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ficoandleo · 8 months ago

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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.

#present: leo #posting: leo #leo kurosagi #answers #str8upjorkinit #((THIS IS SO LATE BUT I ZONED OUT FOR SO MUCH OF YESTERDAY THAT IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO WRITE IT))#((like i started about 13 hours ago and i kept spacing out i think i forgot one of my meds the other night lmao. . . .))#((ANYWAY. THIS FEELS LONG AND I DON'T EVEN DESCRIBE EVERYTHING HE PUT ON. Sorry to disappoint haha))#((i wish i could draw because i've had the image in my head for like a week))#((anyway it is 3am now and it is also november now lol))

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gender-euphowrya · 2 years ago

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

#like. damn #first of all bro shouldn't have died that quickly from just 3 fucking nails #second WHAT #why did johnny appear to like. take a moment of silence gkfjfk #christian icon johnny silverhand GKJFKF #no but genuinely this was so fucked to watch like. i had to go do a stealth gig after that shit to like cleanse my mind gkfjfkf #i played it yesterday night and i was thinking I'll just finish the jesus quest and go to sleep but like #i couldn't just go to bed with That image in my head what What

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blackenedsnow · 6 months ago

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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.

#shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow the hedgehog fanfic #shadow x reader #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic fanfiction #x reader #ask #fanfic #request #oneshot

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sparklingchim · 8 months ago

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game on 02 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x oc

word count: 3.4k

tropes: 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 easier 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

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

"Just kiss me."

"Hold on a second."

"We really need to practise this."

"I know, just give me a minute."

Never in your life did you think you'd end up in a situation like this with your childhood best friend, Jungkook.

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 in the railings 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. (Honestly, you’re still lowkey thinking this is all just prank).

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 is 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 could feel Taesung’s gaze crawl over you – measuring, judging, already unsure. Across the table, Jungkook’s PR agent tilted her head, doubt written all over her perfectly lined face. They didn’t even try to hide it. The shared glances, the slight frown, the silence stretching a little too long. It all made your skin prickle.

Jungkook wasn’t Jungkook unless things bent in his favor.

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, his tone clipped, like he’d given this speech a hundred times. “When it started, who made the first move, all of it. The media’s going to pick this apart, and if your stories don’t align, it’ll be obvious.”

He moved on without missing a beat, outlining expectations for your public behaviour, how to handle fan reactions, and the kind of attention you’d be facing now. It was all about control. Controlling the narrative, the headlines, the way people looked at you when they saw you standing next to Jungkook, now as a girlfriend and just a friend anymore.

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. A second time.

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, in turn, 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. "Were you 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.

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.

Which is why, of course, you end up exactly there – couch, snacks, and him.

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

You try to push him away by the shoulder, 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 stuck 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."

1K notes · View notes

amoressb · 6 months ago

Text

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 !!

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mononijikayu · 6 months ago

Text

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.

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.”

420 notes · View notes

leonalovesalot · 1 month ago

Text

Freaky on camera III

Brother’sBestFriend!ArtDonaldson x Camgirl!Reader

18+ MinorsDNI

wc: 3.8k

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Art didn't watch your live session on Friday, or the following Tuesday.

He couldn't.

He needed to force the image of your fingers penetrating your sopping pussy out of his mind. This was proving to be a challenge because every time he closed his eyes, that's all he saw.

This couldn't continue on like this because he was going back home on Wednesday, right after his last exam. Patrick cleared out the entire day and Art knew they'd hang out at his place. Patrick's house. Where you also lived, of course.

Usually when Art came home for a break, Patrick's parents would invite him over for dinner. Everyone sits around the table and shares anecdotes of their lives over the last few months. It was always a pleasant time for him.

The same thing was going to happen this time, except Art would be pressing down his raging boner. He knew that was a possibility and to take precaution, he was doing a "Y/N cleanse". No more tuning into your videos, no more jerking off to your memory. He couldn't just eliminate jerking off altogether because, well, he's not a robot! So he decided that every time his thoughts wandered to you while his hand was around his cock, he'd stop. This would force himself to think of someone else. Like, Kat Zimmerman - who was proving to be a somewhat satisfying substitute so far.

The days and nights went on this way and Art felt like a zombie. Unfeeling, exhausted, and dragging himself from one place to another with no emotion behind his eyes

He couldn't help but wonder if you noticed his absence. Did you miss him like you said you did? Or were you just saying that because you knew it's what he wanted to hear?

To Art's dismay, the dreaded Wednesday arrived and it was time to face his anxieties head on. He handed in his last exam and began his drive home. It was only a two hour journey and was usually enjoyable because he could roll down the windows and listen to his favourite songs. But this time? He didn't know what to listen to. Everyone was always singing about sex! And that's the one thing he was trying now to think of! He ended up clicking a random podcast which discussed the myths of menopause. No chance of getting a hard-on there.

Parking the car in his parent's driveway, he gets out and grabs his duffel bag and suitcase out of the backseat. Art's parents walk out of the front door and greet him with tight hugs and loud smooches on his cheek. He laughs shyly and his Dad takes his bags from him and carries them inside.

"How was your drive? I'm surprised, I thought it would take a little longer," Art's mom asks as she walks him up the driveway with her arm loosely around his waist.

"Yeah, there wasn't much traffic today. And I finished my exam early so," Art shrugs.

"Because it was easy or because you rushed it?" Art's dad chuckles as he walks into the house.

Art rolls his eyes, "the former."

Art's mom ruffles his hair, "my smart boy."

They all walk further into the house and Art plops down on the couch in the living room. His Dad drops his things off in his bedroom while his Mom brings him a glass of lemonade. Art takes it and mutters a 'thank you'.

His parents join him in the living room and they sit around asking him questions about how the semester went. Art missed his parents and he responded to each question with lengthy answers.

"Oh, speaking of tennis, Patrick is back from tour. They came by yesterday for dinner, actually." Art's Dad chimes in.

"Oh, really?" Art nods. Who was included in the 'they'?

"Yeah, his parents were pretty adamant that you go over to their's tonight too." Art's mom smiles. She always adored the boys' friendship. Patrick was the brother Art never had.

"I know, I told Patrick I'd be there at around like seven," Art takes a sip of his lemonade.

"Okay, I have a casserole dish his mother lent me a while ago. Remember to take it with you when you go." His Mom stands up and walks over to the kitchen to grab it.

Later that evening, Art stood in front of his bathroom mirror picking apart his appearance. He was never too self-conscious about his looks, but right now he was trying his best to appear… well, handsome. It wasn’t working—his curly blonde hair sprang in all directions, which was making him look boyish. He groans and runs his hands through his locks for the thousandth time only to give up. He wore a light salmon button up with jeans and sneakers. He felt like a middle-schooler dressing up for a first date.

Why was he thinking like this?

This was a dinner with Patrick and his family.

Not you, alone.

He was there for Patrick.

Not you.

He takes a deep breath, sprays on a couple spurts of perfume, and walks out of the house, casserole dish in hand.

Patrick's house was much bigger than Art's. It was just down the road, but the actual house sat far back from the street, down a long driveway. The entrance was gated and hidden by large bushes and trees, designed to spark curiosity in passersby about how luxuriously the family might be living—which was entirely intentional.

Art slipped in the smaller door next to the gate and walks up the driveway. He takes note of the two cars in the driveway. One for his Mom, one for his Dad. You and Patrick shared a car but he didn't see it in the driveway, or outside on the street. He hoped that maybe you weren't home but knew you probably just parked in the garage.

He walks up the porch stairs and is about to ring the doorbell, when the door flies open and Patrick jumps out to hug him. Art gasps in surprise.

"I'm gonna drop your mom's casserole dish, dude!"

"Fuck the casserole dish, I haven't seen you in months, Donaldson." Patrick had basically climbed into Art's arms, legs wrapped around his bottom and everything. They laughed and he eventually lets go and grabs the dish from Art.

"How've you been? How was the drive?" Patrick keeps an arm slung around Art's shoulder as he walks him into the kitchen, placing the dish on the counter.

"Good, yeah. I'm just kinda tired though." Art answers honestly while subtly surveying the house for any sight of you.

"Not too tired for a little," Patrick brings his index finger and thumb up to his puckered lips and blows a little air out, "I hope?"

Art smiles softly, "that goes without saying."

They catch up and Art found it surprisingly easy to talk to Patrick. He wasn't drowning in guilt like he thought he would. Every conversation with Patrick felt like no time had passed, which was a big help. He laughed for the first time in a long time and it felt so good. So fucking good. Something about the Zweig genes pulled him in like a magnet. He always felt right at home.

Patrick's mom calls out to tell the boys to come down for dinner. They walk into the dining room, pausing their conversation so Art can greet Patrick's parents. They exchange pleasantries and sit down to eat the dinner before it gets cold. Art noticed that there was still no sign of you, which filled him with relief and disappointment all at once.

Then, he hears soft footsteps descend down the stairs and Art closes his eyes knowing he got comfortable too soon.

"Y/N, your dinner is getting cold, come sit." Patrick's Dad looks past Art to you who was walking in behind him.

"Coming."

Art twitches at the sound of your voice. He didn't realize how much he missed it. He had heard it carry the dirtiest words and the thought of that makes him close his eyes praying that he thinks of something else.

Kat Zimmerman.

Kat Zimm-

"Art, hey! How are you?" You walk to your spot at the dining table across from him but on the way there, you pat his shoulder. A cute and friendly gesture which catches him off guard.

His eyes follow you as you sit down and tuck your hair behind your ears. He realizes he hadn't responded to your question and clears his throat.

"Hey, yeah- uhm- good. I'm good." Art nods and stares down at the side salad and stuffs it in his mouth.

You don't bat an eye. Your greeting was just a formality, anyway. You turn your attention to the conversation your parents were having about the business trip they'd be taking soon. Meeting with a client in Toronto for a few days - nothing out of the ordinary.

Art continued shoving food in his mouth, trying to ignore you. Everything that he barely noticed before, was now more fascinating and inviting than ever. The way your hair fell so perfectly down to your shoulders; it looked so soft, he was itching to run his hands through it. Your eyes were so kind and full of interest in everyone around you. Your gaze seldom landed on him, which used to be normal—but now, it was infuriating. He had made you cum for fuck's sake! You said you wanted to taste him! And you sit there, eating, acting like nothing happened.

Art knew it was irrational because you didn't know it was him. But, still, you were a cam-girl. How were you being so normal about all this? Eating dinner with your family as if last night, you weren't fucking yourself for strangers on the internet.

He wanted to hint that he knew. He wanted you to figure it out. He wanted you to be scared. He didn't really know where this thought came from, suddenly. Maybe he just didn't want to be the only one at this dinner table who was facing this inner turmoil.

"- Oh, Art can help you with that," Art's ears perk up when he hears his name from Patrick's mouth. He pauses his face-stuffing and looks up with drops of salad dressing on the corner of his lips.

"Pardon?" Art asks. He swallows quickly and wipes his mouth with a napkin.

"Y/N was saying that she doesn't know where to find textbooks for her courses. Weren't you also struggling with that before?" Patrick nudges him.

Art looks to Patrick and then to you, finally.

You notice he was acting a little weird tonight. Usually he was talkative, but right now he was silent. Not that you cared all that much. The way he was looking at you was also a little out of the ordinary. Like there was something he wanted to say...?

"Oh, yeah." Art nods, "there's this website I use that has all of them. I can show you later."

You nod and your lips formed a soft smile (which he was familiar with because you had that same smile when he was telling you that you deserved to be spoiled - it wasn't the exact same though because, you were flushed from an orgasm that time, of course), "Oh, okay. Yes, please."

Oh my God, you were actually talking to him. Art feels the urge to stir the pot a little.

"Yeah, of course. It's a big help, I mean I use it all the time. My friend Dan showed it to me." Art studied your expression closely, craving a reaction. Maybe a subtle brow raise? Or a twitch of your lips.

He got nothing.

You just nodded and smiled politely at him.

Ugh.

The conversations continued on without needing Art's contribution.

He was getting comfortable now and began taking small glimpses at you any chance he got. The few times you caught him looking, you'd just divert your gaze away from him.

It made him wonder if he made you nervous. He wanted to.

When dinner comes to an end, you help your parents pick up the dishes. Art is about to assist you, but Patrick pulls him away for a smoke.

They walk into Patrick's backyard and sit by the pool. Patrick excitedly pulls a cigarette and lighter out of his pocket and puts it between his lips. He lights it and takes a puff.

Art just stares out at the pool- the water calming him.

"So, you get a girlfriend yet?" Patrick exhales and hands Art the cigarette.

Art takes it and also takes a puff, "if I had, you'd know."

Patrick chuckles, "I'm just surprised, man. I mean I get busy on tour too but going even a week without getting laid like - I'd go feral. I don't know how you do it."

Art snickers and gives the cigarette back to Patrick. He wasn't ecstatic about the topic but didn't want to avoid it, incase it raised suspicion.

"I don't think I have time for a girlfriend, though." Art was just trying to say anything at this point.

"Me neither. But- like- when was the last time you had a good fuck? Like really good?"

Art's smile fades slightly. It had been a while.

He shakes his head. Patrick takes the hint and drops the topic.

"Maybe, you're like Y/N," Patrick says after a few quiet seconds.

Art snaps his head in his direction, "what?"

Patrick shrugs, "she doesn't have a boyfriend and she seems pretty," he takes a long drag, "content."

Art wonders if that's really true—not the part about your love life, or lack thereof, but whether you were actually happy. He decides that the attention you get from all those strangers—all that validation—well, that’s enough to make anyone feel good, right?

Art tries his best to sound casual when he responds, "really? No boyfriend?"

Patrick nods, "yeah. I mean not that I know of." He laughs and coughs out, "Or, who knows? Maybe she bats for the same team."

Art knows that's not true.

It was almost midnight and Art and Patrick were all talked out. The pair reach the end of their shared cigarette and wipe their hands on themselves. The strong smell was still present, but they were too zen to care.

"You're staying the night, right?" Patrick asks as he begins walking towards the house.

"Am I?" Art follows after slowly, with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Yes, you have no choice," Patrick turns and shoots him a smile.

They make a beeline for Patrick's bedroom and flop onto his bed, turning on the TV right away. Putting on a rerun of American Dad, Patrick gets up to toss Art a pair of shorts and a t-shirt for him to sleep in.

"Thanks," Art mutters, staring at the TV.

"Uh huh," Patrick plops back down. He was already wearing shorts and takes off his shirt to get comfortable.

Art's eyes flicker to him and then back to the TV.

After a few minutes he gets up with a sigh and leaves his room to go change in the bathroom. On his walk, down the hall, he passes your room and stops in his tracks.

He wasn't thinking clearly. Feelings of anger��because of that great act you had put on at dinner—and confusion—because, well, you were definitely not just Patrick’s sister to him anymore—swirled inside him.

His hand is reaching up to knock on your door before his mind can stop him and push him away toward the bathroom.

Inside, you were laying on your bed, reading your first book of the summer with the music of your 'cigarettes after sex' vinyl filling the silence of the night. The window was wide open and the ceiling fan was on at the lowest setting. You wore loose pyjama shorts and an off-shoulder baby pink tee.

You flinch when you hear a knock. Your brows furrow and you get off your bed, confused. You thought everyone was asleep.

You reach the door and before you can open it, it pushes open on its own. You step back as Art comes into view. Art?

"Oh, hey. What's up?" You smile softly at him.

Art felt like this was the moment the past two-ish weeks of his life was leading up to. You stood before him in all your beauty; in all your shapeliness. He tried his best to keep his eyes away from your bare legs as he knew it would drive him over the edge. Your exposed shoulder was already making him feel hot. God, he was freaking out over your fucking shoulder? What an absolute loser.

"Art? Did you need something?" You tilt your head, wondering why he wasn't saying anything.

Art snaps out of his thoughts and clears his throat, "oh- yeah. I- uhm - you wanted me to show you where to get the textbooks?"

You nod in realization, "oh! Of course, come in." You turn and walk over to your desk and open your laptop. His lack of self control had his eyes wandering down your back, then your ass, and your legs. Oh my God.

He watches you open your laptop and nods to himself that it was probably what you used to film yourself. He looks around the room, it felt like he was on a film set. He was a total creep.

"Here," You swivel your laptop on the desk with a new tab open. He places his change of clothes down on your bed and walks towards the desk. He was so close to you now. You stood next to him- so calm- if only you knew.

Art types in the URL and shows you how to navigate the site. You leaned in closely, paying attention to the screen and nodding at every thing he was saying. He could smell you—could tell you’d taken a shower not too long ago, all soapy and clean.

But that strange mixture of emotions he was feeling began bubbling up again. A flip switches inside him and he decides to test the waters. He wanted to see how long you'd go putting on this innocent fucking act. It was sickening now. He didn't want to be the only one feeling like he was doing a bad deed. You should've been more shamefaced than him- you were the cam-girl after all!

"So, do you wanna make an account?" He turns to you and asks.

Your eyes flick up to him and you nod, "yes, please."

Art accidentally glances down at your lips and then back to the screen and clicks on the 'Sign up' button.

The website asks him to create a username, he feels a rush of adrenaline inside.

"What do you want your username to be?" Before you get the chance to respond, he adds, "it doesn't have to be your name. Could be anything—like, uh, SchoolSucks—"

You smile, amused.

"—uh, TeamJacob—"

You tilt your head and giggle softly.

"—or something more simple, like Roxy."

Your smile instantly drops. You're not stupid. Your mind flashes back to that dinner table conversation—when he mentioned his friend Dan. It sounded unnatural, and yes, your thoughts did jump to your most generous viewer. But you shrugged it off, thinking it was nothing. But this? This was too specific.

After a few seconds you hesitantly speak up, "I think just my name is fine."

He had you right where he wanted. "You sure? Come on, that's no fun," he sounded so fucking smug.

"I'm sure," your whole demeanour changed. You felt a knot in your stomach. You wanted him out.

He shrugs and types in your name and adds a '96' behind it. He smirked to himself feeling proud of that.

That pretty much confirmed your suspicion. You stared at the screen, taking shallow breaths, as you chewed up the inside of your lip.

He faces the laptop towards you, "password."

You bring your trembling hands to the keyboard and type in quickly. You knew he was watching, but him knowing your password was the last of your worries.

Art noticed the tremor in your hands which only made him feel more powerful.

When you finish typing, he takes the laptop again and clicks a few things to finish up your account. You didn't say anything, just stared down at your desk, wishing the floor would swallow you whole.

Art shuts the laptop making you flinch. He had his fun and was about to leave when you spoke up.

"You know," you say quietly, feeling small and weak—an unfamiliar feeling.

Art stops and turns back to look at you, "I know."

You felt your face getting hot, "how?"

Art chuckles and shakes his head, "doesn't matter."

You were shocked to your core. You knew him for years and he'd never once acted this way. It freaked you out. It was a contrast from his sweet and bright appearance. It made you nauseous.

"What do you want, then?" You wet your lips noticing how dry they'd gotten.

Art pauses and wonders. What did he want? He never even thought of that. He suddenly felt unprepared for this conversation. He didn't know what he wanted. Where could this go? All he knew was that he wanted you to be a part of his life. He didn't want to be an acquaintance anymore. He wanted to be more to you. And he'd take it in any form he could. Even if he had to blackmail it out of you.

But how? How would he keep you around? Maybe he could use this information to make you do things for him. Every time he comes home for the break, you could be there please him. Going an entire semester without getting his rocks off would be so fucking worth it, if he knew he could use you.

Fuck, when did he begin thinking like this? You weren't a toy. You were a person; a woman who deserved his respect. He couldn't whore you out for himself!

He decided on another, more tame, idea. It would be a placeholder, until he figured out what it is he really wanted.

"Split your earnings with me. Seventy-thirty." Art studies you closely, now shamelessly looking you up and down. He had the upper hand, after all.

Your eyes widen as you gasp out, "excuse me?"

"You should be thankful that I'm not demanding half," he bites back.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. What a pig. What a greedy pig. Your shock now accompanied by pure rage. Your throat felt tight and your eyes sting as they fill with hot tears.

"I'm not scared of you." You were basically shaking now.

Art stares back, not backing down at the sight of your tears. If anything, he was getting a little turned on.

"You should be, Y/N."

.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._

This is now the longest thing I've written.

Basically no smut but heavy on the plot because I. Love. Dialogue.

Thank you for reading!!

Tags <3: @won-every-lottery @improbablynotpoppy @challenger-fan-club @x0teric @theynothem @bigsattirn @coolgirlsyndrome

#challengers fic #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #had the time of my life writing this

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pitchsidestories · 7 months ago

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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

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faestunna · 6 days ago

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stack x reader with newborn baby girl

baby girl

PAIRING: elias (stack) moore x reader

WC: 836

WARNINGS: mentions of pregnancy, sibling loss, angst if you squint, otherwise fluff!

A/N: this is like a combo of modern!stack and he’s still a vampire but it’s not mentioned? @hatethysinner recently posted a papa!remmick fic that put me in my feels and sorta inspired this, go check it out!!

masterlist

You wake to a gentle humming.

It’s still pitch-black. So late that not even the crickets chirp in the bushes outside your window. The night sky will fade into a pleasant mirage of orange and pink in a few hours, but for now, the world sleeps.

Except for you. And the sound coming from the corner of your room. Your eyes tiredly blink open, but your body doesn’t stir underneath the sheets. Even in the dark, you can see the outline of Elias swaying in the rocking chair. And in his big arms lies the most precious thing in your life.

He doesn’t notice that he’d woken you up; you make no attempt to reveal yourself. Instead, a warm smile appears on your face at the sight of him holding your sweet girl.

You liked to think she had your eyes, maybe even your nose or hair, but the truth was that she was her daddy’s spitting image.

“She’s gon’ be beautiful, just like her mama,” Elias had told you almost every day of your pregnancy. It’d only been two days since he took you home from the hospital and insisted that you stay in bed.

It was almost unreal to have her bundled in your arms. He’d kiss her nose, then yours, and say how he loved both his girls more than anything in the world.

He wears the sweater you got him for Christmas years ago; you remember it like it was yesterday. You’d dreamed of having this life with him, but never had you though it’d come true.

And now, it was right in front of you.

“Mornin’, babygirl,” he pauses his singing once she stirs and her eyes peek open. Elias rubs the soft curve of her head with his thumb.

“Gave your mama some trouble, didn’t you?” He gently bounces her and continues rocking almost rhythmically. A small chuckle comes deep from his chest. “Seeing her cry when she had you—God, I don’t think there’s anything worse. But we waited a long time for you, sweetpea. You remember when I would sing to you?”

The memory of him with his palms placed softly on your bump, caressing the skin and singing every tune he knew with the smallest bit of hope that your baby would hear it, was enough to relieve you of the pain that very much continued to rock through your lower body.

“I’ll sing for you always.”

The deepest corners of your heart lightened at the sight of Elias—your husband, your man, your dream—cradling the joy you’d made together.

You remain still in bed, worried that even the slightest move could disturb the moment. For now, you watched.

“My daddy,” Elias thickly gulped before steadying his voice. “He, uh…Well, he was a bad man. And I lost my mama before I could even hear her voice.” You’d heard the story only twice and never asked to again. Every time Elias mentioned it, a distant, heavy weight returned itself upon his shoulders. But now, as he whispered to your baby girl, he seemed eased. “But I was lucky. I had-”

He chokes on his words, and even from the bed, you can see the gleam of tears in his eyes against the moonlight.

“I had a brother. And he protected me from our daddy. Looked just like me too. In a way, I s’pose he looked like you.” A pit grows in his stomach, but Elias continues. “He woulda loved you, sweetheart, and your mama, too.

“And I know he’s somewhere better now. With his baby and his woman. I think he’d happy,” he leans in so his nose nuzzles against hers. “That I got my own.”

On Elias’ bedside table sits a framed photograph, faded from the sun and time. Two of the same face look back at you as you glance at it, and you can only imagine what the SmokeStack Twins were like in their glory days. You look back in the corner when the sound of Elias’ voice cuts through the silence again.

“And it’s important you should know the woman you’re named after. She, uh…” he chuckles. “Well, she and I didn’t get along much, at first, but there’s a reason why Elijah loved her.” You wonder if he’s still speaking to your daughter or to himself now.

He closes his eyes contently, lips curved into a soft smile as if lost in a memory. “She was one of the strongest women I know—apart from your mama, of course.

“See, babygirl, my brother protected me. And she protected him.” Unaware that you’re awake, Elias up at you, but he isn’t surprised to see your eyes open. “And I’m gon’ protect you.”

The eyes he fell head over heels with so many years ago. The ones that grounded him when the memory of his brother infested his dreams. The ones that he swore he couldn’t live without.

The eyes he sees when he looks at your baby girl.

Instead, his smile widens.

“The both of you.”

#something short and sweet #okay but let’s dive into this #elias/stack as a dad makes me JEJDJSKSKALW #elias moore #stack moore #stack moore fluff #stack moore x reader #stack moore x fem!reader #elias moore x reader #elias moore fluff #sinners fanfic #michael b jordan #michael b jordan fanfic #michael b jordan x reader #elias moore x fem!reader #michael b jordan fluff #sinners fanfiction #fem!reader

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vroomvro0mferrari · 8 months ago

Text

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 · 9 months ago

Text

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.

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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🔥❄️

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itsthewritergal · 1 year ago

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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

#bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes x y/n #itsthewritergal #bucky masterlist #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky x

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romanteacism · 10 months ago

Text

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.

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