#i just really love their skin tones in this video and it just can't be appreciated in bw | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thebunnednun · 3 months ago

Text

LOYALTY [Chapter 4]

Katsuki Bakugou x Sugar Baby! Reader

Summary: Fuck a breakup, you ever have your fiance and partner of 8 years dump you during his promotion party in front of your bosses and the whole office with the girl he told you, “Don’t worry about,” on his arm?

The man you moved continents to support and move in with while you worked from home and helped promote his hero career because you thought he loved you and he called it an investment in your future together while you just did it out of love?

Welp, now he’s kicked you out in a strange land and you’ve gotta make it on your own. When you can't get a new job or apartment and tuition is almost due: you’ve got two options: Strip it or lose.

And I guess the angry blond that keeps coming back to your club wants to help you too.

Summary:

Bakugou can't sleep and you're gonna help him. Too bad your ex is trying to get you tho.

Tonight's song: Put your head on my shoulder by Paul Anka

--------------------------Chapter 5: Sleepless--------------------------

Katsuki Bakugou sat slouched at his desk, his eyes half-lidded as he struggled to stay awake. He’d barely gotten any sleep last night, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite shake. It was unlike him to be this distracted—he was always the first one in the office, ready to tackle whatever the day threw at him. But today was different.

Kirishima strolled into the office, his usual grin plastered on his face. He could tell something was off with Bakugou the moment he saw him, and he couldn’t resist poking fun at his best friend.

“Yo, Bakubro! What happened? Did you go to bed at 8:31 instead of 8:30 like usual?” Kirishima teased, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Bakugou’s crimson eyes narrowed, the familiar fire flickering back to life despite his exhaustion. Without a word, he raised his hand and sent a small explosion towards Kirishima’s face. The redhead reacted instantly, hardening his skin to absorb the blast without a scratch, the force of it blowing his hair back slightly. He grinned even wider, unfazed by the attack.

“Not in the mood, shitty hair,” Bakugou grumbled, reaching for a bottle of water on his desk and guzzling it down in one go. The cool liquid did little to wake him up, but it was better than nothing.

Kirishima chuckled, sliding a cup of coffee across the desk towards his friend. “Relax, man. You look like you didn’t sleep at all. Maybe we could get you some sleep aids through the company. Or, y’know, you could try those ASMR videos of people cooking. That seems right up your alley.”

Bakugou shot him another glare, but it lacked its usual intensity. He knew Kirishima was just trying to help in his own way, but it only irritated him more. It wasn’t like he could explain what was really bothering him. How was he supposed to tell his best friend that he couldn’t stop thinking about a girl he saw at a club? A girl that he subscribed to and she didn’t even need to get naked. A girl that made him feel alive and seen last night. A girl who returned both his phone and wallet when he forgot them while his head was still reeling from the little heart she left on the glass for him and didn’t touch anything in or on them. This wasn’t him. He didn’t get hung up on shit like that.

With a heavy sigh, Bakugou slumped back in his chair, letting his eyes drift shut for a moment. “I don’t need that shit. M’fine,” he muttered, though the weariness in his voice betrayed him.

Kirishima softened his gaze, recognizing the weight behind Bakugou’s words. He knew his friend better than anyone, knew when to push and when to back off. This was one of those times where Bakugou needed space, even if he wouldn’t admit it. But that didn’t mean Kirishima wasn’t going to keep an eye on him.

“Alright, man. But if you need to talk, you know I’m here,” Kirishima offered, his tone light, but sincere.

Bakugou grunted in response, still half-asleep but grateful in his own way for the gesture. He leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to shake off the lingering thoughts from last night. But no matter how hard he tried, your face, your voice, your touch against the glass—it all kept playing in his mind like a broken record.

Kirishima watched his friend, concern creeping into his features. He wasn’t used to seeing Bakugou like this, so lost in his own head. It wasn’t normal, and that worried him more than anything.

“Seriously, though. You look like crap, Bakugou. Maybe take a break today? I can handle things for a bit.”

Bakugou’s eyes snapped open, a fierce scowl forming on his face as he sat up straight. “Don’t tell me what to do, shitty hair,” he snapped, the fire back in his voice. But there was something different in the way he said it, a tinge of frustration that wasn’t usually there.

Kirishima raised his hands in mock surrender, a playful grin on his face. “Alright, alright. Just take care of yourself, okay?”

Bakugou didn’t respond, his mind already wandering back to you. He hated how much space you were taking up in his thoughts, but the more he tried to push it away, the more it clung to him. What was it about you that had gotten under his skin so easily?

As the morning dragged on, Bakugou couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew one thing for certain—he needed to see you again. And that thought, more than anything, kept him on edge.

---

The apartment was more than you could’ve hoped for. Spacious, clean, and blessedly affordable, it was the perfect place to start the next chapter of your life. The rent, at $750 a month, was a miracle in a city where finding decent housing was like winning the lottery. And the best part? You were only ten minutes away from Mr. Muhammad and Mrs. Yukiji’s apartment, which meant you could still babysit and tutor their kids—something you’d grown to love doing.

Michael had been relentless in pushing you to snag the place the moment it became available. You hadn’t been as eager at first, especially when you found out it was the apartment next to hers, but Michael, with her boundless energy and persuasive charm, had made it impossible to say no. It didn’t hurt that she was in the same major as you, and you’d grown close during your time together at school.

She was more than just a friend; she was your confidante, the big sister you never had.

The other girls from the club had turned out to be in a similar boat. Students, just like you, all trying to make ends meet while juggling classes and work. When the campus housing became too expensive, even with grants and scholarships, they’d banded together, pooling their resources and looking out for each other like a little family. Michael, ever the leader, had welcomed you into the fold without hesitation. Despite your initial shyness and ironic dislike for physical touch, they adored you. You were their baby, the one they all wanted to protect.

Ruby—or Megumi, as you knew her outside the club—had even offered to help you get back at your ex by having her boyfriend smash his car. The image of sweet, petite Ruby taking a bat to a car was enough to make you laugh, though you quickly turned down the offer, not wanting her boyfriend to get another strike on his record.

Then there was the matter of your safety. Your day job was getting strange, with less projects being sent your way, so you’d confided in Michael about the security tape and microchip you’d taken. Without missing a beat, she’d helped you make copies and store them in a safe, just in case. Two copies were hidden in the Muhammads’ apartment, tucked away where no one would think to look.

Today, the Muhammads were helping you sign the lease for your new apartment. Mr. Muhammad, a kind, soft-spoken man in his early 50s, was a history professor at the local university. His wife, Mrs. Muhammad, was a petite Japanese woman with a serene smile and a talent for making you feel instantly at ease. Their oldest daughter, Amira, was in high school, a bright and driven teenager who reminded you a lot of yourself at that age. Their young son, Kaito, was a bundle of energy, always asking questions and eager to learn about the world around him.

When you introduced Michael as a friend from work, the Muhammads took to her immediately. She joked about you being a good girlfriend, which totally went over their heads, but you threw her a look anyway as she giggled. Michael knew how much the Muhammads meant to you, and she was careful to keep things light and respectful, even if she couldn’t resist teasing you a bit.

As you walked through the apartment, you marveled at how everything had fallen into place. The white walls were pristine, the oak hardwood floors gleamed in the afternoon light, and the kitchen was small but functional—a perfect fit for someone who wasn’t exactly a master chef. (C0ugh *you* cOuGh) The two bedrooms were cozy, with plenty of closet space, and the living room had a large window that overlooked a quiet, tree-lined street.

The extra furniture, courtesy of your generous subscribers, was a bit harder to explain. You and Michael had frantically hidden it inside her apartment until you could put it all together later. The night before you and her skipped work to take the train to your job’s building. Why? Because you weren’t gonna tell the sweet old couple where the furniture came from.

Micheal was surprised that your old car, affectionately called "the lemon," was still running after you recovered it from your day job's parking lot. You playfully told her to hush, not wanting to jinx it. The two of you piled in and raced home to perform a “reverse breakin” knowing that the building’s tenants would be up soon and you really didn’t wanna catch your ex before his morning run.

You didn’t even care that it was a very empty apartment. You had freedom that no one could take away from you. You were living by yourself for the first time ever and that was a big deal.

The place was a blank canvas, waiting for your own personal touch.

Once the lease was signed and the keys were handed over, you all pitched in to move your actual things. It went surprisingly smoothly, considering your limited resources. Michael made sure to lighten the mood with her usual jokes, and even Mr. Muhammad cracked a smile as he helped carry in a particularly heavy box. By the time you were done, the apartment was filled with the sounds of laughter and the comforting buzz of a new home being settled into.

That evening, you decided to thank the Muhammads by cooking dinner for them. It was a modest attempt—nothing fancy, just a simple stir-fry and some rice—but you wanted to show your appreciation. The stir-fry had been a bit more adventurous than you’d planned, and you’d accidentally set off the alarms with some overzealous seasoning. As you bustled around the kitchen, you could hear the family joking in the living room about how it was good you were testing out the smoke alarms.

So take out it was!

Sitting down to dinner with them felt like a small piece of normalcy in your otherwise chaotic life. They were your family now, and as you shared a meal together, you felt a sense of warmth and belonging that had been missing for a long time. The Muhammads�� daughter, Amira, asked you about your classes and asked if you would come to her volleyball tournament. Kaito, their son, was more interested in showing you his latest LEGO creation, proudly displaying it on the dining table as you all ate.

Mrs. Yukiji complimented you on the meal, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she assured you the smoke alarm incident was just part of the learning process. Mr. Muhammad, ever the gentle old guy, simply smiled and nodded, grateful for the effort you’d put in.

As the evening wound down and you walked them to the door, you felt a swell of gratitude for the way they’d welcomed you into their lives. It wasn’t just about signing the lease or moving into a new apartment; it was about building a support system, about knowing you weren’t alone in the world. You had Michael and the girls, the Muhammads, and even your new subscribers, all playing a part in helping you find your footing again.

‘I should do another show soon.’

And as you stood in your new apartment, the sounds of the city filtering in through the window, you felt something you hadn’t in a long time: hope.

While you wash the dishes, Mrs. Yukiji approaches you quietly, her usual warm smile replaced with a concerned expression. She gently taps your shoulder, drawing you away from the sink.

“Sweetheart,” she begins, her voice soft but serious, “I need to talk to you about something.” She reaches into her apron pocket and pulls out a small, yellow package. “This arrived for you, but… it’s from him.”

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of his name, and you can feel your breath catch in your throat. Kyoya—the one person you’ve been trying so hard to avoid, the reason you’d gone through all this trouble to stay off the grid.

Mrs. Yukiji sighs, her eyes filled with motherly concern. “I didn’t mean to snoop, but I’ve been trying to get all your mail redirected to your new place. When I saw this, I thought it was best to let you know right away.” She gently places the package in your hand.

“He’s been asking about you,” she continues, her brow furrowing slightly. “Living with us might have helped you stay hidden, but… you should be careful, my dear. You never know with men like that.”

You feel a rush of mixed emotions—fear, anxiety, but also a sense of safety standing here with her.

“I don’t know what’s in that package, but…” Mrs. Yukiji’s voice softens further as she reaches up to kiss your temple, her short stature requiring her to stretch a bit. “Maybe you should open it at the police station, just in case it’s something… unpleasant. We’re here for you, remember that.”

Her words, though unsettling, carry the warmth and love that only someone who truly cares about you could offer.

Mrs. Yukiji gives you one last reassuring smile before she heads back to the living room. You watch her return to the cozy space, where Michael immediately makes room for her on the couch. The two of them share a brief exchange, and then Michael's gaze shifts back to you, her eyebrows lifting in curiosity.

You hold up the small yellow package, its presence a stark contrast to the warm, homey atmosphere of your new apartment. Michael tilts her head, a silent question in her eyes. You mouth the words, "Ex-man," with a touch of exasperation.

Michael's response is immediate and dramatic. She rolls her eyes, then, making sure no one else is watching, she pretends to choke herself, her expression a comically exaggerated mix of annoyance and disgust. The sight makes you stifle a laugh, your shoulders shaking with quiet giggles.

You set the package down inside the trash can, it doesn’t deserve a place in your new life—not on your new kitchen counters, not anywhere in this apartment that’s quickly becoming your sanctuary.

The small act of discarding it feels like a weight lifted from your chest, and when you glance back at Michael, she gives you a subtle thumbs-up, her eyes twinkling with approval.

You didn’t know what kind of statement he was trying to make but he could take it and shove it straight up his-

“The shows back on!”

“I’m coming!”

–

Up on the rooftop, Bakugou and Kirishima sit with their legs dangling over the edge, enjoying the fresh air as they dig into their convenience store haul. The city hums beneath them, but the height offers a certain peace that neither of them can get on the crowded streets below. Bakugou munches on a sandwich, the coffee he picked up doing little to shake the exhaustion clinging to him. Kirishima, always on alert, keeps watch while they eat, his eyes scanning the horizon.

Kirishima breaks the silence first, biting into an apple before glancing over at his friend. “You going back to that club tonight?”

Bakugou shrugs, hunching over as he chews, clearly not interested in the conversation.

“Come on, bro,” Kirishima continues, trying to sound lighthearted. “I love seeing you get out there, but this isn’t the way to start living your life. You’re gonna get brain rot.” He tosses the rest of his apple toward Bakugou, who catches it effortlessly and glares at him.

“If I did, it’s from hanging out with you for so long,” Bakugou snaps back, rubbing his tired eyes. The coffee isn’t doing its job, but he refuses to pump himself full of those sugary energy drinks that make him feel like crap later.

Kirishima just grins and scoots a little closer. “Come on, man, you gonna tell me what’s up or am I not your bestie anymore?”

Bakugou groans, burying his face in his hands. “I met someone.”

Silence hangs in the air, and when Bakugou looks up, he sees Kirishima staring blankly at him, mouth slightly open.

“What?” Bakugou barks, annoyed.

“Nothing, nothing. Continue.” Kirishima quickly shakes himself out of it, but there’s a hint of surprise lingering on his face.

Bakugou glares, but then sighs, the weight of his thoughts pushing down on him. “I met someone at one of those stupid hangouts Pikachu organized. Now I can’t stop thinking about them.”

Kirishima props his chin on his fist, considering this. “Did you not grab their number or something?”

“No.”

“So you’ve been bummed because you met someone you were interested in and didn’t take a chance?”

“Her.”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t grab her number,” Bakugou clarifies, emphasizing the word with a scowl.

Kirishima blinks rapidly, processing this new information. “You got something to say?” Bakugou challenges, a dangerous edge to his tone.

“No, no, I just—well, I’m a little surprised,” Kirishima admits, holding up his hands in surrender. “So you’ve been going back, hoping to run into her again?”

“I do run into her, but she’s on the clock, and I don’t wanna mess up her shifts.”

Kirishima, assuming this mystery woman must be a bartender or something similar, nods sagely. “Ah, yeah, bro, it’s not manly to hit on someone while they’re working.”

Bakugou grunts in agreement, still looking a little lost in his thoughts.

“Tell that to your fangirls,” Bakugou adds, his tone a mix of irritation and amusement. “Would it kill you to put on a shirt once in a while?” Kirishima laughs, the sound booming through the quiet evening air. “Hey! You get crowded way more than me, and the shirt would get ruined anyway! It would be like trying to groom a pineapple!”

Despite himself, Bakugou smirks at that, shaking his head. “You’re such a dumbass.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dumbass,” Kirishima shoots back with a grin, bumping Bakugou’s shoulder playfully. “And I’m telling you, man, you gotta figure this out. Whether you want to admit it or not, this is getting to you.”

Bakugou looks out at the skyline, his smirk fading as his thoughts drift back to the club, to the mysterious woman who’s somehow taken root in his mind. Maybe Kirishima’s right. Maybe he needs to do something about this before it drives him crazy.

His eyes narrowed as he stared out at the city, the cool breeze doing little to calm the turmoil in his mind. He had half a mind to pull out his phone and check it—just to see if you had responded to his message—but he stopped himself. It was a stupid idea. He knew it. The last thing he needed was to get caught up in something that would only distract him more.

With a frustrated sigh, he shoved his phone deeper into his pocket, deciding to ignore it for now. Kirishima was finishing up his sandwich, glancing over at Bakugou every now and then with a concerned look.

The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity as they finished their patrol. The usual rhythm of their shift felt off, each passing second grating against Bakugou’s nerves. He could hardly focus on anything else, his mind continuously drifting back to that night, to you, and how you had somehow managed to take up residence in his thoughts.

Finally, the clock ticked over, signaling the end of their shift. Bakugou almost bolted for the door, eager to escape the endless loop of thoughts running through his mind. But as they were getting ready to leave, he vaguely remembered something his manager had mentioned earlier—something about a meeting with another agency. He brushed it off for now, deciding that whatever it was, it could wait. All he wanted was to go home and try to decompress.

Kirishima, always considerate, ordered takeout for dinner. He knew Bakugou would come out later, like a rat in the night, to eat whatever was left. When they got home, Kirishima made sure to leave Bakugou’s food in the fridge, his way of looking out for his best friend.

“Hey, I’m heading out with Mina,” Kirishima said as he popped his head into Bakugou’s room, checking in one last time before he left. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bakugou grumbled, though they both knew it was a half-truth at best.

Kirishima gave him a reassuring smile. “Alright, man. Try to get some rest, okay?”

Bakugou nodded, already turning over in bed as Kirishima flicked off the lights, leaving only the lamp and bathroom light on. The AC hummed softly, keeping the room at a comfortable level.

Despite how much he wanted to sleep, Bakugou found himself wide awake, staring up at the ceiling with red, swollen eyes. The exhaustion weighed on him, but his mind refused to shut down. He kept replaying everything—your face, the way you moved, the sound of your voice. It all kept circling in his head, a constant reminder of what he couldn’t seem to let go.

He clenched his fists, frustrated with himself for letting this get to him. This wasn’t like him. He was Katsuki Bakugou, for crying out loud. He didn’t let things like this mess with his head. And yet, here he was, unable to find peace, unable to shake the feeling that something was missing.

‘You know what’s missing.’

The night dragged on, the quiet ticking of the clock only serving to amplify the silence in his room. Bakugou closed his eyes, willing sleep to come, but all he could see was you—dancing in his mind, haunting his every thought.

"Lemme find out that bitch quirked me," Bakugou muttered under his breath, the frustration evident in his voice. He kicked the blankets off the mattress, feeling the oppressive heat of the night suffocating him. The city's lights, filtering in through the blinds, cast a harsh glare across his room, making it feel even hotter. The bed seemed to cling to him, its scratchy fabric rubbing against his skin in a way that only heightened his discomfort.

He tossed and turned, replaying the evening over and over in his mind. Despite taking a shower earlier, he felt as though he needed another one, desperate to wash away the residual restlessness clinging to him.

But it wasn’t just physical discomfort; it was the emotional turmoil that gnawed at him. The moment your eyes met, there was something so profoundly different about you.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how soft and delicate your features had been, how you had looked so soft and huggable. The warmth in his stomach had spread to his chest, a feeling that was both alien and oddly comforting. You had respected his personal space, never making things awkward, never pushing boundaries. It was a rare feeling for him—being treated with such genuine humanity without any judgment.

The warmth in his chest felt like a conflicting beacon, pulling him towards thoughts of you even as he tried to push them away. He rolled over to glance at the clock on his bedside table, the bright red digits glaring back at him:

12:05 AM

Bakugou groaned, dragging a hand through his tousled hair. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t let a simple encounter with someone mess with his head like this. He needed to get some sleep, to clear his mind. But the more he tried to push the thoughts away, the more vividly they replayed in his head—the glow of your features, the way you had made him feel seen, the peculiar comfort that came from being in your presence.

He let out a frustrated sigh and buried his face in his pillow. Maybe it was just a fleeting connection, something that would fade with time. But for now, the city's lights and the ticking of the clock seemed to mock him, keeping him wide awake as he wrestled with the feelings that had unexpectedly crept into his life.

Bakugou closed his eyes, willing himself to steady his breathing. The room was still, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the faint sounds of the city outside. He focused on his breath, in and out, trying to anchor himself in the present. But as much as he tried to push the thoughts away, his mind wandered back to you. The memory of your dance played in his head like a vivid daydream, accompanied by the beat of that song you had chosen for him.

He had been listening to it on his Spotify since that night. The lyrics had burrowed into his brain, especially that one line that made it feel so personal. He knew he was an arrogant asshole—he was better than he was in high school, but that line had hit something deeper. As the song played in his head, he could almost see your silhouette, the way you had moved so fluidly, so intimately, like you were dancing just for him.

Katsuki shifted on his bed, his fingers absentmindedly drumming against the mattress as the scene replayed in his mind. The way your body moved, the way your eyes had locked onto his even through the barrier of glass. It had felt so personal, as if you knew him, really knew him, in a way no one else did. He could feel the tension in his chest, the yearning to hold you, to reach out and touch you, to feel the warmth of your skin against his.

But at the same time, he hesitated. He didn't want to mess everything up with his abrasive personality or his bad attitude. He didn't want to come off as a prick or discover that you weren't anything like the version of you he had built up in his head. The fear of ruining something before it even had a chance to begin gnawed at him.

He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white against the dark sheets, and then released them, repeating the action several times as if it could somehow dispel the restless energy coursing through him. The song's lyrics echoed in his mind, the word "loyalty" standing out above the rest. Bakugou hated liars. He hated posers. He hated pushy people who invaded his space. He could at least tolerate his former classmates, even if they were dumbasses most of the time. But with you... it was different. You hadn’t pushed. You hadn’t judged. You had just been there, existing in his space without making him feel crowded.

And then there was that heart you had drawn on the glass.

His breath hitched at the memory. That simple, playful gesture had done something to him. It had felt like a connection, something unspoken but real. He wanted to reach out, to touch that heart, to feel the warmth behind it. But at the same time, he was terrified of shattering the peace you seemed to have.

Katsuki sat up, running a hand through his messy hair, the strands sticking up at odd angles. The red digits on his clock now read 12:15 AM, and the night felt like it would never end. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet hitting the cool floor. The tension in his body refused to ease, and he found himself standing up, pacing the small space of his room. The shadows shifted with his movements, the city lights casting faint patterns on the walls.

He stopped by the window, staring out at the city below, his hands gripping the windowsill. He wanted to see you again, to experience that connection once more. But he was torn—between wanting to pull you into his life and wanting to keep his distance, afraid of what might happen if he let himself get too close.

Bakugou sighed, the sound heavy in the quiet of the room, and leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window. He didn’t have answers, only the frustrating knowledge that you had gotten under his skin in a way no one else ever had.

And now, he didn’t know how to get you out.

Bakugou gripped the curtains beside him, his fingers twisting the fabric as he closed his eyes and forced himself to relive that moment. That stupid, reckless moment when he had stood up and placed his hand on the glass, reaching out to you without thinking.

He couldn’t see you clearly through the barrier, but he could tell you were smaller than him—tiny, almost. The way your head tilted when you noticed his hand against the glass made his heart lurch, and for a second, he almost pulled away, knowing he had startled you.

But something had kept him there. Stubbornness, or desire—he didn’t know what it was, but he willed himself to stay, to hold his ground. And then you did it. You placed your smaller hand against his, mirroring his gesture, and in that instant, he swore he felt something stir within him. It was as if his heart had started beating again, pounding against his ribs with a force he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hot electricity had shot through his fingertips, through his palm, down his arm, and into his chest. The sensation had been overwhelming, pooling around his heart, suffusing it with warmth and life. It was as if you had reached inside him and jump-started it, breathing new energy into something that had been dormant for far too long. The intensity of it had taken him by surprise, and for a moment, he’d felt utterly exposed, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to be in years.

‘Might as well have shot me,’ he thought, a bitter laugh bubbling up in his throat. No, it was more than that. It was like you had stabbed him, plunged a knife into his chest. Stabbing was much more intimate, after all—something personal, something that you had to think out.

"Fuck, no. Don’t think like that," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as if to dislodge the thought.

His grip on the curtains tightened, his knuckles turning white as he shut his eyes again, trying to block out the image of you standing there, just on the other side of that glass. When he opened his eyes, he felt sick, the room spinning around him as he looked down at the city below. The bright lights that usually made him feel alive now made him dizzy, disoriented, like the ground beneath him was shifting. He wasn’t afraid of heights—he never had been—so why did it feel like the floor was falling out from under him?

Why was there a sharp pain in his chest, like something was tearing him apart from the inside?

His breath hitched, and for the first time in a long time, Bakugou felt like he was drowning in emotions he couldn’t control. The city stretched out beneath him, vast and indifferent, and he felt so small, so insignificant against it all. He hated feeling like this, hated the weakness that gnawed at him.

Why couldn’t you be here to save him?

The thought was irrational, pathetic even, but it clawed at him, a desperate longing he couldn’t shake. He didn’t need saving—he never had. He was Katsuki Bakugou, for fuck’s sake. He was strong, capable, a force to be reckoned with. But right now, all he wanted was for you to be there, to pull him out of this spiral before it swallowed him whole.

He released the curtains and stumbled back from the window, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hand pressed against his chest as if he could somehow calm the storm raging inside him, but it was no use. You weren’t there, and he was left to face the crushing emptiness on his own.

Bakugou’s mind was a chaotic mess, torn between the urge to race down to your club and the instinct to keep his distance. How desperate would he have to be to show up there, to corner you with his feelings? He could already imagine it—the awkward encounter, the way you’d probably smile politely while thinking of the countless other clients who had begged for your attention, begged you to go out with them. He wasn’t just another guy, he knew that. But would you see him that way?

The thought of fucking everything up gnawed at him. What if he came off as a stalker, some creep who couldn’t take a hint? And what if—God, what if you were already in a relationship? What if you were happy with someone else, someone who wasn’t an arrogant, short-tempered asshole like him? The idea made him sick, but it was a reality he had to consider.

How selfish did he need to be before he lost his morality?

The question echoed in his mind, and for a moment, he was frozen in place, staring out at the city lights. But then something inside him snapped. He couldn’t stand the uncertainty, the not knowing. He had to do something—anything to alleviate the pressure building in his chest.

Without thinking, he turned away from the window and went back to his bed, grabbing his phone off the nightstand. His fingers were trembling as he unlocked it and scrolled through his messages, searching for the one he had sent you earlier. It was simple, direct, but it had taken him way too long to hit send.

Spiceman420: “You streaming tonight?”

That was it. He’d stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity before finally sending it. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could manage without sounding like a complete idiot.

Now, as he sat on the edge of his bed, he hesitated again. His thumb hovered over the screen, debating whether to check if you’d responded. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his anxiety growing with each passing second. But eventually, he couldn’t resist. He tapped the message thread and felt his breath hitch when he saw that you were online—right now.

His heart did somersaults as he saw the small notification indicating that you had replied. With a mix of dread and hope, he opened the message.

xxPrincess Diamondxx: “Hey! Sorry I missed your message. :p I was soo tired but I’m doing a little something tonight. I was hoping you’d join me :) Here’s a personal invite just for you.”

You’d sent him a direct invite to your stream, something personal, just for him. Bakugou’s heart raced as he read the words over and over, his mind struggling to process that you had actually reached out to him, that you had thought of him. His fingers trembled as he fumbled for his earbuds, desperate to hear your voice again, even if it was only through a screen.

He quickly accepted the invite, feeling his nerves spike as the screen loaded. The cool night air brushed against his skin as he unlocked the window and stepped outside, needing the fresh air to steady himself. He sat on the ledge, his feet dangling over the side as he waited for the stream to start. The city lights below shimmered like a sea of stars, but all he could focus on was the anticipation building in his chest.

As the stream connected, the familiar interface of the platform greeted him, and he took a deep breath. He was about to see you again, even if it was just a virtual encounter. The thought both thrilled and terrified him. He didn’t know what to expect, didn’t know if he was ready to face you again, but there was no turning back now.

The screen flickered, and there you were. His breath caught in his throat as he saw you appear, the soft glow of your setup highlighting your features. You looked just as beautiful as he remembered, maybe even more so. The sight of you sent a wave of warmth through his body, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he settled in to watch.

His fingers clenched around the phone, his heart still pounding as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. He didn’t know what was going to happen next, but for now, he was content just to be here, just to see you. He adjusted his earbuds and leaned back against the window frame, letting the cool night air wash over him as he watched you, the tension in his chest slowly giving way to a strange sense of peace.

—-

You and Michael spent hours putting together that furniture, each piece stubbornly resisting your efforts until you finally caved and called some friends for backup. They brought their boyfriends along, who managed to figure out the assembly after watching a few YouTube videos. Finally, your guest bedroom transformed into a cuter, more posh version of your old basement setup.

The room is undeniably feminine and inviting, with soft pink bedsheets draped over a plush, cozy bed that beckons you to sink into it. The furniture, painted in delicate shades of white and cream, has a vintage charm, with intricate details and personal touches scattered throughout. A vanity sits against one wall, its mirror framed by warm lights, perfect for your evening rituals. The decor reflects your personality—elegant yet playful, with framed photos, scented candles, and soft throws adding warmth to the space.

You’ve lit some candles, their flickering flames casting a soft glow around the room. Your new guest bedroom is a cozy, feminine retreat, far more inviting than the old basement setup. You slip into your cherry red robe, the silky fabric hugging your figure nicely. The robe, a recent purchase, was a little indulgence you allowed yourself, and every time you put it on, it ironically reminds you of a client’s eyes. His intense gaze had left a lasting impression, one that still lingers in your mind.

But you shake off the thought as you prepare for the night.

As you go live, the chat comes alive with messages, tips, and comments pouring in from your adoring fans. You smile, welcoming everyone warmly and explaining that after a whirlwind of life changes, you wanted to share a relaxing, intimate night with them.

The atmosphere in the chat is buzzing with affection and curiosity as they ask you questions, their excitement palpable through the screen. You're in control, dictating the pace, and it feels empowering. Tonight, you're going to unwind with them, but on your terms.

You continue with your nightly routine, grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste. The chat buzzes with activity as you brush your teeth, some viewers commenting on how meticulous you are while others ask about your skincare products. Once your teeth are brushed, you reach for your moisturizer, applying it in gentle circles across your face.

BlushBerry: “Your skin literally glows! I need your entire skincare line!”

LunarDreamer:“I love how thorough you are with everything. It’s so relaxing to watch.”

You smile, feeling the cool moisturizer absorb into your skin. “Thanks, guys. I try to be consistent. It’s like a little ritual for me every night.”

With your skin now hydrated and fresh, you move to the closet, taking your time to pick out an outfit for work tomorrow. You slide the hangers across the rod before settling on something particularly spicy—a black, lacy bodysuit with sheer panels, paired with a sleek denim mini skirt and thigh-high boots. You hold the outfit up for the camera, grinning mischievously as the chat erupts.

Yourmom69: “Whoa, that’s hot! What’s the occasion?”*

ShadowKnight: “Damn, that’s a killer outfit. Can we get a full view?”

You chuckle as you lay the outfit out on the bed, adjusting the camera to show it off. “Let’s just say I like to keep things interesting. Gotta keep the workday spicy, right?”

Retrofan23: “What do you do for work that you get to wear something like that?”

You tilt your head playfully, leaning closer to the camera. “Oh, you know...I like to keep secrets. Any ideas?” You shoot them a teasing wink, watching as the chat goes wild with guesses ranging from model to dancer to secret agent.

As you finish setting up for tomorrow, you prop your phone against a stack of textbooks, making sure the angle captures you perfectly. You slip into bed, the plush pink sheets almost swallowing you whole as you sink into the mattress. The softness is immediately soothing, and you can’t help but let out a small, content sigh as you settle in.

The chat explodes again, filled with compliments and heart emojis.

GoldenSunset: “You look so cute and comfy! Those sheets are everything.”

VelvetRose: “That bed looks like heaven! And you in it? Perfection.”

You smile, feeling the warmth of the bed and the affectionate words from your viewers. As you shift slightly, your robe loosens, revealing the little white shorts you’re wearing underneath. The movement also causes the robe to slip off one shoulder, teasing just a hint of cleavage, enough to drive the chat wild.

StarGazer88: “Those shorts! 😍 And dem shoulders girl… wow.”*

FrightenedFae: “No bra? You’re spoiling us!”*

You laugh softly, pulling the robe back up a bit but leaving it just loose enough to keep them guessing. “You guys are too much. But hey, it’s all about comfort, right? Gotta be cozy before bed.”

Yourmom69: “You’re killing me with these vibes. It’s like I’m right there with you.”

You lean back against the pillows, relaxing as the chat continues to buzz with energy. “So, what about you guys? What do you do to unwind before bed? Any special routines?”

The responses come in quickly, with viewers sharing their own nightly rituals, from reading to meditating to watching their favorite shows. The exchange is easy and familiar, a reminder of the connection you’ve built with your community. You feel a sense of peace and contentment wash over you, knowing that you’ve created a space where everyone can come together, share, and simply be themselves.

Bakugou sat on his fire escape, the cool night air doing little to calm the heat simmering in his chest. His phone was propped up on his knee, earbuds snug in his ears, and his eyes glued to the screen where you were live, talking and interacting with your viewers. He wished it wasn’t just pixels. The way you moved, the way you smiled—it all felt so real, but also so far out of reach.

He hated it. Hated how he felt jealous of these random extras, these faceless usernames who got to see parts of you, even if it was just a sliver of your world. He clenched his jaw, trying to shake the feeling. It was crazy, irrational even, but the thought of sharing you with anyone made his blood boil. He wanted you all for himself. No sharing, no competing with anyone else for your attention.

The way you teased your viewers, that playful glint in your eye as you read their comments, only made it worse. Bakugou leaned forward, his grip on his phone tightening. The robe you were wearing had slipped just enough to show a hint of your bare shoulder, and the chat was going wild. He let out a frustrated breath, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of more tips rolling in, each one paired with comments that made his skin crawl.

“This is stupid,” he muttered to himself, though his eyes never left the screen. His thumb hovered over the button to close out the stream, to just shut it all down, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he scrolled down to the premium options, his heart hammering in his chest. He knew it was a line he shouldn’t cross, but he was already too far gone.

With a few taps, he purchased the beginner package, a part of him cursing himself for being so damn desperate. The screen flickered, and suddenly, he had access to some exclusive content—photos, videos, things you didn’t share with the general public.

The first thing he did was pull up one of the videos, the thumbnail alone making his breath hitch. You were sitting in that same plush bed, the one he had just seen live, but this time, you were holding the camera, your voice low and intimate as you spoke to whoever was watching. Him, now.

His mind raced as he watched, every word you said feeling like it was directed at him, like you knew exactly what he wanted to hear. The way you moved, the way you looked directly into the camera—it was all so personal, so intoxicatingly close, and yet still just out of his reach.

He could hear you asking the viewers questions, your voice soft and teasing, like you were right there beside him. You were brushing your teeth now, the mundane task somehow feeling so intimate, and Bakugou couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to share those moments with you, to be the one in your space, not just another username in a chat.

When you held up that outfit—damn, that outfit—his breath caught in his throat. The chat was going wild, and he could feel his own heartbeat quicken as you laid the clothes out, teasing the viewers with a playful smirk. He could almost hear you in his head, taunting him with that same mischievous tone.

You were speaking again, responding to a question about why you chose such a risky outfit. “What do you think I do for work?” you teased, your eyes glinting with amusement.

Bakugou swallowed hard, his eyes locked on the screen. He could feel the heat rising in his chest again, that possessiveness creeping back in. How could these idiots not know? How could they not see what he saw?

He watched as you set up your phone, getting ready to climb into bed, the chat lighting up with compliments and guesses about your job. His eyes followed every movement, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t push away. The robe slipped up further, revealing the little white shorts you were wearing underneath, and the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra was painfully obvious now.

“Damn it,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. You were so close, just within reach, and yet all he had were these damn videos and livestreams. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

He could feel his hands trembling as he adjusted his earbuds, his focus entirely on you now. The way you interacted with the chat, the way you responded to the endless stream of comments—it all felt so natural, so effortless. You were everything he didn’t know he wanted, and it was driving him insane.

But he couldn’t stop. Even as his mind screamed at him to shut it down, to stop torturing himself with something he could never have, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He didn’t want to be just another viewer, another faceless fan. He wanted more, needed more.

As you settled into bed, adjusting your robe slipping just enough to tease, Bakugou’s heart raced. He didn’t care about the others watching, didn’t care about the chat or the tips. All he could think about was you, the way you looked, the way you spoke, the way you made him feel. And in that moment, he knew he was hooked.

But damn, did it make him feel like a fool.

You snuggle into your pillow, feeling its softness beneath your cheek as the chat continues to buzz with activity. Messages flood in, viewers asking all sorts of questions about your routine and your life.

xxPinkswirl: "Why don’t you have any plushies on your bed? You’d look so cute with them!"

The question catches you off guard. For a moment, a flicker of a memory—your ex cutting and burning your beloved stuffed animals—flashes through your mind. Fucking asshole couldn't stand not being the center of your attention. Anything that wasn't him, had to go. The fear of anything not plain has lingered, but you push the thought aside and smile at the camera.

“I just haven’t gotten around to it yet,” you say, voice light. “But I do love plushies!”

The chat explodes with comments, viewers finding your response adorable.

Yourmom69: "Aww, what kinds do you like?"

You giggled, your fingers playing with the edge of your robe. "Big, soft ones that I can really squeeze. Maybe something with a cute face that makes you just want to cuddle it all day." You were resting on your pillow again with your leg propped up.

StarGazer88: "We need to get you some plushies ASAP!"

Retrofan23: "Can we send you some? 😍"

FrightenedFae: I’ll be your plushie

Bakugou watches from his fire escape, a mix of emotions churning inside him. He feels a pang of embarrassment for wanting to keep you all to himself, even though he knows it’s irrational. The thought of others seeing this soft, intimate side of you drives him a little crazy. Without hesitation, he navigates to your shopping list, searching for a way to make your space feel more personal, more like home. But when he finds it empty, a surge of determination courses through him. He needs to ask you directly.

He buys some outfits you have on there, the extra cost barely registering in his mind as he clicks through your photos and videos, heart pounding with every new image. The way you move, the softness in your voice, even in these small moments, he’s captivated.

Back in your room, you notice a question from a username you don’t immediately recognize.

Spiceman420: “What kind of plushies do you want?”

You pause, a smile spreading across your face as you read the message. “Hmm, I think I’d love anything soft and cuddly—maybe a big bear. I need something cute and fluffy,” you reply, voice softening. “What about you all? What’s your favorite kind?”

The chat lights up again, and Bakugou leans back against the cool metal railing, his heart beating just a little faster as he imagines surprising you with something you’d love.

Yourmom69: "What’s your favorite comfort food?"

You stretched out, letting the soft bed cradle you as you thought about it. "Definitely mac and cheese," you replied with a playful smirk. "But it has to be the really cheesy kind, none of that watery stuff."

StarGazer88: "Are you into any video games?"

You rolled your eyes in a bratty manner. "Maybe, but only if they don’t waste my time," you teased, winking at the camera. "I get bored easily, so it better be worth it."

As you answered, Bakugou was leaning against the railing of his fire escape, tablet balanced on his knee, while his phone screen was filled with images of teddy bears. He kept scrolling, determined to find one that matched your description—something big, soft, and with an endearing little face.

Retrofan23: "Do you have any guilty pleasures?"

You bit your lip, pretending to ponder the question before answering. "Maybe," you said, dragging out the word. "But if I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret, would it?"

Bakugou’s heart skipped a beat as he watched you, his fingers still tapping away on his phone. He found a bear that seemed perfect—soft, huggable, and with an expression that almost screamed, “Cuddle me.” He paused, contemplating before sending a message to you.

FrightenedFae: "What’s your favorite time of year?"

You grinned, curling into the pillow a bit more. "Winter," you answered, your tone a bit softer. "I love the cold, cozy nights, hot cocoa, and the way everything feels a little more magical."

Total lie actually. You hated not celebrating because of that jerk. But you wanted to experience it like in the movies and TV shows that kept you company. Spring was always better because it meant that your depression was over and summer would be there soon to warm you up again.

Bakugou’s breath hitched as he readied himself to send the message. He was nervous—something that didn’t happen often, but this was different. You were different.

Spiceman420: Found something that might be your type. Mind if I send it your way?

He sent the message, his thumb hovering over the screen as if he could somehow will a response from you. Meanwhile, you were adjusting your phone, propping it against a pillow to get a better angle, unaware of the chaos you were causing in the chat.

Yourmom69: “I’m still caught up on the lack of plushies. I wanna see you surrounded by them!”

“Maybe I'll start a new collection soon.~"

As the chat exploded with suggestions, Bakugou’s phone buzzed with your reply. His eyes widened slightly, and his pulse quickened as he read your response, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He quickly started searching for the best way to get that bear to you, his mind filled with thoughts of how you’d react when you saw it. He could picture you holding it close, smiling—maybe even thinking of him when you did.

You laugh again, the sound light and genuine as you shake your head. "You guys are being too generous," you say, warmth seeping into your tone. "But fine, I’ll make a list. Just one plushie at a time, though! That way, no one gets left out."

As the chat continues to buzz with excitement, Bakugou leans back against the wall, his heart still racing. His hand grips his phone tightly, and he can’t help the small smirk tugging at his lips. Watching you smile at his gift, even through a screen, feels oddly fulfilling.

He glances at the time on his tablet, realizing how long he’s been watching, but he doesn’t care. For now, he’s content to stay right where he is, just a little closer to you, even if it’s through a screen.

You scan through the chat, eyes catching a message you’d somehow missed. "Oh no, did I miss something from Spiceman420 ?" you ask aloud, teasingly adding, "Go ahead, but it better not be anything weird!" You laugh softly, leaning back against your pillows, the light from your screen casting a soft glow over your face.

Meanwhile, Bakugou is sitting on the edge of his bed, his tablet propped up on a makeshift stand of books and a few old magazines. His fingers hover over his phone screen as he quickly types the link to a fluffy blond teddy bear he’d found, slamming it into the chat. The moment he hits send, his heart races, watching for your reaction.

Your screen lights up with the image of the teddy bear, and the chat immediately bursts into a chorus of oo’s and awe’s.

Yourmom69: That’s so cute!

StarGazer88: Awww, I love it!

Retrofan23: That bear’s got style.

FrightenedFae: It would be perfect for you!

You tilt your head slightly, inspecting the bear. "Okay, I have to admit, that’s really cute," you say, your voice softening. "I could use a little guy to cuddle with and keep me company.”

Bakugou’s lips twitch into a small smile as he sees your reaction. Without hesitating, he taps into his account and tips you enough to cover both the bear and its shipping. He feels a mix of satisfaction and a strange, unfamiliar warmth as he watches you consider his gift.

"Whoa, looks like Spiceman420 is really spoiling me tonight," you say with a playful lilt in your voice. "Thank you so much!" You glance at the growing number of comments scrolling up the screen.

Yourmom69: You’re so lucky! ��

StarGazer88: We need to get her more plushies you guys!

Retrofan23: Make a shopping list, we’ll cover it all!

FrightenedFae: Let us spoil you!

You felt a little panic rise into your chest at the idea of owning plushies again. But you could just keep them inside the room as props. That’s all they would be, props.

As you continue chatting with your viewers, a large tip notification pops up on your screen, nearly making you do a double-take. "$500?!" you exclaim, a mix of surprise and amusement in your voice. The accompanying message reads:

"Put on some lotion for us, please."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "You know, I can’t say no to that," you tease, your voice dropping to a sultry tone. The chat goes wild with excitement, the screen filling with heart emojis and messages encouraging you.

Meanwhile, Bakugou, who had been half-distracted by his own thoughts, immediately perks up, his vermillion eyes widening at the sudden turn of events. He sits up straighter, his jaw tightening slightly as he watches you on the screen. His eyebrows raise in surprise, but he can’t tear his gaze away.

You make a show of it, slowly walking over to your vanity and grabbing a bottle of lotion. "I guess you all want a little show, huh?" you say, your voice soft and teasing. The way you drag out your words only makes the anticipation grow, and you can see the chat explode with excitement.

Yourmom69: Damn ma, you sexy!!

StarGazer88: This is gonna be good!

Retrofan23: Can’t wait to see this!

FrightenedFae: I’m dying already!

You stand up and move gracefully back to your vanity, the soft light from your candles casting a warm, golden glow on your skin. Bakugou watches intently as you sit on the stool, positioning yourself just right for the camera. The robe you’re wearing shifts slightly, revealing a bit more of your thigh as you sit down, and you can almost hear the collective gasp from your audience.

As you pour a generous amount of lotion into your hands, you rub them together slowly, the sound of your hands moving against each other barely audible but strangely intimate. The way you start at your ankles, (you not showing your feet for free working the lotion into your skin with deliberate, sensual movements, has Bakugou leaning in closer to his screen. His eyes are locked on you, his heart pounding in his chest as he watches you slowly massage the lotion up your calves, over your knees, and then up your thighs.

His throat feels dry, and he swallows hard, trying to regain some semblance of composure. But it’s no use; he’s completely captivated by the sight of you. The soft, deliberate way you move, the way your fingers glide over your skin, it’s all too much. His breathing becomes shallow, his heart hammering as he watches you.

You glance up at the camera, your eyes meeting his through the screen, and he swears you can see him. The connection feels almost tangible, like you’re right there in the room with him. You tilt your head slightly, giving the camera a knowing look before standing up and moving behind a decorative divider.

The chat goes wild, messages flying in faster than you can read them.

Yourmom69: OMG, this is everything!

StarGazer88: She’s killing me!

Retrofan23: I wanna bite into those calves!

FrightenedFae: I’m gonna die from your beauty!!

You drape the robe over the divider, leaving you only in those tiny white shorts. Bakugou’s eyes narrow as he tries to catch a glimpse of you beyond the screen. He can feel his body tense up, his fists clenching and unclenching as he imagines what you’re doing just out of view. The way you casually reach for more lotion, the sound of your skin rubbing against the fabric, it’s all driving him crazy.

When you pick up your rob and finally emerge from behind the divider, your skin glistening, the chat erupts once again. The tips flood in, and you can’t help but smile at the overwhelming response.

Yourmom69: She’s glowing!

StarGazer88: I can’t breathe!!

GoldenSunset: Take all my money!

FrightenedFae: I’m dead.

Bakugou’s eyes stay locked on you as you move back to the bed, every movement slow and deliberate. The robe has slipped off one of your shoulders again, revealing just enough skin to make his pulse quicken. He’s never felt like this before, never been so captivated by someone, and it frustrates him how much he wants you.

His fingers tremble slightly as he picks up his phone, the desire to send you another message, another tip, burning in the back of his mind. He wants to be the one to spoil you, to have your attention, but he also wants more than just this screen between you.

As you settle back onto your bed, snuggling into your pillow, Bakugou feels a pang of jealousy. All these other viewers get to see this side of you, but he wants more. He wants to know you, to hold you, to be the one who makes you smile like that.

He watches as you respond to the chat, your voice soft and teasing, your eyes sparkling with mischief. His heart aches with the realization that he’s falling for you, but for now, he’s content to just watch, to soak in every moment, and to dream of the day when he might have more than just pixels between you.

Bakugou blinked, realizing the time displayed on his tablet—1:00 AM. The fatigue was heavy in his body, but sleep still eluded him. He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the exhaustion tugging at him, but his mind was still racing, filled with thoughts of you.

Would you take a request without him sending any money? The idea felt ridiculous. He clenched his jaw, feeling the knots in his stomach tighten. Bakugou wasn't one to ask for favors, much less from someone he barely knew, but the thought nagged at him, refusing to let go. Before he could overthink it, he typed out a simple message and hit send, his heart pounding in his chest.

Back on your end, you were just getting settled back into your bed, the soft pillows cradling your head as you answered a few more questions from the chat. The tips had slowed down a bit, and the energy was starting to wind down as everyone began to relax with you. Your eyes skimmed over the messages, a soft smile playing on your lips as you responded.

The chat is alive with comments and questions, but one message catches your eye.

Spiceman420: "I can't sleep. Can you help?"

Your heart goes out to the person behind the username. You understand what it feels like to struggle with sleep, especially when your mind won’t quiet down. You smile softly at the camera, your expression sympathetic.

"Oh, I’m sorry to hear that you can’t sleep, Spiceman420," you say gently. "What can I do to help you out?"

The chat buzzes with activity as you wait for his response, your eyes scanning the messages flying in.

Yourmom69 : Aww, how sweet! LunarDreamer : She’s such a caring person! Retrofan23 : Maybe a bedtime story? FrightenedFae: Some soft music, maybe?

You glance back at the screen, waiting for Spiceman420 to reply, genuinely wanting to help him relax and find some peace.

On the other side of the screen, Bakugou feels his heart rate spike. He hadn’t expected you to notice his message so quickly, let alone respond so kindly. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and types out his request, hoping it isn’t too much to ask.

Your eyes light up as you see his next message pop up.

Spiceman420: "Could you maybe just talk for a bit? About anything."

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Of course, I can do that. Sometimes just hearing someone’s voice can be really soothing." You adjust your position on the bed, making yourself comfortable, and begin to speak, your voice gentle and calming.

"I’ll tell you about my day then," you start, settling in. "My bestie and I spent hours putting together some new furniture for my bedroom. It’s looking really cute now. I tried cooking some stir fry but ended up setting off the smoke alarm."

As you continue talking, you notice the chat reacting positively, your viewers appreciating the more personal glimpse into your life.

Bakugou leans back against his bed, his eyes closing as he listens to you. Your voice is soothing, a gentle lull that begins to ease the tension in his body. He can almost picture the room you’re describing, imagining the warmth and comfort of it.

You keep going, answering a few more questions from your viewers, occasionally glancing at the screen to see the messages coming in.

Yourmom69 : That sounds lovely! StarGazer88 : Can we see the room again sometime? Retrofan23 : I bet it looks amazing! FrightenedFae: I love pink sheets!

You smile, feeling a sense of connection with your audience. "Maybe I’ll do a room tour tomorrow," you say playfully. "But for now, let’s just relax together. Is there anything else you’d like to hear about, Spiceman420?"

You wait for his response, genuinely wanting to help him feel at ease, your voice continuing to be a soothing presence in the night. The chat immediately responded with supportive comments.

Yourmom69 : That’s so sweet of you! StarGazer88 : I love this idea! Retrofan23 : Spiceman’s lucky! VelvetRose: You’re such a sweetheart, helping everyone like this.

As you waited for Spiceman420’s response, you adjusted your robe, pulling it a bit tighter around you for comfort. The soft glow from the candles cast a warm light across your room, making the pink bedsheets look even more inviting. You shifted slightly on your bed, the plush mattress sinking just enough to cradle you comfortably.

Meanwhile, Bakugou was staring at his tablet, his heart thudding in his chest. He hadn't expected you to respond so quickly, or with so much warmth. He bit his lip, his fingers hovering over the screen as he considered what to say. Before he could overthink it, he typed a simple, “Whatever works for you” and hit send. He set his phone down on his lap, his leg bouncing slightly with restless energy as he waited.

Your eyes flicked to the screen, catching his response. A soft smile curled on your lips. "Alright, Spiceman," you said gently, your voice warm and soothing. "Let’s see what we can do."

Before you could continue, another notification pinged in the chat.

FrightenedFae just tipped $700.

Your eyes widened slightly, not at the amount—though it was generous—but at the message that came with it:

"Can you talk like it’s a girlfriend audio? Something to help us all wind down?"

You glanced at the camera, a thoughtful look on your face. This wasn’t an uncommon request, but it was always a bit different depending on the person. You wanted to make sure Spiceman420 was comfortable with it, given the situation.

"Wow, thank you so much, FrightenedFae," you said, your voice genuine. "That’s really generous of you. I’ll definitely do that, but I want to make sure it's okay with Spiceman first." You looked directly into the camera, your expression softening. "Spiceman, would that be alright with you?"

Bakugou stared at the screen, feeling a strange mix of emotions. This wasn’t what he’d expected, but he found himself typing, "Yeah, go ahead."

He didn’t know why he was letting himself get so wrapped up in this, but there was something about your voice, your presence, that made him feel… calmer, more centered.

Seeing his response, you nodded. “Alright then, let’s do this.” You adjusted your position on the bed, reclining back against the pillows, and let your voice drop into a lower, smoother tone. There was a slight rasp to it, a warm, comforting quality that made it feel like you were right there beside him. It wasn’t sexual, but there was an intimacy to it that felt personal, genuine.

“Hey,” you began, your voice soft and soothing. “I know it’s late, and you’re probably feeling pretty tired, maybe even a little restless. But that’s okay. We’re gonna wind down together, alright? Just take a deep breath for me… and let it out slowly.” You inhaled and exhaled, bust moving with your gentle breaths.

Bakugou’s eyes widened, his breath hitching in his throat. He found himself unconsciously following your instructions, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, his body already beginning to relax.

“Now,” you continued, “before you get too comfy, make sure you’ve got everything you need for the night. Did you drink some water? Maybe grab a little snack, something light. I don’t want you to go to bed hungry. And if you haven’t brushed your teeth yet, now’s a good time to do that too. Just take care of yourself, okay?”

The chat was going to kill your phone again.

Yourmom69 : I’m getting up right now, queen! StarGazer88 : You’re too good to us! Retrofan23 : I don’t wanna leave my bed, but I’ll do it for you! FrightenedFae: This is exactly what I needed tonight, thank you!

Bakugou’s mind was spinning. He felt ridiculous for actually considering getting up, but your voice had a way of making him want to do what you said. He let out a soft, resigned groan and pushed himself up from the bed. Grabbing a granola bar from his kitchen, he unwrapped it and took a bite, chewing slowly as he continued listening to you.

“Good job,” you praised, your voice dripping with warmth and encouragement. “Now, when you’re ready, get yourself back to bed. Make sure you’re comfortable, get under those covers, and just let your body relax. You’ve done everything you needed to today. It’s time to let yourself rest.”

Fuck it was like you could see him.

Bakugou finished the granola bar and downed a glass of water, feeling oddly obedient as he brushed his teeth. He didn’t even know why he was listening to you, but something about the way you spoke made it easy to just… go along with it. Maybe if he tricked his body into following your advice, he’d finally be able to sleep.

As he climbed back into bed, he pulled his tablet closer, your stream still playing as he settled in. The tension in his chest had lessened, and for the first time that night, he felt like maybe, just maybe, sleep might actually come.

As you continued, fully embracing the role of a comforting presence, Bakugou found himself removing his shirt, the cool air brushing against his skin as he settled back into bed. He watched you intently, your voice still playing through his tablet as you lay down, adjusting the camera to a more intimate angle.

The chat was buzzing with questions, the most popular one catching your eye:

StarGazer88: Do you prefer to sleep with or without clothes?

A sly smile crossed your lips as you considered the question, your eyes glancing at the camera. "Without, if I'm being honest," you admitted with a playful tone. "But it really just depends on the night. I love sleeping with the fan on, so sometimes it can get pretty cold."

You gave the camera a knowing look before slipping off the bed, disappearing for a moment. The chat was alive with speculation, everyone trying to guess what you were up to. Bakugou leaned closer to his screen, his brows furrowing in curiosity.

When you returned, the sight made Bakugou almost sit up so quickly that he nearly hit his head on the bedframe. You were wearing an oversized "Ground Zero" t-shirt, the black fabric swallowing your frame, the iconic hero logo printed across your chest. It hung loosely on you, the hem almost reaching your thighs.

Bakugou’s heart skipped a beat. That shirt—his shirt—on you? It was like a punch to his gut, but in the best way possible. Seeing you wear something with his brand, something that represented him, made him feel something he hadn’t expected—possessiveness mixed with a strange, warm pride.

The chat erupted with excitement.

Yourmom69 : OMG that shirt is so cute on you! FrightenedFae : Look at that merch! Represent! Retrofan23 : Where can we get that shirt?! StarGazer88: Ground Zero fan confirmed!! 😍

You smiled sweetly at the comments, clearly enjoying the reaction. "It’s one of my favorites," you confessed, adjusting the shirt slightly as you crawled back onto your bed. "So comfy. And it’s perfect for nights like this."

Bakugou couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. Seeing you all dolled up at the club had been one thing, but this—this was different. It was intimate, personal. You looked so relaxed, so natural in his shirt, and it did something to him. He felt like he was seeing a side of you that no one else got to see, a softer, sweeter version that was a stark contrast to the poised, alluring figure you presented at the club.

You settled down onto the bed, placing your phone next to your pillow. Your voice dropped to a soft, soothing tone as you began to hum a quiet melody, something gentle and comforting. "You all are so sweet," you murmured, the warmth in your voice palpable. "Thank you so much for being here with me tonight, for all your tips, your kind words… I really appreciate it. Make sure to join me tomorrow, okay?"

Bakugou’s breath hitched as he watched you, his eyes glued to the screen. That shirt looked so oversized on you, making you seem so much smaller, so much more… his. He knew it was crazy, that it was just a piece of clothing, but seeing you in it felt like a special treat, a glimpse into something more personal.

He barely noticed the time slipping by, so captivated by the sight of you snuggled into your bed, wearing his merch, humming softly as if you were already half-asleep. It was so different from your usual stream persona—this was you, in your element, in your space. And for Bakugou, that made all the difference.

He clenched his fists, trying to steady the chaotic mix of emotions swirling inside him. There was something about this moment that made him want to be the only one watching, the only one who got to see you like this. It was irrational, possessive, but he couldn’t help it.

For now, though, he just let himself enjoy the sight of you in his shirt, knowing that this was something special—something he wanted to keep close, just for himself.

You continued to hum softly, your voice a gentle lullaby, Bakugou’s eyes grew heavier with each passing moment. He barely noticed the time slipping by as he lay back against his pillow, the cool night air from the open window brushing against his skin. The sound of your voice, warm and soothing, wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, lulling him into a peaceful state he hadn’t felt in a long time.

His tablet rested on his chest, the screen dimming as the stream continued. More than half the viewers had already given their final tips, sending heart emojis and sweet messages before quietly exiting the stream, thinking you were on the verge of sleep. Bakugou’s breath slowed, his eyes fluttering shut as your soft words continued to echo in his mind.

“Thank you for being here with me tonight,” you whispered, your voice barely audible now, like a quiet breeze. “Sleep well, everyone.”

Those last words drifted through his mind as he finally succumbed to his exhaustion. His breathing evened out, the tension in his body melting away as he drifted into sleep, your voice still playing softly in the background.

But what Bakugou didn’t see—what none of the remaining viewers saw—was the shadowed figure that appeared behind you. As you lay still on your bed, seemingly asleep, the figure leaned over, careful and deliberate. A hand reached out, gently grabbing your phone from the pillow.

The stream abruptly ended.

The screen on Bakugou’s tablet turned black, signaling the end of the broadcast. But he was already deep in sleep, oblivious to what had just happened, lost in a dream where your voice was the only thing that mattered.

In the dark room, the figure stepped back, the phone in hand, as the glow from the screen faded into nothingness.

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

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @raendarkfaerie If you wanna be added lemme know!

Chapter 1 is here Chapter 2 is here.

Chapter 3 is here

That was the first chapter! So far there are 9 posted on my ao3 account.

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Farmer Bakugou x Gardener Reader here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

69 notes · View notes

zweiginator · 4 months ago

Note

ARARARARARAARA i love the way you write so much, big fan fr

maybe college!artrick even send you like a voice message or something of them jerking off together and talking about you...how much they want you, how beautiful you are, what they want to do to you, how much they want to share you... thinking many thoughts about these two 😵‍💫

-🐞

and you're kind of a goody-two-shoes!!! you've only ever been with your high school sweetheart. you only really have passionless missionary sex and you don't know any different. you don't know how much it can be fueled by passion and tension. how you should have butterflies in your stomach and you should feel the need to hold back the sounds that threaten to come out of you like a fucking animal--but you've never had to hold back.

so you're having second thoughts about your relationship. because you've never felt those butterflies. but when you're in class giving a presentation you're full of them--not because you're in front of a sea of people, no, because art and patrick are in the front row. they're leaning forward and chewing on peppermint gum and looking you up and down unabashedly. you'd think those butterflies were just anxiety if not for the slippery wetness between your legs.

it makes you resent your boyfriend a little. because he doesn't look at you like that. like he wants to devour you until his mouth is dripping with you.

and you don't want someone who is just going through the motions. you contemplate ending things with him and in a moment of weakness you gave art and patrick your number after class, as they complimented your presentation. asked if you would be willing to help them out with their projects. they'd been so busy with tennis.

you nod. of course you'd help them. you feel awful now, tilting your phone away from your boyfriend as patrick sends you a message. a video.

you excuse yourself and watch it on low volume. your breath hitches and you squeeze your legs together and you don't know what you're looking at until your eyes seem to finally focus and patrick and art's cocks are on full display. you can't see their faces but you can tell who is who by the skin tones, the scattering of hair on patrick's chest and abdomen, compared to art's smooth, almost hairless skin.

and you can see that they aren't touching themselves, no, they are touching each other in long strokes and talking about you. using vulgar words that sound syrupy and sweet coming out of their mouths. talking about your cunt, how soft it must be, how tight. how you'd beg for them because they know you've never been fucked like that before. they chuckle, because they know they're right.

and the video is finished as they do, warm cum coating their abs that flex and pulse and you save the video but delete the conversation.

you touch yourself that night and watch it. you really never do this, but you feel so horny for the first time that you have to. and you realize, after the mere sounds of their voices, as you pretend they're cooing in your ears, is enough to make you cum harder than you ever have before. they're right. of course they are.

#ask #challengers #patrick zweig #art donaldson #challengers smut #college!artrick #🐞 anon

75 notes · View notes

winxanity-ii · 1 year ago

Text

VIRAL AFFECTION

ship: miles morales x fem!reader warnings: non-explicit (fluff x 3) word count: 5.6k a/n: Once again, sorry for the lack of updates, college life is no joke...don't do it y'all, jkjk 👀 but fr, just had a cute lil thought i wanted to indulge in 🥹❤️

★·.·´🇲‌🇦‌🇷‌🇻‌🇪‌🇱‌/ 🇲‌🇦‌🇷‌🇻‌🇪‌🇱‌ 🇨‌🇮‌🇳‌🇪‌🇲‌🇦‌🇹‌🇮‌🇨‌ 🇺‌🇳‌🇮‌🇻‌🇪‌🇷‌🇸‌🇪‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You lounged in your dorm room, phone in hand as you lazily scrolled through TikTok. It was just another typical evening, filled with catchy tunes and viral dances, until you stumbled upon a video that captured your attention.

It was a boy, seemingly around your age, his screen filled with the genuine warmth of someone who wore his heart on his sleeve. His profile name read milesmorales, with the caption, "Falling without saying a word... 🥺💕," compelling enough to make you stop and watch.

The boy—Miles—in the video was undeniably cute; he had a head of tight curls, skin a rich shade of brown, and hazel eyes that sparkled with a kind of bashful enthusiasm.

But it was his smile, accompanied by the appearance of dimples, that really got you.

He was awkwardly adorable, his words tumbling out with a mix of shyness and awe. "There's this person in my lecture hall..." he started, his voice tinged with a nervous excitement. The apple of his cheeks were a soft pink, and you found his bashfulness endearing. He talked about them as though they were the sun—bright, warm, and utterly captivating. "They're just... amazing, you know? There's something about them. I can't stop thinking about them," he stuttered, looking down with a shy smile playing on his lips.

As the video progressed, Miles' cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, as did the tips of his ears. He visibly struggled to express his feelings, yet he persevered, driven by the strength of his emotions. "I think I might... I might be in love," he confessed, his voice barely more than a whisper. It was a bold statement, especially for someone who admitted, with a flustered grin, that he hadn't even spoken to them yet. "I've just seen them from across the room," he said, laughing nervously, his hand coming up to shield his eyes as if to hide from his own confession.

The video ended with him looking down for a moment before meeting the camera again. "I don't even know if they know I exist, but I just had to share this."

As the video looped back to the beginning, you were struck by the sincerity and sweetness of his confession.

"Aww," you found yourself smiling at your phone, touched by his raw, unpolished honesty.

He wasn't playing it cool or trying to be something he wasn't. He was just a guy, overwhelmed by his feelings for someone he'd never even talked to.

You found yourself replaying the video, drawn to his earnestness. There was something about his demeanor that was incredibly relatable and real.

It felt like watching a scene from a movie, except there was no script here—just a boy, a phone, and a crush that had taken him completely by surprise.

You couldn't help but wonder about the person he was talking about—were they aware of the lovestruck boy who adored them from afar? The thought lingered in your mind as you continued scrolling, Miles' shy smile imprinted in your memory.

Curiosity piqued; you noticed a comment pointing to another video. It was a follow-up, just as viral as the first.

You clicked, and there he was again—with earnest eyes, now a familiar presence on your screen. Miles' voice, soft and almost reverent, drew you into his world once more.

He was trying to articulate his feelings better this time, speaking of the person he'd never directly spoken to, yet felt so deeply for. As he talked, his eyes shimmered with an unspoken joy. "It's weird, right? How you can feel so much for someone you've never talked to? But every time I see them, it's like my day gets a little brighter."

Miles' voice took on a softer tone, almost reverent, as he described them. He recounted small details—how quiet they were and how they seemed isolated at first but were actually incredibly kind, always ready to help others.

You found yourself drawn into his narrative, seeing this person through his eyes.

"They have this quiet strength about them," he said softly, his eyes lighting up. "It's like, they don't need to be loud to be noticed. Their kindness... it just speaks volumes."

He shifted slightly, pausing as if gathering his thoughts. "And the way they have this way of being there for people, even when they keep to themselves. It's like they don't even realize how sweet they are. It's just... part of who they are. It's amazing to watch. I admire that, I really do."

The video concluded with a moment of vulnerability, his gaze shifting off-camera, a wistful tone in his voice. "I just wish I could tell them all this, ya know? Just walk up to them and say it. Maybe someday," he murmured, more to himself than to his audience.

You found yourself scrolling through the comments, where viewers had poured out their hearts in response to his vulnerability:

starlightdreamer This is the cutest thing ever 😭 You HAVE to talk to them! funnyguy87: Dude, if you don't tell them, I'm stealing your lines for my crush 😂 hopelessfalleesr23: Manifesting a guy like this for myself 😍💕 mysterygirl123: If it doesn't work out with them, I'm right here! comediequeenie: Plot twist: This is marketing for a netflix rom-com. jkjk can't wait for the next update 😂 sinceritiesqueaks: This is so pure. It's rare to see someone so genuine. Don't lose that spark! They're lucky ❤️

"Saammmee," you giggled softly at the comments, finding the whole situation endearingly sweet.

Curiosity led you to Miles' TikTok profile, eager to devour his other videos. There were only four more since the viral one—each one a treasure in its own right. The most recent one caught your attention immediately. In it, Miles addressed the growing curiosity about his crush's identity. "So, my account's blown up way more than I expected," he started, a mix of surprise and caution in his tone. "And to answer the question everyone's asking: no, I won't be showing what they look like. The reasons? I don't want someone sweeping in before I get my chance to express my feelings, and I definitely don't want them getting hate from people being delusional. That's it. I hope that clears things up. Now, please stop asking."

You couldn't help but vocalize your admiration, "We stan an intellectual king," admiring his consideration and respect for his crush's privacy.

The second video was a delicate blend of candor and restraint, hinting at what led to his latest update. Miles appeared hesitant, weighing each word as if he was trying to maintain boundaries amidst his sudden online fame. "I get that you're all curious, and I appreciate the love, but please stop flooding my DMs for updates. It's not about what they look like, it's about who they are, the person I've come to admire from a distance. I'll share more about them, sure, but I'm going to keep it vague from now on. Some things... they need to stay just between us, even in this digital world."

Each word he spoke felt like a secret shared just with you, despite the thousands of other viewers.

You were drawn deeper into the story of this boy and his unseen crush; his words painted a picture of an affection that was pure and profound, leaving you eagerly anticipating the next chapter in this digital love story.

In the third video, he responded to a comment about his appearance.

budsinlighter: Why are you so afraid to confess/talk when you're this good-looking?

As you watch, you find yourself nodding agreeing—Miles really is handsome. His face, a beautiful blend of African-Latino heritage, is marked by a rich brown skin tone that glows under the camera light. His hazel eyes, fringed with curly eyelashes, are deeply expressive, radiating a mix of vulnerability and warmth.

But it's his smile that captures your heart—a boyish, charming smile that brings out small dimples at the corners of his full, two-toned lips. There's a hesitant yet genuine quality to it, like he's still getting used to being seen and appreciated.

Miles' hair adds to his distinctive look—3B curls in a stylish brown undercut, the sides neatly trimmed, making the curls on top stand out even more. His skin appears smooth, almost poreless, adding to his youthful appearance. His high cheekbones are accentuated every time he smiles or laughs, adding to the boyish charm that makes him so endearing.

Miles answers with a shy laugh, "I guess I don't really see myself like that. I mean, on campus, I try to dress nice sometimes, but mostly, it's just a big hoodie, sweats, and a beanie for me." He fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt, looking more like a boy trying to find comfort in his own skin than the confident image he's portrayed.

He continues, his voice dropping a bit as he shares something deeply personal. "Growing up, I was... different. I was lanky, had acne, pretty short. Got a lot of flak for it, from family and at school." He shrugs, his eyes drift away from the camera, as if revisiting those memories isn't easy. "So now, even when people call me attractive, it's hard to believe. I still feel like that kid sometimes, you know? It's weird getting compliments when you've spent so long seeing yourself in a completely different way."

As he speaks, there's an honesty that resonates with you. His struggles, his transformation, the dissonance between how the world sees him and how he sees himself – it all paints a picture of someone who's grown, yet still carries the scars of his past.

"Poor baby," You sigh, feeling yourself relate to him even more.

As you tap on the last video, you see that it's a six-minute Q&A of Miles answering the most liked questions from his viral video's comments. You lean in, intrigued.

The intimate setting of his dorm room, with posters adorning the walls and a soft light casting a cozy glow, makes it feel like a personal chat.

kirano-indemguts: How old are you?

Miles responded with an easy smile, "I'm 19, born in August. Makes me a Leo, if anyone's into astrology."

gimmiegimmeamaniepedi: Height?

He looked momentarily puzzled, as if the question hadn't crossed his mind before. "Oh, uh, I'm not sure how tall they are, but I don't really care, tall, short. But if you mean me, I think I'm around 6'2," he said, giving a small, almost shy laugh. He gestured to his frame, as if to offer a visual confirmation of his height.

kiranoeiw: Are u a top or bottom 😛

Miles' expression shifted to one of mild confusion and embarrassment. His voice dropped to a near whisper, and he looked down, a blush coloring his cheeks. "I, um, I don't really know what that means..." He coughed slightly, regaining his composure. "Let's go to the next question."

hhhobies: your video make my whole day💗💖✴🌺 but can you make my hole weak?💞💞✌🏻

For a moment, Miles blinked, his expression one of confusion. Then, as the meaning of the words sunk in, his eyes widened slightly. He stuttered, momentarily lost for words. "You guys really just go for it, huh?" he finally managed to say, his laughter breaking through the initial shock as he moved on to the next question.

samiyasosa: Have you ever been in a relationship before?

Miles hummed thoughtfully, his fingers absentmindedly tousling the top of his hair. "No, I haven't," he admitted with a hint of vulnerability. "I was kind of just... there, ya know? Watching everyone else navigate dating and relationships while I never really jumped in."

You found yourself nodding in agreement, his words mirroring your own experiences. Like Miles, you had always thought it smarter to wait until after high school to explore dating, a decision advised by the adults around you.

Now, in college, you found yourself inexperienced in the dating scene.

Your attention returned to the video as Miles fell into a moment of quiet reflection, his sigh soft and contemplative. He looked away, his gaze distant. "If they're not interested or I get rejected, it's okay," he spoke, his tone imbued with a sense of bittersweet acceptance. "I can't force anyone to like me. Everyone's their own person, right? Sure, it'll hurt, but... that's life."

You didn't need to see the question to know what was asked because his response was more than enough; his ability to accept and maturity to prepare for any potential outcome of his crush situation earned your silent applause.

The video ended with him mustering a smile, shrugging off the sadness. "I'll keep you guys updated. Bye for now, and thanks for all the support."

As the screen went dark, you let out a sigh, echoing his sentiment. "Same, Miles. Same," you muttered, feeling a connection to his candidness and honesty. Your thoughts briefly wandered, pondering the complexities of unrequited feelings and the bravery it took to express them.

The shrill sound of your alarm abruptly pulled you back to reality, signaling the end of your brief escape into Miles' world.

With a groan and an exaggerated eye roll, you shut off the alarm and sat up, preparing to switch gears. "From crushing on a TikTok confession to deciphering ancient myths," you quipped with a touch of sarcasm, reaching for your mythology textbook. "Because clearly, my academic life is as thrilling as my non-existent love life."

As you gathered your study materials, a final glance at your phone screen showed Miles' TikTok account still open. Finding his entire situation and candidness on his account endearing, you couldn't help but press 'Follow,' a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

There was something about him—his vulnerability, his honesty—that resonated with you.

Eager to see how his story unfolded, you made a mental note to keep up with his updates.

With a newfound sense of connection, albeit to a stranger on the internet, you turned your attention to your homework, the mythological tales waiting to be unraveled.

Yet, somewhere in the back of your mind, the thought of Miles and his unspoken love story lingered, a sweet distraction from the mundane routine of college life.

A weary groan escaped your lips as you trudged into your dorm room. Glancing to the left, you noticed your roommate's side still empty, a stark reminder of her absence since Fall Break.

Now, with Winter Break fast approaching and the weight of semester final exams bearing down, her continued absence felt more pronounced.

You shuffled to your side of the room, dropping your backpack with a thud onto the desk. Exhaustion overwhelmed you as you collapsed facedown onto your bed, letting out a muffled scream into your pillow.

Your brain felt like it had been put through a blender after completing your final mythology exam.

Apsu, Hercules, Persphone, Gilgamesh,Antigone,Tiamat,Aphrodi—AHHH! So much to recall!

You were so grateful for your professor's open-notes policy. Though the only downside was that you were only allowed three notecards to put said notes on.

An award should be given for the way you managed to cram an entire semester’s worth of lessons onto those three cards.

Your hand lazily reached into your pocket to fetch the notecards and see if they reflected anything you recalled from the exam, but it came up empty. Your face scrunched up in confusion, only to relax as the memory of giving them away came back. You could still picture the sea of stressed faces in the exam hall, the clock ticking down, TAs patrolling the room.

Luckily, with your trusty cards, you managed to finish with 45 minutes to spare; you must have given them away in such a generous mood.

"Oh well, did my good deed for the day," you mused with a resigned sigh, kicking off your shoes and burrowing into the comfort of your blankets. Your phone in hand, you prepared for a well-deserved TikTok binge session.

A few weeks had passed since you first discovered Miles' account. Today, your scrolling came to a halt as his face appeared in a new update. He was outdoors, away from the familiar confines of his dorm room, his cheeks tinted with excitement and a hint of nervousness.

As Miles began to speak, the world around him faded into insignificance. He was sharing a story about his crush, each word pulling you deeper into the narrative.

You leaned in, captivated, as he recounted the events, oblivious to everything else but his story unfolding on your screen.

He described the moment with a sense of wonder in his voice. "They were one of the first to finish the exam," he said, his eyes lighting up at the memory. "As they walked up the lecture hall, they made eye contact with me. Just for a second, they slowed down..."

You could almost see it happening—the quiet of the exam hall, the tension in the air, Miles sitting there, lost and overwhelmed. Then they appeared in his story, a momentary savior with a simple question that changed everything.

Miles' voice softened, a smile creeping into his tone. "They mouthed, 'Do you need notes?' I just nodded, too stunned to speak. And then, they did the most amazing thing." He paused, as if reliving the kindness in his mind. "They dropped the notecard near my foot, pretending to pick it up for me. Like it was mine all along."

You pictured the scene: their quick thinking, the subtle exchange of the notecard, the careful glance to ensure they weren’t caught. It was a scene straight out of a movie, and you were captivated by every detail.

"Their smile..." Miles continued, a dreamy quality in his voice. "It was so genuine, so kind. For a moment, my heart just... stopped. And when it started again, it was like a drum in my chest."

You could feel his confusion, his awe, the rush of emotions that must have coursed through him. The way he described it, you were right there in that lecture hall, watching the scene unfold, feeling his heart skip and restart.

As he recounted the moment, an unexpected memory flashed through your mind. You saw yourself back in the mythology exam room, finishing early. Your attention was drawn to a figure hunched over in the corner.

A boy, unmistakably overwhelmed, with his hoodie drawn over his head and his leg tapping out a nervous rhythm against the floor.

The scene was crystal clear in your mind—the palpable sense of his distress pulled at your heartstrings.

You recalled every detail... his slouched posture, the way his hoodie shadowed his face, his leg nervously bouncing as he stared down at an exam paper, still on the first page.

Your footsteps slowed as you approached, noticing his pencil tapping against the small foldable desk in a frantic tempo. When he sensed your presence, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours in a moment of silent communication.

In a hushed tone, barely above a whisper, you asked, "Do you need notes?" His nod was all the confirmation you needed. You quickly devised a plan, crouching beside him and pretending to pick up the notecard you had secretly folded in your hand.

You were acutely aware of the TA's watchful eyes pausing their patrol, scrutinizing your interaction for any signs of cheating.

You flashed an innocent smile to the TA, then turned back to the boy, saying softly, "Here, your notecard fell under your seat." Placing the cards gently in his hands, you offered him a reassuring smile before gathering your belongings to leave.

Snapped back to the present by Miles' voice on your phone, the pieces suddenly clicked together. As the realization dawned on you, the video became a distant drone in the background. That boy was Miles.

You were the one who helped him. He was the boy you helped.

Your heart raced as everything clicked into place. The crush Miles had been talking about all this time... it was you.

In a daze, you dropped your phone, the reality of the situation crashing over you like a wave. He likes you. Miles, the earnest, kind-hearted boy from TikTok, likes you.

"Hold up... HE LIKES ME!?!" The thought sent you rolling onto your stomach, screeching into your pillow in disbelief. "That hot piece of a man likes me!?"

After a moment of wild disbelief, you slowly sat up, a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your head. What should you do? Should you reach out to him? The thought of initiating contact with Miles, knowing he had feelings for you, sent a thrill of excitement mixed with nervousness through you.

As you contemplated your next move, a sense of anticipation built within you. This wasn’t just a story unfolding on your phone screen anymore; it was happening to you.

And somehow, that made it all the more exhilarating.

Gathering up courage you didn't know you had, you decided to take a leap of faith.

With a mix of nervousness and excitement, you typed out a message to Miles on TikTok, your fingers hesitating slightly over the send button.

butt-____-nna Did the notecards help?

The question felt both monumental and incredibly simple.

You glanced at your own TikTok profile—less than two followers, a single grainy video, a username that now seemed embarrassingly childish, and an anime icon.

The vulnerability of reaching out to someone like Miles, who seemed so put together, suddenly hit you.

Almost an hour ticked by with no response, the silence stretching out uncomfortably. Each minute felt longer than the last, filling you with doubt.

Finally, Miles' reply came through:

milesmorales Yeah, it did. Statistics is a tough course.

Confusion furrowed your brow. You typed back, trying to keep your tone light despite the mix-up:

butt-____-nna Stat? The only notes I gave out were for mythology. So, if you used it for that, sorry to say, but you failed, bud.

You hit send, and then there was nothing but silence.

Miles' profile went inactive.

A heavy sigh escaped you as you berated yourself for possibly jumping to conclusions.

It was a huge college, and you weren't the only one helping others during finals.

Laughing at yourself for even entertaining the thought, you swiped off the app and impulsively deleted it, your heart sinking just a bit.

But just before the app disappeared, a new text notification from Miles appeared, lost amidst your hasty decision.

You didn't see it, consumed by your self-doubt and the decision to move on, leaving the possibility of what might have been with Miles unanswered.

The following week, as you return to your mythology class to discuss a possible makeup exam with your professor, a hooded figure sitting near the door catches your attention.

You take the empty seat next to them, unaware of their sudden tenseness and subtle shift in posture.

Lost in your own world, you mindlessly scroll through your phone, diving into the latest #fnafxreader stories.

Your AirPods are in, blaring Keane's "Frog Prince." The lyrics resonate with you in the moment—"Your prince's crown...Cracks and falls down...Your castle hollow and cold."

Meanwhile, the figure next to you is engrossed in their own phone. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a text popping up on your phone from the dorm floor group chat. It's about Miles going live.

For a brief second, you consider redownloading TikTok to join in, but the gripping Michael Afton x reader fanfic you're reading—as well as lingering embarrassment—holds your attention too tightly.

You make a mental note to ask your dorm-floor friends for a recap later—they're just as obsessed with this cute TikTok love story as you are, and you've spent many evenings in the lounge room discussing it. So, with a swipe, you dismiss the notification and dive back into your story, the intriguing plotline drawing you in once more.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the terror that coursed through your veins. Blood trickled from the cuts scattered across your body, the result of your desperate attempts to escape. Gasping for breath, you glanced at your watch: 5:25 AM. "Just 35 minutes to go," you told yourself, your mind clinging to the hope of surviving until dawn. You pushed forward, your feet pounding against the cold, hard floor of the empty corridor. The eerie silence was punctuated only by your labored breathing and the distant, ominous hum of the pizzeria. You could almost feel the malevolent gaze of the animatronics lurking in the shadows. As you turned a corner, a chilling sound froze you in your tracks—the unmistakable metallic thunks of someone, or something, pursuing you. Panic surged through you. "Shit, shit, shit," you cursed under your breath, your eyes desperately searching for a haven. Spotting a room nearby, you lunged towards it, slamming the door shut behind you. From beyond the door, a hauntingly familiar voice sang out. "____~" Michael's voice was taunting, playful yet sinister. "It's not nice to run away during a playdate~" Your eyes narrowed, and your lips pressed into a thin line as his words seeped into your ears, sending shivers down your spine. Memories flooded back to the day you saw Michael's true nature—the day he and your brother cruelly played with little Evan, placing his head inside the mechanical Fazbear's head. That moment should have been a warning sign of the madness lurking within Michael, but you never anticipated how his obsession would turn toward you. Now, trapped in your role as a security officer at the pizzeria, you found yourself not only evading the demonic animatronics but also Michael, whose fixation had morphed into a deadly game of cat and mouse. The room you'd taken refuge in felt claustrophobic, the air thick with tension. You pressed your back against the door, listening intently to the sounds outside. Every creak and whisper heightened your fear, and you braced yourself for what might come next. This pizzeria, once a place of joy and laughter, had become a labyrinthine nightmare, and escaping unscathed felt more impossible with each passing second. BAM—the door...

The intensity of the fanfic was cut short by your notification bar going off incessantly. There were so many messages coming in from the group chat that you could hardly read a thing.

With a huff, you clicked off the fanfic to see what all the fuss was about. "It better not be another fire drill because someone was smoking," you bitterly thought, recalling the last time you all had to stand out in the cold at 3 in the morning because someone smoked in the dorms.

As you opened the group chat, you were bombarded with messages, all talking about Miles' current live session. The excitement in the chat was palpable, but you couldn't help feeling a bit detached, still nursing the sting of your recent embarrassment.

Just as the flurry of texts seemed to slow down, you finally had a moment to catch up on a few messages before another wave hit.

Toni No because Miles is freaking out on live because he sees his crush and doesn't know what to do!!

Kiko Didn't he post earlier that he think he might have gotten in contact with them recently???

The chat erupted again before you could process this.

Kyi The live is BOOOMING! AHHHH! WAIT HE SAID HE'S LOGGING OFF AND FINNA SPEAK AJUSHGSBSBHSA

Your curiosity piqued, but before you could delve deeper, a deluge of new messages flooded the chat, making it nearly impossible to keep up.

You started to type a message, asking for more details, but were interrupted by a throat-clearing sound.

You looked up, wide-eyed, half-expecting to see your professor giving you a disapproving look. It wouldn't be the first time you'd been caught off-guard while reading.

Instead, the source of the interruption wasn't your professor at all; it was the figure seated to your left.

Turning your head, your lips pulled into a slight pout, a mixture of frustration from the incessant chatter in the chat and the unexpected disturbance.

As your gaze settled on the person next to you, your brain took a moment to register who it was.

It was Miles.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

There, in the flesh, was Miles, the same guy you'd been reading about, discussing with friends, and watching from afar on TikTok. He was right beside you, the subject of the flurry of messages on your phone.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you were speechless, the line between the virtual world and reality blurring strikingly.

Miles' eyes roamed over your face, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real. He cleared his throat again, looking away briefly as his ears and the apples of his cheeks flushed a light pink. "I-..." He paused, collecting his thoughts, then met your eyes again, his expression morphing into a half-cute, boyish smile. "Thanks for the notecards. I still don’t get why our professor thought it was realistic to remember the birthplace of Odysseus's fake alias, Quintus Metellus, from The Odyssey. I mean, who actually remembers he claimed to be from Crete?" he joked.

You returned his smile, feeling a sense of ease. "Heh, I try. As you could see from those cards, I really didn’t want to fail."

Miles chuckled, sitting up straighter, a newfound confidence in his voice. "Hey, I don’t blame you. Honestly, if it wasn’t for you, I would’ve had to repeat this class, no joke."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you waved off his compliment. "Please," you giggled, "I've heard about you from one of my dormmates; you're practically a genius in chemistry. Acing exams, breezing through lectures, even correcting the professor once or twice."

At your words, Miles looked bashfully at you, his lips curling into a sweet smile, his head tilting slightly as he gazed at you, eyes wandering over your features—from your eyes to your nose, then your lips—as if trying to memorize every detail.

In his look, there was a sense of yearning and awe, reminiscent of how Hippolytus might have gazed upon the goddess Artemis in his final moments, a look filled with admiration for something pure and unattainable, his expression tinged with the bittersweet understanding of beauty admired under the shadow of an unjust fate.

This gaze, filled with a mix of reverence and a hint of sadness, seemed to say you were his Artemis, a figure of innocent wonderment amidst the complexities of his world.

"What?" you asked, raising an eyebrow to mask your growing fluster.

"It's just… you’re really cool," his voice carried a soft tone, mixed with endearment.

You smiled and shrugged lightly, a playful tone in your voice. "What can I say? I'm awesome."

A soft smile spread across Miles' face, his eyes softening in a way that left you momentarily breathless. The usual intensity that lingered in his gaze transformed into something tender, a warmth that seemed to reach out and touch you. "Yeah... you are," he said, his voice low and filled with a gentle observation that seemed to see not just you, but into you.

The way he said it, with such earnestness and a hint of awe, made your heart flutter in a way you hadn't anticipated. It was as if his words carried more than just a simple affirmation; they were laced with an unspoken admiration.

It was your turn to clear your throat and look away to try and compose yourself. Your thoughts were interrupted as the professor’s office door swung open and out walked a blonde-haired girl.

"Now Gwen, I want this to be the last year you retake my course—" Professor Osborn started, but Gwen cut him off with an exasperated sigh.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said dismissively. "But be real, Mr. Osborn. I wouldn't have to retake your course for the third time if the other subjects in your department were competent to teach their subjects."

"Yes, but focusing solely on mythological romances isn’t going to get you very far, Gwen. You need to balance it out with another course," the professor retorted.

Gwen sighed and waved a hand dismissively as she walked away. "Yeah, got it," she mumbled, her gaze briefly landing on you and Miles.

There was a momentary linger in her eyes, especially on Miles, before she continued on her way.

Professor Osborn cleared his throat, calling up Miles and apologizing for the delay. "No problem, sir," Miles reassured him, getting up to follow. He slowed his steps as he reached you, leaning in slightly. "I'll wait for you after your appointment, yeah?"

You could only muster a nod, still finding everything surreal. As Miles walked into the professor’s office, you were left alone with your thoughts, the weight of the moment settling around you.

You realized that this wasn’t just a fleeting encounter; it felt like the beginning of something new, something real.

As you waited for your turn with the professor, your mind raced with possibilities. The unexpected twist of fate that brought you and Miles together in this academic setting, away from the screens and chats, felt like something out of a story.

Yet, here you were, living it.

When your appointment with the professor ended, you stepped out, finding Miles waiting as promised. His smile was warm, inviting, and for the first time, you felt a sense of excitement about what lay ahead. "Wanna grab lunch in the U-Center?" he asked, and you couldn't help but smile back, nodding in agreement.

As you walked alongside Miles, chatting about mythology, classes, and everything in between, you realized that sometimes, life has a way of bringing stories off the screen and into reality.

And perhaps, just maybe, this was the start of your own real-life story.

A/N: ahahaahah. not me indulging in college romance. y'all im just out here being delusional and need and outlet 💀💀

287 notes · View notes

highhhfiveee · 1 year ago

Note

Imagine having to explain to Mike what a Gyatt is😭😭

and the fact that it's not even a noun, but like...an expression. don't get me started lmao. it's like 'GYAT!" 😃

tags: fluff [: (sweet discussions and fun talk of rollercoasters. abby is me, conked out after a twelve hour six flags day).

it'd been a fun saturday; you, mike, and abby had all gone to the popular amusement park in the city, sweating in the lengthy queue lines and pigging out on fried snacks and sweets that made your stomachs gurgle after each ride.

you'd gotten back home late, and abby had fallen asleep in the car, leaving you two to put her to bed before winding down yourselves.

you and mike shower together, pressing your bodies close and massaging at the other's muscles, aiding the scorching water in washing away the tension of activity.

afterwards, you two retreat to your room and slip into your pajamas lethargically, recollecting on the day's thrills. mike falls to the bed as he pulls his shirt over his chest, resting his back against the headboard and grabbing for his phone settled on the nightstand. "'the deep dive' was your favorite?"

you're sitting on your side of the bed, gathering your hair and securing it all at the top of your head before tying your scarf around it. you turn to mike with squinted eyes, challenging, "how could it not be? a 90 degree drop into the ground is crazy. it makes me see stars every time."

mike protests with a squeak, muttering, "eh. that's just it's gimmick. other than that, it's just a glorified 'kinder circuit'" as he stares down at his phone.

"do not compare it to a kid's rollercoaster, mike. that's insulting," you muse playfully, beginning to spread lotion over your arms and hands.

"yeah, yeah," he stalely sighs as his thumb tracked over his phone screen time and time again after a short burst of noise. lately, he'd been prone to doomscrolling on tiktok, hooked after abby had shown him a lot of videos from her for you page, and now, he's furrowing his eyes at videos and replies using this slang he's never heard before.

"do you know what a...'gyat' is?" he questions, trying out the word on his tongue in a few different inflections. "is it like 'guy-yat'? they're saying it like 'guy-yat' in all these videos."

you take a deep breath, rolling your eyes in annoyance as you finish rubbing lotion into the skin of your legs and crawl up to the top of the bed to snuggle into mike's shoulder. "it's not a noun. it's really shortened AAVE, like...'gotdamn', but using it as a noun is its appropriated form."

mike hums, letting out a light chuckle at the frivolity of social media. you go over the term with him, showing him what it really sounds like and means, and he copies you, making you giggle.

"okay, that makes sense. seeing...'latina gyatt' did not make me feel good and now i know why," you full on belly-laugh then, sliding down on the sheets until your head is resting on mike's chest where you feel his own boisterous joy rumble through your cheek.

"well that's good. i can't let you go around being uninformed." mike grins down at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and giving your torso a gentle squeeze. with a tired tone, he mutters, "mmmm, and that's why i love you, baby."

okie short and sweet [: hope you all enjoyed!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf-@jun1p3rlol-@xyzstar-@aquamarine001-@atrociouslybear-@ickleronniekinsemotionalrange

#fnaf #fnaf fic #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt fluff #faire is writing stuff #faire answers asks #faire’s mike schmidt <3 #faire says #we love cute shit #and i love rollercoasters tbh #someone get me six flags STAT

179 notes · View notes

simpshiggyy · 6 months ago

Text

School Girl Crush

-pairing: emo boy! choso kamo x f!reader

-summary: this guy has the locker above mine and I love the way he looks down at me to talk. it makes me wanna suck his soul right there that instant.

-warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, emo boy! choso, public sex, oral (m! receiving), pet names (pretty girl and good girl), mdni

-wc: 1.3k

Not spell checked so there may be some misspelled words!

The final bell ring echoes throughout the facility telling everyone that it's time to leave for the day. You collect your things and place them into your bag so that you can head towards your locker. You're bag isn't quite big enough so you have to hold two of your bigger books on their own. Heading to your locker is definitely a trip on it's own considering it's at the back corner of the building. You don't mind it though. Nobody wants to make that trip when they can have their locker closer to their classes. Maybe four people actually use these back lockers and one of them have always caught your eye. You crouch down onto your knees since your locker is on the floor. Placing each book neatly into the small space. That is until you fell a presence behind you.

"Excuse me" the deep, husky voice says. Chills run up your spine knowing exactly who it is.

You look up and your eyes meet with his. It's Choso Kamo. You like to describe him as the hot emo boy while your friends say he looks tall, dark, and spooky. Just how you like them. He's not the most social or outgoing so your friends don't really understand your appeal towards him. He's just so fucking hot.

A wave of heat hits your face. "So sorry I can move out of the way" you start to say as you begin to slide out of the way.

"Don't worry. I can reach over you to get to my locker" he replies. You continue to look at him as he looms over you. He reaches to place his books into his locker before looking back down at you. "Do you have any plans this weekend?"

"Just playing some video games with a couple of friends. How about you?" you reply. There was something about the way he looked down at you while you two were at your lockers. His dark hair is kept in a spikey up-do while his bangs rest gently on his forehead.

"I was thinking about doing the same thing. How about we play games together some time?"

The next few minutes of talking with your little crush definitely took a turn for the best. He's got you shoved against the lockers kissing on your neck, strong veiny hands gripping the plush of your hips. You can't help but run your fingers through his hair with slight tugs when he starts to suck on the sensitive skin.

Choso shifts to lock lips with you. Quiet moans from the both of you as you move a free hand down his toned abs covered by a thin fabric to finally reach the bulge in his pants. You palm him while kissing him oh so deeply. You always thought about doing this but never saw it as becoming reality. Who knew that talking to Choso about playing some silly little game would result in you being in this situation.

He pulls away from the heated kiss much to your disappointment. That is until he speaks. "How about you get down on your knees and be a good girl for me huh?"

Your cheeks flush red from the sudden pet name. You nod and start to lower yourself until he moves a hand up to grip your throat. "You're capable of using words right? I know that you've been eyeing me for months now. You aren't very subtle about it. Tell me that you'll be a good girl for me and suck me off."

The sudden change in his tone made your legs quiver. The way he was so assertive with you in the moment was making you go crazy. "I-I'll be a good girl for you Cho."

A smirks appears from him. "Good."

He releases his grip from your throat encouraging you to lower onto your knees. Looking up at him you start to undo his black jeans. Seeing the bulge through his boxers was intimidating. You pull his boxers down causing his cock to spring out hitting his covered stomach.

Fuck. It's bigger than you thought it could possibly be.

Wrapping a hand around the girth and giving his tip a delicate kiss. You can hear a small moan escape his lips. You want to tease him but anticipation of this moment takes over. You wrap your lips around him moving your tongue around his length. Adjusting to him was hard and he was getting even harder at the sight.

"Ugh you're so pretty with your lips wrapped around me." Choso says as he runs his fingers though your hair with one hand. The other hand grabbing his shirt and lifting it up to get a better view.

While trying to adjust to his size it feels as if you're going painfully slow for his liking. Your head bobs on his cock. Slurping up any saliva that tries to escape your lips. Choso grabs a fist full of your hair causing you to moan. Vibrations from the back of your throat going against his throbbing tip.

Choso grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls your head back. "Stick your tongue out for me baby.... just like that" he says in a sultry voice. He glides his thumb over your tongue and slaps his dick tip onto your tongue a couple of times before face fucking you. He ruts into you causing you to become a moaning, gagging mess. Drool pools out onto his dick and onto the floor.

Vibrations from your moans onto his dick is making him go crazy. The sight of you looking up at him through your lashes with tears in your eyes just does something to him. He could cum right then and there if he really wanted to.

"You're so nasty for me right now. I should've done this forever ago." Hips bucking at you eagerly. Your hands on his thighs, nails digging into the fabric of his jeans. The feeling of you clawing at his legs just about sends him over the edge.

He loosens his grip on your hair when he feels one of yours hands reach up to feel his tense abs and the other wraps around his girth. You start stroking his cock and wrapping your lips completely around him. Slurping and moaning against him at almost the same speed he was thrusting into your mouth.

He drags out a long moan when you bottom out on him. The feeling was just too much for him. "F-fuckkkk." You can feel him twitch at the feeling. "I think i'm gonna cum pretty girl."

As soon as he says this you suction around his length, dragging back on it resulting in a wet 'POP'. Another moans drags out of his lips. Looking up at him stroking his cock with both of your hands now. "Do you want me to help you cum Cho?"

He looks down at you flushed. "Make me cum pretty girl. You deserve it." With that being said you spit on his tip earning another moan from him. You stroke the saliva all over his throbbing cock and you can feel him twitch against you. "Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck" he says.

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out invitingly. He grabs another fistful of your hair and angles his tip at your tongue. Cum shoots out onto your tongue, dripping down with how much there was. Stroking him and milking every last bit of cum from his pretty cock. Swallowing what you can and then swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip to get every last drop.

"So, you still thinking about playing some games with me tonight?" You say in a teasingly way.

"I think we can head back to my place and do a lot more than play games pretty girl. How's that sound?"

"Sounds perfect."

#choso #choso kamo #choso smut #jjk choso #jjk x reader #jjk smut #choso x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x female reader

66 notes · View notes

totothewolff · 5 months ago

Text

The Speed Game of Love

Toto x reader | comedy, crack humor (RuPaul's Drag Race bang), romance, fluff.

Summary: Three fierce queens will race for your love, but only one will win your heart. Could it be the spicy Carla LaTurbo Slayz, the fierce Adore D. Hammer, or the queen of England herself, GiGi Reigns? Or maybe that sexy host could get some! Hosted by the hot and only Toto Wolff. Author's note: It's short and fun. Y/N has the hots for Toto, as usual. Who doesn't?! Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts or if you have an idea, here I am."

More Toto Wolff fics right here > Masterlist

From the racing capital of the world is The Speed Game of Love.

And here is your host...

The hot and only Toto Wolff.

(Opening music plays, and the camera pans over the bright and sparkling stage. Toto Wolff is standing there in fullness, tallness, and hotness, just a few steps away from you. As you peek in from behind the entrance, he is looking as sexy as you expected that man to be, dressed in a sluty tight suit, his eyes set on you for a brief second making your knees and other regions jiggle as he starts the show).

"Welcome to the Speed Game of Love. I'm your hot, I mean host! Toto Wolff." he winks at you before moving to his mark at the cue.

(Cheers, gaps, and a loud moan come from the sound effect console as Toto passes a hand on his hair and smiles big and bright straight at the pro camera).

"Let's meet tonight's lucky heartracers!" he gestures with both arms to his left.

(Cut to a shot of the competitors, each one dressed in their best sickening drag looks, all sitting in white bar stool chairs next to each other)

"It's the Queen of tracks! And hearts! Adore D. Hammer!" Toto approaches a fierce-looking queen. "Ready to smash some?" Toto raises his eyebrows as he asks.

"Oh, dear, I'm more than keen for some hammer time!" Adore answers, thrusting with her hips slowly.

She's rocking a sparkly, sluty version of the iconic jumpsuit in neon yellow and black from MC Hammer's iconic "U Can't Touch This" music video, but cinched for the gods along with really high-platform sneakers.

The jumpsuit is embellished with rhinestones and sequins that shimmer and shine under the stage lights. Adore's dreadlocks hung loose around her ears but with a glamorous, over-the-top twist.

Her makeup is bold and bright, with bold eyeliner, vibrant eyeshadow, and a shining golden lip. Her skin is glowing with a subtle shimmery highlight that makes her look like she just stepped out of a disco ball.

Toto gives her a chuckle before moving along.

"Next, Carla LaTurbo Slayz!" He strolls to her, mic in hand. "Miss Turbo, I heard you got some horsepower tonight! How are you, honey?"

(After he asks the question, a loud moan is heard as a sound effect).

"I'm 'fuel'-tastic, Toto!" she blows a kiss to the camera and shows some lil' leg.

She's rocking a stunning, one-shoulder gown made from the finest silk in a rich, jewel-toned red that evokes the majestic flamenco dancers of Andalusia. The dress is fitted and figure-hugging, accentuating her curves in all the right places.

Her hair is a masterpiece; a few strategically placed braids and hairpins add a touch of Andalusian flair.

Her eyes are lined with bold, black kohl and smudged with shimmery gold eyeshadow to create a sultry, seductive gaze. Her lips are painted a deep, crimson red. Her accessories are chunky gold jewelry.

"Up next, it's GiGi Reigns. Is Your Highness ready to conquer this race?" Toto turns to her, bowing first.

"Keen to have a smooth pit stop and a great finish!" an old lady's voice with a thick Windsor accent answers.

She is rocking a look that's equal parts regal and ridiculous. She's donning a velvet-trimmed corset and hoop skirt that's so big it requires its own zip code.

The skirt is a riot of colors, with florals and patterns. GiGi's hair is a marvel; think Elizabeth I's famous ruff but on steroids! Her locks are styled in towering curls that resemble a pompadour.

Her makeup is a masterpiece of over-the-top opulence. Layers of foundation, blush, and powder are applied with the precision of the era, but they make her look old, really old, with wrinkles adorning her features.

Her accessories are an array of fake pearls that look like they belong on the Queen herself.

"Let's start your engines! Close that pit wall!" Toto instructs as the obstructing divider slides from the wall. It looks exactly like a pit wall fence but glamorous, all in metallic pink, blocking the view from both sides.

As you are about to enter the stage, an empty, small white podium is waiting for you.

"Our wag tonight is from (Y/N's City/Country). Meet (Y/N's profession/studies), Y/N, Y/LN!" Toto introduces you as you step in, smiling at him.

"Mmm, you look good!" Toto runs his eyes all over your body as he approaches you and offers a hand to help you step on the podium.

You feel the heat instantly.

"What brings you smoking gear around here? Did your engine overheat?" Toto addresses you, starting to lean closer to you.

"I'm just looking for touch at this point!" you answer, plain and honest.

(Aww noises come from the sound effect panel).

"Uhmmhu!" Toto gets closer to you than his mark on the floor suggests. He gestures to you to articulate more as he stands by your side, slowly sliding a hand down on your back.

How you react to his touch makes him smile naughtily.

In between a nervous giggle, you explain: "I tried the apps and whatnot, but nothing worked, so my friends suggested I come here to speed up the process. You know, to look for something accelerated, fast-paced." You wink at him, gaining confidence, feeling his eyes traveling down your lips and neck.

"Oh, so you like it fast-paced? Who doesn't like to get their flag chequered hard!" Toto keeps your game of innuendos, flirting with you along.

You nod and bite your lip; he arches his eyebrow slightly.

"Then, you came to the right place!" his voice is deep, and he flexes his arm so you can enjoy the view of his muscles as Toto grabs his mic. "So, Y/N, here's how the game works: You ask the heartracers some questions, and they will try to win this lap for your heart with their answers. When the time runs out, you choose who steps into your podium. Are you ready to race?"

"I AM!" you feel pumped up!

(Engine noises are heard in the studio, indicating the start of the lap).

You read one of your cue cards. "Heartracer number one, finish the following sentence: If I was your car to run me on a race, you would leave me (blank...) at the end."

"In desperate need of a new set of wheels. Oh! I would run you relentlessly from one side of the circuit to the other!" Adore answers, jumping on her feet and doing the iconic MC Hammer moves, passing by in front of the other contestants.

You laugh and nod at the excellent answer. "And you, number two?"

"I would leave you revving for more! You would want me to run you down over and over again around these corners." LaTurbo answers with a very sexual voice, sliding her hand all over her body curves.

"And you, madam, number three?" you ask.

"At the finish line... eventually! I'm a lady of a certain age, darling." GiGi Reigns' elderly voice answers, making you and Toto burst into giggles.

"If it was me, I would have you shifting gears so hard that I would end up breaking you down. But that's me!" Toto jokes, inserting his answer there. "Let's move on to the next question, shall we, Y/N?"

"YES! Let me push that pedal all the way in!" you joke back.

"All the way in?!" Toto asks, now curious, in a high-pitched voice. "Fast-paced and all the way in. Taking notes!" He swaps his cue cards around.

"I think that one's hammer is starting to show! Haha," GiGi Reigns adds, inserting herself into the conversation, bumping Adore with her hand, and both of them taking a small peek at Toto's crotch.

"Please, give head, go ahead, I meant!" Toto jokes with you.

"Based on yourself, how would you prefer to be called if you were a fuel brand?" you ask the contestants.

"Piston Pumping, you gotta keep the hammering for miles long!" Adore gives her answer in perfect branding.

"Fuel-in' Around, just kidding," Carla waves her hand.

"The Lube for The Crown, cause at this age, darling, you need some extra help." GiGi slowly spreads open her legs, making rusted noises, cracking you up again.

"I'd be, Fuel Me Maybe, you know, like tonight, after this show," Toto flirts shamelessly as the game progresses, making it clear that he's interested in none other than you.

"Final question," you go ahead. "Imagine you are an F1 team. Sell yourself to me."

"On the Hammerella F1 Team, competition can't touch us! We are faster than you can say parachute pants!" Adore D. Hammer answers.

"On El Toro Racing, we are unleashing the bull full speed, with fury and passion and with a whole lot of rhythm, ahhhh." Carla LaTurbo's every word gets more sexual somehow as she answers your question, her hands going all over her neck and legs.

Finally is GiGi's turn: "On the Motor on the Bus, The Queen's Royal Racing Team, we race round and round, vroom and vroom, all through the town." She pauses before adding, "But with protocol, dear."

GiGi's stupid answer makes you gag.

"Oh, time is up! Y/N, who do you choose from our heartracers? Number one, two or three?" Toto comes near to you again.

Fuck! He smells so good! That's an arousing cologne.

(A dramatic pause comes before you turn straight at him to give your definitive answer).

"You," you point at Toto. "I choose you!" answering aloud to everyone's... actually... to no one's surprise!

"I'd love to take you for some good ol' laps!" he blows a kiss to you. "But first, let's meet the ones you didn't choose! Say hello to Adore D. Hammer."

"Oh! This hammer would have broken you in half, dear!" she jokes with you as she looks you up and passes along, thrusting the air on her way out.

"and Carla LaTurbo Slayz," Toto again shouts, extending his arm.

"This," she closes her hand at you, moving it around your body, "Has red flag all over," she says, belittling you as she goes out, pretending to be insulted by you rejecting her.

"Finally, GiGi Reigns! Madam..." Toto bows one last time.

GiGi takes her time walking there, making grunt noises as she grabs her back, complaining, making you two lose it.

"I, TOO, CAN COMMAND THE WIND, SIR!" She screams out of nowhere in the most Shakespearean voice, catching you two off guard.

Like GiGi got possessed for a second before she composes herself and gives "royal hand waves" politely as she dramatically exits.

"WHHAAT?" you say, catching your breath between laughs.

"Ready to blow my engine?" Toto triumphantly asks, holding you up like a trophy as he wraps his arm around your waist.

"Against the pit wall?!" you joke around, laughing on his lips, standing next to it.

"Another Speed Game of Love with a... happy ending! To me!" Toto winks. "Good night, everybody!"

(You two wave at the lense before you wrap him in a passionate kiss as the camera cuts to black)

You don't make it further than his dressing room.

The audio crew picks up the loud moans and smashing noises coming from there, as Toto is still wired, and they quickly turn off the equipment.

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

55 notes · View notes

joaofelix70 · 1 year ago

Text

A CRESCENT LOVE, AN EPHEMERAL PASSION | joão félix sequeira.

summary: you and joão spent all the summer together. you even met his friends and brother. could this be the beginning of a crescent love or just an ephemeral passion? his friendship with his ex would ruin everything between the two of you?

author's notes: after the win against luxemburgo, where portugal national team set the record of goals, his ex just posted "mysterious" pics with floki, his dog. joão was also there, almost hidden, actually. we all know she always does it, never assuming anything maturely, but instigating the frustration of the fans who care about him and to make every gossip website and tv show talk about it, just like a teenager who wants attention would act. basically, this inspired me. i really don't hate anyone, by the way. even thought influencers who don't spread any impactful content and nepobabies with no talent and only standard beauty annoys me, i can't lie.

warnings: bad language (of course it's joão saying the words), chaotically humorous almost all the time, but also involving sadness and angst. implicit sex reference, i guess? maybe?

what do you feel when you hear my name? shame? embarrassment?

does your brain even bring you any sign or memory involving me?

do you ever think about me?

are your moments with her comparable to ours?

can we talk? can we communicate?

is it my fault? do you miss me?

your head was drunk for the whirlwinds of questions that piled up and get bigger, like waves. they seemed to be drowning you. the glowing light and peace of your woody brown gaze gives you triggers. his smile remains embedded, in your heart, an eternal home. the numbness and wrapping of his lips, every inch of his tanned skin and firm muscles being appreciated and admired by you. his hair was shiny, soft and full by the salty waters of the european beaches: always caressed for you. his laughs at you giving him the most silly and lazy hairstyles, with you pretending to be a professional who was filming your customer to tiktok.

“do that pose! yes, your hand against your face! now, give me that playboy eye. just like that! you’re doing amazing, sweetie!”

when you get carried away in the game ‘who am i?’ and tried so hard doing the mimes, jumping excitedly and demonstrating your animation in a loud tone, before covering your own mouth and feigning naturalness, just to repeat the same instant acts.

when you made joão watch your random dances as soon as you won at uno and he’d tell how hilarious you were. when you cooked your regional foods and desserts for félix, his brother who’s hugo, alex — the photographer — diogo from the movemind channel and all of his friends. when he used to hold your face, rest his touch on your waist and thighs. tracing his fingerprints across your scalp, reveling in the ethereal smell of your hair, laying his lips against your entire face and stature, exalting you completely: from your ears, neck, collarbone, belly, legs and even your feet. being a gentleman, joão opened the car door for you, he intertwined the hands of you both in every single opportunity and helped you eat: having the cutlery for you to open your mouth and giving you support with the napkin. when you did his goal celebration. when the two of you invented a handshake, along with various inside jokes. for example, when joão posted many videos of him swimming and playing in the ocean.

“hey, flounder! ‘the little mermaid’? i loved it!”

“why am i not your ariel, tho?”

“why you didn’t say you’d prefer to be eric of the real life?”

“give me some respect, i’m the protagonist of this shit!”

“slay, king!”

you remember singing the songs that played in his car in the most chaotic way, using his hand as a microphone and taking the opportunity to kiss all over it and his fancy bracelets. you offered him affection biting his skin and enjoyed acting like his personal masseuse. you called him ‘my prince of portugal’.

“please, don’t become a stranger.” your last words, face to face. the intensity of the summer weeks of vacation, which were already ending, consuming you.

“you know i’d never do that. look, you’re such a unique person, and even though we’re gonna go back to our busy routines, i still wanna keep you in my life. i still wanna be that close to you.” joão declared and they both found comfort in each other’s arms. his perfume granted the beg leave and penetrated your lungs, giving you life. you felt like you shouldn’t let it go, but there was nothing else to accomplish. you were single, so was he. you ask yourself if everything would be different. maybe if you had tried your lips once again: asking him to give a chance to them, to have more. to not leave what you went through, together, in the box of forgotten memories. would that really suffice, though?

"it's obvious that you’d choose the blonde influencer with light eyes, slender body and member of a rich family. the one who was with a formula 1 racer days before she went to meet you. before you just disappear from my life, without saying anything. the one that doesn't show an ounce of authenticity and, of course, affective responsibility. who am i in comparison to her?! right, joão?" your voice flashed the disparity of fragility and indignation, trembling hands clutching the phone.

“y/n, listen to me. you’d never understand it, okay? you’re not inside this relationship, me and her are. you’re seeing it from the outside, just like everyone else. yeah, she was hanging out and making out with other people. so was i with you. but then, some things changed.” john seemed to be busy. echoes of other people's voices ran through the call.

“nothing has happened between us since the vacation, joão. what doesn’t make sense because i thought you were liking me. i only think about you!” you vented out and received silence. his answers tried to become existent and complete. he stammered, the audible sound of his familiar backwards cap being pulled off and his honey-colored hair being rubbed against his own fingerprints.

“do you think i don’t like you? holy shit, y/n. i even thought we could have so much more. a future together and everything. i think about you and i swear in the name of my family, and i already said that they mean the fucking world to me. the thing is: there’s something that still keep me going back to her. i don’t know if it’s because i’m with her since i was younger, but…”

“joão, this is emotional dependence. i’m sorry to tell you this, however, it’s necessary. i care about you. you’re so internally and externally beautiful, precious, successful and talented. you deserve better!” you interrupted him, stepping back and forth.

“y/n, i love her. when i looked at you…”

“she’s all that you see, right?”

“hm… yeah…” félix found himself in a bind. paralyzed, he remained without an answer for a while. the coldness of the material of his gold necklace touches his tongue: a way to combat the nervousness that generates the gnawed nails.

“my toxic behavior wants to help and fix you so badly, but i know i can’t get more involved than that. i’m not the one for you.” the words reproduced by yourself reinforced the fragmentation of your heart.

“j, baby… are you coming or not? i’m waiting for you, floki is waiting for his dad!” you heard that female voice call to him and realized the way that just this factor made his breathing destabilize.

“i think this is officially the end of whatever we had, joão. goodbye!” your voice was unstable and he realized it: sharp as deep, transparent and suffocating waters.

“i wish you the best, y/n. i apologize for not being what you expected, what you needed, and…”

“caralho, joão! que merda! (holy fuck, joão! what the hell?). come on, give me your phone!” the girl began to rant. her heels against the floor were exclamatory. she was running out of patience.

the call is over. again, you were superimposed on the ocean of blazing tears. you tried to convince yourself that everything went the way it was supposed to be.

but was it for real?

346 notes · View notes

bellabean24 · 9 months ago

Note

Can you do No 38? (nsfw alphabet) with Model Hakkai please!! 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🛐🛐

~Timeskip!Model!Hakkai Shiba x Reader

~Word Count:952

~Tags:Nsfw

~Headcanon Prompt List | Tokyo Revengers M.List

A-After Care [What they are like after sex]

Hakkai is so gentle with you after sex with you. He’ll caress your body as you come down from your high, he’ll whisper sweet nothings into your ear, he’ll wipe your body down with a warm towel while kissing your hickeys.

B-Body Part [Their favorite body part of yours and theirs]

His favorite body part of yours is definitely your chest, big or small he doesn’t care, as long as you let him suck on them and lay on them he is a happy man. Now his favorite body part of his is legs, weird but he loves that they are long and toned he especially loves when you hump his thigh.

C-Cum [Where they like to cum]

Hakkai like to cum on your face, he loves seeing his cum cover your face his white seed dripping from your cheeks down to your neck it gets him hard all over again.

D-Dirty Secret [Something they want to try but can't tell]

He wants you to peg him but he is too scared to tell you he thinks you might make fun of him, but you won’t cause you wouldn’t mind trying it.

E-Experience [How experienced they are]

Hakkai is semi-experienced. He’s not the type to fuck someone after talking for two minutes, he has to get to know you maybe make you his partner then he would sleep with them.

F-Favorite Position [How they like to fuck you]

Lotus flower and missionary, he loves looking at your face scrunching in pleasure and he has better access to your tittes. He also really loves the closeness.

G-Goofy [How serious/goofy they are during sex]

Hakkai is serious when you two are making sweet sensual love but when you two are just goofing around expect jokes and giggles, he likes making sex fun and maybe memorable.

H-Hair [How well groomed they are]

He has a little happy trail going on that leads to a trimmed bush. He once got really bored and shaved a heart, which caused you to laugh uncontrollably.

I-Intimacy [How intimate/romantics they are]

Hakkai can be really romantic. He will put rose petals, candles, soft music playing and a bottle of champagne. He doesn’t just do it on special days; this man will do it at least once a week.

J-Jack Off [Do they masturbate and how often]

He jacks off here and there and when he does he will send you a video of himself moaning your name.

K-Kink [How kinky they are]

Hakkai isn't really kinky, he is quite vanilla when it comes to sex but if you want to explore a more kinky side he will be happy to help.

L-Location [Where they like to fuck you]

He likes to fuck in the comfort of your home he likes keeping your sex lives private.

M-Motivation [What gets them going/turns them on]

You turn him on, not kidding. You can be doing something you do everyday and he will start to get hard, when you come out of the shower wet hair and damped skin wrapped up in a towel his cock is getting hard in his pants.

N-No [What are their turn offs]

Dirtiness, he doesn’t like when you don’t take care of yourself or when you just have bad hygiene.

O-Oral [Do they like to give or receive oral]

Hakkai likes to receive, only because you do it so well, he can have a long day at work. He'll go home and take a shower then ask for some head. But he will also give after you gave him head, as a thank you.

P-Pace [How fast/slow they are]

He is slow and sensual unless you’re begging him to go faster and harder, then he will comply.

Q-Quick [How long do they last]

Hakkai can last 15 minutes max, shorter if you're giving him head.

R-Risk [Do they take any risk]

No. He took a risk once when you came to one of his shows and he fucked you in the dressing room and got caught by one of the stage mangers, so he doesn’t take risk anymore.

S-Sharing [Would they share you like a threesome]

No. He feels that if you two are in a relationship, he should be the only one you're with and you should be the only one he is with, he doesn’t believe in open relationships.

T-Toys [Do they own/use toys]

He owns one pocket pussy and a vibrator for the time you both tried mutual masturbation. Now he will use the vibrator when he feels “Kinky.”

U-Underwear [Do they like lingerie]

He loves it. He buys you every pair of lingerie that he thinks will look good on you or he will have someone make it for him then give it to you to try on, of course it fits perfectly since he knows your measurements.

V-Volume [How loud they are]

Hakkai is quite loud, he moans, whimpers and groans, sometimes whines. He loves making noises for you.

W-Wild card [Random headcanon]

He loves to 69, when you want to give and get head. Hakkai really likes when you leave kiss marks all over his body, sometimes he wishes they would stay there forever.

X-X-Ray [What's going on under their clothes]

5 inches soft, 8 inches hard, not really thick/girthy but he is quite veiny Yk?

Y-Yearning [How high is their sex drive]

Quite normal, he likes to have sex at least twice a week maybe even once, he feels like sex shouldn’t be the main thing in your relationship.

Z-Zzz [How quickly do they fall asleep after]

He falls asleep after giving you care, then lights out.

©Bella2024

#Bella writes ʕ•̫͡•ʔ #hakkai shiba #hakkai x reader #hakkai x y/n #hakkai x you #hakkai shiba x reader #hakkai shiba x you #hakkai shiba x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyorev x you #tokyo revengers hakkai #tokyorev x y/n #anime imagines

87 notes · View notes

beauty-and-passion · 6 months ago

Note

This is going to sound really strange but the most recent GRWM video has. Some of the best Janus characterisation I think we’ve seen in a while?? Also he canonically sheds now, so

You are not wrong, anon: this is the best characterization in a while. It's way better than the last one, in which Janus was mostly a drunk idiot, and it's way worse than SvS. This one sits in the middle: it's not bad, it's not amazing. It's good.

Just like Mr. Sanders' last videos regarding Sanders Sides, this GRWM is okay. Not groundbreaking, not impressive, not deep, not stupid. Just okay.

And trust me, this is the best possible outcome! When I found out Thomas was planning a video with Janus and it was a GRWM and Janus had questions to answer... I wasn't just scared, oh no. I was absolutely terrified. I feared to see the destruction of Janus' character. I feared to see him being all like: "YASSS QUEEN all I love is WINE and nothing else, also being SASSY is my religion BIATCH".

And we got a bit of that, sure. But it was a bit, not the avalanche I expected. I was bearable.

After all, this is just a random video. There's nothing plot-related here. Heck, there's not even too much Sanders Sides stuff, because this GRWM clearly was Thomas' attempts to reconnect with the character. I shouldn't care too much about it. I shouldn't overanalyze it.

But you know me: you know I love to over-analyze. And if you know me, you also know that Remus is my favorite child, but Janus has a special place in my heart and if one little thing about him is off I will start rambling.

Hence why I will overanalyze the shit out of these 9 minutes of a video and I will do what I shouldn't do, i.e. look back into the past's characterization. Not for shaming Mr. Sanders for not remembering it (even if the videos still exist and he can watch them too if he wants), but to remind you all of Janus' personality. The public needs to remember what kind of character he was and who he became.

So I'll over-analyze everything and no, you can't escape. You're stuck with me here, so put your seatbelt on, because you're in for one of the things I love the most: talking about Janus.

The importance of nuance

Let's talk about make-up a little bit. Don't worry, by the end you will understand my point.

The current make-up isn't even comparable to the past one. And if a lot of people complain about it and prefer the old one, it's not because they're all demanding: it's because of nuances.

Let me explain and let's start with the current photo Mr. Sanders showed to promote the GRWM video:

If you look at this make-up, your eyes will inevitably be drawn towards that sharp black line. And as soon as you will look at it, you will immediately register it as a drawn line.

It's so clear and so evident it's a line, I can literally see the black liquid eyeliner, the tip and the hand tracing that line on Thomas' skin.

But this line isn't supposed to be a line: it's supposed to be/resemble a snake's mouth.

Now, look at the past make-up:

The line isn't sharp black: the line is nuanced. You can see a bit of brown and a hint of red/pink to give it depth and emphasize the shadow.

Also, this color is very similar to the little shadow given by Thomas' upper lip on the lower one, so it looks more natural against his skin tone. It doesn't seem like something added on him, but on something that was already part of him. And isn't that the goal of make-up? To add something and disappear, so people won't notice it exists in the first place?

Look at the eye as well: the past one is a softer, more nuanced pink. It looks more natural, against Thomas' skin tone. The present one is so dark, it looks more like a bad bruise.

So the problem with the current make-up isn't just that the colors aren't the same: it's that the current colors are too much. They're too sharp, too saturated and, consequently, too fake. It's clear that Thomas wears make-up, while in the past the blend was softer, the colors closer to Thomas' actual complexion. Consequently, the make-up faded and gave us an illusion of reality.

I know Mr. Sanders had skin conditions and everything, but I'm talking about colors and nuances here. Two things a make-up artist should know better than me, an idiot on the Internet who loves art, color theory and learns from artists on the web. You can obtain these things independently of the used products.

So my opinion on the make-up would be: please Mr. Sanders, switch for softer tones, no sharp black and no coral. Too much. Nuance is the key.

And not just for make-up.

---

The fakeness of reality tv

Janus enjoys reality television because nothing about it is real. His specific words are:

I very much enjoy reality television: the scheming, the plotting, the lying. Every person for himself and even on top of that, all of the production none of reality television is actually real. It's just delightful.

I get the idea behind it and I understand why Thomas thought it was a good choice. On paper, it works: Janus should enjoy this kind of show because it's made of lies and he's Deceit.

But if I follow this line of thought, I inevitably meet with Janus from Into the Unknown:

[Patton]: Well yeah I guess you'd like it, everyone all dressed up, disguised as someone else... [Janus]: How is it we've had so many of these visits and you still know so little about me?

Janus himself said that not everything associated with lies is something he enjoys. And it makes sense, because Logan too said the same thing in the last Aside:

"Is that all I am to you? The reading guy?"

So now I'm asking: why does he like reality tv? Just because it's fake? Then why is he so happy about it being fake? Reality tv should represent reality, it should mirror how society works. And thanks to SvS, we know Janus doesn't hold society into high consideration:

[Deceit]: Society itself is a lie! (...) You get enough people to share a piece of land and breathe the same air and... you've got a society. Why? It's just a bunch of people in the same general area. It's an abstract concept, as real as the monster under your bed! But we obey these rules or get punished for breaking them. All in the name of society. It's absurd and terrifying.

Just like society, reality tv has a group of people put together and they make a society. It's an abstract concept, as real as the monster under your bed. And these people must obey the rules or get punished for breaking them.

And yet, Janus doesn't think reality tv is "absurd and terrifying", but "delightful".

Again: why does he like it? Why does he like something so similar to what he hates most?

Maybe you can live with the "It's fake" explanation and that's good for you. But what if instead of liking reality tv because "it's fake", Janus likes it, because it perfectly mirrors the flaws and the emptiness of society? What if he enjoys it, because he loves the irony of society using its own means to unmask itself and show its real face? What if he watches it, not because "it's delightful", but because it's bittersweet to see such an inability to understand your own flaws?

Which explanation do you think is more fitting for his character?

---

Remus eats glue sticks

Of course he does. His digestive system is probably able to digest molten lava, so glue sticks are a walk in the park for him, bless his chaotic soul <3

(Have I already said Remus is my favorite boi?)

---

The possibilities of shedding

Okay, the "Have you considered not having pores?" is hilarious and I love it on multiple levels.

Well, here we are. Janus sheds, two to four times a year. And I know the fandom went crazy over this and I'm happy for you... but I never really cared too much about it.

I mean: it's fine, but I can't really think of anything truly special to headcanon about it. Snakes shed their skin all the time and they just chill around, while slowly peeling their skin off. It's not dangerous, it doesn't hurt, it's just exfoliation time✨. I mean, does it hurt you, when you remove sunburnt skin? Don't think so. The worst thing for snakes is probably not being able to take the skin off with hands, since they don't have hands.

But hey, this is canon now, so I should probably integrate it in my headcanon. And I can do it in two different ways:

The shedding is just part of Janus' routine: twice a year he gets one day off, takes a reeeeally long bath and slowly peels off his skin until he's done.

I can take inspiration from this fanart and imagine the shedding as a real "leaving your body behind" process, in which Janus slowly gets submerged into his room and re-emerges as a form of pure power and instincts, which then solidifies into a new body. I think I like this idea more, because when I go with Janus, I need something that makes him look either more god-like or more monster-like.

And since we're talking about snake traits, how many more does he have? Because I already added a few on my list, like:

sunbathing

climbing trees

laying everywhere (especially on trees)

taking long relaxing baths

And I'm just waiting for an excuse to add "mating". But I suppose only future will tell.

---

What you don't like

"An important aspect of being oneself, in addition to knowing what you like, is knowing what you don't like and saying to that thing: ew get away from me, I don't like you... Roman"

Okay, that was genuinely funny and it made me smile, so kudos for that, Mr. Sanders. It was a clever move and I enjoyed it.

Also, for more reasons I will explain further down, this makes me want to write a conversation between Janus and Roman, to study how they work together, why they don't like each other and their personalities in general. My only problem would be to put it on a timeline, because I don't like to write things suspended in a temporal vacuum. If inspiration strikes, maybe I'll do it.

---

Religion... and self-preservation

Now, I don't know who made that question about Jesus Christ, but you. You. You gave me real fear... but also indirectly confirmed one of my headcanons, so thank you, I suppose.

I was bracing myself, waiting and hoping Thomas didn't say anything stupid, because Janus and religion have a super tight bond and one misstep can lead to me rambling for the rest of my life, all while throwing canon into the trash because no one can say anything wrong about the relationship Janus has with religion, not even Mr. Sanders.

But the answer was... okay. Harmless. A bit simplistic, maybe, but I can accept Janus saying that Jesus is cool for having followers and turning water into wine.

What really struck me the most was when he said Jesus is his style because "he refuses to die".

For me, that's the most important part of the video. You can take away everything else, because this is the only part that matters for me.

Why? Because this is the essence of self-preservation. Because, as I said in the past, self-preservation is that force that protects you from dangers, threats, even yourself. And it protects you from death. It's part of that intrinsic will to live that defines all living creatures.

So, since Janus encompasses this role too, it has always been implied (at least for me) that he's that force that will fight against death until the end, just to make Thomas live a little longer. In my headcanon, he literally refuses to think Thomas can die before his time, because he's built to not make this happen.

Hence why when I saw Janus putting such emphasis on the idea that Jesus refuses to die made me immensely happy, because it's (implied) canon. Janus refuses to die, because he will never surrender to death. Because it's his nature, to never surrender to it.

---

Deceit or Ego?

The snake telepathy part was fun when mentioned, then it was followed by the "memememe I'm gorgeous" part, which is perfect if you're the representation of Ego, a bit less if you're deceit.

Speaking of that, I think there's a bit of confusion in Thomas' mind regarding these two aspects. And since they're represented by two different Sides, the contrast is even more jarring.

Janus is confident and this is part of his personality. But confidence isn't repeating "me" in your head 400 times and telling yourself that you're gorgeous and handsome even when sitting still. This isn't confidence, this is Ego. This is something Roman could say to himself... and he did it, in the past. He looked at himself all the time, called himself gorgeous, asked if his makeup was okay because the prince's gonna slay, said he dramatically serenaded himself in front of the mirror. All these things are a constant reconfirmation of yourself and this is what the Ego does: it constantly reconfirms you're great and cool and gorgeous.

Confidence, on the other hand, doesn't need constant confirmations. If you're confident, you already know you're great, you don't need to repeat it yourself. You just do your things and if others criticize you, you shrug their reprimands off.

One example of confidence from this video? This part:

"What are my guilty pleasures?" Guilty pleasures? Why would a pleasure be guilty? I've got none of those. Indulge in your pleasures guilt-free, people: life is short.

This proves Janus is confident, WAY MORE than him repeating how cool he is. This is the tone he should've had for most of the video, not that "Oh, look at how cool I am".

Also because it may seem a paradox, but the more you repeat how cool you are, the less people will believe you. That's why people who constantly show off are perceived as weak and insecure: because they search for a constant reconfirmation they would probably never need, if they were truly confident.

---

All of the selfcare - and what else?

Aside from the things I already mentioned, the rest of the video is mostly made of advice like "your opinion is the only one that matters/others are less than you/don't give a shit about others".

I don't know if this is Mr. Sanders making a reminder to himself to not indulge in criticism too much, but okay, let's ignore it XD

These pieces of advice can all be traced back to another aspect of Janus' personality: the self-care one. The last canonical one.

And since it's the last, I can understand why Thomas latched onto it and made it be like 60% of the video. It's probably the part of Janus' character he remembers the most.

And it's the easiest too, along with the "sassy" aspect. Put them together and you get the sassy queen who tells you to relax dear, don't give a fuck about the rest of the world.

So I understand you, anon, when you say this is the best characterization in a while: it is, because it's based on the last canonical piece of Janus' character, mixed with the "sassy" aspect that developed more recently. Of course it seems more coherent with Janus' character, compared to him being drunk for an entire video.

But even if canonical, self-care is just an aspect of Janus' personality and it makes most of the video. The remaining part is a huge amount of Ego, which shouldn't even be here, because it's Roman's trait.

And the other aspects? Nowhere to be seen. No distaste for society, no cryptic language, no wittiness, barely any lie, barely any real confidence, barely any body language and zero foreseeing ability.

I know what you're thinking and yes, I said at the beginning that this video is clearly just a way for Mr. Sanders to reconnect with the character. So I understand why Janus' personality is like that and that there are mistakes or incomplete things. I am not blaming Thomas for trying.

I am writing this post, to remind you Janus' full personality. To remind you that he's not just "sassy wine aunt/self-care queen".

On the contrary, I think present Janus is exactly like his make-up: the traits are similar to the original one, but the aspects are too sharp. They should be here, they are part of him, but they're not in the exact shade or nuance to be him. They are similar, but off, because something is missing. And that something is nuance.

In the end, that's what this post is all about: nuance. Past Janus was more nuanced, because he was more than one aspect. Present Janus is less nuanced, because he's stuck between two aspects - which is a truly cruel irony, considering his entire thing is being a gray, multifaceted character.

My only hope is that, just like with the make-up, Mr. Sanders will find a way to bring nuances back into Janus' character and make him at least similar to who he used to be.

#sanders sides #ask #thomas sanders #janus sanders #I just love this character a lot #he has a ton to offer #and he has such a gray multifaceted personality #he doesn't deserve to become a one-dimensional cardboard

62 notes · View notes