smoolpotaeto

[smoolpotaeto]

Manager Crashout

Pairing: Saja Boys x Manager!Reader

Summary: Overwhelmed with the amount of work you had to do in addition to the boys' constant chaos? Total crashout

**Doesn't exactly follow the movie timeline

[smoolpotaeto] Main Masterlist

"Abby, stop taking pictures of yourself every 5 seconds and help out in here!"

"Stop flirting and get back to work, Romance!"

"Mystery! Come back here!"

"Can you please stop complaining and just follow my instructions, Baby."

"Jinu! Stop smirking and manage your members!"

It was a nonstop chaos in the Saja Boys' studio room as the five were practicing their dance— or well, supposed to be practicing their dance. The four won't even listen to you properly, and their leader didn't even think of lending a hand to discipline them. Jinu was just there, staring at the chaos and you shouting at all of them to get back on track.

The boys had a show they were supposed to be in tomorrow after their 'debut' weeks ago at a street where they had performed their hit song Soda Pop. And you, drawn in by their energy and their undeniable good looks, applied to be the newly founded boy band's manager. Seeing that the five needed someone human to do most of the work for them and act as a "front," they didn't think much of getting you.

So now we're here—

You, an overworked manager who handles their PR, scheduling, idol actvities, as well looking for producers, lyricists, and the likes for their next new song, all the while handling the chaos that the five ensues. It was pretty much an everyday occurrence— Abby's narcissism, Romance's flirting, Mystery suddenly disappearing when curiosity gets the best of him, Baby being a literally man-baby, and Jinu relishing in the chaos.

Normally, it would be fine. While it's only been a few weeks, you've grown quite attached to them. They were nice when they wanted to, and they took good care of you despite their annoying attitude.

However, things have been real hectic lately. You didn't expect how huge the boys would get in such a short amount of time, and now they're being requested left and right in a lot of shows. Naturally, that meant receiving and sending phone calls and emails continuously. Aside from that, it also meant managing the boys' everyday schedules. To say that you were tired is an understatement— you already felt like a walking corpse at this point.

"Guys, please," You groaned, pleading, "Just practice your damn song. You'll be in front of a lot of people tomorrow, and you can't mess up unless you want to get your image thrown off." Your words fell on deaf ears, the five continuing to do their own thing.

It's been like that for the past hour or two— you weren't even sure at this point. What you were sure of, however, was that your anger was steadily rising, and you didn't know how long you can keep it at bay.

Without warning, your phone rang. Displayed on the screen was the name of one of the producers of the show for tomorrow. "Ah fuck, I completely forgot..." With a sigh, you started walking out of the room to answer the call, but not without calling to the boys first. "You guys better be doing something productive when I get back."

...

The call took longer than expected. The producer really wanted everything noted down and clean down to the smallest detail, and that usually meant a lot of reassurance and planning. "Well, time to check to see how they're doing."

The boys are not in fact, doing something productive when you got back. Instead, Abby and Baby were now running around the studio, Mystery was sleeping, Romance is now laughing at Abby and Baby, and Jinu was scrolling on his phone...?— where did get that?

"Oi! Didn't I tell you to—"

You didn't even get to finish what you were saying when Abby crashed into one of the studio lights, toppling and destroying it rendering the light useless.

The studio went into complete silence, and you stood there stunned. Did they really just destroy one of the studio lights? One that you worked so hard on to secure at a good price? One that costed a bit too much compared to other expenses? One that has not even been there for at least a week?

"What. The. HELL?!"

The four turned their heads towards you, and Mystery who was sleeping was now awake. "Do you know how much that thing costs?! How much effort I put in to find you guys nice lights to use for the studio room? Do you have any idea how tiring it has been for the previous days?!"

Sensing that they were about to get in trouble, Jinu quickly stood up from his position and walked towards you, "Hey, (Y/N), I'm sure the two didn't mean to destroy the lights. How about we—" The demon quickly shut up by the intensity of your glare.

"And you!" You pointed at Jinu. "M-me?" "No, it's the wall behind you— of course you! Who else is there, huh?!" The boy gulped at your tone, "How many times have I told you to watch over them? To discipline them? Tell them to get back on track? Make sure that they don't cause any problem?"

You were on a rant at this point. All the anger and tiredness you were trying to keep bottled up for the past days had now come undone.

"Don't you see how much I've been working and handling for you guys? I can't even sleep properly at night knowing that everything has to be perfect so that you guys can keep charting and be on shows. All I ever asked from you guys was to listen to me— get back to practice, behave yourselves, act like fucking adults, but what do I get in return? Nothing! Not even a single thank you!"

Tears were now brimming on your eyes, and while you felt embarrassed from suddenly lashing out, you didn't care at this point. You were tired, and no amount of patience can keep up with this amount of work. "(Y/N)—"

"No. Don't get started right now.... You know what? I'm done. Fuck this. I'm leaving." Without missing a beat, you placed down your Manager ID and clipboard and all related things to being their manager.

Abby was the first to recover from the shock. There was no way you were actually leaving now right?

"(Y/N), hey, wait." With a scowl and tears on your face, you faced Abby. "What?" "I know we messed up, but you can't be serious about leaving us, right?"

With a scoff, you turned on your heel. "Yeah... goodluck with finding a manager that can stand all of you."

The boys stared at the door that you just left in. "We fucked up big time didn't we?" "Yep..."

[smoolpotaeto]

An Unsent Letter

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x Reader

Summary: Unsaid words to the brown-haired setter. Can be considered platonic or romantic.

[smoolpotaeto] Main Masterlist

Dear Oikawa, 

How are you doing? It’s been a while since we last talked after all... There’s a lot of things I want to say, a lot of things I want to talk about, and a lot of things I want to apologize for. 

I wanted to ask your friends how you’re doing, but I guess I don’t really know them. All I knew was that you were in the volleyball club. Though now that I think about it now, I never really knew much about you. 

We spent a lot of our time together outside your club activities and mine, and yet it feels like I still don't much about you. We kept our personal lives too personal, didn't we?

Ah... I'm rambling too much aren't I? Though that's not what this letter is for. Well, it's not as if you'll get to read it anyway.

First of all, I want to apologize to you. I'm sorry for all the wrong things I've done in our relationship. I've done quite a lot haven't I? Now that I think about it... You were the one who was pretty much pissed throughout it all. I'm sorry if I haven't you supported you that much in your games, I'm sorry if I haven't paid much attention to you, and I'm especially sorry if I wasn't able to give you what you expected. I want to do so much better for you. I want to make up for all of it.

Is there really no chance for everything to go back to the way it once was, Oikawa? I miss everything about the old us. I miss going to places with you, I miss the time where we invite each other to our games, I miss the time where we choose to stay up just to talk with each other, I miss the time where everything was still fine and filled with happiness.

Is it really the end for us now?

If I had the chance to turn back time, I would. I’d go back and redo everything, to tell and stop myself from breaking us. I’m sorry... Oikawa. And maybe for the last time, I love you.

Sincerely,

(Y/N)

[smoolpotaeto]

[smoolpotaeto] Main Masterlist

Heya! I just realized I've written a couple of fics— with the intention to make more!— so I decided to compile them all here for easier navigation.

An Unsent Letter

**Things written in here are really self indulgent and considered as a way to vent but in a fic format.

"From me to you— unsaid words that I can no longer tell you."

Atsumu Miya (Haikyuu)

Oikawa Tooru (Haikyuu)

KPOP Demon Hunters

Saja Boys

Manager Crashout

"Overwhelmed with the amount of work you had to do in addition to the boys' constant chaos? Total crashout"

Harry Potter Series

Cedric Diggory

Amortentia

"Just when you thought Cedric was there to annoy you again, you were proven wrong, and in the worst way you imagined. "

"Are you okay love?" - Coughing like crazy Headcanon (really cringe, I don't know why I haven't deleted this yet)

"A headcanon of just being in a coughing fit to see how Cedric will react-"

Genshin Impact

Perception | Jean x Lisa

"As Lisa was about to leave the HQ, she notices that the lights from Jean’s office is still on. Already knowing that the Acting Grand Master was about to overwork herself to death again, she decided to pay her a short visit."

[smoolpotaeto]

#. 매니저님, 감사합니다 ! PART 2

featuring 𝘀𝗮𝗷𝗮 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝘀 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

fluff. being the babysitter manager of five grown men who act like toddlers with microphones. it's fun being the team’s mvp, therapist, emergency contact, fashion consultant, personal chef, and part-time hostage.

CHECK OUT THE SERIES MASTERLIST

PRINCE CHARMING IS A JERK everyone is falling for jinu, and it's not even surprising. he is the charismatic leader, the golden boy, the idol with perfect visuals, vocals, and vibes.

yeah, prince charming, he is perfect. perfect at being the bane of your existence.

because behind that angelic smile is a certified jerk who’s been messing with you all week. and what does he decide to do now? he has the audacity to ask you, wait no, demand you to dance with the group. 

“let's welcome our amazing manager, (name)-ssi!”

oh, he’s evil. pure demonic evil. on national tv, during a variety show in front of actual cameras. as if your career hasn’t suffered enough.

first, it was your outfit. he looked you up and down and went, 

“really? you’re wearing that in the 21st century?”

excuse you, king of fashion from the joseon dynasty. who are you to judge? it’s not like he time-traveled from a palace to start critiquing your finds from a sale.

second, he kept putting your things out of reach. your phone? suddenly on the top shelf. your clipboard? behind the couch. your pencil? under his chair, on purpose. you swear he's testing your limits, or plotting your downfall.

then came the tripping. oh, you needed to walk across the room? not on his watch. his legs are everywhere, strategically stretched out like some runway trap. you tripped so many times you started checking for banana peels, ghosts, lasers. nope, just jinu, smirking like the devil.

but the fourth incident? that was the final straw, cherry on top, icing on the cake.

lunch time with the boys, as you sat down, thinking today would be normal. wrong. a food war broke out like it was a birthday party for feral children. you tried your best to restore peace, to be the mature one.

what did jinu do? used you as a human shield.

abby hurled a chunk of chocolate cake aimed at jinu’s face and…it landed squarely on yours. full facial coverage, no need for foundation or setting powder. you were cake, you became cake.

the room fell silent, dead silent and suddenly the temperature dropped drastically.

“uh-oh…” “uh-oh? i’ll show you uh-oh.”

scolding them so hard, they cleaned the room faster than soda pop climbed the charts. but not before you casually wiped a thick streak of icing off your cheek… and smeared it across jinu’s expensive jacket.

revenge is really best served sweet.

ABS, LIPSTICK AND YOUR SOUL so today it was just you and abby, because he had a solo photoshoot scheduled for a magazine. and since you’re technically his manager, also part-time stylist and personal chef, you had to tag along in case anything went wrong.

what actually went wrong was the photographer taking one look at you and deciding: 

"yes, her. she’s a star, i want her too."

the man went full runway visionary on the spot, saying things like “match made in heaven”, “too hot to handle”, “this is a renaissance in the modeling world”.

you blinked, abby blinked, and before you knew it, boom, he was unbuttoning his see through white shirt like he did every day.

he didn’t even hesitate. just popped it open, revealing his abs like a smooth criminal. the makeup artists, who you swear were too excited, rushed in to dust glitter on his stomach for more angelic effect. meanwhile, someone shoved you into a beautiful white dress that honestly made you feel like a fairy about to get tricked into marriage.

lights, camera, action!

the first pose was quite intimate. abby’s sitting on the floor, legs bent, slightly leaning back and you’re straddling one of his legs, sitting upright, facing him. your hand’s on his shoulder. it’s giving soft launch, but also someone help me, i didn’t sign up for this.

for pose two the photographer himself wanted you to wrap an arm around his neck. okay, sure. your other hand rests on his chest. he’s standing beside you now, arm around your waist like it belongs there.

then the final shot. one word: scandalous.

you lean in with a bright red lipstick, pressing a kiss to his cheek. abby’s standing shirtless, tie loosened, covered in lipstick marks you just left, like a walking crime scene. he’s smirking, you’re literally dying.

after the last shutter clicks, you finally exhale. it’s over. it’s finally over. you glance at abby, and—oh no.

he’s already looking at you. soft, playful, with daring eyes glowing just a little too golden under the lights.

you look away, cheeks heating up like someone turned the studio into a hot sauna. this was not on your job description, but if viral couple shoots boost popularity, so be it.

“do i… have something on my face?” “no, you’re just pretty.”

manager-nim.exe has stopped working. please restart the system.

and then, oh god no, he brushes his thumb over your lip, gentle, casual, almost like a husband to a bride on their honeymoon. your stomach does an olympic-level backflip. why is he like this? why are his eyes so shiny? why do you feel like you’re being hypnotized?

but just like that, everything goes back to normal.

“can you move, princess?” “abby, you’re the one who wrapped your hands around my waist.” “yeah, but i want to change now.”

spoiler alert: he does not change. he just wanted to see if you’d let go first, which you didn't.

PINK SWEATER HEART MOUNTAIN you have gone through every circle of hell at this point, and it’s only monday. just because you’re technically responsible for them doesn’t mean you’re responsible for everything. or so you told yourself, before you ended up in the middle of someone’s personal closet apocalypse.

how did you get here? good question, you want to know as well.

one moment you were helping sort outfits in romance’s room, like the helpful little assistant you are, and the next, you were buried alive under a landslide of pastel cardigans, suspiciously sparkly pants, and a very aggressive pink sweater with a heart knitted on the front.

you tried to fight for survival, you really did. you kicked, but flailed. screamed once and eventually accepted your fate. your body now belonged to the great pink void. you would be remembered only by the faint echo of your last sigh and the perfume cloud left behind.

what’s the point of living anyway? you were gone. this was it. this was how it ends. goodbye cruel world. goodbye daylight. goodbye life outside of knitwear. merging with the universe, consumed by fashion.

until, hallelujah, a light shone upon your face.

“angel? where did you go?”

a voice. a very sweet voice. could it be... heaven? have you become an angel already? yes, that must be it. the light was warm, comforting, like a divine flame. this was surely heaven’s gate, or maybe it was just romance standing above you like some celestial being sent by the coco chanel gods.

“oh, there you are! you really got yourself buried under sweater mountain, huh?”

he was grinning down at you, you blink at him slowly. is he real? is this a hallucination?

to test this, he leans down and pinches your cheeks. not hard, just soft enough to make you mildly regret ever helping him organize his closet.

then, he offered you a hand. you took it, obviously, because one, he was literally your only way out, and two, you’re not immune to how annoyingly pretty he is.

“i think you’ve suffered enough for one day.”

you mumble something, still spiritually disoriented, because after all, you just came back from the dead.

“we’re going out,” “is it a date?” “depends. are you paying?” “no?” “then yeah, it’s a date. my treat.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but he was already leading you toward the door like some prince rescuing a very confused damsel. you’re still not totally sure what’s happening, but you’re upright, and he’s holding your hand, and that’s a win in your book.

also, he smells really nice. like strawberries and vanilla. honestly, you might let the sweaters bury you again if it means he’ll save you like that.

GOSSIP, CUDDLES AND NAP TIME secretly, mystery was your favorite of the saja boys. not that you’d ever admit it out loud. but it’s just with him, you could finally have a moment of peace and quiet. no screaming, no cake aimed at your face, no wardrobe meltdowns, or someone trying to turn your life into a k-drama.

no abs, no jinu. especially no jinu.

“i swear, if jinu makes one more comment about my outfit, i’m going to wear a potato sack to the next shoot on purpose,”

pacing back and forth across the room like a lawyer waiting for the final verdict awarded to the criminals that are your boys.

“like, i'm sorry, not all of us wake up with perfect hair and tons of designer clothes.”

mystery is sitting quietly on the couch, half-focused on a random magazine that was on the small table, when he was about to say something supportive. maybe something wise, or one of his usual gentle one-liners—

“and don’t even get me started on abby! my lips are still tinted red from that photoshoot. my soul is sparkling from glitter clothes. i sneezed and it looked like a unicorn and a fairy vomited on me.”

he closes his mouth. okay, not the right time.

“romance buried me in sweaters this morning! i almost didn’t make it back alive…also i’m officially traumatized from the color pink.”

you keep pacing. mystery's not surprised, because you do this often when you're overwhelmed. but today’s energy is especially chaotic and exhausting.

finally, you collapse next to him with a dramatic sigh, like the weight of everyone's ridiculousness has finally drained you to the max.

“why are they like this? why am i like this? why are you not like this? actually, don’t answer that.”

mumbling, leaning back and looking at the ceiling like it holds answers to what causes your spiritual pain. the long haired boy just smiles a little, that soft, curve of his lip reassuring you that everything is okay.

you start talking again, softer now. still half-ranting, half-reflecting. something about shoes, cake fights, and jinu’s long legs. then, the words start to come out slowly from you, the energy dips. your voice fades into soft hums and sleepy murmurs. eventually, there’s nothing at all.

he glances down and sees your head gently resting on his shoulder.

oh, you’ve fallen asleep mid-rant again.

he shifts slightly, careful not to wake you, and reaches for the thin blanket draped over the side of the couch. he lays it over your body, tucking it just enough to keep you warm.

mystery leans back, magazine forgotten, letting you rest. peace and quiet, just the two of you. honestly, it’s kind of perfect.

“sleep well, (name)-ssi…”

THE TIKTOK INCIDENT messing around after hours in the practice room with the camera propped on a chair, shirt falling off your shoulder, no makeup, and doing the soda pop choreo like some broke university student who’s had 3 hours of sleep and 5 iced coffees. you weren't even trying to look good for the video, just wanted to test the lighting and have fun like a normal human being. it was meant to stay in your drafts.

except, someone got a hold of your phone because you accidentally left it unlocked.

you should’ve known something was up when baby was too quiet for too long and then started giggling in the corner like a gremlin. you didn’t think much of it until a few hours later when your phone blew up with notifications, mentions, edits, even fanpages. and a trending hashtag.

#SodaPop_Challenge

#SajaPrincess_Challenge

“you did what?” “oops~” “baby i'm going to—” “love and spoil me? I know.”

the video went viral with people starting to learn your version of the choreo. performing it with the boys on live stages as not part of the plans on your schedule. fans said you danced better than half the idols debuting this year.

but the maknae didn’t stop there. no, no. he dug deeper and went through all your drafts.

and there it was, one video that caught his eye. you in a fitted dress, heels, makeup, hair done. looking drop-dead stunning, like a princess.

he blinked, stared, panicked. who was this goddess and what did she do with his manager?

so naturally, he did what he does best: tell lies.

“jinu said you need to dress formally for an event tomorrow.” “why didn’t jinu tell me himself?” “he's busy. something about…non-functional soda pop from the vending machine” “okay…”

so imagine the chaos when you walk into the practice room in heels and a short dress, looking like you’re about to attend the met gala red carpet.

saja boys turned into frozen boys.

romance drops his water bottle, abby walks into a wall, jinu nearly chokes, mystery mutters under his breath, and baby is smug. mission accomplished.

“wait… why aren’t you dressed up?” “dress up for what?”

the anger you had inside you when you looked at baby and he immediately hid behind abby. he was very lucky that he was cute.

taglist: @seneon @y2kuromi @maruflix @napbatata

©2025 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[smoolpotaeto]

HFTDM Masterlist

Human Fangirl Turned Demon Manager (Masterlist)

synopsis: you’re a low-level paperwork clerk demon who somehow ended up hired (threatened) by a smug, too-pretty demon named Jinu to become the manager of the demon realm’s first-ever demon boy band. all because he accidentally found your boy band concept sketches.

it was getting kinda long so i thought i’d make a separate post with all the chapters.

teaser

one

two

three

four

five

six

seven

more chapters coming soon… (probably)

—

taglist has officially closed (as of july 2, 2025).

[smoolpotaeto]

Ms. Manager (No Dating Rule!)

Saja boys x Female! Reader

Summary: Other men really need to stop hitting on you or they're gonna lose their minds.

Warning: Saja boys, possessive! saja boys, jealousy, yandere behaviour, oblivious! reader, dumb! reader, crybaby? reader, death (not reader or the saja boys), grammatical errors probably and incorrect spellings, english is not my first language, probably more.

Author's note: The first part reached over 3,000+ notes in just two days (I don't know if that's a good thing or not) but thank you nonetheless! This happens before the first part. This is not proofread lol

Part 1

Coming into the Korean pop music business as a group's manager wasn't exactly what you planned that would happen to you, it wasn't the job you dreamed of but it paid rent and the boys you were looking after weren't that bad, they were extremely clingy and a tad over protective for someone they appointed as their manager for 6 months. It was unexpected but the 5 boys seemed nice enough that immediately made you accept their offer as their manager, their looks were just bonuses.

Apparently, being their manager also requires you to bring them food (Baby said so) and while they offered to come with you, you disagreed because you didn't want to disrupt their dance practice. They gave you their money, of course.

So that's why you were currently in the supermarket, pushing the trolley as you tried to remember what it was that the boys liked to eat. It seemed only Baby loved the hot sauce after getting a free taste on one of the few times they came with you to the shops.

"You can buy what you want with the money too, pretty." they said before you walked off, handing you a butt load of money that wouldn't be able to fit in your wallet.

And that's what you did, throwing your favourite food after food inside the trolley with a giddy smile before stopping to think what your boys liked.

A tap on the shoulder interrupted you from your thoughts making you turn around to see an admittedly handsome man who seemed about your age, ginger hair, brown eyes and fair skin. He's a foreigner, that much was obvious. You blink in surprise and confusion, "Uh, hello? something wrong, sir?" You asked, voice laced with its usual softness and trying to speak in english.

The male cleared his throat, "Uh.." he was momentarily distracted by your looks and cute voice. "Uhm, ye-yes... I-" He cleared his throat again.

You raised an eyebrow, 'Is he alright?' you thought.

"I think you're really pretty and... I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me..." He finally says, cheeks tinted pink. British.

Your eyes widened, feeling your own cheeks heat up at his words and accent. This is the first time in years since someone had asked you out, someone this handsome and has a british accent! That's practically the sexiest accent in the world, at least that's what your friend said to you.

"Oh! My name is Brandon, I'm not from here and I just... I thought you very pretty and I'm rambling.." He stammered out, face reddening even more. "I don't know, I just- I wanted to try and have a friend... it doesn't have to be a date-date, just a friendl-"

You don't have an understanding of the whole english language but you definitely got the gist of that.

You interrupted him with a kind smile, "I accept!" You exclaim, trying to hide your excitement.

Brandon smiled back, "h-here... my number, call me? I mean w-we can meet tomorrow for that date.." He said as he handed me a piece of paper with his number that he wrote before walking towards me.

You gave him a nod and a small wave as he walked away with a skip.

You opened the door to the boy's dance rehearsal, carrying three bags of food (the two bags were for you). The boys stopped their practice and immediately went to fight each other on who could help you, practically pushing each other away before Abby grabbed the bags from your hand with a charming smile, "I'll handle them for you, pretty." He said as the rest scoffed.

"Thank you!" I smiled, "So how's practice going?"

Jinu sighs at the question, moving to stand beside you. You could practically smell him with how sweaty he is, no- you could smell all of their musky smell. "It's fine," He huffs, trying to cover up the fact that it was not doing well at all with how much the rest of the guys stressed him out a lot.

"I did tell you I could hire a dance instructor for you guys," I hum, trying to ignore their scent.

Baby rolls his eyes, "Don't. I don't want other people in here." He mutters. I don't want you talking to anybody else, especially if it's a guy.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it," Romance reassures as he took the place on the other side of you. "Just watch us and look all beautiful for us... okay, Ms. Manager?" he adds with a flirty smile, placing a hand on your shoulder.

Mystery nods his head at what the heart shape haired male said.

I pout, "I just want to be useful, I am your manager after all..."

Abby chuckles, "you are useful, pretty girl. You're taking care of us right now, buying us all these food. You've been a good girl for us." He praised as Jinu hums in agreement.

Your cheeks heated up, they always seem to like mentioning everyday that you've been a good girl and it never stops to make your heart skip a beat.

Such a good girl, you like touching my muscles, don't you?

Thank you, pretty girl. I'm so proud of my good girl.

Don't stop doing that, it feels good... that's right, good girl.

The next day came by and you were giddy, all excited that the others couldn't help but notice it when you came by for another day of dance rehearsals.

Abby moved to flex his muscles, intentionally growing closer to you as the thin shirt made his abs more prominent. "What's got you all excited?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow as he looked down at your form.

"Well yesterday... a guy asked me out!" You exclaimed, "He was sooo handsome and he has this british accent that it just made my heart melt!" You place a hand on your chest for good measure.

The others stopped whatever it is they were doing to look at you, an unreadable expression plastered on their faces before Jinu gave you a small smile which was obviously fake but you didn't notice, practically buzzing with excitement.

"Is that so? I'm happy for you!" He says as he gave you a pat on the shoulder.

"We're actually going at this restaurant in town tonight and I'm gonna be wearing the prettiest dress," You giggle as Mystery grits his teeth in annoyance, trying to stop himself from barking angrily at whoever's taking you out.

They can't believe you had the nerve to just go on dates with some nobody, you were their manager so that practically means you're theirs. So that pretty dress you own is reserved for their eyes only. Who cares if that guy has an accent? They know they're much better than whatever nobody you found on the streets.

The day rolls by, the Saja boys couldn't focus on whatever dance routine they had to do because they have one goal in mind;

getting rid of the bastard who had the audacity to steal their pretty girl.

It was easy trying to find the guy you were going on a date with because you told them his description and where you were meeting, oblivious to their plans. They know you wouldn't accuse them of doing something because you were dumb like that and they love it.

Jinu was dressed as a waiter that they ganged up on to steal his clothes and his soul while the rest waited outside in a dark alleyway. You were still at your apartment, getting all dolled up for this ugly nobody who could never compare to their majestic beauty.

How did you ever find this piece of shit handsome?

The raven haired male plastered on a fake smile as he approached Brandon who looked nervous and sweaty, Jinu was glad he came here extra early. "Hello, sir. I just wanted to inform you that a pretty, young lady is waiting for you outside." he said in perfect english as the ginger male looked up at him in surprise before nodding his head to stand up, following after him.

Brandon looked confused as he was led to a dark and secluded place, he looks around. "Uh, where-" he turns to face Jinu and lets out a gasp, seeing 5 pairs of glowing eyes- yellow embers with orange slits that are razor-thin- glaring down at him from the shadows.

The brit lets out a nervous chuckle, stepping back. "I-is this a joke, mate? It's not really funny..." He mutters before his back felt the dirty and cold stone wall.

"You really thought you could take her... from me? from us?" one of them growls as they moved closer to him.

"Don't bother screaming for help, no one's here but us." another whispers tauntingly before they all simultaneously pounced at the male who let out a scream with other people none the wiser.

"I- I got stood up..." You whimper, having just gone to the restaurant and waited for hours for the guy but he never game. "I waited for him but he didn't come..."

You were in their house, practically dashing over to them in tears. They bit back the smile as you melted into a puddle in Jinu's arms who coo-ed and rubbed your back gently as you cried.

"A-and I was all dressed up too... h-he's such a jerk!" You sobbed, hiding your pretty face in his chest.

"It's gonna be okay, [Your name]" Abby moves towards you, fingers moving to take your chin, tilting your head to look at him so that they could see your pretty face even with the make up running down due to your tears.

Romance gave you a smile, "Besides, you've got us. You don't need some other guy to go on a date with, we're here for you." He said softly. "Oh look, you're ruining your make up now... but don't worry, you're still the prettiest girl in the world."

Mystery nods, "And... being on some date with a nobody would only deter you from your job as our manager... who's gonna take care of us now if you're gonna go off going on a date.." he mumbled, trying to act all upset.

You sniffle, "y-you're right... I- I'm suppose to be your manager... you guys are my priority." you mumbled as you wipe your tears away but the crying never stopped.

They all smirked, unknown to you. That's right. They are your priority and no one else.

"So you better not be getting into some dates again," Baby reprimands with an annoyed huff.

Because you're ours, pretty girl.

[smoolpotaeto]

Ms. Manager

Saja boys x Fem! Reader

Summary: The Saja boys can't help but be enamored by their dumb and pretty manager.

Warning: Possessive! Saja boys, tw.death (not reader or any of the saja boys), dumb! reader, oblivious! reader, crybaby? Reader, a bit suggestive I guess?, might be incorrect grammar and spellings, probably more.

Author's note: Bear in mind that this is my first post here on tumblr, pretty new to this because I usually post my stories on Wattpad. I could write how they met or another part of this but I need some ideas, only if you end up liking this one though. I practically wrote this on a whim. I did not proofread this lol

No Dating Rule!

[Last name] [Your name], a name most popular uttered by many people, a name who could turn many heads at the direction with just at a simple mutter, a name that could break a cold person's exterior, and lastly, a name that could easily steal the hearts of the upcoming Korean boy group the Saja boys.

The Saja boys were currently at their own dance rehearsals because they can't exactly steal fans if they don't look great, sing great and dance great, would they?

Jinu lets out an exasperated sigh as he stared at the group of demons, glaring daggers at the other four demons who just can't get the dance right. "We're meant to jump in sinc at this part." He said, crossing his arms as Baby Saja rolls his eyes from behind Abby, thinking their leader wouldn't be able to see. "Why you!-" the dark haired male was about to stomp over when the door opened.

The five males immediately straightened their postures at the sight of her.

[Your name].

Their very own manager.

Standing there with a bright smile plastered on your pretty face as you held the lyrics of their song Soda pop in hand given to you by Jinu.

"Ms. Manager, good to see you." Abby gives out a little wave, shirt riding up to show a bit of his skin and toned body. "You're late. Again."

It wasn't a secret to the five of them that you were admittedly... not that great of a manager, even though they don't have much experience of how a manager actually acts but they just don't want to get rid of you. Not when you looked at them so prettily that they can't help but want more of you, definitely not when you smelled so sweet that they just want to get closer to you just to smell you, and definitely not when you touch them as if they were made of glass (and they weren't, but to them, you clearly are).

Before they met you, you were in need of a job and well... you had a very unforgettable first meeting with them that they just have to keep you to themselves.

"I'm sorry, the landlord upped the expense of the rent." You said, giving them an apologetic look as you handed them each a plastic bottle of cold water. "And he wouldn't exactly leave me alone..." You added, unbeknown of the eyes glowing yellow at the mention of the bastard who wouldn't leave you alone when you turned around to fix the papers.

Romance hums, stepping closer to you. "We did offer that you could stay with us," He voiced, placing a hand on your waist.

You look up at the male who stared down at you, a dreamy look on his face as he tried his hardest not to brush his hand on your soft-looking cheek. "Like I said, there aren't exactly many rooms in the house you reside in that could let me stay there." You pointed out.

It was true, the house they stayed in or more likely, stolen from people before they got their souls, only had five bedrooms, fitting for the five of them.

The heart shaped haired male had his eyes trail over to your plump lips and before he could quip something else, he was suddenly bumped to the side by their muscular member who couldn't help but replace the hand on your waist with his own, pulling you closer to his bigger frame. "Just stay with us." He whispers, voice deep.

You can't help but feel your heart racing at his words but put some distance by leaning back, "Abby, that's not very nice. You just hurt Romance." You frowned as you turn to the other male who immediately changed his glare pointed to Abby to a happy smile as he saw you turn to him.

"He's a big boy, he can handle a little bump." Abby rolls his eyes as Baby snickers.

Before you could tell him to apologize, Jinu walks over to you. "They're right, you know. You wouldn't have to deal with your landlord if you just stayed with us, I can just give you my room and sleep on the living room." He offers, hoping he could change your mind and stay with them instead.

"It's fine, guys really. Thanks for the offer but I really can't, you already appointed me as your manager even when I don't have much experience..." You murmured before feeling Abby's hand on your waist tighten. "It's just some old guy anyway, it's not that big of a deal." You try to reassure, lips turned up in the pretty smile that softened their exteriors.

"Do you want me to take care of him for you?" Everyone turned to Mystery who uttered those words, the rest grumbled, clearly wanting to be the one to say that to you.

You look confused by what he meant but shook your head, "No, it's alright, you don't have to."

"I'd do anything for you," The male mumble as he watched you refuse their offers some more, clearly not having heard what he mumbled.

Baby slumps into your back making you let out a cute little yelp at the added weight, "You can just sleep with me." He said, lips brushing over the back of your neck causing you to shiver.

The others immediately disproved of that.

They watched as their little Ms. Manager gave them a wave goodbye before walking off towards the bus stop.

It was silent for a bit before Baby saja finally says, "We're getting rid of him, right?"

The next day, you slammed the door open, breathing shakily as the Saja boys turned to you in concern. You were trying to catch your breath, practically running here to inform them of the news that had been delivered to you by a fellow neighbour.

"You alright, pretty girl?" Romance was the first to ask as Jinu stopped the music.

Their concern was a facade of course. They know what you were gonna say, practically smelled your scent miles away as you moved to get to them. They held back smirks of their own as they stared down at your form.

"H-he... the landlord- he's dead," You said, eyes wide and clearly still in shock. "One of my neighbours saw dismembered bodies and- oh gosh... it sounded so frightening."

The whimpers you let out highened their growing arousal as they stared at you, eyes darkening as they fought the urge to take you right then and there.

"Wh-what if that happens to me-" You were tearing up now.

Oh, those tears. Those beautiful tears.

Baby licks his lower lip at the sight, the desire to lick them with his tongue growing. He can't help but wonder what you tasted.

Jinu walks up to you immediately, in faux concern, placing a hand on you shoulder to comfort you. "We're very sad to here that..." He said with a frown and furrowed his eyebrows. "But you shouldn't worry about that happening to you, Ms. Manager."

You look up at him and the dark haired male praised himself for not pouncing on you at the sight. Sniffling, you asked. "Wh-what?"

He gave you a small yet reassuring smile, "If you stay with us, you'd never get hurt by that awful killer on the loose."

"We'll be sad without our pretty little manager to tend to our needs..." Abby adds on.

"We need you, I need you." Mystery whispers.

Your body was shaking, overwhelmed by everything that's happening.

However, if this little thing didn't change your mind yet... then they'd just have to take you, with or without your consent. You're theirs after all.

You were just their pretty, dumb manager and they'd eliminate anyone who would stand in the way of their love.

[smoolpotaeto]

fr tho why is everything smut😭😭 i wanna read angst that would ruin me, make me sick to my stomach and cry like there's no tomorrow bro i want a fanfic that is so devastating that i won't be able to function for the next few months

[smoolpotaeto]

MIRAGE MASTERLIST

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 5.1

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Coming soon

[smoolpotaeto]

See Frieren x Himmel is canonically doomed and that's part of the overall narrative, Frieren will outlive almost everyone she ever meets but she slowly starts to build more and more relationships in spite of that and Himmel was one of the biggest catalysts in her changing in this way

But they also have this "this is how it can still win" vibe to it because Frieren is literally traveling to the afterlife specifically to visit Himmel, and along the way she's changing and very slowly embracing love in all these different forms from the people around her, one of which was from Himmel

So it's doomed but it still feels like they'll definitely have a happy ending too, it's an interesting dynamic

[smoolpotaeto]

Sousou no Frieren Hanakotoba Analysis

┏ · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ┓

-> 1) Blue-Moon Weed [蒼月草│Sō gessō]

The Blue-Moon Weed (Sō gesso │ 蒼月草) is a blue, fictitious flower in the universe of Sousou no Frieren endemic to Himmel's hometown. The flower can be described as having blue anthers, yellow filaments as well as five petals that range from deeper blue at the tips to lighter blue in the centre. Although the Blue-Moon Weed is fictional, it appears to be inspired by real-life plants—namely Baby Blue Eyes and the Asiatic Daylily.

During episode 2, Frieren cleans a statue of Himmel the hero, afterwards a local herbalist proposes planting some flowers around the statue to brighten the area. This causes Frieren to recall how Himmel once told her his favourite flowers were Blue-Moon Weeds. This motivates her to search for these flowers over the next six months, despite these plants not being sighted for decades. After much frustration on Fern's part, the two eventually discover a small meadow of Blue-Moon Weed flowers atop an abandoned watchtower. This allows Frieren to use her spell to decorate the area around the statue with these flowers.  During this incident, we learn that Frieren’s penchant for collecting odd spells partly stems from Himmel expressing his appreciation for them—particularly the flower bed-making spell which is currently her favourite. Although Frieren couldn’t grant Himmel’s desire to show her Blue-Moon Weed flowers before his death, she was still somewhat able to fulfil this desire by finding the flowers and planting them around his statue as a tribute. Her willingness to devote half a year towards finding the flower showcases her remarkable dedication and nuanced sentimentality.

-> 1,2) Baby Blue Eyes (Nemophila sp.)

The most apparent inspiration for the Blue-Moon Weed is likely Baby Blue Eyes (Nemophila sp.). Although the leaves of the Blue-Moon Weed have an elongated shape, the shape and method of attachment differ from those of Nemophila—the shape and colour of the flowers are very similar to Nemophila. Baby Blue Eyes flowers are known as Rurikarakusa (ルリカラクサ) in Japan. In hanakotoba, Nemophila symbolises success everywhere, daintiness and forgiveness. In Western floriography, they represent victory, tenderness, sensitivity, harmony and trust. These symbolic connotations are closely linked with Himmel’s personality and accomplishments. Nemophila also represent the transient nature of beauty and life, encouraging us to treasure every moment and appreciate simplicity—which is a core theme in the series and is a lesson that Frieren is slowly learning throughout her journey.

The scientific name for Baby Blue Eyes, Nemophila, is derived from Greek and roughly translates to "loves small woodlands". This is derived from Nemophila's tendency to grow around the margins of woodlands. In a way, this is reminiscent of Himmel and Frieren's first encounter in the forest when the former became lost. After pointing him in the right direction, Frieren casts the flower bed-making spell leaving a lasting impact on Himmel. Specifically, it is hinted that Himmel sought Frieren out to be the party's magician since that event was the first time he perceived magic as being beautiful.

-> 1,2) Asiatic Dayflower (Commelina communis)

Another possible inspiration for the Blue-Moon Weed is the Asiatic Dayflower (Commelina communis). In Japan, this plant is known as tsuyukusa (露草) meaning "dew grass“. However, in ancient times it was called tsukikusa (月草) meaning “moon grass” which is similar to the name of Blue-Moon Weed. Although the two plants both possess blue-coloured flowers and similar leaf shapes; how the leaves attach to the stem differs, as does the shape of the flowers. In hanakotoba, the Asiatic Dayflower symbolises nostalgic relationships, secret love, transience and changes of heart in love. In Western floriography, they symbolise harmony, growth, prosperity and abundance. These symbolic associations—particularly those of nostalgic relationships, growth and changes of the heart in love—resonate heavily with Frieren’s relationship with Himmel. While the flower’s symbolism of secret love and transience resonates with Himmel’s feelings towards Frieren.

-> 2) Mirrored Lotus [鏡蓮華│Kagami renge]

The Mirror Lotus (Kagami renge │鏡蓮華) is a fictitious flower in the universe of Sousou no Frieren. However, its name suggests it is based on a real lotus (Nelumbo nucifera). Furthermore, the shape of the flower on Fern's bracelet is quite similar to that of a real lotus, which lends credence to this notion. In episode 14, it is noted that the silver bracelet Stark bought Fern for her birthday features a Mirror Lotus design. As Frieren studies the bracelet, she realises it has the same design as a ring she received from Himmel in the past. Sein then reveals that the Mirror Lotus symbolises eternal love.

Although Fern, Stark, and Frieren were unaware of the flower's symbolism, Himmel's interest in flowers suggests he recognised the meaning behind the ring he bought for Frieren—despite her assumption otherwise. As Frieren recalls receiving the ring, we see that after she selected it randomly Himmel was struck into silence and stared at it with a pensive expression. He then knelt before Frieren and placed it on the fourth finger of her left hand. This event, resembling a marriage proposal, reinforces the impression that he understood the significance of the flower. Furthermore, Himmel never married anyone else, alluding to the fact that Himmel must have pledged his eternal affection to Frieren through this ring. The significance of Himmel gifting Frieren a ring that symbolises "eternal love," as well as the multiple sculptures he had constructed around the world serve as a reminder of his existence. They serve as proof that his love for her transcends time and continues to accompany her on her journey.

Although Fern’s bracelet Fern and Frieren’s ring both have a mirrored lotus motif, the designs of the flowers differ in shape. The mirror lotus flower on Frieren’s ring is in bud state while the flower Fern's bracelet is in full bloom. This distinction references the difference between the two pairs’ relationships. While it is inferred that Himmel knew about the flower’s meaning, Frieren wasn't aware and only discovered it after his death. Himmel's romantic feelings for Frieren are still unknown to her, corresponding to the flower's bud shape on the ring, as their relationship remains frozen, unable to fully blossom due to the distance between them caused by their differing lifespans and Frieren's unintentional obliviousness. However, Fern and Stark discover the flower's significance together almost immediately after buying the bracelet. Although Fern, like Stark, was unaware of the mirror lotus' symbolism when she accepted the bracelet, she continued to wear it after learning about it and was enraged by Stark's proposal that she replace it with another design. If Fern hadn't had any romantic feelings for Stark, she would have been reluctant to wear the bracelet after this revelation. This, in conjunction with the flower's full bloom design on her bracelet, suggests that the pair will become mutually conscious of each other's romantic feelings and eventually end up together.

-> 2,1) Sacred lotus (Nelumbo nucifera)

In Japan, lotuses are called ren (蓮) or hasu (はす) and symbolise eloquence, sacredness, detached love as well as a pure heart in hanakotoba. Its symbolism of a pure heart is derived from how the lotus blooms into a noble and pure flower despite rising from muddy water. This symbolic connotation resonates with Himmel’s character, particularly his remarkable accomplishments despite his humble background. Lotuses are also globally associated with purity, rebirth, transformation and enlightenment. The lotus’s symbolic representation of enlightenment and transformation resonates with Frieren’s journey to learn and understand humans better to alleviate her regret of not getting to know Himmel better. In Asia, two lotus flowers blossoming from a single stem represent a desire for harmony and a shared heart. While in Western floriography, lotuses represent grace and estranged love. This sharp contrast between the lotus’ romantic symbolism in Asia and the West correlates with the difference in dynamic between the series’ main two pairings and their narrative conclusions. Additionally, despite Himmel’s feelings remaining unknown to Frieren, due to her leaving after their 10-year journey (i.e. estranged love), she shows a desire to understand him (i.e. a desire for a shared heart) after his death.

┗ · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ┛

╰➤ Other anime & donghua hanakotoba posts

[A/N: It'll probably be a while until I make another one of these posts—but if anyone has any requests feel free to send them. Also, lmk what other kinds of posts I should do in the meantime? Lastly, if you liked this post, check out my other hanakotoba analysis posts✿]

[smoolpotaeto]

Me when the doomed relationship is doomed:

[smoolpotaeto]

— CAN'T WE BE SEVENTEEN? ; shoto todoroki ; 焦凍

summary: he's loved you since he was seventeen. pairing: f!reader x pro hero!shoto ; reader was a 1-A student tags: mutual pining, heavy make-out, thinly veiled sugar daddy shoto, reader does not go pro, touya might be a dick but he's a hero now, shoto is bad at feelings wordcount: 5.6k a/n: i do not fucking know what came over me, enjoy your food my little todorokinas. yes the title is what you think it is. no i will not elaborate.

You never did go pro.

Truthfully, you thought there would be more pushback when, in your senior year, you announced your plan to pursue a degree in early childhood education with a focus on non-conforming quirk development. 

The War changed a lot. It changed you, your classmates, and the world. But, through it all one thing stuck with you:

What if someone helped Tenko Shimura?

How different would his life have been? How different would history have spun? 

You graduated at the top of your class and joined the faculty at Chiba Prefectural Preparatory School for Quirk Specialties two years ago. 

Chiba Prep was opened eight years ago in response to a societal cry for more infrastructure around what was dubbed "non-conforming quirks": a nice way to say quirks that can injure, maim, or kill. Maybe even all three on a bad day. Some parents still see their child being labeled as a non-conforming quirk user in the national database as akin to social suicide. 

You see it differently.

Your quirk allows you to manipulate emotions — anger, sadness, betrayal, love, hatred. If you can feel it, you can sink it into another's psyche deep enough to drive them to act. You can even imbue things with feelings. For example, a cup of warm milk can transform into more than just a simple comfort, now it can hold the feeling of home and safety, or even exhaustion strong enough to put even the biggest foe to rest. 

You could easily use your quirk with nefarious intent. 

You could steep hatred in someone's bone so deep it drives them to harm themselves. You could sew fury so solid into someone's mind it drives them to violence. 

Just a touch and you can control others with something so intrinsically personal it only exists within themselves: their feelings.

What makes you any different from little Asuke, a shy little girl with a quirk that allows her to see people's greatest fears, and then manifest and control them? You're convinced she can use this for good, if only with practice. In your mind, her future is bright and glimmering. Perhaps she will become a therapist, focusing on exposure therapy? Or, maybe the most prolific horror novelist in their time? 

Or, bright and sunny Tao — a transplant whose parents sought out Chiba Prep's specialized education — whose heteromorphic quirk makes his bodily fluids, namely saliva, eat through nearly anything but his own biologics. A sneeze is quickly the most dangerous thing in the world for the cheery, lizard-bodied class clown. 

He's just a boy given a quirk that needs more care. 

He isn't a villain-in-training. 

None of them are.

It's important to teach them that young — and as their teacher for Year 3 of their elementary schooling, you aim to hammer that in as much as possible. They deserve to feel normal. To feel loved and supported. They aren't scary, they're children. 

So, you take it upon yourself to insist on pushing for privileges like field trips. There aren't many public spaces that welcome the classes of Chiba Prep with open arms. Over the years, there have been plenty of incidents. But, a day trip into the city to visit Tokyo's Hall of Heroes is green-lit with bubbling excitement from both faculty, the children, and their parents. 

You usually keep your history as a graduated member of Class 1-A quiet. 

After all, you never did go pro.

And even still, Shoto Todoroki never stopped thinking about you.

He remembers that weekend everyone moved back in for their last year before graduation. He remembers you smiling at him, and helping him drag up a duffel of luggage from the common room to his dorm. You made a joke about how you're sure he got taller over the summer, and how his hair is longer now. You said you liked it. 

It was the beginning of the end, then.

His crush was a silent, smothering thing. It made it hard to think. Shoto had enough on his plate thanks to Touya's acceptance into the Villain Rehabilitation Program and his father's insistence on staving off retirement. Not to mention his parent's divorce — no matter how amicable, it was still a separation. Add on training, tests, studying, finals, and j-term classes... And a desperate, writhing, burning crush on the nicest girl in class? 

Touya's elbow digs into Shoto's side.

It drags him back to reality — to the stifled quiet of the historical Hall of Heroes. 

Suddenly, the doors to the wing squeak open, and a tour guide ushers in the elementary school class. The buzzing excitement and wonder are visible on each of their faces as the attendant — one of the HoH's lead tour guides — excitedly explains the newest, in-progress addition to the Hall:

Endeavor's wing. 

There's a whisper of awe that ripples through the children as their teacher and co-teacher follow, and as the class moves through the large, open space. They're staring up eagerly at the gilded statue in the center of the room. It's larger than life and intimidating. Years ago, Shoto might have had to fight the odd tremble in his knees at the reminder it brings: to be small in his father's shadow again. But, things are different now. 

Very different.

Touya scoffs. "I thought this wing wasn't open to the public yet."

"They're just children," Shoto hums, turning his back on the gaggle across the way to inspect the large mural winding along the back end of the installation, "I'm sure it's—"

"Oh, ho, no way!"

Shoto quirks his brow at his brother's outburst. His elbow digs into Shoto's ribs again. 

"Ain't that the pretty girl you never got the balls to ask out your senior year?" comes the rasped drawl of his older brother's voice. Touya is clearly amused, his white hair hanging in his eyes as he leans forward to squint, "She is cute, Sho'—"

"Shut up," Shoto grits, turning his head over his shoulder; he tries to bite back the flurry of nerves that ignite in his gut, "Stop talking."

It is you.

You look... good. 

Happy. 

You're crouched by a small, timid girl in the back of the crowd. Your hand is in hers, and you're pointing upwards at the large paneled screens replaying Endeavor's most historic fights. You're explaining something to her, your knees bent as you squat. You look... the same. As if in the six years since they graduated, you sat still in time. 

For a second, it's like he's seventeen again.

It's his senior year, and he's stuck at the corner of the gym's edge with a half-empty glass of punch in his hand. The lights are low, and there's slow music playing. His tie feels too tight. Bakugo keeps telling him to 'ask her to dance already', and Kirishima is considering bashing his head through the wall. Even Midorya is trying to persuade Shoto. 

"It's prom, man! C'mon, this could be your last chance—"

Touya is about to be a real pain in the ass — his favorite pastime — and make some comment about your ass, but when he turns to lob the one-liner at his baby brother, Shoto's gone.

Shoto is on the move.

The crescendo of gasps draws your attention first.

Then, the cry of "WOAH, IT'S SHOTO!" leaves you dumbfounded. The rippling murmur of excitement bleeds into the children as their eyes — and the eyes of the tour guide — widen at the sight of the approaching Pro Hero. 

Shoto Todoroki.

He looks... good. 

Really good.

He's a bit older, and a bit more filled out than when you were both teenagers. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders — it's a distant echo of his father's physique, though Shoto is so much more elegant and much... prettier. He's always been.

For a second, you're seventeen again.

It's your senior year, and you're sprawled across Momo Yaoyorozu's bed.

They had finally wrangled out of you who your crush was: something they hadn't been able to do in all their years as classmates.

There's a sticky, Miss Midnight-themed face mask clinging to your expression as you try to flip through the large magazine in your hands as nonchalantly as possible. Mina's voice, as she paints Ochaco's nails a bright pink on the floor, is sweet and saccharine as she looks up at you.

"I think you and Shoto would be, like, the cutest couple ever." 

You're still crouched when the tour guide nervously — like she was caught doing something naughty — introduces The Pro Hero Shoto to the already-aware crowd of elementary school students and their teachers. It's like igniting a match; the uproar of excitement leaves you laughing as three of your boys push forward to bombard him with questions about his quirk. 

Asuke is smiling shyly, now. That's a small win. She's intrigued by the appearance of a real hero, not the "scary statues" — and her big, fat tears stopped rolling the moment you laid a gentle hand on her to quell her anxiety over the new environment with a push of comfort through your quirk. She unhooks her pinkie finger from yours as you guide her towards your co-teacher. 

"Boys," you call with a crisp air of authority as you stand and lead Asuke toward the bulk of the field trip group, "What have we learned about personal space?"

"It's fine, really, Insight," comes Shoto's voice; as warm and placid as you remember. 

"Insight?" mutters your co-teacher at the presumed hero-name; a look of confusion plasters itself on her face, and her big, feline ears perk up. She leans in to whisper in a way that borders on conspiratory, "Do you two know one another?"

"Old classmates," you confirm, not daring to get into the finer details.

Shoto's attention is entirely rooted in the way you manage the kids. There's something beautiful about the ease with which you handle the bouquet of students; you quell the excitement into a manageable decibel like it's as easy as breathing. 

"Shoto," you start as you gesture to him, "Has a very special quirk — Toyamai, he has ice like you. And, fire like Tojiro. He can regulate his temperature. Can anyone tell me what that means?"

There's a wave of hands shooting up, a few me, me, me's rise from the gaggle. 

You're using him as a teaching moment.

Shoto's smile is soft.

You nod at Ogomi, excitedly nodding as the reserved child speaks up. Normally, he hates public speaking. But, recently, he's started working with the speech pathologist during lunch. The boy bounces a little as he answers. "He doesn't g-get too hot, or too c-cold."

"Exactly! Isn't that cool?" you grin at the lazy attempt at a pun, "This is why it's important to learn about our quirks as much as we can!"

Touya thinks this whole thing is just too cute. 

You're different than he remembers — but, granted, things were sorta different last time he saw you. He was a little too busy tryna kill his old man and lil' Shoto. He's different now, too. A changed man! A real licensed hero. Support items and all. 

He hangs back. 

He... I mean, he is a jack-ass but he isn't gonna ruin this for Shoto. 

...It's kinda cute.

Just about as cute as Fuyumi said it was. 

Apparently, Shoto had opened up to her and Natsuo about his feelings after graduation — about how he regretted not doing anything about it. Fuyumi then told their mum, who then off-handedly mentioned it to Touya... and well Touya dug in because, duh, he is a whore for good gossip. He might be the family's black sheep, but Shoto is the glue that binds. 

And he deserves to be happy.

Your co-teacher is ushering the kids to the next installation — a viewing of All Might's Legacy, a new documentary following the retired pro's teaching career. It will be a good wind down for them, in comfy seats and the dark. It's hardly the sort of content an elementary school student would find riveting, but it is All Might. And they love him.

You hang back. 

Shoto's heart is hammering in his chest.

"Hey."

"Hi," you greet back, closing the door to the theater and stepping forward as you weave your arms around you, "Long time no see."

"Yea," Shoto breathes, his hands in his pockets as he meets you halfway across the museum's marble floors, "I... I see you're teaching."

His eyes are as pretty as they were back then. Slate grey and piercing turquoise. "I'm in my second year," you confirm softly, fiddling with the material of your sweater, "Congrats to your old man."

You gesture up at the statue, then wave around to the rest of the installation.

Shoto inhales, then nods; he's staring at your face, blissfully realizing you're just the way you were all those years ago. Kind. "I'll pass it along."

"How's he handling it?" you ask, your eyes raking across his expression and trying not to stick to the sharp slope of his jaw, or the bob of his Adam's apple, "Retirement, I mean."

"He's happy, I think. Touya and I are working together and... things are...  good."

Last month, Endeavor finally retired. He cited his age, and his dedication to passing his legacy to his two sons: Shoto and Touya. Shoto has planted himself firmly within the Top Ten in the last year or so, and shockingly, Touya isn't far behind. People love an underdog's redemption story, you suppose. 

And the underdog in question can read a room. 

This is getting a little too sexually tense for even him.

"Heeeeey, girl," he rasps out, staggering backward with a thumb over his shoulder, "Nice t' see ya. I'll let you two catch up, yea? I'm gonna go pop my head into the theater, see how the kids are handling the snooze fest on screen—"

You jump.

How long has he even been there?

"Hi, D— Touya," you strain, wincing a little; the rehab'd villain doesn't seem to mind.

"Hi, teach'. That cool with you?" he asks, wobbling his thumb and quirking a pierced eyebrow; it's comical, like he's trying to disarm you with humor, "Don't want you thinkin' I'm corrupting your youths—"

"It's fine," you breathe, ignoring the sting of age-old mistrust. You know better. Shoto wouldn't be here, with him, if Touya Todoroki hadn't changed. Endeavor wouldn't be entrusting his legacy to the ex-League of Villain member if he didn't believe in his capacity for good, "Just don't be disruptive."

Casting judgment on someone whose life was nearly destroyed by his own non-conforming quirk would go against everything you taught the kids anyway.

"Touya's whole thing is being disruptive," Shoto grits as his oldest brother slips silently through the doors, "I apologize for him—"

"No," you wave him off, laughing a little, "Don't. It's... nice to see you two together."

Shoto's expression is soft as he wanders a little closer. "It took time — and a lot of therapy — but we've all managed to come out the other side."

"That's great to hear, Shoto," you breathe, your eyes flitting across his face, "I'm really happy for you."

There's a long silence, then — and you can't help but ignore the roil of butterflies in your stomach. The eye contact is heavy with some unspoken thing, and both of your tongues are weighted by secrets-never-turned-confessions. 

It's like finally this dance you've been doing around one another for years breaks — and the two of you throw caution to the wind at the exact same moment. 

"Would you like to—"

"Are you free—"

Hesitant, slow grins bloom on both your faces.

"Dinner?" is all he manages after a sweet moment of soaking up your soft smile, "If you're available...?"

You make yourself available.

Yaoyorozu almost dies when you call her that night — winded from tearing through your entire wardrobe. You explained you had nothing to wear a-and you needed something nice, and you only have an hour to get ready, because Todoroki — yes, stop screaming, Todoroki — is picking you up at 8pm.

Little bro is nervous. Touya can tell. 

From his spot on the sofa, the white-haired ex-degenerate scoffs. Natsuo is digging around for some cufflinks in Shoto's dresser.

"Seriously, Sho'? A suit?" 

"It's a nice restaurant," his brother says tightly, adjusting the collar of the black button-down, "I booked the upstairs dining room for privacy." 

"Who the hell told you t' do that?" Touya quirks a skeptical brow.

"Father was the one who suggested it."

"...That old dog." 

Natsuo rolls his eyes at the exchange before throwing his hands as he emerges from the closet. "Do you have any links that aren't emblazoned with U.A. High School's crest?"

The ones in Natsuo's hands have his graduation year on them.

Shoto winces.

"Want me to ask dear ol' dog of a dad?" Touya snarks from the corner, his posture becoming less and less upright as he scrolls on his phone.

"Already did," comes the soft voice of Fuyumi; she's smiling, padding into Shoto's room with a velvet box, "He offered up his nicest pair. He also says not to screw it up with Insight. He likes her."

Of course, he likes her. You worked under Endeavor for a brief work-study period during your third year. Shoto remembers hearing grumbled praise over dinner one night about your talent for de-escalation.

"You told him who I was seeing?" Shoto asks incredulously, taking the box and working the cufflinks on. He's starting to feel exasperated.

Fuyumi nods, popping down beside Touya. 

"He asked. I'm not gonna lie to him."

"Did y' tell ma?" Touya rasps, peeking up over his phone to inspect Shoto's outfit. Not half bad, honestly. He looks good in all black. A man after his own heart, "M'sure she's gonna be real excited—"

"Yes," Shoto grumbles, "I called her earlier—"

"Chiba Prep is a really good school, y'know," Natsuo buts in as he tries to find a tie that matches Shoto's outfit. Ultimately, though, the middle brother decides against it and tosses the options over his shoulder, "They're, like, on the leading edge for quirk therapies."

"Hey, nerd? Quiet down. The big kids are gossiping," Touya shirks, turning back to Shoto, "What did mum say?" 

"She wants me to call her after—"

"One, you're gonna call mum the morning after," Touya raises a finger, "Because if you don't get laid, I'll be so fuckin' disap—"

Fuyumi slaps Touya's chest. He lets out a pained yelp at the solid smack.

"Uh, ow," he rubs his sternum. "An' two, take a deep breath. You look like you're gonna shit yourself. Those are my pants and they're expensive."

Shoto lets out a long breath. 

Fuyumi's smile is sweet like honey. "Aw, Sho'! It's gonna go great. You two have known each other for such a long time, and catching up is going to be amazing. Just be yourself! Confident and kind—"

"—Hold the door open for her, and pull her chair out," Natsuo adds as he adjusts Shoto's collar for him, "Car door, too—"

It's Touya's turn. He's dead serious. "—And do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night. I swear to god."

Easier said than done.

You never did go pro.

Those years of hardened battle instincts have lost their edge. You try to remind yourself this is just Shoto, not The Shoto — but you're a little lost in the whole celebrity of it all when he picks you up in a very nice, sporty little car with ENDVRplates. 

You answer the door and he forgets how to breathe.

He has flowers for you. They're blue and blooming and beautiful. 

Fuyumi's contribution. 

You settled then you were going to kiss him at the end of the night.

The restaurant is... nice. Really nice. The sort of nice you could never aspire to experience on your teacher's salary. Even the valet is a concept that has your head spinning. But, Shoto handles it all with cool ease. The entire time, his hand is settled on your lower back. 

It feels like you've been lit on fire.

You're glad Momo was able to create a dress fitting for the occasion. It's sleek and black. Comfortable, too. Not much can be said for your heels on that front, but it's fine. 

Somehow, Shoto managed to book the entire upper floor of this place in all its glimmering glory — it's just the two of you alone in a sea of tables. 

The waiter is pouring you a glass of the chef's suggested pairing of sake.

You thank him, smile, and take a sip as Shoto unbuttons his suit jacket and watches you. 

For a second, you're seventeen again.

Sero and Kirishima were always in cahoots when it came to parties back then — somehow, between the two of them, they always managed to smuggle enough booze onto campus to obliterate any semblance of promised sobriety from even the most stoic members of 1-A. 

You remember one night, after a lot of hounding, you finally gave in and joined a few of your classmates on the back lawn for a few drinks. 

A few beers turned into a cup or two of wine, and then another big gulp of whatever deranged jungle juice concoction Kaminiari managed to cook up. It tasted terrible, but you were too drunk to really care. Shoto was no better. He was nursing his fourth drink of the night — a rarity he was even drinking at all — and seemed completely fine with the way your arms brushed as the two of you sat close in the grass. 

He was always so nervous around you. Now, he just seemed... happy. 

"I can't believe there is only one week left until graduation."

Graduation day was the last time you saw him. 

Until this morning, that is. 

You smile into your drink. 

"What?" you ask when his eyes never leave your face.

His fingers twitch towards his own glass. Shoto blinks, then rolls his jaw. He was caught staring. He clears his throat, looking a bit shy. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" you press playfully, cocking your head to the side.

"You..." he starts, then bawks. You're stunning, and it's making it hard to even think straight. He thought these feelings might have mellowed out over the years but seeing you again has just reignited everything. He feels like a hormonal teenager again, "You look beautiful."

Your expression falters into something lovesick. You chew your lip. "You're not so bad yourself, Todoroki."

He manages a half-smile. "Touya had me worried the suit was a bit much."

The idea of Touya offering him advice on his outfit strikes a chord in your heart. It makes you smile even bigger than before. "Well, you can tell Touya that I like it. A lot."

You rake your eyes up and down him. On purpose.

He notices.

Shoto's face feels hot. 

He tries to shake the bone-deep want that has swept his entire body up in its grip, but it's difficult when every single word out of your mouth reminds him just how in love he was with you back in school. You explain, excitedly, why you chose to teach at Chiba Prefectural Prep and catch him up on where you've been living since graduating. He's pleased to learn you're still in the area, living in the city, and decidedly in love with the commute to the school. 

Shoto's always been a good listener — but you can see how much he's changed when he begins to speak about his career. He seems so much more sure of himself than he was all those years ago. It wasn't that he was... unsure... but, no. He was shy. Quiet.

Now, less so. 

It's adorable. 

Dinner comes and goes with conversation over sushi that is far too good for you to even process. It's easy talking to him. It was easy talking to Shoto back, then, too but... Things are different. You're both different. Not in a bad way, but in a way that feels like coming home. 

While you both wait outside for the valet, Shoto shrugs his jacket off and puts it over your shoulders without a single word. Suddenly, you're cradled in a warmth that's very Shoto — his cologne clings to the collar and you bury yourself a little deeper into it. 

Shyly, you step closer and steal his hand. It's calloused and warm. He laced his fingers with yours as if practiced. You bite back a grin. You give his hand a little squeeze when you spot the car coming around the corner.

His silence is calming — and he squeezes your hand back. When you look up at him, you realize he's already looking at you. 

His face is close. It's so... intimate. Very. Nearly better than a kiss. 

But, you've wanted to kiss Shoto Todoroki since you were seventeen. 

The valet driver interrupts the moment with a respectful call of Shoto's name and offers the keys with a shake of the hand. With a little bit of hesitancy, Shoto remembers the thing Natsuo said — the car door, too — and moves around the passenger side to open the door for you. 

It's sweet.

Really sweet. 

The car ride back to your apartment is punctuated with easy conversation — you ask him about Bakugo and Midorya, and you're pleased to hear they're both doing well. He asks about Momo, and if you still keep in touch with Mina and Ochaco. He smiles to himself when you admit you did call Momo for help with an outfit. 

"She did a beautiful job," Shoto breathes, a palm moving from the gear shift to brush over the dress' fabric on your thigh.

His hand settles there. 

Your stomach does a flip. 

You chew your lip, swallow down a sudden burst of nerves, and let your hand rest over his. You squeeze it. Shoto tries to focus on the road. His gaze drifts for a moment at a red light, his heterochromatic eyes dancing across your figure. 

Keep it together. 

He isn't seventeen.

He's twenty-five. He's a Professional Hero. One of the Top Ten in all of Japan. He's more than capable of keeping it together in the face of physical touch from the woman he's dreamed about for years. 

...Right?

Green light.

His hand is still on your thigh when he pulls up to your apartment. 

The touch is relinquished in favor of putting the sports car in park. 

It makes your chest ache.

Shoto swallows thickly.

Do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night.

He'll never forgive himself. But, admittedly, he's bad at this. He's not good at reading body language, or even knowing himself enough to realize he looks mildly terrified as you blink up at him in the passenger's seat. His heart is hammering a mile a minute.

What if you don't want to kiss him?

When would he even kiss you? Now? Or at the door?

Why does he feel like he's going to die?

"This was really... Shoto, are you okay?" you ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt; you pause, your brows knitting tightly. 

"What?" he asks, blinking back to the present moment. The look of fear disappears, "Sorry. Yes. I'm fine."

You're working his jacket off your shoulders, gently leaning to fold it neatly in your lap. Your voice dips low, into something playful. "You didn't look fine..."

"I—" Shoto clamps his mouth shut as he leans an elbow on the center console, "Sorry. I suppose I'm just nervous."

"Nervous?" you grin, a little giggle punctuating your words as you wriggle in the red, leather seat, "Why?"

Your expression makes his expression crack. He ducks his head as he huffs out a laugh. You continue to egg him on via expression alone. "I... Stop it."

"Stop what?" you push some more, your back pressed to the door as you face him in the car, "You're the one being weird—"

"I'm not being weird—"

"Then what's wrong, Shoto?" you tease in a sing-song voice.

"I'm nervous because I want to kiss you."

His words are punctuated by a slow look that takes in every inch of your face. Butterfly wings kiss your stomach walls. And your knees. You feel a little tremble in your chest. 

It feels like someone has sucker punched you square in the sternum. Shoto's no better. He isn't entirely sure what the expression on your face means. Is that... good? Are you happy?

Your voice is a little quieter now. You duck your head and fiddle with his suit jacket as you lean back against the seat, a little closer now. 

"You don't need to be."

Shoto's breath catches at that.

So, he makes his move.

His hand comes first — his calloused palm settles nicely against your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as his pointer finger brushes the underside of your jaw. Shoto is slow. Methodical. It's like he's trying to ground himself in the moment. 

Truth be told, he thinks he might be blacking out.

Your eyes flit up his wrist — a dark leather band around his wrist with an expensive watch face, a dark dress shirt with glimmering cufflinks, strong arms and a broad chest, and you can see the dip of his collarbone where the top two buttons of his shirt remain undone. 

He looks so damn handsome with his sharp jaw, pretty eyes, and his trademark white and crimson hair. Even his scar is beautiful. 

The touch pulls you in like he's got his own personal orbit.  

Your elbows are braced along the center console, your eyes flicking across his face as his fingers continue to brush along the soft expanse of your cheek. You wring your fingers together. 

Then, his eyes stick to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers, his breath fanning across your face. 

You never did go pro.

But, Shoto did. 

It shows. 

Because, at this moment, all you can do is nod feebly before you're swept into the sort of kiss people go to war for. It's the sort of kiss that sticks to your ribs, that feels like warm, fresh food. It's the sort of kiss that would drive you to the brink, that would make you nod and agree sure, let's get married and have three kids, let's name one after your father, and paint the house blue like your mother's favorite flower—

His mouth is eager, but not in an overbearing way. It's gentle. Slow. As if he needs to remind himself this is real and not some midnight fiction that leaves him aching and alone. Shoto reminds himself to be tepid, pliable, and easy, which is easier said than done when somewhere deep inside of him there's a seventeen-year-old screaming in victory. 

It's better than anything he could have ever imagined. 

And then you whimper. 

It's a sound tied between bliss and relief and it's muttered against his mouth as you lean in and let your fingers brush the fabric of his dress shirt. The tips of your fingers brush his abdomen and he flexes, the feeling foreign and warm. It warrants his other hand to drift to your face and you break for a breath; he doesn't care that there's lipstick smeared across his mouth. He's kissing you again — this time a little bit more feverish, a little bit more aching. 

You melt against him, this time your hands trembling to grip his wrists.

He needs to slow down.

He is not having sex with you in his father's car.

That's shameless.

He needs to slow down.

He has to, or he'll lose himself in this and he refuses to fuck this up. 

Shoto's breath is ragged when he finally peels himself away, his lip parted and eyes half-lidded. His grip on your face is still so soft, so gentle. It's very him. 

You're glad you didn't do this when you were seventeen.

It would have permanently altered your brain chemistry, you're sure of it. How could you ever kiss someone else again after that? 

He's rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You swallow, and try to level out your breathing. It's hard when he's still so close, when he's so... perfect. 

"I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against your cheek, "Since our last year at Yuei."

A well-kissed smile breaks across your face. You reel back, your nose wrinkling as you shake your head in disbelief. Shoto is smiling. A real smile. The sort that's so rare you can count on one hand the amount of times you've ever seen it in person. 

"Are you serious?"

"Very," he says, chastely pressing another to your other cheek as he leans back.

"Me too," you admit shyly, "Can we... do it again sometime?"

Shoto's eyes widen incrementally. Then, his smile eases back onto his face. 

"Are you free this weekend?"

"I can be," you reply easily with a honeyed look, "And I will be. For you."

"I get off patrol on Saturday around seven," he explains before asking timidly, "We could... do dinner again?"

"Works for me," you breathe as you move for the handle of the car door, "After all, I never went Pro. Weekends are free."

Shoto scoffs. 

Then, as you open the door and swing a leg out:

"Oh, and tell Touya I thought the suit sexy."

Shoto's laugh is dry. You leave his jacket on the seat and scurry into your apartment with a lovesick wave. He swears he sees the silhouette of a familiar ponytail greet you at the door, but he doesn't dwell on it. He waits until you're inside and the lights to the front door are shut off.

Then it hits him. He has another date with you this weekend. 

Not so seventeen anymore, Shoto Todoroki. 

[smoolpotaeto]

What if Soshiro's girlfriend was nice to Weapon 10 because it saved his life and instead of being flustered 10 also start liking her and now Soshiro feels like he has to share his gf with the suit!!

A small continuation to 'Suit Anomaly', based from this ask! (Click here for Part 3)

Author's Reply: Hi, Anon! This sounds adorable! His gf's semi rude attitude towards No. 10 was because of the injuries Soshiro got from their fight, but she's not a totally cold person so I can see this happening! I shall do my best ♡

Requests and messages are welcome on my ask box! I can also write for Narumi and Mina (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

Just a few weeks after the nationwide cataclysm orchestrated by Kaiju No. 9, you once again found yourself standing in the very same training facility right after a small kaiju attack from the previous day. This time, you’re equipped with your own numbers weapon just in case it goes haywire after all the damage it sustained.

“How does it feel?” you ask him.

“Still as uncomfortable as ever,” he said. “Can’t say this thing’s more tame now, it’s as battle hungry as always; but it kinda listens to me and has a l’il bit of common sense now.”

You snort, hearing No. 10 roar an “Are you saying I’m stupid?!” at him.

Knowing him, Soshiro just refuses to tell the truth: He’s grown comfortable wearing his numbered suit, despite the strain it deals on his body. It’s particularly crazy how he’s able to wear it and fight using it again just after a few days of being discharged from the medbay—any normal officer wouldn’t be able to walk after that destructive fight.

"Hmm… You both did well in yesterday's fight," you started, followed with a sigh, "But you didn't need to go all-out at all. They were just small fry!"

Soshiro comically scratched his head, "No offense sweetie, but I think you're just upset you didn't get to kill one yesterday. This guy wanted to wipe 'em all out for ya. Some kind of thanks for actively watchin' over the suit's repair."

"I didn't say anything like that!" it complained.

Soshiro crossed his arms and complained, "Ya keep dragging me to her area! Told ya she's as strong as we are, but you kept screaming at me saying somethin' like 'Oi, Hoshina! Ain't you gonna protect your little foul mouthed girlfriend?!'"

"Stop lying! I just wanted to get a higher kill count; you're being too lousy in battle!"

'Ah… compatibility aside, the arguments aren't stopping soon.' you thought.

You cleared your throat, getting their attention back to you. "If that's the case, then I extend my deepest gratitude to you both—but you don't have to worry about me!"

Proceeding to closely inspect the suit, you went down on one knee and thoroughly observed its tail, which had been severed during their fight with Kaiju no. 12. You started caressing it, seemingly deep in thought.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! I told you I'm not a pet!"

Soshiro just quietly observed the scene, curious at your actions.

Going to stand in front of Soshiro again, you bent your upper body forward to meet the Kaiju's eye.

For the first time since he's donned this suit, you gave it a sincere smile. "I give you my deepest thanks for protecting Soshiro. You did well."

Silence.

After a minute of solid silence, the tail started aggressively swaying around and a frantic scream from Okonogi caught yours and Soshiro's attention.

"Vice Captain! Platoon Leader! I advise you to end the monitoring session—the suit's rapidly overheating for no reason!"

Eh?

Soshiro started pulling the tail, trying to get it to behave. "You cyclops! Keep still! My girlfriend's not flirtin' with ya, not with a Kaiju!"

"Cyclops?! I'm not even doing anything, bowlcut bastard!"

As you laugh at the entertainment in front of you, the Kaiju detection alarm goes off.

"Let's go. Make sure you let me kill some today, alright?" you said, mood heightened.

That being said…

In the midst of the battle, it took Soshiro a great deal of strength just to stop the Kaiju suit from rushing towards your aid.

The both of them started arguing again after the fight, as Soshiro saw how its tail was subtly waving when you approached them, as if asking to be caressed again.

"Ya don't get to ask my girlfriend to touch yer tail! I'm not sharin' her with you!"

"I didn't ask her anything! And would you look at that, she's already touching it!"

With a pout akin to that of a child getting their lollipop stolen, Soshiro said, "Dear, ya don't have to do that! I'm right here!"

You giggled, wanting to tease him a bit. "And I can see you well enough, 'Shiro. You'll get your kisses later, yeah?"

He groaned, continuing their seemingly never-ending argument.

Oh, you can get used to this.

[smoolpotaeto]

Suit Anomaly. (Oneshot)

hoshina soshiro x reader — 919 words. established relationship, kissing, making out, mentioned 'she' pronouns for reader.

Just a small break from my ongoing Narumi fic, which is linked on my pinned post! Please do check it out too 🫶

Click here for part 2! Cross-posted on Ao3.

Requests, prompts, or any messages are appreciated! Just open my ask box.

A staring contest in the middle of the highly confidential training facility has apparently been going on for a couple of minutes. You maintained a good distance between Soshiro and yourself, just enough to bend your upper body forward and stare into the eyes of Kaiju no.10 in his suit. (The Kaiju, in fact, refuses to open its eyes).

"Can this guy see anything?" you asked.

Eh? This guy?

Soshiro can't believe you just addressed the Kaiju in his suit as just some guy. What were you even doing? Testing the No. 10 suit wasn't on his schedule today, but you managed to pester Okonogi into "checking it out for anomalies" because of how bad they performed in yesterday's target training.

It was Okonogi who answered you from above, "Yes. Because its consciousness is fully retained, you can still think of it as a Kaiju, albeit taking the form of a Defense Force suit."

"Why's it ignoring me then? Soshiro, is this like a pet of yours? Maybe you need to tame it, you're good at that anyways." you said, now standing upright, still staring at the eye hole of the suit. "Your performance was still shit yesterday, Kaiju No. 10."

Finally, it opened its eye. "I'm not this bowlcut's pet!" it growled at you.

"So you do have an eye. You can do better at target practice, yeah? Your tail is aggressively wagging, by the way." you said, your stare turning cold now that it decided to open its eyes.

Soshiro clapped his hands once, a sign that you both need to stop arguing. Scratching the back of his head, he whined your name. "It's supposed to be my off-day from training, ya know? What was the anomaly check ya said yesterday?"

You sighed, a hand in one hip. You walked closer, ignoring the panicked warning of Okonogi that you're entering dangerous territory. Soshiro was uncharacteristically taken by surprise when you hooked a hand behind his neck and comfortably placed your other hand on his chest, pulling him closer.

Before you can even do anything, you hear the suit's tail wave around more aggressively than before, almost destroying the floor behind Soshiro. "... So that's what's up." you said, still retaining the quite intimate position you both are in.

"Fine! FINE!! You got me, can the both of you stop doing that every damn time?! You humans are so weird!" the Kaiju wailed.

And it closed its eye again.

Confused, Soshiro placed both his hands on either side of your waist. "Dear, what's goin' on?"

"I'm afraid we shouldn't work together on the field if you're using that suit."

He frowned, "But nothin' else tops our teamwork. Are ya worried this suit will kill you?"

You feel laughter threatening to spill from your lips. 'How adorable. For a hella smart guy, he's so clueless this time; they really refuse to read each other's mind, don't they?' you thought.

You cleared your throat to control yourself, explaining the anomaly you discovered. "Dear, the Kaiju is flustered."

He's so dumbfounded right now.

"This Kaiju? Flustered?" Is that even possible? "From what?" he asked.

Suddenly finding the entire situation funny, your attitude from earlier drastically changed. "Allow me to elaborate, then!" you said, humor visible from your eyes.

"Its tail wagging aggressively and eye closing during your target exercises whenever I'm around—because you kiss me so much, it can't stand seeing me without remembering it!" you laughed.

You hear Kaiju No. 10 grumble a complain, sounding something like what a "needy bastard" Soshiro is.

Ah. "Well buddy, ya gotta learn how to cope with it. She's my partner on-field and off-field. Ya can stand my blades, but not a kiss?" Soshiro said, slightly amused at the situation.

Its tail got aggressive again. "Shut up! You're basically devouring her mouth! Do humans really need to hold each other closely while doing it?! I'm your suit—I can feel your body heat up from it, you bastard!" it spouted.

You raise your eyebrow at him. "Oh?"

Okonogi took this as a sign to temporarily leave the room, sighing at how silly this entire thing is.

"Well, m'dear, the Kaiju didn't lie." he teasingly said, grinning as he pulled you even closer and cupping your face in one hand. "How 'bout we give it a sample right now? It needs time getting used to us, don'tcha agree?"

Before you were even able to reply, he dipped and kissed your lips fully.

You let out a surprised sound, feeling him angling his lips better as his tongue prodded access to your mouth. 'Such intensity for a sample,' you thought. Your hand subtly pulled on his hair, the both of you moaning as your tongues danced with each other.

He reluctantly pulled away as he felt you pat his chest, a silent plea for air.

"How are ya feeling?"

"Beyond amazing. Might need more later."

You jumped at the voice that boomed from the suit, "You bastards done? I may be able to close my eye, but I can hear everything!! You're both the most disgusting humans ever!"

Soshiro huffed, "Quit whinin', you're such a drama queen. Get used to it, it's part of yer training."

"Ahem." You both hear a voice from above.

Ah, it's the Captain. Did Okonogi fetch her?

"Don'tcha worry Captain Ashiro, we're wrapping up already." he said.

Soshiro and you made your way back to the control room, announcing that the anomaly has been "taken care of".

[smoolpotaeto]

surprise hoshina fic from oyohs, jealous hoshina soshiro, and some random getting too handsy with u + stupid humor

“Is it just me… or has the Vice Captain been so mean recently?”

Kafka pants, hunched over, wobbling back and forth. He struggles to form words for a good minute. “It’s not—” his face turns green, “—it’s not just you! Dammit!”

“Don’t throw up, senpai,” Reno says worriedly, however more exasperated than actually sympathetic.

“Did something bad happen?” Furuhashi wonders aloud, watching as Kafka slaps a hand over his mouth. “We shouldn’t be taking the blame, you know.”

Kikoru grins, laughing primly. “Haven’t you noticed? The only recent event is the new guy.”

They all turn to Kafka, who’s heaving on the ground.

Kikoru then scowls. “No, you idiots. The new kid who’s been all over Y/N-san! The cadet!”

Oh. Right. That’s a thing now.

“If you have time to chit-chat,” a voice calls out above them, startling every soul in the field. Hoshina’s eyes are open yet narrowed, “then you have time for more laps, don’t you?”

They know they can’t win when it comes to Hoshina—or even Captain Ashiro, honestly. Either way, they’d end up running laps; and if you understand that, you would lessen the punishment. They settle on a: “Yes, sir!”

Reno follows along with his colleagues yet can’t help but glance back to their Vice Captain, who’s scowling at nothing in particular. He’s been making that face a lot lately.

Hmm.

Reno turns away. Maybe Kikoru was onto something.

There’s a newly recruited cadet named Kou, their Vice Captain Hoshina, and you: a recipe for disaster and, frankly, an inconvenience for everyone else. None of them would’ve cared, honestly, if they didn’t end up dragged into whatever nonsense Kou fucking pulled. Whenever Kou finds his way to you, it could either end in everyone doing two hundred laps or two hundred push-ups—neither is really favorable.

“You’re incredible, Y/N-san!” Kou beams, inching closer and closer despite your obvious panic. “How did you get from 20% to 32% in less than a week? 

“T-Thank you, Kou, but really—”

“You’ve got to teach me!”

You yelp when he leans in too far, and you end up falling back. You lose balance, arms flailing aimlessly, but fortunately for you (and unfortunately for everyone else), Kou latches an arm around your waist to steady you. You don’t want to thank him because it’s his fault. But you smile and laugh sheepishly to not dishearten the kid.

Everyone within the vicinity jolts and looks away. Hoshina’s footsteps are loud and heavy in the terrified silence of the room.

“If you have time to flirt,” Hoshina says, glaring at you both, “then you don’t have time to take this seriously, do you?”

You frown. Why were you getting blamed, too? Damn.

You move to apologize but end up biting back your words at Hoshina’s silent and deadly stare aimed at Kou. And much to your (and everyone else’s) horror, Kou mirrors his expression as if forgetting that he’s nothing but an ant compared to their fucking Vice-Captain!

“Sorry, Captain. I didn’t expect you to be watching Y/N-san so closely compared to everyone else,” Kou says, and oh, he has a death wish for sure.

Hoshina’s brow twitches. His eye catches your wide ones for a moment before loosening his posture and deciding to just walk past. “You should know your place, kid. I’m lookin’ out for ya. Attachments are a hindrance in our field of work; listen to your Vice-Captain.”

“Smooth save,” you hear someone whisper, promptly shushed by everyone.

You watch as Hoshina doesn’t bother glancing back. His shoulders are tense, and his knuckled grip is so tight that his fist is growing pale. You feel worried. You don’t want to doubt your Vice-Captain, but even this feels out of control for him.

You whirl around and jab a finger at Kou. “What was that for?! Are you insane? He’s going to drill us to death now!”

Kou shrugs. “He won’t if you beg nicely.”

“What the hell was that!?” Kafka hisses under his breath. “I thought the Vice-Captain would actually kill him! I thought I was going to witness the murder of a human!”

Reno appears thoughtful. “So it’s got everything to do with Y/N-san.”

Kafka scoffs. “I figured. Kou’s a real piece of work, but he’s right. Vice-Cap played nicer before Kou started instigating him using Y/N as a shield.”

“I think it’s more like… making him jealous,” Reno says.

“What? Really? Wait—does Vice-cap like Y/N?!”

“It’s rude to speculate about your higher-ups. Do you want him to make you do a hundred more push-ups?”

Kafka and Reno pale.

“C-Captain!” they squeak out, spinning around to face her.

Ashiro wears a ghost of a smile on her face. “You may be right. You figured it out faster than Hoshina himself.”

They both blush because Captain Ashiro is smiling, until they realize what she’s just said. Their horror-stricken gazes swing back and forth between you and a ticked-off Hoshina, and, oh god, it makes so much more sense.

Kou crosses a line this time. You’re positive he’s just using you to antagonize Vice-Captain Hoshina for some reason. You wanted to tell him that you wanted no part in their dick-measuring contest until Kou pulled you out of view while everyone was busy chattering and eating dinner.

You sigh. “What is it this time?”

Kou smiles. “I want to confess to you.”

“You—uh whuh—huh?”

“I’m sorry if I unconventionally went about this—” You think!? “—but I do genuinely like you, Y/N-san.”

You blink once, then thrice. “What? Wait, really?”

Kou nods. You study his expression and realize that—what the fuck—he’s actually serious! Kou seems like he’s around three years younger than you, and sure, he’s got experience, but you’ve never even considered him that way.

“Y/N-san?” he asks.

“Kou, I…”

Your silence must’ve been taken the wrong way. Kou leans closer until you can feel his breath on your cheek. You wince, pulling away, but he dives forward and—

There’s a finger on top of your lips. Your eyes widen in shock, and see that Kou’s entire face is covered by a familiar hand.

Your gaze lands on a mess of a Hoshina. He’s breathing heavily as if he’s run all the way to get here, and he’s got this petulant scowl directed at Kou that comes off so childish—like he’s been stolen of his favorite toy. 

“Vice Captain,” Kou greets. “You’re interrupting us.”

“Just—stop.” Your Vice-Captain gently pushes Kou away as he pulls you to him instead. He doesn’t look angry anymore; he is more flustered and defeated. “I get it, okay? You win.”

Kou smirks. “Whatever happened to attachments?”

“Fuck off before I attach this sword up your ass,” Hoshina hisses. You snort out of surprise, which in turn makes Hoshina direct his attention to you.

You swallow on nothing in particular. That look on his face—worry, sadness, and something else you can’t quite bring yourself to identify. It feels like fondness, but that just couldn’t be right. This is Hoshina Soshiro. He’s composed, and he’s calm, and he’s… and…

…and he’s buried his face on your neck, gripping your wrist tightly.

Kou whistles lowly. “I was in the middle of something, Vice-Cap.”

Hoshina doesn’t even fight back this time. He wordlessly listens to your heartbeat, that’s increasing in pace. He flips Kou off, though, which may be the nicest he’s been.

You’ve never seen him so vulnerable before. “Vice Captain?”

Hoshina breathes in shakily, muttering, “You didn’t accept his confession, right?”

You look up and realize that Kou has walked off, shoulders slumping. Hoshina inhales and exhales—he’s trying to calm down the trembling, you realize. You turn back to the man limp against you, unsure of where to place your hands.

“N-No, sir.”

Hoshina breathes out slowly. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He pulls away and then smiles at you like nothing has happened. “Good. Haaaah. Y/N, you make me worry so much, ya know?”

“I— I don’t know?”

Hoshina’s gaze is intense, making you freeze in his hold. “It’s like I can’t leave you alone for even a second, or else some runt will come and steal ya away.”

But even then, getting to witness this side of the Vice Captain this close…

Hoshina tilts his head. “Why’re ya making that face?” He laughs, pinching your cheek. “You’re so cute.”

“Sir, please,” you whine, trying to pull his fingers away.

A smile breaks across his face, drawing closer in the same way Kou did. You hold your breath. “I’ll get stronger, enough so no one tries to beat me to you again.”

Kou has just confessed, but his words are the ones that pierce through your heart. It’s not even a confession. Or—at least you don’t think so? Hoshina can surely hear your heartbeat in the silence of this hallway. He smiles wider and taps your nose, pulling back.

You feel lightheaded, overwhelmed, confused, and, well—you’re not exactly sure what Hoshina means, but his expression is clearer, less tense, and that’s all that matters to you.

“Let’s go back,” he says, but still, he keeps an arm around your waist.

[smoolpotaeto]

*Y/n and Levi training*

Levi, wiping the blood from his lips with a smirk: “Oh yeah? Is that the best you can do?”

Y/n, holding back tears: “Yeah actually, I’m trying really hard..”

Levi, standing up straight, shocked: “Oh.. ok.. hey— it’s ok—“