#I HAVE MENTIONED IT BEFORE AHHHH | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kimkaelyn · 1 year ago

Text

Ditto [s. todoroki]

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒, 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓃𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝒮𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉, 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀, 𝑜𝒽 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜 — 𝒟𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜, 𝒩𝑒𝓌𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈

→ summary: when you transferred to U.A., you didn't anticipate slipping on a pair of chopsticks in the middle of the crowded cafeteria during your first week. however, what was more surprising was the unexpected fall for the boy who gracefully caught you.

→ pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader

→ genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers

→ word count: 13.1k

→ warnings & tags: sfw, female pronouns are used, usage of y/n l/n, Class 1-A are now third-year students aka 18+, swearing, the usual U.A. chaos, reader has a Quirk, misunderstandings, some training violence, minor injuries, mentions and discussions of insecurities, aizawa briefly belittles the reader as a form of motivation, beginnings of a panic attack but it's cut short, there is one instance of the reader appearing to be ‘flushed’ in regards to a fever, since this is my first bnha fic some characters might be ooc? | please kindly let me know if I missed any tags!

→ author's note: AHHHH HERE IT IS! I've been working on this for almost a year now and I am so excited to finally share it with all of you. Honestly, I didn't think I would ever finish this story, but I kept slowly chipping away at it thanks in part to the encouragement from @andypantsx3, @missrosegold, and @getstarried. Special thanks to @pikatsum for beta-reading this for me! Thank you girls. This is for you🫶🏻

The cafeteria at U.A. High School was a pretty chaotic environment, you quickly learned within your first week after transferring from another Hero Course in the countryside. There were multiple things that could and would happen after the famous students had gotten some much-needed nutrients in their systems.

It was only three days into the school year and nothing had happened just yet, but in the U.A. world, that something was overdue.

The first chaotic event of the year that everyone had been anxiously—or in some cases, excitingly—waiting for happened on Thursday.

The day started off average; you got to school with three minutes to spare, which was a new record, but you had forgotten your pencil pouch in your dorm room, so you had to borrow some pencils from a girl who sat in front of you; Mina Ashido.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you took the pastel pink utensil from her. There was even a cute little fluffy puffball at the end in exchange for an eraser. Good thing you had an eraser in your bag.

“No problem! I gotcha!” She physically lit up and gave you a bright smile before turning back to focus on the blackboard.

You somehow managed to get through your morning classes running on the four hours of sleep you got the night before. You were cutting it quite close to passing out at your desk during calculus class, but you were saved by the lunch bell.

As soon as you stepped foot into the hallway, you were wrapped up in the faint, delicious scent of your favorite food coming from the cafeteria. Your mouth instantly watered, and you made a mad dash for the source of the delicious scent.

“Hey!” a sharp voice made you freeze in your steps. You glanced over your shoulder to find Tenya Iida, Class 3-A’s representative, glaring at you. The light reflecting off his glasses made him appear more threatening than he really was, but regardless, you still found yourself shying away from his harsh glare and rapid-moving hands. As they passed by, some students gave you apologetic smiles while others were not shy about openly staring at the scene before them, wondering what you possibly could have done to induce the wrath of the student representative. “There is to be no running in the halls!” You cowered some more at his brisk and overly formal tone.

Geez, what a stuck-up, you thought to yourself.

“My apologies, Iida.” You respond with a bow. He accepted your apology with a curt nod before he continued on his way to the cafeteria.

You waited for him to pass before rising from your bow. “Wow, he makes it feel like I broke the law or something.” You mused aloud.

“Don’t take it personally,” a comforting voice said from behind you. You turned to find Momo Yaoyorozu, Ochako Uraraka, and Tsuyu Asui standing before you. Ochako gave you a slight wave in greeting. “Iida can be quite demanding,” Yaoyorozu reassured you.

“Thank you.”

Tsuyu regarded you with gentle onyx eyes. “It’s L/N, right?”

You smiled, happy that she remembered your name from roll call. “Y-yeah! I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduced yourself. “I, um, already know who you guys are.” You suddenly felt shy, and you bashfully rubbed the back of your neck out of nervous habit.

Before your transfer was finalized, you did extensive research into your future school’s history and future classmates. Thankfully—or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it—a lot of information is public knowledge; the various attacks on the school in the year leading up to and the conclusion of the War between the Paranormal Liberation Front and the Heroes, not to mention the various televised sports festivals, and the fact that the members of Class 1-A are practically household names even before their graduation.

The girls invited you to sit with them in the cafeteria. You had been keeping to yourself the first few days of school, choosing to observe from afar the already established social circles and friend groups. You had waited for an invitation to join one of said groups, and here was your opportunity.

The four of you made small talk as you made your way through the lunch line and to the table. Right away, Asui told you to call her by her given name. You told them about your life growing up in the countryside—with you and Uraraka bonding over your shared reason for becoming Pro Heroes—about the friends you had, embarrassingly funny stories from your junior high days, and eventually what led you to transfer to U.A.

“Well, this is the best Hero Course in the country!” you all laughed. “But to be frank, the only teacher at my old academy who could handle my Quirk retired, and none of the other academies within the prefecture had the resources to help me advance. Plus, my mentor is an U.A. alumnus, so naturally, the only other choice was U.A.”

Yaoyorozu hummed. “It is a shame about your mentor retiring, but that is what led you to transfer to U.A., and for that, I am grateful.” The class vice representative regarded you kindly. “I am a firm believer of things happening for a reason, and your transfer doesn’t change that.”

Uraraka nodded her agreement. “Momo’s right. U.A. is a place where anybody can make a difference, and I think you will find success here.”

You were rendered speechless. The tips of your ears turned red as your classmates regarded you with so much hope and sincerity in their eyes. “Uh . . . I,” you bashfully scratched the back of your head. Not knowing how to respond, you instead reached for the small bottle of milk on your lunch tray and brought it to your lips.

However, before you could take a sip, a BOOM erupted from the front of the cafeteria, accompanied by a gruff voice yelling, “Don’t walk in front of me, Icy-Hot!” You reflexively jolted at the loud noises and lost your grip on the glass, spilling the half-full bottle all over the front of your uniform.

“Shit,” you exclaimed as you instinctually rose from your seat, only to quickly sit down again when the liquid started to fall to the floor. The girls gasped and were quick to hand you all the napkins in the vicinity.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Asui asked as she watched you pat down your sodden skirt.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You waved off her concern as you continued to wipe away the remaining liquid. The napkins managed to soak up most of it, but your skirt was still damp. If you didn’t change skirts, you were going to smell of milk for the rest of the day, and you didn’t want to start off the school year with a reputation for smelling vile. “I’m going to go back to the dorm really quickly and change into a clean uniform. Please let Mr. Snipe know that I will be late for class.”

“Do you want us to accompany you?” Yaoyorozu asked. She began to rise from her seat, but you stopped her.

“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You gave her what you hoped to be a reassuring grin instead of a grimace. “Thank you for offering, Yaoyorozu, but I’ll be fine.” Before your classmates could respond, you stood from the table and made your way to the exit.

Great, this is just great, you thought as you walked, not really paying attention to where you were going. As soon as I make some friends, I make a fool of myself.

Unbeknownst to you, there was an obstacle in the aisle directly ahead. You were too distracted by your growing inner turmoil to notice the pair of metal chopsticks lying on the ground before you until your foot made contact and slipped out from under you.

It all happened so fast that you couldn’t even react.

Time froze as you became weightless, and you felt your body become briefly suspended in the air. Before you could react and rotate your body to prevent yourself from violently banging your head on the tiled floor, gravity took hold and yanked you back down toward the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to witness your classmates’ reactions to your misfortune.

Great, now I’m gonna embarrass myself in front of the entire school. Fuck you, chopsticks.

You prepared yourself for the pain of hitting the hard floor but were shocked when you were suddenly wrapped in a chilled warmth. You did slam into a hard surface, but this didn’t feel like the cold tile you expected.

“Are you all right?” a voice asked from above. You opened your eyes, only to find yourself captivated by a beautiful graphite and turquoise gaze. Your mouth opened to respond to the inquiry, but you couldn’t speak. This strange yet calming gaze hypnotized you, causing the rest of the world to fade into a buzzing silence. You watched as the perfect eyebrows of the owner of those magical eyes furrowed downward at your prolonged silence, the action momentarily drawing your attention.

With your attention span no longer zeroed in on the heterochromatic gaze, the world around you suddenly slammed back into your senses at full force. The volume of your fellow classmates’ conversations was deafening at first, but your ears grew accustomed once again to zone them out and focus on the person before you.

It took about thirty seconds for the entirety of your current predicament to register within your brain.

You were hanging about ten centimeters off the ground. The only thing keeping you upright and injury-free was Shouto Todoroki’s firm grip on your wrist.

“Um, hello?” the dual-haired teenager once again drew your attention to him. His grip slightly tightened before he tugged you up onto your feet.

“I think you broke her, Icy-Hot.” A rough voice drawled from your peripheral.

The intrusion of the other voice is what finally brought you out of your stunned silence. “No, I’m okay. Not broken.”

“Did you hit your head?” Todoroki inquired. He steadied you on your feet but didn’t release your wrist from his hold. Katsuki Bakugou was standing off to the side, trying to appear like he wasn’t involved with either one of you.

“I-I don’t think so.” As you reached down to brush yourself off, you caught a whiff of the unflattering scent of old milk emitting from your clothes. You held back your gag and turned to face Todoroki and Bakugou. “I’m sorry to rush, but I really do need to go.” You gave a quick bow. “Thank you for catching me, Todoroki. Bye!”

The two boys watched you sprint away like a bat out of hell. “T’fuck is her problem,” Bakugou muttered. “Fuckin’ extra makin’ me late for lunch.”

Todoroki didn’t respond to his classmate’s remarks. His lips pursed together as he watched you nearly run into a couple of first years before you disappeared around a corner, out of sight.

“Don’ even think ‘bout it, Icy-Hot.” Bakugou drawled from beside him. Todoroki cocked an eyebrow, the only sign of emotion on his otherwise indifferent expression. “Gettin’ involved with ‘hat extra will ruin your precious bloodline.”

You tried to forget about the cafeteria incident, but the embarrassing ordeal refused to secede from the forefront of your mind. As you lay in bed that night, your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers a minute, antagonizing and overanalyzing every second of what had happened.

As the night dragged on, your thoughts shifted from the overall event to one single individual: Shouto Todoroki. You knew who he was, of course. You didn’t grow up underneath a rock. Yet, you weren’t prepared for how much more handsome he was in person than on the news or in photos.

You overanalyzed everything he did in the brief two minutes you were blessed to be in his company, every word he said, and every brief flash of emotion that showed in his heterochromatic eyes. Todoroki had tried to approach you after training in Ground Beta once you had returned from the dorms, but you avoided him, not wanting to face him again so soon after the embarrassing first meeting.

By Sunday, you had begun to forget about your embarrassing cafeteria incident. Your newfound friends didn’t bring up the spilled milk, and thankfully, they didn’t see you slip on the chopsticks and fall into Shouto Todoroki’s muscular arms. You breathed a sigh of relief when you found out that last part. You didn’t want them to think you were a total klutz.

Todoroki may think otherwise.

As you were rounding the corner to walk back up the stairs to head back to your dorm room, Todoroki happened to be walking down. You both turned at the same time and walked straight into each other.

He wasn’t fazed by the sudden collision; however, you were taken completely off guard. No matter how strong you may be, suddenly walking into about a hundred kilos of pure muscle would make anyone stumble. While he remained steadily standing, you, on the other hand, fell back onto your ass.

It took about three seconds for the two of you to comprehend what the hell had just happened. You groaned out when pain flashed across your backside.

“My apologies, I did not see you.” Todoroki said as he offered you a hand. You begrudgingly accepted his assistance, face heating as your super handsome classmate helped you to your feet for the second time in a week.

“Thank you,” you bowed your head to him. You brushed away some dust from your sweatpants, finding yourself too shy to look back up.

You felt a firm, yet gentle hand land on your shoulder. You jerked your head upwards to meet Todoroki’s captivating gaze. “Are you injured?” His heterochromatic eyes searched you for any injury, and they glimmered with relief when he found none.

“No, I’m okay,” you reassured the male. “I may be a little bruised in the morning, but I will be fine.” Not to mention my bruised ego.

Todoroki hummed in acknowledgment, his hand still resting on your shoulder. His eyes were hyper-fixated on you, leaving you to feel bare under his intense gaze.

You shifted your weight back and forth as the silence between you dragged on for a couple more seconds. “Um, I—” You cleared your throat. “I should be on my way now. Got things to study, you know.” You told him with an awkward laugh.

You moved to step around him when it became obvious he wasn’t going to move. Your movements are what must have shaken him out of his stupor, with him bashfully stepping to the side to allow you access to the stairway.

“Right.” He said as you walked by. “Take care, Y/N.” You startled at his sudden usage of your given name, but nevertheless, you felt oddly relieved. You smiled shyly and bid him goodbye. Nothing else was said between the two of you, but you felt his eyes on you as you walked up the stairs.

I hope he likes cinnamon; you thought as you peered into the oven.

To be fair, you should have considered that before laboring for over two hours making kinako cinnamon cookies from scratch—which absolutely failed. Therefore, as a last resort, you were forced to run to the store and buy a box mix.

The he in question?

Shouto Todoroki.

It had been several days since your embarrassing first interaction with the dual-haired male and forty-five hours since your second, literal, run-in—not that you were keeping track, of course.

You wanted to do something nice for him as a way to apologize for your newfound clumsiness and thank him for his assistance in both instances. Your calligraphy skills were not . . . up to par, so to say, by any means, so a handmade thank-you card was off the table, and you highly doubt Todoroki was a flower guy. Not to mention his affluent background, so buying him a gift or offering to take him out to dinner was null—and way too straightforward for two people who were barely even acquaintances.

Therefore, you were left with only one option: homemade cookies.

Besides, all the old aunties back home always said the quickest way to win anyone over was through food.

“Ooooh, something smells amazing!” someone exclaimed from the stairway. Smiling slyly to yourself, you turned away from the oven to the new arrival.

You hadn’t interacted much with Rikido Sato save for the casual good morning greetings and thanking him for the delicious red velvet cupcake he baked for you as a welcoming gift to U.A.

“Thanks,” you said, grinning at the male.

The combined low mutterings of more approaching classmates brought your and Sato’s attention to the doorway where Mina Ashido, Eijirou Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, and Hanta Sero were entering the dorm.

“Woah something smells fantastic!” Kaminari said, gazing into the kitchen in hopes of spotting the source of the delicious scent.

“Yeah, it does!” Kirishima agreed.

“Oh my gosh, what is it?” Ashido asked as she walked over. Her eyes lit up when she spotted you. “L/N! Did you make something?”

“I did.” You confirmed with a slight nod. “I’m making kinako cinnamon cookies.”

“Oooooh, yummy!” the pinkette exclaimed as she bounced over to peer into the oven. Your other classmates quickly joined her, all of them staring into the soft, golden light of the oven with stars in their eyes.

“They look so good!” Kaminari was practically drooling at the tawny treats. At that moment, the timer went off with a soft ting! You politely shooed your classmates back as you pulled a hand towel over your hands.

“Step back, everyone,” you warned as you opened the oven door. “They’re going to be hot.” You carefully reached in and grabbed the cooking tray, cautiously sliding it off the rack and fully into your cloth-covered hands. Despite taking precautions, you hissed as the hot aluminum seeped through the towel and made contact with your flesh. As quickly as you could without dropping the pan of cookies, you turned and set it down on the kitchen island.

“These look delicious!”

“Woah, man, they look amazing!”

“I bet they taste as scrumptious as they lo—”

You zoned out the boys’ compliments as you moved to the sink and turned on the tap.

“L/N, are you okay?” Ashido asked as she followed you. Her question caught the other's attention, and they, too, turned to watch you quizzingly.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Your response ended with a wince as your skin made contact with the cool water.

“Here, let me see,” Ashido gestured to your hand. With your permission, she took your wrist with gentle fingers and held it up for you both to inspect. Your skin was reddened slightly, but it wasn’t anything serious. You let out a sigh of relief. “It’s not serious, thankfully, but we should still put some burn cream on it just in case,” Ashido advised as she turned off the tap.

You nodded your head again and followed the pink-haired girl as she went to retrieve the first-aid kit. Before you walked too far from the kitchen, you shouted over your shoulder to your classmates, “Please don’t eat the cookies, boys! They are still hot and are for someone special!”

There was a noticeable delay in response to your warning. After a pregnant pause, there was a muffled, “okamph!” in response. You were about to turn around and make sure that they weren’t eating your treats, but Ashido calling your name changed your plans.

“Let’s fix you up, yeah?” She said as you both entered the girls' bathroom. Ashido gestured for you to sit on the counter while she dug through the first-aid kit for burn cream.

“Thank you, Ashido,” you said a few moments later as she lightly applied the cream to the worst of the reddening. Your skin wasn’t blistering, which was a good sign, but it was beginning to ache.

“No problem,” she replied. She began to gently rub the cream into your skin, mindful of the sore spots. She beamed at you as she said, “And you can just call me Mina. We are friends!”

You smiled at her. “Okay, Mina.” The two of you were silent for a couple of minutes as Mina continued to dress your burns.

“So,” she started, breaking the silence. “Who did you make the cookies for?”

You sharply inhaled. “W-what? What do you mean?” You tried to play it off by playing dumb, but Mina gave you an are you kidding me look.

“Don’t play that game with me, girl.” She scolded you. “So, tell me, who is this ‘special someone’?”

You let out a heavy sigh, dropping your shoulders in defeat. “One of our classmates. . .” You trailed off, turning away from the pinkette, and absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

Mina’s eyes lit up and her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Oh my God, seriously?!?” She squealed. You turned to face her again. “Girl, you absolutely gotta tell me! Who is it?!” She went to grab ahold of your hands but stopped herself when she remembered your injury. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You said. “But, um, I—” You hesitated, searching for the right words, but you couldn’t find them. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” You said, barely above a whisper, turning away from your classmate once more in embarrassment.

Mina leaned back, taken by surprise by your change of tone. She studied you for a few seconds, her expression falling when she saw the look on your face; the clenching of your jaw.

“It’s okay, girl,” she reassured you. She set the roll of bandages down on the counter as she finished wrapping your hand. “You don’t have to tell me who your crush is if you don’t want to.”

You whipped back around to face her, eyes wide. “C-crush?!” you stammered out. “W-what?! I don’t have a crush! I never said I did.” you explained.

“Yeah, sure,” Mina smirked at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You wouldn’t of baked cookies for them if you didn’t like them.”

“Um, because I’m nice?” you asked with a lilt in your voice. Mina does have a point, though, you thought.

Mina laughed. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.”

A couple of minutes later, you and the pinkette exited the bathroom, laughing over something Mina had said. Your hand had been expertly wrapped and treated with some burn cream. Your injury didn’t even hurt anymore, but you were still going to check in tomorrow with Recovery Girl as a precaution.

As you rounded the corner to go back into the kitchen, you stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes fell to the now-empty pan where twenty cookies sat not even ten minutes ago. Mina stopped next to you, and you could see her giving you a questionable look, but you didn’t—couldn’t—acknowledge her. You just stared blankly at the pan, trying to process what you were seeing.

What the hell? you thought.

“Ah, man,” a voice drawled out. You slowly turned towards the source; Denki Kaminari. He was lounging against the counter as he rubbed his stomach for emphasis. “Those cinnamon kinako cookies were delicious!” Your brain blanked out when you heard that, the organ pathetically trying to comprehend and respond to the current situation.

“You’re telling me!” Kirishima piped up from beside the blond. Sero and Sato voiced their agreement from where they were seated on the couches. “They really hit the spot after the day I had.” The redhead noticed you and Mina. “Hey, guys, welcome back!” he greeted with a wave, a broad smile overtaking his features. “How’s your hand?”

You did not formulate an answer right away, your brain still processing the crumbled remains of your cookies. Your delay didn’t go unnoticed by the others, but before they could question it, Mina came to your rescue.

“It’s okay! Y/N is alright, nothing major.” She informed them. Kirishima’s gaze left you to focus on the pinkette by your side, but Kaminari’s remained transfixed on your blank expression.

“Oh, well, that’s great to hear! I was worried—”

“But you should be ashamed!” Mina cut the redhead off, tone sharp as a blade. “All of you.”

“What—?”

“Mina, why—?”

Kirishima and Kaminari spoke at once, their voices clashing, but the pinkette interrupted them once more.

“Y/N didn’t make those cookies for you.” She said. “She made them for someone special, yet you guys ate them even after she told you not to.” She just about bit the last part out. The boys gaped at Mina, her scolding catching them by surprise.

“Is that true?” Sato asked, rising from the couch to approach you. Everyone fixated their attention on you, waiting for a response.

You hesitated at the sudden limelight, and also in shyness. When you originally set out to bake the kinako cookies for Todoroki, you didn’t expect them to 1.) burn your hand and 2.) for them to be eaten by others. Even though you were upset, you didn’t want the others to be ashamed or scolded. But they did eat them after I told them not to, you thought, pondering your next move.

After a few moments, you squared your shoulders and steadily said, “Yes. I . . . made them for somebody.” At your words, the room’s atmosphere soured. The boys’ shoulders slumped as they realized their mistake.

“Shoot, L/N, I’m sorry,” Kaminari said, stepping forward to gently grab your uninjured hand and bow.

“Yeah,” Kirishima added, scratching the back of his neck and looking away slightly. “That wasn’t really manly of us.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Sero intoned, looking sheepish.

Sato came to stand in front of you next to Kaminari, who still had a gentle hold of your hand. “I’ll be more than happy to remake the cookies for you.” He said. “If you want that, of course.”

You smiled, though it was closed-lipped. “Thank you, Sato, but not today.” He bowed his head.

Suddenly, the front doors slammed open, startling the six of you. You all watched, shell-shacked—you did, at least—as a fuming Bakugou stepped inside, loudly exclaiming, “I had ‘hat dumbass villain handled! Damn Sidekick extra jus’ had to step ‘n and—” He noticed your little group gaping at him. “The hell ‘re ya fools lookin’ at?” As the words left his mouth, the other two members of the infamous U.A. trio entered as well.

“Kacchan,” Izuku Midoriya said, trying to placate the explosive male. “He was just trying to . . .” The rest of his sentence fizzled into the background as the entirety of your attention span landed on Shouto Todoroki.

It had already been well-established that the youngest Todoroki son was even more handsome in person, but seeing him in his Hero costume did things to you. Your mouth almost dropped open to gawk at his god-like appearance, but you clenched your jaw tightly shut to avoid that catastrophe. Despite that, you were pretty positive your eyes were as wide as saucers, greedily taking every inch of him in as if it were the last time you would see him.

I should sue him for the cost of my medical bills when I develop heart palpitations, you thought.

“Shut the hell up, ya stupid nerd.” Bakugou snapped at a sputtering Midoriya, drawing your attention once more. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

“Is he always this angry?” you asked under your breath; half-serious, half-rhetorical.

“Oh, yeah,” Mina confirmed, voice just as low.

Sero snickered from his post next to Sato. “You get used to it after a while,” he reassured you.

One of Kirishima’s blinding smiles makes its appearance once again. “Katsuki’s always been passionate about, well, everything.” He told you, not bothering to lower his voice. “It’s who he is. We love him regardless.”

Sato chimed in with, “Platonically.” The boys snickered and Mina rolled her eyes, yet there was a small smile playing on her lips.

“Even though his sour attitude can be harsh and lowkey over the top,” Kaminari began, eyes shining with mischief. “It sure makes him fun to mess with!” Your companions groaned in exasperation and started to voice their reservations.

“No, Denki. Leave him be—” Mina urged him.

“Awe, come on, man. Don’t—”

“Heyy~ Katsuki,” Kaminari crooned, rocking back on his heels as the pale blond’s attention zeroed in on him. Kirishima and Sato facepalmed. “Why have trouble catching a ‘dumbass villain’?” he teased. “Bad day? Your head not in the game?” The hair on your arms rose to attention as an electric charge swept the room, putting everyone on edge. Kaminari’s baiting also drew the attention of the explosive male’s companions. Your eyes briefly met captivating graphite and turquoise, eliciting a sharp gasp to leave your lungs.

“You’re gonna regret the day you were born, dumbass!” Bakugou bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at the electric blond, snapping your attention from the hypnotizing gaze. You fully expected him to charge the male, already taking a cautionary step back, but instead of explosions ripping apart the building, Bakugou grunted and moved towards the showers.

Mina turned to the blond and shouted, “Now why did you do that, Denki? You know better than to rile Katsuki up like that!”

Kirishima dragged a large hand down his face before running it through his unruly red locks. “I’ll go check on him,” he announced before jogging after the sandy-blond. You were at a loss for words as you continued to watch your classmates scold a shit-grinning Kaminari, not even the tiniest bit remorseful for his teasing of Bakugou.

“Please don’t take Kacchan’s rashness to heart.” A new voice piped up. You turned to meet the electric green gaze of none other than Izuku Midoriya, the new generation’s proclaimed Symbol of Peace. “I’m s-sorry, I don’t think we have properly met. I’ve been in and out of campus lately—with missions and such.” He practically skipped over to stand in front of you. He smiled brightly as he gently took your hands in his large, calloused ones. “I’m Izuku Midoriya. I’m so happy you are here at U.A.!” he excitedly exclaimed, lightly squeezing your entwined hands. You couldn’t hide your wince and small gasp of pain as Midoriya unknowingly squeezed your burns. The green-haired male let go of your hands so fast as if he was the one burned instead of you, eyes growing wide. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” he asked, noticing the bandages wrapped tightly around your hand. Midoriya’s frenzy caught the other's attention, and all eyes were on you yet again.

The tips of your ears grew hot at the unwavering attention from the Heroes-in-training—especially from a certain icy-hot male who made your heart falter in its beating. “Y-yeah, I’m f-fine.” You stuttered as you met each of your classmate's gazes, trying to reassure them of your stability.

“What happened?” Todoroki inquired, eyes hawkishly zeroed in on your face.

“U-um, well . . .” you trailed off, words fading from your brain as you slightly cowered under his unwavering attention. “I—”

“She burned herself while baking kinako cookies,” Sero spoke for you, having caught onto your growing anxiousness. You didn’t miss Todoroki’s eyes narrowing at the black-haired male’s words. Sato and Kaminari made noises of agreement, the blond absentmindedly rubbing his stomach in content.

Midoriya’s eyes shined. “Really? You did?!” He looked behind you to the kitchen, eyes searching for the aforementioned treats. “Where are they?” he asked when he didn’t spot any, only a plate littered with crumbs. He turned his attention back to you. You opened your mouth to answer, but a wave of shame overcame you as your eyes once again met those of the one you had made the cookies for.

Mina noticed your hesitation, giving you a knowing look as she answered for you. “The three idiots to your left ate them all,” she said with a little bite to her words, glaring daggers at the culprits. “After they were specifically told not to.” She reaffirmed. The boys shuddered at the reminder of their disobedience. The pinkette turned her attention back to the green-haired and dual-haired males. “I patched her up, though. The burns are minor.”

Midoriya nodded his head in understanding. “You should still see Recovery Girl,” he instructed, unashamedly expressing his concern for someone he had just properly met. “At least let her take a look at it.”

“I’m going to stop by to see her in the morning,” you reassured him, words coming back now that your mind was a little clear. His shoulders slumped in relief.

“You should rest, Y/N.” Todoroki’s searing gaze trailed over your form, calculating eyes searching for any additional outward signs of injury or discomfort. “After suffering an injury, no matter how insignificant, rest is important.” He softly chided.

“R-right.” You stammered out, at a loss for how else to respond to your handsome classmate's concern other than compliance. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at that moment. Your feet stumbled as you became lightheaded for a split second. You noticed the dual-haired male take a step towards you, catching onto your sudden exhaustion, but you quickly rightened yourself. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You’re not exactly sure why you thanked him, or what for. His concern, perhaps? He subtly nodded as you turned from the small group, breathlessly mumbling some sort of farewell and something about retiring to your room for the rest of the day.

The others muttered their goodbyes as you made your way to the stairwell.

As you walked up the stairs, head hung low, your throat began to burn and your vision began to blur with tears. The first one fell when you reached your floor, quickly followed by a couple more. You wiped them away, sniffing, as you made your way to your door. You didn’t react to the sudden presence next to you and the weight draped around your shoulders.

Mina didn’t say anything, only traced comforting circles into your back as tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

The next day, you and your classmates were gathered outside Gym Gamma for an impromptu training session. You were surprised that Class 3-A still regularly trained together, but in your defense, that assumption came from someone who didn’t have many options when it came to sparing partners up until your transfer—a major shortcoming in retrospect.

“Today we are working on ‘last stand’ combat.” Mr. Aizawa drawled in his natural I Don’t Give A Fuck tone. “Close-quarter combat in which a violent assailant has obtained the upper hand and corners you in an attempt to defeat you.” He proceeded to explain the instructions of the training exercise and pair the students into groups of four who would take turns being the Heroes and the assailants.

“Midoriya will be with Jirou.” Mr. Aizawa intoned, briefly glancing at the two students to confirm they heard. “Todoroki will be with L/N.” Your muscles stiffened when you heard that. Your heart began to race as you watched the red-and-white-haired male make his way over to you.

“H-hi,” you greeted him, giving a soft smile.

“Hello,” he said, politely inclining his head. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Same here.” You said before facing forward once more as the first group began their round. You and Todoroki observed the match in silence, with you paying extra attention to your classmates’ movements and taking mental notes of how they incorporated their Quirks into hand-to-hand combat.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention. Expecting the new additions to be Ochako and Asui, you turned to greet them with a warm smile but paused when instead of your friends, Midoriya and Kyoka Jirou were standing next to you, both with warm expressions on their faces.

“Hi!” Midoriya greeted with a wide smile and a small wave. “I’m excited for this training exercise! It’s going to be so cool to see everyone’s improvement with hand-to-hand combat over the break! And any new moves! Or Quirk Awakenings! Or—” You had a hard time keeping up with what he was saying as it turned into a stuttering rant as he went on about each individual’s Quirk.

The rumors were true regarding his ramblings, you mused to yourself, wondering how long he could go on for before a small hand on his shoulder made him take pause.

“Midoriya,” Jirou intoned. “Calm down.” His cheeks flushed a bright red. He began laughing nervously while absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck.

“S-sorry,” he said, shyfully.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I agree with your stance, though. Observing others' skills is an effective way to improve your own. Get an idea or two.” You turned your attention back to the ongoing training, taking mental notes of your classmates’ fighting stances and their defensive moves, trying to get a better understanding of the why behind them. You pulled a small item from your jacket pocket, absentmindedly rubbing it between your thumb and forefinger. The movement caught Midoriya’s attention.

“What is that?” he asked, green eyes alight with curiosity.

“What? This?” You held up your good luck charm; a small, pink parrot keychain from a popular cartoon series you had won years ago at one of your hometown’s summer festivals. It was lucky because at the moment, while little you were trying to win, your Quirk had manifested. “It’s my good luck charm,” you explained the pink parrot’s value to you.

“Oh, cool!” Midoriya exclaimed. “You know, I used to have a good luck charm—it was my super rare exclusive All Might trading card! First edition!” His eyes shined as he reminisced. “I would bring it with me everywhere! Even Kacchan—”

“Deku,” drawled a low voice from the other side of your gathered class. The temperature fell as Bakugou’s vermillion eyes narrowed onto Midoriya. “Don’t say another word.”

“He’s such a fanboy.” Jirou chuckled, fondness seeping into her voice. Midoriya smiled sheepishly, not bothering even to try to deny the label. You spent the time until your group’s turn getting to know the two, quickly finding out that you and Jirou share the same taste in music; vowing to swap playlists after class. You were so caught up in your conversation that you almost forgot about Todoroki's presence, if not for the awareness of a body next to you. His chilled warmth seeped into your muscles, causing you to relax one moment, and tense up another.

“Are you all right?” he softly inquired, spying your tensed posture.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You replied, softly smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Just a lil’ nervous, is all.”

Todoroki frowned slightly, not understanding how you could be experiencing anxiousness. “Wh—?”

“Oh yeah!” Midoriya suddenly interjected. “This is going to be your first time demonstrating your Quirk, huh?” he asked you. “Or at least this is gonna be the first time I will see it. What is it again? Object—no—um, yeah, anyway I bet it is awesome!” His eyes still shined with his enthusiasm and curiosity. “Sometime you gotta let me ask you about it! I have so many! Does it work like Ochako’s Zero Gravity? Or Yaoyorozu’s Creation?”

You couldn’t help but give a small laugh at his eagerness. You had never met someone as enthusiastic about Quirks as Izuku Midoriya. It was kind of refreshing to interact with someone as passionate as he was.

“Kind of,” you began, silently pondering over what you know of the brunette’s Quirk and comparing it to your own. “Ochako and I have the same limitations when it comes to the weight of an object, but besides that, our Quirks are different.” Your Quirk was object manipulation; you could telepathically manipulate objects within a certain range. To you, your Quirk wasn’t all that—wasn’t anything unique by any means—but to others, you were seen as a powerful goddess. “To be honest, I’m lacking in hand-to-hand combat skills.” You sheepishly smiled.

“Really?” Midoriya asked, blinking in shock. “I thought your previous school would have prepared you for all types of situations.” Jirou nodded her agreement with the green-haired male. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Shouto continue to observe you with a calculating expression on his face.

“Unfortunately, no.” You shrugged. “Their curriculum was more focused on improving the individual’s Quirk than learning how to fight without it.”

“Oh, wow,” Jirou said. “That could put you at a great disadvantage down the line.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know. That’s why—” You were cut off by Mr. Aizawa calling for your group to begin your training round. “Welp, this is it, I guess.” You chuckled nervously.

Midoriya gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll do great!” he said, giving you a thumbs-up accompanied by a warm smile.

“Do your best,” Jirou added before moving towards the training pitch.

You started to follow, but a cool hand on your shoulder made you pause, shivering softly. You turned to find Todoroki giving you an expectant look. “You’ll do fine,” he said, confidently. He looked as if he put his entire faith in you. “I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

You felt a surge of confidence fill you at his words. You gave him a determined look. “Right,” you said. “We got this.”

You swear up and down his eyes twinkled when he looked at you, but it could have been a trick of the light. “You got this.” He replied, softly. The two of you walked into the pitch together, side by side.

The training went . . . not terrible, but it could have been better on your end.

Todoroki, Midoriya, and Jirou were amazing. Even without using their Quirks, they each were a force to be reckoned with. You were captivated by how swiftly they moved—as if they were ballerinas performing Danse des Petits Cygnes.

You weren’t on the same level as them and the rest of Class 3-A. You knew that, and you acknowledged it, but to see and be confronted by it so bluntly in person made you feel a whole other level of embarrassment and shame. You weren’t weak by any means, you could hold your own in a fight for some time, but not like your classmates could—and had.

Perhaps that is what separates you from your classmates. They have battle experience. Hell, they fought in a fucking war for crying out loud while you were on the other side of the country, guarding civilian shelters. You were fortunate not to see much bloodshed, but maybe that brought you to a disadvantage against these future Heroes surrounding you.

The horn had sounded as Jirou pinned you in the dirt for the sixth time, signaling the end of the round. You heard the sounds of Midoriya and Todoroki’s scuffling come to a halt from somewhere off to your left as Jirou lifted herself off of you. She offered you a hand as you began to rise from the ground. You accepted her extended hand with a grimace as the muscles in your back burned.

“Nice work.” Mr. Aizawa said as the four of you approached. “You performed adequately,” he addressed Jirou, Todoroki, and Midoriya. He turned to you. “You, not so much.”

You flinched as the words landed home. Damn, you thought, but he’s not wrong. You had naively allowed yourself to believe that Eraserhead wouldn’t call out your inferiority, at least in front of others. Then again, he was Eraserhead—infamous for his bluntness and apathy.

“Your skills are greatly lacking in hand-to-hand combat,” he continued. “I haven’t seen somebody so physically inadequate since your classmates were first years. Coming from another Hero Course, especially one with its reputation, it’s to be expected that you’re not up to par with your new classmates, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” As he spoke, he never broke eye contact with you, scrutinizing you. Even with one eye, his unrelenting gaze made you feel as if he could see every minuscule detail about you. “Based on the performance I saw today, it was a mistake to put you in this class.”

You heard a gasp from one of your classmates; its owner unknown. You gulped down your shame and remained silent. You had a feeling Aizawa wasn’t finished with you.

“From here on out, I expect you to train harder and push yourself further than anyone else. Extra training, extra classes—anything that will make you catch up.” His eye narrowed. “If I do not see substantial improvement in one month, you will be expelled. No exceptions.”

Your eyes widened, but your shock did not stop you from replying. “Yes, sir.” You said, keeping your tone neutral as you mulled over his words. Although extreme, I understand the reason for Mr. Aizawa’s methods, you thought. He’s right though. I’m far from even scrapping the level these guys are on. I need to be more disciplined and work even harder if I want to stand on equal ground with my classmates. Resolve made, you promised, “I will go Plus Ultra!”

“Yaass, Y/N!” Mina cheered. “Woohoo!”

Aizawa didn’t say anything else to you, promptly dismissing the class. Midoriya praised your performance and commented on his wish to sit down and talk in-depth with you regarding your Quirk. You promptly accepted his request, telling him you would let him know when you were free. He smiled before walking off to join Iida and Ochako.

“If it means anything,” a voice suddenly intoned from behind you. You spun around, having not sensed the person's approach. You weren’t all that surprised to find Todoroki there, softly regarding you. “I think you did well.”

You scoffed but smiled softly. “Thank you, but you don’t have to patronize me. I have a lot of work to do if I want to catch up.”

“You will,” he declared, before quickly clarifying, “Catch up. Especially with my help.”

You furrowed your brows. “Excuse me?”

“Should I repeat myself?” he inquired, his heterochromatic eyes swimming in mirth. “I will assist you in your training and classes.”

You didn’t respond right away, regarding him with suspicion. You waited for him to name a condition for his help, but when he offered none, you relaxed. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You inclined your head. “I greatly appreciate it.”

“Shouto,” he corrected.

You blinked at him, taken aback. “What?”

“Shouto,” he reiterated. “You may call me Shouto. We are friends, are we not?”

You gaped at him for a moment, processing his words. “Ye-yeah!” you said a little too loudly. “We are friends, Shouto.”

The small smile that graced his lips lit up your entire world and caused your heart to speed up, pounding almost painfully against your ribcage. “Meet me here tomorrow after class.” He instructed.

“Tomorrow.” You repeated in confirmation.

His smile grew a little wider. “See you then, Y/N.” He said before turning on his heel and strolling away. You watched him go in a daze, in disbelief of what just occurred.

“Oooooooo, Y/N’s gotta date!”

You shrieked at the sudden voice and spun around for a second time to find Mina standing there, hunched over laughing at your reaction.

“Mina!” you shrieked, placing a hand over your heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”

She continued to laugh. “Sorry,” she said once her laughter died down. “You were so entranced with Todoroki that you didn’t even realize I was here!”

“Oh, yeah right.” You responded, playfully rolling your eyes. The two of you began to walk to the dorm. “I wasn’t entranced with him.”

The pinkette gave you a look of disbelief, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah, sure,” she retorted. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you ain’t lying to me.”

You scoffed but didn’t attempt to refute her claims. You put your hands in your pockets and looked to the ground, lost in thought. Mina didn’t say anything else, allowing you both to walk in silence.

The next afternoon, you met Shouto at the training grounds outside Gym Gamma for your first tutored training session. He regarded you kindly as you slowly approached, suddenly feeling quite bashful.

“Thank you for offering to do this, Shouto.” You said when you arrived. “It really means a lot. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”

“There’s no need for repayment.” He softly responded. “I volunteered to assist you. Therefore, no repayment of any sort is necessary.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I don’t want to inconvenience you—”

His soft call of your name made your next words die in your throat. “I assure you, this is fine.” He said. “Your company and attention are substantial enough.” You felt your face warm at his admission. Shouto gestured towards the training pit. “Shall we begin?”

He started by teaching you some stretches that are supposed to help decrease sudden muscle spasms and strengthen them. Afterward, he had you show him the little knowledge you had of hand-to-hand combat to gain an idea of where you stand in regard to U.A. training. Once you had demonstrated the few kicks and different styles of punching you knew, you turned to judge Shouto’s impression.

Your breath caught at what you saw.

His handsome features remained stoically blank for the most part, but the pursing of his lips and slight furrowing of his brows spoke a different tale. He grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like they didn’t prepare you at all, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure.

“Shouto?” you inquired, voice slightly uneven as your mouth formed the syllables of his name. “Is everything alright?”

His beautiful eyes snapped to yours, and once again you were frozen by the intensity with which he looked at you. His gaze was calculating, and you could just about see the cogs turning in his brain as he silently regarded you. A couple long moments later, his lips parted on an exhale and he finally addressed you.

“We have a lot of work to do.” He declared. “But we already knew that.” You slowly nodded your head, curious as to where he would be going with this conversation. “Thankfully, you’re not completely helpless,” he intoned dryly. “Even though you don’t have many skills regarding physical, non-Quirk combat, I have identified several places where we can start, correct, and then build on.”

You steadied yourself, resolve firmer than ever before. You declared, “I’m ready.”

Shouto gave a quick, but detailed, overview of his plans for your ‘training tutoring’, you referred to your sessions as. He was going to teach you everything he thought you should know—which was everything he knew—in order to successfully become a Hero people could rely on.

The two of you began by improving your physique. You joined him on his early morning run along with Midoriya and Bakugou, who welcomed you with contrasting fervor. When you met for your afternoon training, you would run five kilometers before learning various grades of combat moves, and then concluding your time together by sparring.

It was established early on that neither of you would use your Quirks during your tutoring as the two of you were well-adapted to your respective Quirks—and the strict rules regarding their usage.

For the next several weeks, you worked tirelessly on your training, and your dedication and hard work paid off. At your end-of-the-month assessment, Aizawa was pleased by your rapid and exceptional improvement and announced you could stay at U.A. He also informed you that it was never his intention to expel you in the first place, but nevertheless, he was impressed by your efforts.

You and Shouto continued to grow closer as time went by. You still had your training tutoring sessions in the afternoons, and you became a regular on his early morning runs. You even hung out outside of class and training; preparing pre-workout meals and drinks together, and various study sessions at all hours of the day and night. Once, you even packed him a small canister of his favorite brand of soba noodles for lunch one of the weekends he was interning at his father’s Agency. When he came back to the dorm after his shift, he made a beeline for you and promptly informed you that from then on out, you would be solely responsible for packing his lunches.

“Now why would I do that?” you implored. You crossed your arms, awaiting his response. “Are you gonna pay me?”

Shouto slowly blinked at you in the way a cat would. “Why would I compensate you for an action you chose to do?”

You had no retort for that.

As you spent more time together, you noticed some changes. Shouto would stare at you for seemingly no reason, and whenever you called him out on it, he feigned innocence. He also sought you out more often, insisting on walking to your next class or to and from the dorm by your side. He even began to occupy you on your shopping runs, dutifully holding your bags for you. And whenever you would thank or compliment him, his whole demeanor would light up as if Aphrodite herself had shown favor towards him.

You weren’t any better, though.

If Shouto would do so much as even blink in your general direction, your heart would soar and butterflies would take flight in your stomach. At first, you brushed it off as nerves for being the subject of the Shouto Todoroki’s attention, but you were in denial, not wanting to admit what was actually occurring. Looking back, you realized that deep down, you had known all along what was happening, but at the time, you weren’t ready to admit it—to yourself and him.

Regardless of your rebuttals and lack of admission, you were falling for your dual-haired classmate, hard and fast, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

3 months later . . .

“Y/N! It’s starting! You’re gonna miss it!” Ochako shouted from the couches, the other girls of Class 3-A surrounding her, all dressed in comfortable loungewear. It was the class's annual Girl’s Movie Night, which was held every couple of months. Tooru told you earlier that week that they would like to have it more often, like once a month, but given their hectic and ever-changing schedules, the girls had to settle for every few months. They took turns who got to pick out the movie. It was Mina’s turn this time. True to her nature, she selected an early 2000s chick flick set in the States.

“Hold on, wait for me!” you hollered back as you finished pouring the freshly popped popcorn into a large bowl, a few kernels spilling out as you whirled on your heels to sprint into the living area. You nearly tripped over Jirou’s legs as you practically threw yourself towards the last remaining free spot on the couch.

“Ah, sorry!” you exclaimed as you settled yourself into the cushions, checking over Jirou and your popcorn bowl. “Did I miss anything?”

“No, it’s just starting,” Momo said, taking a sip from her cup of tea as the opening credits began to roll.

“Ooh, this is one of my all-time favorite movies!” Mina squealed next to you. “Have you ever seen it before?” she asked.

You hummed, acknowledging her question. You thought hard, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen the characters on the screen before. “I’m not sure,” you said. “I don’t think so.”

The pinkette gasped aloud and theatrically placed a hand on her chest, sprawling backward. “Y/N! You wound me!”

Across the room, Tooru piped up from her spot next to Asui. “How could you not have?! It’s only one of the greatest movies ever made!”

“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Ochako interjected. “Gonna have to disagree.” You expected them to start arguing back and forth over what is truly the greatest movie ever made, like your friends back home would have done, but they don’t. Mina stuck her tongue out at Ochako before turning back to the movie.

You all watched the movie in relative silence, save for the light background noise of popcorn moving around in a bowl and slurping from a now-empty straw. It was nice, peaceful; a well-deserved and appreciated respite from the grinding hustle of being Pro-Heroes-in-training.

“Just confess already!” Jirou shouted at the screen as the main character allowed another opportunity for them to confess their feelings for their classmate slip through their fingers. “Gosh!” A corner of your mouth curled at her irritation. A few grumbles of agreement sounded from the others as the movie continued playing.

You had to stifle your laughter as the main characters continued to pine after one another, completely oblivious to the other’s growing feelings. I can’t believe there are actually people in the world who are like them, you silently mused. It’s so obvious they like each other. I can’t believe they don’t see it.

“Ugh, the anticipation and pining is killing me!” Tooru cried out, her slippers moving frantically in the air as she kicked her legs.

Asui raised a brow. “I thought you’ve seen this movie before?”

“Well, yeah, I have,” the invisible female said. “But the suspense still gets to me!”

“It is quite intense.” Ochako agreed. “I hope they confess soon. It hurts to see them think the other doesn’t return their feelings.”

“I don’t understand how they cannot.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. The girls turned to look at you as you continued, “I mean, they’re so obvious.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda annoying at this point,” Jirou mumbled.

Mina snickered. “Y/N, as if you’re one to talk.”

You gave her a questioning look, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, come on. You’re so obvious, too, with your crush—”

You cut her off, “I do not have a crush.”

“You have a crush?” Asui asked. You and Mina responded at the same time.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, she does.”

“What is this about?” Momo inquired, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie.

“Nothi—” you began but was swiftly interrupted by the pinkette next to you.

“Y/N has a crush on Todoroki!”

The girls gasped and gapped at you, eyes wide.

“I do not!” You said, face burning as you tried to mitigate the situation. “We’re not like that!”

“Oh my.” You thought you heard Momo say under her breath, but you couldn’t really hear since Tooru started shrieking with glee.

“You guys would be the cutest couple!” she exclaimed, jumping up from her spot on the couch and racing over to pull you into a tight embrace.

“I mean, it does make sense given they spend so much time together.” Ochako mused, a finger on her chin as she considered the situation.

Asui jumped on the bandwagon with, “Oh they are definitely into each other.”

“One hundred percent,” Mina agreed.

“Girl, you gotta spill the tea!” Tooru exclaimed as she pulled away. “Tell us everything!” The others voiced their agreement.

“I do admit, I am curious as to how this relationship came to be,” Momo vocalized, setting her tea cup down onto its saucer. “That is if the two of you have gotten that far into your companionship.”

You blinked at the midnight-black-haired woman, shock clouding your brain for a moment as you processed her words. “Um, n-no. We aren’t in any type of r-romantic relationship.” You clarified, but immediately you could tell certain people thought your answer was complete horse poop. “We aren’t!”

“Regardless, you guys are pretty close,” Ochako interjected. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Jirou nodded in agreement. “And all the extra training you do together.”

“The early morning runs,” Asui added.

“Okay, okay,” you threw your hands up in a placating manner. “I understand what you guys are trying to get at, but you’re wrong.”

Mina came to stand beside you, giving you a knowing look. “Girl, Y/N,” she began. “You can try with all your might to deny it, but it’s obvious what is really going on between you and Shouto.” She placed a delicate hand on your shoulder. “And I know you know it, too.”

You stared at the pinkette, pondering her and the other’s words. You wanted to continue denying what they were saying, but you were getting tired of denying your feelings to yourself. You slumped your shoulders, the tension leaving your body as you resolved to come clean with the truth—to yourself and your friends, besides a certain dual-haired male. “Alright, fine.” You let out a heavy sigh, mentally preparing yourself for their reaction to your next statement. “I like him a little.” You confessed, looking at the floor, too afraid to meet any of their gazes.

The room was dead silent for two breaths before Mina erupted in choking laughter. “’A little’? Yeah RIGHT!” She laughed so hard that tears began to stream down her pink cheeks. After she managed to calm down a bit, she turned to face you fully, laying a hand on your knee. “Girl, you’re lying to yourself.” She told you, tone light yet serious. “We have all seen the way you look at Shouto—” the others nod in confirmation. “—and your eyes tell it all.”

You flinched as embarrassment flooded you. “Is it really that obvious?” you asked. You turned to the others to gauge their reactions. “Am I?” They all nodded.

“Definitely.”

“For sure.”

“We could see it from a mile away.”

You gasped. “Oh my,” you covered your face with your hands. “Do you think Shouto knows?”

“I doubt so,” Momo said. “Shouto is quite intelligent and a formidable force to be reckoned with, but as I’m sure you’re aware, his experience and understanding of social concepts and cues are fairly limited.”

“In other words,” Jirou interjected. “He’s none the wiser.”

You released a sigh of relief. At least he doesn’t think I’m a psycho stalker or something.

“Hey, give him some credit, guys,” Ochako remarked. “Todoroki’s more aware than he’s given credit for.”

“Moving on,” Mina said. “Have you thought about confessing your feelings to him?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, shamefully looking away. “No. . .”

“What?!”

“Really?!” Tooru shouted. “But he’s so hot!” The sleeves of her shirt crossed in front of her. “I would do anything to be his girlfriend.”

You laughed. “While you are correct about his handsomeness, I don’t even know where I would begin or how I would confess.”

“Your feelings are valid, Y/N,” Asui assured you. “Confessing one’s feelings for another is a life-changing occurrence.”

“You gotta do it before graduation in a couple months, though,” Ochako added. “If not, then you may never get another chance to do so.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked. “As Pros, wouldn’t we work together often? Why does it need to be before we graduate and turn Pro?”

“Possibly, but with our chosen line of work, there is always a possibility. . .” she trailed off with a grimace.

You understood immediately. “Oh.”

“Although rare in the line of duty, it does happen.” Momo said. “I wouldn’t worry about that though, but I agree with Ochako.”

“Plus,” Mina began, mischief glowing in her eyes. “If the two of you get together before you make your Pro Hero debut to the world, you wouldn’t have to worry about him falling in love with some random civilian he rescues on the street or another Pro.”

You nodded. “You have a point.”

“Either way, I think it will all work out in the end,” Ochako said, her cheeks widening with her smile. “I think perhaps Shouto returns your feelings, and just simply doesn’t know what to do about them or how to address them, therefore you should tell him.” The other girls voiced their agreement.

“Yeah, it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture or anything,” Jirou said.

“Just be honest with him, Y/N,” Asui said.

“Yeah, girl,” Mina added, giving you a warm smile when you met her gaze. “You got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

You squared your shoulders as a burst of confidence filled you thanks to the encouragement you received from your friends. “Okay, I will!” you loudly announced. “I will confess my feelings to him!”

The others cheered as you all held up your lemon water in a faux toast. In your happiness, none of you noticed the shadows shift in the stairwell and the soft noise of retreating footsteps on the wood.

You were screwed.

“How am I gonna tell him!?” you mewled aloud a couple of days later in the cafeteria. You dramatically slumped your forehead on the tabletop, mentally kicking yourself for allowing the girls to convince you that confessing your crush would be an easy endeavor. You felt a reassuring pat on your shoulder. Groaning, you lifted your head from the table to shoot puppy eyes at Ochako. “Ochako, help me!” you cried. “How do I confess?”

The brunette gave you a sheepish smile. “I don’t know, Y/N.” She professed, her eyes apologetic. “Proclaiming one's love for another isn’t really my strong suit.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Asui mumbled under her breath before taking a sip of her drink, receiving a glare in response.

“Y/N, sweetie,” Mina cooed from your other side. “I think you’re overthinking it a little. It shouldn’t be but so hard. Just be honest with him!”

“But that is hard!” you said, waving your hands in the air. “I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘hey, Shouto, I think you’re really hot and amazing. Wanna go out with me?’”

“Sure you can,” Momo intoned, trying to reassure you. “Maybe not in those exact words, but when the time comes, you will know what to say.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, slumping your shoulders. “I hope so.”

As time passed, you found that you did not, in fact, know what to say when the time came to confess your feelings to Shouto Todoroki. Whenever you were near him, you became tongue-tied and could barely speak without becoming a stuttering mess. During each interaction, Shouto would give you a long, confused look, his eyebrows drawn downwards as he watched you struggle for words. He wouldn’t comment on it, bless him, but he must’ve thought you to be a total weirdo.

Yet, he still accompanied you on the walk back to the dorm every day after classes ended, and he insisted on continuing your training sessions every weekend after he finished his shift at Endeavor’s Agency. The two of you grew closer, to your absolute delight, and yet you still hadn’t managed to work up the courage to confess your feelings to him.

Until one day . . .

You were sitting in homeroom during free period, chatting with Midoriya about the latest episode of the rebooted All Might: The Mightiest Man TV series.

“I’m telling you, Midoriya,” you said. “It doesn’t matter how much the animation and special effects have improved, the original will always be better than the reboot.” You crossed your arms and lounged back in your chair, waiting for the forest green-haired male to start sputtering his counterargument. “You can’t change my mind. I will die on this hill.”

“Are you seriously sayin—?”

A call of your name from a familiar tenor drew your attention. You turned towards the source to meet a pair of heterochromatic eyes. Shouto was making his way to your desk, coming to a stop right in front of you. You had to tilt your head back in order to maintain eye contact. After a moment, he turned his attention to Midoriya next to you. “Pardon me, Midoriya, but I need to speak to Y/N in private.”

You and Midoriya gaped at the dual-haired male for a good twenty seconds before you slowly rose from your seat. “O-okay.” You turned to face your green-haired companion. You hoped your eyes were conveying your inner panic as you said, “Midoriya, I’ll be back.”

All he could do was nod as he watched you follow behind Shouto, wondering why you looked so panicked to go with the male. Maybe you were constipated.

As Shouto led you toward the classroom door, Ochako and Mina shot you curious glances. When you met their gazes, they gave you a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, respectfully.

“Good luck, girl!” Mina whisper-shouted.

“You got this, Y/N,” Ochako said. You tried to match her comforting smile with your own, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

You followed behind the dual-haired male, silently wondering what was going on. Once you were outside the classroom, he led you down the hallway to a little corner nook bathed in the golden light of the afternoon.

“Shouto, is everything okay?” you asked, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. “Is something wrong?” At your inquiry, he finally came to a stop in front of a set of windows and turned to face you.

“Yes, everything is fine.” He reassured you. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

You blinked. “Okay,” you said. “Shoot.”

Shouto likewise paused at your usage of unfamiliar slang but didn’t comment on it. “Um,” he started, but drifted off, not finishing the thought. He opened his mouth only to shut it again after a moment or two without making a sound. You furrowed your brows as you continued to watch him struggle for words.

“Um, Sho?” you prodded. He didn’t respond, however, still thinking over his next words. Shouto never hesitates, you thought with a mixture of wonderment and anxiety. Is something bothering him? you thought with growing concern. You felt your heart come to a skittering stop as another horrifying conclusion came to mind; am I the problem?

“I overheard you and the other girls’ conversation on Movie Night,” he confessed at last, interrupting your spiraling train of thought. He bashfully looked away as if he was ashamed.

“Oh, okay?” you responded, absentmindedly going through the events of the night in question. Your heartbeat began to calm down to a normal rate. “What conversation?” You couldn’t think of anything in particular and were about to ask him to elaborate before the realization hit you like a freight train.

“I like him a little.”

“Okay, I will! I will confess my feelings to him!”

“Yeah, girl, you got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

Oooohhhhh.

Fuck.

Maybe he didn’t hear that particular part of the conversation! You tried to reassure yourself as you waited for Shouto to answer your question. Your heart rate picked back up as panic began to settle in. We were there for several hours. There is so much he could’ve—

“You have an admiration going on.” You hate to admit you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before his formal wording translated into modern speech. You have a crush.

FUCK!

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” you rushed out, trying to save face and whatever friendship you had with Shouto. You felt your cheeks burn. “Please, just forget you ever heard that!”

Shouto snapped his head to you as your words registered in his brain. “Why would I do that?” he asked after a moment. “We live in the same building with shared living space, barely anything is not overheard by another.”

Oh God, how much did he overhear?

“Besides,” he continued. “At our age, it is completely natural for one to harbor feelings for another.”

You blinked at him as his words registered, your cheeks now tingling due to the burn. Gosh, he sounds like a grandpa giving the birds and the bees talk.

“It—it’s j-just,” you stammered. “I-I-I—” You let out a harsh breath in frustration when your words continued to fail you. Shouto raised a brow before his eyes narrowed. Your heart sank when you saw that.

Oh great, he’s annoyed!

“Are you all right?” he asked before moving so he was right in front of you. You squeaked at the sudden warmth of his body heat as he placed a hand on your forehead. “Do you feel ill? You feel warm, and your face looks to be flushed with some perspiration gathering on your forehead.” His eyes frantically looked you up and down as he examined you for any further signs of sickness. “I should get you to Recovery Girl.”

“N-no!” you exclaimed when he went to sweep you off your feet. “Sh-Shouto, I—I’m fine, really. I’m n-not s-sick.”

“Oh?” Shouto blinked in confusion and, adorably, subtly tilted his head to the side. “Then why are you so febrile? And you are stuttering?”

“It’s not because I am sick. I’m just em-embarrassed.” You whispered the last part, and you couldn’t help but look away from Shouto in shame.

“Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed, Y/N?” You shut your mouth, refusing to speak. Shouto sensed your hesitation. The light slowly left his heterochromatic eyes and he bashfully looked away from you. “Is . . . is it because you don’t want to be seen with me?” he asked. “For fear that your crush will see us together and not return your affection?”

You let out a gasp in surprise. “What? No!” You are quick to reassure him—your actual crush—of your intentions. “That’s not it at all!”

Shouto met your gaze again. His eyes lit up with what looked like . . . anticipation? Hope? You weren’t sure, but your heart began to race in trepidation. “Then what is it?”

“I like you,” you blurted out. You shut your eyes and covered your face with your hands, trying to hide from your drowning embarrassment. “Like, not even a little bit, but, like, really, really like you.” You whispered from behind your hands.

There was no immediate response from the dual-haired male. You didn’t dare to remove your hands from your face to check if he was still standing in front of you.

He probably didn’t hear me. You internally slapped yourself upside the head.

Before you could react, Shouto was carefully removing your hands from your face. His touch was gentle, like he was afraid you would crack and break under his fingertips. “Why are you hiding from me?” he whispered. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him.

“I—I.” Despite your efforts, words weren’t able to come out of your mouth.

“You should never feel like you need to hide,” he continued. He let out an airy tsk before he reached his hand up and gently tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear. You felt your face heat up even more at the action. “Especially from me.”

What.

“W-what?” you voiced aloud. You blinked a couple times, trying to bring your brain back from the brink of short-circuiting.

Shouto chuckled lowly, moving impossibly closer into your space. “I think you need to get your hearing checked out, love.”

You blinked some more. “What?”

“Have I broken you?” he asked, the corner of his perfect lips turning up at the thought. “First you forget your words, and now you have lost your hearing. . .” he trailed off as he continued to stare intently into your eyes.

What is he playing at. . .? you wondered as you blankly stared at him.

The two of you stood there and took each other in for quite a while. In reality, it mustn’t have been for very long—at most a minute and a half—but to you, it felt like hours. You were so close you could see the light reflecting in his heterochromatic eyes and the small streaks of gray in the turquoise-colored one.

“I . . . like you, too,” Shouto suddenly confessed, violently snapping you out of the daze his proximity causes. “I have harbored feelings for you for some time now.”

WHAT!?

“You . . . do?” you asked, skeptical. You were hesitant to believe his words in fear that this whole thing was some sick prank. But—

No. Shouto isn’t that type of person, you thought. He barely understands humor as it is, so he must be telling the truth.

“I do,” he confirmed.

“Oh, um.” You fumbled again for words, embarrassment flooding your entire system once more. You licked your dry lips, missing the way Shouto’s eyes locked onto the movement. “Cool.”

Shouto blinked at you, one of his perfect eyebrows raising. “Cool?” he repeated with a sly smile overcoming his lips.

“Mhm.” You dumbly nodded. “Cool.” You paused before muttering a small, “Ditto.”

He chuckled again, subtly moving the tiniest bit closer to you. He was just about crowding you into the corner at this point. “Ditto, huh?” He mumbled under his breath with a widening smirk playing at his lips. “I think I have broken you, dear.”

You grinned. “Perhaps.” Shouto chuckled again before falling silent. The two of you stared at the other, lost in each other’s gazes.

“Can I kiss you?” He spoke on an exhale, his deep voice somehow even deeper. Before you could internally flip the fuck out and fully comprehend what was happening, you were already nodding. That was all the confirmation Shouto needed before he brought your lips in for a sensual kiss. Fireworks exploded behind your eyelids as you relaxed into him.

You smiled into the kiss. Thank you, chopsticks.

The next day, you and Shouto walked into the classroom holding hands. Everyone collectively stopped what they were doing to openly gape at the two of you as Shouto, always the gentleman, escorted you to your seat. The shocked silence lasted all but three seconds before Mina and Tooru let out ear-piercing shrieks and practically tackled you.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Mina was shouting meanwhile Tooru was holding onto you so tight to the point that she was nearly crushing you into her invisible body.

“AHHHH, I knew this was gonna happen!” she exclaimed before somehow pulling you in closer.

“Can’t . . . breathe.” You wheezed out before your boyfriend pulled you away from the two fangirls and protectively held you to his chest.

“I would be grateful if you didn’t crush my girlfriend to death, Tooru.” He intoned in his naturally dry tenor. His statement only made them freak out even more.

“Ah! Look at the two love birds!” Ochako swooned.

“Fuckin’ disgustin’,” grumbled a deep voice from somewhere in the back of the room.

Before you could turn to shoot Bakugou a death glare, Shouto was already clapping back. “What, are you jealous, Bakugou?”

The desks which had surrounded the blond a moment prior were blown to shiverines.

“I’LL END YOU!”

Fin.

→ extras: snapshot 1, snapshot 2, fic tag

No plagiarizing, re-uploading, translating, or copying of any kind or on any platform of my writing or inserted into any type of AI generator. Do not recommend my work on TikTok. Do not repost on YouTube.

#shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha x reader #shouto x reader #shoto x reader #fic: ditto #todoroki x you #shoto x you #shouto x you

4K notes · View notes

porcalinecunt · 8 months ago

Note

heyy could i ask for a jason todd x reader where they’re fucking in his room and dick happens to walk by and he js peek inside and … ykwim 😩

02 𐙚 KINKTOBER — 𝐏𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐌!

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 the wayne manor was supposed to be empty, leaving you and your boyfie jay alone to spend a night together. unfortunately, the door wasn’t closed . . .

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD & DICK GRAYSON X GN! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — afab!reader, pervert!dick, peeping, masterbation, jealousy, anal sex, mentions of size kink, dickie being deplorable <3

・:。[ author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ omfg anon, you probably awoke smth in me with this AHHHH— i might make this a kinktober entry bc its just too good! <33

“you alright..?” jason asked as he finally bottomed out. you couldn’t reply until you caught your breath and brought your whines down a notch, yet you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at you’re boyfriend in the eye. nor could you get used to having sex in the wayne mansion.

with such a large house, loud noises are bound to echo all the way into the batcave, hence why it was rare for you and jason to fuck freely in the mansion. not helping the fact that the wayne’s are a rather large family. jay’s six psudo-siblings, the bat himself and alfred makes privacy a bit difficult to have.

tonight however, was different. with bruce and most of the batkids gone to a gala for the night, the vigilante saw the golden opportunity and dragged your ass right out of your apartment for some “quality” time. of course, spending it by fucking you raw on his king sized bed for round after round as loud as he wants. hell, he didn’t bother to close the bedroom door all the way.

a fatal mistake on his end. the smallest sounds leaked through the crack, every slap to the thigh to him muttering dirty talk could’ve been heard by anyone walking by, and it was. unknowingly to either of you, someone else was nosy enough to peek through and watch the free show in front of him.

dick “dickhead” greyson, as jason lovingly refers to him by. even before you confessed to jay, you knew dick was into you. always boring his eyes into your skin as he admired every inch of your being, only for his younger brother to swoop in and take you himself. the golden boy harbors at least some jealousy, and why blame him? he’s a lover at heart, too stubborn to let go of a crush that had him palming himself when the lights went out.

now here he is, staring through the cracked door at your face while jason ruts another one in you. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as another mewl for more slipped through your teeth. “another? someone missed me a ton huh..”

he chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips in a lazy attempt to swallow your moans as he pistons his soaked cock into your cunt, clawing another orgasm out of you. the sounds of skin to skin contact drowned out the external noise of dick’s panting just a couple feet away.

he knew it was wrong, downright disgusting. peeping his own brother boning his partner’s cunt over and over again, something only a degenerate would dream of. yet, he couldn’t help himself. not with the pretty noises you’d make when jay breeds your pussy full, or the faces you’d make that contorts with pleasure. he’d fucking kill to be in that room.

with his hard cock in his hand, the ex-boy wonder pumped away at the live porno playing out. question after question running through his head, wondering the things he could do to you if he was shameless enough to walk in. “hah..ahh..fuck y/n, driving me insane here..”

he sighed, stroking himself faster as jason flipped you onto your stomach and stuffing himself into your tight ass. ‘fuck, that’ll do it..’ dick thought to himself, he never knew you were into anal, especially with a man as rough as his brother.

meanwhile, you could practically feel your third orgasm turn your body into jelly. you’re arms were close to giving out yet your boyfriend kept you up by the nape. the difference in size made you a ragdoll compared to your tank of a man, something that went straight into dick’s twitching cock.

“so small..so fuckin’ cute..” he trailed off as his orgasm made itself obvious as spurts of cum splattered against the wooden door. his eyes locked onto your trembling figure as his breathing turned into full on moans.

“jay..baby, m’ gonna cum..!” you whined as jason’s thrusts grew sloppier by the second. dick bit his bottom lip, he was already making a huge mess. a harmony of moans and skin slapping finally muted out the golden boy as he came all over himself and the door. at the same time as you and jay cumming together.

as he watched you and your boyfriend snuggle in the sweaty afterglow, dick stares down at his cum shot palm and the streaks of white on the door. he knew he had to clean up his act before jason finds out and tears him a new asshole for being a perv.

he simply couldn’t help it though, especially waiting the next time he sees your pretty ass bent over.

1K notes · View notes

blitziwitchwrites · 4 days ago

Text

DADDY WANTS A BABY!

pairing: ex best friend’s dad!ryomen sukuna x happy!reader

content tags/warnings: MINORS DNI, smut, filthy filthy filthy smut, ooc sukuna & ooc uraume, cheating, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and sukuna is in his late 30’s/early 40’s), older boyfriend x younger girlfriend, uraume is sukuna’s offspring, afab reader, mentions of cheating (uraume slept with reader’s ex-boyfriend, hakari), cuteness with little yuji, breeding, unprotected piv sex, lowk yan!sukuna, feral sukuna, size difference, overstimulation, DADDY KINK!, creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering. rough/intense, slight jealousy sex, sukuna gets jealous that you gave yuji so much attention so he’s gonna give you a baby of his own, choking, hair pulling, mentions of car sex, clothes ripping, sukuna is lowk FERAL

summary: six months after your best friend, uraume, slept with your boyfriend and, in return, you slept with their hot father sukuna, you end up at a family barbecue at jin itadori- uraume’s uncle and sukuna’s twin brother-’s house. however, this time, you’re not there as uraume’s best friend, but rather, sukuna’s date. except uraume isn’t all that happy to see you there with your dad. luckily for them, yuji manages to distract you throughout most of the night. unluckily for you (aka extremely luckily for you), sukuna has a thing or two to say (and do) about you ditching him to hang out with his little nephew.

author’s note: AHHHH I KNOW THIS TOOK A WHILE, BUT HERE IT IS!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL OF THE LOVE ON PART ONE! hehehehehe here we go.

word count: 5k words

here is part one!

—————

if you got your hands on a time machine and went back in time to seven months ago, and told yourself about your present-day life? you wouldn’t have believed it for even a moment. which, honestly? how could you?

not only was your seemingly loving and devoted boyfriend, hakari, cheating on you… but it had been with your best friend, uraume. that information alone would’ve devastated and broken your heart, and it did, but what helped soothe the blow and made the pain far more manageable? you managed to get your revenge. not only did you fuck uraume’s father, sukuna (who you always thought hated you your entire life… turned out that was not true), but you were in a full blown relationship with him! six months in, you were already moved out of your parents’ house (they possibly had the world’s biggest freakout when you told them why you weren’t so heartbroken over uraume and hakari’s betrayals) and in with sukuna, sharing a bed with them- which uraume loathed. however, unable to afford a new place- and unwelcome to move into hakari’s apartment (after they got together as their own little ‘revenge’ ploy, despite the obvious disinterest in a serious relationship on hakari’s end), uraume was suffering.

and you couldn’t be happier.

except, while uraume’s suffering and burden of having to manage their ex-best friend loudly fucking their father every night was certainly delicious, it wasn’t why you were happy. no, sukuna treated you like a queen. he loved you far better than hakari ever did or could, and the side of sukuna that he’d shown you over the past six months had completely blown you away. you’d never even seen him kiss uraume’s mother, before she left. and yet, sukuna couldn’t seem to ever get his hands off of you. passionate kisses in the kitchen over coffee, running his hands along your skin when you were trying to brush your teeth and get dressed for school in the morning, pressing his fingers deep inside of you and up against your most sensitive places during nearly every car ride- you never thought sukuna’s love language would be touch, and yet, it clearly was one of his biggest ones, if not his biggest one.

today was no different. it was summertime, and it was a hot and sunny day out, and it was the day of one of the annual family events for the sukuna household that you had always gone to: jin itadori’s summer family barbecue. however, instead of going as uraume’s special guest and friend, things were different this time. you were with sukuna.

by the time you two arrived at jin’s house, you were already almost two hours late. uraume had arrived with hakari a long time ago, along with choso and yuki- jin’s eldest step son and kaori’s oldest son, and the boy’s fiance. but it wasn’t your fault! the two of you kept getting distracted when you were getting dressed, your light blue swimsuit hugging too tightly to your curves, your cleavage exposed and your pretty pussy just looking too tempting in the pretty fabric for sukuna not to have a taste (or three) before the two of you left. when you put your cover-up on over your swimsuit, sukuna looked at you like you’d committed the kind of heinous crime that even he was incapable of committing. and then, just to emphasize his claim on you, he couldn’t help but pull over the car on the side of the road halfway through your travel to jin’s house, bending you over in his backseat to pump you full with a load of his cum before finally managing to drive the rest of the way to jin’s house before he lost his self control and just drug you back home to rip it off of you and spend the rest of the day with his head between your thighs and his cock knocking on your womb.

when you walked inside jin’s front door, entering the foyer of his large house, you were immediately greeted with a view directly into jin’s kitchen, where he stood at his kitchen island, a large knife in his hand as he finished cutting up a ripe and fresh watermelon. sitting in the stools at the island, uraume and hakari’s gazes automatically snapped towards you. uraume scowled, their face scrunching in disgust at the way sukuna’s hand smugly squeezed your waist, his arm wrapped securely and possessively around you. meanwhile, hakari’s eyes roamed up and down your body, clearly taking note of your cover-up that just barely hid the shape of your body and the dip of your breasts. hakari’s breath hitched, earning a smack in the arm from uraume, while you smiled at jin and walked with sukuna into the kitchen, jin slowly setting down the knife and putting it away… all too aware of the dynamic between the four people he was now, unfortunately, trapped in the kitchen with.

“hi, jin!” you cheerfully chirp, your face lighting up as you step away from sukuna, over to his twin brother, who was much more tattoo-less and clean cut than sukuna, but not quite as muscular or sharp as him either. jin’s face softens, a gentle smile resting on his face as you wrap your arms around him in a hug, resulting in his hugging you back, tugging you close and giving you a firm, friendly hug. he had always liked you, even more than he liked sukuna’s kid, which he was never all that proud of. when sukuna had informed him of everything that happened, he was quite surprised to find out that his twin brother was fucking his kid’s best friend, but… he was just glad you were okay. at least someone was looking out for you. and you would always be considered family to him. “hey, kid. how have you been?”

“oh, she’s been good.” uraume said, their tone icey and cold and matter-of-fact. “i mean, how could she not be, considering she’s been sleazing around with my dad and all?”

you sigh, pulling away from jin as he shoots uraume a glare that tells them to behave themselves. hakari glances at uraume, and then at you, before he shrinks when he sees sukuna’s eyes land on him. the color drains from his face- for the past six months, anytime sukuna saw hakari, it wasn’t pretty. sukuna wouldn’t allow hakari in his house, always telling uraume to make him leave. hakari knew not to mess with sukuna… even if he loathed the man much more now than he did before for stealing his girl (as if it was sukuna’s fault that he couldn’t treat you right).

“did you need any help?” you ask, looking up at jin, straight up ignoring uraume’s taunts and attempts at getting a rise out of you. today was not the day for that- at least not for you. you weren’t going to cause a scene in front of the rest of the family. uraume was perfectly capable of looking stupid all on their own.

“actually, yeah.” jin said, scooping up the rest of the diced watermelon that he had sliced, placing it in the large serving bowl at the center of the table, “can you bring this outside? yuji’s been asking for it for an hour now, i just haven’t had a minute to finish prepping it.” jin said, looking over at you, before passing you the bowl. “i’m sure he will be quite happy that the food is being delivered by the person he’s been most excited to see all month.”

your heart swells, and you smile, giggling softly as you take the bowl from jin. “aw, i’m so excited to see him too!” you chirp, turning to exit the kitchen. before you do, a large tattoo hand rests on the island in front of you, stopping you before you can head outside. your face turns red as you look up, batting your eyelashes at sukuna while he leans down, cupping your cheek with his free hand. he tilts your head back, pressing his lips against yours, gently pressing his body against you. you back into the island, squeezing the bowl of watermelon, melting into sukuna’s kiss as you return it, your face turning even more red as he bites your lip hard enough for it to puff up and swell, his teeth marks imprinted into your flesh before he pulls away, dragging your lip out with his teeth.

“for fucks sake, dad.” uraume growls, getting up from the table. they huff, scowling at the two of you as you ignore uraume and hakari, too lost in your own little world of love to care about the steam erupting from their ears. uraume then huffs, grabbing hakari’s wrist as he watches attentively, his eyes glued to your face and the way you bite gently down on your swollen lip while you look at sukuna, his heart clenching before he scowls up at sukuna, turning to uraume, before stumbling after her as uraume storms outside, disgusted by the scene of the kitchen.

sukuna’s eyes flicker up as he watched uraume and hakari slide out the back door, into the backyard. a low chuckle escapes his lips, before he looks down at you, grinning to himself. “oops.”

“yeah. oops.” you tease in return, a soft laugh leaving your lips before you gently pull away. “alright, i’ma go see yuji. i will catch you in a bit.” you smile gently, before you turn, walking out the back door as well with the watermelon, sukuna’s eyes trailing down to your ass as you leave.

sukuna bites his lips, watching as you leave, before he glances over at jin, whose face is red as a tomato from the awkwardness of what he just witnesses. he glances over at sukuna, before he huffs, pushing his glasses up his nose as he looks at his brother. “you better not hurt that poor girl.”

with a low grumble, sukuna rolls his eyes and looks away from jin. his gaze falls out the window as he watches you approach yuji, who is sitting at one of the back tables. as he watches yuji scream and jump out of his chair, pouncing on you before sitting on your lap and beginning to babble and yammer to you as he munches on his watermelon while you listen, his heart squeezes. sukuna lets out a small breath, shaking his head. hurt you? “never.”

—————

you, in fact, did not catch sukuna in a bit. or, well, it was moreso that sukuna did not manage to catch you.

for the rest of the night, every time he managed to get close to you and strike up a conversation with you or get a moment alone? yuji came hopping right along, snatching your attention away before sukuna even had a chance to compete. and he would drag you away every time. he would drag you to the pool to watch him do canonballs in the shallow end (where you waited in the pool to catch him, every time, not wanting him to hit his head or hurt himself by accident). he would urge you to follow him to the grass to look at his mother’s new flowers or to look at a bug he managed to find and catched. even when everybody was eating at the tables, yuji begged to sit on your lap, to which you did, helping cut up his burger into little pieces and break up his vegetables and place his straws in his juice box. and you would stay with him while the two of you ate, watching how you would study yuji eating to make sure he didn’t choke, the boy continuously forgetting to chew his food and talking quickly to you with food in his mouth, just so excited to talk to you!

by the time the night was ending, jin had started the bonfire in the backyard, and the stragglers left at the barbecue were all seated in chairs by the warm glow of the fire. sukuna watched you sit in one of the lawn chairs by the fire, yuji curled up in your chest, gently sucking his thumb as his face rested on your chest, his cheeks squished up against you as his face gently glew from the warm fire, the little boy sleepily speaking to you while you listened, gently stroking his hair in the meantime.

sukuna hated it. the little boy had stolen your attention all night! he had barely gotten a moment alone with you since he arrived, and truth be told, sukuna was about ready to pry the kid right off of your lap and give him two seconds to decide if he wanted sukuna to toss him in his bed or toss him in the bonfire. but the only thing keeping sukuna at bay? was how incredibly sexy you looked while being so nurturing and practically motherly towards his nephew, and how much the little boy looked up to you. sukuna had never felt this way, even towards uraume’s mother when uraume was a small child. sukuna had been young. way too young for a child, and truthfully, sukuna did not want to be a parent. he stayed regardless, however. his father walked out and he could not bring himself to do the same to uraume. and sukuna stayed with uraume’s mother, but he never found attraction in her. she’d been a random one night stand, who got pregnant, and insisted on keeping the baby and raising it as a couple. for years, she’d begged sukuna to marry her. but he just couldn’t bring himself to. he never even slept with her after uraume was conceived. he had been celibate for uraume’s entire life… up until you.

and now? sukuna understood. and it was then that he decided: at the next family barbecue, if you were to be this distracted that you couldn’t manage to find a moment to pay him any mind? it wouldn’t be simply because of yuji. it would be because of your own offspring. sukuna wouldn’t mind as much if you were distracted, due to taking care of a child… as long as it was his.

—————

“sukuna, fuck!”

you hadn’t even made it to the end of the hallway of sukuna’s entryway before your swimsuit was already stripped from your body, your thin cover-up shorts and the bottoms of your bikini tossed across the room and hanging off the stairway leading to the bedrooms. you’re already up against the wall, your back pressed flush against it, your legs draped over sukuna’s shoulders and your hands locked in his hair, his head buried between your legs already.

sukuna’s tongue swirls around your clit repeatedly before he hums around it, causing you to jolt and let out a screech. as you cry out, sukuna slips his hand between your legs, two of his fingers pushing into your tight little hole, squeezing around his fingers as he sucks on your clit and hums. sukuna curls his fingers inside of you, the calloused pads of his fingertips pressing against your gummy walls as he pumps them in and out of your walls. he quickly finds your g-spot, pressing on it as he nips as your clit, causing your legs to spasm and shake while your thighs clench, squeezing his head as his eyes stare up at you from below.

you scream, your walls squeezing and clenching around sukuna’s fingers as he moves them faster, your clit aching and twitching as you kick your feet. you arch your back, tugging harder on sukuna’s hair as he devours your pussy like a man starved, his eyes never leaving your face. meanwhile, yours roll into the back of your head as you scream, your feet swinging and your toes curling as sukuna inserts a third finger into your tight hole. your entrance goes redder, straining and flexing, slightly burning in the best way from the stretch of sukuna’s thick digits inside of you, pummeling and pushing into you, stretching you open as your fluids gush onto his fingers, your guts swirling with need as your mind grows foggy.

sukuna always fucked you like he needed you more than air, but tonight? you had never seen him as needy as he was right then. he pushed you harder into the wall, shoving his face deeper into you and sucking harder on your clit as he pumped his fingers faster. you scream, your back arching against the wall as your hips buck into his face more, your knuckles white from how hard you tug on sukuna’s hair. stars cloud your vision, your eyes rolling into the back of your head and tears spilling from your eyes as you hit your orgasm, your fluids gushing across sukuna’s face as your walls convulse and squeeze, clenching violently around sukuna’s fingers.

and yet, he doesn’t let up.

Instead, he steps away from the wall, but eagerly takes you with him. he slides his fingers out from inside of you, moving his hands to grip your ass as he takes you upstairs, not pulling his face or his tongue away from your pussy for even a second. you writhe, curling downwards to avoid smacking your head on the ceiling as sukuna goes directly up the stairs, practically breaking open his bedroom door from how hard he pushed it with his body, the door swinging open and slamming against the wall beside it.

sukuna immediately moves over to his bed, pulling his face away, tossing you halfway across the room and onto his bed. your body hits the bed with a violent thud, and you bounce against the mattress, your tits swinging a bit in your bikini top, threatening to pop out. the bed creaks as sukuna climbs up onto it, hovering over you as he sheds his shirt, before quickly shedding off his swim trunks. you prop yourself on your elbows, leaning up, looking at sukuna and biting your lip, a soft giggle escaping your lips as sukuna’s cock is freed, smacking violently against his chest, above his belly button. his pre-cum gently splatters across his stomach from the force of its freeing, his tip bright red and angrily throbbing before you.

you gasp as sukuna leans down over you, his hand sliding up the back of your scalp tenderly before he suddenly grips your hair, locking his fingers up against your scalp. he tilts your head down, forcing you to look at his swollen, leaking cock. “look at what you do to me, baby. you can’t ignore me now, can you?”

“ignore you?” you pout slightly, gently bringing a hand down and sliding it down sukuna’s chest. you scoop some of his pre-cum up from his chest with your fingertips, before your gaze flickers up to sukuna. slowly, you stick your tongue out as you stare into his eyes. you drag your fingers along your tongue, slathering his pre-cum along it, his grip on your hair tightening as you curl your fingers into your mouth when you reach the tip of your fingers, slightly sucking on them as you reminisce in the bitter and salty taste of him. you pull your fingers out of your mouth a moment later with a loud ‘pop!’, before you reach the same hand down, poking the tip of your pointer finger onto his cock, rubbing the slit at the very top of his tip. “i could never ignore you, daddy.”

a low grumble escapes sukuna’s throat, his eyes flashing with fury from your teasing as his self control snaps. he slides his hand from the back of your hair downwards, his movement swift, before he pushes you against the bed as he wraps his hand around your throat, shoving you down as his second hand slides along one of your legs, pushing your legs apart and stretching one of your legs up, pushing your ankle to the mattress next to your head, putting you in a near-split as he rubs his cock along the slit of your pussy, staring down at you as he squeezes your throat.

“daddy?” sukuna chuckles, as if the pet name is new, even though it is far from. “the way you’ve been acting today almost makes me think you actually want to make me a daddy.”

“hm?” you tilt your head to the side a bit, bucking your hips up as you let out a soft whimper, his cock teasing your slick folds, “please, daddy-”

“ignoring me all day to take care of that little gremlin,” sukuna grunts, squeezing your throat again as he pushes your leg down more, causing you to gasp. “if you wanted a little brat to look after so bad, you could’ve just asked. would’ve had you bred and swollen already by now.”

“ah~!” you suddenly let out a loud yelp, gasping, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as sukuna pushes himself inside your entrance, your hole already bright red and pulsing with need. he releases a low groan as he splits open your pussy, your folds slick and sticky with your arousal. his cock only seems to grow bigger inside of you, angrily pulsing and throbbing inside your tight cunt, your walls squeezing him so violently that he can see a slight ring forming around the bottom of his cock each time he pulls out from how beautifully suffocating your insides are to his cock. “shit, daddy!”

“what’s the matter, baby girl?” sukuna coos down to you, pushing himself deeper inside of you, his thrusts slow and teasing and mean. he watches how your tummy bulges, the shape of his cock promiment each time he fills you up completely. he can feel the ring of your cervix everytime his cock hits its limit inside of you, and his cock only seems to grow more and pulse against your most sensitive areas when you roll your eyes back and gasp, seeing stars everytime his tip presses right against the entrance of your womb, as if threatening to breech it. “if you think daddy is filling you up now, just wait until you’re carrying daddy’s baby in your tummy, my girl.”

you whine, your back arching off the bed as you gasp, tears spilling down your cheeks from the stretch of sukuna inside of you. “you wanna give me a… a b-baby?”

“what’s the matter, brat?” sukuna grunts, his pace beginning to quicken up. he gently squeezes your throat again, hiding your leg up higher, causing your back to arch and slightly curl off the bed, your ass in the air, growing redder with each slap of his thighs against your plump flesh. “one baby not enough for you? how many babies does my brat want, hm? two? three? daddy’ll give you as many babies as you want, princess. is that what my pretty girl wants?”

as your breath picks up speed, your pussy squeezing and clenching as a knot in your gut gets coiled and wound up so tight you can feel it in your lungs, you let out a loud sob of pleasure. you move your hands, wrapping one around sukuna’s wrist on your throat, while your other hand rests on your belly, pressing down directly against the bulge in your tummy created by sukuna’s cock. his eyes widen, and you let out a loud whimper at the feeling of your walls squeezing even tighter around sukuna’s cock. you nod your head feverishly, your toes curling as you whine out, “yes, daddy! …want your babies-”

“yeah? my pretty girl wants daddy’s babies?” sukuna chuckles. “you gonna give me some good brats, yeah? you gonna be a good mommy to daddy’s babies?”

gasping, you nod your head, your eyes growing wide as sukuna quickens his pace, his cock slamming quickly in and out of you. his balls slap against your ass, your pussy pulsing and squeezing, crying nearly as hard as your eyes are. you sniffle, before you let out a loud scream of pleasure, your pussy squeezing and pulsing as your vision goes white as you cum, squirting on sukuna’s cock as your fluids gush out, coating his cock and his thighs as he pummels into you while you babble and nod your head, sobbing and whining. “gonna be such a good mommy to daddy’s babies…” you slur out, little incoherent babbles following as sukuna continues to mercilessly pound you out.

“such a good girl,” sukuna purrs down to you, squeezing your throat again, slamming himself hard and fast into you, a low grunt and groan escaping his lips before you feel him burst inside of you, painting your walls white with his cum as his cock pulses and pushes inside of you, pushing his seed out and into your womb.

gently, sukuna slows down, without slipping out of you. he gently releases his hold on your leg, tenderly kissing your calf, before he turns your body, plopping down next to you as he turns you on your side, your back pressed against his chest as he gently bends your leg, his hand sliding down and rubbing your thigh. his hand on your neck releases, and gently, sukuna brushes your hair from your face as he kisses your neck and jaw, behind your ears, and softly whispers into your ear. “such a good girl for daddy. daddy’s so proud of you. took my cock so well, baby…” he murmurs softly, burying his face in your neck, “you’re gonna look so pretty with my baby in your belly, my precious girl. you’re gonna be such a good mommy to our little spawns, i just know it. you did such a good job. you deserve all my praise and more, beautiful.” he murmurs into your ear, holding you close.

and gently, you melt into his arms like that, sukuna’s cock still buried inside of you, his cum and your fluids gently leaking out and dripping down your thighs. when he notices it, sukuna chuckles, scooping up the excess and smirking, gently bringing his finger up to your lips, wiping your mixed fluids on his lips as he looks down at you, a sly grin on his face.

“uh oh, baby… looks like some spilled out. daddy’s gonna have to fill you up again, okay, brat? make sure not to spill any this time, yeah? good girl.”

—————

two months later, you’re sound asleep in sukuna’s arms when you’re awoken by the sound of a truck beeping, signaling it is backing up. slowly, you lift your head from the sound, glancing up at sukuna as he groans, the sound having intruded on his dreams of you. he moves his arm up, groaning and moving it over his eyes, before huffing. “the fuck?” he grumbles, looking up at the ceiling. “who the fuck is being so loud this early in the morning?”

“can you go see who is being so loud, please, kuna? i’m sleepy.” you whimper softly, pouting out your bottom lip as you look up at the larger man.

gently, sukuna reaches down, picking up your hand. he slowly lifts it, looking down at it, gently rubbing his thumb over the warm metal of the ring sukuna had put on your finger only a few days after the barbecue. he hums softly, and you gently return the hum, before leaning up and kissing his cheek gently, pouting out your bottom lip against his flesh.

“i’m afraid i might end up behind bars for murdering whoever interrupted my beloved’s beauty sleep, princess.” sukuna hums softly, shifting in the bed, kissing your knuckles. “she needs it after all, since she’s carrying my-”

sukuna’s bedroom door suddenly swings open, and you both jump, looking up to the doorway. standing in the doorway, uraume scowls at the two of you, hatred written across their face. “i’m moving out. there’s a truck outside to collect my things.” uraume huffs.

“going so soon?” sukuna grumbles, rolling his eyes.

“fuck you two. you should be ashamed of yourselves. especially you, dad. what kind of disgusting pervert fucks his child’s best friend?” uraume snarls, clenching their fists. “i’m moving out. i cannot take your torture anymore. never speak to me again. as of today, you no longer have a child, sukuna.”

“at least i wasn’t fucking my best friend’s boyfriend behind her back and lying to her about it,” sukuna grumbles, rolling his eyes. “i am fine with you not being my child. but don’t be so naive as to assume that you will be my only child.” he huffs, leaning back down, snuggling into the bed with you as you shut your eyes, letting out a quiet breath.

“...what?” uraume murmurs out, the color draining from their face at sukuna’s words.

“it’s a good thing you are moving out on your own anyway. we needed your bedroom for the nursery.” sukuna said nonchalantly, shifting behind you.

the color drained from uraume’s face, their eyes widening as they looked at sukuna, before looking down at you as you shut your eyes, carelessly melting into their father. slowly, uraume glances at sukuna’s dresser, and immediately, they spot it: the positive pregnancy tests, all sitting on the dresser like collectibles. uraume stands up straighter, nausea flooding over them as they look back at sukuna. no, this couldn’t be…

and then, finally, your voice quips out as you turn in sukuna’s arms, stuffing your face in his chest. “just keep the noise down. it’s exhausting enough carrying being pregnant with your dad’s baby. i don’t need the sound of your bitterness keeping me up too.”

—————

masterlist!

not proofread.

please do not copy, steal, repost, and/or translate.

817 notes · View notes

hamilando · 10 months ago

Text

ੈ✩ a monaco cruise (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : lando norris x fem reader

summary : the chaotic process of Lando getting a wife

fc: Olivia Culpo

a/n : This is a series, let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts ! it was requested anonymously, thank you for requesting it 🫶🏻

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked ynculpo, mclaren, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 682,278 others

landonorris Monaco with my monegasque 🧡🌟🌅

view comments

user1 isn’t he British ?

user2 his girlfriend is from Monaco

mclaren a win coming up 💪🏻

liked by landonorris

ynculpo my little british man 😮‍💨💫❤️

landonorris from which angle am I little!?

george.russell your height 🫷🏻

landonorris can you like not …interfere ?

user3 Lando with his wife and side chick 🐤

user4 BAHAHA- WE ALL KNOW WHO IS THE SIDE CHICK

user5 who ?

user6 Y/N 🌝

ynculpo excuse me

user4 BAHAHAHAH SHE REPLIED

user5 can you stop with your bahahaha’s?

user6 BAHAHAHAHAH no.

charlesleclerc a very special weekend indeed ✊🏻

landonorris I beating you ?

carlossainz55 I think we all know who is winning

maxverstappen1 me in the race, Lando in the heart

landonorris CAN YOU STOP ✋🏻

user7 I smell something ☕️

user8 max’s comment will not age well

user9 LORD PERCEVAL FOR THE WIN

user10 HAIL LORD HOLY CHARLES LECLERC

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, lilihye and 452,284 others

ynculpo 4 more shots in Monaco 🧡🌅🍑

view comments

maxverstappen1 bunda 🍑

ynculpo 🗿

georgerussell damn, the middle pic be too fine 😮‍💨

ynculpo 🗿

alex.albon marry me middle pic 💪🏻

ynculpo 🗿

lilihye marry me y/n

landonorris HEY, SHOO 🤺

ynculpo it’s a yes lily 🫶🏻

charlesleclerc NO, HIS PLAN

ynculpo what plan 🗿

landonorris his plan of marrying you

ynculpo lando, I know it that there are years before you put a ring on my finger 🌝

landonorris offence taken

ynculpo no offence given 🫷🏻

comments on this post have been restricted

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 87,272 others

f1news Grid drivers and their wags were seen boarding their yatches after the Grand Prix

view comments

user1 might be just going to celebrate the win ?

user2 nah, max would never rather go to sleep

user3 with max loosing and smiling like that- hell no it is not a Grand Prix celebration

user4 calm down, it must be like some lunch get together or something

user5 it might lando’s and max’s wedding 🥹

user6 ofc, with Kelly officiating 🗿

user7 george and carmen have my heart 🥹

user8 charles looks like the rich business dad

user9 he is rich tho-

user10 and alex can bear him a kid so

user11 he already has a kid named bear 🐻

user12 and leo

user13 and oscar

user14 kelly, sweetheart match your foundation like you match your grooming skills

user15 wait till the Dutch man sees this

user16 you have a lawsuit coming up 🔝

user14 it was a joke for legal purposes ofc ☺️

liked by

wagnews Lando Norris and his girlfriend, Y/N Culpo were apparently the last ones to board the cruise 🚢

view comments

user0 they were definitely fuc-

user1 ahhhh body bang 💥

user2 AESPA MENTIONED 🦅🦅

user3 WTF IS A SUPERNOVA !?

user4 lando keeping up his fuckboy title ✊🏻

user5 there is something known as traffic 😭

user6 traffic doesn’t exists in lando’s dictionary 😮‍💨

user7 the amount of sussiness I am getting from this cruise

user8 I second that

user9 I third that

user10 IF ANY F1 DRIVER IS SEEING THIS, TELL US WHAT IS HAPPENING

user11 what if they all are boarding the cruise because of a zombie apocalypse-

user12 WTF, THAT MAKES SENSE

user13 stocking up my buldak ASAP

part 2 part 3

tg: @lydia-demarek @mel164 @h34rts4maisey @poppyflower-22 @dolphlinda

@ilivbullyingjeongin @fangirlforever2000 @magnusi-97 @clo5406 @yesmanbabe

2K notes · View notes

chvoswxtch · 3 months ago

Text

the head of the snake

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: matt murdock comes home to a stranger in his apartment.

warnings: swearing, mentions of drug & human trafficking

word count: 2.3k

a/n: ahhhh happy born again day to all who celebrate!!! i'm so fucking excited to finally put this out. i'm so excited that so many of y'all are so excited. I hope y'all love this as much as I do. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[next chapter] | [series masterlist]

The unfamiliar heartbeat was calm. The rhythm was steady. The lungs expanded and collapsed in relaxed intervals. The blood was in no rush to pump through the highways of veins and vessels that branched throughout the body. For a split second, Matt almost thought the stranger that was in his apartment sitting on his couch might be asleep, but their heartbeat wasn’t nearly slow enough to be unconscious.

Matt had been standing outside the front door of his loft, which was locked, for several minutes. His head was cocked slightly to the side as he focused his heightened senses on the foreign presence in his home. All Matt could decipher was that it was a woman, and not one he’d ever encountered before. There was nothing about her that sparked recognition in his brain. He had no idea who she was, or how she’d managed to get inside.

Slipping his key into the lock as silently as possible, he twisted it to the left until there was a faint click, and as he turned the knob and pushed the door open, he braced himself for whatever, and whoever, was waiting for him.

His steps were calculated and careful, avoiding the worn wooden floorboards that creaked under even the slightest pressure of weight. He kept his back flat against the half wall that separated the entryway from the kitchen, stopping a few inches before it ended and made his presence visible in the open layout. He had the advantage that his couch faced his bedroom on the opposite side of the apartment, which meant her back was to him.

She hadn’t budged at all, her heart rate remained steady, and she sat comfortably with her legs crossed. Her head was tilted slightly towards the right, presumably looking out the two large paned windows that interrupted the aged rows of rust colored brick.

Keeping his footsteps silent, he slowly stalked towards her like a predator advancing on prey. Just as the toe of his shoe reached the edge of the area rug, she suddenly spoke up.

“You’re home early. I wasn’t expecting you for another hour or so.”

Matt immediately froze, his right knee slightly bent in a halted half step forward. He hadn’t made a single sound, and he hadn’t picked up on any indication that she even knew he was there.

“Who the hell are you?”

There was a faint twitch at the edges of her lips. Amusement. He could hear it in her voice when she spoke again.

“You know, for a blind man, you’re very perceptive. But then again, you aren’t just any blind man, are you Matthew?”

The way she said his name was almost taunting, emphasizing the fact that she knew it, just like she knew where he lived, and apparently how to break into his apartment. As she subtly turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, he straightened up, squaring his shoulders as he clenched his jaw.

“Answer the question.”

She took her time as she stood up, smoothing her dress down with her hands, casually walking around the edge of the couch to face him. Matt clenched his hands into fists at his sides, his body tense as his heightened senses worked overtime to decipher if this woman was a threat. She stopped a few feet away, and he could feel her eyes on him, looking him up and down. He detected the faintest of a smirk at the edge of her mouth and the quirk of her left brow.

“Are you always this welcoming to your guests?”

Matt wasn’t used to not having the upperhand. It was unfamiliar territory, and he didn’t like it. Trying to tip the power dynamic in his favor, one that he was still figuring out, he took two bold steps towards her.

“Guest implies an invitation.”

There wasn’t a trace of fear, or even apprehension in her body when he advanced towards her. Instead, she let out a deep exhale through her nose and folded her arms over her chest.

“Fine. Since you’re not in the mood for small talk, I’ll skip the bullshit and cut to the chase. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Matt’s defensive stance faltered slightly, puzzlement creasing between his dark brows as he cocked his head to the side subtly.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. We’re a-”

“I know what S.H.I.E.L.D. is.”

Matt countered, cutting her off, a hint of annoyance creeping into his tone. He knew exactly what the organization was and what they did. What he didn’t know was what the hell that had to do with him.

“Then why did you ask with that stupid look on your face?”

Matt pursed his lips in a firm line at her quick rebuttal. Everytime he tried to seize dominance over this new unfamiliar dynamic, the scales of power shifted in her favor. It was grating on his nerves in a way that had his skin feeling several degrees warmer and his suit jacket suddenly heavy and unbearable.

Beginning to shrug the jacket off his broad shoulders, he carelessly tossed it forward in frustration, landing perfectly over the back of the couch, a movement that did not go unnoticed by her.

“And what does S.H.I.E.L.D. want with me?”

“What, you think we don’t have a department dedicated to you street level people?”

In the midst of rolling his left sleeve up to his forearm, Matt abruptly froze, two of his fingers still tucked under the crisp fabric of his dress shirt and his thumb hovering over the folded fabric. The way she said it was so casual, but there was an undertone of implication, something extremely subtle but consequently unnerving.

She couldn’t possibly know.

Matt decided to do what he normally did in the courtroom when trying to get the other side to reveal their hand; he called her bluff.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She let out a deep exhale of disappointment through her nose, giving him a pointed look.

“I thought we agreed to skip the bullshit.”

Everything about this woman Matt found exceedingly infuriating. Here she was, standing in the middle of his apartment, that she’d broken into, calmly dangling the idea over his head that she seemed to know exactly who he really was. If she did know, which Matt didn’t know how the hell she possibly could, that put the knowledge of his biggest secret in her hands, and it gave her a power over him he wasn’t ready to submit to. There was a feeling in his gut, like a sixth heightened sense, that whatever the reason was that this woman was actually here was about to alter his life in a big way.

Matt continued to roll the fabric up until it reached about an inch below his elbow, and he steeled his expression while he undid the button on the cuff of his right wrist and repeated the action of rolling up his other sleeve.

“What do you know?”

“Just assume I know everything.”

Letting out an aggravated exhale through his nose, Matt placed his hands on his hips and leaned his weight on his left foot, his fingers brushing over the leather of his belt.

“That is frustratingly vague.”

She could hear him growing more and more annoyed by the second, and see it on his face as well as in his body language. One of her brows lifted in amusement as the faintest of a smile graced the edge of her lips, and she tilted her head to the side in a gesture of faux confusion.

“Is it?”

The sound of bone grinding against bone as Matt grit his teeth in growing vexation made him twitch subtly in discomfort, the noise it caused like sharp nails being dragged across a chalkboard in slow motion in his own ears. He reached up to loosen his tie around his neck, yanking on the fabric like he was giving slack to a noose. He unbuttoned the small button of the collar with one hand, and the larger one beneath it, tugging the fabric away from his neck.

His indignation always seemed to turn into physical discomfort that made his clothes feel entirely too restricting and his skin too warm. The sweat that began to seep from his pores was like liquified anger trying to find a way out of his body when he wasn’t able to expel it with action.

“What do you want with me?”

“I don’t want you. They do. You weren’t exactly my first choice.”

The look of offense that flashed across his face almost pulled a genuine laugh out of her, but she kept her expression neutral, even though he could feel the way her lips twitched in amusement again. She turned to retrieve something from her purse and then took a step forward, holding it out towards Matt.

“Here.”

His curiosity piqued, Matt extended his hand, his fingers brushing over the smooth cardstock of a thick file that he grasped in his hand.

“What’s this?”

“A folder.”

Matt shot her a displeased look, his lips pursed as his fingers brushed over what felt like an embossed symbol in the middle.

“I meant what’s inside, smartass.”

“Paper.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Matt muttered under his breath, which did earn a real smile from her as her brows raised in surprise.

“Wow, your file said you were Catholic. Then again, I suppose taking the Lord’s name in vain isn’t the worst thing you do on a daily basis.”

“I’ll add it to the list for confession.”

Matt retorted dryly, cracking open the file as his fingers began to trace back and forth over the documents. Each section had a tab with a label that was also in Braille. If he wasn’t so annoyed, he would’ve been impressed by how meticulously organized the file was, and how accessible. A faint furrow creased the middle of his forehead as he read the contents inside.

It was a detailed file on a local Russian gang here in New York that Matt had been investigating for months now. It wasn’t the mafia that had worked for Fisk. Those brothers were a daydream compared to this new organization he’d been trying to take down. The Russian mafia’s primary focus had been drug trade, but the Krasnaya Pravaya Ruka’s operation was far more sinister.

A few months ago, a new player had seemingly seized control over the other crime organizations almost over night. With Fisk out of the way, the throne had been open for the taking, and while there weren’t many organizations left after The Punisher had wiped out the top three gangs in the city and Matt had disbanded Fisk’s entire operation in one way or another, there were still a few left fighting for power. But in the midst of the chaos, someone had stepped in, and they seemed to cast an even bigger shadow than Fisk ever did.

Matt had been tirelessly working his way through low level thugs dealing on the streets. The leader was smart, and clearly had the resources to operate efficiently enough to move millions of dollars worth of product around and the stealth to do it silently in the shadows. The drug dealers on the corners were just pawns, convenient pieces to move around to distract from the rest of the board. It took four whole months before Matt discovered what the real product was.

People.

The drugs were just a front for the human trafficking ring that had formed right here under his nose in the city. They were smoke and mirrors to distract local law enforcement, leading them down a never ending wild goose chase of one expendable dealer after another that had no real connection to each other. It left the NYPD, and Matt, consistently at dead ends. While they had been following the powder trail, humans were being imported and exported like mere livestock in cargo at the docks.

“Pier Nineteen. Saturday night, eleven-thirty. Bring your little red number.”

As she grabbed her purse and slipped it over her shoulder, turning to head towards the door, Matt’s expression twisted up in puzzlement and irritation. His hand swiftly darted out to grab her wrist, not hard enough to be aggressive, but firm enough to halt her in place.

“Whoa whoa whoa, I’m not going anywhere with you, not until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

She’d stiffened when he grabbed her, and he heard her heart rate rise slightly, but not in fear. Her free hand subtly closed in a half clasped fist, a defensive motion that didn’t go unnoticed by Matt.

“If I give you a hint, are you gonna quit pouting?”

Matt’s lips quickly pursed in annoyance as he grit his teeth again. He let go of her wrist and let out another frustrated exhale through his nose.

“I’m not-”

“That trafficking ring you’re trying to single handedly take down? You’ve barely scratched the fucking surface. You want the head of the snake or what?”

tags: @the-swift-escape @lambmurdock @lunakkey @lfdybadgirlsdoitw @devilmurdock64 @moonyinthestars @suits-and-smirks @day-dreaming-goddess @natashasotherhalf @rebel13lion39 @pixelfaery @ebsmind

the devil and the widow soundtrack

taglist sign up for updates

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock series #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil series #the devil and the widow series #tdatw

527 notes · View notes

dearsubong · 2 months ago

Text

if choi su bong ✞ was your baby daddy .ᐟ

about ✧ headcannons about choi su bong being your baby daddy. a lot of sfw/not much nsfw

warnings ✧ 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff

an ✧ this was going to be headcannons of nam gyu dae ho jun ho and in ho too but i was too lazy and need to post 😩

SFW

in pregnancy, he’s gotten softer and stopped everything, trying to stop his addiction and stop going out all the time. for you. for your baby.

he would watch those youtube videos and tiktoks about ‘how to relieve your pregnant wife from pregnancy’ or similar subjects.

he secretly came up behind you and held your heavy belly. you gasped at the unexpected touch but felt relieved as you felt the weight come off your body.

“that’s nice, su bong.” your head falls back to his shoulder behind you and sigh deeply. he smiles at your satisfaction.

“i’m glad, babe.” he murmured against your ear.

you really said ‘i can fix him’ because when he’s around you, he’s putty.

and yet, around others, he’s still strict but jokes around.

in public, when you and him are having a walk or in the mall to eat and/or shop, his arm is always around your shoulder, telling everyone around him that’s you’re his with just his eyes and eyebrows, raising them up and down when some guy looks at you.

with his friends, he DEFINITELY brags. he would just yap about your pregnancy to them about 3 quarters of the time. other quarter is that he isn’t there. he’s taking care of you ♡︎

after chul was born, he’s gotten a lot more protective even thought he already was extremely protective before him.

he would teach chul some of his lyrics, the most popular, ‘bang bang bang’ with little finger guns.

you knew that because a random time when chul ran up to you and wanted to show you something. he had did that same thing his appa taught him.

chul put up finger guns and saying, “bang, bang, bang!” before running off—a bit obviously to his father—giggling. “let’s go!” he yelled before running into chul’s room. you felt like you were taking care of su bong as well.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

even when you were pregnant, that didn’t stop him from fucking you.

he’d pound your fucking brains out, dumbifying you. he would try to be gentle since you still have a baby bump.

sometimes, when you wanted to please him, he’d let you ride him. although, you’d get tired a bit quickly so he held you up and fucked into you upwards.

but when he got you to give him a blow job, oh, he’d thrust his dick so far down your throat that his dick was bulging out of your neck.

he’s only trying to feed his unborn baby ♡︎

if you miss a drop of his cum, he’d pout and whine about you trying to starve your unborn baby.

“babyyy! he needs to be fed.” he argues even though he already swallowed a dump of his sperm in your throat.

you would fuck when chul was in the other room. yeah, you two were loud, but who cares? not like chul would understand.

yeah, no…

one dinner time, he mentioned it.

“eomma, appa, what were you two doing last night?” you and su bong froze, looking at each other, deciding who should respond.

you hurriedly replied first. “oh, we were just—talking. sorry, we’re we loud?” you blush.

he nods. “all i could hear was ‘a-ahhhh, su bong! right there!’ and a lot more. who’s su bong, eomma?”

chul didn’t know yours and su bongs name yet.

but you and him were shocked at the mimic. “accurate.” su bong replies amusingly. you slap his arm and his pouts, whining dramatically.

at times, when he’s really needy and horny, he’d fuck you in the kitchen, on the counter. all while chul was watching a cartoon in the living room, too glued to the show to even bother to you and him.

you would try to be quiet as hard as you can, covering your mouth, muffling what could’ve been loud moans and—

taking the back shots so well ♡︎

#squid game #squid game 2 #thanos #thanos squid game #thanos x reader #choi su bong #choi su bong squid game #Choi su bong x reader #thanos smut #choi su bong smut #thanos fluff #choi su bong fluff

468 notes · View notes

lemonsdietcoke · 5 months ago

Text

Parting Gift - Player 230

Dark!Thanos/Choi Su-bong x Fem!Reader

This is part 2 of my mini series love ridden (you don’t have to read part 1 but it helps you get a deeper understanding of their relationship)

Warnings: Toxic relationship,Emotional manipulation and gaslighting, DUBCON/implied sexual misconduct, power imbalances and coercion,mentions of substance abuse,threats of self-harm, mentions of bruising, vomiting, unreliable memory

Summary: “It ended bad, but I love what we started.” A night out, was supposed to be a distraction, a step to moving on. Instead it leaves you questioning everything. Loosely inspired by Parting gift-Fiona apple

MINORS DNI!

A/n: ahhhh here it is! This is very much a wild ride so be prepared and get comfortable lol. Lmk if yall fw. I love feedback. Lmk what you think!!

……………………..

“Two years.”

It echoes in your head as you stare at your phone. The screen blinks, illuminating the dark, quiet apartment, and your reflection stares back at you. Hollow eyes. Lifeless skin.

You don’t even recognize yourself anymore.

Two years of late nights.

Two years of broken promises.

Two years of fights that always ended the same way — with you apologizing for things you hadn’t even done.

Two years of Su-bong.

The notifications keep coming.

Messages. Missed calls. Voicemails.

You blocked him a week ago. You had to.

Before that, you let the calls go unanswered. You left his texts on read. But after that voicemail, you couldn’t take it anymore.

It wasn’t just the things he said.

It was the way he sounded.

Drunk. High out of his mind. Slurring his words like he could barely get them out.

You’d heard him like that before, of course. Countless times. But this was different.

The shaking breath at the beginning of the message.

The muffled sound of a bottle cap hitting the floor.

The distinct rattle of a pill bottle.

And then his voice —

Low. Rough. Desperate.

“You know, if you don’t fucking answer me…”

There was a pause. You could hear him breathing.

“Maybe I should just end it all.”

Another pause. Longer this time.

The sound of pills being shaken in his hand.

“It’s in your hands now.”

You remember sitting on the floor of your new apartment, the phone clutched in your hands, shaking so hard you thought you might drop it.

That was the breaking point.

You blocked him.

It was hard. Very hard.

What if he was serious?!

What if he did it and it was your fault?!

But it didn’t stop the nightmares.

It’s been a month since the breakup, and you haven’t left your apartment in days.

The dishes are piled up in the sink. Your laundry is overflowing.

You haven’t brushed your hair in three days.

The weight of it all feels suffocating.

You thought leaving him would make you feel free.

Instead, you feel empty.

When your phone buzzes again, you ignore it.

It’s probably Ji-hye.

She’s been trying to get you to go out for weeks.

“You need to live a little,” she said last time you saw her.

But you don’t feel like living.

Still, when your phone buzzes again, you pick it up.

Ji-hye ★ˎˊ˗ (9:17 PM): Come out with us tonight. Please?

Ji-hye ★ˎˊ˗ (9:18 PM): There’s a new club opening in Itaewon. It’ll be fun.

Ji-hye ★ˎˊ˗ (9:19 PM): I’m not taking no for an answer.

You stare at the messages for a long time.

The thought of going to a club makes your stomach turn.

You haven’t been out in two years.

You haven’t been you in two years.

But the apartment feels too small.

Too quiet.

Too empty.

Fuck it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shower burns your skin.

You scrub until you feel raw, as if you can wash away the last two years.

But no amount of scrubbing erases the bruises —

The ones he left on your heart.

When you step out, you wipe the fogged mirror and stare at your reflection.

Your hair is a tangled mess.

Your eyes are rimmed with dark circles.

You look like someone who’s been barely holding it together.

This isn’t who I am, you tell yourself.

You plug in your hair straightener. You do your makeup.

By the time you’re done, you almost feel like yourself again.

You rifle through your closet, pulling out a black dress you haven’t worn in years. It still fits — snug and short, hugging your body in a way that feels foreign after months of oversized hoodies and leggings.

When you step into your heels, you wobble for a second.

It’s been so long since you’ve worn anything but sneakers.

But when you look in the mirror again —

You see her.

The girl you used to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ji-hye and her friends are already tipsy when you meet them outside the club.

She squeals when she sees you.

“Look at you! You look amazing!”

You try to smile, but it feels forced.

The club is packed.

Neon lights pulse to the beat of the music.

Bodies move together on the dance floor.

Ji-hye hands you a shot as soon as you walk in.

“Drink up!”

You down it quickly, the burn making you wince.

“Another?”

Why not?

By the time you lose count, you’ve had at least six shots.

Maybe more.

You stopped counting after the first round of tequila.

The room spins slightly, but you feel good.

Better than you’ve felt in weeks.

You laugh with Ji-hye.

You dance with strangers.

For the first time in a long time, you feel free.

And then you see him.

At first, you think your eyes are playing tricks on you.

But when you blink, he’s still there.

Su-bong.

He’s standing near the bar, his eyes locked on you.

His hair is messy, his shirt unbuttoned at the top.

He looks the same as he always does —

Rough around the edges, disheveled in that careless way that made you fall for him in the first place.

But there’s something in his eyes —

Something dark.

Your stomach twists.

The room feels too hot.

You grab Ji-hye’s arm.

“Ji-hye. Is he…?”

Her eyes widen.

“Oh shit.”

“What the fuck is he doing here?”

She bites her lip, looking guilty.

“I didn’t know. I swear. But he’s friends with Seung-ho.”

She nods toward one of the guys in their group — a guy you don’t know well.

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Your heart pounds in your chest, a wild, frantic beat.

You down another shot, your hands shaking slightly.

Maybe if you ignore him, he’ll go away.

But he doesn’t.

When you look up again, he’s moving toward you.

You see him before he speaks.

The way he weaves through the crowd, his gaze locked on you like he’s on a mission.

You look away.

You try to pretend you didn’t see him.

But it’s too late.

He’s right there.

“Hey.”

His voice cuts through the noise, low and rough.

You don’t turn around.

You keep your eyes on your drink, your knuckles white as you grip the glass.

“I didn’t know you came here.”

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

Your whole body goes stiff.

“Fuck off, Su-bong.”

Your voice is steady, but your heart is pounding.

He doesn’t move.

Instead, he slides into the seat next to you.

Like he belongs there.

Like nothing happened.

“Come on,” he says, his tone light, almost teasing. “You’re really not even going to say hi?”

You turn to him, your eyes flashing.

“Why would I?”

He shrugs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Because you missed me.”

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it.

“Missed you?”

You set your drink down, leaning closer.

“You left me voicemails threatening to fucking kill yourself. Do you know how fucked up that is?”

His expression doesn’t change.

He doesn’t flinch.

Instead, he tilts his head, studying you.

“Did it scare you?”

Your blood runs cold.

“What?”

“Did it scare you?” he repeats, his voice soft.

“Did you think I was going to do it?”

You stare at him, horrified.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

His lips twitch into something that might be a smile — but there’s no warmth in it.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” he says, his tone almost casual.

“And you wouldn’t answer. You wouldn’t talk to me.”

“So you thought threatening to kill yourself was the way to get my attention?”

Your voice is shaking now, anger and fear mixing in your chest.

He doesn’t answer.

Instead, he reaches for your hand.

And you’re too stunned to pull away.

“I missed you,” he says softly.

“I don’t know what to do without you.”

You rip your hand away, standing up so fast your chair scrapes against the floor.

“Don’t fucking do that.”

Your voice is loud now, cutting through the music.

“Don’t pretend you’re some fucking victim.”

His expression hardens.

“I’m not pretending.”

“You are.”

You step closer, your chest heaving.

“You always do this. You always make it about you. Like your fucking pain is the only thing that matters.”

He stands up slowly, towering over you.

“I’m in pain because of you.”

You scoff, shaking your head.

“That’s bullshit.”

“Don’t lie to yourself.”

His voice is low now. Dangerous.

“You love me.”

Your hands tremble at your sides.

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

He steps closer.

“I know you do. You wouldn’t be this angry if you didn’t.”

You hate how he gets in your head.

How he twists your words.

“I don’t love you,” you say again, but it sounds weaker this time.

He leans in, his breath brushing against your cheek.

“Then why haven’t you moved on?”

The question hits you like a punch to the gut.

And you don’t have an answer.

“Let’s go outside,” he says.

His voice is softer now, coaxing.

“It’s too loud in here.”

You hesitate.

“Please.”

He reaches for your hand again, and this time, you don’t pull away.

“Just talk to me.”

Your heart is pounding.

Your mind is spinning.

And against your better judgment —

You follow him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The alleyway outside the club smells like cigarette smoke and spilled beer.

You cross your arms over your chest, shivering slightly. The night air feels too cold against your skin, cutting through the warmth of the alcohol.

Su-bong lights a cigarette, his hands shaking slightly as he brings it to his lips.

For a moment, neither of you speak.

Then —

“What do you want from me?”

Your voice cuts through the quiet, sharp and strained.

He exhales a cloud of smoke, his gaze steady on you.

“I just want you.”

You laugh, bitter and harsh.

“Do you even hear yourself? You had me, Su-bong. You had me for two fucking years, and you—”

Your voice cracks.

“You fucking broke me.”

His jaw tightens.

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

“But you did.”

Your chest heaves, your breath fogging in the cold air.

“Over and over again.”

“I know.”

He takes a step closer.

“And I’m sorry.”

It’s the softness in his voice that undoes you.

That fucking softness.

Because for a split second —

You almost believe him.

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

His words hang in the air between you, soft and deliberate, like he’s trying to carve them into your skin. And you hate how much they make your chest ache.

You hate that it’s him standing here, saying these things. Again.

“You say that like it fucking matters.” Your voice comes out steadier than you feel. “Like it changes anything.”

He exhales smoke, eyes never leaving yours. “It does matter.”

“No, it doesn’t.” You shake your head, your arms tightening around yourself like it’s the only thing holding you together. “You’ve hurt me too many times for it to matter.”

A pause.

A flicker of something in his eyes.

And then, softly —

“I couldn’t stop.”

The words hit you harder than you want them to.

Your chest tightens, your mind flashing back to the nights he stumbled through the door, high and out of it, mumbling half-assed apologies through the haze.

“I don’t know how to stop,” he continues, his voice quiet. “Not without you.”

You close your eyes, willing the tears to stay put.

“You can’t keep doing this,” you whisper. “You can’t keep blaming me for your fucking choices.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what the fuck is this?” You gesture between the two of you, your voice rising. “What do you think you’re doing right now?”

“I’m trying to fix it.”

Your laugh is sharp, bitter. “Fix it? You can’t fix this, Su-bong. You can’t.”

He flinches at the way your voice cracks.

But he doesn’t back down.

“I can try.”

You shake your head, the weight of it all pressing down on you. The months of pain, the sleepless nights, the voicemail that still echoes in your mind.

“You’re fucking selfish.”

His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t deny it.

“You don’t love me,” you say, and it feels like you’re ripping your own heart out. “You love what I do for you. You love having someone to pick up the pieces when you fall apart. Someone to save you.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Your chest heaves. “You only ever show up when you’re desperate. When you need something. And I’m fucking done being that person for you.”

He takes a step closer, the cigarette forgotten between his fingers, burning down to the filter.

“I don’t want anyone else.”

You hate the way your heart twists.

“I want you.”

You shake your head again, but it’s weaker this time.

“I love you.”

And there it is.

Those three fucking words.

The words that used to make your heart explode. The words that used to make you believe in him, in a future that never existed.

“I can’t do this without you,” he says, and his voice breaks, just a little. “I’ve tried, Y/N. I’ve tried to be better, but I’m fucking lost without you.”

Your hands tremble at your sides.

“You’re only lost because you never tried to find yourself,” you whisper. “You’ve always expected me to do it for you.”

His eyes soften, that familiar vulnerability creeping in.

“I’m trying now.”

“No, you’re not.” You take a step back. “You’re trying to pull me back in. That’s all you ever do.”

A beat of silence.

Then —

“I miss you.”

The words cut through the night, soft and raw.

And you feel yourself wavering.

Fuck.

You press your palms to your face, trying to breathe, trying to steady yourself.

“You don’t get it,” you whisper. “You don’t get what you did to me.”

He takes another step closer, so close now that you can feel the heat of his body.

“I never stopped loving you.”

Your chest heaves, your heart pounding.

“I don’t want to hear that.”

“You need to.”

“No, I fucking don’t.” Your voice cracks, tears burning at the edges of your eyes. “What I need is to move on.”

His hand reaches out, tentative, trembling.

But when his fingers brush against your arm-

You flinch.

It’s instinctive.

A reaction you couldn’t stop if you tried.

And the look on his face?

It’s devastating.

He pulls his hand back slowly, like he’s been burned.

“I’m not him anymore.”

The words are quiet, almost desperate.

“I’m not the guy who fucked up. I’m not the guy who hurt you.”

“You are.” Your voice is soft, but firm. “You’ll always be that guy, Su-bong.”

His gaze drops to the ground, and for a moment, you think he’s going to give up.

But then he looks up again.

“I just want to talk,” he says. “Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

You hesitate.

The rational part of you — the part that’s spent the last month piecing yourself back together — is screaming at you to walk away.

But your heart?

Your heart is still caught in the web he’s spun around you.

“ we’re already talking…” you slightly slur your words, the alcohol taking full effect.

“Five minutes,” he says again, softer this time. “At my place. Please.”

And against your better judgment —

You nod.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake to the sensation of weight.

Heavy. Suffocating.

An arm draped over your waist. A body pressed too close, warm breath against the back of your neck.

And for one blissful second, you’re still half asleep. Still caught in that hazy space between dreams and reality, your mind fogged over with sleep, soft and pliant.

But then your eyes open.

And everything sharpens.

The bedroom is dark — curtains drawn, faint slivers of morning light sneaking through the cracks. The air is stale, tinged with cigarette smoke and something faintly metallic. It smells familiar.

And the weight around your waist?

It’s Su-bong.

Your stomach lurches.

No. No, no, no.

You squeeze your eyes shut, your heart pounding in your chest, the dull ache between your temples throbbing harder with each beat. Your mind scrambles to piece together how the fuck you ended up here. The last thing you remember clearly is the club — Ji-hye pulling you onto the dance floor, shots of tequila burning your throat, the neon lights swirling around you.

And then —

His voice.

His hands.

And now you’re here. In his bed.

You hold your breath, every muscle in your body going rigid. His arm is still heavy across your waist, his hand curled loosely against your hip, fingers twitching like he’s dreaming.

Carefully — so carefully — you think maybe you can slip out from under him.

Carefully, you reach for his wrist, your fingers trembling as you try to lift his arm off you. The sheet rustles softly, the sound too loud in the suffocating silence. You freeze, your breath hitching.

He stirs.

A small, unconscious noise slips from his throat, his fingers curling slightly against your hip.

Your heart slams against your ribs.

Please don’t wake up.

You stay frozen, your body stiff, your breath shallow. His arm feels impossibly heavy against your waist, like it’s anchoring you to the mattress. Slowly — so slowly — you ease it off you, inch by inch, until it finally falls to the bed.

He murmurs something in his sleep, low and unintelligible.

You freeze again, your pulse roaring in your ears.

He doesn’t wake.

You let out a shaky breath, the sound barely audible, and sit up as quietly as you can. The room tilts slightly as you do, your head pounding with a dull, persistent ache. You press a hand to your temple, blinking against the dizziness.

The sheets are tangled around your legs, the fabric twisted and damp with sweat. You untangle yourself carefully, your fingers trembling, your movements slow and deliberate.

His body shifts slightly behind you, his breathing deepening for a moment before settling back into a steady rhythm.

Move.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, the floor cold against your bare feet. The hem of your dress rides up as you stand, the fabric wrinkled and twisted, clinging to your skin.

You glance back at him, your chest tight.

He’s still asleep.

But his face is turned toward you now, his hair falling into his eyes, his lips parted slightly. He looks softer like this, his usual sharp edges dulled by sleep.

It makes your stomach turn.

Focus.

You force your gaze away, scanning the room for your things.

Your phone.

Your purse.

Where the fuck are they?

The panic sets in slowly, creeping up your spine like cold water, inch by inch. You scan the room, searching for your things, but the room looks almost exactly the same as when you left a month ago.

Cluttered. Messy. The ashtray on the nightstand is overflowing. Empty bottles litter the floor. The same crumpled blankets. The same cigarette burns in the carpet.

Like time stood still.

Like he hasn’t moved on.

Your stomach twists painfully, nausea creeping in at the edges. You stand, your legs unsteady, your head pounding. The ache in your body — between your thighs, in the muscles of your legs — is impossible to ignore.

You take a step toward the bathroom, your hands trembling as you reach for the door handle. You need a moment to breathe. To think.

To figure out what the fuck happened.

The bathroom is as grim as you remember. The light flickers when you turn it on, casting everything in a sickly yellow glow. The mirror is streaked with water stains, the sink cluttered with half-used toiletries.

You close the door behind you, locking it with a shaky hand.

And then you catch your reflection.

Your lipstick is barely there anymore, smudged at the edges. Your mascara streaked under your eyes. Your hair is a tangled mess, the carefully straightened strands now knotted and frizzy.

But it’s the rest of you that makes your breath catch.

The dress you wore last night is twisted around your waist, the hem wrinkled and pulled too high. Your thighs are bare. You pull at the fabric, tugging it down, but your hands freeze when you see the faint bruises.

Finger-shaped bruises.

They’re light, barely there, but you know what they are.

Your stomach drops.

You lift the hem of your dress higher, revealing more bruises along your inner thighs. Some small, faint smudges of blue and purple. Some darker.

You press your fingers to them, your skin flinching under your own touch.

Did I fall?

Did I—

Your mind races, scrambling for an explanation, for anything that makes sense.

And then your eyes flicker lower.

Your underwear is backward.

You stare for a long moment, your brain struggling to catch up with what you’re seeing. The waistband digs awkwardly into your hips, the tag twisted around to the front.

You blink.

Once.

Twice.

Your stomach churns violently.

You lift the toilet lid, falling to your knees as you retch. There’s nothing in your stomach but bile, burning its way up your throat.

When you’re done, you sit back on your heels, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. The bathroom spins around you, your head pounding, your chest heaving with shallow breaths.

You reach for the sink, pulling yourself up slowly, your hands gripping the edge so tightly your knuckles turn white.

Your eyes flicker back to your reflection.

The bruises.

The backward underwear.

The ache between your legs.

Did we—

No.

No, no, no.

You grip the sink harder, your nails digging into the porcelain.

‘I don’t remember.’

That’s the worst part.

You don’t remember anything.

You remember seeing him at the club. You remember yelling at him, calling him out for the voicemail. You remember him pulling you outside, the alley reeking of cigarette smoke and beer.

And then it’s all a blur.

Flashes of his voice. His hand on your arm. The way he looked at you — dark, desperate.

But nothing else.

Your chest tightens painfully.

You want to leave.

You need to leave.

You unlock the bathroom door with shaking hands, your heart pounding in your chest as you step back into the bedroom.

But when you step inside —

He’s awake.

Su-bong is sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his fingers tangled in his hair. He looks up when he hears you, his gaze locking on yours.

And the first thing you notice?

He’s sober.

There’s no haze in his eyes. No slurred speech. No unsteady hands.

He’s completely sober.

Your stomach twists painfully.

“Morning.”

His voice is soft, tentative.

Like he’s testing the waters.

You don’t say anything.

You take a step toward the nightstand, searching for your phone. Your purse. Anything.

But he stands up slowly, blocking your path.

“Hey.”

His voice is softer now, coaxing.

“You don’t have to run.”

Your hands tremble at your sides.

“I don’t remember anything,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “I don’t—”

“I know.” His eyes soften, his brows pulling together in that familiar expression of concern. “You were really drunk.”

Your heart sinks.

“What happened?”

He exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. “You saw me at the club. You… you wanted to come back here.”

You shake your head, your stomach churning.

“I don’t remember that.”

You must’ve been really drunk because from what you remember you weren’t exactly happy too see him. How did you go from fighting with him to begging to be back at his apartment?

“You were drunk,” he says again, like it’s the answer to everything. “It’s okay. I took care of you.”

Your chest tightens painfully.

The bruises.

The backward underwear.

The ache.

“What do you mean, you took care of me?”

His gaze flickers away for a moment, his jaw tightening.

“You wanted to come back,” he says softly. “You told me you missed me. That you wanted to… you know. Talk. Figure things out.”

Your mind spins, scrambling to fill in the blanks.

“I don’t remember,” you whisper again, your voice shaking.

“I know.” He steps closer, his voice low, soothing. “It’s okay. I missed you too.”

He reaches for your hand, his fingers brushing yours.

You flinch.

But he doesn’t pull back.

“I missed you,” he says again, his voice softening. “I love you.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. They only hurt so bad because he was saying them now. After everything.

And for a moment —

You don’t know what to believe.

“You were wasted, Y/N.”

His words come soft, careful, like he’s tiptoeing around something fragile. His body language matches it — slouched shoulders, a furrowed brow, the faintest slump in his posture like he’s weighed down by concern.

Your stomach churns.

“I… I wasn’t that drunk.” The words feel hollow as they leave your mouth. A lie to yourself, as much as to him. You’d lost count at six shots. At least six. Maybe more.

His lips press into a thin line, a faint shake of his head following. “You could barely stand.”

Your hands curl into fists at your sides, knuckles trembling.

“I don’t remember…” You force the words out, hating how small they sound, how they let the power tip toward him.

He exhales slowly, running a hand down his face.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. You were crying. Saying you missed me. That you needed me.” He pauses, eyes meeting yours, steady and unwavering. “What was I supposed to do, huh? Just leave you there?”

The breath punches out of you. Crying? Saying you missed him? Needed him?

That couldn’t be true. That can’t be true.

But your mind betrays you. A flash of his hands steadying you on the dance floor. His voice coaxing you into the alley. The warmth of his hand brushing yours.

Pieces fall together, but the picture is fractured, missing the crucial moments. And that’s what he’s counting on.

“I don’t…” Your voice cracks, a fresh wave of panic rolling through you. “I wouldn’t—”

“You did,” he says firmly. Not loud, but firm enough that it cuts through your protest. “You were falling apart, Y/N. I couldn’t just—” He stops, dragging his hand through his hair like he’s trying to collect himself. “I had to help you.”

Help you.

The bruises on your thighs burn like a brand.

“By bringing me here?” you snap, your voice rising. “By—by—” You stop yourself before the question comes tumbling out: Did you touch me?

His face hardens just slightly, enough to send a shiver skittering down your spine. “I wasn’t going to let you go home alone. Not like that. You don’t even know what could’ve happened.”

“What do you mean what could’ve happened?” Your voice cracks, pitching higher, panic seeping in. “What did happen?”

He holds your gaze, and for a moment, his expression softens again. “Nothing happened.”

The words should feel like a relief. They don’t.

“Nothing?” Your voice is small, but there’s a sharp edge to it.

“Nothing,” he repeats, stepping closer. Too close. “You needed me, Y/N. And I was there for you. Like I always have been.”

Always.

Your mind spirals, reaching for anything concrete, any moment from last night that you can grab onto. But it’s all a haze, smothered by the tequila and the smoke and him.

“I don’t…” You press a hand to your temple, the ache blooming there sharp and relentless. “I don’t remember asking to come back here.”

His hand reaches out, brushing against your arm, and you flinch without meaning to.

His eyes darken at that. “You’re scared of me now?”

You want to say yes. But the word lodges itself in your throat, too big to swallow, too dangerous to spit out.

“I’m not scared of you,” you lie.

“Then why are you acting like this?” His voice is soft, low, almost tender. “I didn’t do anything wrong, Y/N. I just—” He stops, his jaw clenching. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. And now you’re looking at me like I’m a fucking monster.”

He steps closer. You step back. The space between you feels like it’s shrinking, suffocating.

“Why am I here, Su-bong?” Your voice is stronger now, the edge of panic sharpening it. “Why the fuck was I in your bed?”

He tilts his head slightly, his brows knitting together like you’ve just said something unreasonable. “You wanted to be here.”

“No.” You shake your head, your chest tightening. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t—” Your voice cracks, the words tangling in your throat. “I don’t even remember coming back with you.”

His expression doesn’t shift. “You were drunk,” he says simply. “You don’t have to make this a big deal.”

You laugh — bitter, sharp. “Not a big deal?” The words tumble out before you can stop them. “Not a big fucking deal? I don’t even know what happened, Su-bong. I don’t—” Your breath hitches, your stomach twisting violently. The next words catch in your throat, almost too heavy to force out. “Did we—”

You can’t say it. You can barely think it.

“Did we have sex?”

He doesn’t react right away. Not outwardly. But you catch it — the faint flicker of tension in his jaw, the way his gaze shifts to the side before finding yours again.

“Why would you ask me that?” His voice is steady, but there’s something too measured about it, like he’s rehearsed this answer in his head a thousand times.

“Because I don’t fucking know,” you snap, your hands trembling. They curl into fists at your sides, shaking with every ragged breath. “My underwear’s on backwards, Su-bong. I have bruises. And you’re acting—” You stop yourself, your throat tightening painfully. “You’re acting like you did something.”

His jaw tightens again, and this time his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. He exhales slowly, dragging his hand through his hair.

“I didn’t do anything you didn’t want,” he says finally, his tone low but clipped.

It’s not an answer.

It’s not a fucking answer.

“What does that mean?” Your voice rises, panic flaring again. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means you wanted to come back with me,” he says, sharper now, a flash of frustration cutting through the veneer of calm. “You were all over me at the club, Y/N. I told you we shouldn’t—” He cuts himself off abruptly, his fingers raking through his hair again, the strands spiking in every direction. “But you wouldn’t let it go.”

Your stomach twists painfully, the nausea creeping back in full force.

“I wouldn’t let it go?” Your voice cracks, disbelief bleeding into every syllable. “You’re blaming me? You’re saying I—”

“I’m not blaming you.” He exhales sharply, his voice softening just slightly, like he’s trying to rein himself back in. “I’m saying you wanted this. You made that clear.”

“I don’t even remember!” Your voice breaks now, raw and jagged, splintering through the room. “How can I want something I can’t fucking remember?”

He steps closer, and this time you’re too stunned, too frozen, to move.

“Y/N.” His voice drops lower, almost pleading, his hand twitching at his side like he wants to reach for you. “You were drunk, yeah. But you weren’t—” He hesitates, his gaze flickering over your face. “You weren’t out of it. You knew what you were doing.”

The words settle over you like a lead weight, pressing down on your chest until it feels impossible to breathe. Your mind scrambles to piece together the night before, to fill in the blanks, but it’s all fog. Hazy flashes of neon lights and pounding music and his hand on your arm.

“I don’t—” Your voice falters, cracking under the weight in your chest. “I don’t know what to believe.”

His expression softens slightly, his shoulders lowering as he steps closer again, closing the gap between you.

“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” he says, his voice coaxing, soothing. He reaches for your hand, brushing his fingers against yours.

You flinch.

The motion is small, instinctive. But he catches it, his gaze darkening for a fraction of a second before he carefully, deliberately pulls his hand back.

“I don’t know what else to say to you,” he murmurs, his tone taking on a faint edge of frustration again. “I tried to do the right thing, Y/N. I could’ve left you at the club. I could’ve let you go home alone. But I didn’t.”

He looks at you, his eyes steady and unwavering, and you hate how much they make your stomach twist.

“I stayed.” He takes another step forward, close enough now that you can smell the faint trace of his cologne, mingling with the smoke and stale alcohol lingering in the room. “Because you needed me.”

You press your back against the wall, your hands gripping the hem of your dress so tightly it crumples in your fists.

“I don’t remember needing you,” you say, your voice small but sharp, each word cutting through the thick tension in the room.

His gaze drops to the floor for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. When he looks up again, there’s something different in his eyes. Something dark.

“Then maybe you should ask yourself why you’re here.”

The question hits like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from your lungs.

You don’t answer. You can’t.

And in the silence that follows, he steps back, his expression shifting to something softer, more familiar.

“I missed you,” he says, his voice low, almost tender. “And I know you missed me too.”

“Just… stay.”

The word hangs in the air between you, heavy and suffocating.

Stay.

You want to run. You want to grab your things and get out of this apartment, out of this nightmare, and never look back. But your legs won’t move. Your feet feel glued to the floor, weighed down by doubt and fear and something else—something softer, something that aches when he looks at you like this.

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” you whisper.

His jaw tightens, his hands curling into fists at his sides. But when he speaks, his voice is soft. Vulnerable.

“I know.” His gaze drops to the floor for a moment, then back to you. “I don’t blame you for feeling that way. But I’m not the guy I was before, Y/N. I’m trying. I’m trying to be better.”

You hate how much those words hurt. How much you want to believe them.

“You shouldn’t have brought me here,” you say, your voice trembling. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“You did,” he says firmly. “Maybe you don’t remember, but you did.”

The words cut through you like a blade, sharp and cold. You don’t believe him. You don’t want to believe him.

But the tequila haze clouds everything, blurring the edges of the truth.

“Just give me a chance,” he says, stepping closer again. “Let me prove it to you. Let me—” He stops himself, his voice catching. “Let me fix this.”

Your throat tightens, the weight of his words pressing down on you, crushing.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whisper.

He reaches for your hand again, and this time, you don’t pull away. His fingers are warm, steady, wrapping around yours like they belong there. Like they always have.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he says again. His voice is so soft, so careful. “Just stay. Please.”

Your chest heaves, your breath shallow and uneven.

And then—

Your phone buzzes.

The sound cuts through the tension like a knife, sharp and jarring. You jerk your hand away from his, your heart leaping into your throat as you spin toward the nightstand.

Your phone is lying there, screen glowing faintly in the dim light. Ji-hye’s name flashes across the screen.

Your stomach twists violently.

Su-bong doesn’t move. He stands frozen in place, his gaze fixed on you. You don’t look at him. You don’t want to see whatever’s written on his face.

You grab the phone, your fingers trembling as you swipe to open the message.

Ji-hye ★ˎˊ˗(9:04 AM): You good? Please tell me you didn’t go home with him.

Your breath catches, your chest tightening painfully.

“Who is it?” Su-bong’s voice cuts through the silence, low and steady, but there’s an edge to it now.

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Instead, you take a shaky step back, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality.

“Y/N.” His voice is softer now, coaxing, but there’s a sharpness beneath it, something dark and unyielding. “Who was it?”

“Ji-hye.” The name barely makes it out of your mouth, your voice cracking on the second syllable.

He hums, low and quiet. “What did she say?”

You glance down at the screen again, the words burning into your retinas. You good? Please tell me you didn’t go home with him.

You don’t know what to say.

What can you say?

“Y/N,” he says again, stepping closer. His voice drops lower, quieter, like he’s trying to keep you from bolting. “Talk to me.”

Your chest heaves, your breath coming faster now. “I need to go.”

The words feel weak, hollow, and you hate how they tremble as they leave your lips.

“Go where?” His question is quiet, but there’s a weight to it that makes your stomach turn.

“Away from here.”

The second the words are out, his expression shifts. The softness in his gaze hardens, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“If you walk out that door…” He trails off, his voice cutting off like he’s biting down on the rest of the sentence.

Your heart races, panic rising in your chest. “What?”

His jaw clenches, the muscles in his neck tightening. “If you walk out that door, you’ll never see me again.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from your lungs.

There’s a finality to them, an edge that cuts too deep. You don’t know what he means — if he’s talking about leaving your life or leaving altogether — but it doesn’t matter.

It scares you.

And he knows it.

His gaze stays locked on yours, unflinching, unwavering. “I’m serious, Y/N.”

Your phone buzzes again in your hand, the sound startling you. You glance down at the screen.

Ji-hye ★ˎˊ˗(9:06 AM): If you’re with him, just leave. I’ll come get you.

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you.

Su-bong takes another step closer. “You don’t have to leave.” His voice drops lower, almost a whisper. “We can talk. We can figure this out. But if you walk away now…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but he doesn’t have to. The threat lingers in the air between you, heavy and suffocating.

Your fingers tighten around your phone, Ji-hye’s message flashing like a lifeline in your palm.

“Y/N.” His voice is softer now, pleading. “Stay.”

You look up at him, your chest heaving, your mind spinning.

And in that moment, you don’t know what scares you more; the thought of staying, or the thought of leaving.

730 notes · View notes

airenyah · 6 months ago

Text

good news: i'm already on the mpreg scene

bad news: it's already 12:30am and i still have the whole confession scene before me

y'all, i'm less than a minute into the ep4 kitchen scene and i already wrote 700 words about it. if this trend continues i'm for sure not making this meta before ep5 drops rip

#also the kitchen scene ended up 2k words holy fuck #i didn't think i was gonna have THAT much to say about it lmao #thk #airenyah plappert #not sure i'll be able to finish the meta by the time i go to bed but at least i'm making good progress #and if i don't manage to get this out BEFORE ep5 then at least i won't be super behind this time around #like my ep3 meta took me so fucking long to write and edit that i ended up having only just over a day for the ep4 meta before ep5 drops #and this time i should be much quicker with the writing process so that should leave me more days for my ep5 meta hopefully #and hopefully i won't struggle with ep5 as much as i did with ep3 #ahhhh well we'll see tomorrow #I'M HELLA STOKED BC TOMORROW WE'LL GET A SCENE THAT'S BEEN MY ROMAN EMPIRE SINCE THE TRAILER DROPPED #AND EVEN MORE SO SINCE THAT TIME DUNK MENTIONED THAT HE LIKES THAT SCENE TOO #HIM TEASING THAT SCENE HAS MADE ME EVEN MORE INSANE ABOUT IT #fuck.

12 notes · View notes

freeabortionslol · 6 months ago

Text

cozy pinterest time (a lake house series fic)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

parings: luke hughes x reader, quinn hughes x reader, jack mentioned summary: fluff! reader and luke get bundled up during the christmas lake house trip to scroll through pinterest warnings!! cursing a/n: FIRST LAKE HOUSE CHRISTMAS FIC AHHHH I have more to come!! this one dives into her dynamic with luke, along with jack and quinn wc: 3.9k lake house series masterlist

Luke’s room was shoved in between yours and Jack’s. Jack got the bigger bedroom, of course, considering he shared ownership of the lake house with Quinn. Quinn’s master bedroom sat downstairs by the kitchen, something almost everyone in the house was jealous of. Trevor and Cole had a room tucked in the back of the house, one that was big enough for the both of them to share after the bedroom fiasco of last summer. Quinn was upset that his office would be turned into another bedroom, but when he remembered the tired look in your eyes after sharing a room with Trevor and Cole, he was quick to give it up. Upstairs, you and Luke’s rooms connected with a bathroom in between. Luke knew the rules- he knew to knock loudly before entering, and he knew not to enter between the hours of 9pm and 9:20pm because that’s when you’d shower. You were a good person to share a wall with. You weren’t loud, you didn’t snore, and you definitely didn’t fuck, loudly almost every night. Unfortunately, Luke also shared a wall with Jack and he did all of those things. Luke was curled up in his bed, hoodie over his head as he scrolled through instagram. He really tried to drown out the sound of Jack with his new puck bunny in his room, but it was impossible. He scoffed, stepping out of his bed quickly. It wasn’t too late, about 11pm. No one was asleep quite yet, but the day was dying down. Luke knocked on the bathroom door and walked in when he didn’t get a response. He could see the soft light glowing from your door, hearing the faint sounds of christmas music. He knocked on your door twice before hearing a quiet. “Come in,” He opened the door, stepping into your room just a foot. He glanced at you curled up in your bed, sitting against the headboard. You had a Devil’s hoodie on, the hood over your head. You were surrounded by a plethora of soft blankets and fluffy pillows, laptop on your lap. The soft glow from both of your bedside lamps bathed the entire room in cozy, warm light as quiet christmas music streamed from your speaker.

“Hey,” You said, glancing up from your laptop at Luke. He had his arms crossed, his curls poking out from underneath his hood. “What’s up?”

Luke sighed, looking down at the floor before looking back up at you. “Jack and whatever that girl’s name is are fucking.” Your brows furrowed as you listened. “Like really loudly.” He said with an annoyed tone, slightly swaying his body side to side.

You pouted your lip, trying your best not to cringe as hard as you wanted to. “Aw, poor baby.” You said gently. “No one should have to hear that. Do you want to hang out with me?” Luke’s eyes lit up in an instant. He quickly got in your bed, making himself comfortable under the covers next to you. You smiled gently as he leaned back against the headboard.

“It’s so cold in this house.” He said before shivering slightly.

You let out a gentle laugh, glancing over at him. “I know, that’s why I have so many blankets.” You pulled up another blanket, placing it over Luke’s lap. “Get comfy.” Luke took the blanket gladly, settling in further to your bed. You turned your attention back to your laptop, taking a sip of your water from the nightstand.

“Whatcha doin’?” Luke asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

“Cozy pinterest time.” You said like it was the most known thing in the world. Luke’s brows furrowed as he leaned his head on your shoulder, trying to get a better look at your laptop. He saw the page full of pictures of kitchens, bedrooms, room decor, and decorations as you scrolled through.

“What's-” He paused, taking a moment to clear his throat. “Cozy pinterest time?”

You let out a soft laugh, shifting your laptop an inch closer to him. “Every night when everything dies down, I get all cozy in my bed with christmas music and hot chocolate, and I scroll through pinterest.” Luke looked over to you whose eyes were locked on the screen, and then down at the laptop in front of him.

He smacked his lips, still trying to understand. “So, you just look at pictures?”

“Yes, and save them into boards.” Luke inched closer as you spoke, his head still rested on your shoulder. “This is my christmas board, then I have my lake house board, my beach house board, my NYC apartment board, and so many others.” You glanced down at him, his eyes still on the screen. “It's just like-...ideas for stuff.”

Luke nodded slowly, still looking slightly perplexed but intrigued. “So, like...you just imagine all these lives in all these places?” he asked, voice quieter now, as if trying not to disturb the cozy bubble you’d created.

You shrugged softly. “Yeah, kind of. It’s like...planning out a future that might never happen, or just enjoying the aesthetic of it. Sometimes I’ll see a pretty living room and think, ‘If I ever get my own house, maybe I’ll decorate it like that.’ Or I’ll see a rustic kitchen and think it would be perfect for a lake house meal, you know?” You scrolled a bit, pointing out a particularly warm-toned living room scene. “See this? Picture it. A fire crackling, big blankets everywhere, mugs of cocoa on the table, and everyone piled on the couches telling stories.” You paused, glancing down at Luke. “It’s kind of fun to think about.”

Luke let out a soft hum, his shoulders relaxing further as he pulled the blankets closer around him. He was quiet for a moment, processing. “I never really understood Pinterest,” he admitted, a hint of sheepishness creeping into his tone. “My ex-girlfriend was always on it. She once tried to show me her wedding board and it freaked me out.” He cringed a little, making you stifle a laugh.

You patted his arm reassuringly. “Wedding boards can be intense,” you agreed, eyes dancing with amusement. “But this is just about comfort and inspiration. No pressure.”

He looked back at the screen, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “This one’s nice,” he said, nodding at an image of a small cabin living room draped in fairy lights and evergreen garlands. “It’s like...if we had a smaller lake house, just for Christmas. Not so many people, not so much noise.” You tilted your head, catching the wistful note in his voice. Luke was younger, and sometimes you forgot he experienced this house and these family gatherings a bit differently. With all the commotion, Luke often floated in a middle space, old enough to understand the chaos, young enough to still crave the simpler comforts.

“Exactly,” you said softly. “It’s imagining all these little retreats where life’s simpler, quieter. Maybe no late-night hockey gear lying around, no weird hookups through the wall.” You scrunched your nose, making him chuckle quietly. “Hey, go get your laptop. We can pinterest at the same time.” Luke lifted his head, looking at you with a slight smile before racing to his room. He returned, laptop in hand, quickly making his way back to the bed. He sat next to you, both of you against the headboard. You helped when he got his laptop open, making him an account to save his ideas. The two of you fell into this cozy moment, the small christmas tree in the corner making his eyes sparkle a bit. Luke would lean over ever so often and say something like, “Wouldn’t this look good in my apartment?” or “This, but like in the foyer of the lake house.” You were happy to have a pinteresting buddy, and you were thankful that Luke was able to sit there for a long period of time and manage to stay quiet. The soft hum of christmas music played in the background, grounding you slightly as you tried not to think about Jack and his lady friend. You were managing your lake house board when you heard the door knock.

“Come in,” You said softly. The door opened gently, telling you that it wasn’t Jack, Cole, or Trevor. Quinn stood there, not having noticed Luke yet.

“Hey sun-” he started before glancing over at Luke. He let out a soft chuckle. “What are you guys doing?”

“Cozy pinterest time.” Luke said, his eyes not leaving his screen.

Quinn leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a small, bemused grin. “Cozy pinterest time, huh?” he repeated, his tone gentle and teasing all at once.

Luke scoffed quietly. “You wouldn’t get it.” He mumbled. Quinn let out another soft chuckle as he made his way to your side of the bed. He leaned his head down, his hand resting on the headboard as he looked at your screen.

“It’s uh…ideas for the lake house.” You said, whipping your head over to Quinn. He was staring at you, not your screen. It was a gentle surprise when you turned your head, seeing your faces were now only inches apart. Your cheeks flushed slightly at the sudden intimacy, trying to keep yourself content.

Quinn licked his lips, smiling softly. “Looks good,”

Your heart did a small flip at the closeness, the faint scent of Quinn’s cologne lingering in the small space between you. You managed a quiet smile, trying to focus back on the laptop. “It’s just a few designs,” you said softly, your voice carrying a note of self-consciousness. “Some decorations, maybe some new furniture for the living room next summer.” Quinn nodded his head, his lips pursing slightly. “Hey, Quinny. While you’re up, could you get us some hot chocolates please?” You said with a pleading tone.

Quinn’s brows furrowed as he stood up. “And, why would I do that?”

You and Luke looked at each other before turning back to Quinn with a pouty lip. “Because you love us.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your playful antics. He couldn’t help the small grin that tugged at his lips as he looked between you and Luke. “You two are dangerous when you team up, you know that?” You both just exchanged a knowing glance, completely synchronized in your effort to charm him.

“Please?” You added, your voice soft, almost like a challenge, as you leaned back against the headboard, batting your lashes dramatically.

Luke joined in, nudging your shoulder lightly with his. “You’re basically the king of hot chocolate, Quinn. Can’t let us down now.”

Quinn’s face softened as he sighed, clearly not immune to the collective force of your charm. He rolled his eyes but it was all in good humor. “Fine, I’ll get the hot chocolates. But only because I’m a good guy.”

“Thanks, Quinny!” you and Luke chorused in unison, both of you grinning wide, already feeling victorious.

“Don’t think this means I’m gonna start doing this every night,” Quinn warned, but his tone was warm. He gave you one last glance, the flicker of something unspoken passing between you two, before he headed toward the door.

“Of course not,” you called out with a playful tone, already turning your attention back to your cozy pinterest session.

Luke looked up at you, his face still relaxed from the quiet moment. “You’re good at getting people to do things for you,” he commented with a grin, his eyes gleaming with a mix of admiration and amusement.

“No, I'm good at getting Quinn to do things for me.” You said just before turning to face Luke, a small smile twitching at his lips. You squinted your eyes, nodding your head in deep thought. “And Cole, sometimes.”

Luke let out a soft laugh. “I need to know the secret.”

You smiled slightly, your eyes widening. “Uh, I think the secret is being a hot girl.”

“Yeah, don’t think I can achieve that one.” Luke said, shaking his head “Don’t love the idea of being constantly gawked over by Cole.”

You laughed softly, a pink tint spreading across your face. “It’s not bad, actually. It got nice after a little while,” You paused, licking your lips. “And, the little moments when Quinn does it, makes up for everything.”

Luke rolled his eyes playfully, crossing his arms. “Then there's the rare moments where it’s Jack.”

You scoffed, leaning back slightly. “Yeah, but then ten minutes later he’s got some random blonde in his bed and his baby brother comes to me for comfort.”

Luke chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah, that's Jack," he teased, his tone light but with a hint of understanding. "I don't get it. He’s got the attention, the girls, the whole thing. But then he comes running to you when it all falls apart."

You shrugged, trying to hide the slight bitterness in your tone. "Jack's Jack. He loves to make things complicated, even if it’s just his love life. But at least I know he’s always there when it gets messy. Even if it’s just because he messed things up again."

Luke’s expression softened a little, the teasing fading as he processed your words. "He’s lucky to have you, you know?" He said quietly, looking over at you with an unexpected sincerity.

You met his gaze, feeling a little caught off guard by the weight of his words. "I guess so," you said softly, trying to mask the emotions that stirred beneath the surface. "But sometimes it feels like I’m just the safety net, you know?"

Luke leaned back against the headboard, eyes fixed on you. “Well, I think you deserve more than being a backup. You deserve someone who doesn’t just come to you when everything else falls apart.” His voice was low but clear.

You let out a long sigh, looking up at the ceiling. “You know, Jack and I have never been…” You looked back at Luke, your eyes narrowed. “Romantic?” Luke nodded his head, genuinely interested in your words. “But, there’s always this weird tension. I-I don’t know,” You let out a soft laugh. “Sometimes it feels like I'm like- settling? In this friendship? Like, Jack acts like we're a couple pretty much, just without the-”

“Kisses, sex, ‘I love you’s?” Luke cut you off, finishing your sentence perfectly.

You let out a quiet laugh, looking back up at the ceiling. “Exactly. It’s so…weird. A-And it’s nice, you know? Until I realize that it’s not actually like that.”

Luke smacked his lips, his brows furrowing. “Do you…have feelings for Jack-”

“No!” You shouted, abruptly cutting him off. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.” You said with a soft smile. “No, I don’t. It’s just-...it’s nice for things to feel normal like that.”

“What?” Luke asked, leaning in closer. “Like domestic, In a way?”

You paused for a moment, chewing over your thoughts carefully. "Yeah, I guess. Like...we’ve been friends for so long that sometimes it feels like we’ve already crossed into that territory, without actually being in a relationship. It's comfortable, but it’s not real, you know?"

Luke nodded his head, relaxing his posture a bit. “Well, trust me, bunny. You’re a beautiful, smart, funny, young woman. You’re gonna find someone.”

You groaned, throwing your head back against the headboard. “Everyone’s so quick to say that, but it never happens.”

Luke chuckled slightly, glancing over at you. “It’s true! Some guy will come along someday and treat you like an absolute angel. I know it.”

You smiled, fighting back giggles as you looked over at him. “Yeah,” You said loudly, your giggles intensifying. “Because my future husband is just gonna walk right through the door-”

“Hot cocoas here!” Quinn exclaimed, kicking the door open. Your smile quickly faltered, looking over at Luke who was trying so hard not to laugh. Quinn walked over, a confused look on his face as Luke let his laughs escape.

He finally finished laughing, leaning in closer to mumble in your ear. “So, does that mean Quinn is-”

“Shut up, Luke!” You groaned, shoving him with your elbow.

Luke smirked, clearly enjoying the playful chaos, but he quickly adjusted his expression to something more innocent, though his eyes still twinkled with mischief. "Alright, alright, I’ll stop." He leaned back against the headboard, clearly satisfied with the reaction he’d gotten.

Quinn shrugged his shoulders before handing over the mugs. “I think I'm future husband material.”

Your cheeks flushed in an instant as your heart dropped to your stomach. “Y-You uh…you heard that?” You stammered out, taking the mug from his hands.

Quinn gave you a sly grin, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Oh, I heard everything," he said with a teasing lilt in his voice. "But hey, you’re not the only one with ideas about future husbands, right?"

You glanced nervously at Luke, who was now struggling to hold back another laugh, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "You guys are impossible," you muttered, trying to focus on the hot cocoa in your hands to distract from the heat rising to your face.

Luke smirked, leaning closer again, his voice barely above a whisper. “So, does that mean I’m off the list, or...?” He glanced at you with a teasing look, his eyes searching yours for any sign of a reaction.

You quickly shot him a look, trying to hide the embarrassment creeping up your neck. "I swear, if you two don’t stop-”

Quinn, still holding his mug, raised an eyebrow. "What? Just saying, I went all the way downstairs to make you a cup of hot chocolate. It's a quality husband trait."

You groaned, pressing your hand to your face in exaggerated frustration. "You both are ridiculous."

Luke, unable to keep his grin at bay, nudged you gently with his shoulder. “Hey, it’s not a bad idea. I think Quinn’s onto something. Future husband material, right here.”

“Luke, you are about to get booted from cozy pinterest time.” You said with a stern voice, pointing a finger at him.

Quinn chuckled softly, putting his hands up in innocence. “I’m gonna go back downstairs. You guys have fun doing…whatever the hell this is.” You rolled your eyes as Quinn left.

You sighed dramatically the second Quinn disappeared down the hall. As his footsteps faded into the quiet hum of the house, you fixed Luke with a pointed glare. “This is all your fault,” you teased, setting your hot chocolate down carefully on the nightstand.

Luke snorted, stretching his legs out under the blankets. “My fault? I believe you’re the one who said, ‘Because you love us,’” he replied, raising his pitch to mimic your voice. “You practically cornered him into the husband territory.”

You scoffed, trying not to let your fluster show. “I was going for hot chocolate, not a lifelong commitment,” you muttered, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. The mug of cocoa still steamed gently, the scent of chocolate and marshmallows lingering in the air. You shut your laptop, setting it down on the floor, which Luke mirrored.

“You’re so in love with him. It’s so obvious.” Luke murmured, shaking his head as he attempted to stifle a laugh.

Your face turned pink as you faced him. “Wh- you- I-...I-I’m not!” You stammered out. Luke mimicked your stuttered sentence with extreme exaggeration and you pressed your lips together, determined not to give Luke any more reasons to grin. “You’re being a child,” you said, voice low but steady. The warmth in your cheeks refused to subside, and you knew Luke could see it.

He shrugged, unabashed. “A truthful child,” he countered, leaning back into the headboard and tucking one arm under his head. “Come on, you’re not fooling me.”

You folded your arms, looking anywhere but at him. “Luke,” you began, keeping your tone calm, “I am not in love with Quinn. Can we just…not?”

Luke smirked, tilting his head. “Sure, we can not…as soon as you admit that you at least like him. Maybe a little.” His voice softened on the last part, not quite a taunt, more curious. He was your friend, after all, and he had a protective streak even when teasing. You let out a quiet sigh, fingers picking at the blanket’s edge. The truth was tangled. Quinn’s easy kindness, the way he always seemed to know when to show up with hot chocolate or a warm blanket, the subtle looks you’d share, it all made something fluttery settle in your stomach. But you weren’t about to open that up in front of Luke, not when he was enjoying this far too much.

“Let's just…watch a movie and forget about it.” You said, reaching for the remote on the nightstand. Luke stifled a laugh, shrugging his shoulders. Luke propped himself up against the headboard, stretching his legs under the blankets as you fiddled with the remote. The tension from a moment ago clung faintly in the air, but now you were determined to let it evaporate into the soft glow of the lamp and the hum of the heating vent. You scrolled through the streaming apps, your gaze fixed on the screen, resolutely avoiding Luke’s amused glance.

He kept quiet, respecting your wishes for a truce, though a small, knowing smile still played at the corners of his mouth. After a few beats of silence and aimless browsing through movie options, Luke gently cleared his throat. “Something lighthearted?” he suggested, his voice neutral, careful not to push your buttons again.

You paused, your thumb hovering over a title. “How about a rom-com or that animated holiday special they’ve got listed?”

Luke tilted his head to get a better look at the options. “The animated one might be nice,” he said, voice softening. “Something cozy and brainless. Exactly what we need.” You hummed in agreement, selecting the animated film. The screen faded to black before the gentle opening credits rolled in soft pastels. Settling back against the pillows, you tugged the blankets tighter around yourself. Luke leaned in just a bit, not crowding you, but close enough that you felt his presence. A comforting reminder that, despite the awkward teasing, he was still on your side. A soft melody drifted from the TV speakers, and the warm animation glowed on the screen. Winter landscapes, cheerful characters, no drama or complicated love triangles to navigate. Perfect. You let your shoulders ease down, exhaling quietly. The movie’s gentle storyline began unfolding, scenes painted in soft color and gentle humor. Neither of you bothered commenting much, it wasn’t necessary. The hush of the room, the quiet breath of the house settling into the night, and the simple warmth of being here, together, provided all the comfort you needed. About thirty minutes into the film you felt a weight fall onto your shoulder. You looked down to see Luke, eyes closed as he softly snored beside you. You managed a warm smile, shifting down so your head rested on top of his. With your head resting against his, you felt the subtle warmth radiating from him. His hair tickled your cheek, a reminder of the easy closeness you both shared. Despite the teasing and the earlier embarrassment, here you were, ending the night side by side, each other’s quiet anchor as the rest of the house slowly shut down for the evening. Outside, you could imagine the wind stirring the evergreens or the lake shifting under the ice. Inside, all felt calm. The entire house seemed to hold its breath, allowing you and Luke this brief pocket of stillness. You tucked the blanket more snugly around him, careful not to wake him. Whatever happened next, you were content with this moment. Just a whisper of blankets, gentle music, and Luke’s steady heartbeat close by, perfectly enough to end the night on a note of peaceful belonging.

#freeabortionslol #lake house groupchat #luke hughes #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader

564 notes · View notes