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demusewriter · 10 months

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Baked with Love

Summary: You once dreamed of having your bakery where everyone could use it as a safe refuge from reality, similar to the shop from your childhood. It seems to work as one of the famous boy groups uses it to hang out to temporarily escape the spotlight, especially by one member who seems to be fond of the place. Genre: Fluff Pairing: Idol! Jungwon x Baker Fem! Reader Word Count: 6.3k Warnings: Slow-burn (?); the reader is slightly oblivious; mutual-pinning (?); the introduction is too long, it took 1k words before Jungwon is introduced lol; the reader and Jungwon is both in their mid-20s Author's Note: This is my first time writing fanfic, so I apologize if the story does not fit to your liking. 😅 English is also not my first language, so forgive me for the wrong grammar and lack of vocabulary. 😔 I will try my best next time. ☺ Regardless, I'm hoping that you all will like this. Enjoy reading! ☺

Ever since you were a child, you've been wanting to own a bakeshop. You remember how you accidentally stumbled into this shop when you tried to hide from the kid who constantly bullies you. Your trembling body and the constant sob that came from your mouth magically disappeared when you saw a bunch of colorful pastries displayed on those shiny glass cabinets.

You recall how the sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies engulfs your small body with a sense of comfort, and the soft jazz music that plays in the background whispers in your ear, easing your fear.

"Why is such a pretty young lady having a sad look on her face?" `You look up to the source of the soft voice, and your eyes settle on the old lady on the counter with a warm, gentle smile on her face. You intertwine your little hands and shyly look down.

"I am hiding," you mumbled.

"Hiding?" You nodded. You heard a footstep coming near you, then a gentle hand rubbing your small back.

"Why don't you eat something while you hide?" You look up once again at the lady. You see how those wrinkles stretch with the soft smile she has on her face; that softness somehow brings security to you.

"Cookies?" you said in wonder. The lady let out a giggle when you spoke with sweetness, your eyes twinkling in the process. How can she turn down such a cute lady like you?

"Yes, cookies! And you can also have some of those sweets that we have!" You wipe your teary eyes, then hold the hand of the old lady and let her guide you to the rest of the shop with the widest smile on your face.

At that moment, the little Y/N always finds herself munching on sweet pastries in the old lady's bakeshop. The shop becomes your escape, which eases your worries about the bullies. In return, you try to assist the old lady with baking by simply putting flour on measuring cups, cracking eggs, and sometimes kneading the dough.

However, the shop that had grown to be your safe refuge was lost when the old lady died from sickness. Due to this, the bakery has to be taken down, as no one claims to continue the business. You remember crying for days because of the sudden loss of the person you adored and the shop that became your home.

That event brings blossoms to your dreams of having a similar cozy shop where people entering the place instantly light up their eyes when they are greeted by rows of pastries that you freshly bake with passion.

You looked up to the small shop where there were tables outside, each with a brown vintage-style umbrella with brilliant lighting inside. You smiled when you saw the big signage that left you sleepless for nights from thinking of a perfect name for the shop.

'Sweet Greets Bakery'

As you make your way through the transparent door, a blanket of the sweet smell of baked pastries engulfs your now-grown body bringing back your childhood memories of the old lady's bakeshop. You also smell the roasted coffee beans that saturate the air.

As you grow older, coffee becomes your best buddy every time you pull all-nighters, which becomes endless when you enter college. Drinking coffee also helps you relax your mind while reading your favorite book on weekends, which fuels your growing addiction.

Because of this, you consider offering various coffee and tea drinks that will perfectly match the pastries that you bake.

"Noona?" You looked at the counter and saw one of your employees with wide eyes. You chuckle at his reaction like he has seen a ghost.

"Hi!" You greeted as you joined him at the counter.

"You're back!" He joyfully exclaims and even claps in excitement. A door from the storage room burst open, slightly startling you. You saw two ladies emerge from the room with the same disbelief on their faces.

"Unnie!" You let out a giggle when they engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug. You wrap your arms around the two teenagers and return the gestures while swaying their bodies from side to side.

"We miss you!" Narae one of your employees pouted. You playfully flick the girl's head.

"I'm only gone for a week, 'Rae"

"Still" she mumbles while massaging her forehead. You only shook your head at her silliness and reached for the brown cap under the counter that was similarly worn by the three teens.

"How's Switzerland?" Chuwon asked while drying the mug using the table napkin designated for it.

"As usual, loaded with work." You sigh. Owning a bakery is your ultimate dream, and you did achieve it. However, the process of getting you where you are right now is a rough path. You apply for different jobs and dribble tons of tasks to save money for your dream shop, and up until now, you’re still doing it to keep your business running.

And it happens that one of the jobs for which you apply requires you to travel to different places. It gives you a lot of money, so you have no problem with it. Although it somehow makes you feel sad as it lessens your time to spend working on your bakery.

"Did you find yourself a potential Swiss boyfriend?" Seoyun asked while wiggling her eyes, helping you to divert your attention from stressful work. You pulled your tied hair on the hole at the back of the cap and slightly tugged the visor to adjust it in your head before sending the girl a playful glare.

"I have no time for that." A disappointed groan erupted from the three teenagers at your reply. You only chuckle and shake your head while continuing to put on your brown apron. Being the only full-grown adult working in the bakeshop with the civil status of single, your young employees can't help but wonder about your romantic life.

But your reply stands true; you have no time to get into a romantic relationship.

Nevertheless, it does not mean that you will turn it down once you meet someone who captures your heart. You, yourself are a hopeless romantic. The books in the romance genre displayed on the bookshelves at the right corner of your shop say it all.

And if it happens that your 'the one' walks someday in your mundane then, who are you to deny. Right?

The sound of a bell chimes in, indicating that someone has entered the shop. You immediately smile and greet the customers with enthusiasm.

"Hello, welcome to Sweet Greets Bakery!" You bowed along with your three employees. You saw the seven young men return the gestures and proceed to the counter while looking at the menu drink display at your back and the pastries on the glass displays. You keep your genuine smile on while waiting for their orders.

You can't help but observe that every single one of them has different fashion styles, which you can easily identify by whether they are into casual style, semi-formal, aesthetic, or just want to wear comfy clothes. They have different tastes, but it seems like they all get along as they are in tune with each other while discussing their orders.

The only similarity they have at this point is that all of them wore facemasks that covered half of their faces.

"Good morning! We would like to order a three-chocolate chip Frappuccino, two iced Americanos, one vanilla latte, and a mint chocolate drink." You nodded at the guy who wore a snapback and quickly punched their order on the monitor in front of you.

"Would you like to add some pastries to match your drinks?" You ask politely. All of them look once again at the glass cabinets where the pastries are displayed.

"Ah, we'll take slices of chocolate and strawberry cake. That's all." You smile and completely place their orders.

"That will be 71,432.91 won." The men look in unison at the guy whose fashion style gives you rich uncle vibes.

The man flinches and then lets out a disappointed sigh while reaching for his pocket. He gives you his black card, and you quickly slide it at the card reader. You heard them all chuckle at the poor man and slap his butt for comfort.

"You can find comfortable seats while we arrange your orders. Thank you!" You gleefully thank them as you give back the card accompanied by a receipt and a small round pager with your two hands.

"I bet they're idols" Narae whispers beside you as you grind some coffee beans. You saw her staring at those men on her tippy toes to get a better look.

"How'd you know?" You wonder. Although you grow up in a country where being an idol is everyone else's dream and exposes people to that kind of industry at an early young age, you seem clueless about it. Guess your mind is so focused on building a bakery that you missed that part as you grew up.

And it seems that you're right when Narae looks at you like you just grew two heads.

"Unnie, look!" She simply gestures at the men who found themselves sitting in a secluded corner, quietly observing the interior of your humble shop.

"They are obviously wearing masks to avoid the crazy media" she pointed out.

"They're seated at the back of the shop, so fans won't notice them." Seoyun chimed in beside you.

"And they chose this small, unfamiliar bakeshop so no one would find their location" Chuwon added. The three squeeze themselves beside you, looking at the men while hiding behind a huge espresso machine.

"They're indeed idols" all of them whisper at you in unison. You shook your head at their silliness and poked their sides, which earned you squeals and giggles.

"Okay, okay. If they are idols, then we need to stop staring and leave them alone." You scold, to which you only receive a playful stick of their tongue before they proceed to help you with the orders.

While filling the cups with ice cubes, you can't help but glance at those men. Chuwon is right; your bakery is still unfamiliar since it is new and has only been running for five months. Although there aren't a lot of customers, you remain optimistic as your business has only just started.

If ever those young men are indeed idols, then you're glad they found your bakery a safe place to hang out, even just for a minute. That's been the main purpose of your shop: to become a safe refuge for everyone, even an idol. With those thoughts in mind, it made you smile throughout the day.

Weeks passed, those young men kept coming back to your bakeshop, to the point that you already memorized their regular orders. Due to this, your three employees become busy browsing the internet to find out which group these mysterious men belong to.

You put both of your hands on your hips when you saw the three once again inside the storage room, gathering in front of your laptop to find the identity of these men during their lunch breaks.

"I told you to quit doing that, you're invading their privacy." Your words fell on deaf ears when they didn't even give you a single glance. You sighed and decided to leave them alone. You proceed instead to stack the single pack of colorful macarons that you made last night.

"Oh my god!" Your head snaps back at the storage room where you hear the scream.

"Unnie, your bakeshop will finally become famous!" Narae squeals once you enter the room.

"What?" Your brows furrow.

"Noona! Those men are hella popular!' "Chuwon exclaims.

"They’re Enhypen!" The three shouted. You were startled by their loud voices, which made you put your hand on your chest to calm your beating heart.

"Okay," You calmly respond. "What's the connection of them making my bakeshop famous?" you dumbfoundedly ask.

"Unnie, if people saw them here in your shop, there would be plenty of customers who would come here to see them. And if they came here, they would also buy your delicious pastries because their idols seemed to like them for constantly coming here." Seoyun explains with matching exaggerated hand gestures.

"So you're saying we would expose them that they've been constantly hanging out here to make the bakery well-known?"

"Exactly!" The three of them exclaim in unison like you just announced that you won the lottery. Their faces lit up when you pulled out the sweetest smile you could muster.

"No." You flatly said. Their jaws dropped as they didn't expect you to disagree despite knowing that it would help your shop. Just like a light switch, your face suddenly turned serious.

"We're not going to use their vulnerability so we can gain something. Leave them alone and let them enjoy the privacy they have in this shop." You put back your sweet smile.

"If I ever find out that you all still did it behind my back, your vacation leave will be denied." You warned on sing-song and returned to the counter when you heard the chime of the bell.

And it seems that your threatening worked when more weeks passed and those men still went to your bakery without getting recognized or mobbed. You're thankful; however, the three are starting to become their fans that the only topic you can hear from their mouths is about the group's music, variety shows, and concerts.

The slow jazz that was used to play in the background in your shop? It was now replaced by the group's songs.

Although sometimes you find yourself humming and bobbing your head to their music.

But the soft jazz music makes a comeback to your bakery, as today is the start of the exam week. Meaning, the three crackheads are off duty as you did not allow them to work during the exam.

The shop is not that busy, so you have no problem handling the tasks alone for a week. As a good employer, you want them to focus on their studies without worrying about their work shift.

The day went by quickly, and the night sky was quickly blanketed with stars that stretched to infinity. The pale crescent moon started to shine like a silver claw, outshining the bright city lights.

The night just started; however, for your shop, it's closing time.

You often close your shop by 10 p.m., but since you don't have any staff around, you decided to close it earlier as it becomes dangerous for a lone worker to work at a very late hour, which you also strictly apply to your three employees, especially since they are minors.

As you neared the door to flip the 'open' signage to 'closed,' the bell chimed in for the last time. Then a man in his iconic orange hoodie steps into the shop.

"Hi, thank you for visiting, but we're closing early," you sadly informed. The guy's tired eyes flickered with sadness before he nodded and turned around without a word to reach for the door.

You felt your heart squeeze with sadness as you saw how tired his eyes were. Even though his face is hidden with a mask and a thick black beanie, you can practically imagine the dejection on his face. You felt like you had failed to fulfill the main purpose of your shop.

"But if you want, you can stay while I'm tidying the shop" you tried to offer. The man halted his step and looked at you with hopeful eyes.

"Is that alright?" He asked. His voice immediately sends a tingling sensation to your body that you cannot explain. This is your first time hearing his voice, despite him constantly coming into your shop since his friend often order for the rest of them.

His voice is so soft and soothing, yet it sounds very manly.

"Yup, it's not a problem," you quickly reassure him. You heard him heave a sigh and bow at you.

"Thank you." You smiled and returned the gesture.

"You want your usual?" You continued to flip the signage and went to the counter to prepare the food he usually orders.

"Yes, please." You give him a thumbs up and quickly arrange his meal.

Instead of sitting in the back corner, where he and his friends are usually seated, he opted for the table near the counter you were working on. For the first time, he removed his mask and proceeded to busy himself on the phone.

Although the group often visits your shop, they are still cautious about removing their masks; they only do it if the food is ready to dig in. So, seeing him remove it comfortably surprised you a little.

If you remember correctly from the various videos and images that are forcefully shoved in your face by your annoying staff, his name is Jungwon. He is Seoyun's bias, as she claimed that she was captured by his cute but manly features, his adorable yet savage personality, and mostly by being an amazing singer and performer on stage.

A complete package, according to Seoyun.

Even though you cannot confirm any of those claims against the man as you don't know him and don't pay much attention to the group's performances that your three employees are constantly watching, you can totally agree with one thing that Seoyun said.

He is indeed handsome.

"Here's your chocolate chip frappuccino and strawberry cake. Enjoy!" You smile as you serve the food on his table. For once, you saw him smile, and although you could tell it was a tired smile, that still didn't stop his dimple from showing and his eyes from forming into a crescent moon.

You quickly turned around like a soldier in training and tightly hugged the tray in front of your chest when you felt your heart suddenly beating like a horse on a race track. You don't know why your heart reacted to a simple expression, so you tried to shrug it off and didn't make it a big deal.

As you put the cake and pastries back in their respective containers before placing it in the refrigerators to preserve them, you take a quick glance at your only customer for the night.

You immediately stopped in your tracks when you saw him leaning on his knees with eyes closed while pinching the bridge of his nose.

From the look of it, he must have been stressed out about something that made him this exhausted. You felt a wave of sadness as you could practically imagine how tired he must have felt.

You can't help but wonder. 'Is being an idol can be this draining?'

Now, you were pondering whether it would be a good or bad idea to give him a slice of Oreo cheesecake that you baked yesterday to try to cheer him up. Plus, this cake is still not officially on the menu yet, so you can't help but overthink if he will like it or will find you weird as you try to offer him something.

As you paced back and forth inside the storage room while eyeing the poor cake, the bell rang from the counter which is used for the customer to call a staff member. You were startled by the sound and hastily put the sliced cake in the box.

"Done?" You politely ask when you see him waiting in front of the counter. He lightly smile and nodded in reply. You smile and punches his order to the monitor to compute the total of his purchase.

While waiting for the receipt to be printed out, your mind is still trying to contemplate if you're going to give him the piece of cake. You bit the side of your cheek when you gave him the receipt, and he started to make his way to the door. You sigh and give yourself a try.

"W-wait" you called out. He immediately turned around and gently raised his brows at you. You secretly pinch your side to give yourself courage. You left the counter and finally gave him the box.

"I can't help but notice that you seem quite a bit exhausted." You averted your eyes to the floor as you felt yourself getting embarrassed. "H-here's a piece of Oreo cheesecake to cheer you up a little" you nervously said, while slightly nudging the box at him.

"Oh, no. I've been intruding on you too much." He gently tried to refuse your offer. You shook your head and let out a genuine smile.

"Trust me, you did not. You're always welcome here, anytime." His face washes with gentleness, and it feels like some weight on his shoulder has taken off from the sincerity of your words. The softness of your voice made him smile, then he reached for the box and accepted it wholeheartedly.

"The stress has been draining my energy lately, so this will really help. Thank you." His appreciation made you smile and eased your worry earlier. Suddenly, your mind made a suggestion, just like a light bulb.

"Just a second." You quickly made your way back to the counter and tried to reach something on a cupboard with your tippy toes, which made Jungwon chuckle as he found you cute while doing it.

You mentally cheered when you saw the box of tea that you were finding. You went back where he stood and gave it to him.

"Here's a chamomile tea. This might help you relieve your stress." Your thoughtfulness brightens Jungwon's mood and quickly sends a warm feeling to his heart.

"Is there anything I can do to repay your kindness?" he asked. He cannot think of ways to express his gratitude, but if you request something, he will grant it devotedly.

You, on the other hand, were ready to decline and reassure him that he didn't need to do it when something popped an idea into your head once again.

"How about you give me your honest taste review of the cake?"

Ever since your interaction with Jungwon, you've started to get a little bit curious about him and his group.

At first, you just wanted to see current news or articles about them to find some answers about the reason he was exhausted that day. But now, you find yourself rewatching their performance videos on various music shows that Narae and Chuwon showed you before. This time you paid attention, and you got to admit, they are pretty good.

Especially, the guy with similar eyes of an adorable cat.

You can't help but get a little bit excited for their comeback, which is said in one of the newest articles you find about them. You came to the conclusion that this might be the reason behind the stress that Jungwon felt that night.

"Welcome to Sweet Greets Bakery!" You automatically greet without looking up when you hear the chime of the bell. You were so focused on putting the icing on top of the cupcake that you failed to notice a young man that you were just thinking about looking at you with full admiration.

"Would that be on the menu?" You looked up when you heard a familiar voice speak. Your smile immediately made its way to your face when your eyes made contact with his boba-shaped ones.

"Yup!" You put down the bag of icing you were holding and went to the counter where Jungwon was leaning over, ready to take his order. You looked at the back corner and saw his friends already seated comfortably there.

"The usual?" He nodded and let out a chuckle, as he found it amusing how you grew used to their presence. While you're busy punching their usual orders, he can't help but stare at you with softness in his eyes.

That night was the first time he actually paid attention to you. He might be hanging with his members here often, but he kept his interaction with anyone minimal as he didn't want to gain anyone's attention. But now that he got to talk to you, he can't help but regret those times that he could have used to get to know you.

Nonetheless, he was thankful that he made the right decision to go to your shop that night to unwind.

"Can I still have the slice of cake you gave me?" He shyly asked while rubbing the back of his neck. Your fingers stop pressing the items on the monitor, and you look at him with a hint of hope in your eyes.

"Did you like it?" Your question came in whispers, afraid to hear his answer about disliking your cake.

"The Oreo cheesecake was fantastic!" He looked up like he was trying to remember about its taste. "It felt smooth, and the sweetness definitely tasted like home," he praised, then he looked at it with full sincerity swimming in his eyes.

"I enjoyed every bite of it."

As the words hung in the air, the bulletproof shield around your heart trembled. Of course, you had heard compliments before, but none had touched you the way Jungwon's heartfelt words did. His simple compliment tore open a new doorway to your emotions, making your heart flutter like a trapped bird, banging against the confines of your narrow chest.

"So, I was wondering if it can be my usual order now?" He mumbled and lowered his head trying to hide his apple cheeks, which were blazing with redness.

Just like Jungwon, your cheeks are now a deeper shade of red, and your heart is still dancing in the confetti of admiration.

"B-but it is still not yet on the m-menu." You stutter as you put your attention on the monitor once again and slowly complete the orders. You bite your lower lip and look at the young men through your lashes. You tried to suppress your giggles when you saw a sad pout adorning his face.

"Though I can make an exception for you."

From the moment you handed him the slice of cake he specially requested. A friendship unexpectedly blossomed, stretching far beyond the typical baker-and-customer set-up. Jungwon, being the leader of a well-known boy group, felt comfortable letting go of his duties when he was with you inside your comfy bakery.

Soon, Jungwon's late-night visits to the bakeshop became a tradition.

"How many eggs should I put in again?" Jungwon asked you, clad in a brown apron similar to the one you were wearing.

One such evening, while you were discussing with him the recipe for your Oreo cheesecake, he suddenly got the idea to let you teach him the process of making it so he could use it as content in his short vlog and impress his Jay-hyung.

And so, you and Jungwon's baking adventure began. Your simple and quiet evening in your shop was now filled with laughter, occasional flour fights, and piles of failed cookies he tried to make. Slowly, you began to look forward to his late-night visit.

"You ready?" you asked him while you carefully took the Oreo cheesecake out of the oven, which he had solely made without your help.

With eyes closed, he nodded in anticipation.

"You can now open your eyes." Once his eyes did, his mouth slowly hang open.

"I made that?" You softly laugh when he eyed his cake with disbelief.

"Yes, you did!" You cheered. The cake really turned out great for his first attempt, you couldn't be even more proud of him. Jungwon jumps with happiness making you giggle.

He raised his hands at you, asking for a high-five, which you quickly reciprocated and clapped hands with him. You thought it was just a brief contact, but Jungwon decided to intertwined his fingers with yours and clasped them tightly.

A wave of unexpected electricity rushes through your veins and sends your heart to flutter.

Every time you spend your night with Jungwon, you always experience this peculiar feeling. Making the fluttering of your heart more frequent and pronounced. These little flutters seemed to build into a crescendo, filling your heart with a strange yet sweet emotion.

"Y-you want to t-taste it?" You quickly removed your hands from his hold and quickly turned around to find some utensils and to hide your flushed face from his heart-melting stares. As you did it, you failed to see how his face filled with disappointment from the lost contact.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungwon was also experiencing the same surge of electrifying waves within him. His insides also fluttered in a way he only felt when he first walked into the cozy, aromatic haven of your bakeshop.

However, this time, the butterflies were not from the sweet baked goods but from a newfound emotion he felt for you.

"Can you send me the cake instead" You halted your action when you heard his request. It was odd, however, you just thought that he wanted to show his members the cake he made. Although you're quite disappointed that you couldn't taste it.

"Sure, when would you like me to send it to you?"

"On February 9." That's three days from now; the usual span of the cake is 4 to 5 days before it expires. The cake will still make it.

"I'll take note of that." You smiled.

The slow jazz music that helped set the mood for your relaxing shop was short-lived when your three staff members returned after the long week of exams and a well-deserved vacation leave that you granted. You were judgingly watching them as they danced to one of Enhypen's songs while they arranged the chairs and mopped the floor.

"Omo! Jungwon is on live!" Your ears suddenly perked when you heard Seoyun exclaim. The two immediately surrounded the girl, who was watching something on her phone. You tried to stop yourself from joining them, as you didn't want to be seen as suspicious for having a sudden interest in him.

Although you somehow did.

You were saddened that he failed to visit the shop three days in a row, and you got to admit that you missed his presence, which slowly became part of your small shop. However, you understand that his job can be a little demanding.

Still, you're slightly thankful that he didn't suddenly show up, as your three staff members will literally scream with enthusiasm and confusion when they see him having a comfortable conversation with you since you never told them about your growing friendship with him while they were gone.

You got a little bit curious behind their giggles, so you tried to sneak a peek from behind them.

Indeed, you saw Jungwon, with a wide smile, having fun talking to his fans. On his back were blue foil curtains with silver balloons around them, while in front of him was the cake he made that you just delivered this afternoon with a cake topper and candles.

Then it hits you.

Today is his birthday.

"Where did I get the recipe for the cake? From 'Sweet Greets Bakery!' They sell the best pastries, yoii~"

You know your heart is in trouble when it automatically flutters like a kite in the wind at the sound of his voice, even if he is away from you.

The unusual skipping beat of your heart when you heard Jungwon's laughter at your dry jokes, the always-fluttering when he listened to you attentively, and the feeling like something was missing when he was away were so unfamiliar, yet they made your heart full of so much happiness and affection.

This realization shattered the protective wall around your heart that you had meticulously crafted. The only one thing that you had never felt before was happening.

You are in love.

You are falling in love with Yang Jungwon.

Eventually, words about Jungwon liking your bakeshop spread like wildfire, sending fans into a frenzy. Your shop, which was almost empty of customers, was now filled with people trying to taste your baked goods, especially the Oreo cheesecake.

It was overwhelming not only to you but also to your three employees, as this is your first time taking so many orders in a day. It is tiring, but it feels like it magically vanished every time you saw the genuine reaction of your customers at every bite they took from the pastries you passionately baked.

It was a long, eventful three weeks, but your heart is grateful.

You were just basking in the quiet surroundings, as you had already closed your bakery and let three teenagers go home earlier, when someone knocked on the door.

A bright smile immediately made its way onto your face when you saw Jungwon in his thick gray hoodie and dark bucket hat waving his hand cutely at you through the glass door.

"What are you doing here?" are the first words that come out of your mouth once you unlock the door.

"I was supposed to visit you earlier, but the bakery is quite busy." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I really wanted to see you, so I came back."

You tried so hard not to put a meaning behind his words, but your heart seemed not to want to listen as it beat like crazy, and it feels like a cage of butterflies has been set free in your stomach.

"W-well, thanks to you, my bakeshop got a lot of recognition." You sincerely thanking him, even though you use it to try to ignore the last thing he said.

Jungwon felt his heart torn into pieces when you brushed off the words that reflected his overflowing affection for you. Yet, his heart is still filled with hope.

"You watched my live?" You were frozen from his question.

In fact, you did. Not the only part where you sneak a peak on Seoyun's phone but the whole birthday live. You personally made an account just to watch the replay of his live that day.

"I d-did" You averted your eyes. "Although it was a replay," you pursed your lips as you felt ashamed of yourself for doing it and letting him find it out.

Jungwon felt his heart jump with giddiness when you showed signs of interest in him.

"Yoi~" He adorably cooed and gently brushed his shoulder with yours. The sound of your giggles from what he did sends butterflies to his stomach.

"Oh, I have a surprise for you!" You exclaim after you remember the gift that you prepared for his birthday, even though his birthday was three weeks ago. You went to the storage room, leaving Jungwon full of anticipation.

Soon, you emerge from the room, holding your present for him. Despite the excitement of seeing his reaction, you were still nervous as it took you so many attempts to make your gift presentable. Plus, it was your first time making this design in your entire baking life.

However, your worries dissipated when you saw his mouth hang open in amazement at the cat-shaped cake that you were holding. You started singing him the birthday song while slowly making your way to him.

As you softly sang, his vision magically became blurry, and the only thing he could see clearly was your pretty face, which was always clad with gentle and genuine expressions. Your soothing voice is like a whisper in his heart that slowly dances and sways to its rhythm.

Those days that he couldn't see you, he felt something was missing. Your smiles, the melody of your laughter, and your comforting presence keep lingering in his mind. The only thing running through his head is to see you and spend his time with you once again.

The three long, agonizing weeks of not seeing you make his heart yearn for your presence, like a parched desert yearning for rain.

From the moment you hand him the slice of cake as an offer to relieve his stress, he knows he is down. Being away from you only confirms his feelings for you.

He is in love,

with you.

"Make a wish," you said after finishing the song. You expect Jungwon to close his eyes as he makes his wish, but your heart begins to race when he looks you in the eye, gazing at you with only a soft and gentle stare.

"I wish—" He removes your hold on the cake and carries it instead with one hand. Then, his other hand found its way to yours and slowly intertwined them without breaking eye contact.

"—I can spend the rest of my birthdays with you."

A torrent of emotions—warmth, joy, and love—fused together, igniting an electrifying light show within your chest. It feels like a burst of the sparkling fireworks display, not in the sky but in your heart.

You felt his thumb softly draw small circles in your hand, quickly sending tingles through your body.

"My bakery will go bankrupt from sending you birthday cake each year," you joked. Jungwon chuckled and gently squeezed your hand, still looking at you with sparkles in his eyes.

You pressed your palm on his cheek and rubbed your thumb against it with full affection, making him lean to your touch.

"Your wish is granted, Jungwon."

It was like both of your hearts exploded into an incandescent shower of feelings that mingled with the colors of the frosted night sky—a vivid, heart-pumping confetti of joy and love.

You both giggle at the strange way of confessing to each other. Although it was an odd confession, it was enough to convey the euphoric feelings you have for each other.

You and Jungwon's bond, baked and constructed in the 'Sweet Greets Bakery' hearth, had matured into love. From friends, you both seamlessly become lovers, with the love story orchestrated by fate and shared fondness for the bakeshop that brought you two together tying in the sweet, aromatic embrace of love forever.

Jungwon thought that the bakery was the only safe refuge he could have away from the limelight. He thought it was a place.

But it was a person.

You are his safe place.

1K notes · View notes

shibaraki · 11 months

Text

LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

synopsis: slow to heal and forced on sick leave, a lonely Todoroki Shouto decides to download the latest popular app, Enigmail, to cure his boredom. he finds you. the rest is… well. moderately disastrous.

tags: NSFT, AFAB reader, pen pal au, hero personal assistant reader, prohero shouto, strangers to friends to lovers, injury recovery, online friendship + eventual romance, feelings development, misunderstandings, identity reveal, pining, sexting, masturbation (male chara), making out + heavy petting, getting together, *slaps roof of fic* you can fit so much fluff in this thing

wc: 17K

It started unexpectedly—with a tremor.

Rather, it started with Oda Shuichi, the prolific villain known as Tremor. At the time of the incident his quirk had been unregistered, but doctors quickly found that it severely affected an individual's motor neurons. According to them the length of time that he has a five point touch hold on someone influences how long they will lose motor function—and how poorly their muscles atrophy.

Shouto spent three uninterrupted minutes trapped in his clutches.

“I promise I’ll come by and visit whenever we can. You’ll still get updates and reports through your work email,” Midoriya tried to assure him with that signature smile, brows drawn together into an almost pleading expression. “It’s just for a little while!”

“For a month,” Shouto pointed out petulantly. Nori, his elderly adopted cat, stirred from her place on his stomach while restless fingers combed over her short pale fur.

“A month,” Midoriya parrots. He offers an apologetic grimace and leans over where he lies horizontal, slumped and agitated, to fluff up the couch cushions behind him. The newly crowned Symbol of Peace obviously felt needlessly responsible for the situation at hand. Shouto had only allowed Tremor to grab him so Deku and Suneater could get the hostages out, after all.

“Taking a break isn’t so bad, Shouto. And Hawks told me you’ve yet to actually use any of your vacation days,” he continued. “Even Kacchan takes time off. Do you know how many hours you have to work to outdo Kacchan?”

“I’m sure you could tell me exact numbers”.

“Don’t be mean,” Midoriya said, dithering as he peers around the room, slightly unfamiliar now that the furniture has been temporarily moved around to make navigating the space easier. Thanks to an on-call specialist Shouto would still be able to walk in short bursts, but he’d have to gradually build up strength and stamina over the weeks to come.

A pleased sound reverberated in Midoriya’s throat as he finally discovered the TV remote, setting it beside Shouto’s phone on the arm of the chair. “Okay. There,” he hooked an ankle around the coffee table and dragged it a little closer. “If you need us to get you anything from the store just text us”.

Shouto grumbled. Midoriya sighed, fondly exasperated at the childish display. Before leaving he moved the nearby pair of crutches within reach, listing off all the things he can think of, “Hey, maybe you can catch up on Quirky Hearts now! Or read that series Iida said you’d enjoy. There’s that new app I heard about, too. Enigmail? That might be fun”.

The anonymous pen pal app, Enigmail, exploded in popularity after its release in the spring. Shouto barely knew a thing about it, only that you needed to be over eighteen and chatting partners were assigned at random. Nothing about that sounded tempting.

Midoriya’s suggestion hung over his head for the rest of that afternoon. Quirky Hearts droned on in the background. Halfway through the first episode Shouto had yet to retain any information. Nori hardly left her spot. Jaws stretched wide around a yawn, lips pulled back to display what remained of her teeth. He liked to think she sensed his inner turmoil, though realistically, she was likely too lazy to move.

Curiosity prevailed in the end. The logo featured a pink post mounted mailbox, the slot unhinged to receive a folded paper plane. Shouto opened the app onto a pretty basic interface that followed an almost pastel theme. The profiles are barebones. He supposed that was purposeful. It asked for pronouns and a nickname, offering the option to pick an icon from their default library, but nothing more.

From what he could discern skimming over the rules he would be assigned to a random chat room with another person in a speed dating style interaction. A timer would count down from two minutes and upon completion prompt the user to either switch partners or remain talking.

A simple concept. But anything had sounded better than sulking horizontally and staring dead eyed at reality television for the remainder of his night. And when was the last time he met somebody new?

Almost every username he could think up had been taken. Even his hero name was unavailable. In a last ditch effort he settled on a miraculously accepted Sooba and scrolled through the icons. “Hey, it looks like you,” he murmured, pleased by the regal white cat icon. She hadn’t heard him, but sunk her dull claws into the meat of his forearm as he turned the image to her, those dramatic yellow eyes dilating at his coo, “Don’t worry. You’re the only Nori in my life”.

Shouto clicked start.

The first few users are odd, and without tact. Others communicated in languages he couldn’t understand. He stuck around regardless—luckily the developers had thought to include a translation tool, and Shouto managed to befriend one or two people with innocuous pictures he’d taken on previous patrols alone.

Then there’s…

XpLoveGuest ▻ Hey sexy

By that point early evening had already flooded through his balcony doors and drenched everything in a gauzy orange glow. His nose wrinkled. “You have no idea what I look like,” he thought aloud, switching to his right hand to roll the ache from his left wrist

▻ ASL?

Shouto frowned in faint confusion. He minimised the app to search up the term. Results flowed in, and after a brief look over everything he discovered they all repeated the same description. It’s an old acronym.

His thumbs tapped across the keyboard in quick succession.

Sooba ▻ Age: 27 ▻ Location: Tokyo ▻ Sex: No thank you

The chat immediately disappeared. A loading symbol blinks in the centre of the screen. He snorted, and suddenly a new chat opened with a different username blinking at the top corner. It’s a bit on the nose.

‘InsertNameHere’.

You shared the same default cat icon, which he took as an immediate plus.

But a minute elapsed and nobody spoke. There was an unusual trepidation on your part. Shouto chewed his bottom lip. He contemplated starting the conversation when suddenly three dots skipped across the screen, indicating the other user was typing something.

InsertNameHere ▻ You’re not going to send me a picture of your dick, are you? ▻ If you have one that is.

Shouto’s mouth parted in soft surprise, then pressing defensively thin, and he had glanced around his living room as though someone were there to witness this weirdness alongside him.

Sooba ▻ I have one.

InsertNameHere ▻ Ok. Well I don’t want to see it.

Sooba ▻ It sounds like you see a lot of dicks.

Not once taking his eyes away from the screen, Shouto felt for the TV remote and paused the show, brow arching at your next response.

InsertNameHere ▻ And it sounds like you’re new here.

Sooba ▻ I am. My friend recommended I try this to cure my boredom while I recover.

A few beats passed. He eyed the countdown looming over your shared interaction, conscious of how little time is left. You were the first interesting person he’s come across. Though he supposed that isn’t saying much.

InsertNameHere ▻ Recover? That sounds bad. Are you alright?

Sooba ▻ Injury at work. I’ll be fine in a few weeks.

Just as you were beginning to respond, the timer cut out. Shouto reflexively expelled his frustration and Nori lifted her head toward the abrupt movement of his chest, ears twitching. She blinked up at him in disapproval for shaking her. “Sorry sweet girl,” he murmured, wearing a small smile as he scratched under her chin. So temperamental.

A familiar pop up in the cartoonish shape of a postcard covered the chat. Your messages blurred into the background. It read: Do you wish to continue corresponding?

Shouto clicked ‘Yes’. And apparently you did too, because your contact pinned itself to his in-app mailbox.

A melodic chime pinged from his phone. Confetti burst across the off white background in pixelated blooms.

✎ CONGRATULATIONS! You have a new pen pal ✐

InsertNameHere ▻ Guess I can keep you company in the meantime. ▻ You’re the only sane person I’ve come across so far.

Shouto smiled, even as the muscles in his cheeks protested. It’s a stubborn reminder of his condition. He repositioned himself to lessen the strain on his wrists, chin tucked to his chest where his phone is propped, and said:

Sooba ▻ I’d like that. :)

The fortnight that followed is slow to pass. An endless cycle of wake, stretch, eat, lightly exercise as instructed by his physiotherapist, play with Nori, eat, watch Quirky Hearts, stretch. Midoriya stopped by, bringing Iida along with him. Jirou sent him playlists to listen to. Fuyumi called every evening and shared the phone with his mother, gentle in their fretting. He assures them all that he’s coping just fine from the Shouto-shaped depression in his couch cushions.

But there’s also you; the stream of consciousness keeping his seams together, lest he fall apart from the complete and utter boredom he’s been forced to endure. In the beginning he wasn’t sure of the rules. Talking online is not his forte and neither is making new friends. That entire first morning was spent ruminating whether or not texting you ‘good morning’ was strange, and estimating how many times was appropriate to message you before he violated some invisible social boundary.

Normal had been irrelevant until now. Normal, to Shouto, consisted of avoiding his father’s phone calls, sending the occasional concussive text message—indecipherable to even the greatest cryptanalysts—and giving Nori updates in the 1A Grad group chat.

Sometimes he’ll open the app to see you typing, pausing, typing. Imagining you, a faceless someone, equally uncertain about your footing pleases him a little. In the end he figured if you didn’t want to talk to him, you wouldn’t respond. Evidenced by how you often saved him the trouble by messaging first, sometimes as early as five o'clock in the morning. Apparently you worked irregular hours in a rather unpredictable industry. Shouto weighs the possibility that you might be a fellow hero—or something close—more than he cared to admit.

Any trepidation he felt would always dwindle as soon as a notification lit up on the screen. He reads your username and his insides turn over.

InsertNameHere ▻ I’ve escaped to the break room. ▻ Do you ever think about how we don’t have muscles in our fingers? How fucked up is that?

Shouto smirks, pulled away from the conversation at hand. He unlocks the phone in his lap, beneath the kotatsu to remain hidden, an attempt at being inconspicuous as he replies.

Sooba ▻ I try not to think too much about anything.

You throw back a few laughing emoticons and satisfaction washes over him. “You’ve been texting a lot. Who’s got you smiling like that?” Natsuo asks slyly. He’s cross legged, tie tossed irreverently over his shoulder, shirtsleeves rolled up to his forearms, having come straight from work. “A special someone?”

Shouto forces the muscles in his face to relax into feigned nonchalance. “Nobody. Nothing,” he says unconvincingly.

Rei enters the room with a modest tray of dango before Natsuo can open his big mouth. She’s wearing a bi-coloured hoodie. The sleeves slip as she sets the treats down on the table beside the green tea Fuyumi brewed earlier; another gift from Yaoyorozu’s family travels. Natsuo’s face twitches under Shouto’s unbroken stare, which is daring him to bring it up while their mother is here.

Then his phone vibrates and any possibility of peace is shattered.

His mother glances curiously at him, expression soft in the dewy afternoon light, and she smiles. “Are you speaking to one of your friends?” she asks. “Please tell Deku ‘thank you’ for sending me your new Shouto hoodie. It’s very warm”.

The words fill something cavernous inside him. Soothes the ache with gentle wonderment. She smiles down at his hero logo printed proudly across her chest, rubbing the hem between her finger and thumb. A younger Shouto could have only ever imagined it.

“I’m not so sure it’s a friend this time,” Natsuo teases, spoken with a playful, sing-song cadence. “Shouto wouldn’t text at the table and risk facing Fuyumi’s wrath just for a friend”.

Shouto does not pout. “I would risk anything for my friends,” he says, affronted; anything maybe except his older sister's well intentioned nagging. “…It’s a new friend, that’s all”.

Rei perks up, settling on her knees and laying the kotatsu blanket over her thighs. The quiet sound of plates and cups clinking together fade in from the kitchen. Natsuo hums, unconvinced, and hides a smile behind his mug. It's moments like this, when the people he loves are gathered in one place, and he can hear them in every corner of his home, that he’s glad for buying a smaller apartment.

“That’s wonderful, Shouto,” Rei murmurs as Fuyumi pads into the room, Nori not long behind her, threading through his elder sister's ankles. She too arrived right after work, donning a suit-skirt and blouse. “What’s their name?”

His thoughts stutter. Fuyumi’s nose wrinkles seeing the panic stark on his face. “Who are we talking about?”

“Beats me. Ask him,” Natsuo says, taking a stick of dango between his teeth as he tries not to grin when Shouto’s phone vibrates a second time. “I want to know who’s so eager to talk to my little brother”.

InsertNameHere ▻ Sooooobaaaaaaa ▻ I’m on my lunch keep me company

Shouto snatches up his phone to respond. He brings it closer to his face to allow Nori access to his lap. She monopolises the space instantly. “You’re not a teenager anymore, Shouto,” Fuyumi laments. “No phones during family time”.

“I know. I’m sorry, nee-san. I just need to…” his thumbs dance over the keyboard, head ducked in amalgamated shame and apology.

Sooba ▻ Question ▻ InsertNameHere ▻ What is your name?

InsertNameHere ▻ At the personal info stage already? You move fast. ▻ Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.

That stirs a faint unease in his gut and he understands better then. Anonymity is what gives people a sense of security and he isn’t exempt from that. In truth, right now he doesn’t want to know what might change if you knew who was on the other end yet.

Sooba ▻ You can call me whatever you want.

“Shouto”.

InsertNameHere ▻ That’s not even a line is it. ▻ Man. You’re dangerous.

Sooba ▻ ???

Shouto stares at the flickering dots by your username. You type, then stop. Type, then stop. As if you were deleting and starting over again. A habit of yours he’s quite endeared to. “Shouto!” Fuyumi huffs, poking a manicured finger into his side. Though short, the nail still causes him to flinch, and he’s quick to stretch his phone out of reach as her hand swipes through the air. “I mean it!”

Nori is jolted. She voices her immediate displeasure and Rei titters into her sleeve. The sleeve with his name stitched into the fabric. He breath catches, like it always does when his mother laughs. “Shouto doesn’t have to tell us anything until he’s ready,” she assured, offering him a gentle look—a look so sincere he feels awful for being evasive.

And his feeble resolve fractures.

“I don’t know,” he confesses bluntly. Natsuo and Fuyumi frown, at one another and then back at him, in unsettling synchrony cultivated through siblinghood. Shouto shrugs and pulls at a stray thread in his jeans cut loose under Nori’s claws, “I can’t tell you a name because I don’t know it”.

Natsuo appears mildly surprised. Fuyumi sinks into disbelief, feet curled beneath her body, going lax at his side. She drops her arm. “You… don’t know it?” she repeats.

“The app is anonymous,” he supplies hastily, attention flickering to his mother, far more worried about discerning her reaction. She’s unreadable. “My name isn’t on there either. We just talk about stuff”.

“Stuff?” his siblings' voices overlap, told apart only by the difference in tone. Natsuo’s shock has melted into some strange mix of pride and innuendo. “Is it that penpal thing everyone has been talking about? Enigma?”

“Enigmail,” he mutters. Natsuo lights up. Fuyumi does not share the sentiment.

“You’re a hero, Shouto! What if it’s someone with bad intentions?” she frets, brows drawn down and together, mouth pressed thin. “They could be tricking you. The internet is rife with predators, and—!”

“Nee-san. I’m a grown man. I understand the importance of internet safety,” Shouto interjects.

Natsuo slumps onto the table with a mawkish sigh, the sound steeped in fondness. “Let him have fun. You know he’s right, ‘Yumi, he’s an adult. It’s a wonder where all that time went,” he says. A few beats later he’s abruptly straightening his spine, “Gods, Fuyumi. You’re almost thirty five!”

Fuyumi glares from behind her glasses. She reaches across the kotatsu and swats lightly at his bicep, “Do you have to say it like that? You’re thirty one!”

“Please. Stop arguing,” Shouto says. He pets the unperturbed cat curled up on his thighs, “You might startle Nori”.

“Shouto. She’s deaf”.

Rei cuts their bickering short as she breathes, “When did you all get so big…” a serene smile hung on her lips, not a hint of grief to be seen. The answers surrounding your identity—or lack thereof—are lost to the nostalgia cloying in his throat.

They return to enjoying tea and dango after that. Shouto sets his phone face down on the floor and turns off vibrate. For now, he wants to ward off further interrogation.

His mother intuits this and steers the conversation in another direction, “Natsuo, how have things been at your new job? Are they treating you well?”

Things are good. Fuyumi’s class would soon be graduating, an award for Best Teacher polished and positioned on her desk. Natsuo had landed the job he always wanted—a medical welfare officer working closely with trauma survivors—and was already making waves. His mother, Rei, finally finished cultivating her traditional garden, weaving tales of lush foliage and water spouts. Touya too has been improving in his rehabilitation programme, according to his psychiatrist’s reports.

A tremor quakes through the tendons in Shouto’s forearm as he lifts his tea to sip the remaining dregs. Yaoyorozu outdid herself this time. If he hadn’t already known the price he would have discerned it from the refreshing, uniquely sweet taste. Thoughts of you cross his mind in these instances without warning. Would you like it? What’s your favourite tea?

Shouto scrunches his eyes shut as if it might wash those thoughts away. How is it that the stranger in his pocket possesses the ability to awaken such yearning in him; he feels mildly ashamed to have realised his loneliness with an audience.

The hour rolls into another. Shouto scrapes the last dango along the skewer with his teeth, jutting his chin to evade Nori’s curious sniffing. “This was lovely, Shouto. Thank you for having us over,” Fuyumi expressed as she carefully ran her hand along the feline's back.

Sensing the finality, Shouto motions to stand and sets Nori on the couch. Everyone protests it. He huffs, sliding a crutch over from where they lay nearby and letting it take his weight. A good decision, he thinks, inwardly grimacing as the blood rushes to his feet, prickling like violent white noise under his skin, and his knee almost gives out.

“I’m okay. The doctor told me I should be trying to move around more anyway,” he tells them, deigning to mention that he expended most of his energy tidying up this morning before their visit. “You’re my guests. I want to walk you to the door”.

Shouto tries not to bristle under their wary scrutiny. A cool hand slips around his arm then. His mother’s natural chill seeps through the sleeve of his shirt and allays the irritation. “We appreciate it, sweetheart,” she says.

“We do,” Fuyumi gently insists. “We’re happy to see you recovering well. Right, Natsu—?”

“Kiss tax!” Natsuo exclaims, oblivious to his surroundings. He scoops Nori up from the arm of the couch. She is comically tiny pressed against his chest. A continuous indignant drone rumbles in her throat as his brother peppers firm kisses to the top of her head.

“Put my baby down,” Shouto deadpanned.

“She isn’t your baby,” Natsuo slides one hand under Nori, the other carefully tucked into her armpits. He holds her close to Shouto’s face. Dramatic round eyes stare back; a flat expression emphasised by prominent cheekbones. Barely a hair's breadth between them, Nori begins to swipe her rough tongue against his scarred cheek. “See? You’re her baby”.

“Mine, too,” Rei rises to her tiptoes and scratches behind Nori’s ear, turning a smile toward Shouto. That same hand moved to cup his cheek. Though far taller than his mother, Shouto tips his head and finds himself feeling incredibly small as she presses a kiss to his forehead. “Your hair is getting long again,” she adds as she pulls away.

“I can trim it if it’s bothering you,” Fuyumi nods, sidling up beside Rei to survey the growth together. She brushes back the wayward strands framing his face and Shouto blinks. “Though, I think I like this look on you. What’s it called? A wolfcut?”

“I’m not sure. This is how Mina cut it a few months ago,” he replies.

Natsuo interjects without Nori in his grasp, now notably covered in short cat hair. He claps Shouto on the back and pulls him into a firm side hug, “She did good. Our handsome little Shouto”.

Initiating physical affection with his family was still a weary affair after all this time, though patently one sided. Having them touch him so freely always left him a little stupefied.

After they depart, Shouto hobbles to find his phone with all the grace of a newborn fawn. It is face down under the kotatsu cover right where he left it. And as it blinks to life, he skips the notifications from the 1A group chat to find your screen name at the bottom.

InsertNameHere ▻ My boss has these awful little nicknames for everyone in the agency. Mine’s ‘Maestro’. Nerd and butterfingers, too, but mostly Maestro. ▻ To do with my quirk and role, I suppose. Good for morale etc. His creativity astounds me (๑ಕ̴ _̆ ಕ̴) ﾝ？ ▻ Not that I don’t appreciate it but. Well shit, what about my morale? Lol ▻ You there? ▻ Sorry if I scared you off by getting personal.

Shouto worries at his bottom lip. Maestro. Something new about you. A foreign feeling churned in his chest. Faint, barely there, but new enough for him to notice. He’s not sure how to pin it; whether your mention of working at an agency bothers him or the fact that others, people who are not Shouto, get to see you everyday, close enough to give you a personal nickname.

Sooba ▻ Sounds like you have a good relationship. I’ve got a close friend who sounds similar. People say it’s just his love language ha ▻ And you didn’t scare me off. I’m the one who asked. Some family came to check on me.

He barely thinks it over before adding:

▻ My mother said hi by the way.

Your reply isn’t immediate but it is quicker than he expects.

InsertNameHere ▻ You’re right. I do like my boss sometimes. Maybe. And I love this job but I think it has aged me ten years. My ulcers have ulcers! ▻ Also—telling your family about me now too? We really are moving fast.

A soft huff of laughter jumps in his throat. There’s a distant clamoring near the kitchen. The sound of Nori’s bowl being pushed around the tile. Her absence clicks in place when he looks at the clock. He should feed her soon.

Sooba ▻ Technically it was only my mother, older sister and brother. ▻ But I can relate about the work stuff.

InsertNameHere ▻ Yeah? You mentioned being on leave because of an injury. Do you like your work?

That’s a question he has never asked himself, nor has he ever felt the need to. Heroism was the path life handed to him. The path he ultimately followed of his own volition. Shouto loves his family, his friends. He’s good at his job—enough to have made it into the top ten. And isn’t that all that matters?

Sometimes he would take a long, weary look out the revolving agency doors, recognise the heaviness in his bones and give the entire thing a second thought. But that never made any difference. Because people needed him. And he needed them too.

There’s a fleeting urge in that instance; a temptation to come clean, if only to sate his own curiosity. To compare the idealised image of what you looked like or how you sounded. He’s spent many a shameful night thinking up romanticised scenarios in his mind about what it would be like to meet you in real life. Shouto always squashes it. He doubts you’d believe him.

Ever perceptive to his moods, Nori chooses that moment to pad in from the kitchen and sit herself directly in his line of sight. She wails, demanding attention and lacking any volume control.

Right now he is not a hero but a man alone on two unsteady legs with a small living thing reliant upon him. He’s just Todoroki Shouto. He’s just—

Sooba ▻ As of right now my occupation is ‘Nori’s dad’. I like it pretty well.

Your reply is immediate.

InsertYourName ▻ Oh you have a kid?

Nori’s frustration grows. Her tail swishes back and forth, agitated. “It isn’t time to eat yet,” Shouto tells her, pulling up his phone camera and zooming in. On her next yowl the shutter goes off. The picture is perfect. Mouth wide open, large ears flat and nose wrinkled in displeasure, lips curled up to display her pink gums.

Sooba ▻ [IMG_0243] ▻ Something like that.

It’s a risk and he knows it. Though infrequently his team has posted Nori to his social media in the past at the delight of his fans—she was younger in those pictures, but if you were well acquainted with him there was the possibility of you putting the puzzle pieces together.

InsertNameHere ▻ Oh my god sooba. She’s so cute. Give her everything she asks for, you monster. ▻ Hey. Are those Ingenium themed crutch pads?

Anxiety rockets through him. He pulls up the photo and sure enough, his crutches are in the corner of the frame, laid within reach beside the couch. Secured around the handles are Ingenium themed pads to cushion his palms.

Sooba ▻ They are.

InsertNameHere ▻ Is he your favourite hero?

He turns his phone over in his hands before he types, overcome by an abrupt restlessness.

Sooba ▻ One of them. ▻ Do you have a favourite hero?

Nori wanders off in his periphery and not long after he hears the telltale sound of cardboard being torn apart. You stop typing, replies coming to a halt. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

It becomes clear you’re offline. Shouto spends the evening imagining your answer—ducking sheepishly at the idea that you might say him, then cringing at his reaction—and reading through his work emails.

Partnering with Hawks hasn’t been the worst thing in the world. Despite his carefree demeanour and general lack of personal space Hawks was professional and meticulous when it came to his work. As promised, Shouto was CC’d into every important thread and forwarded every significant incident report each day. Apparently there’s a big fundraiser tonight that he is unable to attend.

Hawks suggests matching Endeavor’s donation in spirit. Shouto doubles it.

The night air barely touches him. Leaning against the balcony railing he surveys the cityscape. A kaleidoscope canvas. He stares until the pinpricks of light stretch and bend, streaking his vision, regaining shape when he blinks. Nori is curled around his calf, playfully kicking her back legs at his ankle. She’s careful to never break skin.

It’s nearing midnight when you get back to him. A disconcertingly vague reply of:

InsertNameHere ▻ I’ve had enough of heroes.

Shouto waits for you to elaborate before presuming anything nefarious. He would hate for Fuyumi to be correct. She’d never let him forget it.

▻ Shit that made me sound bad, didn’t it? I promise I’m not a villain

He snorts, reclining himself into one of the chairs on his patio. Yaoyorozu insisted upon helping decorate the space. This piece in particular had been chosen by Uraraka, if only for its cocoon, egg-like shape. She always sat in it if she came over; Shouto can’t say he blames her, now curling up inside it himself, leaving one foot flat to the floor for Nori to cling to.

Sooba ▻ Only a little bit lol.

InsertNameHere ▻ I just mean for today! I’ve had enough for today! ▻ There’s… a whole lot of them at this work event I’m attending is all. ▻ See! ▻ [IMG_0589]

It’s the first picture you’ve ever sent to him that wasn’t a meme. Your legs are crossed, turned inward to show more of the showroom floor. There are people everywhere. You’ve overturned your lanyard in your lap, straps dotted with the charity logo, to display the back of your security pass. No identification. Just proof that you’re there—

Proof that you’re a real person, giving colour to the vague, shapeless figure in his head. The figure once outlined only by random tidbits, like your favourite food, the music you like, the movies you loved as a child. The figure now clad in tight fitting, seemingly pearlescent sheer material from the waist down.

—Shouto swallows dryly.

You have nice hands. He tries not to linger on that.

▻ That’s why I disappeared, btw. Sorry about that. ▻ I feel weirdly underdressed.

The logo on your lanyard has recognition prickling in the back of his mind. Hours earlier Midoriya had texted him two pictures from the ‘HEROKIND’ fundraiser Hawks mentioned. One being a selfie of him and an aggrieved Bakugo, each wearing their own fitted suit, and another of Uraraka in an evening gown stood behind the imposing silhouette that was his father, stealthily pointing her middle finger at his back.

He saved that one to his camera roll.

Sooba ▻ In that case I will close the HPSC anonymous tip line ▻ Sometimes people try too hard at those events and forget why they’re there. You look good from what I see.

InsertNameHere ▻ How very gracious (´・｀ ) ▻ Sounds like you have some experience with this kind of thing. My condolences lmao ▻ But thank you. I’m glad you think so.

Shouto entertains the idea of sending you something back. His eyes surreptitiously flicker around as though being watched. Nothing revealing who he is, but enough to maybe—

The camera captures a few of the modest flower beds and cat grass lining his balcony, Nori coiled around his bare ankle. He looks at his hand. Shuffles his hips further down to mirror your angle and flexes his fingers in his lap. Heat floods his body, guided by the shameless desire to inform the image you might have of him in your own head, too.

Sooba ▻ [IMG_288] ▻ At least you’re having more fun than I am.

You type for a long ten second interval. Then restart. A tedious minute elapses and just as regret creeps in, your messages come through.

InsertNameHere ▻ I’m not so sure about that. ▻ Actually it would probably be more bearable if you were here with me.

The sound of his heartbeat floods his ears. So warm it’s like he’s standing under the sun. Shouto belatedly realises it’s just his quirk, as the steam blows out through his nose. Nori butts his ankle in complaint. He bends to take her into his arms, feeling ridiculous and somewhat bad at being a person.

Sooba ▻ Think so? ▻ Just so you know I have been called socially inept on numerous occasions.

InsertNameHere ▻ Then we can hide together in the corner, get tipsy and sneak bits of the fancy spread.

This—doesn’t happen to Shouto. “Nori. I have feelings for a person I’ve never seen,” he pushes his face into Nori’s fur, and she purrs, feeling the vibrations of his voice. Admitting it aloud only highlights the absurdity. He feels out of his depth. And he decides he’s glad for the anonymity. Grateful, even. Lest he publicly humiliate himself and set off every fire alarm in the vicinity.

Sooba ▻ That sounds perfect.

InsertNameHere ▻ I’ll hold you to that. There’s another one of these coming up in two weeks. ▻ Prepare yourself (ꈍᴗꈍ)

“You’re really not helping,” he continues. Nori rubs insistently under his chin. “Fine, fine. I get it,” She croaks as he presses into the touch, mimicking her movement and cradling her as he gets up.

Before retiring to bed he pulls up Yaoyorozu’s contact. He settles into a comfortable position in the covers, propping his phone on his stomach, and he types:

Shouto : 00:14

I think I need help.

Consciousness eases into him slowly. It’s a sleepy pastel morning. Dust dances in the soft spotlight cast through his curtains. Shouto’s jaw unhinged to release a long yawn, limbs stretching every which way under the covers as his joints click.

Shouto props up on his elbow, twisting in place to reach and unplug his phone. He blinks away the blurriness hemming his vision and squints at the stack of messages from Enigmail right at the top of his notifications.

InsertNameHere ▻ Oh shit. Hero Shouto donated double the amount of what Endeavor gave and he couldn’t even be here tonight. That’s hilarious. Can that guy get any hotter ▻ I didn’t intend for that to be a pun. ▻ These cocktails are becoming suspiciously easy to drink. ▻ You’re probably sleeping like a good boy but I miss you. Wake up! ▻ Have you ever had feelings for someone you’ve never met

The loose tongued messages stop there, at around one o’clock in the morning. Then there’s a seven hour jump to only ten minutes ago.

▻ Oh my god. Please ignore all of that. And then kill me.

Hardly awake, sleepsand still crusty at the corners of his eyes, Shouto’s mind reels as he considers pinching himself. He doesn’t know which part to focus on. Your apparent—and unknowing—attraction to him as a public figure or the implication that you had feelings for Sooba.

But you’re obviously embarrassed. So he bites back a smile and starts with something simple.

Sooba ▻ Good morning to you too ▻ Remember to drink water and take some bufarin.

Sitting upright with legs hung over the bed, Shouto clicks out to his text app by way of distraction. There’s another photo from Midoriya. This time it’s just him. Speckled light glitters along his cheeks, expression beaming as the hero holds a piece of sashimi in front of his pink face. Shouto heart reacts to the text.

InsertNameHere ▻ Send more Nori

He chuckles, sleepy. That makes known Nori’s absence. Strange, he muses. She is usually the one to wake him. Rather than search he scrolls through his albums to find a photo you hadn’t seen yet. It was taken a few months ago. He’d slipped his camera under her chin and pressed the shutter when she looked down, looming over the viewer with a dumbfounded look.

Sooba ▻ [IMG_142]

After a few minutes with no response, assuming that you had accepted his bribe and sought out some painkillers, Shouto braced against his bedside table and stood, phone in hand. Every muscle in his body felt like wet sand, held together by too tight skin. This morning, though, the incessant ache that beat alongside his heart was gone.

Walking still felt as though he was wading through molasses but strength was steadily returning to his physique.

The floor is cool under the soles of his feet as they shuffle down the hallway. There’s a noise in the kitchen that gives Shouto pause. A voice, hushed yet high pitched voice, cooing like someone might to an infant.

He drops into an ungainly defensive stance, pyjama bottoms and all. Worst case scenario they at least hang low on his hips, loose around his legs, leaving room for flexible movement. He rounds the corner without a sound.

And relief beats like a drum in his chest.

Yaoyorozu meets his gaze from the kitchen island where one hand is petting a very happy Nori, sipping from a glass of water with the other. Her face is bare, shadows soft under her eyes, hair pulled haphazardly into a low ponytail as if she had just rolled out of bed and rushed here. Creati in a bleach stained hoodie and leggings. The press would have a field day.

The sight brings a small smile to his face. Their schedules have been misaligned for months. It’s good to see her—if only her expression had not then darkened. “Todoroki Shouto,” she says with all the authority of an older sibling, “What on earth was that text last night? You had me worried sick”.

“Text?” he parrots dumbly, looking to check his phone.

InsertNameHere ▻ Painkillers acquired. Thank you Nori ▻ I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night.

“I let myself in with the key you gave me. I hope that was alright,” she continues, quiet and apologetic now. He skims over your reply and switches to check his text app. Sure enough the last thing he sent to her was an ambiguous plea for help.

“Of course it’s alright,” he replies, regarding her with a meaningful look to cover for how sheepish he truly feels. “I gave you the key because you’re always welcome here”.

Yaoyorozu smiles on the end of an exhale, idle hands smoothing down Nori’s cheeks. “Of course,” she echoes, examining his form closely now her anxiety is assuaged. Over him comes the muted awareness that he’s being judged. “How about we go on a short walk for once, since I’m here? The weather is quite pleasant”.

Shouto steps forward with mouth downturned, “Momo, I assure you I’m fine. You don’t need to walk me like a dog,” he says, wincing thereafter at his bluntness. She only hums.

“When was the last time you went anywhere?”

Very uselessly he replies, “I go places”.

Yaoyorozu’s potential to lead and assert had never escaped him, not even in his teenage years, and it was something he staunchly admired her for. But never has he resented his own affinity for compliance more than he does the moment she ignores his pouting and tells him to finish his morning gait training and get changed.

Dressed casually and statuesque in the centre of his living room, left leg lifted to mimic a flamingo, Shouto’s limbs shake far less than previous days. He can hold his phone while he balances now, too. You haven’t sent any new messages. Probably waiting for him to assure you that he isn’t upset, but even so he’s a smidge disappointed.

Sooba ▻ I’m here. A friend appeared in my kitchen. ▻ You don’t need to apologise for anything, I wasn’t uncomfortable. I've received worse drunk texts I assure you.

He switches to his right leg and chews the inside of his cheek. Facing villainy was far less daunting than navigating his feelings.

▻ I thought it was cute.

That’s about as brave as he felt today.

Yaoyorozu resurfaces from the coat closet with a jacket in hand and a pep in her step. There’s something else coiled around her wrist. Nori’s cat leash, red and attached to a blue harness, matching Shouto’s hero colours.

“Can we bring her along?” she asks, bouncing in place. Upon recognising the leash Nori makes her opinion known, releasing a drawn out yowl. “Oh please, Shouto”.

Nori didn’t regularly enjoy walking but she had been trained to do so from a young age. She was peculiar and picky, and Shouto trusted her to let him know if ever she wanted anything—something she never failed to do.

“Are you sure?” he murmurs, bending to tap her nose. It wrinkles, a stray tooth flashing between her lips. “If you get tired I won’t carry you”.

Nori blinks. A lie and they both know it.

Shouto sighs, defeated. “Okay. She hasn’t wanted to in a while so I can’t really deny her”.

“Wonderful,” Yaoyorozu breathes, handing him his jacket before undoing the harness and crouching to slip Nori’s paws through one by one. “We can grab a warm drink to go from the cafe downstairs and talk”.

Shucking the jacket on and flattening the collar, Shouto dithers in the genkan with his crutches nearby. He tucks the wayward strands of hair into a knitted hat and loops his mask around his ears. The scar couldn’t be helped but atleast this way a majority of people would not think to look twice.

They leave the apartment together, all three. In the short time it takes to step out of the building's lobby you still haven’t replied. He shoves his free hand in his pocket, fingers clasped around his phone in case it vibrates.

The establishment across from Shouto’s home has been open for longer than he’s been alive. An elderly couple named Pierre-Louis and Tsutomu run the place. The two men moved back to Japan decades ago to care for Tsutomu’s sick mother, and with Pierre-Louis’ incredibly unusual coffee quirk ‘Bean Boost’, opening a cafe seemed the right route to take.

Since moving here they’ve endeared themselves to Shouto. If they see him on his way to work Tsutomu will often rush to offer him a takeout cup. This morning is no different.

“Mon petit chou!”

Tsutomu slides open the walk up window and calls his name, beckoning them closer. The breeze tousles the short grey curls around his ears. Shouto’s heart near stops when the older man leans out to greet Nori as she stretches upward and almost loses balance. “Tsutomu-san, please be careful,” he says.

“I am still rather spry, young man. Don’t worry about me,” he returns happily, gaze moving to Yaoyorozu when he rights himself. “Lovely to see you again, Momo-chan. Have you come to rescue our prince from his cave?”

Indignant, Shouto grumbles, “I wish you would all stop acting as though I’m a hermit. I haven’t been stuck indoors that long”.

The two level him with a look of doubt. Tsutomu gently pinches his cheek and rubs a thumb over the swell above the mask. “Your pallor betrays you, Shouto. Let the sun kiss you more, no? We worry”.

“Tout va bien?” another voice interjects. Pierre-Louis squeezes up next to his husband, ignoring his disgruntled noise, and brightens when he sees Shouto on the other side. “Mon chou, you’ve emerged! And with two beautiful girls at your side”.

Yaoyorozu muffled a laugh while Nori busied herself chewing on the nearby grass, leash never pulling too far. “Pierre-Louis,” Shouto murmurs, unable to keep the fond lilt out of his voice. “It’s good to see you both”.

“And you,” he beams. The wrinkles by his eyes deepen. Shouto never met his grandparents but he thinks perhaps this is the closest he’ll get. “Are you going anywhere special?”

“We’re just taking a walk, Pierre-Louis. I thought it might be nice to get a warm drink for the journey,” Yaoyorozu spoke warmly and nudged his side. “Where better than here?”

“Bien sûr! Will that be one earl grey and one green tea?”

Shouto nods at her questioning glance, “Loose leaves today, please”, he adds.

Pierre-Louis disappears to make their drinks, shortly returning with two takeout cups, steam pluming softly from the mouth. Shouto swaps his crutch to his right side and accepts the green tea with his left hand, heat seeping through the cardboard sleeve.

“How much will it be—?”

“Nonsense,” Tsutomu interrupts with a sudden switch to English. He shakes his finger, silencing any protest, and his husband gives a resolute nod in support. “Take it, mon chou. Call it a family discount”.

Shouto bids them a dazed goodbye, leaving the walk up window; a lump in his throat that he tries to wash down with hot heat, tongue impervious to the temperature. “They’re very sweet. I’m glad you have them,” Yaoyorozu muses. “What is it they call you? ‘Chou’?”

“Mon petit chou,” he repeats clumsily, accent slightly gawky. “I asked Aoyama a while ago and he told me it means ‘my little cabbage’”.

Yaoyorozu pauses and Nori continues ahead, leaping up onto a nearby half wall with her tail hooked high. She pounces on a crack between the bricks, blissfully unaware of the nearby traffic, trying to eat a ladybug.

“My little cabbage?”

Shouto hums, squinting up at the early sun, rising in a blanket of pale blue and mottled grey clouds. The air is refreshingly cool. “Apparently it’s something French parents call their children,” he shrugs, as though he were not then warmed from the inside out at the reminder that they truly did see him as one of their own.

“That’s lovely,” she says, slowing to match his pace. He’s not tired so much as he is enjoying the morning dew. They follow a familiar path. Turning down a hidden narrow walkway that leads to a neighbourhood park. Nori’s chitters fill the spaces left by comfortable silence.

Yaoyorozu suggests sitting at one of the picnic tables. Tall trees flanked the area on either side, columns rising to create a weave of foliage that shrouded them in gold. The old wood is cold under his thighs. Nori hops up onto the bench, ears flat to her head, and hisses at a dog across the way which hasn’t even noticed her presence.

“So,” Shouto glances over toward Yaoyorozu as she speaks. Her arms are settled on the tabletop, fingers curled around the disposable cup and swirling the liquid inside. “Are you going to tell me what you were panicking about last night?”

He picks at the cardboard sleeve, twisting it, and supposes this was inevitable. Slipping down his mask, Shouto brings the tea to his lips in distraction, grasping for a way to articulate his situation without simply saying: “I have feelings for my anonymous online friend”.

In the end he realises there really isn’t any other way.

Yaoyorozu listens intently, as he expected she would. Of all his well intentioned friends Shouto knew she’d be the most open to his reasoning. Her expression visibly softens while he wrings his hands and rambles about the palpable connection that he first attributed to his own loneliness—

Rambles about you; you, the one now carried with him everywhere, the presence weaving his days into tapestry; you, accepting of his random thoughts, giving of your own; you, unintentional charm and bad jokes and sharp wit; you, faceless and voiceless, the one to receive first and last thought.

He expels his fears. Concerns of who you really are. Of what you might think upon learning his identity—if you wouldn’t like him anymore, or if his own feelings might change after meeting you offline, and if that makes him a terrible, shallow person.

Then he mentions the photo from the Herokind event and her head cocks in interest. “May I see?” she asks. Shouto murmurs his agreement and pulls his phone out from his pocket.

You’ve messaged him.

InsertNameHere ▻ Appeared? Like, teleported?? ▻ I’m glad we’re ok. I would miss you otherwise. ▻ But you can’t know I’m cute. You’ve never seen me lol

Shouto is typing back with unfounded confidence before he realises it.

Sooba ▻ I don’t need to see you to know that.

Then his eyes flicker to Nori, staring up at him clad in her Shouto themed harness, lip caught on her scraggle tooth. He takes a quick picture. Examining it before sending, he notices Yaoyorozu’s slender hands in the background, and wonders if you might be jealous.

He scoffs inwardly at his own childishness and sends the photo.

▻ Not teleported hah, just came in with a spare key. We are out walking now.

“Sorry—I just wanted to reply first,” Shouto clears his throat and presses his phone into her now proffered hand. Given without question.

Something flickers in her expression at your photo; it’s a brief shift that flies over her gaze like a shadow. Her thumbs pinch and part on the screen as she zooms in. “I was there for a few hours last night,” she says. “I recognise this outfit. Would it not be easier to check the list of attendants?”

“…That doesn’t feel fair,” he admits soberly. “I know that’s silly”.

“It’s not silly,” she affirms with a small smile, fingers now moving as she types. “You are aware of your position. You have the resources to find them and presumably they do not. Of course it seems unfair”.

It’s testament to their friendship that he feels no need to check what she’s doing. Her brows furrow slightly, then arch into her hairline, eyes brightening. Pleased, Yaoyorozu locks the device and hands it back.

“What did you do?”

“Don’t worry. I didn't do anything untoward,” she replies. “But I do know who you’re talking to now”.

Shouto’s fingers flex around his phone. “You do?” he breathes, incredulous. Just like that?

Yaoyorozu nods, lending her attention to Nori. “I don’t have a name. But if you want to find them I think you’ll want to speak to Bakugo-kun”.

“Bakugo…?” Shouto echoes.

“I believe your friend may work for him,” she clarifies. Ah. The clamouring in his head comes to a halt. In hindsight it’s clear. Your nicknames make sense now.

“I’ll think about it,” he swallows, bringing his tea to his face for another sip. He finds it tepid and warms it again with his quirk. Yaoyorozu doesn’t push.

They spend the hour catching up on the things Shouto has missed in the weeks he’s been absent, and the weeks prior. Midoriya’s claims of him being a workaholic become a reality he can’t outrun. Tea finished, Shouto takes both cups and disposes of them in the recycling bin. Yaoyorozu stands from the picnic table with Nori cradled to her breast—Nori stares back at him, smug—and they make their way back to his apartment.

“Shouto,” she coaxed, now standing outside the tall glass doors leading to the lobby. Nori’s claws sink into the collar of his jacket as she’s passed to him. He takes her leash from Yaoyorozu, bunching it up; and she covers his enclosed fist with her hand.

“Go for it,” she tells him, giving a firm squeeze. “I’m rooting for you. Just be safe”.

Stepping back into his apartment, his cheeks are warm and his limbs are trembling. You’ve buzzed inside his pocket three times.

InsertNameHere ▻ Oh my god. How can such a perfect creature exist? And her harness! Shouto colours? ▻ I hope you’re having fun. <3 ▻ You know, you never answered my question from last night

“You don’t think I’m hopeless, do you Nori?” Shouto asks the thin air—Nori has already scrambled toward the nearby shoebox, bunny kicking at the corner as she chews. He sighs.

Yaoyorozu’s encouragement rings loud in his ears while he replies.

Sooba ▻ Yes. I think I’ve had feelings for a person I’ve never met.

And it feels like a confession.

Shouto sees the week come to an end before he finds enough strength, physically and mentally, to visit Bakugo’s agency.

Your conversations have evolved. They carry a flirty undertone now, the verbal toeing of the line that makes his heart pitter patter. You send pictures throughout the day. Always angled away from your face. Swathes of skin. A pen between your fingers. Stacked paperwork and an empty coffee cup. The burgeoning skies on your walk home. Comfortable at home, your legs crossed over the other, a fluffy slipper hanging at the end of your foot.

He never knew so much thought had to go into making a photo appear candid, effortless. At one point he purposefully shuffled his workout shorts lower on his hips and spent the remainder of the afternoon mortified with his head deep between the couch cushions.

Liking another person is humiliating. He feels exposed, like a flesh wound that you won’t stop prodding.

InsertNameHere ▻ [IMG_412] ▻ I hope you have a good day!

You’re sitting at your desk, presumably. A slide knot bracelet hangs loose around your wrist. Hand held out over the mouse and keyboard, you’ve pinched your thumb and finger—smudged with black in—together to make a heart shape. It’s cute. You’re cute. He files the pose away for any later run-ins with paparazzi. His PR has been getting on about trying harder when they photograph him for months.

Shouto’s body rocks with the train car as it careens down the tracks and readjusts his grip on his crutch. He smiles behind his mask, sinking into the confines of his hood which he has pulled over his cap. There are eyes on him today. It can’t be helped in such close quarters. But they’re uncertain—too afraid to bother him and be wrong about his identity.

Sooba ▻ You too :) ▻ Remember to take breaks. I read that you should spend five minutes away from your screen every hour.

InsertNameHere ▻ You have to stop making me smile at work. My coworkers think I have a secret husband or something.

Sooba ▻ I promise to send you off with a homemade bento tomorrow morning.

InsertNameHere ▻ And a kiss.

Shouto grabs the nearby pole as he is almost knocked on his feet. Passengers board, others depart, and his heart hammers in his throat like a fist.

Sooba ▻ A kiss?

You’re still typing a reply when Shouto hears the hesitant evocation of his name. It’s timid and hushed, belonging to a person trying to restrain their excitement. She covers her mouth with a gasp when he meets her eyes.

“It is you,” she bubbles. A metallic taste pervades the static air around her, short hair wiggling on end as if it were responding directly to her excitement; behaviour unbefitting of a typical reporter, he notes.

Your text box jumps onto the screen in his peripheral vision, bumping up the chat. He jolts and angles the phone away from her just to be safe.

InsertNameHere ▻ Yeah! A bento box and a kiss to get me through the day, obviously. As my husband.

There are three others a few feet away, huddled together beside a pillar and abuzz with energy. Mild dread churns in his stomach. Definitely not a reporter, then. “If you have a moment…” the young woman spares a glance over her shoulder and her friends excitedly encourage her forward. “Um. Would you maybe be interested in—”

“No,” Shouto replies. The young woman winces at his tone. Ah. She’s embarrassed now. He really should make a habit of lying in consideration for other people's feelings. Fuyumi did mention that, though not in as many words. Before her face can crumple further he continues, “I’m very sorry, that was rude of me. I’m in a bit of a hurry”.

Her relief is palpable, near contagious. Expression softened with understanding she folds her hands against her stomach and ducks into a slight bow. “Of course, I understand,” she says. Somehow it makes him feel worse. “And—I’m glad you’re well, Shouto-san. We’re all wishing you a complete recovery”.

Gratitude bubbles inside him. He smiles, pressing a finger over his mask, and her complexion turns a bright shade of pink. She nods in understanding, scurrying to her friends.

Shouto departs the train without disruption. The conductor takes stock of his gait and the crutch at his side, offering to lay out the ramp, but he politely refuses, stepping onto the platform with ease. He feels good; closer to his other self, the one before his muscles were run through a metaphorical centrifuge.

Sooba ▻ Obviously. ▻ I suppose I can add ‘house husband’ alongside ‘Nori’s dad’ on my list of occupations now.

Blast Zone isn’t far, a fact for which he’s grateful. Bakugo insisted on rooting himself in the centre of the city, right in the spot where all transport routes seemed to meet; there stood the symbol of victory’s headquarters, imposing in the skyline.

According to journalists at PowrStruct magazine The Blast Zone agency is an ode to modern architecture. A steel frame structure surrounded by reinforced concrete, an outer coating embossed with a texture that gives the award winning building the fragile appearance of having been meticulously glued back together while simultaneously being both blast proof and earthquake proof. Shouto cares not for design in general. He does, however, steal a mini Dynamite themed pen from the front desk while he’s waiting to be signed in.

There’s a thin chain attached to the cap with a Chibi Bakugo hung on the end. Sue him.

“He’ll see you now, Shouto-san,” the receptionist states, pupil-less eyes blinking back at him. Shouto tucks the pen into his sleeve, feeling foolish and somewhat nervous. “Head on up to the office on the twelfth floor. He knows you’re on your way”.

Shouto clears his throat. “Thank you,” he says, weakness in his knees that has nothing to do with his nerves. The Ingenium handle pads cushion his palm as he braces onto his crutches, supporting him toward the nearby lift. There are eyes on his back as he goes. They’re heavy, lingering like physical touch. Something in him spoils at the unnecessary pity.

The lift remains mercifully empty. He presses the twelfth floor button and it glows green. The ride up is smooth, and quick. Double doors slide open onto a sprawling office space flooded with natural light. No one bothered to glance in Shouto’s direction as he gawked. If he remembered correctly this area was specifically for employees that worked closest to Bakugo. They’re all so nonplussed and focused. No nonsense. He likes that.

“Loser,” Bakugo grunts. He appeared from thin air, standing aside with arms crossed over his chest, eyeing Shouto’s stiff form with suspicion. “What the fuck are you doing here? You’re still on leave”.

Shouto makes a noncommittal noise, inwardly miffed. He straightens his posture and takes more of his own weight. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. Maybe I missed you,” he says. Bakugo’s expression suddenly soured, as though he swallowed a lemon, mouth thin against his teeth.

Amusing as it is, acknowledging the disconnect aloud makes him truly accept the distance he had put between himself and his friends; how he’d worked too hard, untied himself from the tangle of their lives and ended up isolated.

“Nori told me to say ‘hi’ by the way”.

Bakugo sweetens. “She like that cardboard house I sent you?”

“She already destroyed it,” Shouto admits. And Bakugo laughs, irritation split by a crooked grin.

“Atta girl,” he nods in approval, turning on his heel and starting toward a pair of towering doors. “Oi. You comin’? Or are you going to stand there all damn day?

Dynamite’s office is anything but corporate. Professional, yes, but it’s also so plainly personal in a way that screams Bakugo. A setup reconfigurable for days that he can’t sit still, a folding treadmill under his large mahogany desk to keep him moving. Bakugo works better on his feet, something Shouto knows well.

Built in shelves line the accent wall, filled with framed pictures of friends and family, newspaper clippings and awards. There are even fan creations—mostly from his debut era, when being favoured felt far more significant, but Shouto finds it sweet all the same.

Walking ahead of him, Shouto approaches the desk. Bakugo lingers for a beat to holler something out the door before returning to his desk.

Two consult chairs face the head office chair opposite. Lowering into one of them, Shouto props his crutch up and takes his phone out of his pocket. Ever hopeful, he unlocks it, opens Enigmail and refreshes the chat list. There are new messages from a few other people he added in the beginning, but nothing from you. He tries not to sigh too obviously.

“What’s got you all fuckin’ mopey?" Bakugo leaned over to look down at the phone. Shouto hastily locked it and the explosive hero narrowed his eyes at the impassive veil Shouto pulled over his face.

“Nothing. How did the first Herokind event go?” he asks, fiddling with his newly acquired Dynamite pen. “Midoriya always sugar coats things for me”.

“Went fine. You didn’t miss anything,” Bakugo waves off. The leather office chair creaks as he leans back. “Boring as all hell since it was just the kickstarter. Food mild enough for a toddler to eat and too much alcohol. The auction will be more interesting. That birdbrain partner of yours was hilarious, though”.

“Hawks?” Shouto’s mouth twitches, failing to conceal his mirth. “What did he do this time?”

“Spent the night antagonising your shitty old man,” Bakugo pauses for a brief moment and rescinds his words. “Or aggressively flirting. Can't tell the difference with him”.

Shouto keeps his thoughts to himself on that one.

“Ended with Endeavor triggering all the sprinklers at the after party though,” Bakugo ends, eyes crinkled under the weight of his wicked grin. Shouto pursed his lips tight. Amusement huffed through his nose. He imagines his father standing in the middle of the room, pathetically soaked through, wisps of smoke rising from his put-out embers, and he laughs.

Bakugo looks rather pleased by the reaction. But then his gaze flickers over Shouto’s shoulder and his brow arches expectantly. “Did’ya need something? I shouted for the Egghead because I thought you were on your break”.

Shouto’s laughter dwindles as he follows Bakugo’s line of sight. His breath catches. An employee stands in the doorway peeking around a tall box of paperwork. Wide eyed as they examine him.

Wrapped around their wrist is a familiar sliding knot bracelet.

“I just—uh…”

His head spins. There’s a smudge on your finger where your pen's ink leaked, just like in the photo. Could this be you? You are—

“What the hell has gotten into everybody today,” Bakugo tuts, pushing up from his desk and striding over to receive the box himself. Your shoulders slump when you are relieved of the weight. Bringing your hands to your chest and massaging the joints.

—still looking right at him. Cute. He cannot help but think how cute you are, tripping over your words, losing your footing.

“Oi, maestro,” Bakugo clicks his fingers in your face and startles you out of your stupor. “Get it together. I need you with a clear head when that sleepy bastard from the HPSC gets here”.

You glare at Bakugo, “Mera-san is the least of your problems, Dynamite. Worry about yourself and the six unanswered emails I forwarded to you from the claims manager”.

You’re beautiful. And your voice, it’s so—his lips part, and he tries to speak, to interrupt Bakugo’s incessant teasing, but words fail him.

“Whatever. Those insurance claims are bullshit and you know it,” Bakugo mutters. He turns and moves to shove the box of paperwork beside the desk. His mouth downturns into a smirk when he stands and notices your attention drawn to Shouto once again.

“Is that everything? I’d appreciate it if you stopped gawking,” Bakugo drawls, a dry rasp to his taunting that seems to embarrass you further. Shouto isn’t sure he’s breathing. You’re right there. You’re within reach and he’s rooted to his chair.

“You’re such a—! Y’know what, no, I’m leaving now,” replying harshly you start toward the open door where you come to an abrupt halt. Shouto feels the distance like the pull of a leash. You incline your head into a short bow, losing strength in your voice as you acknowledge him, “Have a good afternoon, Shouto-san”.

Then you’re gone. He stares after you dumbly. In all the years he has worked in the hero industry Shouto has never been more thankful for choosing to make his given name his brand than he is now.

Bakugou falls heavily in his chair and sighs.

Shouto swallows, “Who was—”

“Don’t,” Bakugo stresses the command, as though telling a dog to heel. Shouto can feel the heat behind his pointed glare. Undeterred, his eyes linger after you, stuck on the spot where you once stood, heart beating like a hummingbird’s wing.

“I mean it, Halfie. Run off the only competent PA I’ve ever had with your pisspoor flirting and I will kill you,” Bakugo barrels on. There’s no true malice but it comes through gritted teeth, like he has resigned himself to the impending stupidity. Because Shouto is already looking back at him with that small, impish curl to his lips.

“I’m not that terrible at flirting,” he says.

“Making eye contact for three uninterrupted minutes is not flirting,” Bakugo scoffs.

Shouto hums. “And what is? Pulling their pigtails for ten years?”

“Watch it,” Bakugo grouses, bottom lip jutting. He kicks the leg of Shouto’s chair and he laughs; he’s missed this.

Hoping to get back on track then, Shouto asks, “Will you be attending the charity auction, then?”

The other man grunts an affirmative. “I’ve put some memorabilia and shit up to be sold. Sparky somehow convinced Eijirou to auction himself off for a date,” Bakugo snorts and gives an amused shake of his head. “I’m willing to bet he’ll rake in at least ten million yen. Minimum”.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Shouto agrees. Kirishima had grown a lot since graduation all those years ago. Pair a stocky build with a big hearted guy like him and everyone is tripping over themselves to get a piece. “Is he nervous that he won’t make much?”

Bakugo clicks his teeth, interlocking his hands across his midsection and getting comfortable. “He really hasn’t got a fucking clue. The HPSC schmuck I’ve got to talk to today has already suggested extra security in case certain high profile guests get resentful,” he says. Crimson peeks through narrowed eyes, considering, calculating. “Are you gonna go? You’re looking steady enough”.

The last Bakugo had seen of him was directly after the incident—crumpled into the fetal postion and involuntarily spasming with six second intervals. Unable to speak, to walk, to turn his head. Worst case scenario presented on scene was that he could lose the ability to function at all, and Shouto had been thrown into a pit of depression so oppressive that he withdrew from himself all together.

There’s an underlying relief in Bakugo’s question that comforts him in ways he wasn't aware he’d been seeking. Pleased, Shouto drags his crutch between his thighs and twists at the padding around the handle. “I’ll be in attendance. I plan on bidding on a few things. David Shield’s original design sketches maybe,” he admits. “…Will ‘maestro’ be there?”

Bakugo seems to parse the response carefully, as if it cracked open a hole into Shouto’s psyche. “Izuku is shooting for those, you know. I’m the one that’s gotta deal with him cryin’ if he loses”.

“I know,” Shouto’s mouth splits in a wry, intentional smile. “If I’m not outbid then I’m happy to give him whatever I win”.

“Shill bidding? Ha. Izuku never believes me when I tell him you’re secretly a dick,” Bakugo smirks. A thought visibly crosses his mind. He props his elbow on the arm of his chair, chin resting in his palm and considering Shouto closely. “…My PA will be there for the auction. Working. So if you show me up—”

“I won’t,” Shouto interjects.

“—I will see you to the pearly gates myself,” Bakugo continues, unperturbed. There’s no true malice to his tone, moreso fond resignation, and Shouto’s chest bubbles with affection for his hard headed friend.

“That’s nice of you,” he says sincerely.

“Get fucked. You want an update on the cases we opened this week or did you seriously come here just to annoy me?”

“To annoy you, mostly,” Shouto ducks away from the hand that swiped at him. “Hawks forwarded me the arrest report. Tremor ended up going for a plea deal?”

“Yeah. Sold out the extras that helped him gather the hostages,” a forceful click of the keyboard; Bakugo slaps the spacebar to wake his monitor and makes clear his disapproval. “They went too fuckin’ easy on him,” he sneers. “Deserved a longer sentence”.

“As long as they’re off the streets,” Shouto muses. He isn’t one to hold a grudge against villains who’ve harmed him, but he can understand his friends' frustration. Had it been Bakugo or Midoriya, Shouto too wouldn’t be so quick to accept this outcome.

The gentle light flooding through the office windows recedes a fraction as a dense cloud covers the sun. His visit to the Blast Zone is but a blip of time, cut short by the foreboding ring from Bakugo’s emergency pager. He’s up and moving immediately, routine woven into him like muscle memory, and Shouto can’t help feeling jealous.

Under the door to his office, Bakugo clears his throat. He cocks his head toward the impending rain, “You need me to have someone drive you home?” And appears to regret it right away as Shouto smiles up at him, touched by the suggestion.

“No, thanks but I’ll be fine,” he waves off. Bakugo departs with a grunt, demanding he take an umbrella from the receptionist, because who doesn’t check the weather before they leave the house. The thud of his work boots reverberate off the walls as he disappears around a sharp corner, and Shouto shifts in the residual silence.

He takes out his phone as he pushes upright on his crutch; a habit rather than necessity. You haven’t messaged him since before your paths crossed—though you wouldn’t know that. He sighs. A niggling guilt has burrowed into his chest but it remains largely outweighed by his impatience.

Employees greet him on his short journey to the lift he arrived in. Bowing their heads, evoking his name with appreciation and awe while he’s scanning the space for signs of you. It’s a fruitless affair. Coming up short he steps inside, frown etched into his brow, and presses the ground floor button.

The speaker alerts him that the doors are about to close. He turns on his heel, leaning a hand on the support bar. Looking up from his shoes his eyes fall on your figure. You’ve stepped out from one of the closed off rooms, thumb tapping away at the phone in your hand. Shouto swallows, watching his own with trepidation.

Sensing a heavy gaze your eyes flicker to meet him at the last second, contact through the crack right as it shuts. He can hardly think. If this were a scene in Quirky Hearts he thinks he might just cast aside his dignity and sprint up the fire escape to confront you. The mere idea has heat simmering under his skin; it makes him want to fold himself into singularity. Shouto, a top five hero, a sword without ire.

Waiting dutifully, the receptionist hands him an umbrella from behind the staff desk. He squints at her name tag, muttering “Thank you, Akiyama-san” while he tucks the umbrella under his arm, deigning to mention the murky blueish blush that floods her skin, those pupil-less eyes shimmering. Shouto pulls his mask up over his nose, breath warming his cheeks, and takes a moment to observe the street.

Throngs of people scurry along the pavements to get away from the unforgiving chill. Raindrops can become a thousand paper cuts when the wind wills it. Afternoon starters amble into the lobby with wet shoulders. In his departure nobody so much as looks his way.

Sooba ▻ Hope you didn’t forget an umbrella today. Stay warm.

His thumb stopped mid-air, right above the “send” button. Sparing a lasting glance to the upper floors, Shouto quickly presses it, pockets his phone and opens up the umbrella. Stepping into the storm white noise fills his ears, tapping harshly on the PVC canopy over him.

Shouto tugs his jacket closer to his chest. The pavements are soaked, water fed into the uprooted cracks. He threads through the moving bodies back toward the station. With the streets overcast he feels better concealed.

A train is already waiting at the platform, decorated in yellow. The colour identifies it as a slow running train, taking the local stops route rather than the rapid one. He hides in his collar and stands in the corner of the carriage, umbrella collapsed and hooked over his wrist.

Six stops later—rather than three—and Shouto is closer to home. In the time it took to reach his street the rain had thinned out, now a sparse sun shower as the clouds pushed eastward.

Nori yells accusingly the very second his key slots into the door. He turns the lock and pushes it open, holding out his foot to keep her from rushing past. “I know, I know. I’m sorry sweet girl,” he scratched her head while bent to line up his shoes. “I missed you too. Bakugo said ‘hi’”.

She mewls and circles in place on her delicate paws, flicking her tail at him. Shouto takes it as forgiveness. “I think I met someone special today,” he recites to her, “The one I told you about…”

Stopping in the middle of his warm apartment, Shouto becomes unbearably aware of how damp his clothes are. He fishes his phone and wallet out from his pockets and sets them on the kitchen island before padding toward the bathroom.

A thorough rinse and long soak later, Shouto sprawls himself across his couch, phone laid on his chest and arm hung loosely over the edge while Nori plays with his fingers. She clings to his forearm as he cups her full belly, lazily dragging her back and forth across the floor.

He’s sipping on the mouth of his water bottle, mindlessly watching as Aki-or-something begs for Saeko-or-other to take him back after going on a date with another contestant, when your messages come through on Enigmail.

InsertNameHere ▻ Guess what happened today ▻ Saw Pro Hero Shouto at work. ▻ I think he might hate me? lol

Shouto inhales sharply, choking on his mouthful of water. Tears prickle behind his eyes as his diaphragm spasms, and he tries to catch his breath, fist thudding at his chest. Oscillating between mortification and delight—it really had been you.

Sooba ▻ Why would you think he hates you?

InsertNameHere ▻ I left an awful impression. And he looked at me like this (⊙＿⊙’) the whole time.

Heat burns at his nape; embarrassment spilling over into every crevice of his body. The air around him distorts and he exhales, steam curling from his lips. Nori watches on from the floor in fascination, sparing no sympathy. Maybe Bakugo had a point.

Sooba ▻ Maybe that’s just his face.

InsertNameHere ▻ Maybe… ▻ It is a pretty face though. Prettier in person.

Shouto feels all the air deflate from his body. He sinks into the couch, head lolling against his shoulder as he turns to press a grin into the cushions, gripped by a sudden rush of endorphins. It had been you. You’re real. More importantly, you are attainable.

Now did he want to do anything about it?

Sooba ▻ You think so??

The typing dots bounce along the chat room border as you reply.

InsertNameHere ▻ I know so. I was there. Beautiful even when he is staring right through me (￣ロ￣lll)

The memory of you speaking his name echoes like a broken record. He has yet to tire of it. Though he’s lightheaded and hazy, your features are still clear in his mind. The sure fire in your eyes, your sharp tongue and your pouty lips. A slow, warm tension trickles into his gut, swooping in anticipation and breathless longing as he imagines the face you might make if he touched you.

Sooba ▻ That’s presumptuous. He was staring at you. Why wouldn’t he be

InsertNameHere ▻ I. ▻ You’re so unfair you know that ▻ If you were here I would

His breathing picks up ever so slightly.

Sooba ▻ What would you do with me

InsertNameHere ▻ Are we veering into sexting territory right now

Sooba ▻ Unintentionally.

Shouto shifts his hips. The movement pulls his sweatpants tighter around his hips and a familiar tingling rushes below his waist. When was the last time he touched himself? He brings the phone to his forehead for a moment of clarity, peering up at the screen through his eyelashes.

InsertNameHere ▻ Is this the part where we come full circle and you actually send me a dick pic

He tucks his chin, a lazy smile playing on his lips. The gentle throb in his briefs pulses throughout his body and he answers, reaching to squeeze himself through the fabric, just for relief.

Nori sneezes. He falters, reminded of her presence and overcome by the urge to cover up. Proverbial tail between his legs, Shouto retreats to the privacy of his bedroom, shutting the door with a quiet click. Evening filters in through the windows, mauve and rosy. He kneels on the bed and it yields under his weight, frame silent while he crawls to the headboard and reclines back, phone in hand.

▻ Shit, sorry. I was joking you don’t have to do that if you don’t want to

The message goes over his head. He opens the front camera and stares back at his flushed, disheveled face before tilting the device, angling it toward his body.

Frosted fingertips trail up his stomach and it jumps, laying the hem of his shirt across his chest. Down again to the fine dark hair below his belly button, goosebumps rising across skin, blood rushing to the surface. Hooks his thumb suggestively into his waistband, hand splayed across his hip, and takes the photo.

Sooba ▻ [IMG_628] ▻ I want to

Shouto. Shouto. Shouto. Abuzz with salacious apprehension he wonders what would it sound like above him? Under him? Breath knocked from your lungs, whining through the motions. He traces the outline of his clock. Covers his eyes with the crook of his arm and releases a shuddered breath, hips rising into the heel of his hand. A hand too big to be yours. Sweatpants pushed halfway down his thighs he pictured it anyway—you laid on your side, at his side, loose fist stroking him root to weeping tip.

Shouto thumbs at the head, smearing precum over his sensitive frenulum. Panting heavier, he squeezes his cock and wonders, would you tease him? Lick into his mouth and tell him not to be quiet?

The phone in his hand buzzes. Anticipation grips his heart. He almost drops it on his face when he squints up to read the screen.

InsertNameHere ▻ Fuck. You’re so gorgeous ▻ I can’t concentrate

Sooba ▻ You like it?

InsertNameHere ▻ I’ll show you how much ▻ [IMG_447]

Heat races through him. You’re in a loose tank top, touching yourself over pale boyshorts. The dark straps have fallen around your shoulders in an almost demure manner, collar slipping forward to reveal the soft cleavage of your chest. You’ve mirrored his position, albeit a little higher, enough for your mouth to be in frame. Wet and rouge, if he thinks hard enough he can imagine he left them kiss bitten.

Sooba ▻ I want to touch you

He’s desperate to know what you like. The way you want to be touched, how you might yield under his wandering hands. Patterns dance behind his eyelids as he reaches to knead his pecs, pinching the pert nipple with a breathy moan. He smooths over his abdomen, corded muscle tensing beneath the added sensation, arousal coiling hot in his belly.

InsertNameHere ▻ Touch yourself for me instead, yeah? ▻ Gonna think about you too

“Fuck,” he chokes. Shouto loses his phone amongst the sheets. Feet planted flat to the mattress, his knees spread until the waistband protests. “Please. Please. I’m so close,” he whispers to the image in his mind. His pace stutters, feverish as he fucks his fist. Your lips brush soft along the column of his throat to feel him swallow. He turns into the pillow, mouth parted for heaving breath.

“That’s it Shouto. So beautiful for me,” you’ll murmur, so at home in the crook of his body. Amidst the desperation you’ll straddle his thigh, rhythm synchronized, chests rising. Your hand—his hand—slips further, fingers curled to press up behind his balls. He’s on fire. “Cum for me, baby. Let me see you cum”.

Shouto’s head tips back into the plush of his pillow, every muscle clenched. Pleasure rockets through him. His cock twitches in his grasp. He cums with a strung out moan, breaking into short, wet pants as he catches his breath.

Riding the gentle aftershocks, his arm falls heavily to the side and hits his bedsheets with a quiet thud. The smell of old petrichor blows into his room with the draft draws his attention to the darkened window. Streaks of gold sunlight peak between the buildings across the street where it settles under the horizon.

The stickiness between his fingers is difficult to ignore. Drying steadily on his chest. Reality returns to him slowly as he stares at his soiled hand. After cleaning himself up with the wipes in his bedside table, Shouto tugs up his sweatpants and rubs at the pink splotches leading up his throat. With clarity comes a vague haze of shame and he is loudly alone; something vibrates and he is anything but lonely. He lifts his head, rummaging through the sheets to find his phone.

InsertNameHere ▻ Want you to feel good ▻ You there baby? ▻ Sooba? ▻ Hm. That’s not the sexiest of names

Shouto laughed through his nose. Endeared by your awkward jump from flirting to nervously making up for a perceived misstep.

Sooba ▻ sorry can’t multitask ▻ shouldnt make fun of your house husbands name

Exiting his bedroom is uncomfortably close to a wall of shame. He drags his feet; gait unsteady for far nicer reasons than a near career ending injury. Nori has acquired his spot on the couch, retaining warmth in his absence. She observes him, all knowing.

InsertNameHere ▻ No capitalised letters? Punctuation? What have you done with my Sooba lol ▻ How are you feeling?

Sooba ▻ really good. sleepy

He wanders to the kitchen and dithers over his next message, leaning his forearms on the cool countertop. This fleeting, unintended conversation could change everything and that fact is starting to nag at him.

▻ what about you

InsertNameHere ▻ I feel really good. And sleepy <3

The implication is not lost on him. He chews his bottom lip, flustered at just how pleased that makes him.

The next burst of chat bubbles appear in an instant, one after another. Typed hastily as though to outrun your own apprehension.

▻ Can I ask you something? ▻ Did you mean it when you said you’d come to the event with me? ▻ I have a plus one. I want to see you. But you don’t have to

Shouto swallows. Tugged between elation and fear. You’ve become all he yearns for and you could be just that, his, yet he panics all the same. Heroism had consistently been his lacquered shield. An excuse for his self isolation that people had to begrudgingly accept. Working himself to the bone afforded the luxury of never having to dwell on it.

Exhaustion aside he was content with the humdrum life he hid behind. Before you, Shouto rarely wanted for anything. He had his family, and good friends, and a job that felt rewarding; it didn’t seem worth it to lay himself bare and be dissected on the off chance that someone new might love him.

Because hectic work and risks aside, he’s profoundly aware of the ghosts he has yet to conquer. That somewhere, there is something fundamentally different inside him that you might find disappointing.

Unthinkingly, Shouto grapples with the courage in him existing on the fringes and replies in much the same way you had.

Sooba ▻ I meant it. I want to see you too. ▻ I’d like to go with you ▻ Don’t worry about a plus one. I’ll meet you there

InsertNameHere ▻ Wow, okay. That was easier than I thought. I’m so excited ▻ And super nervous

As it turns out the impending date motivates Shouto like nothing before. Days pass without fault or interruption. The man-shaped dent in his couch rises without the constant weight. He sticks closely to the routine his physiotherapist drew up for him. Walks longer distances and soaks up the sun daily, to Tsutomu’s great delight.

Too wrapped up in his own coalesced anxiety and elation, he realises he hadn’t found it remotely odd that you hadn’t questioned his ability to get into the auction.

His train of thought is interrupted by a firm hand coming down on his shoulder. “Man of the hour!” A familiar sharp toothed grin blocks his vision. Shouto clenches under the sudden weight to keep himself upright as Kirishima gives him a shake, “We missed you around here. You’re looking good!”

The charity event is in full swing. An anticipatory lull permeates the atmosphere as the chosen guests, heroes and civilians alike, wait for the auction to finally begin. Shouto arrived fashionably late, as Mina called it, after spending nearly three hours on a group call with her, Yaoyorozu, and his sister.

The applause upon his entry had not been expected. His palms are still clammy.

Compared to Shouto's charcoal three piece suit, tailored to precision, Kirishima dons a charmingly loud burgundy blazer over a dark turtleneck, pulled together by a simple chain. The material is tight across his broad shoulders. “Thank you, Kirishima,” Shouto smiles. He looks him over, “You look good too”.

That signature grin grows weary. “You really think so?” Kirishima lowers his voice into a hush, tugging at the loose hair framing his face. “I wasn’t so sure about tying my hair back. What if nobody bids for me? I’m dying inside just thinking about it”.

Shouto turns away from the sea of vibrant clothing and chatter to pat his friend on the arm and level him with a serious look. “A lot of people are going to spend money on you tonight, Kirishima. But in the impossible event that they don’t I’ll bid on you myself,” he tells him. “We can go to Mythoscape and try that new rollercoaster”.

“Bro…” Kirishima’s eyes are wide and glassy. While Shouto expects the firm hug, he is mildly surprised by the long, dramatic kiss to his cheek. His breath smells faintly of white wine. “You’re the best,” he continues as he sets Shouto back on his feet. “But is it really okay for you to do that?”

A flash goes off. Shouto frowns. He scans the crowd and rubs away the wet mark left behind. Yaoyorozu catches his attention with a delicate wave from her place beside Kendo and Uraraka. “Why wouldn’t it be?” he asks, smiling back, yet distracted. You’re still nowhere to be found.

“Well,” Kirishima draws breath through his teeth. “Bakugo kinda told me about your crush on his PA,” whatever he sees pass over Shouto’s expression has him sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and scrambling to explain. “Nothing bad, man! You know he actually seemed pretty approving of it, in his own way”.

The evermoving mass of bodies sharpens around a few other familiar faces. Midoriya is excitedly gesticulating as he rambles to a visibly overwhelmed HSPC shareholder. Bakugo watches the interaction with no intention of concealing his amusement.

“I’m not sure about that,” Shouto rasps, narrowing his eyes at the man in question, like the pressure behind it might be enough to elicit his attention. Bakugo of all the people here would know where you are. The phone snug in his inside blazer pocket remains silent. A pout works its way onto his lips before he can stop it. “He said I’m bad at flirting”.

Kirishima stifles a laugh and clears his throat when Shouto directs the petulant glare to him. “You are a little bad at it. But only when you’re actually trying! And even then that’s part of what makes it charming, y’know?”

“No, I don’t know”.

“You’re the type to flirt without realising you’re doing it—or atleast people think you are, because you’re handsome and attentive and whatnot. But when you try it’s kinda obvious and bro, please stop looking at me like that,” Kirishima explains clumsily, tone pitching higher the longer he talks.

Shouto’s lips thin as he tries to suppress a smirk. He rights himself as Kirishima nudges his side, catching a smile of his own, “What I meant is you have a chance. And Bakubro thinks so too. He wants you to be happy”.

The sentiment warms him from the inside out. But it also makes apparent something trepid and cold in his gut. Regardless of his friends unfettered support there remains the real possibility that he will be rejected. That you will be disappointed or scared away by his status. That you could do as you please with the intimate parts of his life ‘Sooba’ gave you.

Scarier is the hope that you won’t.

“I’m going to get a drink,” Shouto announces, noticing Endeavor prowling around in his peripheral vision. Kirishima’s brow furrows, mouth parted in confusion, no doubt seeking to reassure him. “I’m okay, Kirishima. I just need something to do with my hands”.

“Alright,” the taller man murmurs. Shouto finds himself at the end of a gentle smile once more. “Make sure to say ‘hi’ to Denks if you see him. He misses you too”.

“I will,” Shouto nods, ducking away from the inexpressible tenderness that has clung to him since stepping into the hall. People part to allow him through. His left leg has already begun to feel weak, not enough to worry but enough to notice, and he hopes he can later blame his gait on the alcohol.

He reaches the bar and wrinkles his nose at the thick amalgamation of perfume, body odour and over-applied cologne. The bartender slides up to him. “Umeshu, please,” he says. “On the rocks”.

Another body settles beside him. He shifts to accommodate them but doesn’t look; too distracted as he inhales deeply through his nose and exhales long out his mouth to allay his beating heart. Pulling his phone out from his inside pocket, the screen lights up and he finds it void of messages.

After the… sexting, things had been fine. Better in a lot of ways. You both felt emboldened to truly act on your feelings. Sharing more pictures, secrets—though never your names—and laughter. It is disconcerting that you would now go silent.

The bartender sets his drink down and Shouto quietly gives his thanks, bringing it to his face, briefly caught in the soft glimmer, cubed ice submerged in liquid gold, tasting the sweet aroma at the back of his throat. He tips it back and drinks.

As the glass hits the surface once more, the person next to him softly asks, “Are you waiting on anyone?”

And his mouth goes dry.

You’re bracing on crossed arms, watching him closely. Speckled in the warm low light reflected on the bar, you are more beautiful than he remembers, and just as nervous. There’s an air of uncertainty about you that shifts as your eyes meet, faint but palpable, encouraged by what he can imagine is the wonder on his own face.

Shouto wets his lips. The plum taste lingers on his tongue. “…I might be,” he murmurs. You brighten at his reciprocation, a more charged kind of nervous—the kind that swoops low in your belly right before you take a leap.

“If I’m wrong don’t laugh and don’t tell Dynamite,” you turn to face him and smooth your hands over your hips. This allows him a better look at your attire. Silken fabrics that form gentle lines around the waist, loose but elegantly so, not in a way that the clothes wear you.

Your eyes dipped low, averted to avoid his stare. He cannot seem to direct it anywhere else. The auction has fallen away in its entirety. As far as Shouto is concerned there’s only you.

“It’s me. And you’re…Sooba?”

The tremble in your voice shrikes through him and it occurs to Shouto that you have always been the brave one.

He leans into your space, enjoying the way you quickly draw breath at his proximity, forced to meet his gaze. Rather than something remotely suave or cool, he dumbly asks, “You knew?”

Part of him wants to tuck his shoulders to his ears as you begin to laugh. They’re warm, undoubtedly red. Amusement is not at all what he prepared for. He thought this might all end up in his scrapbook memory, to be taken out and pined over now and then.

“Shouto-san with all due respect, you came to my workplace with your very recognisable crutches and stared at me like a deer in headlights”.

“Shouto,” he says.

Your laughter simmers, “Hm?”

“Just call me Shouto,” he tells you, equal parts relieved and embarrassed.

“Shouto,” you smile at him with a fondness that derails his thoughts. He has the vague urge to whine when it wanes. “I’m—I really am sorry I didn’t tell you. I swear I didn’t know until after you visited the agency. It all made sense after I looked up your socials and saw some old pictures of Nori”.

“It’s alright. I knew and didn’t say anything either,” Shouto inclines his head, abashed. Then with a sudden sharp sort of clarity, he continues, “So then you knew, when you asked for a dick—?”

Words evade him under the warm press of your hand as you quickly cover his mouth. You glance around the room, closer than before, and you don’t seem to realise. Cautious, he touches your waist; he puckers his lips to kiss your palm; he feels your stomach jump under the silky fabrics.

Your eyes darken, swallowed by pupil. “You’re a menace,” you simper, and reluctantly pull away. “Maybe we should talk about this somewhere with less…cameras”.

Umeshu abandoned, Shouto wraps an arm around your lower back and allows you to direct him through the crowd. You weave through the moving bodies like thread through a needle, at one point reaching behind to take his wrist, becoming his tether.

Bakugo meets his gaze from across the room. His eyes flit to you, widening in surprise. Shouto flashes a boyish grin before disappearing through the side door.

The door you choose next opens to a private bathroom. Shouto surges forward, taking you by the hips and crowding you against the bathroom counter, overcome by the need to feel everything that you are pressing into everything that is him.

He kicks the door behind him and settles in the clutch of your thighs as you scramble to balance on the marble edge. Your hands slide over his shoulders, splaying over each cheek. You’re both breathing heavily despite having done nothing at all.

“I said talk,” you remind him with a tremulous smile. Shouto knows you’re being playful. He apologises anyway; rests his head in the crook of your neck, letting the moment simmer, and you comb through his hair with your fingers. A shiver rolls down his spine.

“Did you know it was me? Before you came to the agency, I mean”.

He reclines from his crook to look at you. Eye level, silhouetted by the cheap bathroom luminescence. “When I saw you in there—and put it together I was so scared,” you continued.

“Scared?” he echoed with a frown, knuckles brushing your cheek.

“Not like that. I was scared of what you might think,” you turn into his caress and his pinched expression falls away. He can’t stop touching you and he can’t bring himself to be sorry about it. “I mean, I looked terrible that day, and you appeared out of nowhere and I wasn’t mad it was you. I was just…”

You swallow thickly, emotion swelling in your eyes. They’re crinkled at the corners. “You’re so big and bright. I didn’t want you to be disappointed”.

You were unaware of it—the profound cord you struck within him. How even in anonymity, your incorporeal fingers always seemed to find it. Even now, as you echo his own fears.

“Momo first mentioned you might work for Bakugo. I didn’t know before I saw you that day. I still wasn’t certain until tonight”. You peer at him through your lashes then, listening intently. He brings your foreheads together and tells you, “There is no way you could’ve disappointed me”.

“Oh? I could’ve been a villain”.

“My oldest brother was a villain,” he monotoned, wandering hands squeezing intermittently at your waist as though to make sure you’re still there. “My capacity for love and forgiveness knows no bounds”.

You snort. The sound is abrupt and the force knocks your skulls together. “Oh—ow,” he grins, insides melting. Together you dissolve into a warm fit of laughter.

“Hey, Shouto?”

He hums in acknowledgment, eyes fluttering as your thumb swipes over the red mark below his hairline. “I like you,” you murmur. “I like you so much it’s stupid”.

Plunged into an ice cold realisation, Shouto freezes to process your words. “You—like me?”

“Yeah?” you said it like he was dense, like it was clear all along. “I can’t help it when you’re so…yourself”

And isn’t that all he’s ever wanted? To be loved without pretense, without a winner. To be special to someone for no special reason.

“Oh,” he breathes. “Me too. I like you. I want—” his fingers flex at your hips, grounding. He blinks. “I don’t know your name yet”.

Affection colours your features. Shouto likes you best like this—sure of yourself, of his feelings for you. You recite your name. He repeats it endlessly in his mind and rolls it around his teeth. He calls to you even when you’re right in front of him.

“Can I kiss you now?”

“You were waiting?” you laugh, tucking his hair behind his ear. It’s such a novel thing but it makes something monumental swell in his chest. “Kiss me. I want you to”.

Given permission, Shouto traces the curve of your jaw with a bold shyness, from the sensitive skin below your ear to your chin. His finger hooks beneath. You’re lovely. He thinks he could spend an hour describing your demure half smile, how your lips yield under the light pressure of his thumb; your tongue darting out reflexively.

He shakes at the desire that fills him. He’s not used to it—this wanting. It feels like a thousand insatiable butterflies in his chest. Dipping into your magnetism, his heart beat faster and faster with the simple brush of your lips. He kissed you, innocent and honest, and then he kissed you again, licking the seam of your mouth, arms coiling around your middle as you cling to him.

You tip forward. Your thighs clench at his waist and drag him impossibly close. It brings you chest to chest. He tries to hold you steadfast as your hand wraps around his nape, softly scratching his scalp; he feels you smile against his lips when he shudders.

You break for air. Arousal shoots through him at your half moan, the sound tapering into a happy hum the instant his lips trail down your neck, tasting your pulse before making his way down to your exposed collar. He peppers kiss after kiss on every swathe of skin he can reach, sinking teeth into every little reaction you give him.

Big hands at your lower back arch your body into his. You yield, tension sapped from your limbs, grappling his shoulders to keep yourself from falling while you grind down on his lap. Shouto groans, grip slipping lower to cup your ass.

“We’re getting carried away,” you gasp between kisses. That alone was obvious. His cock strains uselessly in his suit pants. But the light glints tantalisingly along your mouth, swollen and wet with saliva. Shouto kisses you again so you won’t have to tell him to attend to his responsibilities.

A warm breath scores his cheek as you huff through your nose, nipping firmly at his lower lip. “I mean it. I am technically still at work,” you try again, voice lacking strength. “Dynamite will knock on every door in this building—don’t wrinkle your nose, you know I’m right”.

“Alright. I know,” he rasps, barely an exhale. It takes all his willpower to pull away. He steadies you on your feet, smoothing out the creases in your formal attire while you are quite pleased to simply watch on as he adjusts himself in his pants. “I’m glad my suffering is funny to you”.

“Don’t be dramatic,” you murmur, pecking the corner of his mouth. “I'll hide with you in the corner like I promised I would. We can make up for lost time after the auction. You know. The one for charity”.

Shouto hums and reaches for the door, knowing you’ve won. “Oh. I told Kirishima I’d bid for his date night,” he recalls as he turns the handle. “Would that bother you?”

“Of course not baby,” you reply and take one last look at your reflection, less disheveled than before. The endearment ‘baby’ almost has him walking into the doorframe.

You straighten up. Shouto thinks he must look incredibly dumbstruck, if your concerned expression is any indication. “You okay?” you ask, proffering your hand. “You didn’t bring your crutches tonight, did you?”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine,” he intertwines your fingers, dizzy as you squeeze around him.

“It’s just a tremor”.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader

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courtingchaos · 4 months

Text

Concentrated Bliss

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

A/N: Local one trick pony wrote smut again, surprise surprise.

Warnings: blow job, talk of living in someone’s chest, swallowing

NSFW 18+ No Minors

Caught unawares lounging on his bed with a folded back magazine held over his face, eyes squinting in the dimming light at the article he’s been reading, he doesn’t hear the creak of the chair in the corner. Pleather rubbing against loose metal while you slink off of it like you’re made of putty. Feet pushed back when your knees hit the floor quietly and you drop onto your hands to crawl on all fours, shoulders dropped to keep your head out of his line of sight while you pick through the detritus on the floor, your approach silent and unannounced.

He shifts on the bed, a dropped knee that opens up his hips and creates the perfect divot for you to rest your ribcage in. “Did you know Motley Crue have a fucking Lear jet?” His head rolls side to side in disgust. “Assholes.”

Your low hum doesn’t register, instead he just keeps reading and scoffing, his foot bouncing to background noise in his head. It’s a broken rhythm that he taps out and if you aren’t mistaken you can almost sus out the drum beat to When Doves Cry. A soft rhythmic press of his tongue to the roof of his mouth confirms when you catch a piece of the bridge and you have to stifle your chuckle. It’s for naught though, his attention laser focused so that he doesn’t feel the dip of his mattress when you start crawling up.

“Heavy metal my ass!” The back of his fingers smack the rolled spine hard. “I don’t know why I waste my money on this shit sometimes.” He says, bringing it closer to his face to keep reading. You’re almost at your destination now, his zipper straining at the pull of his splayed legs beckoning you closer. It takes your hand sliding under his ass to plant yourself fully before he looks down finally.

“Oh.” A smile with dimples that look deeper in the fading sunset. “Hello. When’d you get here?” The magazine is forgotten over the side of his mattress, lost in all the other forgotten things behind him, that hand tucking behind his head while the other one lays soft on your cheek.

“I was stalking over here for a minute.”

“I was so engrossed in hating Vince Neil I wasn’t paying attention, I’m sorry.”

“No it’s okay.” Your jaw fits in the valley of his hip too well, the back of your head leaned against his propped up thigh. “I was trying to be sneaky.”

“Mission accomplished.”

Under your cheek you can feel the warm press under his jeans and the slowly growing heat of his attention. Nuzzling into rough cotton makes him let out a long breath that turns into a hiss when he sees you bare your teeth momentarily.

“Hey, hey gentle.” He tenses for a pinch through his pants but it doesn’t come, your teeth instead biting around a belt loop to pull at it like a dog with a toy.

“Help me out.” Is mumbled around fabric that you drool on a little bit before that hand on your face drifts to his button. You pull at the slack as the button slips free and his zipper inches down with your enthusiasm.

“What are you up to?” The smile in his voice betrays his knowledge of exactly what you’re doing.

“Looking for my keys.”

“Oh they’re like, way in there.” He snaps the waistband of his boxers before sliding that hand back along your cheek, calloused fingers catching along your hairline. “Might need to nose around a bit.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows gives him a view of the very top of your cleavage from under a worn and stretched out collar. Skin pressing against skin while you get comfortable and he knows how warm it is in there; soft when he dips his fingers between to explore and leaves a trail of goosebumps behind. Right now though he keeps stroking fingers through your hair and watching you through half lidded eyes as your fingers crawl up his pelvis to loop over the elastic band.

Pulling down reveals your first prize, a dark thatch of hair that you mimic his movements in, fingertips scratching lightly at slightly ticklish skin. The hand behind his head grips at the base of his skull, a flex of his forearm that you don’t notice just like his bottom lip getting consumed more and more. Teeth peak out between reddening lips as he chews, a roll of a tongue outward to wet them, almost as if he could taste you on the air.

Your sole focus is on him right now but not him. Not his face and his hands grappling for gentle purchase along your cheek and his own neck. Not his body that’s become flush under your frame, tacky in the joints that are still clothed, heat that rises from his chest and up his face to his ears. You’re focused on him in this other way that makes him feel bashful like he’s a kid again and fumbling around in the dark. It makes his toes curl in his socks and his thighs tense around your arms the slower you pull on his pants. Anxiousness ripples in his belly with every puff of air you huff out in private glee, the small smile lighting up your face the closer you get to undressing him making him taut.

You find delight in him and that makes him nervous. There’s no way you look forward to this but, “all day sometimes” as you’d previous stated and as always you aim to prove him wrong. He lifts his hips almost unconsciously when you tug harder and suddenly the air is cool against his overheated skin. You drag a fingertip from coarse hair to the base of him and drag it up the velvet soft skin, touch light and fixated as you run over the ridge of the head. His own nails dig into his scalp now, his lip left forgotten to hang with his jaw in a silent gasp.

You look up and he swears you’ve got a mouth full of teeth meant to tear and rend under that deep grin. Your eyes glint in the near dark and if you ate him alive right here tonight he’d go without a fight. A monster snuggles between his legs to paw at him and all he can do is melt into the mattress when you roll out your tongue. Just the very point of it licks a thin stripe back down to bush and before you can pull away he’s pressing a thumb to the flat of the muscle to feel it wiggle. It wraps around and sucks him in, runs along the ridges on the pad and you keep your eyes glued to his however hazy his vision gets.

He tries to say something but there were never any words there to begin with, just an open maw breathing heavy. Fixated on your mouth that still descends towards his cock even with his thumb still trapped between your teeth. He’s stuck under your hands that lay flat on his hips to hold him still and give you something to leverage yourself on. Your nose runs down the little bit of exposed thigh before the edge of your lip grazes his shaft and he pops his thumb free. A gasp felt more than heard and he feels drunk suddenly as that thumb finds its way into his own mouth as yours descends on him fully.

A blow job is a blow job is a blow job, but there’s something about you specifically that makes him whimper into his palm. He bites down on the thumb in his mouth that tastes like you and can’t take his eyes off your fingers digging into his naked hips. Short nails drag lightly like your lips do when you pull up and already his propped up thigh shakes. With every pass of your mouth the air feels colder on his wet skin and he feels a loss deep in his chest for something strange. He jokes about crawling into your ribs sometimes to set up a home and maybe this feels similar but there’s perversion in this urge. Something animal that ignites in his skull and drives him toward you and your roving mouth. That tongue that inches out ahead of your lips to taste and teeth that drag light yet dangerous across sensitive skin. Your lips hold him in place when you smile around your mouthful and flick your eyes up to assess your damage.

He thinks about bucking up, chasing the heat of you to sate that base need for more. He thinks about you sinking your teeth into him to leave your lovers mark on the inside of his thigh. When you dip your head again and swallow around the length of him his eyes roll back before he can finish his thought, hands sliding down to card through your hair. He doesn’t guide you, as if you needed it, he just needs to touch wherever he can. His nails scratch your scalp and you hum around his cock, a deep purr that has him gasping to his ceiling and squeezing his eyes shut. Your tongue slithers hot against him while your hand finds its way into his boxers and you’ve got him pinned under your pleasure.

It only takes a gentle squeeze before he’s trying to pull your head up, small whispered ‘hey’s’ that trail off when you pick up speed. Again you catch his blurring vision and he sees your determination to have him desperate and boneless and who is he to deny you what you’ve worked so hard for. He babbles in the mounting pressure ‘I love you’s’ and many ‘please please please’s’, whimpers as the coil tightens and snaps against your onslaught.

Knees collapse against you to hold you close as one hand gets tangled in the ends of your hair and the other blindly grabs at the pillow behind his head to pull it over his face. He breaths heavy and fast when you don’t slow down and when you keep swallowing around him and when your hands keep roaming into sensitive valleys to press and grope. His brain turns to vapor and his thoughts disappear, leaving only room for you and your blessed heat.

You know when he’s had enough and you string him along for just second more while his thighs shake around your shoulders. He only pushes the pillow off his face when it feels like his oxygen is getting thin and he gets that first glimpse of your face post reckoning. A self satisfied smirk and a run of your thumb along that reddened bottom lip. It sings to him in the full dark now and when he gets his strength back he’ll manhandle you up to his mouth to steal your kiss. For now though, “You are a wonder.” His voice cracks and you smile, nestling your head back into the valley of his hip. A light fingertip traces softening skin with a curious glance and a deeper grin than before.

“I do try.”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Fic #Eddie Munson Smut #Eddie Munson x Reader #My Fic #My Work

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togamest · 11 days

Note

Hi there could I please get headcanons for hajime umemiya, jo togame, hayato suo and kyotaru on how they act when they’re deeply in love/how they show their affection☺️

-> how they show their affection | gn!reader, all fluffy stuff. [feat. hajime umemiya, jo togame, hayato suo and kyotaru sugishita]

author’s notes: i love this concept, anon, and i wanted to pick from the love languages as well to springboard off of! thanks for coming by!

HAJIME UMEMIYA: ACTIVITY

Hajime is definitely the type to enjoy doing things together. After all, he has a garden to take care of, and he really enjoys how excited you get when you harvest together. Seeing you unafraid to get your hands dirty, dirt covering your arms up to your elbows as you hum a sweet tune while planting the cherry tomatoes he just bought makes his heart sing. He even makes a separate planter just for you to plant flowers and other odd flora that doesn’t quite fit into the vegetable patch.

It doesn’t have to be just gardening, though; I feel like he’s very outdoors-y as well, really into hiking and exploration in general. He’ll carry you up the mountains he scrambles up with ease if you get too tired, and he’ll have packed lunch with him to have at the summit. Seeing the world spread out below you, stretching for miles, never fails to take your breath away as you lean your head on his shoulder. His hand is warm, encompassing almost your entire shoulder as he rubs your skin.

TOGAME JO: QUALITY TIME

Jo is happy just being with you, wherever you go. I imagine he’s really into parallel play as well, sitting on the couch with a blunt in hand as you play one of the video games you’re really into. Or, going out for a walk at dusk, when the town begins to settle in for the evening and everyone’s gone home so it’s quiet.

Walks, errand running, whatever you are off doing, he’s happy to join you. But he also enjoys uninterrupted time with you, given how much he hangs out with Choji, who can be a little needy of his presence. Due to that, he’ll make “no phone evenings” where you sit and watch silly videos or a good background movie as you chat about your day, what’s been bothering you, and all that. He may not have the answers, but he’s happy to simply sit and listen to you, bright eyes lighting up the room as you ramble on about your latest creative ideas. He’s satisfied with just that.

HAYATO SUO: INTELLECTUAL

Suou feels like the type of person to really enjoy challenging you on an intellectual level. This is the type of person that you ask “would you love me if I was a worm?” and he’s already sketching out terrarium layouts and set ups. He’s soft-spoken, naturally, but he poses a lot of interesting questions. He also tolerates your ridiculous scenario questions with a light laugh, but it’s always somehow the right answer for you. He’s perceptive enough to know what you want to hear.

I feel like he’s also really into documentaries, video essays, and tier lists. A video essay on Pokémon legendaries will devolve into you both creating your own for your own reasons, and arguing why some are placed in different tiers. It’s interesting, seeing some inner peeks of how his mind works, and it stimulates you as well; there’s nothing like a man who challenges the way you think, opening your mind up to other possibilities you’d have never considered.

KYOTARO SUGISHITA: PHYSICAL TOUCH

Sugishita feels like the type of guy who never fails to have a hand on you somewhere. He was initially teased about it from Suou and Sakura, but it was all in good fun with no harm meant. And besides, Sugishita managed to double down on the physical touch after, keeping a hand on your back when you’re out walking with him, or holding his hand. Even when you’re sitting on the couch reading and he’s playing video games, every time he gets to a checkpoint he’ll give you a kiss.

Hugs, for him, are a huge way he shows his love. He’ll even go as far as to lift you up in the air, swinging you around just to listen to the tinkling noise of your laughter. Anything to make you smile, for him, is a massive win; and he loves touching you whenever he can. Even in the car, his hand will drift to your thigh and stay there for as long as he can have it there, thumb rubbing the soft, plush inside of your thigh.

divider credit: @/cafekitsune networks: @interstellar-inn @themovingcastlez

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

#wind breaker headcanons #wind breaker x reader #hajime umemiya x reader #togame jo x reader #hayato suou x reader #kyotaro sugishita x reader #ari's autographs #ari's headcanons #ari's got mail!#Anonymous #thanks for comin by nonnie!!!!

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rileyslibrary · 1 year

Note

thinking about: reader injuring themselves during training (literally the smallest paper cut) and ghost over-dramatically carrying them to the medics because they “can’t walk” <3 <3 <3

Hey anon, I really liked your request, so I decided to spice it up a little (not in a naughty way, but in the “I-too-was-in-the-mood-to-over-exaggerate-the-living-sh!t-out-of-it-just-like-Ghost” way). I hope you don’t mind. Here, *passes you the story the way grandmas give birthday money*

———————————————————————

It was a goddamn obstacle course, and a simple one at that. They called it “routine training,” aimed to remind soldiers like you of your fundamental training principles while keeping you physically fit and mentally sharp. You’ve done it many times before, so it shouldn’t be a problem now, right?

Wrong.

This time, Lt. Riley summoned you to serve as a role model for the recruits. “Show them how it’s done,” Ghost said in his deep voice, to which you agreed with a seemingly disinterested shrug. It was a cocky, arrogant shrug that you later regretted for many reasons—far more than the number of times you had run that obstacle course.

See, you’ve never practised with so many people looking at you. And although you’ve completed the course with your teammates before, you have never been asked to act as a “demonstrator” in front of a crowd of eager eyes. Eyes that stare at you right now, admiring the seasoned soldier standing before them, waiting to see how you’d perform the track. You were an expert in their minds, a higher-up, so you wanted to give it your best and finish it in record time, just like a proper master would—just like Ghost would like you to.

As Lt. Riley finishes briefing the soldiers, he redirects their attention towards you. You, in response, begin to stretch your neck, arms, and legs and nod at Ghost, signalling that you’re ready. He nods back and blows the whistle through his balaclava.

The obstacle course begins with a row of five walls, each more challenging than the last. Despite the increasing difficulty, you summon all your skills and athleticism, and with a combination of agility and strength, you clear each of the five walls. You turn to look at Ghost, who stands proudly with his hands crossed in front of his chest. Good job, you.

The next challenge is a mud pit with barbed wire on top. It’s challenging if you don’t know the technique, but that doesn’t apply to you since you’ve mastered it. You quickly move through the second course, sliding with your back to the ground and carefully avoiding the barbed wire. As you pull yourself out of the pit, you feel a slight scratch on your knee from the barbed wire, but that doesn’t affect your ability to complete the course.

With the second challenge behind you, you reach the final obstacle: a 10-metre rope with a bell at the top. Climbing the rope and ringing the bell marks the end of the track.

As you pull yourself up the rope, you can hear Ghost’s thundering voice in the background, desperate and distressed, as if the world is about to end. You see him waving you down, but you’re determined to reach the top and shake the bell before sliding down, victorious. Your landing may not be as graceful as you imagined it, since you fell on your back, but that doesn’t matter; you did everything perfectly. You shift your attention to the recruits, who are now looking at Ghost, drawn by his frantic sprint towards you, followed by his dramatic slide to the ground.

“MEDIC!” Ghost yells as he grabs your knee and inspects it, “SOLDIER DOWN!”

You look at your knee to discover the source of all this urgency: it’s a scratch, a teeny tiny one, caused by the barbed wire you just passed. There is blood, as you would expect from a fresh wound, but nothing that would require the services of a medical professional or the attention of a hundred recruits.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT MEDIC?” he repeats and clasps your head with both hands. “Shhhh,” he murmurs, “it’s okay; everything will be okay.”

“Everything is okay, Lieutenant,” you reassure him with your face squeezed between his hands.

But he hears none of it. He pulls down your lower eyelids, peering into your eyes to inspect God knows what. He then turns to face the crowd. ‘Someone call for the medic!’ he cries, shifting his gaze to you and caressing your hair. ‘The poor thing is talking nonsense.’

He removes his scarf and begins wiping the blood off your knee. He starts giving you an impromptu pep talk, saying things like, ‘I won’t let anything happen to you’ and ‘Remember, pain is just weakness leaving the body.’ Embarrassed by the attention, you lie on the ground and cover your face with your hands. So much for the triumphant finale of completing the task.

The medic rushes over, grasping your leg to examine the wound, but Ghost slaps their hand and warns him not to touch you.

“He can’t provide consultation, Lieutenant,” you explain as you throw your hands in the air. “You called for him; at least let him do his job.”

He considers it, then turns to the medic. “Perhaps it’s better if we take this inside,” he says, sweeping you up in his arms and cradling you as if you’re injured beyond repair.

You put your palm to your temple and hide your face in embarrassment as he carries you bridal-style through the sea of soldiers. He yells for them to let him through, and you apologise to the recruits, explaining that it’s nothing but a scratch.

“I can walk, you know,” you mumble at Ghost as you smile at the soldiers.

“Have you tried?” he asks.

“No, you didn’t let me.”

“Exactly,” he replies, “no need to risk it.”

You reach the medical facility, and he gently places you on the hospital bed.

“They need a tetanus shot,” he orders the medic. “They scratched themselves on the barbed wire.”

The medic carefully listens to Ghost’s instructions and nods. He asks him to step outside so he can proceed with the treatment.

“I’ll be behind that curtain if you need me,” he informs you and walks behind the partition.

As the medic checks your wound, Ghost peers through the curtain, assessing the procedure. He makes unnecessary comments to the medic, asking him if “he’s sure he’s doing it right,” and the doctor reminds him that “he’s been patching up soldiers for years now.”

“It’s okay, Ghost,” you shout, trying to diffuse the situation. “The medic knows what he’s doing; let him work in peace.” You turn to the medic and lower your voice. “I’m really sorry,” you whisper, and he chuckles.

“That’s alright,” he says, putting on his gloves. “That’s how the lieutenant is, you know: he wants to look tough, but when he cares about someone, he goes all out.”

“Is that it?” You ask and look at Ghost’s shadow at the partition, eagerly pacing back and forth.

“Trust me,” the medic whispers, “you’re lucky to have him on your side.”

“Huh. I never thought about it that way.” You contemplate, “If we involve him in the process, do you think it will help him relax and stop biting his nails through his covered mouth?”

The medic lets out another chuckle. “It’ll certainly help,” he admits, “but it’d be best if you did it.”

You nod and straighten up. “Hey, Lt.?” You ask, and he immediately pops out of the curtain.

“The medic is about to apply some alcohol solution on my knee, and he said it might hurt a little,” you explain. “Would you mind sitting next to me for support?” You ask and pat the bed,

Without giving it a second thought, Ghost hurries over and sits beside you. He takes your hand in his and looks you straight in the eyes.

“You’re safe,” he states and turns to the medic, who is trying to suppress a laugh, “let’s do this.”

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost cod mwii #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost call of duty #ghost cod mw2

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anonimusunnoaniswriting · 2 months

Text

⚠️𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘⚠️

🎀Show your age if you wanna interact or I block u🎀

✨𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲✨ (𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨𝐱𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

Gojo likes to take pictures of you—videos too if he can. You could be lounging in his living room, sprawled on the couch, wearing nothing but his hoodie that sat snugly on your frame. Click! You could be in the kitchen, cooking a delicious dinner, the smells of which make passers-by lift their noses into the air and take deep whiffs. Click! You come out of the shower in a towel, click! You feed your cat, click! You brush your teeth, click! Gojo would even buy you pretty heels and dresses, jewellery and make-up, and take you to expensive restaurants and do fun activities – all so he could dress you up and take pictures of you. Click! Click! Click! Everything you did was carefully documented in his camera roll. Pictures he would proudly show off, even unprompted, just for an opportunity to make his peers turn green with envy.

Of course, he had another secret folder. This also had pictures of you—but they were only for one pair of brilliant blue eyes. Photos he took of your body. Of his fat cock, stretching out your little hole. Your tear-streaked face – mascara running down your hollowed cheeks – as you struggled to fit him in your mouth. Drool and gloss on your lips in a rambunctious dance, dripping onto your plush chest. Videos of his long fingers, tweaking and playing with your red nipples. Of your glistening pussy. Of his hand laying claim to your stomach, simultaneously lifting his hoodie off your tummy.

Every time he was away from you, either you on a mission or him, he would whip out his phone, open up the folder, and massage his aching balls while watching you. He would hear his voice in the background of his videos goading you, as he gripped your thick ass to pull it down on his length.

“Th-a-a-a-at’s it. Fuck– there's my good girl. Hng, you're taking daddy’s cock so well, sweety.”

Your soft high-pitched moans from his phone's speaker only served to turn him on further. He would pull his cock out of the waistband of his boxers, gently stroking it and imagining your hand in its place. With every thrust on the screen, he would thrust into the grip of his hand, watching how your ass jiggled in his mind’s eye. Every move was known to him, intimately. Hours of studying his film work had made him acquainted with your body as if it were his own. He knew exactly which whine meant Please, give me more or I’m going to cry, to the gasp that translated to Fuck, Daddy, don’t stop, I’m coming!

There were times when he would make you look at the camera, “Turn around f’ me baby. Lemme see your pretty little slut face” And your head would turn to look at him, at his phone, as he continued to thrust into you from behind. Sometimes you would take his phone in your own hands, leaning it against a pillow to get a perfect shot of you. Your widened glassy doe-eyes, captured on the screen, tits bouncing in time with your lover's movements. You’d speak to him too, egging him on.

“More, Daddy! Please, Daddy! Yeah, stretch me out and fuck me—just like that!” Or you’d say something like, “God, please, you’re so big, it’s too much!”

Any time he heard you, coupled with the visual of your wet eyes and open mouth, it would make Gojo cum. Just a few jerks and he would nut into his hand, the sticky white fluid running down his fingers.

His favourite video, however, starts off with him watching you from behind the camera. You’re in a lace lingerie set he bought for you, blue and white – matching his eyes and hair. You wore a dainty silver choker around your neck with a tiny bell that made a tinkling sound each time you moved – a collar almost. Sitting on his bed, propped up by pillows, you had one hand pawing at your breast, while the other played with your hair. Your legs were spread apart giving him a delicious view of the growing wet patch on your panties. Gojo felt himself licking his lips each time he saw it.

You would move your hand from your hair to your thighs, rubbing against the flesh softly, almost as if you were enticing him to come take a bite. And it would work. Gojo would set up his camera to record as he climbed into the bed with you, settling his head between your thick thighs. His mouth immediately latched onto you and sucked.

Gojo in the future would fuck his pillows furiously, desperate to try and recreate the feeling of you under him but it wouldn’t work. In a way, he would be almost envious of himself. Of his proximity to you. The video Gojo continued, lapping at the wet patch on your panties. His hand reached up to grab at your breast and massage it. You let out a loud sigh, your hand finding purchase in his hair and you raked your fingernails against his sensitive scalp, to which Gojo would respond with a guttural growl. “Woman! Do you want me to cum while my pants are still on?”

His kitten licks soon turned into a flat widened tongue, flush against your pussy, fingers tugging the panties to the side before he lost control and ripped them into two to get a better taste. You cried out at the loss of such a pretty lingerie set and were shut up by two long fingers being shoved into your mouth. It wouldn’t take long for you to cum on Gojo’s tongue. He knew his way around your body and sucked and licked on your clit and folds like a man possessed. The taste of you was intoxicating and Gojo, watching you on the screen couldn’t help but lick his lips, missing your flavour.

You orgasmed with a squirt, gushing into Gojo’s mouth, grasping at his hair and crying his name like a prayer. Gojo didn’t realise till you yanked on his hair from the overstimulation crying, “Stop Gojo, stop please, no more – yellow!” He lifted himself off you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His pupils were blown out and he looked almost wolf-like as he reached up to kiss you. His hips rutted into your tummy, the soft fat cushioning his hard thrusts. He was obsessed.

He tugged at the bra pulling your heavy breasts into his mouth one by one. You helped pull off his boxers to let him feel your skin against his. His cock was hot. The weeping tip dripped pre-come onto your belly and it ran into your folds in a cold contrast. His lips never once left your skin.

Gojo watching you on the screen later, would lose composure. Watching his cock sheath into you, knowing exactly how you felt around him would be too much. He would come for a second time that evening. Watching him, fuck you. You: falling apart on his cock; begging for him to cum in you; desperation and exertion in your voices as he finally ejaculated in you; sucking and nipping at your breasts. His hands pinned yours down and you both rode out the high repeating each other's names in unholy worship.

He collapsed into your arms and you kissed him; his head, then nose, then lips. He pulled you into his embrace and told you how good you were for him.

Future Gojo would come down from his high alone, and text you. The perfect shot of his hand, covered in his come. His soft cock, out of focus in the background.

You would open it and add it immediately to your own hidden folder. Gojo isn’t the only freak in this relationship…

A/N: Yeah so Hidden Inventory has a different meaning here. That's all I guess. I secretly like gojo also ok bye.

Hearts and reblogs are much appreciated and comments will get you KISSIE.

#anonimusunnoan #anonimuswritings #jjk #fanfiction #fanfic #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #picture taking #satorugojo #jjk satoru #jjk x reader fluff

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badbtssmut · 4 months

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Hi my love! I missed you and I really wanna request something. Only, of course if you want to take my request. I know they are closed, but I’m hoping once you get your rest you’ll be back cause I NEED YOU BACK. best bts smut writer on this damn platform.

my request is jimin x fem!reader where he fucks her on the couch because they were watching a really sexual movie together. He realizes that y/n made him watch it on purpose just to be fucked so he fucks her rough (when I say rough, I mean fucking ruthless!) maybe he spits in her face (sorry) degrading, and a little slapping/spanking. If you’re comfortable.

ily so xx

Admin: 😍 ily princess, you’re the sweetest, I missed you too, thanks for the request, it’s hot 🤭

Warning: mention of the penetration ‘almost becoming unbearable’ in one sentence

Note: This is a replacement request, anons please remember that requests sent after they’re closed get deleted ❤️

—

“This is what you were hoping for, hm?” You could barely hear his voice above the sounds your bodies were making as they connected again and again, wet slaps punctuating each word. Your body was buried into the couch cushions by the sheer weight of the man above you, the fingers wrapped around your throat keeping you into place as he fucked you into the couch, your body sandwiched in between the soft fabric underneath you and his warm body pressed against yours.

You couldn't move and you didn't want to, instead relishing in the fact that all you could do was lay there and let him use you however he saw fit.

“Dirty whore, your needy pussy was perfectly made to take this cock.” Jimin pulled his hand away from your throat, before his palm came into contact with your cheek in a sharp slap.

“Ah!” You gasped out, surprised at the sudden sting and the slight tingle it left. In the background, you could faintly hear the erotic scene playing on the movie that you suggested to watch with Jimin. You knew that it would’ve worked, but you didn’t realize how quickly he would be fucking you.

“Why are you so good at taking cock, hm? Who else had this pretty pussy, huh?” His words were laced with jealousy, his fingers moving to grip onto your face tightly, watching you in silence. “Well?” Your boyfriend stopped thrusting into you, keeping his cock inside of you as he sat still.

“No… nobody, Jimin. It's only yours, I promise!” You whined, growing impatient at the fact that he wasn't moving anymore. You needed his cock, preferably forcing its way into your soaked pussy and stretching it.

Jimin smirked down at you, leaning down to kiss your lips softly. The sudden gentleness that he showed after being so rough threw you off guard, but the kiss was nice.

“Yeah? So you are naturally this good at taking cock?” He kissed you again, this time with more force and his tongue licked your lips, demanding access.

You granted it, letting him taste every corner of your mouth as he pulled back. Without waiting for your answer, he started to trust into you again. “Fuck.” Jimin breathed out. “You are so fucking greedy, can’t just get enough, always need more cock don’t you?” He taunted you. “Take. It. Take it, whore.” He gripped onto your hips, keeping you in place as he fucked you.

You could barely think straight as you felt his cock pound into you over and over again, your mind going blank with pleasure.

“Mm, look at you, aren’t you the sluttiest girl of town? Fuck, I’m going to fill you up and you’ll take it, no? That's what whores like you are for. Right, baby?” Jimin asked, before he spat in your face.

That was it.

Your orgasm washed over you, and you shook and shuddered in his arms as he continued to fuck you through your climax, not even thinking about stopping or slowing down. You whimpered as you rode out your orgasm, the pleasure overstimulating your senses as he kept going.

You couldn’t speak, your mouth only hung open as you took his cock over and over again, the feeling of his cock stretching out your tight pussy almost becoming a little unbearable.

Jimin gripped onto the couch cushion next to your head, holding on tightly as his thrusts grew uneven and sloppy. He was close, and you could tell by the way he was beginning to moan. With one last thrust, you felt his cock twitch inside of you and he grunted, his hips coming to a slow stop as he stayed buried inside of you. You could feel his hot cum fill you up, and you shuddered, laying still as he filled you up.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer, peppering his face into kisses.

You didn’t want this night to end.

#bts smut #bts requests #bts x reader #bts smut requests #bts fanfic #bts smut fanfic #jimin smut request #Jimin x female reader #Jimin x y/n #Jimin x you

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strxwberry-milku · 1 month

Text

𝐌𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐀 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐧? 𝐏𝐭𝟐

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Roomate!Jimmy x Reader x Twin!Jey

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You always had a thing for twins…

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1,097

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Daddy k*nk , Gagging , Cream Pie , Spitting

* 🎀 𝒫𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒯𝒾𝓂𝑒 🎀 *

“ Bend ova fa me princess ” Jey said while plopping you down unto the bed.It was so funny at the fact that , he was not to long ago cussing you out , but now look at him….ready to stretch that pussy out until you can’t even spell your name out correctly . Being a good girl you listened to his instructions and bent over making sure you arched your back real good , so him and Jimmy can see your glistening folds nice and presented. It was pathetic really, you bent over , after not even 24hrs of meeting these men, pussy throbbing and clenching at the mere thought of there big , long and thick dicks sliding in and out of your hole and painting your insides white with sticky hot cum. But of course you would like that wouldn’t you? them claiming every inch of your delicate body , leaving hickies and bruises on your neck and thighs for everyone too see, and know that they’re there bcause of them . Naughty little slut you are.

Groaning at the sight , Jimmy came forward and glided one of his thick fingers through your puffy folds “ Shittttt mamas, look at you all excited and shi, you can’t wait can you ?”. Moaning at the sensations of him prodding your hole you grind your ass back up against him , dying to feel at least something to soothe the aching feeling of wanting to be stretched and full. Not liking the fact that you didn’t respond to him, he gave your pussy a quick slap. “ ah-h-hh yes daddyyyy, Ooooo I can’t wait , I want you to fill up my pussy with your throbbing dick pleaseeee” you remarked jolting from the bitter but sweet sting that erupted from your pussy. Laughing he gently grabbed your jaw with of his hands and set your face at angle so that you were staring into his eyes.” That’s what i thought princess,respond when daddy talks to you ” you nodded your head in agreement. “such a good girl you areee” Jey taunted in the background , clearly amused by your obedience.

“Stick out yo tongue pretty girl” Jimmy commanded , examining your face as if it was a sculpture from the museum. Doing as told you stick out your tongue, which was already coated with saliva so you tried so hard not to dribble on yourself. “ Good girl” Jimmy whispered and pursed his lips together ready to let his saliva drop into your mouth .Moaning at the taste of his spit you swallow and keep your mouth open . “Such a dirty slut you are…I wonder what else you could do with that mouth of yours?” Jey said and came from behind Jimmy to peer down at you. He pondered for a second and smirked, with the mischievous glint in his eyes you knew that , by the end of this, your throat would surely be sore.

“Turn yo sexy ass around sweetie” Turning around you focus your attention on Jet yet again, “ That’s it baby ” he muttered while hastily pulling down his grey sweats,quickly revealing his already leaking precum , 8-inch caramel dick . Your eyes widened at the sight “ Fuck” you thought , how and earth was that gonna fit in your mouth ?. Sensing your worry he patted your head reassuringly “ Don’t worry angel, you can handle it , you’re a big girl”. That being said, you took a deep breath and guided his glazed cock into your mouth. Groaning at the feeling of your mouth suction cupping his dick , he pulled your hair into a make shift ponytail and gently began to bob your head up and down. “ Fuc-ckkk yess , baby just like th-att” the pleasure you were giving him was all too much, with the way you were going , you would’ve thought this was you regular job or something .Spit seeped through the gaps of your lips and his dick and dribbled down to his balls, you slightly gagged due to his enormous size, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle .

Feeling a bit left out from the action Jimmy climbed unto the bed and hiked up your dress to position himself behind you . Being so cock drunk from pleasuring Jey , you didn’t even feel Jimmy slap his tip against your pussy until you felt him push the fat head inside .Moaning at the sudden penetration you push back against him,trying to feel full as much as possible. Slapping your ass he gripped unto your hips and started to slam his pelvis against your ass at a rough pace . “ Damn princess , ion know you was that tight...mmn-gn you finna ma-ke me bus-s quickk” he moaned and shut his eyes. It was like your body was on fire, it was all to much, from Jimmy complety obliterating your insides , too the point it felt like he was about to touch your liver too Jey who was face fucking you like there was no tomorrow.

Your body shuddered and your knees stared to buckle a little due to the overwhelming pleasure that was seeping through your body. Every moan or noise that threatened to escape , sent vibrations straight to Jey’s dick , further forcing him to his edge. “Shit,Shit,Shit!” Jey gritted out as he could feel his stomach tighten,signifying his release was about too come. You were on thin ice as well, one more thrust from Jimmy and it was over for you. Your blood pumped so fast around your body to the point you could hear it drumming in your ears, sweat dripped down your face and into your bouncing boobs. Jimmy was gripping unto you so tight , there’ll surely be bruises . “ I’m boutta cum princess, come with me ” he strained out, trying so hard to wait on you .

You couldn’t hold it anymore, your eyes rolled at the back of your head and the coil in your stomach finally snapped. Your pussy convulsed around Jimmy’s dick, completely milking him for what he’s got .Quickly pulling his dick out of your mouth he jerked of until his nut spilled all over your face ,almost like a finalised signature ,completing that you belong to him, Jey Uso. Pulling out of your sloppy hole, Jimmy groaned in defence from the loss of your warmth.

*BANG * *BANG* ( the front door )

“ Uh hello ? It’s your new roomate!”

𝐃𝐔𝐍 𝐃𝐔𝐍 𝐃𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐍….

I love ending on cliff hangers, it’s to funny. But anyways, how y’all like the new format ? ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა

#jey uso #jey uso x reader #jimmy uso x reader #the usos #wwe #roman reigns #my original fiction #roman reigns x reader #wwe superstars #jey uso smut #the bloodline #the bloodline x reader #hawaii #current wip #jimmy uso x you #jimmy uso imagine

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nysrage · 10 months

Text

Spa Day, aran ojiro.

never in your wildest dreams did you imagine your spa day having you relax and rejuvenated in this way.

cw: smutttt, public sex, sensual massage, body oil, teasing, fingering, oral.

it’d been a while since you had a day solely dedicated to your self. a day to relax and unwind not only your body but your mind, which was always so focused on the next task of your business. it’d become a habit, putting others before you, after so many years pleasing your clients. your body and mind was paying for it though. the hours hunched over someone and intricately placing lashes had your back in shambles and your mental health was not where it needed to be. so your friends flew you out to the carribbean for a girls trip, montego bay, jamaica.

which included a very needed spa day, necessary unwinding to prepare you for the time they had planned for you all this weekend. “gworl this is niceeee!!” gizelle cheesed at the surroundings, the soft white robes molding around you body. “I wonder what thread count in these!” she laughed, tugging the tag to check specifics on the robe. “girl stop clocking these people pockets!” you giggled, tying up the robe to secure it in place. not long after a pretty woman with cocoa skin entered the room with a knock, a bright smile on her face once she’d seen the group of girls making themselves at home. “we’re ready for you ladies.”

she escorted you all down the hall, the dimmed lowlights and comforting aromas consuming you once you passed the double doors. showing you and your friends to the designated rooms, her arm stretched out the open door beside you. with a nod she closed the door once you entered the room. it was like breathe of fresh air, dark walls and comforting scents. speckled ceilings and mirrors for you to enjoy the views of yourself, once stripped from the comforting robe you situated yourself on the massage table. snapping a pic in the mirror for the vacation dump you planned to look back on soon, with a deep exhale you melted into the cool sheets. soft music in the background almost sending you into a deep sleep until there was a knock at the door, the same woman welcoming your masseur into the room before exiting.

the man entered with a warm smile, loose cream pants and shirt contrasting perfecting off his deep caramel skin. deep waves in his soft looking hair with a goatee beard, lord he looked so good. your body bursting butterflies in your stomach. “I’m aran, your masseur for today.” he extended out a hand which you quickly shook, skin soft and warm against your cool skin. “y/n.” you said shyly, a soft smile pulling at the corner of your lips. he nodded with a smile, “pretty name for a pretty girl.” you face grew hot, growing flustered from the subtle compliment. “thank you.”

“so before we start, is there anything I should know? like allergies, complications, or—” you shook your head, confirming with him that their weren’t any issues he should be worried about medically. “and you and your friends are here on vacation yes?” you nodded with a giggle pushing the loose strands from your boho braids out of your face. “thought we’d unwind before before our escapades for the weekend began.” he chuckled looking over the body oils that lay in front of you, his eyes lighting up when he found the one he felt fit your perfectly, “must be a good one huh?” you nodded towards the bottle, aran laughing at his own unsubtle expression. “yeah, it is. edible too.” eyes staring into yours, as he spoke. pouring the oil into his hands as you settle on the table. his hands massaging in your back, releasing each knot in your back with ease.

“think it’ll fit you nice..”

“yeah? i just really need to pour some love back into me you know.” you confessed, your tense body slowly starting to unwind. aran looked over you for a second, soft eyes darting all around your face. “I know a technique that does just that that would help with that, it is a little on the intimate side though.”

“if you not comfortable with that, we could continue with—”

“n-no!” you voice slightly needy, embarrassed you cleared your throat. “no, i’d like to try it..”

aran talked you through the process, turning around as you wrapped yourself in the sheet and tucking it to secure it in place. you giving him a soft “ready.” as he turned around, removing his shirt in the process before joining you on the massage table. positioning himself in front of you before sitting you in his lap comfortably loosing the sheet and exposing your breasts to the cool air, warm skin against your as you sit chest to chest. his calm heartbeat against your quickened one. with a quick reach he squeezed a couple drops of oil into his hands, running those strong hands into your skin again. deeply massaging your tense back and listening to the relieving breathes that escape your lips, your arms wrapped around his back as you melted into his skin. the soft aroma from the oil filling your nose with the scent of brown sugar, as his hands worked at your shoulders to the sides of your neck. “doing okay?”

“y-yess, feels so good.” you breathe out, cheek resting on his shoulder as he pressed his warms hands into your muscles. he let out a soft warm laugh, working out a deep knot in your lower back. his eyes are closed, focused on your warm breath against his neck and the moan that leaves your lips once the knot is released. voice smooth and deep as he spoke to you, “that’s it, relax. your doing so good..” running his hands up your waist and just below your breasts. your arousal pooling out of you at the praise, body growing hot of his soft sensual touches. “now lay back..” he spoke up, watching the soft jiggle of your breast as you made yourself comfortable once more.

his hand running up and down your smooth thighs, thumbs deeply working into your inner thighs. that soaked patch of the thin fabric now on display for him to see, making his mouth water at the beautiful sight before him. “want me to pour a lil love into her too..?” you nod, voice needy and soft “y-yes.” strong oiled hand now around your throat to pull you up for a hungry kiss while his hands caress and massages into the soft flesh of your thighs and ass. tongue colliding with his as you explored his mouth, as you two sloppily kissed. his hands finding your leaking slit and running his fingers through it while he swallows your moans. moving from your lips to your neck, sucking on the soft skin, the tasty oil against his tongue as he licks at the forming bruise.

his warm tongue finding your breasts, circling your pretty brown nipple before sucking it into his mouth. humming in satisfaction at the hearty taste of the oil and releasing it with a pop, reeling back to watch your face contorting in pleasure as he thumbs figure eights onto your clit. “knew that shit would fit you, taste so good ma.”

soon you were holding your legs against your chest as he sucked and spit your arousal down on your pussy, sloppily kissing at your clit while two of his thick fingers caressed your inner walls. “spit on her just like thattt” moaning out for him as you pushed his face deeper. aran licking from your clenching hole to your clit, swirling around the bud and moaning as he seals it with a suckling kiss. “pretty ass pussy” he mumbled, long fingers fucking into you deliciously. curling and hitting that spot that had you shaking in his arms, clenching and sucking his fingers to keep them inside you.

he smiles, face glossy and dripping from your arousal. “mhm, let go for me. pour that love out onto me.” your eyes rolling back as he slipped his tongue back into you, sending you in overdrive as you cum on his tongue. “ooo— yessssss!” aran sloppily slurping it up and licking your sweet arousal clean. he removed his lips, hands softly caressing your skin as you came down from your high. your eyes opening to your arousal still coating his lips, before getting a taste for yourself humming in satisfaction at the sugary taste of the oil as you pulled away.

“you said your here for the weekend right?” you nodded, words being too much as you still came down from your orgasm.

“can i get your number? got a lot more lovin’ t’give..”

#nys works.ᐟ ᥫ᭡#black writers #no minors please #aran x black reader #aran ojiro x black reader #aran ojiro x black y/n #aran x black y/n #aran x black!reader #haikyuu x black reader #aran ojiro smut #haikyu aran ojiro #aran ojiro x black!reader #haikyu x black y/n #haikyu x black reader #haikyuu smut #haikyu x black!reader #haikyu aran #aran ojiro #haikyu smut

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lilacmingi · 3 months

Text

HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Hufflepuff!Yunho x Hufflepuff!fem reader

Word count: 4,968

Note: Seems kinda silly sharing this one considering its March lol but when I was writing these Hogwarts AU imagines, they were being posted around November/December 2022 and I felt bad for not having anything festive written so I made this one take place around Christmastime to add some festive flair. Hopefully you guys can still enjoy it, even in March haha

"You need to dress warmly, Y/n. It's getting colder these days." Yunho tugged your scarf around your neck, making sure you were all bundled up.

You merely chuckled, amused at how much he cares for you.

"I'll be fine." You assured him.

"We have to walk all the way to the greenhouse for herbology. You should stay warm."

You gave him a reluctant smile, allowing him to adjust your scarf to where it would cover your chin.

"Okay." He gave a small nod of approval before linking arms with you. "Let's go. Don't wanna be late."

Leaving the warm corridors of the school, you stepped out into the chilly air. It was nearing the end of autumn and would soon be winter, though based on the bitter temperature outside it felt like the season had already arrived. You and your fellow housemate trekked across the school grounds, stepping over leaves that had long fallen off the trees, their color now a dull brown. The holidays were just around the corner and Hogwarts had rolled out the Christmas decorations, decking the entire school out in holiday cheer, the colorful array of twinkling ornaments and other baubles giving the castle a cozy feel. The Great Hall was the most beautiful with large Christmas trees throughout the room, holly and ribbons hanging along the ceiling, all topped off with white snow falling from above, the magical icy clusters not feeling cold at all.

The greenhouse came into view, you and Yunho hurrying over desperate to get inside and out of the chilly air.

"Good afternoon." Professor Sprout greeted you with her usual warm smile, her jovial personality shining through as always.

"Afternoon." You greeted, making your way further into the greenhouse, taking your place at the long table that stretched along the length of the greenhouse.

You and Yunho began unpacking your supplies, your fingers brushing against his by accident.

"Your hands are freezing." He commented, grabbing them with his larger ones.

A faint heat creeped onto your cheeks as he squeezed your icy palms between his, warming them a little. You were so focused on him, you didn't notice the other students filing in the greenhouse, preparing for class.

"Alright. Now that everyone's here let's get started." Professor Sprout spoke up, causing Yunho to release your hands.

You exchanged sheepish glances before the both of you turned your eyes away out of embarrassment.

"Since Christmas is approaching, I thought it would be fit for us to study mistletoe. As you all know, this parasitic plant is used for decoration, but you can also use it for antidotes for the forgetfulness potion and common poisons."

"Ha. Mistletoe." You chuckled softly. "How festive."

Professor Sprout proceeded to explain more facts about the plant, allowing everyone to examine the white berries on the herbage, cutting them open and grinding them for potions.

The greenhouse, though slightly warmer than the chilly outdoor air, didn't offer much heat for your cold fingertips. Suddenly you missed the warmth of Yunho's hands, wishing he could hold them one more time.

Professor Sprout filled the silence in the greenhouse by giving a brief history lesson on mistletoe, talking about how it was used as a holiday decoration in the 1700s, then she proceeded explain how wizards used it for potions, though at that point you started zoning out.

Her voice became mere background noise as your eyes lingered on Yunho, who was closely examining the leaves on his plant which was held between his slender fingers.

By some miracle, you managed to pull it together long enough to make it through class.

You rubbed your hands together on the trek back to the school, tugging your scarf up to cover your nose and shield it from the chilly gusts of wind that fiercely hit your cheeks.

Once back inside Hogwarts, you let the heat from the torches lining the hall to warm you up a little. Yunho noticed the way you rubbed your hands together, wiggling your fingers around a bit.

"Here." Yunho held his hands out to you palms up.

You placed your smaller hands in his and allowed him to warm them the best he could, though his fingers were pretty cold as well, but they were warmer than yours. Plus, you can't possibly pass up the opportunity to have his hands holding onto yours.

You chuckled softly at Yunho's appearance, noticing a tint of pink on the tip of his nose.

"What?" He asked amusedly.

"Your nose is pink."

"It's freezing too. Wanna feel it?" He teased, leaning in closely preparing to press his nose against your cheek. You were quick to pull away, laughing at him.

"Come on. Let's go to the dining hall and see if we can get some hot chocolate before our next class." He stated.

"That would be fantastic."

The both of you went straight to the Great Hall where thankfully you were able to get a hot beverage to warm you up, the drink doing wonders for you.

"This was a good call." You sighed contently, grateful that your friend had suggested the idea. "I needed something that would warm me up quickly."

He hummed in agreement, his face covered by the mug as he gulped down the chocolate beverage. Once he set the cup down, a small amount of whipped cream dotted the tip of his nose as well as his top lip, the sight making you giggle.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" He asked, knowing there was whipped topping on him.

"Come here." You beckoned, grabbing a napkin and cleaning his face.

Yunho's heart fluttered at your simple yet very effective actions. His eyes lingered on your face, taking in all your beautiful details, from your lashes to your soft-looking lips, his mind beginning to wander as he imagined what it would feel like to kiss them.

"Yunho?"

He blinked himself from his daze, humming in response.

"You zoned out. I asked if you were ready to go. We've got just enough time to get to class."

"Oh. Yeah I'm ready."

It was early morning, right around breakfast time and you were sat in front of the fireplace in the Hufflepuff common room with a letter in your hands and a heavy feeling in your chest.

The sound of feet shuffling along the floor above could be heard over the crackling fire before you, Yunho's voice following after.

"Oh, you got something from your parents?" He observed.

"Yeah." You sighed as he descended the stairs, taking a seat beside you.

"Must've been important if it was delivered straight to the dormitory."

"It was."

Based on your discouraged tone and small frown, whatever news you got wasn't good.

"What's wrong?"

"It's a letter from my parents. They work for the Ministry of Magic so they're really busy and it seems they're not going to be home much. Looks like I'm going to be staying here for Christmas."

Yunho frowned. He hated seeing you upset, even more so he hated that you would be stuck at Hogwarts over Christmas break instead of spending it with your family.

"Come here." He beckoned softly, pulling you into a hug, which you happily accepted.

His hugs were always the best. He was bigger than you, so being in his embrace always felt nice, warm, even safe. You've always joked that his hugs were magical because they always seemed to melt your problems away whenever you were upset about something.

Yunho rubbed your back soothingly, allowing you to stay in his arms for as long as you needed.

If you were forced to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas break, he would stay with you.

Or maybe...

He let out a sudden gasp as a lightbulb went off in his head, making him pull back.

"Why don't you spend Christmas with me and my family?"

You took in a quick breath at his sudden proposition, looking at him with a shocked expression. At your response, or lack thereof, Yunho continued.

"You can send an owl back to your parents and let them know you're going to spend Christmas with me."

You continued to sit there, your mind processing everything.

Spending Christmas with Yunho?

The idea sounded great, honestly. You'd be able to spend the entire break with your crush. What more could you ask for?

Judging by the hopeful expression on his face and the expectant gleam in his eyes, he really wanted you to accept his offer, so you did.

When Christmas break rolled around, you found yourself boarding the Hogwarts Express with Yunho and a suitcase of clothes and other necessities for your visit.

The both of you made your way into one of the roomettes, sliding the door closed behind you before moving to sit on one of the benches.

"Sit next to me, Y/n." Yunho patted the spot next to him.

Softly smiling, you moved across to Yunho's bench, seating yourself beside him.

"I haven't seen your parents in years." You commented.

"I'm sure they're excited to see you, especially mom. She asks about you a lot."

"She does?"

He nodded.

The train departed from the station a few minutes later, rolling into motion. You watched as the school got smaller and smaller the further away you got. Your heart started to beat a little faster at the thought of being with Yunho for two weeks at his home.

The snack trolley rolled by not too long into the ride making the Hufflepuff beside you perk up, an excited gasp leaving him.

"Y/n, do you want something?" He asked.

"Yes, please."

Yunho asked the lady pushing the cart for your favorite candy along with some of his favorites before she went on to the next roomette. It didn't take long at all for the both of you to tear into the sweets, enjoying them as you watched the trees and valleys pass by.

An hour into the train ride, you felt your eyelids begin to droop as a feeling of drowsiness slowly washed over you. Not wanting to fall asleep, you turned your attention to the view out the window and started watching the scenery, a vast field with mountains in the distance, each one a different size. Unfortunately, that didn't do any good and you ended up allowing yourself to rest your eyes for a moment, which of course resulted in you falling asleep.

Yunho's gaze was glued to the landscape outside when he felt a weight on his shoulder. Upon glancing over, he found you sound asleep, your body slumped over on him, head resting on his shoulder.

A soft smile of adoration tugged at his lips as he allowed his gaze to linger on you for a few moments, taking in your features up close. It was only when you stirred slightly that he averted his gaze back to the view outside, his cheeks slightly warm.

When he didn’t feel you move, he peeked over at you once more as soft breaths pushed past your slightly parted lips.

"Y/n. We're here."

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, nuzzling your face into whatever you were resting on.

A deep chuckle sounded afterwards making you peel your eyes open.

Yunho was gazing down at you, eyes gleaming with amusement. It was then that you realized you'd fallen asleep on him, your head resting on his chest. This realization caused you to push yourself off him in a rush.

He only laughed, standing up from his seat.

"I'm sorry." You apologized.

"You seemed to be sleeping well, so I didn't wake you." He responded, offering you his hand. "Come on."

After a short taxi ride, you arrived at your destination, welcomed by strings of beautiful multicolored lights strung along the eaves of the house, the sight giving you a warm feeling in your chest.

You stepped into Yunho's cozy abode, the warmth from inside brushing against your cool cheeks, the smell of gingerbread and cinnamon reaching your senses.

"Come in, come in." Yunho's mom beckoned, ushering both of you inside. "It's freezing out."

Christmas music played softly throughout the home as you removed your scarf, your eyes roaming the house, taking in your surroundings. The feeling of someone tugging on your coat grabbed your attention, it was Yunho. You thanked him quietly, shrugging off the thick jacket and allowing him to hang it on the coat rack by the door.

"My Yunho, come here." His mom cooed, pulling him into a tight hug. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, mom."

After pulling away, she turned to you with a warm smile. "Y/n."

"Hello." You greeted.

"I haven't seen you since you and Yunho were in fourth year." She gushed. "You've grown into such a beautiful young lady."

You muttered a shy thank you before she escorted the both of you into the living room, going on about how excited she was that you'd be joining them during Christmas break and how she had prepared snacks for your arrival. Sitting on the coffee table in the living room was a plate of small sandwiches, crackers, and sliced fruit along with two glasses of water.

"Sorry. She gets enthusiastic when we have guests." Yunho murmured, cheeks tinged pink.

"It's fine. It's actually really nice. I missed her hospitality."

Just then, the front door swung open and Yunho's father walked in, shrugging off his jacket.

"Are they here yet?" He inquired before glancing into the living room where you and Yunho were seated on the couch. "Ah. I missed the welcome party."

"We just got in." Yunho informed him. "You didn't miss much."

"Good, good." His father nodded, making his way over to greet both of you, asking how classes were and how you'd been—just the usual small talk. He then grabbed one of the tiny sandwiches Yunho's mom had made.

At that moment, she entered the room and caught him in the act, immediately scolding him.

"Those are for Y/n and Yunho."

"Alright. Sorry." He chuckled, heading towards the kitchen.

"Y/n, why don't I take your bags to your room?" Yunho's mom offered.

"Oh, you don't have to do that."

"No, no, I insist. You're our guest."

You didn't have time to protest as she grabbed your bag as well as Yunho's and left the room.

After resting for a moment and finishing the finger foods that were prepared, Yunho's mom offered to show you where you'd be sleeping during your visit. Yunho wanted to unpack his things, so he got up and followed you and his mom down the hall, not expecting her to come to a stop at his bedroom.

"You'll have to share with Yunho. I hope you don't mind." She mentioned, opening the bedroom door. "Don't worry, though. I've set up a mattress on the floor so everything should be fine."

"I thought we had a spare bedroom." Yunho spoke up hastily.

"Oh, I've been using it as a storage room."

Yunho's face got hot at the thought of sharing a room with you, but at the same time it was a dream come true. Back at Hogwarts the boys and girls dorms are separated; the girls' dormitory is charmed so no boys can enter, though it's not the same for the boys' dorm, which is odd—but you've never stayed overnight with him before, even at school, so this would be a whole new experience.

Your palms started to get a bit sweaty as you took in the information you were just given, your slightly wide eyes staring at the sight before you. Alongside Yunho's bed was a small, inflatable mattress with a few blankets and pillows on it. While it did look comfortable, it was directly beside the place where Yunho slept. Judging by the giddiness in his mom's voice, she was more than okay with the both of you sharing a room.

"Well, I'll let you two get settled." She spoke up and excused herself.

As soon as she was out of the room, Yunho's head dropped as he let out a sigh.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine." You waved him off.

You and Yunho have been friends for years, sharing a room shouldn't be weird... it only feels that way because of your feelings for him.

"I'm gonna unpack. You can make yourself comfortable."

Yunho moved across the room to his bed where his suitcase laid, unzipping the beg before removing items from it. You started to do the same, taking a seat on the blow up mattress in the floor, taking out your toiletry bag.

"You can put that in the bathroom across the hall." Yunho mentioned. "As for clothes, you can leave them in your suitcase or I can clean out a drawer for you to store them in."

"It's fine. I can just leave them in here." You responded, not wanting Yunho to go to the extra trouble.

Once settled, the both of you were called into the kitchen to have dinner, which smelled so good. It had been a while since you had a home-cooked meal. Though, Hogwarts had exceptional food, there's something different about having something made at home.

"You really went all out." You commented, your mouth watering at the spread before you.

"Of course. It's Christmas, plus we have a special guest. It's the least I could do." Yunho's mom smiled warmly, pouring everyone a drink.

After a nice meal, you spent the rest of the afternoon watching TV with Yunho and his parents. Turns out they found amusement in muggle television programs and enjoyed watching them. You unexpectedly got hooked on a particular show, the ups and downs of the plot pulling you in immediately.

After watching a few episodes, you and Yunho decided to get ready for bed and settle in for the night.

You watched in mild amusement as Yunho arranged his pillows in a particular order, one lying flat in the middle and one propped up on the bed frame on either side. A chuckle slipped from you by accident causing the tall boy to turn, eyeing you.

"Sorry." You apologized. "I didn't know you had a system going."

"I do. My bed fits me well so I arrange my pillows like this, but in beds that are shorter where my feet stick out, I arrange them like this." He began shuffling the pillows around, moving the ones that were resting on the bed frame flat on the mattress lying vertically, giving him somewhat of a barrier on either side of his main pillow.

"I have to do this at Hogwarts since the beds are smaller." He mentioned.

It may be silly, but his specific pillow arrangements were extremely endearing to you. The way he had a whole system figured out based on the size of the bed was too cute.

He didn't seem to notice your love-filled gaze as he fluffed his main pillow, shimmying underneath the covers.

"Are you settled in?" He asked.

"Mhm." You hummed.

Yunho raised his wand in the air, using it to turn the lights out before snuggling down into his bed.

"Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight, Yunho."

Getting to sleep proved to be a bit harder than you had originally thought. You were hyperaware of Yunho sleeping so close to you and that prevented you from getting relaxed enough to rest.

It's not a big deal, Y/n. You told yourself. Yunho is your best friend. You've known him for years. There's no reason to be nervous.

Minutes passed and you tried different positions, lying on your back, your left side, then your right side. Nothing was working.

Movement on the bed caught your attention as Yunho's head popped up, peeking down at you.

"If you're not comfortable, we can switch spots." He offered. "If it's me you're uncomfortable with I can sleep on the couch and you can have my bed."

The thought of sleeping in Yunho's bed under sheets that probably smelled like him drove you crazy, but the inflatable mattress was just fine, plus you didn't want to take Yunho's bed from him.

"I'm good." You assured him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. This is fine."

"Well, the offer is still there if you change your mind."

You murmured a thank you before rolling over, finally getting comfortable enough to go to sleep.

You woke up the next morning to Yunho shaking you awake.

"What is it?" You groaned.

"Get up. Hurry!" He pulled you to your feet, your knees nearly buckling, not used to all the sudden movement right after waking up.

Yunho wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you downstairs to the living room window.

"Check it out." Yunho gawked as he gazed out the glass pane.

"Wow." You gaped at the amount of snow that had blanketed the front lawn, the sight instantly waking you up.

"Oh, how pretty." Yunho's mom marveled. "You two should go outside and enjoy it."

The both of you exchanged glances, but before either of you could speak, Yunho's mom did.

"Go on." She gently ushered the both of you towards your room, telling you to bundle up. "I'll start on breakfast and you two go have some fun."

You had no choice but to do as she asked, going right back to Yunho's room.

"I'm so glad I packed warm clothes." You commented, pulling out a sweater and thick pants.

After layering up and putting on your coat and house scarf, you stepped outside hearing the many inches of snow crunch beneath your boots.

"That's one way to wake you up in the mornings." Yunho chuckled, his breaths coming out in puffs due to the frigid air.

"That's for sure." You shivered slightly, the icy weather flushing out the last remnants of sleep from your body.

"Come on." Yunho's gloved hand grabbed yours, tugging you out into the yard. "We should build a snowman."

"With all this snow, we could built three snowmen."

Yunho retrieved his wand from the inside of his jacket with a smirk. "You wanna try it?"

A knowing grin spread across your face as you pulled out your wand. "Let's do it."

With a simple locomotion charm, the both of you had large spheres of snow rolling across the lawn, getting bigger and bigger.

"Bring that one over here." Yunho pointed. "We'll use that for the base."

You nodded, moving your snowball to its designated spot as Yunho stacked his on top, using his wand to place the last and smallest sphere on top. In no time, you had three perfect snowmen built in front of the house.

Using your wands, the both of you gathered sticks and rocks to use for the arms and face for each snowman, placing them accordingly.

"These looks great." You beamed. "It's been so long since I've done this. I feel like a kid again."

"Me too." He huffed out a laugh. "You think breakfast is ready?"

"I hope so. I'm starving."

"Come on." Yunho held out his hand. "Let's go."

Later that night, the air inside the house was cooler than normal thanks to the piles of snow outside. The double layer of blankets wasn't doing much to keep you warm, no matter how much you curled up or how high they were bunched around your neck.

"Are you cold?" Yunho asked.

You assumed he was asleep, so his voice startled you a bit.

"Just a little." You responded.

"Would you like to sleep up here? It's warmer when you're not close to the floor."

"I don't know. You've got that pillow fort up there, I don't think there's any room for me." You teased.

"I can always make room."

You were so desperate to get warm and Yunho's offer was very appealing, so you agreed.

Yunho shuffled around, adjusting his pillows as you got up off the inflatable mattress and joined him in the bed, which was noticeably warmer than your makeshift one on the floor.

You let out a content sigh, tugging the covers up over you.

"Better?" Yunho asked.

"Much."

At this point, the fact that you were sharing a bed with Yunho didn't phase you, in fact, it was the last thing on your mind. You were just grateful to be warm. Yunho shuffled a bit, giving you some extra space before rolling onto his side, his back facing you.

"This is so much nicer than that air mattress." You commented blissfully.

"I imagine it is."

"You don't have to be so far away." You told him, noticing the distance between the both of you.

"I just wanna make sure you're comfortable."

"I am. Come on." You tugged at the back of his pajama top, making him scoot towards you.

He kept his back facing you, too nervous to turn around. Yunho felt bad that you were cold and simply wanted to help out, but now that you were right beside him, things were starting to sink in.

"Goodnight." You murmured sleepily.

"Goodnight."

It was only when he was sure you were asleep that he turned around. Your cheek was squished against the pillow as small snores moved past your parted lips. His hand reached out towards your face, his slender fingers barely ghosting over your cheek. Yunho found himself unconsciously moving forward, his gaze focused on your lips. Before he could get too close, he came to his senses and pulled away, choosing to go to sleep.

It was finally Christmas Eve and things were in full swing at the Jeong household. Yunho's dad has just placed extra logs in the fireplace while his mom laid out all the sweet treats she had baked, going on about playing some board games later. Presents had been wrapped and placed neatly underneath the tree, each present with a different decorative wrapping.

"There's supposed to be some muggle

Christmas specials on tonight." Yunho's dad mentioned. "We should watch some."

"That'll be fun." You agreed.

"Oh, darn." You heard Yunho's mom mutter.

"Is everything okay?" You inquired, poking your head into the kitchen.

"I'm out of eggs." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "The store closes in half an hour. I need to go."

You and Yunho watched from the living room doorway as she hurriedly slipped on her coat, calling for his dad to come with her.

"You two will be alright staying here by yourselves for a little while, right?"

You both nodded.

With that, she pulled out her wand, both she and Yunho's dad apparating in the blink of an eye.

"I can't wait to get my apparition license." You commented.

"Me too. It'll be so convenient." Yunho agreed.

Letting out a sigh, you turned to face him.

"So, what should we do?"

Your question went unheard and unanswered by Yunho who was more occupied with something above you.

"Ah." Yunho glanced up with rosy cheeks.

Following his gaze, you spotted a small bundle of mistletoe hanging from the top of the doorframe, sucking in a deep breath at the sight.

"I'm sorry." He muttered embarrassedly. "My mom must've put that there."

The tips of his ears were a deep shade of pink while his cheeks were almost matching.

"It's okay." You shrugged it off, acting as if it wasn't a big deal to help Yunho feel a little more at ease even though you were internally freaking out just like he was.

Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you weighed your options. Either you could walk away and pretend this didn't happen, noting to avoid the mistletoe for the rest of your visit, or you could try and kiss Yunho and see what happens.

Before you could make a decision, he started to lean in closer, your breath catching in your throat.

Yunho's lips met yours, pressing softly as if to test the waters. Though there wasn't much force or pressure to the kiss, you could feel the pliant softness of his lips as they dragged slowly against yours before he pulled away, the lack of contact leaving you wanting more. Without hesitation, you leaned forward, reconnecting your lips. The action clearly caught Yunho off guard but he was quick to respond, his arms sliding around your waist pulling you into his broad chest.

Your mind clouded over immediately, the feeling of his mouth on yours was almost too much to handle, but still you wanted more.

You got your wish, because it was at that moment Yunho stepped forward, pressing your back against the frame of the walkway as he began kissing you more feverishly.

Your fingers found purchase in his dark tresses, tugging at his hair. He let out a grunt in response, pressing closer to you.

"Yunho." You murmured against his lips.

He pulled away for a moment, gazing drunkenly at you with half-lidded eyes.

"I like you a lot." You confessed breathlessly. "I have for along time."

"Me too." He sighed, leaning in to capture your lips with his once again.

Your leg wrapped around his torso, your fingers grabbing at the fabric of his sweater.

Yunho pulled away again, making you frown slightly at the loss of contact.

"You're so pretty." He stroked your cheek.

Your eyelids fluttered closed as you sighed out his name.

"I'm not sure how long your mom will be gone, maybe we should go somewhere else." You suggested.

"Say no more." Yunho began tugging you along through the living room and down the hallway to his bedroom.

The both of you collapsed onto his bed with a grunt.

"I think this was my mom's plan all along." He admitted.

"Me too. Maybe we should thank her." You chuckled.

"Maybe we should." He grinned, diving in for another breathtaking kiss.

Hongjoong ⟡ Seonghwa ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung ⟡ Jongho

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thelargefrye · 7 months

Text

HONEYMOON IN PARIS ... mature one - shot

pairing : idol!hongjoong x idol!f!reader x idol!wooyoung (background poly ateez)

genre : idol au, exile her au, smut, romance

word count : 1.8k

warnings : language

smut warnings : unprotected sex, threesome, mxm content, romantic sex (i attempted it lol)

suffer tag : @sanjoongie

note : something quick and cute because i know wooyoung would make them act like he's on his honeymoon with you and hongjoong lol. inspired by hongjoong's paris vlog.

you and your two boyfriends, hongjoong and wooyoung, spend time together in paris during the fashion week.

the sound of an alarm going off is what you are awoken too. a groan leaves your mouth and eyes still full of sleep as you look around the fancy french hotel room you and your two boyfriends slept in the night before. at least it was your hotel room.

you attempt to move in order to turn the alarm off, but wooyoung has a strong grip around your waist. he lets out a grunt when you try to move because you know that when hongjoong is asleep, he's dead to the world.

"woo... let me turn the alarm off," you mumble as you attempt to lean over him.

you hear him let out a small huff before he's loosening up his hold on you. you take this chance to quickly lean over and turn the alarm off on whoever's phone it was before going back to laying down. you and wooyoung are facing each other; looking at each other with sleepy gazes.

you bring your hand up to trace his nose before letting it trail over his lips. finally, you let your hand trace over his jaw before lazily resting in-between the two of you.

"do you have a schedule today?" his voice is hushed in order to be mindful to the sleeping hongjoong behind you.

"no," you whisper back as you feel wooyoung trail his hand down you back sending a wave his chills over your body as he does so. "its cold," you comment making him let out a small laugh.

"well, i don't think being butt naked helps you, babe," he says and you roll your eyes at his comment.

"i have underwear on," you say as you feel his hand travel down the curve of your back and over the curve of your ass instead. he fiddles with the elastic of your panties before quickly making them snap against your skin. you can't help the yelp that leaves your lips in surprise before a pout is taking over.

wooyoung grins before he's rolling you onto your back and hovering over you. so much for being mindful to hongjoong. wooyoung doesn't give you a second to say anything before he's crashing his lips onto your.

like instinct you run your hands through his hair before your nails are racking down his back. when wooyoung pulls away, you both are left breathless and it makes you realize how long its been since you and him have been like this.

"good, cause neither does hongjoong and i've missed you too much to not be able to have you for a second longer," he says and his words make you feel flushed, a welcoming heat spreading through your otherwise cold body.

"i've missed you too, woo," you say before he's kissing you again. your bare chest pressing against his own and he begins to grind against you. you can feel wooyoung grow hard the longer he grinds against you which doesn't help the wet patch that begins to form on your underwear.

wooyoung pulls away for a second time, face flushed and eyes full of lust as he moves to sit up a little bit. you watch as wooyoung shrugs off his underwear, throwing them over the edge of the bed before he's pulling your own underwear off and doing the same thing to yours.

"sorry, babe, i can't wait any longer," he says before positioning himself between your legs and then slowly entering you. you let out a breathy moan as wooyoung enters you. "fuck, how long has it been since we were like this?"

"too long," you say as you feel wooyoung begin to thrust inside of you. his cock fitting inside of you snuggly and stretching your walls out as he continues to thrust inside of you. it had honestly been too long – in your opinion – since you had last been with wooyoung or any of your other boyfriends. them continuously being on tour and schedules and you preparing for your comeback that was coming up in a few months.

"i've missed you, missed this," you mumble as you wrap your arms around wooyoung and pull him close to you. his forehead resting against your own as his own hands roam up and down your body.

"i've missed you, too, our videos can only hold me over for so long," he says laughing as he presses a kiss to your jaw. you can't help the laugh that escapes you as well.

you can't the bittersweet feeling that settles in your stomach. knowing this moment wouldn't last and soon you would be a part once again for god only knows how long. you wanted to prolong this moment with wooyoung for a little longer.

"what's wrong, y/n?" wooyoung's voice breaks you out of your solemn thoughts and you blink up at him. you let out a moan as he rolls his hips into you, setting a rather nice pace for the two of you. like he wanted to draw this moment out a little longer as well.

"i've just really missed you is all," you tell him, combing your fingers through his hair and brushing the stray hairs out of his eyes.

"just wooyoung?" another voice speaks up and you it startles you for a moment. you turn to see hongjoong resting on his side, head propped up with hand as he looks at you both. "are you trying to make me jealous?"

"when did you wake up?" you ask, reaching for his free hand which he happily takes and intertwines your fingers together. he brings your hand up and kisses the back of it making you smile at him. "and no, i didn't just mean woo, i've missed you as well."

he smiles at your answer before scooting closer in order to press a kiss to your lips, "only a few minutes," he says answering your question. you watch as he sits up a little in order to also give wooyoung a kiss and the younger one happily accepts it making you laugh at how desperate he looked.

"say it back," you say to hongjoong once he's back to resting next you and lazily watching as wooyoung fucks you. he looks from where wooyoung is disappearing inside of you and meets your eyes.

"say what?"

"that you miss me," you say and hongjoong smiles at you softly before he's cupping your cheek, thumb rubbing your skin.

"i've missed you, my muse," he says and his little nickname sends a wave of butterflies into your stomach.

"you haven't called me that in a while," you say absentmindedly and hongjoong hums as his hand trails down your body.

"come on, youngie, you can fuck our girl better than this. if you don't hurry up and make her come, i'll take your place," hongjoong says looking at the dancer who lets out a whine at his words. hongjoong did always have that effect on wooyoung especially when he used his leader voice on him.

"hyung~" he whines, "i'm trying to be romantic! we're in paris for fucksake."

"then fuck her like you love her, not like you're tired. you can move your hips better than that," hongjoong bites back.

wooyoung seemed to have taken that as a challenge as he immediately grips the flesh of your thighs spreads your legs apart so he could thrust into you deeper.

you let out a loud moan, head thrown back, and back arching as you move your hips as well. the hotel room is filled with a mixture of sounds; skin slapping skin, your moans, and wooyoung's groans. hongjoong lays next to you and you think he might be hypnotized by you and wooyoung, his eyes never leaving where wooyoung's cock disappears inside your pussy.

you note how this isn't the first time hongjoong has watched one of your other boyfriends fuck you. watching how your pussy swallows their cock and seemed almost entranced by the sight. he's also done it when its just the two of you. always doing positions that he can easily watch you in.

"joongie..." you trail off catching his attention.

"yes, muse?"

"will you touch me please?" you ask and hongjoong lets out a small laugh before he's nodding his head. he moves and the sheets finally reveal his lower half and you notice how hard is in his underwear. you attempt to reach over and touch him, but hongjoong lightly slaps your hand away. "hongjoong?"

"its okay, you can help me out later," he says, face hovering dangerously close to your and you nod your head at him. your noses bump up together before you feel hongjoong's hand trailing down your body, groping you and squeezing your breast before he's trailing it down your stomach and stopping right at your clit.

you let out a cry when the head of wooyoung's cock manages to rub against your sweet spot right when hongjoong begins to draw lazy circles on your clit. you can't help but clench around wooyoung at the feeling, it makes wooyoung also let out a groan and his hips begin to stutter as his pace becomes quick.

you know he's close and by the tight feeling in your stomach, you are too.

"w-wooyoung, hong-joong," you say breathlessly, "i'm close!" you say and hongjoong grins as he draws tighter circles and figure-eights on your clit.

"f-fuck~ i am too," wooyoung moans out, digging his fingers into your thighs and you wouldn't be surprised if you found marks on your thighs later.

"is our little star making you feel good, muse?" hongjoong asks, his breath fanning against your ear. he laughs at how eagerly you nod your head at his question.

"y-yes! so good!" you reply and wooyoung leans down to press a kiss to your lips. the kiss was messy at best, full of tongue and spit and teeth clashing together. you feel hongjoong's hand pull away right before wooyoung is stilling inside of you. his cum painting your walls white and filling you up.

his hips continue to move and after a few more thrusts you are finally clenching down around his cock and coming as well. you and wooyoung look at each other, sweat covering you both and you brush some of his stray hairs out of his face.

wooyoung kisses you once more before pulling out of you and rolling over beside you on the bed. hongjoong lets out laugh as he sits up and looks at the two of you.

"have fun?" he teases as he watches wooyoung roll over and koala hugs you. you make a grime face at how wooyoung's sweaty body sticks to your own, but you don't say anything.

"yeah," wooyoung says cuddling up to you.

"think you guys are ready for round two?" hongjoong asks, palming himself over his underwear. the two of you make eye contact before you're biting your lip, thighs rubbing together as wooyoung's cum slowly drips out of you.

"of course, we got all day," you say with a smile making both males laugh at your response.

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blooberrries · 18 days

Text

「 extemporaneous 」 — 07 ☾

— pairing: multi; shoto x reader, izuku x reader (so FAR...) — genre: hybrid au, slow burn-ish, reverse harem — wc: 3.4k — rated: nsfw; heavy petting (?) — notes: it has the barest sprinkle of spice. soon we will arrive upon the porn with plot...... soon....... save me

You've never really had much to do with hybrids, existing in your own little bubble for a majority of your life. That comes to an end when your friend phones you for help and somehow you end up taking two hybrids off of her hands while they recuperate in the wake of an unfortunate incident. But when the time comes that they have to leave, will you really want them to go?

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Recently, the boys have taken to accompanying you on your morning exercises.

The weather is getting cooler, and with it the days shorter, so you’re not particularly opposed. Well, you wouldn’t be anyway because you enjoy spending time with them and there is also no way in hell that you would miss the opportunity to see them work out.

(For scientific reasons, of course. Hybrids are built a little different, after all. You’re definitely not a pervert and any source saying otherwise constitutes defamation.)

You’re on your back, having sprawled on the cool grass around ten minutes ago in an attempt to catch your breath after a run. You might have bitten off more than you could chew by telling them they could set the pace, but you’d sooner stub your own toe than admit the difference in your fitness levels. Thankfully you’ve regained control of your lungs and are no longer heaving, and they appear none the wiser to your momentary health crisis. You are pleased to maintain even scraps of your dignity at this point.

“I like this park.” A voice muses from your left. You allow your head to roll slightly, eyes falling upon the stretched form of the canine hybrid beside you. A breeze rustles the snowy hair that brushes his right cheekbone. “Quiet. Peaceful. Also, quite pretty.”

You hum in agreement; you’re in a meadow-like area that you can reach by following the footpath for a kilometre or so. Trees loom tall on the outskirts, creating verdant walls of green that curl the small sanctuary into their embrace as warmth from the sun pools in the centre and glimmers off the dewy grass. Instead of speaking, you allow a moment for the reply from Izuku that you can feel coming. It enters the air like clockwork barely a second later.

“Isn’t it, Sho?” Izuku tilts his head back, the sun filtering through foliage to paint his skin in swathes of gold. “Plus, it’s nice seeing so many other hybrids come through here every so often.”

Shoto lets out a noise in agreement. In an odd moment of serendipity, a family of hybrids accompanied by a single human emerge from where the path disappears into the treeline in the distance. The child swinging between the two adult hybrids couldn’t be any more than five years old, and the second they lay eyes on the great expanse of grass woven with patches of clovers and wildflowers before them, a delighted peal of laughter rings in the air.

Before you can think twice, your eyes are moving to scan the expressions of your companions in curiosity. From what you recall, an intact family unit isn’t very common for hybrids, though Nejire told you once that it is becoming increasingly the norm. Hybrids from the initial generations, those born in a sterile lab, are now creating families and small communities of their own as the movement for their rights strengthens and gains more traction over time. It makes you happy to see it in action, though a part of you worries that the sight might bring up memories for your companions that aren’t particularly pleasant.

Then again, you have no idea about their backgrounds, really.

Thankfully, the shift in their expressions isn’t sad or melancholy. Rather they appear contemplative, bordering on nostalgic. Curiosity lingers in an unspoken question on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t dare to voice it.

It’s Shoto that volunteers to fill the silence first.

“I wonder if that kid gets lonely,” he muses. “It doesn’t look like they have any siblings.”

You blink, something about the way he says that sparking a new curiosity. “… You had siblings?”

He shrugs, a small smile curling at the corners of his lips. He glances at you and then Izuku from the corner of his eye. “Well, maybe not in the typical sense. We were often created in batches, so we definitely weren’t alone.”

“You have company, but in all you don’t get to spend much time with the other hybrids. The adoption process can start young sometimes,” Izuku supplies, shaking his head to dislodge a leaf clinging to his forest-hued curls. “Shoto and I actually ‘grew up’ together, in a way.”

The confusion must be evident on your face, because the rabbit hybrid laughs and reaches out to pinch your cheek. You frown but can’t be bothered to lift your arm and bat him away, and so he remains the unspoken victor.

“I guess you could call it that.” Shoto snorts, reaching up with both arms to stretch. The movement lifts the edge of his shirt to reveal smooth honey-toned skin and you fight for your life to keep your eyes in a respectful location. “I think our labs ended up merging at some point and from then on we kind of got stuck together. Neither of us were ever officially adopted.”

That takes you by surprise, actually. Ignoring how visually stunning they are, both hybrids are pleasant and sweet, sincere in everything they do, and a pleasure to be around. You can safely say the addition of them into your life and routine has been a blessing. So when you take in his words, your brain can’t quite comprehend the idea of someone not wanting them.

A part of your feels bad for them – you know it isn’t the case for all hybrids, but for some of them the act of ‘adoption’ means a lot – but at the same time, you’re unsure whether you would have ever ended up meeting them if they had been adopted earlier in their lives.

It feels selfish, but… deep down, you’re a little glad that you were able to know them as a result of it.

Shoto lowers his arms and twists to face you a little more, eyes surveying your supine form. You have a feeling that he is looking for the best place to curl up and your suspicions are confirmed when he zeroes in on your abdomen and turns back around so he can recline with his head resting on the soft swell of your stomach. You don’t even bother trying not to blush. You’ll just blame the heat of the sun if you need to. Or even the exercise. Plenty of excuses.

“It’s good to see so many kids around,” Izuku hums, blowing some hair out of his face and allowing his eyes to flutter closed after. It’s a slight redirection of the current topic, but you don’t particularly mind. “There’s more than I thought there would be, considering the current ratio.”

This piques your interest further, tickling something familiar in the back of your mind you’d heard once upon a time. “The current ratio…?”

“Of male to female hybrids,” Shoto supplies helpfully in his soft, leisurely tone, turning his head and nuzzling into your abdomen just below your ribs. You have to physically hold down the responding shudder that wants to roll over your body. “It’s pretty disproportionate, currently. Something like one female hybrid for every two –- or is it three? -– male hybrids.” “Oh shit,” you mutter, the words leaving you before you can think to censor yourself. “Tough odds.”

Shoto snorts, and Izuku looks to be fighting a grin. Surprisingly, it is the hybrid currently taking up real estate on your stomach that continues.

“It might look like that,” Shoto hums, his head tilting just enough for his mismatched eyes to trail and lock onto your own. The slightest curl plays around the corner of his mouth. “But we’re pretty adaptive, you know. Most hybrids tend toward polyandry.”

Oh. Oh. Nejire never told you that.

Shoto’s eyes, clear and glimmering in the morning sunlight, track every minute movement and change in your face. His ears flick ever so slightly, no doubt catching the slight uptick in your heartbeat as well as the warmth gathering in your face.

You have to wet your lips in order for your question to greet the air. “Why, um-- is there a reason behind the ratio?”

Izuku hums a pleasant noise, like he’s been quizzed on something that he knows the answer to.

“Men – or in this case, male hybrids – are easier to clone and create than women. Something about having two X chromosomes makes it a little more complicated, if I remember correctly.” Izuku tilts his head, eyes glazing as he falls deeper into his thoughts. “That’s probably why we all ended up having the kind of instincts that we did. Being excessively territorial is detrimental to the population as a whole when one gender greatly outnumbers the other.”

“Plus, more chances for females to conceive when there are multiple--”

“RIGHT, yeah, there’s also that.” Izuku lets out a loud, embarrassed laugh, cutting the canine hybrid off before he can continue. For his benefit, you continue to ignore the heat making itself known on your face and fight to swallow your own amused chortle. You did think it had been a little too long since the last time Shoto said something outrageous with the most unbothered face. The rabbit hybrid continues, almost like he can’t help himself.

“Even so, the bond that a, um… mated pair share is super important. Hybrids have a tendency to bond deeply in general, but I suppose it is doubly so for males. Definitely more matriarchal in nature, hybrid communities.”

Bonds? Mated pairs? You feel kind of faint as your brain works to reconcile all the information you’ve received in the last five minutes. “Huh… I see.”

Izuku suddenly looks oddly restless, almost… nervous .Evidently taking a page out of Shoto’s book, he turns and dives to bury his face in your side, eliciting a ticklish yelp from you as he does so. He ends up pulling on a lock of Shoto’s hair that had fallen over your side by accident, and the hybrid lets loose an unimpressed, low rumble. Ignoring the noise, Izuku takes a few deep breaths against your side, digging his nose into your shirt.

Sincerely, you don’t think you’re going to be able to survive this. You consider sending a prayer heavenward.

As if things weren’t already embarrassing enough for you, your stomach chooses this exact moment to let out a forlorn rumble.

Shoto snorts softly, lifting off of you and rolling to a stand with such grace, you’re genuinely envious for a moment.

“Probably best we head back and get some food in our bellies.”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice.

---------

This is a losing battle.

Granted, it’s not like you’re really fighting it at all anymore (arguably didn’t even really fight it to begin with), but still. It feels like everything is somehow snowballing, in a way that you’re not particularly against despite your better judgement.

Somehow, your two housemates have gotten clingier. They stick to you like shadows, scenting you in an almost possessive manner whenever they get the chance and more than a few times you’ve caught them sniffing you for a whiff of your own scent when they think you’re too occupied to notice.

It’s doing a number on your already frayed self-control.

The brief but very informative conversation the three of you had in the park almost a week ago has helped alleviate some of the guilt you carried for being attracted to both of them at the same time, and also planted some ideas in your head that you haven’t been able to pry out despite your best efforts.

Currently, your dilemma comes from the fact that not only are you attracted to them both, but you like them both.

It’s still budding, not at a catastrophic level as of yet, and technically speaking you would be able to be with them physically without spiralling when they eventually leave. Probably. Actually, you’re torn between not wanting to do anything to save yourself the pain in the long run, and doing something so that you can treasure and make the most of the time you currently have together.

You’d probably regret it if they ended up leaving without you addressing whatever this is between you. However, you also know yourself enough to know you’re too sappy to be able to part with them seamlessly if you did act on it.

This is torture. You almost wish they’d just make the decision for you.

Apart from those differences, the routine the three of you remains mostly unchanged. Unfortunately, that leaves plenty of opportunity for you to overthink and dwell as you complete your bedtime routine. You almost reach for a cheeky drink just so you might put an end to the thoughts and go to bed in peace. Somehow, you manage to imitate meditation enough that you eventually drift off without the need for a nightcap.

Something rouses you from sleep earlier than anticipated, though. The soft creak of your door has you blinking awake, eyes less bleary than anticipated.

It’s pitch black at first, but your eyes quickly adjust enough to see as two figures slink into the room and over to your bed. You feel the mattress dip with their weight as they climb atop, a soft rumble reaching your ears that you know to be coming from a certain canine hybrid.

“What is it?” you ask, wiping your eyes in an attempt to clear any remaining sleep. It’s harder to focus on their forms than you expect. “Is everything okay?”

“Yona.”

It’s a throaty whine that answers your question, timbre no doubt belonging to Izuku. The slimmer of the two slips closer, a hand coming to grasp the one you’d reached out without realising. Your heart stutters in your chest, breath catching in your throat. The smell of pine and jasmine twine together and brush your senses. Of course you’ve smelt whatever cologne your two hybrid roommates wear before, but never so strongly. It’s making butterflies come to life in the pit of your belly.

“What is it?” you ask again, sitting up a little more. Izuku brings your hand to his cheek, nuzzling into your palm. Your fingertips brush his fluffy curls and you find yourself winding them into the locks without a second thought.

While Izuku seems to be sitting back on his haunches for the moment, Shoto has no qualms about approaching further, his large hand brushing against the skin of your shoulder, revealed by sheets that fell when you rose earlier, before trailing down your arm and then back up. His palm settles against your neck, scorchingly hot, and the length of his fingers wrap around your nape. Your heart kicks up again, an excited, frantic patter.

Izuku’s lips press against your palm, searing affection into your flesh. You can hardly keep track of what is happening, attention torn from one to the other in rapid succession.

A soft whine escapes from Shoto this time, and he leans forward to nuzzle his face into your neck, dragging his nose along the line of your jaw. It tickles, and sends a shiver down the length of your spine.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he murmurs, mouth hot against your neck as his lips shape the words. You feel his ears flick and catch against your hair. You want to lift a hand and touch him, but for some reason your body refuses to obey. “Nothing wrong, just need you.”

You feel like your heart has stopped completely in your chest, a breathless moment passing before it returns to its chaotic gallop. You barely have the presence of mind to force out, “What…?”

The hybrid’s lips begin to press in a heated trail down your neck and across your collarbone, ignoring your murmur completely. His free arm slips around your side and behind you, pulling you close quick enough that a soft noise of surprise escapes you. Heat is beginning to set your veins alight, blood turning to magma. Your thighs clench as Shoto’s teeth scrape against your clavicle before he sucks the flesh into his mouth.

Oh my god.

Having moved you closer to the centre of the bed with his manoeuvre, there is now room for Izuku to sidle up against your other side, and he happily takes the opportunity. Your hand is dropped for only a moment before he picks it up again from his new angle, returning it to where it was. He then leans forward, burying his nose into your hair and letting out a contented groan – something he’d done earlier in the day when the three of you had been cuddling on the couch. It had made butterflies burst into your stomach then, but now it makes your body thrum in anticipation.

“You smell so good, Yona, you’re so lovely,” Izuku murmurs, the low cadence of his voice eliciting another shiver across your shoulders. “We want you, need you… don’t you want us too?”

The words leap from your throat, unbidden. “Of course I do.”

A pleased, throaty groan slips from Shoto as his mouth moves lower, towards the neckline of the singlet you’d worn to bed. You weren’t sure what to expect, but it still takes you by surprise when he drags his lips over the material, following the swell of your breast until he comes across your peak, straining against the material. He takes it into the wet heat of his mouth, and you can’t help but gasp at the sensations that reach you through the damp material of your shirt. Arousal shoots straight to your core.

Again, you will your hand to lift and tangle in his hair, but the limb remains by your side. You barely have time to feel the resulting confusion and frustration before Izuku’s free hand is trailing along your side, nails dragging along the skin of your hips and tracing the line of your waistband. The ache beginning to make itself known between your legs is suddenly all you can think about, and this time when you will your hips to shift, rocking up against his hand, they listen.

Izuku inhales softly, sounding pleased at your reaction. You feel like you’re going a little bit insane.

“Yeah? You want us? Want us to touch you, like this?”

Words catch in your throat and so you settle for an emphatic nod, eager for the touching to continue – especially if it meant Shoto was going to keep doing those things with his mouth. As though summoned by the thought, he clamps his teeth around your nipple in a light bite, sending shocks of pleasure over your skin. A moan tumbles from your throat, thighs squeezing in a sad attempt at friction.

You need more. You need more, but your stupid limbs won’t listen to you, and Izuku’s hand is going everywhere but where you need and want it most.

“Izuku,” you whine, the sound bordering on pathetic. You can hardly think amongst the drowsy haze of pleasure fogging your mind. “Please…”

Please touch me, you want to say. Your fingers twitch with the urge to grasp his hand and move it to your core, but they remain woefully unresponsive. Instead of your desired destination, his hand lifts to pinch and tug your neglected nipple softly. He seems to revel in the noises the actions elicit.

Shoto releases your abused nipple with a soft noise, leaning up to nip and lick under your ear. The sweet scent of jasmine threatens to swallow you whole.

“Tell us what you want, lovely,” he murmurs, voice thick and catching in his throat. His teeth scrape your neck and you tilt your head back, wrenching your eyes closed as Izuku times it with a firm pinch.

A rush of different desires overtake you at once, so many you can hardly choose only one to voice. You strain to lift your arm and cup his cheek, willing it desperately to move. “I-”

Your arm jerks, breaking free of its invisible bonds, and your eyes snap open. The room is quiet, save for your panting breaths, and you are entirely under the covers. A cursory glance around the room once your eyes adjust reveals you are, in fact, alone. Your bedroom door is closed, just as you’d left it before going to bed.

It takes a moment for you to be awake enough that realisation comes crashing through you. You just had a wet dream about your housemates.

…. You’re so fucked.

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