#the spectacled beholder

[gmalaart]

Staining the zee a violant shade to bind the Machine to its reflection

[familyagrestefanblog]

I find it... kinda irritating how saying that Hero Gabriel is still a failure of a father even if he's not a bad person is apparently somewhat of a hot take.

It is irrelevant at what extreme end of the moral spectrum Gabriel is - sadistic villain or heroic saint - fact still remains that you wouldn't notice either with Monarque or Hesperia that they are fathers at all, while simultaneously both Adriens are clearly depicted as teenagers who basically have to re-settle themselves into their lives after they were emotionally orphaned in every sense that matters.

It is irrelevant that Alt Gabriel is a hero, not a bad person or that he wasn't outright abusive like our Gabriel, nothing will change the fact that Griffe Noire Adrien's path to healing goes the same route as our Adrien's.

And that is AWAY from his father, not WITH him.

Griffe Noire at the end was roughly were our Adrien started off at the beginning of the show, just this time with a better path ahead Ladynoir wise since they know their identities.

He changed for the better when our Adrien gave him the self-acceptance, understanding and sympathy he didn't receive from Alt Gabriel or anyone else for the matter.

Helped him overcome the grief of loosing their mother and accepting that the self-harming behavior he's acting on (or both of them) is not something she would want for them.

There are 2 reasons why Alt Adrien couldn't get over his mother's death, and that's 1) because unlike our Adrien, Alt Adrien didn't try finding new happiness in friendship, and 2) because he too couldn't count on his remaining parent (Gabriel) which made him feel his mother's loss even worse.

Alt Gabriel could be the greatest hero of all time and he still would be a fucked up father because he was so busy being a saint that he apparently barely was a father. When alt Gabe cries in the sewer one would think he'd bring up his child as one of his main motivations, but no, he doesn't.

Because Hesperia is just as little characterized as a FATHER as Monarque.

That aspect of Gabriel didn't change.

Hesperia didn't even fucking know that his son is Griffe Noire either, how attentive to you think this man IS??

Alt Adrien goes on the same path as our Adrien and that's away from being emotionally dependent on his father - the way a 14 year old should normally ALLOWED TO BE bc thats NATURAL and how it's supposed to be - to make friends, but most importantly he sure as hell went on being emotionally dependend on HIS Maribug the way our Adrien was/is

Especially the last picture is extremely telling (and one would think our Marinette would finally start paying attention bc Griffe Noire's change right in front of her eyes is literally all she would need to help her fully understand HER Chat Noir's behavior and how that came to be. But apparently we can't ever have Marinette pick up on the most obvious stuff about Chat Noir's problems).

Unlike Toxinelle who is waving goodbye while holding Griffe's hand, HE is not acknowledging our dimension anymore even when he's the last one to enter the portal by a good bit, bc he's so fixated on his Maribug as his whole world bc just like our Adrien he's literally emotionally an orphan and needs an anchor like everyone else.

Good chance that Toxinelle thinks they're just normally holding hands and she's merely going in first, but no, he is letting her lead him out. He doesn't care whats behind or ahead of him, he's just seeing her.

Alt Gabriel is an awful father and you can tell because Alt Adrien literally has to re-settle in life similar to an orphan while his father is still alive and living in the same damn house!

THAT'S what decides if Alt Gabriel is an awful father, NOT him running around as a charming hero. The quality of parenthood is NOT measured by how "good of a person" the parent is, it's measured by the child's fucking well-being

And I don't know if you noticed it by now, but this is the same logic as our Gabriel being hailed a hero after his death. The special already elaborates on this new angle of Gabriel suddenly being a "hero" while he very clearly was a monstrous failure of a father (and person).

So what side are YOU gonna be on here?

Are you going to victim blame Adrien by just declaring Gabriel Agreste a great, blameless and loving father now because that's what you're being told at face-value while the narrative conveniently plays the case in Gabriel's favors by removing all of them from the dimension they are actually from so his faults are being mostly covered up, and Adrien's looks worse without its proper context of their home-dimension and father-son dynamic

Or are you going to fucking LOOK at the child this amazing hero is emotionally abandoning on a daily in way too many ways and ask yourself if that's the result of a competent and attentive parent?

[zylphiacrowley]

My official "How I plan to blog during Dawntrail" post

Okay, seeing as Dawntrail early access is imminent I should make my post about spoilers and how I plan to handle them on my blog.

First of all I will be blogging my experience. That being said, I will be taking great care to ensure that I don't spoil anyone for anything! Everyone deserves to experience the expansion at their own pace and without spoilers.

All Dawntrail posts that I reblog will be tagged with the tag dawntrail spoilers since that seems to be the most common tag people will be using, that is the one I will also use (I also tend to tag as ffxiv spoilers for spoilers but the Dawntrail specific tag will be the main one I'm using.)

For anything that I post myself I will be hiding it under a readmore, with some text above it indicating it is potential spoiler content, as well as using the divider below above the readmore as an at-a-glance indicator that "Ay thar be potential Dawntrail spoiler content below!"

I believe with Endwalker I continued to use spoiler tags for a month after early access. I plan to do this again for Dawntrail. If anyone following me wants me to continue spoiler tagging for longer than that, please just shoot me an ask and I will extend my tagging (unrelated, but if you ever want me to tag for anything, not just ffxiv stuff, just shoot me an ask about it and I will do my best to ensure that I tag for it going forward).

So, that's about it! I hope everyone enjoys the expansion and I hope everyone gets everything they ever wanted out of it! ♥♥♥

[xylo-art]

My specialist boy! 🧪❥ —

timelapse below the cut! beware for flashing ⚠️ —

[beninahouse]

it’s a miracle!

[scythckind]

At least things aren't dull.

[djcarnationsblog]

Absolute gorgeous

holds these out rly pathetically . do we fw uuau usagi . most lovely lady in the land how cohld anything bad happen to her

[selamat-linting]

something is definitely wrong with me but she's (jennifer) just like me fr

[fstbmp-a]

Infinite writing reminded me of Phantom and how fucking saucy this battle would be, even if it at the end of the day so one-sided it'd be embarrassing if Olympia just went all-out.

[dotjings]

hey guys

where did the ritual of passing a cell phone/console around with your friends go

is this a communal activity and/or comparable to playing an arcade cabinet

[wireddless]

Addict

pairing: Coriolanus Snow/Reader

cw: 17+ hate. fucking. dubcon, possessive behavior, corio is emotionally abusive, vaguely implied Plinth reader, p in v, unprotected sex, nsfw below the cut,

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i just know hes so hung you guys i want him so bad

Living in the shadow of Lucy Gray was never an easy feat. That’s all she was after the erasure; a shadow, soon to be only a whisper on the sleeping breath of Coriolanus. The closest he could ever feel to real love was with the District 12 songbird, and had she been more than just a district animal, a member of the Capitol, there was no doubt in your mind he would have married her instead.

Your days at the academy, a few years his inferior, were spent in the naive mindset that he was fully capable of love. However, the only true love he would ever feel was towards the power in his cold-handed grasp. After your graduation, you continued living with your family, their prized figurehead of poise and beauty, until they managed to propose your hand to him, only a year or so before he became president.

Coriolanus, living on top of his family’s hidden debt and poverty, accepted nearly immediately, driven by the thought of the millions that came with your name. Your family, so charmed by the icy man, was manipulated into paying for the lavish ceremony. A Capitol wedding was a spectacle to behold, a sea of colored heads and garments, textiles in unique patterns decorating the spectators in a myriad of colors. An insipid eye-sore, in his opinion.

And there you were, the pale lavender of your dress cascading down your body like the drapes that covered a window in a lonely mansion, baby fat gone. The bright light in your eyes that has now long-since faded, the happy expression you held, truly believing the facade he had put on to convince your family that he was a perfect match, it all fueled a fire of satisfaction in his psyche. He remembered the young girl from their studious days, the sneaky glances shot his way from a face framed by baby fat, it was so easy to take advantage of a schoolgirl crush, to charm his way right into your heart. He’d never go hungry again, and he could finally focus solely on his rise to power.

Or so he thought. When you managed to pick his intentions apart and discovered the cunning and manipulative nature of the man, you became defiant, fucking petulant. Your once tender and loving gaze, seeking to nurture and care for him, hardened like the calcium deposits on the well pumps in the poorer districts of Panem. He heard in passing from the workers of the house about your violent fits of tears late at night. It wasn’t like he cared, hell, the idea of your reddened face damp with tears and snot amused him to no end. But fuck if it didn’t annoy him when Tigris became your closest friend and confidant.

Coriolanus kept you locked away in the golden cage of his home, not permitting the men of his staff to go near you, forcing you to discuss with him the simplest task of visiting your own family. You were still the key to his now inherited wealth, a prize that he had won with cunning and malicious tactics, and the thought of you straying into the arms of another man, who could take you, who could take even a bit of the control he held, it infuriated him to no end.

It took almost a year for you to realize that without your family, he was completely broke, and it took almost two to realize he never once held even a glimmer of fondness towards you, that he was using you. Tigris, who had spoken to you during her regular visits, had become the arms you fell into when the agony of your situation first befell you. Her hands wrapped around your body as she shushed and hummed quietly were a solace to you as the pain dawned on you. Three years after your marriage, you would speak in hushed tones over cooling tea, not bothering to hide your glare when Coriolanus bothered joining. He was no longer the subject matter of your conversations with Tigris, instead discussing gossip that had spread through the yammering mouths of Capitol citizens, and the newest trends to pass around them. She had become your dearest friend, one he couldn’t find a valid reason to hide you from. Though he never would admit while his heart was still beating, despite your shared animosity, you were still his favorite accessory.

The Reaping ceremonies for the next annual Hunger Games would begin soon, which became a sensitive topic between you and Coriolanus. It was no secret to you who Lucy Gray Baird had been, who she had been to him. What the hunger games meant to him. You resented her. Not for the place she held near his heart, but for managing to escape him before he had caged her.

The fire of your arguments was always sparked by her name, the tinder and fuel having already been prepared by the years of building resentment. Almost always in his office, your hands would shove him back as he rapidly approached you after you provoked him with harsh and unforgiving words, only fanning the flame of hatred he felt towards you. Then he would corner you, your back against the wall as one hand found your neck and the other found your hair, his fingernails digging at your scalp. His minty breath falling out of his mouth in heavy gasps as he fought the urge to kill you right there. You made him feel as though he was an animal from the districts, dirty and foaming at the mouth. And he hated that.

“You know I would never harm you.” He’d always reassure you when his grip on your throat finally loosened, his eyes taking in the way you would suck in air he had prevented from reaching your lungs. Coriolanus considered what little he allowed you, even the air you breathed, a favor. He thought himself generous, benevolent even. He wasn’t of course, and you were always quick to point that out.

Today's argument was only different in setting, within the walls of your shared bedroom rather than his office. You had shoved him, predictable, and turned to storm away, wanting to find a guest room to sleep in instead. But before you could reach the door, his hand had yanked you by your hair back towards him before nearly throwing you on the bed. When you sat up to scramble away, he shoved you back down by your shoulders and crawled on top of you, effectively pinning you to the mattress, an echo of your frequent taunts. It was rare that you two would actually be in such a position, as neither of you particularly craved intimacy with one-another, yet the way one hand slid up your negligee and gripped the curve of your thigh conveyed a much different message tonight.

“I just wish you’d shut up for once, you know that?” He growled. Coriolanus Snow was an aggressive lover. He put all his weight on his forearm strung across your chest to keep you pinned down as his fingers left their place on your thigh and slid up to the junction of your legs, cupping your heat rather aggressively before shoving them aside and sliding his fingers over your folds to find the sensitive and rather neglected bundle of nerves. You could hardly hide the shudder that overcame you as you responded.

“Fuck you!” You spat at him, writhing under his touch. Your head fell back on the luxurious sheets and you bit back a moan as he swirled his fingers in a circular motion over your clit, stirring the lust you had repressed to life. How he loved to see your eyes rolling back into your skull as you fought surrendering to his ministrations. The edges of his mouth lifted in a smug little smirk when your arousal became more evident, making your cunt slick and pliable.

Oh, how he adored to see his poor, neglected wife fall victim to her own human nature. It made him want to consume you whole, like you were a treat he got all to himself. Coriolanus’s mouth fell to your collarbone and his teeth scraped over the thin skin as he slipped his middle finger inside your sopping hole, earning an earnest mewl from your normally argumentative lips. He bit down rather hard at the junction of your neck and shoulder as he slowly, teasingly pumped his finger in and out. This would be easier than he thought.

He tilted his head back up to take in the sight of your demeanor flickering to something more vulnerable, before taking your mouth with his. He kissed you like you provided the air he needed to breathe, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate. You’d be a fool to say you didn’t still crave him after the years of strained marriage. His teeth clashed with yours as you both attempted to deepen the kiss. When he pushed another finger inside of you, hooking them and speeding up, your mouth fell open with a shaky moan, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth.

When your mother described to you what sex was like, she explained it like an intimate dance, where two souls would merge with love and passion. But it was never like that between the two of you. It was always a battle, aggressive and antagonistic as one of you sought to take something from the other. For Coriolanus, it was a display of his authority and control. His fingers quickened in pace and your hips bucked up into his hand, searching for more friction that would aid in your release. And he was benevolent wasn’t he? Who would he be to deny such a rare and primal pleasure? His fingers continued their attack on the spongy roof of your walls, pushing you closer and closer until your hand tore at the skin of his back with the intensity of your orgasm. Still seeing stars, he pulled his lips from yours and hovered them over your ear, his cheek brushing against yours, damp with tears.

“See how easy everything can be when you just stop resisting me at every turn?” You opened your mouth to respond, to bite back when the arm that pinned you down quickly shifted so his hand could cup over your mouth. He loved shutting you up. His silent voice hissed in your ear with a lingering promise. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

So focused on his words and hot breath on your ear, you almost didn’t notice when he pulled his fingers from inside you to tug down your panties, discarding them somewhere behind him before fumbling with the breeches he slept in, the cold air of the room hitting his stiff cock. He brought that same hand up before him, spitting in it and spreading the wetness of his saliva over his hardened length. Barely giving you a second to process all that was happening, he pressed himself inside of you, his eyes squeezing shut and his brow furrowing as your tight, wet heat engulfed him entirely.

Having not been intimate with him in so long, it was like he was splitting you open, and you cried out with pleasure into his hand, your own lashes pressing together as you took his total length. Coriolanus didn’t remain still for long, and his hips soon began setting a bruising pace, his balls slapping against your ass as he fought the urge to moan himself, not wanting to appear any less in control than he was. Your muffled gasps spurred him on, practically driving him mad as he pummeled into you. The volume difference when he removed his hand from your mouth and forearm from your chest was quite noticeable, and his fingers wove into your hair once more, holding your head back against the bed as he swallowed your moans with his mouth.

The stinging pain of your nails in the skin of his back when they flung around him was dulled by the sheer thrill he felt taking you like this. The hand that coaxed your orgasm out of you found its way to your thigh again, pushing it up over your torso to rest on your shoulder, allowing him to thrust deeper inside of you as his fingers dug into the hot and tender skin. You nearly screamed into his mouth from the change in sensation as his hips came flush with yours over and over again. For a brief moment, he pulled away from the kiss to bite and suck at the skin of your neck, letting you sing out unmuted by his hand, as he imagined his songbird would so many years ago.

Coriolanus hated you. He hated almost everything about you. He resented you the way you resented him, but he was still addicted to you. Addicted to the control you allowed him as he fucked you stupid, to the way your pitful moans were brought about by him, to the dumb fucking look on your face as your body managed to make his hips stutter and falter as he came inside you with a low moan. He didn’t care about pulling out. You were his wife, a state figurehead, it was part of the job description to give birth to his children. Maybe getting you pregnant would even do him the favor of shutting you up. He didn’t bother helping you clean up as you readjusted your nightgown, instead opting to wipe the sweat from his brow and tuck himself back in the satin pants he intended on sleeping in.

Coriolanus Snow was not capable of real love. All those close enough to him were well-aware of that fact, including you. But when he crawled into the bed and pulled you, still breathless and trembling, up next to him, when he tucked your head into his chest in a possessive manner, your hands pressed against his heated chest, when he fell asleep holding you like you’d run away too, you momentarily convinced yourself he might have been able to love.

[gmalaart]

Studying the Correspondence with Dr. Cavendish

[tulipatheticee]

Hi! I had an idea of Eloise x fem reader, reader being Queen Charlotte’s daughter. They get caught together, and readers mother suggests marriage. With that Eloise and reader start the acceptance of the same sex love/marriage.

love story e.b

eloise bridgerton x queen charlottes daughter! reader

synopsis; In the heart of Regency London, Princess Y/N, daughter of Queen Charlotte, and Eloise Bridgerton find themselves entangled in a clandestine romance amidst the glittering balls and gossip of high society. Their love defies conventions and faces scrutiny, ultimately prompting Queen Charlotte to propose a marriage that could change society's perception of same-sex love forever.

word count; 5.3k

master list

a/n; i went a little ham on this one, i was not joking when i said wlw unlocks something inside of me

as always, kinda proof read, kinda not :p

So I sneak out to the garden to see you

We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew

So close your eyes

Escape this town for a little while, oh oh

In the bustling midst of London’s social season, Queen Charlotte's daughter, Princess y/n, found herself at the centre of attention. Raised amidst the pomp and protocol of high society, she was no stranger to the expectations placed upon her. Attending debutante events was simply another facet of her role as the queen's daughter—a duty performed with grace and an impeccably polished facade.

It was at one such event, a gathering of debutantes adorned in their finest, where y/n first noticed her. Eloise Bridgerton, amidst the sea of hopefuls vying for attention, stood out not just for her striking beauty but for an air of defiance that seemed to hover around her like an invisible shield. Eloise, with her quick wit and sharp tongue, had garnered a reputation as the most outspoken and unconventional of the Bridgerton siblings—a title she wore proudly, much to her mother Violet's simultaneous exasperation and admiration.

From across the room, y/n observed as Eloise engaged in animated conversation with other debutantes. There was a sparkle in her eye and a hint of mischief in her smile that drew y/n's attention irresistibly. Eloise's laughter, free and unbridled, cut through the polite chatter of the event like a breath of fresh air in a stuffy room. For a moment, y/n found herself captivated, her gaze lingering longer than was strictly polite.

Meanwhile, Eloise, amidst the whirl of introductions and compliments, couldn't help but notice the queen's daughter. Elegant and composed, y/n exuded a quiet confidence that commanded attention without demanding it. Unlike the other debutantes who fluttered around Eloise, y/n stood apart, observing with an intensity that hinted at a keen intellect beneath her composed exterior.

Their eyes met briefly across the room—a fleeting moment charged with unspoken curiosity and intrigue. It was a simple exchange, unnoticed by the swirling crowd around them but leaving an indelible impression on both Eloise and y/n. In that brief encounter, something stirred, a silent recognition that hinted at possibilities yet unexplored.

The grand presentation at the Palace was a spectacle to behold. The ballroom was adorned with glittering chandeliers and opulent decorations, filled with the crème de la crème of London society. Eloise stood in line, fidgeting with her gloves as she prepared to be introduced. Her mother gave her a reassuring smile.

“Stand tall, Eloise,” Violet whispered. “This is your moment.”

As Eloise stepped forward, she caught a clearer sight of Princess Y/N, standing beside her mother. Their eyes met once again across the room, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Y/N’s gaze was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the intimidating grandeur of the palace. Eloise felt an inexplicable pull towards her, something she couldn’t quite understand.

Just as Eloise was about to be presented, the attention of the room shifted abruptly. The queens guards charging through the doors, whispers of “Lady Whistledown '' spread like wildfire, next thing you know, the queen is declaring she's seen enough and everyone is dismissed and Eloise found herself relieved of the spotlight as gossip overtook the ceremony. The mysterious writer had once again stolen the show, and Eloise couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the diversion.

'Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter

And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet"

But you were everything to me

I was beggin' you, "Please don't go, " and I said

The opulent ballroom of Lady Danbury's estate shimmered with the flicker of candlelight and the murmur of polite conversation. Eloise Bridgerton, dressed in an exquisite gown of deep emerald silk that Lady Danbury had insisted upon, moved gracefully amidst the crowd, her gaze sweeping over the assembly of London's elite.

The event was a dazzling affair, attended by the highest echelons of society, each guest meticulously adorned in their finest attire. Yet amidst the glittering array of guests, Eloise's eyes sought out a familiar figure—Princess y/n, who stood with Queen Charlotte, radiating an air of quiet elegance that set her apart from the throng of debutantes.

Eloise couldn't deny the flutter of anticipation in her chest as she made her way towards y/n, navigating the maze of guests with practiced ease. Her heart raced with a mixture of nerves and excitement, unsure of how their conversation at Queen Charlotte's debutante event would influence their interaction tonight.

Meanwhile, y/n observed the revelry with a regal composure, her gaze occasionally drifting towards Eloise amidst the swirl of dancers and the lilting strains of the orchestra. The princess was acutely aware of the scrutiny she faced as Queen Charlotte’s daughter—the expectations of duty and decorum that shadowed her every move. Yet amidst the splendour of the ballroom, y/n found herself drawn to Eloise’s spirited presence and unguarded authenticity. 

Violet Bridgerton, determined to secure another diamond among her brood, guided Eloise through the throng of guests towards the queen and y/n. Eloise, begrudgingly adorned in an elegant gown befitting her station, maintained a facade of polite disinterest as Violet introduced her to the queen and her daughter.

"Your Majestys, may I present my daughter, Eloise Bridgerton," Violet announced with practised grace.

Y/n, acknowledging the introduction with a nod, offered a polite smile that barely concealed her curiosity. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Bridgerton," she greeted eloquently, her voice carrying a warmth that belied her royal stature.

Eloise, though outwardly composed, felt a rush of nerves mingled with an unexpected flutter of excitement. She had anticipated the formality of the introduction, yet y/n's presence seemed to alter the air around her, making her acutely aware of every gesture and fleeting expression.

"Likewise, Your Highness," Eloise replied with a hint of her trademark wit, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Though I must admit, I am more accustomed to lively debates than royal audiences."

Y/n's smile widened subtly, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "I look forward to those debates, Miss Bridgerton," she replied in kind, a gentle challenge underlying her words.

The exchange, though brief, left an impression on both women. For Eloise, accustomed to the constraints of societal expectations, y/n represented a refreshing departure—an enigma wrapped in regal poise and quiet strength. And for y/n, intrigued by Eloise's spirited demeanor and quick intellect, the encounter ignited a curiosity that lingered long after the ball had ended.

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run

You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

As the evening progressed, Eloise and y/n’s paths collided again near the elaborate dessert table adorned with crystal bowls of sugared fruits and delicate pastries. Eloise, emboldened by Lady Danbury’s encouraging nod from across the room, approached y/n with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, nerves tingling beneath her skin.

“Your Highness,” Eloise greeted warmly, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness despite her best efforts to appear composed.

y/n turned towards Eloise with a gracious smile, her eyes alight with genuine interest. “Miss Bridgerton,” y/n replied with a nod of acknowledgment, noting the subtle tension in Eloise’s stance.

Their conversation flowed with the ease of familiarity yet tinged with the underlying currents of unspoken desire and mutual intrigue. They exchanged pleasantries about the music, the decorations, and the latest society gossip, each word carrying a weight of unspoken meaning that hung between them like an invisible thread.

Eloise, ever the conversationalist, couldn’t resist steering the discussion towards a topic that had intrigued her since their first meeting. “Your Highness, I must admit, I found your observations on the latest literary sensation quite captivating,” she remarked, her tone light yet tinged with curiosity.

y/n chuckled softly, appreciating Eloise’s intellect and the genuine interest she showed in their previous conversation. “Ah, but Miss Bridgerton, I fear my views on literature may not always align with conventional wisdom,” y/n replied with a playful glint in her eyes.

Eloise leaned in slightly, her gaze locking with y/n’s in a moment of shared understanding. “Isn’t that the beauty of literature, Your Highness? It allows us to explore different perspectives and challenge our own beliefs,” she countered, her voice laced with a mixture of admiration and genuine curiosity.

Their banter continued late into the night, punctuated by shared laughter and stolen glances that hinted at a connection deeper than mere friendship. For Eloise, y/n represented a kindred spirit—a beacon of hope amidst the rigid expectations of London society. She found herself drawn to y/n’s quiet strength and unwavering authenticity, traits that resonated deeply with Eloise’s own aspirations and struggles.

In those stolen moments between dances, y/n found herself captivated by Eloise’s infectious enthusiasm and fierce determination. She admired Eloise’s courage to challenge societal norms and speak her mind, qualities that set her apart from the polished facades of London’s debutantes.

As the evening drew to a close, Eloise reluctantly bid y/n farewell with a promise to meet again soon. Their parting left y/n with a lingering warmth in her heart—a feeling that defied the constraints of duty and hinted at the possibility of something more.

Romeo, save me, they're tryna tell me how to feel

This love is difficult, but it's real

Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

Eloise and y/n found themselves entangled in a web of conflicting emotions and societal expectations. Despite the undeniable chemistry that sparked between them at Lady Danbury's grand ball, both struggled to come to terms with their growing attraction.

In the days that followed the ball, Eloise couldn't shake the memory of y/n's enchanting smile and the way her eyes lit up with intelligence and charm. She found herself stealing glances at y/n across crowded ballrooms, each stolen glance fueling a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Meanwhile, y/n wrestled with her own tumultuous emotions. As Queen Charlotte's daughter, she was keenly aware of the scrutiny her actions faced. The prospect of scandal and disgrace haunted her thoughts, casting a shadow over her budding friendship with Eloise.

Their paths crossed again at another glittering social event, where Violet Bridgerton, ever the matchmaker, introduced Eloise to y/n in hopes of sparking a connection. Eloise's heart raced as she exchanged pleasantries with y/n, their conversation laced with a subtle undercurrent of tension and curiosity.

Later that evening, as they found themselves alone in a quiet corner of the ballroom, y/n couldn't help but voice her uncertainties. "Miss Bridgerton, do you ever feel... conflicted?" she asked tentatively, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

Eloise hesitated, her mind racing with unspoken thoughts. "I... I suppose I do," she admitted softly, her gaze searching y/n's face for any sign of understanding. "This world we live in—it's so... unforgiving."

y/n nodded in silent agreement, her fingers nervously toying with the fabric of her gown. "Sometimes I wonder if... if we're meant to feel this way," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eloise reached out, her touch gentle yet reassuring. "I don't have all the answers, Princess," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I know that when I'm with you, everything feels... different."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Lady Danbury, who swept y/n away to greet other guests. Eloise watched as Lady Danbury whisked y/n away, her heart sinking with each step that carried them farther apart. Alone in the bustling ballroom, she found herself drawn to a quiet alcove, seeking refuge from the swirl of conversations and glittering chandeliers.

Leaning against a draped curtain, Eloise closed her eyes and let out a quiet sigh. Thoughts of y/n consumed her mind, their unfinished conversation lingering like an unspoken promise in the air.

She traced the intricate pattern of her gown absentmindedly, her thoughts drifting back to y/n's earnest question. Do you ever feel... conflicted? And back to her own comment before the conversation ended, when I'm with you, everything feels... different. How would y/n have responded to that? Did she feel the same way, or was Eloise's heart leading her down a path fraught with uncertainty?

The memory of y/n's smile flickered in her mind—the way it lit up the room, reaching out to Eloise like a beacon in the darkness of societal expectations. They had danced around the edges of something profound, something that could alter the course of their lives forever.

Lost in her reverie, Eloise was startled by the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned to find Benedict Bridgerton, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Sister, are you all right?" he asked gently, his voice breaking through her thoughts.

Eloise managed a faint smile, though her heart still raced with unanswered questions. "I'm fine, Benedict," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "Just... lost in thought."

Benedict studied her for a moment, his gaze searching. "Is it about the Princess?" he ventured cautiously, knowing his sister well enough to sense when something weighed heavily on her mind.

Eloise nodded slowly, unable to suppress a sigh. "Yes," she admitted quietly. "We were... talking. About feelings, I suppose."

Benedict arched an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Feelings?" he echoed, prompting Eloise to elaborate.

"I told her... how I feel when I'm with her," Eloise confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "But then Lady Danbury interrupted us, and I never got to find out how she feels."

Understanding dawned in Benedict's eyes as he took in Eloise's words. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Eloise, you know what they say about the young Princess," he said gently. "She's smart, perceptive. She'll understand."

Eloise managed a weak smile, grateful for her brother's reassurance. "I hope so," she murmured, her thoughts still lingering on y/n's last words to her.

As the ballroom bustled around them, Benedict offered his arm to Eloise. "Shall we join the others?" he suggested, his tone lightening with an attempt to lift her spirits.

Eloise nodded, drawing a deep breath to steady herself. "Yes, let's," she agreed, linking her arm with Benedict's. Together, they returned to the lively gathering, though Eloise's thoughts remained with y/n—wondering, hoping, and silently yearning for their next conversation.

I got tired of waiting

Wondering' if you were ever comin' around

My faith in you was fading

When I met you on the outskirts of town, and I said

Days passed after the interrupted conversation at Lady Danbury's ball, each one stretching with anticipation and uncertainty for Eloise. She found herself eagerly attending every social event in hopes of catching another glimpse of y/n, her heart skipping a beat whenever their paths crossed across the crowded rooms.

It was at a smaller, more intimate gathering hosted by the Featheringtons that Eloise finally saw y/n again. The evening was alive with music and laughter, the air fragrant with the scent of gardenias and the promise of summer.

Eloise stood near the refreshment table, feigning interest in the punch bowl as she discreetly watched y/n across the room. y/n was engaged in conversation with Dowager Violet Bridgerton, their laughter mingling with the tinkling of crystal glasses.

Summoning her courage, Eloise took a deep breath and approached them. "Excuse me, Mama,  may I steal the Princess away for a moment?" she asked politely, her voice betraying none of the nervousness fluttering in her chest.

Violets eyes flickered mischievously as she glanced knowingly between Eloise and y/n. "Of course, Eloise," she replied with a knowing smile. "Take her—though I warn you, Her Royal Highness has been entertaining us all evening with her wit."

Eloise felt a rush of relief and gratitude towards her mother as y/n turned towards her, her expression lighting up with surprise and delight. "Miss Bridgerton," y/n greeted warmly, setting down her glass to face her fully. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight."

Eloise swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling the weight of her confession at Lady Danbury's ball. But still she continued to escort the Princess through the crowd until they were outside in the garden, under the nights sky, completely alone.

 "I wanted to apologise for our conversation being cut short," she began earnestly, meeting y/n's gaze with sincerity. "I... I meant what I said. About how I feel when I'm with you."

y/n's smile softened, her eyes holding a hint of something that made Eloise's heart skip a beat. "Miss Bridgerton,,," y/n replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper amidst the lively chatter around them. "I've been thinking about that conversation too."

Relief flooded through Eloise as she took a step closer to y/n, their proximity sparking a warmth that spread through her veins. "Really?" she asked, unable to contain the hope in her voice.

y/n nodded, her expression gentle yet filled with a quiet intensity that mirrored Eloise's own feelings. "Yes, really," she confirmed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Eloise's arm. "I didn't get to answer then, but... I feel something too."

Eloise's heart soared at y/n's words, her fears and uncertainties momentarily forgotten in the rush of emotions. "I'm glad," she murmured softly, her gaze locked with y/n's. "I wasn't sure how you'd feel, or... if we could even..."

Before she could finish, y/n leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Eloise's cheek in a tender gesture that sent a shiver down Eloise's spine. "I want to find out," y/n whispered, her breath warm against Eloise's ear. "If we could be something more."

Eloise's breath caught in her throat as she gazed into y/n's eyes, seeing her own hopes reflected back at her. Without hesitation, she reached up to cup y/n's cheek, her thumb caressing the soft skin beneath her touch. "I want that too, Your Highness" Eloise admitted softly, her voice filled with newfound courage and longing.

Y/N smilied, her eyes lighting up. “Please, call me Y/N. Titles are so tiresome, don’t you think?”

Eloise laughed softly. “Very much so. I find this entire season tiresome.”

In that stolen moment amidst the music and the soft glow of candlelight, Eloise and y/n leaned closer together, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken promises and the beginning of a love that dared to defy convention.

As they pulled away, breathless and smiling, Eloise felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Here, in the embrace of y/n's presence, she found not only acceptance but also the beginning of a journey she never dared to imagine—a journey of love, bravery, and the courage to be true to oneself.

They walked together in the garden, the conversation flowing easily. Eloise was captivated by Y/N’s intelligence and wit, and Y/N found Eloise’s rebellious spirit refreshing. As days turned into weeks, their friendship deepened, but so did the confusion. Can this go on forever?

Romeo, save me, I've been feeling so alone

I keep waiting for you, but you never come

Is this in my head? I don't know what to think

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the gardens of Bridgerton House. Eloise and y/n sat side by side on the swings, their feet lightly touching the ground, pushing back and forth in a gentle rhythm. The air was filled with the scent of blooming roses and the distant hum of London’s bustle, now just a distant murmur.

"I never imagined finding such peace in the heart of London," y/n remarked softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she swayed back and forth. Her eyes wandered over the garden, where vibrant blooms danced in the gentle breeze, their colours vivid against the backdrop of the setting sun.

Eloise, her legs stretched out in front of her, kicked lightly against the earth to keep the swing moving. "It's my favourite place to escape," she said, a small smile playing on her lips as she glanced at y/n. "Thank you for visiting me here."

Y/n turned to Eloise, her gaze filled with an unspoken tenderness. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity. She reached out, her hand finding Eloise’s, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. The simple touch sent a jolt of warmth through them, grounding them in their shared moment.

A comfortable silence settled over them, the only sounds the creak of the swings and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Eloise closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the serenity of the garden and the presence of y/n beside her.

"Do you ever wonder what the future holds for us?" y/n asked softly, her voice filled with curiosity as she turned to Eloise, who was still lost in the quiet of the moment.

Eloise opened her eyes, her gaze drifting towards the horizon where the sun was painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. "I used to worry about it," she admitted, her fingers absently tracing patterns on y/n’s palm. "But now... I like to think that as long as we're together, we can face anything."

Y/n's smile was gentle, her eyes reflecting the twilight’s colours as she leaned her head against Eloise’s shoulder. "I believe that too," she murmured, her voice steady with a quiet confidence. "We'll navigate this world together, Eloise."

In the tranquil embrace of Bridgerton House's garden, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the blossoming love between them, Eloise and y/n found solace in each other’s company. The swings moved back and forth, a gentle testament to their growing bond, anchoring them in a love that defied expectations and embraced the courage to live authentically.

He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring

And said, "Marry me, Juliet

You'll never have to be alone

One afternoon in the opulent drawing room of the palace, y/n sat with Eloise, their conversation light and filled with quiet laughter. The warmth of the fire crackled in the background, casting flickering shadows on the richly adorned walls. Y/n leaned close to Eloise, sharing a private moment, both girls peppering kisses over each other's faces, enjoying the feeling of being in each other's embraces. 

Unbeknownst to them, Queen Charlotte had returned earlier than expected, her steps muffled by the thick carpet. She paused in the doorway, her sharp eyes catching the intimate exchange between y/n and Eloise. For a moment, she simply observed, her mind racing with the implications.

"Miss Bridgerton!" Queen Charlotte's voice cut through the air, startling both young women. Eloise turned pale, her heart sinking as she realised they had been caught. Y/n sat frozen, her eyes wide with apprehension.

"Mother," y/n stammered, attempting to gather her thoughts. "I can explain—"

Queen Charlotte held up a hand, her expression unreadable. "There is no need for explanations, my dear. It seems the situation has clarified itself." She stepped further into the room, her gaze shifting between y/n and Eloise.

Eloise stood, her nerves taut with uncertainty. "Your Majesty, please understand—"

"I understand more than you might realise," Queen Charlotte interrupted gently, her tone softening slightly. She approached Eloise, studying her with a discerning eye. "Miss Bridgerton, do you care for my daughter?"

Eloise swallowed hard, meeting Queen Charlotte's gaze squarely. "Yes, Your Majesty," she admitted, her voice steady despite her nerves.

"And you, y/n?" Queen Charlotte turned to her daughter, her expression softening. "How do you feel about Miss Bridgerton?"

Eloise hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "Mother, I... I care for Eloise deeply. More than I ever thought possible."

Queen Charlotte nodded, her features reflecting a mix of concern and contemplation. "Love comes in many forms," she said finally, her voice carrying wisdom earned through years of navigating societal expectations. "It is clear to me that your feelings are genuine."

Eloise blinked back tears, overwhelmed by her mother's unexpected understanding. Y/n reached out, gently squeezing Eloise's hand in silent support.

“But regardless, you both are participating in acts only those who are married should be. I will not accept a scandal.”

"Mama, what should we do? We can’t imagine life apart!" y/n asked, her voice tinged with hope and apprehension.

Queen Charlotte smiled softly, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "Perhaps it is time we consider a different kind of arrangement," she mused, her mind already formulating a plan. "One that will allow you both to live authentically, without the confines of societal scandals, the only right choice in these conditions." She paused (dramatic effect no?)

“Marriage.”

And so, in that serene drawing room of the palace, a new chapter began for y/n and Eloise—a chapter marked by acceptance, love, and the courage to challenge tradition.

I love you and that's all I really know

I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

In the warm, inviting drawing room of Bridgerton House, Eloise nervously clasped y/n's hand. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, adding an air of solemnity to the moment. Around them, the Bridgertons—Anthony, Benedict, Colin, Daphne, and the younger siblings—gathered, curiosity etched on their faces.

Eloise took a deep breath, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension. "I... We have something to share," she began, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

Anthony, ever the observant eldest brother, arched an eyebrow. "Go on, Eloise. What is it?"

Eloise glanced at y/n, drawing strength from their presence. "y/n and I... We've decided to take a step forward together. We're engaged."

There was a collective gasp of surprise from her family. Daphne's eyes widened, her hand instinctively reaching for Benedict's. Benedict leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face. Colin adjusted himself, trying to process the unexpected news.

With the initial shock beginning to subside, the Bridgertons exchanged bewildered glances, each processing the news in their own way.

"Wait, you two are... engaged?" Colin asked, his voice filled with surprise.

Daphne, recovering from her initial shock, spoke gently. "But... how? I mean, are you even allowed to... marry?"

Eloise smiled, a touch of defiance in her eyes. "Yes, Daphne. Queen Charlotte herself has given us her blessing."

Colin, adjusting to the news, nodded thoughtfully. "I see. It's certainly unconventional, but if Her Majesty approves..."

Anthony, ever the pragmatist, chimed in. "Well, then. It seems we are in uncharted territory, but as long as you're both certain..."

Eloise and y/n exchanged a glance, their bond palpable. "We are," y/n affirmed softly.

"Eloise, are you certain about this?" Francesca asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Eloise nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, Francesca. I've never been more certain about anything in my life."

Benedict, always the voice of reason, spoke up next. "Well, this is quite unexpected, but if it's what makes you both happy..."

Hyacinth interjected, unable to contain her excitement. "Eloise, this is incredible news! I didn't think you'd ever settle down."

Anthony, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "Eloise, Princess Y/N, if this is your decision, then you have my support. Always."

Eloise squeezed y/n's hand tighter, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. "Thank you, Anthony."

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere shifted from confusion to acceptance. The Bridgertons, while initially taken aback, found themselves embracing Eloise and y/n's decision. It was a moment that marked not only a new chapter in Eloise's life but also a testament to the changing times—a time when love was beginning to transcend boundaries and expectations.

Outside, the bustling city of London continued its rhythmic pulse, unaware of the quiet revolution unfolding within the walls of Bridgerton House—a revolution led by two hearts brave enough to defy convention and choose love, in all its unexpected forms.

'Cause we were both young when I first saw you

Eloise stood by the window of their home, gazing out at the bustling streets of London. It had been nearly a year since their marriage, and the city seemed to hum with a different energy. Change was in the air, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in what she and y/n had accomplished together.

The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Beside her, y/n stirred in their sleep, their features softened in the gentle dawn. Eloise smiled fondly, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from y/n's face. They had been through so much together—the secret glances, the stolen kisses, the fear of discovery—and yet, here they were, stronger than ever.

Their marriage had sparked conversations across London society. Some viewed it with curiosity, others with disdain, but Eloise and y/n had found unexpected allies among their peers. Lady Danbury, always a force to be reckoned with, had become a staunch supporter, using her influence to deflect any lingering whispers of scandal.

As Eloise reflected on their journey, she couldn't help but marvel at how far they had come. They had faced challenges and uncertainties, but through it all, their love had remained steadfast. They had created a sanctuary within their home, where they could be themselves without fear of judgement or reprisal.

Outside, the city continued to wake up to a new day. Carriages rumbled past, merchants called out their wares, and London life carried on its bustling rhythm. Eloise turned back to y/n, watching as they stirred awake, their eyes fluttering open to meet hers.

"Good morning," y/n murmured, their voice still laced with sleep.

"Good morning," Eloise replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to y/n's lips. They shared a quiet moment together, the warmth of their embrace speaking volumes where words fell short.

"I never imagined we'd be here," y/n whispered, their fingers tracing patterns on Eloise's cheek.

"Neither did I," Eloise admitted, her heart swelling with emotion. "But I wouldn't change a thing."

They lay entwined in each other's arms, basking in the simple joy of being together. Outside, the city continued its daily hustle, but in their sanctuary, time seemed to stand still.

In the weeks and months that followed, Eloise and y/n continued to navigate their newfound roles as partners in life and advocates for change. They attended social events hand in hand, their presence a quiet yet powerful statement of love and acceptance. Through their actions, they hoped to pave the way for others who dared to love outside of society's conventions.

Occasionally, they would steal moments alone, away from the prying eyes of society, to remind themselves of the bond they shared. Whether it was a quiet evening at home or a stolen kiss in a secluded corner of a ballroom, every moment together reaffirmed their commitment to each other.

Their love story became a beacon of hope for those who yearned for acceptance and understanding. Slowly but surely, attitudes began to shift. Families whispered their support in drawing rooms, friends offered quiet encouragement over tea, and London society found itself grappling with the idea that love knew no boundaries.

As the years passed, Eloise and y/n's love story continued to unfold, weaving itself into the fabric of London's history. They faced challenges and triumphs together, building a life filled with laughter, companionship, and unwavering devotion.

Eloise often found herself marvelling at the resilience of y/n, their strength and determination a constant source of inspiration. Together, they navigated the complexities of societal expectations and personal desires, forging a path that defied tradition and embraced love in its purest form.

And so, in the quiet moments before dawn, as the city stirred awake outside their window, Eloise held y/n close, knowing that their love had not only changed their lives but had also left an indelible mark on the world around them.

I did not plan the lyrics around an epilogue and ran out HAHA oopsie

a/npt2; AHHH how did you guys feel about this, i tried to mot make it rushed i really wanted to start from the beginging and build their realtionship in a way a oneshot can, ive been considering writing a story once im done with these requests so we can get some better romance building then!!

[littlefireball]

ʏʜ|[ᴍ]|ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ

ᴘᴇʀᴠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ x 9ᴛʜ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ʏᴜɴʜᴏ ʜᴀꜱ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ (ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴜʀꜱᴇ)|ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴅᴏᴍ/ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ|ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏɪɴɢ|ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ ᴘʟᴏᴛ (ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴀᴢʏ ᴛᴏ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ʜᴀ~)

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.1ᴋ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇʀᴠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ x 9ᴛʜ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

"Y/N, your legs." Yunho pointed out. You and he were currently practicing 'Sector 1,' a particularly challenging section for your movements. Your legs appeared disconnected from your hips, creating an awkward spectacle as you danced.

"Ugh, this is so difficult," you groaned, placing your hands on your hips.

"It's not as tough as it seems. You just need to concentrate on this part…" Yunho stepped in closer, positioning himself behind you, effortlessly gliding his legs to demonstrate the correct motion.

"Wow, you make it look so simple," you replied, a bittersweet smile creeping onto your face. He responded with a grin, his gaze sweeping over you, absorbing every detail. Your hair, your chest, your hips… every part of you captivated him. He recalled how that snug tank top accentuated your curves, enhancing the allure of your chest; how your hips moved gracefully with each dance step…

You were so damn beautiful. He couldn't help but wonder how you would appear beneath him. It must be a sight to behold.

"Yunho?" Your unexpected question jolted him from his wandering thoughts, leaving him momentarily speechless before his eyes met yours.

"You space out." 

"Ah..it's just daydreaming." 

"You okay?Are you tired?" 

"Ah…no…no worries." He swallowed hard, his heart still pounding in his chest. his mind filled with only one thought─you. You could sense the guilt and anxiety lacing his words, yet beneath that surface, there was something deep swirling within him.

"Shall we continue?" You tilted your head slightly, maintaining a calm and neutral face, as if you were oblivious to the lust brewing in his thoughts.

"Yah, sure." 

The session began with the sound of music filling the air, but slowly, the rhythm and melody faded into silence. The voice echoing in Yunho's mind overwhelmed the sound of footsteps, fueling his insatiable desire. His gaze was irresistibly drawn to your bare collarbone, envisioning it adorned with kiss marks that were his alone. From there, his eyes roamed over the contours of your body, as if he yearned to etch every detail into his memory.

It must be nice to feel your warmth wrapped around his cock, bringing him endless pleasure. The allure of desire overwhelmed his rational thoughts, perhaps he didn't even put up a fight. He feigned a lack of rhythm in your dancing, inching closer with each beat. Your fragrance enveloped him, drawing him into an irresistible whirlwind from which there was no escape.

"You should sway like this." His hands glided up your arms, the warmth of your skin igniting a spark beneath his fingertips. In that fleeting moment of connection, a thrilling jolt surged through him, intoxicating and impossible to resist.

"Follow me." His thighs brushed against you, moving in sync with the music's pulse. His chest was firmly against your back, and you could feel your body responding to his proximity. Your heart raced beneath his fingertips, and the quickening rhythm sent a warm flush across your cheeks.

"Why so intense, hm?" His soft murmurs brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, while the warmth of his breath caressed your skin, igniting the long-buried yearnings within you.

The air between you and Yunho was thick with tension, your bodies swaying in perfect harmony to the rhythm of your unspoken yearnings. His fingers glided over your skin, igniting a surge of electricity that coursed through you, while his proximity stirred a deep-seated intimacy that you fought hard to suppress.

But as you stood there, your bodies pressed closely together, every fiber of you was hyper-aware of his presence, of the heat radiating from him, of the sound of his rapid breathing fanning against your neck. Your own body betrayed you, betraying your own hidden desires.

And that, in turn, only intensified Yunho's desire, compelling him to draw even nearer, as if the mere thought of any distance between you was unbearable.

"You need a lesson, y/n." Yunho whispered against your ear, the velvety tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and his hand, roaming hungrily over your body, burned like a white-hot iron against your skin. 

"A lesson, you say?" You managed to keep your tone cool and steady despite the storm of desire swirling within you. 

"Indeed." He breathed, his words a soft, sensuous whisper that sent tingles dancing across your skin. His hand continued its exploring path over your curves, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Each touch was deliberate, each caress calculated to stoke the flames burning deep within you. It was as if he knew exactly what you needed, and was determined to awaken every nerve in your body.

His hand, warm and steady, traveled down your body, his fingers tracing a languid path along your skin. You gasped softly at the sensation, your breath catching in your throat.

Yunho leaned in, his lips hovering mere millimeters from your ear, and spoke again, his voice a low, husky murmur. "You're mine, remember?"

Your body quivered at the words, your heart racing within your chest as if it might burst through your ribcage. The possessiveness in his tone ignited a fire within you, a heady mix of excitement and anticipation.

"Yours..." you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"That's right." he whispered, his hand sliding lower to cup the curve of your hip. His touch was possessive, claiming you as his own with every passing moment.

"And you know what happens to what's mine, don't you?"

You nodded, the heat in your cheeks intensifying as the implications of his words sank in. The weight of his gaze, the possessive grip of his hand—all of it was more tantalizing than you ever could have imagined.

"I do," you replied, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions roiling beneath the surface.

He hummed approvingly, his hand tightening its grip on your hip before he pressed his body against yours, pinning you between him and the wall. The heat in his eyes was scorching, igniting a fire deep within your core.

"Good girl," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. His free hand found your chin, tilting it up so that your eyes met his, and there was a possessiveness in his gaze that stirred something primal within you.

"Now, show me just how much I own you." he instructed, his voice a low, commanding growl. His hand moved again, sliding around to grip the underside of your thigh, lifting your leg to hook over his hip.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sudden movement, and you grabbed onto his shoulder for balance. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the hardness of his muscles, the tautness of his desire in the hand that held you firmly in place.

"You know I want you so bad." His hand slid further up your thigh, his touch searing even through the fabric. His body pressed more firmly against you, trapping you between him and the wall. You could feel how hard and deep his arched crotch nestled between your thighs as his knee forcefully pushed your thighs widen. You couldn't help but let out a soft gasp as a jolt of electric heat coursing through your veins. 

His hands began to move again, exploring your body with a casual possessiveness that left you weak-kneed. His touch was like a slow, torturous caress, each movement deliberate and calculated to heighten your need for him. You could feel your body responding, your heart racing and your breath quickening, your body craving his touch like an addict craved their next hit.

"I could have you right here, against this wall," he murmured against your neck, his teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh. His hand moved higher, his fingers toying with the hem of your tank top.

Your breath caught, and you gripped his shoulder more firmly, your body trembling with barely restrained desire. The thought of giving in to him, here and now, where anyone could see, sent a flush of heat through you.

"But then everyone would know you belong to me," he continued, his voice a low, possessive growl. His hands continued their exploration, slowly tracing a path over the bare skin of your stomach.

You arched into him, a soft moan escaping your lips at the sensation of his touch. You were his, completely and utterly, and the realization only heightened the aching need building within you.

"Say it, y/n," he commanded, his voice a low, guttural growl. His hand moved higher, his fingers tracing lazy circles along your stomach, teasing the underside of your breast.

"I'm yours," you breathed, your voice hoarse with need, all thoughts of anything else fading away to leave only the heat and desire between you.

A deep, contented growl emanated from Yunho's chest at your words, and he drew nearer, his body melding against yours as his lips captured yours in a fierce, possessive kiss.

His tongue invaded your mouth, hungry and insistent, while his hand cradled the back of your head, tilting you to intensify the kiss. You felt as if you were submerged in a whirlwind of sensation, swept away in the tempest of his desire.

He held you firmly against the wall, the kiss enveloping you, consuming you entirely, igniting a blaze of longing within your veins. Your body pressed against his, and you could sense the urgency of his need, the undeniable proof of his yearning for you.

As he finally released your lips, his mouth trailed a line of heated, wet kisses down your neck. His hands roamed your body, fingers sparking like fire across your skin, awakening every nerve ending.

"Need you now."  His longing surged like an insatiable blaze, devouring everything around it. In a moment of lost restraint, he tore your clothes away with a fierce swipe, leaving you exposed before him. His hands trembled as they moved toward his belt, fumbling to unfasten it.

The sharp click of the belt buckle releasing echoed through the stillness of the room, amplifying the charged atmosphere thick with desire. Yunho's gaze remained locked on yours as he methodically unbuttoned his pants, each motion careful and intentional, as if revealing something truly valuable.

Your breath hitched at the sight of him, your eyes lingering on the exposed skin, on the taut muscles of his abdomen, the sharp V of his hips. It took all of your restraint not to reach out and touch, to run your hands over every inch of him.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you against him. His cock slid inside your depth with a single, harsh move, making you let out a loud moan. The heat of his skin against yours was like fire, scorching and delicious, and you couldn't help but arch into him.

His lips found your neck again, his mouth hot and hungry against your skin. His tongue tracing a path down your collarbone, his teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh. His hands roamed over your body, possessive and demanding, claiming every inch as if afraid you would slip away from him.

He walked you backwards until your legs hit the sofa, and then he pushed you back onto it, following you down until he was hovering over you, his body trapping you beneath him. The weight of him, the heat of him, was overwhelming, and all you could do was gasp as he kissed you again, his tongue delving into your mouth with reckless abandon.

"Yu..yunho…!" A soft, muffled moan escaped your lips as his mouth descended upon your neck. He nibbled and kissed your skin, creating a series of deep red, mottled impressions that lingered in his wake. His tongue glided down your collarbone, swirling in the delicate hollow at the base of your throat before continuing its journey downward.You shut your eyes tightly as his cock ruined your velvet cunt. The way he battered your spot, the way his length rubbed against your wall, the vibration he caused when he let out a small growl were like a drug, making you desire for more. 

"Look at you, how beautiful." Yunho satback, his eyes raking over your body as he moved against you. His eyes explored every inch of you, lingering on your curves, the slope of your breasts, the dip of your waist, and finally stopped at your cunt. 

Oh gosh. It must be his favourite sight to see how your cunt tried hard to swallow his long length. He rocked his hip against you, watching how his cock slid deep and reached your spot. Each time your tiny moan left your tongue caused a wave of pleasure rushed over him. Damn it. He needed to record all of this, now. 

He leaned down to grab his phone that was placed on the sofa, accidentally pushed to the depth. You couldn't help but arch your back and moan loud as he was about to break your limit. 

"Damn…!Yunho!" "Oh fuck! It feels so good." He sat it back and opened the camera, aiming at your lower core before pressing the record button. He was drawn into the beautiful sight underneath him. The way you sucked him in drove him insane. Withdrew slightly, he plunged back with all his might. His pelvis pressed against your clit as he reached the deepest, staying for a while as he loved how you struggled to take him full. 

"Too deep, too deep..!" Your plea was just like a beautiful melody, his eyes darkened at your words. He drew back and repeated the same over and over again until he lost control and fucked you at an inhuman-speed. 

"Moan louder!Louder!" "I…I am so…close!!" "Let go, dear." Your body responded to his words, a wave of heat coursing through you. You were so close, teetering on the edge, and his touch was sending you flying further and further out to sea.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice a low, guttural growl. His fingers moved, finding the most sensitive spot between your thighs and rubbing in small, torturous circles. "Let go for me, y/n."

You let out a soft gasp, the heat of his touch, the weight of his gaze, pushing you further and further toward that edge. Your hands curled into the bedding, pulling at the fabric as you felt the pressure building, tightening low in your stomach, growing more and more intense.

"I said, let go," Yunho repeated, his voice a low, commanding rumble. His fingers pressed against you more firmly, his touch knowing and deliberate, and you felt your body shudder, teetering on that edge for a moment, a moment that stretched and stretched, until finally…

The world crumbled around you, a tempest of sensations engulfing you, pulling you beneath its relentless waves. You breathed his name, your body arching off the sofa as a surge of searing ecstasy enveloped you. It was a deluge of rapture, consuming and blinding, leaving you momentarily adrift in a sea of pleasure, gasping for breath and gripping Yunho as if he were your only salvation. He anchored you through the storm, his eyes locked onto yours, his hands moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm. His gaze radiated a mix of pride and ownership, and he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"That's my girl," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "You're so beautiful, y/n. So damn beautiful."

He shifted, moving to lay beside you on the sofa, pulling you close against his side. His arms wrapped around you, holding you against him as he continued to murmur words of praise and possession in your ear.

"You are so good…you're mine…all mine." 

You were boneless, your limbs heavy and your breaths still coming in ragged gasps. You felt as if you were floating, drifting on a cloud of pleasure and contentment.

"Mine," he repeated again, as if to drive the point home. His hands were gentle now, his touch soft and soothing. He brushed a lock of hair from your face, his eyes filled with a tenderness that contradicted the possessiveness of his earlier words.

"And I'm going to make sure you know it," he said, his voice dropping to a low growl. He nipped at your ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh of your earlobe.

"No one else will ever touch you the way that I do. No one else will ever make you feel the way that I do." His hands moved down your body, a lazy touch.

"You're mine, y/n," he repeated, his voice a low, murmured promise. "For as long as I have breath in my lungs, you belong to me."

His touch was soothing now, and you felt your eyelids grow heavy, your body succumbing to the boneless exhaustion of pleasure-induced release. You snuggled closer to him, nestling your head in the crook of his shoulder, and his arms tightened around you in an embrace.

"Rest now," he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "I've got you. I've got you, and I'm never letting go."

"As you are mine, dear."

—-----

"Hey y/n, sit here!" He patted on his thigh, gesturing to you to sit on him. Well, you had no right to defend him. He had your video, how you moaned and begged under him. 

You felt your heart skip a beat at his command. His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument, and you knew instinctively that resisting would be futile. You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing with heat, but ultimately, you obeyed, settling yourself onto his lap.

"Good girl." He murmured against your ear, his hot breath landing on your bare neck. "Play a game, hm?" You could only nod, letting him rest his chin on your shoulder as he focused on the TV. But, one of his hands slowly reached down, playing the hem of your top before moving down to your clothed clit. You hissed at his sudden move, drawing all the members' attention on you. 

"Don't fucking move." He warned you with a firm tone. "Or they will know Everything." You could only bite your lips, allowing him to stir your desire once again. 

"Good girl, so good for daddy." His low whispers echoed in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Now, you know. You could never, never, escape.

tag list: @angelsaway, @yeosangcutie0615, @monsta-x-jagi

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 8

Previous Chapter: Part 7 | Next Chapter: Part 9 Coming Soon!

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

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

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

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes.

Chapter 8: The Party Part 2 / Shoto’s Revenge

She shrugs and gives you a knowing half smile. “Sometimes people need a little push!” She starts to notice the room getting quieter as everyone waits for her to call out the next participant. “Speaking of which…you’re next!”

You look up in surprise as the crowd around you cheers and starts to chant your name encouragingly. Mina scoops up the bottle off the floor and holds it out to you expectantly.

“Come on, Y/N!”

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Your friends chant around you.

You can practically feel Shoto’s gaze burning into your back as you stare down that problematic glass bottle.

Shit.

-----------

“Huh!?” Oh no. Oh helllll no. You weren’t planning on participating in this crazy game – especially not when Shoto is off the table. “No, Mina, I’m okay. Really.”

Mina pouts, but relents. Instead she turns to Hagakure. “How about you, Toru? Want to take a spin?”

“You know it, girl!” Toru cackles, shifting in her seat.

Mina turns back to the group and signals for attention. She’s going to make such a good hero one day – she can so easily control a room and grab the spotlight. If only she would stop pushing things too far all of the time…

“Allllright! Toru’s up next!” She passes the bottle over to your invisible best friend and scoots back to give her some space. Toru wiggles with excitement, her bracelets jingling on her invisible wrists as she leans forward and gives the bottle a hard spin.

The bottle ricochets across the floor, whirling round and round. You feel the excitement rolling off of Hagakure in waves as she waits to see where it will land. Within seconds, the bottle’s pace slows and it comes to an abrupt stop. You look up eagerly to see that it’s pointing at Mashirao Ojiro.

“Oh!”  Toru says softly.

For once, The Invisible Girl is absolutely speechless. You imagine she’s blushing as she takes in Ojiro’s equally shocked face. Across the circle, Ojiro’s jaw is slack in surprise. He quickly closes it and absentmindedly straightens his hair as the group is watches on and laughs.

You narrow your eyes and glance over at Mina, suspicious. How is everyone being miraculously paired up with their crushes!? She’s definitely rigged this game somehow, you just know it. She’s playing matchmaker somehow!

You refocus on Toru, who seems to be frozen in place.

“Get over there girl!” You and Mina push Toru up and she stumbles, nearly tripping over the glass bottle. Ojiro hops up to meet her in the middle and catches her arms before she can fall.

“Um…hey.” Ojiro says as he steadies her. Everyone looks on eagerly; this game is truly a spectacle to behold.

“Oh, Ojiro!” Toru says theatrically as she bounces on the balls of her feet. “This is so embarrassing! My face is bright red!”

Ojiro actually rolls his eyes at this, he’s used to Toru’s dramatics at this point.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” One thing you like about Ojiro – he’s steady and reliable. If anyone can balance out Toru’s constant chaotic energy, it’s The Tailman. “But…maybe you should take the lead here – I can’t see your face?” He says weakly, staring at her hard as he tries to discern where her mouth is.

Toru wastes no time, throwing her arms around Ojiro’s neck and pulling herself up she can crash their lips together. Ojiro’s face is bright red and his eyes are wide in shock as Toru all but climbs on top of him. You and Mina laugh so hard you feel like you can barely breathe. For a moment, all thoughts of Shoto have left your mind as you watch one of your best friends have her first kiss with her crush.

Ojiro’s eyes slide closed and he wraps his arms around Toru’s back and waist, holding her to him in a sweet embrace. They’re flush against each other, and he lifts her up a bit so that she’s standing on top of his shoes.

 It’s kind of weird to watch Ojiro make out with an invisible partner. You can see Toru’s body since she’s wearing clothes, of course. But her head is completely invisible, so you can see right through her. Quirks make intimacy hella weird sometimes. Through Toru’s nonexistent head, it looks like Ojiro’s lips are flattening and pursing of their own accord.

Finally, Toru breaks apart from him and reaches up to ruffle his hair. He smiles stupidly down at her invisible face. They break apart and she skitters back over to you and Mina to reclaim her seat. Ojiro stumbles back to his seat next to Kirishima, who claps him on the back kindly with a smile.

“Eeek! I had my first kiss!” Toru whispers urgently in your ear.

“I know! I was there!” You laugh.

At the break of action, the sound of babble swells in the room again as everyone gets back to chatting and laughing. The mood in the room is good; everyone is a tiny bit buzzed and feeling warm and fuzzy.

“What was it like!?” You ask eagerly, sitting forward to hear every word.

“Soft! Warm! Hot! Ojiro is a good kisser!” Toru squeals. You and Mina laugh happily as your friend wiggles with joy. “I hope that this night never ends!”

Mina checks her bedazzled phone. “Oh! The rest of the group is here!”

You and Toru look up towards the entrance and see that a small group of Class B students have entered the building. Mina, ever the master of ceremonies, waves them over and has them join the circle. Itsuka Kendo, Setsuna Tokage, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, Juzo Honenuki and Yosetsu Awase find spots on the floor. Honenuki waves at you in greeting, and you return the gesture with a friendly smile.

“How did the distraction go!? Did Hatsume’s creepy little machines work?” Mina asks Kendo excitedly. The red head smiles back wickedly.

“We definitely fooled Mr. King into thinking that Mineta needed his help. He took the bait hook, line and sinker.” Honenuki cackles out.

“Wait…Neito – weren’t you supposed to be part of the distraction alongside Kendo?” You ask your friend. Neito looks a bit embarrassed when he answers.

“Well…I needed some extra time to get ready and Kendo said she could handle things with Setsuna, Tetsutetsu and the Class B gang. Plus I didn’t want Mr. King to think I was always running around tattling on my classmates. He told me recently that I need to work on being a bit more ‘social’ and ‘likeable.’ I just couldn’t bring myself to let him down again.” Neito says smoothly. This tracks – Neito has a ten step skincare regimen, after all. You can only imagine how much time he took to primp ahead of his big night with Shinsou.

“We thought it would seem more authentic if the class rep took the lead here.” Tetsutetsu chimes in, grinning widely. “And Mr. King totally bought our lie when we told him Mineta was getting bullied and strung up on the flagpole as a prank. We watched him run over to where Mineta was hanging and boom! He was instantly covered with drones. He didn’t even land a hit while we were watching.”

“Wow sounds like Hatsume really does know what she’s doing here.” Toru says in awe. Mr. King is an experienced hero, so Hatsume’s drones being able to go toe-to-toe with him is truly impressive.

“The trick wasn’t very manly of us, I’ll admit.” Tetsutetsu says, running his hand through his hair guiltily.”…but it sure was effective!”

“Yeah I really tried to make it seem like we’d been casually walking through the area when we noticed Mineta had been ‘attacked.’ Hopefully Mr. King won’t think we were connected with the drone nonsense.” Kendo says uncertainly.

“I’m sure it’s finnnneee!” Mina says, throwing her arms out wide. “Hatsume knows what she’s doing. And so does Mineta – he’s got skin in the game.” You glare at Mina when you remember that you had promised to kiss the little pervert in exchange for his help. As much as you hate the whole situation, you do truly believe that the kissing offer will keep Mineta on-task. He’s unlikely to betray you all where sexual favors are involved, after all.

“So what’s going on?” Tetsutetsu asks excitedly as Kirishima passes him a bowl of chips and a drink. “What did we miss?”

“Well you guys only missed a little – YaoMomo, come over here and give it a spin!” Mina calls out across the crowd. Momo has joined Shoto in conversation and looks up in surprise.

“No, no I’m alright!” She waves Mina off, blushing. She’s wearing a sensible lavender turtleneck and expensive looking blue jeans, flawless as per usual. “You all keep on playing without me.”

“Come onnnnn Momo!” Mina whines, scooping up the glass bottle and proffering it up to your creation-quirked friend.

“No, really! I must refuse.” Momo says, her eyebrows arched nervously as she tries to wave Mina away.

Momo and Mina continue to bicker (if you could call Momo’s polite declining bickering…okay Mina continues to bicker at Momo and she tries to turn the spotlight away from herself).

Your phone buzzes a few times in your pocket and you slip it out, hoping its Shoto.

It’s not.

Nope - it’s Honenuki.

Honenuki: Hey.

You glance up – the pale skeleton-faced young man is looking up at you with his wide grey eyes from across the circle. No one notices - everyone else is focused on Mina and Momo’s back and forth.

You type.

Y/N: Hey! You were part of the distraction team? I thought it would just be Kendo calling over Mr. Vlad King.

Honenuki: We all thought it would look more believable if we did it in a group. We told Mr. King we were walking back from the library when we heard yelling and found Mineta. Mr. King told us to head back to the dorms in case a villain had broken through the UA barrier.

Y/N: Oh shit. You think we’ll go into lockdown?

Honenuki: Nah. We told him it looked like a student prank, and he seemed to believe it.

Y/N: That’s gnarly. You could get in SOOO much trouble if he finds out this was all a fake set up.

Honenuki: Yeah. But isn’t it worth it for one night of being reckless teenagers? We’re all so good most of the time.

Honenuki: It can be a little fun to walk on the wild side.

A tiny lion emoji accompanies the text.

You smirk, glancing up at him to see his eyes crinkling at the corners to indicate that he’s smiling.

Honenuki: By the way

Y/N: ??

Honenuki: You look really cute tonight

Oh.

You feel a blush bloom in your cheeks, warm and rosy. You dart a quick look up at him and see that he’s still staring you down, eyes intense. You don’t know what to say…

After a moment’s pause, you start typing.

Y/N: A girl’s gotta look her best for an illegal party, ofc!

Honenuki: You always look cute though. Just thought you should know J

Um…okayyyyy!? Is he…flirting with you!? Honenuki liking you…like-liking you…that is not a possibility that you have considered?

You’ve been so caught up with your tryst with Shoto Todoroki that you haven’t really been paying attention to any other men. Your brain flies back through the text conversations you’ve had recently with Honenuki – sharing jokes, swapping music. Oh shit. He’s been flirting with you the entire time! And you’ve been…flirting back?

Your brain is reeling with the revelation. You stare down at your phone screen. You should type something. You should say something. You’re taken, aren’t you? Sure, you and Shoto haven’t put a label on…whatever it is that the two of you are! But you’ve agreed not to hook up with anyone else, right?

Your mind feels a bit hazy. The feeling of being wanted by two different men is a little intoxicating.

You think about Honenuki – his sweet messages and his chill demeanor. He’s kind – you know he’s always willing to help a classmate with training or math homework. You’ve heard nothing but good things about him in passing. He’s also strong – like Shoto, he’s one of the few students who gained admission to UA by recommendation and he’s currently at the top of Class B’s rankings. There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that he has the potential to be a powerful hero.

You bite at your lip, staring at your phone screen blankly as you brain continues to cycle through Honenuki’s positive qualities. On top of his academic success…you have to admit that he’s kind of hot. Perfect skin and shaggy hair. You’ve seen the way he fights in battle; you imagine he’s well muscled under that floral shirt of his. You even like the haunting quality of his skeleton-like teeth. There’s something so genuine about him – he’s open and can put anyone at ease. He’s uncomplicated.

In a world where Shoto had never asked to kiss you, you can see yourself continuing to encourage Honenuki’s advances. If you hadn’t started hooking up with Shoto…would you and Honenuki have gotten together? You’re overwhelmed as you think back to all of Honenuki’s previous messages and the way he’s been treating you so tenderly lately. How could you not have realized earlier that he’s been giving off flirty vibes!?

The atmosphere of the spin the bottle game is far too horny and must be influencing you, because a vision comes to mind of being alone with Honenuki. Your mind scrabbles together a quick flash of white hot images – your hand running down his bare toned chest; his strong hands enveloping the curves of your waist; his grey eyes widening in surprise when you whisper his given name, “Juzo.”

Toru grabs your arm and shakes you from your wild, fuzzy thoughts.

“Y/N! Girl! Are you okay!? Why are you staring at your phone like that?” She tries to make a grab for the device, but you spin it out of her grasp before she can get a good look at the screen.

“Sorry…I was checking to see if Hatsume texted us.” You lie quickly. “I wonder how her distraction is going.”

“Oh!” Toru says in surprise, clearly having forgotten about Hatsume and Mineta’s role in the party planning. “I’m sure she would have sent us all a group text if there was a problem.” She turns back to her conversation with Fujita, leaving you alone with your thoughts for a moment.

You think a bit more about Honenuki and Shoto, two wildly different guys. While Honenuki has confidence and a unique charm, he lacks Shoto’s intensity and vibrancy. With Shoto, each conversation feels like unlocking a new video game level – you’re always learning something new about him. His upbringing, his passions, his sense of humor. Getting to know Shoto has been such a joy - he’s complex and sweet and kind in ways you never could have imagined.

As tempting as it is to innocently flirt back with Honenuki over text…you feel a strong sense of loyalty to Shoto. Sure, the two of you aren’t officially in “a relationship,” but the growing bond you share is intimate. You can’t imagine your day to day without Shoto – his tiny smiles in the hall, the way he sends you odd little texts about Pokémon and his love of cold soba.

And so you leave Honenuki’s text on read. You’ll need to sort through your feelings more later in the comfort of your own dorm room and decide how to approach the situation further.

Mina’s shrill voice brings you back to the present.

“Momooooo!” Mina whines out, throwing up her hands in exasperation. Your attention snaps back to your arguing friends. “Class B did so much work to help us throw this party. Joining in on some of the official festivities is the least we can do to show our appreciation. Plus weren’t you saying earlier how important it is to participate in cultural activities? This is prime teen culture right here!” Mina gestures wildly at the empty bottle lying in the middle of the circle. You’re honestly in awe of Mina and the way she can just make up convincing shit like this.

“Well…I suppose I did say that.” Momo bites her lip, thinking. “As deputy class rep I should participate in such an important show of friendliness between our two classes! And if Todoroki went through with it, I expect I can too.” It seems that this is what Mina was banking on. She grins like a Cheshire cat as Momo walks over to join them.

“Alright Momo, all you need to do is spin this!” She presents the bottle in all of its glory. It seems to sparkle with possibility under the florescent lights.

Momo accepts the bottle and flings it across the ground with an enthusiastic spin. It spirals across the floor, turning end over end before coming to a stop in front of Class B’s Yosetsu Awase. Awase’s eyebrows dip down and he mutters a curse under his breath.

He looks up at Momo, and based on his expression alone he looks either angry or terrified. Kendo laughs heartily and pats him on the back. “Go on, Awase. Go get your kiss.”

Momo watches him with fretful eyes. “Awase. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want - ” The welding hero raises a hand, signaling her to be quiet. Despite the gesture, he can’t bring himself to fully look her in the eye. The welding hero gets up slowly and crosses the circle to reach her, his cuffed blue jeans and dark Doc Martens make him look effortlessly cool. He reaches her in two strides.

Awase is taller than Momo by a few inches – his boots giving him the slightest boost. She looks up into his face nervously, her brain clearly whirring as she tries to devise a strategy to get out of this nerve-wracking situation. Maybe if she makes a break for the door everyone will magically forget this whole silly game and her role in it? Her eyes dart between Awase’s lips and the exit. He finally lets himself look at her, a dark scowl clouding his features.

“You know.” He says quietly, causing everyone in the circle to lean in a bit to catch his words. “I think you’re the smartest student in our year. Maybe even the smartest in the entire school.” He looks away, his skin red with embarrassment, sweat beading at his forehead. “I’ve been wanting to tell you that for a while.”

“Oh.” Momo covers her mouth and looks at the ground with embarrassment. “Thank you, that’s so kind.”

The room is so quiet, Present Mic would find the space absolutely offensive. All eyes are on Momo and Awase.

“You cool with this?” He asks, jerking his head to gesture at the crowd of classmates circled around them.

Momo blushes and looks away once more. “Well it is an important coming of age event, isn’t it? And I don’t want to stand in the way of building class unity, of course.”

This matter-of-fact response draws a slow smile out of Awase, his scowl melting into a light grin. “Oh, of course. Class unity is super important.” He takes a deep breath to steady himself, pressing his hands deep into his pockets as he leans into kiss her. Momo shuts her eyes as if she’s afraid, but as soon as their lips meet she leans into it eagerly. The smooch lasts for a few moments before Awase jumps backwards, face overheating. He looks up at the ceiling in embarrassment, hands still pressed into his pockets.

“Thanks Yaoyorozu!” He says too loudly and too enthusiastically. “I’m glad we could contribute to uniting our classes! See you around!!!” He turns and rapidly exits the room, disappearing into the hallway. Everyone turns to look at Momo, their eyes wide and interested to see what she’ll do next.

To everyone’s surprise, she bursts out laughing. Her mirth is infectious, and before long the entire room is giggling and guffawing, all tension of the room broken. Classes A and B are hanging out and having the time of their young lives together, it definitely feels as if new bonds have been formed.

After a few minutes, the laughter dies down. Kendo runs after Awase and returns a few minutes later with him clutched in her big fist. He looks abashed, but he’s laughing too.

Momo rejoins Todoroki and Tokoyami on the sidelines, and you watch the group of them warily for a moment. Momo is blushing like crazy, though, so you feel its safe to assume that her affections lie with the Class B Awase, not with your sweet Shoto Todoroki. Awase walks over to join their conversation, and after a few moments of chatting, its clear the tension between them has broken. Chatter breaks out amongst the rest of your classmates, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as Shoto smiles, happy to be included and making friends.

You try to shake your jealous insecurities from your body – after all, Shoto deserves all the friends. He deserves comfort and love from all areas of his life. You realize that you can’t be the only source of affection he receives – he’s a full person, not some romance novel character simply created for the protagonist’s need fulfillment and sexual fantasies.

You let yourself come back down to Earth, and out of your head. You listen in on the chatter surrounding you  -

“Kendo – do you think we can train together sometime? You have some really awesome moves with your quirk!” Ojiro asks the Class B rep, and Sero chimes in as well: “Yeah, I’d love to spar with you and see Big Fist in action!” Kendo smiles at the compliment and makes a promise to reserve gym time together in the coming weeks.

Nearby, Tetsutetsu and Kirishima are chatting animatedly about their favorite chivalrous heroes. “Have you seen this interview of Crimson Riot from the ‘90s!?” Kirishima taps his phone to hastily pull up an old video on the web. “This has got to be my favorite video of him in his classic costume.” Tetsutetsu and Honenuki crowd around his shoulder to watch, even Setsuna glances over with interest.

Across from you in the circle, Shinsou and Monoma sit talking softly to each other. Shinsou still has an arm around Nieto, the blonde leaning gratefully into his side and basking in the attention. He cracks a quiet joke that brings a smile to Shinsou’s lips, his eyes crinkling in response.

You take it all in – the joy, the laughter. You’ve got a glowy feeling bubbling up in your chest. This is why you all threw the party. This is certainly a night to be remembered. Everyone is happy and bubbly and bonding. You try to take a snapshot of the scene in your mind. It really doesn’t get any better than this, does it?

“Hey, Y/N – are you good?” Toru reaches over and shakes your shoulder, pulling you from your sappy reflection.

“Oh, yeah.” You say, refocusing on your friend next to you. “Just got lost in it all for a sec. I forgot how good a party could be.”

You feel Toru radiate happiness as well – you don’t need to be able to see her expression to know that she’s on Cloud 9. “I know what you mean. It’s really nice to hangout like normal teenagers, right?”

“Yeah, it is.”

Hmm. Normal. You’ve never really thought about it that way. Toru’s got a point – going to the top hero school in the country has certainly come with its sacrifices.

You’re truly not like normal Japanese teens – its rare that you get a night like this to just hang out and be silly. To flirt with classmates and get to know people outside of training and studying. You look around you – how many of these people do you truly know? If you weren’t all constantly cramming and training 24/7, what hobbies would your classmates have taken up? How would they choose to spend free time?

Training to be a hero is a just cause, a task worthy of sacrifice. But you’ve gotta wonder…throwing yourselves fully into this lifestyle so early in your lives at such a crucial time of social and emotional development…how good can that truly be in the long run? Will you all develop into well-rounded, emotionally adjusted humans? Or will you be at a disadvantage in regular society because you spent all of your youth on training and hero-work? It’s an interesting idea worth more exploration – you wonder what Shoto would think of it all. You make a mental note to ask him for his opinion later on.

“I wish we could do stuff like this more often.” Toru sighs, resting her invisible chin on an equally invisible palm. “It would be nice to get to know everyone as people, not as heroes-in-training.”

“It’s like you read my mind.” You laugh, throwing your arm around Toru and pulling her close. “I’m glad we threw this party. And I’m glad we’re friends.” You see your friend shimmer in the light next to you, her joy manifesting in her quirk’s light refraction.

“Me too, I’m glad we became BFFs!” She leans into you and whispers “Also I’m glad that Ojiro has such defined biceps…because honestly wow.”

You laugh at this, trying to see if you can get a good look at Ojiro’s arms from your seating position. Unfortunately, his arms are covered with thick sweater sleeves, so you’ll have to trust your friend on this.

“I’ll take your word for it.” You say under your breath as you check your watch before turning towards Mina. “Sato said the sweets should be ready about now.” Mina nods and looks off to the kitchen where a few of your classmates are bustling around baking goodies for the rest of the group.

“Alright, let’s do one more spin before we take a snack break!” Mina calls out over the crowd, her voice cutting through the bubble of conversations like a knife through butter. “We need more Class B representation…Honenuki, why don’t you come up?”

The crowd around you quiets and everyone’s eyes land on Juzo, waiting for him to step up to the plate and spin.

“Heh, alright.” Honenuki clicks his teeth and gets to his feet, chill as ever. He strides two long steps towards your group where he accepts the empty bottle from Mina’s protective grasp. He catches your eye and winks before turning back towards the center of the circle. Your stomach does a weird little jump in response to the gesture. Once again, you acknowledge to yourself that you enjoy the flirtatious attention. You imagine what it would be like to meet Shoto’s eyes across the room and for him to wink at you like that. Your secret love affair would no doubt boil the air between you.

You refocus on the game at hand – Honenuki stands at the center of the room. He’s wearing a floral button down with light wash jeans that hug his legs in a pleasing way. For the second time that night, you note that he’s definitely attractive, and his chill vibe seems to put everyone around him at ease. If all the attention is making him nervous, he doesn’t show it.

He places the bottle on the ground and gives it a slow, leisurely spin. The glass rotates slowly across the floor a few times, everyone eagerly looking on. After a moment of slow rotation, the bottle rolls to a stop and it’s pointing…straight at you. 

Honenuki turns to face you, his wide-eyed look of shock mirrors your own.

“Ooo, looks like you gotta kiss Y/N!” Mina squeals out, grabbing your arms and hauling you to your feet.

“Wha-?” You ask, clearly stunned as everyone’s eyes focus on you. You turn to look quickly from Mina to Juzo. The sudden shift of everyone’s attention to you is over-stimulating and your brain feels like it might short circuit.

“You’re up, Y/N!” Mina whispers as she pushes you towards Honenuki. “It’s all you!” You stumble forward and try to ignore the giggles around you. Class B has started up a chant of “Juzo! Juzo! Juzo!”

Honenuki’s pale cheeks darken under all the attention, but when you look up to meet his eyes again you notice that they crinkle in the corners. He can’t quite grin with his mouth, but with a pang of warmth you realize that he smiles with his eyes. He meets you in the middle, taking a small step towards you.

Every nerve in your body feels alive. You don’t like the way that everyone is staring at you and Honenuki, waiting for the two of you to act. A part of your overwhelmed brain wonders vaguely if Shoto is watching. Will he step in here? Will he say something to stop this from happening? Will he claim you as his own before the combined audience of Classes A and B!?

“You know, I was really hoping it would be you.” He says softly. You’re fairly certain you’re the only one who hears the sweet words underneath all of the chanting.

“Oh! Really?” You say breathlessly. Your classmates start to shush each other as they try to listen to your conversation. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Shoto staring at you, mouth agape as he watches Honenuki take a step closer to you.

Juzo’s wide eyes look down at you, his gaze warm. “I’m not the best person for this game. I’m not really built for kissing.” He laughs, pointing at his face. The florescent light glints across his bright teeth.

“That’s alright.” You say, unsure of what to do next. Juzo takes another step towards you until his face is just a breath away from your own. He smells like the clean dorm soap, as if he’s just had a shower.

“Despite the fact that I don’t have lips, I have always wanted to try. Do you mind?” His words are so gentle, so vulnerable. You look up into his large grey eyes and nod, giving him the go-ahead to move forward. You feel Shoto’s hot gaze burning into the back of your head, but there’s nothing to be done about that right now. You can’t reject Honenuki – not here, not in front of the entirety of the Hero Course. Not when he’s being so sweet and open.

You try not to feel guilty as you lean towards Honenuki. Besides, Shoto participated in the game too, hadn’t he!? He’s already kissed that strange girl from the Support Course, so what right does he have to be upset about this whole thing?

There’s another guilty thought nagging at you as well…you feel bad for how much you’re enjoying Honenuki’s intimate attention. It’s wrong, isn’t it? Are you leading him on now that you’ve realized he’s flirting with you? Should you put a stop to this and expose your situationship with Shoto to the entire room to show Todoroki that your heart and body are loyal to him alone? The thoughts and feelings are all much too complex to sort through quickly, so you decide to just go along with the game and let Honenuki kiss you. You can do damage control and figure out your feelings later.

Juzo reaches one hand down to rest on your side, his fingers spread gently against the curve of your hip. The delicate touch is almost intimate, and his closeness is making your head foggy. He brings his other hand up into your hair, cradling the back of your head as he leans down to bring his face to your cheek. You feel his smooth, cool teeth make brief contact with the side of your face. You can’t wrap your head around how he manages to make the “kiss” so tender, so sweet. After the brief contact, he pulls away to look at you.

“Was that okay?” He breathes, nervous for your answer. You respond by shifting so that you can give him a kiss of your own (it’s only fair). You bring your plush lips to his cheek in turn, planting a soft smooch on his pale face.

The joint classes cheer and clap as you pull away. Honenuki is blushing a sweet strawberry hue as you pull your face away from him. His eyes are sparkling with an emotion that you can’t quite place. He squeezes his fingers lightly on your hip before releasing you.

“Thank you.” He says to you kindly before turning to sit back with his classmates.

You feel a tingle of butterflies in you stomach from the gentle, focused attention Honenuki gave you. But at the same time…Honenuki’s sweet kiss doesn’t make you feel quite the way that Shoto’s kisses do. You turn and search for Shoto in the crowd. Your heart sinks down into your stomach when you can’t find him.

“Alright, everyone! Cake time!” Mina claps her hands and everyone gets to their feet, breaking the circle. The group starts to move towards the kitchen area where Sato has whipped up an amazing array of baked treats. The scent of baked chocolate wafts into the room enticingly, but you feel sick to your stomach as you search the crowd unsuccessfully for your icy-hot hookup.

You loiter behind, needing a moment to collect yourself after your very public romantic interaction with one of Class B’s top students. You watch as members of Class A and B joke and laugh together on their way towards the scent of Sato’s delicious sweets. You turn away from the commotion, hoping the redness in your cheeks has started to disappear.

You hear quiet footsteps come up behind you and for a moment, you fear that it’s Honenuki. You have so many mixed emotions you’re not sure what you’ll say to him.

“Y/N.” Shoto’s soft, steady voice breaks through over the chatter. You spin around in surprise and all but crash into his solid chest.

“Shoto, I - ” He cuts you off with a short hand gesture.

“Mind if we talk?” He asks quietly, glancing around to make sure you aren’t overheard. You nod weakly and follow him into the hallway outside the common area. “This is a bit more private.”

You lean against the wall and wrap your arms around yourself, shivering with discomfort. You’re not really sure what to do or say. What just happened between you and Honenuki, between Shoto and that girl…did that technically count as cheating? What you and Shoto had together…it wasn’t truly a relationship, was it?

Shoto turns to look at you, and you take in his face with shock. His features are screwed up as if he might cry – his eyebrows are dipped down and he’s biting his lip. You’ve never seen an expression like this on his typically unreadable face.

“Shoto – what’s wrong!?” You reach up to touch his beautiful face and he flinches as the contact. You keep your hand steady as it cups his cheek.

“What just happened…I think I’m having a complicated mix of emotions.” He says uncertainly, finally leaning into your touch. “I don’t know how to process it all.”

“Okay. Yeah, me too.” You say almost breathlessly, dropping your hand to your side. “Let’s talk it through.”

There’s a pause, neither of you know quite what to say. You stare at each other mutely. Shoto’s still chewing on his lip anxiously, a habit you’ve never noticed before. Finally, he takes a deep breath and decides to speak.

“You kissed Honenuki. And I didn’t like it.” He says simply. Your stomach drops.

“Okay…when you say you didn’t like it – what does that mean? Can you identify what you were feeling in that moment, and what you’re feeling now?” You prompt, needing more context. Shoto thinks on this for a moment.

“I felt jealous and a little angry. Maybe the feeling is…possessive? But I don’t know if it’s right for me to be feeling that way. I don’t own you, I don’t have sole possession of your time or the right to your body. We never discussed any sort of commitment to each other.” He pauses for a shaky breath. “And right now I feel…still a bit angry, but mostly sad and disappointed.”

“Disappointed?”

“Yes…I thought that maybe the way that we touched each other…I was hoping that kissing and touching would just be for the two of us. Then I saw the way he looked at you, how he touched you so gently. It looked like it came so naturally to him. And for me…well, I’m awkward. I know I can be…” He trails off, searching for the right words. He makes a strange, tight-lipped face when he finally says: “Emotionally stunted and inexperienced.” The phrase sounds unnatural on his tongue, and your eyes widen in surprise. It’s clear that he got this language from someone else – it just doesn’t sound like something Shoto would say. You roll the words over and over in your brain as he continues to speak.

He still can’t make eye contact with you as words tumble from his sweet mouth. “I just keep thinking…that if you would rather pursue Honenuki physically, romantically…then I need to step aside.”

“What!?”  You hiss out, completely dumbfounded by this dramatic confession. Shoto is spilling his guts here in the hallway and you have no idea what to say to any of it. Finally, his mismatched eyes meet your own – they’re filled with sadness. In this moment, he looks impossibly young and unsure.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself, hoping to regulate your nervous system a bit before you dive in. You’re not sure how to work at this complicated knot of thoughts that Shoto has just word-vomited out into the hallway. You try to remember the basic de-escalation skills you’ve learned in class. Miss Midnight had once advised the class that in certain situations, the best approach to supporting someone is to reassure them and make them feel safe before getting to the heart of a problem. You decide to go that route.

“Shoto.” You say softly, trying to keep your voice even and warm. “Thank you for sharing these thoughts with me. I appreciate that you feel you can be open with me about these things. The first thing I want you to know here is that I care about you and I want us to talk through this the best we can.” At your words, you see Shoto visibly relax, his shoulders softening at your gentle tone of voice.

“I’m going to be honest, I’m figuring this out as I go. I don’t have all the answers and I’m not sure how to talk about some of these things with you – but let’s try our best to communicate together here. Alright?” Your brain is moving a million miles per hour, but you take another deep breath to calm it. You pretend you’re in an emergency situation and that Shoto is the victim of a natural disaster. You need to calm him. You need to listen to him. You want him to listen to you. It’s okay not to know everything; you just need to make sure he feels seen and heard. “Now I want you to take a deep breath with me.”

“Alright, Y/N.” Shoto says, matching your breathing to take a slow, rumbling breath. You deep breathe for thirty seconds, maintaining eye contact with Shoto. You put a hand over your heart and monitor your heart rate as you breathe, and watch as he mirrors you. You feel yourself getting calmer with each passing breath – and you hope that Shoto feels similarly.

You remind yourself that Shoto has an incredible amount of trauma from his childhood that you don’t know about. You’re guessing that he never learned to properly regulate his emotions the way that you had growing up. You were lucky enough to have parents who took the time to teach you how to process feelings and situations. You are quickly realizing that Shoto never had this as a kid – his father likely forced him to be malleable. As a result, Shoto tends to respond much more reactively to high stress situations. You may just be a teenager, but you have a few regulating tools that you can share with Shoto to help him cope. You make a mental note to suggest therapy to him some point in the near future.

“Shoto. I want you to know that I am a safe person to talk about feelings with. I’m going to try my best to be calm and even keeled if we need to work through difficult emotions. I know I kind of blew up at you when I thought you were romantically interested with Momo, but from now on I’ll put effort into giving you the benefit of the doubt and addressing things straight forwardly.” You pause to let him digest this. You try to filter all your thoughts into simple language. “I’m having a lot of feelings right now, too. I don’t want us to be afraid of talking to each other like this. I think we can really help each other process by talking things through. Are you up for that?”

Shoto continues to breathe deeply, his chest rising and falling slowly beneath his cute navy sweater. He nods. You wonder if stress makes him less verbal.

“To start, I do not think that you are “emotionally stunted.” We’re teen

agers, so of course we’re going to be inexperienced with things. We’re still figuring it all out! But there’s certainly nothing about you that’s “stunted.” For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been very in tune with emotions and are extremely kind and empathetic. I’ve never heard you use that turn of phrase before – did someone else say that about you?”

“Oh.” Shoto looks away, avoiding your confused gaze. You get the feeling that he regrets speaking the phrase ‘emotionally stunted’ aloud. “Natsuo said it when I visited home recently.”

You feel a pang of anger deep in your gut. Why can Shoto’s family be so callous?

“Why did he say it?” You force yourself to keep your tone even.

“Mm.” Shoto hums uneasily, searching for the right words to explain what had happened. “We were having dinner and he was arguing with my dad. He was blaming him for a bunch of things that had happened growing up. He said “the way you treated us as kids is the reason why I’m so angry all the time, Fuyumi is such a people pleaser and Shoto is emotionally stunted. You’ve ruined our lives.”

“Oh. Oh my goodness. Shoto.” There’s no way you could have anticipated this sad fucking trauma dump and you aren’t quite sure what to say. You try to remember if Miss Midnight had given you any other good advice on talking with trauma victims. You recall her telling you to ask gentle questions to better understand, if the person seemed like they wanted to talk. “How did that make you feel?”

Shoto looks very uncomfortable as he thinks through his next words. He shifts from foot to foot anxiously. “It made me feel stupid, Y/N. Like everyone else knows how to approach social situations except for me. Like I’m just a clueless idiot.”

“Shoto. Shoto, you’re not an idiot. Not at all.” You mumble, running a hand through your hair in frustration on Shoto’s behalf. “What Natsuo said isn’t right. And it’s definitely not true. I think that you just tend to be more private with your emotions. And that’s perfectly alright. Over the past few weeks you’ve been emotionally vulnerable with me plenty of times.”

Shoto chews on this for a moment, really letting your words roll around in that interesting brain of his. “You really think that, Y/N? You’re not just trying to make me feel better, are you?”

“Shoto. I promise you I will never lie to you. I respect you and value your friendship too much for that. I swear you are not emotionally stunted. It sounds like Natsuo is having his own issues and decided to unnecessarily shit on you and the rest of your family to upset your dad.”

“I didn’t think of it that way.” Shoto says, breathing out a deep sigh of tension. “He was really angry at dad that day.”

“It sounds like he’ll say just about anything to get under your dad’s skin. And he didn’t just pick on you – he talked some smack about your sister as well. Do you think Fuyumi is a ‘people pleaser?’”

“No. She’s kind and independent and she takes care of us all the best she can since mom went to the hospital. I have never thought of her as a people pleaser.” Shoto says almost instantly.

“So if Natsuo is wrong about Fuyumi, then he’s likely also wrong about you. Right?” You try to help him make the connection.

“You’re right.” Shoto huffs out another deep breath and rolls out his shoulders stiffly. “I’ll need to think more about this.”

You nod quietly in confirmation. You can’t even imagine how much family and childhood trauma Shoto has buried that he needs to process. From what Shoto has told you and implied with stories about his past, this comment from Natsuo is likely only the tip of the iceberg of Todoroki family drama. You decide to divert his attention away from family issues so he doesn’t get stuck in an anxiety loop about it.

“And here’s another thing I want you to get through your mind – I don’t want you to ‘step aside’ for Honenuki.” You take a step closer to him, crowding his space. In typical Shoto Todoroki fashion, he does not move to step back. He just stares down at you questioningly. “I want you. Romantically. Emotionally. Physically. I don’t want Juzo Honenuki the way that I want you.” You say, vehemently.

Shoto raises his hand as if he’s going to caress your cheek – his hand hovers mere centimeters away from your soft skin before he drops it back to his side limply. You mourn the loss of the almost-contact with a light ache in your chest.

“But what about the way he kissed you?” Shoto has this wrecked look on his face as he says this, it’s as if you are a complete mystery to him. “It looked like…it meant something.”

You think about this for a moment, trying to figure out the right words for Shoto.

“I think that I liked the kiss in a way – but probably not the way you think! I liked having the attention the kiss gave me. It was nice to have a public display of affection like that…and also the way that Honenuki focused so much energy on me in just a few seconds, it was definitely thrilling. But I suppose that’s the entire point of Spin The Bottle – it adds a layer of intensity onto everything. All in all, I think he’s nice. But it’s not quite the same as when I kiss you.”

At these words, you see Shoto visibly relax. His shoulders seem to become a little less tense.

“Plus, he’s not a member of the Squirtle Squad.” You add, smiling. Shoto snorts lightly through his nose at the joke.

He’s quiet for a beat before he asks you a question you aren’t expecting: “Is this how you felt when you thought that I was hooking up with Momo? That’s why you were so angry, wasn’t it?” Shoto says slowly, realization dawning on him. “I have been very confused about that, but I think now I understand.”

You exhale loudly, still embarrassed about the whole Momo debacle. “Yeah, admittedly I massively overreacted to that whole situation. I was just having so many feelings and I thought what has been happening between us is too good to be true. And so when I thought there was even the slightest chance that you were hooking up with Momo…well, I got jealous. And possessive. And that’s not fair to either of us. You were open with me from the start and I let my insecurities get in the way of the truth.” Now you’re spilling your guts right outside the biggest party of the century. You hope to God that no one walks by and overhears the two of you.

“Ah…so this feeling I’m having – it might be insecurity?” Shoto says thoughtfully. He bites his lip and you can see the wheels turning in his brain as he pieces it all together.

“It could be! It sounds like you’re having a big combination of emotions right now, and you might need some time to sort through it all. But that’s totally fine! You can take all the time you need to figure out your feelings.” You say warmly, and Shoto’s face finally relaxes into a soft smile. He appreciates the guidance, and the permission to just feel.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Shoto says gently. “You know…I’m always impressed at your ability to approach difficult situations with thoughtfulness and kindness. That’s why I like you so much. You’re going to be such a great hero.” You glow at the words. You feel your cheeks heating up as he stares at you with that intense eye contact of his. You notice for the first time that his grey eye has flecks of hazel around the iris.

You break the eye contact, looking at your shoes as you share your next thoughts. “Listen, Shoto…at the expense of being a bit mean to Honenuki…he wasn’t nearly as good a kisser as you.” You say, holding your hand out for Shoto to take. He gratefully accepts, slipping his fingers into yours and interlocking them. It feels good to finally touch him. All night, he’s been just out of reach. His fingers are warm and comforting as they press into your own. “He didn’t really ‘do; it for me, you know? Also, this is called waffling.” You can’t help but snort out, enjoying the confusion on Shoto’s face. You nod your head at your joined hands.

“…waffling?” He says weakly, looking at your interlaced fingers with wary interest.

“Yeah, because our fingers are crisscrossed together, kinda like how a waffle looks? Oh never mind.” You shake your head with a grin, making a mental note to show Shoto a picture of an American style waffle later on Google so you can explain more in depth.

“I feel like I learn something new from you every time we talk.” Shoto tilts his head to the side, doglike, as he considers your interlaced fingers. “I grew up with little to no exposure to pop culture, and so I feel like I’m missing a decent amount of context for modern romantic practices.”

“Shoto. My dude. What are ‘modern romantic practices?’ You can just say dating.” You say mockingly, but he knows you don’t mean it. He cracks a smile, and the butterflies in your stomach rejoice at the flash of bright Todoroki teeth. You squeeze his hand softly and then recall that you have feelings to work through as well. Since you’re both being so vulnerable and share-y, you’ve got plenty of questions to fire back at Shoto. “Hey – can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” He squeezes your hand back lightly.

“How did you feel kissing Fujita?”

An embarrassed sort of look crosses over his features – he subconsciously wrinkles his nose in discomfort.

“Is that the name of the girl from General Studies? Shinsou’s old classmate?”

“Yes. She’s very nice – I got to hang out with her before the party. Apparently she’s friendly with Mina.” You say, trying to speak kindly of a girl who very well could be your romantic rival in the quest for Shoto Todoroki’s dick.

“Oh. I didn’t even think to ask her name.” Shoto says in surprise. “That’s rude of me, isn’t it?”

“It all happened so quickly, I’m sure she wasn’t insulted by you forgetting to ask her name.” You try to sound casual, but you’re bouncing a bit on your feet. You’re nervous about what he might say about the kiss.

“Were you jealous, Y/N? The way you were jealous when you thought I was seeing Momo in a romantic context?” There’s a teasing smile pulling at the edge of his lips, but he has the decency to bite it back.

“Um, well, of course I was jealous when you kissed someone else! But I also know that it was just a game, and so I didn’t let it bother me so deeply.” You think back to the gentle way he had kissed the young woman’s cheek. “I was most envious of the fact that you were able to kiss her out in the open, in front of all our friends. Nothing was hidden. She was allowed to gush about it with the other girls, and it wasn’t a big secret. I wish…” You trail off, flapping your free arm in exasperation.

“Y/N. That kiss meant nothing to me.” The sentence tumbles from his lips before he can even think. He squeezes your hand harder this time and holds your gaze. “I was embarrassed that I was put on the spot like that. Everything happened so fast and I didn’t feel like I could say no. I wish I could have said no.”

“Oh.” You say, a sinking feeling in your chest. “Shoto, you should absolutely not have felt forced to participate. It was meant to be a fun game to bring everyone together and to be silly. I’m so, so sorry you essentially felt forced into it.”

“It felt like my brain wasn’t working quickly enough. Mina was just talking so fast, and everyone was looking at me. I was trying to keep a cool head but I was overwhelmed by all the eyes staring at me.”

You are going to need to have a talk with Mina about this, you have a feeling not everyone else was thrilled and comfortable with their role in the game. Shoto was likely not the only one feeling so distraught right now.

Shoto’s eyes roam the wall above your head as he thinks out loud. “How am I going to be a hero if I can’t make quick decisions under pressure?”

“Oh my goodness, Shoto! You can’t think like that!” You’re a little startled at how rattled he seems to be about this whole thing.

“Sometimes I don’t understand things as quickly as everyone else. I feel like I’m always a little behind socially.” He admits, eyes still dodging your own. “And at this point, I’m not sure if I’ll ever catch up. My Dad always says so, at least.”

“Shoto.” You reach out and grab his hand in an attempt to ground him. He’s clearly in an anxiety spiral downwards. “Shoto listen to me – everyone learns and grows at their own pace. Like I said earlier…we’re teenagers and we’re just figuring things out! It’s alright if you don’t understand every social situation right away. Being a hero is about having your heart in the right place and having quick reaction time in battle. You have both of those things in spades. As for the social awareness – well as a hero you’ll have a PR rep who can take care of all that. And as a hero-in-training, you have me.” You smile up at him. “You can always ask me for my perspective on a situation. And I can try to step in next time something gets too overwhelming – I can be your social buffer!”

His stormy expression seems to soften a bit and he finally meets your gaze. “You’d do that?”

“Of course!” You say resolutely. “And like I said – a hero is defined by their true heart and their willingness to jump into action to help people in trouble. Your heroism isn’t measured by your inability to resist peer pressure in high school.”

“Well when you say it like that…” Shoto shrugs, clearly feeling a little silly for his intense reaction to the spin the bottle debacle. “Maybe I’m overthinking this. I have a lot to process about tonight.”

“Yeah. Agreed.” You say, relieved that the two of you are figuring it out. But still…you need to be absolutely certain that you’re on the same page about everything.

“So you’re saying you didn’t have any feelings while kissing Fujita?” You ask slowly, trying not to seem too upset by the whole thing. After all, Shoto had admitted to feeling overwhelmed and not wanting to participate in the crazy game the first place.

“Oh. Well…she was kind of cute, I guess. But I didn’t really feel anything when I kissed her face.” He thinks for a moment. “It wasn’t like when we kissed for the first time. The first time our lips met, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like I needed more of you as quickly as possible or I would explode.” You feel your cheeks heat up a bit at these words.

He continues, “That’s really my only baseline for this sort of thing. So similar to you and Honenuki – it was a pleasant experience, but it didn’t really “do” it for me.” He smiles as he meets your eyes. He squeezes your hand yet again, a secret language you’re creating together. He’s trying to convey that he feels comfortable physically this way only with you.

“So it seems that we both feel similarly about the whole experience.” You say, giving his hand a squeeze back.

“That does appear to be the case.” Shoto agrees. “And it seems like we are both very attracted to each other.” He steps closer to you, getting into your personal space.

“Mmhmm.” You say distantly, looking up into his sparkling mismatched eyes as he leans down to capture your lips with his own. A spark ignites in your chest as your mouths connect and it feels so goddamn right. You drop Shoto’s hand so that you can wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. You need him so badly you wish you could pull him into you somehow, for your bodies to meld and become one being.

Voices down the hall cause you to jump apart. You stare at each other with wide eyes – this is bad. If anyone sees the two of you together, your cover will be absolutely blown. It’s one thing to be seen kissing during Spin the Bottle, it’s another thing to get caught canoodling together in secret. Mr. Aizawa’s whole “no relationships” policy reverberates in your head. If someone were to see you and Shoto and start a rumor about the two of you being together…well, it was only a matter of time before your teacher catches wind of it and puts a swift end to your sexual exploration of Shoto Todoroki.

“Quick. Hide.” Shoto hisses under his breath, as the voices grow nearer. You look at him blankly, a proverbial deer in the headlights. There’s nowhere to hide – you’re in a damn hallway!

Shoto rapidly looks left and then right, searching for a way out. The hall is much too long and neither of you lives on this floor – by the time you manage to get to the end of the hall to the staircase, you would already be caught together. Despite this, Shoto grabs your hand and pulls you down the hall in the direction of the stairs. He stops in front of a door and wrenches it open, roughly pushing you inside. You yelp in surprise as you trip over something and almost fall to the ground. Shoto scoops you up in his strong hero arms and closes the door behind you both with a soft thud.

You try to take in your surroundings, but the room is dim and crowded with shadowy objects. It takes you a moment to piece together where you are.

“Oh my God – this is the janitorial closet. I didn’t even think to hide here.” You breathe out, realizing that you had just tripped over a mop. Shoto nods and presses against you in the small space, his tense body imploring you to keep quiet.

The voices get louder, and you realize that its Kirishima and Mina discussing something heatedly.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Eijiro says roughly. “In front of everyone. Mina, that was really shitty of you.”

“Well excuse me – weren’t you saying just last week that you wanted to kiss me? You wrote me that little note and everything. ‘Oh Mina, I think about your lips every day.’ Or some poetic shit like that. I didn’t think you’d have a problem with it.” Your pink friend shoots back defensively, her tone scalding hot.

“Mina…Mina I’ve been wanting to kiss you so damn badly. But not like that. Not in front of all our friends and classmates.” Eijiro says in a deflated sort of tone, the fight seeping out of him. “That wasn’t how I pictured our first kiss going.”

“Oh, so you’re embarrassed by me? Well you can fuck all the way off then.” Mina says almost shrilly, completely missing the point Kirishima is trying to make.

“Really, Mina? You really mean that? You’re acting like you don’t know me at all.” Eijiro sounds heartbroken, yet angry. “Fine. Enjoy the rest of the lame party – I’m going to bed.”

“Eijiro – wait.” Mina says, her tone panicky. She clearly wasn’t expecting things to go this way.

“No. I need some time alone.” He says soundly, adding: “I need you to respect my personal space for once.” His tone is cold as ice. He stomps off down the hall to return to his room, clearly finished with the conversation. You can just picture Mina looking after him, crestfallen.

You hear let out a loud Mina groan of frustration. She lands a hard kick on the janitor closet door and you nearly jump out of your skin at the unexpected bang! After a moment, you hear her footsteps headed back down the hall and towards the party.

Your heart sinks a bit. Mina has been mooning over Kirishima for a while now, and you know that this confrontation is likely to crush her boisterous spirit. However, you think that if Kirishima was uncomfortable with the kiss, he has the right to air his grievances. After all, hadn’t the teachers been trying to teach you all about the importance of consent in relationships? You chew on your lip, not sure how to feel about the situation. Mina had certainly pushed things a bit too far for certain classmates with her exuberant approach to Spin the Bottle. She is definitely going to need to learn to have a bit more empathy and situational awareness when it comes to handling crowds as a Pro Hero – not everyone appreciates being told what to do.

“I should go after her.” You whisper to Shoto, who’s still holding you securely to his chest.

 “This seems like a private matter between Kirishima and Aishido. She sounds angry and may want to be left alone. Plus…how would you explain how you overheard them arguing?” He has a good point there – you’re not sure how you would explain to your friend that you were ease dropping on her from inside of the janitor’s closet. “I think you need to give her a couple of minutes to sit with this.”

“And when did you become so great at reading social interactions?” You say, half teasingly. “Weren’t you just telling me you weren’t great at things like this?”

You can picture Shoto’s bright smile in the dark. “I just know that if I were in either of their shoes, I would need some time alone to process my thoughts and feelings. And I’m fairly unhappy on Kirishima’s behalf. It seems like everyone could use some time to cool off.”

“Ugh…you’re right, Shoto. I know you’re right.” You try to put yourself in Mina’s shoes as well. You bet she’s feeling pretty embarrassed right now and likely needs a hot minute.

“I think maybe I need to get better at sorting through my feelings.” Shoto says thoughtfully. “I appreciate the way you are able to guide me through processing how I feel, but I would like to get to a point where I can do that on my own. The better I become at managing my emotions and feelings, the less likely I’ll be to lash out at people the way my father does.”

In response, you reach up and caress his soft face. Now that you’re alone, he easily leans into the touch in a way that’s heartbreakingly sweet. He lets you run your hand through his bangs and into his hair, touching him so gently that he lets out a soft sigh of contentment at the contact. You almost forgot what a sucker he is for a light touch.

“You, Shoto Todoroki, are a good person.” You say as you continue to comb your fingers through his soft hair. “You are not your father. You are soft and sweet and strong.” He closes his eyes, focusing on your voice and your gentle touch in the dark. “You are good.”

His eyes flutter closed and he leans into your touch. He breathes slowly and deeply, you can tell he’s savoring this time with you. You try to commit this moment to memory – the smooth curve of his cheek, the steady beat of his breathing, the way his long lashes flutter as he opens his mismatched eyes to look at you.

“Thank you.” He breathes, turning his head so he can plant a soft kiss on the palm of your hand. “Thank you.” He says again more quietly, bringing his hand up to cover your own as he presses his lips to the pulse point of your wrist.

You stand like that for a bit, breathing together in the thick darkness of the janitor closet. With a thrill, you realize how trope-y it is to be alone with a hot guy in a closet during a big illegal party. You feel like you’re in a high school romcom or something. Based on what he says next, Shoto seems to be having the same train of thought.

“I like it when you remind me that I’m a good person, and that I’ll be a good hero. Your confidence – it gives me so much strength.” Shoto pauses and interlaces his hand with your own, bringing your waffling hands down to rest at your hip.

“You know…” Shoto says slyly, eyes wide and endless as he throws you a hot gaze. “I like being good. But being locked in this closet with you, while all of our friends are just a few feet away…well, I’d kind of like to be a little bad for a moment.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“What do you mean?” You ask, surprised at the sudden shift in his tone.

“Let me show you.” He says, his voice dropping lower as he drops your hand and moves to reposition you both.

He easily spins you around so that your back is now against his chest. He places his hands on your hips – and it’s not the gentle way Honenuki had held your hips earlier. No, Shoto is being rough on purpose. This is a side you’ve never seen of him before. And goddamn you love it. Your pussy comes to life at the motion. You make a mental note to invest in more panties – Shoto is really giving your underwear drawer a run for its money today.

Todoroki’s fingers hold you in a grip that’s almost bruising as he presses against you. He slowly kisses a trail up the back of your neck before sliding his hands up over your top. He reaches your breasts and begins to knead them lightly over the fabric of your shirt and bra. You groan at the unexpected sensual contact, feeling a spark flare in between your legs in response to Shoto’s touches.

“I’m still feeling a little jealous of the way Honenuki was able to kiss you in front of everyone. Would it be alright if I…explored those feelings?” Shoto finds your nipple through your bra and gives it a pert squeeze.

“W-what do you mean?” You practically purr out as he returns his lips to the curve of your neck.

“Let me show you how jealous you made me.” He whispers wetly into your ear, tracing soft circles around your clothed breasts with his fingertips. You feel yourself start to get wet from the simple motion.

“Dude we shouldn’t – there’s no lock on this door.” You try to resist temptation as he continues to plant kisses on your exposed skin. Maybe if you’re stealthy the two of you can sneak up the stairs and into one of your dorm rooms? You’ll need to be careful, though; especially with both Classes A and B all buzzed and hanging out in the dorm building.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ve got it covered.” Shoto says, and you can hear a smile in his voice. He releases a hand from one of your boobs and reaches out to grasp the door handle. In the low light coming in under the doorjamb, you watch as he freezes the doorknob shut, a sheet of ice running across the knob and part of the door. “No one can get in now. No accidental interruptions.”

Okay, you were totally not expecting that.

“Honenuki made you this jealous?” You ask as he wipes a few ice crystals onto his pant leg.

“Yeah. I’m feeling kind of…aggressive? Possessive?” Shoto tries to name the emotions pumping through his veins like fire. “I want to show you that I can give you things that Honenuki can’t.”

“I thought I already made it pretty clear that I like you more than Honenuki, Todoroki.” You tease; he puts his hands on your hips again and pulls you back into him. You can feel him starting to become hard against the smooth curve of your ass. He grinds into you slowly and you gasp at the contact.

“I know, and I’m grateful you’re reminding me. But I still feel an overwhelming need to show you – physically.” He draws you into his arms, his head dropping onto your shoulder. “Would you be up for something new?”

You don’t even need to think. “Yes.” You feel something electric and hot zipping through your veins – what could Shoto possibly have in mind? Despite his claimed feelings of “aggression,” he’s still being so sweet and gentle with his words. You muse that even though Shoto has a flame burning brightly inside of him, this Todoroki is nothing like his father.

“Would you be okay with me…using my teeth a bit? I’d really like to leave a hickey on your skin.” He nuzzles your neck with his nose, causing goose bumps to break out across your body at the touch.

“Y-yeah.” You stutter out, absolute putty in his hands. “Just nothing too big. Make sure it can be easily hidden under my clothing. You know Mr. Aizawa’s rules about hooking up.”

“Now why,” Shoto plants a kiss on your neck. “Would you” another kiss “mention Mr. Aizawa at a time like this?” He’s teasing. Had someone asked you a month ago if Shoto Todoroki was capable of teasing, you would have said absolutely not. But now this beautiful boy is kissing your neck and roasting the hell out of you. Jeez.

“Alright. I’m going to go very slowly, and I’ll do it on your shoulder just to be sure it doesn’t show.” He continues to kiss down your neck and towards your collarbone.

He brings his hand up to your collar so he can move the fabric of your top aside to expose more skin. “Can I take off your shirt? It might make things easier.” He gets back to kissing as he awaits your confirmation.

“Please!” Is all you manage to choke out as you feel his tongue run across your clavicle. He drops his hands down to the hem of your shirt and slowly pulls it upwards, the soft fabric flowing against your sensitive skin like a river. You raise your arms up above your head and he guides the top up and over your head, your hair becoming staticky as he goes.

“Much better.” He breathes as he carefully places the shirt on a nearby shelf of cleaning supplies.

You stand there in your bra and shiver as the cool air hits the bare skin of your stomach. “Oh no, you’re cold.” Shoto brings his hot hand down to rest on your belly and modulates his temperature with his quirk, slowly warming you up. Satisfied with your body temperature, he resumes kissing across your shoulder. He uses the colder of his hands to lightly pull your bra strap down your shoulder so he has better access to your smooth skin.

“Alright, you ready?” He asks calmly, tracing over your collarbone with his cold finger. You shiver, this time with anticipation.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Shoto ghosts the edge of his teeth across the length of your shoulder before choosing a spot close to your neck.

“Holy Fuck, Shoto.” You hiss out and you can feel him smile against your shoulder as he sinks his teeth lightly into your delicate skin and sucks, leaving a tiny mark. He kisses the area repeatedly before sucking on the skin more roughly, ensuring that a small bruise will form. After a few moments more, he runs his tongue soothingly along the hickey. At this point you’re dripping wet with both of your hands holding on to Shoto’s hot arm for dear life.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He says, almost smug as he traces an icy finger across his handy work. “What would you like me to do next?”

“Touch me, please.” You whine out, almost desperately. Shoto obliges, bringing both his hands back to your breasts to play with your nipples over your bra.

“Like this?” He asks softly, continuing to kiss and suck along your shoulder.

“I need more!” You throw your head back into his chest, and he runs the palm of his cold hand down your toned stomach. He pauses his hand just above the waistband of your skirt.

“You know…” Shoto breathes thickly as he continues to feel your tummy under his fingertips. “I’ve always been attracted to how muscular you are.” This takes you by surprise.

“Really?” You manage to whisper out, you try to ignore the way that your cunt is throbbing with need between your legs. “Sometimes I convince myself that you’d go for someone more petite and feminine.”

Shoto pauses, drumming his fingers thoughtfully against the smooth expanse of your waist. With each movement of his fingers, you can practically imagine how it would feel to have him repeat the rhythm on your clit.

“Hm. No.” He seems to be deep in thought. “I’m attracted to the way you take care of yourself and train to be a good hero. Sometimes…” He pauses and licks his lips, sounding a bit embarrassed as he says this next part. “Sometimes I get turned on when I see you lifting in the gym. Or when I see you throw one of our classmates across the mat during sparring practice. Your strength is just so…sexy.” He says the last word low with want before he presses a hot kiss to your neck.

“Oh!” You know he’s not intentionally talking dirty to you - but the way he’s praising you and divulging his secret horniness for your strength is so damn hot. You can’t believe you ever wondered if he’d go for a more petite girl like Fujita. The way he’s praising your physique and workout routine is too genuine, too adoring. Too horny.

“You like watching me bench press?” You say cheekily, recalling a moment a few months ago when you had made awkward eye contact with Shoto at the gym. At the time, you’d thought it was just a coincidence – your eyes had accidentally met while you were completing some reps on the bench and he was doing pull ups nearby. But now that he had divulged his attraction to your lifting…

“Yes.” He buries his face in your neck, radiating heat. “The look in your eyes when you bench. Fuck.”

“How hard are you right now, Shoto?” You groan, rolling your ass against him. He makes a noise in the back of his throat in answer to your question. “Yeah that’s what I thought. Unzip your pants – I want to give you a handy.” You start to pull away from him so you can turn around, but he holds you fast in his arms.

“No.” He says soundly, surprising you. You’re certain that most men aren’t quick to turn down a hand job. “I appreciate the offer, but there’s something else I want to do right now. If you’re up for it.”

“Oh yeah?” This whole situation is unexpected – hooking up in a closet during a secret party? Yeah, definitely not on your UA bucket list. You tilt your head so you can look at him more clearly. His eyes are stormy, his hair mussed up just so. He looks so devastatingly hot and needy, you practically cum on the spot.

“I’ve been wondering…” He says quietly, running a finger back and forth on your lower stomach, causing your pussy to quiver in your panties. “What would it feel like to touch you…more intimately?”

“More intimately?” You squeak, and you feel his fingers slide under the elastic waistband of your skirt, tracing gently across the delicate skin of your waist. You feel your pulse quicken as you realize what he’s getting at. He kisses up your neck and you feel his breath in your ear – hot and wet. He traces his fingers across the waistband of your panties now, moving his fingertips in a slow, circular motion. You’re so wet you can barely stand it. It’s not a stretch for your brain and body to imagine how that motion would feel on your bare pussy.

“Ever since you gave me a hand job for the first time…well, I’ve been wanting to return the favor.” Shoto says softly, and your brain feels like its full of static. Is he saying what you think he’s saying? He wants to finger you and get you off?!

Of course, you’ve thought about this scenario before. You’ve gotten off to it about a dozen times – picturing the way that Shoto’s fingers would feel curled up inside of you and pulsing against your most intimate spot. But you’ve never been touched before like that, and to be perfectly honest you weren’t sure how to ask Shoto if he’d be up for it. In your mind, a dick is so much more straightforward. Just jerk at it and eventually you’re likely to get it right, right? Would it take Shoto a while to figure out the complexities of female anatomy? What if he thinks it’s gross how wet you get, or how gooey you feel inside?

You blush at the thought, but your body is so needy for him that you shove all of your insecurities away and lean more into his touch. Clearly he’s wanted to do this for some time. And everyone needs to start somewhere before mastery, so he might as well do it for the first time with you, right?

His fingers flutter just above the hem of your skort, uncertain. You shimmy your hips lightly, encouraging him to go further. He sucks in a breath and moves his fingertips smoothly under your waistband, feeling the gentle pull of the elastic. His movements are confident and precise – you wonder if his actions are partially fueled by his raucous jealousy of Honenuki, because after a moment of playing with your skort’s waistband, he slides his fingers beneath the thin fabric of your panties to explore your pussy.

You groan at the sudden contact – his strong fingers fan gently across your vulva, taking in the feel of it. Experimentally, he traces a single finger between your lips and dips it towards your core.

“You’re so…wet.” He barely breathes out into your ear as he swipes his finger around the lips of your pussy, feeling your slick spread across his fingers. He unintentionally hits your clit and you moan at how good his calloused finger feels against you. He mimics the motion, eliciting another sweet sigh from your lips.

“Oh…does that feel good?” He whispers as he rubs a slow circle around the spot, testing the waters. You nod breathlessly as you enjoy the way he’s playing with you. He caresses you like that for a big, letting you really get a feel for his fingers. You groan when he draws his hand away, wanting him to continue on.

He lifts his hand to his mouth and starts sucking on his pointer and index fingers.

“Shoto, what are you - ?” But you shut up as he slips the hand back beneath your skort, his saliva covered finger doing wet loop-di-loops around your clit in a way that makes you see stars. “Jesus – fuck! Shoto! Sho…” You start mumbling nonsense as he pleasures you, drawing a finger down to poke at your entrance.

“Can I…can I go inside?” Shoto whispers thickly, asking for your consent.

“Yes. Yeah. Please.” You’re practically begging. He wastes no time and slowly slips inside you. You’re so wet and turned on that you take his finger into you easily. As he softly pushes a finger into your needy cunt, you can’t help but moan at the light stretch. You’ve never felt so full before. Your pussy clenches around his finger and he gasps at the slight constriction. He starts to slowly thrust his finger in and out of your pussy, letting you enjoy the feel of the smooth penetration.

“I’d like to see Honenuki do this.” He whispers as he finger fucks you softly. You whimper in reply.

“I have something to admit.” You gasp out as he continues to finger you, slowly slipping his pointer finger in and out of your slick entrance and gauging your reaction.

“What?” He says absentmindedly, completely focused on the way your gummy walls squeeze his finger with each light thrust. You wonder if he’s imagining how his cock would feel pushing into your tight heat.

“You know how we used Mineta as a distraction to get Mr. Vlad King away from the party?” You say breathlessly.

“Yeah.” He kisses the side of your neck, wet and open-mouthed.

“Well I promised that in exchange for his help…I’d kiss him.”

Shoto pauses his movements, causing you to moan at the loss of friction. He then shifts his position, leaning so that his back is against the door. He places his free hand on your stomach, his other hand still between your legs. He pushes you forward so you’re almost bent double. He slides his fingers around your swollen clit before slipping back inside your entrance. He adds a second finger, stretching you our and pushing into your core insistently. He starts to thrust his fingers inside you at an almost brutal pace that causes the air to leave your lungs. Your ass bounces relentlessly against his clothed cock as he works at you.

“I’m going to need you to stop.” Thrust. “Kissing.” Thrust. “Other.” Thrust. “People.”

The authority seeping into his voice, paired with his two skillful fingers pushing inside you are too much to bear. If it weren’t for Shoto’s strong hand holding your stomach and anchoring you, your shaking legs would be giving out right now. Your pussy flexes and flutters around his hungry fingers, pushing you over the edge.

“S-Shoto. Shoto! I’m gonna…I’m gonna…”

“Please, Y/N.” Shoto groans from somewhere near your shoulder, sounding desperate. “I want to feel you finish around my fingers.”

And that’s literally all it takes.

His needy words bring you to the brink and you try to stifle a moan of satisfaction as you cum on Shoto’s capable fingertips. It’s so delicious and oh so terribly dirty. Your legs continue to shake and your head falls back against Shoto’s steady body as you absolutely lose yourself to your pleasure. You don’t give a fuck if anyone hears you, you’re too far gone as you cry out “Shoto!” over and over, relishing the way his name sounds on your lips. It’s like an oath, a prayer as you ride out your orgasm in this tiny supply closet. You almost forget that mere feet away, the biggest party the UA dorms have ever seen is continuing to rage. You vaguely wonder what your classmates would think if they knew how slutty you are, drunk on the feel of Shoto’s hand in your panties.

Shoto gets a feel for your orgasm and tries to match the pace of your frantic hips – he’s a gentleman, after all. He wants to help you ride it out as long as possible. He lets out a moan of pleasure as you thrust and grind back into him with abandon. The swell of your ass bouncing back against his cock is too much, and you hear Shoto curse under his breath.

When you finally stop thrusting back into his fingers, he takes the hint and slowly slides his hand out from your pants. His fingers are absolutely soaked.

You watch in awe as he brings his hand to his lips without hesitation, sucking for a moment on fingers covered in your slick. “Wow.” She says quietly. “You taste…really good.”

“Jesus Christ Shoto.” You say, shaky legs nearly buckling under the weight of his hotness. He wraps his hand around your waist, holding you steady. He ghosts a kiss across the nape of your neck, your shoulder, wherever he can reach at this odd angle. You stand there in silence until your breathing slows – your back against his chest.

He smells amazing, intoxicating. You don’t think he’s wearing cologne – but he’s covered in this indescribably clean, expensive scent. Your cloudy brain guesses that it’s some kind of fancy shampoo that only old money has access to. You want to bathe in the scent, marinate in it. You try to commit it to your memory.

Shoto’s chest rises and falls in time with your own breathing. It’s gentle and it anchors you to the moment. It makes you long for bed – if only it was the end of the night already. If you could sink to the ground, you could probably fall asleep on the closet’s carpet. You want to tuck yourself into his soft sweater, surrounded by that delicious expensive shampoo scent. He holds you to him, giving no sign that he wants to let go.

When your soul finally finds its way back into your body, you shake your head to clear it a bit.

“Shoto…” You whisper, voice thick and sleepy. “Shoto, can I get you off now baby?”

Shoto smooths his hands over your hips appreciatively. “That’s alright…I, um. I’m fine.”

You blink awake, brain rapidly putting the pieces together. You think back to the way you were insistently rocking your ass against him, the way he had cursed under his breath earlier as he worked you up to your orgasm.

“Holy shit. Shoto did you just…? Oh my god. You came in your pants didn’t you?” You step forward and away from him, and his hands release you easily. You turn to look him up and down, eyes wide.

Shoto meets your eyes, cheeks red with shame. His pants are absolutely ruined – you can see the damp spot where his dick is pressed up against the fabric.

“Touching you like that…it was too much. And the way you were grinding on me. I couldn’t…” You can tell he’s ashamed from the way his voice wavers and dips. He doesn’t even attempt to cover himself, he just lets his arms hang at his sides uselessly.

“Shoto – no. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about!” You quickly try to reassure him. His eyes are bright with humiliation as he looks down at himself. “You just need to throw those pants into the wash and everything will be good as new.”

Shoto actually chuckles at this, the mood in the tiny closet shifting and instantly becoming lighter.

“Y/N…you’re just so sweet. I can’t even begin to explain to you the things you do to me.” He reaches out and drags you back into his arms. “I’ve never been so attracted to someone in my life.” He squeezes his arms lightly around you, holding you to him. Your hair is soft against his cheek as he snakes up hand to hold the nape of your neck. No one’s ever held you like this, so tenderly.

He exhales softly, his breath warm as it lightly tussles your hair. “We should get back to the party, shouldn’t we?”

“Can we just go clean up and go to bed?” You say, your voice drawling lazily. “We can sneak up to my room and snuggle up with my plushies. We can sleep in tomorrow.”

“That’s tempting.” Shoto presses a kiss to your temple. “But I think that the party crew is going to miss their leader. And I think that Mina could use a friend.”

He’s right. You know he’s right.

“Yeah.” You take a deep breath in. “And Hatsume can’t hold off Mr. King forever. I should check in with her.”

“That crazy support course girl is involved in this?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“That genius crazy support course girl is involved in this.” You amend, laughing quietly. “Let’s get out of here, Shoto.”

He nods and scoots away from you so he can place his hot hand on the frozen doorknob. Steam fills the room as he melts down the ice around the door and you marvel at how much control he has over his quirk.

He cracks open the door to the hall and you both blink uncomfortably in the light that shines into the closet with a brightness that’s almost violent. Shoto pops his head into the hall and quickly comes back inside to huddle up next to you.

“It’s all clear, Y/N. I’m going to head up to my room and change. See you back at the party?”

You nod, suddenly all business. “See you back at the party, Shoto.”

You both dart out into the long empty hall, going your separate ways. You skitter up to your room to change your panties and tame your hair. Shoto veers off towards his dorm to change out of his own pants.

Neither of you notices the pair of sunglasses that lies abandoned on the closet floor.

End of Chapter 8

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Author's Notes:

Okay hey fam!

How we doin'!? I hope it was worth the wait for Chapter 8!

I'm dying to know how you all felt about these latest Spin the Bottle developments 👀 Quite a few of you predicted that The Reader would end up "kissing" Honenuki and I love that! Honestly I think that Juzo Honenuki would be SUPER hot in bed 🤷‍♀️ He's so sweet and tender and idk the skeleton face is cool AF. Honestly happy to be back in the "smut zone" with this chapter - I hope you enjoyed the spicy scene towards the end.

Not gonna lie, this chapter has been the hardest for me to write so far! There are a lot of emotions that are getting processed here - The Reader is trying to learn from her mistakes and give Shoto the benefit of the doubt after she assumed that Shoto and Momo were hooking up. But she's jealous that Shoto kissed someone else and she wants to talk about it! Shoto is processing the fact that he didn't want to participate in the game in the first place! It brings out a lot of his insecurities! PLUS he is jealous AF when he sees Honenuki smooch our dear Reader! On top of that...literally everyone is horny in this chapter. Writing the dialogue for the post-kiss discussion between Shoto and the Reader this was TOUGH!

Also I'm getting way too precious with this story and trying to make it something that satisfies everyone/avoids plot holes. I think I will need to be a little less strict with myself about the plot here to keep things fun and keep updates going regularly. This story is pushing me a lot as a writer and I'm excited about that! But TBH I'm also just here to have some smutty literary fun. This is my first long form fic so I'm gonna try to give myself some more grace as I write.

Anyway...that's all for now folks! I hope you have a lovely New Year! I can't wait to see all the good things that 2025 has in store for all of us! <3

XOXO,

Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

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❄️🔥THE ICYTHOTS🔥❄️

Want to join or be removed from the tag list - let me know! Once again, this is an ADULT ONLY blog. The IcyThot club is exclusively dedicated to the Shoto's First Kiss series and will only include A18+. Do not request to be added unless you are over 18. If your blog is ageless/your age isn't listed in the bio you cannot be an IcyThot member! I'm also adding the "sexual content" label/tags.

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[lullabyes22-blog]

Hi lullabyes, would u mind sharing your take on the flashback with young Silco, Vander, and Felicia? :O

It's adorable. It's touching. It's sweet. It's a serene moment of intimacy and family (or polycule) bonding in an otherwise deeply frenetic season.

It's also so surreal it may as well be a fever dream.

I should note, at this stage I've shut off my cognitive reasoning about Arcane and begun approaching this as if it's a series of exquisitely crafted, animated short films that are all about to collide into a beautiful disaster.

Because that's what it is.

S2 has thrown a lot of the intelligent plotting out the window to embrace the chaos.  Whether due to time constraints, intellectual fatigue, or creative indulgence, I feel like we have a show that's now just hurtling breakneck towards the finish line. Previous story threads that once held weight and were the driving force behind character arcs and subplots, have since been abandoned. Nuanced motivations and character growth are being tossed to the wayside for the sake of action, montages, music videos, and a cavalier, anything-goes approach to world-building.

And yet, it's still such an incredible spectacle to behold.

@ravenkinnie delightfully noted that she is now watching this show with her pussy.

I agree 100%. S2 is a full-body experience, and one I find myself wholly consumed by. It's like a one-night stand you weren't expecting to be so fucking good. And when the sun comes up, you know it's going to hurt to say goodbye, and there'll be no follow-up call.

But damn, you enjoyed the shit out of that experience.

So yeah, the flashback was fucking adorable. I love the genuine emotion and closeness between the three characters. I adore the idea of Felicia, Silco and Vander being childhood friends (or, again, a very messy polycule) and both men sort of falling apart without her Manic Pixie Dream Girl presence in their lives. It's a nice little character arc.

However.

I cannot reconcile this scene with the rest of S1. It feels completely disconnected from the reality of the show and the world around them. The flashback has absolutely no impact on the current events, nor does it have any foreshadowing. The flashback exists solely to provide us with a glimpse into the past, with sweet little parallels to serve as bonbons that make us coo and sigh. It completely glosses over Silco's deeply, blackly visceral hatred of Vi in S1, reduces the class struggle culminating in the Day of Ash to "Oh, Silco. If only you've protested for your basic civil rights in a peaceful manner instead of tossing a molotov cocktail, you'd still have your family, a place in the community, not to mention your eye," does not really explain why Benzo reacted to Silco's appearance by calling him an animal, and, most importantly, gives the lie to the entire dynamic between Silco and Jinx.

We were led to believe that Felicia's death was the catalyst for Silco and Vander's falling out.  That if Silco had found Vander's letter in their little Brokeback bunk, they would've worked out their differences and found peace together. That they'd have raised Felicia's anklebiters side-by-side as the Zaundads of the revolution.

Except Silco is also the man selling Evil Anime PCP (Shimmer) as an economic cheat-code to earn respect for his people, and Vander is basically Captain Centrist and traumatized by war, and there is NO WAY they would've seen eye-to-eye on their respective methods. There's no way they would've come to any sort of accord. And there's no way Silco would've forgiven the man who mutilated and left him possibly sheared of half his lifespan, any more than Felicia's children would forgive the man who killed their mother.

It's such an incongruous narrative beat.

Which brings me to the other point:

Silco and Jinx.

imo, while I love the idea of Silco carrying either a secret torch for Felicia, or seeing her as a sister he'll always love, and while I absolutely treasure the idea of Jinx being a daily reminder of what he's fighting for - "I'm doing this for us, Jinx." - it sort of cheapens the key connection between them. In S1, Silco and Jinx's arc is, in my eyes, one of the best things about the series, and so incredibly well-written and executed. Silco is a monster, yes, but his monstrosity is the product of systemic and individual trauma, and the inextricable bleedthrough between the two. Finding this little girl and bringing her up under his wing, he has the chance to be the steadying hand and safe harbor he lost after Vander's betrayal. His monstrousness is not something he inflicts on her; it is something that, rather, grows on JInx like a kudzu vine, as the terrain of her damaged mind is already fertile for his worldview and methods to take root and thrive.

He is, perhaps, the best example of nurture triumphing over nature, even if his nurturing is rather, uh, extreme.

But if their bond is predicated on Felicia, rather than two strangers finding each other in the wilderness of heartbreak and learning to let their black hearts beat, messily entwined, as one family unit, and if Silco's obsession with Jinx is merely a projection of his guilt for killing her mother, and, by extension, a projection of his love for Felicia onto her daughter...

It's just.

Do y'all remember those uncomfortable frames that the showrunners admitted were deliberate, despite the evidence in the written text suggesting a familial bond? The subtext that, all the way into S2, carries the implication of a romantic relationship between a father and his daughter?

Well.

The implications now threaten to melt into explicit text, and the uncomfortable frames have turned into Unfortunate Implications, and I am not sure how I feel about this.

 It's not giving Lily and Snape; it's giving Sansa and Baelish.

It's giving the showrunners a big, fat "YEESH" rating from CPS.

And it's giving us the same, old, tired trope of a monstrous man unable to form an attachment unless it's through the lens of prior attachments, that whole 'You remind me so much of her' and the like.

 (I also admit I am the world's biggest hypocrite as the entire premise of Forward but Never Forget/XOXO is that the core foursome of Vander, Silco, Lika and Sevika knew each other, and that those ghosts haunt the machinery of the present day. But I try my damnedest to make plain there's politics buffeting all these relationships, and despite all their efforts to claw at self-sovereignty, reinvention and a new order, the past is a stubborn bitch that refuses to let go.)

(Also in FnF, Silco is triggered by Lika rather than into her in any affectionate or romantic way, because they're so similar: pragmatic survivors who aren't above rule-bending to get their way, and at their core just want a smoke break, a stiff drink, and a nap. It's a mutual respect rather than an affection, which is why she bestows on him the dubious honor of mercy killing her if she's too wounded on the Day of Ash to continue on.)

(He's the one person who could, and would, do her the service. It's kinship, and Jinx is the bright torch of their shared ambitions and ingenuity given both wing and voice.)

But anyway.

The flashback is a fever-dream. The kind you have when you're high on cold meds and can't think straight, and the world is a blur of sensations and memories that seem vivid in the moment but melt away into madness when you're better. It's a scene meant to be savored rather than interrogated. And I think if the showrunners had the time and inclination, we would've gotten a second episode solely dedicated to the flashback, rather than shoehorning it in. But since they're clearly trying to tie everything up with a neat bow before the finale, I don't blame them for having to skim past it and focus on the vibes/emotional resonance rather than the substance of a meaningfully written scene.

But hey.

Fanfic writers will have a field day with the open-ended dynamic and the fandom will never fucking stop, so that's nice.

Also we got loads of fantastic gifs of Young Silco. Bless.

<3

tl;dr: I've switched my critical brain off and decided to just enjoy the ride. It's so fucking epic. 

Also, Felicia was delightful and I hope her brotherhood/polycule/whatever with Silco and Vander gets its own spinoff, a la Road to El Dorado (or Zaun.)