#Had this image in my head yesterday night

[ficoandleo]

LEO, drop a Halloween costume try on stream and my life will be yours 🗣🗣🗣🔥🔥🔥

Well you'd better have your wish prepared for when you sell your soul to the little demon because Leo is live on TikTok, WickTok, and YouTube! "🎃Halloween Costume Try-On Stream!❤️‍🩹" Pretend I posted this on Halloween and not literally the next day!

Since he's streaming from his phone Leo does try and give it a minute to let the stream load and populate for all the earliest viewers, humming along to the royalty free, slightly spooky, lo-fi music he had playing in the background while wiggling around in a little half dance in front of his tripod.

"Hey, everyone! It's me!" Leo greets with a chipper wave of both hands. He laughed a little, shaking his head. "I think it'd be way more weird if it weren't me. Why do we always. . .anyways, hi!! Happy Halloween!"

The stream of comments and hearts increased, greeting him, and wishing him a happy Halloween. On Youtube he got a few Super Chats too, which he thanked the senders for. Everyone who paid a certain amount and above got their name read out, too.

"Soooo Halloween, right? I always do a little costumed stream with Sho-chan and we'd go around street parties or like we went to a zombie run two years ago that was super fun--and I hate running! Sho was carrying me by the end of that stream."

Newer viewers or people who missed it commented in amusement, some asking if anyone had a recording or highlights. A few people who had been there for the stream said that Leo got drunk on top of running from zombies and they were surprised at how much he could drink for such a small guy.

"But here in Darkwick apparently they do like an American Halloween thing. So there's kind of trick-or-treating? And I've never been trick-or-treating because we don't do that here in Japan! So I'm kinda excited to trick-or -treat and I was like. . .well, I need to have a really good costume for my first time trick-or-treating! And I ordered a bunch and they didn't get here until, like, last night because shipping stuff to Darkwick is a fucking nightmare?"

Several Darkwick students in chat agreed that it was a pain to order things to be delivered to the island. You'd think such an elite school wouldn't have these problems. Some people mentioned sending things to Leo and asking if they'd arrived yet, or saying that it took an unexpectedly long time for things to be delivered on their trackers as well.

"Yeah. . .sorry about that guys. I'm talking to them about seeing if there's a way I could, I dunno, pay extra to get some kind of faster processing for stuff people send me but. . .mail doesn't really work like that. You guys haven't been sending me perishable food or anything, right? You know better than that. Anyway.

"Everything gets here like yesterday afternoon and I'm like 'that's way too late for a whole stream,' so I decided I'd just do one this afternoon. And I wanted to do a trick-or-treating stream for you guys but the way my data works here it's hard to stream if I'm not somewhere with access to wifi. So I'm probably just gonna record it and edit it down for a VoD. Sorry!"

Everyone understands at least and tells him that they'll be looking forward to the VoD. Someone said they'd be handing out candy at their House and they hoped Leo would drop by.

"Oh! So trick-or-treating, for anyone who doesn't know, is like. Normally you go door-to-door and say 'trick or treat!' and get candy. And if you don't get candy you can play a trick. But since Darkwick's only got the dorms and the main buildings and some shops and a restaurant or two that's kinda lame, right? You'd run out of places real quick.

"So you go to different dorm rooms and trick-or-treat. And some people trick-or-treat, like, individually? Like they go up to people and say 'trick or treat' and it's kinda considered fair game. But also it's also totally fair game to be tricked instead of given a treat! It seems like a way smaller kind of event than what you might normally see in Shibuya but there's also only, like, a thousand people here. So it makes sense not to have a huge event. Especially since there's normally a school festival--they call it Samhain because they want it to have a fancy name--around now. But it got delayed."

Then Leo claps his hands and steps back from the camera a little. "But that's enough chatting! I bought a bunch of costumes to try out! I match with Sho every year, but he didn't wanna try on his costume with me and just said to bring it to him when I choose mine so. . .sorry, no Halloween Sho live this year. But I'll make sure he goes trick-or-treating with me so you can see what he gets to wear too. So! Let's check out my costume options!! Obviously I can't, y'know, change on stream but I'll step off-screen and you can entertain yourselves for a couple minutes while I get dressed! Be right back!"

With that explanation out the way, Leo waved and stepped off screen. Behind him his bean bag chairs had been given Halloween themed covers, a pumpkin, a ghost, and a skull--Monster, the red teddy bear he likes, is sat on the skull off to the side, and some of the chat greets him excitedly. He left a screen on his wall playing a little video of a chibi of him dressed in previous years' Halloween costumes popping up around the words "HAPPY HALLOWEEN"--one of the chibis was also with Sho, in a girl's costume that matched Leo's as always. Regular viewers would recognize the chibis as having had been redressed versions of the ones that played during other streams where he tries on clothes or puts together outfits. The artist was credited beneath the text.

"I can't see the chat, so don't say anything my mods would have to get on you for! I mean it~♥" Leo called from where he was changing out of sight. The chats proceeded to fill mostly with silly, non-punishable words or promises to be good among the usual chatter and cries that Leo was 'gone forever,' although a handful of people did get timed out or have messages deleted. He'd considered borrowing Romeo's fox robe and just buying accessories for each costume rather than getting whole costumes, but there was something less fun about that. Besides then he would have the hidden zipper on the back and someone could ruin his time by unzipping him. So his time spent changing was all realistic.

"Okay! Were you guys good? Did you behave for me~?" Leo's voice again came from off screen to herald his coming return. He also chimed in a shout out and thank you to the artist of his background graphic before he stepped back in sight, jangling gently with every step.

His first costume was grim reaper inspired, and he specified where he got every piece of the outfit from the hooded cloak to the red-tipped metal ribcage 'vest' around his torso and the matching clawed hand bone gloves going up his arms into his sleeves. Beneath the 'vest' his black shirt was nearly skin tight with gaps in it that opened to his pale tummy following the shape of the vertebrae in his spine, tucked into plain black pants. The belt took the role of the bones instead, chains looping into the shape of hip bones and dangling leg bones, bound behind his slim hips and legs by black-painted chain that blended in to the rest of the outfit.

"I could not find matching shoes that didn't look tacky to me." So he went with plain black boots with buckles, tapping them with his simple scythe. "Or a cool-looking scythe that wasn't plastic. So I'm not sure about this one! It feels, I dunno, incomplete. I really like the top and the ribcage though--I was thinking I could wear the glove bones as like a bracelet and rings instead, though. What do you guys think? Sho-chan would get like a little torn up white dress and some powdery makeup for the ghostly look, maybe we could get his hair in his face. . .and I got manacles and a chain for his ankles so it's like I'm leading him to the afterlife, y'know? I'd probably throw on some makeup too--give my face a skeletal look."

He posed a little bit, trying to read the stream of comments as they came in, although they were coming in pretty fast. He went on a little bit about the way it fit and felt, and complained some about the chains looking cool but getting a little tired of the clanging noise.

"Why do I always make Sho-chan crossdress? Because it's funny? And he looks good like that." He shrugged, closing the bottom of the loose cloak over his legs to see if maybe he could get away with having it partially closed. "Also let's be real, I'm not making him do anything. Sho's like twice my size. I can't make that guy do anything he doesn't wanna do.

"I did kinda think about crossdressing this year?" He says in response to another comment he kind of sees go past. "But no matter how I look at it it's just kind of boring if I do it. I mean I look like a guy who'd crossdress, right? Obviously I'd look good but that's not really the point, right?"

Understandably quite a few people disagreed and would have loved to see him in a skirt or a dress, or even a particularly feminine pair of shorts, something frilly or something sexy, even if it wasn't particularly Halloween themed. . .he smiled in amusement and ignored those comments. Maybe if he lost his next bet with Sho. For a while he continued to respond to some comments that he could catch and respond to superchats as well, and showed off parts of the reaper costume.

"Okay, gimme a few to try on the next one! Be back soon!"

This continued on for a while with Leo showing off a variety of costumes, some from popular media especially from this year, some from classic media or media that he liked, some his own takes on something more generic. He sources each piece, mentioned what he would do for his makeup in each one and how he would dress Sho to match, what he liked about each, and what didn't vibe with him. He conducted it very similarly to how he did other outfit streams, chatting with viewers in between everything, always kinder and sweeter with his words than he was in real life, laughing and smiling, but so skilled with his acting that he never seemed unnatural.

"Okay, okay! Last one! Be right back!"

Leo once again left the camera, stretching before getting to work changing out of his newest costume and into the final one. "This one's a bit more exposed and honestly I originally wasn't gonna bother with it because I was like 'it's autumn, it's gonna be cold!' but it's actually cozy enough today that I was like. . .maybe I can get away with this. It's not like exposed exposed where I might be considered indecent or something, and it's got a jacket so if I get cold I can just close it."

After a few minutes of fussing Leo returns in a somewhat simpler costume than his last ones.

"Honestly the thigh-high boots are gonna take some breaking in to be comfortable walking around in, so I was kinda thinking I could swap them out for like. Chaps?" He explained, turning around to show his back. "Cuz I have chaps. They're a couple shades lighter than the shorts. I'll show you the chaps in a minute."

The chat is moving a little too fast to read. The simple, platform, black thigh high boots are buckled closed with a line of metal clips and leave a few inches of Leo's upper-thigh exposed before the legs of the matching colored shorts end to keep his modesty. They hug his hips well enough that the studded belt is wholly unnecessary for anything but securing the inverted pentagram harness over his torso at the bottom. His torso is otherwise bare save for the oversized leather jacket hanging more off of his arms than his shoulders and a pair of somewhat low hanging chains. Without his shirt quite a few of his viewers are learning his navel and nipples are pierced. Around his neck, along with his headphones as usual, is a choker in which he's clipped his yellow Vagastrom broach.

"Honestly it's a lot of black and grey and silver." He turns around again, showing the way his wings and tail, also decorated with chains, originate from somewhere under the jacket and have some sort of wiring in them allowing him to reposition them slightly. He reached up to adjust the pair of ring-decorated horns on his head too. "I usually do more monochrome colors but it feels like too much? I kinda wanted some gold accents but it made me think too much of my house uniform. Oh, and the jacket was made by--"

He read off the name of the fan who'd sent him the jacket, repositioning it so the design on the back was visible--his own name, in a spraypainted design, the O stylized as a heart. He faced forward again. The chat hadn't slowed down by much. He had to catch up on donations--one asked if he was wearing pointed teeth, and he pulled his lips aside to show them off. Another reminded him that he mentioned possibly wearing chaps instead of the boots and he said they were right before running off to swap the boots for another pair that slightly resembled hooves the way they poked out from under the chaps.

"So for makeup I was mostly thinking I'd just make the bases of the horns blend in more. Maybe try and put some kind of marking on my stomach? That'll be hard to do myself so I might see if Romi-sama will do it for me. . . ." He ran his fingers above the hem of his shorts and around his belly button to show around where he wanted the marking. "But also maybe it'd be too busy. What do you guys think? Oh and I wanted to do, like, claw nails or rings too. I was thinking gradient dying my fingers but I don't want the color to get stuck. . . ."

Reading the chat was probably not possible at its current speed. Leo caught that people were vying for the boots or the chaps, suggestions that he wear something beneath the top harness and not just go topless, people who preferred a previous costume. . .he fiddled with the tail again, wrapping it around his leg then bending his leg at the knee to see if it'd be comfortable to walk that way. He continued to give special attention to superchats and donations with comments, as they were the only thing he could really read.

"Oh, Sho? I can't choose between a nun costume and a succubus for him to match me. I'll see what we decide on when we go out. . .probably have to go with the nun since his outfit probably wouldn't cover enough and we might end up in trouble." Leo muses, pausing while eying the camera. "Aaand as I say that he's texting me."

Leo comes closer to the camera, checking his texts with his lips parted in focus, inadvertantly showing his false fangs. The comments enjoy this closeup as much as one would expect. "Yep, he's on his way back. And I've got clothes all over my room! Okay, I've gotta clean this up and start getting ready! Sorry I gotta cut it like this, guys! I'll make up for it with a longer stream another time, okay?"

Leo starts to go over his stream schedule for the coming week and gives an estimate for when the trick-or-treating video will be out, although he admits he doesn't know how long they'll be out or just how much will be worth sharing in the first place so editing it down could take more or less time. He thanks his top donors and his chat mods, and everybody for coming and supporting him, and he tells the others at Darkwick he hopes he'll see them when he and Sho go out.

Finally, he signs out as he always does, smiling brightly and making a heart with his fingers, telling his viewers he loves them and will see them again soon.

[gender-euphowrya]

speaking of cyberpunk the fucking joshua quest?????

[sparklingchim]

game on 02 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.9k

genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: 18+

warnings: lots of smoochies !! 🤭, their first kiss <3, umm mentions of jk's infamous threesome again 😔, koo talks abt taking girls in missionary what can i say he is a man

summary: jungkook and you practice acting for the cameras. kissing him feels more right than you anticipated.

a/n: yayy chapter 2 is here!!!! <3 writing this was truly saur much fun n i hope u have fun reading too !!! 😋

read chappie one here

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"Just kiss me."

"Hold on a second."

"We really need to practise this."

"I know, just give me a minute."

You scoot away from Jungkook on the couch. You were sitting so close, almost about to kiss him actually, but his intense, doe-eyed gaze made you pause, needing a grounding breath.

You’ve never been this close to his face, and somehow, you can’t seem to cross the invisible line that keeps you from just pressing your mouth on his. Jungkook’s your friend, after all. You’ve known him since he was five and once saw him get his head stuck at school, so of course it’s weird.

You press your lips together in an attempt to focus, and lean in again, but once your eyes meet his, a smile urges on your mouth.

"Oh my god." Jungkook’s frustrated sigh cuts the air. "This can’t already be doomed to failure because of a simple kiss."

"It’s not! I just need to mentally prepare myself."

"I feel...offended? Kinda?" Jungkook weaves his fingers through his hair. "I’ve never had to convince someone to kiss me."

"It’s not you. I promise!" you say, reaching for his knee. "Under any other circumstance, if we weren’t friends, I’d love to kiss you. You’re hot and cute, but the situation we’re in makes me feel so stupid. It’s absurd."

Jungkook cringes when you call him cute and removes your hand off his knee.

Yesterday, when Jungkook showed up unannounced, it took him full ten minutes to convince you he wasn’t pulling a prank on you.

Who would believe their friend begging you to fake date them? It’s ridiculous. Only happens in the fictional world.

But then Jungkook showed you the pap picture that was circulating online. The comments and gossip were nasty and you knew he was caught up in a deep mess.

In the photo, Jungkook was surrounded by two girls, his arms draped casually around their waists as they stumbled out of the club, a half-full drink lazily held in his hand. His hair was a tousled mess, likely from the girls running their fingers through it, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a small peek into his defined chest. It was bold, provocative — definitely not the ideal image of a responsible twenty-year-old football rookie.

Probably the worst pap pic you’ve seen of him so far. And the worst timing too.

"You were wasted," you commented, staring at the article he was showing you on his phone.

"And I had so much fun last night." His voice was tinged with frustration, like a child whose favourite toy had just been snatched away. "But then I woke up to this picture, and a flood of missed calls and texts." He rubbed his hands over his face, exhaling sharply. "They just had to ruin it for me."

Noticing your raised eyebrow, Jungkook quickly backtracked. "No, I know it’s my fault too. I shouldn’t have done this right before the World Cup, especially after what I promised. I just hate how everything turns into such a big deal, just because... well, just because I’m me."

The idea of fake dating Jungkook had seemed absurd, something out of a rom-com rather than real life. But the more he explained the pressure he was under, the more you understood why he needed this.

Jungkook was your best friend, and if kissing him in public could save his career, why not help him?

While you got ready for meeting his manager, stepping out of your comfy, rotting-at-home clothes, which consisted of little shorts and an oversized t-shirt (you think it’s actually Jungkook’s, but you’re not quite sure since it’s been in your closet for years now), and slipping into a casual, more presentable outfit, Jungkook busied himself fixing your laundry machine.

Jungkook’s manager knows you well – his entire team does. You are known as Jungkook’s close friend and had been spotted with him on multiple occasions.

Taesung greeted you warmly, though surprise flickered across his face when Jungkook introduced you as the solution to the fake dating plan.

You felt Taesung’s gaze assessing you, weighing your suitability for the role. Jungkook’s PR agent mirrored his scepticism, tilting her head in doubt. They exchanged uncertain glances, which made you nervous, but Jungkook was determined. Jungkook wasn’t Jungkook if he didn’t get what he wanted. With a few persuasive words and his usual charm, he quickly won Taesung over, who sighed and leaned back in his chair, conceding defeat.

"We need to establish the narrative from the start," Taesung said seriously. "The media will dig into your background, and they’ll want to know if there’s anyone else in the picture. So, to be clear, you’re officially single. No boyfriend, no complicated past relationships that could surface. We don’t need any messy stories."

You assured them that there was none. Multiple times. No angry exes, no secret relationships – your personal life was as drama-free as it could get.

Taesung slid a document across the desk.

"This ensures that whatever happens, no details of this arrangement-"

Jungkook’s hand shot out, halting the paper. "No," he said firmly. "She doesn’t need to sign anything."

"Jungkook, it’s just a formality," Jiwoo began, but Jungkook insisted.

"I trust ___. She’s not just anybody. She’s my best friend. If she says she won’t talk, she won’t talk. The NDA isn’t necessary."

"It’s okay," you assured him gently.

Jungkook shook his head. "No, this is ridiculous. You’re not signing a stupid contract."

After more arguing, his manager eventually relented.

Jiwoo outlined the plan in more detail with Taesung – public appearances, social media posts, carefully orchestrated moments that would sell the story to the public. You felt a bit intimidated by the pressure, but you’d get used to it. After all, this arrangement is only for a few months – just until his management can announce that you’d mutually decided to break up on good terms.

But you both need to practise before stepping in front of the cameras.

Which leads you to this moment, a day later, sitting on your couch trying to practice how to act like a couple. And it’s not going well at all.

"Okay, let’s start from the basics then," Jungkook suggests. He rises to his feet, offering you his hand. "Hold my hand."

You gingerly accept his hand, standing up as well.

"See, don’t we look cute?" Jungkook drags you to the mirror. "Or maybe – let’s intertwine our fingers. I think that would look better." He holds your interlaced hands up between the two of you, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. "So cute, right?"

A giggle bubbles in your throat. "You act like you’ve never had a girlfriend."

"Well, it has been a while," he admits, the slightest sulk on his lips. "I’m too busy for relationships." He swings your hands. "The only times I ever hold a girl’s hand is in missionary, above their head when-"

"Jungkook," you interrupt quickly before he can delve any deeper into the story. You give him a mock glare, but there’s no hiding the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Didn’t we both agree on only talking about your bed stories after I’ve had at least one bottle of soju – preferably two, so I can mentally brace myself?"

You love him, you really do, but you don’t want to hear about his bed stories, unless you’re the slightest bit tipsy at first.

"Oh, yeah." He shakes his head apologetically. "Forgot about that."

"Wait, maybe that’s what we should do!" you exclaim as an idea pops into your mind. Your hand slips out of his, and you take a step toward the kitchen. "I think there are a few bottles of soju in the fridge."

"We’re not getting drunk to build up the courage to kiss," he insists. "We shouldn’t need alcohol to pretend we’re into each other."

Jungkook pulls you closer to him, and you stumble slightly, but his hand instinctively moves to the small of your back, steadying you.

"Fine," you sigh dramatically, hand on his chest. "Was just an idea to make this easier for us." The fabric of his shirt is extremely soft and your fingers glide over it.

"I mean, it’s not like we’re complete strangers. And they know it too. We’ve been through enough to pull this off without breaking a sweat."

He’s is right. The public knows you’re one of Jungkook’s closest friends. It wouldn’t be totally unbelievable that you two might have fallen in love.

After all, you’ve always been comfortable with each other —hugging, cuddling during movie nights, play-fight over silly things just to annoy each other. You’ve shared quiet moments, like when you’d fall asleep on his shoulder after a long day or when he’d run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly while you talked. There were times when Jungkook was exhausted and crashed at your place, your fingers gently scratching his head as he slept peacefully. You’ve kissed each other’s cheeks in thanks without hesitation.

Jungkook’s touch isn’t foreign to you.

And still, the thought of acting like you’re in love when you’re not feels strange. Sure, you’ve always been physically close, but this was different. This time, every gesture would be for an audience, every touch would carry a different meaning. It wasn’t just casual anymore.

"I guess," you reply, fiddling with the hem of his oversized t-shirt, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I think it’s just weird to be this close for show."

Jungkook watches you for a moment, his eyes softening as he considers your words. "Yeah," he murmurs. "But it’s not like we’re faking the friendship part. The rest...we’ll figure out." His fingers clasp your hip, the pads of his fingers gently digging into your flesh. "Don’t think about it too much," he says. "When we have our first public appearance as a couple, pretend like the cameras aren’t there, act nonchalant. Just... y’know. You and me."

You pout, an involuntarily frustrated grumble leaving your lips as you drop your forehead on his chest.

"I hope I’ll do well under all the attention."

You’ve dealt with your fair share of noisy people trying to pry into your relationship with Jungkook, but so far, it’s been somewhat manageable.

"Just you and me," Jungkook repeats, his tone softer and more assured this time. "Nothing can happen to you when I’m there."

You glance up at him, taking in the gentle lines of his face.

"Maybe you should’ve hired a girl that can deal well with attention," you voice your thoughts.

"No." Jungkook’s immediate response rolls off harshly on his tongue. "You were my first thought. I wouldn’t have done this with anyone else but you."

"I was your first choice?" Giddiness makes your face shine.

"Yeah. I don’t think I would’ve felt comfortable with anyone but you."

"Be honest, you just really wanna kiss me."

You stand on your tippy toes, a silly smile spreading across your face.

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, a teasing glint buried in his eyes.

"I think you do."

With a surge of confidence, you take a small step closer, your heart beating a little faster as you close the gap between you and Jungkook. Your lips meet in a gentle, fleeting touch. The contact only lasts for a moment before you pull back, your eyes searching his for a reaction.

"That was a smooch. Not a kiss."

You frown upon hearing him complain.

"What, you want to make out with me in public?"

Jungkook sniffs a laugh. "No, but maybe a little more than how fifth graders kiss."

"You’re a kissing expert now?" you quip back, narrowing your eyes at him.

Jungkook leans in slightly. "I just know what I like."

The challenge in his voice sparks something in you. "Then show me how you like it."

His gaze drops to your lips, and a flutter of excitement spreads in your tummy. It’s unexpected and thrilling and it catches you off guard.

Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your back, slowly glides up, his fingers curling around the side of your face, his thumb brushing delicately against your cheekbone.

Your breath hitches as he leans in. His lips meet yours again, but this time there’s more weight behind the contact – still soft, but deeper, more intentional. His lips move slowly and there’s a warmth to it, a tenderness that makes your heart race even as the kiss remains gentle. He tilts his head slightly, deepening the connection just enough to make you melt into him.

The teasing atmosphere lingers in the back of your mind, but for now, it’s pushed aside by the gentle pressure of his lips on yours.

Kissing Jungkook doesn’t feel weird – which makes it a little weird.

When you both finally pull back, it’s gradual. You can feel his breath, warm and steady, mingling with your own.

"Like that," he whispers, his voice barely audible, yet it sends a shiver down your spine. "You’re a good kisser."

You pull back completely. "Excuse me?" you say. "You were doubting my kissing abilities?"

"No, not at all!" Jungkook shakes his head, amusement crinkling his eyes as he gazes at your sulky face. "You’re just a very good kisser. Like, super gentle and smooth."

Heat crawls up your cheeks. You ignore the flush of warmth and keep your composure. "Have you been using the lip balm I got you? Your lips are soft."

"I know, right? Not chapped at all anymore."

He traces two fingers along his bottom lip and your eyes follow the motion, finding yourself inexplicably drawn to his lips.

"Are we done practising?"

"Do you think we looked natural?" Jungkook’s hand slips into yours once more. While he is focused on the mirror, adjusting the way your bodies fit together – tugging you closer, alternating between holding your hand and interlacing your fingers – your mind is still replaying the memory of the tender press of his lips. "For me, it felt pretty natural. Not awkward at all. What do you think?"

It’s the simplicity with which he says it that draws a short laugh out of you.

The sound grabs his attention. "What?"

"You’re just...extremely serious about this. I don’t think they’ll analyse the way we hold hands, Kook."

"But that’s their favourite thing to do," Jungkook replies. "The gossip mills love analysing every step you take, where your eyes wander, who you smile at." A note of bitterness threads through his words.

He’s been playing pro for just two years and has fallen victim to greedy people intruding on his life so many times already. Former friends who leaked private conversations, acquaintances who turned their brief interactions into tabloid fodder, even strangers who felt entitled to a piece of him just because he was in the public eye.

Jungkook searched for solace and silence at your place many times, trying to escape the madness. In the quiet of your dorm, breathing felt easier.

You never asked questions, never pried. In a world where everyone seemed out to get something from him, you just let him be, offering him the comfort of your presence without demanding anything in return.

"People were just criticising this dude – ah, who was it again?" Jungkook stares at the ceiling, raking through his thoughts. "I can’t remember his name, but this guy was getting called out for choosing the booth seat while making his girlfriend sit in the aisle seat."

"The aisle seat? Come on, it’s an unwritten rule that-" You fall silent once you catch Jungkook’s pointed expression. "I mean, yeah. It’s definitely wrong to make a big deal about it. Maybe she prefers sitting there," you shrug.

"But do you see what I mean?" he asks. "Whether you intend to or not, you’re always judging what others do. And that judgement only intensifies when it involves a celebrity."

"Ah, when did you become so famous Jeon Jungkook?" You sigh, looking down at your linked hands.

"I know, right? Two years ago, no one would’ve cared if I had a threesome." He shakes his head in disbelief. "And now I am being punished for it—kicked off the national team, and my best friend has to save me by fake dating me."

"I feel like this would make a good movie," you giggle.

“We have to practise hard, then," he says.

You pull your phone from your pocket. "What if we film ourselves kissing so we can monitor it better?" You set up your phone on a nearby shelf and position yourselves in front of the camera. "Don’t engaged couples do this? I feel like we’re practising for our wedding kiss."

"Oh, butterflies."

"Huh?" You stare at the way he holds his hand against his tummy.

"You just told me you want to marry me. That gave me butterflies."

You slap his arm. "Stop being silly, we have a whole nation to fool that we’re in love."

~

Hang outs with Jungkook often end with the two of you lounging on the couch, snacks scattered everywhere, and a movie playing on the TV.

"Next one?" Jungkook asks from his spot beside you, inching closer with his pleading doe eyes.

You try to push him away by the, but he doesn’t budge.

"I need to study. Like, for real." You had warned him before starting the movie, agreeing to watch only one, but he still tried his luck.

He holds up one finger. "Just one."

You push him off your body, and this time he allows it, his back slumping against the couch. The grumble of complaint in his throat gets muffled by his pursed lips.

"You’re smart. The material is probably set in your brain anyway. No need to revise anything."

You scoff at his bratty words.

"So you won’t ever need to ditch hangouts for football practice because you’re already so good at it?"

"Well, no." He drags the word out, brows furrowed as he considers your question, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. "But I know you don’t need to study as much as you do. You’re just naturally smart."

"I wish, but I ace my exams because I study as much as I do."

"Aish," Jungkook mutters, standing up from the couch and stretching his limbs. His toned tummy peeks out from under his lifted shirt.

"Karina will be home soon anyway," you say. "And I’m not ready to play pretend in front of her yet." The thought of confessing to your roommate that Jungkook is now your boyfriend makes you shudder.

It was one of the conditions that made you briefly reconsider if you could really pull this off or if Jungkook should find another girl. You didn’t just have to act in front of the cameras – everyone had to believe that you and Jungkook are a couple, including your friends and family. You dread the day you have to tell your parents.

You know they once secretly hoped Jungkook would become your boyfriend when you were older, but as he became famous and the public started scrutinising his every move, your parents grew wary of his wild, reckless side.

You follow Jungkook to the door.

"You think she’ll believe us?"

"I dunno," you shrug. "Not sure if she’ll buy it. She’ll probably be suspicious since I’ve never talked about you in that way when we gossip, but I think we’ve practised enough to at least make it look like we love each other."

Jungkook nods and hugs you briefly. "We’ll figure it out." He steps out of your apartment, typing on his phone. "My manager sent me details about our first public appearance." He scans the text, but quickly looks up at you again with an annoyed frown. "Ah, so many words. I’ll just forward you the messages." With a sweet smile and a quick wave, he starts to leave, but you tug at the back of his shirt.

You cup his face, pulling him down to you, and plant a kiss on his lips.

"You’re my boyfriend now. Act like it."

[blackenedsnow]

helloooooo, your writing is amazingggggg and i was hoping it would be okay if i requested a shadowww x reader. Where Maybe sonic ask shadow to bring medicine to you (to try and introduce you to shadow as your sick with something or have a major injury, etc). Shadow prehaps is annoyed but agrees anyways, then however when he meets you sees maria in you. Then veryday to be sure you get better shows up in the morning to help take care of you, and slowly the two become friends then prehaps at the end share a kiss and become lovers? Idk it sounded cute in my head lol.

familiar

WARNING: Illness

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog x Sick! Reader

NOTE: This is such a cute request and I'm pretty proud of this! Sending you all the love, and I hope this brightens your day a little! Take care of yourself <333

SUMMARY: Shadow reluctantly delivers medicine to you at Sonic’s insistence, but upon meeting you, he’s struck by a haunting familiarity.

It was late afternoon when Shadow approached the house tucked away at the edge of the city, a small bag of medicine clutched in his gloved hand. The only reason he was here, he reminded himself, was because Sonic had all but begged him to.

“Come on, Shadow,” Sonic had said earlier, exasperated but hopeful. “They’re too sick to go anywhere, and I’m tied up with something. Just drop it off and say hi. You might even like them!”

Shadow had scoffed at that. “Highly unlikely.”

Yet here he was, standing at your door. He knocked, sharp and deliberate, and waited.

A muffled voice from inside called, “Coming!”

The door creaked open, revealing you. Despite the exhaustion evident in your eyes and the pallor of your complexion, you greeted him with a weak but genuine smile.

“Oh, you must be… Shadow?” you asked hesitantly.

He nodded curtly, holding out the medicine. “Sonic sent me. He thought you might need this.”

You accepted the bag with a quiet “thank you,” looking up at him with an expression so open, so trusting, that it stopped him in his tracks. For a fleeting moment, he was no longer standing at your doorstep but aboard the ARK, looking into the kind eyes of someone he thought he’d lost forever.

Maria.

The resemblance wasn’t physical, but there was something about your demeanor—gentle, unassuming, and kind despite the pain you were clearly in—that tugged at a memory buried deep in his chest.

“You okay?” you asked, noticing his prolonged silence.

He blinked, snapping himself out of the moment. “Fine. Just… don’t forget to take the medicine.”

You chuckled lightly, the sound hoarse but pleasant. “I won’t. Thanks again, Shadow.”

He nodded again, turning on his heel and disappearing into the fading daylight.

To Shadow’s own surprise, he returned the next morning.

It had been a restless night. Thoughts of Maria swirled in his mind, but they mingled with the image of your weary yet kind face. He told himself he was simply being thorough, ensuring you were following the instructions for the medication.

When you opened the door again, wrapped in a blanket and looking just as surprised as you were grateful, Shadow felt the smallest pang of relief.

“You’re back,” you said, stepping aside to let him in.

“You didn’t seem capable of taking care of yourself yesterday,” he replied bluntly, though there was no malice in his tone.

You laughed softly. “Fair enough.”

It became a routine. Every morning, Shadow arrived with something—soup, tea, a fresh supply of tissues—and checked on you. At first, his visits were brief and businesslike. He would make sure you had what you needed and leave with little more than a nod. But as the days passed, the conversations grew longer.

You learned to expect his dry wit and sharp observations, and he found himself oddly drawn to your quiet resilience. Despite how miserable you felt, you always thanked him sincerely, your gratitude genuine and unassuming.

“You don’t have to keep doing this, you know,” you said one morning as he set a cup of tea on your bedside table.

“I know,” he replied simply, sitting in the chair he’d claimed as his own.

“Then why?”

He hesitated, his crimson eyes flicking to the floor. “You…” he paused, looking back at you with a sigh. “I don’t know.”

You didn’t press him, sensing the weight of his words, but your soft “Okay, thank you.” carried more meaning than either of you acknowledged.

By the time you were well enough to venture outside again, the bond between you and Shadow was undeniable.

“You don’t have to come by anymore,” you said one evening as he walked you back to your door after a short outing. “But… I’d miss you if you didn’t.”

He paused, his gaze meeting yours. There was something unspoken in his eyes, something vulnerable.

“I’d miss you too,” he admitted, the words slow but sincere.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His eyes widened, and for the first time since you’d met him, Shadow looked genuinely flustered.

“Thank you, Shadow,” you whispered. “For everything.”

His lips quirked into the smallest of smiles, a rare and precious sight. “I... You’re welcome.”

And from that moment on, his visits were no longer about ensuring your recovery—they were about seeing you.

[pup-pee]

DONT MAKE FUN OF HIM HES TRYING 2 FIND IT

((he cant feel it, 2 muhc hair))

been seenin' this meme everywhere,,, he been rattling in my head for awhile now lol

[mononijikayu]

nonsense christmas — nanami kento.

“Tell you what, Kento.” you said, voice low and teasing. “If you don’t kiss me under a mistletoe by the end of the night, I’ll stop. No more flirting, no more teasing. I’ll leave you alone.” Kento tilted his head slightly, as if considering your words. “And if I do?” Your breath hitched at the question, but you managed a grin. “Then I’ll finally have my Christmas wish.” His lips parted softly, as though he were about to respond, but instead, he exhaled slowly, his warm gaze dipping to your lips for the briefest moment before meeting your bright teasing eyes again.  “You’re impossible.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: AFAB! Reader, Safe For Work (SFW), Romance, Crushes, Getting Together, Classmates, Friends to Lovers, Persuasion, Teasing, Teenagers, Feelings, Friendship, Fluff, First Love, Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Humor, Domesticity, Slice of Life, Mild Angst, Idiots In Love, Light-Hearted, Confessions, Pining, Kissing, Mistletoe Kiss, Christmas;

WORD COUNT: 5k words.

NOTE: nanami kento come to the front because??? you made your lover wait for this long??? but its okay guys, he'll love you forever so that he'll make up for his making you wait. anyway, i hope that you enjoy christmas!!! ill come back with more stuff!!! i love you all <3

box it up, christmas hun! (santa kayu 2024)

main masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

IT WAS THAT TIME OF THE YEAR. The ballroom felt alive, sparkling with the magic of the season. Music drifted through the air, a soft, lilting melody that seemed to heighten the intimacy of the moment. You couldn't help but notice how the warm golden light cast a soft glow on Nanami Kento's sharp features, making him look even more handsome than usual. His presence in the crowd was magnetic, his quiet strength standing out against the festive chaos of the room.

You couldn’t help but admit it: you liked this man too much. Nanami Kento was just that man. More than anyone else in this room. Maybe even more than anyone in the entire world. It was a thought that lingered in your mind far too often, but you couldn’t shake it, not when every moment with him felt like the only thing that mattered.

You decided that he was the one the moment you both were at Jujutsu High. The very first time you saw him, sitting there in the classroom, casually dressed in his uniform, a book in his hands. The image was burned into your memory, as clear as if it had happened yesterday. The way he looked—so effortlessly cool, so calm, so utterly engrossed in his reading. It could’ve been plucked straight from the pages of a shoujo manga.

And yet, as much as it was cliché, it was perfect. Every detail about that moment was perfect. His sandy blond hair, the way it fell in messy waves over his brow, the soft crease of his shirt, the relaxed way he rested his chin in his hand as he flipped the page. You could almost hear the soundtrack of a gentle string instrument playing in your mind as you watched him, caught in a moment that felt as if it had been orchestrated just for you.

You could still remember the flutter in your chest, that instant of realization. It wasn’t just admiration. It was more. It was the kind of feeling that felt destined, as if the universe had conspired to place you in that moment, in that room, with him. And just like that, you were hooked.

You didn’t even need to know him then to know that you wanted him. His presence was magnetic, his energy effortless, and you found yourself thinking of nothing but how perfect it would be to spend the rest of your life with him.

Looking back now, you could trace the beginnings of your feelings to that very moment—so simple, yet so profound. A single snapshot in time that made you realize that sometimes, the best things in life happen when you least expect them. That moment with him, so ordinary and yet so extraordinary, felt like fate pulling you toward something you didn’t even know you wanted.

And now, here you were, so far from that classroom, so far from the days when the idea of him seemed like an impossible dream, and yet… it was real. He was here, and he was yours. You smiled softly to yourself, your heart full as you looked at him, knowing that it all started with one perfect moment—and you would always fall for him, every time, in every way, for the rest of your life.

The memory of that moment still lingered in your mind, vivid despite the years that had passed. You had spent weeks psyching yourself up, rehearsing your words in front of Haibara, who always smiled and encouraged you.

“He’s too serious, but you’ll break through!” Haibara had said with his usual sunny grin. “You’re good for him, you know? Like sunshine cutting through all those storm clouds he carries around.”

Those words had fueled your determination, and when the day finally came, you’d found him sitting under the big tree near the practice field, reading. His tie had been loosened, his sleeves rolled up, and he looked so effortlessly put-together that it made your chest tighten.

“Kento, hey.” you’d called softly, your voice shaky.

He’d looked up, his expression calm as always, though his brow furrowed slightly when he saw the nervous way you fidgeted with your hands. You shouldn’t be nervous like this in front of him, but you were. It was hard, when you felt overwhelmed by someone. 

“Can I talk to you?” you’d asked, and he’d nodded, setting his book aside.

The confession spilled out in a rush, your words tumbling over each other as you tried to make sense of your feelings. You’d told him how much you admired his dedication, how his quiet strength made you feel safe, how you couldn’t stop thinking about him. By the end, your cheeks burned, and your hands trembled.

“I like you, Kento.” you had finished, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nanami Kento had listened without interrupting, his expression steady but unreadable. When you finished, he let out a quiet sigh, his caramel gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting yours.

“I don’t think I can give you the answer you’re looking for.” he had said, his voice even but kind. “At least, not right now.”

The words had stung, but they hadn’t been a rejection. You nodded, forcing a smile. “That’s okay, Kento. Don’t worry.” you’d said, and you meant it. You didn’t want to pressure him or push him into something he wasn’t ready for.

Haibara had found you afterward, your head resting on your knees as you tried to process everything. “How’d it go?” he’d asked, sitting beside you.

“He didn’t say no, Haibara.” you’d replied quietly, your lips twitching into a small smile. “That’s something, right?”

Haibara had nudged your shoulder gently. “It’s more than something. He’s just the kind of guy who overthinks everything. You’ve planted the seed, though. Give him time.”

But time had passed, and Nanami Kento left Jujutsu High not long after. You never got another chance to talk to him like that again. You told yourself you were content loving him from afar, finding solace in the way your heart still fluttered at the thought of him.

But when he returned, something in you had stirred—a flicker of hope, fragile yet insistent. Maybe, just maybe, things could be different now. Time has changed both of you. The boy who had quietly declined your feelings at Jujutsu High had grown into a man, more self-assured but still carrying that same steady, composed demeanor that had drawn you to him in the first place.

You were adults now, and that alone made you believe there was a chance. Life has taught you patience, resilience, and the courage to keep trying, even when the odds seemed slim. That was why you hadn’t given up on him.

And so, you pursued him.

Every opportunity to be near him, to share a moment, you seized with the quiet determination that had defined your feelings for years. You sought him out for coffee when you knew he preferred a quiet café to the bustling city. You’d “accidentally” bump into him at the farmers’ market, pretending it was a coincidence even though you’d memorized his routine.

“Kento!” you’d say with a teasing grin when he raised a suspicious brow at you. “What a coincidence running into you here. Do you always buy the same sourdough every Saturday morning?”

He’d sigh, but there was a faint twitch at the corner of his lips, a ghost of a smile he didn’t quite let show. “You’re persistent.”

“Someone’s got to make sure you don’t spend your weekends brooding, you know?” you’d reply, nudging his shoulder. “Come on, loosen up!”

It became a habit, this delicate dance of seeking his company without being too obvious about your intentions. You’d ask him to spar under the guise of “staying sharp” though the truth was, you just liked the way he’d carefully correct your stance or the brief flicker of admiration in his eyes when you managed to land a hit.

“You’ve improved, a lot.” he’d say, his voice calm but laced with sincerity, and it would make your heart race.

“Good teacher, as always!” you’d reply, hoping he couldn’t see how much his approval meant to you.

Every moment with Kento, no matter how mundane, felt like a gift. Whether it was sharing a quiet cup of coffee on a rainy morning, or simply sitting in comfortable silence while reading, there was something in the way he looked at you, spoke to you, and allowed you to be near him that made everything feel extraordinary.

And though he didn’t openly reciprocate your pursuit, even after all these years. Never rushing into declarations of affection or sweeping gestures—he didn’t push you away, either. It was a slow process, but he let you in, bit by bit, his walls coming down in small, subtle ways.

You could see it in the way he’d glance at you when he thought you weren’t looking, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You noticed it in the way he trusted you enough to share a casual comment or a fleeting thought during the moments when he felt most comfortable.

One evening, you found yourselves sitting on the couch in his modestly minimal apartment. The sound of the rain pattering against the window and the occasional crackle of the radiator filled the air as the two of you shared a bowl of popcorn. 

Nanami Kento looked so effortlessly at ease, his long legs stretched out and his sweater sleeves pushed up to his forearms as he focused on a historical documentary you’d both stumbled upon online.You leaned your head on his shoulder, your voice soft as you broke the comfortable quiet.

“You know, you’re not as cold as you pretend to be, Kento.” you said, stealing another handful of popcorn.

He glanced at you briefly, his lips parting slightly in surprise before he let out a small, amused chuckle. “Not cold?”

“You’re warm, always.” you said with a grin. “You let me in. You don’t push me away, even when you could.”

There was a moment of silence as Kento stared at the television, his hand resting on the couch beside you. His expression wasn’t guarded, but it wasn’t entirely open either—just enough for you to read the smallest hint of vulnerability.

“I guess I never really had a reason to push you away.” he finally said, his voice low but steady. “Never.”

His words lingered in the air for a moment, and you could tell he’d chosen them carefully. His voice had a softness to it that was rare for him, but just enough for you to feel the weight of his trust.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, catching the faint glow of the television reflecting off his glasses. “Why’s that?” you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you.

He hesitated for a moment, his shoulders shifting as he adjusted his position, and then he looked at you fully. “Because you make things easier,you make life feel kinder, in some ways.” he admitted, his words simple but honest. “You don’t ask for much, you listen, and you’re just there.”

You held your breath for a moment, your heart tightening at his words. His walls had come down, even if only by a fraction, and you could feel it. His tender tone, his presence, his warmth—it all felt so sincere. Too sincere for you to handle.

“I care about you, Kento.” you said softly, unsure if he truly understood the depth of your feelings.

His caramel gaze lingered on you for a moment, his hand reaching for the bowl of popcorn absentmindedly. His lips pressed together, his expression unreadable, before he looked back at the screen, the conversation shifting back to the documentary.

But the weight of his words, and his willingness to let you in, lingered with you, wrapping you in a warmth that felt both fragile and strong. You knew there was still much more to uncover with Kento, but for now, this….his presence, his openness, his choice to let you stay—it felt like it was more than enough.

And sometimes, enough was everything.

But sometimes, you know that doesn’t fill the hole.

You still wanted more than what enough was.

And that was human of you, truthfully enough.

You weren’t naive enough to think it would be easy. Nothing about life, especially when it came to love, had ever been simple. You knew this, just as you knew there was a layer of reluctance in Kento—a hesitation, a kind of guarded distance he fought to keep even when you could feel the pull between you both.

Kento was, and still is, someone who struggles with the idea of letting go completely. His walls were strong, built from years of experience, loss, and quiet battles that no one but him could fully understand. It was clear to you that he struggled with the need to distance himself.

As if pulling back were his only defense against the weight of inevitable heartache. His fear of loss, perhaps, weighed heaviest on his mind, an unspoken ache that lingered just beneath the surface. And he’s never gotten over it.

He never told you, not in words, though you could feel it. Sometimes, late at night, you could see it in his tired caramel eyes or hear it in the hesitancy of his voice. He still dreams of Yu Haibara sometimes, in the most grievous ways.

And it was there in his moments of quiet, the small ways he hesitated to open up, even when you wanted him to. His reluctance was both a shield and a barrier, but it didn’t mean he didn’t care. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to feel things he does for you.

Because even through that fear, even through his uncertainty, you knew he still wanted you close. He still wanted you around him. His need wasn’t entirely spoken, but you could sense it in the way his hand would linger near yours, in the way his shoulders would relax just a bit when you sat beside him, in the way his smiles felt so much warmer when they were aimed at you.

He wanted your companionship. Your warmth. Your smiles. Even if just for a little while.

And you found yourself wondering if you could ever bridge that gap, if you could ease away the weight of his fears, of his walls, just enough to allow him to breathe. But you knew it wouldn’t come easily. It wasn’t about convincing him or rushing him. It was about staying close without suffocating, about being the kind of presence that felt like home without overwhelming his heart.

So you stayed. Patient. Gentle. Hopeful.

Because sometimes, love wasn’t about having all the answers. Sometimes, it was just about simply the ability to be there. But of course, that didn’t mean you didn’t like being playful with him sometimes. 

Sometimes you ended up teasing, flirting absentmindedly when the mood suited you. It kept things light, kept the tension from building too heavily between you both. And you knew Kento liked it, even if he would never openly admit it.

Now, you watched him, standing by one of the tall windows with his usual composed grace. The snow was falling outside, the icy tendrils of white dancing against the backdrop of the gray sky, and it cast a dreamy, ethereal glow over his figure. 

His sharp handsome features looked even more striking in the pale light, his stoicism seemingly as solid as ever, but something about his posture seemed a bit softer, more contemplative, more… approachable.

He had a half-full glass of champagne in his hand, the bubbles dancing at the surface as if mirroring the cold, soft beauty of the snow. His gaze was fixed outside, distant, a world away from the warm interior you occupied.

You felt that familiar pull—the urge to go to him, to close the distance, to connect. It wasn’t a conscious thing, really. It just happened. And as you took a step toward him, you couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at your lips.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you took his hand gently, drawing his attention as you swayed toward him. His stoicism faltered, ever so slightly, his usual confidence wavering under the warmth of your smile.

“Care for a dance?” you asked, your voice light, playful.

His eyes flickered down at you, the quiet surprise in them both unexpected and endearing. He hesitated for only a heartbeat before nodding, his lips parting into the faintest, almost-smile. “I suppose one dance couldn’t hurt.”

You held his hand as you moved into a slow, natural rhythm, the sound of the music faint in the background as you swayed together. His movements were smooth, calculated, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders ease as he allowed himself to follow your lead. His fingers were strong, steady, warm as they pressed into your hand, grounding you.

For a moment, everything felt still. The soft sound of the snow outside, the faint music, the warmth of his touch—everything blended into this gentle, fleeting moment that felt like it belonged to just the two of you.

You met his gaze, playful and soft, as you twirled, and he followed you easily, his composure blending seamlessly into the rhythm you created together. You could feel his walls, his hesitation, but this time they felt far less imposing. His defenses, ever so slightly, had come down.

It was in these moments, in these small dances and quiet gestures, that you felt yourself reaching him bit by bit. Not with force or words, but with your presence, your laughter, your warmth. You grinned again as he looked at you, a genuine, rare smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, and you knew this was enough.

“Come on.” you teased gently, tugging him toward the floor. “It’s Christmas, Kento. Loosen up a little.”

His grip on your hand tightened briefly, a subtle indication that your forwardness had caught him off guard. Still, he followed, the faintest hint of pink brushing against his ears. As the two of you swayed to the music, you let your fingers glide lightly over his shoulder, relishing the solid warmth beneath your touch. 

“You know, Kento.” you began, your tone playful, “I wasn’t lying earlier. You’re on my wish list this year. Like last year and the year before that.”

Kento raised an eyebrow, but the slight flush deepened across his cheeks. “That so?”

“Mm-hmm.” you replied, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “You’ve got that whole ‘Santa-but-make-it-dashing’ thing going on. Makes a girl want to write a love letter to the North Pole.”

He cleared his throat, his warm caramel eyes darting away briefly before returning to yours. “I doubt Santa would entertain... that kind of correspondence.”

You leaned in, your voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “Good thing I’m not sending it to him, then. I’d deliver it straight to you. No middleman required.”

For the first time that night, Kento faltered. His confident posture shifted, and his eyes widened just a fraction. “You’re relentless, you know that?” he murmured, a hand coming up to adjust his tie, though it wasn’t even out of place. “Always have been.”

You laughed softly, the sound warm and teasing. “Oh, Kento, don’t tell me I’ve made you nervous. It’s just a little harmless flirting…….but well,  unless you want it to be more.”

His lips parted, but no immediate response came. That small victory sent a thrill through you, and you leaned closer, just enough that your words were for him alone. “Tell me, does this kind of thing make you uncomfortable? Or are you just not used to someone being so... direct?”

Kento’s hand tightened slightly on your waist, his composed exterior visibly cracking. “It’s not discomfort, not at all.” he admitted, his voice low but steady. “Just unexpected.”

“Unexpectedly charming?” you pressed, your eyes twinkling with amusement.

He exhaled sharply, a sound that might have been a stifled laugh. “Something like that.”

Encouraged, you let your fingertips trace the seam of his suit jacket. “You know, Kento.” you continued, a playful lilt in your voice, “if you’re ever feeling generous this season, you could always fulfill my Christmas wish.”

“And what would that be?” he asked, the words coming out more strained than he probably intended.

You leaned in, your lips barely brushing the shell of his ear. “You. Under the mistletoe.”

When you pulled back to gauge his reaction, you were rewarded with the rarest sight: Nanami Kento, speechless. His hand flexed slightly on your waist, and his gaze flicked away as he struggled to compose himself. He looks at you for a moment. 

“You’re incorrigible, really.” he finally muttered, but his voice betrayed him—soft, amused, and maybe even a little flustered. “You haven’t  changed.”

“Only with you, Kento.” you said sweetly, squeezing his shoulder before stepping back. “But don’t worry, I’ll wait for my gift. After all, good things come to those who are patient.”

As you walked away, a satisfied grin on your lips, you couldn’t help but glance back to find Nanami Kento standing exactly where you’d left him, his calloused fingers brushing absently over his tie, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and something you dared to hope was intrigue.

The night carried on, the hum of conversation and the swell of holiday music forming a cozy backdrop, but you couldn’t keep your attention off Nanami. He had retreated to the edge of the room, standing by one of the tall, arched windows. The faint reflection of twinkling lights played across his face as he stared out at the snowfall, the earlier flush still faintly visible on his well defined cheeks. You decided you weren’t quite done with him yet.

Grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing server, you wove your way back through the crowd, your dress swishing lightly with each step. When you approached him, you tilted your head playfully, holding out the glass. 

“For the most stoic man at the ball, our dear Santa.” you teased.

He glanced at you, his lips quivering in what might have been a reluctant smile, and accepted the drink. “I didn’t realize I had a title.”

“Oh, you’ve earned it, Kento.” you said with a wink, leaning against the window frame beside him. “But don’t worry—I like a challenge.”

Nanami Kento took a measured sip of the champagne, but you caught the way his jaw tensed, as though he were bracing himself for whatever you might say next. It only spurred you on to tease him even more.

“So, Kento.” you said, turning slightly to face him. “Are you enjoying the ball, or are you just here to fulfill some jujutsu society obligation?”

He hesitated, clearly weighing his words. “I suppose I’m here out of tradition. And obligations. These events aren’t really my style.”

“I could’ve guessed that, you know.” you said, grinning. “You’re not exactly the life-of-the-party type. But you know, Christmas is about more than tradition. It’s about joy. And sharing it with someone.”

Kento gave you a sidelong look. “You’re quite persistent.”

“And you’re quite stubborn.” you shot back, smiling. “But I think there’s a soft side to you, Kento. One you don’t show often enough.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh? And what makes you think that?”

“Well, for one, you haven’t walked away yet. I’m sure that you could end up doing that, knowing how much I tease you.” you said with a smirk. “And two... you keep looking at me like you don’t know whether to scold me or kiss me.”

His composure faltered again, a faint cough escaping as he set his glass down on the windowsill. “You certainly have an active imagination.”

“Oh, come on,Kento.” you said, your tone playful but insistent. “Admit it—you’re at least a little tempted. And if you’re not, then prove me wrong.”

Kento looked at you then, really looked at you, his sharp gaze softening just slightly. For a moment, you thought you might have pushed too far, but then he straightened, adjusting his tie with a deliberate slowness. 

“I don’t think I need to prove anything.”

“Ah, I see.” you said, stepping closer, emboldened by the flicker of challenge in his tone. “So, you are tempted.”

He said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes. The tension between you was palpable, the space narrowing until you could feel the faint warmth radiating from him. You bit your lip, deciding to go all in.

“Tell you what, Kento.” you said, voice low and teasing. “If you don’t kiss me under a mistletoe by the end of the night, I’ll stop. No more flirting, no more teasing. I’ll leave you alone.”

Kento tilted his head slightly, as if considering your words. “And if I do?”

Your breath hitched at the question, but you managed a grin. “Then I’ll finally have my Christmas wish.”

His lips parted softly, as though he were about to respond, but instead, he exhaled slowly, his warm gaze dipping to your lips for the briefest moment before meeting your bright teasing eyes again. 

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stalling for a while now.” you countered, a laugh bubbling up. “But that’s okay. I can wait. I always will.”

You stepped back, letting the tension linger as you gave him a playful wave and walked away. You didn’t have to look back this time—you knew he was watching. He was trying to memorize this moment, to observe it for what it was. And somehow, you had the distinct feeling that before the night was over, Nanami Kento would be fulfilling your wish.

As you moved away to get another glass of champagne, your heart fluttering with equal parts exhilaration and nervousness, you wondered if perhaps you’d gone too far. But before you could fully retreat into the crowd, you felt a hand on your wrist. It was a gentle, but firm pull enough to stop you in your tracks.

You turned around, with a surprised look on your face as you found Nanami Kento still standing there, his expression unreadable. His warm fingers lingered just a moment before he released you, his caramel gaze steady but softer than you’d ever seen it. The air between you seemed to hum with unspoken words.

“I—” He hesitated, his usual composure slipping just enough to make him seem almost vulnerable. He exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing as if surrendering to something he’d been holding back. “I need to say something. I should have, a long time ago.”

Your pulse quickened, and you nodded, stepping closer. “I’m listening.”

Kento glanced away briefly, as though gathering his thoughts, before looking back at you. His voice, when he spoke, was quiet but steady. “I’ve been aware of your... feelings. For a long time. I always knew about it. You were frank about it.”

Your cheeks flushed at the admission, but you didn’t interrupt. His words felt heavy, deliberate, as if each one had been carefully chosen. You could see the warmth in his eyes and the guilt and the desperation swirling through into one, your reflection echoing softly.

“I didn’t know how to respond, I never have.” he continued. “I thought it was... better to stay distant. With how things are….To keep things professional, I thought it was the best course of action. But… I made you wait. And that wasn’t fair.” He paused, his brow furrowing slightly, and when he looked at you again, there was something raw in his eyes. 

“What are you saying?”

“I’ve realized I’ve been lying to myself.”

Your breath caught, and you stared at him, hardly daring to believe what you were hearing. “Kento... you don’t have to—”

He ran a hand through his hair, his usual calm veneer cracking further. “I like you, I think I’ve always have.” he admitted, the words escaping like a confession he could no longer contain. “I’ve liked you for longer than I care to admit. More than I can express in words. Maybe…Maybe if I had loved you less, I’d be more able to talk about it.”

You gasped at his words, your mouth opening as wide as your eyes in surprise. “But I didn’t know how to handle it. You... you’re bold, and relentless, and you make it impossible for me to think clearly. You make it impossible for me to know what to do. Because I’m overwhelmed by you. And I…I surrender to it.”

“Kento, I just….” A surprised laugh bubbled out of you. “This is just….”

Kento gave you a small, self-deprecating smile. “You challenge me in ways I’m not used to. And while I’ve tried to ignore it, I’ve found that I don’t want to anymore. I don’t want to keep playing games, especially tonight.”

Your chest felt like it might burst, a mix of disbelief and elation washing over you. “So... does this mean I get my Christmas wish?”

Kento let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, darling.” you said, stepping closer, your voice playful but trembling with emotion. “You like me anyway.”

He sighed, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. “I suppose I do. More than I could ever understand.”

“You made me wait a long time.”

His eyes looked warmly at you. “I know. And I have….I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, for making you wait for so long.” 

Before you could overthink it, you closed the remaining distance between you, your hand resting lightly on his chest.  You smiled at him. “Good. I’ll take that as your apology.”

“Does….does this mean—”

“Kento.” you murmured, your voice soft but sure, looking at his eyes more closely. You smiled at him. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

His warm caramel gaze dropped to yours, and for the first time, you saw no hesitation in his eyes. Not one bit. He smiled back at you, his warm palm resting against the tresses at the edge of your hair, tracing it as though to memorize every bit of you.

“I think I do.” he said, his voice low and steady, and then, as if finally giving in to everything he’d been holding back, he leaned down and kissed you.

The world seemed to fade around you, the music and chatter of the ball becoming nothing more than a distant hum. His lips were warm, firm, and deliberate, and the way he held you. His one hand steady at your waist, the other lightly brushing your cheek. It made you feel like the only two people in the room.

Your heart soared, the years of unspoken feelings and quiet longing finally culminating in this perfect moment. His kiss wasn’t rushed or hesitant. Everything about it was purposeful, full of emotions he’d kept bottled up for far too long. Everything about it made you swore into the clouds, ever so happily.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting lightly against yours, you couldn’t help the soft, giddy smile that spread across your lips. His face was red as the scarlet sunrise, but he smiled even warmer than that as your gazes lock in an embrace.

“Merry Christmas, Kento.” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly with emotion.

He huffed a soft laugh, his breath warm against your skin. “Merry Christmas.” Then, with a smirk that was both rare and devastatingly charming, he added, “I suppose you got your wish after all. After all this time.”

You laughed, the sound bright and uninhibited, before teasing back, “Well, you are my Santa, you always have been.”

“Am I really?” He responded back, heartily.

“You do have a big sack too, so……” You trailed off, leaning closer with a mischievous grin. “Let me unpack it tonight, Santa?”

His face turned into an even more impressive shade of red, his composure slipping for a moment as he stared at you in disbelief. You laughed as he looked away for a moment, trying to gather himself. Your arm wrapped against his own. 

“You—” He cleared his throat, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as if to steady himself. “That’s... incredibly bold.”

You tilted your head playfully, your grin widening. “My boldness worked on you, didn’t it?”

He exhaled sharply, his lips twitching as though trying to suppress a smile. “I’m starting to see that, darling.” he muttered, his voice laced with reluctant amusement.

The nickname had made you feel even more giddy inside. “Hm, I suppose so, my love.”

“I’m sure that you’ll be more creative about it.”

“Well, you are right.” you said, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. “Stick with me forever, Kento. I have plenty more where that came from.”

Shaking his head, but unable to hide the warmth in his warm mahogany gaze, he leaned in again, ever closer this time. You could feel his voice in a low murmur against your ear. He gives you a small smile as his fingers trace the back of your neck. 

“Something tells me I’m in for quite the adventure.”

“Absolutely, my love.” you said, beaming as his lips found yours once more, sealing not just a moment but the beginning of something you’d both waited far too long for. “Buckle up.”

He snickers. “I look forward to each and every nonsense Christmas then.”

You laughed. “Expect it for all your days too.”

“Hm, that’s what I signed up for.”

[pitchsidestories]

el sueño de una niña (1) II Jenni Hermoso x Reader

part 2 I masterlist I word count: 2175

a/n: dear readers, the inspiration for this oneshot was Jenni Hermoso's speech at the Ballon d'Or ceremony, enjoy. 🖤💜

“Wait, I know that you’re a football player. Why did you come from my mamis bedroom?”

Jenni was on her way to sneak out of your appartement but when that small voice held her back. Curiously she turned the head around to look into the eyes of a little girl who the Spaniard estimated to be between five to six years old.

That must have been your daughter Mila Jenni thought to herself. It was the big confession after the great night the two of you had spent together.

Something in the reveal activated her flight mode, the forward’s plan was to leave and never look back. Her life was so chaotic she didn’t feel ready to be a part of a family.

Even though everything about yesterday touched her more than Jenni wanted to admit. Images of it flashed behind her eyes capturing passion, beauty and love. 

“Uhm.. you didn’t see me, okay?”, the raven-haired woman returned the question flustered.

“But you’re the Jenni Hermoso, right? The one who won the World cup with Spain.”, Mila looked at her big-eyed, her voice full of adoration.

“Yes, but don’t tell anyone.”, Jenni replied, pressing a finger to her lips to underline her words.

“Wow.”, the little girl whispered amazed.

“Sorry, I really need to leave now. I’ve a speech to write.”, the striker apologized.

This didn’t stop Mila to confide in the older woman. “I’d love to be a football player like you when I’m grown up.”

“You do?”, something of your daughter’s sincerity made Jenni stay despite her announcement earlier that she needed to go.

“Yes.”, the girl emphasized.

“Hm..”

“It’s a big dream of mine.”, Mila added smiling shily.

“You’ll have to work hard for it.”, the Spaniard told her seriously.

“I can do that.”, your daughter assured her.

“And people will try to keep you from it.. they will tear you down and hope you’ll be compliant.”, Jenni continued gravely, kneeing down so she could look into the girl’s eyes.

“Did they do that with you?”, Mila questioned empathetically, placing her small hand carefully to the dark-haired woman’s cheek.

“Yes. All my life. So, promise me one thing, okay?”, she confirmed.

“Okay?”

“Don’t let anyone tell you what you can and cannot be. Promise?”, Jenni pressed a kiss to your daughter’s fingers.

“I promise.”, Mila answered solemnly.

“If you excuse me now.”, the older woman gave her an apologetic look.

“Bye, Jenni. I hope I’ll see you back soon.”, the girl said in an optimistic tone that left no doubt that the football player would return to your appartement.

“We’ll see. Thank you though.”, Jenni answered gratefully.

“Thank you for what?”, your daughter frowned confused.

“You just gave me an idea for my speech.”, the football player’s face lit up with excitement as she spoke.

Jenni shuffled the pieces of papers once more while someone applied her make up for the Ballon D’Or ceremony.

The writing on her notes was almost illegible, she had scribbled down her thoughts way too quickly on her way to the venue. It didn’t matter. She knew now what she wanted to say on stage. Still, she refused to let go of her notes.

“Jenni, have you actually prepared a speech?”

Alexias face appeared behind her in the mirror, She was already in her suit, her hair pulled into a low bun.

Jenni was about to complain about the surprised tone of Alexias voice when Patri joined them: “No way! I thought you’d just start talking like you always do.“

Jenni raised one eyebrow at the reflection of her two Spanish teammates and grinned: “That was the initial plan but I had a better idea.“

“Did someone spark your inspiration?”, Marta asked innocently.

Once the make-up artist let go of her face, she turned towards them and nodded: “Yes. And I hope she’s watching.“

Her teammates exchanged unreadable glances without saying a word while Jenni walked past them, leading the way to the award ceremony.

For what felt like hours, they sat there and listened to men talk. Jennis gaze kept going back to the clock, willing the time to slow down or the speakers to talk faster so Mila had a chance to watch before her bedtime.

Finally, she was called up on stage to receive her award. There was applause but she knew a lot of the people weren’t satisfied with her nomination. She held onto her notes and it all faded into the background once she started speaking about the little girl that wanted to follow in her footsteps, the girl that deserved to have a safer environment to play football in.

Her teammates welcomed her back to her seat with standing ovations. Alexia nodded at her once with a set jaw while Aitana gave her an inquiring look: “You dedicated it to a young girl? Who’s that?”

“Someone I met this morning.“, Jenni replied truthfully as she sat down.

“She seems to have left quite an impression on you.“, Caroline remarked.

“She did. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with all this shit… but there are so many little girls out there that should have it better than we did back then.“

“I agree with that.“, Alexia chimed in.

Marta nodded in agreement: “Me too, obviously. We had to put up with a lot.“

“Let’s be honest, we still do.“, Aitana whispered.

Jenni answered with new-found determination: “Yes but until she gets older, we might have already changed some more things.“

“I bet we will.“, Salma said quietly, before they all went quiet again and focused on the next award recipient.

Much to the surprise of her national and former club teammates Jenni announced at the after party, the alcohol-free wine glass still resting in her hand untouched. “I think I’m going to leave.”

“Leave?”, Patri repeated puzzled.

“Yeah, this party is boring anyway.”, the striker shrugged. The other women secretly thought the same, they couldn’t celebrate like the men around them as they were having a national team game the next morning.

 Seeing Jenni step into your apartment while she still wore her glamorous dark suit jacket showing a large portion of her skin underneath felt almost unreal to you. It wasn’t that long ago when Mila and you watched the ballon d’or ceremony on tv and now she was back in flesh and blood. The football player was even more gorgeous here than on the screen.

Quickly Jenni revealed that the celebrations had bored her which was the moment you told her about your night.

“Mila stayed awake the whole time, she didn’t want to fall asleep until you were on the stage, Jenni.”

“She watched?”, the dark-haired woman asked happily.

“Yes, Mila loved everything about your speech.”, you nodded thrilled by the fact that your excitement was mirrored in the forward’s face.

“I’ve to thank her. She inspired me.”, she confessed.

“You inspired her as well.”, you admitted smiling.  

“Even if she’s the only one, I reached my goal.”, Jenni beamed.

“To be fair I think you inspired many more with your words.”, you remarked solemnly.

“I hope so.”, the dark-haired woman sighed.

“Trust me.”, you answered softly.

After a meaningful pause you added. “I almost thought you wouldn’t call or wanted to see me again back then you left without a word in the morning.”

“That would sound like me actually.”, the footballer cleared her throat nervously. She loved to play the game, haunting for the next great beauty to court and lay down in bed with before going on the haunt again, always being a restless player. All was fair in love and football.

“She’ll appreciate the thank you though, it’ll mean a lot to her.”, you said while you bit your lip.

“That’s why I’m here. I want to thank you both.”, Jenni looked at you sincerely.

“Shouldn’t you be at the grand afterparty sipping champagne and flirting with pretty women?”, you lifted an eyebrow curiously.

“Not many women there that aren’t my teammates. And I’m not allowed to drink, I’ve to be back with my national team tomorrow.”, the striker chuckled amused.

“I see.”

“And maybe I preferred to spend my time here.”, she acknowledged, one hand ran tensely through her long hair.

You considered her for a moment and nodded in the direction of Milas bedroom: “Sadly she’s already asleep…“

“That’s okay. I could stay if you let me.“

You knew you should have thought about it for longer but you couldn’t resist the thought of Jenni staying one more night: “Yes, you can. If you promise to say goodbye in the morning.“

“If I was planning to sneak out again, I wouldn’t have told you.“, Jenni half-joked.

You tilted your head: “Good point.“

“So?”

“You can stay the night.“, you finally confirmed.

Relief seemed to flash across Jennis face for a millisecond: “Thanks.“

“You’re welcome, Jenni.“

The next morning you were woken up by footsteps on the wooden floor. Your heart sank immediately, thinking it was Jenni breaking her promise so you refused to turn around. You didn’t want to watch her leave again. Instead you heard a tiny voice whisper in awe: “Jenni!”

“Woah, you’re already awake, little one. Good morning.“, Jenni yawned and stretched right next to you.

She was still here, still in your bed.

“I saw you! Last night!”, Mila said full of excitement.

“You did? And did you like my suit? It’s on that chair.“, Jenni smiled, pointing across the room.

You watched as Mila walked over and gently touched the fabric in awe.

“It’s beautiful.“

“Right? Next year I’ll take you and your mum with me.“, the football player said, winking at you as if to tell you that she knew you were awake.

While the smile fell from your face, Milas eyes lit up: “What? Really?”

“Yes, why not?”

You might have been desperate for her to stay another night but you weren’t delusional. Who knew where the two of you were in a year? Most likely not sharing a bed anymore.

“Don’t promise her too much.“, you warned the football player.

Jenni was unusually quiet before replied: “I… mean it.“

“You mean it?”

“I do. I want to keep seeing you and her.“, she said with determination.

Milas eyes had been darting back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. “We want to keep seeing you too!”, she yelled happily.

Completely ignoring you, Jenni turned back to your daughter and pulled her onto the bed: “Would you like to see a football game in Italy tonight?”

Mila was bursting with joy: “Yes!”

“I mean isn’t that too spontaneous? Like what about the airplane tickets?“, you interjected.

“I can take care of it all. But only if that’s okay with you.“, Jenni offered while Mila put on her best puppy eyes: “Pleeease.“

Who were you to deny your daughter such a once in a lifetime opportunity?

With a hesitant nod, you finally agreed: “Okay.“

The day has flown by, Mila and you quickly packed your bag for one night, before following your lover to get on the plane. While the striker was on the team walk, your daughter and you did your own exploring the Italian surroundings. It was like a daydream from which you didn’t want to wake up.

In the evening, you could feel from the stands Jennis glances on you who was standing on the pitch with some of her friends. Next to you Mila couldn’t hide her excitement seeing her favourite players live. It genuinely warmed your heart to witness and share that special moment with your child.

“Pretty girl from next door? She’s so your type, Jenni.”, Laia Codina wiggled her eyebrows.

“That’s why she’s here.”, the forward winked at the defender.

With a smirk on her face Alexia bumped her elbow into her teammates side. “Who would’ve thought that Jennifer found herself a family.”

“Strange things happen, Ale.”, Jenni shrugged with her shoulders.

“Yes, it’s Halloween soon.”, Vicky threw in teasingly.

“Rude.”, the older striker commented smiling.

“Vicky.”, the Barcelona captain clicked her tongue reprovingly.

The test game ended in a draw, but that didn’t stop Jenni from giving you a passionate kiss.

“That wasn’t very subtle, Jenni.”, you laughed.

“I don’t care about subtle anymore.”, she clarified grinning.

“What about the others watching?”, you asked her, cheeks flushed.

“They just love to stare at pretty girls.”, Jenni stated firmly.

“Pretty girls, hm?”, you repeated. Admittedly under her intense gaze you felt more beautiful than ever before. She didn’t hide her desire towards you and wasn’t afraid to show it in the public.

“Yes.”, she confirmed.

“Kiss me again.”, you requested, your voice slightly hoarse from cheering. Before you even could finish your sentence, her lips were on yours, making both of your hearts flutter.

Everything started with a dream of a little girl which was your daughter, in which Jenni saw her younger self, Mila undoubtedly became her inspiration for the speech. The three of you would now dream together.

Keep dreaming.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/imverits/765621490900238336?source=share

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Vexing Vacation – Part 4

Summary: When you agreed to join your brother on his vacation, sharing a room with his best friend wasn’t part of the plan. Now, that you’re constantly stuck with Lando and his relentless teasing, you’re not sure whether you want to strangle him or kiss him.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader, one-bed trope, a lot of banter and a hint of forced proximity :)

WC: 4.1K

Warnings: mentions of sex/sexual insinuation, cursing and my lack of golf knowledge

Part 1 | Part 3 | Masterlist | Part 5

Y/N groaned when she woke up, her head already throbbing with a pounding headache. 

“Good morning!” Lando said cheerfully from beside her.

“Shut up,” she muttered, pulling the comforter over her face to block him out.

Lando laughed at her. “Sounds like you had a good time last night.”

“No, I didn’t. Because you guys had to pull me away before the fun could start.”

She buried her head deeper into the pillow and sighed. “I’m comfortable,” she said, her voice muffled.

“Okay, well, I’m going down for breakfast. Don’t stay in bed too long or you’ll miss it. There’s water and aspirin on the bedside table.”

Y/N hummed in response, drifting asleep again before Lando had even left the room for breakfast. When he reached the hotel restaurant, he spotted Max already sitting at a table, scrolling through his phone as he waited. Lando slid into the seat across from him.

“Good morning,” Lando said.

“Hey, morning,” Max responded, looking up from his phone at the new voice.

They got their breakfast and talked about their plans for the day. At the lack of female presence, they decided on something they would enjoy very much, but the girls maybe a little less; golfing. Max heard there was a good course nearby, and wanted to try it out, and Lando was not about to protest.

“Where’s P?” Lando asked after a while.

“You’ve only noticed now that she’s not here?” Lando rolled his eyes. “She’s sleeping in. She had quite a bit to drink last night. Not as much as my sister, though. Speaking of her, how’s she?”

“She’s okay, I think. Definitely hungover and very tired.”

Max laughed. “Didn’t expect anything different, to be honest.”

“You were pretty touchy last night, weren’t you?” He continued.

“What?” Lando asked, surprised at the direct and unexpected question.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you when you were guiding her out of the club; you were all over her. And P told me you couldn’t keep your hands off her yesterday while you two were alone. The day before that too, apparently, she was holding your hand, you said? And the arm on her chair at dinner?”

Lando was in shock. Usually, Max didn’t notice anything that happened between him and Y/N, but this time he had seen, or heard about, whatever was going on between the two. Of course, Pietra had something to do with it, Max was too thick to realise it himself. Although he had touched her more than usual, maybe he wasn’t as subtle as he thought.

“Uhm—”

“You like her don’t you?”

Lando nearly choked on his tea at the blunt question, landing himself in a choking fit. “Uh, yeah, I suppose you could say that. Look, I don’t want—”

“It’s okay, man. I trust you, You’ve got my blessing. I think you’ll be good for each other, you’ll just have to convince her of it first,” Max said, laughing at the image forming in his head.

Lando blinked in disbelief, not really believing he got Max’s permission. It wouldn’t make a difference, but it was good to know their friendship wouldn’t be ruined. “Thanks, man,” he said, before joining in his laughter. “Convincing her though,” he breathed in sharply, “yeah, that’s going to be tough.”

– – – – –

Y/N shot up in bed when she heard the door of her room close loudly, rubbing her eyes tiredly at the abrupt end to her sleep.

“You awake?” Lando asked.

She hummed, moving herself into a more comfortable sitting position as she watched Lando enter the room. “What’s that?” she asked, hinting at the covered plate in his hands.

“I brought you some food, you missed breakfast.”

“Oh, thanks,” she mumbled, accepting the plate from him.

“You didn’t drink your water yet?”

“Hm?”

“The water? On the bedside table?” He clarified.

“Oh, I didn’t see it, I fell asleep again.”

“Don’t forget to take the aspirin. We’re going out in a bit,” he told her as he walked around the room.

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked before biting into one of the strawberries.

“Golfing,” Lando answered from the bathroom. He could hear her groan of annoyance through the wall.

“That’s what you get when you miss breakfast; the men get to decide.”

Y/N scoffed. “Very daring, calling yourself a man.”

“Excuse me?” Lando said in fake offence.

“You heard me.”

“Now, don’t forget who brought you breakfast, water and aspirin. I can’t believe I went through all that trouble, and this is the thanks I get,” Lando said, shaking his head in disappointment.

Y/N shrugged, a small, satisfied grin on her face when they made eye contact. She got up from the bed not much later. “I’m going to shower,” she announced, quickly grabbing her stuff before disappearing into the bathroom.

She took her time in the shower, giving Lando a moment to get changed into his so-called ‘golf clothes’ before she returned. Her jaw was slack in surprise when she saw him; if these were golf clothes then she needed to go golfing more often. He looked good; the tank top he was wearing showed off the lean muscles in his arms and shoulders, making him look stronger than usual, hotter. She quickly banished that thought from her mind – she couldn’t be thinking things like that, it was extremely inappropriate of her; he was her brother’s best friend.

Y/N scolded herself when she realised she’d been staring at him. She brushed a hand along her hair, as if checking there were no loose strands from her ponytail, and straightened her skirt in an attempt to distract herself. She walked towards Lando, who was busy on his phone as he leant against the armrest of the couch. He looked up at her when she stopped in front of him, eyes slowly raking over her body while she put her wallet inside her purse.

“You ready to go?” He asked, clearing his throat.

“Um…” She looked around the room, checking if she had forgotten something. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Lando got up from the couch at her answer, grabbing his bag of clubs from the closet – of course, he would have his own golf clubs, and travel with them – before opening the door. He stopped when Y/N followed after him with only her purse. “Aren’t you bringing your clubs?” He asked her.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You think I’d carry them myself? They’re already there, of course,” she said sarcastically, before clarifying, “I don’t have clubs, Lando. I never golf.” 

“Oh. Okay, then. Let’s go,” he concluded, before walking towards the elevator, where, coincidentally, Pietra and Max were already waiting. Y/N was surprised to find out her brother had taken his own clubs, too.

The group headed out in the rental car, Lando driving as he didn’t seem able to give up control over any vehicle he could drive himself, while the girls sat in the back. They were summing up all the things they’d rather be doing instead of golfing until Max snapped, telling them to leave if they wanted to do something else. The girls smiled in success, but stopped pestering him, they wanted to stay; Pietra wanted to spend some time with her boyfriend and Y/N was convinced by the opportunity to drive golf carts, plus she didn’t feel like spending the day alone.

When they arrived, the boys got everything set up, including two carts and clubs for the girls. Y/N claimed a set of keys as soon as Max showed them. “I’m driving,” she exclaimed before rushing to one of the carts and promptly placing herself in the driver’s seat. She watched with a grin as Max sighed and loaded her rented clubs into the cart. 

He walked up to where she was sitting. “P and I are gonna share a cart, so you’ll have to convince Lando to let you drive.”

Y/N pouted. “Lando again? We already spent all of yesterday together, and he’ll never let me drive,” she complained.

“Don’t mope,” Max told her off before walking to the other cart and driving off with Pietra.

Y/N sighed when Lando joined her, holding his hand out for the keys. “I’m driving,” she protested his unspoken question, “you already drove here.”

“Y/N,” Lando scolded her, but she ignored him, pushing him away. 

“It’s your time to be a passenger princess,” she told him as he walked around to the other side. He sighed when he sat down, already fearing for his life. “Be sure to hold onto something,�� Y/N said before pressing her foot down. Her words increased his fear tenfold as he grappled for something to hold onto, eventually settling for the edge of the roof.

“Now, which way do we have to go?” Y/N asked.

“Dear Lord, slow down,” Lando said, panicking at her unsafe driving style. He desperately wanted a seatbelt right now.

“Tell me where the first hole is, then I’ll slow down,” Y/N said with a grin.

“Why are you driving full speed if you don’t even know where to go?” He asked in confusion. Y/N nearly giggled at the stressed look on his face, and his unnecessarily strong grip on the cart.

“If you don’t tell me where to go I’ll just keep driving in circles until we’re out of petrol.”

“Y/N!” He yelled, when she took a rather sharp turn.

“Lando!” She yelled back, taking another turn so they were actually driving in circles.

“Okay, okay!” Lando shouted, gripping the edge of the cart for dear life. He frantically scanned the course, his eyes darting between the signs and the other golfers. “That way! Just follow that cart, I think it’s Max!”

Y/N smirked and didn’t slow down quite as quickly as he’d hoped, taking another sharp turn before easing off the gas. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Lando exhaled in relief at the slower pace but his hand kept its strong hold on the side of the cart in fear she’d speed up again when he’d least expect it.

Y/N laughed at the sound. “You need to relax a little more, Lando. I thought you liked driving fast.”

“Only when I’m the one driving,” he muttered, pointing toward another cart in the distance. “Just follow Max and Pietra, and please no more crazy turns.”

She sighed dramatically. “Fine, but only because I’m a nice person.”

Y/N continued to follow Max’s cart at a reasonable speed, though she couldn’t resist speeding up for the occasional bump, just to keep things interesting. When they caught up, she glanced over at Lando, noticing the tension in his shoulders and the way he was still tightly gripping his seat. She suppressed a smile at the comedic sight.

“I honestly didn’t expect you to be such a baby,” she teased.

“I’m not a baby, I wasn’t scared, I’m just trying to make sure we don’t flip over. There’s a difference,” Lando told her with a smirk.

“Mhm,” she hummed, clearly amused. She slowed the cart as they approached the first hole where Max was already waiting.

“You two alright?” Max called out with an obvious grin on his face. He knew exactly what kind of chaos Y/N had caused from the look on her face and Lando’s; the fact that she was behind the wheel said enough.

Lando shot him a glare. “Barely survived. Your sister’s a bad driver.”

Y/N scoffed. “Bad? I manoeuvred the cart perfectly at a high speed. If anything, I’m a great driver.”

“You’re a bad driver,” he repeated.

Y/N huffed. “I’m insulted, I will now proceed to pout. You should be glad I livened up your day a little.”

Lando looked at her incredulously before shaking his head with a grin. She had once again surprised him, and kept him on his toes, but he’d never be a passenger to Y/N again. At least, not without a seatbelt and maybe a helmet, too.

Y/N hopped out of the cart with excitement. The short drive had gotten her energy up and she was ready to hit some balls. She picked out a club with the help of Max and lined up for her first swing while he moved on to help Pietra. Lando stood back, watching her with amusement as she put the ball down. She knew she was terrible at golf, but didn’t seem to care, swinging wildly at the ball and completely missing it in the process; it was a sight to behold.

“Need help?” Lando asked, raising an eyebrow.

She huffed, shaking her head before she readjusted her stance. “No. I’ve got this.”

Her second swing wasn’t much better, and Lando couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sure you do.”

She glared at him. “I don’t need your sarcasm right now.”

“Not sarcasm,” he said, stepping closer. “Just offering my expertise.”

Y/N crossed her arms and gave him a sceptical look. “You think you’re some kind of golf expert?”

Lando shrugged casually. “Better than you, clearly.”

She was about to fire back another snappy retort but held it back. She could definitely use some help; she certainly wasn’t an expert – and if Lando offered to provide it, who was she to stop him?

“Alright, fine,” she said with a sigh, stepping back. “Show me how it’s done, then.”

Lando smirked as he stepped closer, his hand sliding down her arm to adjust her grip on the club. The subtle touch sent that familiar tingle coursing through her body, but she did her best to ignore it, focusing on his instructions instead. He positioned her arms and angled the club just right before moving behind her, his chest lightly pressing against her back, his arms covering hers as they practised a swing together. She tried to stay focused on the task at hand, but his closeness was impossible to ignore—it was all too distracting.

“You got it?” he asked her. Y/N hummed in response and he stepped away. She immediately missed his presence, his warm body, as the slight breeze hit her skin, but she refused to let it show.

“Alright, go for it,” Lando said, egging her on.

Y/N swung, this time actually hitting the ball instead of a lump of grass. It moved through the air quite smoothly, not exactly how far and where she’d hoped, but in the right direction. She squinted her eyes, trying to find her ball in the grass, a grin spreading across her face when she spotted it.

“Hey, that wasn’t so bad,” she said excitedly when she stepped away, watching as Max taught Pietra how to golf.

Lando hummed in agreement. “You just needed someone to show you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Lando leant a little closer – so close that she could feel his body warmth radiating off him. “Too late,” he whispered in a low voice, a teasing smile on his face.

Y/N shook her head at the comment, although a small smile slipped onto her face. She watched as her brother helped his girlfriend hit the ball, leant over her as they swung the club together, just like Lando had helped her mere moments ago. The image made her blush; Lando had stood just as close to her before, she had been able to feel his chest against her back and she had enjoyed it. She suddenly realised that he was still standing close—that she could still feel his warmth, and took a quick step away from him, trying to maintain the distance that Lando was so keen to close. She watched as Max and Pietra finished their turns from her new spot, before turning to Lando. “Your turn, golf expert,” she said in a mocking tone.

Lando laughed as he grabbed his golf club and placed his ball on the tee. His playful demeanour faded into focus as he adjusted his stance, a serious expression settling over his face. As much as she wanted to deny it, he looked good: the sunlight kissed his skin just right, hitting his tan in a way that made him glow. Not to mention, the top he was wearing perfectly displayed the strong muscles twisting under his skin as he hit the ball. Y/N was mesmerised as she watched him in action, blatantly staring at him while he stared after his ball. He caught her gazing when he turned back, a cheeky grin spreading on his face, causing her to blush in embarrassment.

“I guess you really are the expert,” she said while they walked back to the cart. Lando grinned at the compliment, but didn’t look up as he placed his club back in the bag, not wanting to show how much her simple sentence affected him.

At some point during the game, Y/N and Pietra had enough, annoyed at how bad they were at the sport and how boring it really was. They decided to just watch from the golf cart as the boys hit their balls, counting down the minutes until they were finished. Every time they drove to the next location Lando tried to steal the keys from Y/N, but so far he hadn’t managed to grab them. She was surprised her reflexes were quicker than those of an F1 driver but was happy about it nonetheless. She enjoyed the look of fear on Lando’s face whenever she took a sharp turn just a little too fast.

When the boys finally finished the game, they quickly returned the rental clubs, and unfortunately, the carts, too. Y/N dramatically bid farewell to her beloved golf cart before handing in the keys at the reception. Lando was very relieved he could drive himself again when they stepped into the rental car, teasingly copying Y/N’s behaviour as he greeted the car excessively, doing everything but kissing the steering wheel while she rolled her eyes at his antics.

The drive back to the hotel was short, but after the long day they’d had, the group settled for a quick dinner at the hotel restaurant before retreating to their rooms. Y/N was yawning as she walked around the room, tired from the day and last night’s bad sleep. After Lando was finished using the bathroom, she quickly changed into her pyjamas and brushed her teeth, ready to go to sleep. 

She grabbed a bottle of water on her way to the bed, opening it as she walked – not a good idea since she spilled it all over her pyjamas. She gasped at the cold water and dropped the bottle on the floor, causing an even bigger mess. “Fuck,” she muttered, hastily picking the bottle up before more water spilled and putting it on the desk nearby.

Lando glanced over as she walked back to the bathroom for a towel, his brow raised. “What happened?” 

She sighed, looking down at herself, “I just spilled water everywhere. I’m completely drenched.”

Lando smirked, sitting up to look at the situation. “I can help you with that.”

“Don’t even start.” She glared at him. “It’s not funny. I don’t have extra pyjamas.”

He shrugged, unfazed. “You can wear one of my shirts.”

She gave him a look. “Lando, you’re short.”

“How did we get to insulting me?” he said, frowning in feigned offence.

“I mean,” Y/N sighed again, softer this time, “we’re the same height. Your shirt won’t cover enough...”

He grinned. “I’m not seeing the problem here.”

She rolled her eyes. “I do, you already saw my butt once.”

“Exactly, what’s the harm?” He said teasingly before his tone turned more serious. “Look,” he sighed, walking to his suitcase, pulling out a shirt, “it’s either this or sleeping in wet pyjamas. It’s the biggest one I’ve got.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment before taking the shirt from him – she didn’t really have another choice. “Fine. Thanks,” She said before heading into the bathroom.

She changed quickly, turning around to check in the mirror how much the shirt actually covered. It was good enough. It smelled good too, like Lando, but she would never admit that. Y/N sighed and walked back to the bed. 

Lando looked up at the sound. “What now?” He asked teasingly, watching as she walked around. She looked good in his shirt, like she belonged in it. It suited her better than Lando.

“Just, my skin’s cold from the water,” she muttered, not thinking about what she said and what responses it might solicit – she blamed the wine at dinner.

Lando raised his eyebrows in surprise at the admission. “I could help with that too,” he volunteered cheekily. 

She shot him a look, clearly flustered at the blunt offer as her mouth hung slightly open in surprise. “Just go to sleep,” she told him, climbing into bed and pulling the covers over herself. Maybe if she was fast enough, he wouldn’t notice the blush creeping up her neck.

Lando lay down next to her, shifting in the bed until he was comfortable. She could hear the bedding rustling and pulled her own comforter further up till the top reached her chin. Previously, the air conditioning hadn’t bothered her much, but now that she was only wearing Lando’s flimsy T-shirt, the cool air suddenly felt much colder.

It didn’t seem to bother Lando as much; he wasn’t tossing or turning like she was. She turned around to see him lying on his side, his back towards her. His bare arm over the duvet made it seem as if the air conditioner wasn’t making him uncomfortably cold, but of course, he was still properly covered up in his pyjamas.

She lay still in the bed for what felt like an hour, unable to fall asleep with the cold air brushing past her, effortlessly penetrating the thin duvet that covered her. She sighed, finally giving in to the intrusive thought that had been racing through her mind for at least half an hour.

“Lando?” She whispered.

No response.

“Are you awake?” 

Silence.

She pondered if she should try again. Maybe he was asleep already, she didn’t want to wake him up and disturb his sleep. But then again, she really was desperate – she had been trying to warm herself up for God knows how long, and it wasn’t working. She sighed again.

“Lando?” She tried once more, her voice just barely above a whisper.

“What?” He responds groggily.

“I just wanted to,” she paused, doubting whether it was worth it. “I’m sorry, never mind.”

“No, tell me.”

She bit her lip. How should she approach this? After a moment of hesitation, Y/N asks, “Are you cold?”

Lando turned to face her, even though he could barely make out her face in the dark. What kind of question was that? He was about to fall asleep – did she have to wake him up for this?

“No, I’m fine.”

“Oh. I’m cold.”

“Okay,” he responded confusedly, “What am I supposed to do with that information?”

Y/N hesitated again. She thought her hint was pretty clear, but Lando didn’t get it, or he wanted to hear her say it, she wasn’t sure.

“I don’t know. You’re always offering to warm me up,” she trailed off.

Lando suddenly felt much more awake. Was she asking him to hold her? To keep her warm? He smiled smugly. “Finally taking me up on the offer, hm?”

At the lack of response, he continued. “You want me to hold you?” He asked softly, his voice sincere instead of teasing.

She tensed up at his directness, watching as Lando moved around on the bed to make himself comfortable before stretching his arm out as an invitation. “Come here, then,” he muttered.

Y/N slowly shuffled closer until her body was touching Lando’s, one arm tucked between them, the other tugging the duvet higher before settling on his chest as her head rested on his shoulder. Lando wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer into his warmth. She stiffened at his tight grip.

“You could’ve just asked, you know,” he muttered against her hair. 

She could feel his thumb rubbing circles on her waist and her body slowly relaxed against him at the feeling. “You’re so annoying,” she whispered, already feeling herself becoming drowsy.

“Mhm,” Lando hummed, smiling into her hair. “But warm, right?”

“Shut up.”

– – – – –

Part 5

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[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 5

Previous Chapter: Part 4 | Next Chapter: Part 6

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out, Smut

🚫🔞THIS IS AN ADULT BLOG CONTAINING EXPLICIT CONTENT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, A18+ ONLY.🔞🚫

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes, lemon, hand job, vague references to Shoto being abused by family, reader experiences anxiety

Link to My Master List

Your alarm wakes you from a restless sleep. You blearily slap at your phone until it stops beeping and you sit up in bed.

Deep in your bones, you feel upset.

But why? Your fuzzy brain can’t seem to put all the pieces together from the night before. Then in a flash you remember – the text. The sweatshirt. YaMomo.

Oh, right. You had drifted off around 4 am after hours of agonizing and pacing around your tiny dorm room.

Maybe it was all just a weird dream? You reach out your hand and grope along your side table until you find it – Shoto’s phone. You scoop it into your arms and tap it to reveal his bland blue-sky screensaver. There are two texts on the screen – one from you, and one from Momo Yayarozo.

Momo: “Hey Shoto, you left your sweatshirt in my dorm room yesterday evening. Come pick it up tomorrow? Good night.”

Okay so this is really happening. For what feels like the billionth time, you review the facts in your head.

Fact #1: Shoto and Momo are friends. They have always been fairly close and supportive of each other.

Fact #2: Shoto left some clothing in Momo’s room. And it’s a sweatshirt – not a super strange piece of clothing to leave in a friend’s room, right? But regardless, the text indicates that Shoto has physically been in YaMomo’s room.

Fact #3: Momo is hot. That feels relevant to list out here. But you don’t know if Shoto personally finds Momo hot, which is an important detail in this investigation.

It’s probably nothing…but you can’t help the way that a nervous knot forms in your stomach as you re-read the text message for the umpteenth time. Momo and Shoto have always been…close? But how close?

An image forms in your mind of Momo, her beautiful curvy figure leaning over Shoto during a seemingly innocent study session….You shake your head. No! These are your friends! You can’t assume the worst of them. Also, didn’t you seduce Shoto during a “study session” just last night? It seems a bit hypocritical to look down on someone else for doing the same.

You resolve to confront Shoto about this in the morning, to ask him for an explanation as to why Momo is currently in possession of a Todoroki sweatshirt. As you get ready – putting on your uniform, doing a quick skincare regimen, and brushing your hair - your mind swirls with questions and more than a little doubt.

You open your closet and reach for a box of protein bars that you’ve stashed at the bottom, breaking open the box and grabbing a chocolate chip bar for your breakfast.  You toss the snack into your bag alongside Shoto’s phone. Your emotions are all twisted up in the worst way. You’re simultaneously anxious and angry. But what exactly you’re angry about, you can’t put your finger on – are you angry about the situation, about Shoto’s potential two timing? Or are you angry at yourself for agonizing over the whole thing? You’re not completely sure, but you know for a fact that your lack of sleep isn’t doing anything to help.

Scowling, you march out of your dorm room and through the common area, ignoring the various “good mornings” of your friends as you go.

“Damn what crawled up Y/N’s ass and died this morning?” you hear Sero say loudly to Mina and Ochaco as you trudge down the stairs and out onto the quad. You’re too sleep deprived and pissy to care.

As you walk, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You fish it out and look at the screen where a barrage of texts alerts take up residence on your bright lock screen. It’s your group chat with Toru and Mina, appropriately labeled “Girlie Squad.”

Toru: Y/N! What’s the deal!?

Mina: Is everything okay?

Toru: So totally rude of you to ignore us!

Mina: You look like death.

You ignore them; you don’t have the wherewithal to make up an excuse for your sour mood. You make a mental note to respond before class so they don’t suspect that anything too crazy is going on with you. Your phone buzzes again, and you’re about to text the group to back off when you notice that – oh! It’s Honenuki this time.

You open the message and see that he’s linked you to a new song. You click through and it brings you to “This Must Be the Place” by the Talking Heads. You type out a quick text.

Y/N: You moved on to the 80s?                    

Honenuki: Ha. Yeah, 80s New Wave is the vibe this week. You like the Talking Heads?

Y/N: Yeah I’m a fan. “And She Was” is a favorite of mine.

Honenuki: A woman of taste! How’s you’re week going Y/N?

Y/N: Eh kinda crappy. Classes have been crazy, and I’m in a bad mood. You?

Honenuki: *typing*

Honenuki: Yeah the hero course has been tough lately. Maybe this will help.

He sends you another song, this time its “I’m Walking On Sunshine” by Katrina and the Waves.

Honenuki: A serotonin boost. Don’t let a tough week take away your sunshine, ‘kay? Hope the day gets better!

Y/N: Thanks dude, hope you have a good one too.

You smile down at your phone. Huh, Honenuki’s actually kind of cool. You’ve got a sneaking suspicion that Class B isn’t as bad as Monoma’s immature behavior has lead you to believe. As it turns out, they’re all sort of normal. The anxiety is still bubbling around in the pit of your stomach, but having so many friends be concerned about you lessens it a tiny bit. Mina, Toru, Honenuki. It’s nice to have people looking out for you. You hope that after the conversation you’re about to have that Shoto can be a member of that list.

You have a feeling you know where Shoto is this morning, and you’re determined to confront him there.

You walk across campus in the early morning sun, dew sticking to your shoes as you plod across the damp, freshly mowed grass. You come to one of the training gymnasiums and let yourself inside. The ground floor is comprised of a gym entirely dedicated to the peers in your year. It has a ton of exercise equipment and training gear, and is open most hours of the day.

You push open the big double doors to the gym and find Todoroki in the far corner. It’s extremely early and it looks like Shoto is the only guy from your year who chose to get some reps in this morning.

He’s wearing athletic gear – basketball shorts and a tight fitting tank top – and he’s covered in sweat. He shines in the lowlight of the gym, skin glowing as he bicep curls a massive free weight in each arm. He looks like a Greek god, his physique is glorious and his muscles flex with practice skill. If you weren’t so upset, you’d worship at his feet.

He hears the door open and looks up with a start, uncurling his arms in a way that shows off his workout pump. Fuck his body should come with a warning label like: Caution: Extremely hot, do not approach unless you’re prepared to drop your panties.

“Y/N?” He says with wide-eyed surprise. He moves to put down the weights and reaches for a small white towel. He wipes the sweat off of his gorgeous brow and looks at you, confusion in his eyes. You don’t typically lift in the mornings, and you’re already in your school uniform.

You approach him briskly, your steps precise and sharp as you maneuver around various machines and pieces of workout equipment. Your steps echo in the expansive space.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, tilting his head to the side like a dog. He’s so cute you almost forget that you’re mad at him. Wordlessly, you reach into your bag and pull out his cell phone.

“Oh, my phone.” He says blankly. “That’s right, I left it in your room, didn’t I?” He reaches out and accepts the cellular device from you. “Mr. Aizawa caught me on the staircase, so I couldn’t come back to get it. I got a detention, but I don’t think it will be too bad. Thank you for bringing this back to me.” He slides the phone into his short’s pocket without a second glance.

“Did you come to workout with me?” You see there’s a hint of eagerness in his face. He slowly turns around and looks to a pile of free weights in the corner. “What weight would you like to start with? I can go get some for you.”

Before he can turn to walk away, you reach out and grab his shoulder. You feel the definition in his muscles and it makes your knees weak for a moment. Goddamn, girl. Get yourself together here. Cut to the chase.

“Why is YaMomo texting you?” You ask, trying to keep your voice level. “She said you left your sweatshirt in her room.”

Shoto doesn’t seem phased by this. He calmly removes his phone from his pocket and opens up his messages.

“Oh, she did text me. Thanks Y/N.” He types something back to Momo and hits send before pocketing the phone once more. You stand there in disbelief as he acts like nothing odd has happened.

“You’re in your uniform. Do you want to go and change? There’s still plenty of time before homeroom if you want to get a few reps in. I can spot you if you want to do some deadlifts.” He says helpfully, using the towel again to wipe off his perfectly formed shoulders. “I never see you workout in the mornings, did you come just to see me?” He smiles mischievously, but you can tell that he’s genuinely thrilled that you’ve joined him.

“Shoto.” You say, ignoring his offer. “Why did you leave your sweatshirt in Momo’s room?”

“Hmm.” His expression crinkles a bit as he thinks back. “I guess I must have taken it off while we were studying. Her room is pretty stuffy. She has way too much furniture crammed into her dorm. I told her she should get a smaller bed.”

“So when you were with her…you were just ‘studying’?” You prompt, annoyed that he doesn’t seem to grasp the gravity of the situation here. Is he trying to pull one over on you?

“Yes. We did a short review of the quadratic equations we’ve been working on in class this month. YaMomo put together a review session for Kaminari, Jiro and I. Well mostly for Kaminari, but I still found the material helpful.” He stretches, hands behind his head. “Would you like to join our next math review? Momo makes quite a good teacher. She’s a great friend for organizing so many study groups.”

You look at him in disbelief, your jaw hanging open. Oh my god. OH. MY. GOD. Did you stay up half the night blowing A TEXT completely out of proportion!? Holy crap did you just spend hours worrying and agonizing and imagining fake scenarios over absolutely NOTHING!? You’re enraged with yourself. How could you let one tiny text absolutely destroy you like that? You’re supposed to be a level-headed hero! And right now you’re acting like some kind of lovesick middle schooler. Grow the fuck up Y/N! This is not how a normal person acts!

You’re absolutely spiraling inside, ashamed of the way you’ve been absolutely tearing yourself apart worrying that Shoto had two timed you with Momo. How silly. How ridiculous. Shoto and Momo are both you’re friends and somehow your horny Neanderthal brain made them both into enemies at the drop of a hat. You feel like an awful person for thinking of Shoto and Momo in such a horrible light.

“What’s wrong?” Shoto says slowly, bringing you back to reality. Your head is absolutely spinning. You’re exhausted and shaky, anxiety still coursing through your veins. Shoto shuffles forward to get a closer look at you, concerned. He reaches out to put a hand on your waist. “Are you not feeling well?” His voice is tinged with concern and he’s looking at you with such warm eyes it makes you want to die.

“I’m feeling fine.” You snap, and Shoto instantly flinches away at your sharp tone. He recoils almost like a child that’s been admonished. His exposed fear at your harsh words makes you feel even sicker to your stomach. It makes you wonder again at how he’s treated at home. You have so many emotions flowing through you at once that you aren’t sure how to respond. Embarrassed, exhausted and unsure of yourself, you turn and walk away.

“Y/N – wait! What’s wrong?” He calls after you as you quickly weave around the gym equipment.

“I’m fine.” You say again in a clipped tone, not having the strength to look back at him.

You leave Shoto confused and alone in the large space.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You stomp your way to the classroom building. Your stomach is riling and you have too many emotions to count.

You text Mina and Toru in your group chat. You send them a vague excuse about waking up on the wrong side of the bed or some shit. Mina responds that she didn’t sleep well either and Toru sends a heart emoji. You assume all is forgiven.

Much to your class’s surprise, Recovery Girl is standing in Mr. Aizawa’s usual place when you all arrive.

“Does this mean what I think it means?” Toru whispers as she takes her seat. You ignore her, still stewing. You can’t make sense of your feelings right now…why are you so damn angry? You’re certain that Shoto is telling the truth – it was just a study session in Momo’s room. You could easily ask Kaminari or Jiro to corroborate his story.

It’s not the study session that’s making you angry though…it’s the way you stayed up all night obsessing about Momo and Shoto’s friendship. The potential hookup. What it would mean if Shoto was seeing other people, despite your discussion about keeping the intimacy monogamous.

You’re embarrassed and ashamed. And now you’re even more abashed of the way you spoke to Shoto.

“Hello class. Aizawa had to take the morning off to attend to some personal matters, so we’re going to dive into our first Sex Ed lesson today ahead of your English class.”

The class groans.

“Don’t worry everyone, this one is quick. It’s just a stepping stone to our larger conversations.” She says kindly, peering up at them through her thick glasses. “Today we’re just going to chat about interpersonal relationships, specifically about how boundaries and strong communication can lead to stronger relationships. This is going to play directly into your friendships, into your hero work, and, eventually, into intimate relationships as well.”

“Who knows what a boundary is?” She looks around expectantly, but no one raises their hand. Everyone is too nervous to engage. She sighs. “Alright, well to start: when we set a boundary, we establish clear limits or guidelines about how we want to be treated. We may define what behaviors are acceptable to us or not. Can anyone think of a good example of what a boundary may be?”

Uraraka raises her hand. “Could a boundary be asking someone not to call you a certain name? Like if Midoriya told Bakugo that being called ‘Deku’ was crossing a boundary for him, it would be wrong of Bakugo to continue using the name, right?”

“Keep my name out of your mouth, pink cheeks!”

“Sounds like Bakugo is crossing the name calling boundary already!” Mina calls out mockingly, and Katsuki looks at her with eyes full of fire and brimstone.

“Settle down! Yes, Uraraka. That’s a good example of a boundary. Boundaries can also be physical or emotional. I’ll give some applicable examples: during training you may feel the need to tell your sparring partner that you aren’t comfortable with your face or chest being touched. In a friendship, you might set a boundary with that person requesting that they not share private personal information about you with other friends. In a dating relationship, you may set boundaries surrounding physical intimacy. The boundaries you set depend on your feelings and needs, as well as the relationship. The most important part of boundary setting is clear communication. Be direct about your feelings and need for a boundary, and don’t be afraid to verbally reiterate to reinforce the boundary. Any questions?”

You see Shoto’s hand lift towards the ceiling. You look over at him and your stomach rolls.

“Yes, Shoto?”

“Say a friend is mad at you, and you’re not sure why. Can I set a boundary in the future requesting that they be direct with me and communicate their feelings as clearly as possible?” He looks straight ahead, careful not to meet your eyes.

Recovery Girl’s mouth quirks a bit. “That is…an oddly specific question.”

She thinks about it for a moment then smiles at Shoto. “But yes, setting clear boundaries surrounding your communication needs is perfectly reasonable. A good step would be to meet this friend in a neutral area and to request that they have an open and honest conversation with you about how they are feeling and why. Tell them that in the future, you would like to have an open line of communication with them and that it upsets you when you don’t understand their feelings. Be sure to underscore that you want to understand them better, and you care about them. Of course, it is important to note that sometimes your boundaries will not be considered or respected. Your friend may not be willing to sit down with you and have a conversation. All relationships are complex and everyone has their own needs that they want met. The best we can do is be respectful of one another and try to approach difficult interpersonal situations with as much empathy and grace as possible.”

Shoto considers this, and nods with understanding.

“Does anyone else have a question about boundaries?”

Mineta raises his hand but begins speaking without being called on. “I think we all know that my boundaries are to see as much of the girls’ boobs and butts as I can. If the ladies of the class could all respect my boundary by having their assets on display as much as possible, it would be much appreciated.”

The lesson ends there.

Mineta is sent to the Principle’s office and Recovery Girl gives them a long lecture about respect and body autonomy. Present Mic comes in halfway through to start his English class. One look at Recovery Girl’s angry face is enough to send him packing, and he doesn’t pluck up the courage to come back and begin his class until 15 minutes have elapsed.

You think about Shoto’s question and feel a stab of shame. Shoto isn’t the best at understanding people, and he comes from a volatile home life where it sounds like his father’s anger is often weaponized. Of course he’s hurt and confused at your seemingly mysterious anger towards him. You wonder if he’s full of anxiety as well. You really shouldn’t have just left him in the dust this morning.

You glance over at Shoto, but he’s still staring straight ahead. His eyes are focused on Present Mic and the chalkboard, but they look a little glazed over. He’s not taking notes. He’s clearly deep in thought about something. You wonder if he’s thinking about you.

Crap, you really screwed this one up.

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The rest of the day goes by pretty fast. There is the usual blur of classes, training, sparring and lunch. Mr. Aizawa reappears for combat training later in the day. He does not share an explanation as to where he has been. Instead, he doubles down on training and makes everyone work twice as hard as usual.

Shoji lays you out on your ass during said combat training and you’re absolutely sure your legs are going to bloom with bruises later on. He apologizes profusely but you shake it off and tell him it was a great throw. The way you had flown through the air must truly have been a sight to behold, as other students are taking a break from their work to come and check that you are okay. Shoji, still incredibly embarrassed, offers to take you to Recovery Girl for a quick once-over.

You catch Shoto’s gaze watching with concern from across the room where he’s sparring with Tokoyami. The momentary lapse in his attention allows for Dark Shadow to hit him square in the chest. He falls back on his own ass and blinks up at Tokoyami with wide-eyed shock.

“You’ve been woefully distracted lately, Todoroki.” You overhear Tokoyami say to Shoto as he pulls the fallen hero back to his feet. “Is everything okay?”

You feel a mixture of shame and embarrassment pool in your stomach as you realize that you’ve been ruining Shoto’s focus. An anxious, terrible thought creeps into your brain…maybe Shoto is better off without you tangled up in his life. You’re a distraction from his hero training, and he from yours. Plus, you’ve most definitely hurt him with the way you jumped to conclusions and then left him to sit with your angry vibes. Maybe for Shoto’s sake…maybe you need to break this off sooner rather than later? You shake your head in an effort to clear the thought from your mind.

“Y/N…are you sure you don’t want to go to Recovery Girl? You’re definitely going to have some nasty bruises from the way you hit the ground.” Shoji tries one more time. You wave him off, starting to get annoyed at the way everyone is dotting on you. Your nerves are absolutely fried.

“No, no. It was my fault for not breaking my own fall. I need to be more careful. Let’s go one more time – but give me a second or two to practice my counter move so we can see if it would be effective against your dupli-arms.” Shoji nods and squares up to you, giving you a moment to collect yourself and get into a position with more leverage. You train together for a few more rounds of sparring before Mr. Aizawa comes around and adjusts your posture to better protect your body from damage. You’re annoyed at the correction, but grateful for the advice.

After combat training, you shower and roll back to the classroom for your final lesson of the day – math. Ugh. You settle back into your desk, taking out your notebook and pencils and trying to convince your brain to cooperate for one last hour.

During the class, Mina passes you a hot pink post-it note that has two quick sentences scribbled out in her neat script: “Stage Two: Rendezvous in the Library at 8pm. Be sure you aren’t followed.”

You roll your eyes at her and tuck the note into your book bag. Mina’s flare for the dramatic could be the thing that blows this whole party operation; you need to keep her in check. You pull out your planner and scribble a quick reminder to meet up with Mina, Toru and Nieto in the evening.

You’re tired and angsty and anxious – to be perfectly honest, you’re not in the mood for a dose of party planning and strategy tonight. In fact, you’d rather take a second, longer shower and spend the evening brooding in your room. You need to figure out how you’ll make things right with Shoto. And you need to determine if hooking up is posing for too much of a distraction to you both. You return to your quadratic equations, morale low and enthusiasm for math crumbling.

The day ends unceremoniously. You pack up your bag, stuffing your notebooks and pens into the small book bag as best you can. Your math textbook peaks out at the top and you can’t zip it all the way. You want to throw it at the wall, you’re so frustrated. What a shitty day it’s been.

Your phone buzzes as you walk through the door. You open it up to see a text from Shoto.

Shoto: Y/N. I don’t understand why you’re upset with me. Will you walk with me back to the dorms so we can discuss your feelings?

Ugh. You totally knew this was coming. You turn and see Shoto packing up his own bag back in the classroom. There are a few other stragglers from Class A – you watch as he attempts to hang back. He looks up at you and finally catches your eye. He looks sad, his expressive eyes shining with more than a little hurt. You nod at him before turning back down to your phone.

Y/N: Of course, I’ll wait for you outside of the classroom.

You loiter outside the classroom door for a moment, nodding at your classmates as they pass through the threshold and make their way back to the dorm building. Shoto is the last to exit; his fine brown leather backpack slung over one shoulder. The bright afternoon sunlight shines through the hallway windows and dances upon his fair face. It highlights the bright scar that encircles his left eye, giving it an almost fiery glow. He’s so gorgeous he could be a model.

“I saw you got your ass kicked by Tokoyami today.” You try to joke, but the comment just comes out lame. The two of you start making your way towards the exit, the sunlight streaming across your bare arms and wrapping you in a glow of warmth. The feeling is oddly comforting. You take a few steadying breaths as you prepare yourself for a tough conversation.

“Yes. I was distracted. I saw Shoji throw you to the ground and I was worried that you were hurt.” Shoto says, straightforward as ever. He fixes his gaze on the hallway ahead, not daring to look over at you.

A flicker of anger and madness licks at your insides. You try taking a deep breath to keep your emotions at bay, but you almost can’t help yourself when you snap out: “You can’t worry about me like that. I can hold my own in battle. I got into UA on my own merits, after all.” A beat. “You need to trust that I can handle myself.”

You’re on edge and upset at yourself, and once again today you’re taking it out on poor Shoto. “I’m not some damsel in distress. I’m going to be a hero.” You say with feeling, adjusting your backpack so the straps don’t dig into your shoulders as much. Damn, you’ve got too many books crammed into this thing.

Shoto is silent for a moment. He turns to stare out one of the large sunlit windows, gathering his thoughts. You give him some time. He takes a deep breath before he turns back towards you, his eyes bright.

“You’re right. I’m sorry Y/N. Is that why you’re mad at me – do you feel that I’ve been underestimating your abilities? Because I assure you its quite the opposite. I hold you in such a high regard, you are nothing but impressive to me.” He turns so he can focus his full attention on you, his mismatched eyes fit to burn a hole through your heart. The kind words roll off of his tongue sweet like honey, and you believe him. He thinks so highly of you. You’ve always known this. And yet, you needed him to repeat it. You need to be reminded, or else the anxious thoughts will have you in a chokehold.

“I truly think you are amazing.” At his words, the prickly anxious energy surrounding your heart and mind dissipates a bit.

“Shoto…I’m not mad at you. I’m not even sure how to explain why I was so dismissive of you this morning.” You say, trying your best to pin down a few of the swirling thoughts in your mind.

“Can you try?” He asks softly. “Recovery Girl said that I should be direct and ask questions. I would like to have an open line of communication with you, because I care about you and it has been hurting me all day that I can’t understand the way you’re feeling. Are you willing to discuss this?”

“Of course Shoto.” You say, trying to come up with the right words to describe your feelings. Your whole body aches from your sparring session with Shoji, and you’re so tired you feel like you could shut your eyes and fall asleep where you stand. Talking about feelings is the absolute last thing you want to do right now, but Shoto deserves an explanation and an apology. You try to adjust your backpack straps again, but it does nothing to alleviate the stiffness in your back.

“Here, Y/N. I know you’re a strong hero and that you can hold your own, but please let me help you with your backpack. It looks uncomfortable.” Shoto reaches out and slips the backpack strap off your shoulders. You feel instant relief – you lift your arms high over your head and feel your shoulders crack as you stretch out the muscles.

“Thank you. I’m not feeling my best.” You continue to run through some basic stretches and roll out your muscles as you explain how shocked you were to see the text from Momo come through the night before. “I wasn’t snooping on your phone, I promise. I would never violate your privacy like that. But I flipped it over and saw the message. I misinterpreted Momo’s text…I thought that when she said you’d left your sweatshirt in her room…well I thought it implied that the two of you had hooked up.”

Shoto’s eyes grow round with surprise, his eyebrows shoot up into his neat two toned hair. “You thought that Momo and I…?”

“Yeah. My imagination and my anxiety went into overdrive and I was up all night wrecked with worry.”

“But Y/N, I told you that I only want to be intimate with you. What reason would I have to lie to you?”

“Anxiety is a brutal thing. I spiraled out of control and assumed the worst. And then when you had a perfectly reasonable explanation for why your sweatshirt was in her room…I was ashamed at how upset and needy I let myself get over the whole thing.” You hang your head in shame, unable to look him straight in the face. “I was up most of the night anxious about the situation and I let it consume me. I was mad at myself, and I took it out on you. I’m so sorry Shoto, that was wrong of me.” Your eyes focus on the floor beneath you.

“Y/N.” You feel Shoto’s hand reach out to take your own. It’s his cool hand – it feels refreshing to have your fingers wrapped around each other in the sunny glare of the wide UA windows. “It’s alright. I’m not upset with you. That makes a lot of sense, and now I understand why you feel the way you do. But I hope you believe me when I say I only want to be intimate that way with you.” He rubs his thumb across your hand lightly, the gentle touch sending goose bumps up your arms. “I like Momo as a friend – but that’s all. I promise.” He squeezes your hand lightly, a physical manifestation of his assurance.

You look up into Shoto’s face and his gaze is open, warm. He repeats: “I’m not upset with you.”

“But you should be!” You burst out, nerves still buzzing. “I was so cold to you this morning, and I clearly hurt your feelings.” You pause, your emotions welling up and bubbling too close to the surface for comfort. “And…and I’m too much of a distraction to you. Ever since we started hooking up, you’ve been less engaged in class and in training. I just can’t stomach the thought of holding your hero training back because you’re too focused on me.”

This is clearly not what Shoto was expecting you to say, because his mouth hangs open in surprise. He stands in the hallway, flabbergasted.

The hallway is silent, save for simple notes of birdsong wafting through a nearby open window.

Shoto looks at you now, narrowing his eyes. “Hey, Y/N…I am going to ask you a question and I don’t want you to think I’m being demeaning here. But…when was the last time you had a full night’s sleep? You look exhausted.”

You blink at him, confused for a moment. But then you realize its true – you’re utterly drained and you haven’t gotten a good nights’ sleep all week. In between late night study sessions and your hookups with Shoto, you’ve really been burning the midnight oil. And then, of course, there’s the way you’d kept yourself up the night before agonizing over the text from Momo…

“It’s been a while.” You say slowly.

“I think that maybe you need to relax a bit. I’m not mad at you. You’re not distracting me. In fact, you’ve done nothing but enhance my life since we’ve started seeing each other more…intimately. You let me just be myself around you. I can’t convey to you how much that’s helped me lately. I need you to believe that.”

You nod. He’s being far too kind to you.

Shoto uses his free hand to check his phone for the time. You see his boring blue sky phone background light up briefly before he re-pockets the device.

“It’s 4:00 right now. Do you have time to rest before dinner?” He asks gently, squeezing your hand again.

“Yes. I don’t have anything planned until 8 o’clock tonight.” You say, thinking back to Mina’s note.

“Good. Then I’m escorting to your room and enforcing a mandatory nap.” He uncouples your hands and marches forward towards the dorms. You follow behind; head foggy with a mixture of exhaustion and relief. Shoto isn’t mad at you.

Within minutes, you’re back in the Class A dorms. Most of your classmates are scattered across the campus – fitting in some last minute training in the gym or working through homework in the library. You feel guilty – you should be in one of those places, too. You need to work towards your goal of becoming stronger, becoming a hero. You voice these concerns to Shoto as he leads you through the empty hallway and towards your dorm room.

“Heroes need rest, too.” He says simply, dismissing your worries with a wave of his hand. “How can you become stronger if your exhausted?” He has a point there.

You turn your key in the lock and push your door open. The two of you enter the tiny dorm and you lock the door behind you. Shoto places the two backpacks on the floor near your desk and turns to you expectantly.

“Where do you keep your comfortable clothes?”

“Um, in the second drawer on the right.” You direct.

He moves to your dresser and opens the aforementioned drawer, drawing out a pair of cream-colored sweatpants and a grey tank top. You don’t have the heart to tell him that the pieces are not a matching set. He tosses the outfit in your direction and tells you to change. Meanwhile, he grabs the water bottle off of your nightstand and walks to your tiny bathroom to fill it for you. You hastily change in his absence and throw your worn uniform in your hamper for washing.

Shoto returns with a full water bottle and a damp cloth. He sets the bottle back on your nightstand and tugs you to your bed. You pull down the covers and climb up into the fluffy monstrosity, tucking your cold feet under the covers.

Shoto climbs up with you and sits next to you. He brings the cloth to your face – it’s damp with warm water. He lightly dabs at your cheeks, eyebrows and forehead, refreshing your skin in an insanely sweet gesture. “My mom used to do this for me before I went to bed.” He mumbles under his breath. “It always helped me sleep better.”

When he’s done, he presses a kiss to your forehead. You flush at the tenderness of his actions, overwhelmed with gratitude but feeling unworthy of his gentle attention.

“Drink some water.” He says before sliding off the bed and moving to ring out the cloth in the bathroom sink. You oblige, grabbing your water bottle and taking several large gulps of the cool liquid.

You feel ten times more relaxed than you had in class today. The loose clothes feel comforting on your aching body, and your face feels fresh and clean from Shoto’s attention. You lay your head down on your soft pillow and exhale deeply.

Shoto exits the bathroom, shaking the excess water from his hands.

“I’m sorry to be such a burden to you, Shoto.”

Shoto looks at you with a piercing gaze, almost angry.

“Y/N. I care about you – it is not a burden to take care of you when you need it. All I ask is that you are more open with your feelings next time. Don’t bottle things up and keep me in the dark.” He walks over to his book bag and reaches inside to grab one of your English class books – The Great Gatsby.

“Alright…I can be more open with you for sure. I’m sorry I was so harsh and mysterious this morning, I was processing too much and I got myself all worked up thinking that you and Momo had…well, you know.”

“Momo and I are good friends. You and I are also good friends but we have a more intimate relationship. There is nothing to be jealous about. As I said - I don’t care for Momo in the same way that I care for you.” He states simply, climbing back up beside you with his book in hand. “Here, turn onto your side and I can use my quirk as a heating pad on your back like last time.”

“You sure? I don’t need you to go to all this trouble…” You trail off as you feel his calloused hand works its way under your tank top. He spreads his fingertips wide as he cradles your lower back in his powerful hand. You feel him slowly start to modulate his temperature and the heat feels delightful against your aching muscles.

“Let me do nice things for you. I want you to relax. Now close your eyes and take a nap – I’ll wake you up before dinner.” He settles in next to you and you turn onto your side to give him better access to your back. He adjusts his position and props himself up against a few of your plushies. He flips his book open with his free hand and starts to read, brow furrowed in concentration.

You drift off, drawing comfort from the heat of Shoto’s left hand. You feel your muscles relaxing into his warm touch, the pains of the day melting like butter on a hot plate. You stretch out your legs into a more comfortable position and bury your face into your pillow.

“Thanks Shoto.” You sigh, letting your heavy eyelids drop. You feel so comfortable and safe; it’s not hard to let yourself fall into a soft, dreamless sleep.

True to his word, Shoto wakes you up two and a half hours later with a gentle shake of your shoulder. You blink up at him, bleary eyed. He smiles down at you, eyes soft as ever. It’s funny that you’ve never really noticed this – his face can be so blank and stoic, but all of the emotion shines through his pretty mismatched eyes.

“Did you have a good nap?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your brow before getting to his feet.

“Yeah…I feel like a totally new person.” You say. And its true – you feel refreshed and 90% better than you had earlier this afternoon. Your training aches and pains are still present, but have subsided a bit under Shoto’s gentle heat. Shoto hands you your water bottle and encourages you to take a few more gulps before getting out of bed. You indulge him, making a show of draining the bottle before you slide out from under the covers. You stand and wrap your arms around him, resting your head in the crook of his shoulder. “Thank you Shoto.”

Shoto returns the hug, taking care to run his hand up and down your back in a comforting gesture. “We take care of each other.” He says simply.

“How’s the book?” You ask as he breaks the hug and walks to his backpack, tucking his copy of The Great Gatsby amongst his notebooks.

“I finished it.” He says, scooping the bag up and onto his shoulders. “I don’t want to spoil the ending for you, but I’ll say this – it’s not a happy book.”

“Oh. Well I wasn’t really looking forward to it anyway. I much prefer sci-fi to the classics.” This seems to surprise Shoto, his eyebrows quirk up into his bangs in a gesture that’s rapidly becoming familiar.

“Sci-fi? Wow, I learn new things about you every day.” His tone is filled with surprise. “You’ll have to lend me one of your favorites sometime.” He checks the time on his phone, his factory default background glowing in the lowlight. “I should get going so I can drop my bag off in my room before dinner.”

“Hold on a sec – can I see your phone?” You hold out your hand, palm open. He looks at you for a moment, curious.

“Is this something to do with YaMomo again?” He asks, handing you the device.

“Not at all – I just noticed you have a basic-ass phone background. I think we need to change it to be more you, ya know?” You say, opening his Internet browser app and going to Google images.

“Oh, I’ve never really thought about that before.” He says, leaning to look over your shoulder curiously. “What are you thinking?”

“I feel like lately when we talk you’ve revealed that you like ocean creatures. That whale pillow on Pinterest? The Squirtle plushie? You seem to really like the sea vibe.” You say, typing a quick prompt into the search bar under Todoroki’s watchful eye.

“Huh, that’s true. I find the ocean to be very calming. And the creatures are usually cute.” He wraps his arms around you from behind as the image results populate on the screen. “Oh – I like that one a lot.” He points at a tiny thumbnail image and you click to expand it. It’s an old Lisa Frank design depicting two dolphins leaping out of crystal blue water. The art features a rainbow background of colorful corals and palm trees. It’s vibrant and filled with energy, and seems to fill Shoto with excitement as he buzzes behind you eagerly.

“Oh, I like that one too! All the colors are really nice. Let’s see how it looks as your phone background.” You smile as you save the image and set it as Shoto’s phone screen. He gives you a brief squeeze around the middle as he hugs you, bringing his chin down to rest on your shoulder as he watches you work your tech wizardry. You feel warm and fuzzy inside – Shoto is truly opening up to you. It feels like each day you chip away at his stoic exterior to reveal bits and pieces of his true self.

You hold up the phone and he unfurls an arm from where he’s holding you. He brings the phone to his face and smiles down at his new technicolor dolphin lock screen. You reach up a hand to cup his cheek tenderly and he leans into the touch.

“Thanks, Y/N. I really like this.” He says, turning his phone every which way to admire the artwork. He’s always surprising you. You’re happy he’s starting to get comfortable showing off his true self.

“Of course, Shoto. You should surround yourself with things that make you happy!” You feel your stomach growl and you remember that dinner is only minutes away. “We should really get going, shouldn’t we?” You both laugh as your tummy rumbles again.

Shoto unwinds his from around your stomach and gets to his feet. “Mind checking to see if the coast is clear? I’ll drop off my bag in my room and then see you at the common area.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You slide off the bed, unlock the door and peer out into the hallway. Thankfully, there’s no one in sight. You have a feeling that most of the class is already down in the common area assisting with dinner preparations.

“All clear.” You give Shoto a goofy little salute before opening the door wide for him to exit. He smiles and leans down to place a kiss on your cheek before booking it down the hallway. He hits the staircase and he’s out of sight in a blink of an eye.

You smile and head back inside your room, moving to change into a top that better matches your sweatpants. It feels nice to be taken care of. You wonder how Shoto knew exactly what you needed in order to feel better. Sometimes he seems so…out of touch. And yet, as soon as you need something he seems to lock in and know just what to do. You suspect that’s the true mark of a hero – seeing someone in need and figuring out a way to help. Who would have thought that Shoto Todoroki would become your own personal hero!?

In the dorm, Class A takes turns cooking with everyone rotating meal prep responsibilities. Tonight, Bakugo, Kirishima and Ida are handling the meal and you know it will be delicious. For some reason, Katsuki has some insane cooking skills. The smell of cooking vegetables wafts up from the kitchen and your stomach growls again in response. You leave your room, ambling down to meet the rest of your class in the kitchen area.

You feel much lighter, much happier. Shoto Todoroki is a goddamn prince of a man.

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“Alright, Mineta. We need you to do this for us.”

It’s 8:05 pm and you, Toru, Mina, Nieto Monoma and Minoru Mineta are all holed up in a study room within the Geography section of UA’s oversized library. Nieto purposefully chose this location for your clandestine rendezvous because “no one at this school studies goddamn geography, so it’s the perfect secret meeting spot.”

Mina had invited Mineta with a secret post it note as well. She had passed him a hot pink note in between classes. The note had implied that the two would be having a private meeting to discuss the “raw romantic tension between them.” Needless to say, Mineta had been extremely disappointed to find you, Toru and Nieto all waiting alongside Mina in the geography study room.

After a few not-so-sincere apologies, Nieto and Toru had gotten right to the heart of the matter and explained their master plan and Mineta’s potential role in it. The small purple classmate had listened intently; nodding as Toru unrolled schematics and Nieto explained timing and strategy. He seems genuinely interested in the party plot, and for a moment you think that he might say yes and help you all pull this off.

“What’s in it for me?” Ah, there’s the kicker alright. He looks around at you all expectantly.

Mina crosses her arms and stares him down. “The gratitude of our class and the joy of knowing you helped out your classmates.”

“No way. I want something out of this.” He rubs his hands together, scheming. “If I’m going to participate in this crazy ass plan so that you all can throw some stupid party, I better get something out of it. So here’s my price - 7 minutes in heaven. With each of you.” He looks at Mina challengingly.

“First of all – that’s 21 minutes in heaven. And second of all – majorly GROSS!” Toru bursts out, turning to you for confirmation. You shake your head in disgust as well, ready for Mina to jump in and negotiate terms.

“Absolutely not.” Your pink friend says, her antenna bristling.

“You’re not really in a position to be negotiating, are you?” Mineta leers up at you all. “After all, you need something from me. You should be grateful I’m even thinking about helping out with your crazy scheme considering how much trouble you got our class in last time.”

Mina makes a sour face. Honestly, he kind of has a point.

“7 minutes in heaven is off the table. Name something else.” She spits out, her dark eyes murderous.

“Fine. I get a kiss from each of you. And I get to grope Hagakure’s ass at least once.”

“What!! Why my ass!?” Toru explodes, waving her arms in upset.

Mineta salivates. “Because I have no idea how juicy it is. Just give me one good squeeze so I can truly know.”

“You absolute perv!” Toru roars, reaching out to grab Mineta and give him a good thrashing. You catch your friend’s invisible hands before she can rain down terror on the little miscreant.

“Hey you’re the ones who want to play Spin The Bottle and watch our classmates kiss. You’re just as pervy as me.” Mineta levels you all with a superior look. “I bet Monoma here is getting something good out of this deal, so why shouldn’t I?” He gestures up at Monoma, who up until now has stayed completely silent. This is all part of Mina’s strategy. Ahead of the meeting, she had advised Nieto to keep his talking to a minimum since its likely Mineta wouldn’t trust him.

“What are they promising you in exchange for your help?” The little creep asks Nieto.

“That’s none of your business.” You say, squaring up to your classmate. You decide to play into his insecurities. All’s fair in love and war, right!?

“Look, Mineta. We need your help to get this party off the ground. You’re the only one who can do this job, and it would mean the world to all of our classmates if you went through with it. You’d literally be hailed as the coolest guy in our class. Isn’t that enough? You don’t exactly have the most social clout at the moment.”

Mineta looks at you for a long minute, clearly weighing all of his options. He seems unfazed by your comment about his “coolness” factor.

“Nope. I want whatever he’s getting.” He points at Monoma, who gives him an unhinged look.

“You Class A stooges are so entitled!” He booms, laughing a bit maniacally. Mina smacks the back of his head to give him a hard reset.

“Stay with us, Nieto.” She turns back to Mineta. “Okay in the spirit of transparency, we are helping Monoma get a kiss during Spin The Bottle. To keep things fair, we can guarantee one kiss for you as well. Tell us who you want to kiss, and it will be delivered upon successful completion of work.”

“Heh.” Mineta smirks evilly. “Fine, I accept your terms. For my kiss I choose…Y/N!” He points directly at you, blood dripping from his nose.

You look at your friends and shrug. Unenthusiastically you say: “Fine. Why not.”

“My ass thanks you.” Toru squeaks out, covering her behind with invisible hands. Nieto glares down at Mineta in disgust, but lets you continue to do the talking.

“If this will get our party off the ground, I’m willing to do it.” You look down at Mineta. “Here are the conditions – It’s gonna be a single kiss. Lips closed, no tongue. No groping. No touching. Lips only. Got that?”

Mineta nods eagerly. “Don’t worry. Once you get one taste of these lips, you’ll be begging for more.” He turns back to Mina, awaiting instructions. “So what do you need me to do?”

You all return to the dorms forty minutes later, with plenty of time to get back to your separate rooms before the curfew takes effect.

A battle plan has been drawn out, and commitments have been made. You have a sour taste in your mouth at the thought of your eventual kiss with Mineta, but sacrifices must be made. After all, the fate of the party of the century hangs in the balance.

You make a mental note to make sure that Shoto is cool with all of this – after all, it would be super hypocritical for you to be jealous of Shoto’s non-existent relationship with YaMomo, and then to turn around and give another guy a peck on the mouth.

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When you finally make it back to your dorm, you’re riding an absolute high. You and your friends are planning the biggest secret party in UA history, and with the kickass strategy you all have developed, you anticipate the whole thing going off without a hitch. Monoma truly is a genius – you can’t wait to see his tightly orchestrated plan come to life. The man truly loves pulling all the strings behind the scenes.

Thanks to your nap, you’re feeling a bit more rested and energized. You text Shoto.

Y/N: Hey Shoto, you up?

Shoto: It’s only 9. Of course I’m awake.

Y/N: Have time to come through? I want to properly thank you for taking care of me earlier.

Shoto: I just finished some homework, I can come over for a bit before curfew.

Y/N: Perf! I have the perfect idea of how I can return the favor and TAKE CARE OF YOU! 👀

Shoto: I’m nervous. The all caps coming from you is aggressive.

Y/N: That was supposed to be cute and flirty 😉 Don’t be scared!! ☠️

Shoto: Ok. I’ll be down in 5.

True to his word, Shoto arrives in a timely fashion. He slips through your unlocked door like a ghost in the night.

“Hey, Y/N. How was your meeting with Mina and…?”

His jaw drops in surprise when he looks up to find you in nothing but your bra and panties. It’s a matching set – midnight blue and lacy around the edges. You’re feeling bold.

“I was trying to think of a way that I could properly thank you for taking such good care of me earlier…” You trail off, reaching behind him to turn the lock to your door.

“…And I came up with an idea. Get on the bed?” You ask sweetly. Shoto wastes no time obeying your request. He hurriedly scrambles onto the bed with the speed of a teenage boy who’s been promised a sexual favor. You climb up after him, lifting the hem of his t-shirt suggestively.

“Clothes off.” You say, tugging at the shirt a bit to see a flash of his perfect stomach before dropping the fabric from your fingertips.

Shoto doesn’t need telling twice – he strips, pulling the shirt over his head with lightening fast reflexes. His perfectly toned abs glow under the fairy lights, and you lick your lips at the sight. He hurriedly slips his sweatpants down his hips and takes them off one leg at a time, still managing to look graceful despite his frantic energy.

He throws his pants out onto the floor, out of sight. He’s wearing a pair of loose grey boxer shorts, his hardening cock already visible through the thin fabric. You reach out a hand to trace along the outline of his pulsing member, causing him to get even stiffer under your teasing touch. He looks down at you with that heaven-piercing gaze. Perfect.

You lean towards him, ghosting gentle kisses along the curve of his pale neck.  “What do you want Shoto?” You breathe wetly into his ear, running your hand down his bare chest. “Tell me, and I’ll make it happen.” You hear Shoto’s breath catch in his throat at the implication. An open ended offer is a valuable thing – you wonder how he’ll use it?

“I’m thinking…maybe you could do that thing with your hands again?” He says sheepishly, pupils blown wide as he watches you palm at his dick over his boxers.

“You mean a hand job? Are you asking for a hand job?” You say, laughing, as he blushes crimson as his hair.

“I guess I am.” He says, breathing shakily. He leans down into your hair and mumbles “It feels so much better when you do it. I’ve been trying to replicate it on my own but…it’s just not the same.”

You smile. “I can definitely do that for you. Tell me, how badly do you want it?” You ask in a tone that’s barely above a whisper. You squeeze his package lightly over the boxers. He almost moans at the touch.

“I want it…so badly Y/N. Please.”

The light begging sparks something in your core and you’re already so wet you fear you may soak through your panties. Again. Wow, this is becoming quite a bad habit of yours.

“Take off the boxers.” You command softly, and Shoto accommodates – stripping down to nothing. Once again, here is thisa beautiful man buck naked in your bed. It’s enough to make you see fireworks behind your eyes.

He sits there, fully exposed, his cock hard and laying flush against his taught muscled stomach. You long to reach out and take him in your hand, but you know you know you need to be patient.

“Shoto, you said you’ve been trying to replicate the hand job I gave you?” You ask amiably. He nods. “I want you to show me how you like to do it on your own. Show me how you touch yourself, Sho.”

He glances up at you uncertainly through thick lashes, looking between you and his cock with trepidation. “Are you sure? Would that not be…weird?”

“Not at all!” You reassure him. “It’s the best way for me to learn how to pleasure you. I want to see what you like so I can add it into the mix. It’s like hero training – we need to learn from each other to be the best we can be.”

This analogy makes perfect sense to Shoto, who understands the importance of training. “Alright. If it would help. But I feel pretty self-conscious right now.”

“That’s perfectly understandable.” You say, placing another string of kisses to his jawline. “Try not to be too nervous. Remember - we’re just having fun and exploring, right?” You pause. “Plus…it would be really fuckin’ hot to see you jerk yourself off in my bed. So know that I’m completely and totally into this. If that helps.”

This makes Shoto smile. “It actually does help.” He laughs softly, turning his head to capture your lips in a brief smooch.

“Right.” Shoto says, drawing in a shaky breath. He looks at you nervously, before glancing down at his erect cock once more. He reaches for it, wraps his fingers around himself and gives a light tug. You watch as he slowly starts stroking at himself, concentrating a bit more on the head here and there. He glances up at you from time to time, letting his eyes roam across your breasts and the gentle curves of your hips.

You move the straps of your bra off your shoulders, giving him a bit of a show before you reach behind you to unclip the bra all together. You toss the fabric to the floor in what’s rapidly becoming a familiar gesture with Shoto. His breath hitches in the back of his throat as his eyes take in your perfect breasts. He picks up his pace, jerking himself off in a succinct rhythm as his eyes devour your chest.

“Come here.” He groans. You scoot towards him in the bed.

“What do you want?” You ask, voice soft but demanding.

“I want your breasts in my mouth. Right now.” He says, not breaking stride as he continues to work at his rock hard cock.

You reposition yourself so that you’re slightly above him and you lean forward. He can’t help himself – before you’ve settled into a comfortable position, he’s captured one of your nipples in his mouth. He suckles on it, using his tongue and teeth to tease the delicate flesh. The pleasure that shoots through you is unquantifiable. You lean into his mouth and your eyes flutter shut as he uses his free hand to give attention to your other tit. The gratification is so good you hope he never stops.

But then you remember – you have a goddamn plan here. You should be watching and learning to see what Shoto likes. Your eyes fly open and you try to ignore the absolutely incredible things this Todoroki blessing is doing to your breasts.

“Shoto…” You try to get his attention. He looks up at you from down where he’s sucking on your tit and cocks and eyebrow questioningly.

“Mmm?”

“Shoto, this is fucking hot, but I’m trying to concentrate. Please – show me what you like and talk me through it.” You try to keep your voice as level as possible, even as he pinches a nipple and rubs the pad of his thumb over the delicate nub with his free hand. After a quick moment, comprehension dawns in his eyes and his mouth releases your boob with a wet “pop!”

“Sorry, I got carried away.” His face is red with embarrassment as you slide to sit next to him.

“Don’t be. I like it when you get carried away. You’re so goddamn hot Sho.” You plant a kiss on his cheek. “Now get back to it – and talk me through what you like.”

Shoto looks down at his cock and resumes stroking it. “So I hold my hand like this around it, see?” He demonstrates how he keeps a loose closed grip around his dick, sliding his hand along the base for a few deep strokes before concentrating around the head. “This part is the most sensitive, so when I want to finish I concentrate a lot here. But first I work myself up by starting down here.” He moves his hand down to the base of his dick to show you. “And I’ll tease myself a little as I work back up to the top.”

“Sometimes, I like to touch my…um…testicles a bit. It feels really nice to kind of…uh this is super awkward to explain…it feels good to move them around?”

“I think I understand.” You say, watching as he shows you how he likes to be played with. You let him work at himself until you see shiny beads of pre-cum form at the head of his cock.

“Okay, my turn to drive.” You say, reaching to shoo Shoto’s steady hand out of the way so that you can replace it with your own. “There we go.” You wrap your hand around his hard cock and start at the base the way he explained. You slowly roll your hand midway up his shaft before bringing it back down to the base. Shoto sighs at the motion, his hips flexing in a way that implies that he’s dying to thrust up into your hand.

You continue to tease him that way, coming closer and closer to the sensitive tip of his cock without truly touching it. You can tell by the expressions stretched across his face that he simultaneously loves and hates what you’re doing to him. You grin; enjoying the control you have as you edge him.

With your free hand, you reach down to fondle his balls, trying to mimic the motion he showed you. There’s a sharp intake of breath when you start to shift his package around, and you can tell from the way he bites back a moan that it must feel so, incredibly good to be touched this way.

Finally, you release his cock and bring your small hand to your mouth. You make a show of licking the palm of your hand before spitting cleanly into it. Shoto’s eyes widen in surprise at the crude gesture, but his cock twitches in anticipation.

You bring your spit-filled hand down to his dick and resume jerking him off – this time starting low at the base and continuing all the way up to the tip. Your saliva allows for your hand to slide and glide in a delicious way that it hadn’t previously. Shoto lets out a curse followed by your name at the feeling.

“Fuck, Y/N. Holy fucking fuck.” It’s the most you’ve ever heard him curse, and the lilt of his lust filled voice is absolutely sinful. You grin like a Cheshire cat as you stroke him the way he showed you, focusing on the sensitive head. His breathing is ragged, and he’s absolutely wrecked as you continue to run your lubed up hand along the very tip of his rigid member. “Shit. Y/N. I’m going to - ”

Shoto orgasms hard - thick waves of hot cum shooting up and flowing over your delicate hand as you continue to work at him. His legs jerk with the suddenness of his climax. His breath hitches in his throat and you fear that he’s stopped breathing as his hips roll up, thrusting his cock into your grip over and over and over. You use your hand to milk him for all that he’s worth, being sure to mimic the way that you had watched him grip his dick earlier in his demonstration. The expression on his face is priceless – his eyes are wide and filled with an expression of rapture, his mouth caught open in a small “o.”

Whatever you’re doing seems to be doing the trick, because it is quite a bit before he catches his breath and politely removes your hand from his spent, pulsing cock. He’s over stimulated and panting, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Y/N, that was…” He’s still breathing heavy.

You reach across him to grab a conveniently placed washcloth off of your nightstand (you had a feeling that you’d be needing some cleanup supplies tonight). You wipe the sticky mess from your hand before giving him the cloth. He gratefully accepts, wiping the cum that’s pooled along the defined planes of his stomach and in the well of his bellybutton. “That was incredible. You take direction so well.” He says, his voice a bit fuzzy around the edges as he drops his head back to rest on your pillow.

You lay back with him, moving your clean hand to stroke his hair slowly. He leans into the touch, eyes heavy and half lidded as he comes down from his high.

“I’m a fast learner.” You say, enjoying the soft texture of his fluffy hair as you flutter your fingers through his dense locks. You lay there for a few minutes, playing with  Shoto’s hair and letting him bask in the afterglow. He’s completely naked and gorgeous in the glow of your fairy lights, his pale skin rippling with muscle.

“It’s almost curfew…you’d better get going in case Mr. Aizawa makes a bed check appearance.” You say with regret, wishing Shoto could stay with you through the night.

Shoto turns his head and groans into your shoulder. “But I want to stay here forever. It’s so comfortable here with your hands in my hair. And I’m so tired now.” He almost whines. You smile – a month ago you would have never thought Shoto Todoroki capable of whining. 

“I wish you could stay, too.” You coo, continuing to card your fingers through his mismatched locks.

“I like it here. Maybe I’ll move in. Stake claim on all of your plushes.” He reaches out and grabs his favorite plush from behind your head. He holds it close to your face and waves it up and down a few times, pretending to make it dance. “Squirtle, Squirtle.” He says in a strained, warbley voice. You giggle at his goofy attempt at mimicking the water Pokémon.

Afterglow Shoto sure is chatty. He looks so open and relaxed, his facial features at rest.

“Oh my God Shoto…did you finally look up Pokémon!?”

He hugs the plush to his bare chest and laughs. “I watched 12 episodes. I had to keep watching until Squirtle showed up. I would give my life for the Squirtle Squad.”

This cracks you up. You laugh even harder when you look up and see the way that Shoto is sprawled across your bed – completely naked except for the large Squirtle plush clutched to his chest. You point at him and make a little choked squeak. He realizes how ridiculous he looks and soon you’re both in hysterics, gasping for breath. It’s a wonder that no one has knocked on your door yet and asked you to quiet down.

After a few minutes you both calm down enough to catch your breath. You slide off the bed and scoop Shoto’s grey boxers off the ground and toss them in his direction. He drops Squirtle for a moment so he can shimmy into his underwear. Partially clothed once more, he flops on his back and pulls the covers up to his chin. He tucks Squirtle in beside him. You move to get back into the bed and join him, but he holds up a hand and puts on a serious expression. “Sorry – there’s no room for you. This bed is for card carrying members of the Squirtle Squad only.”

You smile and then paste a theatrical pout on your face. “You goof. How does one apply for Squirtle Squad membership?”

“Hmm.” Shoto brings his hand to his chin as if deep in thought. “You need to pay our membership dues. It’ll cost you a kiss.”

“That’s pretty expensive.”

“Squad Membership is well worth the fee, I promise.” He nods stoically, looking over at the Squirtle plush beside him. “Squirtle can confirm.” He gestures at the plush, which stares up at you blankly with its large embroidered eyes.  

“What does Squad Membership include?” You ponder aloud, pretending to think it over.

“If you join up now, I’ll act as your official heat and ice pack.” Shoto holds up both hands above his face as an offering. “And I’ll make you cum whenever you want.”

“Whenever I want?” You repeat. “Now that’s an intriguing offer. I think I’ll take it.” You lean down and cup his soft cheek in your hand, bringing his mouth to yours. Your lips melt into his and you kiss him soundly. He moans into your mouth, moving his lips softly against your own.

It’s wonderful to be with him like this – so open and having fun like regular teenagers. There’s no pressure to put on a brave face and to be strong heroes in training. In these stolen moments, its okay to just be. You break the kiss and pull yourself up into he bed and under the comforter. Within seconds, you’re wrapped up in Shoto’s arms and he pulls you against his bare chest.

“Welcome to the Squad. Your membership is approved.” He places a kiss on your forehead and you snuggle into him. You take a deep breath, letting your tired body relax against Shoto’s solid warmth. 

You lay in silence for a bit, just enjoying each others company. Shoto’s breathing is slow and even. You can tell he’s feeling comfortable and relaxed after his orgasm. He nuzzles his face into your shoulder and huffs into the curve of your neck. After a bit, Shoto gets too warm and uncouples himself from you so he can pull down the comforter a bit.

“You know, I was thinking…” Shoto rolls over onto his back and crosses his arms behind his head. He’s partially naked and gorgeous in the glow of your fairy lights, his pale skin rippling with muscle. He looks up at the ceiling. “Summer training camp is coming up. I heard that this year we are going for 2 weeks. They plan to put us through a week and a half of training, and then we’ll get a few days just to have fun and enjoy being outside. There will be hiking, and campfires…maybe the two of us can sneak off and just have some time together? No curfews, no whispering. No hiding away.” He turns his head to look at you.

“That sounds really, really nice.” You say, reaching over to give him a big boop on his nose. He smiles at the contact. You love seeing him like this – usually he is so closed off and stoic. Every smile you can get out of him is a prize in itself. “I doubt we’ll truly be able to sneak off given how large and damn nosy our class is…but we can definitely try.”

Shoto closes his eyes, a blissful expression etched across his features. “I just picture the two of us on a moonlit hike, just able to enjoy the scenery together. We can listen to the cicadas and the crickets in the quiet of the dark. It’s such a calming thought in my mind. I’d like to share that moment of peace with you.”

“Orgasms make you talk nonsense.” You joke, trying to ignore the way that your heart is squeezing at his words.

He opens his eyes and scans your face. “You’d like that, though?”

“Of course I would, Shoto. It would be nice to get out of the city and to see some greenery. To be together outside of our dorm rooms. I wish that we didn’t need to sneak around so much…I wish that we were older and that we could just do whatever we want without consequence.” You say wistfully, reaching to grab your phone and check the time. “Crap, it’s nearly 10.”

Shoto pulls you into another embrace, shifting his hands around you so he can cradle your breasts. He plays with your nipples a bit, swirling his fingertips around them delicately. You gasp at the contact, your pussy instantly responding to the touch.  “I can’t go yet – I haven’t made you cum.” Shoto whispers thickly into your ear, pinching a nipple with each hand. You make a strangled sort of noise, sliding a hand down between your legs to give your clit a brief pulse to sate the hungry way its pulsing beneath the smooth fabric of your panties.

“Shoto…if you stay any longer and Aizawa comes around, we’re gonna get caught.” You say in a pained voice as he continues to play with your tits. You can’t let this go any further or you both are done for. “Shoto, you’ve gotta go.”

“But it’s not fair if I don’t make you - ” You move to regretfully remove his wandering hands from your boobs.

“I can take care of it myself this time.” You say, in a sultry tone. “And I’ll think of you the whole time.” You turn to look over your shoulder to see Shoto’s face has gone beat red at the implication that you’ll be spending the rest of the evening masturbating to thoughts of him.

He lets out a shaky breath, still clearly uncomfortable with the thought of leaving you hanging. “Alright, Y/N. But next time, the focus is all on you to make up for it. Okay?”

“I think I can live with that.” You smile, and reach behind you to give him a light shove to leave.

Shoto grins softly as he untangles himself from you, climbing over your body to get out of the bed. His feet hit the ground and he stretches languidly before reaching for his abandoned clothes. He pulls his shirt and pants on unceremoniously as you watch, laughing at the way his soft sweatpants stretch back into place over the smooth curve of his ass.

“You’re too cute.” You say, reaching to pull him back to the bed so you can give him one more quick kiss. He smiles into the smooch, wrapping his arms around you in a warm, steady embrace.

“I’ll text you?” He says softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I’ll make sure I take my phone back with me this time.” This earns a laugh.

“Please do.”

“Well, goodnight then.” He kisses your cheek and then makes his way to the door; he peaks out into the hallway before making his usual fast exit. You pray he doesn’t get caught by Aizawa again – he would probably demand an explanation from Shoto.

You lay in your bed, relaxed, staring up at your ceiling. Life sure has been complicated lately – between school, training, an unexpected romance, and the illicit party planning, you sure are having an adventure.

You allow yourself to replay a scene from earlier in your mind: “Fuck, Y/N. Holy fucking fuck.” Shoto curses as you stroke his cock mercilessly, bringing him to the brink of climax. “Shit. Y/N. I’m going to…”

You feel arousal twinge between your legs once again and you bring your fingers down to touch yourself over your panties. You wish Shoto was still here to help – all you can think of is the loving way that he sometimes uses his wet tongue to play with your nipples. You roll over onto your stomach so you can increase the pressure of your fingers against your clit. Mmm. You replay the image of Shoto’s pretty “O” face over and over again as you bring yourself to the brink of climax.

Before long, new thoughts are blooming into your brain. You imagine what it would be like to have Shoto’s fingers on you instead. What would it be like to feel that pretty cock slide inside of you - to be physically filled to the brim with Shoto Todoroki? You’ve never really fantasized about actual act of intercourse before, and you wonder how it would feel to be that connected with Shoto. You picture his voice pitching and sighing as he slides in and out of you, his strong hands bracing on your hips. The thought of Shoto’s thick cock sliding against your wet pussy causes your breath to stick in your throat. Your heart pulses impossibly fast as you use your fingertips to push yourself over the edge, gasping into your pillow. Oh fuck that’s good.

Shoto Todoroki and his hot body are truly going to be the death of you. You can picture your epitaph in your head – “Here lies Y/N. She was brought to the gates at heaven by Shoto Todoroki’s hard cock. May she rest in peace, having known what true ecstasy feels like.”

You smile at that unhinged thought. Your phone buzzes next to you and you flip around the screen to see a text from Shoto.

Shoto: I made it back to my dorm room. Did not get caught this time.

Shoto: Typing.

Shoto: Did you…take care of things?

Y/N: Haha yeah. I just finished. Was thinking about you the whole time.

Shoto replies with a single word.

Shoto: Fuck.

Shoto: Next time, I’ll take care of you myself. I promise.

Y/N: You've already taken care of me so much today, but I’ll hold you to that. ☺️ Goodnight, Shoto.

Shoto: Goodnight Y/N.

You put your phone back on your bedside table and snuggle up in your bed, pulling the Squirtle plush close to you and wishing that it were Shoto Todoroki.

End of Chapter.

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Previous Chapter: Part 4 | Next Chapter: Part 6

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Author's Note:

HOLY GUACAMOLE!! This chapter ended up being 30 pages - I know in my last chapter post I said that Chapter 5 would focus on The Party - but y'all all of your reactions to the Chapter 4 cliff hanger made me want to create a more satisfying plot line surrounding the YaMomo text. In short - the comments you leave influence the story a lot more than you'd think! So I hope you enjoyed this chapter and Shoto's sweet way of taking care of the Reader. I try to make The Reader a pretty general character so that it's easy to self-insert, but she's kind of developing her own personality which is fun too!

Part 6 is already in the works and partially written. I have most of THE PARTY scenes drafted and typed out, and I'm really excited for you all to see what I've been cooking up for this story arc. I also want to lay the ground work for future arcs as well - I don't anticipate this tale ending any time soon! It seems to take me a month/month and a half to churn out each chapter, so please feel free to check out my other work on My Master List as you wait!

I have been so locked in on this Todoroki story that I've been neglecting one shots lately. I hope to finish a little Kirishima focused fic soon, plus I have an idea for a tale surrounding All Might (the working title is gonna be something like "United States of Smash that Ass" idk its gonna be goofy and All Might is gonna have a huge cock or something stupid like that). TLDR: Keep an eye on my blog for more fun content surrounding our other favorite heroes as you wait for Chapter 6!

As always, thank you thank you thank you for all of your positive comments, messages and reblogs of my work. This passion project has brought me so much joy and I love how much joy it seems to bring all of you. Thanks for joining me on this wild ride, excited to see all that happens next!

XoXo, Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

❄️🔥THE ICYTHOTS🔥❄️

Want to join or be removed from the tag list - let me know! Once again, this is an ADULT ONLY blog. The IcyThot club is exclusively dedicated to the Shoto's First Kiss series and will only include A18+. Do not request to be added unless you are over 18. I'm also adding the "sexual content" label/tags.

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[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader Run

Synopsis: Running hand in hand with Ser Aemond as you try to escape a suitor. Warnings: None (yet), Familial Problems, Aemond and Princess Growing Closer, Fluff, Comfort PREVIOUS PART / NEXT PART A/N: Is it too soon to say foreshadowing?

Aemond woke with the first light shining upon his closed eye. Aemond furrowed his brows, not fully aware of what he had done— he had slept! He had slept through his post the entire night. With such realizations, Aemond suddenly opened his eye, sitting up straight only to realize that the usual coldness his metal and leather armor presented turned warm. He looked down upon his frame and saw the fur blanket that was once on your bed. He looked further upon his current situation, one of your tattered plush animals in between his arms. “Good morning, Ser Aemond.” He heard you call; he looked up only to see you dressed in your embroidered robe, sitting on the carpeted floor, playing with your pet. 

Aemond blinked and quickly stood, springing back to his usual guarded disposition, making you laugh at how quickly he shed the peacefulness you observed whilst he slept. He looked quite serene with his eyes closed and his face not adorned by the harsh stoicism he usually presented. “Princess… why did you not wake me?” He questioned, clearing his throat as his voice still held the traces of sleep. “And why should I? I’m not that cruel,” You smiled, petting your feline as he purred at your touch. “Yet still— you sh—“ You sighed and shook your head at your knight, who still clutched your favorite plush animal in his arm. It was quite unnecessary for you to place it on his hold, but you could not resist! You could deny yourself the image of your strong, frightening knight holding your favored plush toy that you sought every time you were rendered afraid when you were a child. 

When Aemond realized you were still giggling, he looked down at his frame and saw the reason for the glee in your eyes. He sighed as he took hold of the plush animal you placed in his grasp and placed it on the chair. “You should have woken me, princess.” He sighed. “You needed rest.” You insisted, turning away from Ser Aemond for a moment to place a kiss on your pet’s head. Aemond was ready to argue once more, but you spoke first. “No sense to argue about such matters; what’s done is done. You had the respite you needed, and no danger came into the night.” Aemond bit his tongue, preferring to focus on the respite you bestowed upon him and the kind gesture you showed. 

When a knock upon your door sounded out in the room, Aemond unbarred it, thinking it was your handmaiden ready to dress you for the day, but the knight was met with the prince. “Good morrow, Ser Aemond. Is my sister awake?” He questioned, and the knight nodded, moving out of the way for the prince to enter. “Sister th— why are you on the floor! I told you not to sit there! It’s quite dirty; you’ll get congestion!” Your brother fretted, and Aemond was quick to go to your place and aid you in standing. “What is it, brother?” You sighed, taking a few moments before stealing away your hold from your knight’s arm. 

“Lord Dumont is asking to break your fast with him in the gardens.” You frowned, and your knight stilled. “I do not want to.” You said quickly, and Aemond felt an odd sense of relief wash over him. Your brother sighed, “Blatantly denying his request would be most impertinent— please, sister, you must humor the lord.” Your brother said as he watched disgust present itself on your face. “Then say that I cannot because… because I am injured!” You suddenly proposed, moving forward your injured arm as evidence, but in doing so, you were only overcome with pain, making you wince. Your knight was not certain what to do because he could not let his concern for you show when in the presence of your brother. “Oh sister, you cannot use your injury as reason— I saw you running around the garden just yesterday!” 

“I wasn’t running,” You muttered, glancing towards your knight, who gave you a knowing look, for you truly did run away from him yesterday. “That is beside the point— the point is, you must break your fast and spend the morning with Lord Dumont.” Your brother sighed, and you shook your head in defiance, and for once, Aemond agreed to your stubbornness. “Sister, you are of age now! We cannot ward off the eligible lords forever!” Your brother explained, not expecting to have this argument with you so early in the morning. “You could try,” You mumbled, looking upon the floor, your knight doing the same in order to hinder his smirk. 

“Enough! This is not up for discussion; you will spend the morning with lord Dumont. I am not asking you to marry him; just humor him because that is what any princess does.” You parted your mouth to speak, but your brother quickly scurried out of your chambers, and in exchange for him was your handmaid who readied you for the day whilst Ser Aemond exited your chambers and took his post outside your door. 

Ser Aemond stood behind you as you sat with lord Dumont in the gardens. The knight resisting to aid you in all that you need for the lord Dumont offered his services. “How long are you to stay in the capitol, my lord?” You drawled, trying to make conversation with the nobleman who you were in no mood to entertain. “As long as the crown will have me, my princess,” He smiled charmingly, inching towards you, and you could only force a small smile to come to your lips. For the better part of the morning, you had to force yourself to appear interested in the lord, who discussed philosophy with you. In other cases, you would find the topic interesting, but all the lord discussed with you was misinformation— the matters were muddled in his mind, and he did not articulate it well as he spoke. Aemond heard you let out a grieved sigh as you were driven to a frenzy due to the dullness of the lord. 

“Is anything the matter, princess?” Lord Dumont questioned as he heard the sigh leave your lips. You blinked for a moment, thinking of an answer. “Oh, no… I am just… thirsty. Would you be so kind as to fetch me a cup of wine?” You say, batting your lashes in order to convince him that it must be him to fetch you refreshment and leave your side instead of him ordering a squire. “But of course, anything for you, princess,” The lord smiled. You returned his smile and watched as he disappeared amongst the shrubbery of the gardens before quickly turning to your knight. “You must help me get out of this,” You said in desperation, already expecting him to disagree, for he was always stubborn and restrained himself to the laws of men. “Very well, princess,” he nodded, and words of further persuasion left your lips as you thought he had disagreed. “Oh— wait, did you agree?” You asked, and Aemond bit the insides of his cheek as he gave another nod. “Well then, come on!” You said and took hold of his hand as you rushed out of the gardens, readily escaping your suitor. 

“Princess— where are we going?” Aemond asked. He fretted that you would trip as you two passed the halls, trying not to let his sensibilities get clouded as you did not let go of his hand— letting him feel your soft touch against his roughed ones. “I do not know. Somewhere my brother could not find me and force me to spend another second with that lord. Did you hear what he was saying? He was insisting that Archmaester Atticus is the one responsible for the belief that there are two worlds—“ 

“Our world, the material world—which is the imperfect copy of the real world.” Ser Aemond finished your sentence as you two slowed down, far enough from the gardens and your brother’s wing. “Yes.” You nodded and finally let go of your knight’s hand. “And when I informed him that it was indeed not Archmaester Atticus but rather his teacher, Archmaester Philo— he laughed at me in ridicule!” You explained in disbelief that such treatment was bestowed upon you. “Me?! He was laughing at me in ridicule as if I were the one who was wrong! If this were my grandmother’s decade, the punishment for mocking a princess is hanging! Or at least a moon in the black cells,” Aemond breathed out a laugh, even though he tried to resist it. “He was quite insufferable, princess. Dull and… apparently dumb, as well.” Aemond commented lowly. “I know! And my brother wants me to consider him as a prospect for my hand! Imagine!” You exclaimed, with a disapproving shake of your head. “I can’t,” You knight commented. “Nor can I,” You agreed. 

“Princess?!” You hear the call of lord Dumont, making you take your knight’s hand once more and flee to another wing of the keep. “What is this place?” Ser Aemond questioned as he led you to a dusted and what appeared to be an abandoned hall. “It was my great grandparents’ wing— grandfather closed it after their death, wanting to preserve the memory of his parents.” You say as Ser Aemond helped you bar the great doors. “Did you know they died on the same day?” You say, and Aemond shook his head. “Was there a plague? Were they attacked?” He questioned, and you made a face at his rather grim assumptions. “No,” You say as you two thread further into the abandoned wing. “My great-grandmother died in her sleep, and my great-grandfather discovered her. He made it through the rest of the day, preparing her wake in the specificity that she had always wanted, and when night came… great-grandfather joined her in the afterlife.” You informed, your knight slowing down in his steps as he tried to comprehend your words. “He was in perfect health despite his advanced age… and they concluded that the reason for his death is because he found no point in living after his wife’s demise.” 

You paused by a portrait that was dusted and was holding the remnants of lapsed time, gazing upon your great-grandmother who sat on the throne and her husband in his rightful place, standing beside her. Aemond turned his eye towards you, who was looking with longing upon the portrait of your great-grandmother and her husband, who was once her sworn protector. “They were the last love match in our family,” You suddenly said, bringing Aemond out of his reverie. “What?” He asked, uncertain of what you said as he was too focused on gazing upon you. 

“They were the last love match,” You repeated. “They were the last rulers in our family who married for love rather than just duty— after that, as much as they tried, their children only married their spouses for the sake of the crown or gain. Even my mother and father… and I suppose me and my brother as well,” You sighed heavily. “As a child, I dreamed about breaking such dreary and hopeless traditions, but time and time again, I am reminded that such dreams are not meant for my station— we’re not meant to marry for love but rather for logic.” Aemond’s hold on the hilt of his sword tightened as he heard you utter such words. Never had he heard you so… serious and pessimistic. “That could still change, princess,” You turned to your knight, surprised at his uncharacteristic show of optimism. 

“I hope. But if it were up to the others— I would be married to the next wealthy lord who asked for my hand,” You say, an odd twisting in your stomach as you uttered the truth of your situation and a flutter in your heart at the dark look in your knight’s eye. “I could kill them— or perhaps maim them beyond repair,” Aemond said, serious, but you only laughed, taking your knight’s words as a jest. “Again, I’m not that cruel,” You laughed. “Let’s go; I know a passage here that leads to the library,” You say, taking hold of your knight’s hand out of habit as you two ran through the halls once more. 

“Such insolence! Do you truly not think about anyone else but yourself!?” You looked upon the floor as your mother came to your chambers later that day to scold you for the disrespect you showed towards lord Dumont. Aemond was standing by the door at his usual post, resisting to go by your side as you shrunk in your spot and as your mother poured out her rage. “By gods— how are you this selfish?! Do you not understand how important and heavy the influence of lord Dumont’s house presents to the kingdom?! And you had the gull to escape him as if he were the plague! You ingrate!” You bit harshly at the inside of your cheeks to prevent the sobs that wanted to escape, letting your tears hit the ground as you could not find it in yourself to defend the actions that you believed to be necessary.

Aemond could only watch as each pearl tear rolled from your eyes and dropped upon the floor. “I… I did not wish to offend him— but I did not think him to be a suitable suitor… did he not sire two children by his sister’s handmaiden? Children that he does not acknowledge nor care for. How could I marry such a man? I did not want to waste my time on a futile courtship.” Your mother scoffed. “Waste your time?” She asked in ridicule. “And how valuable is your time that you cannot even perform your simple duty? Would you rather spend your precious time painting another useless landscape? Or perhaps run wildly around the gardens? Tell me. Where must your time be spent?!” You bit your tongue as your fingers picked at themselves as a distraction from your tears. “You’re so self-centered! But I suppose that is the outcome when your father grants all you want and wish for. Letting you grow up spoiled and without regard for anyone else but yourself!” Aemond swallowed thickly as he could not disagree more with your mother’s words. He greatly wanted to defend you,  to tell your mother how truly selfless you are, how well loved you are by your subjects, and how everything she said was entirely far from the truth, but Aemond kept reminding himself of his place. 

“You wretched child!” Your mother screamed, raising her hand to slap you in the face. You flinched, ready to be met with a harsh slap, but your mother hindered herself midway, and your knight finally had enough, moving forward to get to you. The clank of his armor caught the attention of your cowering frame and your mother’s, whose hand was still cocked in the air. Aemond bit his tongue as he was met with the loathsome gaze of the queen. When he told you moons ago that no one could truly hate you even if they tried, he believed his words to be true. But to see the hate in your mother’s eyes, Aemond felt unfortunate as he had sold you a lie.

Aemond lowered his gaze, reluctantly returning to his post. “Just wait until your father hears about the way you had treated lord Dumont— I’m finally certain you wouldn’t be so endearing in his eyes now. There is only so long a time when he could indulge your ways, blaming your carelessness and crassness on youth. But you are of age now, daughter. He could no longer turn a blind eye to the unruly, self-involved, and indulgent girl you truly are.” You whimpered as your mother threaded close to you, spewing out the spiteful words so close to your face. 

The queen let out a breath, walking to your door as you continued to whimper, still forcing yourself not to let your sobs escape your lips. Before your mother exited your chambers, she paused by the door, “And no sweets for a moon!” She proclaimed before forcefully slamming shut the wooden door, leaving you, who finally let out a sob. Your mother seemed discontented at the hurtful words she spewed; she had to spite you and take one of the things you truly enjoyed and loved in the world: your precious sweets. 

Aemond moved to take hold of your tremoring frame, your tears never ceasing, but you backed away. “Could you… s—step outside for a moment,” You say, your voice tremoring as you turn away from your knight, not wanting him to see your cry once more— it was becoming a habit, and you did not want to get used to letting him see you in such a vulnerable state. Aemond shook his head even though you were not turned to him. “Please? I… I need a moment,” You insisted, your voice breaking further. Aemond sighed, moving to pry away your hands that covered your crying face. “I… I’m not leaving you, princess,” He muttered and pulled you into his arms, letting you cry into his chest, and he could only hope that his presence would be enough to comfort you. It was. 

[themultifanshipper]

Back again the the lanoscar x sainz x reader

She(they) messing with all three of themm Lando and Oscar know about each other but they didn’t know about Carlos and Carlos didn’t know about them but then she gets caught somehow and they all fuck together 🤤

Your teammate Carlos was a nosy bitch when he wanted to be. And today he was going to reap the consequences.

Warnings: smut, more smut, threesome, almost foursome?, ferrari driver reader, bickering, Lando is barely there i'm not gonna lie, this is basically Carcar feat reader and special guest Lando, Oscar discovering things about himself, use of toys, one singular spank, dominant Carlos, sub Oscar

Requested from my prompt list

You were in his hotel room, riding him like your life depended on it and he was panting into your mouth as his hands wandered over your body.

This was far from an unusual occurrence. Often during race weekends you found yourself wandering into his room looking for some uhh… teammate bonding time.

But then he had to go and open his big mouth.

“You were not very discreet yesterday, I heard you in your room with Lando.”

You froze on top of him and your wide eyes snapped to his.

Being teammates, your rooms were generally next to each other. And yeah, you enjoyed blowing off steam during race weekends, sometimes with Carlos, sometimes with… well, not Carlos.

“It's okay hermosa, I'm not jealous or anything, I was just surprised. I guess I should have seen this coming, you and Lando have been getting a lot closer recently…” he started kissing up your neck.

“Uhhhh” was the only thing you managed to answer.

The problem wasn’t that you didn't want Carlos to know about you and Lando. The two of you were perfectly content for the other drivers to know about your escapades, and Lando was particularly… open about his sex life and who he told about it.

No, the problem was that it wasn't Lando in your room last night.

But you weren’t sure how Carlos would react if he knew that you were also hooking up with the man he despises.

“Maybe next time I can join you, no?”

The image of Carlos and Oscar fighting over you flashed in your mind. The hesitancy must have been visible on your face because he quickly added “Me and Lando used to have fun when we were teammates, I'm sure he wouldn't mind”

Yeah Lando definitely wouldn't mind.

Lando had been having regular threesomes with you.

But the third person was Oscar. And you weren't sure if Carlos knew about Lando and Oscar either.

So you brushed off the subject as a maybe and carried on riding him until you both came, successfully putting the subject out of his mind.

…

A few weeks later, you and Oscar had planned to see each other in your hotel room after a complicated practice.

Once you were both naked, he suggested sending a text to Lando to invite him over to join in the fun. Which he did. And you waited… and waited.

After a while you gave up on waiting.

You were so impatient you started without him and you found yourself perched on the end of the bed, on your hands and knees while Oscar pounded into you from behind, gripping onto your hips for dear life.

You were so loud that Carlos, who once again had the room next door, could hear everything.

And he assumed that you knew he was there and that you were doing this on purpose to tempt him to come over.

He knocked on your door and you moaned in relief, thinking it was Lando.

Oscar shouted for him to come in, neither of you wanting to stop your activities to go and open the door.

Carlos stepped inside and his jaw dropped at what he saw.

Oscar saw him at the same time and his hips stilled immediately.

“What the fuck, Carlos? Get out!”

Carlos ignored him in favour of staring at you.

“I thought you were fucking Lando!”

You felt Oscar's hands on your hips squeeze lightly in question and you sighed, dropping your head onto the mattress.

“I am fucking Lando…” you looked back up at him “and Oscar”

“You're fucking BOTH OF THEM?”

“Evidently, yes” you rolled your eyes.

His eyebrows furrowed “Why did you tell me to come in then?”

Oscar replied for you. “Because we were expecting Lando, dipshit”

Carlos growled and stared daggers at the two of you.

“So you don't want a threesome with me, but you'll accept this fucking guy? Unbelievable”

“Hey!” Oscar interjected angrily “I'm the one with my dick inside her so she obviously doesn't want you. Now kindly fuck off and let us get back to it”

Carlos stepped closer to the bed, fists clenched with barely contained anger “I have been fucking her longer than you have known her, so watch your fucking tone with me”

Oscar froze, and you could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head.

“You've been fucking Carlos? Seriously?”

You whined and nodded.

“I guess me and Lando need to step up our game if you're going to this guy for more…” he spat, voice full of venom.

Carlos scoffed “You are basically a child, I have much more experience than you”

“Oh yeah?” Oscar twitched inside you and started lazily rolling his hips against yours, sending waves of pleasure across your body “Then why am I the one currently inside her and you were in your room probably getting off to the sound of us?”

“You little shit, I thought you were Lando!” Carlos was raising his voice a bit now, and Oscar just thrusted into you harder.

“And my point still stands!”

The fucker was getting off on having the upper hand on Carlos.

“Then maybe when you are done I can take over and show you how a real man does it!”

“Oh please! If you fuck like you drive it'll be a snooze fest!”

“Well then maybe I should fuck you and shut you up!”

The sharp intake of breath behind you was a welcome pause in the bickering. None of you quite knowing what to say after that.

But you felt Oscar twitch inside you again. And that was the moment you knew you had to see that.

“That would literally be the hottest thing I've ever seen” you piped up and both pairs of eyes snapped to you.

“I want to see you two fuck”

Oscar shivered and Carlos, who was pretty riled up already, seemed to be seriously considering it.

You pushed Oscar off and went to sit near the headboard.

“Come on boys, we don't have all night” you purred seductively “If you really want to make me happy, get on the bed”

They both complied reluctantly, eyeing each other up as they went, Carlos taking off the long tshirt he was wearing that had been covering his already hard bulge.

They just kneeled in front of each other, staring daggers and obviously over thinking this way too hard.

Seemed like they were going to need a bit of coaxing if this was going to work.

You positioned yourself in front of them, and pulled them toward you by the arm.

You pulled Carlos in for a sloppy kiss as your hand went to Oscar's cock, teasingly stroking and thumbing the tip, tightening your grip as Carlos did something with his tongue that made you almost lose sense of where you were.

Once you heard a soft “fuck” from Oscar, you switched, shoving Carlos' boxers down and finally touching him while your mouth went to Oscar, biting his lip and sucking it just like you knew drove him wild.

Once they were both sufficiently riled up you leaned back, hands stroking them both at the same time.

“Now you two” you panted, lack of air making your head light..

Their kiss was violent, but entertaining as they fought for dominance and their hips bucked into your hands.

Carlos's hands went to grip Oscar's ass, hard, and the younger man whined, allowing the Ferrari driver to push his tongue into his mouth.

The rest of their bodies collided and you just managed to let them go before you ended up with a sprained wrist, as Carlos quickly pushed Oscar down onto the bed and started ravishing him, painting his jaw and neck in purple blemishes as he went.

Oscar was panting hard and his hands scrambled to find purchase in the sheets as Carlos got a hand around him.

“Carlos fuck-”

“I'm going to fuck you, Oscar. I'm going to show you exactly how she likes it”

“I dare you to fucking try you-”

He never finished the thought as Carlos manhandled him onto his hands and knees, facing you, and spanked him, hard.

The noise Oscar let out was frankly embarrassing and Carlos leaned over him, a hand coming to wrap around his throat.

“Be a good boy and follow the lesson”

Oscar looked wrecked already and when Carlos shoved two fingers in his mouth and ordered him to ‘suck’, his eyes fluttered closed and he complied without another word.

Holy fuck. You'd never seen Oscar so submissive and it was igniting a fire in your gut that you couldn’t ignore, so you trailed a hand down your body and slid a finger over your clit lightly, just to get some relief.

Carlos pulled his fingers out of Oscar's mouth and circled one around Oscar's rim.

Oscar was so relaxed, Carlos’ finger barely met any resistance as he pushed it in down to the knuckle in one go.

It didn't take much time for a second and third to join it, by which point Oscar was all but begging for Carlos' cock. And Carlos was nothing if not generous, so he slicked himself up with the lube you’d handed to him when he was on the second finger, and thrusted all the way in to the hilt in one swift move.

He grazed Oscar's prostate on the way in and the sound that came out of the younger man was somewhere between a wail and a punched out moan. It was so fucking hot.

Lando, ever the punctual fucker, had chosen that exact moment to barge into the room.

He was about to apologise for being late but the sight before him made his breath catch in his throat.

“What the fuck”

Oscar, still being held up by his throat, barely noticed his presence so Carlos answered instead.

“What does it look like? I'm fucking some manners into this brat.”

With that he started slamming his hips into Oscar's, making the younger man choke on his spit.

Lando just looked at you in shock.

“How the hell did this happen?”

You just shrugged and motioned him over. “Get your clothes off and get over here”

You've never seen a man undress so fast. He joined you on the bed and marveled at the sight of his old teammate railing the shit out of Oscar, who was babbling nonsense, his front now pushed into the sheets.

“Holy shit” Lando said, taking in the state of his current teammate. “Fuck. Oscar you're so hot like this”

His thumb came to rub at Oscar's bottom lip and the younger man let his tongue roll out of his mouth to let Lando press down on it.

“God. You want to be good for me and let me use your mouth?”

Oscar moaned and nodded eagerly.

“Fuck, okay”

He wasted no time guiding his cock between Oscar's lips and rocked his hips gently.

The three of them got into a rhythm. Carlos slamming his hips into Oscar, pushing him onto Lando's cock and gagging around it, saliva dripping down his chin, eyes rolling back in pleasure as Carlos nailed his prostate on every thrust.

Lando and Carlos leaned over Oscar and started making out sloppily.

You were almost overwhelmed by what you were seeing, and you slipped away to make your way over to your suitcase.

You quickly found what you were looking for: a dildo and a bullet vibrator.

Climbing back onto the bed, you positioned yourself over the dildo and sank down on it.

You picked up the vibrator and swirled it around where your lips were stretched around the silicone, then pressed it straight on your clit.

You let out a wanton moan at the sudden onslaught of pleasure and the noise attracted the attention of Lando and Carlos.

The two men gasped at the sight of you rocking back and forth on the dildo, pleasuring yourself to the sight of them ruining Oscar.

Carlos’ hips suddenly stuttered and he came with a groan, deep inside Oscar's tight heat.

The younger man sobbed as Carlos gently pulled his softening cock out.

“No please ! I need it, please…”

He was completely out of it, visibly distraught by the feeling of being suddenly empty without having come yet.

Lando pulled out of his mouth and took mercy on him, taking Carlos' place and fucking into him hard and fast, not being far off his own orgasm.

He grabbed a hold of Oscar's hair, arching his back and making him look straight at you.

“Fuck, Oscar. Who knew you could be such a good boy for us? Look at how it's turning her on so much she can't help pleasuring herself at the sight of you getting fucked”

Oscar reached a hand out for you and you took it.

“Gonna cum” he panted and you put your fingers in his mouth giving him something to suck on.

“Come for us baby, good boy, there you go...”

That was it for Oscar as he wailed around your fingers and painted the sheets white with his cum.

He tightened around Lando and the older man came inside him as well, filling him to the brim and adding to Carlos' cum that had since started leaking out.

You came not long after, moans muffled by Carlos' lips on yours.

Once you'd all come down a bit, Oscar laughed breathlessly and looked at you.

“I didn't know I had that in me, I've never come so hard in my life”

You giggled and stroked his cheek.

The bed was a mess of sweat, cum, and splayed out limbs. But there was nowhere you'd rather be.

They were your boys, and now, there were many, many more things to explore with them.

[vamptizm]

v. MISSION JEALOUSY — p.bueckers

pairing: paige bueckers x clover amar (oc)

synopsis: in which paige bueckers and clover amar, two uconn wbb stars, have an ongoing mission of making each other jealous and outdoing the other.

warnings: angst. smut, cunnilingus (p receiving), scissoring, praise, bottom!paige i think?. kinda toxic!oc. no aftercare. basically porn with plot. do not read if this makes you uncomfortable.

word count: 8.2k (longest shit i’ve ever written)

note: u can definitely tell that i’m not used to writing smut at all and that my literacy disappears when i try… anyway lmk if u wanna be added to the nonexistent taglist. like, comment below and subscribe and share this video with ur friends!

series masterlist

The faint hum of the refrigerator filled the quiet kitchen as Clover stood at the counter, her back to the doorway. She moved languidly, her curly hair loosely tied up, wearing an oversized hoodie that hung off one shoulder and a pair of shorts. A bowl of cereal sat in front of her, spoon in hand, as she focused on eating, ignoring the world around her.

Paige shuffled into the room moments later, her blonde hair a disheveled mess, eyes still half-closed from sleep. She was wearing a loose white T-shirt and grey sweatpants, her bare feet making soft thuds against the tiled floor. She yawned as she made her way to the bathroom, rubbing at her face groggily.

When she returned, her attention fell immediately on Clover, who hadn't so much as turned her head in acknowledgment. Paige froze for a moment, her hand still on the bathroom door handle. ‘Really? Back to this already?’

The frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface since the night before bubbled up again. She thought the tension between them had eased after the game, but clearly, Clover wasn't on the same page.

Paige tried to mask her irritation, playing it cool as she strolled to the kitchen counter. Her tone was casual as she muttered, "Morning."

To her surprise, Clover responded immediately. "Morning," she said, her voice calm and unbothered, her focus still on her cereal.

Paige blinked, momentarily thrown off. There was no sarcasm, no venom—just a steady, neutral reply. It only confused her more.

But then, an image from the night before popped into Paige's head: the blonde waitress standing in the bleachers, holding up that ridiculous sign. The girl's smug face flashed vividly in her mind, reigniting the irritation she'd been trying to push down.

"Your girl looked real proud of herself at the game last night," Paige said, her voice laced with a hint of pettiness. She leaned against the counter, folding her arms. "You two dating or something?"

Clover paused mid-bite, her spoon poised in front of her lips. Slowly, she looked up, finally meeting Paige's gaze. Her expression was unreadable as she chewed and swallowed her cereal before replying, her voice flat.

"Why don't you focus on your game instead of my love life? Maybe then we wouldn't have almost lost."

The words hit Paige like a slap. Her mouth opened slightly in disbelief before she quickly snapped it shut. "Excuse me?" she retorted, straightening up. "If I remember right, you missed that wide-open three in the first quarter."

Clover smirked faintly, clearly unimpressed by Paige's attempt to shift the blame. "And yet we still won, didn't we? You're welcome, by the way," she shot back, her voice light and almost teasing.

Paige bristled. "Oh, don't act like you carried us. You—"

"Paige," Clover interrupted, her tone sharper now, though her expression remained maddeningly calm. "You played like a shitty teammate yesterday. I know that, the team and coach know it, and so do you, so let's stop the theatrics, 'kay?"

Paige clenched her jaw, struggling to come up with a rebuttal that wouldn't immediately backfire. She knew Clover was right, of course she was. The brunette, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease, casually taking another spoonful of cereal.

But then Paige decided to double down, the memory of that waitress gnawing at her. "Or maybe you were too focused on your lover and I didn't trust you with the ball."

"Oh, my lover?" Clover mocked with a scoff, tilting her head slightly. "Why? Jealous?"

Paige scoffed, her cheeks burning. "Hardly. Just curious, that's all."

"Mhm," Clover hummed, leaning her hip against the counter as she turned fully toward Paige. Her smile widened slightly, teasing and sharp. "You sure? 'Cause you've been awfully focused on who's in my bed lately."

Paige stiffened, the words hitting harder than she wanted to admit. "I'm not—"

"Oh, you're not?" Clover interrupted smoothly, her eyes twinkling with mock sympathy. She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping an octave. "Then why do you sound so bothered, Paige? Why do you care so much?"

"I don't care," Paige shook her head lightly, her voice trying to imitate nonchalance.

"Could've fooled me," Clover replied with a soft laugh, her calm demeanor only fueling Paige's internal frustration.

She sighed dramatically, setting her spoon down with a clink. She turned fully to face Paige now, hands resting on the counter behind her, grinning and shaking her head as if to taunt the blonde. "You're so obsessed with me, aren't you?"

Paige scoffed with furrowed brows, her face almost flushing. "What? No, what—"

Before she could finish, Clover closed the distance between them in one swift movement, her hands landing firmly on Paige's hips as she backed her into the counter. Paige's breath hitched, her words dying in her throat.

Clover's gaze was steady, unapologetically taking her time as her eyes roamed over Paige, from her messy blonde hair to her hardened nipples under the thin shirt and sweatpants hanging low on her hips. The scrutiny was deliberate, almost predatory, and Paige found herself frozen under its weight.

"You've got a lot of opinions on who I fuck and don't, for someone who isn't obsessed with me." Clover said, her voice low and smooth, a stark contrast to the usual lightness it carried.

Paige swallowed hard, her heart thudding in her chest. She wanted to say something—anything—but the words wouldn't come.

Clover's eyes lingered for a moment longer before she stepped back, releasing Paige as abruptly as she had grabbed her. "Eat something," she said over her shoulder as she returned to her cereal. "Maybe it'll help with whatever's got you so worked up."

Paige stood there, rooted to the spot, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. Her mind raced, trying to process what had just happened, but all she could focus on was the lingering heat of Clover's touch and the smug smirk that played on her lips as she turned away.

The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV, an episode of Grey's Anatomy playing in the background as Paige reclined on the couch. She was in her usual position—legs spread lazily, an arm slung over the backrest. Her attention wasn't entirely on the show, though. It never was when Clover was around. 

Paige glanced up briefly as the sound of light footsteps approached, only for her gaze to lock on Clover's figure. The smaller girl sauntered into the space with her usual effortless confidence, her short denim skirt swaying slightly with each step. A cropped jersey hugged her frame, exposing just enough of her toned midriff and shoulder as it hung off to catch Paige's undivided attention.

Clover didn't acknowledge her at first. Instead, she made a beeline for the coffee table, where a set of keys rested. Paige's jaw tensed as Clover stepped directly in front of her, purposely blocking her view of the TV. 

"Seriously?" Paige muttered, her tone low but not nearly annoyed enough to match her words. 

Clover didn't respond. She leaned over just enough to grab her keys, giving Paige an unimpeded view of her outfit—gold necklaces catching the light, a delicate waist chain glinting against her skin. Paige's eyes traveled down Clover's figure shamelessly, lingering on her exposed legs before snapping back up. She swallowed hard, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. 

For a second, Paige considered telling her to move, the words forming instinctively in her throat. But that would mean Clover might actually leave, and she wasn't ready for that just yet. 

Clover straightened, her glossy lips curved into the faintest grin as she turned her head slightly, catching Paige's eyes for just a moment. "Problem?" she asked innocently, though her tone betrayed that she knew exactly what she was doing. 

Paige's mouth opened, but no words came out. She could feel heat creeping up the back of her neck, her usual composure faltering under Clover's playful gaze. 

Satisfied, Clover didn't wait for a response. She tossed her keys in the air once before catching them and pivoted on her heel, heading for the door. The sound of her shoes echoed in the room, and Paige let her eyes wander one last time as Clover's hips swayed with every step. 

The door shut softly behind her, and the silence that followed was deafening. Paige released a long, frustrated sigh, running a hand through her hair. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her head dipping as if she could somehow shake off the tension. 

And yet, despite her irritation, she couldn't stop the small, almost involuntary smile that tugged at the corner of her lips. 

Paige couldn't stop thinking about her. No matter what she did—watching TV, scrolling mindlessly through her phone, even lying back and closing her eyes—Clover's image refused to leave her mind. It was maddening, like waking from a dream so vivid, so achingly perfect, that you'd do anything to slip back into it. 

Her thoughts were relentless, circling back to the girl over and over again. The way Clover looked when she was mad, her jaw set, eyes blazing with defiance. The way her hands had gripped Paige's collar the night prior, pulling her close enough to feel the warmth of her breath. Paige could still hear her voice, sharp and taunting, her words always laced with an angry edge that sent a shiver down her spine. 

And this morning? That was the worst of it. Clover had practically burned herself into Paige's memory. The teasing sway of her hips, the flash of her waist chain catching the light, the smug little smirk she threw over her shoulder as if she knew exactly what she was doing to Paige. 

But the moment that haunted Paige the most, the one she couldn't shake no matter how hard she tried, was in the kitchen. Clover's hands on her hips, her grip firm, her body pressing close—too close—until Paige was caged against the counter. Her eyes had roamed Paige's body unapologetically, hunger blazing in them like an open flame. Paige had felt her breath hitch then, her pulse pounding in her ears, and the memory alone was enough to make her throat go dry now. 

It was all too much. The twisting heat in her stomach, the ache that gnawed at her with each passing second, was impossible to ignore. She clenched her fists, trying to steady her breathing, but the tension coiled tighter instead of easing. 

Finally, Paige gave in. With a sharp exhale, she reached for the remote and switched off the TV. The sudden quiet in the living room only seemed to amplify the storm raging in her mind. She stood abruptly, her legs moving on autopilot as she strode to her room. 

The door shut with a soft click behind her, but the sound felt deafening in the empty apartment. None of her roommates were home—not Clover, at least. Paige checked the time, knowing she had hours before anyone returned. 

But even as she stood in the middle of her room, hands braced on her hips, she couldn't escape the fire Clover had lit within her. It burned hot, consuming, leaving Paige feeling restless and craving something she knew she shouldn't want. Something she couldn't stop wanting. 

That's how Paige ended up laying on her bed, music playing in the background and her hand slid down the waistband of her sweatpants and boxers. It was to no surprise to the blonde, that she had already been soaked before she could even do anything. Her fingers rubbed slow circles, almost teasing herself with the chosen tempo. Images of Clover flashed her mind, her name escaping the blonde's lips like a mantra. It's not as if she didn't try to think of something, or someone else. She really did, but Clover's face, voice and body stuck. The sounds she'd made the last time Paige got to see her like that. Lips swollen, collarbones glistening and eyes dazed and cloudy. All of it drove her insane, her heart beating faster.

Her movements picked up in pace, soft and quiet whimpers and moans turning louder the more her pleasure built up. Biting her bottom lip did near to nothing to help her hold the noises back.

The music that continued to play in the background was loud enough to drown out the sound of the front door opening and clicking shut again, but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the sinful sounds seeping through from behind Paige's door. Clover only stood there, her weight leaned against the wall next to the girl's room door and her arms crossed. A smirk played on her lips, tongue poking against the inside of her cheek.

The debate that unfolded in her head was a tough one. Should she just go to her own room and pretend as if she hadn't heard anything, or should she open that door and give the Paige exactly what she seemed to need.

"Fuck, Clo." Paige's whiny voice rang through her ears, and the way her nickname sounded coming from her was enough to make the brunette crack.

Her hand reached out for the handle, the metal cold under her skin as she pushed it down, the door opening with a soft click. One that Paige seemed to miss, because when Clover slowly and quietly stepped in, her eyes were still closed, hand still down her pants and soft whimpers still coming out of her.

Paige was still unaware of the company. She was too caught up in the moment, her hand stilling abruptly only when the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat cut through the quiet room. Her head snapped toward the doorway, wide eyes meeting Clover's figure leaning casually against the frame.

Arms crossed over her chest, Clover wore an expression of pure amusement, a smirk tugging at her lips. The heat was rising to her neck and face, but she'd rarely been the type to visibly flush pink. Her dark eyes glimmered with something Paige couldn't quite decipher—teasing, yes, but there was something else, something that made the blonde's stomach flip in a way she wasn't prepared for.

Paige's hand darted out from under the waistband of her pants as if she'd been burned, her cheeks flushing a deep red. "Fuck—I didn't think anyone would be home yet," she stammered, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. She refused to meet Clover's gaze, as though her embarrassment might subside if she avoided the intensity of the brunette's attention.

Clover only shrugged, entirely unfazed. "One of my classes got canceled," she explained nonchalantly, pushing herself off the doorframe and taking a slow step into the room. "Lucky me, huh?"

The teasing lilt in her voice made Paige's heart race even faster, and the silence that followed was deafening. Clover let it stretch just long enough to make Paige squirm, her gaze unrelenting as it roamed over the blonde with unapologetic curiosity.

And then Clover spoke again, her tone shifting—low, sultry, and taunting. "Do you need help with that?"

Paige froze, her breath hitching as the words registered. Her thoughts scrambled, a million excuses and denials flashing through her mind, but none of them stuck. Instead, her body betrayed her, and before she could stop herself, she nodded. Quick, almost desperate, the motion came faster than she intended.

Clover's smirk widened, satisfaction dripping from the curve of her lips as she closed the distance between them. The door clicked softly shut behind her, the sound sending a shiver down Paige's spine.

Paige's pulse thrummed wildly as Clover reached the bed, the brunette's movements deliberate and unhurried. Paige's breath caught when Clover swung a leg over her, settling into her lap with effortless confidence.

Paige's back pressed deeper into the mattress as Clover leaned in, their faces just inches apart. Clover's fingers trailed along Paige's arm, featherlight, teasing, and when Paige finally met her gaze, she found herself drowning in the intensity of those dark, hungry eyes.

"You should've locked the door," Clover murmured, her voice barely above a whisper but no less commanding. "Not that I'm complaining."

Paige swallowed hard, her breath shallow and uneven. She wasn't sure if it was the weight of Clover on her lap or the brunette's piercing gaze that had her feeling so unmoored. Or maybe, it was her skirt riding up just enough to give the blonde a small peek of the color of her panties. Either way, the heat blooming beneath her skin was undeniable.

"I didn't think anyone would walk in," Paige muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clover's smirk didn't falter; if anything, it deepened. "Or maybe that's exactly what you wanted." Her fingers brushed against Paige's shoulder now, a featherlight touch that sent shivers racing down her spine.

Paige shifted beneath her, unsure if she was trying to pull away or lean into the touch. Clover didn't move, her composure steady and commanding, like she was in complete control of the situation—and maybe she was.

"You're so quiet now," Clover mused, her voice soft but teasing. "Not so bold when you're not in charge, huh?"

Paige's cheeks flushed deeper, a color Clover clearly noticed because she let out a quiet chuckle—low and knowing. "Relax," she murmured, leaning in just enough for Paige to feel the brush of her breath against her ear. " 'M not gonna bite... unless you want me to."

The words sent a jolt through Paige, and she turned her head, finally meeting Clover's eyes again. There was something playful in the brunette's expression, but beneath it, an intensity Paige couldn't ignore.

"Clover," Paige started, but her voice cracked, betraying her attempt at calmness.

"Hmm?" Clover tilted her head, feigning innocence.

Paige's hands fidgeted at her sides, clenching and unclenching as if trying to anchor herself. "I don't... I don't think this is a good idea," she managed to say, though the words came out uneven.

Clover leaned back slightly, her expression unreadable for a moment. "And why's that?" she asked, her tone softer now, less teasing but no less curious. Attentive.

Paige opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Her thoughts were too tangled—caught somewhere between the electrifying tension of the moment and the gnawing doubt in the back of her mind. She couldn't look away, though, not when Clover was this close, her dark eyes searching Paige's face with such quiet confidence.

“Thought so.”

After a long pause, Clover spoke again, her voice gentle. "If you want me to stop, just say the words."

The sincerity in her tone startled Paige. For all her teasing and playful bravado, Clover wasn't pushing—she was offering a way out. Paige's chest tightened, and for a fleeting moment, she thought about taking it. But instead, she shook her head, the movement small and hesitant but clear.

Clover's smirk returned, softer this time, and she leaned back in closer. "Good," she whispered, her hands settling lightly on Paige's shoulders. " 'Cause I wasn't ready to leave anyway."

She straightened, her dark eyes never leaving Paige’s flushed face as her hands slowly slid down the blonde’s arms. Her fingers moved with purpose, tracing the soft curve of muscle and bone, lingering just long enough to leave a faint, electric trail in their wake. When she reached the hem of Paige’s shirt, she paused, her fingers toying with the fabric as though testing the weight of the moment.

Her gaze flicked up, brown eyes locking onto blue. There was no rush, no demand—just a silent question, one that Clover didn’t need to voice. Paige swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling unevenly, before giving a small, almost imperceptible nod. That was all Clover needed.

In one fluid motion, Clover pushed the shirt up, the fabric gathering as it rose along Paige’s torso. Paige arched her back slightly, her shoulders lifting from the mattress to help, and the shirt slipped off with ease, leaving her pale torso and chest bare under Clover’s attentive gaze.

For a moment, Clover stilled, taking her time as her eyes swept over Paige’s form. Every mole, every curve, every shadow and line of her body seemed to command her attention. It wasn’t just a glance—it was as though she was memorizing her, committing her to the deepest recesses of her mind.

The words that rose in Clover’s throat felt too raw, too close to the parts of herself she usually kept hidden. She swallowed them down, opting instead for the kind of playful charm she always fell back on.

“You’re so fucking hot.” Clover’s lips curved into a grin, her tongue darting out to swipe along the edge of her teeth as she spoke. The compliment was delivered casually, almost cheekily, but the fire in her gaze betrayed the depth of her admiration.

Her hands moved again, this time trailing upward. Her palms came to rest softly on Paige’s chest, her touch firm but not overbearing. She gave a gentle squeeze, her thumbs brushing lightly against smooth skin. Paige’s breath hitched audibly, and her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth as she fought to contain the small sounds threatening to escape her.

Clover leaned in closer, her knees shifting against the mattress to position herself more comfortably. She was hovering now, her body poised above Paige’s, one hand planted beside the blonde’s head for balance. The other hand slid to her waist, her grip light but grounding.

Her lips found Paige’s shoulder first, the kiss soft but deliberate, her breath warm against her skin. Slowly, Clover began her descent, her mouth tracing a line down Paige’s collarbone, lingering in places just long enough to leave a faint sting of warmth in her wake. Paige’s breathing grew shallow, uneven, and Clover could feel the tremor beneath her lips as they moved lower.

Each kiss was unhurried, as though Clover was savoring every inch of Paige’s skin. Her own breathing grew heavier as she moved, the tension between them palpable in the charged silence of the room. Every soft sound Paige made—every faint sigh, every quiet intake of breath—spurred Clover on, her lips trailing lower, igniting a fire that neither of them seemed inclined to extinguish.

Clover's lips paused just above Paige's ribs, her

breath brushing against the sensitive skin. She glanced up, her dark eyes catching the blonde's, searching for any hint of hesitation. Paige's flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips were all the confirmation Clover needed. 

With calculated slowness, Clover shifted her weight, her free hand sliding down Paige's side. Her fingertips danced along the curve of her waist before finding her hip, her grip tightening just enough to ground them both. She pressed a lingering kiss just below Paige's ribcage, her lips curving into a faint smirk as she heard the faint, shaky exhale it elicited. 

"You're holding your breath," Clover teased, her voice low and teasing as she lifted her head slightly, her lips brushing against Paige's skin as she spoke. "Relax for me, Blondie." 

Paige's cheeks darkened further, her hands nervously fidgeting with the blanket beneath her. "Easy for you to say," she muttered, her voice soft but laced with a nervous laugh. "You're not the one being—" 

"Admired?" Clover finished for her, arching a brow. She grinned, her lips trailing back upward until they hovered near Paige's ear. "Trust me, you've got nothing to be nervous about." 

The words were meant to be reassuring, but they carried a weight that made Paige's breath catch for the umpteenth time. Clover's tone was light, but her gaze was anything but—it was heavy, intense, and filled with an undeniable hunger. 

Clover straightened slightly, her hand moving from Paige's waist to her jaw, gently tilting her face upward. "Tell me if you want me to stop," she murmured, her thumb brushing over the curve of Paige's cheek. 

Paige shook her head quickly, her blonde hair splaying across the pillow as her voice came out in a quiet, trembling whisper. "Don't stop." 

Clover's grin softened into something almost tender as she leaned down, their faces mere inches apart. "I won’t," she reassured, her breath warm against Paige's lips. 

This time, when Clover kissed her, it wasn't teasing or lighthearted—it was slow, deep, and deliberate. The world seemed to melt away as their lips moved together, the kiss carrying all the heat and intensity that had been building between them. Paige's hands instinctively moved to Clover's back, her fingers gripping the fabric of her shirt as though she needed something to anchor herself. 

Clover's hand slid from Paige's jaw to her neck, her touch firm but gentle as she deepened the kiss. Time seemed to blur, each second stretching into eternity as they lost themselves in each other. The only sounds were the faint rustle of the bedspread, their uneven breathing, and the quiet hum of tension that filled the room. 

When they finally pulled apart, Clover rested her forehead against Paige's, her dark eyes searching the blue ones beneath her. Neither of them spoke for a moment, their breaths mingling as they tried to steady themselves. 

Clover's lips continued their path, slow and intentional, leaving another warm, tingling trail as they ventured lower. She savored the way Paige shivered under her touch, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. Clover's fingers curled just beneath the waistband of Paige's sweatpants.

She paused, her lips hovering just above Paige's navel as her knuckles brushed up and down the smooth, pale skin at her waist. What had her captivated was the way Paige's body responded to her every move—the slight arch of her back, the soft gasp when Clover's knuckles ghosted over her skin.

She tugged slightly, just enough to tease, her touch grazing lower. Paige's breathing was uneven as Clover pressed another kiss to her hipbone, leaving her teetering on the edge of anticipation. She felt like her body was being lit on fire, almost as if somebody had entirely doused her in gasoline, Clover's touch and lips against her skin being the lit match igniting the fire.

"Been wanting to eat this pussy for a while," she murmured, and with that, she eased the fabric down, taking her time, savoring every inch of Paige's bare skin as it was revealed, who was practically almost kicking her pants and boxers off.

There she was, in all of her glory for the brunette to admire and take in. The world outside the room disappeared entirely, leaving only the quiet rustle of fabric and the sound of the blonde's uneven breaths filling the air.

For once, Clover didn't waste any more time, her body shuffling down enough to where she was facing the girl's dripping cunt. Her hands gripped Paige's left thigh, swiftly swinging it over her shoulder for better access. She had to take a deep, subtle breath— filling her lungs with desperately needed oxygen as she took in the sight.

Clover’s lips followed suit, pressing soft, deliberate kisses to the inside of one thigh, and then the other. Her movements were unhurried, almost reverent, as though she had all the time in the world and no intention of rushing something so intimate. Each kiss was a silent promise, a wordless expression of affection and desire, and it made Paige’s head spin like it never had before.

It wasn’t just the touch—it was the care, the attention, the way Clover’s every action seemed to whisper that Paige was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

And for Paige, that feeling was almost overwhelming. It was foreign, like a language she had never bothered to learn.

"Wanna taste you," The brunette whispered, her voice thick with desire as she looked up at the blonde.  "It's only fair you let me return the favour." She wanted to make Paige feel good, to make her scream her name. Wanted to give her pleasure like she had never experienced before.

Paige could feel herself getting lost in Clover's chocolate brown irises, in real time speed, hyper aware of everything about the girl. Her eyes, her warm breath against where Paige needed her most, her somewhat rough and veiny hands from playing so much basketball stroking her skin. It all felt heavenly and she was sure that she never wanted this to end as she only nodded her head in response, not trusting her own voice.

That was all it took for Clover to delve in, her tongue flatly licking a long stripe up her folds. The small, airy moan that followed was like music to her ears, only encouraging her to keep going. Clover couldn't help but press a few open mouthed kisses before going back to working her tongue against Paige. The taste was heavenly— near to intoxicating.

It wasn't the first time that Paige had somebody go down on her, not even the fifth or tenth, but for some reason, this time it felt completely different from all the other times. As if Clover was doing it for her own pleasure, perhaps enjoying it more than the blonde herself.

Paige's hand landed on the back of the girl's head, subconsciously pushing her face further down, and luckily Clover wanted nothing more than to be impossibly close to her core.

She felt like she was being burned alive. She propped herself up on her elbows, determined to look down at Clover while the girl continued to messily lick and suckle

"Fuck, Ma. Doing so good." Paige couldn't stop herself from praising the brunette's efforts, a satisfied grin on her lips while her hand reached back down to brush a stray strand of her hair back.

Clover grinned at the praise, her tongue working more urgently, her hands gripping Paige's hips, holding her close. She could feel her arousal growing, body responding to Clover's touch. She increased the pressure of her tongue, repeatedly flicking it against the girl's clit, her hand snaking up to cup Paige's tits, thumb teasing her hardened nipple.

Her soft moans filled the room, and Clover could feel her body trembling beneath her. She continued her ministrations, determined to make this the best experience, sloppily shaking her head from side to side like a starved man, lapping up everything Paige was offering. Gluttony adorned Clover as she wanted to consume her entirely. "You sound so fucking pretty. Anyone ever tell you that?" She pulled away briefly to speak.

Despite all of it— the sin, the unholy sounds and actions, Paige could still feel her face flush pink, somehow growing shy at the unexpected praise. Her heart thudded in her chest as she shook her head, her grip tight on the now messed up bedsheets.

Clover halted, raising a brow in surprise. How could no one have told her that before, when she sounded as soft and angelic as an angel? The complete opposite of her public image. "Shame. We both know that no one can make you feel like I do. They're too selfish to touch you like I do." Clover mumbled against her sopping cunt, causing another whine to escape her at the words.

Paige continued to watch Clover, the sight of the girl in between her legs, feverishly licking and sucking on her cunt was almost as pleasurable as the feeling itself. By this point, Paige was a whiny and whimpery mess, Clover's name leaving her lips like a memorized prayer, her hands uncontrollably pushing the brunette’s head further down.

Paige's other leg had hooked itself over her shoulder, the other hand placing itself over the brunette's hand groping her tits, encouraging her to be as rough as she liked while the girl continued to lap up at her. "Clo, fuck, Baby."

Clover hummed against Paige at the use of her nickname, sending vibrations up her core. Her fingers digging into her hips as she felt her body tense. She loved the taste of her, the sound of her voice, the way her body responded to her touch. Clover increased the pressure and speed of her tongue, her fingers pinching Paige’s nipple harder, grip tightening. She could basically feel Paige's heart pounding, breath coming out in short gasps. Clover wanted to bring her to the edge and then push her over

"That's it, baby," she murmured against Paige’s core, her voice husky with desire. "Cum for me. Make a mess on my face, yeah?" She could feel it, the tension in Paige's body, the way her muscles clenched and released.

There was no denying that Paige was dangerously close, the longer and hungrier Clover continued to eat her out, the tighter the knot inside her tummy got. Clover's words of encouragement and praise only fuelled Paige's pleasure, dragging her closer and closer to the edge. By this point, she had given up on propping herself up, sacrificing the sight of the brunette to stare up at the ceiling. “I’m so close—“

It wasn't long before she felt her climax creeping up on her, until it suddenly hit her like a truck, allowing her to fall and crumble apart against Clover's tongue. The girl's name left Paige's lips over and over, chanting it like a mantra, a chain and series of cuss words escaping her as she came down from her orgasm.

Clover could feel Paige's body tremble as she came, sweet release flooding her mouth and soaking the bottom half of her face. She swallowed, her gaze still focused on the blonde's cunt, a smile spreading across her face.

She pulled back, a string of saliva mixed with arousal connected to her lips and the girl's core before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her body aching with need as she pushed Paige's legs off her shoulders. She sat up, gazing down at the blonde, her chest heaving, breath coming out in short pants.

Clover leaned back, her weight shifting off Paige for a moment as her hands slid to the hem of her own shirt. The golden glow of the setting sun streamed through the window, casting a soft light over her, highlighting every curve and shadow of her form. As she moved, the long gold necklaces around her neck swayed gently, catching the light and adding an almost hypnotic rhythm to her movements. 

She paused, glancing down at Paige with a small, teasing smile. 

Paige was still catching her breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her flushed face was framed by her tousled blonde hair, and her blue eyes remained fixed on Clover, wide and slightly dazed. She looked almost enchanted, like she couldn't believe this was happening, like she didn't want to miss a single second of what came next. 

Clover slowly lifted her shirt, further revealing not just the toned lines of her stomach but the tattoos that adorned her skin. Fine lines drawing a cybersigilistic design that rested just beneath her breasts and along her ribs, curving slightly with her movement. Another intricate design spanned her womb, a soft but striking contrast against her smooth skin. The details were mesmerizing, yet understated. 

The fabric peeled away like the layers of a gift being unwrapped, and Paige's gaze followed the movement, her lips parting as her breath hitched again. 

"Enjoying the view?" Clover teased softly, her voice low and playful as she tugged the shirt over her head and tossed it carelessly to the side. 

Paige swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of pink as she nodded wordlessly. Her eyes flickered between Clover's face, her jewelry, and her newly exposed skin, lingering on the delicate gold waist chain that rested against her hips and the black-lace bra. It seemed to frame her tattoos, drawing attention to the soft lines and curves of her body. 

Clover's smirk softened into something more tender as she reached for the button of her skirt, her fingers working at the closure with practiced ease. She kept her movements slow, calculated, letting Paige's gaze linger. There was something deeply satisfying about the way Paige looked at her, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment. 

"Breathe, Blondie," Clover said with a small laugh, her tone light but warm. 

Paige let out a shaky laugh of her own, exhaling deeply as she ran a hand through her messy hair. "I... I'm breathing," she murmured, though her voice was barely above a whisper. 

Clover's smile grew, a mix of confidence and affection flashing in her dark eyes. "Good job," she praised simply, stepping out of her skirt with the same slow grace. When she straightened up again, her hands on her hips, the sunlight glinted off her necklace and waist chain, her tattoos shifting slightly with ever movement. She took a step closer to the bed, watching as Paige's gaze traveled upward to meet hers. 

"You're beautiful," Paige said suddenly, the words spilling out unfiltered, her voice tinged with awe. 

The comment caught Clover off guard, and for a brief second, the teasing façade cracked, replaced by something raw and genuine. Her lips curved into a softer smile, and she reached out to brush a strand of hair from Paige's face. 

"Thank you," Clover whispered, her voice gentle and sincere. 

For a moment, they just stayed like that, the air between them heavy with a charged silence that felt more intimate than any words or actions. Then Clover climbed back onto the bed, her motions slow and purposeful, as if savoring the closeness they were about to share again.

Clover moved to get on her knees, peeling her panties off and unhooking her bra, before throwing both to the floor, leaving her just as bare and exposed as Paige. She grabbed a pillow next to the girl's head, patting her hips for Paige to lift them so that she could place the pillow under her.

Clover's arm gently lifted Paige's left leg up, eyes hungrily drinking in the sight of the girl's still sopping cunt before hooking that leg over her chest and on her shoulder. Before doing anything else, Clover stroked and caressed Paige's thigh to relax the girl and her muscles.

"Don't know if I can take it. Too sensitive." Paige mumbled quietly.

The brunette only grinned, her eyes cloudy and her voice low. "You can and you will."

It didn't take long for Clover to throw one leg over Paige’s other thigh and lower herself on the blonde under her, their cores finally meeting as electricity sparked all throughout their bodies, a small and satisfied moan leaving the blonde's lips.

"Damn, Baby. You're still soaked." Clover chuckled as she grinded against the girl's cunt, playfully teasing in hopes of helping her relax further and let loose. She didn't want the atmosphere to be serious.

Paige's body arched up into Clover's, her hands gripping her hips. She wanted more, wanted them to be impossibly close. To melt into one.

The brunette let her head fall back, eyes fluttering shut as she began to grind against Paige, the sensation and pleasure sending shivers down her spine. She let out a soft, needy moan, her body responding to Paige's touch, whose hands were still firmly clasping her hips. "I'm supposed to be doing the work."

"Can't have that, Mama." Paige mumbled breathlessly, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth as she guided Clover's hips up and down.

All that could be heard next, was the sound of wet squelching and soft, needy moans and whimpers from both Clover and Paige. The room felt hot and suffocating, the smell of sex filling the air as both of them panting for more oxygen.

"Words, Paige. I need words." Clover demanded firmly, her nails digging into the soft flesh of the blonde's thigh against her chest. "Tell me how I'm making you feel." She continued to rock her hips against Paige's, trying to hold back her own moans as much as possible, but that proved to almost be pointless.

Paige looked absolutely stunning beneath her—straight out of an erotic painting—fucked out face, parted lips and rosy cheeks. Clover couldn't stop herself from placing soft kisses against her thigh, her hand reaching down to intertwine her fingers with Paige's, the other gripping the leg closer to her chest.

Paige let out a strangled moan, her blue eyes meeting Clover's brown, body trembling with need and her heart still thudding in her chest. "You feel so fucking good. Making me feel good." she panted, her voice thick with lust. "So soft ‘nd wet. Can't get enough of you, Ma."

Her hips once again bucked against the brunette's, fingers tightening around Clover’s as they continued to hold hand "Fuck, Clover, please." She whispered, her voice barely a whisper. She could feel her muscles tightening, losing herself in the sanctuary of pleasure, her heart pounding and skin burning

Paige's breath hitched again, her hands instinctively gripping Clover's waist as if grounding herself, her fingertips brushing against the delicate chain wrapped around Clover's hips. The sensation of the cool metal against her heated skin sent another wave of shivers through her body, and she closed her eyes, trying to steady herself. 

"I... I need..." Paige stammered softly, her voice trembling under Clover's knowing gaze. She couldn't quite get the words out, her usual confidence completely shattered, leaving her bare and vulnerable beneath the brunette's smoldering intensity. 

Clover tilted her head, her dark brown eyes locking onto Paige's as her fingers trailed along the side of her neck, sending goosebumps down her spine. "You need what, Baby?" she asked, her voice a whisper of mischief and affection. Her hand traced a slow, deliberate path from Paige's neck to her collarbone, pausing to toy with a loose strand of golden hair before moving lower. 

Paige swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath Clover's steady weight. "I need you," she finally admitted, her voice whiny and barely above a whisper but raw with sincerity. Her hands slid up Clover's back, brushing against the intricate ink curling around her ribs, the warmth of her touch drawing an audible sigh from Clover's lips. “Need to cum so bad.”

Clover's smirk softened into something gentler, more intimate. "Good girl," she murmured, her tone a blend of praise and satisfaction. She dipped her head slightly, her lips brushing against the corner of Paige's mouth, still teasing, still withholding just enough to leave the blonde aching for more. 

Their bodies moved together again, Clover's necklace and waist chain catching the soft light and reflecting delicate patterns onto Paige's flushed skin while dangling over her. Clover's lips hovered just a breath away from Paige's, and the tension between them reached its breaking point. With one last whisper, Clover's voice turned molten. "Whenever you're ready." 

Clover's words hung in the air, each one a soft promise that vibrated through Paige's chest, making her heart race all over again. She could feel the weight of Clover's presence pressing down on her, not just physically but emotionally, as if Clover were holding a piece of her in the palm of her hand.

Paige exhaled slowly, her body still trembling from the tension that Clover had so expertly drawn out of her. There was an intimacy to the moment that felt different from anything she'd known before, a deep connection that swirled in the space between them, weaving tighter with every shared breath. She wanted to say something, to reassure Clover or maybe to find the words to express the overwhelming pull she felt, but her thoughts scattered as Clover's fingers brushed over her waist, sending sparks of warmth where they touched.

The blonde's muscles tensed, her hips bucking against Clover's once more, blunt nails digging into the skin of her hips as she came, her orgasm washing over her in waves, sweeping her away like a sandcastle built near the shore. She cried out Clover's name, her vision blurring as she rode out the orgasm, her body trembling. Paige had almost missed the way Clover was quick to follow along, brought over the edge by the sight of the blonde beneath her.

Clover's chest rose and fell heavily, her breathing uneven as she stayed poised above Paige. For a moment, she felt herself softening, the sight of Paige sprawled beneath her—a mixture of flushed cheeks, mussed blonde hair, and half-lidded blue eyes—making her hesitate. Paige looked so beautiful in her afterglow, so raw and unguarded. A quiet part of Clover wanted to stay, to lean down and press a lingering kiss to her lips, to let herself feel the intimacy of the moment instead of running from it.

But then the memory crept in, uninvited.

It hit Clover like a sharp jab to the chest—the last time they had been in a position similar to this, how Paige had left her without a second glance. Her jaw tightened subtly, and she straightened up, the decision crystallizing in her mind. If Paige could leave her like she didn’t matter, then Clover could do the same.

Her fingers twitched as she quickly sat up, no longer interested in being close. No longer interested in lingering in the warmth of Paige's body. The image of Paige's face—beautiful, bizarrely innocent, but so distant—made her blood boil, and she stood abruptly, pulling herself together before Paige even had a chance to react.

She didn't look back. Didn't wait for the moment to dissolve into some kind of apology or shared understanding. With swift movements, Clover gathered her underwear from the floor, pulling them on with mechanical precision, trying not to focus on the tightness in her chest or the way her hands shook ever so slightly as she dressed.

Paige's voice broke the tension in the room, but Clover didn't even flinch at the confusion in it. The blonde's breathless question cut through the air, but Clover's heart was already somewhere else. Somewhere colder. Somewhere removed.

"Where are you going?" Paige asked, her voice was small, still carrying the traces of what they had just shared.

Clover's gaze flickered over Paige for the briefest of moments—just long enough to see the furrow in her brow, the question in her eyes. She almost felt something—regret, maybe—but it was drowned out by the sting of that memory. She couldn't afford to be soft now. She couldn't afford to care.

"I got a date in less than an hour," Clover said, her voice flat and emotionless, betraying none of the turmoil churning inside of her. She didn't give Paige the courtesy of another glance as she pulled her shirt over her head, the fabric falling into place as if she were shedding some piece of herself along with it.

With a final glance at the room, Clover turned and walked out, each step harder than the last. The door clicked softly behind her, leaving Paige in a stunned silence, her mind racing, her body still warm from the aftermath of what had just happened.

Paige lay there, staring at the ceiling, her chest still rising and falling with the remnants of their shared moment. But instead of the satisfaction she had expected, she also felt hollow. Something in her chest felt empty, as if the pieces of her that had once been tethered to the moment had been pulled away, leaving her exposed and uncertain.

The confusion that filled her just moments before quickly turned to something else—regret, maybe, or perhaps guilt. She hadn't meant to hurt Clover. She hadn't known that leaving that night would leave such a lasting mark, but the coldness that Clover had shown her now... it stung.

As the minutes stretched on in the silence that Clover had left behind, Paige realized something. The distance between them was more than just physical. It was emotional, and it ran deeper than she had thought. She could feel it, that growing gap. Clover had shut down, and Paige had no idea how to bridge the divide that was suddenly so wide and unspoken.

Her breath came shallow and quick, her hands clenching into the sheets as she replayed the last few seconds over and over in her mind. Clover had mentioned a date. A date.

The thought hit her like a bucket of ice water, dousing any lingering haze of satisfaction from her mind. Confusion and guilt twisted in her chest, but it didn’t take long for something sharper to bubble to the surface. Annoyance.

"Really?" Paige muttered to herself, throwing her legs over the side of the bed. She tugged her shirt back over her head with more force than necessary, her jaw tightening. The image of Clover’s nonchalant expression as she casually mentioned going on a date burned into her mind, setting her teeth on edge.

Jealousy twisted its way through her stomach like a knot, coiling tighter with every passing second. She couldn’t help the questions that began racing through her mind. Who was the date with? Someone Clover actually liked? Someone better than her? Was it that same waitress?

The thought made her stomach churn. Clover leaving so abruptly, leaving her this time, stung more than Paige wanted to admit. It left her feeling unmoored, exposed in a way she wasn’t used to.

Paige hated how much it bothered her. And she hated the idea of Clover going to someone else, smiling that same teasing smile, leaving someone else breathless and wanting.

Her scowl deepened, her heart racing in a mix of frustration and something uncomfortably close to longing. She didn’t know if she wanted to pull Clover back or push her further away.

taglist (open) @brenwritesss @bueckersbitch @starlighttsv @ekisokay @st4rrzynight @ohmybueckers

[amoressb]

𐙚 old love

pairings : ex bf!riki x reader ; exs to lovers

synopsis : it has been almost a year since y/n and riki have broken up, though the reason behind it is quite silly. simply stating that you both were on different paths. while on your “different” paths, you both reminisce the times you have spent together, the special moments now turned into memories, but what if your paths werent so different at all? especially since both paths lead you to the same tree where you two shared your first kiss together under the enchanting moonlight.

*w.c - 1.6k

*inspired by my favorite song old love by yuji & putri dahlia !!

* this is a long one so i hope you all enjoy till the very end !!

waking up you already knew it would be a particularly sadder day than the rest, as with each day it draws closer to the day you and your ex boyfriend, nishimura riki, broke up. which would now complete a year. a year without, who you consider, your special someone. a year without your best friend. just a year without him.

this is what you both were afraid of when you both started dating. you both were afraid of that one dreaded day where you two would split, but you guys never thought it would happen. that night you both lost the most important thing in your lives.

in the beginning of the break up it was of course very hard to deal with. yes it was a mutual agreement but you both couldn’t help but feel that it was a mistake. both were too afraid to speak up about how they truly feel after they had already agreed to split and that right there was their true problem. communication. you both became very closed off when it came to communicating youre feelings. you both would simply ask each other what was wrong and if neither said anything, it simply gets brushed off.

throughout the rest of the day it was quite noticeable that your mood was down. your friends came up to you, called and even messaged you asking if you were doing okay, but of course you simply said you were fine. it had been like this ever since the beginning of this month. wake up sadder than yesterday and have people ask you if you were feeling okay and you saying you were fine.

you missed riki very badly as did he. it’s unbelievable how you two have gone this far without getting back in contact. the only thing you can think of is going on a late night walk so you grabbed your jacket and headed out.

since it was quite late, the streets were quiet with the occasional cars passing by and the whistle of the wind. while on the walk you started to remember some memories you had with riki, but there was one memory that you will forever cherish. the day you and riki shared your first kiss.

ʚɞ

you and riki have been dating for 3 months and you guys couldnt be happier. since today marks the third month, riki wanted to take you on a sweet date. he surprised you by taking you to a place where you can paint your own pottery. oh how cute this date was. you both decided to make a matching set together.

“so what should we paint my love?” said riki while looking at you with excitement. “ooo do you wanna make a matching set? i think that would be cute!” you said grabbing onto his hand almost jumping in your seat from excitement. “yeah sure but what?” he scooted his chair closer to yours still holding your hand since he felt so far from you even though he was just inches away. “i found this cute design but lets add something to the bottom so its more personalized!” you show him the image of what you wanted to do.

rikis heart melted looking at the image. “lets add i love you at the bottom but yours will say riki mines will say y/n” he gives his idea hoping youd take it. “aww that so cute yes lets do it!” you give him a quick kiss on the cheek and started to get you guys stuff ready. rikis was still stuck on the kiss he received on the cheek. even though youve done it a million times, your lips on him would always spread such warmth through him. he couldnt get enough of you truly.

riki had already finished his cup but you were still at it. this gave riki time to really take in your presence and beauty. he adored the face you make when youre concentrated, getting all serious making sure your details came out perfectly. the way some strands of you hair tends to slowly fall in front of you which allows him to draw himself closer to you and brush it away to see more of your beauty. what he loved most was your eyes. the way your eyes always had this beautiful shine to them no matter what. he fell in love with how your eyes shine brighter than before whenever you look at him because thats the exact way he looks at you, with such love and adoration.

you both completed your art and left with your new mugs. the rest of the day was spent going into some stores buying some cute matching things then ultimately a little cafe. after the cafe it was already dark so to end off the night, you and riki decided to go on a simple walk in the park talking about how your day went.

"i really enjoyed our date kiki, i cant wait to use my mug and all these cute new matching stuff we have now!" you say with a little giggle. oh how he loved your little giggle and your laugh all around. simply just you in general is what he loved so much. "me too and i cant wait to go on many more with you my love" he smiles softly at you.

coming up under a tree, you stare at the moon in awe, “its so beautiful kiki” you continue to look up unaware of rikis gaze on you. “yeah it really is beautiful” he says while you turn to catch his enchanted gaze at you. “y/n..i love you more than anything in this world. youre so beautiful and you always know how to light up someones day even with just that pretty smile of yours and you truly mean the world to me.” as riki says this you cant help but only be able to utter the words “i love you-” before you can finish, you feel his soft lips on yours. it felt like fireworks went off as soon as it happened. you never wanted this moment to end and neither did he. as you two pulled apart you two simply giggle sweetly and rest your foreheads against each others staring at each other with nothing but love.

ʚɞ

its almost like you and riki were still connected somehow because he too was also doing the exact same thing as you. he too was feeling the same as you, sadder than before thinking about how hes been away from you for almost a year. he too decided to take a late night walk and started to reminisce all the times hes been with you, the memories he holds so dear to his heart. especially that one.

i also say you two are still connected because those oh so “different paths” unconsciously lead you both to the exact same place you shared that special moment. you both look up at each other, stunned youre both here right now. slowly you two inched your way closer to each other, now standing right in the same special spot.

you both say hi at the same time which makes you two let out a small chuckle. “so..how have you been?” you asked and right there riki broke. he had to tell you how he was truly feeling, the feeling of utter loneliness. the feeling of that there was something missing from his life and it was you. you were everything he needed and he wanted no he needed you back. “can i be honest with you?” he asked sincerely. “yeah you know you can always be honest with me kiki.” oh that sweet nickname you gave him always made him feel so warm inside. it made him feel so special since it was only you who called him that and he loved it so much.

“well then in all honesty i havent been feeling good recently as it draws closer to one year of us being apart. i dont know how or why i havent reached out to you, i miss you so much. i feel as a whole part of me is missing. youre my missing piece y/n. on the walk here you were all i thought of, all those beautiful memories we have had. heck i still use our matching mug that we made and have all our matching things with me always” he states as he brings up his shirt a bit to reveal his keys attached to his pants with the matching keychains you bought as well as the matching ring you two had bought on his finger. seeing that you brought out your keychain and showed your ring too. you two never did let go of each other.

at the sight of this, you and riki both started to tear up. “please baby, i dont want to be away from you anymore” riki stated as a tear started to fall. you got closer and reached your hand up to his cheek to wipe away his tear smiling softly. “me neither kiki” and with that you slowly leaned in to give him a soft yet passionate kiss to his lips and with a quick yet gentle motion he wraps his hands around your waist to pull you in closer to him. oh how he missed you being this close. eventually you pull away much to you and rikis dismay, “will you be mine again? forever this time?” riki asks with a smile, bringing up one hand to softly stroke your cheek. “yes of course. i love you so much kiki” she smiles. “i love you so much more” he says leaning in for another sweet kiss.

even on “different paths” you and riki found a way back into each others arms and what better place to find each other again than where it all truly began.

* if you made it to the end thank you and i hope you liked it ilya !!

[itsthewritergal]

Just let me go - Bucky Barnes x reader

Okay this one is ANGSTTYYY Also there will be a part two! Posted tomorrow :)

TW: kidnapping, swearing, suicidal thoughts, guns, angst, sadness, suicidal ideation, also I haven't proof read this aha I'm sorry!!

“Sergeant Barnes, there is someone here to see you” One of the agent said as they stepped into the training room, 

“Who?” Bucky replied curtly, being halfway through a session with Nat he didn’t exactly want to be interrupted no matter who it was 

“I don’t know but she looks upset, if I was you I’d be worried” the agent said with a laugh, making a few of the other trainee’s laugh 

“Don’t forget your rank” Bucky said bluntly, 

“Sorry Sargent Barnes” The agent said, 

“You can start sparring, I’ll be back soon and I expect to see some improvements from yesterday” Nat said following Bucky out the room, 

“Who do you think it is?” Nat asked 

“I don’t know” Bucky said 

“What about that girl you went out with the other night?” 

“I don’t think she’d come here” Bucky said with a huff, “she didn’t like me” he said 

“Ooh what about the girl from Tony’s party?” Nat suggested, it sounded as though the idea of Bucky having a girl round was entertaining to her, Bucky narrowed his eyes at Nat, 

“No” He said bluntly, 

“Tensions killing me” Nat said with a dry laugh 

“Come on Nat, leave it alone” he said, turning the corner to the common room, he stopped immediately his breath hitching in his throat for a split second, 

“Y/N?” Nat beamed running over to give her a hug almost knocking her off of her feet “It’s been like a year since I saw you!” She grinned, 

“Hey Nat” She said gently, 

“You have to stay for dinner, Wanda’s cooking, she’ll want to see you. So will Steve, and Tony, oh and Sam!” She said “I’ll text them all now, they’ll set up a place for you” 

“Nat, I don’t think—” Y/N started 

“I don’t want to hear it, you’re staying” She said pulling out her phone and quickly tapping a message, 

“Y/N” Bucky said bluntly, his voice void of all emotions. 

“Hey” Y/N cut herself off unsure of what to call him so deciding against calling him anything,  her eyes wandered to his arm,  “the black and gold suits you” She said softly “Always said silver wasn’t your colour” 

“Shuri agreed with you” Bucky nodded

An uncomfortable silence settled across the two of them, 

“I should go” She said quickly, 

“Why did you come?” He asked a part of him not wanting her to disappear, not again 

“I, uh I found, I found this”  Y/N said her cheeks flushing red as she passed Bucky a t-shirt, one that he had forgotten about, but it certainly looked more worn now than how he remembered it. His heart squeezed at the thought of her wearing it after everything

“This is why you came?” Bucky said 

“You’re right, it was stupid. I’m gonna go” Y/N said quickly,  shaking her head as she turned, Bucky knew how she felt. He had imaged many times making an excuse to go and see her, he just didn’t think she was the kind of person to go through with it. 

“Y/N! Oh my, Nat said you were here. I’ve just laid the table dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes which is just long enough for you to catch me up on your life! Sorry Buck, but she’s with me until dinner. Then you can have her back” Wanda said not offering Bucky or Y/N a second option. 

----

“So Y/N where have you been?” Tony asked as they all sat down at the table “it’s like you dropped off the face of the earth

“Just around,” She said quietly 

“I came by your apartment, but it was empty” Tony said, 

“I had to move out” 

“You moved out?” Nat said “How come?” She said worry filling her voice 

“Life happens” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Bucky’s eyes fell on her face, watching how her eyes studied her plate not daring to look up 

“Well things always find a way of getting better” Wanda said squeezing Y/N’s hand on the top of the table 

“How about you guys, I’ve seen good things on the news” Y/N said softly 

“We’re okay” Steve said, 

“I”m pleased,” Y/N said with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes, 

“What’s your new apartment like?” Wanda asked, 

“It’s nice” Y/N said gently , 

“You should give me the address,” Tony said commandingly 

“I’ll send it over to you, I still don’t quite know it off by heart” She said, it was a lie. Bucky knew it was a lie, even if he couldn’t hear her heartbeat pick up, he would be able to tell from the way she couldn’t look at anyone in their eye. 

“What part of town is it?” Steve pressed, 

“I really appreciate you guys having me for dinner but I’m going to head home” She said quickly, “I’ll see you guys around” She said picking up her coat, 

“I'm sorry if I said something wrong” Steve apologised quickly, he should’ve known better than to press her, Bucky thought

“You don’t need to” Tony said trying to savour the dinner 

“Why don’t you stay for a movie?” Wanda suggested, 

“I need to go” She said standing up and quickly hurrying out of the room 

A gentle silence fell across the room, “I shouldn’t have asked her” Steve said 

“It’s not on you” Wanda said “I don’t think that anyone could have convinced her to open up to us” 

“I’ll find her address and go over tomorrow, it’ll be easier without anyone else there” Tony said fiercely, 

“She won’t talk to you” Bucky said 

“And she’ll talk to you?” Tony snapped “You’re the reason we are in this mess in the first place. She is my friend and I will do what I think is right” 

“What even happened when you broke up?” Wanda asked 

“ Nothing” Bucky said 

“Don’t lie” Tony snapped 

“What the hell did you do? I thought you two were fine” Nat asked 

“You told us all you two were fine after the breakup” Wanda said 

“Leave him alone” Steve said sternly 

Bucky sighed softly “She just came to drop off a shirt” 

“Nobody drops off a shirt after a year” Tony said “She wanted to see you and you couldn’t even give her the time of day” He snapped 

“She’ll be okay, I’ll come with you tomorrow, we can check in on her” Wanda said 

Bucky didn’t dare to say anything, he just nodded gently. It was a thank you, all be it a silent one, but a thank you none the less. 

----

“Tony, you need to see this” Wanda said as an alert popped up on the screen alerting Tony to a new message, they had been in Tony's lab for a few hours scouting out Y/N's new apartment.

“Have you seen where she is living?” Tony said scanning through the photos that FRIDAY had brought up on his screen “it’s worse than I thought”  

“Tony now” Wanda said fiercely,

“What is it?” Tony asked, turning around, his face dropping when he saw the screen. “Is that?” 

“Y/N” Wanda finished

“Who sent this” Tony asked 

“I don’t know, it’s anonymous. I can’t trace the signal either” 

“FRIDAY, call the team and get them into the conference room now” 

“Yes Mr Stark” FRIDAY answered 

“We can’t tell Bucky” Wanda said, 

“We can and we will because he is going to help us” 

“That’s a bad idea” Wanda said 

“He once was one the best assassins, no debate. As much as I don’t like the tinman, he can and will help us” Tony said leaving little room for debate. 

“Tony what the hell? We’re meant to have the week off of missions” Nat said, sitting down in a chair with a mug of coffee nursed in her hands

“This is different” Tony said, 

“How so?” Steve asked 

“This is personal” Tony said sternly, 

“It’s Y/N” Wanda whispered, 

“What happened to her?” Bucky asked 

“I was sent this video” Tony said

 “We thought it was best we watched it together” Wanda added 

“FRIDAY, play the video please”

The screen went dark for a moment and then lit up with a picture of Y/N locked in a room, Bucky felt a strange wave of familiarity wash over him 

“Tell your friends what we want” A voice spoke, it sent chills down Bucky’s spine, he put her in this position. He had done everything to keep her safe, after all these years, this was his fault. 

“They won’t come” Y/N’s voice was strangely calm 

“Don’t be difficult girl, tell them what we want” The voice spoke again 

“You want the soldier, you want someone who’s gone. But here’s the catch. Even if he wasn’t gone, even if the solider still existed he wouldn’t come. Not for me.” She said 

“We’ve done our research” The voice mused, there was a hint of amusement in it’s voice, as though it had caught Y/N out, 

“Your research is wrong. I haven’t spoken to Bucky in a year, he does’t care” Y/N snapped, a gunshot sounded through the conference room, making them jump 

“Turn it off” Bucky’s voice was quiet but cut through the entire room 

“Shooting blanks at me won’t work” Y/N snapped “If you’re going to kill me then kill me”

“Turn it off” Bucky said once more 

“We want the soldat” The voice behind the camera spoke 

“Then you’ll have to find someone who he cares about, because it  isn’t me” She snapped 

“You have six hours or she dies” 

The camera turned off and the room went dark. All eyes turned to Bucky, 

“When was this sent?” He said 

“Barely ten minutes ago” Wanda answered softly, 

“Let’s start at her apartment” Steve said firmly “Wanda, Clint you’re with me, Tony, Nat you should try and find something from the video, there might be an idea of where they’re keeping her.” 

“I need to go as well” Bucky said 

“No” Wanda said “You need to stay away from this” 

“I spent years tracking people down, I think I’m the best chance we have to finding Y/N” He said challenging anyone to speak out against him

“I’ll go as support” Sam said patting Bucky’s back comfortingly. 

“We need to go, now” Steve said 

----

Steve’s skin crawled at the sight of Y/N’s apartment.  He hesitated before pushing the door open, it creaked and echoed through the tiny studio. Clothes were thrown across the room, plates were stacked up by the sink, two blankets were half heartedly thrown across the bed, no sign of a duvet or pillow. Bucky had to tear his eyes away from her apartment for a minute to regain his composure. 

“I can’t believe she was staying here” Wanda said stepping into it

“It was a means to an end” Steve said, 

“I should have helped her” Wanda sighed softly, her eyes falling on the pile of clothes in the corner of the room,  

“We didn’t know” Clint said

“We should have” Wanda snapped “Look at how she was living, we should have been able to help” 

“She was always good at surviving” Steve said firmly 

“She shouldn’t have had to be, we are her friends and the moment her and Bucky split we left her” Wanda said, tears building in her eyes 

“They must have taken her here, look at the mess” Steve said changing the subject quickly,

“No” Bucky said softly “This is Y/N” Bucky said with a sigh

“What do you mean?” Clint asked “this is normal?” 

“When she got busy, she used to get messy, never put things away. Found it hard to do anything” Bucky said swallowing tightly  “We argued about it” He admitted 

“So did they take her here, or not?” Sam asked 

“Not here, this is normal for her. It didn’t happen here” Bucky said firmly

“Ok so that’s something” Sam said, attempting at a loose sense of positivity

“It must’ve happened by the compound” Wanda said “think about it, if they wanted Bucky then surely they’d be keeping tabs on him. When she left last night they must have taken the next best thing to get to him” She said 

“We need to look at security cameras”  Clint suggested 

“Who wants Bucky though?” Sam said, “I think we’re focussing too much on Y/N, rather than on what they want” 

“Hydra” Steve said through pursed lips 

“It can’t be” Wanda said 

“It has to be” Clint confirmed “It makes the most sense” 

“So who are we looking at? Zemo?” Sam asked 

“Maybe” Steve said “Doesn’t feel right though”, Steve’s thought was cut short by his phone ringing 

“Steve, I’ve got an address” Tony said, “suit up”

----

Bucky couldn’t stop shaking, he’d been on tougher missions, he’d been in tougher briefings, he had almost died more times than he could count. But this felt like the worst day of his life, 

“We’ve been sent an address,” Tony said 

“It’s a trap” Nat said 

“We don’t know that” Steve suggested, “Who sent it to you?” 

“It came with a video, it was from the same people as before” 

“What’s the video?” Sam asked, noticing the tension that had fallen across the room, 

Tony instructed FRIDAY to play the video, Y/N’s face was brought up on the screen, 

“Y/N tell them what you just told me” The voice spoke 

“No” She spat through gritted teeth, her hair was matted with blood which dripped slowly from a wound on her hair line, her face was bruised and Bucky was silently pleased he could only see to the base on her neck, anymore and he was sure he would throw up. The skin he had once pressed kisses to so gently was purple and blotted with blood. 

“Our captive here has a death wish” The voice said again, “She had her little suicide letters in her pocket when we caught her” it sneered 

“Shut the hell up” Y/N snapped, there was something in her eyes that scared Bucky, she looked so void of the love that she had once been filled with 

“She was on the top of a building when we found her, she’s only got 3 hours left avengers. Are you going to give in to her wishes?” 

“Just kill me” She whispered 

“What was that?” The voice asked, it was mocking her, teasing her, it was a sight that Bucky couldn’t stand 

“Kill me!” She shouted, her voice sent chills down each of the spines of her old friends “Just kill me” She said settling into a bought of sobs, 

The video stopped and cut to a map with a pin placed directly in it. 

“We need to go” Steve said “We leave in 5” 

----

The quinjet landed softly and Bucky could feel a knot growing in his stomach, he had been on enough rescue missions to know the ways that this could go. It was an old hydra base, one that Bucky was sure should’ve been emptied years ago. But here it stood, admittedly it was partly falling down but the cells were deep underground and the structures were built to last. He knew that much well enough, if he strained his ears he would swear that he could hear Y/N’s cries, but he convinced himself it was all in his head. 

“She’s going to be okay” Steve said 

“I can’t loose her Steve” Bucky admitted “I’ve lost her once, I can’t watch her die” 

“Then don’t let her” Steve said 

Bucky followed behind the rest of the team, Wanda stood beside him, 

“Do you want me to take the fear away?” She asked under her breath, knowing nobody else would be able to hear her 

“No, I need it” Bucky said, he didn’t explain anything else but Wanda nodded, 

“Let’s go get Y/N home” Wanda said

Bucky followed Tony’s lead, any other mission he would have tried to take the lead off of Tony but he couldn’t for this. Y/N needed Tony’s planning, Y/N’s life couldn’t be in Bucky’s hands. He would never forgive himself if anything happened. They descended into the base, it was too quiet for Bucky’s liking. Hydra would never have kept it this quiet, something was wrong. 

“Welcome home soldat” the words echoed through the halls, 

“They know we are here” Steve muttered, 

“She’s down here” Tony said, taking another set of steps downwards, Bucky could hear her shallow breaths getting louder slowly with each step he took. 

“Y/N?” Steve called out, 

“I told you to fucking kill me” Y/N screamed,  Tony immediately picked up the pace to a run following the sound of her voice.  Their footsteps echoed through the concrete walls, as they came across a long hallway filled with cells made of glass. Bucky’s skin crawled at the sight. This was what he wanted to protect Y/N from, she shouldn’t see this.  

“KIll me” Her voice rang through the cells, 

“Soldat” Bucky turned to find the voice behind him. “Do the honours?” The man said, he was older than Bucky thought he would be. 

“We’re surrounded” Steve said, 

“There’s no getting out of this” The man sneered, 

“That’s kind of where you are wrong” Tony said smartly, “You really think there’s only four of us?” He laughed 

“What?” 

“The rest of our team have cleared out your base, and they’re on their way” He said with a smirk “Also not only have we got two super soldiers, we’ve also got a freaky witch and me, ironman, you might of heard of me” 

“Ironman, you forget. You have an unstable winter soldier on your team, All I have to do is say a few words and he’s under my control right?” 

“Doesn’t work anymore” Bucky snapped 

“I’m bored” Nat said sneaking up from behind, with a wicked grin she pulled the trigger and the body fell to the ground with a thud. Instantly Bucky turned and shot the guard who was keeping him surrounded “God why are all the people we go against so boring” Nat said with a huff, once they had dealt with the guards. 

“Let’s just get Y/N” Tony said letting out a breath. 

Wanda took a step away from the group into a nearby cell, it was as though she felt her. 

“Guys she’s here” Wanda called, 

Bucky took a deep breath and turned the corner, Y/N sat slumped on a chair, out of breath and covered in bruises and dried blood. 

“Please” She whimpered 

“We’re going to get you out of here” Wanda said slowly untying her gently 

“Please no” She cried 

“You’re safe” Steve said kneeling at her side 

“No Please, let me go” She said 

“We’re letting you go, you’re going to be ok” 

“No, please” She sobbed again “You have to let me die” She cried as Wanda pulled the ties away from her 

“Y/N, we can’t do that” Steve said, 

“You’re going to be okay” Tony promised

“Just let me go please?” 

PART TWO

[xnalux]

astronaut!vi hcs

modern!au, engineer!reader, enemies!to!lovers

warnings: mention of claustrophobia and panic attack, fem!reader

pictures are from pinterest and they're not mine except the edit of astronaut!vi who screams ''graphic design is my passion''

author’s note: my christmas was the shittiest so i had to cope somehow and yesterday while i was watching the new ''alien'' this idea came to my mind. this turned out longer than i inteded it to be but i still hope you like it. also it would mean the world to me if you'd let me know what you think about it and if you want to be tagged when i post the part two.

-a kiss on the ass to all of u ♡

astronaut!vi: when she was a child, vander introduced violet and powder to the world of ''star wars'' and from then on it became their dream to go to space.

They used to hide themselves late at night under a big blanket on violet's bed, with the glow of a flashlight illuminating the pages to read comics about intergalactic adventures. That's how vander would found them most of nights.

Powder's breath hitched as the plot thickened, her small hand reaching out to clutch her sister's arm.

"What happens next, Vi?" she whispered, her voice filled with anticipation.

Violet smirked, her confidence unshakeable.

"Don't worry, pow pow. They're going to save the galaxy."

The two sisters were lost in the narrative, their hearts pounding in unison with the pulse of the story. The flashlight flickered slightly, casting dancing shadows on the walls, as if the spacecraft in their comic had somehow entered the room.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and the harsh light from the hallway spilled in. Vander, loomed in the doorway.

He had the look of a man who had been roused from a much-needed sleep by the sound of whispers and rustling pages. Despite his stern expression, there was a hint of fondness in his eyes.

"Girls," he began, his voice a gentle rumble. "It's way past your bedtime."

Violet froze, the flashlight beam quivering in her hand. She had been so lost in the story she hadn't heard his approach. Powder, yanked the blanket up over their heads, turning their sanctuary into a cocoon of darkness once more.

"We're almost done" Violet called out, her voice muffled by the fabric. "Just one more page."

Vander chuckled, his footsteps heavy but soft as he crossed the room. He knew this dance well—their secret nightly ritual. He bent down.

"Violet, you know the rules," he said, his voice a gentle scold.

Violet sighed dramatically. "Yes, sir,"

she replied, emerging from the blanket with a sheepish grin.

"But you know how it is with Captain Nova. She never knows when to quit."

Powder poked her head out, her cheeks flushed with excitement and a hint of guilt. "We'll go to bed right after this, promise," she chimed in, her eyes pleading.

Vander sighed, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Fine," he relented. "But this is the last time, you two. You've got school tomorrow, and you need your rest."

With a nod of understanding, Violet and Powder tucked themselves back under the blanket, the flashlight beam once again illuminating their faces. They shared a conspiratorial smile before Violet resumed her tale.

astronaut!vi: her and powder room when they were kids was a sanctuary for their shared dreams and ambitions.

The walls were a soft shade of midnight blue, filled with glow-in-the-dark stars that they had meticulously applied. It was their own personal galaxy that they would gaze upon each night before drifting off to sleep, dreaming of the adventures they would one day embark upon together.

On one side, Violet's bed was neatly made, her sheets adorned with images of rockets and planets, the pillows arranged with military precision. Above her bed was a bookshelf filled with well-worn copies of astronomy textbooks, science fiction novels, science magazines. Above the bookshelf shelf, a poster of a fiery comet streaking across the sky served as a daily reminder of the thrill and beauty of space exploration.

Powder's space, on the other hand, was a bit more chaotic but no less enchanting. Her bed was covered in a blanket that looked as if it had been plucked straight from the surface of Mars, with swirls of red and orange hues that whispered of alien landscapes. Scattered across her side of the room were models of various spacecraft, each in a state of half-assembly. Her desk was a treasure trove of sketches and doodles, depicting her own imaginative interpretations of the universe. These drawings were taped to the walls, creating a mural of stars, planets and aliens.

The center of the room was dominated by a large, wooden telescope that their Vander had built for them and the floor around it was often littered with astronomy magazines and star maps, evidence of the countless hours they had spent poring over them, plotting their future adventures.

Above their beds, suspended from the ceiling, were twin planets, crafted from papier-mâché and painted with meticulous care.

astronaut!vi: her lesbian awakening was ellen ripley from alien.

After watching it with powder for the first time she became obsessed by it. saved up her money to buy all king of merchandise that revolved around it.

At first she just brushed it off as just being fashinated by a very fucking great movie thus “the aliens were freaking cool” but after the tenth time she rewatched it she started to notice how her gaze lingered on the curves of the astronaut's body, how her heart did a little twirl in her chest whenever the woman was on the screen.

It was the kind of revelation that changes a person, that makes you question everything you thought you knew about yourself. But it was also thrilling, a secret she kept close to her chest, a bud of self-discovery ready to bloom.

at some point even powder noticed it and started teasing her about it.

One day, while the two were window shopping in a comics store, Powder pulled out from a shelf a magazine with an image of Sigourney Weaver as Ripley on the cover.

She held it up to Violet with a smirk, saying,

"Look who it is, your girlfriend."

Violet's cheeks turned bright pink ''shut up'' she snatched the magazine, feigning annoyance. But deep down, she knew her sister was onto something.

From that moment on, Powder took every opportunity to tease her big sis about her newfound infatuation.

It started with playful nudges and knowing looks, escalating to whispering "Ripley" every time she caught her off guard. Violet would roll her eyes and swat her away, but the truth was, it didn't bother her as much as she let on. In fact, it was almost like Powder was giving her permission to explore this new aspect of herself, to embrace it without shame.

astronaut!vi: who had a mental breakdown when she found out, late in her middle school years, that she was dyslexic thinking it would get in the way of achieving her dream of entering the astronaut academy.

it felt as though the universe had suddenly turned against her. The diagnosis didn't just shake her world,it fractured it.

For a week, she retreated into her room, refusing to come out or engage with the world that had so cruelly deceived her. Her books, once her solace and companions, were now her enemies, each page a silent testament to her perceived limitations.

Powder, tried everything in her arsenal to lift her spirits, silly jokes, spend all her saved up coins to buy her the new action figure of alien, even her infamous "World's Best Sister" cinnamon toast, but nothing could penetrate the thick fog of despair that had enveloped Violet.

One evening, as the sun began to set, painting the sky with a palette of fiery oranges and purples, Vander knocked gently on Violet's door. "Kiddo" he called out softly, "can I come in?"

Violet's voice was small, "Yeah, sure."

He entered, his eyes immediately going to her desk where her schoolbooks lay scattered like the ruins of a defeated army. He took a deep breath before speaking,

"you know I don't say much, but when I do, I hope you listen." he continued looking down at vi "I know it's been tough, but you can't let this get to you."

Violet looked up at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears,

"How can you say that? Everything I've ever worked for…it's all gone!"

Vander took a seat beside her, his face a picture of calm determination, "It's not gone, not even close. Being dyslexic doesn't define you, it's just a part of who you are."

He took her hand in his,

"Do you know how many great minds were dyslexic? Einstein, for one, couldn't read until he was seven. He went on to change the way we understand the universe. Or take Edison, he failed over a thousand times before inventing the lightbulb. And what about Walt Disney? He had to overcome dyslexia to create an empire of imagination."

Violet listened, her spirit slowly rising like a phoenix from the ashes of doubt, "But, the Astronaut Academy…"

"Violet" Vander said with a gentle smile, "if you want to reach the stars, you will. There's no rulebook that says you can't get there because your brain processes information differently.''

He leaned in, "You're, capable, and smarter than anyone I know. You've always found a way to conquer challenges, and this is just another one. You're going to prove to everyone that you can do it, that you can be the best of the best."

His words resonated within her, a spark igniting in her chest. Vander had always been her rock. As she looked into his eyes, she felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she could still make it happen.

With a sniffle, she nodded, "You're right. I'll figure it out."

Vander's smile grew, "I know you will. And remember, you're not alone in this. We're a team, you and me and powder…''

As soon as the name of the younger girl fell out of vander lips the door flew open and a little ball of energy bounced inside, blue hair glinting in the dim light of the room as powder quickly jumped on vi's lap.

''the dyslexic team'' she exclaimed dripping with enthusiasm and innocence.

Violet couldn't help but burst in laughter ''that's not how it works pow pow'' powder jutted slightly her lip pouting

''but i want to be as cool as you''

violet just ruffled her blue hair ''you're already the coolest squirt''

astronaut!vi: who from then on worked her ass off and graduated at the top of her middle and high school classes all the while training her physics hitting the gym, running marathons, or practicing kickboxing. she pushed herself to the edge and beyond, sculpting a body that could keep up with the demands of her curious mind.

astronaut!vi: who has a double STEM degree in computer and pshysical science and in the end get accepted in the astronaut academy. when it was time for her to move in to the academy powder cried even tho she still denies it.

Violet was focused intently on the task at hand, zipping up her duffel bag.

Vander appeared in the doorway. He cleared his throat, his calloused hands gripping the doorframe as he assessed the situation.

“You all set, kiddo?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble that echoed the pride he felt for her.

Violet nodded, not looking up from her task. "Yeah, just about."

Powder was sit on the edge of her bed trying to mantain a stoic face but her blue eyes glimmered with unsheaded tears.

vander stepped closer, his hand resting on vi's shoulder in a firm, comforting squeeze.

"Remember, you can do this," he said, his voice low and steady. "You've worked hard, and you're going to be amazing out there."

violet fondly rolled her eyes ''you're getting soft old man'' she tried to lighten up the mood even tho she could feel a lumpforming in her throat.

As soon as vander had left the two girls alone telling violet he was gonna wait for her in the car, a silence filled the room.

vi stood with her arms outstreched her gaze set on powder who was still looking at the point of her colorful boots.

''what? aren't you gonna say bye?''

violet voice was soft, trembling slightly due to the multiple different emotions she was feeling. Powder looked up and suddendly she surged forward throwing herself on the chest of her sister.

violet felt the warmth of Powder's embrace and the weight of her younger sister's head against her chest.

She wrapped her arms around her, her own eyes misting over.

"Hey, squirt" she murmured, stroking powder's back.

"It's just a couple of years, okay? You'll be up there with me before you know it."

"You better send me some cool nasa stuff" powder sniffed, her voice huffled due to her face squished agaist vi's chest.

Violet chuckled, her eyes shining with love and a touch of mischief. "You know I will" she said, ruffling her sister's braids, something she always did to annoy powder "And don't you dare get into any trouble while I'm gone."

As they pulled away, Powder managed a teary smile ''no promises''

the blue haired girl held out a small, folded piece of paper. ''I got you something" she said, her lips curling in a mischievous smile.

"A little… inspiration for when you get lonely at the academy''

violet took the paper, her curiosity piqued. As she unfolded it, she couldn't help but laugh. It was a photocard of none other than Ellen Ripley.

"You little…" Violet said, smiling and shaking her head, her cheeks a bit flushed.

"remember to always kick some asses" Powder said with a firm nod. "And hey, maybe you'll find your own space girl there."

Violet rolled her eyes playfully. "Powder…"

"What? It could happen!"

Their laughter filled the room as Violet tucked the photocard into her pocket.

She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, taking one last look around her room. It had been her sanctuary for so long, but now it was time to move on to greater things.

"Alright, let's go" she said, her voice steady.

astronaut!vi: who becomes a girl crush at the astronaut academy.

During the physical exams at the atronaut academy she shines. Whether it's the zero-gravity maneuvers, the endurance tests, or the high-pressure simulations, violet excels.

Her peers watch in awe as she glides through the obstacle course, her muscles rippling beneath her sleek spacesuit.

The whispers started in the locker room, where the other female cadets couldn't help but steal glances at her broad shoulders and the way her uniform fitted just right.

They talked about her in the mess hall, trading stories of her latest feats of strength or the time she figured out a solution to a physics problem that had stumped everyone else.

The crushes were subtle, the glances lingering, but the admiration was clear.

astronaut!vi: who is actually fucking oblivious and never get the hint when girls actually flirst with her.

one day, as the academy's cafeteria buzzed with the usual mix of recounted training sessions and space trivia debates, a fellow girl cadet, approached Violet's lunch table.

She approached Violet with a tray of food and set her tray down gently next to Violet's.

"Hey, Vi, how'd you manage to nail the zero-g obstacle course today?" she asked, her voice a little softer than the usual. "I mean you are always so strong and capable."

Violet, her mouth full of food, looked up with a cheeky grin. "Just a bit of luck and a whole lot of practice"

she said, shrugging off the compliment.

the fellow girl cadet leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling like distant stars. "Maybe we could practice together some time?" she suggested, her voice a delicate balance between casual and hopeful.

But Violet, lost in her own little world of space-induced euphoria, took her words at face value. "Sure, I could use the company," she said, patting the seat next to her. "We can go through the simulations again tonight if you want."

that's how violet usually accidentally friendzoned girls. In the end it would always ekko, Violet's best friend and a fellow cadet who was as sharp as a tack, who made her notice what she was so oblivious to notice.

''you are aware she was hitting on you right?''

Violet's eyes widened, and she choked on her drink. "what?!" she sputtered, coughing. "she just wanted to train more!"

Ekko smirked, slapping her on the back. "geez, you're fucking hopless" he teased her ''at this rate you will land on mars before even losing your virginity''

violet's cheeks turned a delightful shade of red, and she playfully shoved Ekko.

"Shut up"

astronaut!vi: who absolutely couldn't stand you, you were a cadet at the academy with a STEM in engineering but who lacked a bit on the physical strenght and practical thinking or as she liked to call you ''a smartass know it all who wouldn't last one second if she actually got to space''. You two always ended up bickering during simulation training.

like when during an intense space shuttle emergency drill simulation, you and violet were tasked with navigating a simulated crisis together. The lights were flashing, alarms were blaring, and the stress levels were through the roof. you had to work as a team to save your hypothetical spacecraft and its virtual crew.

She started commanding you around as you began to suggest alternative procedures based on some engineering manual you had read and even though some of them deserved merit she wasn't listening to you leaving you feeling frustrated.

''if you just stopped for a second and listened to me'' you bursted out clenching your fists to the side

She rolled her eyes and shot back.

"This isn't the time for your textbook theories, we're following the protocol!"

but you didn't falter and your suggestions grew more frequent, and she had had enough. She grabbed the intercom and announced

"Mission control, we have an uncontrollable know-it-all on board. Requesting immediate evacuation."

The room burst into laughter, even the instructors couldn't help themselves.

But Violet's message was clear: she didn't trust you to follow through in a real crisis and this infuriated you.

astronaut!vi: who actually couldn't shut up about you. she never lose the chance to bring u up in the conversation to rant about something infuriating you did that day to powder when they videocall at night in her room until one night powder had had enough.

Violet, sat in the dimly lit confines of her dorm room at the astronaut academy, her laptop screen casting a bluish hue on her face. She was dressed in her tank top with the academy's logo emblazoned on the chest, and navy blue sweatpants that hugged her muscular thighs. Her hair pulled back into a tight bun, revealing the contours of her sharp jawline and the small scar above her right eyebrow.

on the screen was powder, with a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth, powder leaned into the camera, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"So, what'd she do this time?" she drawled, a knowing look in her eyes noticing the sour mood violet was in.

"You wouldn't believe it"

Violet began falling right in the trap of the blue haired sister, and with her voice filled with a mix of exasperation and incredulity she dived in a rant about something you did that rubbed her in the wrong way during training.

powder's smirk grew wider as she leaned back in her chair.

"what a surprise sis, talking about the infamous smartass again" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "What's her name again?"

"Doesn't matter" Violet replied, waving a dismissive hand. "what matters she's always questioning my methods, always assuming she knows better when she probably couldn't even find her way out of a paper bag if she didn't have a GPS.''

"you know" Powder suggested, her voice playful. "for someone who affirm to not stand her you surely mention her a shit-ton of times"

Violet rolled her eyes crossing her arms over her chest. "what's that even supposed to mean"

"oh, come on" Powder teased, her eyes glinting. "Admit it. you've got a crush on her and your pining is getting pathetic sis"

The room grew silent as the words hung in the air.

Violet's cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson, and she sputtered, "What? No! That's ridiculous. I can't stand her!"

Powder leaned in closer, her smirk morphing into a full-blown grin. "But why do you talk about her so much, then?''

Violet opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out. Her mind raced back to the times she'd found herself stealing glances at the you.

"You know what, Powder?" she finally said, her voice tight. "You're out of your mind.''

Powder's grin became even bigger and she sing songed "you want to scissor with her in space so bad''

Violet almost choked on her own spit as she let out an horrified high pitched sound.

''what the fuck pow''

astronaut!vi: who from that night on from that moment on, Violet couldn't function around you the way she used to. Her usual sharpness was blunted by an awkwardness that was unexpected. whenever you entered a room, she would stumble over her words, her sentences trailing off into nothingness. Her eyes, which once bore into you with a look that could cut through the vacuum of space, now darted away, unable to hold your gaze due to her mind conceiving image of you two in compromising situation always ending up cursing herself under her breath ''get a fucking grip''.

during training sessions, she'd stumble when you offered a solution to a problem, her mind racing with thoughts she hadn't allowed herself to entertain before. In the weightlessness of the zero-G chamber, she'd fumble with the equipment, and when you'd gracefully glide over to assist, she'd snap at you, her voice cracking under the weight of her own denial.

After all she was an hormonal young woman who suddendly became hyper aware of how attractive you were even tho you still got under her skin like no other.

you, on your end, noticed the shift in her demeanour and the how the tension between you two had shifted to something different but you were too convinced she hated you to actually understand what was right in front of you.

astronaut!vi: who one day kisses you.

It was during a routine simulation, one that you'd both done a hundred times before, that things took an unexpected turn. You were supposed to be running through the emergency protocols for a spacewalk gone wrong.

You were in the simulator, the walls closing in around you, the artificial gravity playing tricks with your inner ear.

Suddenly, the room grew smaller, the air thicker, and your heart began to race. You had never told anyone about your claustrophobia, not even the academy psychologists. It was your secret, your weakness, and you had hoped it would never come to light.

Violet was in the control room, watching the monitors as you fumbled with the virtual equipment. She had her usual smirk on her face, ready to make a snide remark about how you'd probably trip over your own feet in zero gravity.

But then she noticed something off about your movements, something she hadn't seen before. Your hands were shaking, and your eyes were darting around the tiny space like a trapped animal's.

"Come on, you've got this" she said over the intercom, expecting you to snap back with a clever retort. But instead, there was only silence, broken by your rapid, shallow breathing.

Panic was setting in, and you were unable to respond, let alone move.

Her smirk faded, replaced with a frown of concern. "What's wrong?" she demanded, her voice sharp. "Why aren't you responding?"

You tried to speak, to explain, but the words wouldn't come out. Your mouth was dry, and your chest felt tight. You could see her getting frustrated, tapping her fingers impatiently on the control panel.

"This isn't the time for games" she said, her voice tight. "You need to focus."

But it was no use. your mind was racing, and you couldn't control the fear that was overwhelming you.

It was then that she saw it: the sheen of sweat on your forehead, the way you were clutching at the console. And she realized it wasn't you being a know-it-all who was incapable of action. It was something else entirely.

Her expression softened, and she stepped away from the controls. "Hey, it's okay" she said gently. "Just breathe. In… out… in… out…"

Your eyes found hers through the small window of the simulator, and you tried to follow her instructions, but the panic was like a beast that had you in its grip.

violet made a split-second decision. She knew you were in trouble, and she couldn't just stand there and watch. She hit the emergency override, and the simulator popped open, revealing you, gasping for air.

without a moment's hesitation, she climbed into the simulator with you, ignoring the safety protocols. Her strong arms gripped your shoulders, shaking you slightly trying to get you out of your mind.

"You're okay" she murmured. "You're okay. It's just a simulation."

But the words weren't enough. You could feel your heart racing, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

''I c-can't'' you choked out, your own hands shoot up grabbing at vi's gear.

violet's eyes searched yours, the blue of them piercing through the fog of your panic. She saw the desperation in your gaze, the silent plea for help.

Her hands moved to cradle your face, and she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your cheek. "Look at me'' she whispered firmly, her voice a soothing balm to the chaos in your head. "Breathe with me."

your eyes remained wide, but you managed a nod, focusing on her face. Her thumbs brushed away the beads of sweat from your forehead, a tender gesture that somehow grounded you.

"In" she instructed, drawing in a deep breath, "and out." Her exhale was slow and deliberate, and you tried to mimic it, but your breaths were still ragged.

"Violet, I… I can't" you stammered, your voice trembling.

her grip tightened, and she leaned in even closer, her eyes never leaving yours. "You can" she insisted, her voice a gentle command. "You're strong, smartass"

but the panic was a raging storm, and her words alone couldn't calm it. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched you struggle, and she remembered something stupid she once read somewhere.

Without giving it another thought, she leaned in and pressed her lips to yours. It was a soft, brief kiss, but it was enough. Your eyes widened in shock, and for a second, the panic took a backseat.

as Violet's lips met yours, the world outside the simulation faded away. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, there was only the feeling of her breath mingling with yours, the warmth of her touch, and the sudden, inexplicable calm that flooded through your body. The claustrophobic walls of the simulator no longer seemed so daunting.

Her kiss was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the tough exterior she usually presented. It was like a lifeline thrown into the abyss of fear that had consumed you. Your breathing slowed, the hyperventilation subsiding, as the warmth of her embrace began to replace the cold grip of panic.

When she pulled away, you remained still, your eyes locked with hers, trying to understand what had just happened. You felt a strange mix of relief and confusion. The room around you was the same, the cold metal and the artificial lights, but something within you had shifted.

Violet's cheeks were flushed, and she looked surprised at her own actions. "I… I read somewhere that a kiss can help stop a panic attack" she said clearing her throat, her hand scratching awkwardly her nape and her usual confidence momentarily forgotten. "It's… it's supposed to help ground you, I guess."

the air between you crackled with an awkward tension as you stared at each other. Your chest was still heaving, but the fear was slowly subsiding.

the instructor's voice through the intercome pulled you both back to reality "Cadets, report status."

Violet cleared her throat and responded, "We're… we're okay. Continue with the simulation."

[kingkat12]

unbearable (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, handjob, alcohol, graphic imagery, angst, mention of drugs, physical violence (almost), asshole teenage boys

summary: Roman had heard your no, respected your wishes, but now you were wondering how big of a blow it truly was for him to get his sexual advances rejected-- why was he blowing this so out of proportion? was something else maybe going on in that brain of his?

word count: 11,054 (am i on the brink of insanity maybe)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10

a/n: sorry for the wait!! school is driving me nuts... BUT SO IS ROMAN!!! GRRR, enjoy!!!<333

Vladimir Nabokov, the author of Lolita, once wrote to his wife; "I love you, I'm waiting for you unbearably,"

... Waiting for Roman was unbearable, too.

Shatteringly unbearable. Images of wanting to ball up into a contortion of nothingness haunted me, and the need to become a single entity of anger and despair clawed wounds into my skin. I kept imagining I would grow extra arms to help my body become a circle, an ouroboros, but not stopping at the tail-- a snake eating itself to death.

If I could eat myself, I would. Not like an apple, not with gentle nips-- no, I would sink my teeth into my flesh and tear, rip, pull with all my might. Pull, pull, until I was nothing but a gushing wound. 

This is what Roman was driving me to. 

Is this a bearable state to be in? Constantly?

If I were to ask myself that question once more, I would answer that I no longer thought anything at all. I refused to. My brain stopped working properly the first time I saw him, anyway. Therefore none of my actions actually mattered. They had no consequence. No consequence at all, just like Roman probably saw his actions.

I should've listened to him the night we got together; "I shut down," he'd said. "I retaliate when I'm angry." Maybe I needed to be diagnozed with selective hearing? It was starting to seem as though I shut my ears whenever he spoke, only listening to the muffled sound of his voice as my pupils formed into pulsing hearts. 

Still, it seemed I wasn't the only one with selective hearing. If I closed my eyes, I could live through the moment I tried to tell Roman I wasn't up for having sex with him last night. It was like he didn't hear me, didn't register it; but in hindsight, it didn't feel like it was with ill intent. 

... Maybe this hearing thing actually needed to be addressed. Maybe we both needed a trip to the doctor's office to tell them we couldn't hear or think properly.

While we're there, I think I'd also like to have him referred to a therapist of sorts. Maybe he could learn how to communicate properly and not run off into the night when he doesn't get laid?

Oh, well-- a girl is allowed to dream. Get a little lost in her head. Sometimes, that's necessary. Especially in moments like these;

I spotted Roman beneath the bleachers with some of his friends, leaning against the metal structure. His hair was styled in the usual heartbreaker style, and the two upper unclasped buttons of his shirt allowed me to glance at the small area of exposed skin-- I spotted the vial of my blood around his neck, and the longer I stood here, I remembered how soft he was to the touch; especially when he was shirtless and on top of me. I hated how I was thinking about him like a dumb cat in heat. Still, I couldn't take my eyes off him; Roman seemed so carefree, laughing with his friends, unaware of how ridiculously handsome he looked. 

He should be jailed for walking around looking like that. For life, preferably. 

My eyes focused on the way he lazily balanced his cigarette between his fingers, taking slow, careful drags as he listened to his friend talk in the heat of the weather. Now, Roman was as different from yesterday as humanly possible-- I could still see the quiet, retreated version of him he had become last night after the rejection. The one that had practically thrown a fit about not getting laid, which quickly spiraled into what I could only categorize as a mental crisis. Had he been so shocked by getting a no that he had shot himself into existential dread? 

And why was his first conclusion that I didn't want him at all?

For a girl who just said she refused to think, I sure did a lot of it. I decided that enough was enough-- I needed to talk to him. Roman was my boyfriend after all, I should be able to do so.

Still, I couldn't remember the last time I felt this small as I made my way towards him, anxiously clearing my throat before I tapped Roman's shoulder. I hadn't managed to put much strength into the tap, and I was almost worried he wouldn't notice me--

One of his friends chimed in with a nasty grin, motioning for Roman to turn around; "Pretty girl, six o'clock," 

Roman turned his head to me, and it was clear that he hadn't expected to see me. His smile fell a little as he pulled his cigarette away from his lips, making sure to exhale upwards and away from my face. I spotted my hair ties around his wrist-- knowing he still wore them gave me a sense of ease. "Hey, sweets," Roman teased, casual as ever. "The catwalk ain't here, you gotta go down to the city center for that."

I rolled my eyes, watching the smug smirk form on his face as the rest of his friends snickered. Why was he acting so... normal? "Rome, we need to talk,"

"Well, fuck," he mumbled, turning to his friends with a playful shimmer in his green eyes. "It seems I'm in trouble, guys." It was as though he was egging them on as they all collectively ooh-ed, his loyal spectators, his royal servants. 

I didn't like this side of Roman. Jock-Roman. There were many sides of him I didn't like, actually. Or was it maybe that I didn't like myself for liking him at all? This was becoming more of a mind-fuck than expected. And if we were to play mind games, I knew where to strike; "Roman, either you fucking talk to me like a grown man, or I sit down in Daniel's lap during lunch today. Your choice," 

His head turned towards me with nearly inhuman speed, no trace of any humour on his face anymore. The sudden change was chilling-- I would've shivered, had I not expected it. The oohs only got louder from the group of boys, and I watched Roman's eye twitch as he threw his cigarette down to the floor, stomping it. Still, I didn't break eye contact; I had read somewhere that dogs battled for dominance this way. Since when were Roman and I no better than dogs? 

Roman turned to his pack; "Scram," he said, nodding for them to leave. 

They were gone within seconds. 

He turned to me, a tired look about him. "Talk, then,"

"No," I placed myself before him, watching his green eyes follow me. "That's not how a conversation works. One person says something, and the other one responds. Would you like to try that out, maybe practice a little? It seems you didn't do enough of that in elementary school."

Roman scoffed, rolling his eyes as he stuffed his hands into his front pockets. "How sweet of you,"

"What can I say? I'm patient like that,"

"You'd be good with kids,"

"How great that you're acting like a child, then," I sighed, realizing that I needed a different strategy if I wanted to get anything out of this conversation. For now, Roman remained silent, probably holding back a long string of curses. I took another step forward, and I was immediately embraced by the scent of his cologne. Fuck, how I loved the expensive smell of Roman. Still, I knew I had to get myself together; I let my eyes soften as I looked up at him. "You haven't answered any of my calls or messages... I don't get what's going on in your head. I'm simply trying to understand, but you're just running away. Again."

Roman's eyelids hung heavy over his eyes, lashes fluttering lazily as he met my gaze. He let out a loud sigh; "Maybe I just need space? Did you ever weigh that option?" 

"... Do you want space?" This was so damn confusing. "You wanted to be as close as humanly possible last night, though?"

Roman scoffed again-- was it a laugh? He didn't say anything as he looked away, possibly to think. Like this, I spotted the vial again; I let out a relieved breath. To be honest, a part of me was worried he'd take it off. 

Finally, he spoke; "I need some time. Time to think,"

"Think about what?" This was making my heart speed up. "Roman, you're worrying me."

He shrugged, still not meeting my gaze. "Just... time. Is that so damn hard to give?" 

God, how I hated his tone. Hated the way he spoke to me right now, hated it all. It pushed me to say my deepest fear out loud; "If you're seriously breaking up with me because I didn't want to sleep with you with my parents on the other side of the wall, I sure hope you think very, very carefully,"

"What?" Roman seemed to snap out of it, finally looking at me. His brows were drawn together, confused; "I'm not breaking up with you. Aren't you breaking up with me?"

"What?" 

"... What?" 

We both looked at each other with bewilderment. It seemed we had both come to very, very different conclusions. 

"Roman, I'm not breaking up with you?" 

"... Why not?" 

"What?!" It felt like my brain was actively melting-- I groaned, rubbing my temples. "What on earth do you mean, why not?"

"I don't know!" Roman's brain seemed to be malfunctioning as well. He kicked off the metal of the bleachers, his mouth opening and closing as he frantically tried to find the right words. His hands were pulled out of his pockets, flailing; "Fuck, I'm confused! I'm gonna-- gonna hyperventilate, so I need to go. Need to-- Yeah, I'm leaving."

I couldn't believe how fast he took off. I hadn't seen anything like that before. Roman wasn't even running, he was simply walking with very, very long steps, and that was enough to be out of reach for me within seconds. 

I wanted to scream up at the sky-- what even was that conversation just now? The urge to drive my head into the bleachers became overwhelming, unbearable, but I opted to simply kick the structure instead. 

That was a miscalculation on my part. I hissed as the blow to my foot sent jolts of pain up my spine, and I winced as I suppressed the need to jump around on my other foot and look like a clown in the process. I cursed, leaning against the cold metal as I tried to steady my breathing.

This day was not going very well so far.

And it certainly didn't get any better when I heard the shuffling of small footsteps along the grass nearby. 

I should've known-- Letha stopped a few steps away from me, her blonde hair moving away from her face with the passing breeze. I blinked through the pain multiple times to make sure it really was her, that she actually had the nerve to walk up to me again. Sadly, I didn't have Roman to hide behind this time. But she looked so sweet with her hands clasped behind her, along with the unsure little tilt back and forth on her feet; "That didn't look very pleasant," Letha mumbled.

I didn't want to entertain this, yet I did. "What, the kick?"

"Well, that too," Letha's trying smile nearly broke my heart. I hated that we didn't know how to talk to each other anymore. "I meant the fight. Is he acting out?"

"... He's not a child, he's not acting out,"

"Didn't you just call him a child?"

"... He's my boyfriend, we're allowed to fight!" I gnarled. "And who the fuck are you to talk to me about this? How much of that conversation did you hear?"

Letha looked like I had just kicked her. "I always do my homework on the bleachers. You guys chose to fight right beneath me,"

Fuck. "You should've moved, then!--"

"It usually helps to dig into what set him off. And then, when you think you have the answer, rip it apart and look through the pieces," Letha's green eyes bore into mine, shimmering with traces of dimmed hope. "I have no idea what you're fighting about, but I've known Roman my whole life. That's how he operates, and... that's all I wanted to say. Hope I can be of some help."

An awkward silence fell over us like a damp blanket-- this was uncomfortable. Nonetheless, I stilled. A part of me recognized that Letha would've been the first to know of my problems with Roman, had we not had a falling out. Had she not iced me out, made me an outcast, turned all my friends against me, and practically shoved me down into the dirt. I would've confided in her, asked her for guidance, support-- I grieved our bond all over again. I gave in, shrugging; "Okay. Thanks,"

That seemed to take a weight off Letha's shoulders. As we stood in silence, simply gazing at one another, until her eyes slowly landed on my necklace. Roman's blood. It dawned on me that it was too late to tuck it beneath my shirt, and I awaited some sort of grief from her about it if she recognized what it was--

"Oh," she breathed. "It makes a little more sense, now."

"What does?"

"If he wears your blood around his neck as well, then it all makes perfect sense,"

"What does, Letha?"

The look she gave me sent a cold set of shivers down my spine. It was ominous, like I had been marked by death. Letha shrugged; "Of course he's... on edge, then,"

The chase was getting frustrating. "Care to go on, or are you just going to keep saying cryptic shit?"

"I can't!-- It's hard to explain!" Letha's shoulders slumped in defeat as her inner turmoil streaked her face. "Just imagine you're really, really broke, but you have a hundred dollar bill hanging around your neck... and under no circumstances can you use it." Her eyes nearly drilled holes into mine. "Would it not drive you crazy?"

Why did it sound like she was insinuating that Roman was a?--

No. 

No.

I didn't want to hear this. I didn't bother to give Letha a proper answer before I kicked off the metal of the bleachers, glaring at her as I passed her. "Stay away," I hissed, harshly nudging her shoulder. "Fuck off back to Barbieworld or wherever it is you came from."

As I marched back to the main building, I found it nearly impossible to steady my breathing. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest as I grasped the vial of blood around my neck, rubbing it between my fingers as my mind raced. 

It was only when I finally got to class and slumped down on the last free seat that I could think back to last night with a clearer vision than before.

The Avoidable Vampirism - The Upir had kept me up long enough to see the sunrise. I wanted to blame it on the author for writing such a captivating book. 

Still, the one thing I hated about literature such as this, was that it never actually said anything straight-forward. It always had to be a nonsense passage with lots of filler words and even more dancing around the actual message;

"Blood's effect on a upir is as much psychological as it is physical. Upirs tend to escalate small arguments in hopes of an eventual physical struggle, a battle that may wound, without properly understanding why. This may lead to a strong sense of insecurity which often settles in the upir's mind and festers, only drawing them forth to the dark road the curse wants them to venture."

That's what was written in the passage about upirs and blood. Nearly impossible to understand, and even further confusing, right? The worst must've been the passage that was written like a self-help book. Did the author seriously think upirs were real?

... Did I?

"And what happens when a upir is exposed to blood, you may ask? There are levels of control which range from person to person. Some may have gotten accustomed to the smell from having cut themselves in earlier years, and some may go into a spiral which is often misdiagnozed as mania in urban psychological trials. But some upirs are so assimilated, they can do experiments with blood or carry vials of it with them wherever they go— which is an inclination that should not be encouraged. The more the upir is around blood in a constant flow, the more the irritation festers, the anger boils, and the innate aggression settles."

And this is where I had to stop. I remember putting the book down to stare at the moon in the distance, wondering why on earth I had fallen into a loophole like this. I couldn't believe how many similarities I could draw between these supposed upirs and my boyfriend-- what did that say about Roman? He was possibly edgier than I had initially thought.

The more I thought about the similarities, the more insane I felt. 

... I needed to return this book to the library. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

"The both of you are like two rabid raccoons fighting over scraps in the New York City sewers," Peter grumbled, lazily sweeping the floor with his broom. 

I blinked, no longer rolling up cables as I turned to him. "... Do you have to use the craziest metaphors? And why is it always an animal?"

We had been assigned to clean up after an assembly later that same day, a task I had been able to evade up until now. So, when I spotted Peter also being forced to do this, we both huddled up in the corner of the auditorium backstage and started doing the most mundane tasks with the least effort to pass the time. However, it seemed he had been informed of my petty fight (or whatever the hell this was) with Roman, which was why he was back to making animal metaphors again. "Rabid raccoons..." I mumbled, reaching for a new cable to roll up. "Why the New York City sewers? Why raccoons?"

Peter shrugged; "Uh... Because raccoons are cool?"

Well, that's the thing with boys, isn't it-- there's pure static noise in their brains. I sighed, suppressing a chuckle as I continued my task. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the teacher wasn't catching us slacking off before I turned back to Peter. "Did Roman maybe mention that he thought I was going to break up with him over this?"

"Yeah," Peter also looked over at the teacher just to double check. "I told him it was nonsense, but he's spiraling. He's also gotten obsessed with the idea of joining a raw meat eating contest."

It was impossible not to roll my eyes. Boys. "Seriously, what is up with him these days? Please, bro-code aside, what the fuck is happening?"

I was sure the stupid upir book was the reason my heart jumped when Peter's gaze went straight to my necklace. It almost felt like he was wordlessly trying to hint something-- no, I needed to get this out of my head. 

Still, it chimed in my mind like an old clock;

There are even some upirs that are so assimilated, they can do experiments with blood or carry vials of it with them wherever they go— which is an inclination that should not be encouraged.

Should not be encouraged.

Should not be encouraged.

Peter's voice snapped me out of it-- "I think he's just going through withdrawal,"

"Withdrawal?" I echoed, turning my full attention towards him. That didn't sound good. "What do you mean, withdrawal? From what? He hasn't stopped smoking, if that's what you're talking about."

It seemed to dawn on Peter that he had said something he shouldn't have. His brown eyes widened and he cleared his throat, no longer sweeping the floor as he stopped in his tracks. "You don't know?"

"... You're killing me here,"

Peter sucked in a sharp breath, nodding to himself in defeat. "I would make you promise not to tell him I told you, but I bet you'll want to talk to him about this, so I won't even bother," His grip around the broom tightened; "So... Roman and I used to do coke together. A lot." When he didn't get a reaction, Peter grew visibly nervous. "It used to be the usual thing at parties. Roman always had a stash, and I'd join in from time to time... And he hasn't had a hit for a while, probably since you two got together, so all of this is probably just a part of the withdrawal."

Oh. I had forgotten about this. I blinked, tilting my head to the side as I gazed up at Peter with furrowed brows. Was that supposed to be a big reveal of sorts? Did he seriously think I didn't know that they used to do drugs? That I hadn't seen the both of them leaning over tables, snorting lines as I passed the room to check whether Roman was in there with a girl or not? This confirmed that they didn't notice me that one time I walked in on them in a bathroom while Roman was making the lines neat with his credit card. "Ah, so that's what that was?"

Peter's eyes widened; "... What?"

"The stuff you two were always snorting," Shrugging, I watched the look on his face distort into one of shock. It hit me that he hadn't known the true depths of how obsessed I used to be with Roman, and that I needed to get myself together before I revealed anything further damning; "Peter, I have a little something called vision. And a brain, for that matter. You guys aren't slick."

"We... aren't?"

It was impossible not to laugh, and I reached forward to nudge his shoulder. "Not in the least," To be honest, I was relieved to hear that Roman was coming off drugs and that my ridiculous upir-suspicions had been untrue. Maybe I could finally put all of that behind me and return the stupid book?

... Please. I was afraid I was going crazy.

He scoffed, moving away to continue sweeping the floors with a grumpy look on his face; "Anyway. That's the only explanation I have for you concerning what's up with him, but it's only an assumption. Maybe you should take a step back and let him come to you when he's done freaking out?" Peter glanced at me, almost as though he was plotting something. "Actually... I think I have the perfect thing to take your mind off this."

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I regretted it the second I said yes, and I regretted it even more right now.

I had never been the biggest fan of parties, mostly because I was used to constantly getting smacked in the face with the truth that Roman was a bit of a whore (an understatement). So as I stood on the front porch with Peter later that night, surrounded by his friends as I listened to them talk about football (I wasn't paying attention, so I wasn't actually sure of the subject), I couldn't help but feel that same dread as before. I knew that Roman was my boyfriend now, that he wasn't upstairs with some random girl at this party, but the smell of alcohol yanked me right back to the memories. Actually, he wasn't even here at all.

Clutching the empty can of my finished drink, I gently yanked at the hem of Peter's sweater to catch his attention. "This isn't helping," I mumbled, meeting his big, brown eyes. "I feel bad being at this party without Roman... If he finds out, he's going to think I'm here to cheat on him or something. He's insane like that."

Peter sighed, rolling his eyes as he pulled me aside from the group. "Look, you need to relax, okay? I have it all under control,"

"You... what?"

His mouth pulled into a straight line, realizing he had said too much. Again. "Remember what I said about Roman not being here?"

Oh no. Peter had watched too many rom-coms. "For fuck's sake," I breathed, feeling my heart speed up. "Please don't say you told the both of us to come here?"

As annoying as the situation already was, Peter only made it worse by grinning in my face. He shrugged, brushing the severity off; "Last time I saw him, he was playing beer-pong,"

I was two seconds away from wrapping my fingers around Peter's neck and strangling him to death. "So Roman is running around this party drunk, and maybe also high on coke again while he's ignoring me?" Now, I was even closer to ripping my hair out of my follicles; "Oh, what an amazing idea this was, Peter! What a genius you are, this is just fantastic!"

Peter huffed, placing a condescending hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. "He's not high, okay? Just go find him, preferably before he falls over in the pool. I've let him marinade for long enough."

I grimaced-- "Marinade?" I needed to learn to stop trying to decrypt whatever Peter was saying. It never made sense, anyway. "First of all, fuck you. And second..." I took a deep breath, realizing what I was about to do; "... Wish me luck."

My head started pounding to the same rhythm as the song blasting through the speakers when I made my way inside and waded through the crowd. I hated that I was in this situation in the first place, hated that I hadn't spoken to my boyfriend in about twenty-four hours, but most of all...

I hated Roman Godfrey.

I hated the way he made me feel, hated how crazy I had become in my pursuit of him, hated, hated, hated him. However, amid my rage storm, I got a whiff of the scent of cinnamon cigarettes-- that brought me out of the inferno. I could recognize that, mixed with Roman's cologne, anywhere. I instinctively turned, realizing I had passed by the door to the kitchen, and I could be sure my eyes nor sense of smell were deceiving me as I now stood frozen, staring up at my boyfriend's broad shoulders. 

Roman's back was turned to me, but I could see that he was playing another round of beer-pong with a couple of friends scattered around the table. He hadn't noticed me, and I made sure he wouldn't. Still, the one person that caught my eye, was the girl by the counter next to where Roman was standing. I hid my body around the corner, peeking in past the door to catch another glimpse of the girl--

Fuck. It was Jessica. The girl Roman had flirted with to make me jealous the same day I told Letha I had feelings for him. Everything about her made me sick; the way she was dangling her long legs off the counter, staring up at him with literal hearts in her eyes, and how she twirled her blonde hair around her pinky as she tried to catch his attention with multiple calls of his name.

Roman seemed calm, unbothered, until he finally acknowledged her with an annoyed hum. It was only when he turned to face her, having just finished his turn in the game, that I saw that he was now pulling a cigarette out of his signature red box. I let out a shaky sigh of relief as I spotted my hair ties still hanging around his wrist, but I didn't get much time with my comfort before Jessica spoke up. 

Her voice was so painfully nasal; "So are you really seeing her?"

Roman's brows drew together as he balanced a cigarette between his slender fingers. God, how I missed his hands on me. "Who?"

Jessica said my name, followed by a pout. "If it's true, then that's really fucking unexpected. I have English lit with her, and she doesn't seem like your type,"

Had I not been desperate to hear Roman's answer, I would've grabbed the nearby lamp and bashed her head in-- alcohol didn't seem to have the best effect on my thoughts tonight. Still, Roman didn't react much, now patting down his pockets for his lighter. "Yeah, I'm seeing her. She's my girl,"

She's my girl. It echoed in my head over and over. My girl.

However, Jessica didn't seem too pleased with this revelation. She rolled her eyes, letting go of her hair; "She's not even a cheerleader," 

"And? I'm tired of you lot," 

"Romie, come on!" The nickname nearly made me puke in my mouth, effectively wiping my smile off my face. I watched as Jessica proceeded to reach out and put a hand on his arm, pursing her lips like a dumb fucking bimbo-- "I don't think a girl like that could handle you... sexually."

Ew! I wanted to slam my head against the door. Would that relieve the pain of hearing this conversation?

But Jessica continued; "Everyone knows she's been crazy about you for some time now. Everyone except Letha knew, actually, but that girl is more gullible than a lamb! But you must be aware that your girlfriend thinks you walk on water? You're dating the epitome of your fucking stalker. But does that turn you on, maybe?"

Roman blinked twice before brushing Jessica's hand off with a silent scoff (finally). He found his lighter in his back pocket, lighting his cigarette as he rolled his eyes. "Shut your filthy whore mouth," he grumbled, cig sitting between his lips. When he was done lighting it, he held the lighter out dangerously close to Jessica's face-- "I'll burn your disgusting extensions right off."

She didn't seem too phased by it on the outside, but I could see the slight tremble in her hands as she now gripped the counter. Was this how Roman talked to other girls? How had I not noticed this before? "No need," Jessica said, gulping. "I can see you're taking her... seriously." She cleared her throat, letting out a shaky breath as Roman moved away. Jessica didn't have much time with her usual clean air before he blew the smoke from his cigarette in her face, and she quickly fell into a coughing fit.

I realized what I was watching when Roman smiled with evil glee at the sight of her pain. The version of Roman he used to be. It felt like I had opened a portal back to two months ago, before anything between us had happened and he was running around stabbing people with needles to get a rush.

"Of course I'm taking her seriously," Roman said, letting the cigarette rest between his lips. "I actually like her this time, unlike anything I've ever felt for you. She's sweet, and you're like... maggots crawling out from the depths of hell compared to her."

... Ouf. 

Jessica didn't seem to be taking this very well. Her blue eyes hardened, traces of tears welling up in her eyes as her grip on the counter tightened to the point where her knuckles started to whiten-- "You're lovely tonight, as always," she mumbled, hurt. Her voice grew bitter; "But where is your girl, then? Did you leave her at home to come here alone? 

Roman exhaled the smoke through his nose with one quick breath, turning to his friends when they called his name. He was thrown the beer-pong ball, and he effectively ignored Jessica's questions to play his turn in the game.

His lack of answers seemed to give her hope that he might stray. Jessica sat forward on the counter, drying any traces of welled-up tears as she lit up. "Oh, Romie," she purred-- I nearly threw up in my mouth again. "It's nice to see you don't change."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Roman turned to her, brows drawn together. 

Jessica sighed, once again reaching out to rest her hand on his bicep. The worst part was when she gave it a little squeeze and her eyes locked on him-- fuck. "One girl will never be enough for you. You're aware of that, right?" She moved further to the edge of the counter (could she not fall off already?), batting her lashes; "If you're here tonight because you're not satisfied, I know a few ways to... satisfy you."

That was it. This was sickening. Had I not been so nervous to hear Roman's response, I would've lunged forward and slammed her empty head down to the floor. However, I could only press my body against the wall I was hiding behind, listening to the dampening of my breath as my heart thumped harshly against my ribs-- this was torture. This was complete and utter torture. 

I'm waiting for you unbearably.

Unbearably. 

This was unbearable.

It felt as though my chest was caving in on itself, threatening to make me a ball of nothing again, until Roman finally moved; gripping Jessica's hand with two fingers, he removed her off of him as though he was disgusted to even be touching her. "Are you maybe a little hard of hearing? Perhaps you hit your head really hard when you were younger, I have no idea, but I'll make it nice and comprehensible for you, okay?" He exhaled another cloud of smoke, fogging up Jessica's face as he leaned in dangerously close, lowering his voice as he spoke; "I don't want you or your cheerleaders, and I never will again. Never."

I was two seconds away from fainting out of sheer happiness-- my cheeks reddened. This was everything I had ever hoped to hear from him, and my anxieties floated out of my body with my next sigh of relief. I was ready to step into the kitchen and save Roman from this situation, hoping he'd be happy to see me now that he'd had this conversation about his feelings for me, but my plans were abruptly stopped when I heard a familiar voice call out my name.

My anxiety zapped itself right back into me as I froze to my spot, waiting for the wall to swallow me whole, never to be seen again. No, no, no!

I could only watch as Daniel approached me, giddy as ever with a beer in his hand. Were the Gods above playing tricks on me, perhaps? It was clear that he was drunk, and he tried to get his blonde hair out of his eyes repeatedly as he now stood before me, a broad grin on his face. "Well, don't you look nice," 

Why was he speaking so loudly? I was afraid Roman would hear and come out to check if his suspicions were correct. "Thanks," I mumbled, anxiously wavering back and forth on my feet as I pondered whether to flee or not. "Look, Daniel, you shouldn't--"

"What, talk to you?" He leaned down a little, his mood immediately shifting as he said my name once more like venom. It was clear in his eyes that he had come up to me with an argument in mind. "Don't tell me the rumours are true and you're actually with that guy?" 

Oh, how little I wanted to have this conversation. I so desperately didn't want to. Not with Roman at hearing distance. "Yeah, I am,"

Daniel snorted, rolling his eyes as he pulled back with a pretentious chuckle. With the way he was swaying, I could see that he'd had at least five beers or so. It explained the disgusting ramble of words that ensued; "Shit... Didn't think you were brainless like that. You're just a dumb fucking slut just like the rest of them, aren't you? Can't believe I ever thought you were different... Nice guys truly finish last, don't they?" 

Nice? I grimaced. Did this guy genuinely think he was nice? I was shocked to realize I even thought so of him at one point. My lips parted in shock; I hadn't heard him talk like this before. This was nauseating. Still, I knew I had to snap back-- I was about to speak up, protect myself unlike how I had handled myself during the whole Letha-mess, but I didn't get a chance to. 

I didn't even have to look to know who was now standing in the door to the kitchen, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. Roman's eyes narrowed, locking in on Daniel's with a chilling look; "What did you just say to her?" he said, voice low, dangerous.

Daniel's smirk was immediately wiped off his face. "Fuck-- Fuck off, Godfrey. This is none of your business," 

"None of my business?" Roman echoed, tilting his head to the side as he feigned confusion. "Nah, that's not how this is gonna go down." He stepped away from the door, nearing Daniel with threatening steps. "You get a little drunk, and suddenly forget you fucking crumble at the sight of me? You're shaking, Goldman, but you have balls enough to insult my girl?" 

Now that Roman had pointed it out, I immediately saw it. Daniel's hand had a slight tremble as he clutched the can of beer harder with his next words; "You know she could do so much better than you, right?"

I held my breath, watching Roman's every movement. At this point, I was scared Daniel had hit too big of a homerun on that insult. 

I wondered when Roman would-- oh, there it was. With one last step forward, he managed to yank Daniel forward with a choking grip around the collar of his shirt. I felt my breath escape me with a gasp, unsure whether to intervene or not. "Roman, don't!--"

It was too late. Roman wasn't hearing me. Selective hearing. "If you wanna go, Goldman, then we're gonna go!" he raged, tightening his grip as he yanked Daniel forward like a ragdoll. "Don't be a fucking pussy, fight me if you're so keen on walking around with a black eye!"

I was both mortified and scared as I watched Daniel's face turn a peculiar shade of purple. I had never seen such a prominent look of fear in my life. His hands were clawing at Roman's as he sputtered incoherent squeaks, and after five seconds too long, Daniel was let out of the death grip. It took even less time for him to sprint out of our sight. 

Roman turned to me, brows still drawn together in fury. He was catching his breath, and he was not yet out of fight mode when he practically barked at me; "And since when have you been at this stupid party?!" 

"Ask Peter!" I squeaked. "It was his plan, all of it! He wanted us to talk!" Watching the confusion spread in Roman's green eyes, I cleared my throat before I continued; "Actually, I want us to talk as well... Could we please just?--"

Within a split second, he was gone. Gone. I stood by the wall, lips parting in complete and utter confusion-- how had he managed to disappear like that? Run off like that? Suddenly, my mind shot in a passage from The Avoidable Vampirism;

The classic traits of a upir:

Enhanced strength

Heightened senses

Mesmerization

Unnatural speed

-- No, stop it! I had to physically smack my head to snap out of it this time. Roman wasn't a fucking upir, he was just in withdrawal as Peter said! 

... Right?

The alcohol was certainly not helping my state right now.

As I stood glued to the wall like the biggest wallflower known to man, I pondered the question that had haunted me all day; why was Roman so scared to talk to me? After I had heard how he spoke of me to Jessica, and how he had just called me his girl to Daniel along with the whole fight for my honour, it surely couldn't be a question of his feelings towards me?

This seemed to be an evening of many flashbacks; Letha's words were suddenly ringing in my ears-- "It usually helps to dig into what set him off. And then, when you think you have the answer, rip it apart and look through the pieces,"

... Fine. Let's start.

What had set him off? It was clearly that I didn't want to sleep with him last night, right?

Okay-- Now I had to rip it apart and look through the pieces.

"Aren't you breaking up with me?" he'd asked earlier today. Roman seemed genuinely confused that I wasn't there to dump him. Had he really expected me to discard of him so quickly over a simple miscommunication? 

Then it hit me that Roman might be crazy enough to have avoided me all along because he thought the next conversation would be the one where I'd finish the job. 

With a loud groan, I started my search around the party. Idiot! I was going to find this man no matter what. If I had to pin him down and scream some sense into him, so be it.

He wasn't downstairs— I could exclude that after a quick swipe of the floor. I somehow managed to make my way through the dense crowd on the stairs, now checking every room. To be honest, I was terrified of walking in on something I didn't want to see, but a tiny part of me thought it might even be good for me to see just a snippet-- I didn't know much about real sex, anyway. Still, I let out a relieved sigh when I scoured all the rooms without having violated my vision. 

But my relief didn't last long. I allowed my shoulders to slump as I came to a halt, realizing I had circled the upper floor with no trace of him. The deafening music was starting to hurt my ears, and I was about to cover them when I suddenly heard a loud bang coming from the closet to my right followed by a breathy, angry shit. 

Oh my. Gotcha. I approached the door with careful steps, holding back a beaming smile as I knocked twice; "Roman...?"

I heard him shuffling around, a short groan following; "... Nope," 

It took a lot of concentration to not burst out into a fit of laughter. It felt as though all my anger left my body, unable to concentrate on anything other than how ridiculously cute he was when he was drunk like this. "Can I come in?"

"... That's what he said,"

"Come in? I think you might've gotten it a little twisted,"

I could almost hear him rolling his eyes; "Who are you to argue, virgin?"

Enough was enough. With a small creak, I opened the door to the closet--

Oh.

This was certainly not the sight I expected to see. Roman's green eyes immediately found mine, big with embarrassment. There he was, splayed out on the floor of the tiny closet with a hot pink crop top on his head. I assumed it had landed on him after he fell over, and I tried to take a mental image for later amusement. 

I was about to laugh-- However, as I closed the door behind me and stared down at Roman's flushed face, almost the same colour as the ridiculous pink crop top, I just melted. Easy as that. All the pent-up anger, all the frustration I wanted to take out on him, it all liquified into molten lava and became one with the earth.

What a mess he was. What an absolute, utter mess. Roman's green eyes were big, huge even, as he stared up at me, his breath coming out in small, ragged heaves. He looked terrified of my next words, like he was bracing for a good verbal beating--

I crouched down, making space between his long legs that practically took up the whole closet. With careful movements, I pulled the crop top off his head and cupped his pretty face; "Rome," I cooed. "You thought I was going to break up with you?"

It felt like I was talking to a child. I was aware I risked Roman exploding on me for taking that tone with him, but I figured he was too drunk to really sense it. "Yeah," he breathed, keening against my touch. "Makes sense that you'd want to."

Fuck, he was unbearably cute, like a lost little puppy. "No, it doesn't," I murmured. Why was it so hard for him to understand? "I'm not breaking up with you. Is that why you've been avoiding me today? Were you worried I was going to do that?"

Almost like a child, Roman nodded. "I just... don't want to lose you. But I fucked up again," he whispered, practically pouting. "I was so mean. Last night and today."

I stroked my thumb over his cheek, watching his response to my attempts at comfort. Something told me he hadn't been held like this before. "Roman... You're not losing me any time soon, and you were obviously a little hurt too. I guess it's a... vulnerable thing to initiate. You're allowed to feel what you feel,"

"But it was wrong,"

"What was?"

"My feelings," he mumbled. "It's just-- I'm not used to caring about a girl like this. Previously, if I didn't get my way, I could leave with no repercussions. But this time, it hit me about ten minutes later on the highway that this was you and not some random girl. You. And I was just so consumed with the urge to... ugh, I don't want to say it out loud, but you know. It gets unbearable at times. I haven't wanted anyone like this before, I just don't know how the fuck to behave!"

I was sure my cheeks were burning. Holy fuck. "Ah... I see," My knees got tired from crouching, so I sat down on the little free space left on the floor. "Look, your feelings aren't wrong. They never are. Your feelings are your feelings. But what I don't get is that I told you I wasn't up for... sex simply because my parents were on the other side of the wall. I would totally be up for it if they weren't. Did you not register that, maybe?"

"I don't know, but... it's not really about the sex. I guess it got me wondering whether you're just a little shy, or if you secretly don't want to be with me anymore," Roman took my hands into his before his gaze shied away. His voice lowered into a barely audible whisper as he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the nearby wall; "You didn't once say you wanted me too. I guess I just concluded you didn't want me at all."

I fought the instinct to freeze. I saw his point, recognized his anxiety (and severe attachment issues), yet I needed to point out one very simple truth;  "But... I'm crazy about you. You know I want you,"

"No, I don't," he breathed. "You make me feel like a fucking rapist."

"A... What?!" I gave his hands a harsh squeeze-- "Roman, what are even you saying?"

He scoffed, eyeing me with his head still leaning against the wall. Hiccuping from all the alcohol, he spoke; "I'm always on you like a fucking dog in heat. You never initiate, and I'm constantly worrying whether I'm taking advantage or not. And to make that clear, that's not what I want to do,"

All of this was beyond shocking to hear. Was this maybe also the supposed withdrawal speaking? "Rome, you're not taking advantage. Not at all! I'm just... shy, I guess?" I brought one of his hands up to my mouth, pressing my lips against his knuckles. "I never thought you needed to hear me say it too. I'm sorry."

Surprisingly, Roman pouted-- "Say it, then," he whined. Had he been standing, I was sure he'd stomp his foot like a toddler.

I couldn't help but smile. I liked whiny-drunk Roman. "Say what, Rome?"

"Spit it out,"

"Would you stop running away from me then?"

"... Yes,"

I took a deep breath, suppressing a nervous giggle. Roman's green eyes drilled into me, holding me still as I tried to find the courage to say it to his face. It was nearly impossible, and I felt my cheeks flush a rather peculiar shade of pink, similar to Roman's alcohol-flush. And also the hot pink crop top. I was definitely stealing that one.

I let go of Roman's hands, crawling over to straddle his lap. My arms draped around his neck, and he shifted as he looked up at me with those gorgeous, green eyes of his. My Roman. "You already know I'm crazy about you,"

"Yeah, you tree-carving freak," 

"Hey!" Now, it was impossible not to laugh. Thankfully, he laughed with me. "But sure, I'll take it. I carved our initials into a tree, and I'd do it all over again. And you know why?"

Roman's eyes practically sparkled; "Why?"

I lowered my face to hover right above his, feeling his hot breath against my parted lips. "Because I crave you. Carnally," I whispered, watching his pupils rapidly widen. "What am I if not yours? Yours to take, yours to claim, yours to... fuck."

Roman's signature smirk was back, shinier than ever. "Now, now, don't be shy with it," he purred, his arms snaking around my waist to pull me flush against him. "Say more."

Fucking hell. There was certainly no space to hold back any longer. "Yeah, you want more?" I had to bite back a smirk of my own. "Don't be a fucking brat, then. Kiss me if you do."

Roman's eyes widened, not expecting me to say anything remotely close to that. Still, his lips parted as his smirk morphed into a blinding grin. With one smooth move, he ran one hand up into my hair, pulling me in for the shortest, sweetest kiss known to man. "I'm impatient," he said. "Go on."

"Brat," It felt nice to finally say that out loud. From the first time I had a proper conversation with him, that word had been stuck in my mind. 

Roman rolled his eyes, letting me laugh into the needy kiss that followed. It didn't take long before I melted, relishing in the soft pillows of his lips against mine, the feeling I had longed for ever since he stormed off my roof last night. "I want you," I said, mouthing my words into the kiss. "So bad. So, so bad."

Roman moaned-- "More,"

My hands went up into his hair, fingers reaching for the tips of his dark locks to press him further against me as the kiss deepened. I had never felt this desperate before in my life. Still, I somehow found the strength to pull away; I got an idea. "No. We're playing a little game first,"

Roman groaned, glaring at me as he rested his head against the wall. "For fuck's sake," he mumbled. "Now?"

"Now," I placed my hands on his chest, unable to hold my laugh. My little idea was genius. "Have you noticed where we are?"

"... At a party?"

"Where?"

"In a closet?--" Roman's words came to a halt as his eyes widened, and a knowing grin spread across his plush lips. "Oh my."

I hummed, pressing my fingers into his chest. Right now, I was sure I had adopted the classic Roman-smirk; "Up for a round of seven minutes in heaven?"

"... Isn't it a little blasphemous to play without the bottle?" Roman proceeded to laugh, rubbing circles into my thighs. "Actually, fuck yeah. I’m up for it.”

"Seven minutes," I purred, grabbing my phone and putting on a timer. "You once said that seven minutes with you were enough to show everything I needed to know about being with you in that way..." 

To be honest, I had no idea what had come over me. Was it perhaps the alcohol? But the intrigue shimmering in Roman's keen eyes told me all I needed to know-- I watched his pupils expand as the hands I had rested against his chest started traveling down his body. And Jessica thought I couldn't handle him sexually? Hah! "It seems it's my turn to show how it would be with me, no?" 

Roman's lips parted, staring up at me in disbelief; "If you're just teasing me now, I'm going to die on the spot. I swear. My death will be on your hands,"

I could only laugh, biting down on my lip to lower my voice. "Don't you dare," I said, slowly reaching for the clasp of his belt. 

Watching the widening of Roman's big, green eyes never failed to amuse me, especially not now. "Baby," he breathed, his lips curving into a smile. "Don't fuck with me, I swear--"

"Am not," After unbuckling Roman's belt, I decided to tease him by trailing my hands away from the zip of his pants, my fingers ghosting over his hard-on. It seemed the excitement was getting to him already, and to my surprise, I could feel him hardening beneath my palms. 

The loud music was so far away now, just as everything else was-- My mind was even further away, possibly residing on the planet Neptune, because how the hell had I managed to convince myself I knew how to do this? 

Fuck it-- it can't be that hard, right?

Certainly not harder than Roman was now, anyway. 

This was an enigma to me, all of it. I could only go off instinct; and just as I was about to slide my hand beneath the band of his boxers, Roman grabbed my hand. "Hold on," he breathed, bringing my palm to his lips. "Step one is to never go anywhere dry." His green eyes locked on mine, not breaking eye contact as he placed several wet kisses against my palm, slicking it. Shivers ran down my spine as I felt his tongue swipe along my skin, because fuck, this was intense-- my breath hitched. Roman's soft laugh rang in my ears as he let go of my hand, giving back the control. 

Fuck. My heart was pounding. Were my hands shaking? I had no idea-- it felt as though I had blacked out for a few seconds, and when Roman pulled me into a heated kiss and brought me back to my senses, my fingers were gently brushing against the hard tip of his cock. 

I could feel Roman's breath hitch just slightly against my lips, and it immediately made my cheeks burn. What the fuck was I doing? I so desperately hoped no one would walk in on us like this, me straddling him with his dick in my hand. That would certainly only taint my reputation further-- no, actually, fuck that. I wanted to stay connected like this forever, Roman's soft lips moving against mine with a need I didn't remember in him. 

It took a lot of willpower to break the kiss even just for a second, but it was too damn fucking dark in this stupid closet. I watched as Roman's lashes fluttered, how his chest raised in heaving motions, how the vial of my blood rested against the peak of his sternum-- I decided to go for the wish to kiss him right there. 

Roman's skin was so unbelievably soft. There was no flavour to it as I swiped my tongue against his collarbone, not even a trace of alcohol from his perfume, and this was the moment it dawned on me that this might be my favourite place to kiss him. I didn't often have access, but when I did, I could feel the soft raise of his shoulders with his every breath-- and fuck, how I loved his shoulders. I finally wrapped my fingers around his length, deciding not to toy with him any longer. 

He let out a shaky breath just as I sucked down on his collarbone to leave a mark; Roman was long gone now. His head lolled to the side, his breath escaping him with a short huff. "Fuck," he whispered, bringing his hand up to twist into the nape of my neck, pulling me away from him to press the soft pillows of his mouth against mine in another hot, needy kiss.

This was certainly a big difference to the last time we had played this game. We had barely kissed properly, and our lips had only grazed each other compared to whatever this was. I couldn't believe how unbelievably scared I had been the first time.

I smiled into the kiss, remembering our first. 

Roman cursed against my lips, his hips bucking just slightly into my grip around his cock. With his free hand, he placed his on top of mine, guiding me to pick up my pace.

I realized my heart was almost thumping to the exact same pace as the music downstairs-- "Is this okay?" I whispered, relishing in the short breaths of pleasure spilling from his mouth.

Roman shot me a look, although it didn't look as intimidating as he probably intended; with his lids halfway closed, the hunger for me shone through. "You know damn well,"

It was impossible not to smile. God, I was so crazy about this man. "Rome?"

A hum.

I leaned in closer, pressing a sweet kiss against his ear; "I want you so bad," I whispered, feeling his breath hitch as I kissed down his jaw. "I need you to know that. Rome, I always want you." Never in a million years did I think I'd ever see him like this, panting beneath me, pre-cum spilling from the slit of his cock. Never in my wildest dreams. But he had driven me near mad with his stupidity these past twenty-four hours, so I had no problem bringing him down to the depths of vulnerability with me-- finally, we had switched places.

Roman's hands traveled up my thighs, giving my ass a proper squeeze as he groaned just slightly; "Want you too," he breathed, letting his head rest against the wall as I worked my digits around his length. His lips parted, his eyes shut as his lashes fluttered just slightly; "Always. Always want— hah, want you. You know me."

Had I not been so taken with the sheer beauty of him right now, I would've swooned. I was shocked I hadn't fainted from how hard my heart was beating, anyway. "I adore you, Rome. Do you know that?"

A small yeah was Roman's only reply, his head rolling back and forth, thighs clenching, cock twitching. He was close. His next words were rushed, quick; "Fuck, where do I...? Fuck--" 

"Don't think about it," I murmured, my free hand running gently through his hair. Slowly, I reached for the pink crop top nearby; this was my only solution at the moment. "Just enjoy."

Roman practically whimpered; "Shit, shit, gonna--"

I watched as he threw his head back, panting hard as he spilled into the top. I felt his warm cum running down the inside of it as I stroked him through his high. "Fuck, fuck--" Roman was rambling at this point, failing to steady his breath through it.

My lips parted, feeling as though I had bitten into the forbidden fruit. The image before me gave me a high, unlike anything I had ever had before. It was probably similar to the feeling Roman used to achieve through cocaine use. I took another quick mental snapshot, knowing this was a sight I wanted to keep for later-- only in case of emergencies, of course. I couldn't help but feel a little proud that I had figured out how to do this stuff to him.

Roman blinked twice, his mind slowly returning to his body. He laughed a little at the sight of the hot pink crop top, shaking his head. "Damn," he breathed. "I'm a little horrified I didn't last seven minutes."

Oh, silly boy-- "Nah, I'm glad you didn't. My hand would be cramping up," I leaned forward with a soft giggle, kissing the tip of Roman's nose as he let out a sigh of relief. "And I also proved my damn point."

He blinked up at me as I pulled away. "Which was...?"

The timer rung-- "Seven minutes are more than enough," 

"Right. That's my line," Roman tucked himself back into his jeans with a huff, laughing softly in a state of denial. "Definitely didn't expect this tonight... Good job." The corners of his mouth slowly curved upwards as he placed a sweet kiss against my cheek. "I'm just so damn glad we're not breaking up."

I had forgotten about that situation for a few minutes, and being reminded of it again was like being slapped out of a nap. "Of course we're not, Roman," I kissed the tip of his nose as I rolled up the crop top-- that felt wrong on all accounts. "If you get all manic about something like that again, please don't shut me out. I nearly went mad."

Roman's pupils dilated further as he reached for the vial of my blood around his neck, twirling it around his finger. "Yeah, we can't break up... Or else that poor tree would've been vandalized for nothing,"

I rolled my eyes. He was never going to let that go, was he? "Alright, that's enough," I mumbled, watching as Roman brought the vial to his lips to press a short kiss against my blood-- it felt odd but intimate. Was he maybe still a little drunk? "Let's get you home, okay? I'll drive your car." With shaky steps, I got up from his lap, bunching up the crop top in one hand. 

Roman hiccuped-- drunk. It was confirmed. "I don't want to," he whined. 

"Come on, Rome, we can't stay in this cramped up fucking closet all night!--"

"Well, what are you gonna do? Throw me over your shoulder and carry me downstairs?"

For fuck's sake. It was impossible not to laugh at that mental image. "We can't stay here any longer! Peter's gonna think we're fucking somewhere, and I certainly don't want to be known as the girl that has sex at parties!--"

"My mom is out of town," Roman said, effectively cutting me off. "Sleep over."

My eyes widened. I knew what that meant. Clutching the damp crop top in my hand, I felt the green of his gaze swallow me whole; "Come on. It'll be fun," Roman got up from the floor, tilting his head a little as he slowly inched forward, making my back hit the wall with the two only steps there were possible to take in this closet. He continued; "Nothing has to happen, but I just... I want to roll around in bed with you in the morning. No interruptions, no parents, nothing. Just us."

I was shocked I didn't become a puddle of mush on the floor. "Just us?"

"Just us," Roman breathed, leaning down to press a short kiss against my lips. But what came next was unexpected; "... And my pet tarantula."

"What?!"

Roman only laughed, his pupils widening with pleasure at the sight of my terror. Some things never change. "Just kidding, baby," he purred, placing a hand on the small of my back as he opened the closet door. And before I had the chance to properly step out of it, he leaned down to whisper against my ear; "It's actually a giant centipede. Lovely pet."

I nearly squirmed out of his grip, shivering. "Please tell me you're joking!" 

Seriously, when will I ever learn? Roman continued to laugh, waving to a few people who passed us by in the corridor as we walked down the hall. "Of course I am,"

"I'm not leaving with you if you have some creepy animal there, I swear!"

"Fine, fine!" He kissed the top of my head, and I felt him smile against my hair. "There are no scary animals there... Just me."

Before I had the opportunity to answer, Roman groaned loudly as he glanced at the crowded stairs when we approached, rolling his eyes. "Ugh, why do people always crowd the goddamn stairs?" He turned back to me; "I just need to find Peter and swipe my keys--"

"Why does he have your keys?"

"... I was threatening to jam them into the side of this guy's head earlier, but that's not important," Roman shot me a charming smile as though he hadn't just said that. "But just hold onto me, okay? I'll wade us through." 

So that's what I did; I clutched onto Roman's hand, feeling his long fingers wrapping around mine as he made way through the crowd, occasionally turning to greet a few people he knew. I was so damn ready to get to his place, to lie down on a bed, and get away from this loud music. Still, a part of me knew we wouldn't be able to stay away from each other tonight, and I felt my chest swell with warmth at the thought of what might happen. What would happen.

But just as I was finally relaxed again and the two of us almost made it down the stairs, I felt another hand on my shoulder the same second Roman turned away to say hi to a friend of his. I turned, gasping just slightly at the shock of a cold touch, and the rest of my breath followed as it dawned on me who I was facing. 

Letha's green eyes were wide, almost as though she had seen a ghost. For a second there, I thought she could read my mind and understand why I was clutching onto a damp crop top. It was still warm-- why was I finding that hot right now? God, I was going insane. But I knew that the sight of Roman and I together would never be a pleasant one for Letha, so I stared back at her with the same bewilderment-- why had she stopped me? 

Letha's following words were almost icy to the touch, hollow to the ear; "Was I right?" 

It felt as though my world stilled. Time stilled. Just for a second, I felt as though I could wade my free hand through the coldness of her phrase, and I could wave away the mirage. She was concerned, curious. Had she genuinely wanted to help me get through this fight with Roman? 

I realized that tonight might be a night of many firsts. My first handjob, my first... time (possibly), and my first step of forgiveness. "Yeah," I breathed. "You were. Thank you." 

Letha's face softened as a relieved sigh escaped her, nodding her head slowly. It had been a long time since the last time she had heard those words from me. "Any time," 

Had Roman not squeezed my hand, I was sure I'd continue standing there, just staring into the eyes of my previous best friend. They looked so, so similar-- Had Letha not been blonde, I would've mistaken them for siblings. Snapping out of it, I turned to my boyfriend who was too busy scowling at his cousin to notice how calm I was about meeting her. "Let's go," he mumbled, repressed jealousy dripping from his voice as another squeeze of my fingers ensued. 

"Yeah... Let's,"

(a/n: thank you so so much for reading!!! here's PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, and PART 10 if you're interested<333 mwah!!)

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