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[anime-central-archived]

genre: angst (I'm sorry :'))))) )

tw/cw: blood (due to the disease), unrequited love (Kenma was friend-zoned by his enamoured, hard).

Hanahaki Disease (花吐き病) is a fictional disease where the victim of an unrequited/one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs. It can be cured either if their enamoured reciprocate their feelings of genuine love, or through surgical removal of the plants' roots (which, sadly, would remove the victim's capacity for romantic love and may also erase their feelings for and memories of the enamoured); it can be fatal if left untreated. (Wikipedia)

My super-late entry for @kingkatsuki x @bakuroo-writings's Frozen Hearts collab. I was too lazy procrastinating about this (alongside other late collab entries) for months, but something made me think about this disease yesterday so I chose to be violent today /hj made this since late morning. Also tagging @anime-central @hanayanetwork

Likes are okay, reblogs are nice, reposts and plagiarism stuff are frowned upon 🥰 | ALL WORKS BY MADKITTYBLOSSOM © 2022

[anime-central-archived]

I joined a Punk KiriBaku Bang!!! It was my first bang piece! You can find the wonderful collection here. I was given the wonderful opportunity to be paired with my Beta @Hayhayn1 on TwT and the AMAAZING artist who created a piece for my fic @PunkInGlitter on TwT. *MINORS DNI*

Pistons & Glycerine 🍋🍋

Summary: It’s the annual Halloween Rat Rod Races and the Red Riot Garage has won. Kirishima and his employees Izuku, Ochako, and Shoto stay for the festivities after to catch the punk band playing. As he stands in the crowd he watches a ghost from his past walk across the stage. Katsuki never thought he’d see him again and felt the need to forget him after, but there he was standing out from the crowd. Can he get Kirishima to forgive him? Will they be together again?

WC: 6.2k

TW: M/M, Frotting, Angst w/Happy Ending, Male Oral, Anal Sex, Gaping, Alludes to Drug OD, Quirkless AU, Punk Rock, Kissing, Cursing, Public Sex, SHORT TOP BIG BOTTOM SUPREMACY

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[anime-central-archived]

Pairing: Kita x f!reader

Tags/tw: Established relationship, exhibition, alcohol consumption, praise, reader is wearing a dress, the heartache that comes with realizing this man isn’t real

WC: 2.9k

A/N: For @vanille–kiss I hope you like it! I tried to think like you since you didn’t know what you wanted 💛

Kita has been meaning to take the wall out between the kitchen and dining space for a long time now.

After moving into the little farmhouse, you had pointed out that it would open up the space and make things less cramped, and Kita had to agree with you. But between tending the fields and general life, the task kept getting brushed aside.

He assumes that’s how he ended up in this situation. Kita would like to believe he was raised well, to treat everyone respectfully, to not…eavesdrop.

But now he feels stuck. Does he set down his newspaper, stand up from the dining room table and make his presence known? You clearly don’t realize he’s sitting here, but it’s also clear you never intended him to hear this conversation. He’d finished up early today, and you probably hadn’t expected him to be home, and he’d been too engrossed in his reading to hear you until it was too late.

He hears you and your friend talking in the kitchen.

“Wait so you want to be watched?”

“No! No, like—if someone actually saw I’m pretty sure I’d die on the spot, not to mention get arrested. It’s the…” Your voice trails off, apparently searching for the words. “It’s the ‘threat of risk’, I guess.”

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[anime-central-archived]

𝔉𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯 ℭ𝔯𝔬𝔴𝔫

𖤐 Prince Kuroo x Fem!Reader

𖤐 Warnings: technically childhood friends to lovers, forbidden lovers, it seems angsty but there's a happy ending. (cause ya girl can’t do angst)

𖤐 Authors Note: hi hi! This is very different from what I normally post! But honestly I really enjoyed doing it! And I think it came out pretty okay 🥺 also I had to mention bokuto cause I can’t have kuroo without Bo hehe <33 this piece is for @introloves once upon a time collab! Thank you so much for hosting lovely!

𖤐 although this piece is SFW, minors you’re not welcome here :):)

The princess that Kuroo was betrothed to wasn’t all that bad.

She had a pretty face, although Kuroo believed she’d be a little prettier if she wasn’t scowling all the time. She tended to only smile when the two of them made public appearances around the kingdom, eyes alight for commoners waving at them on the horse and buggy only to dim as soon as they entered the castle gates. He never understood why she looked at her compact mirror so much, doing it so much she almost forgot he was present sometimes, only coming to acknowledge him with a little nod when she snapped the golden compact shut. He really tried to get to know her better, all the jokes he seemed to tell only made her look more bewildered, brows furrowing up before she’d speak. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.”

Sure she wasn’t bad

But she certainly wasn’t you

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[anime-central-archived]

“Behind the curtains”

+themes: romance,modern au,idol au,film au.

+cw: gn-reader, mutual pinning, college friends to lovers, non-explicit smut,kisses; pairing : idol sugawara koushi x gn-reader

+wc: 0.72k

+type: drabble

+masterlist: tap here for HQ masterlist

+taglist: tap here to be tagged in my future works

+tagging: @shibuyawardnetwork @anime-central @hqintheclub

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[anime-central-archived]

happy for you | streets, part three

it's been four and a half months since you left suna and nagano behind, so why does it feel like you're still stuck there?

word count: ~4k, part three of six ; angst, sfw, mdni 18+ anyway part of: the longfic collab by @/katsu-peach and the songfic collab by @goreist thank you to: @anime-nymph and @vanille–kiss for betaing for me <3 songs: streets by doja cat ; happy for you by alex porat

streets masterpost ; part one ; part two ; part three ; part four ; part five ; part six

EJP Raijin defeats MSBY Black Jackals to become V.1 League Champions

Led by the efforts of outside hitter Sarukui Nagito and star middle blocker Suna Rintarouㅡ

A picture of Suna sits beneath the news report, the golden trophy in his hands and a smile on his face. He’s covered in sweat, his yellow uniform clinging to his skin, a few pieces of confetti littering his dewy shoulders. He looks absolutely thrilled, and you understand why. It’s everything he’s been working toward since high school: getting into the big leagues, making it on a good team, fighting tooth and nail for a championship.

You should be happy for him. You know that clearly. A small but loud part of you is, if the little grin on your lips is any indication. But another part of you—the angry, vindictive part of you that’s simmering just below the service—isn’t just mad. She’s livid. It’s everything Suna wanted—what you wanted for him. Except now, on probably one of the happiest days of his life, you won’t be by his side.

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STARVING // sukuna x f! reader

includes: DARK CONTENT // 20+ // minors + under-20s DO NOT INTERACT please // NONCON // f! reader, yandere! sukuna, sloppy makeout, dacryphilia, lots of saliva, biting, hickies, blood, fear kink, mind breaking, extreme sadism, slapping, corruption kink, name-calling, multiple orgasms, oral (f! receiving), heavy fingering, no aftercare

themes: breaking + entering | confessions | the chase | mind-breaking

prompt: This is for the anilysium server’s collab! The theme is confessions and the prompt I got — “that was nothing but a silly childhood promise.” Thank you CATH for hosting/organizing this collab and being so, so welcoming!

summary: Yuuji carries a burden, a burden who listens in on his thoughts. Thoughts of you. So many thoughts, so constant that now that burden’s own interest has peaked. Now that burden watches you when you’re with Yuuji too. And now that burden has a confession to make.

wc: 3.2k | reblogs and interactions appreciated!

m. list | haikyuu bad boyfriends m. list

The sound of your key twisting in your door lock is heard over the chatter you make with your neighbors, an older couple on their way out for date night.

“Have fun!” you say, voice echoing into your apartment as you get through the door. You kick it closed behind you, setting down belongings, taking off your coat and shoes, a soft smile on your face as you make your way to your bedroom.

The warm lighting from the lamp you thought you’d turned off shines through the slit in the doorway, illuminating your face as you enter. You freeze, your bare foot stepping back at the sight of a man with a pink head of hair seated on the window sill.

His head is down, shoulders rounded, hands clinging to the edge of the sill at his sides.

You suck a breath between your teeth.

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[anime-central-archived]

sfw submissions

Compatibility Chart - Kenma x gn!reader - @mrskenmakozume

Heartstrings - Bokuto x female reader - @haikyuufairy

Long Enough - Suna x gn!reader - @xmyshya

Behind the Curtains - Sugawara x gn!!reader - @blueparadis

Flower Crown - Kuroo x f!reader - @bokuroskitten​

Hanahaki Disease - Kenma art - @/mrskenmakozume

nsfw submissions

Good Girls Get it All - Kyoutani x f!reader - @anime-nymph​

I Wish (Streets, Part 2) - Suna x f!reader - @meiansmistress​

Happy For You (Streets, Part 3) Suna x f!reader - @/meiansmistress

Sweet, Sweet Surprise - Kita x f!reader - @/anime-nymph

dc submissions

Starving - Sukuna x f!reader - @martellprincess-writes​

sfw submissions

wedding ring headcannons - multi - @lou-struck

nsfw submissions

Pistons and Glycerin - Kirishima x Bakugou - @aztecbrujeria​

[anime-central-archived]

This is a message to anime-central’s creators!

Thank you so much for your creations over the past six months! We were very glad to help gain some visibility for your works, but we are sad to announce that anime-central will be archiving its account.

The final masterlist will be posted tomorrow and the blog will stay active as an archive.

Some of your works from the final masterlist have not been reblogged yet, but they are in the queue and will go out over the next few days. 

Thanks again!

[anime-central-archived]

Long enough

pairing: Suna Rintarou x gn!reader genre: fluff warnings: none betas: @lemonadencran thank you so much 💙 a/n: Fic is part of the Anilysium Confessions collab! You can find the masterlist here wc: 1k

Movies are unrealistic, Suna Rintarou thinks; it has nothing to do with the movie currently being displayed on the screen though, even if there are superpowers involved (no matter how much he wishes to have those). As a grown man he knows they are a work of fiction and doesn’t question it, so no, it’s not about the superheroes.

It’s not about the horrors either—Suna doesn’t believe in monsters (the worst kind of monsters are people anyway), not in zombies, not in ghosts, not really in oni or youkai. The world is dark and evil as is, it doesn’t need anything supernatural to make it scary for many.

Actually, it doesn’t concern anything super-something, no, because those are obviously against the laws of nature, or physics, or whatever.

The biggest surprise (or maybe disappointment), he thinks, is the depiction of love. He’s been fed with images of grand feelings and even greater gestures—of departures and rushing to the airport, of dancing and kissing in the rain, of speeches and confessions at proms—but there’s nothing of the sort.

Sure, he has dated before, but none of his relationships lasted for long; they had always left saying he was too detached, heartless even. And back then he thought it was true—after all his only response was a shrug and a quiet “‘kay”—he was never heartbroken, never fell into despair, never felt the pang in his chest. Maybe I’m just incapable of loving, he thought.

But now, being 25 and having met so many different kinds of people, Suna realises it isn’t true. Because here he is sitting on your couch, with your feet in his lap, and he glances at you crying for the hundredth time at the aftermath of Thanos’ snap. He thinks you’re soft and kind—it’s not frustrating, despite the many times he’s teased you about being a cry-baby with a flick on your forehead.

Still looking at you, he wonders when exactly he started having feelings deeper than just friendship, but he doesn’t know. There’s never been a moment of a great enlightenment, of a realisation striking him like a lightning bolt. Which is why it took him so long; he can’t help but think of himself as a frog being boiled—on a gradually increased flame—which doesn’t notice the situation it’s in until it’s too late.

Even after all these years you’ve known each other, it’s still fun to be around you. It’s incredibly easy to agitate you but you always bark back. Your sense of humour is just as wicked as his, and you both love the disgusted faces of people around while you’re hiccuping from laughter. You never push him, yet he always ends up spilling his secrets and thoughts, and worries, and you always listen with just a hum of acknowledgement, only to point out a detail he’s been missing.

That’s why—it being a sole reason as he’s always claimed—you’ve been his priority. He’s always asked you first to accompany him to some event bringing the disapproval of his then-partners, cancelled who knows how many dates because you needed help (even if you didn’t ask him to), and insisted on your participation in “high school boys reunion nights.” Over the years it’s been happening more and more frequently, until it became as natural as breathing.

Suna has never felt his heart ache—not even when it comes to you—even though he has missed you. But you were always just a phone call away in these cases, which he has made use of, despite god knowing how much he hates doing that.

Once, he recalls, you named him a cat—to which he proudly responded with “a fox! Not a cat!” but he supposes you were right. He’s always needed a great deal of alone time to recharge, coming back when he craved human interaction—just like a cat—and you—like a cat person—don’t seem to mind. Paradoxically, this is what kept him craving it more; your welcoming smile shone brighter than the sun itself, and filled him with indescribable warmth.

His eyes drop to his hands resting on your calves; the conjunction of skin radiates so much heat that Suna feels it in his chest and on his cheeks. He likes it—the softness under his fingers—and how it blooms with goosebumps following their movement. It’s really tempting to keep drawing patterns that would go up to your thighs and—if he’s lucky—maybe even higher.

What wouldn’t he give to be the one allowed to caress you like this, to leave trails of those tiny bumps and then kiss it “better”. He wonders if your skin would leave the same taste on his tongue as your name—sweet and refreshing—though he’s quite sure it would be addictive. The olive eyes move up, following a mental path of his mouth, and stop at your lips. They’re so compelling, and he can barely stop himself from kissing them like a madman.

“Rin?”

Your voice brings him back to the here and now, stripped of any what-ifs, and your eyes are exactly on his. Suna hums.

“You’re staring at me.”

“Am I?” Play it cool, play it cool.

“Yeah, you are. What are you thinking about?”

He cannot play it cool. Not when you look so amused and concerned, and so relaxed in his presence. Not when you’re splayed out on your couch in your dimly lit living room, with his hands on your calves. Not when you feel so warm and soft, and almost expectant.

He cannot play it cool, and he cannot bear your gaze. Suna lets his body fall behind yours—his face hidden in your hair and arm thrown over your waist. You tense.

“I think I love you.”

Your body relaxes with a long exhale, and then you laugh,

“Took you long enough, dumbass.”

Suna should feel insulted, maybe surprised that you’ve known, maybe disappointed that you’ve never acted on it. But he can’t, because you turn to face him and kiss him softly and tenderly, as if you’ve been waiting years to do this and you’re scared to shatter this moment. He kisses you back, just as softly and tenderly.

And no, your lips don’t leave the same taste as your name.

They taste so much better.

@hanayanetwork @anime-central @nicka-nell

[anime-central-archived]

Title: Heartstrings (What If?)

Pairing: Bokuto Koutarou/Female Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: A bit of angst, some previous heart break from Bokuto's original storyline.

A/N: Hi, this is the What If (or 'fix it') story to Bokuto's story arch. This occurs in the middle of the chapter, "Reconciliation," but before MC met Ushijima. If you don't remember the story, that's ok! You can ignore this lol

Bokuto's Story - Master Post for Heartstrings

Bokuto feels punished. He sees you in every piece of his life. In the stands of one of his games, in the passenger seat of his car, in his bed, in his dreams. He has tried everything he can not to let the phantom of you haunt him, the woman who loved him and let him go. For his own good, or something shitty like that.

A text comes from his partner, the person his red string attached so anxiously to.

Would you like to grab dinner?

No. No, he wouldn’t. He’d like to stay in his apartment with a single bed, an uncomfortable couch, and a table unused in his living area. The walls are barren and his bed empty, just like he needs it to be. Bokuto should be grateful this one doesn’t smell of your shampoo or the lotion you put on every night before bed.

The last time he had tried to be with her—for you, he’d told himself—he brought her to the same restaurant you picked for your fifth date. He did it so he could remember you in the warm light ambiance, under the guise of moving forward. The server looked at him funny and wondered why he was there with someone that looked nothing like you.

“I can’t do this.” He says. “I can’t fucking do this anymore.”

Akaashi looks up from his book, legs crossed on the shitty couch, and gazes at his best friend lying motionless on the floor.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“She doesn’t want me anymore, ‘kaashi.”

“Of course she does.” He sighs, marking the page of his book before shutting it. “She loves you. You were going to get married, and she tried to cut your string to be with you, Bokuto.”

Bokuto nods. He knows. A month ago, he remembers holding you to him, kissing the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your cheek, and the wet mess of your eyelids. His hands moving up the planes of your back when you counted down to cut the string between you. You wept and so did he.

He covers his face in the crook of his elbow, but Akaashi sees the stuttering breath he takes and the tremble of his lips.

“Keiji,” he sniffs. “I’m gonna fix this. I have to.”

Sat on the couch in your childhood home, Bokuto can’t shake his anxiety. His leg is bouncing, and he’s already swallowed down two glasses of water offered to him by your mom.

Her comforting hand rests firmly on his shoulder. “Relax,” she says. “As far as we’re concerned, you’re still our son-in-law.”

“Thank you.” Bokuto has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from sobbing. “I know, um,” he clears his throat. “I know it didn’t work, but I think I can fix it. If, if you’re both able to tell me more. Please?”

Your dad sits next on the opposite side of him with a small case in hand. When he opens it, nestled comfortably inside are the scissors he watched you hold over a month ago.

“There’s something she didn’t do when she tried to cut the string.”

Bokuto stares at him, blinking owlishly and in slight shock. “What?”

“We’re only able to cut a red string with explicit consent from both parties.” He watches him take the scissors out of the case and slip it between the two of them. “If the one fated partner does not agree to being separated, then it will only fray.”

The younger man watches him put the blades on either side of the red string and the same thing happens; threads fray, but the string won’t cut.

“Why does it fray?”

“Because you don’t want this string here. If you did, then scissors, no matter the strength, would remain ironclad.”

He sets them back in the case and closes it gently. “Your fated partner, not agreeing to be without you, is the reason for the string being there still.”

Bokuto’s hand comes up to the middle of his chest and he rubs the area where the string connects. “Did, did she know?”

“My daughter?” Bokuto nods.

“She did,” your mother says. “Whether or not she remembered in her sorrow, we don’t know.”

“May I,” Bokuto glances at the case. “May I take them?”

He looks back and forth between your parents and sees their smiles.

“Of course. When you’re done with them, you can return them, ok?”

Bokuto has never been so grateful in his life.

"But," his red string partner stares at him like he's grown two heads, like the idea of him loving someone that isn't her is a new and foreign concept. "You're supposed to love me."

To a certain degree, Bokuto feels guilty. The woman in front of him had been sure her red string partner would love her no matter what. That fate ensured her a man with unconditional admiration and devotion. Unfortunately, Bokuto Koutarou had promised every piece of himself to another. Despite the string's connection and the will of The Fates, Bokuto's heart would never budge. In fact, the organ screams out for someone else, someone that has always assumed themselves unfit for happily ever after.

"If I would have met you before her, maybe there would have been a chance." He tries to soften the blow, to cushion the harshness of her reality. "But I can't," he takes a deep breath. "I can't love you."

"Why not?" She reaches her hand over to his to hold it, but he rejects her. "Am I not good enough?"

"You aren't her." Bokuto shakes his head. "I've loved her since I met her. She is the person I want to have a family with, the woman I want to take care of when we grow old. I," he smiles, eyes downcast to the table they're sat at. "I want to hold her hand when we die because I know we would do it together."

"I see," she says, voice cracking.

"Please." Bokuto wipes his own eyes and bows his head low. "I beg you. Let me go. Both for my sake and yours. Let me go so we can live happy lives."

A week later, Bokuto knocks on your door and prays you open it to him. He sees you there, smiling, unaware of whom you've opened your door to and then the realization hits. You look ok, maybe better than him, but he can see the dark circles under your eyes and he knows there’s something harsh and melancholic under the surface.

When you don’t move, Iwaizumi comes to the door.

“Oh, shit.” He says. “Fuck, uh, hey, Bokuto.”

“I, um,” Bokuto doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know if he should even be here anymore. “I wanted to… I wanted to show you my red string.”

Iwaizumi’s face distorts into a grimace. “Are you serious?”

Bokuto is suddenly aware of how that sounds and stumbles over himself trying to explain. “N-no! Not like that!” Desperate, he reaches out to you. “Look,” he pleads. “Really look at it!”

You hesitate, but grant his request. On a sharp inhale, you ‌cry and Iwaizumi shoves Bokuto away from you, but you shout, grabbing Iwaizumi’s shirt to stop him from doing anything worse.

“No! Wait, wait—!” Your breathing is shaky and you can barely speak. You’re pushing both of them inside your home, and before anyone can say another word, your hands are trembling as they hover over Bokuto’s chest. “What did you do?”

“I cut it,” he says. “It’s gone, Y/n. It’s gone.”

When he looks up, Iwaizumi’s eyes are wider than he’s ever seen them. He excuses himself, leaving the apartment to give you both space.

“No.” You shake your head in disbelief. “No, no, I tried that, and it didn’t work. Kou–Bokuto it didn’t work!”

Another piece of him breaks. “We missed something,” he explains. “We had to get her permission. I had to convince her that whatever the Fates put together wasn’t concrete.” Koutarou hesitantly takes you in his arms before your legs give out. He follows you straight down to the floor at the entrance to your home and holds you firmly. “I made her realize you are the only person I would ever love. I want to wake up to you in the morning and go to sleep next to you at night.” Tears flood his vision. “Baby,” he shakes, biting his lip to stifle the worst of his cries. “Baby, I want to lay my head in your lap like I used to. I want to hold your hand and receive your kisses before a match. I want my last name to be yours and to see your arms full with our child. We should be next to each other until the end of time. Forever,” he mutters. “I want forever.”

“Koutarou.” Your fingers dig into his shoulder blades as you sob his name. “Kou,” you hiccup. “Oh, god, Kou. I missed you. Please, please–,” you don’t know what you’re begging for, but he seems to find the words you’re missing.

Bokuto kisses your lips, your jaw, your cheek, and then your weeping eyelids. “I love you,” he says with such profound feeling through his own shuddering sobs ‌you break down harder. “I love you more than anyone else in this world. Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes.” You’re clinging to him. Too afraid that if you let go, then all of this will ‌be some horrid nightmare. That you will wake up and he will no longer be there. “I love you. I love you so much. You’re everything, Kou. You’re my entire world.”

There, on the floor of your apartment, you hold each other with the same shaking desperation you had before parting ways.

“I’m yours,” he says firmly and pulls back to hold your face delicately between his hands. “I am no one else's but yours for the rest of my life.”

“Do you promise?” You sniffle, nose running.

“I promise.” He kisses your forehead. “I told you before, but you’re all I’ve ever wanted. Only you.”

There is a tender light kindling between you, something that makes the two of you pause and watch as it grows. The frayed tendrils of your own string that once connected you to Bokuto stretches itself and finds the man in front of you. No longer yellow, the fibers burn a bright fluorescent pink, much like the one shared between your parents.

Bokuto laughs. “Finally,” he says. “Finally, you’re mine!”

“You’re mine,” you agree between gentle kisses. “Against fate, you’re mine."

Tagging: @belongtothewcrld @nonstop-haikyuu @liibrii @bokutobabee @asdfghjkl7things @ruemensukuna @kiritokunuwu @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @akimeno @maer-333 @samwise-though @kam-bae @squiddlie @gayerthanthee @mikiminaccch @crocigator @yourstarvic @leviathans-watching @iwaroses @archiepudding @boosyboo9206 @hanayanetwork

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[anime-central-archived]

Compatibility Chart

pairing: Kozume Kenma x gn!reader

genre: fluff with crack (in smau format)

tw/cw: post-timeskip, domestic fluff, established relationship (reader and Kenma are married here), angry reader (more like pissed-off lol), Kenma is an INTP so reader is either ISFP/ESFP/ISTP/ESTP (see 'one-sided match' below), slight suggestive content in the end, Kenma is (lowkey) a total simp for his s/o.

a/n: remember that MBTI Compatibility tag game that made rounds on Tumblr days ago? Yeah, that. Me and some of my friends and moots were kinda annoyed/pissed by the results that I turned my frustration yesterday about it into writing. Also not me swearing that I won't do another smau post but... siiiiigh here we go again smh /gen tagging @anime-central @hanayanetwork

Want to be a part of my general taglist? Form link here.

Likes are okay, reblogs are nice, reposts and plagiarism stuff are frowned upon 🥰 | ALL WORKS BY MADKITTYBLOSSOM © 2022

[anime-central-archived]

i wish | streets, part two

it's not fair that you look so happy without him, because suna rintarou is a mess without you, and there's no one to blame but himself.

word count: 2.7k, part two of six ; angst, a line of smut, mdni 18+ anyway part of: the longfic collab by @katsupeach and the songfic collab by @goreist thank you to: @anime-nymph and @vanille--kiss for betaing for me <3 songs: streets by doja cat ; i wish by joel corry ft. mabel

streets masterpost ; part one ; part two ; part three ; part four ; part five ; part six

The apartment is quiet when Suna steps inside, just like it has been for the past four months.

Part of him still expects you to be there when he walks inside, greeting him with an embrace, a kiss, a sly comment or two—or, for the few months before your breakup, a nervous smile.

Can he even call it a breakup if you left with no word, blocking him on every single avenue and ghosting him without even a damn conversation?

Suna knows he did wrong. He realized it the moment you texted telling him to call you. If he’s honest with himself, he knew it before then too. He saw the way your smiles grew more anxious, more nervous. The way your touches lingered over his shoulder and arms when normally, he’d have to beg you to let go. The way you went to bed earlier than normal so you’d stop looking over your shoulder every time he picked up his phone.

You said you couldn’t trust him, and at first he didn’t believe it. But then all the evidence added up into one big ‘fuck you, Suna Rintarou’ moment the second he walked into the empty apartment: you didn’t trust him because he made you not trust him.

He knows all of that clearly now, because the deafening silence in the house reminds him of it every time he steps inside.

That was why he texted you frantically on the way back from the game, hoping you’d see the messages and give him a chance. He wanted to call you as soon as you sent the first ‘Call me’ message, but Washio had taken his phone, pushing a mixer in his hand instead.

“Come on man, forget it! Let’s celebrate!”

There was a lot to celebrate, Suna told himself as he downed his drink. His team was doing good enough for the playoffs and their win that night had practically sealed the deal. It was a few months away, sure, but they were on a hot streak, pulling away from the other teams and keeping hold on first place by a landslide. He played his ass off all five sets, clenching a victory with a few good spikes. It didn't matter that Washio had his phone and he missed your messages, because he was lost in the laughs and cheers of his teammates, and the high of a good game.

He didn’t even realize the cheerleader posted that picture until your calls couldn’t be ignored.

It was on the way down, his head pounding with the slight hangover and swerves of the bus, sending you message after message, that he recognized how wrong he had been. Suna can’t blame his teammates completely, but it was thanks to Washio and a few other guys that it started.

You’re going to propose? Aren’t you a little young for that?

She’s your first long-term girlfriend?

You’re not even 25 and you want to get married? Whatever, it’s your life, man.

It was young but he thought that his love for you was all he needed. He could overcome anything if he had you to come home to. But then one of his teammates got traded midseason, and another went down to injury, needing surgery and probably never able to play the same again, and it struck a nerve. What would happen if he had to move? You had your job, your friends, your family. If he got traded, would you follow? If he went abroad, to Italy or Brazil or America—would everything be over? What if he got injured and could never play again? Who the hell would support you both, and what the fuck would he do if everything he worked toward was gone in a flash?

And ultimately, the most chilling question: Was love really enough?

There were too many questions sitting heavy on his mind, so he distanced himself from you, from the life you built together.

Because they were right—it was easier to forget about his worries and go out to the bars without worrying about keeping you updated.

It was more productive to stay at the gym a little longer to work on his swing, and there was the extra bonus of growing closer with his teammates.

It was more of an ego boost to have other women talking to him. Though he never responded with more than (what he thought was) professionalism, it felt good to know he still had it.

It was that stupid fucking ego that ended with him alone on the couch night after night, the apartment empty of anything but his self-pity and mistakes.

Tonight he takes his time in the shower, letting the scalding hot water run down his back to wash away the lingering thoughts of you. Suna watches the droplets disappear down the drain, trickling like the tears he shed when he realized you were gone. Today’s game was a heartbreaker—hard-fought but ultimately ending in a loss that tied the series up 2-2. If his team doesn’t win the next game, they can kiss their championship chances goodbye.

On nights like tonight, he would fall into your arms. You would wrap yourself around him, pressing lingering kisses to his forehead, silent save for the calm beating of your heart. You never needed to say anything; your touch was enough to have him forget about his stress and troubles, melting into the fingers you ran through his hair and the murmurs of how well he did into his temple.

Now all he has are the lingering whispers of your love, and the black box that sits untouched in the top drawer of his dresser.

His wet hair drips onto the hardwood floor of his bedroom as he stares at it, not bothering to towel off or hurry to clean up. He should get rid of it. Sell the ring, move on with his life, just like you have.

He sees it all over your social media. Pictures of you out with your friends. In cafes, in flower shops, standing too close to your male co-workers with a peace sign and a smile. Beautiful. Warm. Bright.

Happy.

Happy without him. Happy without his love, without him by your side like you’d talked about so many times. Happy without that fucking diamond ring he takes from his dresser for no reason, curling his hand around the box and holding onto it like it’s a lifeline.

The ring sits on the coffee table as he shuffles through your Instagram for the thousandth time. You don’t even know he’s looking at it—you blocked him the day after leaving the house, wiping away any traces of him from your biography and your photos. He has to go back almost a year to find pictures of you that include him, even if he’s not present in them.

There’s one where you’re standing in the full-length mirror of some restaurant, your dress a bit lowcut, your face obscured by the camera. He took you to that restaurant after his first major pay, splurging on the hotel room attached. That night he fucked you silly, until your voice was hoarse from calling his name, and you were giggling as you pushed his shoulders away. ‘I can’t take another one, Rin.’ And yet you did, falling apart beneath his cock with the most beautiful, blissed out look on your face.

There’s another where you have on Mickey Mouse ears from that Disneyland vacation you begged him to take you on. He hadn’t wanted to go but you insisted, saying it would be fun to ride all the rides together. You bought matching ears—yours rose gold, his plain black—and he snapped the photo as you were trying them on in the store. ‘Aren’t they pretty? I’ll buy them for us!’ And he never told you, but he wasn’t thinking about the fucking ears. He was thinking how pretty your smile was, and how he wanted to see you smiling like that for him all the time.

There’s one more where you’re holding onto an ice cream cone bigger than your head, midway through a laugh. The tagline says, “You think I can finish this?” You’d asked him the same question and the answer was a resounding no. He had to finish about half of it, though you tried to sneak another bite or two while moaning about how full you were. After he finished and wiped his hands of the cone crumbs, you turned to him with a laugh. “What would I do without you, Rin?”

Apparently the answer is: live like he’d never fucking existed.

You can delete the evidence, you can delete the pictures, you can delete your cheeky bio of “Superstar Suna Rintarou’s better half.” But you can’t erase the fact that he was there, that he’s been there. Been by your side for every picture, every moment, every memory. Held you when you cried over your shitty job passing you up for another promotion. Smiled when you finally got recognition for your efforts. Laughed when you failed at making his favorite dish and ended up ordering it, pretending that you cooked it yourself. He can still hear your shrieking laughter when he found the takeout bag hidden underneath the other garbage, a guilty smile on your face when you explained what happened.

How can you do this to him?

Suna knows he deserves your anger. He deserves your ire, your annoyance. But he doesn’t deserve this—to be thrown away like that takeout bag, hidden underneath everything else in your life. To be erased and forgotten without even a word, his last pleading messages to you forever left unread. To be ghosted without even a conversation to fix the mess he created.

How could you throw away three fucking years without even bothering to let him explain?

The first few months had been filled with melancholy and regret. He went through the motions of life, making mistakes at practice and drawing the ire of his coach, avoiding the apartment as much as he could so he could evade the ghost of you. His teammates—the same ones who invited him out and planted the seeds of doubt into his mind in the first place—clapped their hands on his shoulder with pinched expressions and apologies in their eyes, but not on their lips. He knew what they were thinking: it’s better this way, isn’t it? Time to spread your wings. You can find someone better. It’s what they’ve been hinting at the last season, while he listened to them without even considering you.

Suna doesn’t want “better.” He wants bad romance dramas on the weekends that fill the apartment with laughs and sobs. He wants slightly burnt fish and a nervous, “is it okay?” He wants the soft sighs of his name, the warmth of breath on his cheek, and the tug of nimble fingers on his shirt to take it off. He wants the solidness of something next to him, the weight of it making him drift off to sleep.

Suna Rintarou wants you.

But you don’t want him.

That thought keeps him up at night, staring at the ceiling. Shadows and shapes dance in the neon lights from the businesses outside the window of your shared apartment. (Can he even call it that anymore?) His body is tired but his mind races a mile a minute, thinking about what you could be doing. Are you with someone else? Are you out at the bars like he used to be, and do you know how much every single fiber in his being regrets it? How much he misses you every goddamn second? Misses how you would mold to his chest whenever he was home, misses how you would press a kiss to his chin, giggling when he grimaced at it?

Every single inch of this apartment is filled with you, even four months after you left it all behind.

He wants to burn it all to the fucking ground.

There are shadows under his eyes when he goes into practice, going through play after play until he’s sore. Sore but still angry—at you for ignoring him, at himself for giving into his worries and listening to his teammates, and the other team for daring to try and win his championship. The announcers call it “the strength of a man determined”, and maybe he is. EJP Raijin wins the match and secures a place in the finals, but Suna slips out before the others can pester him into going out. It’s what got him in trouble in the first place.

Halfway through the drive home, he gets a phone call from Osamu.

“Congrats on the win, Rin,” Osamu says through the speakers of his car. Then the restaurant owner barks out a laugh. “Cuttin’ it real close though, ain’t ya?”

“…Yeah.”

Suna has tried not to think about the off-season, because not even a week after the championship match, Osamu is set to be married. Minamoto Arisu, the daughter of some rich CEO, is soon to become Miya Arisu. She was adamant that the wedding be like those “western weddings she had dreamed about since she was a kid!” So that meant groomsmen and a bachelor party, whatever the hell that was. It was supposed to be a fall wedding, but Osamu convinced her to move the date to April so that both he and Atsumu could join as groomsmen.

You were supposed to be his date. Supposed to be the one dancing with him at the reception. Supposed to be the one to say yes when he pulled that box from his coat and finally put the ring to good use.

Now you’re the one who won’t be there.

“The trip’s in two weeks,” Osamu reminds him. “In case ya forgot with everything else goin’ on.”

Everything else includes your break up—something both Miya twins know much too well.

“You think I’d forget? Arisu’s had the tickets booked for months now.”

Osamu laughs, the sound tinny over his speakers. “She wanted me to remind ya.”

“I think she’d rent all of Okinawa for that weekend if she could.”

“Yea, it’s gettin’ a little… out of hand.”

Out of hand is one way to put it. Insanely expensive is another. Suna doesn’t want to think about how much money is going into this wedding, and he doesn’t dare ask Osamu either. He’s not sure his friend even knows the answer—Arisu has been the one to take the reins on all the preparations, according to Osamu. To help you focus on his growing business, since you’re trying to open a second branch, ‘Samu! That was her excuse anyway, and Suna thinks Osamu only went with it because it meant fun times with his best friends.

On the other end, Osamu chuckles. “If it makes her happy.”

“Sure.”

“I think it’ll be good to get away for a bit,” Osamu muses. In the background, Suna can hear the banging of pots and pans from Onigiri Miya. “Me from my store, you and ‘Tsumu from volleyball.”

“Volleyball,” Suna repeats stoically. He hears Osamu’s meaning loud and clear.

“Listen, Rin, if ya—”

“I’m fine.”

“I know, but I mean—”

“S’fine, ‘Samu.” It’s a little more forceful, a little more heavy-handed than he intends it to be. It’s clear that he’s not fine—and honestly, Suna doesn’t remember the last time he was fine—but he clears his throat anyway. “I’ll be there, win or lose.”

“Let’s hope it’s a win,” Osamu answers lightly. “Give us another reason to celebrate.”

“I think we’ll have enough reasons,” Suna jokes as he pulls into his apartment complex. The building is tall, dark, looming in the distance like a monster as he stares at it. “I’ll take all the pictures you need.”

“I told Arisu to hire ya as the photographer, but she wouldn’t listen to me,” he laughs before the line goes quiet again. There’s a beat before Osamu says, “If there’s somethin’ ya need, let me know.”

A time machine. A second chance. A way to make you unblock him to answer his messages.

A procedure to make his heart stop feeling like it’s being stabbed over and over every time he stares at his blank phone and the dark, empty apartment.

“Nah,” Suna answers softly. “I’m okay. I’ll see you soon.”

“Good luck.”

Suna knows Osamu isn’t just talking about the upcoming match, but he’ll pretend he is. That way, his chest won’t be as tight when he hangs up the phone, and time won’t move as slowly as he waits and waits in his car, not wanting to go back upstairs.

The apartment is quiet when Suna steps inside, just like it has been for the past four months, and just like it will be until you come home.

[anime-central-archived]

Pairing: Dom!Kyoutani x f!reader

Tags/tw: anal play (toy), collaring, color system, “daddy” petname, impact play, pet play (puppy, heavy), subspace, watersports, somewhat comfort

WC: 2.3k

A/N: For @kentimestwo I’m sorry I took so long but I hope you like it! I did my best to keep it balanced 💜

Kyoutani loves a lot of things about you.

He loves that no matter how cold he sets the thermostat you never complain, instead clinging to him and taking away his excess body heat.

He loves that whenever he makes a quick stop to get something to eat you’ll feed him fries while he’s driving, knowing full well he could do it himself.

He loves that whenever he has to get up early for practice, you always wake up and walk him to the door to kiss him goodbye, even if you are wrapped in your blanket and going straight back to bed as soon as he leaves.

But right now Kyoutani is thinking that he loves how quickly your eyes glaze over as your collar clicks into place, the absent graze of your fingers over the tag that reads “Daddy’s Favorite Pup”. 

“Good girl, on your belly.”

Keep reading

[anime-central-archived]

What Do They Do With Their Wedding Ring While On Patrol

Featuring: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Eijirou Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, and Shoto Todoroki...

There are many jobs where keeping a traditional wedding ring /band on your finger can be impractical or dangerous. Being a Pro Hero definitely is one of these jobs. How would our favorite Heros cope with not being able to wear their normal Wedding Band when on Patrol?

Izuku Midoriya… He is so creative when it comes to wanting to show his love for you. He knows that if he uses his quirk he would smash his wedding band into a thousand tiny shards. As much as he hates to do it, he makes sure to keep his ring in the safety of his office while he fights crime.

The first time he did this though, he felt like he was missing something important. Taking a thick black marker he drew a ring around his finger. The comfort of seeing a ring there did wonders. But as time moved on he opted to have you draw little ring designs around his finger before work. He loves the personal touch and shows it to everyone in his office as he clocks in.

Katsuki Bakugou… He may not be too keen on jewelry, but his wedding band is a reminder of his favorite person in the whole world. He knows he has to take it off during work, but he doesn't like it.

To fix this annoyance, he decides to get a band with the date of your anniversary tattooed to his finger so even when he has to take it off he knows you are still with him. While some people may criticize him for it, he doesn't give a damn. He’ll love you forever, that is what he made the vow for in the first place.

Eijirou Kirishima… Sweet boy didn't even think about it at first, he was just so happy to call you his that he never thought he would take the Tungsten band off his fingers. This was a mistake because the first time he went unbreakable the metal warped and broke off his finger into smaller fragments in the rubble. His heart sank as he stares at his now bare ring finger.

Not wanting this to ever happen again he went out and bought himself a stretchy silicone band that can keep up with his everchanging skin and the stress that comes with being a hero.

Denki Kaminari… He hates that he has to take off his ring at all, just removing the band from his finger feels like the ultimate betrayal of his love for you. With this in mind, he decided to add a little addition to his hero uniform. A small chain where he can loop his wedding band around so at least if the ring cant is on his finger at least it will be closer to his heart.

Shoto Todoroki… He knows that it really isn't a good idea to have his wedding band on his person when he activates his quirk. He doesn't want to part with his wedding band even for a minute. So it was no surprise to his designers when he went to his support department to ask for a special pocket to hold the ring without damaging it.

Now he takes pride in knowing that your love is with him where ever work takes him all he needs to do is look down at the hidden pocket over his heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was my first time doing something like this, please let me know what you think!

@anime-central

[anime-central-archived]

(February 21st) Bi-Weekly Masterlist

sfw submissions

Make Out Moodboard - Multi - @mrskenmakozume

This ain’t High School - Atsumu x gn!reader - @ara-mitsue

Kenma Love’s Chocolate - Kenma art - @/mrskenmakozume

nsfw submissions

Late Night Promises - Suna x f!reader - @anime-nymph

Kitty Girl - Kuroo x f!reader; Bokuto x f!reader - @bokuroskitten

dc submissions

Repentance - Demon!Kuroo x f!reader - @meiansmistress​

sfw submissions

Mr. and Mrs - headcannons (Geto, Gojo,Nanami,Choso) - @blueparadis

“Boy”friend - Inumaki x gn!reader - @/mrskenmakozume

nsfw submissions

If the Sky was Pink and White - Megumi x fem-bodied!reader - @babe-im-bi

Blisters of Jealousy - Geto x f!reader - @/blueparadis

Technology These Days - Gojo x f!reader - @/fuwushiguro

Afternoon Bliss - Yuta x f!reader; Inumaki x f!reader - @/mrskenmakozume

dc submissions

I’ve Loved You Since This Morning (Carnivore pt 3) - Tojj x f!reader; Megumi x f!reader - @fuwushiguro

Honey I’m Home - Gojo x f!reader - @/martellprincess-writes

Debts Unpaid - Toji x f!reader - @/anime-nymph

sfw submissions

Not Me Thinking About… - Izuku Midoriya x reader - @lou-struck​

Wind Chill - Hawks x reader - @/lou-struck

nsfw submissions

Tastes Like Strawberries - Aizawa x f!reader - @/blueparadis

Things You Can Do With Your Hands - Dabi x f!reader - @/fuwushiguro

My One, My Only - Shoji x f!reader - @/anime-nymph

dc submissions

The Man of Your Dreams - Incubus!Dabi x f!reader - @/anime-nymph

Don’t Be Shy - Overhaul x f!reader - @martellprincess-writes

[anime-central-archived]

(February 21st) Bi-Weekly Masterlist

sfw submissions

Make Out Moodboard - Multi - @mrskenmakozume

This ain’t High School - Atsumu x gn!reader - @ara-mitsue

Kenma Love’s Chocolate - Kenma art - @/mrskenmakozume

nsfw submissions

Late Night Promises - Suna x f!reader - @anime-nymph

Kitty Girl - Kuroo x f!reader; Bokuto x f!reader - @bokuroskitten

dc submissions

Repentance - Demon!Kuroo x f!reader - @meiansmistress​

sfw submissions

Mr. and Mrs - headcannons (Geto, Gojo,Nanami,Choso) - @blueparadis

“Boy”friend - Inumaki x gn!reader - @/mrskenmakozume

nsfw submissions

If the Sky was Pink and White - Megumi x fem-bodied!reader - @babe-im-bi

Blisters of Jealousy - Geto x f!reader - @/blueparadis

Technology These Days - Gojo x f!reader - @/fuwushiguro

Afternoon Bliss - Yuta x f!reader; Inumaki x f!reader - @/mrskenmakozume

dc submissions

I’ve Loved You Since This Morning (Carnivore pt 3) - Tojj x f!reader; Megumi x f!reader - @fuwushiguro

Honey I’m Home - Gojo x f!reader - @/martellprincess-writes

Debts Unpaid - Toji x f!reader - @/anime-nymph

sfw submissions

Not Me Thinking About... - Izuku Midoriya x reader - @lou-struck​

Wind Chill - Hawks x reader - @/lou-struck

nsfw submissions

Tastes Like Strawberries - Aizawa x f!reader - @/blueparadis

Things You Can Do With Your Hands - Dabi x f!reader - @/fuwushiguro

My One, My Only - Shoji x f!reader - @/anime-nymph

dc submissions

The Man of Your Dreams - Incubus!Dabi x f!reader - @/anime-nymph

Don’t Be Shy - Overhaul x f!reader - @martellprincess-writes