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moonflowergirlsworld · 2 months ago

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A dear anon Requested; Yandere Rover with unlucky reader.

While thinking about how to write it, I remembered a request in my Wattpad; Yandere Male Rover with an Isekai'd simp reader.

The ideas opened the flood gates and I combined the two to write it, But accidentally I posted the half written Oneshot instead of saving in drafts, in a panic I deleted the whole thing and then lost the anon Ask.

(⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

After having a meltdown, I got back the motivation and wrote it from scratch.

Yandere M! Rover x unlucky simp isekai'd F!Reader

This was the blueprint / reference sheet for this oneshot.

Slowburn

12k words (was having so much fun writing this I didn't even notice the word count.)

Wuwa Version 2.0 Rinascita spoilers

Rinascita was never ready for your thirst.

You were losing your mind. Not in a metaphorical, “haha I love this game” way—no, actually losing it. Right there on your bed, wrapped in a blanket burrito, your phone inches from your face, you screamed at a pixelated man who had no idea the chokehold he had on your soul.

“YESSSSS! 100K DAMAGE! GO OFF, KING!”

Your screen was a whirlwind of Havoc energy—your Rover dodging as your fingers maneuvered with precision on your phone screen. With a flick of his fingers, the Umbra bar pulsed to max, you clicked the resonance Liberation.

His voice came:

“You will Obey!”

“AHHHH I SWEAR TO GOD YOU COULD MURDER ME AND I’D THANK YOU—”

Dark Surge erupted. His scythe formed from a pulse of void-black resonance, and in a single sweep, the TD was gone. Like, deleted. A 100K crit damage number splashed across the screen and you collapsed backward like it had personally hit you.

You clutched your phone above your head, grinning like a madman, heart pounding like you'd just been proposed to. “This is it. This is peak gaming.”

Then gravity remembered you existed. The phone slipped from your fingers and smacked you right on the nose. You yelped, hands flailing, dignity nowhere in sight.

Peak gaming? More like peak misfortune.

After picking up your phone, you started to do your dailies. The dailies were easy. With him by your side, you finished off everything with a grin. You tried to act normal—keyword tried. But you still found yourself whispering, “Look at my man gooo~” every time he did that spinning blade combo.

"Now, I just need to finish the Rinascita quest and Aero Rover is mine!" you declared dramatically, just as your phone clung to life at a tragic 5%. You stared at it like it had personally betrayed you. With the sigh of someone who's been wronged by fate itself, you slapped it onto the charger.

When you finally logged out, you sighed long and hard, rolling onto your stomach.

“God, I wish I was there,” you muttered. “Like, not even in a weird way.” You rolled around on the bed, talking to yourself like any sane person would. “Okay, maybe a little weird, but I just wanna meet him. I’d totally be chill, right? I’d be cool. He wouldn't know I'm mentally married to him. I can fake normal.” You stared up at the ceiling.

“Just one chance, universe. One chance.”

Like the protagonist of every isekai anime ever, you fell asleep like that, mind filled with daydreams about him. Blanket half on the floor. Still mumbling about scythe physics and “how hot it is when he says anything in that voice of his.”

You woke up mid-scream.

Not because you were in danger. You were falling. Your body was currently plummeting through the air like a sack of potatoes. A flash of green, a swirl of clouds, and now—face-first into a patch of moss.

“Mmfh—ow—oof—my back…” you groaned, rolling over with all the grace of a flipped turtle. Leaves stuck to your cheek. Something—probably a bug—buzzed suspiciously near your ear. You slapped it away with a shriek and scrambled up, wobbling like a newborn deer.

What the hell?

You looked around, eyes wide. The trees swayed gently above you. As you looked up, a breathtaking sight unfolded—towering trees and jagged mountains pierced through the clouds. Ancient ruins peeked through the foliage, whispering tales of a bygone era. The air was thick with the scent of moss and hummed with strange frequencies.

Everything shimmered faintly, like the game’s graphics got injected with magic steroids. Except... this wasn’t your screen. This was real.

You smacked your own cheek once. Twice. “Ow—okay. Okay. This is happening.”

Your heart thundered. You spun in a circle, awe and panic slamming into each other like bumper cars. “This is Rinascita. This is actually Rinascita—holy SHIT I’m IN the GAME.”

You shrieked and tripped over a tree root you definitely should’ve seen, collapsing into a bush. It scratched the hell out of your arm, but the pain was just proof: real, not a dream.

And then you heard footsteps. You froze, your butt still plopped on the bush.

Crunch. Crunch.

Shadows danced across the moss. A low hum of resonance energy vibrated through the air, in a way that sent goosebumps down your spine.

As he came into view, your lungs forgot how to function for a second as your gaze collided with his. Broad shoulders, lean waist. Black belts/straps wrapped around his hips and chest—he looked very dreamy up front.

And those eyes, so magnetic. “I love you,” you blurted out without even letting the thought cook in your brain.

The silence was loud, as he paused, shocked by the abruptness and genuineness of your tone. Even the wind paused like, girl.

You clamped your hands over your mouth, eyes wide in horror. “I—I mean—not like that—I mean yes like that but not in a weird way—well, okay, maybe a little weird, but—oh god, I just—I swear I’m normal. Sometimes... Fuck.”

Rover tilted his head, stepping closer, his eyes zoning in on the cut on your arm. “Are you injured?”

“Yes—no—I mean emotionally, yes. Physically... just my ego,” you mumbled the last part, still embarrassed.

You tried to stand, but your foot caught the same cursed root and you fell again, this time right at his feet. Like a peasant paying tribute.

You groaned into the dirt. “This is why I can’t have nice things. My unlucky streak is at it again...”

He didn’t laugh. Of course not. He is a gentleman through and through. Instead, he crouched down beside you.

You stared up at him from the ground, limbs tangled and expression fully dead inside. “You’re even hotter in person. That’s not helping.”

Pause, try not to be so obvious. you scold yourself, reminding yourself to keep the fangirling to a minimum.

He held his hand in front of you to help you get up, voice low and calm. “You seem... disoriented. Are you actually alright?”

You shook your head, took his offer with the kind of reverence usually reserved for divine intervention, allowing him to pull you up. He didn’t comment on the way you tripped again immediately after and used his jacket to steady yourself.

“I am sorry,” you whispered, gripping the fabric like a lifeline. “I’m not usually like this...”

He helped you be steady on your feet. His eyes didn’t leave your face. “That’s difficult to believe,” he said softly.

You couldn’t tell if he meant it as sarcasm or observation—but either way, damn, it did things to you, and he was so close.

You feel the lingering warmth of his hand on yours.

Not metaphorical warmth, Not the “he touched me, oh my God I’m swooning” kind. Actual heat, like a campfire still flickering in your veins. You glance down at your fingers You’d clung to him like he was the last thread tethering you to sanity—because maybe, he is.

He hasn’t stepped away, still hovering near. You guess he’s staying close so you don’t trip again. aw, how nice of him!

You’re still staring at that hand of yours. It’s shaking, combined with the sting of the scratch on your arm.

You blink down at your fingers. Curl them. Uncurl. You press your thumb into your palm like you’re trying to wake up—you already know the answer but you are still in denial. Nothing happens. The world doesn’t blur. There’s no logout button hovering over your peripheral vision.

Your throat tightens.

“I’m in Wuthering Waves,” you whisper, voice barely carried by the air. “The game. This is the game.”

You blink up at the sky—those shattered clouds, the hazy blue, the orange-tinged light that never feels quite right. It’s too beautiful to be real, and that’s the problem.

“I’m in the fucking game.” Your legs go stiff. You can’t look at Rover. Not yet. You can feel him beside you though. “Wait, wasn’t Truck-kun in charge of Isekai?! I mean, I love this game and I’m in it… I was happy a moment ago, but now I suddenly feel anxious!”

“I can’t even run two miles without gasping like a dying fish,” you mumble, voice catching on a breath. “I sprain my ankle walking too fast in socks. And now I’m here… in a post-apocalyptic monster hellscape…”

A breath escapes your lips. It sounds like a laugh, but it’s broken. It doesn’t make it past your teeth.

“I’m going to die here,” you whisper, almost stunned by your own words. “Of course this happened to me. Of course, knowing my luck. My life is just a string of bad RNG. And now in a game that would have me killed in less than a second!”

Your knees feel unsteady. The nausea creeps in like a slow wave, curling into your gut. Rover silently stands beside you, So completely unaware that you are currently having a mental breakdown in HD 4K resolution.

Maybe he knows but doesn't want to interrupt, ah, you are too far gone to think about that. You inhale shakily, Try to joke it off. “Haha, yeah, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you whisper but Your voice cracks.

Cool. Cool. Everything is fine.

You stare at him, Then you ask, “Have you met Cartethyia yet?”

He tilts his head. “...Who?”

You laugh. It’s the kind that sounds like it’s trying to crawl its way out of your throat, a panicky exhale.

You start mumbling.

“Montelli family… yeah, you’re supposed to team up with Carlotta. There’s this whole bit where you join the Troupe of Fools? Fight against Phrolova but make it look like a carnival performance. And then you receive the Laurel from Cartethyia, the Maiden. You meet her when she is dancing on water.”

You rub your temple, your brain short-circuiting, You crouch on the ground, slowly curling in on yourself, arms tightening around your knees.

“I don’t want to die,” you whisper, too soft. “I don’t even know how to hold a sword. I can’t fight monsters. I can’t run.”

Seeing someone fall, Rover quickly ran to help the said person. He had noticed you long before you realized he was watching.

Not just the way you stood awkwardly in this world—your posture not matching the other inhabitants, not aligning with the rhythm of this reality—but the way your eyes followed him. That slow trail of longing, like your gaze held a history no one had written yet.

He sees people look at him all the time. Wanting something. Needing something. Dressing up desperation in flattery.

But you blinked at him like someone seeing a memory in flesh. Like someone who couldn’t quite believe he existed. And then—“I love you.”

The words landed with a sincerity so bare, so vulnerable, it made his breath still for half a second.

Not lust. Not seduction. No angled smile or slanted voice. Just a truth, trembling at the base of your tongue, so unfiltered it didn’t even wait for permission.

His mind locked onto you like a puzzle piece with edges that didn’t match anything else in the box.

Flirting—he’d seen it all. It was currency here, like pain or adrenaline. Everyone tried it. A hand brushed too long, a compliment too smooth, a feigned stumble into his chest. It was the unspoken agreement of survivors: flatter the strong, and they might protect you.

He’d grown immune to it. So when you said you loved him?

He waited for the follow-up. The manipulation. The ask. The trade. But it never came.

You just stood there, awkward and pink in the cheeks, with eyes darting like you regretted speaking too loudly in church.

He noted the way you bit your lip, then tried to backtrack. The fumble of your fingers, the way you kept glancing away like maybe if you looked somewhere else long enough, time would rewind itself and un-say what you’d said.

Cute. He found you cute.

He’d catalogued emotions a thousand times. Studied expressions for lies, eyes for betrayal, postures for threat.

But yours didn't fit any category.

And then came the dump.

The babble of a girl who knew too much. Who said names like passwords, dropped references like prophecy.

At first, he assumed you were delirious. Shell shock, maybe. Madness. The kind that comes after a concussion, you did appear out of nowhere from the sky.

But the more you spoke, the more specific it all became.

You told him he was a character. That you had played through this world, and he was at the center of it.

He didn’t believe it.

But the clarity of your voice, the ache in it, the precision with which you whispered names—it didn’t match a lie. It matched conviction.

He stored it. Like a tracker tagging something rare. Slid the information into a mental folder and filed it next to things he wasn’t supposed to understand yet.

Later. He’d circle back to it later.

He watched as your body began to tremble. As you sank into yourself, shoulders hunched, head bowed like the weight of this world and the other one you came from had finally crashed together.

“You’re still alive, see,” Rover finally spoke, making you look up at him from your knees. He crouched down beside you again.

“Let me help you. We should definitely go somewhere safer. The forest is filled with TDs.”

Offering you his hand again, he watched as you stared at him like a deer in headlights.

“I’ll ask Zani to accommodate a place for you to stay. It seems you’ve lost your way.”

You blink rapidly. Rover watched you with a calm, unreadable gaze, waiting for you to take his hand. It seemed you had finally calmed down—or perhaps he’d distracted you—because the last trembles of your meltdown were fading.

“So,” he said, voice smooth like worn velvet, giving you a small smile. “What is your name?”

You, still high off panic and full simp-mode, blurted, “You can call me your wife.”

Instant regret. Your eyes went wide. “Wait, I didn’t mean—I mean—I don’t mind if you do, but I didn’t mean to—oh god, I’m making this worse—sorry—ah, I’ll stop!”

You buried your face in your hands, wanting the ground to open up and swallow your simp soul. “Forget I said anything. Please.”

Rover couldn’t help the amused glint in his eyes. He wanted to test something. The edge of his voice dipped, smooth and amused, just enough to tilt the world sideways.

“...Would you tell me your name, or should I start calling you ‘my wife’ ?”

You squealed internally. Your soul left your body. Your mind short-circuited. “That would be nice,” you said in a dazed whisper.

Rover chuckled softly. You were quite fun to tease.

Your eyes flew open. “Ah! No! I mean—sorry! My name is [Name]!”

You finally took his hand as he helped you stand. You let go quickly, already embarrassed and internally cringing at your slip-ups. You wanted to keep your fangirling side locked up, so you took a step away from him.

“I’ll guide you back to Ragunna City and help you settle,” Rover said, already walking ahead.

You stayed frozen in place.

Noticing you weren’t following, Rover glanced back. “Stay close,” he said calmly.

Startled, stumbling a bit before quickly jogging to catch up, falling into step beside him.

Oh god. You are so fucked.

You and Rover have been walking for… you don’t even know how long. Not to mention, as you two were walking out of the forest, there were so many TDs that attacked. Thank god Rover took care of all of them, and you were happily cheering him on from the back.

The misfortunate situation is not lost on you, knowing how your luck is, you were kinda expecting to run into more trouble after that. But this journey so far has been peaceful, and now you really don’t want to jinx it.

Oh, thinking about how peaceful it is might jinx it. I should stop. You shake your head to dispel the thought.

The weather’s nice too. Sunny, but not too much. The clouds, thick, cottony ones, hide the sun occasionally. Just the right kind of sky to take a walk and touch some grass.

Reaching a set of stone stairs, you notice a Resonance Nexus nearby. Rinascita Nexuses are shaped like the lower part of a fish’s tail, it’s unique. And on your left side… is a cave. A very dark one.

“Do you know this place?” Rover’s smooth voice comes from just beside you, making you snap out of your daze.

“Umm… I don’t know much of the map of Rinascita since I just started playing and then got dumped here. Well, I already know about the port part, where Brant and his crew leave you and then you meet Zani. I think… My memory’s a little fuzzy. Wait, no! You meet Phoebe first… now that I think more about it, you meet an NPC called Cristopopo. No, um… what was his name?”

You ramble on, words slipping faster than your common sense.

“Cristoforo…” Rover answers, his eyes narrowing as he watches you with a sharpened gaze. “How did you know all this?”

At first, he chalked off your ramblings as a possible concussion response. But now? You know how he arrived here. Who he met. Too much, actually. All of this is starting to feel very suspicious.

“Because I was the one behind the screen, Rover!” you chuckle, then pause.

Wait…Your brain stutters. Shouldn’t I be hiding the fact that I know too much? I’ve seen enough isekai anime to know this is a red flag move.

“Oh shit…” You slowly meet Rover’s gaze and smile as innocently as possible. “I am a normal human… who’s a little crazy. Yep! I think I actually got a concussion by falling from the sky! Weird… hahaha…”

You laugh nervously, trying to lighten the mood, where was your common sense when you needed it the most?!

But those golden eyes, glint with something unreadable. The air suddenly feels thick with tension.

Rover nods slowly, and you exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “This is the way to the city square.” he says, pointing toward the cave.

…?No way. If you remember correctly, this actually leads to the Cathedral—the Order’s base.

Still, you follow him into the cave. He walks a few steps ahead while you lag behind. It’s dim, lit only by candles on either side, on the ground, shadows licking the stone walls. The air is cold and damp.

It’s so dark that if someone were to murder anyone in here… no one would know.

You chuckle to yourself.

Imagine if Rover brought you here to murder you because you’re suspicious. Hahaha… funny.

Rover pauses mid-step as if he heard that thought.

You freeze.

He turns to look at you and you swear his eyes are glowing.

“There are stone stairs up ahead. I think I should guide you from here, knowing how you can trip unprompted.” he says, offering his hand.

Aw, how nice! But wait, did he just make fun of you?

Eh, whatever. You can’t focus on that when Rover just remembered something so trivial about you! Your heart does a little flip as you take his hand without hesitation.

He helps you walk down the stairs, and the cave opens into a half-balcony area. From here, you can see the structure of the place more clearly.

There’s an opening to your left where the stairs lead down to a wide area with a fountain in the center. Another balcony lies to the right, and what looks like an elevator structure stands to the left.

Oh! you know this place.

“Rover! This is the Cathedral area, not the city square. The elevator leads down to the entrance of the Cathedral and…”

You walk to the balcony that overlooks the Cathedral’s massive dome.

“And I remember doing an Echo Challenge: Flight VI here!”

You turn to face Rover. “So why did you—” Your voice dies inside your throat as you see the look on his face.

He’s smiling, The I-just-confirmed-my-suspicion kind of smile.

And he looks so hot.

“…you know a lot more than you let on,” he says, casually.

You raise both your hands in surrender. “Look, I’m from another universe who got dropped into this one out of nowhere! And then I met my future husb—”

Rover raises an eyebrow. You panic and pivot mid-sentence.

“I mean, I told you everything I know! I’m no threat! I can’t even fight or anything!”

You’re really selling this like a bad NPC, and the delivery is getting desperate. A true Oscar performance.

Rover nods again, as if still processing your info. Then he lifts his chin toward the landscape. “That’s Ragunna City. But you already know that, don’t you?”

You look out across the scenery. In the game, it’s beautiful but in real life? It’s stunning.

“Are we gonna take the elevator, then a boat to the city?” you ask, excited.

“No,” Rover says. And suddenly, he’s standing right in front of you.

You gulp.

His eyelashes are so long. His lips look kissable as hell

Focus!

“—Ready?”

“Huh?”

Before you can even process it, Rover’s hand wraps around your waist and pulls you close as he jumps off the balcony.

His Flight wings appear just in time, catching the wind, and the two of you are soaring through the air. The wind rushes past you, your heart threatening to beat right out of your chest.

Down below, the city opens up in all its glory. It’s breathtaking.

Rover lands gracefully on the city square, letting go of you immediately. You wobble, regaining your footing, eyes wide.

“You should’ve warned me first!” you exclaim. “But that was awesome! It’s such a bummer you can only use this utility in Rinascita and not in Huanglong.”

Rover frowns slightly, but then smirks. “I did tell you we were about to fly down to the city square.” He leans closer to your eye level. “Seems like, you were lost in that head of yours.”

Ugh. This man. Why is he so……illegally attractive?

Ragunna City in all its glory, where the architecture immediately captivates with its harmonious blend of form and function. Buildings rise in warm hues of beige, ivory, and terracotta, their facades adorned with intricate carvings and ornate balconies that seem like something straight out of a dream.

Canals weave through the city like veins, crossed by arched stone bridges that connect various districts. Along these waterways, colonnaded walkways provide shaded paths, their columns supporting overhanging terraces lush with greenery.

"Wow!" You’re blown away by how breathtaking the city is. “It’s about time Zani called…” Rover murmurs just as his terminal rings.

“Unfortunately, bad news, I did connect with the places around, but there aren’t any rooms available in any of the hotels in the city,” Zani says over the call. Rover had asked her if she could arrange a room for you.

What surprises you more is that Rover didn’t mention a single thing about how he found you, where you're from, or any of your wildly suspicious ramblings. He simply stated you were someone important to him and that Zani should treat you like she treats him.

Weird… but you don’t dwell on it.

“I’ve told some of my people to keep searching. This is uncanny to say the least,” Zani continues, and Rover hums in response.

“If we can’t find anything,” Rover says, turning his gaze to you and calling your name, “you can stay with me.”

You blink. Spending a night with Rover? In a room? Alone?! Count me in.

After the call ends, you’re busy ogling the streets—your eyes wide as you try to soak everything in.

“Would you like to look around the city?” Rover asks, voice smooth as silk.

“Can we?! Don’t you have to, like… go meet the head of the Montelli family? Maybe a certain troop of fools to plan the Carnival performance?”

There you go again, digging your own grave with the shovel. Might as well throw in a few flowers while you’re at it, because Rover is clearly locked onto you again.

“…”

“Ah—I would love to! Let’s look around the city!” you shout, immediately speed-walking toward the Tub Tacet Discord to distract him.

“Hey Rover, she is very suspicious…”

“Shh…Abby, now is not a good time.”

Rover simply follows, letting you lead the way, subtly steering you through the city like he’s indulging you… or observing. Either way, you're too thrilled to care.

The shops are narrow but deep, with arched doorways and canvas shades overhead. The lighting is dim but golden, bouncing off copper lanterns and polished wood counters. Markets are open-air, scattered through the city like hidden gems.

You’re definitely enjoying yourself. Doesn’t this feel like...a date?

And to think—your mother luck has finally shown up for you, because nothing bad has happened so far. This whole exploration? Solid 10/10.

“I won’t be coming back to the hotel tonight, so the room’s all yours. I have some things to take care of. We might see each other in the morning.” Rover says as the two of you finally arrive at the hotel he’s staying at.

Might…? You blink. Right, it’s probably the quest time. Maybe he’s off to meet the Troop of Fools or something. It is nighttime, after all.

“We won’t see each other in the morning?” you ask, the disappointment slipping out before you can stop it.

“Maybe, maybe not. It Depends.” Rover gives you a smile and with that, Rover walks off after handing you the room key.

You enter the room and plop onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. So tired. Your legs are aching like you walked across the entire map. Rolling back and forth on the mattress, you try to find a comfortable position.

“I wonder… why didn’t Abby appear when I met Rover? In the Rinascita quest, Abby was always out and about…”

With that final thought, sleep takes you, deep and heavy, completely unaware that, somewhere out there, you had already slipped beneath their skin, settled into their thoughts.

The next morning, you're already up and about, practically skipping through the sun-dappled streets of Ragunna City. How could you not? You're in the world of Wuthering Waves! The most logical thing to do? Soak in every glorious detail.

Well, after that nervous breakdown yesterday, you’ve come up with a brilliant idea—you're going to settle in Ragunna City, find a job, and live a comfortable life, far away from the wild and hostile Tacet Discords.

You gasp, the memory of the Phrolova fight and its breathtaking cutscene flooding back. Oh. My. God. You're so ready.

You race toward the gathering crowd, the air buzzing with anticipation. Brant sits atop a high platform. But where's Rover? Maybe he's with Carlotta, preparing for the performance.

Suddenly, red petals begin to drift from above, catching the sunlight as they fall. You look up, and there she is.

Phrolova.

Your heart skips a beat. The sky parts like a curtain, revealing a scene that's both eerie and mesmerizing. The atmosphere is tinged with an otherworldly aura, sending a thrill down your spine.

The crowd's cheers swell as Phrolova begins to speak, her voice resonating through the square. She gracefully settles onto a circular hoop suspended in the air, exuding an ethereal elegance.

It's about to begin!!!

You watch, enraptured, as Carlotta and Rover take the stage, battling wave after wave of Tacet Discords. Brant narrates the scene like a grand play, his words weaving the action into a captivating story.

The climax arrives with a burst of fireworks as Rover slices through Phrolova's wand with his scythe. He lands on the stage, the remnants of Phrolova's domain dissipating around him. A laurel materializes, crowning his head.

You're practically bouncing with joy. Witnessing this in real life is beyond anything you could have imagined. It's absolutely magnificent.

Suddenly, a feeling wraps around you like a hug, it's suffocating.

You feel Eyes on you.

You glance around and find Rover staring directly at you, his golden eyes burning with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. There's something in his gaze, so unnerving.

Instinctively, you feel an urge to hide, to escape those hauntingly beautiful eyes.

Without thinking, you turn and weave through the crowd, slipping into the narrow alleys of Ragunna City, your heart pounding in your chest.

After the Carnival, Rover walks into the hotel, footsteps soft on the polished floors. He’s greeted instantly.

“Mister Rover, another room has been prepared for you. Here’s the key,” the receptionist says with a practiced smile.

He smiles back, taking it without a word, fingers curling around the cool metal. Once inside his suite, the door clicks shut behind him.

Not a single thought passed through his head, just the static buzz of your voice echoing in some unreachable corner of his mind.

With a heavy exhale, he dropped down onto the edge of the bed. he sat with both feet planted wide on the ground, knees spread, forearms resting atop them.

One hand slid through his hair, slow, rough, pulling at the strands like he could rake the thoughts from his skull.

“I’m in the fucking game.”

“Have you met Cartethyia yet?”

“But that was awesome! It’s such a bummer you can only use this utility in Rinascita and not in Huanglong.”

“Because I am the one behind the screen, Rover.”

Your previous conversations loop around in that big brain of Rover's. He rests his chin on his clasped hands, elbows propped on his knees, eyes glued to the wall.

The pulse in his temple beats a little too hard.

“She said I’m a character,” he whispered, eyes narrowing. “This world isn’t real.”

A sharp breath rattled into his lungs as he closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly, as if listening to some whisper only he could hear.

“She knows Huanglong. She knows Rinascita. She talks like she has known me since the beginning of my journey...”

“I love you.”

The moment it replayed in his mind, something fractured beneath the surface.

Abby burst from the Tacet mark, crackling into the air with a spark of gold light. “What if all she’s saying is nonsense?”

It pouted when Rover didn't say anything. “Rover, don’t we have to meet Carlotta, Brant and Roccia for the celebration tomorrow? Let's just sleep!”

He didn’t move. His eyes were still on the wall, still seeing the shape of your smile in the cracks of the paint.

“Abby… what’s her frequency like?”

Abby blinked, startled by the question. “Eh? I mean—it’s normal. Kind of weirdly low, actually. But it’s got this… this vibe to it. Hard to explain.”

Abby floated in slow, thoughtful circles, frowning in concentration. “It just feels…”

Rover’s gaze finally broke from the wall, softening when turning to Abby.

“Out of this world!” Abby said suddenly, snapping its little paw-fingers. “That’s it!”

He nodded. “Otherworldly,” he murmured, almost to himself. Then his voice dropped. “Can you absorb her?”

Abby jerked in mid-air, appalled. “Ew! No! She’s sweet! Like aggressively sweet! I’d get indigestion.”

A slow exhale left Rover’s mouth. He stood without another word, walking to the door, movement fluid, like the weight of his thoughts no longer held him down.

“Will we go to the party tomorrow?” Abby zipped after him, in an excited spiral. “Umm..where are we going?”

Rover nods, smiling softly at Abby. “Yes we will. For now I just need some fresh air.” Abby floats beside his shoulder. “What about the strange girl?”

He pauses at the threshold, a shadow stretching long behind him from the hallway lights.

“I must keep her close.”

You weave through the streets, your steps slowing to a casual stroll despite the frantic beat of your heart.

It felt like… no, you don’t want to finish that thought.

There’s no reason to. Rover would never—he’s gentle, thoughtful, the kind of man who's Carring and always waits for your answer. He’s your Rover.

The sun has long dipped below the skyline, shadows stretching like claws across the cobblestones. The streets are lit by eerie blue lamps, that give off that weird hypnotic sound.

The occasional flutter of a curtain from open windows, or the low creak of Ragunna City's buildings, the distinct sound of people are the only thing keeping you company, You have walked towards the empty part of the city.

You’re not walking with any direction, just letting your feet take you through the winding alleys, marveling at how this place feels so much like Rome. So beautiful, so rich with history and yet, so easy to get lost in.

The wind howls through the upper levels, curling around the rooftops like a predator circling in silence.

And then it hits you, that feeling. That dreadful, skin-prickling, breath-snatching feeling. Something is watching you.

You lift your gaze, heartbeat stalling.

Two glowing purple orbs, blink into existence atop a rooftop. They shift, jump, moving roof to roof, always staying just far enough to make you doubt…

but close enough that you know they’re watching. And they’re getting closer.

No. No, no, no.

One single word cuts through every thought Run.

And so you do.

You bolt through the city, panic clawing at your throat, your shoes skidding on the stone paths as you turn corner after corner, blindly sprinting down alleyways and corners that all look the same.

The wind behind you screams. You don’t dare look back. You don’t need to. The orbs are above you now, gliding overhead like phantoms. They’re keeping up, very easily.

Your lungs are burning. Your legs ache. But still, you run.

You make a sharp turn, too sharp and slam headfirst into something solid. You stagger back, the impact jarring your senses.

And in your dazed panic you hear the person in front of you whisper your name softly, Spoken like a question, and yet it cuts through your fear like a blade. You’d know that voice anywhere.

“Rover!” you gasp, your voice a ragged mess of relief and exhaustion. “Oh thank god, Rover, I think I was being chased! There were these orbs, like, ghost things, jumping over rooftops!” You point up, frantic, your breath hitching.

But there’s nothing. Your outstretched finger trembles. You blink up at the empty rooftops.

Rover steps closer, brows furrowed with visible concern. “You didn’t return to the hotel,” he says, voice soft but serious. “I got a little worried…”

The way he says it, that makes guilt wrap tightly around your chest. You hadn’t thought about that. You’d gotten so swept up in the fear of getting away from him, but he was the only one who came to your rescue.

Before you can respond, a sharp, slightly indignant voice cuts in.

"Meh! She better have a good explanation! You wasted my precious time!"

Your heart leaps with recognition.

“Abby!!” you squeal, spotting the tiny, cat-like Echo floating indignantly beside Rover’s shoulder.

You lunge forward and scoop it into your arms before it can float away, smothering it in your excitement. “Oh my god, you're so fluffy in real life! You’re adorable! So cute!!”

“Let. Me. Go!” Abby grumbles, squirming and kicking its little limbs in protest. It floats upward with an angry wobble as soon as you loosen your grip, glaring at you with narrowed eyes.

You pout. “Ok, ok sorry! I know I didn’t ask before hugging you but I got hit with cuteness aggression! You can’t hold that against me.”

The little Echo huffs and sticks its tongue out at you without missing a beat, you stick yours right back.

Rover watches the interaction in silence, noticing how easy it is to distract you.… but that earlier intensity still lingers at the very edges of his expression.

After that long, nightmare-like night, you returned to the hotel with Rover. Morning came too soon, walking out of your room you catch a glimpse of familiar dark fabric moving past you, Your heart jumps.

Quickly, You follow him along the hallway, Rover is already walking ahead, his silhouette framed by golden light from the lobby windows.

“Rover!” you call out, voice echoing softly across the corridor.

He pauses mid-step, turning just slightly. That warm, boyish smile spreads across his face—“Good Morning.” and that breathy softness of his tone. The kind that makes your chest squeeze painfully and your legs feel weak.

It’s stupid how fast he can do that to you.

You greet him back with enthusiasm, falling into step beside him, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. It's too early to be simping again, gotta make your brain think of something else.

“You know, I was thinking... I’m going to stay in Ragunna City. Maybe get a job, settle in a bit. That way I don’t have to run into any Tacet Discords...and honestly...I really don’t want to learn how to fight.”

Rover’s eyes flick toward you as he opens the front entrance of the hotel. The door glides smoothly, and he holds it open without a word, letting you step through first.

“That’s smart thinking,” he murmurs, and for a second, you swear there’s something weightier behind his tone.

Your heart does a flip. Rover just called me smart. He thinks I’m smart! Heh!

You glance up at him, beaming, but the smile on his face has vanished. He’s watching you now. A stillness in him, like the air before lightning strikes.

“But,” he says slowly, and starts walking again, now the two of you are walking down the streets. “You told me about what happened last night… and it sounds like Ragunna City might not be as safe as you think.”

You blink at him. “Wait… you believe me?” The shock is real, raw. You hadn’t expected him to take your words seriously.

He stops walking and Turns. His golden eyes meet yours, catching the sunlight just right, there’s a glimmer in them that feels too sharp to be soft, too intense to be gentle.

“Yes, I do,” he says, voice smooth, measured. “Every single word since we met… I’ve believed you.” He leans in slightly, lowering his tone to something quieter, something softer that curls beneath your skin. “You wouldn’t have a reason to lie to me. Right?”

There’s no threat in his voice. None at all. Only kindness. Too much kindness. It floods over you, sweet and heavy. You gulp.

But then you see it. That unwavering focus in his eyes. Like he’s not just hearing you but memorizing every syllable, and every feature of yours.

Still, your smile returns, hesitant but hopeful. He believed you, About the ghost. You weren’t crazy, and somehow that felt like everything.

“Yep! I was serious about that.” you say, a little breathless. “Thank you.”

Right then, his terminal buzzes.

But Rover doesn’t reach for it immediately, His eyes linger on you, longer than necessary, longer than what should be polite. like the interruption has offended him somehow.

Only when the buzzing repeats does he finally pick it up.

“Were you awake, Rover? I trust you had a restful sleep?” a woman’s voice purrs from the other end.

You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle the squeal building in your throat, eyes going wide. Oh my god. It's Carlotta! This is it! This is where he goes to meet with Brant, Roccia. You're practically vibrating with excitement, quietly giggling into your hand like a lovesick person.

“Psst! What are you giggling about!?” a tiny voice snaps beside you.

You blink, turn your head and flinch. “Abby!? When did you get out of Rover’s Tacet mark? You’re still weak, you shouldn’t be out!”

Abby floats right into your face, squinting suspiciously. “You’re weird. You know things only me and Rover should know. I’m watching you.” It squints harder, doing the two fingers motion from its eyes to yours, then promptly zips back into Rover’s Tacet mark like a gremlin vanishing into shadow.

The call ends with a soft beep.

Rover turns back to you, but there’s something unreadable in his gaze, like he’s thinking too much. Or not thinking at all. “Don’t mind Abby,” he says. “Would you like to come with me?”

You blink. “Where?”

He raises an eyebrow, as his lips quirk up slightly. “You already know the answer. So why ask?”

You huff, flustered, watching as Rover turns his back to you, walking ahead with a casual confidence. Like he already knows you’ll follow.

The space you arrive in is open and tastefully decorated, big plush couches arranged around a low table, soft lighting casting warm glows over the area.

And your breath catches.

Because there they are—Brant, Carlotta, and Roccia. In the flesh. Living, breathing, talking. Not just pixels or dialogue boxes. You practically light up, your eyes going wide and sparkling like you’ve stepped into a dream made real.

You barely register the soft click of Rover’s boots behind you.

He watches you. Watches the way your mouth parts just a little in awe, the way your body angles forward in excitement.

He drinks in every detail like he’s parched...

but it’s not enough. Because for the first time since you met… you’re not looking at him.

You’re looking at them.

And he doesn’t like it.

Not one bit.

There’s a weight in his chest, something sharp and unfamiliar. A prickling tightness blooming behind his ribs like thorns.

He clears his throat softly, a warning disguised in civility.

You blink, glancing back at him. He’s smiling But something in his eyes is off.

Rover gestures toward the trio and some other people from the troop of fools with a tilt of his head, silently urging you forward. You step ahead with a nervous bounce, and he trails just behind you.

His eyes never leave you.

Not even for a second.

“Raise your glasses! Shout it loud, friends! To us! To the carneval! And to our very own Laureate!” Brant cheered, his voice a bit too loud and his steps more than a little wobbly. He looked absolutely wasted, swaying on his feet as he raised his drink high into the air with a proud grin.

You paused, standing just a few feet away from him, trying not to let your expression reveal the internal screeching happening inside your head. Rover stepped forward slightly, close enough that his shoulder nearly brushed yours. “Please, stop,” he murmured. “You’re making me feel embarrassed.”

Brant gave Rover a sloppy, closed-eyed smile, completely unbothered by the scolding. Then his gaze shifted and landed on you and he lit up like a firework. “Oh! The Laureate's Maiden!” he exclaimed, voice cracking with excitement as he stumbled a little. “You were the one Rover left so early for, aren't you?”

He extended his drink toward you in a cheerful toast, and you froze. Your heart practically stuttered at the title, ‘Laureate’s Maiden.’ The words echoed in your mind like a prophecy.

Rover said nothing. He only lifted a hand to his forehead while shaking his head.

Carlotta’s sharp, observant eyes flicked toward you in curiosity. Meanwhile, Roccia leaned in toward her and whispered, “He’s drunk again,” before offering you a small, apologetic smile, in her shy demeanor.

You were losing your goddamn mind.

You stood there, barely holding it together, silently screaming. You were watching Brant be an absolute mess, Roccia being adorable, and Carlotta giving you the “I see you” stare. And then it hit you again how real everything is.

Your inner fangirl was one step away from combusting.

You felt it building up—your excitement almost boiling over your lips.

A hand wrapped around your wrist.

Your head snapped up, eyes locking with Rover’s. His face didn’t betray much, but the look in his golden eyes was enough—sharp, steady, and entirely too aware of what was happening inside you.

Somehow, he knew.

That you were about to slip, about to fangirl out loud and shatter the whole illusion. You didn’t even get how, but he caught it. As if he was tuned to your every breath.

You swallowed your squeal and took a deep, steadying breath. Then gave him a small, sheepish nod.

But he didn’t let go of your wrist and you could feel it in the pressure of his touch, the way he refused to release you.

Carlotta’s gaze softened, her attention drifting from Rover’s hand on you to your expression.

She smiled, and looked down for a moment, then patted the empty space beside her on the couch. It wasn’t direct, no announcement or fanfare, but the invitation was clear in her casual, elegant way. Just a subtle gesture, as if saying; Come sit. Let’s talk. You’re welcome here.

Carlotta rose gracefully, lifting her glass with a quiet confidence that commanded attention. “A toast, everyone!” she called, her voice ringing clear across the space. “drink freely and celebrate without restraint—everything’s on me.”

A ripple of cheers followed, glasses raised, laughter blooming in the air like fireworks.

You giggled to yourself, heart warm, eyes sparkling as the atmosphere buzzed around you. Slipping from Rover’s grasp—fingers parting with a reluctant drag—you moved to sit beside Carlotta on the plush sofa, feeling a soft thrill.

Carlotta turned to you, her expression calm but kind. “Welcome,” she said smoothly, folding one leg over the other. “You’re Rover’s special person. You’ll be treated as such.”

Your chest gave a small, involuntary flutter. You blinked at her, caught off guard by her directness. “Ah—Thank you! Um… but I don’t know about being special…” Your voice trailed into a mumble as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cheeks heating. “I want to be, though…”

Carlotta tilted her head, repeating your words with an airy lilt, “You’re not?” a flicker of relief, so subtle it almost slipped past you.

Before you could open your mouth and spill something mortifying —your unfiltered thoughts like, ‘Rover's fingers felt like silk ropes and I think I stopped breathing for three seconds’—a sudden shift interrupted.

Rover moved, Just strode forward and sat himself directly between you and Carlotta, his body sliding into the space. His shoulder pressed lightly against yours, and you had no choice but to scoot slightly to the side—caught off guard by the smoothness of the maneuver.

Carlotta blinked in mild surprise, eyebrows raising ever so slightly. Your own eyes widened too. The tension was brief but palpable, like the quiet before a lightning strike.

Carlotta adjusted her posture with ease and offered no protest. She simply redirected the flow of conversation, her tone shifting into something professional as she began discussing details about the event.

Rover and Carlotta kept talking, their tones low and deliberate as Roccia chimed in now and then. You stayed quiet, content to observe. but the heat at your side was impossible to ignore.

Rover’s leg brushed against yours, now settled there, beside yours. His hand settled near his knee, close enough that you felt the weight of it, even without touch. There was less to no distance between you two.

Whatever that gesture meant, it was received. Even the Order’s acolyte, who was spying from afar noticed it.

No one would approach you. Not now. Not with him right there.

It would be reported to Primus, an unexpected detail they’d soon turn into a calculated advantage.

You’re alone again.

The wind cuts soft against your skin as you stand on the balcony—that balcony. The one Rover brought you to the cave opened up into a place, Order's Cathedral.

He got summoned by the Primus. Some urgent request, diplomatic bullshit. You didn’t want to go inside. So you told him you’d wait here—where it all began. Where you both first touched Regunna’s sky.

The elevator hums behind you.

Ding.

“Excuse me, Miss. Are you with Rover?”

You blink, caught mid-thought. When you turn, you find an acolyte standing just a few feet away, the fountain splashing steadily behind him.

“Yes?” you say slowly, confused. Why the hell is one of them talking to you?

“With the Primus’ request, we’d like to give you a tour of the Order’s wildlife.”

Huuuh!?

You stare at him, deadpan. “Does Rover know about this?”

He doesn’t answer, Instead, his hand appears from behind his back, holding out a bouquet. A beautiful one. Flowers in shades that don’t exist in Regunna’s natural palette, arranged like a bribe wrapped in silk.

“For you, my lady,” he says with a thin smile. “A gift from the Primus. As a welcome.”

Huuuuuuuhhhhh?!

You feel your social anxiety flare like a damn solar flare. You grab the bouquet on instinct just to make this weirdo stop looking at you. The scent hits you immediately—sweet, heady, with something underneath, Faint and Strange.

Rot?

No. It’s not bad. Just…

“Would you please follow me?”

You don’t want to.

You want to ask more questions. Call Rover. Push this guy into the railing and run. But your body… it’s moving. Feet light, legs slow, floating forward.

The bouquet trembles in your hands.

Your throat tightens. “Ro...ver…” you try, but your mouth opens soundlessly. Not a whisper, not a wheeze. Nothing.

Inside, you’re screaming. You are begging for your voice. For control of your body.

Help me.

But all you can do is follow.

You’re in a field now.

Wide, open, The sky is dimmer here. Or maybe you’re imagining it. You blink—your vision sharpens. The man’s walking away, saying nothing. His silhouette fades into the distant treeline like he was never there.

And just like that, you drop the bouquet.

It hits the ground with a soft thump, and suddenly—it’s like you can breathe again. Like some part of your soul just clawed its way back into your chest.

Your hands shake.

“That bastard,” you hiss, furious. You want to run back, grab someone—anyone—by the collar and scream at them, What the fuck was that?!

But… who would believe you?

Then a voice, warm and steady, echoes in your memory.

“Every single word since we met… I’ve believed you.”

Rover.

Your breath hitches. Yeah. He would believe you.

But first, you need to get the hell out of here.

You spin around, scanning the field. You don’t even know where you are. There’s grass. Rocks. A distant shimmer of trees. You have no idea which way is back to the city. And of course, the second you realize how alone you are, The air shifts.

It gets cold. And then you hear it. Skittering. Growling. Clicking. Then, like stars in a nightmare sky, they appear—one by one. Tacet Discords...At least twenty of them.

All shapes. All sizes. Some teddy bear like. Some Grotesque silhouettes against the horizon—elongated limbs, blinking eyes, wet jaws, razor-wings.

The air hums with primal danger.

Your heart drops straight into your gut.

“Nonononono! fuck me sideways...” you breathe, taking a shaky step back.

Then they move, Fast. All at once. You run.

There’s no plan. No direction. Just sheer, animal panic. You dodge a spiked tail that slams into the ground where you stood a second ago. The impact makes the earth tremble, and you scream—loud, raw.

Your luck is absolute shit—no, scratch that, it's cosmically cursed. You were having such a good time.

And now? Thrown into this mess.

Funny how things go to hell the moment Rover isn’t by your side. When he’s around, your luck feels blessed, like the universe has your back. The second he’s gone? Boom—chaos and now apparently a welcoming bouquet laced with “fuck-you” energy.

Branches whip at your arms as you dive into whatever passes for cover here—rocks, shallow dips, ruins of something ancient and forgotten. You keep going, because stopping means dying.

You trip once. Twice. A claw nearly catches your ankle. You don’t look back.

Your legs burn. Your lungs are begging for mercy.

Your brain is just screaming: You’re going to die here.

You’re not built for this. You never trained. You’re not a Resonator. You don’t belong in the middle of a Tacet Discord bloodbath.

All you have is your decent sense of sarcasm, and what you hope is enough spite to fuel your survival.

“Great!” you shout breathlessly. “This is fantastic! You guys didn't even ask me on a date and now I’m on the fucking menu?!”

A Tacet Discord shrieks behind you in response. You scream back, middle finger raised in pure survival-mode insanity.

They’re everywhere. Every direction you turn..You can't outrun them. You know that.

But you’ll damn well try.

Because dying like this—alone, devoured in the dirt like trash?

Not on your list of acceptable Tuesday activities, wait is it Tuesday here? Nevermind.

And if you’re going down... at least one of these freaks is gonna have indigestion afterward.

The air is thick with dread.

Your legs are jelly, lungs burning, and the cacophony of Tacet Discords closing in is deafening. Each breath feels like a countdown to oblivion.

Suddenly, a blinding light pierces the gloom.

A shockwave erupts, sending Tacet Discords flying like ragdolls. The ground trembles beneath you, and for a moment, the world holds its breath.

From the epicenter of the blast, a figure emerges—Rover.

But this isn't the Rover you know. His eyes blaze with an otherworldly light, and an aura of raw power radiates from him. The very air around him seems to bend, acknowledging his dominance.

He moves with lethal grace, each step purposeful. With a mere gesture, he summons ethereal weapons, dispatching Tacet Discords with surgical precision. The creatures, once so terrifying, have become his playthings.

His eyes glow—brighter than the stars, colder than space.

The frequency thickens around him like a cloak of shadows alive and hungry. His Spectro resonance still hums at the core, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat like a ticking bomb.

In a blur of movement, Rover twists—hand slicing the TDs clean and efficiently, like a surgeon cutting through rotten flesh.

More surround him. A pulse of Havoc ignites—Dark Surge expanding. He warps forward, vanishing for a half second—then reappears behind them mid-spin, hurling his scythe from both hands. The Tacet Discords shudder before collapsing, torsos sliced clean.

You blink—and two more Tacet Discords have already fallen. You can’t even see how he did it.

You sigh in relief but damn it, he looks terrifyingly hot. That dark gleam in his eyes, the effortless precision, the sheer dominance in every move…

Yeah, you’re shaken, but a part of you? Still hopelessly down bad.

The adrenaline drains from your body like a snapped string. You can finally let go, but your limbs tremble uncontrollably. Now that the fear has passed, your body finally realizes just how close you came to dying.

A sharp crunch pulls your attention up.

Rover steps forward, walking toward your crouched form with slow, steady steps. The ground doesn’t quake beneath him anymore, and that unbearable frequency that had screamed around him moments ago has vanished. The pressure lifts.

Your Rover is back.

You wrap your arms tightly around yourself, heart pounding like a war drum as you watch him approach. He crouches in front of you, and for a moment, it’s like déjà vu—just like when you first met. That same soft smile curves his lips, like the battlefield around you doesn’t exist.

He extends a hand.

That’s it. You can’t hold it in anymore.

Tears spill over your cheeks—hot, heavy, unstoppable. The sob rips from your throat before you can even stop it. You were going to die. You were so close to being torn apart and—

You don’t even register him moving until his arms are around you, pulling you into a firm, grounding hug.

You bury your face in his chest, fists clutching the undershirt beneath his jacket like it’s the only thing anchoring you to reality.

One of his hands moves slowly over your back, tracing calming circles. The other cradles the back of your head gently, like you’re fragile glass and he’s terrified of cracking you.

And in that moment, you feel safe. Safe like never before. Not because the danger is gone.

But because he is here.

Your sobs have finally faded to sniffles. You rub your puffy eyes, shifting just a little away from his chest but still firmly in his embrace.

“I actually thought I was going to die,” you mutter, voice scratchy. “Like! I know I broke my personal record of staying alive for a week, which is amazing, but I still didn’t wanna die, you know?”

Rover hums softly, his gloved fingers gently threading through your hair. The motion is rhythmic, soothing. “You’re still alive,” he says, voice calm and warm. “See?” And there it is, that smile. Soft. Sweet. Heart-melting.

You’d fight twenty more Tacet Discords for that smile. Urm… hide behind him while he fights.

“Yeah… thanks to you,” you reply, trying to gently pry yourself from his hold.

Keyword: try.

His arms don’t budge.

“Rover… I think I’m okay now,” you laugh awkwardly. “We can head back to the city?”

You’re not sure why it came out as a question but somehow, when it comes to him, you feel like you need permission to even breathe.

Rover finally nods and lets go, though his eyes linger on you, scanning, calculating, checking every tiny tremble in your limbs.

You stand beside him, brushing dust off yourself as he steps ahead, leading the way. The silence is easy… until he speaks, like it’s casual small talk.

“I met with Primus. Can you guess what happened?”

He’s smiling, but... something’s off. You glance down and see his fists clenched so tight.

“Oh yeah!” you perk up, totally missing the tension. “I remember that quest—kind of. Doesn’t he like, talk in riddles about ‘The Maiden’ or whatever?”

You ramble, voice light and airy now, blissfully unaware that your words aren’t answering his question so much as distracting yourself.

“Mostly accurate, but he mentioned you as well. And threatened me, indirectly.”

You don’t notice how Rover’s gentle tone shifts—how frustration slips into the spaces between his words, how tightly he’s reining it in.

“Wait! Wait! Wait, what?! Am I ruining the plot?!” you blurt, wide-eyed. “No way! I don’t wanna get involved, nope. Rover, can you like—send me to Jinzhou? That place is super peaceful right now and it’d be perfect for me to start a new life in. Like then I won't have acolytes luring me into a place filled with Tds...”

Rover stops walking. There’s so much in your words that bugs him. The way you talk about leaving like it’s that simple...like he could ever let you go.

“So,” he mutters, as if confirming something to himself, “that’s what happened…”

Then louder, firm enough to cut through your spiral. “It’s okay. Nothing will happen to you.”

And he says it with such unshakable certainty, it doesn’t feel like reassurance, it feels like a threat to the universe itself. this is his vow to you.

You exhale. “Thank you…” The walk continues, and there’s a light brush of Rover’s hand against yours.

You hesitate, then test it, fingers creeping toward his, shy and slow. Like you’re asking a question without words.

And rather quickly, Rover answers.

He intertwines his fingers with yours, firm and grounding. No hesitation. Just his hand, holding yours, like he’s always meant to.

You grin to yourself, giggling inwardly like a little gremlin. Heheh, holding hands before marriage. How scandalous.

Well, you muse dramatically, we’ve held hands before… but this is different. This is sacred. Because I initiated it.

You beam with inner pride, your silly little heart puffing. Because yes, this moment matters. Because yes, you’re holding your husband’s hand.

Husband as in: you married him in your daydreams. Details, details.

As you and Rover entered Ragunna City again, you were immediately met with Carlotta. it seemed like she had been waiting for the two of you.

“Rover!” she called out, striding toward you both. Her expression brightened, then faltered the moment her gaze landed on you. Concern twisted across her face like a storm cloud. “Are you okay?! My goodness...”

“It was the Order,” Rover replied, his tone calm but clipped. Then, turning to Carlotta, he made a quiet request—asking for her help. His eyes found yours again. “I need to take care of something. Carlotta can be trusted, don’t worry. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Your hands were still interlocked—his grip firm, grounding. Then, with a final squeeze, he let go and walked away, his figure disappearing like a tether snapping loose.

You turned to Carlotta, awkwardly brushing back your disheveled hair. “Um… sorry for how I look? I feel like I offended you somehow.”

Carlotta blinked, clearly startled. “No, no! Please, be at ease. As I said before—Rover’s special person will be treated with the utmost care and respect. Please, follow me.”

She led you to her estate and provided a guest room stocked with fresh clothes. After a soothing shower and a change into soft, clean fabric, you collapsed into the bed like a soul exorcised of fatigue.

It wasn’t long before a gentle knock on the door pulled you from your nap. “Come in!”

Carlotta entered, a composed smile on her face, followed by a butler carrying a silver tray. Your mouth practically watered on reflex. The far end of the room revealed a small table and chairs. The butler wordlessly placed the tray down and exited with the elegance of a ghost. Carlotta gestured for you to sit with her, settling into one of the chairs with regal ease.

You took the seat across from her, and she offered you a genuine smile. “Don’t mind me. Please, dig in.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. The food was warm and familiar, like a safety blanket in edible form.

Finally relaxed, your guard temporarily down, you decided to bring up the thought that had been gnawing at your mind.

“So, I was thinking of going to Jinzhou. You know, that city in Huanglong...”

Carlotta tilted her head with interest, eyes glinting. “May I ask why?”

“I don’t feel safe in Ragunna City after the...” you hesitated, poking at your food, “You know... and Jinzhou is, like, very peaceful right now. A perfect place to not get attacked by anything!”

Carlotta nodded, leaning back and folding one leg over the other with the poise of a queen. “I can help you with that. Arrange transportation. I’ll make sure you arrive safely and are well taken care of once you’re inside the city.”

You gasped, hand pressed to your chest dramatically. “Omg! You would do that? Thank you so much!”

Carlotta nodded, her smile never faltering but her eyes held something calculating beneath the warmth. Of course, she had her own reasons. She was a woman of business, after all. And every investment had its return.

Carlotta had escorted you back to the hotel after receiving a message from Rover—he wouldn't be able to pick you up himself. You didn’t think much of it. Maybe he got caught up in something.

You made small talk with Carlotta.

Once you reached the hotel entrance, you turned to her with a small smile.

“Thanks... for walking with me. And for, well, everything,” you murmured, scratching your cheek awkwardly.

Carlotta smiled, her gaze softening. “Of course. Take care of yourself.”

You waved her goodbye, entering the building and making your way up the stairs, shoes clicking softly against the polished floor. As you reached your floor, something odd caught your eye. You noticed a door, just beside yours, was slightly ajar.

Curiosity won over common sense, and like the nosy little gremlin you were, you peeked.

And immediately regretted it. Who are you lying to? You didn't regret it a slightest bit.

Rover stood inside, his back to you, just as he was taking off his jacket. Then came the gloves, tossed onto a nearby chair. The strap across his chest followed, sliding off in one smooth motion. Then he reached for the hem of his shirt. That clingy, perfectly-fitted grey undershirt. He was halfway through tugging it off when your soul panicked.

You panicked, raising your fist and knocking loudly. Your eyes widened. Your cheeks caught fire.

Rover turned his head slightly, catching you in the corner of his eye, shirt now caught at his ribs, he lets go of it.

Your face flushed immediately.

He looked unfairly good like this—hair slightly tousled, collarbone peeking out, that necklace glinting against his skin like a silent warning.

“Oh, you’re back... safe and sound.” he said, voice dipped in honeyed relief. His eyes roamed over you, then lingered just a second too long. “Good.”

You cleared your throat and stepped inside like a guilty cat caught knocking over a vase. “I—uh—y-yeah, I just—sorry, I didn’t mean to peek or anything, I just—your door—it was open and—uh—” You were absolutely malfunctioning. “Your shirt is committing war crimes.”

Rover chuckled softly and didn’t press it. His smile was warm, and yet something about it felt strained, like there was static just under the surface. As he turned fully, the soft lighting dancing across his face, the shirt clinging to his muscles.

You cleared your throat, You sat down on the arm of a chair, legs swinging slightly. You figured now was a good time to talk. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you... about something.”

He tilted his head, eyebrows lifting as he leaned against the table. “I’m listening.”

“So… I kinda had a conversation with Carlotta while I was stuffing my face with food. And, well…” you paused, watching his hands still, You smiled awkwardly. “So... I talked to Carlotta. And she said she could help me get to Jinzhou. You know, because Ragunna’s not exactly ‘let’s settle down and bake cookies’ levels of safe.”

Rover’s smile didn’t vanish—it simply froze, like a painted expression.

“Oh?” he said, with an almost imperceptible pause.

His tone stayed even. “And why would you want to go there?”

“Like I told you before..” You shrugged. “I don’t feel safe here. I mean, what happened in the field? That’s not something I want a round two of. And Jinzhou's got, like… zen energy. I can heal a bit. And I think... I need that. I think I’d feel better there. You could come visit too, of course.” You grinned at him, clearly trying to keep the conversation light, because the strange, tense atmosphere is becoming suffocating.

“I see,” Rover said softly. He took a step closer. “Leaving is the right choice?”

“I mean… yeah?” you answered with a sheepish grin. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d miss you. A lot. You’re like the world’s best emotional support. Like—seriously. Who gave you permission to look that good covered in dust?”

That got a small laugh out of him but the tension didn’t fade. His fingers flexed slightly at his side.

Then your eyes caught something, on the edge of his undershirt sleeve, just beneath the fabric...

Your heart jumped, Blood. A faint, dark smear near the hem of his shirt.

Your lightheartedness fizzled. “Wait… are you hurt?” You stood, frowning. “Did something happen?”

Rover tilted his head, then looked down like he’d forgotten the evidence on him. “No,” he said quickly. “Not my blood.”

That did not make it better. Not his? You blinked. “Then whose—?”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” he said with a gentle smile, the kind that felt... wrong now. “You’re safe. That’s what matters.”

That strange calm in his voice made your skin crawl in the oddest way. You tried to shake it off. Your body stiffened instinctively.

After a pause, he looked at you again—this time softer, almost vulnerable.

“Will you stay?”

You hesitated. He waited. You shook your head slowly. “No. I mean, I care about you, and I have made that clear, I guess very clear… but I just don’t want to stay here anymore. It doesn’t feel right. I need space. Maybe you can come visit me in Jinzhou when you get a break or something?”

You smiled gently and stepped toward the door.

But it shut before you could touch the handle.

A hand pressed flat against the wood in front of you, and heat rushed down your spine. Rover was behind you now, close enough that you felt the weight of his presence in your bones.

“That,” he whispered, voice no longer gentle but absolute, “is not an option.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

You turned your head slightly, only to find his face right there, cheek against your hair, mouth near your ear.

“I didn’t believe you at first,” he began, voice barely above a whisper. “When you said all those things. About me. About this world. I thought you were just being poetic. But I listened. Every word. Every little slip. You’ve known me since the beginning, haven’t you?”

You slowly turned to face him. His eyes weren’t wide with madness. No. They were too calm. Too lucid. And that was so much worse. You backed up slightly but there was nowhere to go, Your back pressing against the door.

“You talk like you’ve always known me. From the beginning of my journey. Every choice I’ve made...you understand it before I even speak…”

He exhaled a laugh—short, humorless. “I started noticing things after I met you. Things I shouldn’t notice. The way the world shifts around us. The way time bends. The way... none of it feels real anymore.”

You blinked. “What are you talking about—?”

“I see it now,” he breathed. “The repetition. The scripted kindness. The way people pause just long enough for you to speak. I am in a story. I wholeheartedly believe you now...And you…”

He leans closer, his elbow bending, caging you gently between him and the door.

“You are the only unpredictable thing in this world. The only one who looks at me like I’m more than lines of code. The only one that feels real. Because you are the only one anchoring me to the real world.”

You could hear the tremble building under his voice, like a crack in the earth before the quake.

“I started wondering—what am I? A character in a story? A game? Made for people’s amusement?”

His voice broke, briefly. “Am I real, or just code wrapped in skin?”

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat.

“You’re the only thing that makes sense now,” he continued. “You’re the only one who doesn’t glitch. The only one who talks like she’s seen me.”

“Rover—”

“No. Listen. Do you understand what that means?” His hand cupped your cheek—soft, reverent, yet trembling with obsession barely restrained. “You are my anchor. Without you, this world dissolves. Without you, I become... just another piece of fiction.”

His forehead pressed against yours.

“I don’t want to forget how your voice sounds. I don’t want to wake up and realize I imagined you. I don't want to go back to a loop where you never existed.”

You felt his breath tremble against your lips.

“I need to know that I’m not just a story you’ll get tired of.”

Your heart thundered in your chest—part fear, part something far too complicated to name.

“I fucked up...” you whisper to yourself, barely audible.

Rover smiles.

That soft, puppy-like smile. The kind that used to melt your heart, the kind that once made you believe he could never hurt you. The kind that now feels like a mask.

He steps away for a moment—only to hook his fingers around your wrist with a gentle tug, pulling you back. You stumble, breath catching, and the back of your knees meets the edge of the bed with a muted thud.

“I notice everything about you,” he murmurs. “The way you dote on me... those little moments? They don’t go unnoticed.”

He extends his hand—like he always has. From the moment you met until now, it has always been there, waiting. Waiting for you to take it.

And you always did. With no hesitation. Sometimes even with joy.

But now...

Now you hesitate.

His hair is slightly disheveled, a few strands falling into his eyes. There’s a faint smear of blood at the hem of his grey shirt—crimson staining cotton like paint across canvas. When he tilts his head, the necklace he always wears catches the light, swinging like a pendulum.

Even now, in this moment, he looks so...Beautiful. Unreal.

“Don’t you want to be my wife?” His voice is low, coaxing. “Why hesitate now...?”

He says your name like a lover's prayer. Or a spell. Like the idea of you slipping away is unbearable. And it makes you ache to take his hand again.

“You said you loved me. Remember?”

His eyes widen. The desperation in them is stark, unhidden, raw. Wild. Like a man teetering on the edge of a cliff and calling it faith. Like falling is a choice... and dragging you down with him is a promise.

Then, in a voice so quiet it makes your stomach twist.

“So prove it.”

Your breath stutters. He was patient. He gave you your space, didn’t he? Gave you time to think. To breathe. He waited...

But patience is fragile.

And even if you run, it won’t matter. he’s the main character of this world. He knows that. he knows this world bends to him.

You can’t escape.

Everyone loves him, adores him. They always will. He’ll use that love, twist it into a cage so soft you won’t even know you’re inside it.

He sees it now, your fear. Sees the way your body tenses like a trembling leaf. He exhales, slow and measured, and steps into your space until there’s nothing left between you.

“Jinzhou,” he repeats, like he’s tasting the word. “You want to go there?”

You nod quickly, reflexively. Any wrong move could shift the moment. Could turn gentleness into something else entirely.

His hands lift, hovering in the air, waiting, Would you flinch? He would never do something that would push him away from you.

But you don’t flinch. You don’t move.

So he cups your cheeks with such tenderness it makes your skin crawl.

“There,” he whispers. “Relax. You can go to Jinzhou. I won’t stop you.”

You shiver. His voice is calm, but his eyes... those eyes aren’t the ones you fell in love with. They’re deeper now, darker, bottomless pits that don’t reflect light, only swallow it.

Because this world already belongs to me. I don’t need to lock you up to keep you.

“Don’t worry,” he soothes, fingers brushing along your jaw. “You’re safe. I’ll make sure of that.”

And you nod.

You lean into his touch because, in this world—whether you like it or not—he’s the only one who can protect you. The only one who won’t let you go.

Because This isn't pure love.

This is love born from obsession.

#yandere wuwa #yandere wuthering waves #wuwa x reader #wuthering waves x reader #wuthering waves #wuwa #yandere x reader #yandere #wuwa rover #wuwa rover x reader #yandere rover #male rover #male rover x reader

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sunshinehaze1 · 4 months ago

Text

Sizzlin’

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Summary: Your friend convinces you to attend a BBQ at her boyfriend’s friend’s house. The last thing you expected was meeting Frankie.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI. meet-cute, drinking (beers), slight dubcon (both reader and Frankie have had 2 beers, Frankie checks in), f!oral (it is Frankie, duh!), protected PiV, no use of Y/N

a/n: This was written for @yxtkiwiyxt’s NHIE Challenge. I received the prompt, “Never have I ever slept in someone else’s bed.” I LOVED this challenge and this was so much fun to write. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to my beautiful beta reader @80ssong 🥰

word count: 5,176

ao3 | ml

"Come on, his friends are really hot!"

Sabrina has been bugging you to attend a BBQ with her boyfriend's friends this weekend. They've been dating for over a year, and you've hung out with him a few times, but his golden retriever puppy energy can be overwhelming. He's a great guy, though, and he makes her happy. You're thrilled your closest friend has found someone who treats her right.

You roll your eyes. "I'm not looking to date right now."

"Who said anything about dating?" your friend counters. "You could just have some fun."

You brush her off at the suggestion. "Please, will you just come? His friends are a lot of fun."

Finally, you relent. "Ok, fine, I'll go. It's not like I had any plans this weekend anyway."

Sabrina lets out a delighted squeal and wraps you in a bear hug. "Perfect, I'll send you the address and meet you there at 3."

"Should I bring anything?" you ask as you walk your friend to the door.

"They're simple guys. Beer will do just fine." Sabrina waves goodbye and closes the door behind her.

—

With the address in the GPS and a couple of six packs in the passenger seat, you begin your drive. You're nervous about being in a new place and meeting new people, especially those who are "really hot." It's early fall in Florida, so you can still get away with wearing a sundress. The heat won't take a break for at least another two months, so you wear your favorite one to boost your confidence. "Fake it til you make it," right?

You pull into a quiet neighborhood. The streets are lined with older homes shaded with mature trees, dripping in Spanish moss. The GPS pings as you approach your final destination, and you park on the street in front of a one-story brick home with a driveway full of pickup trucks and Jeeps.

Before you exit the car, you take a final look in the rearview mirror to adjust your hair and ensure your makeup hasn't melted off. Taking a deep breath, you grab a six-pack in each hand and head toward the house.

—

"Pope, for fuck's sake!" A broad-shouldered man, who fills the entire door frame, swings the front door open just as you reach for the doorbell. Your arms flail in surprise, and you fumble to keep the beer from crashing onto the pavement.

"Oh, shit." the man startles. "Sorry about that; I was just going out to get something from my truck. Here, let me help you with those." His calloused hands brush over yours to grab the cartons from your hands.

"Um," you stammer. "Thank you." Sabrina definitely wasn't exaggerating. Benny's friends are hot—at least this one is.

You take him in, starting with broad shoulders covered in a washed-out maroon t-shirt underneath a chambray button-up. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off his sinewy forearms. You notice a small bullseye tattoo on his hand resting between his thumb and index finger. A ballcap with an unfamiliar logo sits atop a mop of brown curls, which peek out in the back. His eyes are a rich brown; crinkles form at the corners when he smiles wide, dimpling his right cheek.

You follow him inside the house. He sets down the beers and extends his hand to greet you. "I'm Frankie. You must be Sabrina's friend."

"It's nice to meet you, Frankie." His strong hand wraps around yours, and you introduce yourself.

Frankie quickly excuses himself and heads back outside to his truck.

—

"HEEYYYYYYYY!!!" you hear Sabrina sing-song as she walks into the house from the backyard. "You made it!" She greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug. She whispers in your ear teasingly, "So, I see you've met Frankie."

Shyly, "Yeah, we met. Almost lost a few beers in the process."

"I'm so glad you made it!" She drags you behind her toward the backyard. "Let me introduce you to everyone else."

You were surprised to see only Benny and two other men outside. This was a more intimate gathering than you had realized, immediately putting you at ease.

Sabrina introduces you to your host, Santiago, or "Pope," as you soon learn. Benny is two for two on the handsome friend count. He's shorter than Frankie, has dark hair and features, a broad smile, and a gregarious personality.

Next, you meet Benny's older brother, Will. Blonde hair, blue eyes, much more reserved than his brother. A strong, silent type. He seems content to be in his own world while he attends the grill.

You hear the grind of the sliding glass door behind you. Frankie walks through the threshold, waving a stack of folders in the air. "Got 'em!"

"My man!" Santiago slaps him on the back, "Thank you."

With his mission accomplished, Frankie finally has a chance to take you in fully. His gaze travels the length of your body, taking in your soft features and plush curves and admiring the cut of your dress, which perfectly accentuates your breasts, hips, and ass. The short length leaves your bare legs on full display.

—

The backyard is beautifully appointed with sable palms, hibiscus bushes, and a well-manicured lawn. There is a jacuzzi to the right of the grill, which doesn't surprise you; Santiago seems like a lady's man. No bachelor pad would be complete without a jacuzzi. Adirondack chairs encircle a small fire pit in the back corner of the yard. You reckon it only gets used during the short window when it is cold enough in Florida to have a fire and not melt.

"Food's almost ready," you hear Will call out.

Sabrina looks to you. "Come help me get the sides?"

You follow her back inside to the kitchen.

"What did I tell you?" Her eyes widened. "They're all hot, aren't they?"

You respond with a shy smile, "Yeah, you weren't lying."

She nudges her elbow against your arm while holding a bowl of potato salad. "I saw Frankie checking you out."

"You…" stammering out skeptically, "…no way?!"

"Yes, way! You look hot in that dress; why wouldn't he check you out?!"

You attempt to conceal your smile by focusing on the tiled floor. "He does seem nice."

"Oh, honey, he's not just nice! He's sweet, funny, and gorgeous," she whispers conspiratorially, "And it looks like he's packing some serious heat."

"Sabrina!" you scoff, playfully smacking her. "You're not supposed to be checking out your boyfriend's friend's package!"

"Says who? I can look, and you can touch to prove me right." She leaves you speechless, holding a tray of crudites, as she walks back outside, cooing to the boys that it's time to eat.

You make your way to the table with bench seats on either side. After you set the tray on the table, you take a moment to contemplate how to sit without exposing yourself in your short dress. Slowly, you lift your leg to straddle the bench, but your sandal catches, and you're thrown off balance. You brace yourself for an embarrassing fall until you feel strong forearms wrap around your waist to hold you steady. Frankie walking by at just the right time.

"Whoa, you alright there?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." sheepish and embarrassed, "Thank you."

He grabs your hand and says, "Here, let me." You begin your second attempt at climbing over the bench, flattening the back of your dress underneath you before you sit down.

Frankie looks down at you. "Would you like a drink?"

"That would be great, thank you." Anything to wash down the embarrassment and cool off from the heat of Frankie's touch.

He fishes out a bottle of beer from the cooler. Out of your periphery, you ogle him as he's bent over. His shirt stretched across his back, rugged khakis taut over his ass. You're suddenly much thirstier than you thought.

He returns to the table and sets the bottle before your plate. You feel the warmth radiating from his chest against your back, his bicep less than an inch from your face. A slight turn of your head and your nose would be in his armpit. You hold your breath, afraid that if you let yourself breathe in his scent, you'd succumb to the physiological response. That and the fear of getting caught sniffing a man you just met in front of his closest friends tempers your impulse.

Frankie sits across from you while the rest of the group sits around the table. Serving platters are passed around until the plates are full.

Frankie finds himself distracted by your sweetheart-necklined dress as everyone begins to eat. The hem curving over the top of your breasts, meeting in the middle at a point, which draws his attention to the tease of cleavage. He's completely ignored the clamor of conversation around him. Suddenly, a baby carrot lands in his lap, and he's brought back to the present. "Hermano, did you hear what I said?"

Frankie stumbles a response, "What's that?"

"Malo." Santiago shakes his head and huffs a laugh, "Pretty girl in front of you, and you lose all sense."

You feel the attention of the table shift to you and quickly avert your gaze, picking at the food on your plate and fixating on the pattern that outlines the rim of the dish. Your cheeks heat from the eyes burning into you. You're cautious about looking up to gauge Frankie's reaction; you don't want to become even more flustered.

Frankie flings the carrot back at Santiago, "Shut the fuck up, man!" But he's quick enough to bat it away before it hits him. The rest of the table erupts with laughter, allowing the awkwardness of the moment to dissipate, and you and Frankie join in.

Will asks, "So, how long have you and Sabrina been friends?"

You're thankful for the segue. "We lived on the same street growing up in Orlando. She followed when I moved to Tampa a few years ago for work."

Sabrina chimes in, "Yeah, you wouldn't make it here without me!" You both giggle.

"Sabrina tells me you all served together in the Army?" the men nod in unison.

They briefly share how Frankie, Santiago, and Will met in basic training. Benny joined their unit a couple of years later. They share minimal details about their deployments, not wanting to dredge up too many memories of that time, especially with new company present.

They've all retired from the Army and returned to civilian life. Will tours the state, speaking with personnel considering retirement from service. Santiago runs a security firm where Benny works. Benny is also an amateur MMA fighter, which Sabrina isn't fond of, but even she can admit he's really good. She's even told you that watching him fight does turn her on.

Lastly, you learn that Frankie has transitioned to civilian piloting and leads helicopter tours of the Bay. He has a four-year-old daughter, Lila. When he talks about her, his eyes sparkle. Clearly, she is the light of his life.

You hesitantly ask about her mom. You're nervous that this guy you've developed a crush on in a short period isn't single. "We split up over a year ago. It wasn't working, and we can be better parents to Lila this way."

You're impressed with Frankie's maturity and self-awareness, which enable him to have an amenable relationship with his ex. As a child of divorce with parents who were unable to put their grievances aside, you know how vital co-parenting is for a child. "I'm glad you could figure out what works best for you both and Lila."

Frankie nods before he takes a swig of beer. You watch as his thick fingers wrap around the bottle's neck. You're fixated on his throat; his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows the bitter IPA—the prominent vein on the side of his neck, with moles that dot along his tanned skin.

You and Frankie have been in a bubble. The friends surrounding you have been long forgotten as your conversation flows naturally. He has a calming presence that makes you feel comfortable and at ease. He's confident and funny, with a raspy laugh that takes over his whole face and radiates through him and a smile so broad that his eyes disappear.

Subtle flirting has become more overt. Your hands brush against his when you reach for the bowl of chips at the same time. You accidentally bump into him when you stretch your legs in front of you underneath the table. But he doesn't pull away, the rough sole of his shoe brushing gently against your bare leg. You glance at him with a sheepish grin, and he returns with a toothy smile. Fuck, he is handsome. Your eyes remain locked on each other, heat coiling within your body, and you sense the same in Frankie.

"I'm going to grab more ice for the cooler from the garage." Frankie stands up from the table, his eyes silently communicating to follow his lead.

As you get up from the table, you take his cue and ask, "Do you need any help?"

"Yeah, that would be great." A sly grin emerges. "Thanks!"

Frankie follows you through the door, his hand brushing softly against the small of your back. The contact sends shivers down your spine, and your pulse quickens as you feel his warm palm against the thin material of your dress.

"Garage is this way." Frankie guides you down the hall to the right of the kitchen.

When you turn the corner, Frankie is immediately on you. He is unable to hold back a second longer. He has you pinned against the wall, his arms bracketing you above your shoulders. Hunger swirls in his eyes, and you feel his breath against your cheek. He's so close to you that you're sure he can hear your heart beating.

"You are so god damn pretty." his finger trails along the strap of your dress and loops underneath, "And you're fucking killing me with this dress. I needed to get you alone."

A sigh escapes your lips, overwhelmed by his closeness and his touch on your bare shoulder. Unable to speak, Frankie fills the silence. "Can I kiss you?"

All you can manage is a nod, your bottom lip held between your teeth in anticipation.

He leans forward until his plush lips connect with yours. A moan escapes you both at the contact. What begins as a sweet, chaste kiss quickly becomes more intense.

He licks at the seam of your lips, seeking permission to enter. The bill of his hat hinders him, but he quickly flips it around to devour your mouth fully. It's a flurry of tangled tongues as he licks into your mouth. A groan escapes him when you grab his bottom lip between your teeth. A gentle nibble quickly soothed by the swipe of your tongue.

With his arm around your waist, he pulls you closer to him, the weight of his bulge pressing against your thigh. You feel wobbly even though you're sandwiched between Frankie's solid frame and the wall, forced to grip his shoulders for purchase to remain upright. Your fingers map the sinew of muscle along his traps and deltoids as he dives in for another kiss. Which somehow leaves you even more breathless than the last one.

The feverish kiss continues as he pulls you further down the hall. Twisted limbs tripping over each other, bumping into the walls, leaving picture frames askew. Spurts of laughter echo through the hallway as you fumble around, fingers tangled in the fabric of each other's clothes. His wide palms rest against your hips before snaking around to grip your ass cheeks. You can feel the slick arousal pool in your panties.

Emboldened by the drinks you had earlier and Frankie's attention, you suggest finding somewhere more private.

Frankie growls and grips your wrist, taking you further down the hall until you reach a threshold with a closed door. His arm reaches behind you to turn the knob, and you both fall into the dimly lit room. Dark curtains are draped in front of large windows, and the setting sun peeks through the gap in the fabric where they meet. You and Frankie stumble your way further into the room, hands groping manically over each other's bodies.

You slide Frankie's button-up shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Then, you tug the T-shirt underneath from the waistband of his pants. His hands travel under the hem of your dress, his fingers dimpling into the supple flesh. He shuffles you toward the bed and tosses you against it, giggling as you flail backward onto the soft mattress.

"Fuck, I could get used to that sound." he huffs.

Propped up on your elbows with one leg crossed over the other, you give him a coy smile. Frankie's eyes burn with lust as his gaze trails up your bare legs to your core. "I'm going to need you to open up, baby."

You slowly uncross your legs and spread them into a wide v. Frankie watches you intently, eyes focused on the pull of your dress up your thighs exposing the gusset of your panties, enraptured by the blooming wet spot caused by your arousal.

He hums as he falls to his knees. Leaning into your center with a deep inhale. "Fuck!" His palms warm on your thighs, his eyes pleading, "Can I?"

"Can you what, Frankie?" you tease.

"Can I taste you?" a desperate tone to his voice, "Please?"

You nod, and he's on you within seconds. His fingers slip into the sides of your panties, and you lift your hips so he can pull them off. Your slick folds glisten in the soft light of the room. "Fucking gorgeous cunt."

"Frankie, please."

"I got you. I got you."

The swipe of his tongue through your folds emphasizes his reassurance, and you cry out with relief. The whiskers of his beard brush against the sensitive skin. Frankie moans into your core as the sweet, musky taste of your arousal dances across his tongue. A sample is not nearly enough to satisfy him; he dives in for more.

Desperate for better access, he spreads your thighs further apart, pushing your legs up until your thighs meet your stomach. He holds you down with his palms flat against the back of your thighs. He leaves a wet trail along your skin as his arousal-soaked lips slowly kiss up and down your thighs. A gentle bite on your ass cheek sends a jolt of surprise through your body that you can't help but squeak out a laugh.

You can't even recover before the tip of his tongue journeys across your outer folds, looping around to the other side before sliding through your seam again. Up, up, up until he reaches your clit. His lips wrap around your sensitive nub. Sucking it into his mouth, lapping kitten licks with the tip of his tongue. Your body writhes below him, pulsating need coursing through your veins.

You reach between your legs, eager to feel any part of him, and yank the hat off his head. You fling it behind you, where it lands on the floor with a thud. His gorgeous hair is now unencumbered, your fingers free to roam through his soft curls. You grip the brown locks between your fingers and pull him further into your pussy, his nose bumps against your clit as he eats at you. "Fuck, frankie, you're incredible."

And he is. He really is. The best head you've ever experienced. Somebody who was a stranger just a few hours ago. You can't recall the last time you've been with such an enthusiastic lover. Especially one that is so wanton, eating at you, bringing you intense pleasure, and not making you feel like its a chore or an obligation.

You practically had to beg your ex to go down on you, and when he did, he expected you to return the favor. It never was about your pleasure. Frankie is different. He eats at you like it's his only way of survival, as if he'll die if you don't come by his tongue.

He groans into your cunt, shockwaves pulse through your body, at the precipice of your orgasm, "I'm so close."

Frankie, seeking relief from his painfully hard cock, reaches down to unfasten his pants. He releases his cock from his boxer briefs with a sigh. With a swipe of his hand, he gathers the precum that has leaked from his tip to coat his cock before he begins slow strokes up and down his length while he continues to devour your pussy, suckling at your clit. You're near the edge, ready to tumble forward as your legs shudder, the grip on his locks tighten. Your pussy begins to flutter around his tongue as you tumble over the edge, coating it in your release. "Frankie. Holy shit." you try to catch your breath. "Oh my god."

You lift his head from between your legs, and he reluctantly pulls away with a disappointed whimper. "Too much." you pant, "You're too fucking good at that."

Between your thighs, a crooked smile appears through his slick lips and his glossy eyes connect with yours, "Fuckin hell, you taste good."

Frankie moves from the floor and crawls up your body. The weight of his cock resting against your worn out pussy. He leans down to kiss you, leaving a trail of nibbles along your jawline until he reaches that soft spot behind your ear. Licking and sucking down the column of your neck to where it meets your shoulder. His tongue swipes along your collarbone as he slips the straps of your dress down your shoulders to reveal the lacy cups of your bra.

His lips traverse the plane of your chest, hot breath hovers over the supple skin spilling out of the cups. He grips the fabric of your bra between his teeth and pulls down one cup and then the other to release your tits. He lathes over each nipple, pulling the hardened buds between his lips, flicking them with the tip of his tongue before a gentle bite and releasing with a pop.

You emit a low moan at the combination of his mouth on your tits and his dick sliding through your soaked folds, the tip brushing against your sensitive clit.

"You're so beautiful." Frankie shakes his head in disbelief. "Do you want to keep going?"

As if it were even a question. Of course, you want to keep going, but you appreciate Frankie's check-in. You grabbed his head between your palms and brought him closer, eyes locked on his, sealing your enthusiastic "yes!" with a feverish kiss.

With that, Frankie sits back on his haunches and searches the room. He knows he doesn't have a condom in his wallet. He hasn't needed one in a while. Even if he did have one, it would have expired anyway. As he becomes more acquainted with his surroundings, he slowly realizes where you are and breathes out, "Fuck!"

You sit up in bed, holding the top of your dress against your chest. "What's wrong?"

"We ended up in Pope's room." he runs his palm over his face, scratching the whiskers of his chin. "And I don't have a condom."

You push aside the inevitable embarrassment you'll face for fucking in your host's bed and suggest with a mischievous grin, "Surely, Santiago has condoms."

The distraught look on Frankie's face disappears with a broad smile, and he shifts on the bed to open the nightstand drawer. When he opens the drawer, a Costco-sized box of condoms greets him. Relief washes over him, and he's grateful he doesn't have to cut things short with you.

He reaches into the box and pulls out a foil pocket. You lean back, propped up on your forearms to admire Frankie as he tears open the package between his teeth while stroking his cock with his other hand. Sabrina will be happy to know she was right. His cock is beautiful. Thick, long, and uncut. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him roll the condom down his length. His eyes never leave yours.

"Don't worry. It'll fit; I'll go slow." He reaches up to the neckline of his shirt, gripping its back and pulling it off in one smooth motion. "Lay back, baby."

He positions himself back over you. The broad expanse of his tan chest blocks the view of your surroundings. Not that it matters anyway; all of your attention is on Frankie. Captivated by his gorgeous face and the moles that scatter along his neck and sternum. You've already forgotten you're in Santiago's room, about to fuck this beautiful man, on his bed. He leans down to press a chaste kiss against your lips as he notches his tip at your entrance.

"You ready?" You nod, eager to feel him inside you.

It's been so long since you've had sex and you've never had a dick as large as Frankie's. As promised, he took things slow, feeding his cock inch by inch. Allowing time for your body to adjust before going further. There's a pleasurable stretch as your walls accommodate his girth and length as he reaches the hilt, kissing your cervix. "Pussy is just swallowing my cock, baby."

"It feels so good."

"Yeah?" He searches your face for any sign of discomfort. "You ready for me?"

"Yes! Fuck me, Frankie!"

Frankie pulls out until just the tip rests at your entrance. You whimper at the loss of him inside you, but he quickly soothes you with a thrust of his hips into you, pushing you further up the bed. He pulls out slowly, repeating the motion a few more times before he lands on a steady pace that has you seeing stars. "Hnngh, she's so tight." he moans, "Fuckin hell!"

"Harder, Frankie." you pant louder than you anticipated, "I can take it! Please, fuck me harder!"

Frankie slows his thrusts and quickly closes his palm over your mouth, "Shh. Shh. You gotta be quiet."

You hear the din and laughter from the backyard. You had been so distracted by Frankie's dick, you forgot you weren't entirely alone. "If I move my hand, can you be quiet?"

You nod. Frankie reignites his pace with more fervor this time. The tension built up over the afternoon finally comes to a head. Low moans rumble through you with each thrust. Your legs wrap around his hips.

"That's a good fucking girl." He reaches between your bodies to thumb at your clit. "I feel you squeezing me. Need you to come for me."

You scramble to reach the pillow behind you and hold it over your face to muffle your scream as you begin to pulse around his cock. Frankie continues to fuck you through your orgasm, his own imminent. It only takes a few more thrusts before he's spilling into the condom before he collapses onto you, breathless.

Your fingertips trail along the plane of his back and shoulders as his cock softens inside you. He peppers feather light kisses along your cheek before he reaches your lips and seals it with a searing kiss.

He pulls away to scan your face. "How are you feeling?"

"Perfect. Fucking incredible, Frankie"

—

You and Frankie sit together at the edge of the bed in your half-dressed, disheveled, fucked out state. The two of you savoring the afterglow of an incredible fuck and also delay the inevitable for as long as possible. You rest your head on Frankie's bare shoulder and express your embarrassment at a whopper of a first impression with his friends.

Frankie reassures you that it isn't that big of a deal. He kisses you gently on the temple and encourages you to get up so you both can rip off the bandaid. He scoops your dress up off the floor, and you flit around looking for your panties and bra while stealing glances at Frankie as he gets dressed.

When you're finally presentable, Frankie opens the bedroom door, motioning for you to go before him. As you head down the hallway, you're greeted with a chorus of cheers and slow claps.

"So, where's the ice?" You hear Benny boom out.

The group erupts in laughter, and you bury your face into Frankie's bicep. Standing next to Benny, Sabrina catches your eyes. With her palms facing each other, she subtly moves them closer and further apart, eyebrows quirking up. You avert your eyes to avoid her silent inquisition. You won't be able to handle her smugness over being correct about Frankie's size right now.

Frankie turns bright red while he stomachs pats on the back from his friends. Santi grips Frankie's shoulders from behind with a shake. "'Bout time you cleared out those cobwebs, hermano. But did it have to be on my fucking bed?"

—

You head back outside with the group for one last drink. Sabrina approaches you with a smile and wraps her arm over your shoulder to follow the guys. Another round of drinks is passed around, and fortunately, the topic of conversation has shifted quickly from your dalliance with Frankie.

Frankie sits next to you at the table, his thigh pressed against your bare skin.. He rests his hand just above your knee, offering a gentle squeeze. When you look up at him, his gaze focuses on you, and he smiles warmly.

The sun set a few hours ago, ushering in chillier air. Frankie notices you shiver. He pulls off his button-up and places it over your shoulders, returning his hand to your bare leg. You lean into him, savoring his warmth.

A few hours pass before you decide to call it a night, and Frankie offers to walk you to your car.

"It was really nice meeting you." You catch him nervously rubbing his hand against the back of his neck.

You grab his hand and squeeze, "You too, Frankie. I had a great time."

He smiles at this. "I'd love to see you again. Take you to dinner."

"I would love that!"

When you reach your car, you exchange numbers. With your back pressed against the door, Frankie's arm propped against the frame, he leans in for one last kiss. He squeezes your hip before he pulls away to open the door for you and as you turn to enter your car, he teasingly smacks your ass.

Before he shuts the car door, he offers, "Drive home safe. Let me know when you get home."

"I will." You nod. "I'll see you soon, Frankie!"

Frankie waits until you drive off before he turns to go back inside. A wide smile stretched across his face. A smile that won't be going anywhere any time soon. He's excited to find out what the future has in store for him, especially if that future includes you.

Thank you so much for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼

tagging some folks who engaged in my WIP posts on this fic: @peepawispunk @burntheedges @joelmillerisapunk @baronessvonglitter @ak-vintage @probablyreadinsmut @goodwithcheese @almostempty (please let me know if you’d like to be removed)

#nhie2025 #frankie morales #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal character fiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal #sizzlin’

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vxnuslogy · 6 months ago

Text

— the only exception.

pairing: rin itoshi x gn!reader

premise: itoshi rin isn’t a very likable person in general. he’s rude and doesn’t have any respect for anyone, well other than you. quite literally attached to the hip, you were the only one that rin actually ‘tolerates’. everyone still wonders why you even put up with him, but dear, if they actually cared enough to look past his icy exterior maybe then they’d be rewarded with the soft and clingy rin you knew.

— warnings: ooc-rin (??), just rin fluff

— author’s note: this is reupload from my old blog ( syriiina ). i also might start writing for bllk again so yippie!! art credits to @l_An_pi on twt.

— tags: @ryescapades @mitsvriii @laterosal @mikashisus @powchakko ; if you’d like to be tagged, please fill out the form on my pinned or send me an ask off anon!

“rin!” you shouted, hands frankly waving from the stands as the tall boy jogged towards you. leaning over the railing, hands neatly folded in front of you as you grinned at your sweaty friend who only raised a brow at you. “do you wanna go to the arcade later after practice?”

from the corner of your vision, you could see his teammates speak in hushed tones. you couldn’t help the amused chuckle in your throat as you patiently waited for rin to answer your invitation.

“why not?” you grinned, “we’ll be done in 10 minutes, mind waiting for me?” you just nodded and sat down on one of the vacant seats of the seating area while rin jogged back to the field with his teammates. laughing at how his team was interrogating the poor boy.

10 minutes flew by quickly, at this point you had stood up from your seat and made your way back to the entrance, waiting for rin to finish his shower and change. a few more minutes passed by before you heard the soft padding of footsteps behind you. it wasn’t long when a tap on your shoulder made you look up from your phone. grinning when familiar eyes with long under lashes came to greet you.

“you ready to go?” duffel bag carelessly slung over his shoulder, he followed you out of the school and to the arcade you had mentioned earlier. “you seem happy for a trip to the arcade.” he said, tugging at your hand slightly when you were near the crossing –he was making sure you didn’t get run over by a vehicle – before letting go and instead taking hold of your bag.

unlocking your phone, you showed rin of the new crane machine that had been installed a few days ago. “aren’t those machines scams?” he asked you, flailing your arms around a bit saying that’s not the point. he only sighed and let you ramble about how the plushies in the machine were cute.

“you’ll help me get one right?”

“no.”

you knew it was a lie.

by the time you made it to the arcade, you made a beeline to the new crane machine while rin got the tokens. he sighed again when he saw you beckoning him over, eager to play the scam machine to try and get a plushie that wasn’t even worth all the hassle.

“rin let’s go get lunch!”

no one was really surprised by your presence when you were by the door of the classroom, already anticipating your arrival minutes prior. it was exactly noon, meaning you’ll be by the classroom door waiting for itoshi rin to finish packing up to go get lunch at the cafeteria.

“no packed lunch today?” he asked, one hand shoved inside his pant pocket. you only shook your head, moving aside from the door to give room for rin to get out of the classroom, “not today, was too lazy to cook.”

as the taller male closed the door, everyone began to wonder as usual. someone as stoic and indifferent as itoshi rin hanging out with you, they thought of it as a strange combo but neither of you ever really bothered to care about how people perceived your relationship.

“i hope the strawberry cheesecake isn’t sold out yet.”

from the corner of his eye, rin saw the silver bracelet move along with your hand as you got your wallet out of your pockets. gaze lingering more than he should, “rin? you good there?” you asked but he only nodded his head. turning his focus on the corridor buzzing with students but every now and then, he’d take glances at you.

you always never bother pointing it out. you take pleasure in the simple normalcy routine with rin.

“sorry i’m hanging out with rin later! maybe next time?”

“i’ll pass for today, i promised rin i’d help him with homework.”

“i’m going to watch rin’s match, i’ll see you guys later!”

“oh right rin said he needed some new pens. be right back!”

“rin let’s go eat lunch! i packed a bento for the both of us!”

“not eating with itoshi today?” your friend asked as she pulled out the chair in front of you, taking out her own lunch and placing it on your table. you only shook your head, “already finished. he’s at practice now.”

her gaze lingered a little over your figure, you only tilted your head to the side, “is there something on my face?”

“no, no, it’s just…”

“just?” taking another bite of your lunch you patiently waited for your friend to ask her question.

“you and itoshi seem really close.”

you just shrugged, continuing to eat your lunch as she sighed. the both of you were enveloped in silence for a while before she asked another question.

“i’m a bit surprised you put up with him. i mean, didn’t you say you don’t really like people like him?”

that question made you stop chewing and begin to ponder. it didn’t take long for you to come up with an answer, “he isn’t so bad if you get to know him well enough.” you said with a smile. almost laughing at your friend’s face as she gave you a bewildered face.

“seriously? he didn’t brainwash you or anything did he?”

letting out a laugh, you waved your hand, “you watch way too many movies. no, he didn’t brainwash me or anything.”she sighed and just continued to eat her lunch.

itoshi rin may not be the most likable student, but you like him. he may not show it but he truly does care. all does impromptu visits to arcades, tugging at your sleeve, arm, and even hand in some occasions to make sure you didn’t stray too far from him, getting you those plushies in the crane machine even if it takes hours, coming over to your place to help you cook lunch for the next day because he knows you hate the food in the cafeteria most of the time, giving you his jersey so you could wear it during his match. itoshi rin shows his affection in his own unique and simple ways.

they don’t know him like you do. they knew the rin who’s stoic, rude, disrespectful and arrogant. but you? the rin you know is kind, caring, sweet, a bit rough around the edges but he’s your rin. the rin you wouldn’t trade for the world.

if only they knew that he was the one that gifted you the silver bracelet that adorned your wrist – his name engraved on the inside – when he first confessed. and they’ll never know how there’s a silver chain around his neck with a ring – your initial delicately engraved on it – that he always wears no matter where he goes.

no one knows of your relationship. no one needed to know of your relationship.

rin from the very beginning was a private person, and you never minded. after all, why would you complain when you have him all for yourself?

#rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi fluff #blue lock x you #blue lock fluff #bllk x you #bllk fluff #rin itoshi imagines #rin itoshi headcanons #blue lock imagines #blue lock headcanons #bllk imagines #bllk headcanons #blue lock #bllk #rin itoshi #( 🂡 ) – royal flush of stories .ᐟ

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fayerie · 1 month ago

Text

You woke up to the sound of Gojo Satoru’s off-key humming, only to find the bed empty and the kitchen filled with chaos.

Soft rays of sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains of the penthouse windows, spilling golden warmth across the bed. You stirred from a deep, well-earned sleep, your body heavy with rest. Blinking against the morning light, you opened your eyes once, groaned, then rolled over, burying your face into the pillow.

Another yawn slipped past your lips as you reluctantly opened your eyes again, stretching just enough to rub the sleep from them. A muffled clatter echoed from somewhere beyond the bedroom, followed by a very off-key hum. You sat up slowly, your limbs moving as if underwater, turning to glance at the other side of the bed—empty.

Strange.

Gojo never woke up this early on weekends. Especially not without waking you first just to be annoying.

Still half-asleep, you pushed yourself out of bed, fingers instinctively running through your hair in an attempt to tame the wild mess that had formed overnight. It stuck up in odd directions, as if trying to reach for divine knowledge—or maybe just defying gravity out of spite.

Your bare feet padded softly across the floor as you shuffled toward the kitchen. The sight that greeted you at the doorway made you pause mid-step, unsure whether your heart was melting or if you were about to laugh yourself into a hernia. Maybe both.

Gojo Satoru stood at the stove in your oversized bathrobe, humming happily—loudly, terribly—while trying to flip a pancake. The batter had gone rogue, sliding sideways across the pan in a shape that could only be described as “aggressively not round.” He bit his tongue in concentration, brows furrowed slightly, his ridiculously ethereal blue eyes focused with the intensity of a man preparing for war.

You watched him inspect each finished pancake like a fine art collector evaluating a new masterpiece.

As if sensing your gaze, he turned toward you, a wide, boyish grin lighting up his face. Without warning, he launched into motion, his abnormally long legs striding across the kitchen as he opened his arms wide for a dramatic embrace.

“Babyyy...” he sang out cheerfully.

You hummed in response, still too groggy for words, and allowed yourself to melt into his arms, pressing your cheek against his chest. The first thing that came to mind tumbled lazily from your lips.

“Mornin’... Toruu…”

“Morning, pretty,” he beamed, swaying the both of you gently. “What do you think of this look, hmm?” He twirled once, letting the robe flow like a cape behind him. “Satoru, but domestic.”

You blinked at him, then muttered against his chest, “Odd. But… you look good.”

He gasped—dramatically, of course—clutching the spatula to his chest as if wounded. “You wound me!” he declared, flailing the arm that held the steaming spatula for theatrical flair, while the other rested protectively on your head, mindful not to hit you with his antics.

You ignored his theatrics—barely—as you looked up at him from where your face rested against his chest. His warmth was comforting, familiar, like the smell of morning and home wrapped in one. But the second your eyes met his, you caught it—that slight shift in his expression. That big, cocky grin of his softened just a little, a tender gleam flickering behind those striking blue eyes.

Without a word, his hands came down to cradle your face, cupping it with practiced ease. He started his usual routine—gently squeezing your cheeks, then pinching them lightly, over and over again in a rhythm that had somehow become part of your mornings. He always did this. Like it was his version of a good morning kiss, but infinitely more chaotic and oddly affectionate.

“Why are you up so early?” you mumbled, voice still drowsy as your brows pinched together. “It’s only 8:30… you could’ve slept in some more. Or, I don’t know, woken me up?”

He grinned wider, still pinching your cheeks between sentences. “Missed my presence in bed?” he teased, his voice dipping into that familiar sing-song tone. “Can’t say I blame you. I’d miss me too.” He tilted his chin upward, clearly proud of himself and the line he just delivered.

You scoffed, narrowing your eyes playfully. Without warning, your fingers reached beneath the robe and pinched his nipple.

“OW—okay, okay!” he yelped, flinching like you’d delivered a finishing blow. “Jeez, violence this early in the morning? What happened to love and affection?”

You arched a brow. “Says the man who assaults my cheeks daily.”

He grinned again, softer this time. “Wanted to make you breakfast,” he admitted, shrugging one shoulder as he rubbed the spot you pinched. “I set an alarm and everything. You’ve been busy lately. So…” He leaned down, pressing a brief kiss to the top of your head. “Me, being the best boyfriend ever, swooped in to the rescue.”

Your heart tugged at his words. The thought of Gojo—chronically allergic to responsibility—waking up early just to cook something for you? The visual was enough to make your chest ache with affection. Even if the kitchen looked like a flour bomb had gone off.

You leaned into his chest, eyes fluttering shut again, soothed by his voice, his warmth, his everything.

“You really are the best,” you murmured, half-asleep.

He grinned, arms tightening around you as he whispered into your hair, “Told you. Best boyfriend ever.”

And there, in the kitchen smelling faintly of pancakes and burnt batter, you stayed wrapped in each other, letting the morning bloom slowly between your hearts.

#jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #jjk men #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #riiee!writes

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tjwritesfanfics · 25 days ago

Text

Going to Lose You (Erik Campbell)

Pairing: Erik Campbell x Reader

Summary: Your dreams seem to be more against you than you thought.

Rating: Angst

Warnings: Character Death, Reader has almost a dream premonition about Erik and Bobby's deaths, Graphic descriptions of death, Blood, Spoilers for Final Destination Bloodlines (Just in case someone hasn't seen it yet)

Words: 1.5k

Main Masterlist | AU where they live

The lights flicker ominously, dread filling your stomach. Why were you in a hospital? Where was Erik and Bobby? They were beside you a moment ago, but now they seem to be gone.

But it wasn’t just them that was gone, the whole hospital seemed to be empty.

“Erik? Bobby?” You call out, eyes scanning the open doors and the hallways.

It was quiet. Way too quiet that when a scream cut through, you could tell exactly where it was coming from. And who it was coming from.

Your heart sank as you took off running. Running, running, and running. The hallway seeming stretching forever.

You try to scream, but nothing comes out.

Finally, you reach the door where the sound originated from. You yank on the handle with all your might, but it doesn’t budge. You pound on the door, calling for Erik, but the only sound could be heard was his blood curdling screams.

Looking into the window on the door, your heart stops.

All time seems to slow down as you watch the scene unfold before you.

The phone flies out of Erik’s hand, straight onto the activated MRI machine.

‘No no no!’ You try the handle again, smacking the door when it again doesn't open.

All you could do was watch in horror as one by one, Erik’s piercings are ripped from his body, his screams intense with pain.

Tears sting your eyes. Your lungs burn. But even all of that couldn’t compare to the way Erik must be feeling. The wheelchair that was behind him launched air born, slamming into him and forcing his body to the machine.

The metal starts to bend, rattling and shaking, the force of it drawing Erik further in.

His back bends, arms flail as they try to grip the machine, and finally when you could see his face, blood was gushing from his mouth. The pain and fear in his eyes cutting you.

“Erik!!” You cry but knowing you couldn’t do anything for him as he finally succumbed to his injuries, dying right in front of you.

The click of the door draws your attention from the gruesome scene.

It was open.

You open the door to find Bobby crawling on the floor, face puffed and red, gasping for air, crawling towards his brother's dead body.

You wanted to move, wanted to help, but your feet seemed glued to the floor. All you could do was watch as Bobby grabbed his EpiPen and stabbed it into his leg, the medicine immediately taking effect.

He slowly stands up and looks towards you, his eyes seemingly seeming to focus past you, almost as if you weren’t really there.

Different metal items fly past you, missing Bobby and landing on the MRI machine. The relieved sigh he lets out is heartbreaking.

“I’m okay.” He smiles briefly before another metal item flies seemingly through your body and towards him. You only have seconds to register what was happening before the spring lodges itself into Bobby’s forehead, twisting as the metal digs deeper, blood pouring from the wound.

You sob and scream as Bobby’s limp body falls to the floor.

“Hey! Hey! Babe, wake up!”

Your eyes snap open and Erik was there, hovering over you, his eyes wide and worried.

Shooting up, you grab his shoulders, looking him over and searching for any form of injury. All you could see was the tattoos decorating his bare skin, his nipple piercings still in place, the only sign of an injury was the bandage wrapped on his forearm.

You force your mind to focus, trying to remember how he got that. The tattoo parlor. That’s right, it burned down, and your boyfriend was almost killed, but he survived with the only thing saving him was the leather jacket you gave him for his birthday last year.

Under the bandage was not only a fresh tattoo, but a heart brand that he got during the fire.

Once you see that he is alright and not crushed you pull him in, crushing him in your embrace, arms shaking as they wrap around him.

“Hey, it’s okay. You were having a nightmare.” He whispers in your ear, his arms strong and secure as he holds you. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Erik continued to rock you for a few minutes, waiting for you to feel calm enough to talk to him. He knew that the past few days had been devastating so of course you were having bad dreams. Erik just hoped he could help you through whatever this one was like you had helped him.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Y you,” You take a deep breath, “and Bobby. A hospital. You guys died.”

You could tell he wanted to groan, not happy that his cousin’s crazy talk about death being after the family and his brush with death that night was getting to you, but all he did was hold you tighter.

“Look, today may not be the best of days, but I’m here. Bobby is here. Death can’t touch us, and it wasn’t going to in the first place.”

Erik pulled back to look at you, smiling a little when you try to cling to him, and gripped your face in his hands. His eyes soften when they look at you.

You take him in, really look at him. Despite his words and the firmness in his tone, you couldn’t help the knot in your stomach.

The dream just felt so real. Something about it just continued to linger even after Erik lays down with you, stroking your back before he falls asleep.

You had no idea what the next day would have entailed when you fell asleep in Erik’s arms that night. Julia’s death. Finding out that Erik wasn’t a part of the cursed bloodline. The sickening relief that knowledge brought you.

You held onto Erik to stop him from pacing around the room.

“Yes, Erik, I know that Jerry Fenbury is the worst possible thing for a father, but hey this means you won’t die.”

“I don’t want any of them to die!” He shouted, pulling away from you.

“And you think I do?!”

“There has to be something we can do. Something I can do.”

Erik glances out his window, seeing his family all standing around his brother, almost like a protective circle as they head to the RV.

“I have to protect him.” He marched out of his room, his determination sending panic through you.

You follow him down the stairs and outside.

“Oi!” Erik yells. “Any of you fuckers do a nut check?”

“You made cookies in there with peanut butter.” You fill in when you see everyone's confused looks, “Bobby’s allergy is so severe even a whiff of it will kill him.”

“Where is the peanut butter?” Erik went into the RV once his aunt told him where to find it.

Your mind whirled as you watched the exchange in front of you. Erik got rid of the peanut butter and once he was sure his brother was okay, after giving him a quick hit in the balls, he came to stand by your side.

The two of you watched as his family piled into the RV. You could feel the worry rolling off him no matter how hard he tried to hide it. You take his hand, squeezing it, trying to hold on for dear life as you knew what was about to happen next.

“Please tell me I can talk you out of it.”

“Someone has to protect him.”

You close your eyes and nod, the sinking feeling in your gut only intensifying, tears stinging your eyes. “Return to me?”

Erik cupped your face, his lips finding yours in a harsh kiss, putting all his emotion into it. Just in case this was the last time he saw you.

“You can’t get rid of me. I’m like a cockroach, surviving everything.”

“That’s disgusting, Erik.” You smile and kiss him again quickly, pushing him towards the RV. “Go. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And with that, Erik turned and got into the RV. You watched as it pulled out of the driveway and onto the street, disappearing out of sight.

That was the last time you saw Erik Campbell. The last words you spoke to him.

“Your supposed to be a cockroach, you stupid fuck.” You swore down at the grave, Erik’s name along with his date of birth to the date of his death engraved into the stone, then looked beside it to the grave where Bobby was.

“And you.” You take a deep breath in, exhaling on a shudder. “Paco misses you.”

You look over to where Brenda stands by the car, a tissue pressed to her bloodshot eyes. It was time to leave, time to join her. You may have only been Erik’s girlfriend, but now you were her family.

You look back at the graves one last time.

“May we meet again.”

#erik campbell x reader #erik campbell #final destination #final destination bloodlines #final destination fanfic #fd bloodlines #richard harmon #final destination 6

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revelboo · 23 days ago

Note

My coworker: So what are your plans for the weekend? ☺️

Me: Oh not much. Just doing life stuff and probably reading some Transformers fanfiction 🙂

Me inside: I'm gonna read about getting dicked down by giant alien robots 🫠🫠🫠

🤣 what’s wrong with that? 🔞 🌶️

My Favorite Accident Pt 17

Knockout x Reader x Breakdown

• Struggling to wiggle out of his hands as he carries you, arm swinging slightly to make you nauseous, you alternate between demanding he let you go and threatening. Because there’s a good chance this asshole is going to drown you on purpose and pretend it’s an accident. Especially when you see the big container he grabs and starts filling. To the top. Shit. “Wait-wait! Don’t you dare!” Clawing trying to hang onto his servos as his hand lifts and he lets go and you’re screaming as you hit the water, still fully dressed. “I can’t swim, you asshole!”

• What? Humans swim. He’s seen them do it. Almost certain you’re just messing with him, except, that’s some fragged up looking swimming. Flailing and gasping, hands clawing at the side of the energon cube. And frag. You actually can’t swim. “For frag’s sake,” he growls, reaching for you as you go under and his servos wrap around your squirming form, hauling you out as you cough up water, thrashing like a mad thing to batter yourself against his servos. “You’re fine.” Probably.

• Coughing and retching as your chest burns, you slump against his servos. “Fuck you,” you groan as he vents like you’re inconveniencing him as he carries you to a stall and you flinch as warm water pelts you. And he’s scowling down at you, likely disappointed you didn’t drown. Except he’d almost immediately fished you out after realizing you weren’t just being dramatic. Making you think maybe he’s not as big an asshole as you first thought. Or he just didn’t want his boyfriend pissed at him for killing you within five minutes of being trusted with you. You’re betting on the latter. Especially when he plucks at your sodden clothes. “Not on your life,” you growl, smacking his servo hard enough your hand stings when he tries to tug your shirt off over your head.

• “You stink,” he growls. Though truthfully, you mostly smell like Knockout and it’s driving him crazy. Hates his partner’s scent on you. That scent is only supposed to be clinging to him, no one else. Especially not some squishy, little pain in his aft. And you finally give up, swearing nonstop as he strips you and holds you in the spray. Venting when Knockout pokes his head in to check on him like he’s incapable of washing you and hands him an impossibly tiny bottle of cleanser as you tell him he’s an ‘absolute dick of a friend.’

• Chuckling and wincing when Breakdown pops the bottle trying to open it and gets it all over you, Knockout crosses his arms and watches you squirm and scream threats as Breakdown washes you. Replacing his scent with Breakdown’s own and a shiver of heat runs through him at that thought. Your softness with Breakdown’s musk. And your scent clinging to his partner as he rides the bigger mech. “Hurry up, I don’t like being kept waiting,” he calls out and Breakdown freezes, engine revving as he catches on. Hearing you screech at Breakdown for rubbing a servo between your thighs, the mech not even paying attention to what he’s doing.

#transformers x reader #knockout x reader #tfp knockout #breakdown x reader #tfp breakdown #valveplug

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twst-aceofhearts · 15 days ago

Note

can you do a reader x jamil and kalim (separate or poly!) where the reader goes non verbal when dealing with strong emotions? like mostly sad ones but sometimes their just super happy they csnt focus on words :)) self indulgent but yeah, please and thank you! ☀️

Say It Without Saying it

a/n: what a creative title, Athena :| words: jamil - 448 || kalim 400 || total 848 taglist: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe @oya-oya-okay @writingattemptsxx

"When the Words Won't Come"

Jamil wasn’t startled the first time it happened.

He was concerned, though—because you had looked like you wanted to say something. Your mouth opened, your fingers twitched like you were reaching for an invisible lifeline, and then… nothing. No sound. Just a look in your eyes that made his chest tighten.

You had been helping him clean up the Scarabia lounge late at night, humming softly with a kind smile. But a casual comment from another student—cruel, in the way some people were without even realizing—slipped through the hall like a blade.

“They’re just clinging to Scarabia because no one else wants them.”

Jamil had turned, ready to tell them off, but by the time he reached you, the brightness had drained from your expression.

You wouldn’t—or couldn’t—speak. You only shook your head, lips pressed tight, eyes glossy with hurt.

“…You’re not talking,” he observed gently, kneeling to your level. “You don’t have to. I’m not going to push.”

He’d grown up watching people bottle things up, wear masks. He knew what it looked like when someone wanted to speak but the world pressed too hard on their chest.

Instead of asking you to explain, Jamil did something rare for him: he offered quiet comfort. He extended his hand, palm up.

You stared for a long second—then slipped your fingers into his, and squeezed.

That was enough.

That became your language: a press of his hand when you were overwhelmed, a subtle tap on his sleeve when you needed a break. And he learned—oh, he learned quickly.

If your fingers trembled but you smiled? You were happy—too happy, maybe, to form the right words. He’d joke quietly, “Did I stun you speechless again?” and smirk when you rolled your eyes.

When you shook your head and looked at the floor, shoulders stiff, he’d silently hand you your favorite tea and sit beside you, letting you lean into him until your body stopped bracing against the world.

Over time, he never asked you to “talk about it” unless he saw the signs that you wanted to try. And if you just nodded or tapped his arm twice, he’d guide the conversation, fill the silences, protect the space around you.

It wasn’t always easy.

But Jamil never treated your nonverbal moments like a problem.

Just another part of the way you spoke—softly, with gestures and glances, instead of sound.

And when you finally whispered, months later, “I love you,” after one of those long stretches of silence—

He didn’t say anything at first.

He just leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours.

Then whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it:

“…I knew. You’ve been telling me all along.”

"Too Much Joy for Words"

Kalim was the first person to ever laugh when you went nonverbal.

Not at you—with you.

You’d just returned from a successful class presentation, beaming, eyes wide and shining. You tried to explain how thrilled you were, to say thank you for his help and encouragement, but the words knotted in your chest.

Your hands flailed in excited gestures. You pointed to the paper, gave two thumbs-up, and practically bounced on your toes.

Kalim clapped.

“I get it, I get it! You’re super happy, right?” he beamed. “That’s so great!! I’m proud of you!!”

You let out a breathy laugh, grateful. Your brain couldn’t quite focus on speech—but Kalim was meeting you on your level. He understood.

When you were sad, it was harder. Your face would go blank, eyes distant, your hands fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. That time in the courtyard, when you overheard a group whispering about you behind your back, you’d found yourself freezing up again.

No words.

Just ache.

Kalim had been mid-sentence when he saw your expression shift. He stopped, gently took your hand, and asked softly, “Did something happen?”

You didn’t answer.

But you didn’t pull away.

So he squeezed your hand and gave you the most patient smile he could muster.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ll stay right here.”

You ended up in the Scarabia dorm, curled in a pile of pillows and sunshine-colored blankets, while Kalim played the oud in the background. He told you about a silly dream he had, about a festival in his homeland, about his pet elephant eating an entire watermelon in one bite.

You smiled. You didn’t say a word, but he noticed your shoulders relaxed.

Sometimes, when the silence was heavy, Kalim would put both hands to his cheeks and grin.

“Do you wanna tell me with hand signs? Or I can just guess! Oh, oh—wait, you want a snack, right?”

(You hadn’t even been hungry—but his enthusiasm was so contagious you ended up eating a cookie anyway.)

And when you finally were ready—when the words made their way back to your lips—he’d blink in surprise, then smile softly.

“Hey! There you are.”

Then hug you.

Tightly.

Because whether you spoke or not, Kalim always wanted you to know:

He could hear your heart, loud and clear.

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edenesth · 9 months ago

Text

TWTHH Bonus: The Little Lotus Blooms

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

A/N: This takes place after all of the members' spinoffs. It's probably best for you to finish everything before reading this, but it can also be read if you do not mind spoilers and have no intention of reading the spinoffs.

Fic Masterlist | Spinoff Masterlist

"Still stuck on the baby's name, I see," came the familiar voice that never failed to both irritate and amuse your husband. Seonghwa smirked, his hand still gently rubbing your tummy. "And what does that have anything to do with you?"

The dressmaker scoffed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense as he approached. "It has everything to do with me, especially since I'm clearly going to be the godfather of this little one."

You smiled, but before you could respond, the general spoke first. "In your dreams, Kim Hongjoong. You won't be this one's godfather, so it's time to let go of that fantasy. If you're so eager to be a father, I suggest you focus on having one of your own. After all, you're about to have a Mrs. of your own soon enough."

Before Hongjoong could form a coherent response, he sputtered and flailed, completely caught off guard by the mention of his upcoming wedding. His face flushed a deep crimson, and for a moment, he looked utterly lost. After what felt like an eternity, he finally managed to find his voice.

"T-that's… none of your business!" he stammered, clearly flustered. After all, it had taken him forever to gather the courage to propose to poor Miss Baek. The lengthy courtship had almost convinced the girl's family that the dressmaker had no real intention of marriage, leading to whispered doubts that he was just stringing their daughter along. He hadn't heard the end of it until the day he finally asked for her hand.

Just as he opened his mouth to shoot back a retort at Seonghwa, another voice broke into the conversation.

"About damn time, Kim!" Yunho called out, his deep laughter filling the room as he approached. The physician looked far too smug, and the gleam of amusement in his eyes only made Hongjoong's face burn brighter. The dressmaker shot him a glare.

"Don't get all cocky just because you got married slightly earlier than I did!" the older male of the two snapped, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest. "What are you even doing here?! The dinner isn't for hours."

The general and his wife shared a knowing look, unable to stifle their chuckles as the doctor raised a brow at the accusation.

"I could ask you the same," Yunho replied, unfazed. He gestured to the bags of medical supplies at his feet. "I'm here to ensure the mistress is in optimal condition before meeting everyone, of course."

Hongjoong sniffed, waving a dismissive hand before gesturing to the garments draped over his arm—a collection of beautifully embroidered hanboks. "And I'm here to ensure she looks as stunning as always. Just as important as you, Jung. Don't flatter yourself. I understand good health is essential," he added, glancing the taller man up and down pointedly. "But clearly, a complete lack of fashion sense can be just as problematic."

Yunho's eyes widened in sheer offence. "Excuse me? What do you mean, a lack of fashion sense?! My wife said I looked—"

The dressmaker lifted a hand, silencing him immediately. "Of course she did, my friend. She's your wife; she has to say that. But I'm not, so I can be brutally honest."

Yunho's mouth opened, then closed again, clearly affronted. "You—"

"Don't take it too personally," Seonghwa interjected, his smirk deepening as he rested a protective hand over your belly. "You know how he is. The moment there's even a whiff of competition, he'll immediately declare himself the best at whatever it is."

"Which is everything," Hongjoong sniffed, lifting his chin proudly.

"That's debatable," the general drawled with a pointed look.

Hongjoong's mouth opened, ready with a comeback, but the doctor raised a hand to cut him off, the irritation from earlier melting into weary acceptance. "Alright, alright, let's get back to why I'm actually here—to make sure our dear Lady Park and the baby are doing well."

The dressmaker rolled his eyes dramatically, waving Yunho off with a dismissive flick of his hand. "Fine, do your little check-up. But once you're done, it's my turn. I have real work to attend to—unlike some people who just poke needles into others all day."

Yunho sighed, dragging a hand down his face in feigned exasperation, while Seonghwa and you exchanged amused looks. They were always like this—bickering, teasing, and turning even the simplest interactions into a spectacle of humour and banter.

You smiled softly. Thinking back to when you first met them all, you never could have imagined that your husband's closest friends would become yours too, filling your life with such unexpected warmth.

Jongho sighed heavily as he stepped into the room, his gaze zeroing in on the dressmaker with a look of pure exasperation. "I swear, there can never be peace with you around. I told you to come an hour later, but you never listen—"

Hongjoong immediately raised a fist, eyes narrowing in mock indignation. "Watch your tone! I'm still older than you," he warned, but the assistant only rolled his eyes, unfazed as he reached out and unceremoniously grabbed the dressmaker by the sleeve.

"And if you don't cooperate, I'll tell Miss Baek you were being difficult again."

That instantly shut him up. The effect was almost comical—the once-feisty designer went rigid, then muttered something unintelligible under his breath before letting the younger man drag him out of the room. The rest of you couldn't hold back your laughter, chuckling at how quickly Hongjoong folded at the mere mention of his fiancée. It was a sight that never got old.

"Well," the physician grinned, shaking his head in amusement, "looks like we've finally found his weakness."

The general chuckled, his gaze lingering on the doorway where the two had vanished. "It's not just him. Look at the rest of us," he said, raising a brow knowingly.

You pressed your lips together, trying to stifle a smile as Yunho continued his check-up, his touch gentle and practised as he listened for the baby's heartbeat. He looked so different now compared to when you'd first met—less guarded, more at ease. The once-serious physician now wore a relaxed smile as he worked. Miss Ryu truly had softened him, just like Miss Kwon had done for Jongho.

Your heart swelled at the thought. Absentmindedly, you rubbed your belly, glancing up at your husband with a soft expression. "They've all changed, haven't they?" you murmured quietly.

His eyes warmed as they met yours, his gaze filled with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. "Yes, they have. Just like I have," he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. "All thanks to you."

Warmth spread through your chest, and you shifted your gaze back to Yunho, then to the door where Hongjoong and Jongho had disappeared moments before. A sense of anticipation bubbled within you as you thought of the others you'd be seeing later—San, Mingi, and Wooyoung, who had become like brothers to you, and, of course... Prince Yeosang, your dearest friend.

As you imagined future gatherings, you could already see a bustling and heartwarming scene filled with little ones running around, laughter and shouts echoing through the halls, and these men transforming into doting fathers and playful uncles.

Gosh, you could hardly wait to see it all unfold. The future seemed so bright and full of promise, and you knew, deep in your heart, that it would only get better from here.

"What's got you so deep in thought, my lady?" the dressmaker asked with a gentle smile as he carefully painted the signature flower on your forehead—the perfect final touch, as always.

You hesitated, biting your lip. "Do you think His Highness will come?"

Hongjoong scoffed lightly. "I genuinely have no idea, my lady. He seems awfully busy with his new princess," he remarked, and you nodded, a wide smile blooming on your lips.

"He is, and I'm so happy he's finally found someone."

"Then why does it matter if the prince is here?" he teased, raising an eyebrow. "Everyone already knows I'm going to be this little one's godfather anyway."

You clicked your tongue playfully, rolling your eyes. "Here we go again. I wouldn't be so confident if I were you."

He placed his hands on his hips, feigning offence. "I'm your idiot husband's oldest friend; it only makes sense that I get the title. The rest should just accept it and fall in line."

You burst into laughter, shaking your head at his stubbornness. When he finally finished, he stepped back, giving you a once-over before softening, then moved to sit across from you. "You look stunning, my lady."

"Thank you, Joong, for always reminding me of that," you said warmly. "But flattery won't get you anywhere—I've already made up my mind, and it won't be you."

He shot up from his seat, gasping dramatically. "What do you mean it won't be me?! You can't do this to me!"

Before you could respond, the doors to the House of Lotus swung open, and your husband entered. This time, however, he wasn't alone. In his arms, nestled close and bundled in delicate silks, was a little something—or rather, someone—very dear to your heart.

"That's enough, Kim Hongjoong," Seonghwa drawled, his voice tinged with mock annoyance as he stepped forward. "How greedy can you be, huh? You're already Yeonjoo's godfather. I'm not giving you the title again for our next child."

Your heart swelled at the sight—the way it always did whenever you saw your little princess cradled in her father's loving embrace. Her soft giggles filled the room as her tiny fingers curled around his sleeve, and a smile spread across your face. That's right—Hongjoong had been named godfather to your firstborn two years ago. Much to your disappointment, the prince hadn't been able to attend her birth celebration despite his promise, but you understood. He had new priorities and commitments. Still, a small part of you hoped he'd be here this time—for the sake of old memories, and perhaps to provide a sense of closure.

The dressmaker's eyes lit up, and his earlier sulkiness vanished as he nearly skipped forward, excitement radiating off him. "Oh, my little Yeonjoo!" he cooed, his face softening as he reached out to take her carefully from your husband's arms.

"Ugh, fine," he muttered, holding her close and gently stroking her hair as if she were the most delicate thing in the world. "I bet you're just trying to spare my precious Yeonjoo from getting jealous. I suppose one of those other losers can have the honour for the next one," he grumbled, pouting slightly as he gazed down at the little girl.

You chuckled softly at his dramatic tone. Titles aside, it was clear Hongjoong adored your daughter deeply. She looked up at him with wide, shining eyes and a bright smile that could melt even the sternest of hearts, and it was obvious she shared that affection. You watched, warmth flooding your chest, as she patted his cheek clumsily, babbling a string of sweet nonsense that made the man's expression melt into a delighted grin.

"See? Even she agrees," he sniffed proudly, shooting a triumphant look at Seonghwa.

The general rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, but the fondness in his gaze was unmistakable. "Just because my daughter doesn't know better yet doesn't mean I'll indulge you."

"Your appa's just being mean," Hongjoong murmured softly to Yeonjoo, his voice filled with exaggerated sympathy. The little girl giggled, her laughter bright and clear. "But don't worry, sweetheart. You'll always be godfather's number one."

You shook your head, laughter bubbling in your chest as you watched them. "Honestly, Joong, you're going to spoil her rotten."

"Going to?" Seonghwa quirked a brow, looking amused. "He already has." Then he turned his gaze to you, his eyes softening. "But I think our princess deserves to be spoiled a little, don't you?"

You smiled up at him. "Of course. Only the best for our little girl."

"Well, since I won't be the next one's godfather," Hongjoong said, feigning indifference, "who are you going to pick? Don't tell me you're actually considering one of those blockheads."

You exchanged a knowing look with your husband before turning back to the dressmaker, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "Maybe. Or maybe I have someone else in mind entirely."

As if on cue, Eunsook, your head maid, appeared at the entrance and offered a respectful bow, her smile warm. Right beside her was Miss Kwon, the ever-diligent maternity expert, who immediately stepped forward, carefully guiding you to your feet.

"The guests have arrived, master and mistress," Eunsook announced softly.

Hongjoong sighed dramatically but complied, reluctantly handing Yeonjoo back to her father. "I suppose I should join the rest of those ruffians then," he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the child's cheek before straightening up with a smirk. "See you out there, General and Lady Park."

With one last playful wink, the dressmaker slipped out, leaving the room with a swirl of elegant robes. Your heart fluttered in anticipation, excitement bubbling up within you. You were going to see all your friends again—the people who had become your family over the years.

As Seonghwa cradled your daughter close, his free hand reached for yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You glanced up at him, smiling softly, and he returned the look, his gaze brimming with unspoken emotions. Together, you made your way toward the hall.

"You look well, my lady. Did the medication I recommended help with your sleep disturbances?" Royal Physician Ahn asked as she approached, her voice gentle yet laced with the attentiveness of a true healer. It was the first chance she'd had to speak with you after the initial rounds of greetings exchanged. You had grown fond of her since meeting her at the royal banquet, and especially so after Mingi had begun openly courting her. Since then, she'd been a constant presence in your life, whether by her own will or by His Majesty's orders, assisting in your care both during the last birth and your current pregnancy.

You nodded warmly, squeezing her hand in return. "It did, Physician Ahn. It worked like magic. I've been sleeping like a baby lately, all thanks to you."

Her shoulders relaxed visibly, and she let out a soft sigh of relief. You couldn't help the grin that tugged at your lips as you leaned closer, your tone turning mischievous. "Congratulations on your engagement, by the way. Who would have thought Officer Song had it in him to win you over, hm?"

A delicate blush painted her cheeks as she stammered, utterly flustered. But before you could tease her further, a tall shadow loomed beside her, and Mingi stepped in, a broad grin spreading across his face as he slid an arm around his fiancée's shoulders. "Now, now, Lady Park, let's not overwhelm her," he chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with affection. "You know she's still not used to all the attention."

"I'm simply complimenting your success, Officer Song," you shot back playfully. "It's not every day someone catches the interest of the Royal Physician."

Mingi's grin widened, but before he could respond, another voice interjected, stealing your attention.

"Look at you, Lady Park. It feels like just yesterday we were celebrating little Yeonjoo's birth, and now, here we are again, awaiting another mini Park. You and the general certainly don't waste time, do you?" Scholar Moon's teasing tone cut through the room as she approached, linked arm-in-arm with her husband, Royal Secretary Choi.

You felt your cheeks flame at the comment, especially when San shot his wife a chiding look and squeezed her arm as if to gently rein her in. "Darling, don't embarrass the lady," he murmured softly, though the amusement in his eyes belied his words.

You tried to sputter a reply, mortified, but before you could get a word out, a familiar warmth appeared at your side. Your husband was suddenly there, his presence solid and reassuring, a small, amused smirk playing at his lips. He looked so effortlessly charming, and it made your heart flutter just looking at him.

"Indeed, we don't waste time," he agreed smoothly, his gaze shifting playfully to Scholar Moon. "But perhaps it's time you and San hurry up and have one of your own as well, Scholar Moon."

Her mouth fell open in shock, eyes widening as she spluttered, "I—! We're not—!"

"I don't think we're quite there yet," Secretary Choi intervened gently, though his strained smile hinted at his own embarrassment. His eyes flicked between you and the general before landing back on his wife, whose face was now a bright shade of red.

Stifling a laugh, you nudged Seonghwa lightly. "Behave, Hwa," you murmured, though your grin betrayed your halfhearted scolding.

"But it's true, isn't it?" he persisted with mock innocence, raising an eyebrow. "Everyone knows San's eager to start a family. Why not make it official?" He cast the secretary's wife a pointed look, making her blush deepen to an alarming shade.

"You—!" she started, but before she could finish, a joyful peal of laughter rang out from across the room. You turned your head just in time to see Investigator Jung cradling Yeonjoo in his arms with his partner hovering close beside him with an adoring look on her face as she watched the two of them.

"Yeonjoo certainly knows how to charm everyone, doesn't she?" Miss Han remarked warmly, her gaze softening as she looked up at the little girl. "Just look at her. She's going to be quite the heartbreaker one day."

Wooyoung chuckled, gently bouncing the child and eliciting a delighted squeal from her. "With parents like these two? There's no doubt about it." He glanced over at you and Seonghwa, his playful expression turning sincere. "Congratulations again, General, Lady Park. Your family is truly blessed."

"Thank you, Wooyoung," you replied softly, watching as your daughter gurgled happily in his arms. Your gaze shifted to Miss Han, her presence calm and grounding beside him. "And I hope it's not long before we're congratulating the two of you as well."

She blushed, her eyes darting to Wooyoung, who just laughed, the sound rich and unburdened. "Perhaps soon," he murmured, a hint of promise in his voice. "But for now, let's focus on celebrating you."

It was then that you caught Miss Ryu's gaze from across the room—her smile brightening the moment your eyes met. Now officially Yunho's wife, she looked radiant as ever as she hurried over, her husband trailing behind her with a knowing grin.

"Oh, you're glowing, my lady. I'm convinced this one's a son," she said, her voice lilting with excitement.

The physician chuckled softly beside her. "She's been saying that for months now," he teased, gently squeezing her shoulder.

You shared a hopeful glance with Seonghwa before turning back to her. "Thank you. We've been hoping for a boy too," you admitted, warmth filling your chest at the thought.

Before anyone could say more, Hongjoong sauntered over, his arm loosely wrapped around his fiancée's back. "I'm sure having a son is nice and all," he scoffed lightly, "but are you positive that's why she's glowing?" His gaze turned mischievous as he leaned forward, clearly fishing for compliments.

Miss Baek's eyes widened, and she gave him a small nudge, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Joong, please…"

But the dressmaker, being himself, merely shot her a wink. He cast a playful look at the physician's wife, who raised a brow in challenge. The teasing rivalry between them was no secret, and it extended to their spouses as well.

"If you think it's your makeup skills making her glow, I'm going to have to scientifically explain to you why it's a lot more than just your artificial tools enhancing her appearance," the herbalist shot back with a laugh, her words soft yet precise. Her analytical nature was showing, and it made Yunho's smile grow wider.

Hongjoong's jaw dropped, feigning outrage. "Excuse me? Are you doubting my artistic abilities, Mrs. Jung?"

Just then, Jongho appeared, his hand linked with Miss Kwon's as they joined the growing circle. He rolled his eyes, already looking exasperated. "Please, don't start. I swear, every time you two are in the same room, it turns into a debate."

You stifled a laugh, shaking your head as you glanced around at the gathered group. Yet, despite the lively chatter and warm company, there was still a lingering sense of something—someone—missing. You found yourself scanning the room again, your heart dipping slightly as you realised that perhaps he truly wasn't coming after all. Maybe the promises of friendship had been nothing more than a polite white lie to comfort you back then. Perhaps…

"Apologies for our tardiness! It felt like the entire city decided to celebrate with us today—the crowds made it nearly impossible for our carriage to get through smoothly."

The deep, familiar voice cut through the air, and everyone's heads whipped around in unison. After a moment of stunned silence, they quickly bowed deeply, voices mingling in a respectful murmur.

"These subjects greet Your Highnesses."

Yeosang and his wife exchanged quick, flustered glances before raising their hands to stop the gesture. "Oh no, please! There's no need for such formality," the newly minted fourth princess said warmly. "We're here as friends today."

It was your first time meeting her, but her grace and kindness were immediately apparent, and you found yourself thinking how perfectly she complemented the prince. Your heart, which had felt heavy just moments ago, lightened at the sight of the couple as they stepped forward to join the circle.

The fourth prince's gaze found yours, and he flashed you a familiar, boyish grin. "I hope we haven't missed too much. Please, let the princess and me know how we can make up for our tardiness."

Your smile softened warmly. "Better late than never, Your Highnesses." You glanced at your husband, a sense of peace washing over you as he gave you a gentle, encouraging nod.

"No need to worry," you continued with a welcoming tone. "You haven't missed anything major. After all, the main event can't truly begin without the new baby's godparents present." The royal couple's eyes widened in surprise at your words, while the rest of your friends cheered.

"And you can make up for being late by accepting the role," General Park added with a teasing smile.

And that is all, folks. This is the final chapter and it officially concludes the TWTHH series. It's a bittersweet feeling to end it; it's undoubtedly one of my proudest creations, but I'm also super excited to finally be able to work on newer things!

Once again, I just want to thank each and every one of you for being with me on this journey. I hope this epilogue was decent! Perhaps some of you might not agree with who I've chosen to be little Park's godfather (but my heart wants what it wants lmfao). Y'all, let me know your thoughts! It'd be awesome if you could share a bit about how you stumbled upon this story and what you liked about it! <3

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@soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol |

@atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii |

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@miaatiny @thewitchesofart @minghaoslatina @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @jan-l |

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@wlv-asteria @wolfgurl2600-blog @maoyueze @aboateez @the-kpop-simp

@itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr |

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#edenesth #the way to his heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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lootandlore · 3 months ago

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I LIKE YOU IN RED

➙ Stiles Stilinski x Goth!F!Reader

➙ Stiles was always a bit of a mess in the face of a compliment, especially when it came from a girl. More specifically when it came from the, as Lydia Martin would say, Morticia Adam’s of Beacon Hills.

what to expect…flirty fluff, stiles being a complete flustered fool, reader is definitely doing this on purpose for many reasons.

More Stiles x Goth!F!Reader Here

STILES WAS sitting in class, his leg bouncing rapidly as he stared at the teachers illegible handwriting on the board.

Coach was out for the first time in a billion years, leaving them with a sub who very clearly wanted to be anywhere else. Halfheartedly talking the students through the lesson. Voice so dull stiles found himself considering slamming his head repeatedly onto his desk for a moment of relief.

In fact, he even knocked his knuckles into the wooden desk to see how tough the surface was. If it would do the right amount of damage to keep him from having to listen to another second of whatever the hell was going on ahead of him.

He became so engrossed in his thoughts of sweet freedom that he hadn’t even realized his tapping had caught the attention of the girl behind him.

Which was surprising considering he’d all but nearly thrown himself into the chair in front of her at the start of class. Craving a chance to be close to her, even if it was to never even sneak a glance or so much as whisper a hello.

She tipped her head to the side, long wavy hair flowing over her black lace sleeves. Her lips, painted black were curved around the cap of her pen. Smoked out lids creasing as she observed him from behind. Thick liner raising on her features as she smiled.

The girl had noticed Stiles on various occasions.

When he first bumped into her freshman year and he all but blurted out that he had a hunch she was a vampire in her face. He expected her to slap him, however she simply giggled and said how flattered she was.

During lunch when he’s not so discreetly staring her down with a dumb look on his face. Nearly slamming his head onto his lunch tray whenever Scott redirects his attention to whatever nonsense they’re discussing.

Or, the memory she’s most fond of, was when he’d managed to trip and slam right into her in the library. He’d forced them both onto the floor right beside the gothic horror novels.

He spluttered and panicked, turning bright red while staring her down from above. She grinned and simply turned her head. Plucking the novel she’d been searching for off the bottom shelf.

She could recall how her heart ached in that moment, how pretty she thought he looked all red for her.

If he hadn’t sprinted from the library whispering out a frantic ‘oh god’ then perhaps she would have told him.

However, now, sat behind him. Listening to his tapping. She couldn’t help but to notice his red flannel. How red, whether it be his clothes or his cheeks, did suit him.

Very well.

She ripped a corner of her notebook off and wrote in an elegant script. Her black ink smudging against the side of her hand as she went. Nails tapping the table accidentally as she folded up the newly formed note.

Despite her attire the girl was still relatively shy when it came to being forward. Therefore she waited until class was complete to reach over and slip it into his flannel pocket.

Leaning down to whisper sweetly in his ear, her lipstick likely leaving a small bit of transfer on the tip as she spoke.

Stiles mouth dropped open the second her fingers brushed his chest. Her lips brushing his ear making him fist his fingers together and cover his mouth. Slouching down in order to hide his horribly obvious panic.

“You look pretty in red”

Then she was gone, walking off with a grin. His eyes were wide as he watched her go. Brain filled with static at the abrupt attention he’d been given.

It wasn’t until he got home that he even realized she’d given him a note. His hands frantically flailing about to catch the paper that fell from his top when he went to change out of it.

Mouth opening and closing like a fish as he stared down at her handwriting.

‘Meet me in the library tomorrow before class x’

#teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski fluff #stiles x reader #stiles x goth!reader

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 11 months ago

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Platonic Yandere Sea Monster

The ocean is a dangerous entity

Known for her high waves, immeasurable depths, and eternal mysteries

She entices millions into her cold embrace every day

Many of whom are devoured by said mysteries leaving no trace

One of its greatest mysteries is a creature who’s been roaming beneath the surface of the earth for eons

So it truly is a special occasion that Maelstrom breaks this streak for a feast on a private yacht

It’s far too easy how this new (to him) bipedal species gawks and helplessly flails while he sucks the bones out of their soft skin

He doesn’t care for the soft innards that the skin holds

He does like how their screams gurgle and warble as he delights in their crunchy bones

So he makes it his mission to devour or turn into water

And he’s sure that he’s done so with all of the little crunchy snack bags on the ship

Until he’s led into a cramped little closet with a tiny version of the springy boxes he’d found before

On it was a wailing babe—you

Now that he’s recognized

Because for all the different species evolution has brought it a crying infant was a common denominator

And you were crying hard

Whether you were the sibling or offspring of some ill-thinking teen or an overworked employee of the crew the one who was going to care for you was gone

And Maelstorm knew that

On the account that he’s certain he’d still be hearing your incessant crying on the entirely silent yacht, he molds his water-like body into something more like the ‘human skin bags’

Letting his face bulge and bubble with the vague memory of his meal’s screaming faces until you stop crying

“There…there…my pearl.”

It’s been so long since he’s been awake to have a pet

Surely it won’t be too hard

…right?

“Aaaaghh!”

“You’re not hungry, you’re not sleepy, you’ve already gone to the bathroom! WHAT IS IT!?”

He’s never been so stressed out

Stressed out trying to stop your little face from contorting anymore as you empty your little lungs and exhaust your little vocal cords

He eventually decides he does need help and uses one of the less rotted bodies to go on land and learn among these skin bags so that he knows what to do

“Oh poor sir looks like they’re just hungry for some warm hugs.”

“Is that…really all?”

“Why of course! Babies really hinge on your emotions and attention.”

After he takes in the ‘nurse’s’ wisdom he begins to feel something new

Something full of jealousy that has him snatching your swaddled form before giving a light pat that turns her into a puddle on the floor

Maelstorm easily finds another skin-bag with a nice face to take the body of

Leaving with a skip in his step while the ‘skin-bags’ authorities baffled over the only remnant of a missing ‘nurse’

“I see now to avoid this awful feeling I must make sure all my affection is being given to my pearl.”

From there you can be sure that you’re entire life will be filled with Maelstorm learning about the negative emotions he can get as you grow

True there will be many positive feelings

But he learns that to protect those precious new feelings

Barricading you on abandoned ships and attacking all the skin-bags that come to keep it that way

And even when you grow into the adults he’d previously snacked on

He won’t completely leave humans alone

He pulls back on this snacking habit only because he sees more of you in them

But he’s not going to stop eating them

Especially when he finds your attention drifting from him as you crave more socialization

“As far as I’m concerned all we need is each other. Now do I have to eat this entire village or will you go back to our boat?”

#yandere x you #yandere x reader #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere monster #platonic yanderes #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #yandere platonic #yandere sea monster #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere platonic oc Maelstorm #yandere original character #yandere original characters #yandere original character x reader

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justarkive · 4 months ago

Text

TABLE 3 | JJK ch6

“For good service, and cute waitresses.”

pairing: pre!military jk x waitress/secret fuckbuddy!oc

warnings: profanity, angst, humour, fluff, celebrity au, idol!jungkook , jungkook shows up unannounced, angst at the end :( oc finds something which makes her rlly upset, FLIRT. jungkook. they are quite literally so into eachother. he catches her stalking him (sorry guys, i had to.)

wc: short n sweet today guys </3

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: @jenniebyrubies @dreamersparacosm @darklove2020

masterlist < prev | next >

The morning sun filters through the blinds, streaks of light painting lazy patterns across the walls. You blink against the brightness, groaning softly as the weight of last night lingers in your body—not in a bad way, but in that way where reality feels just a little softer, like a dream still clinging to the edges of your mind.

There’s a weight beside you, the warmth of another body tucked comfortably into your side, and when you finally force yourself to turn, you see Nari sprawled across your bed, mouth slightly open, one arm draped over her forehead dramatically. She’s still out cold.

You blink, piecing things together, and the memories from last night rush in—the way you and Jungkook had sat together outside, the way his voice had dipped when he asked if you’d ever listened to his music, the way his eyes lingered a second too long before Nari had pulled up.

And then the aftermath.

Nari had driven you home, but the second you’d stepped inside, it was like you’d both been hit with a second wind. She’d barely even gotten her shoes off before launching into questions, voice high and excited as she demanded every little detail.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. You guys were looking at each other like… like…” she’d flailed, eyes wide, “like you were the main characters in a romance drama. It was disgusting.”

You had only laughed, cheeks warm, shoving at her shoulder. “It was not that deep.”

“No, babe, it was,” she had insisted, leaning in, eyes twinkling. “So? How do you feel? What are you thinking? Are you like, head over heels already, or are we still in the honeymoon denial phase?”

And so it had gone. You’d ended up talking for hours, the energy of the night refusing to die down, until at some point, the exhaustion had hit all at once. One minute you’d been lying on your bed, still caught up in conversation, and the next, Nari had been out like a light, curled up next to you, and you hadn’t been far behind.

Now, as you blink against the morning, everything feels just a little surreal.

Nari shifts beside you, letting out a dramatic groan as she stretches. “Mmm, why is the sun attacking me?”

You laugh, reaching over to nudge her. “Because you insisted on sleeping with the blinds open. ‘Natural light is the best alarm clock,’ remember?”

She groans louder, rolling onto her stomach and burying her face in a pillow. “I was a fool.”

You sit up, stretching your arms above your head. “Come on, we need to get ready. We have work.”

At that, she lifts her head just enough to peek at you, a slow grin forming. “Ohhh, you mean you have another excuse to check your phone all shift?”

You roll your eyes, shoving her again, but she only laughs, sitting up and ruffling her hair. “I don’t blame you, though,” she says, hopping out of bed. “If Jungkook was texting me, I’d be obsessed too.”

“I’m not obsessed,” you mumble, but your cheeks betray you, warming at the thought.

Nari wiggles her brows as she makes her way to the bathroom. “Mhm. Keep telling yourself that.”

The morning goes by in a blur of getting dressed, brushing teeth, and trying to shake off the lingering sleepiness. By the time you’re both ready, it’s like clockwork—grabbing bags, slipping on shoes, and heading out together.

—

Work is… work. The usual rush of customers, the clatter of dishes, the low hum of conversation filling the air. But there’s something different about today.

Or rather, there’s something different about you.

Your phone buzzes in your apron pocket, and despite knowing you shouldn’t, you can’t help the way your fingers itch to check it.

[ iMessage ]

Jungkook: hows work? missing me much?

You bite back a smile, shaking your head.

Y/N: dont flatter yourself too much, and it’s boring, same old.

Jungkook: Too late. You thinking about me?

Y/N: I’m thinking about how I have actual work to do.

Jungkook: But still texting me. Interesting.

You scoff, but before you can type a reply, a voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Oh my god, you cannot be serious.”

You look up just in time to see Nari smirking at you from behind the counter, arms crossed.

“You have been glued to your phone all day,” she teases, leaning in. “Is it him? It’s him, isn’t it?”

You huff, slipping your phone back into your pocket. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She gasps, placing a hand over her chest dramatically. “Wow. Lying to your best friend? This is serious.”

Before you can retaliate, a customer approaches, forcing Nari to straighten up and greet them with her usual bright smile. But as you go back to work, you catch her watching you out of the corner of your eye, that knowing smirk still playing at her lips.

And maybe, just maybe, she has a point.

By the time your shift ends, you’re exhausted, feet aching and mind still buzzing. You barely have time to get comfortable when your phone lights up again.

Jungkook: home yet?

Y/N: yeah, just arrived wbu?

Jungkook: Good. You left something with me, by the way.

You frown, sitting up a little.

Y/N: ??

Jungkook: Guess you’ll just have to see.

Your brows furrow, confusion settling in, but before you can ask what he means, there’s a knock at your door.

Your heart stops. No way.

Scrambling off the couch, you hurry to the door, barely remembering to check the peephole before swinging it open. And there he is.

Jungkook, standing in your doorway, looking way too pleased with himself.

In his hand, he holds something up—a tube of lip gloss.

“You left this,” he says, smirking.

You stare at him, processing. “You—”

“Figured you’d want it back,” he adds, voice light, teasing.

Your jaw drops. “You could have just told me! What if someone saw you? What if—”

He grins, stepping forward slightly. “Relax. No one saw me. I promise.”

You hesitate, searching his face for any sign of uncertainty, but he looks so… content. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Then, softer, “I’m sorry. Should I go?”

Something in you hesitates. You should probably be annoyed, but the truth is, you don’t want him to leave.

You sigh, stepping aside. “Just… come in.”

His smile widens as he steps past you.

“Ignore the mess,” you add quickly, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

He chuckles, looking around. “Looks fine to me.”

And just like that, he’s here, in your space, and your heart is racing for reasons you don’t entirely understand.

But one thing’s for sure.

You really, really don’t want him to leave.

“You want anything to eat?” you ask, already making your way toward the kitchen.

Jungkook follows lazily, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie as he leans against the doorway. “I’m not complaining if you’ve got something.”

You hum, opening the fridge, scanning its contents. “Uh, I don’t have much. Just… some leftovers, snacks, instant ramen.” You glance at him over your shoulder. “That work for you?”

He grins. “Instant ramen sounds perfect.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab two packets and start preparing them. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you as you move around the kitchen, filling the pot with water, waiting for it to boil. There’s something oddly comfortable about it—having him here, leaning against the counter like he belongs.

“Your place is nice,” he muses, eyes drifting around. “Very… you.”

You scoff. “What does that even mean?”

He smirks. “I don’t know. Cozy. Lived in.” His eyes flicker to the corner of the room, where a small collection of potted plants sits near the window. “You really like plants, huh?”

You glance at them, smiling softly. “Yeah. They give me something to look after.”

Jungkook nods, stepping closer to get a better look. “I get that. I have a dog—Bam. He’s basically my kid at this point.”

Your lips curl into a grin. “I think taking care of a whole dog is a lot harder than a few plants.”

“Maybe,” he admits, “but they both need love, right?”

Something about the way he says it makes your chest tighten just a little. You turn back to the ramen, stirring absentmindedly. “That’s sweet.”

A comfortable silence settles between you as you finish cooking. A few minutes later, you’re both curled up on the couch, bowls in hand, eating in companionable quiet.

Jungkook glances around again, his gaze landing on a small shelf filled with books and framed pictures. Setting his bowl down, he stands and makes his way over, examining them.

“You and Nari, huh?” he muses, picking up a photo of the two of you, arms thrown around each other, wide grins on your faces.

You swallow your mouthful of noodles, nodding. “Yeah. We’re really close, if you cant tell.”

“Oh i can, trust me.” He tilts his head slightly. “You’ve known each other long?”

You nod again, settling into the couch. “Since I started working at the restaurant. It’s been… what, five years now? She was one of the only people who talked to me when I first got there. I was kind of an outsider, didn’t really know how things worked. But Nari showed me the ropes. We’ve been inseparable ever since.”

Jungkook’s lips curve into a soft smile as he places the photo back. “That’s nice. It’s rare to find people like that.”

You glance up at him. “What about you? Do you have a best friend?”

There’s a slight hesitation before he answers, like he’s carefully choosing his words. “Yeah. I mean, I’m close with all my members—we’re like family at this point. No- we are family actually- and I have friends outside of work, too.” He looks at you, a small, knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “Why? You jealous?”

You roll your eyes, but your cheeks warm nonetheless. “Oh, totally. Just dying to be your best friend.”

He chuckles, plopping back down onto the couch beside you. “I mean, you’re already halfway there.”

You shoot him a look. “Oh, really?”

“Mhm,” he hums, nudging you playfully.

You shake your head, finishing the last of your ramen. The conversation slows, but it’s not awkward. If anything, there’s something… nice about the quiet, the way you’re just sitting there, existing in each other’s presence.

Jungkook leans back, exhaling softly. “I like this.”

You glance at him. “Like what?”

“This,” he gestures vaguely between you. “Just… hanging out. No cameras, no expectations.”

Your heart stirs at his words. You don’t say anything, but you don’t need to.

Instead, you just nod, letting the moment linger.

And for a while, neither of you move.

Jungkook watches as you disappear into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind you. Left to his own devices, he leans back into your couch, stretching his arms before letting out a deep breath. His eyes wander around your apartment again, settling on your coffee table.

Your laptop sits open.

Curious, he nudges the touchpad, bringing the screen back to life. The last thing you had open was a YouTube tab, and without thinking, he clicks on it.

That’s when he sees it.

His name. In your search history.

His eyes widen slightly, scanning the list of videos you’d recently watched. There were quite a few. Some interviews, a couple of performance clips, even an edit—oh, this was good. A slow grin spreads across his lips as he scrolls further, and then—

Oh.

One title in particular catches his attention. BTS Jungkook - Permission to Dance in LA (Full Focus Cam! + Backstage)

Jungkook raises a brow, amusement sparking in his chest. Oh, this was too good. He glances toward the bathroom, making sure he still has time, before clicking on the video.

The music starts, and he watches himself take the stage, all confident and fluid, moving effortlessly across the screen. But then—then the camera zooms in on that part.

The part where he’s fully feeling himself, exuding every ounce of charisma he has. Where his movements are just a little too smooth, a little too suggestive. He smirks.

Just as the video reaches the peak of that moment, the bathroom door swings open.

You step out, stretching, but freeze the second your brain registers the music playing from your laptop. Your stomach drops.

“Oh my god.”

Jungkook looks up, beaming. “Oh, hey, you’re back.”

Your eyes snap to the screen, and you almost die on the spot.

The video is playing in full volume. Full volume.

“Oh my god, no—” You rush forward, but Jungkook is faster. He clicks pause, turning to you with the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen.

“So,” he drawls, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. “You’ve been doing some research, huh?”

You slap the laptop shut so fast you swear you almost break it. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” he says, shaking his head, clearly thriving off this. “It’s exactly what it looks like.”

You groan, covering your face. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing.”

Jungkook hums, pretending to think. “You know, I was wondering—if I looked at the watch time, would I see a certain part being, like, replayed a few times?” He quirks a brow, his smirk devastating.

Your jaw drops. “I—absolutely not—”

He chuckles, dragging his tongue along the inside of his cheek, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Nah, but for real,” he says, tapping the laptop. “I totally get it. If I were you, I’d watch me too. I look too good in this.”

You groan even louder, ready to just fling yourself off the couch and onto the floor. “Please stop talking.”

“Oh, I will not.”

Jungkook leans in slightly, lowering his voice in mock seriousness. “Be honest—was it this part?” He reaches for the laptop again, and you launch forward, grabbing his arm to stop him.

“I will kick you out.”

He just laughs, looking far too pleased with himself. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.”

You glare at him, still gripping his arm. He just grins.

And you—well, you’re never opening YouTube around him again.

——

You glance at the clock, surprised by the time. It’s getting late, way later than you expected.

“You’re here pretty late,” you remark, your voice casual as you stand from the couch and stretch a little. “Don’t have anything to do tomorrow?”

Jungkook gives you that lazy smile of his, the one that you’re learning to recognize by now. “Nope. No work tomorrow,” he replies, his voice a little husky, like he’s savoring the moment. “I just wanted to chill for a bit, you know?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Just wanted to chill?”

He shrugs, a little shrug of the shoulders that makes him look even more relaxed than he already is. “Yeah. You’re good company, and it’s been…a long time since I’ve had a chance to just, you know, hang out.”

The words hit you in a way you weren’t quite prepared for. Something about them just settles in your chest—this quiet honesty, this rare openness that he’s letting slip.

“Alright,” you say, a little softer than before, before plopping back down on the couch. You hit play on the movie, the soft glow of the screen filling the room.

For a while, the two of you don’t say anything. The movie plays in the background, but it’s not really what you’re paying attention to. He’s sitting next to you, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body, his presence beside you just…there.

And then, almost without noticing, he moves slightly.

You’re so wrapped up in the movie, in the strange sense of comfort that’s been building between you two, that when his arm moves over to your shoulder, you barely even flinch. It feels natural, effortless—like it’s something that’s always been meant to happen.

His arm settles around your shoulders, just resting there.

And, before you know it, your legs find themselves stretching out, and you casually drape them across his lap, feeling the soft, undeniable weight of his presence. Your heart beats a little faster, but you pretend like everything’s normal, like you’re just watching a movie like any other evening.

Except you’re not.

You don’t realize how close you’ve gotten until halfway through the movie, when you glance up at him. His face is lit by the glow of the TV, and you’re struck by how peaceful he looks, how relaxed, how…at ease.

You try to tear your eyes away. Focus on the movie.

But it’s impossible.

You end up staring at his side profile, unable to help it. The way his hair falls just a little in his face, the curve of his jaw, the way his lips move when he laughs quietly at something in the movie…

It’s too much.

You blink rapidly, your gaze flicking away, heart racing. You try to concentrate on the movie, on what’s happening on screen, but your brain’s too occupied with the fact that Jungkook’s right there, his arm around you, your legs on his lap, and the tension between you two building slowly, almost unnoticeably.

And you feel it.

You feel every beat of your pulse, every breath that’s just a little too shallow. You feel him. Every inch of him.

God, what is this?

You bite your lip, trying to distract yourself from your own thoughts, but the more you try to focus on the film, the more you find yourself distracted by his presence. It’s like he’s the only thing in the room, the only thing that matters right now.

And when you glance back at him again, his eyes flick to you, catching you in the act of looking at him.

His lips curve into a slow, teasing smile. “You good?”

You nod quickly, but the heat rising in your face betrays you. “Yeah, fine,” you mumble, shifting a little uncomfortably, trying to play it cool.

But your thoughts are anything but cool.

The rest of the movie seems to blur around you as you try—unsuccessfully—to ignore the way you can feel him so clearly, so undeniably, right there beside you. His warmth, his scent, the way his hand occasionally brushes against your arm.

You’re so distracted you don’t even hear what he’s saying until his voice breaks through your thoughts.

“Hey,” he says softly, voice laced with something you can’t quite place. “You okay?”

You nod again, but you can’t seem to get the words out. The space between you feels electric, and it’s like the air around you both has thickened, changed.

He doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t say anything else either.

But he doesn’t need to.

——

You’ve long forgotten about the movie. The credits are rolling on the screen, but you couldn’t tell if you’re even watching anymore. It’s just noise in the background now, filling the space between you two. You’re sitting on the couch, the last of the snacks between you, sharing what’s left of them. The atmosphere is easy—comfortable, almost.

Your fingers brush when you both reach for the last chip. Neither of you pulls back, and it feels like a long moment where you both just look at each other for a beat. He’s got this amused look in his eyes, like he’s caught you in some kind of subtle game. You’re not sure who’s winning, but for some reason, you don’t care.

You end up laughing a little too much over the fact that the bowl’s completely empty now, and somehow, your legs end up tangled together on the couch. It’s ridiculous. You both just keep laughing, but the longer you sit there, the quieter the atmosphere grows, and there’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes you feel a little dizzy. You can’t really explain it, but the more you look at him, the more you can’t not look at him.

For a while, there’s a comfortable silence between you two. He’s stretched out on the couch, fiddling with the edge of the blanket, and you can’t help but notice how different the vibe feels. It’s not the usual playful teasing. There’s something a little more…real about tonight.

It’s him who breaks the silence first, his voice a little softer than before. “You ever think about what you want in life?” His words are a bit of a surprise, but the question’s casual, almost like it’s something he’s been thinking about.

You raise an eyebrow, unsure of where this is going, but you can tell he’s not just being playful. There’s something more to his tone. “What do you mean?” you ask, trying to keep things light, but your curiosity gets the better of you.

He hesitates for a second, glancing away, as if he’s considering his words carefully. “I mean… what do you really want? Like, when everything calms down? When you’ve done all the crazy stuff and finally just get to have the life you want?”

You blink, a little taken aback by the sudden shift. This isn’t the Jungkook you’re used to—this isn’t the playful, teasing guy who’d rather joke around. This feels different. You glance at him, and his face is unreadable, eyes staring into the distance, like he’s trying to figure it all out.

“I don’t know,” you admit, honestly. “I think I just want… peace. Like, the kind of life where things aren’t so… loud. You know? Maybe I want that simple, boring life, where everything just makes sense.”

You think that would be the end of it, but he nods slowly, like he gets it. Then, out of nowhere, he says, “I think I want that, too. I want something simple.” His words come out softer now, and there’s a vulnerability there you didn’t expect. “Something real. I want to settle down one day, but I don’t know if that’s even possible, with everything I do.”

You can’t help but feel a small rush of warmth at how genuine he sounds. The Jungkook you know is the center of attention, always surrounded by people, always in the spotlight. Hearing him talk like this, so open and honest, makes your heart skip a beat.

“I don’t think I could do it if I didn’t have something real to come home to,” he continues, almost to himself, his gaze fixed ahead. “Like, a love that isn’t… complicated. No drama. Just someone who’s there, you know? Someone who gets it.”

You swallow hard, realizing just how different he is from the persona he puts out there. Jungkook, the idol, the magnet for attention, is telling you he just wants simplicity. And for some reason, that makes him even more attractive.

You stare at him, your thoughts momentarily distracted. You didn’t expect him to be like this, didn’t expect to hear about what he really wants—what he really needs. And the more you think about it, the more you realize you want to kiss him right now. But you don’t say it. You don’t act on it. Instead, you find yourself just looking at him, caught in the moment.

It’s then that the sound of the movie’s credits fill the room, the music fading as the screen goes dark. The sudden shift makes you blink, pulled back into the reality of the situation. You look at the time—it’s 3 a.m. already.

Jungkook glances at his phone, a soft curse slipping past his lips. “Damn, time flies.” He gives a half-laugh, glancing at you. “I really don’t have anything to do tomorrow. I kind of want to stay… longer.”

For a second, you can tell he’s seriously considering it, and the idea of him staying makes your chest tighten. But you manage to pull yourself together enough to say, “About that… sorry, I have work tomorrow.” You let the teasing tone back in, trying to lighten the moment. “You can always just waltz up here again, if you feel like it.”

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin crossing his face. “I might just do that.” He stretches, as though he’s ready to stay the night, and for a second, you think he might. But then, with a playful look, he stands up, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, I’ll let you get some sleep. But don’t think I won’t be back,” he teases, the air between you two charged with unspoken words.

You laugh, but inside, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’re both on the verge of something new.

You walk Jungkook to the door, the quiet of the night around you both making everything feel oddly intimate. As he stands in the doorway, he looks at you, his expression softer than usual, like he’s trying to remember something. You both linger there, not saying much. It’s one of those moments where you’re not sure what to say, but you know neither of you is ready for this night to end.

“Guess I should get going,” he says, his voice quiet, almost reluctant.

“Yeah…” you trail off, not quite sure if you’re ready for him to leave, but you smile anyway. “Thanks for coming by.”

His eyes flicker, and without a word, he pulls you into a quick hug, one that’s warm and a little too long, just enough for you to catch a breath before you both pull away. It feels like something more, but neither of you acknowledges it.

“Take care, alright?” he says, still holding your gaze.

You nod, feeling a little out of breath. “You too.”

Then, he steps out, and just before he turns to leave, he looks back, grinning. “I’ll see you soon,” he teases, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, maybe,” you reply, trying to keep the smile on your face, even as your heart beats a little faster than normal.

The door clicks shut behind him, and you stand there for a moment, just listening to the sound of the night. Your mind is still reeling from everything that happened tonight, the closeness, the teasing, the moments that felt like they meant more than they probably did.

Shaking your head, you move to tidy up, putting away the empty snack bowls and the remnants of the movie you’ve long forgotten about. The house feels quiet now, almost too quiet, and you find yourself moving around automatically. You go into your room, taking off your shoes, tossing your jacket onto the bed, and sitting down at the edge.

You pull your phone from your pocket, deciding to unwind with a bit of scrolling through your timeline. The bright screen feels like a good distraction from the swirl of thoughts in your head. Sending Jungkook a quick ‘Hope you got home okay, goodnight :)’ text,

You’re mindlessly tapping through posts when something stops you cold—your heart drops into your stomach.

It’s a video. Of Jungkook.

You freeze, staring at the thumbnail. The video’s not recent—it’s been uploaded recently, but you have no idea when it was actually filmed. You press play anyway, your finger trembling just slightly.

It’s him, in what looks like his apartment, laughing and stumbling around with a girl in his arms. The two of them are playfully navigating their way around, and a dog is trailing behind them, wagging its tail. You don’t recognize the girl—her face is blurry from the angle of the shot, but you can tell she’s close to him, like the two of them are comfortable.

You’re not sure what his apartment looks like, but you know that dog. You’ve seen it on social media before. And you can’t miss the way his hair’s styled, that signature long, grown-out mullet he’s been sporting. All the details are accurate enough that it seems too real to be fake.

But the girl? You have no idea who she is.

Your stomach tightens, a pit forming inside you as your mind races to make sense of what you’re seeing. The casualness of it, the familiarity between them, makes your chest tighten in an unexpected rush of jealousy. You watch the video again, trying to figure out what exactly is making you feel so uneasy, but the more you see, the worse it gets. The image of them laughing together, the dog following them like it’s just another day, makes everything feel like it’s out of your reach.

You don’t even know how long you’ve been staring at the screen when you finally snap out of it, but the realization hits you hard—this could’ve been filmed weeks ago, or maybe it’s been recent, and you were none the wiser. You can’t tell.

The uncertainty of it all makes you feel like you’re drowning. You don’t know what this is. You don’t know what it means.

You pull the phone away from your face, staring at it as your heart continues to race, unsure of what to feel.

All you know is that seeing this video makes everything feel like it’s slipping through your fingers, and you’re not sure if you’ll ever get it back.

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omega-e123 · 9 months ago

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Everything started to blur. Peoples voices were now pretty much muffled nonsense unless they were practically shouting in your ear or within three inches of you. Coordination? Thrown out the window. Hell, you would have fallen straight to the floor if it weren’t for the table keeping you upright.

In your drunken stupor, you nearly clocked Knuckles. Spinning around too fast to face him after he tapped your shoulder. Luckily the only casualty was a glass of water, now on the sad dirty floor of the bar.

It was easy to tell that you’ve had one too many with how aggressive and pouty you were getting. Off to the side, your partner was chatting with Rouge. Glass of wine for her and whiskey on the rocks for him. A lopsided smile plastered on his face. He couldn’t help but stare at your form as you argue with the nearly equally drunk echidna.

Sonic rushes to the conflict, half attempting to simmer it down. Naturally, neither you or Knuckles were going to listen to him. If anything, Sonic’s mild teasing made it worse, but now you two had a common enemy. Green eyes silently plead to two/thirds of Team Dark to wrangle their partners back.

Rouge shakes her head and begins to stand up but was forced to sit back down. A puzzled look appears on her face.

“Wait. I wish to spectate just a bit more,” Shadow simply answers.

Emerald eyes roll in disbelief as he slowly backs up and continues to talk. Sass after sass, you and Knuckles inch towards him. When Knuckles threw the first punch, Sonic stepped to the side, allowing his friend to stumble forward.

As you were about to also attempt to get the jump on the blue blur, a pair of strong arms envelops you.

The result: screaming and cursing. Now you were more agitated.

You flail your arms and try to turn around and face the perpetrator. Instead, you’re scooped up bridal style. “Get your fucking hands off me! If I don’t kill you, my boyfriend will!”

His chests rumbles in laughter as he carries you off without another word to his “non friends.”

After putting enough distance Shadow kisses the top of your forehead and replies, “I am your boyfriend.”

Violently you shake your head ‘no’ and lightly hit his chest. “No you’re not!”

“No?”

“He is ten— no a thousand times more handsomer than you!“

Amused by your claim, he asks,“Is that so?”

“I know so! Where are you taking me!? Put me down!”

Without noticing, you’ve already been chaos controlled to your shared bedroom. “As you wish, my love,” Shadow grants, plopping you ungracefully on top the mattress. It bounces and creaks under your weight.

The world feels like it’s spinning a thousand miles a minute. In order to stave off the nausea, your eyes focus on a single point on the ceiling.

Shadow, completely out of your field of vision, moves by your feet. One by one your shoes are taken off and put aside the foot of the bed. You don’t even fight it. Your brain is too focused in that speck of dirt above. Or is it a bug? Unsure, but somehow it’s completely captured your attention.

Creaking fills the silence as he joins you in bed. Warm blanket pulled over you and him. He reenters your sight momentarily to press a good night kiss atop your nose.

“Shadow!,” you squeal out in delight. As if you haven’t been in his arms two whole seconds ago. Turning to your side, you snuggle in close to his body. How you don’t suffocate in his chest fur is a mystery for the ages.

‘You’re absolutely ridiculous,’ he thinks to himself, ‘and I wouldn’t have it any other way.’

#tw alcohol #tw drunk #shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader

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honeyscara · 6 months ago

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—Haikyu boys reaction to you kissing them on the cheeks

ּ ֶָ֢.Tsukishima Keiּ ֶָ֢.

You were sitting on the floor of Tsukishima’s room, textbooks and notes scattered around you. He was sitting at his desk, pen in hand, explaining a formula you just couldn’t wrap your head around.

“So, if you just substitute X here and simplify, the answer’s obvious,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with his usual condescension.

You looked at him, a playful smile forming. “Wow, you’re like a genius, Tsukki. Thanks!” Before he could retort, you leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

Tsukishima froze, his pen stopping mid-air. Slowly, he turned to face you, his golden eyes narrowing behind his glasses. “What the hell was that?”

You shrugged, biting back a laugh. “Just showing some gratitude.”

“Don’t do that. Ever.” He turned back to his notebook, but you didn’t miss the way his ears turned bright red.

For the rest of the study session, he refused to look at you, muttering under his breath about how “annoying” you were, though the faint smile tugging at his lips gave him away.

ּ ֶָ֢.Kageyama Tobioּ ֶָ֢.

The gym was buzzing with activity as Kageyama finished a practice match, sweat dripping down his face. He slumped onto the bench, grabbing a bottle of water and chugging it like his life depended on it.

You approached him, clapping your hands. “Great job out there, Kageyama! You were amazing as always.”

“Yeah,” he muttered between gulps of water, barely paying attention.

Rolling your eyes at his lack of enthusiasm, you leaned down and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Lighten up a little!”

Kageyama nearly spat out his water. He whipped his head toward you, his eyes wide with shock. “Wha—what was that?!”

You laughed, enjoying his flustered expression. “A reward for doing so well. What, don’t tell me you’ve never been kissed before?”

“Th-that’s not the point!” he stammered, his face turning bright red. He avoided your gaze, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Relax, Kageyama,” you teased, patting his shoulder. “You deserved it.”

For the rest of practice, he couldn’t concentrate, his teammates calling him out for messing up passes.

ּ ֶָ֢.Hinata Shoyoּ ֶָ֢.

“Take that!” Hinata yelled, his fingers mashing the controller buttons as he celebrated another win. The two of you were sitting on the floor in his living room, snacks scattered around, completely engrossed in a video game.

“You’re way too into this,” you said, shaking your head as his avatar did a victory dance.

“Of course I am! I’m the best at—” His words cut off as you leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

Hinata froze, his mouth hanging open as he dropped the controller onto the carpet. “Wha—huh?! Y-Y/N, what was that?!”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “What was what?”

“Y-you just kissed me! On the cheek!” His hands flew to his face, covering his flushed cheeks as he stared at you in disbelief.

“Yeah, so?” you said, grinning. “You were cute just now, so I couldn’t help it.”

Hinata flailed his arms dramatically, his face burning bright red. “You can’t just do stuff like that! It’s—it’s not fair!”

You laughed, patting his shoulder. “Relax, it’s just a cheek kiss. Now focus, you’re losing.”

Hinata couldn’t focus for the rest of the game, his mind replaying the kiss over and over.

ּ ֶָ֢.Yamaguchi Tadashiּ ֶָ֢.

The two of you were walking home together after school, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the pavement. Yamaguchi was nervously talking about how he’d missed a few serves during practice, his gaze fixed on the ground.

“I don’t know… maybe I should just ask Tsukki for more help. I feel like I’m dragging the team down,” he said, his voice filled with doubt.

You stopped in your tracks, grabbing his arm gently to make him turn to face you. “Tadashi, stop saying that,” you said firmly. “You’re doing great, and you’re getting better every day.”

Before he could protest, you leaned in and gave him a soft peck on the cheek. “Believe in yourself a little more, okay?”

Yamaguchi’s eyes widened, his freckles standing out as his face turned pink. He stared at you in stunned silence, his lips parting slightly as he tried to process what had just happened.

“T-thank you,” he finally mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked down, gripping the strap of his bag nervously.

You smiled, nudging him lightly. “You’re welcome. Now, let’s get going before it gets dark.”

For the rest of the walk, Yamaguchi stayed quiet, stealing shy glances at you and replaying the moment in his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.

ּ ֶָ֢.Kenma Kozumeּ ֶָ֢.

Kenma was sitting cross-legged on his bed, his gaming console in hand as you sat next to him, watching him play. His golden eyes were glued to the screen, his fingers moving with practiced precision as he navigated through the game.

“You’ve been at this for hours, Kenma,” you said, leaning against the wall. “Aren’t you tired?”

He shook his head, not looking away from the screen. “No, I’m almost done. Just a few more minutes.”

You smiled at how focused he was, his slightly messy hair falling into his eyes. Feeling playful, you leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Kenma’s entire body froze, his hands still gripping the console. The game on the screen continued, but his character stood still, quickly losing health.

“Y-Y/N,” he muttered, his voice soft but laced with disbelief. He slowly turned his head to look at you, his face slightly pink. “Why did you do that?”

You shrugged, grinning. “You were cute. I couldn’t help it.”

Kenma blinked a few times, then looked back at the screen. “You can’t just do stuff like that… it’s distracting,” he mumbled, though his voice held no real annoyance.

For the rest of the game, his focus was noticeably off, and you caught him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

ּ ֶָ֢.Kuroo Tetsurouּ ֶָ֢.

The two of you were hanging out in the gym after practice, with Kuroo casually dribbling a volleyball as you watched from the sidelines. He was telling you about the team’s progress, his voice full of his usual smug confidence.

“And then Lev missed the block again. I swear, he’s like a baby giraffe out there,” Kuroo said with a laugh, spinning the ball on his finger.

You rolled your eyes, smirking. “You’re so mean, Kuroo.”

He stopped spinning the ball and grinned at you, his messy black hair falling into his eyes. “What? I’m just stating facts, Y/N.”

Feeling bold, you stepped closer and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “That’s for being a good captain, even if you’re a little mean.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened slightly before his signature smirk returned. “Well, well, what’s this? Are you falling for me, Y/N?” he teased, leaning in closer with a playful glint in his eyes.

You scoffed, pushing his face away. “Don’t get cocky. It was just a friendly kiss.”

“Friendly, huh?” he said, chuckling as he straightened up. “Guess I’ll have to work harder to earn a real one.”

He continued teasing you about it for the rest of the day, but the slight blush on his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed.

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kdyq · 5 months ago

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Loveeeeeee

Part six of this series context: Spending Valentine’s Day as a family and Ambessa when she’s asks thee question🥺.

The early morning sun cast a warm glow through the sheer curtains the bedroom in soft golden hues. You lay in bed curled up with Amaraher tiny body nestled against your chest her tiny fingers curling into your shirt.

Today was special. Your first Valentine’s Day as a family.

Carefully you slipped out of bed placing Amara in her bassinet before stepping into the joint room. The entire estate had been transformed overnight into a lavish bouquets of roses, tulips, and lilies adorned every surface. Balloons in rich reds and soft pinks floated against the high ceilings their ribbons streaming down like delicate threads of love.

You had spent hours last night making sure everything was perfect. This day wasn’t just about romance it was about love in every form yours and Ambessa’s love for each other and the love you both had for Amara.

A soft knock on the door made you turn and there she was.

Ambessa stood in the doorway, wearing a deep red silk robe that draped over her powerful frame a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “So this is what you’ve been up to,” she said amusingly while stepping inside her eyes scanning the decorated room.

You grinned. “You like it?”

She walked toward you her presence commanding yet effortlessly graceful. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, tilting your chin up with her fingers. “But you didn’t think I’d let you do all the spoiling today did you?”

Your lips parted but before you could respond Amara let out a happy squeal from the bassinet”

Ambessa’s gaze softened instantly. She turned making her way to your daughter who was now wide awake her big curious eyes locked onto the sea of balloons above her.

“Looks like someone’s excited,” you chuckled watching as Amara wiggled in delight reaching her chubby hands toward the balloons .

Ambessa scooped her up effortlessly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Happy first Valentine’s Day my love.”

Amara babbled in response her tiny fingers gripping onto Ambessa’s robe.

You couldn’t help but melt at the sight this powerful woman the warlord who commanded entire armies now completely at the mercy of her baby.

As the morning passed Amara became utterly fascinated by the balloons. She had figured out how to grab onto the ribbons yanking them with surprising strength.

At one point she managed to pull down an entire cluster sending a flurry of petals from a nearby bouquet flying to the ground.

“Amara!” you gasped, half laughing as she let out an excited giggle.

Ambessa chuckled leaning down to pick up the fallen petals. “She’s already making a mess of your masterpiece.”

You sighed dramatically. “She takes after her mother.”

Ambessa smirked, stepping closer. “Which one?”

You rolled your eyes playfully but before you could say anything Amara grabbed another balloon and flailed so hard she nearly knocked herself over.

Ambessa caught her in time lifting her high in the air. “You’re a little troublemaker aren’t you?”

Amara shrieked with laughter kicking her tiny feet.

You smiled watching the two of them your heart overflowing with love.

The evening air was warm filled with the soft flicker of candlelight and the scent of roses. Dinner had been perfect intimate filled with laughter and stolen glances the kind of moment that made you fall in love with Ambessa all over again.

As you sat back sipping the last of your wine Ambessa reached across the table her large calloused hand covering yours. “Come with me,” she murmured her voice low and unreadable.

Your heart skipped. “Where?”

She didn’t answer right away just stood, tugging you gently by the hand. You glanced at Amara who was still sleeping peacefully in her bassinet nearby. Everything in the room the warmth the flowers, the soft candlelight felt like something out of a dream.

She led you out onto the balcony where the night sky stretched endlessly above stars twinkling like diamonds in the sky. The gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh flowers and for a moment, everything was quiet. Just you and her.

Ambessa exhaled, rubbing a hand over her jaw before she turned to face you. There was something in her expression something raw so vulnerable in a way you rarely saw from her.

“I’ve fought many battles in my life”she started, her voice steady, but there was a weight to it. “I’ve built a legacy, led armies, conquered lands… But nothing has ever mattered as much as you do.”

Your lips parted but she kept going.

“When I met you, I didn’t think I was capable of this kind of love. I thought my heart belonged to war to power to duty. But you”She shook her head a small, almost disbelieving smile tugging at her lips. “You changed everything.”

Your chest tightened, the air suddenly thick with emotion.

“And then came Amara” she continued, her voice softening even more. “Our daughter. A piece of you and me proof that love can create something greater than either of us alone.” She took a steadying breath before reaching into her pocket.

Your breath caught when she pulled out a small velvet box.

Your hand flew to your mouth as she slowly lowered herself onto one knee.

“I don’t want to spend another moment calling you anything less than my wife” she said opening the box to reveal a breathtaking ring gold, with intricate detailing and a deep red gemstone at its center.

You felt tears prick at your eyes your heart hammering against your ribs.

“Will you marry me?” she asked her voice quieter now but sure.

“Yes,” you breathed nodding as emotion overwhelmed you. “Yes, Ambessa.”

The relief that washed over her was immediate. She stood up slipping the ring onto your finger with steady hands before pulling you into a deep urgent kiss. Her arms wrapped around you grounding you holding you close as if she never wanted to let go.

When you finally pulled back blinking away happy tears, you found her watching you with something close to awe.

“I love you,” she murmured, brushing her thumb over your cheek.

You smiled, pressing your forehead against hers. “I love you too.”

Behind you a soft cooing sound made you both turn.

Amara wide-eyed and wiggling, had just woken up. Her little fists flailed in the air completely oblivious to the life changing moment that had just happened.

Ambessa chuckled reaching for her. “Seems like someone wants to be part of the moment.”

You laughed pressing a kiss to Amara’s forehead as Ambessa cradled her between you.

And in that moment wrapped in love in the warmth of your now fiancée’s arms with your daughter safe between you you knew this was it.

This was forever.

“THE END”

Ik its late but Happy Valentine’s Day

I should’ve done this before the Baby but this was so cuteeeee

#MarryBeforeYouCarry

#arcane #ambessa league of legends #ambessa medarda #ambessa x reader #arcane ambessa #arcane x reader #arcane x you #ambessa x you #mel and ambessa #ambessa the chosen of the wolf #ambessa arcane #medarda family #MarryBeforeYouCarry

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thebunnednun · 5 months ago

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"EAT YER SOUP!"

Pairing: Aged up!ProHero!Husband!Katsuki Bakugou x Pro hero!Wife!Reader

Warning: MDNI!!! Extreme Flirting , Wc: Long like his truama+, No ageless blogs!

Synopsis: A snowball fight escalates into a dramatic battle for the icy throne between the, "Snow Empress," and the, "Demon King," of class 1a and ending with you becoming sick and Katsuki taking care of his sweet little Wife.

Tons of romantic flirting, promises of fun and sexy times awaits. Reader has a quirk.

Ya like Jane Austen? You'll love this.

Part 1 of 2.

It started as a perfectly normal winter day in Japan.

The sky stretched in a crystal-clear blue, and sunlight sparkled against the untouched snow. Flakes glistened on branches like delicate diamonds, the world hushed in its frosted beauty.

That kind of morning that invited peace.

A gentle hush blanketed the streets of Japan the night before, dusting the city with a sparkling white coat. The air was crisp, biting just enough to paint cheeks red and send puffs of visible breath floating upwards.

It was the perfect snow day.

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Until it wasn’t.

“AAAAHHHH!” screamed Kaminari as he sprinted through the snow, his voice piercing the calm like an air raid siren. His arms flailed wildly, chunks of snow falling off his jacket from the barrage he’d just endured.

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU!” Katsuki roared behind him, hurling an impressively compact snowball with the same intensity he brought to his explosive attacks. The snowball rocketed through the air, narrowly missing Kaminari’s head and splattering against a tree, sending icy fragments flying.

“NAH UAH!” Kaminari retorted, ducking behind a bench and scrambling to build his own ammunition.

Nearby, Midoriya stood knee-deep in snow, earnestly explaining to Iida and Uraraka, “Cold hands are actually a sign that your body is conserving heat by prioritizing your core temperature. So technically—”

“OOF!” Midoriya’s lecture was cut off as a snowball, courtesy of a snickering Ashido, struck him square in the face.

“LESS TALK MORE SNOW!” she cackled, darting away before he could retaliate.

A chorus of laughter and shouting filled the park, blending with the crunch of boots on snow and the occasional thud of snowballs finding their targets.

On the far end of the park, Sero's voice carried faintly over the chaos as he leaned against a tree next to you. He tilted his head slightly and murmured, “Let it go~ Let it goooo~” with the faintest hint of a smirk, his breath forming little clouds as he sang.

"I think that's a slur."

You snorted, burying your face in your scarf to muffle your laughter. Shoto's deadpan humor was one of your favorite things about him, and it was especially hilarious when contrasted against the madness unfolding below.

“Can I eat this?” Kirishima’s voice rang out as he held up what looked like a vaguely yellowish chunk of snow.

“DID YOU KNOW THAT THE ICICLES ON THE ROOF ARE ACTUALLY BIRD SHIT?” Danki yelled, pointing upward at a row of sparkling icicles hanging off a pavilion roof.

“Can we please go inside yet?” Jirou groaned from where she was crouched under the monkey bars, hugging her knees and shivering. Momo, who was hanging upside down, quickly dropped down and pulled the other girl into her large scarf before snuggling into her arms.

“IMA MAKE A SNOWMAN!” Toru cheered, already gathering snow with surprising precision for someone who was completely invisible.

“DO A FLIP!” someone (C0ough Ojiro) shouted as Kaminari attempted to leap off a swing mid-arc. He landed in a heap, sending snow flying everywhere, but popped back up grinning like a maniac.

“Lemme see what you have?”

“AN ICE BALL!” Shoji declared, holding up what was essentially a solid block of ice.

“NO!” came multiple voices in unison as everyone collectively backed away from the six-armed giant.

The graduated class of 1-A, with the addition of Shinsou, had descended upon the local park after a public conference. It was supposed to be a quick reprieve—a moment to unwind after the formalities of hero work. Instead, it had turned into a full-blown festival of youthful chaos.

Even though you were technically pro heroes now, snow days were snow days. All your training, responsibilities, and public personas had been left behind at the press conference you’d attended earlier.

Now, the entirety of Freedom Park was taken over and transformed into your personal winter wonderland.

From your hiding place on a small hill overlooking the park, you could see it all. Beside you, Shoto stands with his usual stoic expression, though his lips twitch slightly at the edges—a telltale sign he was enjoying himself more than he let on. His arms were crossed, and a small puff of steam rose from his cup of hot tea.

Your husband, however, was not enjoying a quiet moment.

He was right in the thick of it.

Katsuki had declared the snowball fight a competition, and chaos erupted the second the words left his mouth. He was now locked in a fierce battle with Kirishima and Kaminari, his explosions muted by the snow but still sending white powder flying in every direction.

“Think they’ll make it out alive?” you mused, your breath visible in the cold air.

“Unlikely,” Shoto replied dryly, taking a sip from his cup.

Katsuki was in full-on “competitive mode,” hurling snowballs with pinpoint accuracy and barking at anyone who dared challenge him. Midoriya, recovering from Ashido’s sneak attack, was now carefully constructing a snow fort with Iida and Uraraka, his freckled face glowing with determination.

Jirou and Momo had teamed up to create a meticulously designed igloo, complete with a functional entrance, while Dark Shadow—unsurprisingly—kept trying to sneak inside and was promptly shoved out each time by a disgruntled Tokoyami.

Down below, Toru and Ojiro had joined forces to create what looked like an impenetrable igloo wall, complete with a moat of shoveled snow. Tsu and Ochako were working together to stockpile snowballs inside, while Shinsou lazily leaned against the structure, occasionally lobbing snowballs with eerily good accuracy.

On the playground, Sero had finally managed to climb the slide and was now using his tape to lasso snowballs midair and fling them back toward their throwers. Mina retaliated by sliding down the other side, a trail of snow cascading behind her.

"Do you think we should join them?" you asked Shoto, brushing stray snow from your gloves.

"I’m perfectly content here," he replied, though his gaze lingered on the group with something that almost resembled longing.

“Come on, Sho,” you teased, nudging him lightly. “Where’s your sense of fun?”

He glanced at you, his mismatched eyes softening. “I think I left it down there.”

You laughed, the sound bright against the winter air. Below, Katsuki let out a triumphant roar as he finally tackled Kaminari into a snowdrift, only for Kirishima to leap on him a second later. The three dissolved into a pile of wrestling, laughing chaos.

“Alright,” you said, standing and brushing snow from your coat. “If you won’t come willingly, I guess I’ll just have to drag you into it.” Before Shoto could protest, you grabbed a handful of snow and flung it at him, hitting him square in the chest. He blinked in surprise, his tea sloshing slightly in its cup.

“Really?” he asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Really,” you replied, already gathering another snowball.

With a flick of his wrist, Shoto melted the snow in your hand before it could leave your palm.

“Cheater!”

“You started it,” he said, setting his cup down and rolling up his sleeves.

Then, a soft crunch of snow behind you drew your attention. Turning your head, you saw three familiar figures trudging up the slope, snow clinging to their boots and the hems of their coats.

Sato, Aoyama, and Koda approached cautiously, their eyes darting to the chaos below as if they feared an ambush. Aoyama had a dramatic pout, and Koda’s wide-eyed expression screamed relief at finding refuge. Sato, meanwhile, was carrying what looked like a small stash of baked goods wrapped in foil.

“Is it safe here?” Aoyama asked dramatically, placing a hand over his chest as if the mere trek had been a perilous journey. You straightened up and waved your hands in an exaggerated gesture of benevolence.

“I grant you sanctuary! You are safe here, under my protection.”

The three of them paused, exchanged looks, and then simultaneously bowed low, their motions filled with mock reverence. Shoto was back to cradling his cup of tea, steam curling upward as he quietly enjoyed the relative peace of your hiding spot. You, on the other hand, had your elbows resting on your knees, watching the battlefield with an amused grin as if it were the most entertaining show you'd ever seen.

“Thank you, our good queen, for granting us shelter in your realm,” Sato intoned, his voice deep and formal. “It is an honor to bask in your light,” Aoyama added, his usual sparkle exaggerated as he tossed imaginary stardust. Koda, always soft-spoken, simply bowed and nodded in agreement.

Beside you, Shoto muttered under his breath, “You’re lucky they indulge this,” as he raised his teacup again.Ignoring him, you turned back to the newcomers, gesturing for them to sit in the snowy clearing near you.

“How fares the battlefield below, my loyal subjects?”

Aoyama huffed dramatically, brushing non-existent dirt from his coat. “Your husband, the Demon King Bakugou, is terrorizing the realm with his fiery wrath.” Sato chuckled and added, “He’s like a one-man army down there. Izuku’s holed up in the fort with everyone, trying to rally the troops into some kind of defense strategy with Momo.”

Koda nodded shyly. “It’s… chaotic. But Midoryia is trying his best.” Before you could respond, a new voice called out from behind.

“Is this the neutral party gathering place?”

Turning, you saw Iida climbing the hill, his hands chopping the air in his usual commanding way. His scarf flapped in the breeze, giving him an almost heroic silhouette against the snowy horizon.

“Yes, it is,” you replied with a playful flourish, gesturing to the group now gathered in your little haven.

Iida seemed pleased with the answer, nodding briskly before sitting down next to Sato, who offered him a pastry.

“We’ve got quite the party now,” Sato said, counting the group. “A priest,” he gestured to Iida, “a prince,” he motioned toward Shoto, who raised an eyebrow, “a pied piper,” he nodded at Koda, who blushed, “and of course, our queen.”

“And I’m more than happy to have a knight,” you said, pointing to Aoyama, who struck a dazzling pose, “and a baker’s man,” you finished with a grin toward Sato.

The group chuckled, settling into the cozy camaraderie of your impromptu sanctuary.

From the hill, you all looked down to see Bakugou standing alone in the center of the snowy battlefield. His scarf whipped behind him as he shouted at the rest of the class, who were safely ensconced in their snow-igloo “castle” that was once the playground.

“YOU COWARDS! I DON’T NEED HELP TO TAKE YOU SHIT HEADS DOWN!”

Kirishima stood a few feet behind him, rubbing the back of his neck and chuckling nervously as he watched his best friend fume.

On the battlements of the “castle,” Izuku stood high, with Sero and Kaminari holding him up on their shoulders. His hands were cupped around his mouth as he called out,

“Kacchan, you don’t have to do this! We can resolve this peacefully!”

“SHUT UP, IZUKU! I’M NOT NEGOTIATING WITH SNOWBALL-BUILDING WEAKLINGS!”

The entire group inside the fort shouted back at him, jeering and pelting snowballs from their windows.

Kirishima, glancing nervously between Katsuki and the fort, caught sight of you on the hill. He gave a small wave, his breath visible in the cold air. You returned the wave with an exaggerated beckoning motion, grinning as he hesitated, looking over his shoulder at Katsuki, who was now too focused on his ranting to notice.

Slowly, Kirishima began backing away, one step at a time, until he turned and jogged toward the wooded edge of the park. It took a minute, but eventually, he emerged through the trees and into your clearing. His face was flushed from the cold, his red hair dusted with snow.

“Welcome, gentle giant,” you said with a grin, spreading your arms in greeting.

Kirishima blinked, confused. “Gentle huh?”

“They’ve been speaking in medieval this whole time,” Shoto clarified, sipping his tea.

“Oh, got it,” Kirishima said, nodding along. Then, getting into the spirit of things, he dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “Snow Empress, I have come to petition you. Please, you must put a stop to the war and end the tyranny of your Demon King husband!”

The group erupted into laughter, and you gave an exaggerated sigh, waving a hand over the battlefield below. “Rise, noble knight. Let us discuss how best to restore peace to this snowy realm.”

You leaned forward, your eyes flickering toward the tree line as a faint rustling sound reached your ears. The soft crunch of snow was almost inaudible against the backdrop of distant laughter and shouting, but your instincts told you someone was approaching. Squinting, you caught a glimpse of dark hair and a familiar, lanky frame blending into the shadows of a nearby tree.

“Shinsou,” you murmured, just loud enough for Shoto to catch.

He followed your gaze, his calm demeanor unchanging as he stood. Without a word, he picked up Sato’s hand and pressed the warm cup into it before standing. The shift in his posture was subtle but deliberate, his usually casual stance now sharp and ready. With a smooth motion, he conjured a spear of glimmering, jagged ice in his hand. It shimmered in the weak sunlight, its edges dangerously sharp.

Shoto leveled the spear toward the tree, his voice carrying the weight of playful authority.

“Speak now, you unfaithful spy. Be ye friend or foe?”

There was a beat of silence, and then Shinsou stepped out from behind the tree with his hands raised in mock surrender, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Friend, obviously,” he drawled, his tone as dry as the winter air.

“Prove it,” Shoto demanded, his voice still even but with an edge of humor.

Shinsou rolled his eyes, stepping closer to the group. “What do you want me to do? Pledge my undying loyalty to the Snow Empress and her ragtag court?”

“That would be a start,” you chimed in, leaning back on your hands with a wide grin.

Shinsou sighed, dragging a hand through his hair as he came to stand in front of you.

“Fine. Your Majesty,” he said with exaggerated sarcasm, dropping into an over-the-top bow. “I, your humble servant, humbly request refuge in your domain. I swear my allegiance, provided I’m not dragged into whatever insanity your husband is stirring up down there.”

The group burst into laughter, Shoto letting his ice spear dissipate into harmless mist.

“Accepted,” you declared, clapping your hands together. “Welcome to the court, Sir Shinsou.”

Kirishima grinned, clapping Shinsou on the shoulder. “Glad to have you, man. We’re building quite the crew up here.”

Shinsou smirked, crossing his arms as he glanced around the group. “I see that. You’ve got the whole medieval RPG party vibe going on. Who’s who?”

Iida adjusted his scarf, sitting up straighter. “I am the priest, of course.”

“And I’m the prince,” Shoto added flatly, picking his teacup back up from Sato’s hands.

“I’m the baker,” Sato said, holding up his stash of pastries as proof.

“A knight,” Aoyama declared with a dazzling pose.

“And I’m the gentle giant,” Kirishima said with a laugh, flexing one arm for emphasis.

Koda, ever the quiet one, raised a hand sheepishly. “Pied Piper,” he said softly.

Shinsou raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “And you?” he asked, nodding at you.

You sat up straighter, lifting an imaginary crown from your head and adjusting it with exaggerated elegance. “I, of course, am the Snow Empress. Ruler of this humble hill and keeper of peace… unless my husband starts throwing snow grenades again.”

The group chuckled, but Shinsou tilted his head, squinting down at the chaos below. Bakugou was still yelling, now aggressively chucking snowballs at the castle fort while Izuku continued shouting at him from the top.

“Speaking of him,” Shinsou muttered, “Should we be worried about whatever he’s planning? Because he looks like he’s about to storm the gates.”

Everyone turned to look, and sure enough, Bakugou was gathering what could only be described as a truly absurd number of snowballs into a pile. His face was alight with pure determination, Kirishima’s absence completely unnoticed as he muttered something under his breath.

“Oh no,” you said with a laugh, resting your chin on your hands. “That’s the face he makes when he’s about to go all out.”

“Should we intervene?” Kirishima asked, scratching the back of his neck.

Shoto sipped his tea, completely unbothered. “Why bother? This is clearly a battle he’s destined to lose. Let him tire himself out.”

Shinsou snorted. “You’re a great wife, Todoroki. Truly.”

“Thank you,” Shoto deadpanned, raising his cup slightly in acknowledgment.

The group laughed again, the tension breaking as the scene below unfolded in increasingly ridiculous fashion.

As the chaos raged on below, you watched from the hilltop, shaking your head in amusement. The snow was littered with fallen comrades—friends lying dramatically in the snow, groaning in mock agony after being taken out by Katsuki’s relentless barrage of snowballs. Only Momo and Izuku remained standing.

Momo stood near the castle fort, her shield gleaming with a fresh layer of ice as she crouched behind it. Beside her, two makeshift snowball launchers she had crafted were firing at irregular intervals, their mechanisms clicking rhythmically as they pelted Katsuki with precision shots.

Izuku, on the other hand, was darting around like a green blur, popping out from snowbanks and behind trees to lob snowballs at Bakugou, whose maniacal laughter echoed across the park. Katsuki was clearly in his element, his scarf trailing behind him like a warrior’s cape as he dodged and countered every attack.

“He’s… actually enjoying this,” Shinsou remarked, his voice dripping with disbelief.

“Of course, he is,” you sighed. “This is practically a sport to him.”

“Should we go down there and stop him before he actually hurts someone?” Kirishima asked, glancing nervously at the fort.

“Yes,” came the unanimous response from your little group.

You groaned, standing up and brushing snow off your coat. “Fine. Do me the honor of escorting me, would you?”

Shoto smirked faintly, already summoning a fresh array of glistening ice spears for the group. The sharp tips caught the light as he handed them out one by one. “Try not to poke yourselves,” he said dryly, tucking one under his arm before offering you his free hand.

You took it, looping your arm through his as if this was some kind of formal procession. Shinsou bowed mockingly in front of you, one hand sweeping across his chest in an exaggerated gesture.

“Allow me to go ahead, Your Majesty,” he said with a smirk. “As your loyal valet, of course.”

“Of course,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

And so, with your odd little court in tow, you began your descent down the hill. The snow crunched beneath your boots as your group trudged down the slope, trying their best to maintain some semblance of dignity while navigating the uneven terrain. It was difficult not to laugh at the sight of everyone’s exaggerated steps, their knees and hips moving far too much in their attempt not to slip.

“Make way, make way!” Sato bellowed, his voice booming as if he were announcing royalty.

You suppressed a laugh, glancing at Shinsou. “Do your job, or you’ll meet the business end of Shoto’s spear,” you teased.

Shinsou smirked and straightened his posture, raising his voice as he called out,

“Behold! The Snow Empress has arrived to grant mercy and bring peace to the lands!”

The battlefield froze—literally and figuratively. Katsuki paused mid-throw, his arm cocked back with a snowball the size of a melon in his hand. Izuku stumbled out from behind a tree, his breath coming in puffs of steam as he blinked in confusion. Even Momo peeked out from behind her shield, her brow furrowing as she tried to process what was happening.

“THE EMPRESS!”

Mina suddenly dropped to her knees in the snow, throwing her hands up dramatically.

“All hail the Snow Empress!”

Denki immediately followed suit, kneeling beside her and clasping his hands together as if in prayer. “Long live the Empress!” he shouted, his voice filled with mock reverence. The two scrambled to get behind you, their voices overlapping as they began to sing your praises.

“So wise! So powerful! So benevolent!”

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep a straight face. The theatrics were absurd, but there was a certain charm to it all.

Before you could respond, you felt a tug on your arm. Turning, you saw Toru standing beside you, her usually invisible form now outlined by a layer of snow clinging to her jacket and pants. Her hands, however, were bare, and you noticed her fingers were an alarming ice cold.

Without hesitation, you slid off your gloves and gently pulled them onto her hands. “Here,” you said softly, tugging the cuffs to make sure they fit snugly. “Keep these on.”

“Thanks,” Toru murmured, her voice grateful as she flexed her fingers inside the gloves.

Behind you, Sero muttered something under his breath in Spanish, his tone exasperated. “Coño, esto es ridículo,” he said, shaking his head as he trudged through the snow to join the growing group behind you. Shinsou, undeterred by the growing absurdity of the situation, continued his proclamation.

“The Snow Empress has arrived to bestow mercy upon you all! Bow before her, lest you face her icy wrath!”

The battlefield fell silent once more, all eyes turning to you. Katsuki’s face was a picture of disbelief, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at the spectacle. Izuku, still catching his breath, looked like he was torn between laughing and taking the situation seriously.

“What the hell is this?!” Katsuki finally exploded, his voice echoing across the park. “You’ve gotta be shitting me!”

Shoto leaned in close, his voice low and amused. “Your move, Empress.”

You straighten your posture, tilting your chin up as you surveyed the battlefield. “Enough,” you called out, your voice carrying over the snow. “This war has gone on long enough. Lay down your snowballs and return to your forts. Peace shall reign across these lands once more.”

Mina and Denki immediately burst into cheers, clapping and shouting in agreement. The rest of the class, however, seemed less convinced, their eyes darting between you and Katsuki.

“Like hell I’m stopping!” Katsuki roared, hurling his massive snowball straight into the sky. “This ain’t over until I say it’s over!”

The snowball came crashing down—right onto Katsuki’s own head, exploding in a puff of powder. The entire park erupted into laughter, and even you couldn’t suppress the grin spreading across your face.

“Well,” you said, turning to Shoto. “I guess that settles it.”

Shinsou smirked, “Peace restored, Empress.”

Another snowball came flying through the air in a graceful arc, landing squarely on Katsuki’s head and bursting into a puff of icy powder. The battlefield went quiet for a moment, stunned, before laughter erupted from all sides—except for Katsuki.

His head snapped toward Momo, whose snowball launchers were still smoking from their recent assault. Her chin was lifted, her expression regal and utterly unapologetic.

“For disrespecting my Empress,” she declared, stepping forward with the grace of a knight sworn to protect her queen.

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“You’re dead, Ponytail.”

Before anyone could blink, Katsuki lunged forward, snatching Shinsou up by the scarf like a sack of potatoes. The poor boy let out a choked gasp, flailing slightly as Katsuki dragged him upward.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Izuku shouted, darting forward with surprising speed. He grabbed Shinsou by the arm and yanked him back with all his might, prying him out of Katsuki’s grip.

“What the hell, Deku?!” Katsuki snarled, spinning around to face him.

Izuku held Shinsou protectively behind him, his freckled face scrunched in determination. “You can’t just attack people! We’re supposed to be having fun!”

“Fun?! This is fun!” Katsuki bellowed, gesturing wildly to the chaos around them.

Meanwhile, you strolled down the hill with all the grace of royalty, Shoto still at your side with his ice spear glinting in the sunlight. “Lady Yaoyorozu,” you greeted warmly, inclining your head toward Momo as if the chaos around you didn’t exist. Momo turned to you, lowering herself into an elegant curtsy. “Your Majesty,” she replied, her voice laced with pride.

Katsuki froze mid-rant, his eyes narrowing as he turned toward you and your entourage. His gaze darted between your serene expression, Shoto’s protective stance, and the full squad of Class 1-A members following in your wake. His lip curled into a sneer.

“What the hell are you all doing?” he demanded.

You tilted your head, offering him a faint, knowing smile.

“Hello, Consort.”

The title clearly caught him off guard. Katsuki blinked, his mouth opening as if to respond, but no words came out. You didn’t give him the chance to recover, turning your attention back to Momo.

“Lady Yaoyorozu,” you said again, your tone warm but firm. “What troubles you so? Is it this unruly rogue disturbing the peace of our lands?” Katsuki’s eyes widened slightly, and he pointed an accusatory finger at you.

“Oi! Are you ignoring me?!”

You didn’t even glance his way, your focus remaining solely on Momo. Behind you, Shoto leaned closer to Shinsou and Izuku, his voice low. “She’s decided she’s the Snow Empress,” he explained matter-of-factly.

Shinsou shrugged. “It just sort of… happened,” he added, his smirk growing wider.

Izuku blinked a few times, taking in the scene—the exaggerated bows, the medieval speech, the mock battle—and nodded with a small smile. “Got it,” he said simply, falling seamlessly into the act.

Just then, Kirishima emerged from behind a snowbank, jogging up to your group and skidding to a stop in front of you. He dropped to one knee, bowing his head deeply. “My Snow Empress,” he said dramatically, his voice tinged with desperation. “I cannot bear the cruel treatment of my master any longer. May I reside with you permanently instead?”

The rest of the class burst into laughter at his declaration, but Kirishima held his bow, waiting for your response.

“What the hell, Shitty Hair?!” Katsuki barked, his confusion and irritation growing by the second.

You raised a hand, gesturing for Kirishima to rise. “Gentle giant, you are always welcome in my court,” you said graciously, earning a grin and a playful wink from him.

Katsuki threw his hands in the air. “Okay, seriously, what the hell is going on?!”

You turned to him at last, your expression calm but commanding. “We are here to grant peace to these lands,” you said, your tone firm, “Or to destroy you, should you refuse to fall in line.”

The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the sound of snow crunching under Katsuki’s boots as he took a step forward. His lips twitched into a smirk.

“Destroy me, huh?”

Katsuki tilted his head slightly, adopting a mockingly regal posture. “A queen,” he began, his voice suddenly shifting into Shakespearean tones, “Surrounding herself with such… characters of the court?”

“Tch. How distasteful.”

Behind you, Denki leaned over to Mina, whispering, “Yo, who knew he’d be this good at this?”

“I know right?!”

You tugged Shoto and Shinsou closer, gesturing to them each in turn. “This is my assassin,” you said, nodding toward Shinsou, who grinned wickedly. “And this is the crown prince.”

Shoto gave a subtle nod, his expression cool and composed.

“And I,” Momo interjected, stepping forward proudly, “am the Countess, as well as your Empress’s blacksmith and weaponsmith.”

Katsuki snorted, crossing his arms. “Oh, so everyone’s got a role now, huh? Doesn’t matter.”

Without warning, he hurled a snowball at you. It soared through the air, fast and sharp—but it never reached its target. Shoto moved before you could react, a wave of heat rolling off him as he melted the snowball mid-flight, leaving nothing but a puff of steam in its place. You sighed, your expression hardening as you took a step forward.

“Everyone,” you said calmly, your voice steady but firm,

“Back up.”

Your entourage obeyed immediately, retreating to a safe distance. Only Katsuki remained, his fiery gaze locked onto yours.

“Now then,” you said, leveling him with a cool, unwavering stare.

“Let’s settle this, shall we?”

The icy chill of the battlefield buzzed with anticipation as the royal drama unfolded. Iida, ever the voice of reason and order, stepped forward with Shoji at his side. Both carried an air of solemnity as they began organizing the chaotic mass of Class 1-A into spectators. Iida raised his hands dramatically, gesturing toward the abandoned benches and bleachers that bordered the snowy grounds.

“Citizens of this most noble kingdom!” Iida declared, his voice booming with authority.

“Make haste to the arena’s viewing galleries, where you shall bear witness to history in the making. For this day shall determine the fate of the lands!”

Shoji nodded in agreement, his multiple arms gently guiding classmates toward their seats. As the crowd shuffled toward the bleachers, Sato emerged like an unexpected hero, carrying bags of freshly baked goods wrapped in foil. He moved through the gathered students like a medieval vendor at a festival, handing out warm treats to the eager onlookers.

“Bread for the people!” Kaminari called out gleefully, munching on a cookie.

“Enough sugar, Kami,” Jirou quipped, nudging him with her elbow. “You’ll get too hyper and end up in the lake again.”

The class settled in with murmurs of excitement, laughter, and nervous whispers about what was to come. Meanwhile, you stood proudly at the edge of the field, the snow crunching lightly under your light pink juicy couture snow boots as you surveyed the scene with the regal air of a ruler. Shoto and Shinsou flanked you on either side, their faces composed and determined, while Momo and Izuku stood a step behind you, ready to act as reinforcements.

Katsuki was a stark contrast, prowling like a tiger among his chosen knights. He yanked Kirishima forward, the red-haired boy wearing a theatrical expression of sorrow and betrayal.

“My Empress!” Kirishima called out mournfully, dropping to his knees as Katsuki tugged at the back of his scarf like a leash. “Forgive me, for I must serve this tyrant!”

You gave Kirishima a soft, reassuring smile. “Fear not, my gentle knight,” you said with unwavering confidence. “I shall free you from his chains.”

Katsuki scoffed, rolling his eyes but clearly enjoying the absurdity of it all. “Shut up, Shit locks,” he barked, dragging Kirishima backward like a misbehaving dog.

To everyone’s surprise, Katsuki then turned and gestured for Tokoyami to join his ranks. The brooding bird-like student strode forward, his cape billowing behind him as if he were summoned by some ancient force.

“Darkness always sides with the Demon King,” Tokoyami intoned ominously, taking his place beside Katsuki.

“Bro, he probably just wants dark shadow!”

“SHH, let him have this!”

“And glitter too, apparently,” Jirou whispered as Aoyama sauntered forward next, blowing a dramatic kiss to the crowd. Mina followed closely behind, her usual bubbly energy subdued as she adopted a determined, warrior-like posture. Katsuki pulled his team into a tight huddle, whispering strategies with a ferocity that only he could muster. His hands moved animatedly, pointing to you and your entourage as he outlined his battle plan.

“Do you think he’s plotting something crazy?” Shinsou asked, raising a brow.

“Probably,” Izuku muttered, his green eyes narrowing in thought. “But we’ll be ready.”

You turned to face your team, gathering them into a huddle of your own. Momo adjusted the strap of her snowball launcher, Shoto stood tall with his ice spear at the ready, and Shinsou smirked as if the whole thing was a game he was destined to win. In his hands two very sharp ice daggers twirled between his fingers.

“They’re formidable,” Shoto said, his tone even. “Are you confident we can win?”

You straightened your posture, meeting their gazes with unshakable resolve. “Of course. Katsuki may be my legal husband outside of this game, and within these snowy lands, he’s just another challenger. I have never backed down from a challenge.”

Momo smiled at your conviction, nodding firmly. “We’re with you, your Majesty.”

Before anyone could speak further, Iida’s commanding voice called your attention. He stood at the center of the field with Shoji, their figures outlined against the stark white snow.

“Attention, noble combatants!” Iida announced, his arms raised high.

“The terms of this duel have been decided. There shall be three rounds: The initial fight between the seconds of the royal couple, an all-out brawl lasting five minutes, and then a three-minute duel between any remaining champions. Finally, the Demon King and the Heavenly Snow Empress shall face one another to decide the future of the kingdom of freedom!”

A ripple of excitement moved through the crowd, and you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at the title Iida had bestowed upon you. Raising your hands to the spectators, you addressed them with a voice that carried authority and warmth.

“My loyal subjects, do not fear. I have never failed you before, and I shall not start now. Today, we shall emerge victorious, and peace shall reign across these lands once more!”

The crowd erupted in cheers, though Katsuki’s sharp laugh cut through the noise like a blade. He stepped forward, his expression both mocking and strangely alluring as he spoke in flawless Shakespearean tones.

“A queen so bold, yet so blind to the strength of her adversary,” he said, his voice low and resonant.

“Know this, my sweet Empress—thy reign shall end beneath my hand, and these lands shall bow to me.”

Your breath hitched for the briefest moment, not because of his words, but because of how dangerously captivating his voice sounded when laced with such romantic intensity. Yards away, someone let out a low whistle.

“Get your lady back Bakugou!”

“Kaminari!”

“What?! He’s like, roguishly charming!”

Iida stepped between you and Katsuki, raising his hands for silence.

“Before this battle begins, let us seek absolution for our sins,” he said solemnly, scooping up powdered snow and tossing it over both parties like ceremonial dust. Shoji then folded his hands together in prayer.

“May the heavens forgive ye for the carnage that is to come, and may the gates of paradise open should any noble soul perish this day.”

You dipped your head respectfully, bowing to him. “Thank you, kind Sir’s.”

Turning back to Katsuki, you met his fierce gaze with a calm, regal smile. “This is your final chance to surrender,” you said, your tone measured.

Katsuki smirked, a flicker of something polite—almost gentlemanly—crossing his features before his fiery resolve returned.

“Not a chance, Empress.”

You shrugged with the elegance befitting your title, swishing your cape as you returned to your huddle.

“Very well,” you said. “Let us give them a show they shall never forget.”

The air between the snowy battlefield and the bleachers seemed to grow colder as the first round of the duel began to take shape. You stood at the edge of your small gathering, Shinsou at your right, Momo adjusting her gloves, and Izuku scanning Katsuki's team like he was already calculating every possible move they could make.

You gestured to Shoto with a graceful wave of your hand, summoning him forward. "Shoto, you are my champion for this duel."

Shoto inclined his head, his expression stoic yet calm. "Understood."

Katsuki’s team shifted in the snow, and you expected Kirishima to step forward with his usual gusto. But instead, Katsuki raised a hand, silencing his team as he nodded toward Tokoyami.

The dark feathered avian boy emerged from the group with a theatrical flourish of his cape, his crimson eyes gleaming beneath his shadowed cowl. "The Demon King has chosen me as his sword for this battle," Tokoyami intoned, his voice deep and resonant.

You raised a brow in mild surprise, glancing back at Shinsou. He leaned toward you, his voice low and steady. "Want me to pull him out early? It’d be easy enough to get him to surrender with one word."

You shook your head, a small smile curling at your lips. "No, let Shoto handle this. He’s more than capable."

Though you were confident, you still decided to walk Shoto to the field. His calm presence beside you was a comfort, and you felt the eyes of everyone watching as the two of you descended the short incline to the center of the battlefield. The snow crunched lightly beneath your boots, and Shoto adjusted his spear as he awaited the start of the duel.

As you reached the middle, you turned your attention to Tokoyami.

"A good morrow to you, noble knight," you greeted him warmly, your tone light yet regal.

Tokoyami dipped his head in acknowledgment, but before he could respond, Dark Shadow peeked out from beneath his cape, chirping an enthusiastic, "Good morning!"

You smiled softly, pulling the white muff from your hands and extending it toward them. "For you," you said, your voice gentle. "The winds are bitter today, and even the bravest shadows deserve warmth."

Tokoyami’s eyes widened slightly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. He hesitated for a moment before accepting the muff with a small bow of his head. "You honor me, Your Grace," he murmured, his tone more reverent than usual.

Dark Shadow chirped again, clutching the muff with his tiny claws. "Thank you, Empress! So soft!"

You waved to the little shadow with a soft laugh, but the moment was interrupted by Katsuki’s loud, impatient snarl from the sidelines.

"Get on with it already!" he barked, his fiery glare fixed on you like a wolf eyeing its prey.

You turned your head slightly, meeting Katsuki’s scowl with a serene, knowing smile. Then, without a word, you turned back to Shoto and adjusted the scarf around his neck. Your fingers lingered for a moment, ensuring it was snug enough to block out the cold.

"Be careful," you murmured, your voice quiet enough that only he could hear.

Shoto’s mismatched eyes softened as he met your gaze.

"I shall. I will always return home to you, my Empress."

Your heart gave a small flutter at the sincerity in his voice. You placed your hands on his shoulders for a brief moment before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Then go," you said softly.

"And make me proud."

Shoto gave a small nod, his expression composed as he stepped forward to take his place on the field. He glanced back at you once, bowing his head in respect, before focusing his attention entirely on Tokoyami.

The snowy winds picked up slightly, carrying with them the faint murmur of the crowd. The atmosphere was electric, the tension palpable as the two combatants squared off, awaiting Iida’s signal to begin.

You stepped back to your side of the battlefield, your eyes never leaving Shoto as he readied himself for the duel. Katsuki’s snarling and Tokoyami’s calm resolve couldn’t shake your confidence in him.

From the bleachers, Kaminari’s voice rang out, breaking the tension for just a moment. "Man, this is better than any reality show I’ve ever watched!" "Shh!" Ochako hissed, elbowing him in the ribs.

Iida raised his hand high, the signal for silence.

"Champions of the court, prepare yourselves! May this duel be fought with honor and skill!"

The field fell silent as the match was about to begin. You clasped your hands together in front of you, your breath steady as you watched Shoto take his first step forward. The duel was about to begin, and the stakes had never felt higher.

The tension crackled like static as Shoto and Tokoyami squared off, the snowy expanse their battlefield. Shoto stepped forward, his ice trailing in sleek streaks beneath his boots, his breath visible in the biting air. Tokoyami's cape billowed behind him, and Dark Shadow hovered at his shoulder, glowing faintly with excitement.

Shoto opened with a swift strike, slamming his right hand to the ground as an intricate wave of jagged ice spread like wildfire. The ice surged toward Tokoyami, who leaped into the air, Dark Shadow carrying him higher before darting down with a spiraling lunge. Shoto sidestepped just in time, his expression calm, and retaliated by summoning a narrow pillar of ice, forcing Tokoyami to twist midair to avoid the collision.

"You’ve gotten faster," Shoto said, his tone measured as he straightened and swept a hand through his bangs.

"And you've grown more ruthless," Tokoyami countered, a faint smirk tugging at his beak.

They clashed again, Shoto releasing precise bursts of fire to counter Dark Shadow's quick strikes. The battlefield was a swirl of elements, ice shards glittering in the air as flames danced in vibrant contrast. Dark Shadow maneuvered expertly, keeping Shoto on the defensive, while Tokoyami stayed grounded, orchestrating each move like a seasoned tactician.

But then, the sky shifted.

Dark clouds rolled in without warning, blotting out the pale sun. The light dimmed until the snow-covered ground seemed to glow faintly beneath the oppressive grey. A chilling wind swept through, and the first clap of thunder rumbled low and ominous.

Your face blanched.

From across the field, Katsuki stood with his arms crossed, an all-too-familiar wicked grin stretched across his face. He lifted a hand and gave you a slow, mocking wave, his ruby eyes gleaming with unspoken mischief.

"He's up to something," Shinsou muttered behind you, his gaze narrowing on Katsuki.

"Always," Momo replied, her tone clipped.

On the field, Dark Shadow’s power seemed to swell under the shrouded sky. His form expanded, his strikes faster and heavier, and Tokoyami's confidence grew visibly as the battlefield became his domain. Shoto struggled to keep up, his ice slowing under the relentless onslaught.

You shouted from the sidelines, "Shoto, fall back! Reset!"

But it was too late.

As Shoto stepped back to reposition himself, his foot slipped on a patch of black ice—slick and near invisible against the snow. His eyes widened in alarm as his balance wavered, and before he could recover, Dark Shadow struck. A sweeping blow knocked Shoto clean off his feet, sending him sprawling onto his back with a sharp thud.

The field went still for a moment, and then the collective gasp of the crowd broke the silence.

Iida stepped forward, raising his arm.

"The first point goes to the Demon King, Bakugou!"

Cries and murmurs erupted from the crowd as you and Izuku rushed onto the field. Tokoyami extended a hand to Shoto, helping him to his feet with a small bow.

"Thank you for the honorable match," Tokoyami said solemnly.

Shoto dipped his head in return, brushing snow off his side. "And you as well."

You reached Shoto’s side, your hands instinctively going to his left arm as Izuku took his right. Shoto winced slightly but managed a faint smirk.

"I’m fine," he muttered, his voice low. "Though I think I’m going to feel a bump on my rump later."

You couldn’t help but laugh, and Izuku joined in, his face lighting up with a grin. "At least you’re still in good spirits," Izuku said, his hand steady on Shoto’s elbow. As you guided Shoto back to your group, Momo crossed her arms, her brow furrowed. "He had to have planned this," she said, glancing toward Katsuki, who was still smirking like a wolf who had just cornered its prey.

"He definitely planned this," Shinsou agreed. "He’s got a hard energy, and that storm? Yeah, he summoned that somehow."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "Please. Katsuki may be many things, but a sorcerer is not one of them. That role already belongs to Tokoyami."

"Easy for you to say," Shinsou shot back, a teasing lilt to his tone. "He snaps his jaw at everyone but you."

Before you could respond, Shoto, still catching his breath, added with a faint chuckle, "The rogue's not wrong."

You raised a brow at them both, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips.

"That’s because Katsuki bites me—with affection. And for the record, I rather enjoy it."

It got quiet as shit for a moment.

Momo’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushing slightly as she pressed a hand to her forehead.

"I will pray for you," she said with dramatic sincerity.

"Thank you," you replied, your tone light as you patted her shoulder.

Turning your attention back to Shoto, you gave him a once-over. "Do you need to sit this one out? No shame in resting." Shoto straightened, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms. "Nonsense. I’m fine," he insisted, his voice steady. "Though I might borrow some of those stretches Izuku taught me from his time in the hospital."

As Shoto began his stretches, you exchanged a glance with the green boy, both of you shaking your heads fondly. Katsuki’s voice called out from across the field, pulling your attention back to him. His grin was wider now, his eyes gleaming with anticipation for the next round.

Your group gathered under the makeshift wall you’d fashioned out of leftover ice blocks to shield everyone from the oncoming snow, the strategic discussion kicked off in earnest. Shinsou leaned casually against one of the abandoned snow boulders, his arms crossed as he surveyed the field. Izuku knelt in the snow, furiously sketching plans in the frost with his gloved hand while Shoto quietly stretched beside him, his focus sharpening with each deliberate movement. You stood at the center, glancing between everyone as ideas were tossed around, your hands tucked into your muff for warmth.

"We need to be careful," Shinsou started, his eyes narrowing as he gestured toward Katsuki’s team. "Bakugou’s got Kirishima and Mina—his heavy hitters—and the storm storm boosted Dark Shadow. They’re not playing around."

Izuku nodded, his breath puffing in the cold air. "He’ll send Mina in next. Her acid can cut through ice, and she’s quick enough to avoid fire attacks. Shoto, you’ll need to anticipate her movements."

Shoto flexed his fingers, the faint crackle of frost forming over his glove. "I can handle Mina," he said calmly. "But we need to anticipate her pairing with Kirishima. If he rushes in to cover her, it could get messy."

"We’ll counter with teamwork," you interjected, nodding toward Shinsou. "Shinsou, if you can neutralize Kirishima early with your quirk, we’ll have a better chance at overwhelming Mina. Momo, you’re my backup. Izuku, you’ll provide distraction."

"Understood," Shinsou said, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "I’ll make sure Kirishima’s too distracted to even touch you, Empress."

Before you could reply, a voice called out from the bleachers.

"Lady Momo! Would you find your way over here!" Jirou’s voice rang out, cutting through the strategy meeting. Momo blinked, glancing between you and the bleachers where Jirou was waving enthusiastically.

"Excuse me, your grace. I’ll be right back," she promised, smoothing her scarf as she headed toward Jirou. Denki, lounging lazily next to Jirou with a mischievous grin on his face, piped up. "Mo, can you make us a drink machine please? I’m parched."

Momo hesitated for a moment, then nodded with a small smile. "Of course," she said, summoning her quirk. With a graceful sweep of her back, she produced a small vending machine stocked with hot drinks to warm everyone’s spirits.

"Yes! Hot cocoa and coffee! You’re the best!" Denki cheered, bounding over to the machine as the rest of the crowd gathered around it. Sato, ever the gentleman, stepped forward with a wrapped pound cake. "For strength," he said warmly, handing the cake to Momo.

"Thank you, dear baker," Momo said graciously, her cheeks dusted with pink from the attention.

Jirou, meanwhile, fidgeted nervously with something in her hand, her usually cool demeanor cracking under the weight of her shyness. "Uh, Mo…" she began, her voice barely audible over the chatter.

Momo tilted her head, her expression curious. "Yes, Song bird?"

Jirou swallowed hard before thrusting a small ring toward her, her ears turning a deep crimson. "This is for you," she mumbled, not meeting Momo’s gaze.

Momo’s eyes widened as she accepted a grass ring, turning it over in her hand. It was simple but beautiful, clearly something Jirou had poured her heart into. "Jirou…this is lovely," Momo said softly, her voice laced with genuine gratitude.

Jirou ducked her head, scratching the back of her neck. "It’s nothing fancy. Just…a token, you know?"

Momo smiled warmly, slipping the ring onto her finger. "It’s perfect," she said sincerely, her words making Jirou’s ears twitch in delight. Not far off, Denki waved frantically at Kirishima, who was standing with Katsuki’s group.

"Yo, Kiri! Get over here!"

Kirishima hesitated, glancing at Katsuki, who immediately narrowed his eyes.

"Eijirou, don’t—"

But before Katsuki could grab him, Kirishima dashed over to Denki with a wild grin.

Denki, ever the joker, handed Kirishima a frozen leaf, his grin widening. "For you, bro. A token of our undying friendship." Kirishima let out a bark of laughter, clutching the frozen leaf dramatically. "This is priceless, man. I’ll treasure it forever!"

The two of them laughed, their playful camaraderie drawing amused glances from the others. Katsuki, meanwhile, stood in the distance, arms crossed and a vein twitching in his temple as he watched his "troops" scatter.

You turned back to your group, shaking your head with a wry smile. "Katsuki’s team is falling apart already," you said, your tone light.

Shinsou smirked, adjusting his scarf. "Don’t let your guard down. He’s still got something up his sleeve. Demon King or not, Bakugou isn’t one to go down easy."

"True," Shoto agreed, finishing his stretches. "But we’re ready for him. Let’s stick to the plan."

With that, the group reconvened, ready to face the next round with renewed determination. The snow continued to fall, but the fire of competition burned bright in everyone’s eyes.

The air felt thick with anticipation as Iida and Shoji stepped back onto the field, their figures slicing through the thickening snowflakes. Shoji's stoic presence commanded attention, while Iida’s precise and authoritative voice cut through the murmur of the crowd like a bell.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today for the second round of this glorious battle!"

Iida boomed, his voice almost as powerful as his actions, his eyes scanning the arena to make sure everyone was ready.

“Prepare yourselves, for the clash of champions approaches! Remember, once you leave the designated battlefield or stray out of sight, you will be disqualified!”

His words were clear, punctuated by the intensity of his gaze, ensuring everyone understood the weight of the rules. Shoji, ever silent, stood beside him, nodding to affirm the severity of Iida's command.

As the snow began to fall heavier, the swirling white mist seemed to grow darker under the ominous clouds overhead. It was almost as though the weather itself was becoming a reflection of the battle's rising stakes. Momo, ever the strategist, quickly set to work, her hands moving with practiced efficiency. With a flick of her wrist, she conjured a pristine white snow machine, its steady hum filling the chilly air, and began to prepare several pairs of goggles for Shinsou, Izuku, and Shoto.

The winter storm wasn’t going to let up anytime soon, and her foresight to protect their eyes was invaluable.

You stood there, taking a deep breath as you cracked your fingers, the gentle pop of your knuckles cutting through the crisp air. There was no hesitation in your movements now. You adjusted the scarfs and hats of your team, ensuring everyone was warm enough but still able to move freely. It was all about balance—warmth for defense, flexibility for offense.

Shoto, standing to your side, took a moment to channel his ice quirk, focusing intently as he exhaled. He then reached out, quickly warming everyone’s hands with a gentle, controlled burst of warmth, the icy chill of the air evaporating in seconds.

"Hold these carefully," he instructed, his voice steady and reassuring. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he created an ice spear—perfectly sculpted and sharp, designed for precision. "For defense, if needed." He handed it to Izuku, who nodded gratefully. A moment later, Shoto repeated the process, crafting a set of sleek ice knives and daggers for Shinsou, who flexed his fingers eagerly, preparing to fight with these new tools in his hands.

You flexed your own fingers in the cold air, feeling the familiar coolness spread through your limbs. Each of your movements was deliberate, the quiet assurance of a seasoned fighter beginning to hum beneath your skin. You couldn’t afford to hesitate—not today. Your eyes moved across the battlefield, seeking your opponent.

And there, at the other end, you saw him— your husband.

Katsuki was standing tall, his back straight, an aura of confidence and something darker surrounding him.

His presence loomed over the battlefield like a storm waiting to break. Katsuki was a force of nature, radiating an intensity that made the very ground beneath him tremble. His eyes gleamed with that familiar, wild spark as he whispered orders to his team—Kirishima, Mina, Tokoyami, and Ayoma. They nodded in unison, readying themselves for the fray, their resolve evident.

As you watched them, Katsuki’s gaze locked onto yours. His lips curled into a sly grin, the wicked glint in his eyes darkening the already grim atmosphere. He tilted his head, his hand gesturing in the air as he called out to you.

“Ah, Snow Empress, thou art so keen to play the game, but canst thou withstand the fury of the storm I’ve summoned?”

His words were mocking yet full of a strange affection, a reminder of the playful tension between you two.

You smirked, deciding that now was the time to make the rules even more entertaining.

“Very well, my subjects,” you called out to the crowd, your voice as clear as the ringing of a bell,

“Forsooth, from this moment forth, let it be known that all shall speak only in the tongue of Shakespeare or the nobility of old! All who dare speak otherwise shall forfeit their honor!”

You threw a wink toward your team, the playful gleam in your eyes urging them to play along.

The crowd erupted into cheers, the energy shifting as your command rippled through the battlefield like wildfire. Everyone—heroes, and onlookers alike—grinned and laughed, slipping into their medieval personas with exaggerated flair.

Momo held her head high, the elegance of a lady-in-waiting that could kill ya on full display as she adjusted her shield. Shoto cracked his neck and stretched, his eyes narrowing as he embraced the upcoming challenge with the calm composure of a knight prepared for battle. Izuku grinned, adjusting his scarf with the quiet dignity of a prince, while Shinsou’s smirk was that of a cunning strategist, ready to outwit any foe.

Katsuki, not one to be outdone, shook his head with a low chuckle.

“Very well, thy ‘Empress,’” he called back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“If it pleases thee, I shall meet thee on the battlefield, but know that I shall not be so merciful as to take pity on those who dare cross me.” He gestured to his team, and they stepped forward, each one standing tall and proud, fitting the roles they had now taken on.

"Now, for the first round," Iida announced once more, stepping forward, his voice firm but tinged with excitement. "I shall now call forth the leaders to announce their fighters for this duel!" His hand waved toward you, the leader of your group, signaling for you to begin.

You took a deep breath and stepped forward, your back straight, your presence commanding.

“I present to thee, my loyal knights and comrades, the fairest of them all—Momo Yaoyorozu, the Shield Maiden, who shall defend us with unwavering strength!” Momo stepped forward with a graceful flourish, her shield held high, and the crowd cheered for her.

“Next, my steadfast companion and warrior of ice, Shoto Todoroki, the Prince of Winter, who shall freeze or burn all who dare stand in his way!” Shoto nodded, his expression serene, his ice quirk flickering at the edges of his gloves as he prepared.

“Following him, the courageous and noble Izuku Midoriya, the rightful ruler and crown alchemist, whose strength lies not only in his body, but in his heart!” Izuku puffed out his chest and stepped forward with a humble but determined nod, his eyes locked on Katsuki’s team.

The hard blush on his freckled cheeks was really cute too!

“Lastly, I present to thee, the silent but deadly strategist, Hitoshi Shinsou, the Knight of Minds, who will outwit and outmaneuver our foes with unparalleled cunning!” Shinsou tipped his head to the crowd, a faint smirk crossing his lips as he surveyed the battlefield.

The crowd roared their approval, the tension building. Then, as if sensing the end of the ceremony, Iida turned toward Katsuki, his voice steady.

“And now, the Demon King’s chosen warriors!”

Katsuki suddenly stepped forward, raising a hand to silence the crowd. His crimson gaze glinted with mischief, and you instantly knew he was about to do something dramatic. The gathered subjects fell silent, their attention fully on him, though a few stifled giggles at his tone. Katsuki stood tall, arms crossed, as though he were the rightful ruler of this realm.

“Kirishima!” he bellowed, pointing at his best friend with a flourish. “A giant most unbreakable, a stalwart wall of strength and valor! He who doth stand firm against the tides of battle, red as the blood of our enemies!” Kirishima puffed up his chest, throwing up a fist and beaming.

“Hell yeah! Unbreakable for life!”

Katsuki gave him a curt nod before moving on, his tone growing sharper. “Mina! A rogue mage whose swiftness and guile make her a tempest upon the battlefield! Behold, the Acid Assassin, she whose strike is deadly and unseen!” Mina twirled in place, striking a dramatic pose and blowing a kiss to the crowd. “All in a day’s work!”

Next, Katsuki turned his piercing gaze to Aoyama, whose sparkles practically blinded everyone. Katsuki gestured grandly. “And lo, we have Aoyama! The Starblade of our forces, a radiant beacon of distraction—or destruction! Doth he not shine bright?”

Aoyama struck a dazzling pose, winking as sparkles trailed from his finger guns. “Mais oui! Magnifique!”

“And now,” Katsuki continued, his tone dropping into something darker, “Tokoyami and his loyal beast, Dark Shadow! The vanguard of the night, wielding shadows as their blade! Fear them, for they are the abyss that swallows the unwary whole!”

Tokoyami inclined his head solemnly, his expression as stoic as ever. Dark Shadow, however, roared with glee. Katsuki paused, surveying his ‘warriors’ with an expression of exaggerated pride.

“Together, these warriors, chosen by the Demon King himself, shall strike terror into the hearts of all who oppose us! Now rise, my army, and let us seize victory!”

His declaration was met with an eruption of cheers, laughter, and a few scattered claps. Mina leaned over to whisper loudly, “You really got into that, huh?”

“Shut it!” Katsuki snapped, though his ears were faintly red.

You clapped your hands together, grinning at him. “See? I told you the tongue of old worked.”

Katsuki shot you a warning glare, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a smirk.

“Yes, Yes. Do not become so reliant, Snow Empress.”

Before you could counter, Iida boomed, his voice almost as powerful as his actions, his eyes scanning the arena to make sure everyone was ready.

“Prepare yourselves, for the clash of champions approaches! Remember, once you leave the designated battlefield or stray out of sight, you will be disqualified!”

You stood there, taking a deep breath as you cracked your fingers, the gentle pop of your knuckles cutting through the crisp air. There was no hesitation in your movements now. As you watched them, Katsuki’s gaze locked onto yours. His lips curled into a sly grin, the wicked glint in his eyes darkening the already grim atmosphere. He tilted his head, his hand gesturing in the air as he called out to you.

“Ah, my love, thou art so keen to play the game, but canst thou withstand the fury of the storm I’ve summoned?” His words were mocking yet full of a strange affection, a reminder of the playful tension between you two.

The crowd erupted into cheers, the energy shifting as your command rippled through the battlefield like wildfire. Everyone—heroes, friends, and onlookers alike—grinned and laughed, slipping into their medieval personas with exaggerated flair.

Momo held her head high, the elegance of a lady-in-waiting on full display as she adjusted her shield. Shoto cracked his neck and stretched, his eyes narrowing as he embraced the upcoming challenge with the calm composure of a knight prepared for battle. Izuku grinned, adjusting his scarf with the quiet dignity of a prince, while Shinsou’s smirk was that of a cunning strategist, ready to outwit any foe.

Katsuki, not one to be outdone, shook his head with a low chuckle.

“Very well, soft ‘Empress,’” he called back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Kirishima rolled his shoulders, a fiery grin on his face as he pounded his fists together, ready to charge in as the fearless knight. Mina adjusted her scarf with a mischievous smirk, her energy electric like a rogue poised for action. Aoyama struck a dazzling pose, his wrap billowing dramatically as he declared victory in the stars. Tokoyami stood cloaked in shadow, Dark Shadow hovering menacingly beside him, both ready to unleash chaos. Katsuki cracked his knuckles, his smirk sharp and commanding, the Demon King prepared to lead his warriors into glorious battle.

The crowd roared their approval, the tension building. Then, as if sensing the end of the ceremony, Iida turned toward Katsuki, his voice steady.

Iida nodded once, satisfied. "Now, prepare yourselves!" he called. “The duel shall begin in earnest! Fighters, take your stations!”

With a final, powerful declaration, Shoji’s voice rang out across the field.

“Duel!”

And with that, the battle began. The snow swirled around y’all, the heavy clouds casting a dark shadow over the arena. A storm was coming, but which side would emerge victorious?

Well, no one, actually.

The arena had fallen silent.

No one moved; no one breathed. Each team stood poised, studying their opponents, calculating the first strike. Snow swirled lazily in the wind above, a quiet lull before the chaos of battle. There was something almost poetic in the stillness, the tension thick in the air, as if the entire world held its breath, waiting for someone to make the first move.

Then, like a lightning strike, a dagger soared through the air, glinting dangerously in the pale light. But before anyone could react, a sizzling hiss filled the air. Mina's acid quirk melted the dagger into a puddle before it could even hit its mark. A soft chuckle escaped from Shinsou's lips as he looked at Mina, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.

You could see it. He was proud of her—she had passed his test, keeping her cool and handling the first attack with ease. She didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate.

And that was exactly what you needed.

A breathless moment of stillness passed, before it shattered like glass.

Without warning, Katsuki lunged forward, his hands crackling with raw energy, determination burning in his eyes. "Don’t just stand there, ya bastards!" he bellowed, his voice cutting through the snowstorm as he charged.

"Go!" You shouted, the command ringing in the cold air. Your team sprang into action.

You raised your hands high, the motion slow, deliberate. The snow above began to thicken and churn, swirling in an ominous vortex. With a forceful thrust of your arms, you brought the snowstorm down in a violent gust. It crashed against Katsuki and his team with the force of a winter avalanche, enveloping them in thick, stinging snow. The gusts were so powerful that even their shouts were muffled by the weight of the blizzard.

Katsuki's voice cut through the white-out, full of frustration and defiance. "Tch, don’t think you’ve won yet!" He gritted his teeth as the snow blanketed him, his body tense. The wind howled around him, and with a growl, he surged forward, pushing through the frozen mist.

But as he moved, you were already behind him, the flick of your wrist sending a barrage of snowballs hurtling through the air. The impact was sharp, freezing. Katsuki flinched, his body jerked back for a second as the cold splattered over him, but he quickly recovered, his fiery spirit refusing to be subdued.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Kirishima pop up in front of you, his grin wide, the determination in his eyes matching the fierce storm around you. Before he could even close the gap, Momo was there, tackling him with surprising strength, her shield ready to defend against whatever he might throw her way.

Meanwhile, Shoto, Izuku and Katsuki were locked in an intense battle, their powers colliding in a brilliant spectacle of ice and fire. The arena seemed to tremble with every strike, their wills clashing like titans. Sparks flew in all directions as their abilities pressed against each other—Katsuki’s explosions against Shoto’s chilling cold.

It was the perfect clash of opposing forces.

Shinsou was already in motion, his eyes gleaming with concentration. He darted across the battlefield, his mind working at full speed as he engaged Tokoyami. Dark Shadow surged from the shadows, an eerie presence that seemed to grow with every move, but Shinsou was a step ahead. His voice cut through the chaos like a blade, and Tokoyami hesitated, a momentary lapse in his focus.

In that second of distraction, Shinsou made his move. He darted in, grabbing the bird mans arm and quickly binding Tokoyami’s legs with the power of his mind, and before Dark Shadow could react, Shinsou knocked him hard towards the bleachers. The force sent him tumbling, landing unceremoniously with a loud thud. The crowd gasped as Tokoyami was caught mid-air by Sato, who grinned sheepishly and offered him some crumble cake as a peace offering.

Iida’s voice rang out from the sidelines, booming through the cold air.

“Point for her heavenly majesty!” His words hung in the air for a moment before he continued,

“Tokoyami and Dark Shadow are out!”

The game was already in full swing, but you knew that victory wasn’t just about power—it was about timing, strategy, and the willingness to push your limits. And you could feel that in the air now. The momentum was shifting, but the battle was far from over.

As the chaos swirled around you, you suddenly felt the silence of the battlefield grow heavy. You could see Katsuki on the other side, and his narrowed gaze momentarily locked onto yours. He’d backed Shoto into a corner near a park bench, the two of them still locked in an intense exchange. His hand was raised, ready to strike again, but you didn’t let him get the chance.

Without hesitation, you threw a snowball, watching as it sailed across the distance. It smacked into Katsuki’s back with a hard thud. He froze for a split second, stunned by the unexpected attack, and then slowly turned, his eyes locking onto you.

There was no warning, no hesitation in his expression—just that familiar, dangerous grin.

You blew him a kiss from across the battlefield, a playful challenge in your eyes.

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, a silent promise passing between you two—a promise that this battle was far from over. You could see his mind working, calculating, anticipating your next move. But you were already ahead of him.

The battlefield felt like a chaotic blur of movement, where every step, every breath was calculated, and yet, in a moment, it could all come undone. The air was thick with snowflakes swirling violently in the storm you’d summoned, and the ground beneath your feet trembled as each battle raged on. It was a dance of powers—ice, fire, acid, explosions, and the hum of quirk energy that filled the air. And you were right in the heart of it, pulling the strings, making sure your team was always in motion, always ready to strike.

You darted through the snow, your steps light but purposeful, and spotted Shinsou across the way. He was exchanging blows with Tokoyami and Dark Shadow earlier, but now he caught your eye. His face was focused, serious, as he gauged the chaos around him. You nodded once, then called out, your voice carrying over the battlefield.

“Shinsou! Hypnotize Ayoma! Get him to blind Kirishima—quickly! We need expel him from the equation!” You barely finished the sentence before Shinsou, his eyes narrowing in understanding, was already off, darting through the snowstorm. You watched as he weaved through the chaos, heading straight for Ayoma with an almost predatory grace.

“Understood,” he called back without breaking stride. A moment later, Shinsou was by Ayoma’s side, whispering words that made the young man pause in his actions. Ayoma seemed hesitant for a second, but the weight of Shinsou’s orders was clear, and with a nod, Ayoma positioned himself just out of Kirishima’s line of sight.

You didn’t wait for it.

The moment Shinsou made his move, you turned your attention back to Kirishima, who was still thrashing wildly in the middle of the battlefield, locked in combat with Momo. His energy was almost contagious, and you could feel it radiating off him.

But that wasn’t going to stop you.

“Momo!” you shouted, your voice urgent, and you could see her turn to you, her shield held tight in her hands, her face a mask of concentration. "Prepare yourself!” You didn’t wait for a response—this was a battle of seconds.

With a quick leap, you soared through the air, the snow beneath you spraying into the air in a flurry. You aimed for Kirishima’s back, the one spot you had to use. The moment your hands landed on his broad shoulders, you grasped hold with all your strength, feeling his muscles tense beneath you as he bucked and kicked like a wild ram, trying to dislodge you. His movements were wild, fierce, but you held on, knowing that you had only one chance to do this.

Suddenly, your back was warm—almost too warm.

And as you held tight, you suddenly felt something too hot to ignore searing through your coat. A gasp left your lips, and you tore away your outer layer in instinct, ripping the coat off your body as you quickly tried to get clear.

You didn’t even have time to think before you caught sight of Momo beside you. Without a second’s hesitation, you yanked her with you, pulling her from the chaos of the battle as you ran, using your ice powers to craft a thick, towering wall of snow between you and the opposition.

The snow wall rose swiftly, but you didn’t stop to admire your work. You spun around to face your pursuers, your breath coming out in sharp, misty gasps. And that’s when you saw her—Mina, smoke flickering at her fingertips, her eyes wide with concern as she sprinted to Kirishima’s side.

“No! I’m sorry!” Mina shouted, her voice full of urgency as she pushed past the snow and flames that licked at her heels. “Lord Bakugou ordered me to save him—!” She didn’t finish her sentence, the heat from her quirk licking dangerously close to Kirishima as you watched in disbelief.

Kirishima's stance softened as he looked back to you. His broad, garnet eyes scanned you for any sign of harm. "You alright my Lady?" he called, his voice softer now, the fierceness of the fight fading as he saw the concern on your face.

You gave him a nod, trying to brush off the burning sensation from your back.

“I’m fine, gentle Kirishima! Just—uh, just a little singed,” you said, a little breathless as you tossed your burned coat toward the bleachers, hoping to distance yourself from the now-burning fabric.

Koda, ever the curious soul, shot his hand out to catch the falling coat, but just as his fingers brushed against the cloth, a realization hit him. He hesitated, his eyes growing wide. “Uh... wait, this is—” he began, looking down at the now-scorched garment in his hands.

Before anyone could react, Denki pulled him back, his face contorted with alarm. “Nope! Nope, nope, nope!” He backed up quickly, eyes wide as he realized the acid from Mina’s quirk was still lingering on the fabric.

The entire scene seemed to pause at that moment. The tension on the battlefield was palpable, and the fleeting second that passed felt like eternity. Koda quickly dropped the coat, and everyone held their breath, watching as it settled onto the ground, untouched by further flame or explosion.

Meanwhile, Momo gave you a concerned look, her brow furrowed, her shield still tightly held in her hands. “Are you really alright? That... looked like it hurt,” she said, her voice soft but laden with worry.

You waved her off with a chuckle, trying to shake off the sting in your back. “I’m fine, really. Just... a little more heat than I expected.” You could still feel the burn, but you pushed it aside, focusing on the battle that was still very much in motion.

The tension in the air was thick, like the weight of a storm waiting to break. The snowstorm, which had been both your weapon and shield, continued to swirl, but now it was becoming a frenzy, a storm of your own making, as you pushed your powers to their limits.

Momo's machines roared to life again, but this time, they were in overdrive. She'd instructed them to go wild, and they did. Snow blasted out in sheets, slamming down on Katsuki and Kirishima. The two of them were taken by surprise, caught in the avalanche of ice and snow that left them momentarily disoriented. This was the chance you’d been waiting for.

“Now!” you shouted to Momo, who was already dashing ahead, her own speed unmatched as she leapt through the chaos with the grace of a seasoned fighter.

You followed close behind, your breath heavy with determination as you surged forward, your heart pounding in time with each step. You could see Kirishima, trapped in the snowstorm, still fighting to regain his bearings.

Without hesitation, you launched yourself toward him again, leaping onto his back as you had before. But this time, there was no hesitation. You slid your hands underneath his shirt, sending a blast of freezing cold through him.

His entire body stiffened at the sudden chill, his muscles tensing under your touch. Kirishima let out a surprised grunt, but you held firm, your grip tight on his torso. You could feel the heat radiating from his body trying to fight against the ice creeping through him, and it was a momentary advantage that you seized with all the strength you had.

But before you could even enjoy the victory, Mina surged forward, her body ablaze with her acidic flames.

The heat was unbearable, and she quickly melted away Momo’s defenses, turning her shield into nothing but puddles of melted plastic. With a swift move, Mina knocked Momo out of the bounds, sending her sprawling across the field.

Iida immediately called out the disqualification, his voice cutting through the noise like a referee blowing the final whistle. But the sound was barely heard over the roar of Kirishima as he whipped you off his back with a violent toss, sending you flying through the air.

You landed with a soft thud, a laugh escaping your lips as you pushed yourself back to your feet. “Good show, Kirishima!” you called, a smile crossing your face.

Shoto seized the opportunity. Without missing a beat, he froze Kirishima’s legs, locking the red giant in place just as you had hoped. The icy spikes burst from the ground, wrapping around Kirishima’s lower half, and he froze mid-step.

But just as things seemed to be tipping in your favor, Izuku appeared, charging in from the side, his kick landing squarely in Kirishima’s chest. The force of the blow sent the redhead flying out, and Shoji called out the announcement, marking him as out.

Victory was almost within reach.

Almost.

Kirishima wasn’t out at all. With a mighty roar, the red giant broke free of the ice restraints, charging at you with a renewed fury. You could see the raw power in his eyes, his muscles tense, his every movement an unstoppable force. He was coming at you like a freight train, but you weren’t ready to back down—not yet.

Izuku, ever the strategist, had already broken off, turning his attention back to Katsuki, who was still in the middle of his attack. You yelled at Shoto. “Go with him!” you ordered, knowing it would take both of them to handle the dynamo of explosions that was Katsuki.

Shoto nodded, his expression serious as he sprinted off in the direction of Izuku. You turned to face the rapidly advancing Kirishima, the snowstorm around you beginning to feel like a blur. But you had a back up plan.

You dashed over to a cluster of ice blocks, the snow swirling around you as you summoned even more. “Make haste!” you shouted, your voice cutting through the chaos as Kirishima drew nearer. The icy wall rose up between you and him, but you didn’t wait for him to approach. You launched yourself over the barrier, using the ice to propel yourself upward and forward.

At that exact moment, you saw Shinsou and Ayoma pop up, just as planned. Ayoma blinked his dazzling, intense light at Kirishima, blinding him for just a second.

It was enough.

Kirishima stopped in his tracks, his vision clouded, and that was all Shinsou needed. “Blink for me,” Shinsou’s voice was calm but firm, his quirk taking immediate effect. Ayoma’s eyes glazed over for a moment as Shinsou’s control over him took hold. He blinked, just as Shinsou had commanded.

And that’s when you pounced.

With one fluid motion, you grabbed Kirishima’s legs, pulling him down to the ground. It was only a momentary distraction, but it was enough for Shinsou to fully take control of him.

Kirishima, now under Shinsou’s influence, turned and began charging at Katsuki, completely unaware of his previous actions. Katsuki watched in stunned silence as his teammate barreled toward him, confusion flashing in his eyes.

And then—chaos.

Izuku’s scream sliced through the air like a knife, panic rising in your chest as you whipped around. The scene unfolded with startling speed—Mina, a wicked grin on her face, had launched a new form of attack,

An 'acid' snowball.

It exploded against Izuku with a sickening hiss, the acid beginning to eat through his costume. His face twisted in pain, and you wasted no time.

"Shinsou!" you shouted, urgency in your voice. "Escort Ayoma out of bounds to cease his suffering!"

You barely heard his affirmative as you surged toward Izuku, the snow beneath you crunching with each step. You summoned a blast of cold, freezing the acid in Mina’s hands just before she could hurl another attack.

With a quick movement, you gathered the power to throw a snowball, launching it at Mina's neck. The impact was immediate, and she stumbled back, her face a mix of surprise and anger as she fell to the ground. You rushed to Izuku’s side, grabbing one of her arms, your hands quick and efficient as you pulled her off him and began to freeze her.

“COLD! COLD!”

Izuku, gasping for breath, stumbled to his feet as together, you pulled Mina out of bounds, just as Iida’s voice echoed through the arena, calling her out.

But the chaos didn’t stop.

The moment you thought the danger had passed, you turned to see Katsuki and Kirishima locked in a violent struggle, their power struggling against each other. Shoto, doing his best to keep the situation from escalating into something worse, was struggling to hold the two back. You felt the ground rumble beneath you as explosions punctuated the scene.

"Lighten the fall!" you barked, directing your focus on the storm that had been your ally. You felt the snow above soften, the weight of it lifting just enough for you to see clearly once more.

But then, the worst happened.

Mina, not fully subdued, was back on her feet faster than you expected. Her eyes glinted with mischief as she threw a punch straight into Izuku’s chest, knocking the air out of him. Before you could react, she kicked him hard, sending him sprawling over the line, her victory a sharp contrast to the tenderness you’d felt just moments ago.

You screamed in desperation, reaching out for Izuku’s hand as he slid past the boundary, calling out to you with a voice full of pain and determination.

"Empress!" he yelled, his eyes locked onto yours as his hand nearly brushed against yours.

But before you could make the distance, strong arms wrapped around your waist, dragging you backward.

Kicking and struggling against the hold, you twisted in Shinsou’s grip, realizing what he was doing. He pulled you back, his voice stern in your ear.

“You know the penalty,” he reminded you with a hint of reprimand. “Touching someone out of bounds is probably against the rules.”

Iida was already marching over, his stern gaze focused on you both. He called out, marking Mina and Izuku as out, his voice the final nail in the coffin.

Izuku, though clearly shocked, didn’t stay down for long. He was helped up by Sato, a supportive hand on his shoulder. Mina, apologetic, rushed over, her face full of remorse as she helped him stand. Izuku, ever the optimist, smiled despite the bruises and the burns, and began gushing about her hand-to-hand combat skills.

“That was insane, Mina! I didn’t even see that coming!” he said, his enthusiasm infectious as they walked together toward Ochako and Tsu for bandages.

You turned back to the battle, feeling the tight knot of concern twisting in your gut. Shoji’s voice rang out, announcing the final two minutes of the match.

You bolted forward, not willing to let the others fall apart now.

You and Shinsou arrive just in time to see Katsuki about to launch his next attack, his eyes narrowed and focused solely on Shoto, ready to unleash another explosive blast. Your heart pounded in your chest as you rushed forward, throwing yourself between Shoto and the impending danger.

With a desperate surge, you snatched Shoto out of harm's way, pulling him hard against your chest and leaping out of the blast radius just as the explosion rang out. The shockwave reverberated through your body as the ground beneath you cracked from the force of the blast.

You felt the heat of the explosion wash over you, a fleeting burn that you barely noticed compared to the adrenaline coursing through your veins. For a split second, you thought you'd managed to save him, but the momentary sense of victory was short-lived.

The next turn of events, however, was something none of you could have anticipated.

Kirishima, still locked in battle with Shinsou’s mental command, stopped dead in his tracks. His muscles, usually so full of life, tensed. He blinked, as though shaking off a haze, but then, instead of obeying Shinsou's command, his body began to harden with alarming speed. You barely had time to react before his massive hand shot out and grabbed you, lifting you effortlessly off the ground.

“Sorry,” Kirishima whispered, his voice surprisingly gentle as his hardened grip clamped down around your torso. You barely had time to register his words before you were jerked through the air, the speed and force of his movements making your stomach drop, breaking your hold on Shoto.

Your eyes widened as you realized what was happening too late. “Kirishima!” you gasped, trying to wriggle free, but his hold on you was unbreakable.

And then, to your horror, you saw Shoto—falling, caught in the full force of Katsuki’s explosion.

The blast hit Shoto directly, and you watched in helpless agony as the explosion engulfed him. The sheer heat of the attack made the air shimmer, the snow around you turning into steam. For a heartbeat, everything went still.

Katsuki’s eyes locked on you, and in that moment, everything fell silent.

You had lost your grip on Shoto, a momentary lapse as you realized just how badly the situation had shifted.

It was all too late.

Kirishima’s hold on you tightened, and the chaos of the battlefield blurred around you, the future uncertain as you were forced to watch the disaster unfolding before you.

The frigid air burned your lungs as the weight of the moment pressed down on you. Your anger, a burning fire beneath the ice-cold surface of the snow-covered battlefield, surged within you, pulsing with the urgency of a thousand untold stories. Kirishima’s grip on you was tight, unrelenting, but in that instant, you knew it would break.

With a defiant twist, you threw your head back, the motion swift and desperate, your skull colliding with his nose. A sickening crack echoed in the silence of the snow-dusted park. He staggered back with a grunt, releasing you just as you summoned the ice, the chill of your power freezing his form, encasing him in a wall of solid frost that captured him effortlessly.

The snow around you seemed to hold its breath as you dropped to your knees, the cold biting at your skin as you cradled Shoto's head in your lap. The weight of him against you, so familiar, so loved, made your heart ache. His breathing was shallow at first, ragged from the blast, but you could feel the steady thrum of his pulse, the warmth of his skin beneath your hand.

You traced the lines of his face gently, your fingertips brushing against the coolness of his skin. Those eyes—the ones you cherished so deeply, the ones that had once glimmered with quiet confidence, now hazy with the remnants of the explosion—fluttered open, meeting your gaze. His lips parted, a soft apology escaping him, but you stopped him with a gentle shush, pressing your forehead to his.

"You fought bravely for me, Shoto," you whispered, the words a soothing balm for his troubled heart. "You did everything right. You acted with honor. Unlike him."

You raised your gaze to Katsuki, who was sitting comfortably encased in ice, seemingly unaffected by the trap you had set for him. He smirked at you, his posture arrogant, almost smug as he crossed his arms. He let out a low, mocking laugh and spoke in harsh tones, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Always the hero, aren’t you? Always coming to the rescue of your baby brother.”

“Too bad it’s also your folly.”

The bite in his words made your blood run cold, and you glared at him, the ice beneath you crackling as your anger surged again, sharper this time. You weren’t going to let him insult your honor—or your love for Shoto.

You snapped your fingers, the sharp sound echoing in the otherwise still park, and in an instant, Hitoshi’s ice dagger was flying through the air. It sliced through the air like lightning, the sharp edge meeting Katsuki’s cheek, leaving a thin red line where the ice scraped him, a symbol of his defiance. He winced but didn’t flinch—his smirk remained,

The arrogant bastard.

"That is enough chatter out of you," you growled, your voice a low and dangerous hum in the cold, snowy air.

“Ahem.”

The sound was unexpected, pulling your attention away from the frozen scene in front of you. You turned, your gaze shifting to the newcomers. Sero, Sato, and Ayoma, standing nearby. Their expressions were a mixture of concern, admiration, and caution. They’d arrived just in time, but you didn’t have time to waste.

You gently untied your scarf from your neck, the fabric soft against your fingertips as you wrapped it around Shoto’s hands, tying it carefully to keep them warm. You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering for a moment as you whispered a prayer for his safety.

"Go," you urged, your voice soft but firm, your hands brushing his hair back as you sent him off with a nod.

Shoto, still groggy but steady enough to stand, gave you one last look of gratitude before he left, aided by the boys. They would get him to safety, out of the bounds of the match, and you knew they’d protect him with everything they had.

As you rose to your feet, the park around you seemed to shrink in the distance. The snow had begun to fall heavier now, a soft flurry that blurred the world into a hazy vision of white and grey. The sky was still overcast, casting a dim light over the whole scene. The landscape was a blur of snow-covered trees, frozen ponds, and the distant sounds of muffled movement as your classmates struggled to recover from the chaos of the battle.

The weight of the moment settled over you. This had started as a game. A simple rivalry.

But now, it was personal.

You held yourself tall, letting your posture straighten, the regal air of an empress seeping into your very bones. Your heart beats with a dangerous resolve, the fire inside you burning brighter than the frozen landscape around you. You weren’t just fighting for your people anymore. You were fighting for everything they Shoto stood for, for the honor that Katsuki had long forgotten.

The battlefield was quiet for a heartbeat. The snow was falling steadily now, covering the ground, coating the trees, and obscuring everything in the pale grey wash of winter. The world felt cold, detached, and far away, but your mind was focused on one thing.

You were going to teach your husband a lesson. One he would never forget.

And as you raised your chin high, meeting the eyes of the one who had insulted your family, you whispered, “This ends now.”

The tension in the air hung heavy as Iida’s voice rang out, cutting through the cold silence that had enveloped the field.

"Time!" he declared, his voice firm, authoritative, and final.

"The battle is over. This match ends in a draw."

A chorus of boo’s erupted from the bleachers, the sounds echoing through the snow-filled park. Disappointment rippled through the group, the heat of the battle fading into the quiet aftermath. You took a deep breath, your eyes flicking briefly to Kirishima, who stood there, stiff as a statue, waiting for any sign of acknowledgment. You didn’t give him the satisfaction. Your eyes slid past him, the coldness of your expression unwavering as you walked towards your subjects, your loyal comrades.

Your footsteps crunched through the snow as you moved, the sight of everyone huddled together, chatting and laughing, warming your heart despite the chill in the air. They were no longer pretending to be the war-torn soldiers they once were, the echoes of the ‘snow war’ finally starting to fade. They were simply friends again, a family bound by shared experiences and memories. You smiled softly at the scene, grateful for the laughter, the relief, and the camaraderie that filled the space.

But Kirishima’s voice broke through, his tone full of regret and pleading. “Empress,” he called out, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. “I—I’m sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean it. I—”

You turned away from him without a word, ignoring his attempt to make amends, your attention fully on the group ahead. Denki, ever the cheeky one, chimed in from the side, his voice as playful as always, though laced with a dramatic flair. "He should be tried for treason!" he declared, his hand making an exaggerated gesture in the air.

“For the insult to our royal honor! To her excellency!”

The air between the group seemed to lighten with his words, the tension of the battle slipping into a more playful, almost medieval atmosphere. Hitoshi, standing slightly apart from the group, his eyes never leaving Katsuki as he stood isolated, spoke up, his voice teasing, but with a hint of insight.

“He kinda looks lonely over there, doesn’t he?” His words were playful, but there was an undercurrent of truth. Katsuki was still encased in ice, looking almost pitiful in his defeat, as if the heat of his explosions couldn’t thaw the chill in his heart.

You glanced over to where Katsuki stood, his arms crossed, his smirk gone. His icy demeanor seemed almost self-imposed as he watched you, and for a brief moment, you felt a flicker of sympathy. But you quickly squashed it, the fire of your pride burning hotter.

“It’s his own doing,” you muttered under your breath, the words harsh but necessary, your gaze hardening as you turned back to your friends, to your family.

A soft voice called your name from behind, pulling your attention. You turned to see Shoto sitting up from where he had been lying in the snow with Izuku and Mina. His usual calm demeanor was evident, though a playful grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “It’s alright, Sis,” he said, the hint of teasing in his voice.

“It was all just dramatics. I’m fine.”

Izuku, who had been sitting beside him, gave a thumbs up with a grin. Mina, her usual fiery self, looked at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Just a little bit of extra flair for the show.” She waved it off, clearly not bothered by the near explosion she’d witnessed.

The sound of their laughter was like music to your ears, and you couldn’t help but smile, the weight of the battle lifting from your shoulders. Shoto was indeed fine. No lasting harm done. Just the theatrics of the moment, designed to add some spice to the otherwise quiet end.

You walked towards them, your stride confident and regal, the snow beneath your boots crunching as you made your way. “I should’ve known better,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Always the dramatics with you all.”

Kirishima, still standing off to the side, looked on in silence, but his eyes softened as he watched you approach the others. His words of apology still hung in the air, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything just yet. Instead, you joined your friends, your subjects, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you could truly relax, basking in their warmth and joy.

They had your back. You had theirs.

So….

“Oh, do not look so downtrodden,” you say with a teasing smile, reaching out to Kirishima. Before he can fully process your words, you wrap your arms around the big guy and pull him into a playful hug, leaning back slightly to sway him with you. His eyes widen in surprise, but the relief washing over his face is immediate.

“All is forgiven, Sir Kirishima,” you add warmly, patting his shoulder for emphasis.

The air shifts instantly, the tension melting like the snow under the bright sun. The rest of the group cheers and hollers, clapping and laughing at the display of forgiveness. Denki pumps his fist in the air, shouting something about, “Cheers for the Empress’s heart,” while Mina dramatically wipes an imaginary tear. Even Hitoshi offers a faint smirk, twirling one of the remaining ice daggers in his hand before letting it fall harmlessly to the ground.

The joyful noise quiets as Momo raises a hand, her posture as graceful as ever despite the chill. She’s still wrapped up with Jirou, who looks equally intrigued by what’s to come.

“My lady,” Momo begins, her voice carrying a regal tone that matches the medieval atmosphere you’ve all conjured.

“What shall you do when you face off against your husband?”

You pause, tilting your head thoughtfully. The group leans in, their breath visible in the frosty air as they await your response. Then, as if struck by inspiration, you grin widely, the kind of grin that hints at mischief. “Momo,” you say, your voice rich with excitement,

“Would you tailor me a cherry red robe? I have a plot stewing.”

The circle tightens as everyone huddles together, their curiosity piqued. The snow crunches softly beneath your boots as you step closer to Momo, who nods in acknowledgment, already mentally sketching out the design. Whispered plans ripple through the group like a shared secret, the buzz of excitement building. Even Shoto, still lounging in the snow next to Izuku and Mina, leans in with interest, his dual-toned eyes gleaming with intrigue.

While you’re immersed in your plotting, Katsuki moves.

The ice encasing him begins to shift subtly. Unbeknownst to anyone, he’s been melting the interior into warm water for some time now, the heat from his palms steadily eating away at his frozen prison. With a sharp crack, the last layer shatters, and he steps out, steam rising from his skin as if he were a fiery god emerging from the snow.

Katsuki doesn’t announce himself, nor does he storm over to disrupt your plans.

Instead, he stands there, watching the scene before him. The corners of his mouth tug downward into a slight frown, but the emotion behind it isn’t anger—it’s something more subdued, almost wistful. He folds his arms across his chest, his crimson eyes locked on you.

He tells himself it doesn’t bother him. The group huddled around you, the way they gravitate toward your leadership, the way they laugh so freely in your presence—it’s fine. He doesn’t need their approval or attention. But…

Katsuki’s gaze softens slightly, lingering on you. He watches the way you smile, the way you effortlessly bring everyone together, your laughter bright and contagious even in the freezing cold. He remembers the first time he saw that smile, in this very park, no less. It was below -28°C that night, the bitter chill biting at every inch of exposed skin. UA’s curfew was long past, but you had both braved the icy weather, sitting side by side on the old swings. He hadn’t cared about the snow then, or the cold.

All he could think about was how beautiful you looked, your cheeks flushed from the chill, your eyes alight with wonder as you gazed up at the night sky.

Katsuki hadn’t been looking at the stars that night. He’d been looking at you. That was the moment he’d known—you were it for him.

The only one.

So yeah, it actually stung a little to see you so engrossed with the rest of the class while he stood off to the side. It hurts more than he’d like to admit to be excluded, to feel like the outsider when he is yours. And the cut on his face from Hitoshi’s ice dagger?

That wasn’t just a sting; it was an insult.

But he wasn’t about to say any of that.

Instead, he smirked to himself, his trademark cocky grin returning as his crimson eyes gleamed with a familiar spark. If you wanted to band together with these extras and plot against him, fine. Let them have their moment. He’d remind you who your true loyalty was with soon enough.

His smirk deepened as he thought about you—his wife, his empress.

The woman who always made sure he wore that he was bundled up in this kind of weather, even when he grumbled about it. The woman who fussed over him endlessly, whether it was over a scraped hand or a missed meal, despite his protests and rough words.

The queen who knew exactly how he liked his coffee—strong, no sugar—and made it for him every morning without fail, just because she wanted him to start his day right. The princess who listened to his rants, no matter how long or loud, and never made him feel like he was too much to handle. The peach who could calm the storm inside him with a single touch, a soft word, or that crooked smile of hers that he swore could knock him out harder than any villain ever could.

The lady who laughed at his terrible jokes—because yes, he did have a sense of humor, damn it—and never let him forget that he was more than just a hero. The one who made their house feel like home, filling it with warmth, love, and a softness he never knew he needed until she was there. The person who always saw the best in him, even when he was too stubborn to see it in himself, and somehow made him want to be better every single day.

And perhaps most importantly, the woman who loved him fiercely, unconditionally, and with a depth that left him breathless. The one who made him believe that he deserved all of it—her care, her warmth, her love—even on the days when he doubted himself the most. The spirit who somehow made freezing winter days feel warm and bright just by existing in them, her presence chasing away the bitter chill like the sun breaking through the clouds.

The girl who somehow made his heart feel safe and warm and light just by being here.

Katsuki glanced down at the snow beneath his boots, kicking at it absentmindedly.

Whatever. If you wanted a war, you’d get one. Katsuki shoved his hands into his pockets, letting the warm steam rise around him. The icy chill in the air didn’t faze him—not when he was already planning how to make you all pay.

Starting with you, his pretty little Empress.

The air seemed to grow colder as you walked to the battlefield, the silk robe Momo had tailored for you brushing against your skin with every step. The snow beneath your feet was pristine now, smooth and unmarred by the chaos of earlier battles. You had taken care to clear the clouds overhead, leaving a serene blue sky in their place. Only Momo and Jirou’s icy igloo castle remained standing, its frosty walls gleaming like a beacon of past victories.

Momo sipped her hot chocolate leisurely, watching you with a quiet smile of encouragement as you excused yourself from the huddle and walked toward the battle lines. Katsuki’s whistle broke the quiet, sharp and appreciative, and then he smirked, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

"Fair empress, thou art so radiant that thy very presence doth make this battle folly. I pray thee, surrender now, and let me claim you as my prize.”

You turned to face him with a raised brow, your expression the perfect balance of disdain and amusement.

“Thyn words are wasted, husband, for no empress would yield to the likes of thee.” Your voice carried the commanding tone of royalty, each syllable precise and biting.

Katsuki chuckled darkly, shaking his head in amusement. His crimson eyes never left you as he leaned against the hilt of his snow-covered “blade”. Upon closer inspection, it seemed to be the spear Shoto dropped when he was blasted.

Shoji drew a new line in the snow, and Iida stood between you both like a proper officiant, clipboard in hand. “Are you both ready to begin?” Iida asked, his usual formality unwavering despite the growing tension. You tilted your head, your gaze locking onto Katsuki’s.

Something felt... off.

His posture was confident, his smirk as cocky as ever, but his eyes—they betrayed him. They always did. Katsuki could lie to the entire world, but not to you. Never you. The faint flicker of vulnerability was there, hidden behind his usual bravado. You frowned as he broke eye contact, addressing Iida and the rest of your friends instead.

“In truth, I doth understand thy devotion to her grace,” Katsuki said, his voice deep and steady as he slipped fully into the role. He gestured toward you dramatically, his grin sharp.

“Thy sweet, dear little Empress hath ensnared you all with her charms, as she hath me. I’ll not hold it against thee—nay, if thou dost beg now for my forgiveness, I’ll make thyn executions swift and merciful.”

The group erupted in protest.

Denki was the first to shout, “We will never follow you, demon king!” But the moment Katsuki’s growl rumbled out, Denki vanished behind Mina and Sero with a yelp. Shoto rose from where he had been resting beside Izuku, his mismatched eyes blazing with defiance.

“We will never bow to you, Katsuki,” he declared, his voice cold as the snow beneath him.

Izuku stepped forward as well, his usual stammer gone. “Our loyalty lies with her grace, the heavenly Snow Empress of the High Court.”

Hitoshi smirked, crossing his arms. “Mother of Snowflakes, Maker of Blizzards, Survivor of the Grotesque Demon King. That’s who we follow.”

You blinked, confusion flickering across your face at the growing list of titles. “Hey!” you shouted at Hitoshi, your glare directed at him for the jab. He simply shrugged, unbothered.

Katsuki, however, took it all in stride. His gaze darkened as he looked at the group, his smirk vanishing into something far more dangerous.

That murderous glint in his eye promised retribution for their insults.

Before the tension could fully settle, you bent down and grabbed a handful of snow. With a quick flick of your wrist, you sent it flying at Hitoshi, catching him square in the nose and sending him sprawling into the snow. “Watch thy tongue, knave,” you said, unable to hold back the grin tugging at your lips.

Iida cleared his throat loudly, trying to regain control. “As I was saying—the rules for the final match—”

Katsuki raised a hand, cutting him off. “I’ve got a request,” he said. His voice was sharp but calm, drawing everyone’s attention.

You tilted your head, curious and slightly wary. “Speak, consort,” you said with a flick of your hand.

Katsuki smirked, but there was steel behind it. “Whoever wins this final match wins overall,” he said.

“Forget the first two matches—this one decides everythin’.”

The group collectively gasped.

Your eyes widened in disbelief, and you turned to him fully, your silk robe swaying with the motion.

“Stop thy jesting,” you said, your tone sharp but tinged with concern.

“’m not the jester, dearest” he replied, his voice low and serious. He cast a pointed look at Denki and Sero, who immediately looked like they wanted to melt into the snow.

“Please, my lady, no!” Toru’s voice rang out, pleading and full of panic.

The others quickly joined in, their voices overlapping as they begged you to refuse. Even Iida and Shoji looked uneasy, though neither spoke against Katsuki directly.

Iida stepped forward hesitantly. “You already have one loss under your belt, my lady. There is no need to risk it all. The final match would have required a duel regardless—”

You tune him out, your mind swirling. You weren’t thinking of strategy, of the group’s loyalty or morale. This wasn’t about the game anymore. You looked at Katsuki, really looked at him. The vulnerability you had seen earlier was still there, faint but undeniable. It wasn’t just about winning for him—this was personal.

After a long pause, you nodded. Decision made.

“I will accept his highness’s petition,” you said, your voice steady. “But only on one condition.”

Katsuki steps closer, his boots crunching in the freshly smoothed snow, his sharp crimson eyes narrowing as he studies you. The rest of the “kingdom” leans in, their collective breaths held as you clear your throat and raise your arms with an air of finality.

“If I am to accept thy terms,” you begin, your voice echoing across the snowy battlefield, “Thou must spare all my people. Thou art to show them nothing but love, compassion, and genuine kindness for the rest of thy days. Shouldst thou falter, I shall take thy life in the dead of night and rule the kingdom myself.”

The entire arena erupts in gasps, the bleachers breaking into a cacophony of cries. Shoji practically stumbles forward, his usual composure gone.

“My lady, dost thou know the gravity of thy words?!”

Shoto’s voice rises in desperation, icy and steady despite the panic in his eyes. “My empress, no! You cannot!” Even Tsu clutches her hot chocolate so tightly that it nearly spills, her eyes wide with disbelief. Koda squeaks so loud it scars off a family of squirrels. Izuku drops his head, murmuring prayers under his breath, his hands clasped tightly.

“Silence!” you snap, your voice cutting through the chaos with regal authority.

“My word is final.”

Katsuki’s smirk falters slightly, his brow furrowing as he watches you. You can see the wheels turning in his head, his cocky demeanor giving way to a rare moment of genuine thoughtfulness. For a long moment, he puzzles over your words, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. Finally, he speaks, his voice low and rasping.

“You would trade your freedom for these simple fools?”

You don’t hesitate. You step closer to him, your silk robe sweeping behind you as you close the gap between you. Tilting your chin up, you meet his sharp gaze with a terrifying calm.

“I would give my life for theirs any day,” you spit, your voice venomous and unyielding.

For a moment, you consider spitting on the ground at his feet for emphasis, but you stop yourself, sensing something deeper beneath Katsuki’s cold exterior.

He stares at you, his expression unreadable, the sharpness in his features almost unbearable to look at up close. His spiky blond hair catches the sunlight, soft despite the chaos it mirrors, and his vermillion eyes are a storm of emotions—anger, admiration, and something else he’ll never admit out loud. His scarred cheek and strong jawline add to the kingly aura he exudes, a mixture of untamed power and raw, undeniable charisma.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a pang of… something as you took him in. He is your husband after all! The dangerous smile tugging at his lips, the high cheekbones and soft dimples that only you knew how to find, the sharp canine teeth that gleamed whenever he smirked. Even his hard, lean frame in that winter hero uniform screamed dominance and control.

He really does look like a king.

Too bad about the attitude, though.

Katsuki smiles at last, slow and deliberate, as if savoring your defiance. He nods in acceptance, his voice dripping with amusement.

“As you wish, my Empress.”

Behind you, the bleachers devolve into chaos.

“NO!” Denki wails dramatically before fainting into Mina’s arms. She barely has time to hold him up before Ojirou and Kida rush in to keep them both from toppling over.

“Whip his ass!” Ochako shouts, her voice filled with determination, though her expression is one of sheer panic. “Fight Queenie! Show him what it means to defy the Snow Empress!” Kirishima yells, his large fists shaking in the air.

You keep your head held high, unmoved by their cries, your focus entirely on Katsuki. His confidence radiates off him like heat, and as much as you hate to admit it, it’s a little intoxicating.

“Thy pride shall be thy undoing,” you say with finality, stepping back to your side of the field.

“Make thy peace, lovely woman,” Katsuki replies, his voice carrying a dark promise.

“I shall not go easy on thee.”

As Shoji raises his hand to mark the start of the match, you stand tall, refusing to let him see the effect his presence has on you. You’re ready. For your people, for your pride, for the thrill of reminding him just who he’s dealing with.

“Duel!”

With a flourish of energy as you leap back, landing gracefully in the snow, your silk robe catching the light as it fans out behind you. Katsuki shifts into a firm fighting stance, his sharp eyes locking onto you like a predator sizing up its prey. His smirk grows wider, and you can practically feel his ego radiating off him.

Before either of you can make a move, Shoji raises his hands and declares, “No quirks may be used in the first few minutes. Only bare strength and wit!”

A collective groan erupts from the bleachers.

“Come on, Shoji!” Denki shouts, arms flailing. “What’s the point if we can’t see some explosions or ice blasts?”

“Yeah, we’re here for the chaos!” Mina adds, stomping her feet.

Shoji crosses all four of his arms and shakes his head. “No. I don’t want to see anyone else getting hurt. This rule stands.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, suppressing a smirk as Katsuki’s confident expression briefly falters. He tongues the inside of his cheek in frustration before throwing a scowl toward Shoji.

“That is stupid!” Katsuki snarls. “If I can’t use my quirk, what’s the point?”

Iida steps in, adjusting his glasses with an air of finality. “If you are dissatisfied with the rules, you are welcome to forfeit, King Bakugo.”

Katsuki growls, his eyes narrowing into slits as the veins in his neck bulge.

“Like hell I’ll forfeit.”

You take advantage of the distraction, darting to a pre-prepared stash of snowballs you’d hidden behind Momo and Jirou’s old igloo. Shoji’s rule was perfect for your plan. You grab snowballs packed with pinecones, leaves, sticks, and whatever debris you could find earlier, a devious smile playing on your lips.

Katsuki turns back just as your first volley of snowballs comes flying.

“What the hell?!” he shouts, dodging the first two but getting nailed in the chest by the third. He looks down at the mess of snow and pine needles on his uniform and growls. “You think you’re clever, huh?”

You tilt your head and smirk. “I don’t think. I know.~”

Katsuki scoffs, grabbing handfuls of snow to form his own ammunition.

“You’re toast, Empress.”

You both make a mad dash to some of Momo’s abandoned snowball machines, the sleek contraption already primed and waiting for a fight. Katsuki immediately starts shoveling snow into the top, his movements aggressive and efficient, while you mirror him on the other side.

“I’ll beseech you points for cunning,” Katsuki grumbles as he works.

“Save your compliments, consort,” you retort, setting your machine to full blast. “You shall require them for your surrender speech.”

The machine whirs to life, snowballs firing out with rapid precision. The battlefield transforms into a chaotic war zone as snowballs fly in every direction, scattering snow and debris across the once-pristine field.

“Thou art no match for my brilliance!” Katsuki taunts in his overly dramatic Shakespearean, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he loads more snow.

��Thy words are as empty as thyn head!” you snap back in your own exaggerated dialect, tossing a particularly well-packed snowball his way. It hits his chin, and the crowd erupts in laughter and cheers.

“Oooooooh!” Denki howls. “Burn!”

“Did you hear that? She’s ruthless!” Mina shouts, clutching Kirishima’s arm as they watch in awe.

You throw a smug look over your shoulder at the crowd, your hands never pausing in their work.

“I thank thee, my loyal subjects. Thy support warms mine icy heart.”

“Focus, woman!” Katsuki shouts, catching you off guard as a snowball hits you square in the buttcheek.

“Hey!” you protest, brushing snow off your robe. “Thou art supposed to respect thy Empress!”

“Respect this!” he snaps, launching three snowballs in quick succession.

Katsuki doesn't notice as you subtly switch to the snowballs with shards of ice embedded within. While he’s busy loading his snowball machine, you line up your aim, every muscle in your body taut with anticipation. You throw with precision, and the snowball smacks him square in the face, exploding in a satisfying burst of icy snow.

The crowd gasps.

Katsuki freezes, his head tilting slightly as he wipes at his face. For a moment, you panic.

"Hey, are you okay—"

“Don’t,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. He looks up, a sinister smirk spreading across his face.

Before you can react, Katsuki barrels forward, closing the gap between you with shocking speed. The crowd erupts into chaos as he grabs you around the waist, hoisting you effortlessly into the air.

“Katsuki!” you shriek, flailing your arms as he pins you close.

“Ya wanna play dirty?” he snarls, his voice dripping with amusement as he shoves a handful of snow down the back of your uniform. The icy shock hits your spine, and you let out an ear-piercing squeal.

"KATSUKI, YOU ABSOLUTE MONSTER!"

Your reflexes kick in, and you kick him square in the stomach with enough force to send him flying back a few meters. He lands in the snow, skidding just before reaching the edge of the battlefield.

“I-I almost declared you out of bounds!” Iida calls out, his hand raised in warning.

Katsuki just snarls, shaking the snow from his hair before sprinting back to the center. But you’ve already retreated to the edge of the battlefield, where your friends are crowded around, watching the scene unfold.

“Oi, little Empress!” Katsuki calls out, his voice teasing and mocking as he points a finger at you. “Had enough yet? Ready to forfeit and admit I’m the true ruler?”

You smirk, sticking your tongue out at him and blowing a loud raspberry.

“Not in a thousand years, Your Majesty.”

Then you turn to Shoto, who stands near the edge with a curious expression. “Sho, come here for a second,” you call sweetly. Shoto tilts his head but obliges, walking over without hesitation. You lean close and whisper something in his ear, and his eyes widen slightly before narrowing in understanding.

Without another word, you begin to strip.

And the crowd collectively loses their minds.

“W-What is she doing?!” Tokoyami yelps, his face turning bright red as he averts his gaze.

“Damn, girl!” Mina cheers, clapping her hands.

Shoto quickly creates a sheet of ice to block the view of your more modest friends, while you stand confidently in nothing but your all-purpose sports bra and boy shorts. Momo rushes over, holding the silk robe she’d made you as a shield for privacy.

“Is this really necessary?” she whispers, her face flushed as she averts her gaze.

“Trust me,” you say, giving her a wink.

Even Shinsou, typically unimpressed by theatrics, lets out a low whistle of appreciation. “Well, that’s one way to make a statement.”

Shoto, ever the protective sibling, freezes Shinsou’s face and Katsuki’s feet in place for a few moments, just long enough to give you a head start. You blow him a quick kiss as thanks before sprinting back to the battlefield at full speed.

“WHAT IS SHE DOING?!” Sato shouts, his voice tinged with panic. Boy so scared that he dropped his croissants. “She’s going to freeze out there!” Aoyama adds, clutching his face in horror. Iida shakes his head. “The rules are the rules. I cannot intervene!” Meanwhile, Ochako and Tsu are chanting loudly,

“GET HIS ASS! GET HIS ASS!”

Momo, Jirou, and Koda standing off to the side, are clasping their hands together in silent prayer. “Please let this plan work,” Jirou whispers, her eyes wide with worry. Katsuki finally breaks free of the ice binding his feet, his sharp gaze locking onto you as you charge toward him. His expression is a mix of confusion, irritation, and—if you squint hard enough—just the faintest trace of admiration.

“She’s officially lost it,” he mutters under his breath as you close the distance.

But you don’t care.

You’re all in now, and Katsuki Bakugou is about to find out exactly why you’re the reigning snowball champion. Shoji clears his throat and raises his voice, signaling the resumption of the fight.

“Combatants! The match shall continue! Hand-to-hand combat is now permitted!”

The crowd erupts into cheers, and you stride confidently back toward Katsuki, your breath misting in the frigid air. Snow crunches beneath your bare feet, and you notice Katsuki watching you with a peculiar intensity.

“Giving up on snowballs, little empress?” he taunts, his smirk as sharp as the cold wind. “What’s the plan now? Slap me to death?” You roll your eyes, closing the distance between you. “Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you, consort?” you fire back, the word dripping with disdain.

The second you’re close enough, you lunge, aiming a swift jab toward his ribs. Katsuki dodges with ease, his movements quick and fluid, and counters with a block that sends a shiver up your arm.

“Hand-to-hand, right?” he mutters, his grin widening. “Finally, somethin’ fun.”

You grit your teeth, throwing a quick combination of punches and kicks. Katsuki meets every move with a calculated deflection, his hand grazing your wrist as he pushes your arm aside. His eyes glint with something unreadable as his gaze locks onto yours, his smirk fading slightly.

You don’t notice at first, but Katsuki does—how the falling snow catches in your hair, shimmering like tiny crystals. Water droplets bead on your skin, snowflakes make a home along your arms and cheeks, making you look as if you’ve been carved out of ice and fire.

His chest tightens, and for a brief moment, the fight fades into the background.

Katsuki inhales deeply, his voice soft and thoughtful as he mutters in his sharp, ancient tongue,

“Mine Empress fair, thou look like you were made to be held... pressed against me, your head resting against my heart... my hand running through those locks of yours… my beautiful maiden.”

The way he says it, low and intimate, makes your breath hitch despite yourself. You blink up at him, stunned for just a moment before snapping back to reality.

“You think flattery will spare you, consort?” you sneer, your tone sharp. “You’ve terrorized good innocent people for too long. For that, you will be punished.”

Katsuki leans closer, his grin growing devilish. His voice drops to a teasing whisper, his warm lips brushing against your ear.

“And what cruel punishment could a good, heavenly Empress like you give to me?”

You smirk, your tone laced with mischief. “Wouldn’t you love to find out?” you whisper back, your lips barely moving. Before Katsuki can react, you pivot sharply, twisting out of his grasp. His hand snaps out instinctively, but instead of grabbing you, all he catches is your cherry red robe.

And then you’re gone.

The entire crowd falls silent, stunned. Katsuki stands there, holding the robe, his head darting left and right as he searches for you. The tension is palpable, the air electric with suspense.

“Where did she go?” Ochako whispers, her eyes wide.

“Is this allowed?” Aoyama asks dramatically, clutching his chest.

“I… I don’t know!” Iida stammers, adjusting his glasses as he frantically flips through the makeshift rulebook Momo made for the snowball fight. Katsuki’s jaw tightens, his crimson eyes scanning the snowy battlefield. He clutches the robe tightly in his fist, his teeth gritted in frustration.

“Where the hell are you, princess?”

The crowd begins murmuring, the students on the edge of their seats as they wait for your next move. Katsuki, however, stays frozen in place, his expression shifting ever so slightly. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze—annoyance, yes, but also amusement. Maybe even admiration.

Because as much as it drives him insane… he can’t help but respect the hell out of your strategy.

“Over here!~”

The teasing lilt in your voice draws Katsuki’s attention, and he spins around just in time to be met with—WHAM—a fist full of snow straight to the face.

The crowd collectively gasps, then bursts into laughter and cheers. “She got him!” Kirishima exclaims, doubling over with a hand on his stomach. Toru claps her hands together, barely holding herself up against Ojiro, who’s in tears from laughing too hard.

Katsuki stumbles back, snow dripping from his face as his sharp, vermillion eyes blaze with fury. “Oi, you little shit!” he roars, wiping his face as he surveys the battlefield for you.

But you’re gone.

“WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GO?!” His voice echoes across the snow-covered grounds as he prowls, his breath coming out in visible puffs against the freezing air.

Unbeknownst to him, you’ve already begun your plan. While the snowfall earlier had seemed like a clever defensive trick, it was all part of a bigger setup. Every flurry you summoned, every foot of snow that blanketed the field—it was a battlefield crafted just for you.

The Bakugou household might have been a force of raw fire and explosive might, but your family? You were the master of snow and ice, the complete opposite of Touya’s raging flames. Where he burned, you moved with coldness. And now, you were ready to pull your ultimate move—one inspired by none other than Kakashi-sensei himself.

“Looking for me, husband~?” you call out from another direction, but this time Katsuki doesn’t turn around. He stays rooted, glancing sharply from side to side.

“’m not falling for that shit again!” he growls, squaring his shoulders and keeping his guard up.

That’s when you strike.

You burst up from beneath a snowbank behind him, a chunk of leftover ice from Shoto’s earlier handiwork in your hands. With a grunt, you hurl it directly at him, landing a satisfying CRACK against his sexy back.

“GAH—!” Katsuki stumbles forward, spinning around just in time to see you dive back into the snow, vanishing once more like a winter ghost.

The bleachers erupt in chaos. “SHE’S A GENIUS!” Denki howls, nearly toppling over.

“She’s insane!” Momo gasps, clutching her chest, though the admiration in her voice is clear.

“She planned this from the beginning,” Shinsou mutters with a sly grin, his eyes glued to the battlefield.

“I wouldn’t want to fight her in a blizzard,” Kirishima laughs nervously, scratching the back of his head.

Katsuki growls under his breath, his frustration mounting as he stalks the field, searching for any sign of you. But the snow is your playground, and he’s a visitor in your domain. You pop up again, this time pelting him with smaller chunks of snow and ice. Katsuki raises an arm to shield himself, barking curses as he tries to locate your next hiding spot.

“Stand still, damn it!”

“Why would I do that?” you tease, your voice echoing from every direction as you continue to throw. “You’re not fast enough to catch me, consort.”

Katsuki’s patience snaps. He’s really fucking tired of that title. “Alright, that’s it—NO MORE GAMES!” He slams his fist into the ground, the force of the impact sending snow flying in every direction.

But it’s too late. The battlefield is yours, and Katsuki’s steps grow heavier with every move he makes, his frustration boiling over as he tries—and fails—to anticipate your next strike.

You grin, your breath visible as you whisper to yourself, “This is gonna be good.”

Katsuki turns just in time to see you leap out of the snow, charging toward him with a chunk of ice in hand.

And this time, you’re aiming straight for the crown.

Iida’s voice rings out over the snowy battlefield, his words clear and commanding,

“Both combatants are now permitted to use their quirks!”

The crowd erupts into a mix of cheers and gasps, and you immediately dive back under the snow, disappearing before Katsuki can even react.

“Cowardice!” Katsuki bellows, his palms sparking with fiery explosions. The heat from his blasts instantly begins melting the snow around him, leaving patches of wet, slushy ground in his wake. “You think you can just keep hiding from me?!”

You know better, though. It doesn’t matter how much snow he melts—it’s still freezing. The moisture left behind immediately starts to refreeze, creating an icy battlefield that plays right into your hands. As Katsuki stomps around, you begin tunneling through the snow, heading toward the old “castle” structure that had been built earlier.

You’re focused on your path, moving swiftly and efficiently, but then you hear him—his voice is lower now, quieter, almost… teasing.

“Y’know, you can’t run forever, Empress,” Katsuki calls out, his tone dripping with a strange mix of irritation and amusement.

You pause, just for a moment, your ears perking up.

“Where’d all that big talk go, huh?” he continues, pacing the battlefield with slow, deliberate steps.

“What happened to ‘punishing me,’ hah? You gonna stay under there forever like some scared little rabbit?”

Your lips twitch into a smirk, but you stay silent, continuing to carve your icy path.

Katsuki’s voice grows softer, almost a purr now, and the change sends a strange thrill down your spine.

“C’mon, Princess. Don’t tell me you’re too shy to come out and play with me.”

‘Oh, he’s trying to bait me now.’

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small laugh that escapes your lips. Unfortunately, the sound echoes through the snow tunnel, and you freeze, cursing under your breath.

“Oh? Did I hear a laugh?” Katsuki’s voice is sharper now, and you can practically hear the smirk on his face.

“You think this is funny, huh? You gonna giggle when I drag your little ass outta there?”

You bite your lip, your heart racing as you tunnel faster. The “castle” is just up ahead, and you’re almost there when you hear him again, closer this time.

“You’re lucky I think you’re cute, or I’d already have blown your little snow fort to pieces,” he says casually, like it’s just another fact of life.

You stop dead in your tracks, your eyes widening as heat rises to your cheeks. Did he just—

“Yeah, you heard me,” Katsuki says, his tone smug. “What? You thought I didn’t notice? You’re out here all icy and badass, but you think I don’t see how pretty you look with snow in your hair?”

You groan softly, covering your face with one hand as you try to collect yourself.

‘Focus, focus! Don’t let him get in your head!’

You erupt from the snow with the precision of a predator, smashing a massive chunk of ice into Katsuki’s chest. The impact sends him sprawling onto the ground, a startled growl escaping his lips. The crowd gasps as you waste no time dashing toward the igloo-like structure that had been built earlier.

The moment you slip inside, the world grows quieter.

The walls of the makeshift igloo muffle the shouts of your friends outside, leaving you surrounded by a tense, eerie silence. It’s surprisingly spacious inside, though the scattered playground equipment—jungle gyms, swings, and slides—creates a chaotic maze of obstacles.

You dart through the labyrinth, your breath visible in the frigid air as you scramble to find a good hiding spot. Finally, you spot a large tube at the far end of the igloo and slide inside, pressing your body against the cold plastic. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as you try to steady your breathing, willing yourself to stay calm. You can hear him now. Katsuki’s boots crunch against the frozen ground as he steps inside the igloo, his movements slow and deliberate. He’s not rushing—he doesn’t need to.

You’re trapped in here with him, and he knows it.

“Empress,~” he calls out, his voice low and smooth, laced with that dangerous, teasing edge. He switches to the old tongue, the words rolling off his tongue like silk. “Ya cornered yourself. What now, hmm?”

You press your lips together, holding your breath as his voice echoes through the space. The way he says your title, the way he draws it out—it’s almost hypnotic, and you hate how easily it gets under your skin.

“Running away again? Not very queenly of you,” Katsuki taunts, his footsteps crunching closer. “

Yer making this too easy. You know I’m gonna find you, right? There’s nowhere to hide.”

His tone grows sweeter, more dangerous, and you can practically feel the smirk on his face.

“Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll make sure to keep you warm once I catch you. Wouldn’t want you freezing to death before I can claim my prize.”

You clench your fists, trying to ignore the way his words send a shiver down your spine. ‘Focus,’ you tell yourself. ‘He’s just trying to mess with you. Don’t let him get in your head.’

The sound of his boots grows louder, closer. He’s circling now, like a predator stalking its prey, and your heart pounds in your chest.

“You know,” he muses, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “I like this game. Just you and me, no audience, no rules.” He pauses, and you hear him chuckle softly. “I wonder how long you can keep hiding before you slip up. Or maybe…”

“You want me to catch you?”

You grit your teeth, the heat rising to your cheeks as his words sink in. The nerve of him—assuming you’d want to lose this on purpose! You shake your head, determined to prove him wrong.

The tube feels colder against your back as you lie completely still, hoping the darkness hides you well enough. He’ll have to crawl through a maze of equipment to get to you, and with his broad shoulders and sheer size, it’ll slow him down. At least, that’s what you’re banking on.

“C’mon, Empress,” Katsuki calls out again, his voice closer now. “You can’t hide forever. Make it easy on yourself and come out.”

The sound of his boots stops suddenly, and the silence is deafening. You hold your breath, straining to listen for any sign of movement. Then, softly, he speaks again, his tone dripping with mockery and amusement.

“What’s the matter? Afraid of what’ll happen when I catch you?”

You can’t help but smirk despite yourself. ‘Afraid?’ Not a chance. If anything, he should be afraid of what you’ve got planned next.

You’re lying in the tube, heart pounding in your chest as you wait. You had calculated every possible move he might make. The bottom. Of course, he’d come from the bottom. But the plan falters spectacularly when a pair of strong, warm hands grab you—from above.

“Gotcha, Empress!”

@willnetries, I passed out like 12 times but your food is ready! <33

Part 2 is right here

This was my first time trying to write the whole of class 1a into a fic and I need to lay down.

I DON'T OWN THE IMAGES!!!!

My requests are free and open.

Taglist from both of my master lists because I need to feed the cats: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @raendarkfaerie, @bunny-b34r, icey-wonders, @adherethecomingofage, @karaartioli-blog, @meoweoeoeosme, @faithisxreading, @faithisidking, @oh-kayyy-stan-bts, @shortie-chocolate, @rosaline756. @sweetlike-sugarplum. @aespie, @dancingqueen276, @erensbbg, @lillizxzz,

Master lists in question: Katsuki's Sugar baby, Katsuki's Ex who secretly had his baby

My master list is a work in progress but there's plenty more Katsuki, Aizawa, and other characters if you request them. Ao3 is sexy too.

You can also tip me a coffee if you want. (Just made it, so excited! \(≧▽≦)/ <33)

Remember: Comments and likes, they really help. Don't be afraid to leave me a sexy little reblog too.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ -Angie

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