your ear, tracing a path along your jaw, until she finds your lips. Her hips begin to move again, side to side - not taking you in and out of her body, but just moving you around, swirling your stiffness inside her.

“Your turn, baby,” she whispers, half-lidded eyes locked on yours. “How do you want to cum in me?”

You’d had her in every position imaginable over the time you’ve been fuck buddies. But you always enjoyed one of them more than the others.

“Want you from behind-” you begin. “-Tzu.” you finish, resisting the temptation to call her ‘baby.’ Some small, bitter part of you felt she didn’t deserve to be called that, not if she was going to tease you, hurt you with its use, make a weapon out of it that she wielded carelessly, inconsiderately.

Thankfully, she doesn’t notice your momentary hesitation - maybe she was still recovering from the high of her orgasm, or maybe she was too focused on gyrating her hips around the stiffness still hilt-deep inside her.

“Alright, baby,” she says, again, the word stinging even if it was laced with the sweet honey of her voice. The smile on her lips is proof of how oblivious she is to the damage she wreaks with each wreckless use of it. 

You didn’t blame her. How could you? How could you expect someone to know what you felt internally when you continually denied it externally?

You’d promised each other, when you first started this little arrangement, that you’d put an end to it if either of you found yourselves with anything even remotely resembling feelings for the other. But how could you end it, when you’re in her bed and you’re both naked and she’s wet and ready and on her hands and knees, looking over her shoulder at you, slick pink lips opening to say-

“Come take me, then.”

A stronger man would have ended this a long time ago. You were not that man, not today. You doubted there were many men in the world with that level of strength.

You bring yourself behind her, admiring the sight of her - perfect, as she always was, perfect in every sense of the world. She’s creamy skin and a tiny waist and those hips and thighs, my god, those hips and thighs. She’s there and wet and ready and wanting and who could say no?

You bring your tip to her opening, parting her lips with your head, swirling it, swiping it up and down her slick flesh, sending a shiver of pleasure into both of your bodies. She sighs and her back arches delightfully, the dip of her spine sharp and prominent in the low light of her bedroom. She mewls and sighs, her hips pushing back against you, needy, wanting.

“Fuck, baby, come on,” she sighs, she begs. 

You loved her voice, soft and light, like silk spun into air - but you loved it most when it was begging, needy.

Her hips continue to push against you, the round cheeks of her ass pressing against you, trying to pull you inside her herself. “Please,” she continues, airy and breathless. “Put it in me. Don’t you want my pussy? Don’t you want me?”

You did. You wanted her, but in more ways than this. Chou Tzuyu is on her hands and knees in front of you and she’s dripping wet and begging and somehow it’s not enough.

One of her hands slides down her body, and her fingertips part the slick lips of her pussy. She’s glistening and pink and pure distilled need, right there, right here, ready for you to take. 

And she doesn’t give a damn about your feelings, is blissfully oblivious to everything but the emptiness between her legs. All she wants is a fuck. That’s it. That’s all you are. You’re everything and nothing, all at once.

“Look how empty I am without you inside me, baby. Come fill me up.”

You slide inside her - how could you not, after hearing that? She’s so tight and hot and wet, and you forget, momentarily, everything other than the feel of her cunt wrapped around you.

You fuck her - hard, firm, your pace fuelled more than you would care to admit by a darkness inside you that you weren’t proud to admit to. Jealousy, of some man you’d never met, some man who made her feel like you never could? Anger, at her, for not seeing how you felt about her, how amazing you could be together?

Whatever it was, it was ugly and came from a dark place, and you didn’t want to acknowledge it. But you fuck Chou Tzuyu with it running through your veins - fast, hard. And she sighs and moans and thinks you’re just especially turned on today, want a harder fuck than usual. She doesn’t know any better. Doesn’t know that you’re using her body the way you are, as an outlet for your frustration and anger as much as an outlet for your pleasure.

You reach forward, running your fingers through her hair with a surprising gentleness, even as your cock hammers in and out of her body, rocking it, pounding her.

Then your fingers close, pull. She yelps, gasps.

Her spine arcs sharply backward as you pull backward on her hair. You use her hair like a leash, pulling back as you thrust forward. Tzuyu can do nothing but take it, her body given to you fully. The spasming and quivering of her cunt around you is evidence of her acceptance, her submission. 

Your hips slap wetly against her ass with each hard thrust you make into her tight, slick pussy. The bedroom fills with it - flesh hitting flesh, wordless sighs and moans that turn into begging, profanity, name calling - the lewd soundtrack of sex.

“Fuck, fuck,” Tzuyu manages, “You’re so fucking deep, fuck, more, fuck me more-”

You shut her up. The hand pulling her hair wraps around her scalp, pushes her face down onto the bed. You pin her down, your palm flat against the back of her neck and upper shoulders. Throughout it all you are fucking her, using her, just as she uses you, even if it’s for different reasons, with entirely different depths of emotion.

Her mouth muffled against the bed, she’s unable to say or do much more. And you prefer her this way, because every word she says - even the ones that spur you into fucking her harder, faster, deeper - will only make it harder to leave her when you’re done.

Not that you needed much motivation to fuck her the way she liked - hard, deep, but not wild or uncontrolled. You maintain your pace, enjoying the way her cunt squeezed and tightened rhythmically around you. Tzuyu knew how to communicate with her body, knew how to tell you exactly what she wanted without words.

You watch her beneath you, relished the sight of her helpless and unable to do much of anything but take your cock again and again. Her moans and sighs are muffled by the cotton of her bedsheets, but you heard enough of them to tell you you were hitting just the right spots inside her. She’s under you and she’s yours and you do your best to stay in the moment, enjoy the feeling of her wrapped around you.

You feel that feeling in your core, the telltale building of pleasure in your gut that heralds your impending orgasm, tells you to fuck her harder and deeper and bury your cum inside her. She must have felt it too, somehow, in the slightly more erratic rhythm of your thrusts, or the tighter grip of your palm against the back of her neck.

Tzuyu turns her head enough to clear her mouth of the bedsheets, despite your palm on the back of her neck.

“Fucking cum in me,” she hisses, “Please cum inside me. Make me yours.”

The perfect words, on any other night - but on this night they only hurt you. 

Because she isn’t yours, might never be. Tomorrow, she might be another man’s. Even as you thrust harder and harder and your orgasm comes closer and closer all you can think of is how empty this feels, how even if she’s under you and taking your cum she’s not what you want her to be, what you need her to be.

But for a moment, a fleeting, blissful moment, you forget all that. Your hand leaves the back of her neck to join the other one at her hips, pulling her hips back against yours as you crest your peak, burying yourself inside her and letting go.

She moans as she feels you pulse inside her, each movement of your cock signifying another rope of warm, thick cum that fills her thirsty, needy little cunt. You give her a few more short, sharp thrusts before you bury yourself inside her for the last time. She’s so fucking full of you that your juices begin to overflow from her stuffed pussy, around the lips still tightly wrapped around your shaft, down your balls and her flushed thighs.

Time freezes, becomes irrelevant, and for a few blessed minutes you forget everything about the way you feel about Chou Tzuyu.

When your senses return and your brain has recovered long enough to process thought, the first thing you’re aware of is her voice.

“Fuck,” she’s saying, “God, that was… god.” And then she’s saying your name, and it makes you wince, as though hearing her say it caused you pain. 

You slip out of her, and she winces herself - although hers is borne of the emptiness you’ve left inside her and not out of any deeper emotion. She makes no effort to get off her hands and knees, staying frozen there, her ass in the air like some lewd testament to the sinful acts you’ve just committed. You watch, absent-mindedly, as your cum drips from her well-fucked cunt, down her thighs, staining her bed.

Eventually she falls onto her side, facing you. You’re sitting there, on your knees on the bed, watching her. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are glassy. She’s so perfect, so desirable - and you curse yourself for the millionth time that night that you lacked both the wisdom to find the words to say and the courage to say them.

But it doesn’t matter, because you’re not the guy she wants, not the one she’s waiting for a call from. And that’s when it hits you, dark and ugly and painful - you wonder if she were pretending you were him this whole time, pretending it was his cock fucking her, making her cum, cumming in her, using you like some fucktoy replacement for the real thing.

You turn away from her, as though the very sight of her were somehow painful to you, despite the fogginess of your post-orgasm haze. Before you know it, you’re climbing off the bed, finding your pants on the floor, throwing them on.

“Are you-?” she begins, her words soft as you find your t-shirt and button-up, throwing them on.

“I, uh, I have to get back to the party,” you stammer, hoping she would buy your flimsy excuse for an exit. But you had to leave, had to do anything to get out of that room. The thought of losing her, the thought of this being your last time together - it hurt, it was too much, and every fibre of you screamed to get away from it.

“Oh,” she says, softly. You turn to find that she’s sitting up on the bed now, her arms wrapping around her knees.

“There’s, uh, my friend, he, he introduced me to this girl,” you mumble, fabricating a story, trying to come up with some way to hurt her, just as she’s hurt you. “I told her I’d, uh, get back to the party. She likes me, I think,” you add, the words tasting like ashes in your mouth.

“Right,” she says, surprise and something else in her low voice. Her knees come up closer to her chest. “So, um, hey, about that guy-”

“Good luck with him,” you spit, cutting her off, afraid of what you might hear if you let her continue. “Uh, let me know how it goes.”

There’s a short silence, one that drags on for longer than you’d like. You don’t look up at her, unable to muster the courage to do so. You fumble with your shirt buttons, fingers numb.

“Sure,” she says, finally. “I… I think I’m going to call him tomorrow.”

“Right. I, uh, I should go. I’ll. Uh. I’ll talk to you later,” you say, as you turn towards her bedroom door.

You think you hear her say something, a couple of words.

Your eyes finally look up at her, but she’s looking away. You look for confirmation on her face, but she’s turned away from you, and her expression is unreadable. She suddenly looks small and vulnerable.

“Did- did you say something, Tzuyu?”

“Nothing,” she says, a hand pressed against the side of her face, her eyes shut, as though she were suddenly fighting a headache. But just as quickly it appears, it’s gone, and Tzuyu manages a weak smile, even if there’s no happiness or mirth in her eyes. “It’s nothing. Be safe getting back to the party, okay? And don’t forget your jacket - it’s cold outside. Let me know when you get there.”

“I, I will, Tzuyu,” you say, words shaky, unsure. “See ya.”

You leave her, leave her hot, stifling apartment.

The night is cold.

Author’s Note: High five to you if you guess what she said.

[hueseok]

can’t stop thinking about boyfriend!yoongi who in a way, found his match with you.

for decades, his oldest friends always teased him for being the textbook definition of ‘nonchalant’, labeling him as a stoic man who loved to pretend that he didn’t care about anything—even though in reality, there were always a few tells that made it obvious that he did.

he was the type of guy who made it seem like he didn’t care if you forgot about his birthday, but would send a joke afterwards saying that he was disappointed that you didn’t remember.

or the type who acted like it didn’t matter to him if the meal he worked hard on cooking tasted delicious for your taste buds, only to grin really wide as soon as you complimented him and uttered a string of praises afterwards.

it was an endearing quality of yoongi’s, a rather fascinating trait that also became the butt of the joke at times whenever the topic was his love life and his bad luck when it came to relationships.

“you can come off as emotionally unavailable,” hoseok told him over beer once. “ladies don’t like that. they want men who can tell them how special they are.”

“isn’t it enough that i show it?” yoongi asked, having just been dumped by the girl he was dating. “i mean, i drive her to work every single day. i fetch her from work whenever i can too. i buy her stuff if it’s necessary, like shampoo or paper towels.”

hoseok stared at him. “paper towels?”

“yeah.”

“wow. i take it all back. you are the most romantic man on the planet.”

yoongi rolled his eyes at the sarcasm. “she mentioned she was running out of them so i bought more for her.”

“are you her dad or something?”

“i heard ladies like a provider.”

“yes, but not in that sense. it’s more like… you get the bill whenever you’re having lunch or dinner at a restaurant, or buying her a bag she’s been eyeing, or paying for her nails when she gets them done. doing all of that without not being asked is the key aspect of it, really.”

“how do you know this stuff?”

hoseok shrugged. “i have an older sister,” he says. “also, i’m engaged to my girlfriend of 6 years. being in a relationship that long ought to teach you a lot.”

thanks to that conversation, yoongi began understanding what it really meant to be a great and affectionate boyfriend without sacrificing his rather reserved personality. he knew what the right gestures to do, what the right things to say, what the right gifts to buy—and he did all of that with utmost sincerity, genuinely wanting to be a better partner for his current girlfriend, which also happened to be you.

the funny thing, though?

you couldn’t seem to recognize the nice boyfriend things yoongi was doing and how much he improved compared to his last relationship.

you were just… independent, he thought. a strong woman who didn’t like to be coddled and didn’t like asking help from anyone regardless of how much you may be already struggling. he had a realization that you were naturally like this because of the stories you used to tell him that made him understand that you just weren’t used to relying on others, a trait that he didn’t have an issue with and sometimes even admired.

however, he couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t sometimes frustrating as well.

for example, just last week, the both of you had a semi-big fight because of how you constantly insisted on changing the broken lightbulb in your bedroom yourself even though yoongi was already telling you that he could do it instead. in the end, since you were stubborn as hell, you still tried changing it on your own but had a very minor injury due to falling off the stool you were standing on for extra height.

yoongi was furious when he found out, and you ultimately became furious because it seemed like he was being unfair to you, the negative energy impacting your mood and rationality that you didn’t get how he was more mad on the fact that you let your pride get to you than just asking for his damn help for the freaking lightbulb.

when the both of you calmed down and said your apologies, yoongi took your hands and looked directly in your eyes. “babe, you have to start depending on me,” he said.

the straightforwardness caught you off guard. “huh?”

“i mean…” you felt him squeeze your fingers softly, “i understand that you’re used to doing things all on your own… how you don’t like being treated like some baby… but that shouldn’t be the case with me, okay? i’m here to take care of you, to always help you with whatever you need.”

you opened your mouth, about to say something he knew was not going to align with his point, so he took the liberty to cut you off.

“i’m serious. you know what i’m talking about. let me take care of you, ____.”

“but—” you couldn’t continue with your sentence, a wave of emotions suddenly flooding you that made your throat tighten and voice quiver as you began speaking again— “how? i… i don’t—i just… you don’t need to. i don’t want to be a burden.”

yoongi gave you a look, a mixture of fondness and disbelief. “you? a burden?”

“yeah. you don’t need to take care of me.”

“i’m well aware that you’re a grown woman who doesn’t need taking care of.” he joked. “but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to do it. that’s why if i were you, i would just start depending on my poor boyfriend and learn how to be comfortable in being taken care of because it’s definitely how things are going to be now that he’s here.”

you snorted at the use of third person. “fine,” you sniffled, “okay, i’ll try to be better at asking for help next time.”

he sighed in relief, releasing your hands to instead engulf you in a tight embrace. “thank you, baby. i appreciate it a lot.”

****

the first time you willingly asked yoongi for a favor after that talk—regardless of how small and trivial it was—it still affected him big time.

“can you help me assemble the drawer i bought?” you asked him over dinner, ever so casual and nonchalant.

he almost dropped the chopsticks he was holding. “what?”

“i said, can you—”

“no, i heard that perfectly well. i’m just surprised at what i’m hearing.”

your lips twitched while your face visibly burned. “don’t start teasing me or else—”

“i’m not.” he laughed, a little too loudly than usual, before reaching for your hand and kissing your knuckles. “i’m not, i swear. i’m just happy.”

“you’re happy because i’m asking for help?”

“i’m happy because you’re letting me take care of you,” he corrected. “it’s a bit overdue in my opinion but who am i to complain?”

you playfully shoved his hand away, which made yoongi laugh harder and lean towards you to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek, letting you know that your simple effort of trying to let him in meant so much more than words could ever say.

note. this blurb is unedited and has been in my drafts since december because it's always yoongi missing hours!!!!! but for real though, i wish yoongi is doing great and is always surrounded by good people who can give him the support he needs + remind him how loved he is :(

[mrsmangi]

Hello! Can I request the Spider Flower prompt for Lu ? <3

- 🪷 Anon

fries & milkshakes - luigi mangione

♡ flower prompt: spider flower - a joke about getting eloped turning serious - meaning: symbol of the willingness to start anew; an open invitation to explore the unknown. ♡ w.c.: 1.9k ♡ a/n: hi 🪷 anon! thank you so much for your request. this was such a cute piece to write, i'm a sucker for idea of eloping with a loved one. hope you enjoy!

♡ send me a flower & i'll write a drabble based off the prompt ! ↪ prompts that have been requested

You and Luigi are sitting in a cramped booth at an old diner off the side of the highway. A place you would only end up in when your plans have fallen apart. You had been driving back from a weekend getaway to Michaux. The plan was simple: a quiet two-day escape to recharge from the chaos of work and life. A little hiking, a lot of breathing space. As usual, though, nothing had gone according to plan. 

First, there was a flat tire. Then, the tow truck that took so much longer to show up than the both of you had anticipated. Finally, the rain. Not just a drizzle, but an unrelenting downpour that had washed out the hiking trail you had been so excited about.

Now, here you are–both of you soggy, exhausted, and a little more than irritated by the detour that had brought you to this roadside diner. It’s really nothing special. There’s faded red leather booths, yellowing menus, and waitresses that have permanent frowns. Still, it’s warm and it’s dry. It’s the only place you have to sit down and recuperate in.

You poke at your fries, listening to the steady drip of water from your jacket onto the tile floor. The music from an old jukebox in the back of the restaurant fills the silence. The rain continues to pour outside. You glance over at Luigi, who’s been oddly quiet for the past few minutes. He stares into his glass of water, leg bouncing beneath the table.

“This trip has been a disaster,” you mutter, breaking the quiet. You’re not really complaining, more so venting the frustration of how everything’s managed to go wrong. “We’ve barely had time to do anything we wanted to do.” 

“I mean, it was your idea to go hiking in the middle of a thunderstorm,” he says, teasingly. There’s no bite in his voice, just a weariness you find yourself sharing. 

“Okay, so yes, I may have underestimated the weather,” you admit, picking up your milkshake and swirling the striped straw in a circular motion. “But we could’ve at least had a nice dinner somewhere.” 

“Yep,” he sighs. “And now we’re here. Eating rubbery fries and soggy burgers.” 

You snort at the absurdity of it all. He’s completely right. All of it is far from ideal. “I guess it could be worse,” you offer with a half-hearted shrug. 

“You know,” Luigi says, “This gives us a great excuse to run away and get married.” He leans back in his rickety chair, fingers lazily drumming against the side of his water glass. The booth you share creaks under his weight. His tone is so casual, so offhand, that for a moment, you’re not sure if he’s joking. 

“Stop,” you say, laughing softly. You ignore the way your heart stumbles in your chest. “Luigi, that’s not something you just drop on a person in the middle of a conversation about fries and milkshakes.” 

“I’m just saying,” he replies, raising his hands in mock surrender. “We could take this as a sign. Skip the mess of planning, forget about this trip that doomed us to this inedible meal, and just leave. Fly out to somewhere sunny and warm. Forget all this nonsense. We’d just…go.” 

You can’t help but chuckle, dipping a fry into the glob of ranch on your plate. “Okay, enlighten me, then. Where would we go?” 

“Anywhere,” he says. “Vegas. You, me, one of those cheesy chapels with Elvis officiating. We could get hitched. Leave everything behind. Move to Hawai’i or California. Far from Pennsylvania.” 

You stare at him, caught between disbelief and amusement. “The west? Really?” 

“Why not?” he asks, leaning back into the cushion of the booth. “This whole trip’s been a mess. What’s stopping us from making it more memorable? Listen–” He sits up, leaning forward. “–just picture it for a second: a bad suit, a bouquet of plastic flowers, and you in some glitzy dress that you’d probably hate. But you’d look good in it anyway. ” 

His playfulness touches your heart, lingering. You hesitate, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. It’s not the first time Luigi has flirted with you, not the first time he’s thrown out a line like this, but it is the first time it feels like he might not be entirely joking. 

“Don’t say that,” you mumble, grabbing your milkshake and sipping just to have something to do. “You might make a girl think you’re serious.” 

“What if I am?” 

He says it, soft and unassuming, and you still. It’s strange to hear something like that from Luigi. The guy who always makes light of everything, always ready with a dumb joke or a clever comeback. Now, there’s no laughter in his eyes, no punchline waiting to land. You laugh uneasily, shaking your head, trying to process the shift in his tone. “Luigi.” 

His shoulders lift in a half-hearted shrug, but his expression doesn’t falter. “I mean it. You spent so much time planning our trip, planning our lives, (Name)–have you ever thought to plan, or at least think about, what our wedding could be like?” 

You pause. Of course, you’ve thought about it. Not only once, but often. You’ve thought about the way his laugh makes you smile on your worst days, the way he remembers your coffee order better than you do, the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re dozing off. The way his hand melts into yours, as if he was meant to hold it, forever. 

More than that, you’ve dreamed of what it would be like to marry Luigi Nicholas Mangione. Not in the grand, cinematic kind of way, but in a way that feels real, something that feels like you. It would be small and intimate, just the way you both would like it. Neither of you would want the chaos of hundreds of guests or the endless pressure to impress. You’ve pictured the kinds of flowers you would want–wildflowers, maybe. Simple and beautiful. The cake wouldn’t be enormous or extravagant, just enough to share a bite and maybe smear a little frosting on his cheek because you know how it would make him laugh. You’d stand in front of the people who matter the most to you–family, close friends, the people who know you better than anyone–and say the words you’ve only dared to whisper to yourself in the middle of the night. You wouldn’t care about fancy centerpieces, gold-rimmed utensils, or which fork on the table is meant for salad.

None of that has ever mattered to you, not really. All you’ve ever cared about is him. Luigi. The way he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world meant for him. You’ve thought about how his voice would sound when he finally says the words, “I do.” 

Afterward, there wouldn’t be a massive reception or an over-the-top honeymoon. It would just be the two of you, maybe sitting on the edge of a dock somewhere, with your feet dangling over the water as you laugh about how you almost forgot to exchange your wedding rings. You’d be wearing a white dress you found in the mall on a whim, something unpretentious but pretty, and he would be in a suit he’d probably complain about until the moment he saw you and forgot every reason he ever hated wearing it. 

You’ve always kept those thoughts buried, locked away like a secret too fragile to see light. You had convinced yourself they were one-sided, that you were simply too young to be committed permanently, that he couldn’t possibly want the same thing you did. And now, he’s looking at you with some kind of quiet, unshakable conviction, as if he’s already imagined all of it, too.

“I don’t…think we’re even close to that kind of conversation,” you manage to say, though you sound more uncertain of yourself than you would like. 

“Why not?” he asks, tone impossibly gentle, like he knows how easily you could back off. “What’s stopping us?” 

You can’t answer. Not because you don’t know, but because now, the longer Luigi holds your stare, the reasons feel less and less convincing. Every excuse you’ve told yourself–every hesitation, every fear–feels small in the face of the truth: you’ve wanted this for so long, and now, for the first time, it feels like he might, too. 

You swallow hard, fingers tightening around the soda glass as thought it might anchor you to reality. It’s so silly–he’s proposed to elope in a greasy diner as you two sit at a creaky booth, your ranch streaked fries growing cold on your plate. But the moment feels so undeniably right. 

Luigi’s fingers have already stopped their drumming against his glass. He leans forward, his dark eyes locked on yours, and for the first time tonight, there’s no teasing grin, no mischief. Just him, completely unguarded. 

“Will you?” he asks quietly.

Your eyebrows furrow. “Will I what?” 

“Marry me.” His words are clear and unwavering, leaving no room for ambiguity. “Run away with me. Forget about everything else–what people will say, the rules, the plans. Just you and me, baby. Start out life the way we want, no compromises. What do you say?” 

The question knocks the breath from your lungs. You can’t look away from him, even as your vision begins to blur with tears. Luigi isn’t joking–he’s really asking you. Here, in the middle of this old-fashioned diner, surrounded by the smell of greasy burgers and the clatter of dishes, Luigi is asking you to choose him. 

“Luigi,” you whisper, “are you sure?” 

“I’ve never been so sure of anything else in my entire life,” he says, moving closer to you from over the table. His hand reaches for yours, warm and steady over your own. “I love you, (Name). I want you. Not someday, not at a time where everything feels perfect. Right now.” 

You tremble as the tears finally spill over, streaking down your flushed cheeks. You laugh, shaking your head as if to steady yourself. “You’re crazy.” 

“Maybe,” he agrees, smiling faintly. “So? Will you?” 

“Yes,” you blurt out, soft laughter growing in volume. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Luigi. I’ll run away with you.” 

The smile that breaks out across his face is nothing short of beautiful. Before you say anything else, Luigi stands abruptly, pulling you up from the booth. You don’t care about the strange glances you get from the people surrounding you, just Luigi and the way his hands frame your face. The warmth of his palms as he wipes away your tears with his thumbs leaves you feeling whole. 

“Say it again,” he murmurs, his forehead pressing against yours. 

“Yes,” you whisper, barely able to contain your laughter and tears mixing into your voice. “A hundred times, yes.” 

He wastes no more time. His lips find yours in a kiss that’s everything at once—gentle and urgent, tender and fierce, a promise sealed between you two. You melt into him, hands clutching the front of his polo shirt, as if you’re afraid he might disappear. But he doesn’t. He stays, grounding you in reality. Sweet, sweet reality. 

When he finally pulls back, he still has his great, big grin on his face. “That settles it, then,” he says, kissing your forehead. “I can’t wait to start my new life with you.” 

“Me either,” you say softly. 

“One last thing,” he says, grin widening, tone light. “Can we get fries to-go?” 

“Yeah,” you laugh. “We’ll get milkshakes, too. For the road, of course.” 

He chuckles, taking your hand in his and tugging you toward the counter. As you walk, his hand never leaves yours, his pinky ghosts over your ring finger. You realize it then–that this messy, unexpected, perfectly imperfect moment–is the beginning of a fresh start: your happy ending.

[beomcoups]

Welcome to Aeris' 2K Celebration— You're all invited to the biggest party of the year where you (yes you!) walk away with a gift! I wouldn't have made it to 2K Followers without you and I want to give back to everyone who got me here. It's a 10-day celebration from 01/07/2025-01/17/2025 ✨ Without further adieu, welcome to the party, and remember to request your party favor on your way out!

🥂 Party Favor #1

── .✦ Pick any fic I have written (masterlist is here) and I will make a moodboard or playlist with a small excerpt from the story

🥂Party Favor #2

── .✦ Send in any drabble/one-shot under 8K that you have written and I will make a moodboard or playlist that fits your fic. (a chapter from a series is fine)

🥂Party Favor #3

── .✦ send me a bias from any group + a trope and I will create a moodboard with a prompt of my choosing attached.

If you want to leave a congratulatory word for the hostess, you can send an ask with the 🥂emoji.

Do you have any song recs? Send me a song with the 💿 emoji and I will take a listen :)

Everything will be added to an archive that will be posted when the party is over. Thank you to everyone who has supported me over the years. It really means a lot to me and I hope that we are all still here and thriving in 2025 :)

—with love, Aeris 𓇢𓆸

[fourteendaysinaweek]

Peter Parker Meets The Batfam

As seen on wattpad here and inspired by this post

A little one-shot that might have a p2 coming (ignore any inaccuracies with the batfam I had too many people I wanted to add and may have gotten confused. Oops)

Peter

I land hard on a rooftop, staring up at the gray sky in front of me. A shiver runs down my spine as I sit up, looking around. I don't recognize the skyline, the buildings are wrong, the sky is too gray for New York, not with the August sunshine we had less than two minutes ago.

"Strange?" I call out, careful not to be too loud. I know he was trying to get that cube— where did he send me? "Karen, where am I?" I'm met with silence as my heart speeds up. "Karen?" I do everything to bring her up to no avail. Did Strange figure out a way to disable her? No, he doesn't want me dead or lost— he just wanted me to stop. He knows Karen controls aspects of my suit and everything, he wouldn't disable her on purpose, right?

Okay, Peter. Think.

You're in a strange city, your AI is down, you have no idea where you are. What do you do? Go to a gas station and ask where you are. Wait no— I'm in the suit. I don't have to go to a gas station, I can just walk up to someone, everyone knows who I am. They'll assume that a bad guy got me lost.

I swing down from the rooftop and land in the street. Weird, not a lot of people out and about.

"Now what the shit is this?"

"Oh thank God I'm still in America—" I sigh and turn towards the cop. "Officer!" I walk towards him. "Excuse me, sorry, I was just in Manhattan fighting— and I seem to be lost— where am I?"

"...Gotham City."

"Fantastic— what state am I in? Is New York close to that?" He raises his eyebrow, reaching for his radio.

"Dick, you're gonna wanna see this." I smile awkwardly even though he can't see my mouth. Karen isn't working, and therefore the controls of my suit aren't either. "You don't know where Gotham is?"

"Uh— sir, you're city is very beautiful, but I attended public school, my geography isn't great, and I'm a little preoccupied trying to get back to the fight—"

"You've never even heard of Gotham?"

"Again, sir, I'm very sorry—"

"Okay, whats going on?" A very tall very muscular officer walks over. He then looks at me. "What the hell?"

"I— I'm so—"

"He says he's never heard of Gotham." The taller one raises his eyebrow.

"Never?"

"Look— I'm so sorry, but I need to get back to Manhattan, I was in the middle of a fight—"

"Who are you?" I blink.

"Who— who am I?" Suddenly I remember why exactly I was fighting Strange. "Oh. Um, I'm sorry, I'll figure it out, didn't mean to bother you, so sorry—" crap crap crap why is my first instinct Oh yay cops will help? I should know better by now—

"Just hold it—" I swing away, illiciting very loud noises of surprise from the two cops.

I end up back on a roof, another roof, and am aware of the trail I am leaving behind. I should stop swinging, so they can't track me. I take a deep breath and reach out with my senses.

"—swinging from webs?? I mean that's kinda cool, to be honest—"

"Just bring him in, be careful. We don't know what he's capable of."

"Yea, Tim. Fan boy later. Catch now."

"I don't know, even with the mask he seemed genuinely confused, like he really had never heard of Gotham."

"Oh, yea, Dick. Every single person on earth has heard of Gotham, if not for our fantastically high crime rates or Batman, then they know Mr. Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist Bruce Wayne—"

"Hey, no government names on the comms."

My blood runs cold. Who the hell is Bruce Wayne and why did they call him that— that's Tony. That's Tony. This... this is wrong, nobody else should be called that— not even as a joke.

I take a breath. Calm down, Peter. You've got this. You can do this.

Orange light washes over me and I look up, seeing Dr Strange looking down at me.

"Strange!" I attempt to swing back through the portal but my web fizzles and falls.

"Enjoy your new universe, Peter. I'll be back in a year to check on you."

"Dr— STRANGE!" I yell as the portal closes. My hair stands on end as I'm surrounded by seven masked forms.

"Who are you?" One in a blue mask asks. I recognize him as both one of the cops from earlier, and the one who was saying I seemed confused. He's also the one called Dick. Full name must be Richard.

"I could ask you the same, Dick." He clearly falters, and the others tense. I think back to his uniform.

"Name calling is going to get you nowhere."

"You think I'm joking, Grayson?" That gets him to freeze. "Should I go down the line?" Please don't call my bluff please don't call my bluff please for the love of whatever do not call my bluff—

"Nightwing, you know this... thing?"

"... you really don't know who I am?"  Strange said new universe. I don't know what I was expecting. "Spider-Man? I-I'm an Avenger? America's Favorite Avenger—"

"If this is some sort of weird power trip, like you think you're the greatest supervillain ever—"

"Villain?" I turn to the voice I recognize to be the one called Tim. "I'm not a villain!"

"Exactly what a villain would say." I look around, frantic.

"You have to believe me— I— the Avengers? Tony Stark? Nothing?" They all look to each other. I sink to my knees. "You don't have the Avengers. You don't have... anything." I hear static before a female voice begins speaking in their comms.

"I've got nothing on a Spider-Man, Tony Stark, or the Avengers."

"Of course you don't." They all stare at me as I sigh. "My name is Peter Parker. And I'm in the wrong universe."

"Okay, let's get that mask off and get you to a hospital—"

"Good luck getting my mask off, and I'm not going to a hospital. I need a computer. I have—"

"What do you mean, is your mask glued to your face?"

"No, Tim." He freezes. "It's nanotech. My AI controls it but because I'm in a different universe she doesn't work. I need a computer so I can fix her and then she can help me figure out interdimensional travel."

"How do you know our names?" The blonde girl asks.

"You should listen when your boss tells you not to use your government names on your comms."

"You hacked our comms?" I look at the one who looks like redskull but... less.

"No, I'm a superhuman. I heard you, literally."

"You... hacked our comms?" Dick says again.

"No, I— I didn't— I heard you— I have superhuman hearing?" I look around at them all. I sigh and listen closely. What can I hear... "I hear... something... or... no, someone running towards us? About... two hundred and fifty pounds? Something is flapping behind it— he's about a minute away based on his speed."

"How can you—"

"I told you, superhuman. Sort of. I—" I look at them, sizing them up. No, lifting one of them is probably going to get me attacked. I don't need that. They're not really setting off my gut, I don't feel bad about them. What can I do... I look around. "Ah!" I go over to a giant conveniently placed building air conditioning unit and lift it with one hand. "See? Superhuman. And three, two—" I point as a giant cloaked man appears. I was right, about two fifty. Mostly muscle.

"Meta." The smallest one mumbles. What the hell does that mean?

"Batman, he—"

"I heard." He narrows his eyes beneath his mask.

"Batman?" I say. "You really died on that hill?" Suddenly, my body feels heavy. Weak. "Crap—" I lean against the air conditioning unit.

"Are you alright, kid—"

"Don't call me that." I snap. "The only person who was allowed to call me that is dead— except no he isn't. He's in a different universe— god Mr. Stark, I wish you were here." I mumble that last part, it wasn't for anyone here. It was for him. "I'm fine, I'm just exhausted. I've been fighting an interdimensional sorcerer for like six hours and then I got dumped here, forgive me if I'm a bit tired." The man, Batman, nods.

"Alright, let's get you back to the cave. We can take a look and get that mask off so you can breathe better."

"My suit has a built in—" I stop. "No it doesn't, because Karen is down. Nevermind."

"Karen?"

"My AI. Do you have AI in this universe? Do you have computers—"

"Let's just... focus on you, okay?"

They all take me back to a giant tower.

"Bats, are we sure this is a good idea?" I hear Dick ask.

"He's a kid. He's scared and confused, not unlike how I met most of you. He thinks he's from a different universe, we—"

"I don't think I'm from a different universe, I am. And I'm not scared." They all stare at me again.

"When did you... gain the ability—"

"I was bit by a radioactive spider."

"Oh, metahuman." I furrow my brows.

"You call supers metahumans in this universe?"

"... you call them supers?" I nod.

"Well, sometimes. Other times they have a species."

"Like what?" I look at the blonde girl. I wish I knew all of their names.

"Well, my... kind of coworker Bruce got himself exposed to radiation and can shapeshift into a giant rage monster. I think he's got it under control now, but he accidentally exposed his cousin to it and now she can kinda do the same thing. Then there is Thor and Loki, they're just... gods, so, entirely different species there. Then there is Captain America, he is a super soldier, he was genetically modified to fight nazis. Bucky was also modified except he was modified by the soviets. And then we have uhhh Carol Danvers, she was modified by alien tech, and Natasha is just a trained assassin from... also the soviets? But yea, we're superheroes, so we're superhuman. What, are you guys metaheroes?"

"Vigilantes."

"Okay, moment of transparency, I know two of your names. I don't think it's a good idea for me to keep calling you by your government names while you're in the suit, so... what do I call you guys?"

"Nightwing."

"Redhood." Redskull looking guy.

"Red Robin." Tim.

"Spoiler." Blondie.

"Robin." Tiny one.

"Blackbat." The other girl, I can't see any of her skin or hair.

"Cat Girl." Short red hair and honestly comically large ears attached to her mask.

"And the girl on the comms?"

"... Signal." Dick, aka Nightwing, tells me. I look at Batman.

"And you're Batman. Great. I'm Spider-Man." My hair stands on end as two more figures approach from the sky. I tense before realizing that my new found... allies seem unfazed.

"Wonder Woman, Superman. This is Spider-Man. He says he's from a different universe and he can't get his suit off."

"You don't believe me, fine, I wouldn't believe it either. Is there a mind reader in this universe? Truth serum? Anything?" Everyone looks to Wonder Woman.

"I can use the Lasso of Truth."

"Perfect, hit me." She very carefully undoes the holster and a giant golden lasso unfolds. She takes my arms and ties it gently around them. It tingles.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Peter Benjamin Parker. I am a junior at Midtown School Of Science And Technology. I am Spider-Man, the vigilante hero turned Avenger after fighting Thanos in the Battle of Titan where I, along with half of the world's population, blipped. After coming back, I became a full-fledged Avenger." Everyone shares look.

"How did you get here?" She asks.

"A villain named Mysterio leaked my identity to the whole world and got me labeled as a terrorist. In my effort to fix things, I went to Doctor Strange, a sorcerer and fellow Avenger for help. He had a spell that could essentially turn back the clock and erase my identity from people's minds. I didn't want to go back to hiding things from my loved ones, so I asked for them to be excluded, but I accidentally broke the spell box and brought villains from other universes into my own. I discovered that the villains were misunderstood and hurting, and I am determined to save them from dying in their own universe. Doctor Strange did not like that and throw me here as a time-out. He said he'd back in a year." Wonder Woman nods.

"I see. Anybody else have questions?"

"How do you know our names?" I sigh.

"I told you. I have incredibly keen senses I could hear you all talking on your comms when you were chasing me."

"How did you come into your abilities?"

"Radioactive spider. Again. I already said this. Now can you please point me towards a computer?"

[oqwomyo]

3rd Anniversary. Boschi's card translation.

Part 1.

The day after talking to the butlers of the 2nd floor. After sending carrier pigeons... We decided to rest in Tobilis for a while.

- Tobilis Square -

- One day -

Would you like to go for a walk with me? That's how Boschi invited me... Boschi and I walked along the streets of Tobilis together.

Boschi: If you look at it that way... The atmosphere of the city is very different from the one during the wine festival.

Boschi: There was a huge party going on in the city at that time... But in reality, it's quite a decent town.

You: That's calming.

Boschi: Yes. ...Hm?

You: What's wrong?

Boschi: Nothing... I didn't notice that we had come to a place of nostalgia.

Boschi: Look, here. This is the place where we danced last time we came to Tobilis.

You: Oh, right.

Boschi: ...At that time... Hanamaru was dancing with the children to the point that it was becoming troublesome for him.

Boschi: It was attracting unnecessary attention... I can't believe I was dragged into this too.

You: But it was fun.

Boschi: ...Yeah. That's for sure.

Boschi: Well, sometimes... These things aren't that bad.

At that time... Some familiar children ran up to us.

*Step step step*

Children: Boschi-san and master! Good afternoon!

You: Hello.

Children: Hey, hey, where's Hanamaru~? We want to play!

Boschi: Tch... We're getting dragged into something again.

Boschi: I told you the other day that Hanamaru wasn't coming.

Children: Eh~, are you sure he's not coming? How boring!

Children: Well then, Boschi-san, come play with us instead!

Boschi: ...Hah. I won't do that.

Boschi: As you can see, I'm on a date with the master right now.

You: A date...

Boschi: What is it, Master? Do you have something to say?

You: N-No, forget it...

Boschi: Heh, is that so? Then you don't mind that we're on a date.

Boschi: ...Hey, kids. If you get what I'm saying, then play by yourselves.

Boschi: Time with my master is my priority right now.

Children: Wha~, that's too bad! Well, we didn't expect Boschi-san to agree to play.

Boschi: Then you shouldn't have asked me.

Children: We were just checking! Next time you come, bring Hanamaru!

Boschi: Okay, okay.

Children: Okay, then... Today we're playing tag!

Children: Ahaha! Tag! You're it!

Children: Ah! That's not fair! Stop!

*Step step step*

Boschi: These guys are noisy...

You: They're great.

Boschi: This Hanamaru... He can go and play with the kids.

Boschi: I can't believe they're just running around making so much noise... No amount of physical strength would be enough.

You: Yeah, that looks tough.

Boschi: Well, even so... I don't mind kids having fun.

Boschi: Looking at these guys... It makes me remember when I was a kid.

You: Boschi's childhood?

Boschi: Even when I was a kid... I wasn't that loud, but...

Boschi: When I was a kid... I had fun thanks to my grandmother.

Boschi: Thinking back... I feel relieved somehow.

You: I see.

Boschi: Yeah, childhood memories... They mean a lot to me.

Boschi: Memories of joy and kindness... I'll never forget them.

Boschi: No matter how much time passes... They'll always be there.

You: ...But now you sent the kids away.

Boschi: Heh... Didn't I say that time with Master is my top priority?

Boschi: While I'm hanging out with Master... How can I babysit children?

You: Y-Yeah...

Boschi: Besides... I'm not the kind of adult who can leave them good memories.

Boschi: Let their families and the adults in the city they live in do that.

Boschi: And someday... They'll look back with a smile on the memories those adults left behind...

Boschi: And this city... It will become a home for them, a place they'd want to return to.

You: Their hometown, huh?

Boschi: Yes. The place where they spent their childhood...

Boschi: That's the only reason they're so attached to it.

Boschi: ...Actually, I too...

Boschi: The Western Land, where I spent my childhood... I'm thinking of going back there.

You: The Western Land...

Boschi: I told you the other day, right?

Boschi: A future where we don't have to fight angels...

Boschi: I'll go back to the Western Land and live in nature. I'll live for myself and for what's dear to me.

You: You said that.

Boschi: When I was a child in the Western Land... I was very happy.

Boschi: When I lived with my grandmother... It's not like we had the financial means...

Boschi: I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a struggle.

Boschi: But... Back then, I lived only for myself and my grandmother...

Boschi: It... It was nice.

You: I see...

Boschi: So that grandma could live comfortably... I made a lousy chair...

Boschi: We went to the forest together... She also told me about medicinal herbs and wild plants.

Boschi: ...It's been 300 years already... I still remember it clearly.

You: It's a wonderful memory.

Boschi: Yes... That's right. ...I'll never forget it.

When Boschi remembers his childhood... He smiles happily. When you look at Boschi's happy face... One may think he had a happy childhood. I felt happy too.

Part 2.

The children from Tobilis... They were gone before I realized it. There was no longer the cheerful laughter or running footsteps in the square.

Boschi: When I grew up... Grandma died...

Boschi: As a demon butler, fighting angels... I live by helping others, just like grandma taught me.

Boschi: But for me... Her teaching was the only thing I protected.

Boschi: Fighting angels... I helped those I don't even know.

Boschi: Even from now on... This life will continue for a while.

You: ...That's right.

Boschi: ....

Boschi: But... Once all the angels are defeated, this life will end.

Boschi: When that time comes... I will stop being a devil butler and return to a normal life.

Boschi: Without any connections to the aristocrats... I will live as a man.

Boschi: Just like I once lived with my grandmother...

Boschi: I with my significant other... I'll live... Only for my dear master.

You: Thank you, Boschi.

Boschi: "Thank you"... These are my words.

Boschi: Thank you for coming to this world, master.

Boschi: I never thought about what would happen after I defeated the angels...

Boschi: After meeting you... I began to imagine the future.

Boschi: Before I met master...

....... Of course, I didn't plan to die so easily...

Boschi: I thought that one day, an angel would kill me.

The angel will kill Boschi... I remembered the battle between Boschi and Throne. And... The emotions I felt back then... A chilling fear ran down my spine.

You: ...If Boschi is killed...

Bosch: ...Gosh. What kind of face is that, Master?

Boschi: That expression doesn't suit you. Smile as always.

Boschi: ...Didn't I tell you? I will live for myself and Master.

Boschi: Until that happens... I will not die.

You: ...Uh-huh.

When Boschi saw me nod... He laughed again. And... He gently stroked my head.

Boschi: Sorry for such dark stories.

Boschi: ...I will not leave you. So don't worry.

You: ...I believe you.

Boschi: Yeah... That's good.

Boschi: Someday, I will... When I return to the Western Lands, I will live with Master.

Boschi: Without disturbing anyone... We will live together as we wish.

Boschi: For this... I will do anything.

Boschi: Never again... I will not let go of what is important to me.

Boschi: Having spent my entire life... I will protect Master.

You: ...I will protect Boschi too.

Boschi: Heh... I see.

You: I will grant Boschi's wish.

Boschi: Thank you, Master.

Boschi: ..But......"My wish".

You: Is something wrong?

Boschi: When you say, "My wish"... I might think that I am the only one who wants this.

Boschi: Lately, I have always... I have been saying that I want to live with Master in the Western Lands...

Boschi: Never before have I heard Master say... "I want to go to the Western Lands with you".

You: This...

Boschi: Master. Is this really just my wish?

Boschi: If Master wants the same thing as me... I want to hear it.

Boschi, having said this... He stopped stroking my head and took off the glove from his left hand. And he gently extended his hand to me.

Boschi: Will you come with me? Master.

Boschi: You will not regret it if you choose to live with me.

Boschi: Until the last moment... I will make you happy.

Boschi: Therefore... Choose me.

And I... Without thinking, I took Boschi's hand.

You: I want to go with you.

When I take Boschi's hand... He laughs happily and squeezes it tightly.

Boschi: You are brave, as expected of my master.

Me too, not wanting to lose to Boschi... I squeezed his hand.

You: You will make me happy, won't you?

Boschi: Heh... Of course.

Boschi: Do you think I don't look like a man who can make the people he cares about happy?

You: I have to try, I don't know.

Boschi: Of course you don't.

Boschi: Then... Spend a lot of time with me and find out.

You: Uh-huh...

Boschi will make me happy. With confidence in that... I looked at him.

You: Let's live together, Boschi.

Boschi: Yes... I promise.

Boschi: For that... We need to defeat the angels quickly.

Boschi: One more thing… I suddenly look forward to the future..

Boschi: Living together with Master in the Western Land…

You: How is it to live in the West?

Boschi: That’s right…. Just like before when Master went…

Boschi: The Western Land is rich in nature… A quiet, peaceful place.

Boschi: That’s why… We will live modestly close to nature.

You: Is that so.

Boschi: Hmm… But…

Boschi: For Master… It may be different from the familiar Central Land, so there may be difficulties.

Boschi: In order for Master to feel at ease… I have to think of something.

When I heard Boschi's words… I felt the warmth of our intertwined hands. I felt a strange relief when Boschi was with me. With Boschi by my side… I’m sure I can live anywhere. I thought about it calmly.

You: …Please, always be by my side.

Boschi: Hm?

You: That’s enough for me.

Boschi: …Being close to me is enough, you say.

Boschi: I can’t believe you want something so obvious… Master is selfless.

You: Eh?

Boschi: I… Just being close to you isn’t enough for me.

Boschi: That’s why… I want to always touch Master.

Boschi: Without Master’s warmth, I would feel uneasy… Together forever.

You: ………

Boschi: What is it? Master.

You: Of course, that’s fine with me too.

Boschi: Heh, is that so.

I didn’t want to break our intertwined hands. I wanted to always feel the warmth of Boschi's body. Before I realized it, my head was filled with such thoughts.

Boschi: …It’s not bad to be with a selfless Master who says that being close to me is enough for them, but…

Boschi: A Master who is greedy for me… That’s not bad either.

We held each other’s hands. A future where there are no angels... We will live happily together. While I was thinking about this... I mentally went to the Western Lands.

[deusfoundry]

Hii again, sorry if I'm asking for a lot of Cedric requests (you can ignore this if you'd like). But there's this idea that's been plaguing my mind, where Cedric has always been told he has a lovely, charming, or beautiful smile that brightens up people's day or anything of the sort. But to him he doesn't really know what people mean when they say that. Until he sees reader's smile that just instanyly brightens up his day. "7 billion smiles, but yours is my favorite"

Thank you for reading thiss

hi nonnie! im assuming you're also the one who sent the ced request i got prior to this one and if so, please dont apologize!! i truly adore this man and i love writing for him! i hope i was able to do your prompt justice w this one eheh MWAH <333

if cedric's got a sickle for every time someone has told him he had a pretty smile, he'd be bloody rich by age fourteen.

he's heard it from everyone. from strangers on the street, older men with a head full of gray hair seeing a reflection of themselves decades ago in his youthful eyes. from letters he'd find slipped into his bag, secret admirers waxing poetic about his smile, how it had been enough to make the hour and a half they spend in snape's class bearable, how seeing him from across the great hall at dinner was the one thing they look forward to the most.

he's heard it first, and perhaps most often, from his own mother, who'd take his cheeks into her hands and look at him as if she's holding the entire galaxy between her palms.

"you've got the loveliest smile, my dear boy. never lose it."

but he doesn't know what it means, to have a smile that brightens up the room. he can't wrap his mind around how one tiny smile can be enough to rid someone free of the burdens they accumulate as dawn turns to dusk.

cedric doesn't understand until he finds himself tucked in a corner of the library, buried under a mountain of books and parchment on what's supposed to be a weekend spent at hogsmeade.

he normally has a better hand at managing his responsibilities, but the combination of head boy duties, quidditch season starting in two weeks, and the workload that comes with n.e.w.t. level classes has made it impossible to do anything but thank merlin that he even manages to get through a single day.

cedric fights the urge to groan as he feels the seeds of an all familiar headache sprouting. an invisible force pounds against his head, a faint thud every few seconds that sends a twitch to his eye, but he knows it won't take long until he feels like an ogre is bashing his head against the thick books laying in front of him.

he wishes nothing more than for you to be here, with your own share of work, filling the stifling silence of his own little corner of the library with your frantic scribbling on parchment.

you'd let him take a break by now, body slumping against yours as he slots his head on the crook of your neck. he would breathe you in, greedily, and bite back a grin when you giggle at the ticklish feeling of his nose brushing against your skin. your fingers would find themselves tangled with his hair, tugging at the roots and digging at his scalp with enough pressure to release the tension on his shoulders.

he needs you, overwhelmingly so, but your friends had already whisked you off to hogsmeade before he could even ask if you'd want to join him.

at this point, he'd much rather take the ogre than spend another second alone.

"there you are."

cedric's head snaps towards the direction of your voice. he knows you're talking, watches the open and close of your mouth and the almost animated expressions your face dons as you approach him, but he's not hearing any of it.

he sees your smile, a reflection of the sun and the stars, and finally, he understands just how powerful it can be. he remains in a trance even as you clear a spot on the table for you to sit. his body moves entirely on auto-pilot, thighs spreading apart to make way for your legs as he drags himself and his chair closer to you. you've barely touched him, and yet he feels as if he's being pulled into a warm embrace by the clouds as you fish for his hand, locking your fingers together.

"love? are you alright?"

cedric swiftly slides his arms around your waist. he rests his head on your lap and hopes that the quiet hum he lets out is enough to quell your worries.

"better, bug. now that you're here."

vividly, he can imagine the face you make. a grimace in feigned disgust, your bottom lip between your teeth as you try to hold back a giggle.

"that's cheesy, ced." you give his head a light shove before running your fingers through his hair, to which cedric responds with a laugh and the tightening of his arms. he's given you no chance of escape, palms clutching onto the flesh.

"it's the truth."

and it is. if your smile had been enough to ease the ache in his body, brighten his day despite his workload that refuses to decrease, what more now that he's got you in his arms.

[questions-about-blorbos]

Honestly, you can post about whatever makes you happy. It's your blog. Not other people's. Post all about squid games for the next 15 years straight, and that's fine.

I will admit I'm not into SG and don't really understand anything you post about it, but im not complaining.

People are just assholes, ignore them.

[Im not anon-ning this ask just because I think you said something about people being cowards when they tell you to stop, and I know that it doesn't pertain to me specifically, but even if I do send anon's regularly, I'm not this time. People can fuck off for sending hate. This blog is cool, and it's yours!]

thank you so much! this means a lot ❤️ I’d also love to clarify that when I said “being a coward by hiding behind anon” in my other post, I ONLY talk about people who sent anonymous hate and use the anon function tumblr gave as a way to harass other people because they know, once their accounts and identities are hidden, there won’t be any consequences for them that way.

there’s obviously nothing wrong with being on anon to send regular stuff. there’re so many lovely anons in my inbox who say nice and kind things or just submit poll requests, and I truly love all of them.

- mod 1

[hanta-seros-wifey]

ruined myself because of you (k. bakugo x f!reader??? ends up as s. todoroki x f!reader)

synopsis: bakugo & reader are super close and flirty. bakugo’s girl gets the boy first, and youre left to swallow yourself whole, diving into unhealthy habits for a hero in training. kirishima, sero, todoroki, and yayorozu help you get bakugo off your mind. jiro, kaminari, and ashido tell bakugo, but you’ve already gotten over it.

WARNINGS: mentions of mental health, eating disorders, & slacking off in hero training

1 MONTH INTO UA SECOND YEAR: MAY

you pat bakugo softly to get his attention. he turns around and gives you his undivided attention as you rambled on about something before aizawa came in for homeroom.

“training later?” you asked him and he nods agreeing. mr. aizawa walked in, tired as always. he lets iida and momo take over as he knocks out in the corner of the classroom for the next hour.

classes went by as usual and you happily skipped next to bakugo on the way back to the dorms. “quit skipping” he mumbles out a small smile poking out on his lips as he watches you. it amuses him.

you quickly grabbed your training bag and met up with bakugo in the common room. you walked to the gym together and sparred for a good couple of hours.

bakugo winning obviously and gave you tips on what to do next time. you both walked back to the dorms, sweaty and tired. you said goodnight and went up to your dorm to shower.

kats 🧡

you did good today dumbass, same time tomorrow?

you replied back with a yes and he reacts with a thumbs up and sends a goodnight message. you clutched your phone to your chest and giggled softly.

2 WEEKS LATER

“bakugo can we watch a movie?” you asked him on your way back to the dorms from training. “sure” he mumbles out shifting both gym bags that are over his shoulders.

“what do you carry in here princess?” he huffs out dramatically. you giggle walking ahead of him slightly. his lips turn upwards at the sound of your small laugh.

“lots of clothes, other stuff” you shrugged your shoulders smiling up at him. “what movie we watching sweets?” he asks and you walk backwards looking at him.

“how do we feel about tangled?” you smiled and he only looks at you. “sure” he says and you smiled wide nodding your head in excitement.

“yay” you giggled and he smiles fully now. “you are something else huh?” he stops walking and drops both of your bags on the floor.

“what do ya mean by that kats?” you said and he tackles you in a hug. his hands find your waist, gripping you tightly and you let out a shriek, you arms immediately going around his neck.

“aww so katsuki bakugo can be affectionate” you teased running your hands through his hair. “shut up” he says burrying his head in your neck.

3 DAYS LATER

“hey sweets?” bakugo calls out for you as you lay on his bed, while he finishes up english homework at his desk. “hm” you hum sitting up to give him attention.

“would it be a bad idea to train with our classmates?” he asks putting his pencil down and turning to look at you. “not at all” you said and you tilt your head to the side.

“its just-“ he starts but cuts himself off. “just everything after the war. i died like i cant believe i died. i was dead for i dont know how long. i realize i cant be putting off my other classmates, they earned their spot here too” he says and you smile.

“thats great kats, its a good idea. talk to them about it” you encouraged and he nodded and thanked you. “seeing you die in front of me” you started and looked at him.

“it broke me, and im so glad they saved your life on the battlefield” you said getting up and walking towards him.

“i heard pink cheeks was on the brink of death. wonder what it felt like for her” he said shaking his head. “i heard her quirk expanded” you said and he nods his head.

“heard it from jiro” he says and you remember jiro was in the gunga village. “enough of that just wanted to know if it was a good idea or not” he says and you threw yourself on his bed again.

he puts his pencil down again and gets up. he stretches and looks at you. “dont think about it katsuki bakugo” you warned and he smirked and threw himself on top of you, laughing.

1 MONTH LATER: JUNE

it first started off with bakugo standing you up during training. you sat on the gym floor stretching, waiting for bakugo. 10 minutes had passed and nothing. you texted him and no response.

you sighed and laid on the floor. your phone dinged and you looked at it.

kats 🧡

shit sorry, something came up. rain check?

you

sure, its fine!

left on read. if only you knew that was the beginning of it all. on multiple occasions he would leave you there like an idiot and it wasnt until kaminari came in one day and told you where he was.

“he’s with ochacko” he said stretching as he came in to train with you. he felt bad that this was happening and decided to fill in bakugo’s spot.

“why’s that?” you asked him and he shrugged. “they seem to be getting close” he says standing up and pulling you up with him.

you trained with kaminari for three hours before calling it a day. you texted bakugo and he left them all on read. you decided to leave him alone, but your chest ached. “he’ll come around” kami reassured, patting you on the back.

a week later and this behavior was still ongoing. you now started walking to class alone. you sighed as you walked down the stairs and out of the common room. you walked into the classroom, greeted your classmates and sat in your seat.

you slouched down as you groaned and leaned your head down on the table. “oi” you hear and you lift your head up. you look at bakugo as he sighs. “‘m sorry for standin you up” is all he says. “been training with pink cheeks ‘s nothing personal” he says to you.

“you didnt have to distance yourself” you mumbled out and he rubs a hand over his face. “training tomorrow?” he asks you and you look at him. “promise not to stand me up?” you said softly and he nods. “even buy you food” he mutters out and you nod.

“deal” you said and mr. aizawa came in and told you guys to get your hero costumes and meet outside for training. you grabbed your case and walked to the locker room. as you and the girls change you notice a chain that ochako seems to have somewhere on her hero costume.

its small, you’d almost missed it altogether. you brushed it off and closed your locker and walked out with momo, jiro, and mina. mr. aizawa paired you up to spar with others. he paired you up ochako, great.

you watched your classmates spar with each other and before you knew it, you and ochako were up. you knew you were going to be bad today, you hadn’t trained properly in weeks.

you stood across from her as you looked at yoir friends. they sent encouraging signals and you smiled weakly at them. mr. aizawa could sense something was wrong and before blowing his whistle he pulled you aside.

“are you okay?” he asked you as he glanced over yoir figure, cautiously in worry. “‘m fine mr. aizawa” you said rubbing your eyes. he only sighs and signals for you to get ready. he blew the whistle and you immediately activated your quirk.

telekinesis came in handy when you were in focus. she lunged at you and you lost focus and she pulled her “gunhead martial arts” move on you, pinning you to the ground. she was declared the winner and you lay there on the floor, frustrated and embarrassed.

you winced slightly as you held your side as you sit up. “im sorry did i go to hard?” she asks sweetly and you only lift your hand up to signal her to be quiet. “‘m fine” you said wincing slightly as you got up from the floor.

sero came over to help you after seeing that bakugo wasnt going to do it. “you okay?” he asks as he places a hand over yours, where your holding your side. its then he feels it. worry flashes over his face, but he quickly covers it up.

mr. aizawa catches on and instructs you to sit down on the floor again. “on a scale of 1-10 how bad is the pain?” he asks touching around the area and watches as you wince in pain. “9” you manage out and he feels a certain spot, confirming his suspicions.

“okay iida, yayorozu i need you guys to stay here while i take y/n to recovery girl” he announced and they immediately stepped up to their duties as class president and representative.

todoroki looks at you worried. mr. aizawa leaves with you in his arms as ochako stands there, distraught. “did i just?” she trails off as tears welled up in her eyes.

izuku takes a step forward, cautiously. “hey its not your fault” he reassures her and she nods her head. she looks at bakugo and her body moves towards him. he extends his arms out to her and pulls her into a hug.

the whole class is shocked, but doesnt say anything until all might arrives to continue the class as intended.

2 MONTHS LATER: MID AUGUST

“hi kats” you smiled up at him as you both walked to the elevator of the dorms together. he grumbles a hi out as he hits the buttom to the main floor. it was dinnertime and ochako cooked dinner today.

“what do you think is on the menu tonight?” you asked him and he only shrugs. you left it at that and the elevator dinged, the doors opening. you were immediately met with the smell of food and the chatter of your classmates.

class 2A seems to be lively tonight as you and bakugo went separate ways. you met up with sero, kaminari, and jiro. “and bakugo?” sero asks you and you point to him.

“he’s acting a bit weird no?” he asks you and you shrug. you watch him grab himself a plate and dismiss himself off to his room, thanking ochako for the meal.

thanking ochako? you thought to yourself. “okay that was weird” kaminari commented and you nodded your head. “lets drop it yeah?” you told them and moved to sit on the couch, suddenly not hungry anymore.

sero, jiro, and kaminari see and exchange glances between each other. they’ve noticed bakugo’s behavior towards you recently. standing you up for training (sero, kaminari, and even todoroki always stepped in to make you happy), ignoring your messages, stopped walking to class together; everything.

everyone eats happily as you sit on the couch, feet tucked in and you’re on your phone. midoriya sees you and he calmly joins you. “hey! theres some leftover if you want some!” he says giving you a soft smile.

“thanks midoriya but i think i’ll skip out on dinner tonight” you said standing up, your classmates watching. they’ve noticed everything. you all live together, they pick up on things around here.

“come on a small plate” sato says and extends his hand for you to join him in the kitchen. you sigh softly and take his hand and he leads you to the kitchen. its kind of known that you have feelings for bakugo.

“hey everything will work out okay?” sato says placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, comforting you. you nodded your head and thanked him. you bid a goodnight as you quickly made your way up the stairs and to your dorm.

on the fourth floor, you dumped the plate of food into the trashcan at the end of the hall and walked the remaining flight of stairs up to your room. bakugo was on his way out and saw you dump the food out.

3 days later, theres a knock on your door at 9 pm. you move to unlock ot and you see bakugo standing there, bags in hand. “can i help you?” you asked softly rubbing your arm in order to soothe yourself.

“hungry?” he asks holding the bags up and you eye them. “not really” you said shaking your head and he sighs. “can i come in then?” he asks you and you hesitantly nod your head.

“look im sorry” he starts off as he places the food on your desk. he looks around your room and then at you. you look tired, exhausted, thinner. “i’ve been a shitty friend i know” he says and pulls your desk chair directly across from you where you sit on your bed.

“i just thought training with our other classmates would be a good idea, you know this” he shares and you smile at that. “well im glad youre getting along with the others” you stifle a laugh and his lips turn upward, amused.

“you seem to be getting close to others though” you commented quietly and he sighs. “pink cheeks is just a friend” he says and you look at him. “dont lie to me” you stated and he nods his head. “i know” he sighs again.

“you can tell me if somethings going on between you two, who am i to be mad at? im your best friend i’ll be happy for you” you said trying to smile. he thinks your words over and shifts his body more towards you. "well actually there is" he started and you listened intently.

"it really did start off as training, but the more i trained with her, the more i realized i began to have feelings for her" he says and you nod indicating you are following along.

"so i asked her out on a date, and so far we have gone on 3 of them" he smiles and you forced one too to seem happy for him. “im making it official on our next one” he says calmly and you smile.

“way to go!” you pushed his shoulder lightly and he looks down, smiling. “your rib okay?” he asks nodding towards your rib where ochako broke it on accident. “mhm” you nodded.

“you and tape face seem to be getting close” he teases and you roll your eyes. “nah sero’s not who i have feelings for” you shook your head and he looks at you. “then who?” he pushes and you shake your head.

“dont tell me its icy hot” he teases and you nod to go along. “yea its icy hot happy?” you smile as you lie to him. “well he’d be stupid not to go for someone like you” he says standing up. “‘m leaving that here. eat up will ya? im worried” he says pointing towards the food.

“yea yea” you wave him off and he leaves. you sigh, locking you dorm door. you throw yourself on your bed and stare at the ceiling. you see why ochako. you turn on your side and eye the picture of you and bakugo you have on your desk.

you cry yourself to sleep that night.

1 WEEK LATER

you were studying with your classmates in the common room. ochako and bakugo just got back from somewhere (a date most likely) and they seemed giddy. they joined you all in studying. you sat with todoroki as you worked on math with him.

a message came in from bakugo and you glanced at it.

kats 🧡

ochako and i are official

you froze seeing it. todoroki picked up on your tense stature. “is everything alright?” he asks putting his pencil down. “mhm” you manage to let out, tears threatening to spill. you turned your phone upside down and looked at shoto.

“‘m okay sho” you tried smiling, but he could sense something was wrong. “im worried about you” he voices his concerns. “im alright” you said getting up and grabbing your materials.

“where are you going?” kaminari said as he looked up from his art history textbook. sero chimes in, “yea dude were all having a good time here, whats up?” he asks concerned. all of your classmates are now looking at you, encouraging you to stay.

“im okay guys really” you said smiling at them. “were all worried about you” ochako spoke up and everyone stopped talking and looked at your reaction. she got up and walked towards you, extending her hands out.

“you’ve been off since that day i accidentally broke your rib. i’ve been worried about you. you look tired, exhausted even, you’ve been slacking in hero training, and you look thinner. please let me lend a hand” she says and you eye her hands.

you know its not her fault. this will never be her fault. you look down hiding your eyes. “im okay really” your voice cracks and she stares at you. you gently take one of her hands. you let her pull you into a hug and your classmates exchange knowing glances.

bakugo finds it amazing. his girlfriend and best friend getting along. he smiles at the scene infront of him. sero and kaminari look at him and roll their eyes at their idiot of a friend.

“im tired” you said quietly and bid a goodnight to everyone. you slowly walked towards the stairs and you tripped over your own feet, landing harshly on the first stair.

todoroki is quick to help and helps you to your room. “are you sure youre okay?” he asks you and you nod your head yes. “just tired shoto, i promise” you said and with that he leaves, making sure to turn off the lights and close the door.

you cry yourself to sleep again that night.

2 MONTHS LATER: OCTOBER

about 2 months after bakugo told you he and ochako were official, it only went downhill from there. you completely distanced yourself from bakugo, even requested mr. aizawa to switch you seats with midoriya.

you sit in seat number 9 now, infront of sato,behind kirishima and next to tokoyami and iida. you went on about your usual days, you went to class, trained, hung out with your friends, repeat.

aizawa let the cases come out of the wall as he said you all have joint training with class 2B. you picked up number 18, as they havent switched yours and midoriya’s hero costumes yet.

you made your way to the locker rooms, class B in tow. you all made small talk together on your way there, separating to get changed. you talked with setsuna and jiro as you changed into your hero costume.

it’s evidently baggy on you, but you shrug off the looks sent your way as you tie up your heeled boots and walk out of the locker room. jiro and setsuna followed after you, still keeping conversation.

“hey guys!” setsuna says as she waves at some of her classmates. you smile at them and wave to them as well. you walk towards bondo, tetsutetsu, honenuki, and awase.

“hey everything okay? your costum-“ bondo says and is cut off by honenuki slapping his head. “sorry about that” he says sheepishly and you only nod your head. “here” he mutters and pulls out two hair ties. “tie it to cling to your body better” he says shyly, extending his hand out to you.

“thank you” you said taking them from him. he helepd you and you thanked him. “y/n” mr. aizawa called out and you walked over to him. the classes awaited for further instructions as they looked at the both of you.

“you sure you want to do this today? you can always sit out if you want” he says cautiously. “i can train today dont worry mr. aizawa, i appreciate it” you smiled at him and he looked at class B’s homeroom teacher, vlad king.

“are you sure?” he pushes and you nod your head frustrated. “im fine mr. aizawa!” you snapped and immediately shut your mouth again. “im sorry” you whispered as you looked up at your teacher.

class A and B exchange glances as they look at the interaction between the 3 of you. kirishima covered his mouth in shock as your classmates look at you.

“she’s gone nuts” mineta says and tsu shuts him up with her tongue. mr. aizawa sighs and waves his hand to dismiss the behavior and tells you to stand with your classmates.

you stood, sandwich between shoto and kirishima. a hand wraps around your waist in a comforting manner. you look down to see todoroki did that. he doesnt look down at you, but theres a hint of a smile on his face.

“we’ll have y/n form her own team” mr. aizawa said as he turned to look at you. “remember 5 only, we want you to be comfortable” he says nodding his head and you stepped forward.

“shoto” you mumbled and he was immediately by your side. you looked over your classmates and had a hard time choosing. “toshi” you waved shinso over and he stood on your right. “yaomomo” you smiled up at her and she stood next to shinso.

“one more” mr. aizawa said and you looked over once again. your eyes landed on bakugo and for a second he thought you were going to choose him. he was the one you did most of your previous training with.

your eyes moved next to him and called out to the yellow-blonde boy. “denks” you nodded firmly and he joined your group high fiving you. “what a gnarly team” kirishima said clapping and you smiled.

“dang they got fire and ice, creation, brainwashing, electrification, and telekinesis. we’re screwed” sero whined putting his head in his hands. “shut it tape face” bakugo grumbled, bothered.

ochako looked up at him and placed a gentle hand on his forearm. he relaxed at her touch and his frown went away. the two classes were assorted into their teams and soon it was time to start drawing who’d go against who.

team l/n was up for round 3 against team monoma, who had juzo honenuki, setsuna tokage, yosetsu awase, and sen kaibara. you watched the first two rounds go by with team uraraka vs team kendo in the first round and team ashido vs team tetsutetsu in the second round.

team uraraka consisted of midoriya, sato, tsuyu, and hagakure. it was honestly a pretty great team. bakugo watched you from afar as you conversed with your team.

“good luck out there” honenuki says as he passes by you. he holds his helmet in his hands and you can see his face. “thanks juzo you too” you smiled at him and his cheeks turn slightly pink.

he nods his head and walks off, happily. “oh he definitely wants you” denki teased and yaomomo gave you a smile. “wait really?” you frowned as you looked at honenuki. “duh” shinso said and you looked up at them confused.

“dudes been dropping hints since our first year, after the sports festival” denki said and you start clicking the pieces together. you looked at todoroki as he looks at the ground, avoiding your eyes.

“well im not interested in him” you mumbled and frowned. “he’s really nice but i dont have feelings for him that way” and they all looked at you.

“its bakugo huh?” shinso spoke up and you all exchanged glances. “you know he’s an asshole for what he did” he started and you looked up at your purple haired friend.

“how so?” you asked and he looks down at you, meeting your eyes. “you guys flirted, very obvious. then he suddenly picks up interest in uraraka? he was too pussy to say he had feelings for you, wanted you to do all the work. uraraka made the first move did you know?” he said and you looked at them.

bakugo and ochako attached at the hip. it makes sense. “i dont care anymore” you shook your head looking down. “okay you know you care, honey” shinso said tilting his head to the side.

you stared back into his violet eyes. “drop it toshi” you said firmly and he raised his hands up defensively. “just saying” he muttered and looked to the side.

“round 2 is now over! team tetsutetsu wins!” present mic said and you looked at your group. “ready?” you asked them as they got up from their sitting positions.

“i got you okay?” shoto said as he got closer to you and put one hand carefully on your waist. you smiled up at him and nodded. “thank you sho” and he smiled down at you. he kept his hand on your waist as you walked by both classes.

“good luck” monoma taunts and you stick your tongue out at him. you knew he was joking around, he still likes teasing you guys. bakugo watches iida’s hand on your back.

“icy hot is so into her” he mumbles to kirishima and sero with a smile. kirishima and sero look at him with a deadpanned look. “what? she told me she’s into him” he defends and the boys look at each other.

“roki’s got her” sero says and scoffs while turning away. “hey jiro ashido” kirishima spots his friends and the boys walk towards them, and away from bakugo.

the round started and you stuck by todoroki the whole time, not wanting to get separated. you were doing great with your team, amazing. denki managed to take down awase and lock him in the designated prison.

you were struggling with setsuna as kaibara was protecting her the best way possible. not to mention her quirk is amazing. monoma was copying quirks left and right and with denki’s quirk, he was able to take down yamomo.

shinso, using his persona cords, brainwashed kaibara and he stopped, frozen in place. “hey kaibara i didnt say anything!” setsuna yelled out spotting shinso on a near by building.

you stayed afloat, avoiding the ground as honenuki was softening it.

you had 10 minutes on the clock and right now both teams were tied. monoma managed to copy your quirk earlier and flew up to you.

“hi y/n” he waved at you with a smirk on his face. “class A has been having some troubles” he starts and you look at him confused. “were just fine” you shook your head and he laughs. “bakugo and uraraka” he says and your eyes widened.

you are so glad you arent mic’d up for this. as your classmates fight below you, you’re here floating in the air having a conversation with monoma.

“he’s an asshole” he says and you only stare at him. you lunged at him ready to take him down and he reaches out placing his hands on your shoulders.

“im not one made for close combat” he says as he sends you tumbling down a set of pipes. “you asshole!” you yelled out as your back hit multiple pipes on the way down.

you landed on the soft floor, thanks to honenuki. he softened the ground for you as you laid there, unconscious. mr. aizawa immediately called off the round and everyone deactivated their quirks.

“y/n!” shoto ran towards you as your friends surrounded you. “its a draw!” present mic said as your classmates look at the screen in worry. sero, kirishima, jiro, and mina move towards the screen.

“monoma cheated!” sero yelled out as all might shook his head. “they werent that far off the ground, she’s fine” he said gently as they wheeled you out with recovery girl in tow.

they wheel you off as she pulls all might, mr. aizawa, and vlad king off to the side. “the girl is extremely thin. the fall made her ribs crack. i can heal her just fine” she says with worry.

she looks at aizawa who has a guilty look on his face. “you shouldn’t have let her participate. talk to your students. find out whats going on with this poor girl” she says shaking her head and walking off to heal you.

bakugo watches the interaction and looks at the floor. he needs to figure out whats happened to you.

that same night, mr. aizawa called for a meeting in the common room. you sat with todoroki as you played with his fingers. he looks down at your hands and smiles at your touch.

once all 20 of you are there he starts. “i need everyone to tell me whats going on” he says immediately cutting to the chase. “she may not want to fess up and tell me, but as her friends if you know and want to help her out, please do tell whats going on” he continues as he gestures towards you.

the class stays quiet, all giving glances to each other. “i know you know” mr. aizawa says towards sero, kirishima, mina, jiro, and kaminari. “its truly not our business to tell sir” jiro said quietly and you look at mr. aizawa’s expression.

you come up with a lie. “i wanted to lose weight cause i felt too beefy for a girl” you said quietly, still playing with todoroki’s fingers. “i thought if i was thinner… i dont know, im sorry” you said tears welling up in your eyes.

mr. aizawa knew there was more to it, but he wasnt going to press it. everyone else knew the real truth, apart from uraraka and bakugo.

“everyone off to their dorms” he says and everyone gets up. you stayed seated on the floor as mr. aizawa signaled for your friends to stay, even bakugo.

once the common room was cleared you sat there, head down. “y/n i need the truth so we can help you” mr. aizawa started crouching down to meet your eyes.

you looked back at your friends and sighed. “sero” you motioned for him to come to you. he crouches down and you lean in to whisper into his ear, cupping it so no one could read your lips.

sero nods and you give him a nod and look at your teacher. sero stands to his full height and gently pulls mr. aizawa off to the side. “seriously whats going on?” you hear bakugo tell you and you simply ignore him.

mr. aizawa dismissed you all and you followed sero and todoroki back up to the fifth floor.

1 MONTH LATER: NOVEMBER

“oi dumbasses!” mina, jiro, and kaminari heard as they turned around to see bakugo was heading towards them, his phone in his hand.

“where’s y/n? cant get ahold of her” he says waving his phone in the air at them. “she’s probably with todoroki at therapy with present mic were not sure” mina answered and he nods.

“am i blocked or something i tried contacting her through instagram too cant see her profile” he says unlocking his phone and going to her profile only for the “user not found!” to pop up.

“let me see” jiro says taking her phone out and finding your profile with ease. “seems like she did. i dont blame her honestly” she shrugged putting her phone away and linking her arm with denki’s.

“huh?” he says and looks at the three of them. “you see the state she’s in bakubro?” denki started off sarcastically. “its because of you” he continued and bakugo’s face contorted into one of confusion.

“i dont get it. you guys flirted, acted like something was there, dude she watched you die!” denki yelled, now getting angry. everyone in the common room looking at the interaction.

uraraka listened intently. “and now that you went off training with uraraka all of a sudden theres feelings?” denki kept going, mad. “was it cause uraraka made the first move? y/n was waiting for months on you to make a move, it absolutely broke her to see you distance yourself from her, someone she loves!” jiro rubbed his arm to soothe denki.

“you cant be more stupid man, she loves you” denki said more calmly now. the common room goes quiet and bakugo stands there dumbfounded. he drops his phone and looks at the three of them in confusion.

“i made her like that?” he mutters out as he glances towards the floor, tears stinging his eyes. uraraka looks from afar as she stands with tsu, iida, and midoriya.

“i never meant to hurt her” he says shaking now. “fuck” he mutters out, his hands flying to his hair as everyone looks at him, concerned etched onto their features.

the sound of giggling can be heard, your giggling as you and todoroki walk back in, hand in hand. your laughter dies down as soon as you enter the tense atmosphere.

“whats wrong?” you ask out with a small smile as you look at everyone. your eyes land on bakugo and your face contorts into one of concern.

“they told bakugo” sero says and you look at jiro, mina, and kaminari. you glance at uraraka as tsu wraps an arm around her shoulder.

you look up at todoroki and give him a small smile. you squeeze his hand and he squeezes it back in understanding. you slowly move towards bakugo and gently take his hands away from his hair.

“lets talk yeah?” you ask him trying to meet his eyes. he realizes its you and his breaths start to slow down and he pulls you into a hug.

“i never meant to hurt you” he mumbles into your neck as you stroke his hair. “i know kats” you said choking on a sob. you pull away and keep him at arms length.

“but see im okay now” you smiled up at him and wipe his tears. “i learned to accept it and im happy for you truly” you started and he nods his head.

“im okay, look im doing good” you said indicating your figure and how’ve you brought up your weight by a little bit. “and look, me and todoroki have finally decided to take the next step” you said turning to look at shoto and he smiles at you.

“everything is okay, i promise” you said sincerely and he finally calms down. “im blocked” he says and glances down at his phone. “kats i blocked you a long time ago, i’ll go ahead and undo it” you said slowly releasing him from your grip.

“youre the first boy i’ve ever grown to love, but i moved on. my feelings for shoto are so real, like yours for ochako” you said and he nods his head. “love that girl” he says sniffling and looking down at the floor to hide his small smile.

“best friends?” he said holding his pinky out. “best friends” you said and completed his pinky promise. you hugged it out and laughed. “were dumb arent we?” you giggled as you pulled away.

“so dumb” he confirms and laughs with you. “yay they made up!” kirishima says throwing his hands in the air as everyone erupts into laughter. “class 2A group hug!” kirishima yells out and they all tackle you and bakugo.

5 MONTHS LATER: APRIL

the start of your third year at UA high school has officially begun. one more year until youre a pro hero. how exciting.

you laugh at something tetsutetsu says as todoroki sits next to you, hand on your thigh. you’ve slowly gotten better as the days went on. you and todoroki have officially begun dating.

“okay now thats stupid!” bakugo shot up at something monoma did and ochako laughed lightly pulling him down. “get used to it explosion boy” honenuki teased and you all laughed.

you were playing an american game pony introduced you guys to, uno. bakugo was losing terribly, always drawing cards. you giggled as you leaned into shoto, his free arm going around your waist.

you hide your cards from him and turn to look at him. “dont look at my cards sho” you giggled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “just holding you close” he muffles and you smile.

“shoto your turn” tetsutetsu says looking at him. the pile had a red 5. shoto looked at his cards and plopped down a blue 5. you put a blue 6 and sero put down a blue 8.

monoma snickered and glanced to his left to look at bakugo. monoma places a +4 wild card and bakugo throws his pile of cards claiming he doesnt want to play anymore.

you all laughed and threw your cards down, calling it the end of the game. honenuki put them away and you all sat around class b’s common room. you and shoto sat on the floor as you all laughed and talked together.

“you know this is nice” ochako said leaning into bakugo. “being able to talk to each other, no class rivalries” she said glancing at monoma for a split second.

you laughed and nodded fist bumping her. “lets talk agencies” kirishima said eagerly as he held mina close to him. “denki and i’s agencies are going to be right next to each other one day” jiro said looking at denki, lovingly.

“kirishima and i are doing it together” bakugo said looking at kirishima. “then that means ochako and i open ours together” mina winked at her and she winked back.

“count me in on that too yea?” you said and the girls nodded their heads excitedly. “sho how bout you?” you turn to look at him and he looks at you. “i want the name to commemorate my family in a way. for touya” he starts and you all look at him.

“dad passed his agency onto me after he retired and im switching the name” he concludes as he looks at his friends. “way to go sho” you muttered to him with a smile and he smiles back at you.

you kiss his cheek and he blushes instantly. you and bakugo looked at each other as he sat across from you. he nods his head at you with a smile and you do the same.

best friends forever was the deal. best friends forever.

[unhinged-simp]

Hii! Can i please request a yandere Vagastrom x reader with soulmate au? :DD

I just think yan and soulmate au is such a yummy idea, and Vagastrom is my personal favorite ^^

Yandere Soulmate AU! Vagastorm

I am so sorry this took so long to come out. This has been in draft hell, waiting for me to finish it. Thank you so much for requesting, and for your patience. I hope you enjoy!

Alan: initials on your palm

A. M, those were the letters engraved into your palm and in your mind.

There was not a day where you didn’t stare at them.

You would check every person who had the same initials, but you never had the luck.

However, when you were assigned to Vagastorm, you met the one.

And thus, you started dating.

But sometimes the way Alan acted bothered you.

He was super protective of you. He’d always be with you when he could be.

Always by your side, or in front of you, and sometimes even behind you.

You would notice he would send quick glares at anyone who stared at you.

Then there were the times where he was calm, rubbing the letters on your palm with a smile on his face.

He’d sometimes bite into your hand, not hard, but enough to leave a mark. Afterwards he’d apologize and say that he didn’t know why he did that.

He’ll ask you to help him get to his classes so he won’t get lost.

You would notice people avoiding you, and people who were mean to you would disappear.

At this point no one knows where they went, not even Darkwick

Leo: Marks appearing after your soulmate touches you

Leo was annoying to you at first.

He was very hansy and affectionate, making it hard for you to do things.

He’d ask you to sleep in his bed, so he can hold you close.

He loves the marks that appear when he touches you, they’re usually shaped like handprints.

He bites you, usually over the marks he leaves with his touch

He brags a lot about you, though it’s often intertwined with his usual mean remarks.

He calls you dummy sometimes, but he’s quick to say that you’re his dummy.

He shows you off on tiktok, but never reveals who you are, you’re only his after all.

He does let you be on your own, but he is always listening to you.

Sho: Letter detailing how you meet and the same mark on your hand

Unlike Alan and Leo, Sho is more chill with letting you interact with others.

Of course, he’d prefer to be there as well when you hang out with your friends.

He always has a tracker on you, in case he needs to check where you are.

He’s more into giving you items and jewelry to wear, then to leave marks.

If he sees you wearing something that isn’t what he gave you, he will look at you like you’re a traitor.

Same if you eat something that isn’t from him.

Sho will start wear his gloves less, so he can see the mark that he has and think more of you.

When you two cuddle, he holds your hand to see the marks match with each other.

His lockscreen is probably the matching marks, and his homescreen is you

[the-kingshound]

TKH was the first IF I ever read, and I've always loved that my characters and I can feel genuinely respected, cared for, and heard in the most uncomfortable of situations- It's deeply healing, and such a strong point in this story that continues to set it as one of my favorites. It admittedly left me unprepared for a majority of the IF world which indulges in more antagonistic tropes- Those can be fun at the right time, but 9 times out of 10 I'd like for my MCs to be treated like actual people in tough situations. Your characters feel like people worth building relationships with and I adore it. And that aside, I love love love effeminate men!! I love messing with gender norms!! I love queerness!! There is nothing better or sexier than that!! You're doing a wonderful job telling the story you want to tell, and I'm very thankful and excited for it.

This... honestly means so much to me. I started writing this story because it's exactly what I craved, for a MC to be treated with care and respect, for people to grow fond of them and for them to grow fond of people even in stressful/unfamiliar situations. Because, like you, I grow tired quite fast of a MC who is often demeaned, left in the dark, or left to suffer by themselves surrounded by unsympathetic people.

Aside from it, from the fact that I would never change this story, it is heartwarming and of great support knowing people actually want and enjoy this type of content. Not everyone, and this was made clear, but for those who wanted exactly this, I am happy I can provide.

The more negative comments I receive about Arthur/ROs being effemminate, the more I am convinced I did good. Fuck gender norms. Fuck stereotypical men. Soft caring men deserve representation

[kimtaegis]

JIN HUGS JIN HUGS! for @jinstronaut ♡

cr. namuspromised, dwellingsouls, 0613data

[mrsmangi]

just found ur account and I love ur writing!! Dianthus Barbatus

smile - luigi mangione

♡ flower prompt: dianthus barbatus - trying to make a loved one smile by any means necessary - meaning: derived from the greek words “dios” (god) and “anthos” (flower); symbolic of feelings of love, affection, gratitude and admiration ♡ w.c.: 1.1k ♡ a/n: hi anon! thank you so much for this request. i'm sorry it took so long! hopefully, you enjoy it as much as i did writing it. <3

♡ send me a flower & i'll write a drabble based off the prompt ! ↪ prompts that have been requested

Luigi has never considered himself a man of grand gestures. He isn’t the type to make speeches or sweep princesses off their feet in dazzling displays of affection. It isn’t his style. Luigi prefers quiet moments, subtle actions that proved to speak louder than any word in the dictionary ever could. Still, as he stands outside your door this morning, he wonders if maybe it’s the right time to try it out. 

Buying you flowers had been an impulsive decision–something he just decided to do as he spotted a quaint flower shop on his way back home from an early errand. He spent a lot longer in the flower shop than he would ever admit to you, running his thumbs over the different textures of petals and second-guessing himself. He wanted them to be perfect–if not perfect, then right. 

The bouquet feels small in his large hand–too small, maybe. Luigi almost feels foolish holding them. The thought that he might subconsciously be attempting to distill everything he feels about you into something as fleeting as petals has his nose twitching in disapproval. 

His thoughts are interrupted by the soft click of a lock coming from your door and the creak of its hinges as it opens. You stand in the doorway, wrapped in his sweater he had left at your place a few nights before, a steaming mug in your hand. Your hair is slightly mussed, expression settled between somewhere surprised and sleepy. 

“Luigi?” you ask gently. Your voice sounds hoarse from sleep. There’s a faint crease on your cheek that suggests to him you’ve only just woken up, and yet, to him, you still look radiant. 

He smiles, holding up the flowers as if to explain himself. “Hey. I thought I would stop by.” 

Amusement sparkles in your eyes as your lips begin to pull into a smile. “With flowers?” 

“Yeah,” he says, feeling silly now. “Thought you might like them.” 

“What’s the occasion?” you ask, stepping aside to let him inside. 

“No occasion,” he says cooly, attempting to play it cool as he holds out the bouquet to you. “Just missed you.” 

“Thank you,” you say as you take the bouquet, your fingers brushing against his. The brief contact sends a small jolt of electricity through him. He thinks he may never get used to being so close to you–a blessing like you feels too unreal to fathom. “They’re beautiful, Luigi.” 

“They reminded me of you,” he says, watching your face carefully. He follows you into the kitchen where you search for a vase. You move with a kind of casual grace, the hem of his sweater brushing against your thighs, your bare feet padding softly against the floor. It’s a small, domestic thing, but he feels like he could watch you forever. 

“You know,” you begin, rinsing out a small face, glancing at him over your shoulder, “you don’t usually stop by unannounced.” You give him a sidelong look, an eyebrow raised in playful suspicion. “Did something happen? You’re not usually this…spontaneous.” 

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can’t a guy just want to spend time with you?” 

“Sure,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips. You set the vase on the table. “But I know you, Luigi. You like routine. This is very un-routine.” 

He couldn’t argue with that. You weren’t wrong at all. Then again, he thinks, watching you arrange the flowers with careful hands, there isn’t much about you that fits neatly into his routines. Maybe that’s what he liked the most about you. You slipped into the cracks of his life seamlessly, filling spaces he hadn’t even realized were empty. Everything felt brighter with you. 

“I guess I just thought it might brighten your morning,” he says. He shifts his weight slightly, watching you as you continue to fret over the positioning of the flowers. “Doesn’t hurt to try, right?” 

You glance over at him, your small smile morphing into a grin. “You’re surprisingly good at this,” you tease, tilting your head as you meet his eyes. “Have you been practicing?” 

“Only in my head,” he admits, a gentle grin tugging the corners of his mouth. “For days.” 

Luigi wasn’t lying. The truth was, he had spent most of the week thinking of ways to make you happy. He had noticed how tired you looked the last time you spoke, the way your eyes drifted to places he wasn’t capable of following, like your thoughts constantly weighed on you. It bothered him–the thought that you might be carrying more than you let on. 

“I hope they make you smile,” he says softly, leaning against the counter as you fill the vase with water. He could only hope you understood his unspoken plea for the flowers to speak what he didn’t have the strength to convey aloud. 

“They already have.” 

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief washing over him. He wants to keep this version of you here forever–the one that smiles at him like he’s something good. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” you say, placing the vase on the island of your kitchen. You turn to face him, eyes softening. “But I’m really glad you did.” 

“I’m glad, too,” he says, voice low. “I don’t think you realize just how much I want to make you happy, baby.” 

He doesn’t miss the way your cheeks flush with color. You bite your lip, laughing with your chest and shaking your head. “You silly man,” you breathe through your laughter, “you already do. More than you know.” 

He studies you, allowing a silence to fall over you. He isn’t sure if he deserves these words you spew, but he wants to. More than anything, he wants to be the person who notices the little things about you. The one who shows up, even when there’s nothing special about the day. The one who makes you feel like you’re the center of his world–because you are. 

The moment ends when you break the silence, tilting your head. “Have you eaten?” 

He blinks. “Not yet.” 

“Well, lucky for you, I was just about to make breakfast,” you say, turning toward the fridge. “But if you’re eating, you’re helping.” 

He steps closer to you, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater. “Deal. What’s on the menu today?” 

“Pancakes,” you say, glancing at him briefly. “Think you can handle that?” 

“I’ll have you know, I make a mean pancake,” he says, grabbing the eggs from the fridge with a flourish. “Prepare to be blown away.” 

Then, you smile and laugh. It fills the room in a way that makes his chest tighten and feel as though it might burst from love. He doesn’t say it aloud then, but Luigi knows he would do this every morning if it meant that he would get to see you smile.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

your art is absolutely amazing

i just went thru all of the poorly drawn mdzs and it was amazing seeing your art develop!

you just made my morning, thabkyou <3

Thank you so much for the kind words, and for cheering me on as I continue to learn!

[bloobydabloob]

i love your dirk drawings sooo much. the way you mix realism vs stylized in your dirk art goes crazy hard especially. both of your styles are so good so seeing them both used as symbolism to paint the broader picture is awesome as hell

Thank you very much, I do enjoy realistic Dirk & flat Dirk contrast too because to me both styles represent different facets of his character depending on the artwork.

His stylised form is more representative of who he is generalised as + a good representation of his separation from himself whereas a more realistic Dirk (to me) makes me feel more in touch with his character and it feels more emotional and less controlled. Even though it kind of sounds pretentious to put it this way, I view my less cartoonish Dirks as showcasing something more private and I tend to veer towards it the more emotional (positive or negative) the piece is for this reason.

[moonshynecybin]

who do you think would deal better with being isekai'd into omegaverse, marc or vale? alternatively which is more compelling

most beautiful ask. in the world. so funny. ummmm i think. vale is maybe more compelling because his issues with it would be. perhaps unsolvable and endlessly complex. guy who is a lil weird about gender, not terribly into the concept of marriage, and is pretty fundamentally adverse to being. shall we say emotionally legible/vulnerable. exposed. and omegaverse as a genre is all about exposure. its all. giving into the base instincts of your body and those same instincts giving you away to the object of your affections. its going into heat and the person youre in love with is the only one available to help you through it. its scenting someone and that being a crystal ball of their emotions and bodily state ESPECIALLY ie how much they want you specifically. its needing someone so bad you are literally insensate. its getting bonded 5ever and ever irrevocably, OFTEN in the heat of an instinctual moment without the relationship negotiation that happens irl. a genre centered around a betrayal of the body/heart to the mind, in many ways

now imagine you didnt actually grow UP in an omegaverse so you have no toolbox to DEAL with all that. sensory input off the SHITS. and. like suddenly and without WARNING now vale can feel in his CHEST exactly how distressed marc marquez is about every one of their interactions. and how much he wants his ass. like truly every part of his hind brain is like jesus christtttttt i should be inside him right tf now im a terrible alpha. and then the higher part of his brain is like what the fuck. what the fuck. i am not responsible for marc, what the fuck. and oh hey theres a bump on my penis i need to ask people about this right the hell now. thats vale. so i see this as a somewhat fraught comedy of sex errors where his ADHD ass is treading horny water trying to learn alpha manners and also. much more complexly. not fall into all of the traditional alpha expectations/roles. that little trap of gender. because at heart vale is a little trickster who loves to buck expectations!!! and maybe his journey here is realizing that he can just be himself comma sex freak. and that leaning into those "alpha" traits doesnt mean he is conforming lmao he can still have his own unique version of his family. learning the norms of a society and what makes sense to him and what still doesnt. sorting through the weeds of it. and that being vulnerable rules sometimes. and that marc loves him. because that last one is kind of hard to ignore now... again because of that emotional and physical vulnerability that comes with the genre... honestly him knowing all of that about marc without having to actually TALK about it may solve some of their problems tbh. like why work through all that verbally when you can sniff them and then fuck them. kind of the omegaverse fantasy in quite a few ways

marc. jeez louise. i think would HATE it more. at first. control freak 9000. maybe has to miss races for heats. suppressants arent legal. experiencing weird omega sexism if we want to go that route OR. my favorite. has been lying to the press about his status since he presented. tiniest 15 yr old youve ever seen: im an alpha ! :3 uh sure bud. sure. i bet. SO actually maybe he falls into a world where hes just been white-knuckling it for the last billion years during race weekends and most of the paddock kind of KNOW (scent blockers only go so far...) but are lowkey afraid to call him on it dlkjdfljldsfd... similar to vale in this scenario, he sort of has to learn how to omega— and when his heat hits during summer break and his ass start leaking in the middle of the spanish equivalent of walmart, he finds a psycho little ziploc bag of sweaty vale shirts under his bed and he genuinely is like girl what the hellllllllllll.... wiggin out. and his next heat he turns up to race with truly NO practice managing it all, so its way more obvious than normal and the farce is growing thinner and vale literally pulls him aside to be like hey are you GOOD ? but in that valentino not that i care about your ass kind of unspeakably divorced way and marc is like woag. bc a pheromone truck just ran him over. eyes glassy face flushed sweaty as hell mouth a little open.... and he opens his mouth to make an excuse and nothing comes... and then obviously they fuck like its the end of the WORLD

and like i DO think marc pulls out of it more cleanly than vale overall, bc something in HIS lizard brain would be deeply soothed by like. excelling at being an omega. getting an A + in being a bottom. doing that for vale, specifically in the context of pushing his body to the absolute LIMIT to do it.... hes locked in. its go time. and then theres the insane possibility of vale putting his mouth on his neck and them getting basically soulbonded forever where they have to have crazy sex every few months ? hes like ummmm okay. i could get used to this for a while lmao