loves fries more

but choco chip is cuter to pronounce (i think)

[milkloafy]

SILENT BUT RECKLESS — TODOROKI SHOUTO

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: in which pro hero!shouto saves you from getting run over by a car and finds himself immediately enraptured by you.  ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: pro hero!shouto, fluff, gn!reader ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.3k ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: aka…pro hero!shouto is a pr nightmare and no u cannot convince me otherwise ! ahdjskc but frl this is so unserious but i miss the og anime loml so here we are :>

Shouto wasn’t exactly known for his talkative nature. 

It was quite the opposite, in fact, with news agencies and magazines often referring to him as the quiet one of the Big Three. Though, he supposed that was better than being known as the one with the family trauma. 

But people often mistook his silence for thoughtfulness, he realized. Or an intense observation of sorts. And while at times that was the case, most times, it was simply because he didn’t have anything to say. 

Shouto blinked as he realized the situation he was in. 

He had just stopped a villain from robbing a luxury clothing store for the third time this month, nothing too exciting, yet the journalists showed up each time for an interview with him after. 

“Sir, we are live,” the reporter reminded with a nervous laugh. “We asked if you had a message for any…”

She kept talking, but Shouto was unable to concentrate. Not because he had heard it millions of times before, but because he noticed a strange movement from the corner of his eyes. 

This was one of the times he was both silent and observant. 

Shouto spotted you crossing the street on your phone, staring at your screen and completely oblivious that a car was headed your way with little to no sign of stopping. 

Without thinking of how it would look to the public for him to ditch an interview mid-sentence, he ran over to you before he even processed his legs moving. Throwing his right arm out in front of him, he sent a wall of ice up to block the vehicle’s predicted path, reaching you just in time to sweep you off your feet and carry you away from the road as the ice began to shatter from the impact. 

The ice wall was thick enough that the car slowed before fully breaking through, but that didn’t stop Shouto from instinctively shielding you with his body in the event that ice shards propelled towards you. 

Once he heard the sound of a crash and alarms, he figured the vehicle was fully stopped and the authorities arrived to assess the situation themselves. Would he get scolded by his agency for putting up an ice wall and potentially damaging someone’s vehicle? It was likely so. But that was better than someone actually getting hit by a car instead. 

The world wanted heroes, but only when they fit into their ideal mold. And while rules and regulations helped keep order in the world, in moments like these when someone’s life was in danger, Shouto couldn’t be bothered to care.

Slowly, his body relaxed and he was able to finally take a look at you. At the person who, for some reason, was so focused on their phone they didn’t notice a car coming at them. 

Any criticisms that threatened to come out of his lips stayed there once he got a good look at your features. He found himself taken aback by how beautiful you looked, though he quickly cleared his throat and recovered from his blatant staring. 

“Be careful when you’re crossing the street,” said Shouto, walking over to a section of grass and away from the commotion that was happening on the road, with you still in his arms. “What was keeping you so occupied?” 

You looked up at him guiltily, your phone clutched between your hands. “I was trying to order my food…” 

He blinked. As a pro hero, he shouldn’t be one the judge victims. But he couldn’t help but raise his brow just a bit. 

“I was really hungry,” you said sheepishly, hiding your face in embarrassment. “But I can’t believe I was so focused on my order I didn’t realize the car wasn’t stopping!” You sighed to yourself before meeting Shouto’s eyes once more. “Thank you for saving me, Shouto. I’m sure you had much more pressing matters to attend to instead of saving some random person off the street.”

He shook his head. “That’s the most important part of the job. Saving people.” 

You smiled gratefully at him and he almost had to look away from your dazzling grin. “Well, thank you for saving this idiotic person right here.” You gestured towards yourself. “Still, I hope my order went through…”

A mixture between a snort and a laugh escaped his lips. You had almost gotten run over and your biggest concern was whether or not your dinner was on its way? 

“It’s didn’t!” you cried in exasperation as you peeked at your phone. “Well, I might as well get a convenience store meal at this point.” Sighing, you leaned your head against his chest for a brief moment of comfort. “By the way, you can set me down now. I think people are taking pictures of us.” 

“Oh,” said Shouto, “right.”

Carefully, he loosened his hold on you and set your feet carefully onto the floor. Before fully letting go of you, he made sure you were stable and steady. For some, it took a while for the events to process and the panic to settle in, and he wanted to ensure you were truly okay. 

You had a worried look on your face as you noticed the video cameras still focused on the two of you. 

“Will you get in trouble for this?” you whispered, leaning close to his ear. 

“For rescuing someone from a getting hit by a car and talking to them after?” He considered things for a moment. “Most likely. But it’s okay. The most important thing is you are safe, both physically and mentally.”

Giggling, you nodded, reaching up to pat him on top of his head. Shouto was startled by the sudden touch, but he didn’t pull away.

“Who knew Shouto was such a worrywart,” you teased. “I’m safe and unharmed, all thanks to you. In fact, to show my gratitude… Why don’t I treat you to some convenience store dinner? On me, of course!” 

Shouto was silent for a bit. There were plenty of things he should be thinking about right now. The headlines that would be made about Pro Hero Shouto saving someone and then going on a “date” with them right after. The damage it could do to his reputation. The overtime hours the agency would make his public relations team work.

Instead, his silence was used to think of what he exactly he wanted to get at the convenience store. 

“Okay,” Shouto said once he made up his mind. “I’ll take a curry bun.” 

You laughed and gestured for him to follow you to the nearest convenience store. “I like that, too. You have good taste.” 

He followed along beside you, pleased with himself when he heard your captivating laugh. 

“I think I want an egg sandwich tonight,” you stated, a thoughtful look on your face. “Or maybe some fried chicken. Or an egg sandwich and fried chicken? And a smoothie for a drink and dessert all in one item! But maybe I want a crepe instead…”

As you rambled on, Shouto suddenly understood how you were too engrossed with trying to order food on your phone that you didn’t realize a vehicle was approaching you earlier. And while that was dangerous, he found it slightly endearing. Just as long as you were away from any cars. 

Shouto was so focused on listening to you that he hardly paid attention to the look of shock on the reporters’ faces and the influx of calls he was receiving from his agency. 

Right now, he simply wanted to hear you talk more and eat a curry bun. 

The rest, he could deal with later. 

[danijaci]

misunderstandings ft. dr ratio

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[luvnami]

you text ushijima to pick you up from a halloween party at 12.17am, the tray of soju shots you had earlier hitting you all at once. he shows up at 12.31am with a coverup hoodie, slides for your aching feet, and a bottle of cold water.

"thank you for taking care of her," he says to the friend who hands you over.

your limbs are jelly as his strong arm wraps around your face. never mind the foundation that rubs off on his dark shirt, he'll wash it off later.

"wakatoshi!" you slur. "you're here!"

you giggle and nuzzle into his shoulder. the foundation spot grows into an oddly shaped patch, reminiscent of your cheek and nose. he nods as if that is the most obvious fact in the whole world.

"yes. i'm here. let's go home."

your friends gawk through the window as ushijima helps you back into his car.

"did you have fun?" he reaches past you to buckle the seatbelt into place.

you hum. "i did, i did. i missed you! we took lots of photos, i'll show them to you when we get home. oh, and remember that girl i told you about? she said she loved my costume! that was so sweet!"

you ramble on and on about every little thing that happened at the party. ushijima listens carefully, even when you get into the details of how someone was making out sloppy-style with their ex-partner, while a 50 cent song played in the background.

ushijima doesn't know who 50 cent is. he stayed up past his bedtime, watching a documentary about birds while waiting for your text to come pick you up. but that's alright; because why would that ever matter when he loves you so much?

"wakatoshi, can i get a burger on the way home?"

he slides into the driver seat and adjusts your head, slotting a neck pillow around your shoulders so that you don't bump into the car window.

"you're going to feel gross when you wake up if you eat a burger now."

"mm... but i really want one! please?"

you gaze up at him, pupils dilated. he pauses to make sure none of your hair is stuck between your neck and the pillow.

"okay. we can get a burger. close your eyes and rest, i'll wake you when we're home."

"hehe, thank you! i love you, toshi."

he smiles.

"i love you too."

[rocheshire]

ꜱɪʟʟʏ ʜᴜꜱʙᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏꜱ - (ᴋɪᴛᴀ ꜱʜɪɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ)

Rrring rrrring !!

The alarm went off for 6am. Kita groaned, shuffling the blankets and turning to look at you.

He didn't have to wake up so early today. His only class was an afternoon class. Plus he stayed up last night with you, binge watching movies and cuddling on the couch.

It was around 2am when he woke up and realised how you both had fallen asleep on the couch. His neck was bent at a very uncomfortable angle.

He had craned his neck to look at you.

Only to coo at the sight of you curled up beside him, mouth drooling a huge patch onto his chest. He would keep it a secret, obviously predicting how mortified you would be if you were to know.

Now, as he stretches a hand, successfully stopping the alarm, he remembers a little something you had told him before the movie last night.

"I wanna make you breakfast in bed." You had pouted.

He could understand your complain. Every time he stayed over, he was the one making breakfast the next morning. It was a habit. And the bonus was he got to see your sleepy smile as you woke to the smell of the food.

He looks down at you, cosy and cuddled in the blankets, slightly snoring.

And he decides - five minutes more sleep won't hurt.

With one hand he laboriously sets the alarm for five minutes.

This time when the alarm rings, Kita lets it ring away, eyes shut closed. After the fifth ring, you wake up. For a second he feels you freeze against him.

And then you quickly sit up, like you remembered something.

Kita feels your palm, patting his face. He almost snorts when you bring your finger under his nose, probably checking if he's breathing. He keeps his breathing slow and steady, putting his hundred percent into the act.

You giggle. Slowly, you get up off the bed, hopping off to the kitchen, murmuring all the things you had planned to make to surprise him in bed.

And as the bedroom door closes behind him, Kita covers his face with his palms, rubbing hard against his cheeks and five o'clock beard. As he replays what happened, he grins, rolling around and burying his face in the pillow so his laugh is absorbed by it.

You just might be the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[emmyrosee]

“Baby, I promise I was kidding.”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Rintaro.”

“‘Rintaro?’ Baby, it was a joke! If I knew it would actually make you upset, I wouldn’t have done it.”

Your eyes are watery and pouty when you look at him, and he blinks down at you expectantly. Then you huff, “of course I’m upset! It’s a sign of disrespect.”

Rintaro groans and squats down in front of you, head moving back and forth to keep his eyes locked on yours as you try to move your own gaze, “baby, I swear, I didn’t mean it, I thought it would make you laugh.”

He never thought hitting your Pompurin plush would have you in such shambles. You’ve been ignoring him all ride with a small grimace on your lips, playing with Pompurin’s arms and tiny feet, sometimes answering questions about what’s on the tag. You’re deadset on ignoring him. It’s destroying him.

With a small sigh, he leans up to try and plant a kiss to your lips, despite the fact that the last thing he’d think you’d want is a kiss. It’s something he knows you adore, though, he hopes you see through your anger to see him.

You do pout out slightly to try and chase his lips, and it fills him with relief.

“It was pretend, baby,” he mumbles, trying to convince you. “I’d never mean to hit him, I was pretending to be mad that he’d take you away from me.”

Well. It was only half pretend.

But you don’t need to know that.

You gently twist pompurin’s ears in your fingers, shrugging and shaking your face from his hands slightly. “You hurt my feelings Rin.”

Once again, he grabs your chin, leaning up to press another kiss to your lips. “I know, baby. I thought it’d be funny.”

“Say you’re sorry.”

“I’m so sorry-“

“Not to me,” you grumble. “To him!” You hold up the new pompurin plush, and Rintaro tucks his lips in his mouth to hide the annoyed sigh that wants to slip out.

Annoyed, albeit still endeared.

Green eyes hyper fixate on the doey eyes of pompurin, smacking his lips and nodding in respect. “I’m sorry, Pompurin. I never should’ve hit you. And I hope you’ll consider forgiving me and taking care of them while I’m at practice.”

In his peripheral, he sees you smile, your fingers shifting to move pompurin’s head to nod.

“Thank you for apologizing,” you say as you lower the new plush animal. “I love you.”

He smirks and leans forward one final time to kiss you, and you giggle in the kiss and toss your arms around his neck.

If he could guarantee you’d always be this affectionate after, he’d playfully smack all your stuffed animals.

[augustinewrites]

just alhaitham realizing he wants a baby with you... cw: pregnancy, children

alhaitham is in the middle of reading, spending his lunch hour tucked away in a quiet corner puspa cafe when he feels a poke at his arm.

he slides his headphones off, looking over to see a child standing next to him, clutching something to her chest. 

“excuse me– mister scribe sir?”  

the scribe sighs, tucking his book away. “just alhaitham is fine.”

the child blushes furiously. “oh, um, mister alhaitham sir, my teacher says that your job is reading. could you read this for me please?” 

that was an incredibly juvenile description of his job, but he doesn't correct her. the girl slides what alhaitham recognizes as the children’s book that tighnari had written (and collei had illustrated) to teach the basics of forest safety. the storytelling was mediocre and the illustrations were average, but he supposed they were sufficient enough for children who had no higher education.

alhaitham glances at the clock. he still has a half hour left of his break, and he was nothing if not an advocate for educating young minds.

—

“the lesson is to always be prepared when traveling through the rainforest,” alhaitham explains, closing the book. “there’s always a high probability that you’ll run into fungi, especially if you're on foot like little cyno was. you’d do well to add a variety of antitoxins to your first aid kit.”

the girl considers this, brows pulled into a furrow as she sips at the sunsettia juice he’d ordered for her. 

“why didn’t little cyno just go around the fungi when he saw them? then he wouldn't have gotten the sports.”

“the spores,” alhaitham corrects. “but your point stands. common sense is perhaps the most effective survival tool.” 

children, with their inquisitive and imaginative minds, were adequate problem solvers. they didn't overthink things, instead utilizing a simple, pragmatic way of thinking. 

he wouldn't mind raising a little scholar of his own with you. 

he’d thought a normal amount about having a child before. typical musings, like when he would have one (after school, after securing a decent job). or what their names would be (esfir for a boy, laila for a girl). who would bear his children (the only person he’d ever considered was you).

but these aren’t idle musings anymore. this time, the idea hits him full force, quickly spiraling into a hope. a dream for the future. 

a boy with his eyes and your smile. a girl with your hair colour and his nose. how you’d raise them together, how they’d grow to be intelligent, inquisitive, creative, and endlessly compassionate.  

“sweetheart, there you are!” a relieved voice exclaims. 

the girl sitting across from him perks up as her mother runs up to the table, her smile widening. “mama! mister alhaitham read me a book!”

“i'm so sorry she interrupted your lunch, sir,” the frantic mother looks sheepish as she apologizes, but alhaitham dismisses it with a wave of his hand. 

“it’s alright. if anything, this experience has been rather enlightening.” 

_____

“that's quite the stack,” you comment mildly when your husband enters the bedroom with an armful of textbooks. “which new topic have you been intrigued with this week?”

alhaitham sets the books down on the nightstand and answers, “conception.”

his answer is spoken simply, casually, like he’s talking about the weather and not one of the most life-altering decisions you could make as a couple. 

“conception,” you repeat slowly. “like…”

“you’re a doctor. you’re aware of the biological process behind it.” 

“of course i am,” you say, suddenly feeling flustered. “i just– we’ve never talked about this before, haitham.”

your husband sighs, walking around to your side of the bed and sitting by your legs. “well…i want to talk about it.” 

seconds pass. seconds that almost feel like a lifetime as you watch each other, looking for any unspoken signs of hesitation.

“it’s up to you,” he finally says, gently placing a hand on your ankle. “it’s your body, you’re the one who would be carrying our baby for nine months. if you’re not ready–”

you don't need to hear the rest, crawling over to cup his face in your hands and press a soft kiss to his lips. “i'm ready. we’re ready.” 

his eyes immediately brighten, and he momentarily leaves your grasp to reach across the bed to grab the topmost book from his stack. “there are certain positions that we can try to increase our chances of conceiving. according to studies conducted in fontaine, this one has an effectiveness of 89.5%. it’s called a mating press…”

you wish you could say it’s the first time he’s propositioned you with educational literature. 

“wait, you didn’t ask me,” you giggle, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly. 

he pauses. “will you try this position with me?”

“no, smartass. ask me to have a baby with you.”

your husband grins, hooking his hands under your ass to pull you into his lap. you gasp as he does so, his head dipping down to the crook of your neck. he says your name, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“will you let me put a baby in you, dearest?”

[augustinewrites]

just alhaitham realizing he wants a baby with you... cw: pregnancy, children

alhaitham is in the middle of reading, spending his lunch hour tucked away in a quiet corner puspa cafe when he feels a poke at his arm.

he slides his headphones off, looking over to see a child standing next to him, clutching something to her chest. 

“excuse me– mister scribe sir?”  

the scribe sighs, tucking his book away. “just alhaitham is fine.”

the child blushes furiously. “oh, um, mister alhaitham sir, my teacher says that your job is reading. could you read this for me please?” 

that was an incredibly juvenile description of his job, but he doesn't correct her. the girl slides what alhaitham recognizes as the children’s book that tighnari had written (and collei had illustrated) to teach the basics of forest safety. the storytelling was mediocre and the illustrations were average, but he supposed they were sufficient enough for children who had no higher education.

alhaitham glances at the clock. he still has a half hour left of his break, and he was nothing if not an advocate for educating young minds.

—

“the lesson is to always be prepared when traveling through the rainforest,” alhaitham explains, closing the book. “there’s always a high probability that you’ll run into fungi, especially if you're on foot like little cyno was. you’d do well to add a variety of antitoxins to your first aid kit.”

the girl considers this, brows pulled into a furrow as she sips at the sunsettia juice he’d ordered for her. 

“why didn’t little cyno just go around the fungi when he saw them? then he wouldn't have gotten the sports.”

“the spores,” alhaitham corrects. “but your point stands. common sense is perhaps the most effective survival tool.” 

children, with their inquisitive and imaginative minds, were adequate problem solvers. they didn't overthink things, instead utilizing a simple, pragmatic way of thinking. 

he wouldn't mind raising a little scholar of his own with you. 

he’d thought a normal amount about having a child before. typical musings, like when he would have one (after school, after securing a decent job). or what their names would be (esfir for a boy, laila for a girl). who would bear his children (the only person he’d ever considered was you).

but these aren’t idle musings anymore. this time, the idea hits him full force, quickly spiraling into a hope. a dream for the future. 

a boy with his eyes and your smile. a girl with your hair colour and his nose. how you’d raise them together, how they’d grow to be intelligent, inquisitive, creative, and endlessly compassionate.  

“sweetheart, there you are!” a relieved voice exclaims. 

the girl sitting across from him perks up as her mother runs up to the table, her smile widening. “mama! mister alhaitham read me a book!”

“i'm so sorry she interrupted your lunch, sir,” the frantic mother looks sheepish as she apologizes, but alhaitham dismisses it with a wave of his hand. 

“it’s alright. if anything, this experience has been rather enlightening.” 

_____

“that's quite the stack,” you comment mildly when your husband enters the bedroom with an armful of textbooks. “which new topic have you been intrigued with this week?”

alhaitham sets the books down on the nightstand and answers, “conception.”

his answer is spoken simply, casually, like he’s talking about the weather and not one of the most life-altering decisions you could make as a couple. 

“conception,” you repeat slowly. “like…”

“you’re a doctor. you’re aware of the biological process behind it.” 

“of course i am,” you say, suddenly feeling flustered. “i just– we’ve never talked about this before, haitham.”

your husband sighs, walking around to your side of the bed and sitting by your legs. “well…i want to talk about it.” 

seconds pass. seconds that almost feel like a lifetime as you watch each other, looking for any unspoken signs of hesitation.

“it’s up to you,” he finally says, gently placing a hand on your ankle. “it’s your body, you’re the one who would be carrying our baby for nine months. if you’re not ready–”

you don't need to hear the rest, crawling over to cup his face in your hands and press a soft kiss to his lips. “i'm ready. we’re ready.” 

his eyes immediately brighten, and he momentarily leaves your grasp to reach across the bed to grab the topmost book from his stack. “there are certain positions that we can try to increase our chances of conceiving. according to studies conducted in fontaine, this one has an effectiveness of 89.5%. it’s called a mating press…”

you wish you could say it’s the first time he’s propositioned you with educational literature. 

“wait, you didn’t ask me,” you giggle, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly. 

he pauses. “will you try this position with me?”

“no, smartass. ask me to have a baby with you.”

your husband grins, hooking his hands under your ass to pull you into his lap. you gasp as he does so, his head dipping down to the crook of your neck. he says your name, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“will you let me put a baby in you, dearest?”

[mirkoluvs]

★ MISSING A DATE BECAUSE OF AN INJURY WITH MHA CHARACTERS

characters: midoriya, bakugo, todoroki, kirishima, denki

note(s): THANK YOU GUYS FOR 1K WTFFFFF 😭😭💞💞💞 also im bringing back the smaus so drop your requests!!!

© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!

[kisstrela-deactivated20240714]

𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 .ᐣ

the one you detest, the one you run to.

ᯓ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 .ᐟ wriothesley, alhaitham, dr ratio, blade x fem!reader (separate).

ᯓ 𝐜𝐰 .ᐟ i must've eaten something that's made me obsessively write so much about these bozos. anyways this is like THE trope frfr, ENEMIES TO LOVERS HELL YEAH, mentions of violence/blood and all that, angst 🤭🤭 and then fluff, crack, PINING, sexual tension 😌, 3.1k words (sigh), no use of "y/n" or "[name]", SFW, there's prob more but whatever ENJOY Y'ALL, rbs are appreciated!! <3

ᯓ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 .ᐟ haha so im starting to run out of ideas!! if you have any you'd like to see me write, send them in!! thank you all so much, i didn't expect my fics to blow up 🥲

ᯓ WRIOTHESLEY .ᐟ

With every fibre of your being, you detested the man. You hated his cool, easy-going façade and uppity morals. You could not stand his cockiness, and you loathed his dimpled smile. And, most of all, you abhorred how drawn you were to him.

So why was he the first person you went to when that group of thugs were on your trail, planning on beating you up? When you had barely escaped their clutches with a sweet black eye and sprained wrist?

“Well, I’ll be damned. You were certainly not the person I expected to open my office door to at one in the morning.” Duke Wriothesley’s dark brows were lifted into a mildly surprised expression. His massive arms were crossed upon a wide chest, biceps bulging, and he was looking down at you from above a shapely nose. “What could Your Ladyship possibly want with a scumbug like me?”

You hadn’t stepped fully into the light yet, keeping your head down and hair over your face. You cradled your throbbing wrist gently. Sucking in a deep breath, you swallowed your pride. “…I need your help.”

“Oh?” You tried not to seethe too much at his aggravating, exultant tone. I’m sure this is just what he’s been waiting for. You wanted nothing more than to throttle him. Wriothesley shifted, uncrossing one arm and lifting his hand to brush it across his mouth, covering his sneer. “To think I’d finally be extended such an honour by You Ladysh—” “Oh, shut your mouth.” You finally moved into the light from behind him and kept your eyes down. “I said I need your help. Just for the night. I have these people on my ass trying to—”

“Who the hell did this to you?” A large hand grasped your arm and wrenched you inside, the door slamming shut behind you. You yelped at his grip on your injured wrist, flinching back. Wriothesley let go, and you pressed yourself up against the door. 

A gentler hand brushed your hair to the side, before grazing your cheek and delicately lifting your chin. Two grey-blue eyes gazed down at your injured state. “Who did this to you?” His words were softer, quieter than before.

“Just a bunch of hooligans,” you muttered in reply, wincing at your aching wrist. “Punched me and twisted my arm. Thankfully, it’s only sprained. I got away before they could break anything.”

There was a beat of silence, where the Duke just studied you. Your cheeks heated under his intense scrutiny. He had leaned in close, and then one his arms encircled your waist. “Come with me. Let’s get you upstairs.”

You said nothing, and his arm moved from your middle to your shoulders, wrapping around them tightly as he led you to the steps. Gone was his previous mocking veneer, now replaced by an expression torn between fury and…concern?

“Do you know those hooligans?” Wriothesley softly asked, and you hadn’t heard his voice be so gentle. You both reached his main floor, and he sat you down on the couch. You delicately held your swollen wrist to your chest. The Duke turned and rummaged about in his bathroom for a first aid kit. “Why were they after you?” “Debt my sorry excuse for a father left behind, I suppose.” You shrugged, allowing him to place an ice pack he’d found to your black eye, as he turned to grab another for your wrist. He was uncharacteristically silent, so you continued. “I didn’t…know who else to go to. I’m sorry for disturbing you at such a late hour.”

Where was your self-worth? Your dignity? Your pride? You once swore to never run to this awful man for anything. Never interact with him any more than you had to. So, what was this? This…sitting on his couch, during the wee hours of the morning, allowing him to nurse you?

This was too personal. Too close for comfort. Too intimate. Why was he looking at you like that? Like it had hit him he’d almost lost you. What was going on?

“Don’t worry about it,” Wriothesley muttered, and the couch dipped as he took a seat beside you. Too close. The musky scent of his body soap and shampoo clouded your senses. “What did the men look like?”

“I…don’t know. It was too dark to see.” You hissed at his delicate handling of your wrist as he bandaged it. “They’ll be back. They’re looking for me. I don’t know what to do.”

“Stay with me,” was all he said. Your head snapped up to look at him, baffled. The Duke stared back intensely. “You will be safe with me. Of course, it won’t be long. When I get my hands on them, I’ll…”

He trailed off, jaw clenching, and he looked away. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed harshly. “Just—stay. With me. For the time being. Please.”

You weren’t sure if he was conscious of it, but his hand was grasping your knee tightly, white-knuckled. You didn’t know what came over you when you brushed your fingers against his lightly. He flinched, and then he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together. The notion whipped the air from your lungs. “Will you stay?”

You couldn’t hold his earnest gaze. So you looked away, heart pumping. “…Alright.”

ᯓ ALHAITHAM .ᐟ

Turquoise eyes flecked with amber gazed at you vehemently. “Who did this to you?”

You gulped, averting your own eyes testily. “…Some Fatui.”

“Where?” You watched as his fists clenched at his sides. “Tell me, where are they?”

“Why? What are you going to do? Beat them up?” Why were you even here? Why, of all places and people, did you have to run to Alhaitham? This man has made it quite clear he despises your company, and the feeling is mutual. Yet, here you are, standing with the stupidly handsome Head Scribe in his living room, Kaveh snoring away in his bedroom down the hall.

“I’ll kill them,” he bluntly answered, and his face was stonier than usual. “How dare they touch you? I’ll wring their ne—”

“Oh, whatever.” You waved a dismissive hand and turned for the door. “Sorry for turning up so late. I’ll go now. You should go back to sle—”

“Stop.” A hand found your shoulder, and Alhaitham whirled you around to face him again. “Sit on the couch. I’ll get the first aid kit. That cut on your cheek…”

A gentle thumb brushed at the skin just beneath it, touch featherlight. “It doesn’t need stitches, thank the gods. Sit.”

The ashen-haired man pushed you lightly to the sofa, and you tried to ignore how good he looked in his nightshirt. It hugged every curve and crevice nicely, just like that stupid compression top he sports everyday. It’s like he’s trying to flaunt his built figure. It’s distracting, and you looked away.

It took a minute before he was kneeling down before you and nursing your skinned knees. Seriously, why did I come here? All of this you could’ve done on your own. Instead, the pompous, arrogant Head Scribe of the Akademiya was gently band-aiding your grazed skin and cut cheek. 

“How on earth did you get attacked by Fatui?” he asked softly, voice still gravelly with sleep. It ashamed you at how you’d forced him out of bed to let you in. Alhaitham didn’t appear bothered over it. “Were you wandering about again, looking for your next plant to study? Are you an idiot?”

You sighed. “I was coming back from Gandharva Ville.” You shifted slightly against the couch. “They just wanted Mora. I tripped and hurt myself. I ran into the bush before they could get a hand on me.”

“Well,” is all he said. Alhaitham pressed the edges of the plasters to your grazes, sticking them to your skin, and moved in close to nurse your cut. Your breath hitched. He didn’t seem bothered at all by the close proximity. “It seems some lives were spared tonight.”

“Whatever, nerd.” You flicked his forehead, and he just blinked at you. A smile was pricking at the corners of your mouth. “You talk all tough while you’ve got Kaveh’s bunny slippers on your feet. Real scary.”

Alhaitham shrugged. For once, you both weren’t arguing. Instead, banter was free flowing. “He’s the one who left them lying around. Goes on to me about the mess I leave around, but you should see how he flings off his shoes haphazardly at the door.”

“Mhm.” You pointed to the pile of books on the ground by your seat. “What’re those, then?” “Books,” he stated the obvious. “You might as well sleep here for the night. I don’t feel like walking you home.”

“Oh, such a gentleman.” Nothing beats this man’s bluntness. “Kaveh would. I like Kaveh. He’s nicer to me than you are.”

“Is that so.” Alhaitham slid the cap of antiseptic he was using on your cut back onto the tube. “Too bad. You’re stuck with me—well, I’m stuck with you.” “You are, are you?” You dared to brush some of his unkempt bangs to the side. He halted in his movements, and gazed up at you in question. You poked his cheek. “I owe you one for this. Looks like you’ll be stuck with me for a while.”

He leaned in closer, and you didn’t pull away. “Yeah? Why, how are you going to pay me back for this? I lost precious sleep over you tonight. What’s the price you’re willing to pay?” “I don’t know, you tell me. What will you have me do?”

“Stay the night.” He tilted his head at you. “And have a drink with me at the tavern tomorrow.”

“No Kaveh?”

“Absolutely no Kaveh.”

“…Just the two of us?”

“Just the two of us.”

“That’s all?”

“…I’ve got other things in mind.”

“Like?”

“You’ll see.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. “Should I be worried?” “I don’t know.” Alhaitham’s eyes flickered up and met yours. “Should you?”

“Maybe.”

“Mm.” Fingers brushed tenderly against your cheek. “Maybe.”

ᯓ DR RATIO .ᐟ

Dr Veritas Ratio glared murderously at you. “The sheer volume of idiocy you possess is truly astounding.”

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you for asking, Doctor. You really are the most caring medic I’ve ever come across. And yes, it hurts a little—will you kiss it better for me?”

The man recoiled from you, expression twisted into revulsion. “Oh, you are repugnant. How on earth did you manage to get such a bruise on your face?” Dr Ratio stood and crossed his arms, looking down at you. He arched a brow. “It looks like you were hit—” Then it dawned on him. In a flash, he was squatting in front of you, grasping your upper arms, gazing up at you with fierce vermillion eyes. “Who did this to you? Who’s the bastard? When I get my hands on them I—”

“Woah, slow down, doc.” You held up two of your hands best you could with his grip on your arms. “It’s fine. I just took a smack from one of the Antimatter Legions. Nothing too big. I just need a bit of ice on it and I’ll be fit as a fiddle again.”

He heaved a sigh, and his hold on you loosened. You missed the warmth of his hands. Dr Ratio shook his head. “It’s like you’re incapable of protecting yourself. Seriously? You let them punch you? Where is your competence? Your sense of self-preservation?”

“Is this your weird way of expressing concern for me?” You arched a brow of your own. “Through degradation?” Then you winked at him. “Didn’t think you were into such things, doctor.”

A pink tint flushed across his cheeks. “You—! How unseemly! That is not what I meant, and you know it!” He threw up his hands. “Oh, why do I even bother?” Then the man ran a hand over his (blushing) face. “It seems as if I’m constantly afflicted with bad luck, having to deal with imbeciles like you day in and day out! It really gets tiring.”

“Ah, yes, poor you. No one understands how you’re basically shouldering the entire cosmos by yourself.”

“Exactly! See, sometimes you do use your brain.” He whirled around and went into his kitchen in just the next room. There was the sound of the freezer opening, him wrenching out the drawers inside, and the crackling of frozen packaged produce. He entered the sitting room again, a bag of peas wrapped in a cloth in hand, and he gently pressed it to your bruised cheek. He didn’t appear to notice your unimpressed look at his blatant display of hubris. “I can’t believe I’m doing this for you. I should kick you out.”

“Go ahead.” You accepted the ice pack and held it to your face. “No one’s stopping you.”

He harrumphed and grabbed his tome, the same one he always had on him and even smacked people over the head with. “Half an hour you stay here. Then you go. You’re giving me a headache.”

“You’re doing all the whining here, Veritas.” You leaned back into the armchair he’d sat you in and crossed one leg over the other. “And even so, you don’t seem to be in any particular hurry to show me the door.”

“I am a doctor. I do not reject patients.” Dr Ratio’s eyes were on his book. “Am I not benevolent? Kindly suffering the company of idiots like you.”

“So benevolent,” you drawled sarcastically. “Couldn’t ask for a more generous physician. It’s making me tear up, how unappreciated you are.”

“Goodness! I do suppose my great intellect and learned influence has had a miraculous impact on your rather dull acumen.” Dr Ratio turned and fixed you with a pleased look. It seemed he was immune to sarcasm. “Well, then, that settles it. You are to stay here the night.” “What?” You didn’t think you’d be able to bear any more of his arrogance and self-worship for much longer. “Stay the night? No. No, I don’t need to. You’ve been kind enough giving me this ice pack, and I really should get out of your hair—”

“Not at all! It’s no bother.” Weren’t you just going on about how much of a nuisance I am? You stared incredulously at the man before you. Stroke his ego right, you surmised, and you’re in his good books.

Dr Ratio stood to his feet before you could insist. “Now, let’s take a look at that bruise. Ooh. What a nasty purple.” You were beginning to wonder if he was bipolar, or this was just what all eccentrics were like. He nodded to himself. “You’ll be fine by morning. Recuperating here is optimal, and it keeps you out of harm’s way. That way, you won’t go around getting yourself punched anymore.”

You sighed. In all the years you’d known this man, you’d never been able to work him out. “You are an idiot, Veritas.”

“Me? An idiot? You were hit harder than I thought.” He pressed a hand to your forehead. “Are you concussed? You’re spouting more nonsense than usual.”

You didn’t even bother answering. There’s just no getting through to this man. You peered up at him resolutely. He blinked down at you. “What’s that look for?”

You stared, grinned, and huffed out a laugh. Even with all his faults, you were rather fond of this prideful moron. “Nothing, Veritas. Nothing.”

ᯓ BLADE .ᐟ

Rain battered against your clammy skin. Your hand clutched at your side. The rain was swiftly washing away the blood seepage from your gash. Your chest heaved; why was it so hard to breathe? The world was swimming. Even with the bitterly cold, blustering wind and lashing downpour, you felt hot, feverish, and lightheaded. 

The rooftop you had taken refuge on was shelterless, and the onslaught of rain had you soaked through. You didn’t know where you were. You weren’t on the Luofu, you weren’t in Jarilo-XI, you weren’t anywhere.

All you knew is that you barely escaped with your life. And life was gushing out of you. It’s so hot.

Your senses were all muddled, but you heard the sound of footsteps splattering through the puddles around. Slow, calculated steps, undeniably sure-footed, totally secure. Your heart leapt weakly in your ribcage, urging you to move. You tried. It’s so hot.

The footsteps came to a stop right beside you. You half-consciously accepted your fate. I die here, huh? How underwhelming. You ceased squirming.

“Pathetic.” A vaguely familiar deep voice. Expensive shoes and dark trousers were all you could see. A rustle of clothing, a slight creak of leather, and red, cold eyes flecked with gold. His bangs were plastered to his face, rainwater dripping off his chin. “Who did this to you?”

You barely had the energy to huff out a humourless laugh. “That’s not something…for you to worry about. I’m almost dead. Leave me.”

A large, bandaged hand reached out, slowly extending toward you, and you had no strength to flinch away. His pointer and middle finger brushed a tendril of hair out of your eyes. Then his gaze dropped down to stare at your bloody hand. “Who did this to you?”

You didn’t answer, just staring at him silently, blankly. Blade’s eyes met yours again. They were dark with a storm more violent than the one raging above you both. “Who did this to you?”

“The…IPC,” you breathed out, voice hardly audible above the thrashing rain and resounding thunder. “I stole something. They tracked me down. As you can see I…barely got away in time.”

There was a flash of lightning, briefly illuminating Blade’s cold, sharp features for a fraction of a second. He was silent, making no move to help staunch your wound, help you up, help you stay alive. This man was never one to care enough to even try. 

“Shall I kill them?” After a long moment of silence and him just staring at you, Blade’s deep voice drew you from your lethargic state once more. “Shall I bring them to you, and slaughter each and every one of them in front of you?”

You chuckled weakly. “I’m not…too keen on witnessing your bloodthirsty urges for revenge, Blade.” You shook your head twice, as that was as much as you could manage. “Not for me. Don’t do that for me.”

You closed your eyes, accepting the fact that this stone-hearted man wasn’t going to help you. Your consciousness was fading speedily, and your blurred senses barely picked up the sound of Blade heaving a sigh and stripping himself of his cloak. A scrape of a shoe shifting, and then his scent enveloped you. One arm found your shoulders, and the other slung itself under your knees, and you were in the air.

Your head rested against his shoulder. You forced open your eyes. “…Why?”

“Because,” he said, chest rumbling with his words. “I’ve died a lot of deaths, and you are not worthy of this one.”

His answer confused you, too much for your jumbled thoughts to process. But...Blade was warm. Even in the freezing rain and blisteringly cold wind, he was warm.

all rights reserved © kisstrela 2024. do not copy, repost, redistribute, translate, plagiarise or modify my work(s) in any way on any platform. thank you.

[soltuneia]

alhaitham x reader. wc: 540. fluff. pt 3. of '—the scribe, in love.' pt. 2.

alhaitham always, always knows when something decides to worm its way into your mind. he can practically see it wiggle around, the gears in your skull turning and the cogs moving as you chew on your fingernail. the air around you almost buzzes with the energy of the idea bouncing in your head.

he watches you carefully throughout the day, one eye on his work and another on you. you keep stealing what he's sure you think are covert glances, and he bites back the urge to make a remark. instead, he decides to wait. 

when you approach him in the evening, two books tucked to your chest, he knows he'll find out soon enough. 

the countdown begins when you bring his head to your lap while he reads. with every page you flip above his head, he mentally marks another number.

three. two. one. 

“alhaitham?” 

there it is. he hums in response, eyes never parting from the words in his page.

“how do you feel about nicknames?”

now that, he did not expect. as he chooses his next words carefully, he carefully studies the glint in your eyes. idly, he wonders why you asked.

"i have no opinions about them," he says, after a few moments of silence. 

"so," you stretch out the 'o' sound, "can i call you my darling?"

"unexpected." he blinks. "but i don't see why not," odd, but a harmless request.

"can i call you sweetheart too, then?" 

"call me whatever you like," he sits up, deciding to get a drink of water. he only just takes a sip when you pipe up next.

"what about calling you my snookums?"

he chokes.  you and your timing. "does that word even exist in the dictionary?" he asks, attempting to nonchalantly distract you. 

goodness knows that if he let even a single moment of weakness show, you'd pick up on it and use the nickname on him for eternity. and if kaveh got wind of it?

the architect would haunt him with it for months.

you sigh, and that's when he knows you're nowhere near done. but you say nothing, so he assumes you're satisfied for the time being.

hours later, night blankets sumeru city, inky sky enveloping all. you've been suspiciously silent about your earlier topic of conversation. 

it is not until the two of you are comfortably settled in bed, your head resting on his outstretched arm as you face his chest, that he sees the gears turn once again. your eyes are soft, and your hand gently strokes his cheek. 

"can i call you hai-hai?" you ask, voice not louder than a breath next to his ear. 

color starts to dance on his cheeks, and he averts his eyes. he opens his mouth in protest, but words die in his throat.

who would've thought the acting grand sage, one who knows so, so many words, in so many languages, would be rendered speechless by a nickname, and such a silly one at that?

you do not wait for a response. a smile slowly spreads across your face and the hand on your face squishes, then pokes his cheek.

"hai-hai it is, then." you press a kiss to his nose. "goodnight, hai-hai."

you'd be the death of him.

[tartilli-deactivated20240428]

wrio, neuvi, nd haitham w a gn!reader who has like the most angelic awooga voice and looks ever but has such an unhinged personality that it removes from the prior facts🧍. this is not a rq this is a demand

G/N!Reader x Wriothesley / Neuvillette / Alhaitham

can be read as platonic or romantic, whichever you prefer, really :)

a/n: HELLO HI MILLIE i'm so sorry this took so long(i've been taking my finals) but i finally finished it!!!

this is my first time answering a request so i hope this is to your liking, there's mild swearing so proceed with caution if that isn't your thing

also i had no idea how to write any of the characters you mentioned so i had to study their characters and read fics centered around them

i wasn't entirely sure what format you wanted(bullet headcanons form or fic form) so i kind of went for a mix of both, if that's okay

WRIOTHESLEY(i learned how to spell his name right just for this)

when he first hears your voice, he is, to put it simply, taken a back.

if he's being honest, you're pretty good looking, but not exceptionally so(and it certainly doesn't help that you're in fontaine of all places).

so it comes as a surprise when you open your mouth, and the most heavenly sound wriothesley's ever heard, emerges from it.

it takes him several seconds to process it.

when he finally regains his composure, he shakes it off as just another new interesting thing in his life.

it soon becomes apparent, though, that the archons themselves unleashed you onto teyvat with the intent of bringing chaos to the land.

the two of you are playing tgc in his office, everything is going great(he's mostly winning) until you put down your deck, a serious expression on your face.

"wriothesley, i swear to the archons, if you win another game, i will shit on my first born."

okay what. just, what the actual fuck-

NEUVILETTE

being known as the aloof and serious ludex of fontaine, neuvilette has never been one for idle chat(really, it's moreso the fact that he's poor at it rather than any actual distaste for the thing).

so when he hears your voice for the first time, he thinks it notable, but decides not to comment.

however, as the two of you begin to spend more and more time together, he muses that hmm maybe he should mention it. so he does.

he doesn't want you thinking that he doesn't like your voice because he does! really, he does.

it soothes him, reminding him of the the soft gurgling sounds made by the waters of a river as waves rush past or the melodic sound of dewdrops falling off a leaf the morning after he finishes crying.

in short: neuvilette really likes your voice

but he's also incredibly concerned for its owner

the two of you will be walking around fontaine, enjoying eachother's company and discussing a confidential topic that neuvillette is privy to information concerning, you'll turn to him and say with the most casual expression on your face:

"if you tell me, i promise to give you each of my toes."

just when neuvillette thinks that he's beginning to understand humanity, he's proven wrong.

when he relays this to you, you only laugh.

privately, he's already compiled a list of all the best therapists in teyvat.

ALHAITHAM

"you have a unique voice."

that's the first thing he says upon meeting you.

well, at least he cut to the chase?

it's a secret to no one that alhaitham finds your voice amusing.

he'll often introduce you to new people just to see the shock on their faces when you make, what he likes to call, one of your statements.

he, himself, was a victim of one.

he'd been reading a book about the mortal body and its parts- fascinating stuff, really, when you walked up to him.

with the straightest face in all of teyvat, in your silky, angel-like voice, you uttered the sentence:

"only cool people don't have reproductive organs."

you proceeded to skip away as if you'd said nothing to him at all.

alhaitham was left bewildered(and a bit impressed).

AAAA it's done

if it's bad it's probably because i was too tired to proofread 😞 but hopefully this isn't too ooc

i don't really like this one as it doesn't really display my personal writing style distinctively enough, i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless, though!

[miniimight]

MISSING A DATE . they forget about a big date with you and realize it too late

with deku + bakugou (in their pro-hero era)

one thing about him is that he always tried his absolute best to make time for you amid his busy schedule. you understood that you weren't the only one that demanded his attention due to his work and were okay with that. as long as you still got your 'me-time' with him, where he blocked out the world and focused on you and only you, you couldn't ask for a more perfect relationship.

but this was your last straw. you had forgiven the late nights, the last-minute cancellations—gotten used to being alone in your luxurious apartment, which only reminded you of the one thing you were missing.

you had planned this date for months. a set time where you both blocked off time that night to just be with each other in a word that tried everything to keep you apart.

"remember tonight, baby." you chirped as you kissed him goodbye that morning.

he hummed and gave you a tight hug before leaving.

you felt giddy as you prepared yourself, slipping into your best clothes and fixing yourself in the mirror. you felt as you did on the night of your first date with him. you couldn't be more excited.

then, you waited. and waited. the restaurant happily sat you next to a window, the streetlamps twinkling romantically against the dusky backdrop.

you waited some more. soon your bright posture slouched as your checked your phone. messaged him a couple times, called a few times more. he's probably just running late.

families came and went, and before you knew it, hours had passed.

you burned in embarrassment as you stared at the empty chair across from you, focusing your frustration as if he was sitting there. but even that didn't give you relief. every one of your thoughts and feelings came to the same conclusion—

he hadn't shown up.

IZUKU

you ordered some food to-go. why not get something out of this outing? besides, the food would do good to distract you from the dread swirling in your stomach. you flashed the server a quick smile before dragging your feet out the restaurant.

you threw your bag, coat, and shoes to the ground as you walked into your apartment, uncaring of where they ended up. you needed the couch, a movie, and the food you were carrying.

a few hours later, izuku showed up. you heard the door slide open and the jangle of his keys. his heavy sigh was familiar and it almost made you feel bad for feeling so angry about him missing this date. almost.

you made no move to greet him as he entered the living space, a big grin plastered on his face. "you look pretty."

the compliment was just salt on the wound, ironically. you hummed, remaining laser focused on your show.

he tugged off his white gloves and set them on the table. "what's got you all dressed up tonight, hmm?" he sat next to you, running his hands up and down your arm.

you just handed him one of the takeout boxes. "want some?" you said dryly.

"what's this—? oh, i recognize the name of this restaurant..." he surveyed the box in his hands, his voice becoming quieter as he sunk into his thoughts. "oh."

you got off the couch.

"oh." he repeated, staring at the takeout box incredulously. "baby, don't tell me tonight was—"

"it was." you said simply, walking into the bedroom. you couldn't bear to look at him.

"fuck." you heard him hiss. a light thudding followed as he hurried after you. "y/n, god, i'm so sorry—don't tell me you went there alone—"

"izuku, i don't care anymore." you turned around abruptly, making him skid to a halt before you. his expression read shock. "i don't."

he slumped and inched closer to you. "no, don't say that—"

"you don't give me a reason to care anymore." you laughed wryly though your lips trembled. "i—" your breath hitched and you turned away from him.

his voice sounded watery as he tried to turn your body to face him again. "i'm so sorry, there was a hangout at the agency after work today and... shit, i totally forgot—"

"a fucking party?" you snapped. "you blew off the date you and i planned for months in advance because we never get to spend time together anymore to hang out with the same goddamn people you see every single day?"

he groaned. "i know, i know—"

"you don't know, izuku." your voice quivered. "you don't, okay?" you sobbed.

he was stunned to silence, unsure of how to right something so horribly wrong.

"you don't know what it's like to always be waiting. i'm always waiting for you. you always have something better to do." you sobbed, sitting on the edge of the bed. you really didn't want to have this conversation with him; you knew you'd break down sobbing. you thought it would've been best if he didn't come back home at all.

he knelt beside you, resting his head where your knees hung over the bed. he stared up at your heartbroken face with tears threatening to flow. "there is nothing that deserves my time more than you." he said firmly.

"you say that as if it's true." you said quietly. "but you don't even..." you looked away from him to reign in your emotions.

he frowned deeply. he knew it was all his fault. you reminded him this morning and he still forgot. you had no reason to believe the words coming out of his mouth. that doesn't mean he's going to stop trying to prove them.

he rested his head against your stomach and wrapped his arms around you tightly. "you have every right to hate me right now, y/n. you've been lonely and overlooked and i haven't done anything to make things better."

you refused to look at him.

he tilted his head with hopes of catching your gaze. "y/n, i mean it. there's nothing that deserves my time more than you. anyone else would've left me. you've given me love and understanding with my hero work..." he choked on his words, finally facing the reality of his relationship. "and i've just taken it and left you behind."

you sniffled.

he stood, bending at the waist to kiss your forehead. "i love you. so much. it's time i start proving it, huh?"

your eyes flickered to his, questioning evident on your expression.

he smiled sadly. "japan has many heroes. i'm sure kacchan and todoroki can handle things without me for a while."

you huffed and rolled your eyes. "very funny. you're a hero, izuku, it's in your nature to shoulder everything." you pouted, guilt threatening to inhabit your thoughts.

he shook his head, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "i'm dead serious. the world doesn't need me everyday, you do. and i'll adjust my schedule to suit."

"but..." you groaned. "god, why do i feel guilty now?" you mumbled.

"stop it. you're not keeping me away from anything. this was long overdue. nothing would make me happier," he grinned and kissed you again before tackling you in a hug.

BAKUGOU

you left the restaurant without another word, feeling so sick to the stomach that you couldn't even bear to go home to the empty apartment.

you tried desperately to convince yourself that something important was holding him up. he didn't forget. he just had some life-threatening epic battle that he needed to attend to. he didn't forget.

you crashed at a friend's house for the night, after a very satisfying rant session about your dilemma. they were a great soundboard and didn't try to regulate your emotions. in a lot of cases, just letting your feelings fly free was the best way to cope with a situation out of your hands.

rrrring rrring

you saw the caller ID and was tempted to ignore the call. but your hands moved on their own, accepting it and putting the phone to your ear.

"y/n l/n." bakugou snarled on the other side. "where the fuck are you?"

"a friend's house."

"why?"

you shrugged, hoping your unbothered reaction would be translated across the phone. "wanted to be with someone last night after my boyfriend stood me up."

silence. a very long silence. you heard him cuss under his breath before he replied. "yesterday was our date."

you hummed.

"y/n. come home."

"i'm good here, really."

"i'm serious, come home."

"why? the off-chance of seeing you there?"

his voice grew more desperate. "y/n—" his breath caught in his throat. "i'm home. i'm waiting for you. we can do something today, maybe—"

"katsuki, you can't keep treating me like a test that you can make up whenever you fail the real thing. you're not there when it fucking matters." you snapped, your resolve crumbling as your eyes started to water.

he gave a weighted sigh. "you're right. i've been treating you like shit."

you scoffed.

"but you're always on my mind. every time i see you asleep when you were trying to wait up for me, i—" he inhaled deeply, trying to keep it together. "i'm not the best boyfriend. believe me, i know that. and i'm losing you... i can see that, too."

you waited.

he sniffed. "come home, y/n. please. i—"

you hung up. you tossed your phone aside and stretched. you gently wiped at your cheeks, realizing how many tears streaked them.

after thanking your friend for their hospitality, you decided to go home. you dreaded the conversation that awaited you. uncertainty riddled your thoughts; was this the end?

you opened the door and immediately heard pounding footsteps to meet you. bakugou stood there, looking uncharacteristically stressed and awkward.

you just gave him a passing glance as you slipped off your shoes, hanging your coat up. you walked past him, going to the washroom to refresh yourself with a much needed shower.

as the water ran down your skin, you began to feel guilty. he was a hero. he saved lives. and you were crying over a missed date with him? when his mere presence meant the safety of those around him?

no matter how valid your frustration and sadness was, you couldn't help the creeping guilt from overwriting your feelings.

you stepped out of the shower, then dressed comfortably for a night in. when you opened the bathroom door, he was waiting outside like a puppy.

you sighed. "i'm sorry." you finally said.

his neck snapped to look at you. "why the fuck are you apologizing?"

"you're a hero. i knew what i'd be signing up for when i got into a relationship with you—"

"are you crazy?" he growled, grabbing your cheeks and tilting your face to look at him. he searched your eyes with concern, as if there was something wrong with you. "you don't need to apologize. my being a hero is no excuse for the way i've been treating you."

you frowned. "but—"

"no." he pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your head. "you—" he laughed dryly. "i can't believe you thought to apologize to me. you're really crazy."

you opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off. "i'm so lucky to have you. seriously. i can't live without you and i will do everything to prove that from now on."

you pulled away and looked at him. "you better mean it."

he gave you a lopsided grin. "i do. thanks..." he trailed off.

you cocked your head to the side. "for...?"

he kissed you gently. "staying." he hugged you tightly, his next words barely a whisper, "i'm always gonna be there for you."

amidst a couple of tears, you believed him.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[danijaci]

"jealous, jealous, jealous boyy.." ft. diluc

bro was discombobulated

[uravichii]

pov: you’re drop-dead gorgeous (and they don’t know how to deal with it)

character/s: bakugo katsuki, shinsou hitoshi, kaminari denki, todoroki shouto

genre: fluff, crack (?), them hyping u up like there’s no tomorrow, uhh reader wears makeup 🤕

notes: this is for all u pretty mfs aka all of u whether u believe it or not YOU ARE PRETTY AMD HOT AND AMAZING 😡‼️ also disclaimer: the boys love u not just for your face. they think you’re so cool for being beautiful inside n out and this is just them appreciating the out 🧎‍♀️

bakugo katsuki thinks you’re so pretty that his only response to it is to be angry. he’d watch intently the way you’d smooth your clothes down and cutely fiddle with your hair in the mirror as if there’s even anything to fix. he’ll cup your pretty face in his hands and squeeze your cheeks together (cuteness aggression probably), “tell me why you’re so fucking pretty all the time? what are you so pretty for, huh?!”

bakugo katsuki would always watch you do your makeup and hair and then slip into the prettiest clothes only you can pull off and he’s just mesmerized by the whole thing.

“katsuki, please stop drooling and get dressed. we’re gonna be late.”

his only response is: “fuck off.”

because he can never deny nor hide the fact that he constantly admires you every chance he gets. he storms his way to you and snatches a shimmery eyeshadow from your makeup bag. “tch, you don’t even need any of this shit.”

“you don’t like it, katsuki?” you stare up at him doe-eyed, easily making his heart skip a beat.

“h-hah?! i didn’t say that!” he shoves it to your hand, “now do this glittery shit next!”

and you just ditch whatever plans you’d made and spend the rest of the night trying on different makeup looks. he’ll insist that you sit on his lap while you doll yourself up just because, and you gladly do so but then you both end up wearing a full face of glam makeup 🧍‍♀️ he doesn’t know how he just let it happen but he’s like, “whatever makes you fucking happy, y/n.”

he then proceeds to tell you that, “every one of those ugly extras should grovel at your feet, worship the ground you walk on, and then beg for your forgiveness.”

“forgive them for what?”

he stares blankly at you. “for breathing the same air as you.”

bakugo katsuki’s not active on social media at all but on his instagram, his first and only post is a photo dump of just youー the selfies you took on his phone, your date outfits, candid photos (by courtesy of bakugo katsuki) of you smiling at a stray cat, the power nap you took on his shoulder, and his favorite one by far: a photo of you wearing his black tank top that completely swallows you up, holding up two little peace signs on your cheeks.

and of course, he captions it, “u and ur ugly ass wish u were y/n.”

Keep reading

[miniimight]

❝ CAN WE LEAVE ? ❞ feeling overstimulated at an event, you ask him to take you home

with deku, bakugou, todoroki ( pro heroes )

notes something short while i work on requests ! they are open so shoot me an ask with whatever scenario want me to write ! <3

it was so loud. it was too bright. and the music's vibration grated on your sanity with every rhythmic thump. there were too many people—too many bodies, so many conversations, and shit it was so hot. you felt as if you were floating, in a woozy state as you made your way over to your boyfriend, who was chatting with a couple friends.

IZUKU

at your hushed whisper, izuku immediately honed into your expression and body language. his eyebrows creased in concern as he guided the both of you to a corner. "what's wrong, love?"

you pursed your lips. "there's just... there's a lot of..." you sighed, unsure of how to phrase it.

he leaned into you, blocking you from the party scene behind him. "it's okay, sweetheart, we don't have to stay if you don't wanna." he read your mind and you couldn't be more grateful.

tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as your head pounded. "izuku..." you whined, massaging your temples.

deku shushed you and pulled you into his chest, helping you walk out of the venue. "let's go home."

"thanks..."

"no need to thank me." he smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead as he hoisted you up and into his arms. "i was over it a while ago."

you giggled and he flashed a goofy smile.

he took you to your side of the car before climbing in himself, turning down the radio and resting a loving hand on your thigh. "rest up."

you laughed softly. "if i sleep, i might not get up, even when we get home. you'd have to carry me."

he looked at you playfully, a smirk on his lips. "it's cute how you think that'd be a problem for me, love." he pat your thigh as if that was a done deal, pulling out into the road.

the comfortable silence lulled you to sleep.

BAKUGO

"home?" he asked.

you nodded shyly.

he stood up and said a brash goodbye to his friends, lacing your hand in his as he pulled you through the crowd. once you were both far away enough from the party, you heard each other loud and clear.

"how long did you wait?" he mused as he fished in his pockets for keys.

"what?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

"how long did you wait to tell me?" he gave you a pointed look. you looked away and pursed your lips.

"you were having fun with your friends, and i really didn't want to cut it short..." you mumbled, your eyes stinging.

he opened your car door for you, leaning over the car as he watched you buckle your seatbelt. you stared up at him with glossy eyes and he softened, brushing his thumb over your cheek. the silence was welcomed as your eyes fluttered shut.

"don't be an idiot." he murmured. "just tell me the second you feel uncomfortable, 'kay?"

you leaned into his hands with a smile. "i will."

he smiled and shut your door, slipping into the driver's seat. he took your hand in his again, kissing your knuckles as he sped off.

TODOROKI

"now?" he cocked his head to the side. "are you not enjoying the party?"

your eyes squeezed shut as you shook your head, the movement alone making you feel dizzy.

"okay." he set his drink down. "okay, we can leave."

"thanks..." you followed him, unsure of his feelings at the moment. he opened your car door and closed it shut once you were inside, walking to the front of the car. you saw him out the windshield picking up a call, pacing slightly as he conversed.

you grew more nervous by the minute, wondering if you should've just grinned and gotten through it. he was having a good time catching up with his friends, after all.

finally, he sat in the driver's seat, sighing as he leaned back. you watched him with concern and a little bit of guilt.

"i'm sorry, i... we can go back if you want. really." you said.

he looked at you incredulously, his expression reading utter confusion. "but... i thought you weren't enjoying it?"

"well, i—" you stammered, collecting your thoughts. "you were having a great time with your friends and i should've thought of that before i asked to leave."

he shook his head and leaned towards you. "i'm just as tired as you are, darling." he smiled. "to be honest, i'm glad you asked to leave."

"who were you on call with?" you let curiosity get the better of you.

"midoriya, he was just concerned about you." he buckled his seatbelt and brought the car to life. he cast you a little smirk. "i'm afraid you're not very good at hiding your expressions, love."

your face heated as you turned back to face the windshield. he laughed softly, "it's alright. we both aren't."

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[silkjade-deactivated20250406]

STILL WITH HEARTS BEATING

alhaitham x reader ⤀ warnings: gn!reader, insecurity issues, fear of vulnerability, hurt/comfort, selfship coded a/n: a vent drabble, so everything is super self indulgent + based on me lol

“tell me atlas. what is heavier: the world or its people’s hearts?” — darshana suresh

although he prefers to keep his nose buried in a book, alhaitham is still as perceptive as ever, taking note of all the minuscule changes in your demeanor, even whilst you don a mask to stifle your woes.

he sees it first in the wistful sighs scattered amongst your too calm breaths, in your crafted smile, too practiced to be natural, and the strained words that fall too heavily out your lips, each in a race to prove that everything is normal and fine—that any anomalous behavior might only be the ramifications of an exhausting day.

your name rolls so naturally off his tongue, as he reaches out to you, catching your wrist before you can disappear into the bedroom and sleep away your swallowed emotions.

“are you alright?”

he asks out of courtesy, but to him, the signs are clear as day: the sharp inhale and slow exhale as you rally to fabricate another facade, chin tilted just a smidge too high as you turn to face him, dull eyes glistening with the remnants of unshed tears, forced to retreat by the winged flutter of your lashes.

to him, the signs are clear as day that you are not, that you are only putting on a brave face, something which he finds odd within the threshold of your shared home.

“just tired is all,” you reply, speaking in half truths. after all, it's exhausting trying to keep up appearances when all you wish to do, is to curl into yourself and rot into your bed.

you flash him a quick smile, small and devoid of warmth; a lame imposter to the very one he’s grown so terribly fond of.

he repeats your name, this time softer, brows knitted with equal parts skepticism and concern at your empty words. filled with even emptier spirit, he notes.

nonchalant, rehearsed, refined—and yet, he can hear the melancholia that spills into your tone. see the downward twitch of your lead-laden lips and the watery shift of your eyes as you avert your gaze in self-consciousness.

“you don’t have to hide from me,” he murmurs, and you want to believe him, want to believe that you’re brave enough to lay down your defenses, that you can trust him to hold your porcelain heart in his hands without threat of endangerment.

you open your mouth to speak, but not a sound comes out as the words turn to bile in your throat. to swallow the bitter liquid, or to spit your heart out and lay it bare for him to see. for alhaitham, who is more than just an akademiya giant, but a cornerstone of sumeru itself: brilliant and brave, kind in spite of his unconventional displays. the sun who shines by the heat of his own radiance.

his moon, he calls you. and yet the moon does not glow; the moon whose only light is a reflection of the sun.

you purse your lips, internally willing yourself to believe that these tears will not spill. it'd be egregious—like coughing up blood when you too have a reputation to uphold, a certain presence to be perceived. for even the moon, who shines by grace of borrowed light, is steadfast in its quiet elegance.

“it’s fine,” you insist, “really.” it’s heavy under the weight of your pride, but at least your heart is safe here in your chest, isolated and tucked away.

you push until he relents, relaxing his grip around your wrist. good, you think, he's given up. but then why does it so painfully squeeze your heart in a way you cannot convey—like a hair-lined fracture upon your brittle bones.

but alhaitham is no fool; he intends to prove he’d catch you before you can shatter, freeing your wrist, only so that he might pull you into his arms instead. there is no shortage to the vast infinity of words he can say, but matters of the heart have never been his forte… and so he hopes that his actions might speak more profoundly than his words.

the sudden impact blows your eyes wide with surprise, tears already threatening to spill from the solace of just his embrace. there are no sounds other than his steady heart and even breaths, no scent besides the faded woody fragrance of his cologne. it's safe here, cocooned in his arms, and you think that for a moment, perhaps everything is and will be fine.

you relax against him, basking in his warmth, as you rest into the crook of his neck, absentmindedly staring at the patterns on the floor.

“you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he whispers, “but please don’t hide from me.”

your hands, pressed flush against his chest, curl into themselves, relieved that he cannot see the tears welling in your eyes. he does, however, feel that first crystalline droplet that slides freely down your cheeks, melting into the fabric of his clothes as more follow. alhaitham runs his fingers through your hair, while his other hand hugs you by the small of your back, holding you ever closer. the occasional sob racks your body, silent and reluctant, but it’s a start.

a heart is a complex web of earnest emotions, floridly woven into secrets he cannot fault you for keeping locked away in a vault. perhaps one day, you’d rely on him, let him in to share the burden. and if he should be so lucky, perhaps you'd deem him worthy to be your home, so that you might rest with him, without armor. as for now, he’ll gladly cushion your fall, give you a soft place to land.

in the night’s dark embrace, the moon’s milky light paints patterns through the stained glass window of your bedroom, and behind you, your lover’s arms stay wrapped around your waist, holding you close beneath the blankets.

“… alhaitham?” your voice is delicate, spun from silk amidst the quiet of the night.

“hmm?” he peaks an eye open at the unfamiliar use of his full name.

“if I ask you something, do you promise to answer honestly?”

“I don’t see any reason not to.” The low vibrations of his tone tickles your skin as he replies with a kiss to your shoulder.

“am I…,” you hesitate, voice wavering as you contemplate whether words whispered into the wind might write itself into stone. “am i… enough for you?”

the seconds seem to stand still, as if all the world and even the sky itself, were holding its breath in bated anticipation.

finally, a creak cuts through the silence as the bed shifts alongside alhaitham, who now hovers over you, his body and arms trapping you in between. the intensity of his gaze prompts you to look away, but he reaches for your chin, holding you gently so that you have nowhere to look, save for his technicolored eyes.

enough for him? is that what you were upset about? what a shame, he thinks.

“If you could only see what I see,” he murmurs, with a kiss to your forehead. his moon, his stars, his entire night sky, who guides him in the dark.

“intelligent, intuitive, independent,” he murmurs, kissing along your jaw, and down your neck in between each word. “outspoken and fiercely strong. beautiful, capable of anything…”

alhaitham glances up, only satisfied once the insecurity is dispelled from your features, replaced by an absolute reassurance.

"… which I knew from the moment you made me fall completely in love with you."

he peppers your face with little kisses, and you can’t help but let out a soft laugh, almost embarrassed. “haitham…”

alhaitham pauses at your first genuine smile of the night. “I mean every word. you’re more than enough, just as you are. and no one can should be able to take that away from you, so…”

he rolls back into bed, pulling you with him as he goes, so that you might drift to sleep with your head rested atop his chest, listening to the steady tune of his heart, as it sings to you in your dreams.

a/n2: this was actually vry therapeutic but i did not intend for it to get this long, and so i m a bit embarrassed (don’t perceive) however if u have made it this far, as always, thank u for reading ♡

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[zhongrin]

festered wounds

— when you’ve never been the first choice your whole life, it’s hard to accept the possibility that you could be loved.

© zhongrin | 2023  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley

✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, this is more of a vent drabble, hurt with comfort, reader with massive insecurity issues, implied past trauma, slight blood & gore in the portrayal of ‘hurt’

✼ a/n ┈ this…. got really personal, haha. i wrote this in a bad headspace, so apologies if it got depressing or if it’s of a low quality. i didn't want to have this in my drafts and i certainly don't want to bring it to 2024 so i'm just posting this now.

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

“i’m sorry.”

zhongli’s heart dropped at the words escaping your lips. this was certainly the most unexpected response you could give to his confession, seeing the promising recent developments in your relationship — and so celestia forgive him, he had to pause to gather his thoughts. this made you fidget even more under his gaze, and so you succumbed to your frazzled nerves to continue in a more panicked voice.

“i’m sorry, mr. zhongli, i know you’re not the type to resort to deceit or find joy in toying with people’s feelings, but i’m just— i can’t—” you trailed off, feeling your chest tighten in pain.

“please, hold your tongue for a moment,” the refined man held out one of his hand to settle onto your shoulder comfortingly. his expression was a mixture of worry and confusion, eyebrows furrowing in a sign of distress. “are you saying that you… do not believe my words? you think i have malicious intentions?”

“….. i’m sorry, i’m just not used to- i’ve never-” you stumbled over your words and squeezed your eyes shut, “i’m sorry….”

zhongli watched you for a moment, observing the smallest ticks and the story behind your body language. you looked so vulnerable, like a scared animal instinctively cowering at some invisible threat. you looked as if someone had stripped away a bandage that had been haphazardly wrapped around a wound left unattended for so long, it had festered into an abomination, eating away at you slowly, even now.

belatedly, he realized that ‘someone’ was himself.

zhongli inhaled deeply, his palm leaving your shoulder. this time, he took his hands to tenderly grab your fingers, lifting them up to silently plead for your attention. your eyes were troubled and full of storms, the rain and lighting reflecting on your expression as a solemn flutter of your eyelashes and sorrowful downturn of your lips. the slight tremble of your body reflected the silent call for help from a blemished heart that never had the courage to forget.

“my dearest. i see the pain you have gone through. i have yet to know the tales that had marred your heart, but i want you to know that i am willing to be the pair of ears you tell your grievances to, and you can be rest assured that they will be safe with me. i know my words will not be enough to convince you otherwise at this moment… however, you must forgive my impatience, for it stems out of genuine love. i simply must humbly ask once again—”

“— please, give me a chance to heal you.”

“a-are you sure you want me?”

out of the 18 different responses he anticipated, al haitham did not expect this. however, his surprise merely manifested in the rising of both of his eyebrows and the subtle shift on his legs.

“unlike the consensus the public seemed to have one-sidedly agreed on, i am not foolish enough in the matter of romance as to confess to someone i do not hold deep affection and great care for,” he said in the same tone as the moment he asked if you would consider taking your relationship into the ‘officially dating’ phase, “is it not obvious? kaveh claimed i was ‘laying it on thick’ and cyno had noted of how i treat you better than how i treat the dendro archon.”

“oh….”

“….”

“….”

you thought you had gotten used to al haitham’s stare with how much you both had been hanging out, but right now you couldn’t seem to lift your head. the scholar crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your response. you were both gratuitous and dreading his resilience.

“i-i still think you could do better, though. i mean, look at you! you’re so fit, so wouldn’t you feel better if your partner is more of the sporty type? and you’re the top graduate of the haravatat darshan, so you would pair better with someone smarter…. a-and someone like me will just drag you down; aesthetically speaking, i… uh, leave much to be desired while you’re… you know…”

you spoke of such illogical assumptions and erroneous advices that he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. you spoke of belittling yourself as if you were used to riding on the rails of insurmountably low dip of the self-esteem cliff for years. you spoke of these things as if you were repeating words someone told you at least once in your life.

and it angered him.

but he wasn’t angry at you. he was angry for you.

funny how empathy wasn’t his strong suit, and yet he jumped on the bandwagon as easily as an otter taking off into the waters the moment it came to you and your emotions.

“i care not for such shallow qualifications when it comes to seeking a partner. your presence triggers the relevant hormones that make me feel relaxed and comfortable, and my mind spontaneously seek for your attention. it’s only logical that i seek for an arrangement that would ensure these pleasant things to happen and develop further.”

“you’re the best choice for a partner, simply because i wish to spend the rest of my life with you; and i think that's enough.”

“i don’t think i’m a good choice for you…”

wriothesley looked as if you had pinpointed his weak point in a boxing match and delivered a straight jab right onto it. his lips slacked open and his body froze as he tried to process your words, the meaning behind it, the—

he inhaled deeply and punched his own fist into his palm, stretching his jaw with a growl before a darker tone took over his voice.

“alright, who’s been talking shit? let me at them. it won’t be manslaughter if they don’t die, right?”

he watched as your nervously fiddling fingers stopped twisting around each other, your eyes widened in shock and alarm at his words. briefly, he praised himself inwardly for being able to switch your mood at the snap of his fingers. now if only he could do that, but instead of surprise-and-horror, it could turn into surprise-and-joy instead…

“what?! wait- no! no one said that, i ju—”

“then is your own head telling you that?”

“it’s—” you gulped, gaze slowly breaking away.

he sensed a secret kept safe under the heaviest chains and locks. pain that had nearly torn up that warm heart of yours, shoved into the furthest part of you in a desperate attempt to save yourself; to silence the damned screams and the river of curses that would have made you self-destruct. he saw the remains of the thousands of needles that had embedded itself deep inside your worn heart a long time ago, and yet still it beat and struggled to not bleed out and drown you in its venomous blood.

he saw a heart as scarred as his skin, and he understood.

“..… alright, sweetheart, listen up, and listen close.”

the man’s hands suddenly cradled your cheeks, his icy blue eyes penetrating your clouded gaze. his whole demeanor had shifted into gentle and loving, as if he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands. he resisted the urge to kiss you when you couldn’t help but lean onto his touch, instinctively seeking comfort.

he would do you better. he would give you the kind of love you’ve yet to experience. there were so much he wanted to say, but he chose to speak of the reassurance he thought you needed most at this moment.

“i say you’re the perfect choice for me. let me prove it to you.”

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈ @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat