#And I STILL have that hoodie by the way. As much as I'm supposed to hate the band now I can't.

[iero]

Genuinely what is with all these artists/bands merch being sold for so much nowadays? I don’t even mean resellers here, I mean merch prices in their actual online shop have gone up so much... 

[elllisaaa]

THINK AABOUT THIS

horny bsfheeseung who can't control himself when he's with you and eventually ends up fucking you on a rainy night

i'm thinking about it yes, because imagine HORNY BSF!HEESEUNG who was only supposed to come spend the afternoon at your place and watch a film with you. it was a cold day, so you were wearing a hoodie three times too big for you, some shorts and your warmest socks. you had already set up the couch - cozy blankets prepared for you, snacks and drinks scattered all over your table. and you were just so excited about finally spending time with him that heeseung felt really guilty about the way he couldn't help feeling hot under the collar when you hugged him and dragged him to the couch, snuggling up against him because you were freezing.

you put on the film, but heeseung cannot focus on it at all. everytime he tries to look at the tv screen, his eyes are drawn back to you - to your pretty face, pretty eyes, and pretty lips that he's dying to kiss. he's not usually this bothered around you, he has self-control, but there's just something about you today and the way your scent intoxicates him more than usual that makes him hard in his sweatpants. but it's okay, heeseung thinks, he just has to go through the movie without being suspicious and then he can go home.

wrong. not even halfway through the film, rain starts pouring outside. and it doesn't seem to stop. its raining so much that when the movie ends, you decide that it's too dangerous for heeseung to take his car to go home now. "but it's okay, you sleep here." and heeseung wants to say no, because he knows that if he stays in your presence one more minute, he's going to lose control. but you're actually right, he cannot drive in this weather.

so heeseung tries to not look at your ass too much as you bend down to get him another pillow so he can sleep on your couch comfortably. and he tries to not get distracted by the way he can still see the outline of your boobs, even under your oversized sweater. it's hard - and he's very hard by now - but he really tries. he's aware you're just being sweet, he's aware that you're not feeling the same as him, he's aware that he's being pathetic, but just cannot stop himself when you bend down again in your tight shorts to pick up a pack of gummies that fell to the floor.

"fuck, y/n, can you stop doing this ?" you turn around, the bag of candies in your hands and a clueless look on your face as you plant your innocent gaze into heeseung's lustful one. "stop doing what hee ?" - "bending over like this, showing me your pretty ass. that is if you don't want me to fuck you, baby." he eats up the way your cheeks immediately grow red, mouth opening and closing without knowing what to say anymore. the smirk on his face widens as he gets closer and you don't back out, dropping back the sweets once he wraps his arms around your waist. "so, what do you say ?" his lips are brushing against yours with how close he is, but you don't mind it, you just him to kiss you now. "yes, please."

heeseung doesn't waste any more time talking before he grabs you by your neck to pull in a kiss that leaves dazed, your mind blank, breath short from how good his tongue alone makes you feel. he chuckles when you chase his lips, fists closing around the fabric of his tee. "you want more ?" - "heeseung, please, don't tease me… i've waited for this long enough." the realization that you had been wanting just as bad is what sends heeseung far away, too far away to have control over himself anymore. "shit, i'm sorry princess, i'm gonna make it up, yeah ?" you nod and the next thing you know is that heeseung has you bend over for him on the couch, your shorts and underwear pulled down just enough so that he can push his cock inside of you.

"feeling so good baby, knew you would, i knew you would be perfect for me." you only moan louder at his words, trying to keep a bit of sanity as heeseung pounds into you like an animal. but in the end you don't mind the way his hand presses against your lower back, under your hoodie that he didn't take the time to throw away, forcing your back to arch even more, his cock hitting even deeper into you. "hee ! i'm close, i'm close please…" - "gonna make you cum all over my dick and then fill you up. everybody's gonna know you're mine this way."

and you don't deny, because in the end that's what you want. as you come down from your high, slowly opening your eyes that fall on the raindrops hitting your windows, you wonder if he really means it. "shit… you're still so tight baby, makes me want to fuck you again." you only whine at his words, letting him grab your hair and yank your head back. and you don't dare ask him what's gonna happen after, you just want to enjoy the way he's making you feel a little longer.

[thewitchblue]

"Do you mind if I sit there?"

You ask Damian innocently while gesturing to his lap. Damian raised a confused eyebrow at you. He was lounging on the couch of your apartment after breaking in despite him having a key. He said in confusion,

"That's my lap, beloved."

You give an acknowledging hum before saying,

"That's not an answer, lovebird."

Damian blushes but quickly looks away while murmuring,

"You...I...I suppose you may..."

You happily make your way to him and lie gently on top of him to feel his warm body against yours and close your eyes with a content smile, finally content in his lap. He slowly snakes his arms around your waist, shifting slightly to make you both more comfortable. You kiss his flustered cheeks with a soft smile on your face.

"Is this payback for breaking in instead of using the spare key you gave me?"

He asks after a moment of silence. Clearly, his brain was trying to wrap around why you suddenly wanted to lie on top of him. You shake your head with a fond smile on your face.

"You're more comfortable than the couch. I swear it's like your body heat is a heated blanket or a hot water bottle."

You look up to look at his face only to meet your very confused and very flustered boyfriend. You lightly kiss his chest before going back to cuddling him.

"I didn't realise you were cold. I would've given one of the hoodies you stole from me or a blanket."

You kiss his shoulder gently. You can tell that he's still getting used to the physical contact, but you're determined and patient.

"Am I not allowed to want to be in the arms of my darling boyfriend?"

You question with raised eyebrows. He blinked rapidly, as if he didn't expect that answer. It breaks your heart to think about all those years he lived without such love that he now overthinks every time you hold his hand or hug him. He continues inquisitively,

"Beloved, you have never once asked if you can lie on top of me."

You laugh, which makes his arms wrap tighter around you. Your hands rest on his chest as you relax against him. You admit softly,

"I like listening to your heartbeat. It's soothing, especially when I get anxious or stressed."

His hand traces patterns on your back while he kisses the top of your head. He asked,

"Did you have a stressful day?"

His concern melted your heart further. You shake my head, placing kisses along his collarbone.

"Despite finding out someone broke into my home only to discover it was my own boyfriend? Not really."

He clicks his tongue but gives into his laughter once yours starts. It's ridiculous, really, how cute he is. You softly say,

"You're so cute, lovebird."

His green eyes seem to gleam like emeralds in the warm lighting as he looks down at you. There was so much unfiltered love and adoration on his face that it leaves you breathless. He pouts, simply replying,

"Cute? I'm a trained assassin turned vigilante."

You click your tongue. You sarcastically reply,

"Oh yes, you have me quaking in fear."

His laughter rings through the otherwise silent apartment with your own laughter following shortly after. He gently flickers your nose with his fingers, making you bite said fingers lightly.

"I have taken down Superman by myself. You have every right to fear me."

You huff an amused laugh. Your eyelids are already starting to grow heavy as his warmth seems to be all-encompassing. It doesn't escape you that you're in probably the safest pair of arms in all of Gothem.

"Are you sleeping over, lovebird?"

You ask while you trace slow patterns on his chest, trying desperately to stay awake despite his calm heartbeat luring you closer and closer to sleep. His hum rumbles through his chest. You can tell he's torn between going back to the manor or staying the night with you. You are still a secret from his family. After a moment, he compromises,

"I'll stay until you fall asleep, beloved."

Pouting, you accept what you can get. You know his hero responsibilities call to him, but it was nice to have some time, just the two of you.

"I love you, Dami..."

You murmur, sleep slowly taking hold of you.

"I love you too, my treasure."

He whispers back to you as he runs his fingers through your hair. You soon subcome to sleep, knowing you're safe in the arms of your vigilante boyfriend.

[tthoroughfare]

kerosene // ellie williams

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: the setup of a slow burn between you and ellie.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: jackson!ellie x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: sfw

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 1.7k

so... this actually started out as NOTHING. i planned for it to be nothing. just me, my pages app and my love for jackson!ellie & that fuck ass hoodie against the world. howeverrrr i may or may not have written almost 10k so far that i'm planning to split up (and continue) into an ongoing series just focusing on you and ellie living in jackson, spending time with your friends, slowly falling in love. real piners rise

god i just love jackson ellie so much. her little nerdy cocky self

the idea of being friends and pining over each other for literal years because you’re both too scared to say anything… catching the other staring, having a few little moments here and there but chalking it up to nothing because you both don’t believe the other would see you like that.

and then she starts dating cat and you’re just like welp. guess this is really never ever gonna happen after all. you let yourself mope for a while, not wanting to go out as much for fear of seeing them together and feeling that strange pang in your chest — just overall being weird and avoiding ellie. you feel silly, really, locking yourself away and listening to sad music over someone you were never even with.

you selfishly hope it doesn’t last long, that it’s just a fling, but when months go by and they’re still together, you come to some sort of acceptance. you even date someone else for a short while to try and take your mind off of her, but quickly realize you’re just searching for scattered parts of her in someone else. and something in your gut tells you that while nothing’s wrong within the relationship, it just doesn’t feel right. doesn’t feel like it’s supposed to.

meanwhile, ellie’s mindset was that she never really saw you as attainable in the first place. and she did genuinely really like cat, so when she initiated the relationship, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t excited to see where it went. you were always at the back of her mind, though. she didn’t like the way you’d distanced yourself. you were never best friends, but definitely fairly close. she felt the switch almost overnight, the way you stopped going out of your way to talk to her, stopped asking her to tag along when you'd hang out with jesse and dina. she didn’t know what your deal was. the thought that you might be jealous did cross her mind, but she quickly swatted it away. why would you be jealous? it’s only her.

when you started seeing someone yourself, it was like confirmation. nothing was ever gonna happen, you weren’t jealous; how could any of that be the case when you were right there, with someone else? she cursed herself for even thinking about any of it, guilty conscience thick when her mind would then turn to cat. she knew she shouldn’t be deliberating whether you were jealous, whether you liked her, whether anything could ever happen between you, when she had a girlfriend.

she tried her hardest to push you out of her mind whenever you’d arise. she still saw you around, sometimes alone, sometimes with your girlfriend. you’d talk pleasantly, share a few laughs, but it wasn’t like it used to be.

and then one day, when she’s on her way home, she sees you by yourself. you’re sitting under a tree reading, headphones in. she can’t help but notice you look a little melancholy, like you don’t want to be bothered. she deliberates on whether to disturb you or not, stopping, then going to walk away, then stopping again. against her better judgement, she wanders over to you and nudges you gently with the side of her foot.

you look up, offering a small smile and tugging your headphones out. “hey.”

“hey.” ellie mirrors you, shooting back a soft smile of her own. a beat of slightly awkward silence passes as she tries to think of the reason she actually came over. she doesn’t even have one.

“what’s up?” you ask after a few seconds.

“uh… not much. just… uh… wanted to say hi.”

the corner of your mouth quirks into a slight smirk. “well… you just did.”

ellie breathes out a quiet chuckle, bringing her hands together to mess with her fingers. “very funny.” she pauses, then hesitantly crouches and sits beside you. “whatcha reading?”

you turn the cover so that she can see it. “mystery book,” you say, eyes flitting between ellie and the novel, before you rest it back in your lap, starting to lightly read again.

“you want me to tell you who the killer is?”

you chuckle, looking back up at ellie. “sure, take a stab at it.”

ellie’s eyebrows raise slightly. “pun intended?”

you tilt your head, raising an eyebrow as you realize what you just said. “nope. guess i’m just too witty.”

she looks down and smiles lightly, before looking up at the sky in feigned thought. she clicks her fingers. “it’s the priest.”

you let out a laugh. “there isn’t even a priest in it.”

“that’s what you think,” she quips back, feigning seriousness. “he will be introduced in… 43 pages.”

you roll your eyes, unable to hold back a smile. “shut up.”

“nope. wanna hear some more of my predictions? 100% accuracy guaranteed.”

“sure.”

“… you’re in a shitty mood,” ellie says matter-of-factly, before her voice softens. “seriously, you good? you look all…”

she trails off, gesturing at you slightly.

you chew at the inside of your cheek. truth be told, you are in a shitty mood, but you didn’t realize it was visible. plus, you don’t really want to talk about it. especially not to ellie, of all people. “yeah, nah, i’m fine.”

she just gives you a look in reply — one to say, ‘i’m not stupid’. to which, you let out a small sigh and shake your head. you’re not good at lying to ellie. “okay, i guess i may be in a… tiny bit of a slump.”

she shuffles a bit, leaning back on her hands. “why? what’s wrong?”

you pick at your nail, pausing. “i don’t know, man. just… yeah. stuff.”

“what kinda stuff?”

you curse her in your head for pushing, but simultaneously feel a pulse in your chest that she cares. you don’t particularly want to talk to ellie about your relationship. or lack thereof. it feels embarrassing, for some reason. in the end, you let out a small, defeated sigh. “ugh. just… so… i’m not with you-know-who anymore.”

ellie raises her eyebrows, trying to ignore the way she feels selfish relief. “damn. that sucks.”

you shrug. “i suppose so.”

another awkward pause occurs as ellie tries to think of what to say. comforting people has never really been her forte, but she wants to try for you. plus, she’s curious. “…wh-what happened?”

you look up, eyes flitting around the scenery, pulling a small face as you think. “nothing, really. just… wasn’t working. like… didn’t really feel right, y’know?”

she quirks an eyebrow, looking sideways at you. “so it was you, huh?”

you let out something between a breathed out chuckle and a groan. “…yeah. i felt really mean.”

“damn. you’re ruthless. heartbreaker,” she teases deadpan in response, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

to which, you roll your eyes and snicker, the smile lingering on your face. even in the worst mood, you’d noticed, ellie could always make you laugh somehow. “shut up. it wasn’t like that.”

“then what was it like?”

you shrug lightly, toying with the cover of your book. “i don’t know. went as best as it could, i suppose. i have nothing against her, nothing happened, it just… yeah. like i said. wasn’t right.”

ellie hums in acknowledgment, looking away in thought. her silence feels a little uncomfortable, driving you to babble on. “i don’t know, she’s nice and everything, but it just felt like we were kind of… wasting each other’s time. i didn’t see it actually going anywhere. i know we’re still young, and… y’know, it’s hardly like we have to marry each other or whatever. but something just felt missing. i don’t know.”

you glance at ellie briefly, then back down at your book, tracing the cover art with your fingertip. “like… you and cat. you guys seem happy. what does that feel like?”

she feels a little taken off guard. she’s not used to talking about this with anyone; anyway, nobody’s ever really asked. she shifts, sitting cross legged and leaning her forearms on her thighs, messing with her hands. “uh… i don’t know. i haven’t really thought about it.”

you furrow your eyebrows slightly. not really the reaction you were expecting. “oof. what does that mean?”

ellie lets out a drawn out hum, wrinkling her chin. “… i don’t know. i suppose it just feels… hm. it’s just… what it is. i guess.”

you pull a face, blowing air through your nose. “wow. don’t get too sappy on me, now. you’re gushing.”

her eyes roll in response to your sarcasm, a lopsided smirk on her face. “shut up.”

you mirror her smile, meeting her eyes for a few seconds, trying to shove down the way it burns a hole through you, makes your chest feel like it’s constricting.

the moment is broken by a call of ellie’s name. you both automatically look up, spotting cat strolling over with a bright smile on her face. 

“speak of the devil,” you murmur jokingly, turning to look back at ellie briefly.

she scoffs in response, moving to stand up. when cat presses a small kiss to her lips in greeting, resting a hand on her arm, you avert your eyes.

cat looks down at you, offering a soft smile and a wave. “hey.”

“hey,” you reply, looking back up. you did really like cat. you weren’t necessarily friends, but she was cool, and funny, and always nice to you. you flit your eyes between her and ellie as she turns back, addressing her girlfriend.

“i was on my way to yours. we still watching a movie tonight?”

ellie looks down at you, then back at cat, an unreadable expression on her face. “uh… yeah, yeah. for sure.”

cat smiles at ellie, taking her hand and lightly swinging it between them. “… well, we’ll leave you to it,” she says to you.

you nod slowly. “yup. catch you two later.”

you wave half-heartedly at them both as they walk away hand-in-hand, free hands returning the gesture. you busy yourself with putting your headphones back in and choosing a new song, but if you were looking up, you’d have seen ellie look back at you. twice.

[stardustsymphony]

scar-mates || mattheo riddle

warning: smoking, burning.

a/n: i'm supposed to be studying for the exam i have in four hours and i have my book open in front of me but haven't even started studying yet so i hope y'all appreciate this cause i quite literally risked my future to write this. and please tell me y'all know that ‘sprinkle ✨ sprinkle ✨’ girl from instagram who makes reels about dark romance books mostly and she usually wears that soft, oversized pink blanket-like hoodie (or was it something else?). this one shot is inspired by one of her reel about a dark-romance book, i forgot the name.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧ ♕♛♕ ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

“You’re like a drug.” Mattheo said, playing with your fingers. His brown eyes flickered to lock with yours, a mischievous glint in them that made your heart do flips. 

“Drugs are dangerous.”

“So are you.” 

The soft melody of rain echoed in the room, the distant sound of thunder adding in to the comfort. You snuggled close to Mattheo as a shiver ran down your spine because of the chilly room. Noticing this, he pulled you closer, your head against his chest and his heartbeat under your ear making you relax into his arms each passing second. 

“Stop snuggling so much to me,” he said –but his voice was filled with playful sarcasm. He pulled up the thick blanket all the way up to your shoulder, pressing his lips against the crown of your head. 

You lazily smiled up at him. “Stop being so warm then.” 

“I prefer the term ‘hot’, darling.” he winked at you. 

You rolled your eyes, a slight smile on your lips, as he took out a cigarette and placed it between his lips, lighting it. 

“You're smoking here?” you asked, he hardly ever smokes in front of you, let alone when both are cuddling. 

“Can't leave my girl alone to shiver, now, can I?” 

Your stomach flutters at his words –‘my girl’. Oh, how you loved whenever he said stuff like that, and he was well aware of the effect his words have on you, judging by his smirk hidden behind his cigarette. 

A comforting silence washed over you both as you both occasionally mumbled sweet nothings to each other, softly kissing each other between whispered words and giggles. 

It was moments like this that made you forget about everything, all the rumours that surrounded him, the different ways people had said he would break your heart. You never doubted your love for him for even a second, but there was still some time when you wondered if the rumours that surrounded him were true. 

Your relationship was not perfect, of course, it was filled with ups and downs. You never appreciated those ‘downs’, but your sister had always told you that ‘downs’ in a relationship was just as important as ‘ups’. She said she always reminds herself of this whenever she and her boyfriend go through a rocky phase, and next month, they will be getting married. 

“What are you thinking about?” Mattheo inhaled some smoke, kept it in his mouth, then exhaled it in rings. 

“My sister and her boyfriend.”

“They're getting married next month, no?” 

“Yeah,” you looked at him and brushed some of his hair from his forehead. “You've invited, by the way.” 

“I would have crashed the wedding if you hadn't invited me.” 

You snorted. “Of course you would've.” 

There was a moment of silence, then he asked. “What's he like? Your sister's boyfriend, I mean.” 

“He's nice, he used to buy me toys when I was young and sneak me out for lunch whenever I used to feel sad.” You smiled as you remember the time with your sister's boyfriend, Mick. He truly was like an older brother to you. 

“How did they meet?” 

“They're high school sweethearts.”

Mattheo gave you a slightly surprised glance. “That young, huh? You like talking about them, no?” He added when he saw your expression. 

“I can't help it,” you shrugged. “They're just so disgustingly in love, it's so sweet. Mick used to tell me he knew my sister was the one the moment they both met, like love at first sight. My sister tells me they both are scar-mates.” 

“Scar-mates?” Mattheo asked. “What's that?” 

“When my sister was young, she fell from the stairs and got a scar on her elbow. Mick has a scar on his elbow too, she used to tell me that if you have a scar somewhere, your soulmate would have one in the exact same place as well. She used to call them scar-mates.” 

“That's…dumb. And sweet.” He added hastily when he saw your expression flicker. “But you don't believe that, do you?” 

“I do, actually,” you said awkwardly, grinning a bit. “I've been hearing it since I was a child, so it's hard not to.” 

He gave you a look that looked like a mix of amusement and sarcasm. 

“In fact,” you continued, pushing down the shoulder of your sweatshirt and tilting your head to show him your collarbone. “I do have one scar here. It's when I fell from the swings in the backyard.” 

His eyes fell down at your collarbone, taking in the age old scar there. His fingers lightly brushed against it and you shivered. Then, as if you couldn't help yourself, you asked,

“Do you have any scars?” 

Mattheo didn't answer immediately, just brushed his fingers against your scar once more. Just when you thought he wouldn't answer at all, he sat straight and opened his shirt. 

It took all your willpower not to shamelessly stare at him. 

“Yeah, I do actually.” he said, taking his second cigarette out of his mouth and exhaling slowly, keeping his eyes on your face. And before you could react or ask him anything, he twisted his cigarette around and pressed it against his own collarbone, on the exact same spot where you had your scar. 

You gasped, horrified, and pulled his hand away and threw away his cigarette, not caring where it landed in the room. 

“What are you doing?!” you shrieked. 

Mattheo’s eyes never left your face, his expression not giving away anything as he held your chin gently, tilting your head to make you look at him.

“Scar-mates.” he said softly before leaning down to press his lips against the scar on your collarbone.

[angelbaby191]

Okay I have a request and this is my first one. But can u possibly do one with bakugo with reader who goes like nonverbal..and so they point at things or make very expressive body movements to ask for what they want? I don't really mind what type of plot u do with this Even if you don't do this request THANK YOU SM!

OMG, this is adorbs!! Of course I can!! Thank you for the request!! As much as this is your first time asking, this is my first time answering one!! So I really hope you enjoy this!! (It's kinda rushed, I had class in 10 minutes when I wrote it) Ah!! I'm so excited, here you go!!

_________________________________________________

When You're Ready

Bakugo x Non-Verbal! Reader

The soft, rhythmic tapping of your fingers against your phone screen was the only sound in the dimly lit room, save for the occasional sigh that escaped your lips. You were curled up in your favorite spot, the giant bean bag chair in the corner of your dorm room. It had always been a sanctuary, a place where you could hide away from the pressures of the world, especially after a difficult day. But today, something felt off. The dull ache in your chest wasn’t from physical exhaustion; it was something deeper, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

The incident in training had been small, insignificant even, but it triggered something. Something that made your breath quicken and your hands tremble, but you kept your eyes on your phone, pretending like everything was fine. You could hear Aoyama's voice echoing in your head, the way he’d told Bakugo about what happened. You could almost hear the concern in his voice.

It didn’t take long before Bakugo barged through the door. You didn’t even have time to react before his heavy footsteps pounded across the floor, his usual intense energy filling the room. But this time, there was something different in his expression—something frantic beneath the usual fiery exterior.

“Oi, dumbass, ya good?” His voice was rough, but you could hear the underlying concern, even if he refused to admit it.

You didn’t answer immediately, your thumb still scrolling absentmindedly on your screen. The silence between you two stretched, and Bakugo’s sharp eyes flickered across the room, landing on you. His gaze softened for a split second when he saw the way you were curled into the bean bag chair, small, vulnerable.

Then, his eyes locked on something else: the hoodie you were wearing. His hoodie. The one you had "borrowed" from him a while back and never returned. The one that was now swallowed by your frame, the sleeves hanging past your hands, and the fabric sagging off your shoulders.

Something about the sight of you in it, wrapped up in the warmth of something that was his, caused a strange lump to form in his throat. He cleared his throat and took a step closer, medical kit in hand, the usual bravado he carried with him faltering.

“Yer not foolin' anyone,” he muttered, his voice rougher than usual. “I know somethin’ happened. Sparkly-shit told me.”

You flinched, the mention of the incident making your chest tighten again. You were supposed to be fine. It wasn’t supposed to affect you like this. But it did, and now, here he was, standing in front of you like some overbearing volcano.

When you didn’t answer, Bakugo’s eyes softened just a fraction more, and he dropped the medical kit onto the nearby table. His hands hovered awkwardly, like he didn’t know how to help, but he was determined to.

He watched as you shook your head slowly, a tiny, silent rejection of the world around you. Then, you shrugged, your gaze flicking to the side to avoid his. It was like you were trying to disappear into the chair. Bakugo’s chest tightened as he realized what was happening—you were shutting down, going non-verbal, and he could see it now. Your body was tense, your eyes glossed over, and the small, fragile walls you’d built around yourself were already in place.

“Oi.” His voice was softer this time, almost a whisper, but still laced with a hard edge. “Move over. Imma sit with ya”

You hesitated for a moment, but then, without looking at him, you made room for him to settle behind you. Bakugo didn’t need any more invitation. He sat down, the air in the room shifting as he pressed his back against the soft cushion of the chair, his chest just brushing against your back.

For a moment, everything was still, the only sound being the soft rhythm of his breathing behind you. Your heartbeat slowly began to even out, the tension in your body beginning to fade. His presence—always so forceful and loud—was different now. It wasn’t demanding. It wasn’t trying to fix you. It was just there, steady and grounding.

He leaned in slightly, his lips near your ear, the faintest warmth from his breath making your skin tingle. “Ya don’t have to tell me what’s up right now,” he murmured, his voice quiet and steady, but laced with that signature Bakugo tenderness you didn’t expect. “Ya can tell me later. When you’re ready, dumbass.”

A small, quiet breath escaped you, the weight in your chest lifting just a little as his words settled over you. He wasn’t pushing, wasn’t forcing you to open up. He was just there, offering his presence in the only way he knew how.

You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t need to. His chest against your back, the warmth of the hoodie, the familiar scent of him—it was enough to start unraveling the tension that had built up inside you all day.

For now, that was all you needed. And Bakugo? He was content to stay there with you, letting you take your time.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (34/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The boat that's actually a yacht - and it's just the two of you.

Warnings: fluff, minimal angst, Google translated French, no knowledge of boats

Word Count: 3.9k

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A/N: we're back bitches!!! love you. feedback is appreciated!

"What do we need?" you ask, taking a sip of your coffee. "Apart from Kika's spontaneous photos, I've only taken pictures of inanimate objects so far. And the one of you."

Charles shrugs his shoulders. "When Joris and I take photos together, we'll pack a bag of different clothes." When you raise an eyebrow in confusion, Charles purses his lips. "We always take several photos, for several posts. If we don't have time to take new pictures, we always have some in stock that we can use without them looking like old pictures."

"Okay." You put your mug down on the work surface in front of you. "Anything else?"

Your roommate grins. "Your camera."

"Haha." You toss it off with a kitchen towel. "I mean, do you need anything else in the way of props or anything?"

He shakes his head. "Actually, no. Everything you could possibly need for a photo shoot is already on the boat." He nods towards the hallway. "You just need long clothes in case it gets colder later."

You nod. "All right. Then you pack a bag with the things you need and I'll pack one with clothes I can wear if it gets cold later." You walk around the kitchen island towards the hallway. 

"And don't forget your camera." You can even hear the smirk, which is why you give him the middle finger without turning around. 

As you stand in your room, you don't really know what to pack. 

Although it's supposed to be twenty degrees outside - which sounds totally surreal for a day before Christmas - your weather app tells you that it's going to be almost three degrees at night. 

"How long are we staying on the boat?" you shout loudly so that Charles can hear you. You throw a large bag on the bed. 

"No idea," says Charles calmly. When you turn around, he's standing in the doorway. "You and I can leave after the pictures. Or stay there all day. Or the night." He shrugs his shoulders. "There's no time when the boat has to be back in port."

You sigh. "I'm afraid that doesn't help me much." You point to the bag on the bed. "I can't pack my entire closet, Charles. Tell me what to pack." You look at him pleadingly. 

"All right." He enters your bedroom and looks around before reaching for some clothes lying on the floor. "Here, the sweatpants are good. If you want to lie out on the sun bed in the evening, you'll need these." He tosses them to you. You catch them and fold them up to stow them neatly in your bag. "Do you have comfy socks or something?" 

"Ehm, yeah," you say, pulling some out of the pile of clothes Kika left there and tucking them into the side pocket of the bag.

Charles kneels down on the floor and sifts through the pile at your feet. "You'll definitely need a thick sweater. It's going to be pretty windy when we're out at sea." He rummages around in your clothes until he fishes out a black sweater and holds it out to you. "Tada."

The first thing you notice about the sweater is that it's not yours. The black hoodie is too big to be yours. The second thing you notice about it is that it's the sweater Charles gave you the night you went to your favorite place. 

The night Charles showed you his talent on the piano. The night you almost kissed. It feels like it was a lifetime ago. 

You can't tell Charles that you don't want to wear the sweater, even though it's incredibly comfortable. It certainly still smells like Charles, although perhaps not as strongly - after all, he hasn't worn it for days. You don't want to be wrapped up in his scent and be at risk of getting weak. The distance that needs to exist between you is the right thing to do. 

Charles looks at you questioningly from the floor and you realize you've already hesitated too long.

"That - that's not my sweater," you simply say. 

Your friend examines the sweater in his hand. "Really?" he asks, confused, smelling the collar. "But it smells like you."

You shake your head. "That's yours. You - uh - you lent it to me when we went to petits mondes," you explain as he folds the fabric and puts it to one side. 

"Oh. Right." He looks at the sweater before his gaze lands on you again. "You can keep it if you want."

You wave it off. "It's all right. Thanks for letting me borrow it. But it's yours after all, so..." You step nervously from one foot to the other. 

Charles watches you for a moment and then turns away. "All right, then. How about this one then?" He pulls another sweater out of the pile of laundry. This time it's actually yours. It's white, with red stripes on it and the collar reaches up to your chin. You definitely won't catch a cold in this. 

"It's good," you reply with a smile and catch it as he throws it to you. You fold it before putting it in your pocket as well. "What about your clothes? Do you want them in the bag too?" you ask him, hoping that he will take his clothes separately and not infect your clothes with his smell. 

Charles gets up from the floor. "I'll pack my own bag. You still have to pack your camera," he smiles, patting non-existent dust off his pants. "About the trip to the port..." he begins, rubbing the back of his neck. 

You grab your camera bag and stow it next to your clothes in your bag. Hopefully the spare battery is charged. "Hmm?"

"I suggest we take your car and I'll drop you off. Then you won't have to walk far to get to the boat," he explains. "I'll park your car in a side street and then join you. Then we won't be seen together."

You look at him, confused. "Can people just get on your boat like that? Aren't you afraid that some crazy fans will suddenly come out of - I don't know - your cabin?"

Charles has to smile. "Someone will be waiting for you there. They'll let you on the boat."

Embarrassed, you curl your lips into a thin line. Of course there's someone at the docks to make sure no one sneaks onto strangers' boats. "Okay."

You stand opposite each other, undecided, until Charles takes the first step. "I'll just pack my bag and then we can go." Smiling, he disappears from your bedroom. 

While Charles stuffs everything he can find into a bag, you gather some snacks in the kitchen to take with you on the boat. Charles has hinted that there would be a cook on site, but you might not be there for too long, so a proper meal wouldn't be worth it. 

As you prepare some sandwiches and put them in a bag, Charles appears behind you. "Are you ready?" he asks, leaning on the kitchen island. 

"Yep," you reply and place a few small bottles of water next to the sandwiches. When you look at Charles, he grins. "What is it?"

"Nothing." His grin almost reaches his ears. "There's water on the boat too, you know."

You roll your eyes. "I've never been on a boat before." 

Charles raises his eyebrows briefly before shrugging his shoulders. "It's not as special as you make it out to be."

You squint your eyes a little. "Only rich people say that."

He tilts his head. "Do you want to go on the boat or not?"

"Like I said," you start the sentence and grab the snacks, "only if I can steer it once."

Charles reaches for the keys to your Renault. "Don't you dare crash it," he warns you as you walk towards the elevator. He presses the button and a short time later the doors open. "That boat was expensive."

"Don't worry," you try to reassure him. "I'll just hold the wheel firmly and steer straight ahead." You wink at him and step into the elevator. 

Charles has to smile and follows you. "I think I'll only let you take the wheel on the open sea. There's much less risk of you ramming other boats."

"You have a lot of faith in me," you say with mock hurt and put your hand on your chest. 

"I do," he says seriously. "I'd trust you with my life."

-

You walk uncertainly around the various walkways. 

Before you got out of the car, Charles said there would be a man standing in front of his boat to help you find it. You would also have to say a password so that you would be granted access to Charles' boat. 

"For security," he explained. "We don't want everyone to get on the boat."

With your two bags on your shoulders, you walk past a few boats that certainly cost more than you'll ever earn. But nowhere is there a man to signal that you are in the right place. 

There are a few people at the harbor, but no one pays you any attention. They are chatting with friends, frolicking on boats and enjoying the warmth of the sun one last time before the year is over and winter finally sets in. You walk past them with your head down. 

Cautiously and indecisively, you walk on and the boats become yachts on which great parties are sure to take place in summer. They are big and nice and you wonder whether you should google one of the types to find out what price range the yachts of the rich and famous are in. 

You are torn from your thoughts by a man. "Madame? Vous cherchez quelque chose?" are you looking for something? 

Somewhat taken by surprise, you stop. You are standing in front of a large, white yacht. With its two floors, it towers above its neighbors by quite a bit. 

"Uhm," you look at the man uncertainly. "Je cherche le bateau d'un ami," you explain. I'm looking for my friends boat. 

The man raises an eyebrow as if he's wondering what you're doing here. Your uncertainty and searching eyes probably made you stand out immediately. You don't fit in here, that's for sure. 

When the man doesn't answer, you try the password Charles told you. "Chicken?" you ask uncertainly, but when the man smiles at you and reaches for your pockets, you exhale with relief. 

You've found the boat. Thank goodness. 

The man helps you onto the yacht and leads you past the sun bed into the interior, which is much bigger than you imagined, and places your bags on a couch. A couch. On a boat. How crazy. 

"Voulez-vous boire quelque chose?" would you like something to drink? He smiles kindly at you. 

"Non, merci," you thank him and look around. On the floor, next to a couch and a small bar, is the steering wheel, which you hope you'll be able to take the plunge on later. To the right, a staircase leads down to the lower floor, where there are not just one, but three bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen. 

Astonished, you run your fingers over one of the large beds. The fabric is soft and pleasant against your skin and you can almost imagine how comfortable the bed would be if you snuggled up there after a day in the sun. 

"I was worried for a moment that you wouldn't find my boat." 

As you turn around, Charles is standing at the foot of the stairs, watching you. Without further ado, you sit down on the bed behind you. "I was looking for a boat too. Not a castle on the water."

He has to grin. "The boat is still relatively small compared to the ones that dock here in the harbor in summer."

You raise an eyebrow. "Really?"

He takes a step towards you. "Really. I'm the outsider with my little boat. There's nothing under five stories." He bites the inside of his cheek. "How do you like my boat?"

You nod. "Your yacht is really nice." You grin at him and take a look at the bed you're on. "But why do you need so much space at sea?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "I usually spend the summer break here with my family. Not all of the time, of course, but when we go out on it, it's quite a few days. And I'll be damned if I'm going to share a bed with Arthur."

You try to suppress your grin, but unfortunately you don't succeed. "Why? Does he kick while he sleeps?"

"No," says Charles, leaning against the bed at a little distance from you. "But he used to steal the blanket in the past and then I had to freeze all night."

You raise an eyebrow. "Couldn't you have just fought for it?"

"Believe me when I tell you I tried several times," he rubs the back of his neck with his hand. "He practically wraps himself up like a burrito and when that happens, you've lost."

"Then I know who I'd never share a bed with," you joke, but Charles looks a little more serious.

"I hope so." Before the mood can turn negative, he smiles at you. "Are you ready? Shall we go out?"

You look at him excitedly. "Oh yes." You jump off the bed and smooth out the creases you've left in the comforter. "How long will it take us to get outside?"

"Not long at all. I think twenty minutes and that's it," he explains, turning to head up the stairs.

When you reach the top, Charles gets behind the wheel. You look at him, confused. "Are you driving the yacht?"

"Yep."

"All the time?"

"Yep." He grins at you. "Except for the time you're at the wheel, of course."

You want to jump up and down with excitement. "And where's the man who let me on the boat?"

Charles presses a few buttons and the display in front of him comes to life. "Thomas? He's left the boat."

"Are we all alone?" you ask uncertainly and sit down on the couch. "I thought you still had a chef on board?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "You brought some snacks with you. Thomas also packed some food in the fridge in case you and I want to cook something later."

You purse your lips. You would spend the whole day on the water with Charles. Alone. And you would take pictures of him, which he would post on his official Instagram profile. And you would cook in the small kitchen in the basement. The distance you want to maintain between you seems to be shrinking somehow. 

"You're not going out on the boat with me to kill me and get rid of me discreetly, are you?" you ask him jokingly. 

"Believe me. If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it on our first day," he grins and puts his hands on the steering wheel. "Are you ready?" Charles asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. His green eyes sparkle in the sunlight and small dimples form in his cheeks as he looks at you. 

Gorgeous. 

You smile back. "I'm ready, captain."

He winks at you. "Let's go then."

Concentrating, Charles steers his yacht out of the harbor between the other boats. The rocking is surprisingly pleasant and not as bad as you expected, so you lie down on the couch and wait until you arrive at your destination. Charles remains silent for a while, so you don't say anything either, worried about disturbing his concentration, but while he steers the boat, you start working on your camera settings and think about which one would be best for your shoot. 

After twenty minutes, the yacht comes to a halt and Charles turns to you. "Alright."

Excitedly, you get up from the couch and follow him outside to the sun bed you had your eye on when you boarded. As you look around, you are amazed. You can still see the land in the distance, but you are so far out that it almost merges with the horizon. Although there is a sea breeze blowing around you, the sun is so bright that you don't freeze. It's reflected on the clear water and you want to put on a bikini and jump in. 

Charles seems to notice your gaze. "Next summer, I'll take you with me and then you can swim and sunbathe here until you get sunburnt."

You smile at him. "I'll gladly take you up on that offer." You glance back inside. "Do you need to get changed or are we going to start straight away?"

Charles snaps his fingers once before pulling his shirt over his head and disappearing towards the interior. You try not to stare after him and you ignore how wide his back is and how his muscles move under his skin as he puts his shirt down on the couch. He opens his bag and pulls out a white shirt. When he turns back to you, you turn away quickly, hoping he hasn't noticed you watching him. 

"Ready when you are."

Charles changes clothes more often than you can imagine. He has different outfits ready for every pose and every location on his yacht, which he slips into in order to take the best possible picture. In between, you take a sandwich break on the sun bed and enjoy the warm sun on your skin before getting back to work. 

It doesnt take long for you to figure that Charles is the perfect man for the job. He's so easy to work with, even though he jokes most of the time and you surely have more photos of him looking funny than serious. But you enjoy it the way it is. Happy, free, without a care in the world.

When you have finished and Charles is happy with the photos you took, he suggests going home in the evening. You nod and sit down on the couch. 

When he looks at you expectantly, you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "What is it?"

"I thought you wanted to steer the boat." In his hand, he holds a bandana that he ties around his head to control his hair, which is messy from the constant changing of clothes.

You widen your eyes. "I thought you were messing with me."

He furrows his eyebrows. "Why would I do that? There's nothing and no one here that you can put at risk. And you won't be steering for long." He leans against the seat in front of the wheel. "If you want, the seat is yours."

Excited, you get up from the couch and get behind the wheel. Charles explains everything to you and you try to concentrate on his words as best you can, but he is so close to you that his scent of perfume, a little sweat and him envelops you. 

With his help, the boat sets off and you jump up and down on the seat with joy. Your hair is blowing around your head and it's so loud that you almost scream. "Oh my God! How fucking awesome is that?" You don't even notice that you've let go of the steering wheel.

"Hands on the wheel, you crazy woman!" laughs Charles, holding the wheel tightly. As you look at him, you see a spark of the Charles you know. The Charles that existed before yesterday. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" you apologize and put your hands back on the wheel. "Oh my God! Can you take a picture of me?" 

Charles takes two steps back and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. "Smile, please."

You grin so wide it almost hurts, but you can't stop. It seems so unbelievable that you are on a yacht and even get to steer it. 

You smile at Charles, tears stinging your eyes. A few days ago, you were almost homeless, all alone and on your own. There aren't enough words in the world to describe how grateful you are for the Monegasque who took you in. Who took you into his heart without hesitation. Who was there for you without batting an eyelid.

Fuck, you love him. And nothing in the world will ever change that.

"Thank you."

He lowers his cell phone. "For what?"

A tear escapes your eye and rolls down your cheek. "For everything." 

Charles takes a step towards you and you would love to take him in your arms and never let him go again. But he stops an arm's length away from you and smiles at you. "I would do anything for you."

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, so you avert your gaze and look ahead again. Monaco is getting closer, but you would prefer to stay here. On the yacht and on the sea. You don't want to go back to reality yet - not if you can be here with Charles. The way it was before.

"I don't want to go back yet," he voices your thoughts and puts a hand on the wheel. When you look at him, he smiles a little brokenly. "I don't want to go back yet because I'm afraid that things won't be the same between you and me. That I'll lose you. And I don't want that." 

His words hit you so hard that you can't breathe. You would love to take him in your arms and kiss him and reassure him that you belong to him like the sand belongs to the sea, but that's not the way Charles means it. 

But you don't care how Charles means it. You belong to him - no matter which way.

"Then let's not go back," you suggest. "We - we can stay here and we won't go back until tomorrow."

Charles' smile looks forced. "And then?"

"Then we'll go home." You bite the inside of your cheek and purse your lips. "To our home."

Charles exhales in relief, as if the elephant that had been standing on his chest had finally gotten off of him. As if he had been underwater for too long and could now take his first breath. He would love to stay here forever, with you, far away from the reality of all the pressure he is under. 

As you smile at him, the pressure seems to fall off him. As if he has finally reached his destination, wherever that may be. Like he's home. 

Fuck, he'd do anything for you if you just asked him to.

He motions for you to let him into the seat, and as you swap places, he brings the yacht to a halt. As the engine shuts down, he slides off the seat and turns to face you. 

"Have you ever gotten drunk on a boat before?"

[sylver-star]

⭑.ᐟ

You're standing by the front door; one hand on the wall to keep yourself stable, and the other hand desperately trying to put your second heel on. The dress you're wearing definitely isn't helping your predicament. It looks good on you - you have no doubt about that - but it does restrict your movement ever so slightly. When you finally got the heel on, you put your foot back down on the ground and stood up normally. After straightening out your dress you look up at the man in front of you.

"Good?" you ask.

"No... you should just stay home..." Mingyu says jokingly.

"Babe."

He looks at you, with an almost pained expression, before letting out an exasperated sigh. "You look stunning. Sorry... I just want to go with you."

Your boyfriend is standing in front of you in only sweats and a hoodie. It's a strange sight to see as, usually, it's the other way around. Mingyu would go off to fancy events while you had to stay home. The tables turned when you got invited to the big Christmas party at your new job. A plus one was given to everyone invited, but you can hardly show up with a famous idol on your arm. Not when your relationship is still supposed to be secret, that is.

"I know you're upset..." You lean down and fix your shoe again, the thin strap of your dress falling down your shoulder in the process. "But I'll try to keep it short."

You didn't notice the strap of your dress until Mingyu reaches his hand to fix it. He takes his time gliding it up your shoulder, letting his finger linger on your warm skin before his hand rests there completely.

"Who's going to fix your dress if I'm not there?" He pouts, and you find it hard to not laugh at the pity party he's throwing himself - a taste of sweet revenge.

"Don't worry, I'll find someone," you joke.

"Y/N."

"Mingyu."

You're not one to back down, and neither is he. But tonight, he tries his best to let go of his pride. "I'll miss you," he says.

"I'll be a few hours, tops!" You laugh, just because you don't have it in you to hold it in anymore.

"I'll still miss you. Next time I'll go with you." His hand moves from your shoulder to your waist, to pull you in closer. "I'll let you show me off to everyone at work. Isn't that what you said you wanted, hm?"

You recall the many nights you had complained to him about the women at work fawning over the new pictures of your boyfriend. Whether it's a new comeback, a photoshoot, or a brand collaboration, it doesn't matter. You're still just as jealous as your man is right now.

"We're really made for each other, aren't we?" You grin at him before leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek, your red lipstick leaving a mark that you don't bother to wipe off. "Sure. Next year I'll take you with me."

You both know it's an empty promise. Neither of you know what next year will look like for him professionally. Still, Mingyu smiles. "Promise?" he asks.

"Promise." You nod. "Could you get me my coat now, darling?"

Mingyu lets go of you, and a chill runs down your spine at the lack of his warmth. He takes your coat out of the closet and puts it over your shoulders. As he swings it around you, you're hit with a familiar scent... his perfume.

"Did you spray my coat with perfume, Gyu?" you ask with a smile.

Mingyu avoids your gaze, focusing on fixing the collar of your coat. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"... well, whatever it is, I'm sure it'll keep all the men away from me tonight." Your comment makes him chuckle.

The taxi honks outside, signaling that it's your time to go. Mingyu leans down and presses a quick kiss to your lips. You'll have to fix your lipstick in the cab, but you don't mind that much.

"You really do look beautiful," he murmurs. "I hope you have fun, even if I'm not there tonight."

"I'll try my best." You peck his lips again, and walk out the door with a warm heart - knowing that you'll have a cuddly six-foot-tall teddy bear waiting for you when you get home.

[felinecyan]

When The Night Calls

[Izuku Midoriya x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Your best friend leaving the hero course was enough to make you lose your mind. Especially when he’s suddenly standing across from you with nothing but a tired smile.

WC: 2978

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Vigilante!Deku

Please give this one extra love!! Somehow Midoriya is also very suspiciously difficult to write 👀 (Also, that 3rd-degree burn I gave my hand today is making me want to cry and throw myself in a river. Damn you, AO3 curse!! )

『••✎••』

Seeing that letter taped on your door broke you in more ways than one.

He had been gone for almost a week, but his note left behind made you realize just how long it'd been. How long he had left you with nothing more than a simple explanation of his departure and how it felt like he was never coming back.

The entire class had been on edge ever since. The note even threw Bakugo for a loop, as much as he would deny it. It had everyone wondering where he was and if he was okay.

It hurt you the most, though. He was the closest friend you had and the only one who truly understood your feelings.

But now he was gone.

Aizawa still continued teaching, but with Midoriya absent, the class just couldn't focus. He wasn't as good at making things seem less depressing or stressful, and his lectures were just boring without a green bush to lighten the mood. Or at least, you thought so.

You haven't been paying much attention lately, and you're too busy thinking of your missing friend. Your grades had been slipping, but it wasn't like anyone could blame you. Even if your friends could, they didn't say anything.

They had tried talking to you, but all you could do was give them a half-hearted smile, shake your head, and tell them, "I'm fine."

You weren't fine, and you knew that. But what were you supposed to do? Cry about it? It’s not like he’d come back if you did that.

Ironically, he did technically come back.

That day, Aizawa decided to keep the pain everyone felt about Midoriya buried beneath the surface, so he assigned you all a ten-page essay about the history of quirks.

So, here you were, writing a half-assed essay close to two in the morning. Kaminari was blowing up the group chat with memes and random jokes, but no one seemed to care or even respond.

Well, that was until Bakugo started yelling at him to stop texting because he was trying to sleep.

That went on for about a solid ten minutes, with everyone getting annoyed at the two idiots, but eventually, it died down.

You took a glance at the clock, which now read 2:12 a.m.

Sleep just couldn't come to you. Not now, not when your brain was filled with thoughts of the broccoli boi.

Then, there was a tiny patter against your window, almost like a knock. If it hadn’t been so quiet, you might not have heard it.

You ignored it at first, of course, but it continued, the knocks getting louder and more urgent.

Finally, you stood from your chair, deciding to investigate, but then, the knocking stopped.

You paused, confused, but shrugged, figuring you must have been hearing things.

Yeah, right, because hearing knocks on your dorm window at 2 a.m. is normal.

It turned out to be a good thing you got up because when you turned back around, a figure was directly behind you.

You jumped back in fear, letting out a short shriek before slapping your hands over your mouth. The side eye glance to your window, now open and curtain rustling in the slight wind, had you regretting not locking the damn thing.

The figure let out a small chuckle, his shoulders shaking a bit, and your heart rate sped up.

You could see the person a lot better now that they weren't in the shadows, but the moonlight still kept their face hidden.

All you could see was the curly mess of green hair and a large hoodie with a black mask pulled over the bottom half of their face.

But you didn’t have to see his eyes to know exactly who it was.

Your hands fell limply to your sides as the boy stepped closer. His hand reached the hood of his suit, slowly pulling it off, and his bright, emerald green eyes were staring straight into yours.

The only thing you could do was stare, dumbfounded.

"You did lock it, by the way," the boy's voice said. It sounded hoarse and scratchy as if he hadn't spoken in days. He probably hadn't.

Still, his intuition never failed.

You continued to stare, eyes wide and unblinking.

Midoriya's brow furrowed, a look of worry replacing his smile.

"They really should put more difficult locks on these things. I mean, honestly, all I had to do was twist it, and it opened. If I were a villain, then— hmph!"

Your arms wrapped around his neck tightly, cutting him off. His eyes widened, surprised, but eventually, he relaxed, wrapping his own arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

"I was so worried," you said. You could feel your body starting to tremble, tears pricking your eyes. "Everyone was."

His arms tightened, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"I know. I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. "I couldn't think of any other way."

You leaned back a bit enough to look him in the eyes. His tired, determined eyes.

"Wait, if you’re here… does that mean...?"

"I need my notebook." He kept his frown, and a sigh escaped his lips. "You have my old notes, right? I need those."

Oh.

That was it.

That was why he was back.

"Oh," You failed to hide the disappointment in your tone. "Right, uh, hold on…"

You pulled away, your eyes looking away from his. You could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head as you walked over to the desk, rummaging through the drawer.

Speaking of, your desk was an absolute disaster. If allowing students in your dorm room wasn't against the rules, Iida would have broken down your door a long time ago, screaming at the top of his lungs about how your room was in utter chaos.

Eventually, you found it. It was covered in sticky notes, and some of the pages were folded. Makes sense, considering the fact that you'd spent the last week reading it, studying, and hoping to find some kind of clue about his whereabouts and the league itself.

But even if it was in your hands, screaming for its owner, you hesitated. He was going to leave again, wasn't he? He wasn't going to stay.

But common sense hit you. You couldn’t force him to stay. It would be selfish of you to even ask.

You turned, walking back over to him. He was staring intently at the ground, his eyes narrowed in concentration, and he had a small frown on his face.

When you were a couple of feet away, he finally looked up, his hand reaching out for the book.

"Here," you said, trying not to let the sadness seep into your words. "Don’t mind the added stickies. Simpler terms, easier to understand, you know?"

"Right, thanks," he murmured, his eyes darting over the cover before flipping through the pages. His brows were scrunched together, and his fingers fiddled with the pages, flipping through them with a practiced speed.

He was so concentrated on the notebook that he didn't see your frown, and he didn't see the sadness in your eyes.

But then, he froze.

His eyes scanned over one of the pages, his fingers tightening around the spine of the book, and his breath hitched.

His eyes flickered up to yours, and his lips were set in a tight line.

"You read this?"

"Huh?" You blinked, taken aback. "Was I… not supposed to read it all?"

"What? No, no, I meant this page."

He flipped the book around, opening it to a certain page, and held it up for you to see.

Oh, yeah, his page. The one where he wrote about himself. Which, proudly, you knew most of what was written in it, anyway. Some things caught you off guard, but not many.

"Oh, yeah, I skimmed over it," you admitted.

"And... how much did you skim over?"

"Um... all of it? I mean, I'm in your hero notes, too. I took a lot more of my time on the page dedicated to me, I have to admit, but uh… What's the big deal?"

Midoriya looked at you, and his gaze was intense. "Did you… miss me that much that you would study my hero notes that closely?"

"Well, I wouldn’t say closely—"

He tilted his head in an almost sarcastic manner, and his eyes narrowed as he leaned over to point at a section in his notes.

A bright pink sticky note, covered in stars, was stuck onto the paper.

It was a small part, a very short paragraph, and you had given your analysis of him and not of his quirk either. It was a list of his attributes, his personality, and the type of hero he was.

To someone else, it would be pretty informative about what kind of person he was and what kind of hero he would be, but you both knew the true meaning behind the note.

Because it was all the things you missed about him.

"… oh, " was all you could say.

The air around you two suddenly became awkward, the silence becoming heavy.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

But, as expected, Midoriya broke the silence.

"I figured since you’re still awake, it must mean that you're working on homework or studying, and you wouldn’t do that at night if I weren’t gone," he began. "I thought that maybe it would be too soon to come back, or even that I should have stayed away, but, well, I really needed my notes, and, honestly, I wanted to see you, and—!"

He was rambling again. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, his brain spitting out more words than his mouth could.

At least he was still himself, you thought.

You decided to cut him off, placing your hand on his arm, and he jolted at the sudden contact, his head snapping back up to yours.

"I’m sorry," you said, looking down.

He looked confused, tilting his head. "What for? You have nothing to be sorry for; you didn't do anything wrong."

"No, I—" You cut yourself off, biting your lip, and looked away. You took a deep breath before speaking.

"I'm sorry," you started. "For not stopping you. For not coming with you. For not helping you. I had no idea what you were going through, and I was too worried about myself, and I didn't—"

"Hey, hey, stop," Midoriya said, placing his hand on your shoulder. You hadn't realized you were shaking. "This is my fight, okay? It's not yours, and I was the one who didn’t want to bring anyone else into this mess. This isn’t your fault, so please don’t beat yourself up about it."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do." You looked back up at him, tears blurring your vision. "I don’t know how to help."

He was silent for a moment, but then, he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you once again, and you buried your head in his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie.

"It's okay," he said. "I don’t expect you to know how to help, and I didn’t come here for your help. Well, technically, I did since you had my notebook, but I’m speaking on a—"

“I know, I know," you mumbled.

Another moment of silence, and then, he sighed, a puff of air brushing your ear.

"I'm not sure when I'll be back, if I ever will, but I promise," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear and his words making your heart skip a beat. "I promise we will be fine. We all will. Me, you, everyone else. It might take a while, but we will be okay."

You nodded, your grip on his hoodie tightening. This was the sound of a goodbye, and the finality of it terrified you.

"It’s just…" you mumbled, and his brow furrowed.

"Just what?"

You hesitated, a lump forming in your throat.

"What?" He repeated, pulling back to look you in the eye. "Please tell me."

You took a deep breath, swallowed the lump, and looked him in the eye.

"It's just that... You’re my not-alone buddy, remember?”

Midoriya froze, his eyes widening.

It was a little game you two had back when things weren’t so complicated. Back when you were just normal students.

You both struggled to make friends, so you made a pact. Obviously, that thought disbanded when everyone else got close, and now you all were pretty good friends, but the friendship between him and you was different. It was a bond between you two that was just special.

Not even ‘Kacchan’ could ruin that, as close as he and Midoriya grew.

You never called him Deku, even after Bakugo and the rest of the class started calling him by the nickname. Sure, it was his hero name, and you could call him that, but you just never felt comfortable.

Todoroki didn’t either, but then again, Todoroki didn't call anyone by their nicknames.

But, back to the point.

"We made a pact, and... that was one of the things I wrote on the sticky notes." You gestured to the book. "It was during my angry denial phase, so I’m not that proud of it, but… it was still true."

"You were angry?" He asked, confused. "Why?"

"Well, first of all, I was worried sick. I knew you were going to go do something stupid, and obviously, I was right.”

He winced at that.

"But I was angry because you didn’t trust me, and I felt like you were leaving me, too," you said, biting your lip. "I know that sounds stupid and selfish, and I get that this was your battle, not mine, and I can't change that, but... I guess I was just scared. You didn’t even tell me before you left, and the note was just..."

You trailed off, a lump forming in your throat again, and your eyes burned with tears.

You didn't want to cry in front of him, so you buried your face in his chest again, and his grip tightened around you.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

You shook your head. "Don’t apologize. It's not like you're changing your mind."

He was quiet for a moment, his head lowering and his lips resting on your forehead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Your breath hitched. "Izuku, please don't say it."

He pulled back, and his face was unreadable. He looked determined, his eyes burning with passion, and it hurt. It hurt to know that, despite everything, he still had his mind made up.

"I have to go," he said, and his voice was quiet. "I don’t want to leave you alone. I really don’t, but I have to, and you need to stay safe. Me being here isn't doing anything good, and I can't keep coming back and putting you in danger. So, for now, at least until the Shigaraki is dealt with, please just be safe. Don’t try and find me, and please don't let anyone else know I was here."

He paused, his eyes glancing towards the window.

"Actually, I might come back just to get rid of that lock. I mean, seriously, I barely even touched it, and it came right off. You could easily replace it with something stronger, maybe one of those new locks that only respond to fingerprints! But, then it can be traced back to you, and they can use you to— oh, man, I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

You didn't bother to respond. Instead, you leaned up, pressing your lips against his cheek.

Midoriya's entire face went bright red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

You could feel your face burning, but it was worth it to see his reaction.

"Be careful," you said. "Please, Izu, don’t be stupid."

"R-Right."

He stumbled a bit, his hand coming up to touch the spot where your lips were. His eyes flickered back to you, and you swore you saw him blushing, but then he turned, heading towards the window.

"Oh, uhm, b-by the way," he said, reaching the window. He placed his hand on the frame, glancing back at you. "For Aizawa's essay, you have to also analyze the strengths and weaknesses, not just the evolution of quirks. Make sure to read the whole paragraph in that book he gave us at the beginning of the semester."

He gave you one last smile, pulling the mask over his mouth and the hood over his head. You looked in befuddlement as he stepped out onto the roof, and your hands were wrapped around the edges of the open window.

"How did you—"

"It's Aizawa," His mask was muffling his voice, so he lifted it up a bit, and his eyes twinkled. "What else do you expect from him?"

And then he jumped.

He let the mask drop back down and became just another shadow in the night, with his green lightning trailing behind him.

You didn’t have the energy to laugh, and you didn't have the heart.

You leaned against the windowsill, letting the cool night air wash over your face. You sighed, watching the clouds drift in the sky.

"You're still an idiot," you whispered, closing your eyes.

When the sun rises, this encounter will only be a distant memory.

But for now, the cold night was enough to convince you otherwise. For now, his green eyes were staring up at the same night sky, and he was thinking of you, too.

That kiss on the cheek, as tame as it was, was still enough to make his head spin. You were still his friend, his not-alone buddy, and nothing was going to change that.

And you both were okay with that.

[pastryfication]

can you do something with lando or oscar where the reader does really bad on a test or exam that they studied a lot for and so he comforts them? i'm pretty sure i just failed my chem exam 😭

i choose lando bc it’s been awhile since i’ve written for him! hope you liked this, it was a bit quick but i wanted to post it for you asap 💗

hours upon hours of studying had let to this moment. sleepless nights and numerous crying sessions culminated in this. this test had been all you had thought of—it felt as though every aspect of your life had been about this moment in the last time.

you really needed to do well on this test, it was so so important to you. so when the result came back and you had failed, it felt as if your whole world crumbled.

you were supposed to pass. you were supposed to be smart. you had studied so relentlessly, so why wasn’t it enough?

when you came home to your apartment, you wanted nothing more than to go to bed and never get up. just stay there, in the warm comfort of your duvet forever.

but as you opened the door, something even better awaited you.

your boyfriend stood there in all his glory, an exited smile on his face. “welcome home, love!” lando sounded so joyful that you wanted to cry. you had failed him. he was going to be so disappointed that you didn’t pass after he spent so much time helping you study. the thought was almost unbearable for you, and you could feel your bottom lip start to tremble.

“i failed, lan.” your voice came out wobbly, the sadness more than evident. “i failed the test.”

his smile immediately turned into a frown, and in two strides he was by your side, enveloping you in a hug.

“oh, babe.” he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head, cradling you close to his chest.

his voice, tinged with so much empathy, was enough to open the floodgates, and before you knew it, you were bawling into his chest, all the emotions you had tried so hard to conceal on the way home coming rushing out.

“i don’t get it,” you hiccuped into his chest. “i studied so hard. i tried my absolute best…” your grip on his hoodie tightened and his arms around your back pulled you even closer in response. “i gave it my all and it still wasn’t enough.”

his heart broke at the defeat in your voice and it took him a moment to gather himself. he didn’t know what to say. didn’t know how to comfort you, so he just held on tight, kissing your head repeatedly and murmuring soft “i love you”’s into your hair.

“baby,” after a while of just standing there, he finally spoke up. “it’s- it’s okay to fail.” he pulled back, taking your cheeks in his warms hands to look you in the eye. “it didn’t go as you hoped, yeah, but the important thing is that you’ve tried. you gave it everything you had and that’s so incredible. you’re so incredible. you always give 110 percent, even when you don’t get it in return, and i’m so proud of you for that. for- for not giving up. it may feel hopeless right now, but it’ll get better. i promise. you’ll do better on the next one—or maybe you won’t, and that’s okay too.”

he ended his speech with a warm kiss to your lips, and you didn’t know wether to laugh or cry again. the way he cradled your face with such adoration, the way he stumbled over his words, desperate to say exactly what you needed to hear, it was just too much.

he was so perfect. the best boyfriend you could have asked for in that moment.

[louisferrignojr]

based on this hilarious post thank you @bidisasterevankinard and @aringofsalt brief timeline explanation: this is an au in which they broke up sometime in february instead of november. good? good, let's go also on ao3

They were here last year, holding hands as they strolled through the market, briefly stopping at every stall to browse the menu or admire the handmade crafts. 

He’s on his third cup of gluhwein and it’s mostly lukewarm at this point, he knocks it back and throws the empty cup in the closest recycling bin and turns to go find Sal and the girls when his eye catches a baby in a stroller a few feet away. 

Tommy blinks back the tears. He can almost picture Evan next to him, smiling at this adorable baby, pulling a face to make it laugh — and God, it was supposed to be them, they were supposed to be here together, and it’s been nearly a year since the breakup and Tommy still isn’t quite right.

That’s when he notices the baby’s dad straightening up from where he was digging around in the bag underneath the stroller and — it can’t be.

“Evan,” Tommy whispers, a rush of a breath knocked out of him like he’s been gut-punched. Before he can fully process what’s going on, Tommy’s making his way over, calling out Evan’s name louder this time, too loud to be polite. 

“Tommy,” Evan says, and he’s surprised to see him, but there’s no anger in his eyes, nothing but fondness in the way he utters his name; Evan looks happy to see him. 

Tommy loses half his mind. “When did — why didn’t you tell me?” Tommy demands in a shaky voice. He’s too drunk to do the maths, and he’s spectacularly bad at guessing baby ages — the kid looks about 6 months old, if you asked Tommy — but it’s the only explanation. “I’m so sorry, Evan, I wish I could have been there for you, oh my God, you should have told me!”

Evan is blinking at him, as is his baby. Tommy is trying so hard not to break down crying. 

“Um,” Evan is glancing around nervously, and distantly Tommy knows he’s making a bit of a scene and attracting attention from the people around them but he’s too drunk to keep his voice down. 

“You didn’t have to go through it alone! How far along were you when we broke up? I would have stayed if I’d known, why didn’t you tell me?” Tommy covers his mouth with his hand, then pushes it through his hair, mussing it up. “Oh, God, I'm so sorry. I don’t want to be a deadbeat dad, Evan!” 

And then Evan is smiling and reaching out to grab Tommy by his wrist, squeezing gently. “Let’s go somewhere more private and we can talk about it, okay?” He takes Tommy’s hand and laces their fingers together and starts pushing the stroller one-handed, still smiling as they wade through the crowds.

Tommy lets the tears fall, blurring his vision, awkwardly letting himself be led to the parking lot. He’s a sniffling mess, wiping at his eyes and nose with the sleeves of his hoodie, and he wishes he could have taken this time to compose himself but as soon as they stop by Evan’s Jeep, Tommy turns and falls into his arms, and Evan holds him and squeezes him tightly and lets him cry it out. 

“I think you got some wires mixed, babe,” Evan tells him when Tommy finally manages to detach himself from the man. “Did you really think you managed to knock me up? I mean, I know you gave it your best shot, but, Tommy, honey…” 

Tommy's face falls. He blinks as he snaps back to reality. 

He looks down at the baby in the stroller as Evan bends down to unbuckle the seatbelt and scoops it up in his arms. “This is Skylar. He’s a safe surrender baby. His mother dropped him off at the firehouse a few months ago. I'm fostering him.”

“So… he’s not…” 

“No, he’s not our baby, you dummy. How much mulled wine have you had?” Evan is grinning at him and Tommy feels the embarrassment setting in, warming up his already flushed face. 

“I’m sorry.” Tommy whispers. 

Evan nods and unlocks the car, goes about securing the baby in his car seat and folding the stroller and putting it in the trunk. then he turns to face Tommy again. 

“We’d like to invite you over for a coffee or a tea. Probably coffee to sober you up.”

Tommy hangs his head and stares resolutely at his shoes. This is so goddamn embarrassing and Evan’s inviting him to his loft for a coffee and he wishes he was sober enough for a real conversation. 

There's so much he wants to say. 

“I’d like that.” Tommy mumbles. 

Evan steps closer to him. He grabs Tommy’s chin between his finger and his thumb and tilts his head so their eyes meet, and then he’s sliding his hand over Tommy's cheek and Tommy is weak but to lean into the touch, eyes fluttering shut. “I've missed you.” Evan says, voice soft. 

“I've missed you, too. So much.” 

“Come on.” Evan nods for him to get in the passenger seat. “We have a lot to talk about. Maybe afterwards I'll let you try to knock me up again, see if you have better luck this time,” he adds with another grin and Tommy groans and drops his head in his hands. 

He’s never going to live this down. 

[star2fishmeg]

tattoo blurb in honor of lukeys birthday,, perhaps u get it as a birthday gift for him and he can’t keep himself together

Best bday present ever, in my opinion. This is longer than I expected oops. Happy birthday Luke!

You're supposed to meet everyone at the bar with Luke to celebrate his birthday in ten minutes, but instead, you're hurling yourself through his apartment complex with shopping bags and sweat dripping down your back. You were so late, but the traffic wasn't your fault and you had to give Luke his present before you left.

When Luke does answer the door, it's in a panic, eyes wide and he's pushed out the way as you barrel through his place, straight into the bedroom as he's left following you like a shadow, throwing his head back and groaning in irritation.

"Y/n, where were you, we're so late." He walks into his bedroom, voice laced with concern as he watches you dump your bags and remove your shoes, "Everyone is waiting."

"I'm so sorry, the traffic was awful," you pant, pulling your hoodie over your head, "but I have to give you your present before we leave."

"Can it wait? You still need to get ready-"

"-No, I've been waiting weeks for this," you point to the end of his bed, "sit."

He does as he'd told, and you turn away from him. Luke checks his watch impatiently, debating on whether he should text Jack about the further delay. He can't be too harsh on you though, usually, you were early to everything, usually, you were the one waiting on him to sort himself out. He looks up, jaw slacking and suddenly all the bubbling irritation dissolved into heat flushing to his neck, that tingly feeling surging through his body like electricity when his eyes lay on the sight of you pulling your jeans off, flashing a view of your ass clad in his favourite lace panties. Fantasies flood through his mind, potential gifts he's dreamed about in the upcoming weeks, ones that make his jeans tight as your shirt is discarded across his room, not that it was part of the gift, but it was going to come off anyway.

A grin crawls onto your lips upon hearing the way his breathing hitches. You've been itching to show him, tired of coming up with excuses as to why you couldn't sleep over, seeing it in the mirror and knowing that it'll drive Luke up the wall, in a good way, of course.

"Babe, you can't just do that without warning, you know what it does-" he begins, hands running over your thighs and pulling you closer between his legs. You giggled at him, not the cute giggle that sounds like summer sunsets and picnics on the docks, but the giggle that raises sirens in his head that he should brace himself for your antics.

You slowly spin to face him, excitement in your stomach and hands landing on his shoulders. Luke's grip on your hips tightens, his eyes flickering over the '43' tattooed on your bikini line, healed but tender and he feels his heart hammer in his chest. A quiet 'fuck' slips past his lips, thumb tracing gently over the ink.

"Happy birthday, Lu." You coo, bringing your hand to his hair and threading your fingers through his curls just the way he likes it, the way that makes his body melt into your touch.

He swears again. He's on your body. Forever. You've claimed him as yours and everyone will see that over the summer. You've declared your love, faith, and hope to him, making his chest bloom with joy. His lips tug into a grin and a lewd warmth pools to his core. He's looking at the hottest thing you've ever done. It's so hot he can't find the words, they're jumbled in his brain and the only clear thoughts swirling is how he never wants you to wear anything ever again, he wants to see it all the time. He wants to mark it, kiss it, and show you how much he loves it. How much he loves you.

"What do you think?" you ask, teasingly as his gaze remains on the tattoo, locked in a trance and you know exactly what's on his mind. What's got him worked up, ears tinted pink and knee bouncing.

He fumbles over his words, failing to formulate a coherent sentence, but eventually pulls himself together just enough to communicate exactly how you've lured him into a filthy paradise of consuming lust that sends him into overdrive. He doesn't look up when he speaks lowly, long fingers toying under your waistband, "You think I make you cum in the next five minutes?"

"I think you can do it in less."

[hxney-lemcn]

non-request Idia thought of the Day:

Consider hieght difference.

OUR BOY BE TALL!! Easily being able to duck under his arm or get into small spaces to fix tech because you're small.

being absolutely done with a situation (Dorm head meeting?), walking over to Idia, and promptly zipping yourself up in his jacket. while he's still in it. He doesn't know what to do. he's just standing there with another person in his jacket with him. WHAT BUTTON DOES HE PRESS FOR THIS HE DOESNT KNOW-- Not even your head is out, the jacket is zipped all the way up.

Also sweater paws for that one hit K.O. to Idia.

ALSO SHORT BUT STRONK- IMAGINE BEING SMALL AND ADORABLE BUT YOU JUST PICK IDIA'S SKYSCRAPER ASS UP LIKE NOTHING. "Hi Cater, Need Idia. Bye." Straight just yoinking him and leaving. Why did you need him? Parallel play reasons obviously.

Idia is 6 ft (183 cm) tall, and he never really thought about his height. Why would he? He barely leaves his room, if anything, he wishes he was smaller so he could blend into a crowd better.

And then you come along. It doesn't matter how much shorter you are, whether its only an inch or a foot, he notices that your shorter.

It would be so funny if you try to kabedon him, if you're really short you gotta stand up on your tippy toes. Instant K.O. Idia is gone, deceased. He finds it both adorable and lowkey hot and he secretly wishes you do it again.

If he tries to get you back...he dies of embarrassment if you slip under his arm. HE WAS TRYING TO DO THE THING! AND YOU JUST- YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO DO THAT! (give him a little kiss to make up for your teasing).

He is crumbling at any sign of affection (even more so if its public). You zipping yourself in his hoodie? Or just slipping it over your head as well. Sharing a hoodie while he's still in it...yeah he's a jittery mess. You're heat seeping into him, your hair tickling his skin, you look so peaceful with your head against his chest and arms around his torso...if your in a private setting he watches you with a blush. He can't get over the fact that you're real and you choose him. If you're in public his hood is over his head and he's trying to act cool but his bright pink cheeks and tips of his hair clearly give away his true feelings.

It would be absolutely comical for short but strong reader to pick up Idia. Oh my gosh and if people are around...yeah he's floundering (ik I keep saying that but lets be real...he can barely handle a normal social situation lmao). To be fair, if you can lift over 140lbs (63kg) you can probably carry him (he is thin so I'm assuming we are a similar weight and I added some lbs cus he's taller than me). This is probs your way of getting him out of a situation he doesn't want to be in (any social one 💀).

Cater is trying to be buddy buddy with Idia, wanting to finally have at least one friend from Ignihyde. Idia looks like he wants to be literally anywhere else. So you decide to step in, pick up Idia, and tell Cater that y'all had plans. Idia is holding onto you for dear life, Cater is eating it up (this is now added to his gossip folder and he definitely got photos of you carrying Idia). After the panic wears off, Idia is impressed. Who knew you had so much muscle? Totally not another reason for him to simp for you.

[archangeldyke-all]

haiii angel :3

i'm afraid sugar momma sevika has taken over my very being... could i request something abt her? maybe the reader convinces her to a day up in piltover for a shopping day :)

hehehehheheheehhe

men and minors dni

sevika's been having a rough week.

silco's been working her hard, and jinx has been getting her into trouble.

you've been trying to make it a little easier for her. last night, you cooked her favorite food for dinner, the night before you gave her an hour long massage. when she finally comes trudging through the door tonight, an exhausted frown on her face, you scoop her up into a long, long hug.

eventually, sevika pulls away, kissing your cheek. "hi, love." she greets.

you smile at her. "i have a surprise for you." you whisper. sevika grins.

"really?"

"something to make you feel better." you say, reaching up to slowly unzip the sweatshirt you threw over your naked chest a few minutes ago.

sevika grins, a sweet little giggle escaping her as your tits are revealed to her. she immediately reaches forward, groping your chest as she swoops in to kiss you. "you know me so well." she sighs against your mouth. you cackle.

"c'mon. let's go take a nap." you say, trying to walk sevika toward the bed. what she needs is a good four hours of sleep.

"wait." sevika whines, her hands still grabbing your tits. "this... this was a very nice surprise but... i know something else we can do that'll make me feel better." sevika says. you raise an eyebrow at her.

"oh yeah?" you ask. she nods.

"lemme take you shopping?" she asks. "i just... wanna spoil you. i need to remember why i'm workin' so hard." she says.

and well... how are you supposed to say no to that?

sevika insists you wear the flimsy little zip up hoodie and nothing else on your little trip. you agree, just for the excited little smile you get for it when you say yes.

as you make your way to the promenade, sevika slings a possessive arm around you, pressing a firm kiss to your head each time someone tries to look your direction.

you try to take her mind off work, asking her about the book she's been reading in her downtime and what she wants to eat for dinner in the coming days.

and when you get up top, you bite your tongue at all the ridiculously expensive shit she asks you to try on, letting her ogle you as much as she pleases, making out with her behind the flimsy curtains of the dressing room.

she buys you whatever you ask for, which means you ask for a lot of stuff for her too. you claim both of you need new toothbrushes, when really it's just sevika's bristles that are worn down and tired. you say the house needs more throw blankets, when she's the one that's always falling asleep on the couch with a book. you beg to stop by the deli and get a good slice of meat, even though you both know sevika's the only person in the house who'll eat it. she gives you a sweet look each time, seeing through your lies but letting you take care of her-- so long as she's the one paying.

by the end of the evening, you have to hire a shopboy to help you carry all your treasures back down to zaun.

it's ridiculous and ostentatious, but it's entirely worth it for the sweet, satisfied smile on sevika's lips as she marches you down the street, both of your arms swinging with shopping bags.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

[pickingupmymercedes]

Pretty please - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Pretty please - Dua Lipa - anon

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: smut

wordcount: +3k

a/n: sorry for the unreasonable expectations i'm setting on this one.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

I sat at my desk, the glow of my laptop casting a harsh light across the piles of papers and open notebooks. The emails kept coming, ping after relentless ping, demanding my attention.

My head ached, my shoulders were stiff, and it felt like the world was closing in on me one deadline at a time. But I had to handle it. I always did.

My phone buzzed on the edge of the table, and I glanced at the screen. Lewis, of course.

Hey, how’s your day going?

I ignored it, not because I didn’t care, but because I knew he’d hear the tension in my reply. And I couldn’t afford to be distracted—not when I still had so much to do.

He was supposed to be in LA, anyway, probably getting involved in some other whoe new industry or just soaking up the sun. You never knew with him.

I rubbed my temples, willing myself to focus. But my mind was running wild, thoughts ricocheting between what I’d done and what I still needed to do. My coffee had gone cold an hour ago, but I didn’t bother to make some more.

A knock sounded at the door, and I nearly jumped out of my chair. Maybe I’d ordered something and didn’t remember.

But then there was a second knock, this one heavier, more deliberate. I hesitated, irritation bubbling up. Who the hell was showing up unannounced?

I swung open the door and my breath caught in my chest. There he was—Lewis, standing on my hall, looking way too put together in his black hoodie and sweatpants, like he’d just casually dropped by.

His face broke into that familiar, infuriatingly warm smile, ready to break any of my resolves. “Hey, love.”

“What are you doing here?” My voice came out sharper than I intended, and I could see the slight arch of his brow. But he just tilted his head, slipping his hands into his pockets like he had all the time in the world.

“I had a feeling you might need some company.” His eyes scanned my face, lingering on the shadows under my eyes. I hated how he could read me so easily, even when I was doing my best to keep it together.

“I’m busy, Lewis. I don’t have time for—” I waved a hand vaguely, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation.

He stepped closer, almost inside the doorway, crowding my space in a way that made my pulse quicken. “You sure about that?” he asked, his voice low, almost teasing.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my thoughts in line. “You can’t just show up whenever you want, you know?. I have work, I have—”

He reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek, a light touch shut me up.

I hated how easily my body responded to him, how the heat of his hand on my skin made my mind go blank, even if just for a second.

“You’re doing it again” he murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw. “Where you pretend like you don’t need anyone, like you can handle everything on your own.” He took a step closer, his chest nearly brushing mine, and I had to fight the urge to lean into him.

“That’s because I can handle it” I snapped, my voice lacking the conviction though.

“Of course you can.” He said it like it was a given, like he wasn’t doubting my strength for a second.

But then he tilted his head, and the edge of his smile softened. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t take a break.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. It was like he’d found the one chink in my armor, the one place where my stubbornness couldn’t quite hold up against the exhaustion pressing down on me. He took another step, closing the distance between us, his hands sliding to my waist, steadying me.

“Thought so” he murmured, a trace of a smile in his voice, but there was a seriousness behind it too—like he knew just how much I needed this, even if I couldn’t admit it.

I hated how easily he could disarm me, how his presence was enough to make all the chaos in my head slow down, how he could give me the relief I craved.

And God, I wanted to let go, to stop fighting for just a little while.

Then I realized what I was doing and I pulled back, trying to regain my footing. “I can’t just drop everything because you showed up, Lewis,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.

God, even I could hear how unsteady I sounded, how much I was wavering.

His hands moved to cradle my face, tilting my chin up so I had to meet his eyes. “Y/n.” His voice was gentle, but there was a firmness to it too, like he wasn’t going to let me slip away this time.

I took a shaky breath. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the way he was looking at me, but suddenly all the fight went out of me, leaving behind only the aching need for someone to get my mind to shut up.

“Fine,” I said, the word coming out like a sigh, and his smile softened, turning almost tender. “But don’t think this means I’m—”

And his mouth was already pressing against mine in a kiss that stole the rest of my words. It was slow, deliberate, like he was taking his time, coaxing me out of my own head with every brush of his lips.

My hands slid up to his shoulders, gripping the soft fabric of his hoodie, and I couldn’t stop the way I melted into him, my body leaning into the solid strength of his.

His hands slid down to my waist, guiding me until we somehow ended up at my bedroom.

I felt my legs hit the edge of the bed and he eased me down, never breaking the kiss, and I let myself follow his lead, sinking into the mattress as he hovered over me, his weight pressing me down in a way that made my mind finally—blessedly—go quiet.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing a path down the side of my neck, and I couldn’t help the soft sound that escaped me, my hands threading through the hem of his hoodie as I arched into him.

His hands were everywhere—skimming down my sides, slipping beneath the hem of my shirt, fingers dancing over my skin.

“You’re tense, love,” he murmured against my skin, his breath warm and teasing. “Let me take care of you.”

And for once, I didn’t argue. I just let him touch me, let the sensation of his hands on my body drown out everything else—every deadline, every worry, every thought that had been keeping me awake at night.

His mouth found mine again, and this time, I kissed him back with everything I had, pouring all my pent-up frustration and longing into the press of my lips against his.

His hands found the edge of my shirt, and I lifted my arms, letting him pull it over my head. The cool air hit my skin, but then his naked torso was pressing down against mine, his warmth seeping into me, making everything else fade away.

“Just let go, Y/n,” he whispered against my ear, his voice rough and breathless. “I’ve got you.”

His lips roamed over my body like he could go on for hours, grazing the curve of my jaw, then lower, pressing soft kisses down the column of my neck. I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin, the way he was taking his time, savoring each reaction that slipped out of me.

‘Because, clearly, taking your time is necessary when you surprise someone mid-meltdown’ I thought, trying to hold onto the irritation that was fading with every kiss. I couldn't deny how good it felt, even if he was showing up unannounced to dismantle my well-established stress routine.

“Lewis...” I murmured; a half-hearted protest caught in my throat. He chuckled softly against my collarbone, a low, rumbling sound that made my toes curl.

His mouth moved lower, tracing a path across my collarbone, then down to the swell of my chest. He took his time, planting kisses across every inch of skin he could reach, his tongue flicking over the sensitive spot on my nipples.

My breath hitched, fingers tightening in his clothes, and he took it as encouragement, slipping out of his sweatpants, dragging out every moment until my thoughts began to unravel into the steady rhythm of his lips back on my skin.

“Relax, love,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper against the curve of my breast.

I wanted to argue, to tell him that I couldn’t just relax on command, but the words caught when he started to kiss his way down my stomach, his hands trailing behind, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He reached the waistband of my leggings, his fingers toying with the fabric, and he looked up at me, eyes dark and focused, a question hanging in the air between us. I bit my lip, nodding once, and he flashed me that cocky little smile.

“Good girl,” he said, the words getting me wetter than I already was.

Then he peeled my leggings down my legs, slow and steady, like he was unwrapping a gift. I squirmed beneath him but he just pinned me with a look, like he wanted me to see just how much he was savoring every moment.

Because, of course, he just has to show off how he’s got all this control, while I’m lying here barely hanging on. Typical.

His hands settled on my thighs, spreading them apart, and I could feel the heat pooling low. He kissed the inside of my knee, then moved lower, trailing his lips along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, making my breath hitch.

“Lew” I whispered, my voice shaky, but he just hummed in response, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin until he reached the heat of my core. He paused there; his breath warm against me.

Seriously, he’s really going to take his sweet time, isn’t he? I thought, want twisting inside me.

And then he finally leaned in, his mouth pressing against me in a way that made my back arch off the bed, a soft moan escaping my lips before I could bite it back. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, tasting every inch of me like he was committing it to memory, and I couldn’t help the way my hands fisted in the sheets.

He took his time, his hands gripping my thighs to hold me in place as he coaxed sounds out of me that I would be embarrassed to admit to. All I could focus on was the heat pooling low in my belly and the way his tongue was moving against me, driving me wild.

“Lew—oh my god,” I gasped, my head falling back against the pillow as his tongue flicked over my entrance, a finger making slow and round motions on my clit. My body trembled beneath him, walls clenching around his nothing as he held me in place, refusing to let up even when my legs began to shake.

“That’s it, love” he murmured against my skin, the words vibrating against me like they had the power to cloud my thoughts. “Let go for me.”

And then he doubled down, dragging his tongue across me with a precision that made my vision blur, sending me spiraling. I shattered around him, my body convulsing as he licked me through it, holding me steady.

When I finally came back down, my chest heaving with every shaky breath, he lifted his head, his lips and beard glistening, that smug grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Better now?” he asked, his voice rough, but a teasing glint in his eyes. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he whispered, “Think I got some of that tension out?”

I let out a breathless laugh, my hands tugging him back for a kiss, tasting myself on his lips. “Not even close,” I shot back, my voice needy, a hunger that I couldn’t ignore. “I need you, Lewis. Now.”

His expression shifted, the teasing edge melting into something more intense. He brushed a thumb over my lower lip, his eyes searching mine like he was making sure I meant it, and when he saw the fire still there, his smile turned wicked.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing” he murmured, but he was already shifting above me, his body pressing me deeper into the mattress as his hands roamed over my skin. I could feel him through his boxers, hot and hard against my thigh, and a frustrated whine slipped out of me before I could stop it.

“You’re taking too damn long.” I muttered, arching up my hips against him, trying to close the distance between us.

He chuckled, a low, rough sound with a warning note to it. “You think I’m going too slow, huh?” His hand slid to the small of my back, flipping me over in one smooth motion before I could protest.

My chest hit the mattress, my breath catching as he pressed down on my lower back, keeping me in place.

“I’m gonna make that mind go blank” he growled against my ear, his hands ridding his dick out of the fabric, his voice dark and commanding, a promise in every word. “Stop squirming and let me take care of you.”

And then he thrust into me, hard and deep, and every thought scattered from my mind like glass shattering. A choked moan ripped from my throat, my fingers scrambling for purchase on the sheets as he set a relentless pace, his hips snapping against mine with enough force to make the bed creak.

My world narrowed down to the feel of him inside me, stretching me, filling me, each thrust sending me forward until I was trembling beneath him, completely at his mercy.

His hands gripped my hips, holding me steady as he drove into me again and again, the sound of skin against skin mingling with our moans.

And just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, he pulled my back against his chest, his arm wrapping around my waist, and then in a smooth motion, he slipped out and flipped me onto my back.

My body felt like jelly beneath him, barely able to keep up with the shift, and my head spun.

He paused, leaning down to press a tender kiss to my lips. His movements slowed, and I could see something shift in his eyes—something that reached deeper than desire, like a vulnerability he wasn’t quite used to showing.

The rough edges of him softened, giving way to a quiet, unguarded expression that made my chest melt. My hand came up to touch his face, my thumb tracing the edge of his cheekbone, and for a moment, the world felt like it was holding its breath.

The intensity drained from his features, replaced by gentleness, almost pleading, like he wanted me to understand all the things he couldn’t put into words.

Missionary. It was a language to him.

When he shifted into it, when he wrapped me in his arms and let his weight settle against mine, I knew he was saying something beyond touch.

His gaze held mine as he pushed inside me again, his forehead brushing against mine, and I felt that unspoken promise in every slow thrust. ‘I’m here, I’m yours, I won’t let you face this alone.’

And it wasn’t just about the pleasure; it was about the way he made me feel seen, peeling back every layer of my defenses, like he was taking the time to memorize every reaction, every shuddering breath and half-broken moan that slipped out of me.

His hips rolled in a rhythm that was almost gentle, each thrust angled just right, hitting that spot inside me that made stars burst behind my eyelids. I clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders as I anchored myself against the tide of sensation that threatened to sweep me away.

“Baby” I breathed, my voice barely more than a whisper. I could feel the tenderness in every movement, the way he looked at me. It wasn’t just the sex—it was the way he felt, the way he made me feel.

His forehead pressed against mine, his breath mingling with mine as he kept that slow, steady pace. “Right here, love” he murmured, his voice low and rough, but there was a softness in it too, like he was letting me in on some kind of secret. “I’ve got you.”

I nodded, unable to form words, too caught up in the way his body moved against mine, how he fit against me. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groaned, his control faltering for a moment as he buried himself inside me to the hilt.

I held onto him like a lifeline, my heart pounding in my chest each thrust sent a wave of warmth spreading through me, settling deep in my bones. And every time he hit that spot, the one that made me see white, his eyes would flicker to watch my reaction, a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Because of course he’s gotta make sure he’s doing it just right. Like he’s got some kind of checklist. Hit the spot, check. Make her breath hitch, check.

My thoughts slipped away into a haze of pleasure, my body arching against him, chasing that high that built with every roll of his hips. And just when it started to build, he slowed down, holding himself deep inside me, his forehead pressing against mine.

“Hey,” he rasped, his voice almost too soft to hear over the sound of my ragged breathing. “You good?”

I let out a breathless laugh, my hand reaching up to brush the sweat from his cheek.

Gosh, the question was so him, so perfectly Lewis, checking in right at the edge. My chest tightened with something achingly tender, something that made me want to kiss him until I ran out of breath.

“Yeah” I replied, and there was a hint of awe in my voice that I couldn’t quite hide. “You—God, I don’t know how you’re real sometimes.”

He chuckled, but there was a flush of heat creeping up at his chest, a slight falter in the confidence that he usually wore like a second skin.

And that look in his eyes—soft, vulnerable—made my heart clench, like he wasn’t used to hearing that, even after everything.

“Real enough to keep going, yeah?” he teased, his smile turning mischievous as he shifted his hips just enough to draw a gasp from me. His hand brushed over my chin, the pad of his thumb stroking along my jaw as he held my gaze. “Or you need a minute, love?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, even as the corner of my mouth twitched with a smile. “What happened to making my mind go blank?” I shot back, my voice still breathy but with a bite to it, trying to keep up my bravado even as my body thrummed with every slight movement.

He grinned, that cocky little smirk that made something tighten low in my belly. “Already did. This one will be for us.” he promised, his voice dipping into that dark, velvety tone that made my toes curl. “Just wanted to make sure you knew.”

Before I could fire back with something sarcastic, he angled his hips and thrust into me again, deeper this time, and the breath rushed out of my lungs in a sharp cry. My hands fisted in the sheets, clinging on for dear life as he started to move again, slow and deliberate again, like he was trying to draw every last bit of pleasure out of me.

And this time, there was no teasing. Just him, moving with a focus on my features that made my head spin, like he was determined to see me come apart in his arms. I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, couldn’t keep up the front, my head tipping back against the pillow as the pleasure built again.

It was almost too much—I could feel myself starting to unravel, my body trembling beneath him. And through it all, he never took his eyes off me, watching every reaction like it was the only thing that mattered.

When I finally came, the ringing in my ears and the white in my vision was almost like passing out. The pleasure made my mind go completely blank, like he’d promised.

My fingers digging into his shoulders as I held on, and he was right there with me, slowing his movements to help me ride out the high, his lips brushing against my temple, murmuring soft reassurances that I couldn’t quite make out.

My body went limp beneath him, a boneless, breathless mess, and he kissed me softly, his lips lingering against mine like he didn’t want to let go. I could feel his heart racing against my chest, his breath warm against my skin.

“God, you’re stubborn,” he teased, his voice rough but affectionate, his thumb tracing lazy circles along my hip. “Can’t even let yourself relax for five minutes.”

I let out a tired laugh, still not fully back to form a coherent come back, pressing a lazy kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“You stay here and I’ll order some take out, I’m sure you haven’t eaten” He smiled, something soft and sweet in it, and then leaned in to kiss me again, properly this time, like he was sealing a promise.

______________________________________________________________

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[petew21-blog]

Sturniolo triple swap

MORNING

Chris woke up, groggy. He yawned and strechted his arms, feeling a bit different this morning. He stood up and rubbed his face. But something mettalic bumped into the side of his pinky. He froze. Now confused, he blinked. "Why am I in Nick's room?" he thought to himself. He tried to touch the mettalic thing again. No... that's not possible. He stumbled to the nearest mirror, almost tripping on the way. There it was, Nick's face. His piercing was the thing that he touched.

"Holy shit! Nick?" Nick's voice answered, but it was Chris who controlled it along with the shocked face who mimicked his expressions. Or more easily now, reflected.

Chris stared at himself. He looked at his body, lifting up the shirt. He wasn't fat, but Nick was naturally heavier. And Chris felt the difference. He touched the tatoos. "This is insane..."

Matt

Matt started his morning like he always would. He woke up, put on his favourite hoodie and headed to the bathroom. His eyes still not used to the light didn't really notice any difference. Or even Matt himself didn't. He didn't even notice that he came out of Chris's room.

Matt splashed water on his face. He looked up at himself. "Woah" he noticed the hair. They were much longer. He brushed through them and couldn't believe how much they have grown over night. And then he noticed. That wasn't hsi face that he was used to see every morning in the mirror.

"Okay... it's ok. It's just a dream."

Matt closes his eyes, breathing slowly.

He hears a scream coming from his own bedroom.

"Ok, maybe it's not a dream"

Nick

Nick strechted in the bed, not wanting to get up so early. He felt he was hard. He decided to ignore the hard on.

He opened his eyes and immediately knew something was off. This wasn't his room. He got up and looked around. "WTF Matt?" but the voice was different, it sounded just like his brother.

He got up and went straight to the mirror. He knew this was real, way too real.

"How am I Matt? I could Freaky Friday with anyone, but I swap with Matt? Hello? Like..."

He looked at himself again. He flexed his arms, lifting his shirt. "Well it could be worse I guess."

"MAAAAAATTTTTT, CHRIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSS!" Nick screamed through the whole house

Nick, Matt, Chris

Nick:"Can anybody explain why I'm in Matt's body?"

Matt:"Who are you?"

Chris:"Who else would be so loud in this house"

Matt pointing at Nick's body:"So you're Chris in Nick's body and Nick is in mine. And I am in Chris's"

Nick:"So can anyone explain what happened?"

Matt looking concerned at Nick:"No, but can you explain, why is my dick hard?" he pointed at his old body. Chris was laughing, while Nick was trying to hide it. "I just woke up, don't pretend like it doesn't happen to you"

Matt:"It does, but in my own body. intentionally"

Chris:"Hello? Can we stop talking about Matt's wonderful dick and try to figure out what to do?"

Nick:"If this is like Freaky Friday we'll have to pretend to be each other and live our lives"

Matt:"We're triplets, we could pretend to be ourselves actually"

Chris:"Yeah, like everyone who knows us can't tell the difference, right? Even our Tiktok fans can tell who we are. Putting on clothes won't change that"

Nick:"We should go on like we normally do and see if we swap back"

Matt:"But we're suppose to shoot today in the car. Why am I feeling so uneasy?"

Chris:"My body needs Pepsi, you should go get some. We got some preparing to do. Let's get dressed"

They had to figure out who goes to who's room according to their bodies, which took a minute, but they eventually did.

Nick

Nick found some clothes that Matt usualy wears and that fit him well. He thought about mocking him, but Chris might do the same thing to him.

He stood in front of the mirror. His heart started racing. There was one thing he was curious about. He was gay, but Matt's body wasn't. Maybe he... nah that would be too much. But still, it would be good to know

Nick closed the door and sat on the bed. He pulled out Matt's phone. Searched Pornhub and already saw some favourite links Matt had. He watched for a moment, not knowing if he was observing the man or the woman. But Nick felt his briefs tightening. Jesus, he was hard in Matt's body. Was he really gonna do what he thought of?

"Ah fuck it" he pushed his hand under the waistband and grabbed his new hard dick. "Ok, pretty nice brother." he pulled down his sweatpants and now his briefs. His new shaved dick was right there. He started jerking it. Still watching the porn. Yeah, he was into it. Or his body atleast. This wasn't so bad. Maybe if he had to have sex as Matt with some girl, he would be good

"Are you fucking serious right now?!" Matt in Chris's body was standing in the doorway watching Nick, Chris in his body right behind him amused. "Does this mean we are allowed to jerk off to? I kinda wanna try some of your toys" Chris shouted at Nick

"Matt I'm so so sorry. I really didn't want to" Nick apologized abruptly

"Yeah and is that why the porn is on as well?" Matt shouted

"I just wanted to know if I was straight now. Nothing else..." Nick tried to apologize in a way

"Wait. Do you guys think I'm gay now? Oh no. I must be, right? Since Nick has your dick hard from that straight porn. Oh no, I'm gonna be sucking dick" Chris panicked

"STOP. Both of you. No jerking off. No sucking dick. We'll switch back tonight. Let's shoot the video so that we'll be back asap. Nick get my keys. You'll be driving as I normally do." Matt took the lead of the moment and gave out orders

"Are you crazy? He's gonna kill us in that car. You know how he drives" Chris pointed at Nick aggressively

"Shut up. I'm a decent driver" Nick replied, but both of them saw the look Matt was giving them, so they took their things and went to the car

Parking lot in front od Chipotle

"See. We survived" Nick defended himself

"No, Chris is right. You can't drive on the way home" Matt said in shock and fear combined after the journey they just experienced

"Oh come on. Don't be like that. It wasn't THAT bad" Nick replied

"Sure. Tell that to the lady on the crossing that had to jump to save herself" Chris laughed as he recalled the moment

"Let's start the video?" Matt asked and both Chris and Nick nodded

Matt instinctively started. "Hey, guys. It's the Sturniolo triplets. Me, Nick and Chris..." he was interrupted by Nick. "Matt, stop. You called me Nick. I'm you and you're Chris now."

Matt:"Ah, fuck. Right. This is gonna be so confusing."

Chris:"I don't think I can pretend to be Nick. He has his mimics I can't

Nick:"I have an idea. What if we do it on purpose?"

Chris:"People will notice and call us out"

Nick:"Yeah, that's my point. Let them. Let's name the video Pretending to be each other or Body swap or something and just shoot the video. We can put some jokes in there making fun of ourselves and it could work out"

Matt:"Is that our style though? Is that something we would normally do?"

Chris:"Dude, just imagine the fanfictions om Wattpad the fans are gonna write after they see this"

Nick:"So? They already write them. Atleast we'll have a good popular video and we'll manage it even in different bodies"

They looked at each other and they knew that Nick's idea was good.

8 hours later

Chris:"Guys, Nick was right. The video was a success. People love it"

Matt:"sturniolabiggestfan88 'Nick was good at pretending to be Chris, but the other guys weren't as good. U need practice' Yeah right. Wanna see how hard we're practicing, bitch?" They laughed at the ikony of the comment

Nick:"So what if we don't swap?"

Chris:"We have to hope"

Matt:"What about the intimate part of the swap? We still need to do basic hygiene, we all got needs as we saw before, right Nick?"

Chris:"Dude, we're triplets. We couldn't be in more similar bodies. Yes we know how different we are and yet we aren't. And we know each other better than anyone else, so let's treat our bodies with respect as we would have our own. Right?"

They nodded and smiled how good their relationship together was

Chris:"Ok, now that this is out of the way, I think I got the most exploring to do. So If you'll excuse me, me and Nick's body got a date in the shower with some of his toys. Have a great night." He said not turning around to watch their reaction. Matt laughed immediately as he saw his own body looking shocked and speechless

2 years later

Nick was waiting for his boyfriend to show up. They were supposed to go to their family gathering with everyone. Nick had to get used to his new name and a different body, which he actually didn't mind at all. He also had to come out of the closet again, but now as Matt.

Matt in Chris's body basically didn't change that much. He was still straight and had a new girlfriend. They met in university

The most surprising was Chris. He got used to having Nick's body. And after some time he figured out that he was still attracted to women, but now men as well. So this bisexual king was now hooking up with everyone he fancied.

When they arrived to their home. They always hugged first. Their bond was strong even if they were far away from each other. Nick thought that after they found out that the swap was permanent, that they wouldn't speak at all. The gift was sent by some fan. They found the note eventually and found out that it was cursed. The fan was some homophobic shit who wanted to do harm to Nick.

Nick was now in his... sorry, in Matt's old bedroom. His boyfriend was passed out on the bed after the passionate sex they had. Nick looked at the side of the bed and remembered the first day when they swapped and his first jerk off session in Matt's body.

He explored the room. All of Matt and some of his stuff were there. And... no way. The gift was there. Along with the note. Nick observed it and after a moment of consideration tossed it in the trash. He picked up the note and burned it. Now feeling as if there were no open cases in his life. He went to bed, next to his boyfriend and fell asleep, happy.

"Chris, baby. What would you like for breakfast?" the female voice said. Nick opened his eyes. "Not again!"

Inbox request by @archeronfire

Can you do a three way body swap with the sturniolo triples? Specifically Chris becoming Nick, Nick becoming Matt, and Matt becoming Chris.

Hey. So this was fun, but at the same time one of the hardest stories I had to write :D

Since I didn't know much about Sturniolos, I had to ask for advice and watch a few videos, because I was worried I might screw this up. So I hope I wrote a decent story. Let me know what you think :)