dude, being addicted to fanfiction is so weird. You stay in front of your computer for hours a day reading different versions of those same characters falling in love and screwing again, again, again and again. And yet, we’re looking for more, creating more, making fanarts because, apparently, nothing in the world is more fulfilling than fictional love, the love we cannot have. That’s either inspiring or unsettling. Or both.
well… I was seeing a lot of Manka on my dash and I thought I may as well contibute… so here’s some shirtless, injured, Male!Maka.
Oh wow my kissing booth au got way more notes than I ever hoped for holy shit
I hate it when you are having a bad day and everyone takes it personally, like no i hate myself, not you. get the fuck over yourself.
In celebration of hitting 45k posts for this blog, I wrote a SoMa fic based on this prompt (not the best but I wanted this milestone to be SoMa because of reasons). Although, I did alter it a little and made MMA fighting because I’m more familiar with that, but still martial arts….with more gore.
Soul loved being on the mixed martial arts team at Death Academy mostly because it pissed his parents off to no end. They didn’t like that he busted the fuck out of his hands or that he’d seen the inside of a hospital more often than the inside of a music hall in the past year. But he couldn’t really give a fuck what they thought about him. It was the best way to get his anger and frustration out without harming those said parents, who were the main cause of his issues. Truthfully, the only person in his family who understood this problem was Wes, the only family member who seemed to show for every one of his matches.
Another perk to being on his schools MMA team was that he could see his girlfriend, Maka Albarn, when they went against their rival school, Death High. Of course, none of this friends or teammates knew about their relationship - he would rather die before telling them - but that still didn’t stop them from seeing each other. She was one of the best MMA fighters for Death High and he didn’t really have to worry about her when she went to matches. A majority of the fighters who went up against were male and for some reason they went easy on her - which Maka always complained about during their makeout sessions after those matches.
But Maka was a strong fighter, she could hold her own against any of Soul’s teammates, and she was always able to overpower him when they fought over the remote at his house. He only wished the others could see that. Instead, they bashed on her, complaining about a girl being allowed to even fight amongst them. If he could only talk about her in a more positive light, then maybe they would all be able to understand that she wasn’t the small, fragile girl they believed her to be. But he couldn’t. His school and her’s were rivals. They’d been rivals since the seventies, and none of that was going to change anytime soon.
For now, he would just enjoy their makeout sessions in the janitor’s closet…that is, he would if she could learn to shut up.
“I just don’t understand why everyone on your damn team feel they need to go easy on me. Is it because I’m a girl? It’s not like my chest is going to get in the way or anything. I mean you’ve even told me I was flat chested.”
“Maka, we were in middle school when I told you that. It doesn’t really apply anymore.” He gently squeezed her chest to emphasize his point. “Now, can you you please shut the fuck up? I thought most people enjoyed having their neck kissed.”
“I do like it, you know I do, but I’m just…”
“Yeah, I know. But do ya think you can at least forget about that and pay attention to me for a while?” He smirked at the small pout she gave him.
“Why do we always have to do things your way?”
“You can complain when I call you later on.”
“But by then-”
He cut her off by cupping his hands around her face and kissing her. Opening his mouth slightly, he took her bottom lip between his, nibbling on the flesh as she pressed her body against his and threaded her hands through his hair. He felt the heat rise in his lower abdomen, and the effect her actions were doing to him in the nether regions was nerve wracking. He would love to go further with her, but they weren’t at that point in their relationship yet so he moved his hips away from. However, she only moved forward, pushing herself onto him.
Soul broke away from their kiss, giving her a questioning look. “What are you doing?”
“We have time,” she said breathlessly. She removed her hands from his hair and placed them on his hips, holding him against her with a little more force than was necessary.
“You sure? Here?” They were in a janitor’s closet for fuck’s sake.
But she nodded. “Mhm. I’m on the pill so we’re okay there.”
He shrugged and did as she wanted, what they both wanted, even if it meant their first time was in the janitor’s closet at her high school. But they never were the kind of couple that did things by the book, anyways.