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brewsterispunkk · 5 months

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marriage of convenience: part 5

pairing: pero tovar x f!reader

WC: 10.1k (longest part yet!)

summary: reader’s relationship w/tovar develops. she and lisbeth dare an adventure.

a/n: thank you to everyone who has stuck with this. it has been months (!!) since I updated this story so if you’re still here—thank you. i hope u enjoy this extra long update :)

series masterlist

PART FIVE

“My love,” your mother called as you made your way to the door, rushing. Tovar was already annoyed at how late you were running, waiting outside, and you didn’t want to keep him waiting for long. He was already unpleasant enough.

“Yes?” You threw over your shoulder, already halfway out the door.

“Will you see Lisbeth today?”

“I expect so.”

“Give these to her for me,” she handed you a bundle wrapped in linen–herbs, of course. Your mother was practically an apothecary at this point. “They’re for her mother’s headaches. And when you stop by Olga’s today, see if she has any of the lemon-honey concoction she uses during the cold months.”

You puzzled. It was late May–your family would not be in need of such a thing until mid-autumn at the latest.

“Why? Will she even have some? It is early summer.”

“I expect she will,” Your mother walks in from the kitchen. “She always has some reserves for the occasional late spring cold. It is for your father. His breathing has gotten worse.”

Your stomach turns to stone, but you force yourself to nod as you take your basket and leave through the rickety front door.

Of course. Of course it was for your father. You silently said a prayer to whatever god was listening for his recovery, like you always did whenever he took a turn for the worse.

He had always had issues with his health, ever since he came back from the war when you were twelve.

It began with a leg injury that never really recovered–he’d taken an arrow to the shoulder and fallen off his horse, breaking his leg in the process. If your mother had been there, he would have healed almost completely and even been able to walk again, but the encampment he had been in had no one with healing knowledge. The wound had festered, according to your mother, and your father was lucky to be alive. He hadn’t walked fully since.

The injury had caused your father to have to sell his blacksmith’s shop in town–the one Tovar apprenticed at now.

His health had been slowly declining ever since. Last winter, he suffered a chill and a bout of a coughing illness that took his ability to breath unencumbered, the winter before that, he’d suffered fainting spells and lost feeling in his injured leg. Until recently, he’d been able to hobble down the stairs with the help of your mother, but in the past weeks, he has been too weak to even make it downstairs for supper. You feared the worst, as you always did.

Graciela and James, your two siblings with enough sense to know something was wrong, were more hopeful than you.

“He will recover soon. He always does.”

Grace had told you the night before, over mending by the fire. Your mother was so weary these days that the two of you had to do much of the household chores. “Womens’ work,’ Petyr called it. You dreaded it and found it odious, but it was your duty. You would not let it fall to your mother, who had enough on her plate keeping the family afloat.

You wished you could believe your sister, but you were always the more cynical one.

You’d spent the better part of your life waiting for the next hammer to fall; waiting for the day when your father didn’t recover and the family was left in the care of the next male relative in line. Petyr. The very thought made your blood turn cold.

If Petyr treated you the way he did now, when your father was alive and coherent, you had no desire to discover what horrors would await you when your father departed from this world.

There had been a time when you dreamed of marriage; yearned for it, even. There had been years when you and Lisbeth, on May Day, had gathered ten different kinds of wildflowers and put them under your pillow to dream of your true love, a practice your mother swore led her parents to find each other.

But as you grew older, more well-versed in the ways of the world, it dawned on you that real life was rarely like the tales that bards sang of. At least, for people like you. You also knew that if you ever dreamed of escaping your village, of seeing all the world had to offer, marriage would end all aspirations of that.

You squared your shoulders as you stepped out into the fresh morning air in front of your family’s small home, urging all thoughts of your father’s illness to the back of your head.

“Took you long enough,” Tovar grunted from where he leaned on the small wooden fence meant to keep the family goat in. “We will be late. The blacksmith will not like it.”

You rolled your eyes, opening the gate and walking past him onto the small road that led through the forest and into town.

“Then remind him who it is you live with. He will have no qualms.”

It was one of the things you hated most about him; his tendency to take everything so seriously.

“Just because your father trained him does not mean he will extend me grace,” Tovar grumbled from behind you. You could hear the buckles bump against the metal of his armor.

That was something that puzzled you; you didn’t know why he still wore it—he wasn’t at war, and nothing so exciting as a sword fight ever happened in your village.

“And why not?” You asked, entering the treeline. The trees cast shadows on the dirt road in the early morning light. “He would do so with William or any one of my brothers if they expressed interest in the family trade.”

Tovar huffed in annoyance from behind you and your lips curled into a smirk. It had become one of your pastimes in the weeks that he’d been escorting you to and from the market. You liked to see how annoyed he could get.

“I am not like your brothers,” he said. “Or William for that matter.”

You chuckled—that much was obvious. Your brothers and your cousin were much more open, more kind than Tovar, who barely expressed any emotion besides annoyance and occasional anger.

“That I know,” you threw back at him. “No one would ever accuse you of being as sunny as them.”

“That is not what I meant.”

You puzzled and turned behind you, realizing what he was implying.

“You think it is because you are foreign?” You asked in disbelief. “From another kingdom?”

Tovar kept walking, face impassive, not betraying any emotion but annoyance.

“It is the same in this part of the world as it is in others,” he says like it’s nothing. “They need but look at me for a moment to tell that I am unlike them.”

You rolled your eyes. So dramatic.

“This village is used to foreigners,” you said matter-of-factly. “We see strange people from strange places every day. People trade everything from silk from the far east to salt from the continent to the south. You aren’t so special.”

Tovar just leveled you with a dry look, and you took it as a sign to keep talking.

“Your scowl and that armor don’t help,” you added with a smirk, swinging your basket back and forth beside you as you walked.

“What is wrong with my armor?” Tovar sounded puzzled. You stifled a laugh.

“Really?” You turned your head to stare at him, but found his brows furrowed in genuine confusion. You sighed. “You walk into the village everyday in full armor. Like you expect someone to put a dagger in your side at any moment. You do not smile, do not try to speak with anyone unless it is for trade. You should not be surprised people are wary of you.”

“I wear my armor everywhere except when I sleep. It is—”

“A habit, I’m sure,” you finished for him. “But still, this is a peaceful village. The most violence we see is from a brawl at the tavern or a rowdy group of traders on leave. Wearing full battle armor sends the message that you don’t trust us. And that makes people nervous.”

It was true—there hadn’t been even a skirmish on your lands in years. Not since the war, when the old Lord died and power passed to his son. Since then, your land had known peace.

Tovar huffed what you almost thought was a laugh, but when you looked back at him, his mouth was downturned and his eyes were narrow.

“I don’t trust you.”

At that, you laughed, a deep thing from deep in your stomach. If someone told you Tovar slept with a knife beneath his head, you’d believe them. You weren’t even sure he trusted William.

“That I believe,” you shook your head and continued down the dirt road to town, leaving a grumbling Tovar trudging behind you.

—-

In the recent weeks, you and Tovar had begun to form a kind of begrudging companionship.

You still didn’t like him–not in the least. He was uncouth and rude. He never exchanged pleasantries with anyone at the market and you were sure you’d never seen him smile. Not even once. And the two of you often bickered. So much so that your mother had taken to seating you on opposite sides of the table at dinner to avoid as much conflict as possible.

Hence, the begrudging part. The companionship merely meant that you had begun to be able to tolerate his presence. Barely.

Your brother hadn’t reared his ugly head in the recent weeks either, being either too drunk or preoccupied with other things to notice you. That was a blessing in and of itself. You still hadn’t really gotten over the embarrassment that had come over you at Tovar seeing your bruises. You knew it was what caused him to volunteer to escort you to town daily and still, you hadn’t addressed it with him.

Still, as May slogged into June, you were stuck with him. Unless you wanted your drunk, unpredictable, brute of a brother to accompany you to the townsquare every other morning, you had to learn to endure the company of the quiet Spaniard.

And endure you did.

You’d learned not to ask questions; whenever you did, you were either met with silence, or a stilted, annoyed response. In fact, the conversation you’d shared this morning was the longest conversation you’d had with him.

That was just one thing that set Tovar apart from your cousin, William. Both men had seen so much of the world, lived so many different lives, and while William spoke of his time abroad with bright eyed and excited words, Tovar’s past hung over him like a heavy cloud. You didn’t know what the grizzled mercenary had experienced during his time traveling, but whatever it was, he didn’t want to talk about it.

Which was difficult for you—you could listen to William talk for hours about his time on the road. But, you’d heard all of William’s stories. Tovar kept whatever tales of his travels closer to his chest than his armor. And you resented him for it.

You resented that with all the freedom in the world, with a lifetime of stories and lived experiences under his belt, with the blessing of being born as a man in this world, he had the nerve to act the way he did: angry at the world, scowling at every kind face.

The absence of that—of freedom—pulsed and throbbed deep in your chest. And all you could feel was anger.

The sights and smells of the town’s center flooded your senses when you reached the market. You took a deep breath and tried to savor it: the aroma of spices from far-off places, the sharp smell of lemons from Arabia, the colorful hues of silk and fabric, the bustle of business and trade. It was as much of the wide world you were afforded, so you took it in with wide eyes and a smile.

You looked down to your basket, mentally going over the deliveries and trades you had to make before meeting with Lisbeth by the bakery. You were fingering a sprig of stray lavender when Tovar nudged your shoulder, breaking your train of thought. You turned and glared at him.

“I will leave you here,” he mumbled, looking around you and scanning the faces of the people bustling by. “You will meet me at the blacksmith’s when you are finished.”

“I will, will I?” You asked, feeling your temper flare. You hated when he gave you orders–like you were an animal and not a person.

Tovar leveled you with a dry look, before rolling his eyes himself.

“Do not be late,” he said, before adjusting his satchel and walking away.

You glared at his back as he went, cursing the broad expanse of his shoulders. Not only was he an ass, but he was a handsome ass. That was even worse.

With a sigh, you set about making your first delivery, already planning on being late to meet Tovar later in the day.

- -

By the time you’d completed your second delivery, the sun was high in the sky and strong. You could feel the back of your neck glisten and knew that when you looked in the mirror at the end of the day, there would be freckles dusted across your cheeks.

You’d already delivered one order of tea to the miller’s wife, who promised you a satchel of grain in return by week’s end, and traded the town seamstress for some new thread. Your stomach buzzed with excitement at the news you’d heard as you left the seamstress’s parlor.

It had been a normal business dealing: the seamstress, an elderly woman who had been a friend of your grandmother, had long been a customer of your mother’s. You knew her well. Your mother had sent you to get new thread for mending, but you always stayed for a cup of tea whenever the seamstress, Agnetha, whenever you traded with her.

“You look more like your grandmother every time I see you,” she said, sitting down gingerly on a stool behind the wooden counter at the front of the shop.

You smiled at her. You’d never met your paternal grandmother, but you had always been told that you resembled her—the same facial structure, the same hair, the same stubborn spirit. It warmed you to hear it from someone who knew her so well.

“Thank you,” you said, finishing the cup of herbal tea and setting it down. “And thank you for the thread. My mother sends her regards. She apologizes that she can’t be here to see you in person.”

“Oh, pay it no mind dear,” Agnetha’s gnarled hand pats yours. “With a household to run and that business with your father, god only knows how she can manage it all.”

You clench your teeth at the mention of your father. That was what it was like living in a village of this size: no one’s business was private.

“I was sorry to hear about your father, dear,” Agnetha continued. “Do let me know if I can do anything to help.”

“Thank you,” your lips spread into a tight-lipped smile.

It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the sentiment–you did—it was just that you had grown tired of hearing the same sentiments from everyone. It was suffocating, having everyone know the trials of your family.

“I must take my leave, I’m afraid,” you said after a beat. “I must make haste if I am to finish all my business by day’s end.”

“Of course,” Agnetha waved you off, but then held one finger up, turning back to the back room of her shop. “But give me one moment! I had forgotten—I have something for you.”

You puzzled but obeyed, your interest piqued. What could she possibly have for you?

After a moment, the white-haired woman reappeared with a bushel of flowers with small, white petals: yarrow. She held them out to you.

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“What is–”

“For tonight, my dear,” she leaned in and smiled at you like you were in on some secret. Your confusion grew.

Nothing save for seasonal festivals and feasts ever happened in your village. Besides, if there was anything happening tonight, you were sure you’d know about it.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean—”

“Oh, hush,” Agnetha cackled. “I remember it all too well when I was your age. Your grandmother and I snuck off to Geris many a time when we were girls. These are for your hair. It is said they will bring you good fortune and a happy husband if worn on the feast of Saint Julia.”

“Geris,” you mumbled, all of it clicking into place.

Geris was a neighboring village—a town really—nearly an hour walk north of your own. It was larger and a bigger hub for trade than your own home, as it bordered the sea. Petyr would often go there to drink or gamble with his friends, sometimes not returning for days on end. You had never been.

“There is a festival in Geris today?” You asked Agnetha, who now looked as confused as you had been moments ago.

“Why yes,” she laughs. “The largest one of the year—Saint Julia is the patron saint of Geris. I–did you not know?”

“No,” you laughed, suddenly giddy with excitement, already plotting in your head how you could sneak off to experience it for yourself.

“How the times have changed,” Agnetha hummed. “When I was young, it was every mama’s worst nightmare for her daughter to sneak off to the festival of Saint Julia.”

“Is it still as grand as you remember it?”

“I imagine so,” she smiled. “The dancing is what I loved the most.”

“Well then,” you smiled at her. “I believe I shall have to dance, won’t I?” You took the flowers from her. “With flowers in my hair.”

Agnetha smiled a secretive grin and patted your hand.

“Do, dear. Twirl a little extra for me,” she said. “Now, be on your way—and be safe!”

You thanked her and left, walking out into the balmy warmth of mid-morning, feeling all-of-a-sudden more hopeful than you had that morning.

You met Lisbeth by the miller’s pond just before noon, like you’d planned. It had been your meeting place whenever the two of you were in town for years. Growing up, since your father’s property bordered here, you’d often meet in the forest. But, once you’d become old enough to do some of the household work trading in the village, you’d had to find a place to meet during the day.

Now, you buzzed with excitement, the news of the festival on the tip of your tongue.

Recently, you’d been itching to do anything to distract yourself from the monotony of life in your village. As the days got warmer, more and more traders passed through, bringing with them goods and stories from far-away lands. Lands you longed to see, but knew you never would. You longed to stretch your wings, if only a little. Sneaking off to Geris would be the perfect opportunity to do that. Now the only issue was convincing Lisbeth.

You wiggled your toes in your shoes as you saw her approach, eager what you’d heard back to her. You just hoped she would be willing to go with you.

While Lisbeth understood your desires to leave, explore, and see the world, they were not desires she shared. She had always, ever since you could remember, wanted to be married. She sighed at tales of princesses and knights, longed to fall in love and have children. And you knew that when she did that, it would be beautiful. Still, a small part of you envied her for her dreams. You wished that that could be enough for you.

As she approached you, Lisbeth rooted through her basket, looking for something buried in its depths.

“Please tell me you have the herbs for my mother’s headaches,” she groaned as she came to stand beside you, leaning on the wooden fence by the pond. “If I have to listen to her moaning for one more day, I will bash my skull against the wall.”

You grinned at her.

“What?” She asked, finally looking at you. She furrowed her eyebrows. “Why do you have that look—”

“I have something to tell you.”

“Oh dear God,” she sighed. “What is it this time?”

“Before I begin, you must promise to at least consider my proposition,” you raised your eyebrows. Lisbeth sighed your name. “Promise.”

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll consider it. Now tell me, I am withering away in suspense.”

“Alright,” you smiled. “We always complain that nothing ever happens here, right?”

“Yes.”

“And we moan about wanting to see more of the rest of the world, of the rest of the country—”

“I would say you complain more than I—”

“Yes, yes, whatever,” you waved her away, causing her to laugh. “Tonight, there is to be a festival in Geris. If we leave after sunset, when our families go to sleep, we can be home before dawn—”

“Geris?” Lisbeth’s eyes widened. “That is madness—”

“It isn’t!” You assured her. “We have walked further distances many times to trade before. The only difference is—”

“It will be night!” Lisbeth shook her head. “After reports of criminals in the woods in the surrounding villages, do you really think it smart to go venturing to Geris after dark?”

You sighed.

“No,” she raised her hand. “Do not try to argue. You have a chaperone now because of the dangers. Even your father can see we are at risk.”

Your heart sank.

“Lisbeth,” you reasoned. “That happened weeks ago. Nothing more has happened–it was likely ruffians passing through. Traders, nothing more.”

“You are mistaken,” she folded her arms. “I heard tell this morning of another attack on a young couple. At a village only a few leagues away.”

“What?”

“It was a farmer’s daughter from Frayley,” she elaborated. “She snuck away in the night to meet with a boy from the village. Her lover was killed, and the girl was ruined. Her honor sullied, barely living.”

Your breath left your chest, a familiar clamminess taking over your hands.

This story was nothing new; when you were younger, before the new Lord of your county had taken power, such attacks were commonplace. The forests around your village had been infested for a time—small bands of ruffians and criminals who would carry maidens away in the night and burn houses to the ground after looting them. There were several girls in your village who had been abducted and held for ransom, and one who had even been forcibly taken to wife. By the time the Lord of the county had gotten word, they had already been married in the eyes of god. There was nothing to be done.

It had been something that had enraged your mother. You were too young to worry about such things, but you have vivid memories of the doors being always bolted shut, your mother sleeping with a dagger beneath her pillow.

The thought of such uncertainty and violence returning to your land made your stomach turn.

“I see,” you said.

“Yes,” Lisbeth sighed. “I wish to explore, but not at the risk of our lives and honor.”

You smiled at her sadly and nodded.

“Two women alone in the wood at night is a recipe for disaster anyway,” she continued. “How I envy men.”

You threw your head back and laughed at that, having had the same thought multiple times.

You wondered often what navigating the world would be like if you weren’t seen as a target simply for your sex. You would ponder what the world would look like if you could walk alone, unaccompanied, how different your life would be if you were able to work, own land, travel alone. If you had the liberties afforded to the likes of William, of Tovar. The very thought of it made your stomach turn with envy.

That’s when it hit you: William. Tovar. And you knew what you had to do.

- -

When you arrived at Olga’s little stone cottage at the edge of the village, your brow was damp with perspiration.

The sun was high, well past mid-day, and you knew you had to meet Tovar soon. You would be late, just like you’d planned. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d kept him waiting and you knew that he’d be in a sour mood for the rest of the day–well, sourer than usual–and that was detrimental to your plan. You needed him agreeable if it was to work.

You sighed as you made your way up the dusty road to her door.

Olga was someone who you held fondness for. She was an old woman, a widow with white hair and a thick accent. Her husband was a merchant who left her a reasonable sum of money when he died, so she lived comfortably and alone, something you’d never seen a woman do before her. She was from a country from the far South, Aragon, and she had forsaken her homeland for her husband. For love. It all sounded so romantic to you that you almost forgot your own personal objections to marriage.

You have memories from your younger years of your mother and her exchanging herbal wisdom over tea. She educated your mother on the herbal remedies of her homeland and in exchange, your mother shared her knowledge of the plants native to your own kingdom.

As you approached her cottage, you heard the faint sound of voices conversing inside made you puzzle. Olga was a generally reclusive woman–it was rare for her to have visitors.

You approached her door and knocked gently, calling inside.

“Olga?” You called, hoping your voice would carry through the open window.

“Ah, yes! Come in, come in,” she called back, voice painted with laughter.

You nudged open the door and took in the small sitting room in her cottage. On the wooden table in the center there was a clay bowl filled with oranges, no doubt traded from a merchant. Your mouth watered. You knew oranges were commonplace in the South, but here they were a luxury few could afford, including yourself.

“In here,” Olga’s voice called, louder now, from the adjoining room which served as a kitchen.

What you saw made you stop in your tracks.

There, standing in Olga’s well-furnished kitchen, leaning against the worn brick of her stove, stood Tovar, arms folded in front of him, across his face a genuine smile. A smile. It was the first time you saw one cross his face. Your breath left your chest.

Of course he’d have a gorgeous smile, you thought spitefully.

You hadn’t realized you were frozen until a warm hand on your shoulder startled you.

Olga looked at you expectantly, the lines on her face graceful in the early afternoon light. You blinked.

“What?”

“I said, have you met Pero, mi amor?” She smiled at you softly. “He is a blacksmith’s apprentice in town. New.”

You stumble over your words for a moment, tongue like lead in your mouth.

“Si, Doña.” Tovar–Pero’s–eyes caught yours from across the room. “We are acquainted.”

“Ha!” Olga laughed, throwing her head back. “Doña he calls me. You flatter me, caballero. I am no Doña.”

You smiled at them, shifting on your feet. You knew nothing save a word or two of the strange language they spoke. Castillian, you thought.

“He speaks to me as if I am a high-born lady, child,” Olga said, sensing your confusion.

“You are mistaken,” Pero smiled slightly at the older woman. “I know una mujer honrada when I see one, Doña.”

Olga leveled him with a wry smile and held up a finger, wagging it at him.

“You watch out for this one,” she looked over to you. “He is a charmer.”

You couldn’t help the snort that escaped your lips. Of all the words you would use to describe your surly bodyguard, a charmer was not one of them. Pero shoots you a withering glare at your laugh.

“What is so humorous?” He tilted his head.

“Forgive me,” you smirked, sensing his wounded pride. “I wouldn’t use the word ‘charmer’ to describe your countenance.”

Olga tilted her head, hands finding her hips.

“How exactly do the two of you know each other?”

“I am a companion of her cousin’s,” Pero’s gaze moved to the woman in between you. “We have traveled together for… too long. Her family is providing us with lodging until we are able to find work and continue on.”

“Well, a small world indeed,” she smiled. “How have you found our village, then? Quite different than Toledo, no?”

Pero chuckled, shaking his head and looking down.

“Quite,” he said. “In truth, it has been a long time since I have journeyed home. But compared to other places my trade has brought me, it is not so different. Though I have found the people of this kingdom more skeptical of outsiders than my own homeland.”

The admission surprised you; you had spent months trying to pry any bit of information out of Tovar you could to no avail. And now, with Olga, he was an open book. It made you wonder: was it just you that he had an aversion to sharing with? You bristled at the thought.

“Yes, it is something to adjust to,” Olga patted Pero on his shoulder. “They are not used to Southerners here. We must stick together.”

Olga turned to you.

“What brings you here, child? Do you bring me more concoctions from your mother?”

Your smile thinned and you clasped your hands in front of you.

“No,” you admitted. “It’s my father. I was sent to see if you have any of your lemon-honey tonic left from the cold months. His breathing has gotten worse.”

Olga’s lips pressed together in a sympathetic smile.

“Of course,” she said. “I keep some reserves in the cellar. I’ll go get them now, and I’ll have another batch brewed specially for him in a fortnight.”

“Oh, please don’t trouble yourself–”

“Hush, it is no trouble at all.” She walked over to you and grabbed your shoulders, her eyes sparkling as she regarded you. “With my Louis gone, there is no one for me to look after. I daresay I have missed it. Besides,” she placed a soft palm on your cheek. “Your family has shown me true kindness in the years I have known you.”

You smiled a tear-filled smile at her.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Think nothing of it,” she patted your cheek. “It seems your family has a habit of adopting strays.”

With a wink, Olga flitted away to the wooden door that led to the cellar, leaving you and Pero standing awkwardly in her kitchen.

“So,” you began before an awkward silence could settle. “What brings you here?”

“A delivery,” he huffed. “A new lock for her door.”

“I didn’t know Colm has you running deliveries now,” you picked at a fingernail. “I thought the whole point of being an apprentice was to learn.”

Pero rolled his eyes at you, annoyance clouding his features. He leveled you with a glare.

“I know my way around a forge better than that man,” he hissed at you.

You smirked. You always knew how to set him off—how to wound his pride just enough that he would lash out.

“I have been an apprentice since I could walk. I have nothing to learn. It is only an easy way to earn coin.”

“Your father was a blacksmith, then?”

Pero’s eyes narrowed at you before he sighed, seemingly tired of your antics.

“Yes,” he said. “He taught me his trade before I took up my sword.”

“Hm,” you said. “I always wished I would’ve learned the trade. But no, it was too unladylike for me. My mother forbade it.”

Pero snorted at that. You bristled again and shot him a venomous look.

“What? You think it silly for a girl to want to learn something other than sewing or weaving?”

“I think it silly that people in your kingdom think that is all a girl is good for,” he countered. “A waste. My father made sure my sisters knew a trade before he died.”

You blinked.

His response surprised you. A sentiment like his was rare, especially in a place like here. But more than that, it was the first time he’d said something remotely kind to you. In your mind, he was a brute, with no compassion or regard for others.

“You have sisters?” You asked, your curiosity piqued. It wasn’t often you could squeeze information out of him; you wanted to see how much you could get before his mood turned sour again.

“So many questions,” he shook his head.

“Forgive me for trying to make conversation,” you replied dryly.

“It does not matter,” he huffed after a moment. “They are gone now.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Olga’s footsteps nearing the kitchen stopped you.

“Here we go,” she said kindly, handing you a clay jar sealed shut. “This will help. Come back next week for another batch, or come tell me if it gets worse.”

You smiled at her kindness.

“Thank you, Olga.” You said. “Your kindness will not be forgotten.”

“Think nothing of it.”

“Thank you, Doña, for your hospitality. But I’m afraid we must be going if we are to make it back in time for supper.”

“Of course, of course.” Olga waved her hands, ushering you to the front door. “Be safe. I’ve heard tell of bands of criminals in the woods as of late.”

“We will,” you waved as you left her house, basket in one hand and the tonic for your father in the other.

“No preocupes, we will be home before dark,” Tovar said over your shoulder from where he walked in front of you.

He seemed more chipper as he walked down the dirt road, beginning the journey home. You silently thanked the gods for it–you’d need him in a good mood for your plan to work. Even though you knew the deciding factor would come down to William, you still needed Tovar to be there in order for Lisbeth to feel safe enough to journey to Geris. You would be futile in convincing him, you knew; he hated you. But, though he put up a front, you knew that William could convince Pero of anything.

As the two of you walked home, you silently hoped that your plan would work.

- -

“You are out of your mind,” Pero’s eyes were wide as he regarded William, hands on his hips in front of the fire.

It was well past sundown, and your family had gone to bed already. You hid in the loft, peeking down into the large room below where William stood speaking in hushed tones with Pero.

You’d pulled him aside before dinner with your proposal: to sneak off to Geris in the night for the festival and be back before dawn tomorrow.

You knew he was your best chance. You’d begun to recognize the signs of restlessness in him–the twitching of his fingers, the brainstorming with Pero about where they would go after the harvest ended in the autumn. He and you were alike in that way: always longing for adventure. The only difference was that he actually had the freedom to seek what he longed for.

Either way, after some badgering, he’d agreed. You always had that effect on him–he couldn’t ever say no to you, even as a child. Besides, you’d already told Lisbeth to meet you after dark in front of your family’s house, with the promise that the two mercenaries would be there to protect you on the road.

Now, the only one left to convince was Pero.

“Come, brother.” William reasoned. “We have had nothing but work for weeks. Don’t you fancy a drink in a tavern? A change of scenery?”

“There is a tavern here,” Pero ground out, throwing up his hands. “There is no need to traipse through dark woods in the dead of night for an ale. I have spent my day laboring in front of a hot forge and acting as a sworn sword to your child of a cousin. All I wanted was to come home, fill my belly, and sleep. Now you ask this of me.”

You felt a pang of hurt at the belittlement, and a surge of resentment toward the Spaniard. You were not a child; you hadn’t been for quite some time. You’d practically had to be the man of the house in the months before William arrived, with your mother so preoccupied with your father’s help and Petyr drowning in his cups. That was a responsibility you suspected Pero would never have to shoulder.

William’s voice called your attention back to the men by the fire.

Pero had moved, sitting in the wicker chair to the left of the kitchen, sharpening his sword with a whetstone. His eyes looked deadly trained on the blade. William stood with his arms crossed next to him.

“She is a woman grown and you know that,” William said, sighing. “I do not know why you dislike her so. She is a fine young lady.”

“You watch her then.”

“Really, Pero. Why do you let her affect you in such a way? You can face the enemy’s sword without so much as a flinch, but put you in the presence of a maiden and you tremble like a leaf.”

“I do not tremble,” you heard Pero seethe. “She is insolent and foolish, and cannot follow a schedule. I am always late because of her.”

William laughed at that.

“You are bothered too easily, friend.”

Pero grumbled in response, eyes still focused on sharpening his longsword. You heard a rustle from outside the opened window and realized with a start—it must be Lisbeth.

You hurried over to the window and peeked out, catching a glimpse of Lisbeth’s auburn hair in the light of the fire that showed through the downstairs window. She was hidden by a long dark cloak, no doubt belonging to one of her brothers.

A surge of pride shot through you at the sight of her. You knew she was risking a lot–much more than you–by sneaking off into the night like this. She was of a higher station than you, and would soon be wed to some far flung lord, or even a duke. She risked her reputation being tarnished. And yet, here she was, brave as ever.

“If you do not agree, you will force my hand,” you heard William’s voice. You hurried back to the loft to spy yet again, knowing that soon you’d have to go fetch your friend who watched from the downstairs window.

You saw that now, William stood in front of the fire, blocking the line of light Pero needed to sharpen his sword.

“Move, amigo. I’m not in the mood.”

“And I lament that, but you are coming with us.”

“Us?”

“Yes—”

“I should have known she was behind this. No. If my mind wasn’t made up before, it is now. I will not go with her—”

Your laugh interrupted him, and gave away your hiding place. Pero’s eyes, full of ire, snapped to you. You stood up and raced down the stairs, conscious to not make too much noise, lest you be discovered by your family.

“Oh, please Tovar,” you said, approaching where he sat. “It will be fun.”

He looked at you with a dry expression.

“No.”

“But—”

“No.” He gritted his teeth, standing up to come and stand toe-to-toe with you. You flushed at how close he was—you could see every wrinkle, every freckle, every dimension of his scar. It made your throat dry.

“Why?” You asked, voice packed with as much irritation as his.

“I am driving myself mad escorting you to and from town every day, Señora.” He spat the word, making you blink. “I will not spend another moment more than necessary in your presence. Not unless forced.”

“I’ll call in my favor, then.” William drawled amusedly from in front of you.

You started, having forgotten that he was there. You took a step back from his counterpart.

“Pardon?” Pero turned to William.

“My favor,” William smirked and tilted his head. “You owe me.”

“I owe you nothing—”

“Remember Vienna, Pero?” William’s eyebrows rose. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already–”

“I’ve forgotten nothing.” Pero’s glare would scare even the fiercest of knights, but William didn’t even look phased by it.

“Then it’s settled,” William clapped his hands together. “We will leave immediately. We’re losing moonlight already.”

“Lisbeth’s in the garden,” you piped up, already pulling your satchel over your shoulder.

Pero looked like a deer caught in the headlights. William moved to follow you, picking up his sword from where it was leaned against the brick of the fireplace.

“Lisbeth’s in the garden,” he repeated after you, smiling at his companion, who glared into the side of his head. You giggled.

“Make haste, Pero,” you called over your shoulder. “Or we’ll miss the festivities.”

Wordlessly, he sheathed his sword and stood, glaring at you. The glare didn’t scare you though. You knew it was one of annoyance—one you often drew from Pero.

He grumbled to himself before shouldering his sword and following you out the door.

- -

William had convinced Pero that the horses could handle two riders, with the distance being so small between your village and Geris. Besides, the two mares had gotten little to no excitement since the two mercenaries made their way into your small village. William reasoned it would do them well to stretch their legs.

So, you were two to a horse each. And since Pero intimidated Lisbeth, you were stuck with him while Lisbeth rode comfortably with your cousin. The two made small-talk as you trotted through the kingsroad by moonlight. You gazed over at their shadowy figures as they talked, Lisbeth sidled up to William comfortably in the saddle behind him. You smirked. She had always thought he was handsome, ever since you were children. She was quite at her leisure. In contrast to you, who was trying to sit as far away from the grumpy man steering the horse in front of you.

You jostled as the horse trotted over a bump in the road, yelping and grabbing roughly onto Pero’s waist.

“Alright there?” William called from a few steps away. You nodded a yes.

“Hold on,” Pero grumbled. “You’ll break your neck, and your mother will have mine.”

You had no quick-witted response to that. If there was anything in this world that could cause an experienced mercenary to tremble in fear, it was your mother. So, you simply tightened your grip around his waist, locking your hands together. He stiffened as you did.

You hated how comfortable his broad back felt pressed into your front, how his scent overtook you. He smelled of fire, the forge, sandalwood, and leather. It was a far-cry from the rank stench that followed him and William when they arrived.

Lisbeth laughed from her place on the road beside you while William regaled her of stories from his travels. You frowned at the grumpy man in front of you, silent save for the way he mumbled under his breath to the horse in his mother tongue.

“Does your horse have a name?” You asked.

“Hmm?” He grunted, turning his head a bit to face you.

“The mare. What is her name?”

“Horse,” he replied shortly.

“Horse?” You asked incredulously. “Her name is horse?”

“She has never needed a name,” he said.

“All animals need names,” you sighed. “All of mine do.”

“Hm,” he hummed, not unkindly. “I suppose I wouldn’t know what to name her even if I desired to.”

You paused and thought for a moment. This was perhaps the most civil conversation you had ever had, and it was about a horse. Still, you were loath to see it end.

“She is quite fond of the clovers that grow by the barn. I often see her grazing there. What about clover?”

“Clover,” he repeats, turning the words over in his mouth. He hums. “It is better than Horse, I suppose.”

After that, the rest of the ride is filled with comfortable silence save for the sound of the hum of conversation from the couple on horseback beside you. Despite yourself, you smile. Perhaps you and the Spaniard could find middle ground after all.

The festival was like something from a fairy story. And as you stood there, even Lisbeth, who had grown up surrounded by nobles and visits to court was in wonder at the gaiety of it all.

As soon as your group had approached the city gates, you could hear the music—upbeat and lilting, with clapping and voices singing accompanying it. Your heart had leapt at the sound.

Dancing. There was little in life you enjoyed more than letting the music take you and spinning away.

As you took in the city, you didn’t know where to look. There was light everywhere: torches and lamps making the streets seem like they were glowing. You could hear strange languages on the tongues of passersby as you walked, making sure to keep close to your group. The smell of the sea breeze lingered in the air, telling you you were close to the sea. You smiled at it. You’d never seen the ocean, and though you knew you wouldn’t tonight, the smell of it awakened something in you. Above the thatched roofs above your head, you could make out the shadowy figures of the tops of sails—boats, resting in the harbor.

You and Lisbeth followed William and Pero to a stable near the heart of the city, where William payed to have the two mares quartered for the few hours that you planned to be there.

When you reached what must’ve been the town square, Lisbeth gripped your arm tightly, face beaming as she took in the grandeur of it all.

There were countless stalls set up around the perimeter of the cobbled town-center, tents and poorly-built shacks selling all manner of trinkets and gifts. There were food-stalls, jewelry, flowers, tapestries—too much for you to fully take in. In front of one of the taverns that bordered the town center, there was a group of people, sitting in rickety wooden chairs and stools, playing music. There was an old man with a mandolin, hair graying and beard long, a young woman with a lute, a lumbering man sitting behind them playing a violin with startling precision.

In the center of the square, countless couples danced in tune with each other. It was a popular dance in your part of the world—an upbeat ballad about a hare and a tortoise, one you’d been dancing at harvest and midsummer festivals since you were a child.

You smiled so wide your cheeks hurt.

“Look!” Lisbeth cried, turning to you, grip still on your arm. “Do you remember when were ten and you had to dance with—”

“Eldon!” You winced, remembering the handsy youth only a few years older than you that you’d been forced to dance with by your mother. There had been a time that she was hopeful for a match between the two of you, but he’d ended up marrying a girl in a neighboring village and moving there to take over her father’s house. You were glad of it; he’d been an unpleasant boy.

“The candle-maker’s son?” William smirked from the other side of Lisbeth.

“The very same,” you groaned.

“Oh, he was the most odious boy,” Lisbeth added.

“Really?” William asked. “I remember him being quite shy, if a bit ill-,mannered.”

“Ill-mannered doesn’t even begin to describe him,” you countered, remembering his wandering hands and leering gaze. “I don’t know if I can remember someone else whose face was so vile.”

“Are we remembering the same boy?” William asked. Beside him, Pero’s eyes scanned the crowd, looking bored with the conversation. “I remember him differently.”

“Because he wanted to be you, cousin,” you smiled at him. “He was positively disgusting.”

“He had a scar that cut across his forehead,” Lisbeth added. “From a riding accident.”

At that, Pero stiffened and his jaw clenched, his eyes finding you as William and Lisbeth continued talking.

“Yes, that’s the boy,” William nodded. “Was he truly so bad?”

You opened your mouth to respond before being interrupted.

“Ah yes,” Pero snapped, surprising you. The sharpness of this tone was something you were unused to. His lip curled as he addressed you. “Because a scar is truly what makes a man’s character. How unfortunate for you that you had to look upon the face of someone so…what did you say, Senora? Disgusting.”

He spit the word at you like it was poison. You gawked at his tone, at the malice in his voice, before feeling your own ire bubble in your gut. William and Lisbeth stood perplexed between you.

“He was disgusting,” you countered, taking a step toward Pero. “Because of his untoward behavior and hands that had a habit of wandering up ladies’ skirts. The scar had nothing to do with it. Though how good it is to finally know your opinion of me, Tovar.”

He just opened his mouth, gaping like a fish, before you grabbed Lisbeth’s hand and began to walk toward the crowd.

A new, more slow, group number had begun to play, and you and Lisbeth fell in line with the masses enjoying the festival. From behind you, you could faintly hear the sound of William scolding his companion.

“I see what you mean,” Lisbeth said to you after a moment.

You looked at her in confusion, before turning into the next step of the dance.

“He is unpleasant,” she elaborated. “And rude. No matter how handsome he is. I am sorry for ever thinking otherwise.”

You sighed and linked your arm with hers, as the dance called for.

“It’s alright,” you smiled. “You couldn’t have known.”

She returned your smile and squeezed your arm.

“I wonder why he is so…”

“So…uncaring? Aloof? Unkind?”

“...melancholy.” She finished, and you started.

Of all the words you would use to describe Pero Tovar, melancholy was not one of them.

“What?” She asked, noticing your confused look. “You cannot deny he has a sad air about him. Besides, to think someone so cruel as to call a young boy disgusting because of his scar? To think that you could be that cruel? He must have a sad outlook on life indeed.”

You hummed, reflecting on her words.

Lisbeth was right—as she so often was. It hadn’t been a point of view you considered before. Perhaps the reason why Pero’s countenance was so impatient and dreary was because of something else, something out of your control. As soldiers, he and William had seen the worst of mankind. You remembered what he’d said to you earlier that day, about his sisters. It doesn’t matter, they’re all gone. Perhaps there was a reason he didn’t wish to discuss his travels.

You rid all thoughts of the Spaniard from your mind as you finished the dance; you didn’t want your one night of freedom ruined.

As you and Lisbeth exited the center of the town square, you spotted Pero, sulking and leaning up against a wooden beam that supported the awning to a tavern. You suppressed a smirk at the glowering look on his face. William must have scolded him for speaking to you how he did.

Good, you thought.

“Pero,” Lisbeth called cheerily once you got close enough. “Where has William got to?”

Pero’s eyes flickered to you for a moment, clouded with something you didn’t understand. He opened his mouth to say something, deep, dark eyes still trained on you, when William’s booming voice interrupted you.

“Cousin!” He called jovially, four frothing metal cups in his hands. They were overflowing with an amber-colored liquid.

“That had better not be beer,” you wrinkled your nose, always having hated the grainy-tasting drink.

“Mead, cousin. Come! Let us make merry while we can,” William looked as if he’d had a drink himself already. “I would beg of you both one dance before the night is through. I cannot bring the most beautiful women in the land to a festival and not demand a dance.”

You rolled your eyes fondly at your cousin’s silver tongue. Beside you, Lisbeth blushed behind her cup. You took your own drink, the metal cool beneath your fingers, and relished in the sweet, honey-flavor of the fermented drink. Mead was a delicacy to you. Your family was rarely rich enough to afford more than ale, and you had long been wary of it, not wanting to fall prey to the cup like your brother. Tonight, though, you drank eagerly. Behind his own cup, Pero’s eyes remained trained on you, full of an emotion you couldn't place.

- -

After her dance with William, Lisbeth pulled you aside.

Her pale cheeks were rosy with exertion and with drink, her breath sweet and smelling of mead. You smiled at her, glad to see your often high-strung best friend relaxed for once.

She stepped on an uneven stone and lost her footing, stumbling into you with a giggle.

“Oh!” She exclaimed through a laugh, leaning into you. “If my mother could only see me now. She would be aghast.”

You giggled with her, pushing a stray auburn hair away from her eyes.

“Her high-born lady, absolutely ruined,” you teased.

“And dancing with a mercenary, can you imagine?”

“What ever shall we do with you?”

Lisbeth just laughed. It was a deep laugh, coming from her belly. One you didn’t hear often. Once she caught her breath, Lisbeth sighed, resting her head on your shoulder. The two of you watched as the people danced in the square, content.

“Thank you,” she mumbled after a moment. “I have had a wonderful time. I am glad to have had at least one night like this before—”

Lisbeth stopped herself, clamping her lips shut. You paused.

“Before what?” You asked.

Lisbeth pulled away from you, wringing her hands together in front of her, gaze trained on the cobblestones below your feet.

“Before what, Lisbeth?” You asked again.

When she looked up at you, her eyes were teary. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth before she spoke.

“I am to be wed,” she said, voice warbling. “Before midsummer. My father just told me this morning.”

“What?” you asked, all breath leaving your chest.

“I wanted to tell you right away,” she said, a tear streaming down her face now. “But when I tried, I just couldn’t. Then, I wanted to enjoy tonight. I thought if I’m to move away and become a wife, I’ll at least have tonight.”

You blinked, processing what exactly this meant.

Of course, she’s to be married, you thought. It was strange enough that she wasn’t betrothed at the age of ten and nine. Her father had finally made his decision. She was a lady of high station, the daughter of a Lord—this was her duty. One she was excited for, even. She had always wanted to be the mistress of her own house. You should be happy for her.

So why did you feel so sad?

“Who,” you croaked, before clearing your throat. “Who is he?”

Lisbeth smiled weakly.

“A Lord,” she said, laughing a little. “He lives a two-days ride to the North. My father says he is kind.”

“Have you met him?” You asked.

“Once,” she smiled. “But I was little more than a girl, and I barely remember.”

“Will you have time to…be acquainted before…”

Before the wedding. The words hang in the air between you.

“Yes,” she nodded. “He will come visit in a fortnight.”

You nodded dumbly, realizing the reality that faced you: your best friend would be leaving you to begin her life, and you would be left behind. The thought brought tears to your eyes.

“And he’s not…old, is he?”

It had long been one of Lisbeth’s fears that her father would wed her to a man too many years her senior—an old, country lord who she could never grow to love. If she was to be sold off like a broodmare to a man old enough to be her grandsire, you didn’t think you could stand it.

“No,” she smiled shakily. “He is young—only nine years my senior.”

You breathed a sigh of relief at that. Little mercies. You took a deep breath and squared your shoulders, willing the moisture to leave your eyes. You would not cry in front of her.

“And, are you happy with the arrangement?”

Lisbeth considered it a moment.

“I am… relieved he is not old. It is too soon to tell without actually meeting him, but I trust my father’s judgment. I am his only daughter. I do not believe he would part with me for someone unworthy.”

You smiled at your best friend–your ever constant, loyal companion. Her auburn hair shone around her head in the yellow light of the evening. Her eyes shone with hope. She was ready for this, you knew it. You ignored the pang of melancholy in your stomach and squeezed her arms. For now, you would be happy for her. You would save your tears for later.

“No, I daresay he wouldn’t.”

You pulled her into a hug. She sighed against you.

“You shall be at my wedding,” she declared once she pulled back. “I will refuse to be wed without you.”

You laughed at her.

“Me, surrounded by lords and ladies,” you snorted at the idea.

“Hush,” she smacked your arm. “We are not so different from you lot. Besides, I much prefer your company to theirs any day.”

You smiled at her, linking your arm with hers as you ventured into the square to find your companions.

“Come, let us enjoy the rest of the night,” you said.

“Let us,” she replied jovially.

As the two of you continued on, you ignored the pit in your stomach at the idea of Lisbeth’s impending nuptials.

- -

Your group departed with hours left until sunrise—plenty of time to return to your beds without your families noticing.

The hopeless feeling that struck you at the revelation of Lisbeth’s engagement stuck with you, though, even after you bridled your horses and began your trek home.

Beside you, William hummed a tune while Lisbeth dozed off behind him. Your arms were loosely wrapped around Pero’s waist as he rode silently. The two of you still hadn’t exchanged a word since the tense encounter in Geris’s town square. Still, you hadn’t been on the receiving end of any of his glares for the rest of the evening.

You pondered what your life would look like after Lisbeth left. You couldn’t help it. For as long as you could remember, it was you and her. Your mother has acted as midwife in Lisbeth’s birth, and ever since, her mother had been a loyal patron of your mother’s herbal remedies. You and her had been friends since infancy. And now, she was leaving. Entering and finding her place in the wide, expansive world. And you were going to be stuck where you’d always been: caring after your ailing father and serving as a punching bag for your drunken brother.

The thought of Lisbeth’s absence from your life made your eyes fill with tears, and before you knew it, they were streaming down your cheeks.

You turned your head away from William, knowing if he saw you cry, he’d make a fuss. You took a few shaky breaths, trying to calm yourself, but failed. Before you knew it, you were shaking with tears against Pero’s back.

You knew he could feel your sobs, but couldn’t find it in you to care. He was going to judge you no matter what you did—he’d made that much clear tonight. You might as well let yourself weep.

After a moment, though, he surprised you. You heard Pero breathe your name, so quietly you scarcely heard it.

You sniffled, trying to cover the sounds of your tears. You mumbled an apology, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. But instead of pestering or making fun of you, Pero only hummed in acknowledgement, before wrapping a rough palm around your own and squeezing.

His hand remained wrapped in yours the rest of the way home, a silent show of support. It baffled you, but you didn’t have time to even begin to question it. Instead, you just let yourself cry, leaning against the Spaniard for support. The rest could wait til the morning.

#pedro pascal #pero tovar #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar x female reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar imagine #pero tovar x reader #pero x reader #pero tovar fic #the great wall fanfic #the great wall fanfiction #pero tovar x y/n

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isimpfortoomanypeople · 2 years

Text

Winter blues- Eddie Munson x ex Gn reader

Part 1

You thought that you found the perfect person, the one person who would love you no matter what. But why did he turn around and break up with you out of the blue? Returning back from winter break was always going to be hard but you didn’t expect for it to be this hard.

Warnings: smoking, depression, negative self talk (the reader calls themselves pathetic in this) anxiety, alcohol, car crash, mentions of injury, angst, mentions of cheating, mentions of drugs and Eddie being a dick but not as much as the first part. Angst with a happy ending and the reader ends up dating someone at the end, I think you can predict who

A/N: thanks for all the love and for helping me write the ending of the this fanfic, I hope that you all like it. You all didn’t want Eddie back and I mean fair enough he was an asshole. Also Chrissy isn’t the villain in this, mostly because I met the actress and she called me cute and pretty so I stan Chrissy lol, also I’m 5’4 and she was smaller than me so that was my reference for her being short in his. I’m glad that you like the songs to listen to so I recommend ‘if you can’t hang’ by Sleeping with Sirens for all of it, ‘Lent’ by autoheart and ‘tequila wine’ by oliva O’Brien till the 7th break. Then ‘a little of your time’ by mae muller, ‘cinnamon girl’ by Lana del ray and ‘line without a hook’ by Ricky Montgomery till the end. I non stop wrote this over the weekend, I love the angst in this and the ending too. I’m from the U.K. sorry if some parts sound overly British, apologises for all spelling and grammatical mistakes as I’m super dyslexic, enjoy

“God I hate him” you sighed resting your head on Gareth’s shoulder as he passed the cigarette that was pressed to his lips to yours.

“You and me both, remind me again why I can’t slash the tyres in his van?”

Taking a long drag, letting out a smile allowing your body to further melt away on to his shoulder.

“As much as I’d love that, it’s technically vandalism and the last thing I need right now is you going to jail” you gently laughed.

It was moments like these that you were extremely thankful, like someone out there was looking out for you enough to land you someone like Gareth in your life. You couldn’t of asked for a better friend, you knew that he had your back no matter what. At this point you were genuinely convinced that he’d help you hide a body, but then again with the whole Eddie situation that may become a reality. Maybe Eddie finally did something right? as he brought you two together, you truly were as thick as thieves.

Gareth was the first person you called as soon as you felt like you weren’t being eaten alive by the darkness of your sorrows. When you recovered the very little strength you could muster after having your heart that wasn’t only just trampled on but tore into so many pieces you doubt you could ever put them back together again. You shakily dialled the second number you knew off by heart.

It didn’t take much for Gareth to run as fast as he could to your house. All you needed to do was croak the words “Eddie was here”, and that was all it took for him to throw down his drumsticks and told his younger sister that he had an emergency he needed to attend to. And Gareth stuck to your side the moment he arrived, offering you a shoulder to continue your crying on and to once again help to pick up the remains of your heart off the wooden floor.

Your bedroom filtered into a comfortable silence with the voice of Joan Jett softly filling in the spaces that the silence left open. The room glowed in the golden hues of the early sunset for the sun graced you with some comfort that this wretched day is soon drawing to an end.

“Are you going to the party this Saturday?”

You snorted at even the mere suggestion that you could function enough to attend such a thing, the thought of painting on a fake plastic smile and pretending that you weren’t seconds away from fading away into the abyss of depression, you could barely do the basics of human survival such as eating and sleeping never mind a party.

“You’re kidding right?”

“Come on Y/N, do you really want to spend your last year in high school saying that you allowed some prick who couldn’t even pass senior year two times to stop you from being a normal teen? Or do you want to say that you went to the wildest parties before you fuck off to some well respected college? And you’ll think ‘I remember that Gareth dude, he was alright too bad I forgot about his stupid ass” Gareth joked, tickling your sides with his fingers forcing you into a fit of laughter, this was the first time you smiled in two weeks. You curled to your side, swatting away his arms to protect yourself from his attack, leaving you scarlet red and out of breath with laughter

“As if I could forget about you” you breathlessly spoke between gasps as you started to get your breath back. “You’re stuck with me forever you asshole”

He smiled at you, drawing his hands away from your sides and held them up in surrender. Just thankful that he made you smile, for he believed that you deserve nothing more than to be happy. “I wouldn’t want it any other way, so is it a yes?”

“Only if you’ll stop attacking me!”

“Of course”

—————————————————————————

You stared at yourself in the mirror, touching at your face drawing back the fleshy part of your cheeks showing the purple bags that had doubled in size, you pressed your lips together trying not to fall back into a million pieces. Trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t a mistake you getting ready tonight.

Staring back at this person you barely recognise anymore, their eyes don’t even look the same anymore, only embers remains telling you that the resident left a long time ago leaving a lifeless hollow in its place. Your eyes became glassy you wanted to scream at yourself for allowing you to leave your bed, as depression convinced you that all you needed to do was crawl into your blanket covered coffin and lie there till it would all be over, as that’s what you deserved! As why would Eddie leave you!

This was definitely a mistake!

Your thoughts was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Are you ready..” Gareth’s words trailed away as he saw you in a state of utter distress. Yes he has seen you at your worse but you looked so lifeless it’s scary

“I’m going to sit this one out Gare” you mumbled barely looking him in the eyes, the faster you could close the door, the faster you could allow yourself to be consumed by the deathly grip depression had on you.

The reality that Eddie has been cheating on you truly hit you like a truck the moment Gareth closed the door. You felt so alone drowning in your tears, feeling so inadequate for Chrissy was so perfect, everything you were not. Maybe Eddie didn’t want to be seen with someone so pathetic as you?

You couldn’t shake this vice like grip depression had on you, it was the reason you hid away. Kept it away from Gareth for you already burdened him once he didn’t deserve it again.

“No you’re fucking not!” He spoke with so much force it shocked you both into silence by his sudden outburst. He let out a sigh and took a second to compose himself, to calm himself down before he spoke again. “ I love you Y/N you’re my best friend, but I can’t stand to see you destroy yourself over someone who isn’t worth shit. I know it hurts but he isn’t worth this, I want one night to become a reckless drunken mess with my best friend, so please come if not for yourself do it for me?” He pleaded his eyes looking into yours becoming more and more glassy as each second went by, he wanted you to see how much your pain was hurting him too.

—————————————————————————

You threw back your third shot while chasing it back down with god knows what was in that punch bowl, it smelt like straight ethanol but at this point you welcomed the burning sensation it left down your throat as it brings the promise of forgetting.

You slumped against the wall gulping back the lethal punch as if it was water, you felt the small buzz of intoxication creeping into your brain like a welcome friend.

Gareth was taken away from you by Jeff, he looked at you as to say ‘I can stay here if you need’, but you laughed saying that he needs to enjoy the last remainder of his high school parties, even though especially now that you wish that he had stayed.

Sighing as you felt like you could actually relax for the first time in two weeks, as your mind melted away into a blur, you finally felt the break up slipping away from your mind, bringing out the smile that you thought you had lost

But like all good things that happen to you it was bound to come to an end

Fuck my life!

Who should walk in? No other than the most sickening couple of Hawkins high.

Eddie walked in with his fingers laced through Chrissy’s, she placed her perfectly glossed lips upon his before she was whisked away by a couple of her cheerleading friends.

You watched as Eddie put his hands in the back of his Jean pockets, his eyes looking around the room, his posture slumped looking far from his usual environment.

Upon his eyes searching the room to find a familiar face he could find, so he wouldn’t have to spend the night alone waiting till his girlfriend became too intoxicated so he had to drive her home. His eyes found yours, you rapidly moved your eyes away from his for it felt like your eyes were on fire, blinking rapidly to douse the flames he caused

Eddie felt a pang of guilt gnawing at his consciousness upon seeing you, actually seeing you, not acting upon cowardice by refusing to look at you like he did during your last encounter. His heart broke as the consequences of his own actions finally hit him and it hit him hard. Fuck did he really do this to you?

You looked gaunt, you looked sickly pale almost unrecognisable from the person he use to love

You felt your anxiety making your heart rate increase in quick successions till it was palpitating. Yep you definitely needed to drown the painful memories of Eddie into too much booze till they became hazy

You down your 2nd drink like it was water cringing at the acrid aftertaste it had, it somehow gotten stronger since your last drink. Pouring yourself another you heard an all too familiar drunken laugh

“Y/N, oh my god!, how are you?” Chrissy smiled as she ran up and hugged you with so much force it caused the drink you were ladling to spill.

“Hey Chris” you forced out with a fake smile, so fake that it took every muscle in your body to hold

“You didn’t answer my question silly” she slightly slurred bopping you on the nose, she fell into a fit of giggles which made you question how much she had to drink, yet again if you were her height it wouldn’t take you a lot to get drunk either.

God it was getting hard to swallow down this anger you were feeling, you knew it wasn’t Chrissy’s fault but if you were faced with the person your ex chose over you, there definitely would be some resentment towards them

“It’s going good, how is your boyfriend?” You didn’t mean for the words that fell off your tongue to be so bitter, but the buzz of alcohol blurred the filter that lay between your brain and your mouth

“It’s going good with me and Eddie?” She puzzled over your sudden standoffish behaviour, yes you rarely spoke but you never had anything against each other either, so why were you being so mean?

The third drink started to slur your thoughts so that very limited filter you had moments before disappeared entirely

“How long have you been dating?”

“3 weeks, why?”

“Well because for the first week of your relationship, I was still dating him!” You spat out chugging back the rest of what was in your solo cup, looking up you saw Chrissy looking back at you with wide eyes and her lips trembling

“What?”

“Eddie cheated on me with you when he got bored with me, so I’d start running now chris if I was you before you waste 6 months on him like I did” tears started to brew at your eyes during your anger fuelled outburst, you couldn’t help but feel some guilt over the words you uttered. For this anger was meant for Eddie not for the strawberry blonde cheerleader in front of you, she did nothing wrong except love the same boy you once did

“Y/N, I’m so sorry” she cried, wiping away the tears that smudged her perfectly winged eyeliner, “I promise you I wouldn’t of dated him if I knew, he told me that you broke up. God I’m such a bitch!”

“Chris-“

But it was too late, she ran off out of the kitchen holding her half full cup of punch , leaving you to realise what you’ve just done.

You and your stupid mouth!

You ran out towards the living room following the teary eyed cheerleader in sight

Shit! Shit! Chrissy please don’t do anything stupid!

“What the fuck!” You heard Eddie shout.

You turned and saw his shirt covered in chrissy’s remaining punch, his eyes furrowed in shock over what just happened

“That’s for telling me you were single when you weren’t, fuck you I thought you weren’t like the rest” she shrieked capturing all the attention from the room, someone even turned down the stereo to direct everyone’s attention to drama about to unfold.

No one could predict what was about to happen next, as her perfectly manicured hand slammed its way across Eddie’s cheek leaving an angry red mark in its place

“We are over!” And with that she stormed away with her crew not following too far behind

You stood in complete shock. 100% Eddie deserved it, in fact you were jealous you didn’t do it first. But also because you didn’t think she could pack such a punch

Your eyes met Gareth who couldn’t hold back his laughter, now you definitely was glad that you were able to be convinced in to coming tonight

—————————————————————————

“I can’t believe she would slap him like that” Gareth howled out clutching his stomach as he recalled last nights events

“I’m sad it wasn’t me who did it” you chuckled wiping away the tear that fell from laughing so hard

“Never say never, I’d pay good money for you to beat the ever living shit out of him”

“At that point Gare I think it might be called a snuff film as there’s no way he’d make it out alive”

You both laughed till your abdomens hurt, you were both on the way back from family video, deciding that watching the exorcist and eating pizza was the only way to soothe your remaining hangovers

“That it might be- HOLY SHIT Y/N-“

The rest of Gareth’s sentence turned into fuzz like the static you got when you were trying to get your tv to connect to a station.

Everything happened in slow motion, you clutched at the wheel trying to stop your car that was rapidly skidding out of control on the black ice you couldn’t see.

The ice throttled you at full speed towards the trees not too far ahead

Your vision started to fade in and out of consciousness, your sight started to fade. You could see the faint outlines of a tree inches away from your face, broken glass from your windscreen glistening with blood in the harsh winters sun, before your world slowly faded to black

—————————————————————————

Gareth sat in the uncomfortable plastic chairs in the hospital waiting room, adding more to the discomfort he felt after being in a car crash. He bit his nails, trying to numb the anxiety that made him feel like he was going to pass out.

No matter how many nurses told him to go home and they’ll call him once they had any more news. But he couldn’t leave especially when his best friend could be dying, the guilt was eating him alive, like his body was caving in. He escaped with a few cuts from the windshield spraying glass shards over his face and a few broken ribs which the doctor told him would heal, while you? He doesn’t know, wishing that it was him in your position as at least then he’d know that you would be alright

He had nothing to distract him, only his own thoughts to plague him for surviving, for not needing the surgery you had to undertake. He hated feeling so useless, there was nothing he could do to reverse what had happened. God he hated this

Oh you got to be fucking kidding right now!

“I’m here to see Y/N L/N” by the reception stood a very worried looking Eddie, his eyes red and glassy. The way his chest moved in quick successions showed that he dropped everything and ran straight here.

The receptionist pointed Eddie in the direction of where Gareth was sat . Eddie gulped as he approached the seats for Gareth was glaring daggers into his skin, piercing his flesh for hurting you and having the audacity to show his face.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Did you really think that when you phoned Jeff about not making it to rehearsal, that he wouldn’t tell me?”

Eddie sat a few seats away from Gareth and ran his fingers through his hair, he looked distraught as more tears flooded down his face.

“How are they?” He asked looking at Gareth in the eyes, his voice shaking with fear. “Look I know that you hate me, but I still love them-“

“That’s bullshit” Gareth scoffed, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes, he almost wanted to start applauding Eddie for he was putting on quite the show. The tears was truly convincing, Eddie should really consider acting

“No its not-“

“You broke up with them with a pitiful excuse for them to then find out that you’ve been cheating on them, wow Eddie you’re truly living up to the Munson name” Gareth spat, yes it was a low blow to bring up Eddie’s bastard of a farther but right now Gareth was seeing red

“Fuck you!” Eddie growled his nostrils started to flare. Gareth better reign it in otherwise Eddie would have no control over what he may do next

“Why do you care about them now? where were you when they actually needed you? Probably putting your tongue down the throat of Chrissy Cunningham, you’re only showing up now because you want to be seen as this good person. But no Eddie, I know you, you’re full of shit, you’re fucking pathetic”

“Well considering you’re picking out the flaws in everyone, what about you mr perfect? You stay in the background till you disappear, you’re that uninteresting that people couldn’t give less of a shit about you. You had no life so you had to copy my own, you’re a damn carbon copy of myself it’s laughable. Maybe that’s why your dad left you because he was so ashamed of having a low life for a son-“

Eddie’s words was cut short by Gareth’s fist colliding with his nose, Eddie froze momentarily in shock that he didn’t hear the sickening crack, only when he felt blood pouring into his mouth did he register that Gareth had punched him.

Gareth stood glaring at Eddie, his fist still out stretch, his knuckles starting to turn red. Pressing his lips into a thin line as his brain was a fury of blazing flames, he wanted nothing more than in this moment than to make Eddie leave here in a hearse.

Eddie slowly sat back down, his eyes still wide clutching at his blooded nose, what the fuck just happened?

“I’m sorry” he mumbled “that was too far”

Gareth didn’t respond, he turned his back to him. Slowly counting to ten to cool himself down before he did something he’d regret, he thought of you and that you need him here not in the back of a police cell

The atmosphere was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Both boys froze in utter shock over the events that happened moments prior

“But I did mean what I said earlier” he sighed, his voice breaking with sorrow, he couldn’t lose you not yet. “I still love them, fuck i really love them. I stupidly threw what we had away and I’m paying for that every single day, me and Chris both had the same shared trauma that no one else could understand so we both found comfort in each other, so I stupidly kissed her. Fuck! I hate myself”

Gareth slowly turned around to face him, his facial muscles dropping the tension it was holding earlier. He swallowed thickly

“You realise that is far from an excuse right?”

“Yes I do, I don’t deserve them, I know I don’t, but I could lose them and I can’t live if that happened” Eddie’s voice cracked, the dam that held the full weight of his despair came flooding through, resulting in him curled up in a pool of tears.

Gareth sat next to him, he knew he shouldn’t take pity on him but when you were friends with someone for years, it was hard to let them go that easily.

“We were driving and their car skidded on ice and we were hurled towards these trees, I remember them trying to stop the car but it was too late. Next thing I knew I woke up in a hospital bed and being told that they’re in surgery. I’m sure that they’re going to be fine, you know Y/N they’re as tough as nails” Gareth gently chuckled defusing the tense atmosphere that felt like it was suffocating them both.

“I really fucked it up with them haven’t I?”

“To be honest with you, yes you have”

“I’m sorry Gare I wish this could of all been different, I wish that I hadn’t screwed up, but that’s all I’ve ever done. It’s what I do best, I was a coward and like always I ran away” Eddie croaked wiping away the stray tears on his freckled cheeks.

“Eddie, I don’t know why you’re telling me this, it’s Y/N they’re the one you should be saying this shit to” Gareth took a second to breathe before the atmosphere became heated again, he ran his fingers through his hair trying his hardest not to yell at the brunette boy beside him. “Look I’ll call you if I hear any news, but you’re quite possibly the last person they want to see right now, and if you mean what you said to me right now you’d go home and speak to them when they’re better”

—————————————————————————

You cringed as you adjusted yourself to lay more comfortably on the hospital bed. You couldn’t describe the excruciating pain that flooded over your body, imagine a knife stabbing and twisting all over your body again and again, nothing relieved the agony you were feeling, the cocktail of pain relief you received did jack shit. You couldn’t breathe without your muscles spasming in pain.

The doctors informed you that you were involved in a car crash that left you with a broken leg, several broken ribs and a concussion that you will be kept in over night for them to keep monitoring the severity of it.

This was the last thing you needed right now, well at least the physical pain would help to distract you from the emotional pain

“Hey” you turned to see a very bruised looking Gareth holding one of those crappy bears you could buy at a card shop, that held a heart saying ‘get well soon’ on it.

You smiled at him, just glad you know that he is okay, laughing at the gift he got you. But the laughter further aggravated the stabbing sensation in your ribs, so the smile was soon replaced with a frown.

“You asshole, don’t make me laugh it hurts” your voice raspy from the pain and only just waking up 30 minutes prior.

“Excuse me for bringing my friend some joy over the shit we just went through” he quipped sitting down on the chair next to you, placing the bear on the bedside table. You jokingly rolled your eyes at his comment. “How are you?”

You gave him another glare, what is it with this boy and stupidly obvious questions?

“I know, stupid question”

“Well apart from being in the worst pain imaginable I’m living so I suppose it could be worse

“Even going through near death, they still don’t miss the chance to attack me with their words” he chuckled, he looked at you taking in every part of you, he smiled forever thankful that you survived. “I’m just glad that you’re okay”

“You too Gare, when I woke up I was so scared that something really bad had happened to you. After everything I’ve been through I couldn’t loose you too, I just can’t” your eyes started to well up at even the thought of losing him

“Hey” he cooed wiping away the tear that fell with his thumb, “I’m not going anywhere you’re stuck with me for life”

“What happened to your hand?” You asked with concern upon seeing the grazed flesh on his still red knuckles.

“I punched Eddie”

“What!” You exclaimed looking at Gareth with narrowed eyes, checking if you heard him right

“He came here earlier, I phoned Jeff saying that I wouldn’t make it to band practice tomorrow and he must of told Eddie. I told him to fuck off and that he wasn’t wanted here, he brought up shit about me and my dad so I punched him” he said nonchalantly, like this is something mundane that you would expect to had happen while you were unconscious.

“I’m sorry Gare, but I’m also pissed that I didn’t get to do it first. God Chrissy gets to slap him, you get to punch him, save some of the Eddie abuse to me” you weakly laughed trying not to upset the aching muscles

“Hey no one has killed him yet, you could be the first”

Gareth spent three hours by your side, it should of been two but the nurses took pity on you both, plus the hospital was pretty quiet so having him stay another hour wasn’t hurting anyone. You were pretty sure that they believed you two to be dating but at the sake of having your best friend at your side for another hour, you were more than happy to let them believe whatever they wanted to.

Before he left he told you what Eddie had told him, which left you with the heavy question looming in the air, something for you to over think when you were kept up till the early hours of the morning

What the fuck are you going to say to Eddie?

—————————————————————————-

You were discharged the morning after as all your vitals seemed stable, with no sign of brain damage or memory loss indicating that your concussion was only mild. Leaving the hospital with three different bottles of medication and your right leg tightly wrapped up in bandages.

You spent the next week on bed rest, it felt so tedious. Sure the pain subdued and you could move without feeling like your were being burnt alive, without the sharp pains of your broken ribs pressing into your sides with each breath.

But you felt like you were dying a slow painful death not by any physical pain but the boredom was fucking torture. There’s so many repeats of your favourite tapes you could take before bohemian rhapsody made you want to claw at your ears, the only thing that could distract you and it was hard to admit was homework that Gareth brought you every day. Who would of thought that trigonometry would bring you any form of joy?

You heard a gentle knocking at your doorway, you sat upright smiling at the door in anticipation of Gareth’s arrival, but your sweet mood turned sour very quickly when the person emerged from behind the door.

With a broken leg and doctor’s proscribed bedrest there is no way you can escape him, great!

“Hey” he spoke with nerves making his voice become unsteady, he swallowed thickly and placed a bouquet of red roses beside your bed.

“Hey” you replied coldly staring outside your window, maybe if you pretended that he wasn’t there he’d take the hint and go away?

Eddie looked wounded by your icy reply, it made his stomach drop further. He started to twirl his rings as his anxiety was making him shake, his rehearsed speech he practiced saying to you in his mirror went out of the window leaving a blank space in his mind.

“I’m sorry”

You felt your jaw stiffen, trying not to scream at him simply because you didn’t have the energy to do so, you were having an internal battle. The part of you that still loved him was rising to the surface, telling you that he was saying everything that you wanted to hear but you had to push this part of you down, it made more of your muscles tensed up during this emotional tug of war.

Don’t you dare even look at him right now!

He sighed, his leg bouncing up and down in an attempt to fight back the raging anxiety that flooded through his every nerve.

“I was stupid, I thought that because we went through the same shit that no one else could get, that Chrissy was a better match for me. Which is the worst mistake I made as I lost the best thing that had ever happened to me. I was a fucking coward who hurt the only person I have ever loved, I have spent every day haunted by my regrets, I was jealous of your friendship with Gareth that I yelled at you as I saw someone who was doing all the shit I never did, someone who is caring and loyal and not a lying cheating douche like me. When I found out that you were involved in that car accident my whole world stop because I finally realised that you were my whole world, I know that sounds cheesy as shit but I knew that I couldn’t live without you. I fucked up and I still love you Y/N-“

“Eddie you hurt me, like really fucking hurt me. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat I felt so inadequate compared to her. I mean look at her for Christ sake! Head cheerleader, the golden girl of Hawkins how could I ever compare to that!” Your voice started to break as you choked back your tears that were threatening to spill, “you cheated on me, you through away 6 months without so much as an excuse”

You looked over at Eddie his eyes glistening as he sobbed silently, his cheeks damp with fresh tears.

“I’m really sorry Y/N, I don’t deserve you. I just wanted you to know that I love you and I’ll spend the rest of my days regretting ever letting you go”

“Eddie” you sighed trying your hardest not to cry as he didn’t deserve you wasting another tear on him, you spent weeks morning your relationship and hurting yourself in the process, while he got to live without so much as a single mark. “I do still love you, but I can’t go back to you. I spent weeks crying my heart out while you was with Chrissy, you don’t get to come here now and tell me how much your hurting. I deserve someone who is going to treat me right, who is going to make me a priority and is not going to cheat on me the moment things become hard. I can’t let you in and allow you to hurt me that badly again. There’s a part of me that wishes that this could all be different and we could just drive out to lovers lake like we used to do, but I just can’t do that to myself again. I’m sorry Eddie, but you have to let me go. We could possibly be friends some point in the future but right now I don’t think that we can, well at least not at the moment.

Eddie wiped away his tears, he weakly smiled at you, he was trying his hardest not to beg you till he was red in the face for you to take him back. Because he knows that you deserve someone better than him as much as it pains him to admit

“Look after yourself okay?”

“You too Eddie”

When he closed your door you finally allowed those tears to fall.

—————————————————————————-

“What did you say?”

“I told him that I still loved him, which unfortunately is still true, but I couldn’t go back to him not after how badly he hurt me”

“Are you going to be-“

“I swear to god Gareth Emerson if you ask me if I’m going to be okay I’ll literally punch you so hard in the jaw that you won’t be able to ask me that again” you threatened jokingly throwing a pillow at his face

“Ow! Jesus Christ, I can’t even be a supportive friend these days” he rolled his eyes throwing the pillow back in your direction.

“You know that you don’t have to visit everyday right?”

“Are you sick of me already” he jokingly asked with his hand clutched to his chest dramatically, which caused you to snort at his theatrical response

“I mean don’t you have better things to do than to look after me?”

“You know that I don’t” he quipped making you roll your eyes at the way he can turn a sweet moment into a joke in a matter of seconds.

“I love you Gare”

“Love you too Y/N”

——————————————————————————

You unwrapped the candy bar Gareth had brought you, as before he called, he stopped to buy your favourite snacks. While you were listening to the mix tape he made you after you complained that Queen was giving you a migraine from hearing it on repeat non stop.

You stared at the bear he brought you, laughing silently at the memory from the hospital,

He couldn’t hide his distaste for you naming the bear con short for concussion, which at the time you found hilarious but that was when you were high on the 7 different drugs the hospital gave you, so that was the pitiful excuse for the awful joke made.

The guitar riff of ‘I was made for lovin’ you’ started to kick in, echoing across your walls the voice of Gene Simmons singing ‘I can’t get enough of you darling, can you get enough of me?’ it made you realise something-

Oh fuck! You were in love with Gareth!

No, surely not! Right?

He was your best friend, he was the one right by your side no matter what, he stayed over night the night Eddie broke up with you to make sure were okay, he was the one you could always confine in, he would make you smile till your cheeks ached, and he came over every day to check up on you- shit!

You didn’t know whether to scream, laugh, cry or all of the above. What an overused romantic trope , falling in love with your best friend. You couldn’t be anymore predictable if you tried.

You didn’t know what to do with this emotional revelation, push it down in hopes that the feeling melts away in the pit of your stomach acid? Hoping that you don’t regurgitate the awkward feelings to Gareth then he tells you that he doesn’t feel the same way, then you’ll enter this bottomless pit of depression unable to climb your way out of it, till you have to move state.

The anxiety was muddling your thoughts till they became a string of nonsense, convincing you that the world was going to end for feeling this way. Maybe the best way is to avoid these feelings and hope that they fade away, like this was a phase you were feeling because you were lonely and longing for the comfort a relationship brought you.

That was the only logical thing to do, right?

—————————————————————————-

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, nothing… why do you ask?” You laughed nervously, internally cringing that you couldn’t lie for shit especially in front of Gareth. If you could keep Gareth distracted for long enough surely he’ll forget why you’re acting so strange. Was the room suddenly increasing in temperature? and was the walls always so closed in?

Gareth looked at you with a furrowed brow, looking at you side eyed. He was far from convinced at your poorly executed way of hiding the nerves that tied your stomach into knots and your brain racing at top speed.

“Yeah, ‘cause that was believable. You haven’t spoken to me since I arrived and you keep on chewing at your lip that it’s now bleeding and you keep on tapping your hand to your thigh. So don’t bullshit me Y/N what’s wrong?”

“It’s just that I have a lot on my mind” you spoke in such a fast pace that you doubt that he had even registered a single word that you just said. For when you were nervous, the nerves force your words out as soon as they popped into your brain, needing to fill the silence and not caring about how coherent your sentences sounded

“Did you say yes to Eddie?”

This was only the logical explanation Gareth could conjure up, for you always told him everything. He saw you at your worse, he even had to hold your hair back as you vomited from smoking weed for the first time when you believed that your limit was higher than it truly was.

“God no!”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing-“

“Just tell me-“

“I’m in love with you damn it!”

The silence that followed was deafening, it felt like the air was sucked out of your lungs making it hard to breathe. You felt sick, praying to whatever was above to strike you down so you don’t have to exist in this reality anymore. Burying your face in your hands feeling your cheeks burn as you were drowning in your own embarrassment, you’ve dug a hole so big you can’t escape from.

Do you ever think before opening your mouth!

“Y/N?”

“Gareth don’t!” You snapped not wanting him to talk further as you knew what was about to happen next, and you think you’d rather die than to hear Gareth list off the reasons why he didn’t like you back. “Just leave, I shouldn’t of said anything”

“I love you too”

You lifted your head out of your hands, blinking rapidly did you hear him properly?

“What?”

“Why else did you think I put ‘I was made for lovin you’ on your mix tape?”

“God you’re such a sap” you laughed out loud, letting relief wash over you. Your heart started to race as you couldn’t stop blushing like an idiot.

“Yeah but you love it clearly” he smirked, he leant into his impulse, the thing that he has been craving to do for weeks.

He pressed his lips upon yours, it was a sweet gentle kiss. It felt perfect, all the longing and pining over people who treated you like shit melted away into the background for now you know what their kisses was supposed to feel like. This felt right like your life was leading up to this moment.

You use to roll your eyes at poets and romantic films as they made you nauseous, selling love to be this grand beautiful thing something that would change your world for the better. But it’s hard to believe that when love had left you with so many knives in your back, you started to wonder that love was an illusion something made up, so they can sell valentines cards. But now you know what people meant when they spoke about love, for once in your life you finally found someone who truly loves you and you truly love them back.

A/N: I hope that you liked it, I was going to be mean and put it in three parts but I couldn’t do that to you. Some people may not like that they ended up with Gareth but it made so much sense, I’ve been on a Gareth obsession lately and Gwydion has a hold on me lately, could be because I’m Welsh and he has the most Welsh name ever. I’ve got more fics on the way, this was my first and definitely not my last gender neutral fanfic :)

Tag list:

@sebastiansstanswhore @protecteddiemunson4vr @simp4rengoku @hllfrclb

#stranger things angst #stranger things eddie #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #gareth stranger things #gareth emerson #gareth emerson x y/n #gareth the great #gareth emerson x reader

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mr2swap · 1 year

Text

After Christmas: 1

“Damn it, I can't take this one more day!” My father promised me that this would end today, that we would return to our original bodies, and we would never talk about everything that happened this winter vacation.

He has been putting off reversing the spell he “accidentally” cast on us so I can enjoy my youth for a couple of days. When mom left us my father looked so pathetic and sad, I thought that if I let him use my body for a day or two after Christmas it would be the most generous of me and the truth is I can fully understand why he did it ... his life is shit!

He was never able to finish high school for being an idiot, so all he could get was a 10-hour job as a low paid builder. Every day I wake up at morning, so I can start the day with 3 cups of coffee without sugar because “my” doctor told me that I had to watch my diet, some tasteless eggs and a couple of painkillers to be able to bear leaving the home without having to complain all day that I spend working under the sun.

At first, it was not so bad it was great to wake up in my father's room in his taller, stronger and older body, everything looked smaller especially my father who was now in my slim body of a 14-year-old boy, maybe it was the adrenaline rush and excitement that made me completely ignore the pain in my back and not have had a drop of coffee all day.

After confronting him and admitting that he was the cause that one day to the next he will wake up like a 48-year-old man we reached an agreement, we would return to our bodies once Christmas passed, I must admit that going out to do the shopping For Christmas dinner with my dad it was a lot of fun, we talked all day about everything I would have to do in his body, he even taught me how to drive, and he let me drink my first beer when we got home, I felt funny after empty a couple of cans, and it all seemed incredibly light especially with how big my arms are now.

But all the fun ended the next day, on Christmas Day as soon as I woke up again in this body you can understand why my father told me not to get too excited about drinking beer, I even think I was still a little drunk after drinking so much last night My head hurt like hell and the rest of my body didn't feel better, and I think for the first time I could understand why my father used to take those pills every day with his coffee.

While I was trying to go down the stairs carefully to have a lot of coffee that I now needed my father was already at the foot of the tree unwrapping the gifts that he had personally wrapped a couple of days before, when I realized what it was not I could believe it—DID YOU BUY ME A PS5?! — I quickly helped him connect it while he was just as excited as I was to play however I could see that there was only one control and after a short fight I decided I was too tired and screwed up to spend it all The day I was arguing over who would take the first turn playing and my head was killing me, I decided that I would play the next day once I returned to my young 14-year-old body.

However, the days have passed, and my father still does not break the spell, making excuses after excuses, and he doesn't even make an effort to lie to me during breakfast today. He told me, “have you started with that again? It starts to be annoying to hear you say the same thing every morning, “IT'S A SON OF A BITCH! Right now he must be on my first day of class pretending to be me and talking to my friends while I'm covered in sweat and dust, killing me at his shitty job.

I am doubting if one day I will recover my body, I have to find the spell that my father used to steal my life and be 14 years old again! … well I will do it tomorrow today Robert, a friend of my father from work invited me to drink a couple of beers on the way out of work, he said we had a lot of fun and was really pushy. I suppose there are good things about being an adult.

Hello! Happy New Year, this is the first story here on Tumblr, the second part and a short epilogue are on my patreon.

You can also join my discord server if you want to know the latest news of my stories or chat with me, Tumblr has me blocked or something and I can't receive messages, so discord is the only way to talk to me lol

#bodyswap #body switch #body swap #male body swap

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macverse · 3 months

Text

What you hope you can change

---

Chris wants you back but doesn't know if he deserves you. He sees how much he's ruined everything. He wants you to be happy, but it hurts to let you go.

---

A/N: Well, I've accidentally started a mini-series. This was all supposed to be a one-shot, lol. The series started because @shipheart commented, “I wonder what the reader will do next” and then this happened. I had a wild thought that this Chris/Reader couple could be the couple in Mi Amante and what happens in this series is what led them to start couples therapy. Some of the details are off but I like the idea that this is the back story. This series and Mi Amante are not related, it's just my headcanon within a headcanon, haha. I wrote once on something I was writing “I feel like I'm writing something much bigger than this is". I'm getting that same feeling again with these. It might be. Who knows. Special shout out to Vicky of Chris Evans fan page UK 🇬🇧 @chrisevansfanuk twitter. Since Mr. Evans had taken some time off when I started writing this, I need a secondary resource for content and research. These pages were a big help. Several 11 pm til much, much later writing well past the point of exhaustion sessions were supported by Vicky's pages. There was a very special sleepy moment where I was just blindly scrolling through your tweets cause I knew, I KNEW you had the info I needed but it was from months ago. I found it. Thank you so much.

---

“Chris?”

I didn't mean to be here. I did come here on purpose but I didn't think it would be that easy to find her. I'd thought maybe if I saw Y/N from far away, I could make up my mind. If she seems happy, if she seems like she’s in a good place, I could turn around and walk away. I could try to move on and let her go if she was okay.

That's not how it happened. We literally almost ran right into each other. One second I was deciding to give up, thinking it was providence that I hadn't seen her and the next I was colliding with Y/N.

“What are you doing here?”, Y/N asks after we’ve both recovered. “I’m honestly not following you. I heard from a friend that they'd seen you around here,” shit that sounds like I'm stalking her. She needs to know that I didn't mean for this to happen like this. I know I don't deserve a second of her time but if I can just get a moment then maybe things can be better. I hold my hands up, my palms forward as I continue, “I just wanna talk.” Uh, stress is cruel, fame's a lie

But you're special, on every level

Success is cool, money is fine

But you're special, another level The shock of Y/N leaving LA was like getting thrown into the deep end of a pool in the middle of winter. I realized too late that I was being an idiot. I was the reason she’d been there in the first place and I ignored her. I didn’t do it on purpose. My schedule kept filling up and my free time kept disappearing. I missed her but work was work. It couldn’t be ignored.

My assistant Josh had mentioned that he was getting a feeling that Y/N wasn't having a good time or didn't have much to do. He was the one who made sure I’d get a plus one so she could accompany me to my events. He'd even put together a list of exhibits and classes that I knew that Y/N would love, places we could go, and things we could do on dates but I kept putting it off because I was busy.

I kept thinking later, later but she left before I could get to later.

Listen

I see the men, they wanna touch ya

That's when I tell 'em, uh huh

I guess I am a jealous lover

'Cause I ain't sharin' with another lover

Stress is cruel, fame's a lie

But you're special, on every level

Success is cool, and money is fine

But you're special, another level

I was a mess after she left. I didn't have the time to be a mess but the minute there wasn't a camera in my face I would break down, the facade I kept up would crumble away and all I could feel was heartache. I muddled my way through the rest of the projects I had in LA. I can't even remember if I did work that I was happy with or not. The ache Y/N left in my chest was irrepressible. I could barely breathe sometimes.

The hole Y/N left in my life was tangible. You don't realize how entwined someone is into the fabric of every minute of your life until it hits you in the face.

I didn't realize how the simple touch of her hand stopped my mind from racing. I didn't realize how seeing her and my dog safely at home brought me peace.

I didn't realize how the smell of her perfume on the sheets made me feel like I was home every night.

I didn't realize how much her smile warmed me from the inside and made my heart sing in my chest.

I just didn't realize how much I loved her in my life...

Want more? Read the rest on my AO3.

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whumpndump · 2 years

Text

Old Dog, Old Tricks.

CW: General Whump Warning (Violence, Kidnapping, etc.), Flashbacks, Emetophobia, Non-con touch (non-sexual)

Based on this prompt by... well... me lol (although I did change parts of it lol)

======

Caretaker entered the living room, two cups of hot cocoa in their hands, and walked over to the roaring fireplace. Two plush chairs were either side of the fire, with Whumpee sat comfortably in one, snugly wrapped in a large sweater. Caretaker handed them a mug, then sat down in the remaining empty chair with their own, taking a long sip.

Whumpee stared into the drink, a small smile on their face, before breaking the silence.

“This is nice… I used to always hate winter. I was always so cold.. Maste- I mean, Whumper never helped me warm up.” They swirled the chocolatey beverage a little, before taking a small sip. Caretaker nodded solemnly, pulling the mug from their mouth to reply.

“I’m sorry they did that to you. I know I’ve already said this, but they were one twisted bastard, and you deserved nothing that they did to you.” A dark look settled on Caretaker’s face thinking about Whumper, which caused Whumpee to chuckle a bit.

“I know, I know, you’ve only said it about 100 times.” Whumpee replied teasingly.

Caretaker’s face lightened a little, cracking a slight grin at Whumpee’s light-hearted nature about the situation. A few months ago, Whumpee wouldn’t have dared to say anything considered even slightly rude to their new ““owner””, especially not something that implied they agreed Whumper was a bad person. Caretaker was proud at how far Whumpee had come, and proud at how they’d helped that happen. They supposed having some… personal experience with the topic helped them figure out what Whumpee needed easier than most would. The techniques they had used to recover from their own trauma came in very handy.

“They weren’t entirely bad though, y’know..” Caretaker snapped out of their internal celebration at Whumpee’s voice, concern replacing their pride pretty quickly.

“Whumpee... you know th-”

“Oh Shush!” Caretaker’s lips snapped shut. “Before you even finish that thought, I’m not just saying that because of any… weird conditioning or brainwashing or whatever. I’m being serious!”

Caretaker pulled a face at that. “Whumpee, we’ve had multiple in depth discussions about what they did to you. You cried talking about it. I think one time you threw up. This person is unequivocally a monster, but if you’re so sure… what ‘not so bad’ things did Whumper do?”

Whumpee’s giggle, like that of a lovestruck teenager, served to unnerve Caretaker even further. “Well… sometimes, if I was good, they’d bring me desserts! Like, one time, they hand-fed me a cupcake piece by piece.”

Caretaker cringed, which went entirely unnoticed by Whumpee, too far down memory lane revisiting the few good memories they had of Whumper “Oh, and one time, after a particularly rough punishment, they gave me a massage! Wasn’t that nice?”

“...Very nice!” Caretaker grinned, silently praying that wherever Whumper was, they were dead or suffering.

“Yeah, and sometimes, they’d just say nice things to me! They’d tell me I was doing a good job, and that I was beautiful, and they always called me-”

“My perfect angel.”

Caretaker jerked back from the hand under their chin, tilting their head up. Where were they? Last they could remember Caretaker was sitting wit-

No. They weren’t Caretaker. They were Pet. They weren’t sitting with anyone, other than Whumpe- no, Master. Yes, that’s right.

Pet looked up at Master, snapping out of their thoughts, as Master’s hand roughly grabbed their face again.

“What do you think you’re doing, pulling away? I just said you were perfect… do you want to make me a liar?” Master demanded. Pet frantically shook their head. They wanted to apologize, explain they had just been briefly lost in their thoughts, made a small mistake, but they knew better than to talk by this point. Holding their tongue, Pet let out a low whine and leant as hard as they could into their Master’s hand, hoping they understood their silent apology.

A warm, firm hand ran through their hair, as Master chuckled.

“Good Pet. No need to whine, no punishments for you tonight. You’re okay.”

“Okay.”

“-ou Okay”

“-e you Okay”

“Are you Okay?!” A new voice practically screamed into Pet’s ear. Their head felt cold, and the world seemed fuzzy. Was their face wet? That’s strange.

“Caretaker, please! I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry! I… I don’t know how to help you!” The new voice called out again, and Pet- wait no, Caretaker? Is that their name? Caretaker looked up at the source. Whumpee knelt by their side, tears running down their face, shoulders shaking, half empty cup of cocoa spilt across the hardwood floor.

Ah, they were on the floor.

And Whumpee was crying.

What? Huh?

Caretaker quickly righted themself, kneeling to match Whumpee’s height.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok! Calm down, it’s fine. Why are you crying? What happened?”

Whumpee looked flabbergasted at Caretaker’s words.

“Why am I crying? What happened?? I should be asking YOU that!!” Taking a few deep breaths, they calmed themself, looking Caretaker in the eye.

“OK. OK. So we were talking, discussing the nice things Whumper used to do for me sometimes.” Caretaker nodded along, grimacing at that concept just the same as the first time. “Yeah, it was going fine, until I said…”

Whumpee reached out and grabbed Caretaker’s shoulder’s, as if trying to physically stop them from slipping away again.

“M-My perfect angel.”

Caretaker’s breath caught in their throat, feeling themself go fuzzy. Why was Master holding their shoulders so hard… and shaking them? Woah, that was a lot of shaking-

SMACK

Caretaker’s eyes widened as a frantic Whumpee stared back at them, hand up in a post-slap position. They grit their teeth and sighed, looking and feeling frazzled.

“P-Please don’t leave again. You were crying and whimpering and shaking and- and it felt like looking in a mirror. Like how I was with Whumper. I… I won’t say those words again. At least not while we’re alone. Maybe with a therapist present or something, heh” Whumpee let out a strained laugh, clearly out of their depth. “…. Just, please don’t do that again. I can’t stand seeing you how I was.”

Caretaker felt their mind spinning, reaching their hand up to rub at the warm slap mark on their face. They looked at the floor, then back up at Whumpee, their mind struggling to keep up with everything. Whumpee looked hopeful as Caretaker opened their mouth to speak.

“I… I’m sorry master. Please forgive me.”

In the span of a second Whumpee’s face paled like a ghost’s. Then, in a flurry of movement, they jumped up and ran out of the room, throwing open the door to the bathroom, the sound of them retching and vomiting reaching down the hallway.

Caretaker, still in their kneeling position, began to silently cry again for a reason they couldn’t quite understand.

#whump #whumpblr #whump drabble #caretaker whump #caretaker turned whumpee #whumpee turned caretaker #pet whump #recovery whump #ignore any errors i beg you. its almost 1am #whumpdumps

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blu-joons · 2 years

Text

When You Surprise Them During Dance Rehearsals ~ æspa Reaction

Karina:

You waited until Jimin had finished her run through of the routine before stepping forwards, just as the music stopped. “I thought I’d come and see how you were doing,” you smiled as her puzzled eyes looked at you.

“This is a nice surprise,” she chuckled, picking up her bottle of water before walking across to you.

“The routine looks incredible,” you complimented straight away, catching Jimin’s smile turning up. “I can’t believe you’re going to have a solo stage,” you added, giggling excitedly as you knew how much it meant to her.

Jimin’s head came down to rest against your shoulder, “I’m so nervous, I want to make sure it’s a routine that everyone loves,” she admitted to you, throwing her water bottle back down to the ground.

“Trust me, from what I just saw of that routine, everyone is going to love it,” you encouraged, offering her a confident smile.

“You have to say that you like it,” Jimin teased.

Your head shook as you met her eyes, “I don’t have to say it, but I’m saying it this time because I mean it, I promise you that it’s great.”

“Thank you, that’s all that I needed to hear.”

Giselle:

Your hands clapped together as soon as the girls finished their routine, showing it to you for the first time. “You guys just get better and better with every comeback,” you laughed, filling them with compliments.

“I was going to ask if you liked it, but your smile says a lot,” Aeri smirked across the room at you.

“How can I not smile when you guys dance like that?” You asked all four of them. “I knew that your fans would love this comeback before, but now that I’ve seen the routine, I’m absolutely sure of that.”

Aeri smiled appreciatively back across at you, “remember that you’re not allowed to tell anyone about the routine. It’s top secret,” she grinned, finally standing up from the floor and walking over to you.

“My lips are sealed,” you promised all of them, “but when you comeback, I’ll be gushing all about this routine just so you know.”

“Did you like it that much?” Aeri asked.

Your head nodded as if the answer were obvious, “you guys have to be humble, but I don’t have to be, it was just amazing.”

“I’m so glad you’re our biggest fan.”

Winter:

Your eyes widened as you walked into the studio to see the four girls laid out across the room. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be dancing?” You teased, taking a seat beside where Minjeong was laid.

“We’re exhausted,” she told you, the sound of her heavy breaths catching your attention quickly.

“Why are you working so hard?” You frowned, placing your hand against her arm as you looked around at the rest of the girls too. “Have you guys even taken a break? You left the house at five this morning.”

Minjeong’s head shook in response to your question. “They want us to get this routine down today, and if we don’t, then it sounds like they’ll be a lot of disappointment,” she sighed, sitting herself back up.

“No,” you told her, stopping all of the girls from getting up, “I’m here now, and I’m telling you to take five minutes to rest.”

“The company won’t be happy,” Minjeong warned.

Your shoulders shrugged back across to her, “I don’t care, let them scold me if they want to, but you need to look after yourselves guys.”

“Y/N’s right, we need to recover for a moment.”

Ningning:

Your knock at the door brought four pairs of eyes across to look, with Ning waving you in as soon as she saw you. “What are you doing here?” She laughed, noticing a bag held tightly in your hand as you walked in.

“I thought you could do with some bits to help your energy,” you smiled, handing the bag across.

“You’re the best,” Ning laughed as the other girls all began to browse through what you had brought, whilst Ning poked against your arm. “We were just saying how much we want to get some coffee.”

Your head nodded at the wide smile that was on her face, “I must be able to read your mind,” you joked, placing your hand against Ning’s back to encourage her to join the others and get some food too.

“This is amazing,” Aeri told you, opening up one of the chocolate bars that you’d bought, “Y/N, I think you’re my new favourite.”

“Y/N’s not even a member of the team,” Jimin laughed.

Aeri’s head shook as Ning stared across at her, “I don’t think she needs to be a member; I’ve already decided that she’s my favourite anyway.”

“I’m her favourite before any of you guys are.”

---

Masterlist

#aespa #aespa imagine #aespa reaction #aepsa scenario #aespa reactions #aespa scenarios #karina imagine #giselle imagine #winter imagine #ningning imagine #karina #giselle #winter #ningning #aespa drabble #aespa one shot #aepsa fluff #kpop #kpop imagine

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late-to-the-party-81 · 9 months

Text

You bring me closer to God - Ch4

AN: I hope you’ve enjoyed the filth. This chapter is now deep in feels, so I hope you enjoy that too. Massive thanks to my wonderful beta @hannahshattuck with all her random screaming as she read through.

The prompt for this week is a Free Week, with the optional sub-prompt of ‘B’. I have gone for Boyfriends.

This chapter also brings my Hot Bucky Summer to a close. I’m so happy I managed all 13 weeks and I hope there was something for everyone across that time period. A massive huzzah to @buckybarnesevents for hosting. Please check out their account for each week’s master lists and give the authors some love.

Main Master list | Hot Bucky Summer Master List | Chapter 3

Summary: As Joaquín recovers he realises something isn’t quite right with Bucky. Is it time to actually talk with each other?

Word Count: 1.8k

CW: Dom Drop, After Care, Communication, Angst, Feelings, Fluff, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Sam is so done with this shit.

Joaquín wasn’t sure how long he laid a boneless, dazed mess in Bucky’s arms. Eventually though, he came back to himself and realised that a couple of things weren’t as they usually were. Firstly, he was still sweaty and sticky with cum and lube. Normally Bucky cleaned him up fairly quickly. Secondly, Bucky was silent, not whispering sweet nothings and dropping soft kisses to his cheeks.

Using all his energy, Joaquín turned over, and what he saw sent a stabbing sensation to his heart. He reached up, his fingers sweeping over Bucky’s sharp cheekbone and then threaded them into his hair, a few strands of silver starting to show in amongst the chestnut brown. He took a deep breath, and addressed the elephant in the room.

“Are you okay, Bucky? You’re crying.”

Bucky’s eyelids shot open at the inquiry. Often, when Joaquín had the chance to study Bucky’s eyes, they reminded him of a crisp winter’s day, the type he’d only experienced after he’d moved to DC, but now they were different. They were dull, the icy blue turning misty grey, more reminiscent of perpetual drizzle, a comparison which was compounded by the stream of tears.

Bucky’s face crumpled and he pulled Joaquín against him, in a crushing embrace. He cried silently and Joaquín felt the dampness of his lover’s tears on his collarbone. He was shaken to the core. He’d never seen this type of emotional reaction from Bucky. Anger? Yes. Amusement? Yes. But never sadness like this. That’s when he realised, Bucky was suffering from Dom drop - the sudden high from their scene falling away and leaving him filled with guilt and remorse along with an immense sadness. It was up to him to help him, so Joaquín tangled their legs together, and did for Bucky what Bucky normally did for him - he stroked his hair, and talked softly.

“It’s okay, mi sol. It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

He repeated variations on these words for a few minutes, interspersed with gentle shushing, until Bucky raised his head. His eyes were red rimmed and his cheeks were flushed and damp.

“I almost lost you.” He croaked out his words. “Do you know that? I thought that missile was going to hit you. Why’d you take that risk? Why?”

Bucky’s expression was one of panic and confusion and Joaquín knew that only the truth would satisfy the deadly assassin in his arms. He let out an amused sigh, his lips turning up at the edges.

“Because I love you, Bucky. Ti amo. I saw you in danger, and I just reacted.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide as he processed what he’d just heard.

“You love me? Me? What? Why?”

Joaquín chuckled. How is he this fucking cute? He dropped a kiss to Bucky’s nose, his mouth breaking into a full smile.

“I’m trying to decide whether you’re being obtuse or fishing for compliments. I love you, James Buchanan Barnes, for a multitude of reasons. You’re handsome, brave, and funny. You’re loyal and dedicated. You’re tender and caring. And to top it off, you have an amazing dick.”

Bucky snorted and blushed at the same time.

“I’m not worth it, Torres. You should walk away. I’m a broken, centenarian murderer.”

If Joaquín had never seen Bucky sad before, Bucky had never seen Joaquín angry before. The young man cupped Bucky’s face and jerked his head up, forcing eye contact, his nostrils flaring

“Listen here, Sergeant. I decide who’s worthy of my love. Not you. Did I intend to fall in love with you? Hell no. I knew this was just a physical release for you, and I was determined it would be the same for me. But somehow, along the way, you wormed your way into my heart. To be honest, I think I started to fall in love with you the first day we met, when you ripped that damn sleeve off your jacket. But you need to understand - you’re not broken. Maybe once, but not any more. Cracked and dented? Possibly. But who isn’t? Also, as established by various committees and tribunals, you are not a murderer. And if you’re going to bring up your age, I’ll have you know I happen to like older men, and you don’t look a day over ninety.”

His teasing had the desired effect. Suddenly, Bucky surged up, rolling Joaquín onto his back and placing kisses all over his smooth cheeks.

“You’re a little shit, you know that?”

“Whatever, Grandpa. You just have no sense of humour.”

Bucky captured his lips and Joaquín let him take what he needed. Unlike earlier though, this was less about a visceral, physical need, but more to do with a personal, emotional connection. Joaquín let it continue, reciprocating, inviting Bucky into his mouth, enjoying Bucky’s gentle domination.

When Bucky broke the kiss he rested their foreheads together.

“You love me, huh?”

“Si. So very much. Even though I told myself I shouldn’t. I hope this doesn’t change anything between us. I understand if it does though.”

“I… I care for you, Quín. Maybe it’s more than that. I don’t know. It’s been so long since I felt… love. Am I even capable of it any more?”

Joaquín shuffled in the bed, wrapping his legs around Bucky’s hips, holding him in place.

“Do you wanna find out?”

“I think maybe I do.” He kissed Joaquín again and nothing else was said for a long time.

“Where’s Bucky? We’re supposed to be wheels up in ten minutes.”

Joaquín watched Sam pace up and down the jet, filled with pre-mission nerves, from the corner of his eye as he went through all the pre-flight checks. It was a fairly low-key, local mission, so he was piloting today, but with his wings on stand-by just in case.

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon, Sam. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Sam stopped in his tracks, turning on his feet to face his protegee with a look of feigned outrage on his face and his hands on his hips. His lips twitched in barely restrained amusement.

“You’re speaking to me like that now? Where’s the respect? The youth of today. Jeez.”

Joaquín just grinned back at him, until his attention was grabbed by sight of Bucky swaggering up the ramp.

He’d known all along why Bucky was late. It was because he’d spent the whole night in Joaquín’s bed, doing unspeakably wonderful things to him, and had to go back to his own room when they’d gotten the call from Sam half an hour ago, in order to get a change of clothes and all of his tactical gear. It had been a hilarious few minutes, as first Bucky’s phone had gone off, while Joaquín still had his lips wrapped around him. Feeling full of mischief, he hadn’t stopped what he was doing while Bucky was on the call, seeing if his boyfriend - Boyfriend! - could keep his composure while getting head. Annoyingly, it turned out, he could. He managed to cum down Joaquín’s throat with barely a whimper as Sam gave him the mission details, something that seemed to the younger man to be thoroughly unfair.

As soon as Sam had hung up, Bucky had thrown his phone across the bed, flipped Joaquín over and started to fist his cock and kiss along his jawline, just as Joaquín’s phone had gone off.

“Answer it, baby-boy, let’s see if you can keep your cool.”

Joaquín had whimpered and bitten his bottom lip before reaching out blindly to pick up his phone and answer the call. He had no idea how he’d gotten through it, having to mute his end several times because he couldn’t keep his gasps in check, not with the way Bucky was touching him, teasing his cock in more ways than he knew were possible with just one hand. In the end he’d had to garble out a “Gotta go, see you there” and abruptly hung up on Sam, before his phone joined Bucky’s somewhere in the messy sheets.

“Not very stealthy, Falcon. Maybe you need more practice?” Whether it was the condescending tone, or the way Bucky pinched at his nipple with the fingers of his left hand that sent him over the edge, Joaquín wasn’t sure, but suddenly he was cumming with a shout and the sound of Bucky’s deep, rumbling chuckle in his ear.

Bucky dropped himself down in the co-pilot’s seat, pulled one of his knives from one of the various places about his body he kept them stashed, and proceeded to clean his nails with the tip.

“What’d I miss?” His words were directed at Sam, even if he was smiling down into his lap.

“Just our boy here being disrespectful to his elders.”

Bucky’s eyebrow quirked up, but he still kept his gaze on what he was doing with his knife.

“Yeah? Need me to put him in his place, Sam?”

Joaquín felt a mixture of panic and arousal flood through him as he gawked at Bucky, before turning his head towards Sam, who now had his arms crossed over his chest.

“Barnes, I swear to God, I don’t need to know about your sex life.”

Now both he and Bucky were staring at Sam, mouths agape.

“Come on, it’s not like the either of you are fucking subtle. Just, please, try and keep the bodily fluids contained. I don’t wanna end up sitting in either of your wet patches.” Sam shook his head and moved to take a seat near the rear of the plane, as far away from them as possible, picking up the folder with the mission briefing in it. “Fucking perverts, I swear…”

Joaquín and Bucky turned toward each other, eyes wide, both of them shocked for a few seconds, before bursting out laughing. Joaquín was the first to speak.

“Dios. I think he knows, Bucky.”

“You think?” came the quick retort, and then Joaquín felt two mismatched hands on his face, pulling him in for their first public kiss. He sagged against Bucky, hands holding onto the straps of his tactical vest.

“Get a room!” Sam’s loud shout broke them apart and set them off into another fit of the giggles. “Better yet, start the goddamn plane.”

Joaquín eased himself back with a cough, trying to ignore the smirk on Bucky’s face, and started to flip the switches in front of him. Bucky nudged him in the shoulder, getting his attention back.

“Ready to go save the world with your boyfriend?” Bucky cocked his head and his smile reached his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. Joaquín’s heart did a backflip.

“Absolutely…”

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel @kmc1989

#hot bucky summer #hotbuckysummer2023 #late writes #bucky barnes x joaquin torres #bucky barnes #joaquin torres

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mareastrorum · 7 months

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WIP Wednesday: The Fool and the Soldier, Ch. 6 (Beach)

The Fool and the Soldier is now up on AO3, updated every other Friday. This is an off-week, so here is a snippet from next week’s chapter! Commentary on Chapter 5 will go up on Friday.

Fanfic Summary: Mollymauk Tealeaf survived the Mighty Nein's encounter with the Iron Shepherds on Glory Run Road, but a short time later, a spirit began hunting him, claiming that he stole his body. This Campaign 2 AU begins with Episode 26 and continues on from there.

The afternoon sun burned warmly overhead. The salt in the air, the chill breeze, the cries of gulls—the sea was close by, likely visible in the next clearing. For the first time in months, Fjord felt truly giddy with excitement. He had never truly had a home, and this felt like a homecoming.

But there was a sour tinge to it all. He pulled the letter from his bag of holding—his personal trophy from the Iron Shepherds—to refresh his memory.

Many thanks to you Ionos, for dealing with the thieves who appropriated my possession. Reliability like this will prove profitable for you and your house should you continue to be. One half of our agreed payment is enclosed with the other being paid upon recovery of the Cloven Crystal. It is imperative that you find this bauble and return it to me. It has great sentimental value to me and my family. This rendering should suffice to guide the discerning eyes of your hunters. Time is of the essence. Should I not have it by the end of Quen’pillar, I shall be forced to end our agreement and seek a business relationship elsewhere. I warn you: we are fiercely loyal to those who appease us, and staunchly resentful to those who do not. When recovered, please deliver to Marius LePual at the Wayfarer's Cove. Tell him you have a gift for the Captain. Avantika

Two weeks too late for that. Fjord only hoped the lead had not run dry. Marius LePual probably wasn’t still waiting around, but maybe the Nein could track him down somehow. If he was a runner of some kind, he’d be known to the wharfmaster or other dock workers.

“That’s nice,” Caduceus said, pulling Fjord out of his thoughts. They had just crested the hill to see the shore and the walls of Nicodranas, a few of the piers visible just off to the side. The winter sun had lowered enough to create a trail of shimmering light across the choppy water. There was some rough terrain before the sandy beach, but it wasn’t too far off the road.

Fjord took a deep breath of the sea air and smiled. “Indeed. I missed this.”

“I don’t know what smell I expected, but this wasn’t it,” Molly commented from the side of the cart, sniffing periodically. “Salty, but kind of like… plants? Moss? But thicker.”

“Better the beach than a city shipyard for your first experience,” Fjord replied. An idea popped into his head, and he did his best not to shift his expression. “The smells of rotten wood and spoiled fish never leave the shippin’ docks, and that can color your opinion. Beach water doesn’t taste nearly as bad as port water either.”

“Good to know before we arrive,” Molly half-hummed as he looked over at the shore. Fjord pinched one of his fingers to help keep from breaking into a smile. Gods, he hoped that would work.

Before long, the Nein made their way to the beach, leaving the cart and horses just shy of the sand. Caduceus checked on the animals—Fjord wasn’t entirely sure if he could actually speak to them, but it kept them calm enough—while the others began pulling off their boots and outer garments.

Oddly enough, Caleb seemed mesmerized. As soon as they stopped, he walked off toward the water as he stripped his clothes and waded into the waves, stark naked, without a word. Then he disappeared under the surface.

“Be careful, Cay-cay!” Nott called worriedly after him. “Water’s dangerous!” As she said that, Caleb suddenly reappeared on the water, floating on his back. Nott whined slightly, gripping her cloak.

Fjord smiled. Maybe this would be a good chance to help the goblin with her fear of water. “See, Nott? Easy as pie.” She grimaced at him and began collecting the human’s clothes. Well, if Caleb going in the water wasn’t going to convince her to try it, Fjord wasn’t going to either.

“I’ll check on him!” Molly called out excitedly, already tossing the last of his clothes off as he rushed after Caleb. (Why was everyone going in naked?)

Fjord shook his head and walked after them after leaving his boots and gauntlets in the cart. Molly soon dove in, then almost immediately resurfaced and got to his feet, coughing. Fjord resisted the urge to laugh, settling for a shit-eating grin.

“That’s awful!” Molly griped, hair drooping over his eyes as he sputtered to get the taste out of his mouth.

“I didn’t say it’d taste good, just that it’s not nearly as bad!” Fjord called, unable to keep the satisfaction out of his voice.

Molly spat out the rest and flipped his hair over to clear his face. The tiefling gave a quick glare at Fjord before he shifted to a tight smile and nodded. “I’ll remember that, Fjord.”

“Sure, Molly.” Fjord nodded back and chuckled. He checked behind him to see that the rest of the Nein seemed to be enjoying their time. Beau had traversed one of the jetties to sit and… meditate? She looked oddly peaceful. Caduceus planted himself in the sand near the water to build something, the incoming tide slowly inching closer to his work. Jester had begun training her blink dog, Nugget. Nott was hiding behind a small rock, watching the overhead gulls closely as they began swooping down at some food on the beach.

No one else wanted to swim? Well, their loss.

Molly swam a short distance off, interested in something below the water. Caleb still buoyed in silence, now about two dozen feet out.

That mischievous itch cropped up again. Fjord summoned the falchion and used the enchantment to teleport next to the man, instantly startling Caleb, who began to flail in the water.

Fjord spoke up, “Whoa, hey! All right there, chief. Okay, all right, you’re good. Sorry.” He almost meant it.

“You can’t— just sneak up— on a person,” Caleb complained between hoarse inhales and coughs.

Fjord grinned. “Sorry, I just figured you want some company. It’s really tranquil, isn’t it?”

Caleb gave a knowing look and began treading the water. “Oh, it’s very quite nice.”

Just as Fjord was about to respond, he felt an appendage wrap around one ankle, far too long to be a hand. In that split second, it occurred to him that it could be a tentacle, but octopuses and squids didn’t grow that big. Before he could speak, something grabbed his other leg and dragged him into the water.

A moment of panic. His armor enchantment helped him to swim, but it didn’t grant him water breathing—he needed to break free and fast. He began a front crawl, surprised that he easily broke away from whatever it was. How had it dragged him below if it couldn’t hold on—

Once Fjord turned underwater, Molly smiled smugly at him as he waved both hands and his tail at the half-orc. That fucker.

Fjord surfaced and took a breath, smirking in Molly’s direction as he came up as well. “Alright, we’re even then.”

Molly blew a raspberry. “Hardly!”

Caleb muttered something in Zemnian to himself and sighed.

The next two hours pass by mostly in leisure, when Molly wasn’t up to some mischief. Caleb stayed out on the water, calmly floating, staring up at the sky. Beau had left the jetty and seemed to be trying to coax her owl to do something. Jester, her crimson weasel on her shoulders and puppy in her arms, took a break to check in on Caduceus, who had built… something. Almost resembling a hill, and that was being generous. But there were some shells decorating the top, and that was about what could be expected for a first time building with sand. Unfortunately, the incoming tide soon destroyed it anyway, so Jester went back to training Nugget and Caduceus waded contentedly in the shallows. Nott had managed to shoot a seagull or two, and the peacock (Afternoon Tea? Fjord had lost track of its latest name) had decided it was its duty to chase all the other gulls away. Molly wandered between the groups, paying no mind to his nudity for the most part, but eventually putting some pants and his tunic back on once the late afternoon breeze got too chilly. By then, Caleb had wandered back to the shore, put his clothes back on, and took a nap in the cart bed, a hint of red on his nose and cheeks.

It wasn’t a proper day at the beach if it didn’t end with sore muscles and a slight sunburn.

As the others began to wind down, Fjord walked the beach to look for anything that the others might find interesting. Caleb had mentioned his striped stone with a circle all around the center was lucky. There was some seaglass because of the proximity to the harbor, but they were mostly pieces too small to be worth collecting. Eventually, he spotted a smooth green stone with a snakeskin pattern in it, some parts of it matching his skin tone. It took a moment to remember the name: serpentinite, supposedly protective against poison, but that was just superstition. It was only a pretty ocean rock. Fjord flipped the stone over, inspecting it as his thoughts drifted off.

His name was Fjord Stone according to some records in Port Damali and a few harbormaster ledgers, but it wasn’t like that had bound him to it. There were times when he despised the name, when he took pride in it, when he felt nostalgic for it. Thirty years of indecision.

It was just a name. It was more than a name. It was only a word. It was the most important one he had. It belonged to an untold number of orphans. It was his and his alone.

Who am I?

“Hey, Fjord!” Molly yelled from a distance. “What’s this?”

Fjord looked up to see the tiefling had wandered off to something near the jetty Beau had since abandoned, Caduceus standing next to him and looking down. Another prank, maybe? It didn’t seem like Caduceus to join in on that. Fjord pocketed the stone and approached warily, but both men were too enamored with inspecting a collection of animals and plants caught in a tide pool, which was slowly resupplied with sea water as the waves gently moved in. His suspicion faded away.

“That’s a tide pool,” Fjord explained. “The water line shifts in and out twice each day, and sometimes there’s pools deep enough to hold water between the tides.” He pointed out a few residents he recognized: kelp, anemones, snails, mussels, sea urchins, sea stars, and abalones.

“That’s great,” Caduceus drawled, quite satisfied to merely observe. Molly almost reached for each one, but Fjord wasn’t going to let the tiefling get stung by half of the creatures in it. He wasn’t sure who he was, but he knew he wasn’t cruel.

Maybe, once Fjord had answers to what had happened on the Tide’s Breath, he’d sort out who he was supposed to be.

#critical role fanfiction #wip wednesday #TF&TS #the mighty nein #fjord stone

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lorifragolina · 8 months

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Sweet pies

I forgot to share the last parts of Mungrove summer bingo, so here you are. Sixth entry for Mungrove Summer Bingo 2023 prompt: A2 Band Day

@mungrovebingos

Breaking the news

Billy Hargrove generally used to say that he loved his job.

He loved being the center of attention, he didn’t deny it. He likes the clothes, the pictures and the money too.

But when he had to pose in a Mediterranean beach in the middle of the hottest summer ever - and not because his lover was there, waiting for him to finish the photoshoot - wearing a orange fake fur with something like a hundred degree, and the photograph had totally lose his head screaming at him “Could you please try not to sweat, darling”, and all the crew running back and forth like headless chicken boiling in the heat, he didn’t love it so much.

He was literally cooking in his own sweat and probably he had mental damages he would never recover from; he saw tourists and locals lying on the beach, drinking and swimming in the sea and he thought to escape swimming to never return.

The situation was slightly better at the resort, there was air conditioning but he came into his room so exhausted he could barely crash on the bed, not to mention have sex with his lover, or even call his official boyfriend on the other side of the ocean.

“And we have another two days of work, I doubt I will survive” he ranted the second night on the video call.

“Steve doesn’t help you, sweetheart?” mocked Eddie.

“I am not able to lower the planet's temperature right now. One day I will, but now I can’t” answered Steve in the same tone, giving a fresh orange juice to a dehydrated Billy.

“Oh shut up, Eddie, he’s a sweetheart, but the problem is shooting the winter campaign right here and right now”.

Eddie laughed. “At least you enjoy the resort now” he said with a little harsh voice, because he would be there with them.

Billy sipped his juice, hoping Steve would pour a generous amount of rum in the next glass. He too would have Eddie there, but he was so boiled and tired he and Steve could have sex only two times last night, one of them in video call with Eddie. He wasn’t positive he could have any intercourse that night, he had a terrible headache and the sand, the sweat, and the synthetic fur weren’t a good combination on his skin, and he felt burned and bruised.

“How are things over there?” asked Steve sitting at Billy’s side in front of the camera.

“Not really good either… we don’t really progress. We did something but nothing finished, and Gareth seems to have problems too, he isn’t concentrating”.

“Oh. What happened?”

“I don’t know, he is always on the phone with his girlfriend, they had a sort of argument… I think she isn’t happy he is here with us instead of at home with her”.

“Yes, I understand…” said Billy, allusive.

“Ehi I never said you couldn’t go, I just said I would be there with us!” said Eddie, stung. Steve and Billy laughed.

“Yes, babe, you just fussed a little. Don’t worry, we are not having such a good time as it seems. Maybe in two days when I finished that campaign of hell”.

Eddie nodded.

“I don’t want you to go to Mykonos without me” pouted Eddie, when Billy told him about his new job.

“I don’t go for fun” said Billy, and it was true, he could barely visit the places where he worked. He had been in Paris three times and he just visited two or three things in the city center. “But you can come at least”.

“I don’t think so… I told you we have to lock up to work on the new tracks…”

“Oh god, yes, is it now? That mansion in Montecito?”

Eddie nodded and scoffed, falling dramatically on the sofa. “I wish I had sorted some holidays for this summer…” he mumbled. At the beginning of the year he decided to work all summer, with gigs and writing and promotion, but he didn’t expect to meet Billy and then Steve and to desire so strongly some time with them. Billy had a lot of work too, so they had to steal a little time to spend together. “We should go to Mykonos together and have sex all the time together,” he pouted.

“Come on. Anyway I have to work, I couldn't have much holidays… but I can check the resort for you and then we will come there together, ok?”

Eddie cupped his face and kissed sweetly his lips. “Have you asked Steve if he could come?”

“Not yet, do you mind?”

“It’s not on me, my love. You know… we’re together in this”.

“Ok, but promise me solemnly we will go to Mykonos together on holiday as soon as possible”.

“I promise, baby” Smiled Eddie and kissed him again. Billy took his phone and called Steve, while Eddie took off his pants and put him on his stomach, kissing his lower back and then rimming him. By the time Steve came to Billy’s apartment, he was already in all four and covered in hickeys, and both of them were really glad to see him frantically opening his clothes.

Eddie collected the rest of the band with the van. They had to wait for Gareth who seemed to be having an argument with his girlfriend. He sat in the van and didn’t say a word. Eddie thought to Steve and Billy on a private plane to Greece and cursed his career and his commitments.

When he put his bag on the bed, he missed Billy and Steve so much. He was madly in love with Billy, and he was enjoying having a boyfriend and such boyfriend, and he likes Steve so bad, although they hadn’t defined their relationship yet; he imagined the three of them at the edge of the pool, drinking a margarita in the sunset, making love in the water and then sleep together in that bedroom where he was, with the view on the garden and the scent of the valley.

He took the guitar and a pencil and tried strumming something, a little nervous at that moment. He could hear Gareth at the other end of the hallway talking loudly on the phone, and he felt that would be a long long week.

He closed the video call with Billy and Steve the second day; Billy was badly hurt by the sun and the heat and Steve was just spreading a fresh cream on him; it was morning in California and he was hard as usual, and frustrated for not having none of them at hand.

He went to the kitchen for breakfast and met Gareth with a cup of coffee already cold and dark eyebags in his face.

“Hey, whatsup dude?” He tried to appear funny.

“Nothing…”

“Troubles in paradise?” said Eddie, who didn't have much tact, and Gareth flashed his eyes.

“What if you mind your business, dude?” Gareth mocked his tome.

“Whoa, I’m sorry. Ehi” Eddie put a hand on his arm, willing to make him feel better after all. “I’m not happy too, I feel alone too”.

“Do you miss Billy?” Eddie nodded. “I’m sorry… What about we try to work hard so we can come home early?”.

Eddie gave him a pat on the back, smiling, and when the rest of the band came to breakfast, they went to the studio and made a great effort to make progress as soon as possible.

At the end of the afternoon, while he was already at his third whisky, he received a video call from Steve. He wasn’t good at those things but it must be early morning in Greece.

He went to his room to answer. He saw Steve adjusting the camera to focus on the bed, where Billy was sleeping. Steve was naked and whispered to Eddie, stroking a little himself. Eddie sat in the bed spreading his legs and lit a joint.

Billy was sleeping lightly because of the heat and the burning in his skin. He also felt sweaty from the lotion Steve had spreaded, and he had a little relief only from the fresh, clean sheets.

He felt Steve moving his hair from his nape and dropped a little kiss on it, calling him sweetly.

“Babe… ehi, babe…”

Steve’s hands were slipping on his skin, under the sheets. He felt his skin getting sensitive and tickling and Steve seemed don’t mind his greasy skin, and was lightly biting his neck.

“Babe, look who is there…” he whispered, while Billy opened his eyes and searched his lips to kiss him.

“Ehi bunny” said Eddie from the phone, licking his lips and enjoying his two beautiful men.

“Eddie…” whispered Billy barely awake, smiling and turning on his back. Steve removed the sheets and looked at the camera that was recording the entire scene.

Eddie took his dick off his pants and started to jerk a little. He moved the camera to show himself and Steve moaned, pressing his boner on Billy’s belly. Billy now was awake and hard in return. Steve licked his own hand and started to touch him, going down from his happy cock to his crack.

“Fuck I wish I have your fucking lips here” whined Eddie.

“What would you do?” asked Steve, fingering Billy, who arched with a hot cry.

Eddie was stroking himself fast, he needed relief but he wanted to see the other two fuck.

“I’d full your mouth and fuck your slutty throat. I would suffocate you and make you swallow my cum”.

Steve put some lube on his dick. They normally indulged more in foreplay and preparation, but he felt the urgency too and Billy was moving so hot under him…

Billy turned on his side facing the camera. He looked straight to the camera to make Eddie look in his eyes.

“Fuck him hard” Eddie ordered, and Steve lifted Billy’s leg, laying behind him, and started filling him, soft at the beginning but harder while he sinked gradually in Billy.

Eddie’s heart beat faster with his hand, while they had sex just for exciting him and for his amusement.

“Oh, fuck, oh god, please, please…” whined Billy, trying to keep his eyes open, looking directly into the camera while he felt every inches of Steve thrushing deeply in him. Steve was rubbing him and he made him come, and Eddie followed him with a low growl, and the three had to rest a moment, their breaths really fast, after they could say anything at all.

“I miss you,” Billy said to the camera. Steve came out of him and looked straight to the camera too.

“I miss you too,” he said.

Eddie stayed silent, overwhelmed, his body shaking for a fucking video call from Europe.

“I love you” he said then, to both, with harsh voice

He closed the call and went to a shower and then to dinner. Steve and Billy got to shower together too and prepare for the day, another boiling day of shooting.

“Eds… how are you?” Gareth got near to him, with a concerned expression that he was trying to hide, although he was too transparent to fake confidence.

It was the fourth day of recording and they sorted a lot of things; Eddie was chilling with his foot in the pool and was dying of nostalgia. They have four days more of reservation at the mansion and Billy and Steve were flying back at that exact moment. They spent the last half day and the night in the infinity pool of the resort, in some fancy restaurant and then in a club that Billy liked very much, and they solemnly promised they would come back there together.

“Fine, thanks” said Eddie sharply, curious but wary.

Gareth smiled nervously and sat at his side. Eddie noticed he was looking from time to time to the garden door.

“What’s the problem?” Eddie started to feel a little nervous too, because it was clear that Gareth had something to say but was just taking time.

“No, no problems… well…”

“Gareth, please”.

“Ok, well, I’m… I’m sorry I’m the one to have to say it…”

“Gareth, for Christ’s sake” Eddie barked.

“Ok…” Gareth took his phone. “You… You said that Billy was working in Greece, didn't you?”

Eddie raised his eyebrow and pursed his lips.

Gareth handed him his phone. In a page that seemed like a gossip tabloid online, there were some photos of Billy in a pool, in a cocktail bar on the beach and in a fancy restaurant. He wore his sunglasses, but was bright, shining, happy and smiling, glamorous as usual and dressed to kill; and he wasn’t alone. In every picture he was with a tall, brown haired man, with a straight nose and big eyes; and they were holding hands, hugging and kissing in a very intimate, unquestionable way.

Eddie sighted. He couldn’t blame Billy and Steve for blowing some steam off and having a good time on their last night in Mykonos, but he didn’t think some paparazzi could find them there.

“Billy Hargrove’s new love?” Said the title of the article. They didn’t put a real effort in it. Eddie read rapidly, the text said that they spent time together on the island, intimating, and at the end of the night they entered the same hotel hand in hand.

Eddie gave back the phone to Gareth and looked him in the face. He honestly wanted to laugh, but he understood Gareth's concern. He didn’t tell his bandmate about their relationship, because frankly at the moment it wasn’t their business.

“Is he… I’m sorry, Eddie”.

Of course, Gareth recognized Steve, they met him for the first time together, and he understood his worries, not only for Eddie himself but also for their job.

Eddie bit his lips. He didn’t want to say anything to Gareth, but he was cool with that, obviously.

“Don’t worry, Gareth. Thanks”

“What… do you… will you do something?”

“For now I want to talk with him. Really, don’t worry. I’ll manage it.

Eddie was afraid to see Gareth so concerned, but they weren’t ready yet to say all to everyone.

He left the pool waving Gareth with his hand. He came into his bedroom and lit a cig on the balcony, looking at his phone and trying to calculate when he could talk with Billy and Steve.

At the beginning of the week they all decided that their partners would come to the mansion the next few days, but now Gareth felt that he was tip-toeing on eggshells. Eddie didn’t tell him if he talked with Billy, he kept working on the soundtrack songs, and it could be a good sign, but the sound of the last song seemed to him a little more raged that the others, so he hasn’t been so brave to ask him.

Jeff’s kids were the first to arrive. Eddie stayed at the pool reading the last Hopper Holloway’s book, but Gareth was watching and he saw he was looking at the same page again and again.

Gareth’s girlfriend parked at the entrance and Eddie came out with Gareth too; he said that they greeted in a sort of cold way, but they all were distracted by the other car approaching a minute later. Gareth saw who was driving and he held his breath, looking alternatively at the car and Eddie.

Eddie’s face didn’t give a hint. He came near the car when Billy parked and he opened the driver’s door, almost pulling out Billy and leant him in his arms, hugging him strongly and kissing him ferally.

“I missed you, darling!” he exclaimed, squeezing him with all his body.

Steve came out from the other door. Gareth tried not to look at his face. He approached Eddie and waited until he finished to greet Billy, a little embarrassed.

Eddie looked to him over Billy's shoulder, and smiled. He left his boyfriend and Steve came near him.

“Ehi, missed you too, angel” he whispered, caressing his cheek softly and then peeking at him, eyes closed, sweetly.

He took both Billy and Steve by their hands and climbed the entrance steps. Gareth was speechless.

“You see, Gareth, Billy and Steve are there together because we are all three together, he…” Eddie looked at Steve “is our boyfriend too” he smiled.

Steve gasped. “You… you mean…” but Eddie shushed with a look and they entered together.

Despite being utterly confused, Gareth was sincerely relieved.

Steve kept quiet until they were in Eddie’s bedroom. “Have you really said that? " he asked, a little nervous. Billy was waiting too.

Eddie smiled and took Steve’s hand. “I meant it… well if you feel the same, obviously. And you” he also took Billy’s hand.

“Of course” whispered Steve, blushing. “I love you…”

“Me too,” smiled Billy.

They hugged and kissed. Then they felt together in the bed, they would celebrate later with their good sex, but at that moment they just wanted to hold each other sweetly.

#eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #mungrove summer bingo #wip #billy hargrove #harringroveson #mungrove

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armyhome · 1 year

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Lost In Your Love Story | Yeonjun

⇢ summary: Hwa Suji is a very skilled makeup artist who works at her best friend's salon, serving major Korean entertainment companies and that includes the artists she is a fan of: Tomorrow x Together! One day when protecting one of the members, she ends up having a car accident that takes her to another universe! The universe of your favorite fanfic called "Winter Song" but the thing is, life is not a strawberry, her new universe got a target on her back, she's the villain and has no idea how survive this cannon.

⇢ pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Hwa Suji.

⇢ Chapter 1 : Life is not a strawberry.

⇢ Chapter 2 : Love is a Disease.

⇢ Chapter 3 : Made a little cookie...

⇢ Chapter 4 / 5 / 6

⇢ Chapter 7 : Why Don't You Stay?

⇢Chapter 8: Beyond this universe

⇢ Chapter 09 : I know I love you

⇢ Chapter 10: Lips on You

⇢ Chapter 11: Opening Sequence

⇢ Chapter 12: Sour

⇢Chapter 13: Waiting for a lifetime for you

Chapter [14/16]: Breaking Down

POV Suji

Six months later

I took a deep breath and pressed the play on the camera one more time.

"I decide, to start all this, by telling about myself, and how makeup change my life because this is the main point of my life, I meet my best friend, slash, sister, slash, soulmate, during make attempted on became a chemistry engineer, then we give up on university, mom wasn't happy about it, but once she saw our business working out she accepted, even not being happy with that, but she knew overall thing how makeup helps during my teenagerhood!" I applied foundation on my skin blending with the concealer " I suffered an accident at school, and that fine line crossing my face was huge, today is a little bit smaller, but that's when I fall for makeup because hide this, and kids stop calling me monster, etc…" I start to used contour to make my nouse more elevated "I think people don't know real monsters, that's why they use this word so lightly.." I keep recording my tutorial, and practicing speaking to the camera, is getting easier, but always gives me a big headache, dreams that look like memories battle with reality in my mind. I press the stop once I ended, and take a deep breath.

Since I woke up in that hospital, I had crazy dreams, I was so afraid to tell the doctor that I kept to myself, but sometimes they were so real to me that I mixed them with my real world, even more since Yeonjun and I get closer. So I decided to focus as much as possible on the present, recording things, like my day, my make-up, and my thoughts, I didn't post anything, was just the way I found to canalize all those feelings. So TXT's company thought would be great material to help both sides to tell our side of the history since so much was talked about while we aren't able to defend ourselves.

So I decided to do a makeup tutorial, with all members, but one by one, all with their next comeback concept, something very fairy, with a daydreams vibe, I would show how I work on their skin, which colors I like to use o these concepts, all the details.

"You know, I almost lose my mind while you don't wake up…" Jieun says helping me organize the makeup, I look at her, this was so random "You know, I kept sending you massages, even knowing you wouldn't respond," I hug her "You're my only family Sujiah, you know that right?"

"You're my family too unnie" I kiss her chick "And you have Taehyun too…" The worlds scape through my mouth, and the moment I close my mouth I know I mixed my dream with reality shit!

"How did you discover?" WAIT! WATH? "Or you finally read the new version of that manhwa and…"

"WAIT! YOU…HIM…OH MY GOD!" breath Suji, breath "Did, you guys have conversations in my room, while I was in a comma?" Jieun searched for her memories…"My god, how long have you guys been together?"

"Little bit before your accident, I would tell you, but this chaos happened, and you looked so fragile when you woke up, I decided to wait until you fully recover.." And maybe my dream was based on the conversations around me… I sigh, this was so much better explanation.

"I'm happy about you two, don't worry, but take care to not hurt yourself, he is an idol, and we know how these things work…" Jieun hugs me.

"I'll take care," She looks at her cell phone, "It's time Yeonjun will be here soon" My heart lose a beat for a while "Do you think will be fine if only two of you are here?"

"Yes, there are things that we only feel comfortable saying when are two of us, things that only we understand without judging, and the camera is a lot of pressure already…" I explain.

"Okay, I will be upstairs, anything, just scream okay?" She kisses my forehead and leaves the room.

I sit in front camera to record some introductions, deep breaths, Hwa Suji, you can do this, fighting, one two three.

"Hi, my name is Hwa Suji! Most of you know me because I trow a trash can on a guy," I laugh "I watched your remakes all over social media, you guys are so much cooler than I! Well, I'm here because a lot of things have been said about me, and I just wanna people to know me, through me. Does that make any sense?" I tight my hair "And to not say I'm being biased, I'll bring some people that know me to tell, honestly, who I'm… Wellcome mom" I Open my arms like she was in the room, and laugh again "Just kidding, but I'm really bringing people that worked with me, and I'll do my favorite thing on them, make-up! Hope you guys enjoy…" At the moment someone, probably Yeonjun, "Look, someone is already here let's see who it is?" So I pause the recording.

When I open de door Yeonjun gives me the bright smile he has and hugs me, I would never become used to being his friend, I hug him back.

"How have you been," He asks without letting me go.

"Just much as fine as I was the last time we talk one hour ago" We laugh "How was your training? You're not pushing yourself too hard right?"

"No, I like promised you"

"Okay, let's start before Parallel 38 appears…" He gently puts me against the wall, I can feel his breath so close, a flash of the dreams in my mind.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" The way he looks at me makes me shiver, and my stomach contract. He was playing with me, I roll my eyes.

"I'll throw a trash can on you if you don't step back.."We laugh at the joke we always use with each other "Let's start recording before HYBE sends the ROKU to me"

"Okay, where do I sit?" I point the cair in my mini scenario "Wow! You really put effort into thins!" He sits on the chair I was sitting before, and I start recording again.

"And our guest today is the amazing, the only one, my best buddy in the afterlife, Choi Yeonjun!" We clap together "You wanna say something Jun?" He looks into my eyes, sometimes I feel he is looking for someone inside me, I don't know how to explain it.

"Hi, I'm Yeonjun of TXT" He browns "First, one more time I wanna apologize to make my love, moas worried! Is really nice to be here, alive with my dearest friend, the best make-up artist on this planet, Hwa Suji! Moa doesn't need to worry about my safety while I'm with noona, cause they know you throw a trash can power!"

"Okay, no more trash can jokes, is enough, let's start work, Jun today has a photo shoot for TXT's next album, and I think moas will love the whole concept" I start to tight his hair and moisturize his skin "Now beyond do makeup we're here to tell about our history, during this chaos…How do you feel when you wake up?"

"Was like wake up from a long dream…" He simply says " And you noona?" I start to apply the primer.

"The last thing I remember was the car, it feels like we were flying, trying to hold your hand, and then I was in the hospital, The first thing I feel was worry, because that guy, I was afraid that while I was unconscious he was able to do something with you…" I touch his chin to move his face and verify if I fully cover his skin.

"That's so you, worry more about others than yourself…" I show the primer on the camera, all the products were from labels that TXT's members were the face of the label.

"This prime gives you so much glow, you all will be so perfect for this comeback, how are you feeling about seeing Moas again?" Yeonjun put his right hand on the left side of his chest.

"So excited, I miss them so much!" I start to draw his eyebrows.

"I know they're feeling the same, now can you give they a little spoiler?" I ask starting to softly apply concealer on specific spots.

"Will be really sweet, a lot of Sugar involved!" I start to apply foundation on this skin "Now, my turn, your favorite manhwa will become a k-drama, are you excited?"

"Well a little bit, I heard the author change a feel thing, I didn't have time to read yet because of work, but I'll real soon as possible, L.M. Andrade is my favorite author, so I will definitely read it, maybe I will do a live reading, I don't know…" I start the work on his eyes "Did you read?"

"Yes," He looks up automatically so I could apply the eyeliner "I like this so much more this version than the previous one" I start to use blush Yeonjun look right into my eyes and I end up applying too much.

"Don't move" I turn to pick the tissue to remove, and once I turn to Yeonjun is like someone scratched my mind, the left eye of Yeonjun is full of tears, and the other is worried "You can hold a little bit Jun, I know that," I say without knowing why I was saying that, so I use the tissue to remove the blush "See, you made it, now your lips," I apply the lip gloss, focus as much as possible "It's done!" I show Yeonjun's face to the camera "Hope you guys enjoy it. See you next time" I just press pause on the camera before I fall, I feel Yeonjun's arms around me.

"Noona.." The darkness swallows me, and this time I'm completely alone.

#txt fanfic #yeonjun imagines #txt #choi yeonjun #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun fic #yeonjun #choi soobin #soobin #choi beomgyu #kang taehyun #hueningkai

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5sosfanfictioncatalogue · 1 year

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Christmas Angst Masterlist

All the hues of blue (ao3) - FalseDevotion calum/ashton E, 172k

Summary:

“My favourite is Blue Christmas.” Calum said quietly, eyes trained on the box, apparently fascinated by the array of Christmas decorations inside it. “Isn’t that song kind of sad?” “Isn’t 'kind of sad’ the definition of Christmas?”

Sometimes a casual encounter can help you see everything in a different colour.

Apricity - @ashtcnirwin (elivigar) michael/ashton T, 23k

Summary: In which Ashton and Michael miss their flight home for the holidays and are forced to spend Christmas together.

don't cry, i know you're trying your hardest (ao3) - ashtonsbabygurl michael/calum G, 843

Summary: It's Christmas and Calum is sad because he couldn't give Michael what really he wanted.

if we make it through december (ao3) - allsassnoclass (brightblackholes) luke/ashton

Summary: “I didn’t tell them,” he blurts. Ashton falls silent on the other end of the line. “My family. I didn’t tell them about the breakup. And I know that I should’ve and I swear I will, but Gram asked about you today and it’s probably her last Christmas with us and you know how much she loves you. I couldn’t do it. It’d break her heart, and I can’t do that to her. Not right now. So if you-- I mean. What I’m trying to say is that you’re still invited to Christmas, if you want. You don’t have to, I can make an excuse for you, and I swear I’ll tell them after the holidays, but I thought maybe… maybe you’d want to see them one last time.”

In Your Sweet December Haze (ao3) - fourdrunksluts calum/ashton N/R, 19k

Summary: It’s been years since Ashton’s last seen his best friend's dorky little brother, Calum, but when their families decide to get together for their first shared Christmas since they were all kids, it’s more than just the holiday spirit that pulls Ashton in.

It's Too Cold Outside For Angels To Fly (ao3) - lukey_irwie luke/ashton T, 66k

Summary: Ashton Irwin is a volunteer at a homeless shelter in London. On a snowy November night he helps his step father find people to take to the shelter and ends up finding this boy named Luke. Ashton thinks Luke is gorgeous and slowly falls for the younger boy but he knows he can't do anything about it. First off, it's against the rules, secondly, Luke has been through a lot and a boyfriend is probably the last thing he's looking for, third, Luke probably doesn't even like Ashton back and fourth, Ashton is kind of still recovering from a previous relationship. But what if Luke does like Ashton back, will Ashton admit his feelings or continue to push them aside?

Or the one where Luke is homeless and shaken by his past and Ashton is the human embodiment of an Angel who rescues him. Luke starts falling for Ashton despite knowing Ashton would never love someone as worthless him.

Also the one where everyone can see Ashton and Luke like each other, except for Ashton and Luke of course.

Lullaby (ao3) - thesaltyspice calum/ashton, background luke/sierra N/R, 5k

Summary: “Yeah it is, I found a radio show last night actually, did you know the university has a radio show?” Ashton asks. Luke shrugs and Ashton continues, “Anyway, the show is called Nyx’s Lullaby and the host is just….” Ashton’s voice trails off as Luke groans.

“You’re in love with a stranger again, aren’t you?” Ashton’s face turns bright red, spluttering.

“No I am not! He just has a very nice voice,” Ashton mumbles, “and his whole show seems really interesting, it actually helped me get to sleep last night.”

Calum hosts an anonymous radio show and Ashton is obsessed

Meet Me Under the Mistletoe (ao3) - allsassnoclass (brightblackholes) michael/ashton, background luke/calum T, 15k

Summary: Michael has been letting everyone at the office believe he has a boyfriend for the past few months. Things become complicated when they ask to meet his boyfriend at the company winter party.

Of The Second of December and Claustrophobia (ao3) - orphan_account luke/ashton T, 2k

Summary: Michael takes the four of them Christmas decoration shopping: it doesn't go well for Ashton. Luke is there though so it's alright.

There Must Have Been Some Magic (ao3) - Maluminspace michael/ashton G, 4k

Summary: Back in the summer, Ashton had been sure that Michael had no flaws at all. He was kind, sweet, funny, gentle and cuter than any other guy Ashton had ever laid eyes on. However, when Michael had started decorating his desk with tinsel and other festive crap, in mid November - Ashton had realised that no one, not even the pretty angel that sits at the desk by the window, with the dazzling smile, was perfect.

It was only when Ashton had realised that Michael’s enthusiasm for Christmas was the thing he considered a huge negative personality trait, that the older man realised just how much of a Scrooge he really was.

Ashton is the office Grinch and Michael maybe a little too enthusiastic about Christmas.

This December - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) luke/ashton T, 21k

Summary: “I’m gonna stay here,” Luke returns pathetically, “by myself. I’m gonna be alone for fucking Christmas.”

“Well you won’t be alone alone,” Calum replies. When Luke looks up, confused, he nods his head to the side to where Ashton is setting his bag down and pulling out a chair. “Ashton’ll be here.”

Or, the one where Ashton and Luke are stuck together for the holidays, Ashton hates Christmas, and Luke is trying to make him fall in love.

you could call me babe for the weekend (ao3) - tutorgirl ashton/everyone

Summary: when luke bails on ashton for a series of romantic christmas dates that he has planned, michael joins him instead.

or 12 days of christmas.

#5sosfanfictioncatalogue #angst #christmas #christmas masterlist #masterlists #holiday

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allthewritem0ves · 2 years

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Green Eggs and Ham: Extra Bit(e)s - Michellee

Part 4 of the Extra Bit(e)s series

Two Souls

(takes place before season 1)

For her whole life, Michellee Weebie was a sheltered kid. Not that she wanted to be, it’s just that her own mother was a devout Catholic and was very strict. It was like this for eighteen years until Michellee went to college. While she was there she majored in art, minored in number crunching, and even went vegan for the first time.

Then she met Peter Paesano. One day, on Michellee’s winter break in her senior year, when she and her roommate vacationed at a ski lodge, she saw him effortlessly weave around trees like a mouse running through a maze on its tenth attempt; to put it simply, he was a pro.

Gia, Michellee’s roommate, saw her grinning like an idiot and said, “You like him, don’t you?”

“What?” Michellee scoffs and says, “No…” She was chuckling because she knew that she was lying.

“Please, I know you do. Why don’t you talk to him?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s…you know? A pro and I didn’t even know how to ski until you showed me. I’d just embarrass myself in front of him.”

“He probably doesn’t care about that. You never know until you try.”

Michellee thought about what Gia had just said. Then she prepared herself to ski down the slope. Just as she pushed off, however, her foot slipped out of her right ski and she began to panic. This caused her to fall over and roll down the hill. She even got caught up in a giant snowball, which broke apart when it hit a tree.

Someone came running up to her. “Miss, are you ok?”, they asked.

Michellee looked up at who asked and saw that it was Peter Paesano. Her jaw dropped and she made a small, barely audible gasp. “Oh, I think so.” She tried to stand up, but felt a stab of pain in her leg.

“Hold on, let me see it.” Peter then examined her leg. Michellee spared a glance and noticed her tibia was bent at an odd angle. She didn’t know if she wanted to scream or faint.

Just then, Gia came down on the ski lift and ran over to her roommate. “Michellee! Are you okay?”

“No.” She was gritting her teeth and holding back tears.

“Don’t worry, miss”, Peter said. “I’ll help get you to the hospital.” He turned to Gia and asked, “Could you please give me a hand?”

“No problem.”

——

What a way to end winter break.

For six weeks, Michellee had to wear a cast, which of course meant that she and Gia had to end their trip early. But, while at the hospital, she did secure the opportunity to talk to Peter. Apparently, he was such a good skier because he delivers mail to a neighborhood of walruses, once every day (and on Saturday’s, twice).

But as the weeks turned to months (with a successful healing process), Michellee found that she and Peter had a lot in common. Even though he was a postman, he did painting in his spare time, some of his completed works he happily showed her.

——

But that summer, Michellee’s life changed forever.

This was when she became pregnant with E.B. That, combined with having her first piece put up in the Wall of Halls in Meepville, where she and Peter were living together, she felt like her happiness had no bounds.

That’s when things went south.

Michellee received a call from a doctor telling her that, while he was out doing his deliveries, he had fallen into some thin ice and when he was recovered, he was beyond help. After the call, Michellee felt like the floor was yanked from under her. She slid down the wall, crying and holding her baby bump. Her daughter would grow up not knowing her father. Michellee couldn’t think of anyone else to turn to; she hasn’t talked to Gia after they had a falling out and her mother wouldn’t approve of the fact that she became pregnant without getting married first.

So, Michellee decided to move to Glurfsburg, a safe little town where nothing happens. That’s where she gave birth to E.B., short for Elanabeth. She had the same red hair and fiery tinge to her fur as her father did. Still, Michellee loved her daughter dearly. Still, she couldn’t deny the fact that she was overprotective of her.

Before the War

(takes place immediately before season 2)

Now that Guy, Sam, and E.B. were headed out to East Flubria for another adventure, Michellee had the house to herself for a good while. When she told Guy, “Be careful with my baby”, of course she was referring to E.B., but she was also subtly letting him know that she’s pregnant.

——

It was four days ago when they came back home from their honeymoon when she found out.

“Mom! Guy! You’re home!” E.B. hugged the both of them as they walked through the front door.

“Are you two a sight for sore eyes!”, said Sam as he came in from the kitchen. He joined in the group hug.

“Okay, you two, let us go, we’ve only just gotten back”, said Michellee, although she was happy to see them.

“Wait, I wanna show all of you something”, said E.B. She then ran upstairs to her bedroom and came back with a large rolled up piece of paper.

“What’s that?”, Guy inquiried.

E.B. then unrolled the paper and showed the painting she did in her spare time. It was of the four of them under a night sky that a full moon and numerous stars. On the ground, Guy and Michellee were facing each other and holding an orchid in their hands, with Sam and E.B. watching from the sides.

The other three were awestruck at what was shown to them. Michellee was the first one to speak up.

“You did this?”, she asked.

“Yep.”

Michellee puts her bags down and hugs her daughter again.

Sam then asked, “When did you work on that? I don’t remember you saying that you were painting anything.”

“Oh, I did it in secret. I wanted to surprise everyone with it.”

“Well I think it looks beautiful, E.B.”, Guy complimented.

E.B. blushed and said, “Thank you.”

“Truly one of the greatest”, Sam said with a smile.

“Thanks, Sam, but, to be honest, Mom does the best paintings.”

“Don’t be so modest, sweetie. Yours looks incredible!”, Michellee told her.

——

Later that day, they were all having dinner and Sam was discussing his plan to look for his mother in East Flubria.

“It’s been two years already. I don’t want the trail to go cold any longer”, he said.

“Believe me, Sam”, Guy said. “I really do want to help you find her. It’s just that we can’t suddenly drop everything all at once and go for it, at least not until we’re absolutely sure.”

“By ‘we’, you mean ‘you’, don’t you?”, Sam asked.

Guy drew a breath between his teeth. “It’s nothing personal, it’s just I have a family to care about now and my Inventionarium‘s grand opening is in two days and I have to be sure nothing goes wrong there.”

“Like, the whole place blowing up or something?”

“Exactly.”

“For what it’s worth, I’ll help you look for her, Sam”, E.B. rang out.

“Not so fast, young lady”, Michellee says at once.

“Mom. I thought you’d loosen up a little.”

“Yes, I have, but I’m still your mother and it’s my job to keep you safe.”

“Maybe I should’ve been clearer, but I meant that help as long as Guy was going too.”

“But that’s just it, E.B. We don’t when we’re gonna go”, Guy says.

Michellee then felt a sudden feeling of sickness come over her. She got up, holding her hand over her mouth and groaning.

“Honey, are you okay?”, Guy asked with worry in his voice.

“Just give me a second.” Then she ran to the bathroom. Once there, she vomits in the toilet.

Does that mean what I think it means?, she asks herself. She looks down at her belly and smiles warmly.

——

The next day, everyone had something to do. Guy was at the Inventionarium overlooking final touches before the grand opening and E.B. tagged along with him. Sam went back to his trailer to “make his own preparations” or so he claimed.

On her own, Michellee made a run to the convenience store and bought a bunch of pregnancy tests. Back home, she tried them all out. Ten tests in all, and all were positive. Since she was by herself, Michellee makes a scream of excitement. She couldn’t be happier that she was pregnant again. Although she was certainly excited, she decided to wait until the time was right before letting everyone know about it…

A Day With Junior

(takes place after season 2)

One of the things that matters most to Michellee is family. And she had a very big and loving family indeed. Her daughter E.B., husband Guy, and husband’s friend (which makes him family in her book) Sam, and his mother Pam, brought the Great Butter Battle to an end and that very same day, she gave birth to her son, Guy Jr. What’s more, with some Goo-Lacka-Goo from Pam, Guy’s inventions finally stopped exploding. Nearly three months have passed since that fateful day, so pretty soon, E.B. will be turning thirteen. In the meantime, however, Michellee was given a day all to herself and Junior.

Since Junior wasn’t able to walk yet, Michellee carried him around in a baby carrier over her chest. She looked around as some people flew overhead wearing Self-Flyers. They waved at Michellee from above. Junior was reaching up, apparently wanting to fly himself.

“Don’t worry, son. You’ll fly someday”, she told him.

Michellee had walked all the way to Donna’s Diner, and who else would be there other than Sam himself, sitting at a booth with Pam.

“Michellee! Hey!”, Sam exclaimed, waving happily to her.

She approached and said, “Good afternoon, Sam. You as well, Pam.”

“Afternoon, Michellee”, Pam says back. “Hey, Junior”, she says in a sing-song voice and waves to him.

“Aww, look who’s out today”, Sam said. “Are you here to see your Uncle Sam?”

“We were just stopping for a bite to eat. You guys okay with us joining you?”

“Sure”, Pam said. She got up and grabbed a high chair for Junior to sit in and Michellee took the spot next to Pam closest to Junior to assist him when he’s eating.

As usual, Sam ordered green eggs and ham. Pam did too. Michellee ordered the vegan version of it and Junior just ate a jar of baby food, which he got all over his face.

“So, what’s new?”, Pam asks Michellee.

“Nothing much. Guy’s Inventorium is a big hit, especially with the Self-Flyers.” Just as she said that, a boy of about fifteen flew past the window, waving to everyone inside the diner. Junior made a happy coo as he reached his arms forward.

“Do you like your daddy’s inventions, Junior?”, Sam asks in another sing-song voice.

“He sure does”, said Michellee. “He can’t wait until he’s big enough to use one of those things.”

“What about E.B.?”, Pam asks.

“Oh, she’s still in a long distance relationship with Looka. They talk on the phone for hours.”

“Aww, that’s so cute”, Sam says, softly shaking his fists.

“You know, Guy and I were considering bringing him out here for E.B.‘s birthday in a few weeks”, Michellee points out.

“E.B. has a birthday coming up?”, Pam asks.

“Yep. My little girl’s turning thirteen. Can you believe it?”

Pam shook her head. “I can’t. Are you guys throwing a party for her?”

“Yes. Not only are we considering inviting Looka, but also Guy’s family. So, yeah, the house will be pretty packed.”

“And we can come too, right?”, Sam asks with a big smile.

“Of course you can come. You two are family, too.”

“Thanks, Michellee”, said Pam.

“Oh, it’s no big deal. Anything to make my kids happy.” She turns to her baby and says in a teasing tone, “Isn’t that right, Junior?” She allows him to hold her index finger and he laughs.

#green eggs and ham #michellee #oc #guy am i #sam i am #pam i am #eb #guy jr #fanfic

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tteokdoroki · 2 years

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he’s like snowfall | s.todoroki ʚ !! ɞ

❧ ; SYNOPSIS. the idol group XHEROEZ is due to perform in america for the first time and as their beloved makeup artist— you’re expected to go with them. now... this would be the vacation of a life time, if it weren’t for their a-grade asshole vocalist, shouto todoroki.

❧ ; cpu characters. shouto todoroki x gn!reader.

❧ ; word count. 17.4K

❧ ; genre + rating. kpop idol!au, enemies to lovers!au, angst, fluff, smut, 18+, minors do not interact !!

❧ ; game warnings. - proceed with caution !! characters are in their twenties, todoroki being an asshole, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, handjobs, praise!kink, mentions of injury ( broken leg ), snow storms, being snowed in.

❧ ; streamer commentary. merry belated christmas? i hope you guys enjoy this fic, for me it was a little challenge to write since i dont write for shouto much!! but the plot was super cool to work with. this is a winter wonderland gift from emme’s server for @killerdabi !! <3 m.list. + tip jar. special thanks to @prinvil, @jirou-s + @bakugous-trauma for beta reading !! and to @shiggysvixen-archive for the idol group name <3

people always dream of being remembered for something when they die.

as shallow as it is, humans have an innate craving and desire to be remembered— to live their lives and go down in history for the impossible. whether that’s by breaking records or achieving the unattainable, humans crave recognition, humans crave a life that seems worth living to others.

like most people, you started out with a dream too— you wanted to dance, to sing on stage under twinkling lights and along with the harmonies of thousands of voices paired with your own. being an idol is all you’d ever thought of growing up and you did everything in your power to achieve that dream— you busted your ass throughout middle school and high school, saved up enough money to pay for your trainee days and to travel into the city every day for auditions and practice. even moving cities didn’t stop you, having to start all over again, but by fifteen, you’d signed up to a decent idol agency, worked hard on perfecting your vocals and dancing until you were sure you sounded like an angel from high heavens and you moved as fluid as the water rushing through streams and everything looked like it was going your way.

your debut was coming up on the horizon, the flavour of your chance to make your mark on the world just dashing across the tip of your tongue— the stage was so close, your purpose in life even closer and you could almost touch it.

at least until you couldn’t.

an injury to your right leg takes you out just weeks before your debut, the healing time far longer than your first ever performance scheduled for the big stage. the group you’d been preparing to be a part of to introduce themselves to the world while you recovered back in your hometown, blankets mounted high to block out your tears at night. you’re left dreamless and hopeless, unable to stand on your own two feet from then on— both physically and mentally. what good is a person who can’t support themselves? what life is worth living when you shoot for the stars and miss, crashing right back down to earth? the questions plague you every night, burn in your throat while you fight back tears and the urge to howl your pain at the silver moon.

however, the second company you’d started under after moving was severely understaffed and lacked organisation and maybe this was the universe giving you a second chance to grasp at your dreams. you helped where you could, using your natural and honed talent for dancing to help choreograph routines between attempting to do stage makeup on the trainees and other artists using tips from old fashion magazines you read on the trains home. if you couldn’t be on stage, then you’d damn well be right there beside it. when your injury gives out a year later and you can no longer keep up with the idols in dance, the stars are forgiving and the agency keeps you on as a makeup artist until you can have your surgery. while you don’t mind your job, prettying artists at the agency you had helped build from the ground— it's nowhere near where you want to be, there’s no glitz nor glamour, no millions of fans waiting to hear the part of your lips and a soulful tune reverberating in your throat...not as a makeup artist.

no one will remember you and your dedication from behind the stage curtain.

but if you could help others achieve their goals and dreams where you had failed, then so be it. you would push twice as hard, work even more just for them to break through earth’s barrier and float in the comfort of space and become one of its shining stars. that’s how you ended up working for the idol group, XHEROEZ— the underdogs of the idol industry and your little old company’s pride and joy. the members; kirishima, bakugou, deku and todoroki had debuted almost five years ago and found themselves on a quick rise to fame after their second mini album blew up the global music scene. never in history had anyone seen an idol group break down so many walls and gather so many records under their belt in such a short amount of time.

with world wide success, came many trials and tribulations that the group faced— but they had done well under countless years of pressure and hate, the company was so incredibly proud of them and you too believed that they would continue to do well for many years to come.

working closely with the boys since they performed for the world for the first time, you’d grown increasingly fond of them as the years went by— you’d met katsuki bakugou, the leader and main rapper of XHEROEZ, during your trainee days back in middle school, remembering him as the kid who worked hard and performed even harder during your trainee evaluations. he’d done so well for himself… not only become an idol but to lead one the world’s most famous boybands too, it was nice to see a friend succeed in that way too. you’d also trained with izuku midoriya, the main vocalist and visual too, he was as sweet as can be— in both his vocals even more so towards his staff and fans alike, you couldn’t help but love him. then there was eijirou kirishima, another rapper with the most incredible dance skills you’d ever seen. there were two more members just like him, a chaotic trio consisting of the red head, hanta sero and denki kaminari— both great dancers occupying the sub-vocalist and rapper spots. they were a group of wonderful boys who never made you feel bad for failing to reach past dreaming and push past the pain to get right up there on the stage. they were the closest thing you ever had to friends, working in the industry from such an early age you gave up most of your time for friends and being a kid.

you loved them so much, all of them.

but then there was shouto todoroki.

you could shiver at the mention of his name, a cringeworthy type of feeling running laps up and down the base of your spine every time you think about him, let alone breathe next to him. in your mind, shouto todoroki is the most insufferable person that you’ve ever worked with, taking the position of centre in XHEROEZ. you know that it's wrong to barely have a reason to hate someone, but there’s something about the dual haired idol that leaves you unsettled every time that you interact— he’s a nuisance to you but the perfect idol and performer to everyone else, he’s oh so talented at what he does, never makes mistakes, appeals to his fans with his quiet charms and angelic looks, suits every concept ever made so maybe you’re projecting a little…maybe you only hate him because he’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of being…but beyond the stage, behind the curtains— you’re convinced that he’s nothing more than a lazy and privileged celebrity.

you feel that he takes the idol life for granted, todoroki lacks motivation where his group-mates excel— you don’t even know why he’s doing this, living your life so selfishly and you hate it.

you hate him.

but it’s not like these feelings aren’t reciprocated, shouto’s made it clear to you that he doesn’t like you either, especially with the way he treats you compared to other staff—maybe that’s because you don’t walk on eggshells around him and cater to his skittish, bratty moods by treating him like a god in the way that everyone else does.

“you mind doin’ your job ‘n not diggin’ out my eye with that liner?” bakugou grunts from beneath your steady working hands—effectively pulling you from the depth of your thoughts and getting you to jump right back into the task at hand, fixing the blonde’s eyeliner.

rolling your eyes playfully, you pull back gently on the skin at the corner of katsuki’s own to draw a steady flick of black liner, humming in content at how it compliments the bloody and burgundy smokey shadow you’d done on him earlier. the boys’ most recent comeback had more of a sexy concept to it, so you were often doing darker, more sleek looks for their stage performances, like the music bank one they had scheduled for today. “there y’go, dummy,” you say, barely hiding the smirk on your lips as you flick katsuki’s forehead— exposed by the clip that keeps his hair out of his face so you can work. you pass the leader a hand mirror, letting him accept your work. “that better, pretty boy?”

the blonde idol grunts again but sneers gratefully at your handy-work on his eye-makeup. “shut the fuck up,” you’re close with bakugou, izuku too— having grown up together at your previous agencies, you were comfortable enough to joke like this with one another and you found that treating the boys as your own friends helped them relax before a show. “this liner better stay put on stage.”

“foul language and doubting my skill? who knew idols could be this mean, you sure you’re in the right profession, katsuki?” you taunt back, making the performer close his eyes so you can powder him up and set down his make-up. you can tell by the quirk of his lips that he’s going to reply but a voice you hate that you had grown to recognise cuts through the backstage bustle of the dressing room.

“sorry i’m late everyone,”

and in he comes, the devil himself in the form of shouto todoroki. your eyes flit upwards as you take in his appearance— his lean body that could be mistaken for that of a dancer’s, draped in casual sweats while his hair remains ruffled and his face is slightly puffy from sleep. todoroki looks a mess, arriving late for his schedule too— which only creates more work for the members and staff around him.

“is that the half ‘n half bastard?”

bakugou all but yells, face twisted into such a comical way that between hushed giggles, you almost forget to remind him to relax so that he doesn’t ruin the makeup you’d done for him. “will you ever stop callin’ him that, man? it was funny the first few comebacks but now it’s just getting old,” kirishima speaks next, keeping his tone airy and playful as he approaches you and his hot tempered band mate. throughout the group’s history, shouto had been recognised as the member with a split dye job and katsuki’s nickname for him seemed to stick. slinking up to bakugou, who’s pouting in his chair, eijirou crosses his toned arms over the armrest. you can tell he’s just come over from hair, since there’s a curler in the red-head’s bangs and his luscious locks— so adored by his many fans— have yet to be gelled and styled into place. “and keep it down, midoriya fell asleep in the stylist chair again,”

“todoroki’s still a bastard, even without his stupid half ‘n half hair. that idiot can never keep to the fuckin schedule!” bakugou scolds just loud enough for his other member to hear, todoroki rolling his eyes as he passes by you to check in with another stylist. you don’t miss the way he glares at you too, making you scoff and find distraction in touching up bakugou’s slight lip colour.

“whatever you say, bakugou,” kirishima hums at his leader’s words but easily distracts himself from the tension between his two members by watching you gently pat some glitter into the inner corner of bakugou’s eye for the finishing touch of his stage makeup. “oh wow! you think i could get a look like that for this stage, yn? y’always do such a great job!”

katsuki is quick to jump in. “trust me, y’don’t want them doin’ your makeup, they almost jabbed my fuckin’ eye out.”

pinching his ear with one hand and smiling gently, you point your brush in kirishima’s direction and shake your head. “next time eiji, i’m sure mina will do a great job on your make-up today,” you remind him softly, holding your smile until the rapper is called to his chair for the rest of his styling. you slump after that, poking a resting katsuki in the cheek with the same brush, pouting at him.

“what?” he spits, eyes still closed.

“i don’t wanna be done with your makeup” you whinge, poking the leader of the group again. “i don’t want them to make me work on todoroki next,”

bakugou cracks an eye open, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his lips— annoyance written across the rest of his face since you’re disturbing his only rest before the performance. “you still have kaminari and sero t’work on. good luck with that,” he offers up to you, but you’re not sure if you want to work with that chaotic duo either...they never sit still long enough for you to finish their looks. “dunno why y’hate half ‘n half so much either. he’s not a bad kid, he’s just got a bad fuckin’ attitude and a weird way of approaching things sometimes.”

mouth opening and closing, you don’t bother to argue with bakugou anymore— for he’s already leaning back in his chair to get some shut eye before the show. you hate that he’s right, that he makes you see how illogical it is for you to hold such a grudge against shouto todoroki...but you can’t seem to help it, a burning rage simmering underneath your skin every time the red and white haired male so much as breathes near you. you don’t dwell on the thought however, your magic hands and work was needed elsewhere, so you drift off deeper into the dressing room to try and pin down sero and kaminari for their stage makeup.

about five minutes before the stage, the CEO of your company, fierce wings entertainment — keigo takami, otherwise known as hawks, swings by the boys’ dressing room for a last minute pep talk. all six of the artists you work for gather in a circle around their boss, energy flowing and hearts racing at the thought of being able to sing their hearts out on stage for their fans. “try not to overwork yourselves on stage today, kids,” hawks starts sternly, looking each of the boys in their eye. “we’re jettin’ off to the states for biggest show of your lives tomorrow. the jingle ball. so imma need all of you in tip top shape!”

“yes sir!”

keigo grips the boys by their shoulders, shaking them a little more to emphasise his point. “it doesn’t matter if you don’t bank a music show win today, we’re onto bigger and better things right now.”

“we’ll still aim for a top spot, we didn’t work this hard for nothin’!” sero quips proudly, and denki throws a thumbs up into the circle in agreement.

deku nods too, seemingly shaking the sleep out of his eyes to psych himself up too. “we’ll try our best hawks-san! we won’t let you down!”

the energy is flowing, excitement trickling into the idol group and you stand on the sidelines— wishing so badly be a part of something like this too. kirishima puts his closed fist into the circle for a fist bump, boosting all of XHEROEZ’s morale for the show. “we got this guys, just remember,” he winks, showing off his toothy smile. “we can’t lose as much energy as todoroki, not when he doesn’t have any to begin with!”

the quick roast to todoroki is harmless and seems to send the group into a frenzy of happy and nerve calming laughter— just what they needed, although you don’t miss the way todoroki himself scoffs as the boys do their best not to ruffle his perfectly crimped hair. with a quick thanks from hawks and a congratulations for their hard work, XHEROEZ is ushered onto a stage with an audience of screaming fans waiting to hear their newest title track.

you watch them effortlessly perform their choreo and carry their vocals over the monitor in the dressing room, swallowing to keep the green eyed monster of jealously down in the pits of your stomach. that should be you, you should be up there on stage with hundreds of people screaming your name but instead, you’re here with a stupid broken body that won’t move the way it used to and a broken heart that just isn’t in your dreams anymore.

the boys are all perfect, moving in harmony and your heart jumps as todoroki takes over the screen, heavenly voice dancing through the speakers and taking you right to heaven. you hate that he’s so perfect, so flawless without even having gone to rehearsals. you hate him, you hate him, you—!

“you’re still up to the challenge in the states, right?” hawks interrupts your self-destructive and chaotic train of thoughts, a hand on your shoulder as he comes to join you watch the performance. “america is a whole new playing field for these boys, it’ll be nothing morning like back home.”

keeping your eyes on the monitor, you nod, not wavered by the blonde’s words. “yeah i am,” your voice doesn’t waver, but your face twists when todoroki appears on screen again. “i hope you’re not doubting me, keigo, sir.”

he chuckles in response. “no, never,” he’s not looking at you, but you can tell that keigo is amused. out of every artist and member of staff at fast wings entertainment— you had been with the company the longest and had shown your loyalty to him through the highest of highs and lowest of lows. he understood you, understood how you struggled when you couldn’t debut due to your injury and how it was to sit on the sidelines and watch everything you’ve ever planned for yourself be lived out by someone else. “i’m glad you stayed on with us...even after your injury. i really appreciate everything you’ve done for this company and for these boys. they’d both be nothing without you.”

your leg throbs at the mention of your injury but when you spare a glance at hawks, his head is tipped back and eyes are closed with his infectious grin. “yanno, shouto kinda reminds me of you in some ways. especially as a trainee,” hawks says quietly, patting your shoulder again. “he’s a perfectionist, don’t ya know?”

hawks leaves you then for an incoming phone call, something about the flights for tomorrow and you scoff to yourself, finding the fact hard to believe.

you and shouto todoroki were nothing alike.

how could you be? when his idol group was bringing back a sixth award for their comeback while you were just their lowly makeup artist.

you do rise to the challenge hawks had set for you, but almost thirty minutes late.

hitting snooze on your alarm at the start of one of the biggest weeks of your career had almost cost you a flight from japan to the US to help the boys perform at jingle bell— and now after a fight with your luggage and an angry phone call to your taxi driver, you were rushing through the airport to meet up with the rest of the team taking XHEROEZ abroad to perform. with a text to hawks you’d located the group just outside of a coffee shop, decked out in masks and shades to hide the identities of the idols as they lounge about and wait for their early morning flight.

relieved that you haven’t missed anything, you rush over, tailed by your stupid two-wheel suit case which bumps the back of your sneakers every once in a while. you look down to fix the damn thing when you suddenly collide with a warm wall of flesh— an even warmer, almost scalding liquid seeping through the fabric of your shirt but for some reason you find that you’re moving to apologise first.

“i’m sorry—“ that is until you look up. grey and cerulean eyes bore deep into your own while the green eyed beast of jealousy makes its home in your chest cavity— pressed up against bare bone and your slippery organs as they struggle to let the oxygen rattle through you. “shouto.”

the apologetic tone in your voice falls flat as you realise the dual toned idol was the culprit of bumping into you, dumping his sticky early morning latte loaded with sugar and cream and all sorts of syrups all over you. you see a smirk twist on his lips, just barely indicated by the quirk in the corner of his mouth and it makes you vibrate with a flash of red, in the shade of rage. you hate him.

“watch where you’re going,” todoroki says cool and collected, he utters your name once before bringing his cup to his lips— seemingly having saved half of his drink from ending up on you. “wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

it takes all of your strength and the will to keep your job to stop yourself from knocking out the idol group member. “you should watch it,” comes your malicious snarl, that only serves to fuel the kind of hold todoroki has over you. he stands up, straightening his back as he towers over you and hums with disinterest— as if your little interaction is entertaining him while it serves to piss you off more.

“why? i’m the one with an insured face. you’re the one with a job to do.”

god, that lazy cocky bastard was going to make you lose it.

mimicking his stance, you too straighten your back and puff out your chest a little bit, steeling your eyes as you counter him with your own argument. “well I’d be able to do that job if you weren’t always running late you little—“

“there you two are! we were beginning to think you were late!” your arrival to the scene is noticed by the sweetheart, deku, first and you smile brightly— or as best as you can— while he approaches, watching his own corner of his lips quirk down to a frown when he senses the tension between you and his bandmate. “oh.”

yeah, oh.

todoroki shrugs, seemingly more interested in bothering a tired bakugou than a tired you and fucks off elsewhere, leaving hanta to your rescue. god bless him and the baby wipes he’s being made to hold in his carry on. hawks gives a quick briefing of the days schedule when everyone is finally gathered together, yawns interjecting his fast paced speech as he does so. “there’s gonna be very little time between landing, checking in and sound check so be sure to eat up on the plane. use the company card.” his words only earning groans from the idols and their team.

“but plane food sucks,” kaminari whines, the only way you could tell it was him was from the signature twang in his voice fans seemed to love— for a black baseball cap covers his electric yellow hair. the sub vocalist flings himself over bakugou, amber irises swirling with fake tears as he begs the other blonde to do something about their brutal schedule.

sneering with annoyance, bakugou can’t help but agree. “we gotta find time to eat, boss. denki’s brain won’t last that long.”

“hey!”

“i’ll treat you to room service when we land, team dinner after rehearsals. is that a deal?” the CEO taps his bottom lip, grinning when everyone nods in agreement. “don’t forget, we’ll be vlogging the experience for the XHEROEZ youtube channel. feel free to record whenever you’re ready. cameras are on jirou, okay guys?” another nod from the idols.

all except for todoroki.

you don’t even have to be near him to feel the annoyance radiation’s from his body— hearing it in the scoff he lets out and the way kirishima’s sneakers scuff against the squeaky clean airport floor as he pushes the red head away, the rapper claiming that vlogging could be pretty fun. another way to connect with their fans.

rolling your eyes, you cross your sticky coffee glazed arms. “of course he wouldn’t wanna film,” your cool gaze meets shouto’s from between your fellow coworkers and the idols you work for, he shivers as if he’s gotten frost bite but you don’t break eye contact— elbowing katsuki to deliver the rest of your joke. “he’s too lazy to keep up with his usual schedule,”

the boys let out a chorus of ooo’s, deku swatting you for your words, kirishima pouting with his arms protectively around the aforementioned male while sero and kaminari burst into a fit of laughter— you barely gauge a reaction from their leader, who shakes his head at your antics. you would have taken this a win against your sworn enemy, but hawks quickly brings you all together for your flight leaving at terminal three and the cameras follow— given out to each of the boys and shouto’s on screen personality begins to shine while you make your way through.

you hate that, how easily he switches from being disinterested in his life, his career, to being so alluring— dishing out fan service left and right. it was hard for you to process, how fake his emotions seem towards the very people that let him live out his dreams. todoroki shared the camera with his green haired band mate, filling the device with clips of cute expressions and asking one another about the upcoming trip— which you ignore in favour of accepting your board pass as members of staff hand them out.

“so, who has the pleasure of sitting next to me?” you coo, checking over your plane ticket for your seat number before you tuck it into your passport.

husky laugher echoes in your right ear, hanta rubbing your shoulder warmly. “heh, well about that…” he trails off, barely whispering your name.

you squint. “what about it, hanta?”

the group of performers fall silent, no one wanting to own up to the games they’d played behind your back. “well you see,” eijirou buts in next after a prompt elbow in the ribs, turning to you with his signature sharp toothed smile. “you snore on the plane and…”

“we need to get a lot of rest for this flight…” izuku chimes in next, ever so sweet— his sunspot freckles stamped over the red hue on his cheeks making it hard to stay mad at him as he guides you onto the plane— shielding you from possible crazed fans even though it should be the other way around. as big as they were, private flights weren’t so affordable to the group yet so first class had to do for now, meaning odd encounters like this, even as security staff but in however. “so we…”

“oi dipshit!” seemingly having had enough of the prolonged explanation his band mates are giving you, your long time friend and rapper katsuki throws you an amused chuckle from over his shoulder. you’ll never get over how foul mouthed he is for an idol. “they played rock, paper, scissors t’see who’d sit next t’ya on the plane, ‘cause truth be told no one wants ta! you snore like a bitch.”

you gasp, nose scrunching as denial weaves its way into your voice. “i do not!”

“you do!” the members of XHEROEZ chorus, making you huff and cross your arms.

“you all suck.” comes your petulant retort. well deserved you might add, as it turns out, shouto todoroki had drawn the short end of the stick and you too— for you would both be seat mates for the next eleven and a half hours.

“don’t sleep on me.” the dual haired boy snarls as he throws his carry on into the overhead cabin, taking up the last space on your side. you shoot him a nasty glare, one that could have put him six feet under if only it could kill.

“don’t lose Rock Paper Scissors next time, asshole.”

———

arriving in the states did not go as smoothly as planned, which definitely caused your boss, keigo, some stress.

the fans in america are much more rowdy than those back home— of course all fan bases love the boys equally as much, but there were so many screams and attempts for signatures from the boys had put a little dent in the schedule as security had taken a while to help the team through the uncontrollable waves of people. it takes an extra hour to get through customs, there’s traffic between the airport and the hotel and another swarm as sleek black cars carrying japan’s most treasured idols slip through the main city of NYC to get to their hotel.

the boys, they love the attention, however— getting to greet their fans from another country is surreal and meaningful to them and the smiles never leave their faces all the way through check-in. after that, bags are dumped in rooms and they along with security and their CEO head to madison square garden for a rehearsal and to meet other artists part of the line up for this year. the rest of the staff, makeup artists and stylists, are free to roam the hotel until they get back.

a room in a five star hotel is not a luxury you could afford on your own, even with the salary you earn from working with one of the world’s biggest boy groups— the four digit numbers in your bank account wouldn’t even begin to cover the cost of the high thread count imported sheets that were neatly spread across the bed you would be staying in for the next few nights. you’d never been in a place as pretty as this, just walking through the reception as your jaw locked lower than usual, especially with the high ceilings and crystal chandeliers hanging above your head every ten steps. marble arches up high, accented by potted plants you’ve read help improve air quality, staff members and hotel clerks stop you every once in a while to offer you complimentary drinks and candy and you can’t help but be in awe.

you could never afford a place like this on your own and the very fact almost stings.

fuck it, it does sting.

because if you had made it as an idol, you would have been leading a life like this— where jetting off to new locations to perform and staying in hotels that cost more than your yearly rent for just one night would be the norm for you. you wouldn’t ever take opportunities like this for granted, counting them as blessings. but you’re here, on a job as a makeup artist and this could never just have been the result of your own hard work towards your dream. so instead, you fiddle with the tinsel taped to the underside of the desk at reception as you ask the clerk behind it whether or not the hotel does room service.

you hear him say ‘yes’ under the faint sound of christmas music played on a piano and head back upstairs to your floor, deciding to unwind and relax before your week gets too hectic. getting back to your room, you order a big american cheeseburger and fries to pair, deciding to take a hot shower to wash off the grime from your flight while you wait. the overwhelming scent of coconut milk and orchids do enough to melt the bad feelings from your brain too.

you’re halfway through throwing on a complimentary cotton robe when voices can be heard behind your door and you almost think it’s your room service order already.

“that rehearsal was complete shit,” you hear a familiar gruff voice call through your door— placing it as none other than katsuki bakugou’s, which means the boys must be back by now.

kaminari speaks next, tone mocking and playful. “s’only cause sho couldn’t follow the music, his rhythm was completely off!”

“because someone made me sit next to that god awful makeup artist of ours, i couldn’t concentrate because i barely got any sleep!” his voice seeps into the conversation buzzing between the members of XHEROEZ. it was common knowledge to anyone that neither of you liked each other, the rivalry you had seeming more one-sided on your end more than anything— but the way todoroki speaks about you now is more malicious than anything you’ve ever heard. cruel and uncaring, and it makes your stomach twist to know that he really just doesn’t like you.

the voices agree, sure your snoring is loud— they say— but they don’t think you’re god awful, they like you and that’s okay. it’s okay. at least the other boys like you, right? but todoroki doesn’t stop there, as they get closer, he only seems to grow hotter, angrier as he talks about you— a stark contrast to his cool and collected nature around you usually. “they’re so loud and inconsiderate of their noise, not to mention how they’re always picking a useless fight with me.” shouto might as well be singing his hatred towards you, mean and fervent words sewn together like lyrics to a song.

“don’t you think you’re being a little harsh? they do a lot for us, a little snoring can be ignored right?” god bless eijirou kirishima, for he defends you without a trace of doubt and your heartbeat picks up as you begin to lean against the door, waiting for todoroki to answer. why do you even care for what he has to say about you? you have no idea.

“not in the slightest,” the younger, dual haired idol retorts venomously, as if talking good about you leaves a bad taste in his mouth. they’re all right outside your door now and you can see the weight of someone you assume to be todoroki’s palm resting against your locked door handle— he hasn’t noticed yet and the other idols seem to warn him of that. deku softly reminds him that this isn’t his room, sero too but he’s too wrapped up in bitching about you to care. “what good have they done for me? if anything, my being an idol— us being idols, provided them with a job. not the other way around—!”

todoroki presses down on the handle again and you choose that exact moment to open the door, letting him stumble into your room— his last words being your final straw. your job, be it as it may, not what you wanted to do with your life...was a result of nobody else’s hard work but your own. you were the one that had gotten you this far, you had no help, you did it all on your own and god damn anyone who said your efforts were useless. you were proud of what you had achieved but that didn’t mean it hurt any less to hear someone else say you were practically worth nothing.

so you hoped it hurt shouto todoroki more to come face first with the ground while you towered over him.

the boys gasp, standing crowded around the door with sheepish expressions and apologies ready on the tips of their tongues but they all cease one they realise the force of your rage is directed at their vocalist instead of them.

“fuck,” todoroki says your name, no more than a whisper under his breath while his cool toned eyes gaze up into yours with something you can’t quite place, something that looks like remorse. “how...how much of that did you hear?”

when you gaze down at the idol, you notice the way he speaks to you slowly and the shine of his insured and shiny pink glossed lips as if to distract you with what his fans might like— as if you’re to be swayed by something like that when those same lips utter such poisonous and mean spirited words. you wonder what his fans would think if they heard shouto talk like that.

“you should be more careful with how loud you speak in public hotels like this,” you keep your voice even, don’t let your emotions slip through the cracks, not sadness and certainly not joy when you see todoroki’s bottom lip quiver nervously. “you wouldn’t want to get caught in an idol scandal, would you? you never know who’s listening.”

both todoroki and his band mates are left gobsmacked, perhaps they had been expecting a larger reaction out of you but you choose not to give either the satisfaction— slamming the door shut just within an inch of shouto’s fingers and sliding down the door to catch your breath, soothe your heartache before it starts.

the next time someone appears at your door, you wait for them to call room service before you let them in.

———

“what am i doing here again?”

you yawn, rubbing your eyes as a woollen hat not belonging to you is tugged over your head. bakugou tsks, standing half a head taller than you while he wraps you in a scarf. the other members of XHEROEZ are in similar states, yawning with their noses tucked into the fabric of their clothes to fight off the biting cold running through the new york air.

“is there something on the schedule that i missed? thought today was our day off.”

bakugou sniffs once, satisfied with his work. “s’not on the schedule. the boys and i are taking you out today,” you quirk a brow and he elaborates. “as an apology.”

flickering your stare elsewhere, you try not to think about the little show from last night or the awful words that trickled underneath your hotel room door. “for bitchin’?” the colour in your eyes finds izuku goofing off with todoroki and kaminari for their vlog and you see how seamless their bond is, something you craved for— to be part of a team like this.

“f’bitchin’, was todoroki’s idea.”

the blonde leader doesn’t say much more as the cars arrive and security loads each of the boys into them in groups of three. you end up with katsuki, sero and todoroki and the drive was as awkward as you could probably guess. apparently at the dinner you’d skipped last night, the boys found out from hawks about your failed idol career and how it landed you a job in the same industry that failed to look after you and catapult you towards your dreams, they’d learned that without you hawks’ entertainment company would have nothing but a bad reputation and bankruptcy— you were one of the reasons they were even able to debut along with their senior artists and trainees.

so taking you out for the day, to experience this new city and live the idol life for just a day was their way of showing appreciation and despite it being shouto’s idea, he makes no efforts to actually apologise to you— in fact, he avoids you for the whole day. he separates from the rest of the group when you guys wonder through the art exhibits at the gagosian gallery while you goof off with the others, taking silly videos on the camera’s jirou had assigned them. you felt bad that she’d spend hours scrubbing you out of the footage to make sure you couldn’t be seen or spark any fan-theories on who that person was or were the boys dating? however it was more fun to cause chaos amongst the fanbase.

todoroki does the same when XHEROEZ gets a private session at the ice rink by the rockerfeller centre— shut down to the public only because of the weight of their fame and their dazzling smiles. kirishima’s shaky grip on the camera showcases the atrocious figure skating skills of his band mates, midoriya stumbles a little too much on the picks of his skates— stabilised by your arm while katsuki glides right across the ice as if he was born to. he could be a skater in his next life, hanta too but they both twirl a little too much and end up on their butts once they collide. kaminari chokes on his laughter and shouto missed out yet again.

in fact the only time you do bump into the dual haired idol is on your way out of the bathroom— a smile spread wide across your frost tinted cheeks because this is the most fun you’ve had in such a long time, not having to worry about the doubt on your mind...but then.

then seeing him, seeing shouto and his blank face, the lack of remorse or feeling in his cerulean and cloudy grey eyes brings it all back. how cold he acts towards you brings your walls back up and your happiness back down and even though this is his way of apologising, you don’t really feel that much better at all.

his words from the night before ringing in your head.

‘that god awful makeup artist of ours,’

'what good have they done for me?’

blinking, you don’t even realise how much time has passed and how long you’ve been focused on todoroki’s words for— frowning at yourself for focusing on him on the day that’s supposed to be about you. yourself, XHEROEZ and their security huddle around each other, in line for your first taste of american street food from a polite vendor— you let sero place an order for you, while you keep your gaze set on the landscape of New York City. the snow here is different to that of japan, it’s heavy and thick. rough as it falls and bites at your nose and cheek, coating cars and sky scrapers alike and drowning it in freezing white blankets. looking up to the sky you see nothing but familiar shades of deep grey for miles, it’s almost claustrophobic how much snow there is— like you’re trapped in a snow globe being turned upside down, shaking you from your comfort and throwing your emotions about the place.

beyond the puffs of your warm breath into the sub-freezing air, you notice a group of girls peering curiously at your group as they debate on the toppings to go on their hot dogs from the vendor. you smile, jutting your elbow into the puffy torso of midoriya ( layered up in some designer jacket you have no doubt bakugou told him to wear ). “you’ve got fans deku,” you say wistfully.

“hm? oh—oh!” the poor green haired bab almost drops his heated treat when he whips over to look at you.

“you should go say hi, it would make their day,” shrugging as you suggest it, deku looks down to you with a small frown, sauce on his freckled upper lip. “what?”

curls bounce as he shakes his head, littered with snowflake crystals. “n-nothing! it’s just that...if i go say hi, the others will want to as well, and then you’ll be left alone. with todoroki no doubt...he’s not one for these kinds things…”

ah. there it is.

“go say hi izuku, i can manage grumpy vocalist number two for a while.” you assure him, but it doesn’t seem to work and by now his band mates have noticed the shy group of fans a little further down the sidewalk.

“h-he’s not that bad yanno, not as bad as you think,” deku nudges the arm of your jacket just as todoroki approaches you both— leaving you alone with him and the snow to go make his fans’ day, their Christmas no doubt.

then there’s silence, an odd sense of New York City quiet— accompanied by people barking down the phone to colleagues and the honk of city traffic, a soundtrack to the city you reside in for a few days. one that’ll soon be filled with the cheers of XHEROEZ lovers across the state, maybe even the country and quite possibly the world. it’s just you and todoroki now, standing together awkwardly, listening to the world around you as you watch his friends interact with the people who appreciate them the most.

kirishima takes pictures with a few of the girls, kaminari doing his best to thank them while izuku insists they be in the little vlog. bakugou and sero manage a conversation in English, both having gone to international schools before becoming idols.

you take a chance and look up to shouto who stands beside you, snowflakes caught in the unfair length of his lashes, sitting high on his slightly scarred cheekbone that his fans still adore despite not knowing where it came from or how he got it. you won’t ask and it’s part of his charm, you guess. “you should be over there, with them.” comes your voice, hushed against the bustling city.

“i’m not one for fan service,”

you scoff, knowing just how todoroki acted on stage and on camera. not one for fan service your ass. “liar.” liar, pants on fire. you finish the rest in your head, knowing he’d tease you for being childish.

“you’re right,” he hums under his breath, turning to look at you with his hands in his pockets. “i lied because you wouldn’t be able to handle their reactions if i did go over there and give them the fan service they’re after. i know you hate it when i do it.”

how did he—? were you that obvious with your dislike for him?

“you must hate your fans then,”

“oh no, quite the contrary. i only save hatred for one special person,” todoroki jests, at least you think he’s joking when he pulls his hands out of his pockets to salute you before joining the rest of his idol group standing with the girls. for once, he hadn’t said something mean when opening his mouth to speak to you and for once you find a coy smile on your lips at this fact. maybe shouto todoroki truly was apologetic for what he had said about you yesterday, and perhaps if things kept going like this, you would be able to forgive him.

it was a step in the right direction.

with newfound, better spirits, you munch on your greasy american treats with the security guards while the boys do their thing, scrolling through your phone and not even noticing that one of the girls has approached you.

you only do so when she grips your wrist, eyes boring deep into your soul— nails almost digging into your flesh.

“uh—excuse me?”

“you should stay away from them, XHEROEZ.” her tone is adamant, clearly a crazed fan as she steps into your personal space just a little more. “they don’t need some chick like you getting in the way of their career and ruining their success.”

security steps forward to separate you from the girl but you hold a hand up behind you— thinking that you could maybe talk her down. “l-listen, i just work for them? i’m not,” her nails dig deeper into your flesh and you gasp. “i-i’m not going to ruin anything!”

“stay away from them, stay away from todoroki.” she threatens again, shaking your entire body just from her grip on your wrist and of course she’s one of his stupid little fans— if you coild even call her that. she grabs at you again but this time you flinch out of fear, worried for an impact that may never come. “you’ll get him into a scandal!” her mouth almost froths.

her hero, her idol— shouto todoroki pulls you away from her before that happens. “i think your behaviour could get me into an even bigger scandal than my makeup artist could.” he grits his teeth, getting his bodyguards to pull the girl away from you completely— hissing at them to do their damn jobs to protect you as well as them. she was sure to get blacklisted.

“t-todoroki! i’m your biggest fan! i was just taking my care of this for you—“ she exclaims, thinking her idol would be impressed but the girl’s face, one stricken with awe for the man she’d only ever seen on screen, drops as shouto turns against her, defending you with waves of heat running off of his body into the crisp air.

“you’re not a true fan if you think harassing my staff is the way to go. back off.” todoroki keeps his voice even and polite, dragging you away from the girl as he lets security deal with her. the idol looks at you again, his eyes flash with hostility again— at you, or the girl you have no idea why but it seems whatever fleeting truce you had gone with the wind.

your day out ends here, a chill in your bones at todoroki defending you, at a girl almost clawing your face off. not a word is uttered about it until you’re back at the hotel and hawks has the pr team back in Japan sweep the incident clean off of the Internet.

when you go to bed that night, you can’t get that look on shouto’s face out of your mind— trying to figure out if you should hate that he protected you or feel apologetic instead.

on the day of the show you remain a muddle of emotions— conflicted as to how you should feel about shouto todoroki.

he was an enigmatic spider with a complex web of emotions that you couldn’t seem to understand. did he hate you? did he respect you? the lines had blurred more and more over the course of this trip to the point where your brain throbbed just thinking about shouto todoroki— seeing him as more than just a personal projection of your failures. seeing him as a whole person versus the fraction that made you hate him.

could even say that you hated him now?

you shake the thought from your frazzle mind in order to finish setting up the rest of your kits, shades of foundation and eye shadows already spread across the vanity in the backstage area the staff at the jingle ball had prepared for you. the boys tumble out of rehearsals shortly after, high on the energy they feel from being on stage and performing— even if it was just for sound check. they practically glow under the white tinted artificial light up above and you know that their sheer joy will make your job very easy tonight.

XHEROEZ will be performing a six song set with a range of concepts, so you decide to go with something personal for each of the boys— drafting out the looks in your notebook prettily until you jump at the sound of a furious hawks’ voice.

“whaddya mean you don’t know where shouto todo-fuckin’-roki is?” the ends of the blonde’s words are clipped, the vein on his forehead pulsing with irritation— the tips of his ears flaring bright red and the CEO looks as if all of his feathers have been ruffled right down to the core. kirishima stands opposite him, face guilty and crimson eyes turned towards the floor while his band mates look on in shock. “anyone got any clue as t’where that brat might be?”

and of course, the man you feel so torn over is missing on one potentially the biggest days of his career— an instance that makes your stomach twist with, greed to perform and to have what he has bleed green into your guts in the shade of feverish jealousy. “i-i’m sorry boss,” eijirou close to whines, the ecstatic energy that had been building up in his body slowly trickling out. the room cools with the sudden dampening in the air and hawks pinches the bridge of his nose, waiting for the rapper to continue. “i woke him up just before we left! he said he was comin’ but i thought he was taking the other car today, so i didn’t push—!”

“‘course that kid sleeps in.” the boss’ shoulders drop with his sharp inhale of breath as his yellow gaze shoots to you and you curse when he utters your full name. “you’re up, can you grab todoroki from the hotel for me?”

“but why me?” you whine like a child at the thought of seeing him again. “why not someone else—?”

keigo sighs, patience running thin. with you, with everyone in the room and the selfishness of XHEROEZs’ vocalist. “you’re the only artist that has their station set up, we need all the managers and staff here to finish getting set up for the show that starts in four hours,” your boss is getting even more pissed off the more he reasons with you and you feel like the more he talks, the less choice you have.

in the end, you agree to go, with an hour to travel to the hotel and back— you manage to get up to todoroki’s hotel room, banging down on the door while his manager waits outside in a sleek black car. the drive had taken a little over half an hour, with a light stream of traffic settling through New York City due to the settling snow— so there wasn’t much time left to wake up the seemingly sleeping dual haired idol, and banging on the door wasn’t working out for you now. shoving your hand into your pocket, you pull out the keycard kirishima had given you— since the two were sharing a room and force your way in.

todoroki shouldn’t look like an angel while he’s asleep.

despite the mess of the room, in his place in his bed todoroki is illuminated by the bright and natural light shining through the curtain— his red and white locks are spread messily across his expensive pillows, cherry lips parted gently at he snores quietly into the room. he looks so pretty, so pretty you almost don’t even want to wake him up but he has a job to do, people counting on him for one of the biggest nights of the year. people are counting on you to get him there. in three short strides, you cross the room and reach the idol’s bed before attempting to shake him awake.

“todoroki, todoroki!” you hiss lowly, still quiet as if not to wake him when it’s essentially your major goal. shouto groans lightly, akin to a child trying to hide from their mom rousing them from their sleep. you try again and he turns away from you, only causing your irritation to spike. “shouto! wake the fuck up!”

he blinks, once, twice.

and then he sees you.

pretty face twisted into a scowl, hair out of place ever so slightly— brows furrowed and the first thing that comes out of his mouth is. “what?”

“w-what? wh-whaddya mean what?” you gasp, suddenly flustered as you realise how close you are to shouto, so close you can feel his breath on your skin and you topple backwards onto his bed— knees hitting the comforter glossed with his scent. peppermint candy-canes. “do you have any idea what time it is? how late you are? what were you even doing?”

“sleeping.” obviously.

todoroki’s lips quirk up into an amused smirk. you’re cute when you’re angry and bitter, even cuter when he’s sliding out of bed shirtless and you have no choice but to look at his toned dancer’s body— going from roaring at him like a pissed off wildcat to trembling like a little kitten. “sleeping? you’re due to perform at the Madison Square Garden in literally three hours and you were sleeping?” you squeak, chucking a shirt at him amidst your panic and throwing a bag together full of shoutou’s belongings he might need for after the show. “this is a career changing moment! life changing even! and you were about to sleep right through it—!”

“alright,” the idol cuts through your words as a messy mop of candy cane hair pops through his grey-blue cotton shirt— you note that it matches his eyes. roughly. “relax, i get it. i’m awake now, we won’t be late.”

something about the nerveless echo to todoroki’s voice is what tips you over the edge, setting off your fuse. “you know this is about more than just you right? there are fans counting on you, people waiting for you..” whirling around, the words are spat out through gritted teeth, accompanied by your narrowed eyes and an even deeper scowl. “oversleeping? that's just—it’s just irresponsible!”

todoroki doesn’t like that, how you suddenly switch on him— attacking him just millimetres from where his heart is, where his fans and career lie. “you’re calling me irresponsible? after you almost got yourself attacked by fans the other day?” he snarls back, making you freeze. making you gasp.

your movements pause as you throw open his hotel curtains, expanding the slit of white light that leaks into the room—he had protected you and now he was blaming you? the room is flooded with blaring white from the heavy layers of snow outside, blanketing the city in shades of crisp eggshell, dotting car tops and skyscrapers and sidewalks. the whole city is a city of snow. you can feel the chill draft seeping through the seal of the windows, stinging your fingertips and your cheeks until you have to be yanked away from the cold before it seeps into your bones.

“it’s cold,” todoroki growls into the shell of your ear, arms wrapped around your middle as he pulls you away. “you should be careful.” there’s a beat of silence where you’re both entranced by the snow falling from up above, shouto slowly letting you go and pulling his warmth away from you with it. “you’re an idiot,”

he says softly as your phone buzzes with a text message from shouto’s manager outside, there’s a light blizzard coming, stay indoors. it says.

so you don’t bother to move.

———

fifteen minutes later and shouto wanders out of the shower in an even more sour mood than before, sweats hanging low on his taut waist as water droplets cascade down his milky skin and drip from his two toned hair, illuminated by the white sky outside.

the entire duration of his shower, you’d spent sitting on his bed with your gaze fixated on the snowy view— trying to come up with alternative methods to get back to the venue with the time you have left, which is just under three hours at this point. you’d promised hawks you’d have todoroki back within one. while shouto moves about the room, presumably getting dressed, your phone pings with a message from katsuki— no doubt bored while he gets his hair done for the show.

blonde brat - 7:52PM: you got that half n half asshole yet?

you - 7:55PM: peppermint gremlin secured!!

blonde brat - 7:57PM: thank fuck. get back here.

tucking away your phone with a heavy sigh, you turn back to todoroki who’s flicking through his own device— perhaps checking his Twitter account or the weather as well. “i’ve been trying to figure out a way for us to get to MSG through the weather, i think if we—“

“i don’t care. just get us there.” he snaps in response, face falling the more he scrolls through his phone— he looks to you then, your brow raised and unimpressed and rolls his eyes. “gonna scold her for being irresponsible and inconsiderate too? my shower was cold, don’t expect me to be all fine and dandy.”

“you can just take a warm shower, when we get to the venue of course. don’t be a sourpuss,” you chuckle and try not to look while todoroki puts his phone down to tug on a thicker sweater, his abs rippling as he works. “we’re gonna bundle up extra warm and take an uber down there, if we leave while the snow is light we could probably make it—“

todoroki sucks his teeth, looking at you as if you were stupid. “have you seen the weather reports? i’m not going out in that. it’ll get worse.”

“that’s why we should leave now, while the snow is light and so you don’t have to disappoint your thousands of adoring fans,” you counter, rendering the idol temporarily silent as he rolls his eyes at you and finishes off getting ready. however, you end up being the disappointed one when you realise there aren’t any ubers or bolts available in your area. “you know what? we might have to walk it,” you say quietly as you make your way over to the door, pushing down on the handle and frowning when the door won’t budge. “what the hell?”

now fully dressed, the dual haired idol joins you at the door, still in a sour mood as he gives the door a push as well— grunting when it doesn’t open. “we’re not doing that— push harder.”

“i am!” you whine. “we need to leave if we're going to get there on time.”

“no you’re not, push again.”

you’re both fighting the door, trying to get out of the hotel room— banging on it with your shoulders and using all of your body weight to get through until the complimentary phone starts to ring shrilly from across the room. todoroki moves to answer, leaving you to struggle with the handle a little more.

‘dear guest, due to the unfortunate bad weather— our electronic keycard systems controlled by online software are currently down. we advise you to remain calm in your rooms while we manually unlock these doors.’

well fuck.

with the systems down, there’s effectively no way for you and todoroki to escape the hotel room— trapped together in an enclosed space with your impatience and frustrations rising.

it doesn’t help that the power completely goes out as well.

———

without power, the pair of you set up some of the scented candles hotel staff are passing under the doors to keep everyone warm— since it’s only a matter of time before the heating systems go down too. todoroki ignores you for the most part, giving you a cold shoulder chillier than the snow storm building up outside, so you use the peace in the room to send out texts to hawks and the other staff members, letting them know that you won’t be able to make it back in time for the show— your battery dies halfway through responding to bakugou.

“this is all your fault,” you say, nose tipped up like a snooty child and todoroki finally pays you some attention, expression confused as you speak to him. “if you hadn’t been so selfish, followed your schedule like everybody else! we wouldn’t have been in this mess. if we had just left when the snow was light like i said we should, we would have been there by now!”

shouto huffs, setting his phone down calmly while his face flashes with the flames of anger. “it wouldn’t have mattered what time we left, with this snow we wouldn’t even have a show! and i’m allowed to be selfish— to want to rest when i’m overworked. i needed the rest, so just can it, okay?”

you don’t understand, his argument is weak. today, this show, it isn’t just about him— there’s no room to be selfish like this in a team full of other people reaching for the stars— launching themselves into space to touch their dreams. it makes you sick to your stomach, the way he thinks— like everything is all about him. “your fans needed you!” you all but scream, voice tearing through the silence in the room— the volume and angry colour to your voice surprising you both. “god just...just give me your charger so i can get my phone back and call someone to fix this within the next two hours.”

“i don’t have it.” he blinks.

and you blink back. “what do you mean you don’t have it?”

“kirishima took it with him.” todoroki says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “where’s yours?”

“at the venue. the one we’re supposed to be at right now, idiot!”

“well then who’s the idiot now?”

you think that this is your last straw, throwing your phone onto todoroki’s bed with so much force that it bounces back up like the rage you feel brewing deep inside you to hit the idol all at once. “you know what? you know what todoroki?” you’re sure that in this moment you must look a picture of insanity to him, eyes twitching, face scrunched up in anger but you don’t care— throwing out all your inner thoughts and insecurities onto him. “you’re the laziest, most insensitive, piece of shit asshole i’ve ever met. people out there are counting on you, want to see you, want to be you and here you are lazing about because you must not give a shit about anyone aside from yourself.”

“god,” you continue, throwing your hand up in the air— irked by his silence. “you really don’t care, do you? you’re probably not even in it for your fans, but for the money and the fame and not what it means to be a true idol—!”

“are you done now?” the dual haired male cuts through your speech like ice through a water surface— his eyes frozen over, showing no emotion even if your words might have gotten to him. “you like to act like you’re above me…” he says your name so icily that you flinch as if a shard as nicked your skin. “but really you’re just as bad as me, picking on the idol you work for by projecting your insecurities onto him as if i’m some kind of rag doll. i’m everything you’ve ever wanted to be, everything you’ve dreamed of and failed at achieving. it’s pathetic, embarrassing. you failed at becoming an idol, then becoming a choreographer and now. even a makeup artist.”

“you only care because someone else is doing the shit that you can’t. i’m the pathetic one? try being you.”

each one of his words is like a sting to your beating heart, the venom behind them seeping into your veins slowly and poisoning you from the inside out. you refuse to cry in front of him, show him that everything he’s said about you is true and so you swallow the lump in your throat— biting down on your tongue, pushing it all down. it’s not until after everything is said and done that todoroki realises the harshness of what he’s said— reaching out to grab you and apologise as you turn away from him. hurt.

backing into a corner and away from him, the world goes quiet around todoroki as he tries to find the words he needs to make your pain go away. “save it, shouto. use your energy to hope that someone gets us outta here. so you don’t fail like i did.”

neither of you speak after that.

teeth chattering, you desperately try to sink into the warmth of todoroki’s old promotional clothes— the heating having gone out about half an hour ago. he’d looked it up on the internet just before his phone died, how to keep warm without power and most articles suggested layering up and spreading out blankets along the floors. the clothes, despite consisting of itchy fabrics and random stylised holes, carry a comforting scent despite belonging to a man with a frozen heart, you’re at least grateful for that.

“there’s uh, a little warm spot on this side of the room if you’re still cold,” todoroki calls from his own little sanctuary of warmth, as he puts down his guitar— where you’d practically banished him to.

you scowl, bunching up his many jackets and jumpers around you. “could’a mentioned that earlier.” asshole.

you sidle over to his side of the room, hesitantly letting todoroki guide you to a warm spot in the floor where hot water must’ve been running and sigh in relief— you don’t know how long it’ll last but you’ll take what you can get.

“we should probably huddle together—“

“no.” you cut him off.

“—for warmth.” he lifts his arm to invite you underneath the blankets he has and it’s so so tempting, to huddle up beneath them with him and tuck yourself into the comforting scent of todoroki’s chest but you’re scared it won’t be so warm and he won’t be so comforting if you do. “it said so on the thread we read—“

“fine.”

you curl into his firm side, blanket trapping you in against the idol but you don’t dare to move— face stiff against the muscle of his chest while you try to gather every string of warmth from him. it feels weird to be hugging shouto todoroki like this. the red and white haired idol reaches for his guitar again, slowly as if not to disturb you and hesitantly strums the same chords from earlier— as if he was figuring out a melody.

“i didn’t know that you played,” you whisper against the melody, breaking the pin drop silence in the sub zero air. todoroki scribbles something down on a napkin and you gasp. “or wrote.”

he looks down at you, eyes shimmering in the flickering candle light and there’s somewhat of a smile on his face. “there’s a lot you don’t know about me,”

“oh yeah?” you push, sitting up. “like what?”

todoroki pretends to think, brushing his dual tone hair out of his winter eyes before smirking at you mischievously. “i help to write some of the songs bakugou produces, bleaching my hair is never a probably because it’s naturally white, i like cold soba but hate when kirishima cooks it because it’s too bland,” he starts listing those, watching you carefully for a reaction— remembering the facts that make your face twist. “i like living at the dorms because i’m not close with my parents and hardly see my siblings, i get travel sick. my blood type is O, my favourite season is winter, my favourite animal is a snow leopard and i like the colour blue.” he finishes gently, fingers resting against his guitar strings.

“the last ones, you can read those on fan websites, everyone knows those,” you try to act nonchalant as if this isn’t the most todoroki has opened up to you without freezing you out after and he chuckles at your bluntness— tapping his nose.

“but aren’t they more sincere when they’re coming from me?” shouto asks, you can’t tell if he’s being genuine or not— you can’t decipher him at all, it’s like walking through a snowstorm with no clue which way you’re going. his mouth opens and closes as he strums idly, debating on the right words to say without creating a catalyst between you again. “i wanted to apologise,” he begins in a low voice, not looking at you, winter eyes locked away. “for what i said to you earlier, it was harsh and uncalled for. especially with what hawks told me. i know saying sorry doesn’t make it right but i truly mean it.”

your icy heart shakes in your chest, rattling against your ribcage— todoroki, apologising. it melts the outer shell of your heart, warms you up just a touch and you feel the words pouring out of your mouth before you can stop them. “i’m sorry too. you were a little harsh, but right about most things. i’ve failed at most things more than i succeeded and being stuck in one place made me take it out on you,” you take a deep breath and squeeze his arm. “and for that i’m sorry, for putting my disappointments onto you.”

“don’t be disappointed in yourself, you’re not an idol but you’re still in the industry— that in itself is hard enough,” todoroki whispers, squeezing you back in a weird expression of forgiveness.

a melody fills the air, tangled with his perfect soft voice as it dances perfectly with the chords from his guitar— your body sinks into his, relaxing with every sweet note escaping from todoroki’s perfect lips, taking you away from the raging storm outside, bringing you to somewhere warmer, safer.

“what’s your song about?”

“my fans,” todoroki says instantly, continuing to strum his fingers against the strings on his guitar. “my thankfulness towards them. i know that i lack sometimes, that i seem lazy and cold but i do love them. i didn’t want to be an idol, i joined hawks’ company to be a singer and ended up a part of a team.” the song climaxes as your gazes lock, not like any times before where they were full of animosity. this time, they’re tender, gentle. “i can’t let them down, not when they’ve helped me grow so much.”

you sit up, facing the opposite of todoroki as you struggle with your words— realising he’s completely different to the man you hated in your head. “i misjudged you, you’re so good to your fans and team. i’m sure that they love you.”

he only shakes his head fondly, still continuing to fill the space between you with his gentle spoken and meaningful lyrics— pulling you into him like an invisible force of gravity, grabbing you by the shoulders in a warm embrace against the cold frosty weather outside. your skin tingles, hot to the touch as your eyes mirror todoroki’s hooded ones, drawn in by each of his angelic notes while he shows off his vocalist skills. he serenades you, wraps you in all that is him, truly him and before you know it— you’re blindly leaning into the calm storm of shouto todoroki, lips falling against his as the strumming slows until it stops, guitar cast to side as you kiss for the first time.

it’s barely there at first, all most non-existent as your lips glide along todoroki’s— they’re softer than you anticipated, glossed and balmy as they move with your own in delicate lip lock. he’s heated, warmer too as his hands let go of the guitar to cup the curve of your face, tilt it upwards so he can reach deeper into your soul and pour his passion you thought he didn’t have into you. on the contrary, his hands are rough and not perfect like you’d thought, not like the rest of him— his fingertips digging into your cheeks are rough from playing guitar, calloused from what seems like years of practice as he drags you by the waist into his lap to kiss you more, tease you more.

your noses are pressed together, bumping every time you separate for air— chests getting ragged the more your lips touch and tongues slide over their chapped surfaces, your body flames with something new. how does he make you feel like this? your burning hatred simmering on its stove into something sweeter, loving and lustful as todoroki’s tongue is heavy in your mouth but in the nice kind of way, drooling against your own tongue as the kiss becomes more passionate, becomes hungrier like there’s a ravenousness you both have for one another, to be closer and show your true feelings.

“w-what...what are we doing?” you sigh breathlessly, body blossoming and unwinding under shouto’s touch that sears straight through the layers of his clothes that you wear— fingerprints burning your skin at your waist. a blush fans across todoroki’s nose and cheeks, pink and a few shades lighter than his hair as he licks into your mouth with wanton, tugging you this way and that as if your bodies could get any closer. they can’t, it’s impossible but he doesn’t care— angling your head upwards so he can lick at the honey strands of saliva hanging from the roof of your mouth to sedate himself, your sweetness trickling down against his tongue— making his eyes cross and his whole body shake just from kissing you. from kissing you. “s-shouto! what are we—?”

you gasp as he nips your bottom lip, slowly pulling the flesh away from you before pushing you onto your back— following you down and swallowing your nerves whole when your lips meet again, sticky from the spit you’ve swapped, glazed in your honey. “apologising,” he says finally, his own breathing ragged because of you. you have this effect on him. “let me show you how well and truly sorry i am.”

your mind is as frenzied as the snow drowning the city outside when your back hits the blanketed floor, the slopes of todoroki’s face above you are illuminated by warm candle light— burning your insides, leaving you content, leaving you weightless while he toys with the hem of your clothes— stormy eyes searching your own face for consent. you can’t even speak, thoughts racing through your mind, questioning everything. is this truly how he felt about you while you forced your resentment towards him? hated him while he searched for a hand through the blizzard? shouto waits for your word although your body says yes, slipping his hands under your clothes to rub at the flesh of your tummy and sending tingles across the skin.

“okay,” you nod and shouto smiles, so beautifully like a beacon of light amidst the dark stormy sky— you nod again and he tucks his red and white mop of hair against your neck, lips ascending on it thoughtfully, without leaving marks since both of you could get into trouble with the company— but they’re wet on your skin, shivers jumping down the junctions of your spine while shouto’s tongue, hot on your icy flesh licks from your collar bones up to your jugular and ends the shimmering trail of where your neck meets your chin.

how can you imagine what the cold outside feels like when the idol’s large body presses feverishly into yours? you feel his burning desire for him even through the layers of clothes you have on, you let his large palms knead your flesh and push at the expensive fabrics just to feel you more and more. goosebumps rising across your skin at the exposure to cold are are quickly erased by todoroki’s warmth and wherever he touches you, moving down to press kisses along your stomach the more he reveals to the world, helping you sit up to tug off the countless shirts and hoodies you wear once they reach your neck. your chest is his next target, wet tongue dragged from the cliffs of your collar bones to your nipples at attention, calling to him. “you’re so pretty,” he rasps, head laying on your chest, hair tickling your now naked skin and fingertips running up and down your sides. “you’ve always been so pretty, even when you were mad at me, even more so when you were smiling.”

you shudder under his breath that cascades over your skin. “i wonder how you’ll look,” todoroki says, lids growing heavy just by watching you and waiting for your reactions. “when i touch you the way you want, when you give into your deepest desires,” his fingers crawl across your chest to pinch at your nipples, smiling against you when you gasp and choke on air. “when you give in to me,” there’s a husky echo to his voice that you feel vibrate and shoot to your core— distracting you only momentarily from the feeling of his lips encapsulating your right nipple, rolling the hardened bud between rows of perfect teeth. he grunts, large hands spanning out against your stomach when you arch your back into his mouth, pushing you back down onto your makeshift sea of blankets. your face twists in a mix of pleasure and agony— forcing you to lay in place and take what he gives. “patience love, let me take my time with you. we have a lot to make up for,”

“shou—“ you grumble, body flashing with heat that wards off the snowy cold, face even hotter when the dual haired idol pulls away from your saliva slicked chest with wet lips and a haze in your eyes. “please shouto, please—!” you don’t even know what it is that you’re asking for, perhaps begging for his forgiveness so that he’ll touch you, give you more than just his tongue against your ribcage when you arch your back or his lips on your sternum. you need his touch where the fire is brightest, where your need for him is strongest. “shouto!”

“my name on your lips,” he coos quietly, mouth rolling over your unattended nipple while his hand toys with the abandoned one. “do you have any idea what it does to me?” todoroki lays between your parted thighs, pushing his obvious erection right up against the meat of them, causing a whimper to tear in your throat. you’re hit with the realisation that you never really say his name, only a combination of foul words and nicknames when you address him. “i wonder what you’ll sound like when i tend to you between these thighs, make you feel good down there.”

your entire body jolts at his words, thighs locking at the base of his spine, trapping his body against you and todoroki smirks with red cheeks and misted eyes— liking the effect he has on you. “i-if you get to touch me down there, t-then i get to do the same for you,” you’re adamant in what you say, hips lifting to bump against his swelling cock until he falters above you. “right?”

“how could i say no to that?” todoroki grins and you miss his crackle of heat against your body as he pulls back to yank off his shirt, hair flying out of place and milky skin painted with the flavours of a rose once his head pops through. both of your pants go next, todoroki taking his time as he pulls them off of you leg by leg, kissing up from your ankles to your thighs before allowing you to throw his off too. your underwear goes on the same breath.

and then there you are, naked and chest to chest— looking at each other dazed with your ice hearts banging against the ribs in your chest like the shutters against the windows because of the wind. yet the world seems quiet, completely stilled as your hands hesitantly cup the idol’s face to bush hair out of his blue-grey eyes, your frozen heart melting when he leans into your palm.

“why so quiet?” he asks you, voice barely above a whisper. “nervous?”

“no.” you say, thumb brushing his cheek.

his eyes flutter shut. “then what?”

“you’re just so beautiful…”

lips are on yours before you can take a second breath, he’s overwhelming your senses yet again— filling your void like the city is filled with snow while his hands dart between your trembling soft thighs, pinching them and teasing them apart until he’s pressed up right against your sex, already so wet and sticky for him. he growls lowly, rough padded finger swirling around your entrance, threading your slick between them and he laughs lightly at just how turned on you are—before he’s even touched you.

“s-shouto!”

“shhh, pretty one. wait a second, promise I’ll make you feel good, okay?” he says pushing his lips onto a mocking pout as your eyes brim with liquid silver— tears gathering in your lashes while your hands search for something to ground yourself, latching onto shouto’s bicep as he eases a single finger past your entrance, curling against your slippery inner walls.

crescent moons break against snowy skin, leaving red tracks in place while pushing another finger alongside the first, marvelling at the hot, manuka honey mess growing between your plush thighs— your hole is resisting around shouto’s thick digits, the blunt tips pressing against the sensitive spots along your insides causing squelching sounds to echo along the hotel walls, as marvellous and sinful as any one of todoroki’s songs. the way you yowl so desperately the more he explores you, the more eager todoroki is to please you— realising with the growing weight of lust lodging itself into his chest, that he would do anything for you. he would clear skies of their thunder clouds, brush away a hurricane for you until you could breach the clouds and see the stars— the ones you could just barely touch with your own two hands.

“there you go sweetheart, take it, just like that,” your cute little sex sucks his fingers in so well, dripping thick waves of your sweet nectar down them, gathering in his palm before he thrusts them, sendin you travelling up the blankets gathered on the floor— your eyes rolling and thighs squeezing around his wrist, locking him between them so he can keep bringing you this brand new, blinding pleasure that makes your tummy bubble.

you’re like a snowflake, melting underneath todoroki as he pumps his fingers in and out of your slick, tight little hole— your chest rises and falls with the flick of a candle, ropes of saliva caught on the roof of your mouth, tongue bursting over the seams of your lips as he prepares you for his taking, like a ripening fruit so fresh and juicy all for him. you’re so cute beneath him, a sweet little mess for him to clean up and ruin all over again— he can’t help it, barely fighting the urge to kiss you once again and swallow the airy moans that slip out of you with every twist of his fingers and brush of their tips against your pleasure spots. if you are the snow then todoroki is the blistering sun, sending his sunlight through your bloodstream, hot with the pure ecstasy— bringing you closer and closer, building it high in slow stacks until your limbs are trembling underneath the weight.

in the mess of limbs and locked lips you manage to slip your hand between your heated bodies, grinning against shouto’s mouth when his cock jumps at your simple touch— gasping his cock you get a feel for the weight of him, he makes up for length where he lacks thickness, clean as they come and incredibly hard while his tip drools into your soft palm, milky white staining your skin as you begin to jerk todoroki off. he hisses into the wet cavern of your mouth, chest bristling contently against your own, he likes what you do to him, how the softness of your hand sneds sparks of dopamine across his brain—causes his hips to jut forward ever so softly, smearing more of his pre against your skin. the pair of you shudder, playing with one another to the melody of your sweet whines and whimpers and your eyes drop to where you’re joined, hands glistening with evidence of your arousals and drool pools on the palette of your tongue just admiring todoroki’s crystal cut body and pink flushed face, his lips as he pulls away from you— kiss swollen and cherry licorice red.

he’s the one melting now, weak and like putty in your hands as you first his cock, his tip a shade of red as bright as his hair…but even still, todoroki doesn’t let up— continuing to pump his fingers against your velvet lined walls and bearing them down on the pleasure spot that increases the shake in your doughy thighs. todoroki’s cock leaks so much your hands slip and slide over him, creating the perfect fleshlight for him to fuck the more his hips buck forward into your closed hand. “f-fuck, sweetheart,” his breath stutters, caught in the ridges of his throat when you begin to thumb at his tip, movement guided by the hick globs of precum that bead there. you don't’ dare to stop pleasuring the idol, feeling pride swell in your chest to see a man of his caliber fall down a few pegs, the way he feels att the mercy of your talented hands.

“you like that shou?” you inquire, panting between your slurred words as wet sounds cut through the blizzard, your bodies grinding against one another— your fingers playing with one another and you’re sure the mess of sheets and blankets and clothes below are stained with the mixes of your arousals and teasers of your release and your hand slips further down between you both to grip at shouto’s balls, heavy with a load of cum and all for you. he flicks his wrist, harder, faster in return as you mutually bring each other one step closer to release—barely clinging onto the edge of your peaks.

cheeks practically glowing a shade of rose in the dark, todoroki drops his head to your neck— the strokes of his fingers against your pleasure spot becoming lazy but even more frequent, desperate to make you as close as he is. “‘m gonna cum f’you,” todoroki admits through the growls that reverberate between you both, lewdly fucking your fist as if itt was your tight sex. ”gonna fuckin’ cum, don’t stop okay? cum for me, cum with me,” he grows more and more demanding, but his body and voice tremble with neediness.

“cum shou, with me. please!” you beg, finding yourself in the exact same sate, practically falling apart on his fingers, the pleasure that had been building within you toppling over at the same time as todoroki falls off the edge into an earth shattering high. neither of you stop, let up as your releases splash out and paint one another, his cock twitching in your grip and staining your knuckles white with his hot seed. he mewls into your neck and you cry into the frosty air, orgasm trickling down shouto’s thick fingers and pooling between your fleshy asscheeks, leaving you both struggling and gasping for air.

it doesn't take long for todoroki to be at your neck again, gently nipping at the flesh while you come to. “‘m going to give you my cock now, okay sweetheart? you’ll be able to take it, right?” he questions you, peppering smooches along your neckline, wet and sloppy as he goes.

“uhuh,i-i’m ready,” you slur over the saliva in your mouth, mind pleasantly fuzzy as todoroki manhandles you into the position to take his cock just the way he wants, keeping you on your back, he uses a knee to spread you open again by the meat of your thighs— taking ahold of his dripping dick before he slaps it against your soaked hole a few times, moaning deep at the salacious, sticky sounds your sexes make as he grinds against you, already easing his bulbous tip past your entrance. he can’t help but chuckle huskily att the way your hole sucks him in so good, clenching around him as if to trap him inside— he fucks you with just the tip at first, watching you writhe and raise your hips as if asking for more. “c’mon, don’t tease!”

“patience baby, just like i told you before,” todoroki hums in amusement, caging you in as he thrusts all the way in, reaching the hilt and bottoming out inside of you. while the idol enjoys finally having his cock wrapped up in the warmth of your sloppy and sensitive insides— he finds the strength within himself to pull out of your adorably selfish hole to start a a deep and sensual pace, dragging his seed bleeding ip along your insides, setting a steady stream of thrusts that hit so deep you feel him in your guts. the force of his hips rolling into yours pulls pathetic bleats from between your wet and kiss swollen lips, your hands finding purchase on the hairs that sit on the nape of todoroki’s neck while you let him overrule your body, taking it over— mind, body and soul.

how could you have ever hated him so passionately, when he looks down at you like you’re a safe space in a storm? looks down at you with cool toned eyes that speak volumes of admiration. there are so many feelings in todoroki’s eyes and you uncover more with each rut of his hips into yours, creamy and lewd, the length of him leaving you completely filled as he moulds your insides into his shape. “y-you’re so good,” you tell him earnestly, struggling to catch your breath over his intensity and weakly lift your hips to match his rhythm, clenching around every ridge and vein of todoroki’s lengthy girth as it pushes and pulls at your spongy insides and bumps against pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had. “f-fuck you feel s’good, shouto!”

smiling down at you dopily, heart vulnerable and on his sleeve, shouto grips at your hips— working himself deeper inside your fluttering hole and stretching you out all for him. he wants you to forget any pain he’s caused you, erase anything horrible he’d ever said to you that replays in your mind because in reality, shouto todoroki adores you and every ounce of drive that he has and your praise makes him want to feel worthy of it, makes him want you to see the stars through the murky grey skies. there’s this same sense of adoration written behind his touches as todoroki guides your hips to move along with his, both of you moving in sync, bodies harmonising like a beautifully written song while he splits you open on his cock, having you ooze nectar down his shaft as it drips down to his heavy balls and ruins he clothes and sheets and blankets beneath you both. he fucks you hard just to show you how he really feels, what he didn’t get to say while you were both too busy hating each other to see the truth. you want his good, his bad, his scared and his safe all at once, and shouto is determined to give it to you, balls deep inside your creamy sex.

“sweetheart, y-you’re such a pretty little thing for me, making such a mess on my cock and a mess of my heart. aren’t i a lucky man?” the idol coos to you endearingly, hiking your leg over his broad set shoulders so he can press his body hotly against yours until you’re chest to chest and there’s barely any space between you, compressing the blizzard of emotions beginning to rage between you both. greed and desire spread like frost on a window pane along your skin as it meets in rhythmic claps, balls hitting the curve of your fleshy ass. “to have you like this, god i’m so fucking lucky,” shouto’s voice is tight in his throat as he takes you over and over again, your fingers losing their grip in his split dyed hair and your core locking around his dick at his praise, offering the idol no escape from being inside you. liquid arousal, clear and and sweat rolls in waves down your thighs, sticking to his pelvis while you choke his girth and pull more precum from the slit on his tip.

it smears along your insides, making everything honeyed and gooey every time todoroki jackhammers against that spongy spot deep inside you. “i’m the lucky one..” you babble mindlessly, arousal heightening with the temperatures of your bodies as they work with one another to reach cloud nine— hot enough to melt an iceberg. “get to see your eyes, your darlin’ eyes as you fuck me so good,” you have no idea what you’resaying, high off of the ecstasy that exudes from your pores, all because of him.

embarrassed, flustered and with new found vigor, todoroki swoops down to capture your lips an iron hot kiss— tasting the sweat gathered on your cupids bow and searching the mess beneath you both for your hand that had once been lost in his hair. your fingers slot together perfectly, just like he does between your trembling and achy thighs, and todoroki gives your hand a squeeze— lovingly, softly. “shut up,” he mumbles against your bruised and cherry bitten li-ps, fighting a grin when your strawberry tongue rolls against his own, memorising the taste of his mouth. “let me make you feel good, let me apologise.” he wants to make you cum, see the life pulse in your eyes while he ruins you on his cock for all the wrongs he’s ever committed against you.

there’s a possible blizzard outside but shouto todoroki’s never felt safer than he has, a tangled mess with you— fucking you raw, making love to you and soiling your coreunttil your screams of his names echo into the hotel room. you’re so beautiful under the candle light, lips parted and lashes against your cheeks and if he could he would give up everything, even being an idol to see you like this again. so he pushes his creamy dick into you deeper, deeper, as far as it’ll go until your back arches off of the floor and you’re keening into his sun-like touch as if you’re craving his warmth. something akin to love, closer to fondness bleeds into the air, intertwined intricately with unadulterated emotion as todoroki grinds his cock into you, angling it into that special place inside of your sex that makes your brain ttingle with serotonin and dopamine and everything in between while your toes curl and your fingers clench.

incoherent praises are whispered into the bruises on your collarbones that you both know todoroki isn’t allowed to leave, but neither of you can find it in you to care— walking the fine line between sanity and losing your mind as the knots in your stomach begin to unwind and loosen themselves. “‘m sorry,” he mumbles, not knowing if it's for the deep blues and purples blossoming under your skin or if it’s for how he treated you in the past, slamming his cock into your tight hole over and over again as you gush and leak about the place. “‘m sorry, i-i’m—”

“hush,” you cup todoroki’s face, tears of lust clumped in your lashes again and he feels the snow storm wrapped around his heart calming, both of you so deep in your own cloud of vulnerability to notice the weather taming itself outside. “i-it’s okay, you’ve made it up t’me. l-let it…let it go now,” shouto can only nod weakly, fighting back the whine of relief bubbling up on his lips. that’s all he needs to hear before he’s chasing both of your releases, running through the storm of emotions for them as his tip nudges against your pleasure spot over and over, the pace of his hips becoming inconistent and skittish, moans rising in octave with every step you take closer to release.

“cum for me sweetheart, let go with me,” shouto whispers, squeezing your hand as your dam finally breaks and your release floods from your body. the world of white flashes behind your eyes, arousal coursing through your veins as you cry todoroki’s name with all your might, sobbing through your aftershocks as you succumb to the twitching and the pleasure— painting his tummy with your cum. todoroki follows suit, quickly pulling out of your spasming hole and collapsing against you, rutting his cock into the soft flesh of your tummy, curse words a plenty spilling from his hot mouth— licked into your neck by his tongue before hot stripes of his seed land on your sweaty skin one after the other, potent and milky and glueing you both together before exhaustion settles into your bones and his body gives out above yours completely— shouto managing to roll to the side before he squashes you.

your first instinct is to giggle, loud and carefree when both you come down— your fingers drawing little shapes and patterns into shouto’s freckled shoulder. “that was nice,” you say with a tiny smile, meeting his content eyes. “real nice. where’d you learn to do all that?”

“i’m an idol, sweetheart, not a nun. just because we have no dating policies doesn’t mean we can’t get around,” todoroki explains to you and plucks your hand from his shoulder, interlacing your fingers lazily. “but i’m sure hawks wouldn’t mind making an exception for his favourite employees.”

“oh stop! he’ll have to with the bruises you left on me!” you laugh again but let the peppermint haired idol pull away from you with a kiss so he can clean you up, heading to the bathroom in search of a warm cloth and soap safe for sensitive skin. he washes you up quickly but carefully, taking care of your tender spots and kissing each mark he’s made ( eventually letting you do the same ) before he’s got you wrapped up in his arms again— naked amongst the sheets you’d laid on the floor.

there’s a question on the tip of your tongue and one lodged in todoroki’s throat but neither of you have time to ask if for muffled voices echo on the other side of the door— the lights of the hotel room flickering back on at the wrong time.

“bakugou! calm down!”

“don’t tell him to calm down, midoriya, you’ll only make it worse!”

“like you’re any better denki!”

“can it, sero.”

“hey that’s not very nice you guys—“

“will all of you numbskulls shut the fuck up?” bakugou interjects the group’s bickering, tapping a keycard against todoroki’s hotel room door before he kicks it open without stopping to look at the scene laid out before him. “all of you dipshits are fuckin’ useless, ya hear? ‘n you can tell that to your shitty manager hawks too—“

kirishima notices first, face turning as red as his hair before the other boys follow his gaze and react in the same way. “uh...bakugou?”

“what? shitty hair?” the blonde snaps back, following kirishima’s finger that points to a very naked todoroki and a very very naked ( also bruised ) you. “holy fuck—“

todoroki’s cheeks redden as he throws a blanket over your head to protect your last shred of decency— glaring at the other members in his idol to turn their heads away out of respect, but it’s far too late for any of that now. “don’t you dare tell hawks.” he mumbles bashfully.

“i’ll make sure you get the ugly makeup concepts for an entire month!” you squeak.

katsuki’s face looks like an awful cross between throwing up and committing homicide but instead pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales deeply.

“put some fuckin’ clothes on, i didn’t get these idiots and i driven out here through the last of the snow to see your dick hangin’ our half ‘n half,” he growls, still grossed out. “there’s an hour left till showtime s’let’s get goin’! and charge your fuckin’ phones next time. ever heard of a portable charger?”

you take the scolding from bakugou and leap up to get dressed as soon as he and the other boys are gone, todoroki makes you a promise to talk about what you two are and what you mean to each other after the jingle ball performance but yourself and most of the fierce wings staff ( including hawks himself ) seem to have a pretty good idea already, since you turn up to the venue dressed in shouto’s closed— the red and white haired idol practically latched onto your side, a scary and unusual sight for all parties involved.

however everyone’s suspicions are completely confirmed when todoroki sneaks a good luck kiss from you, just before XHEROEZ head on stage to blow New York City away.

in the end, the snow manages to calm down enough for everyone to perform— the fans gathered inside madison square garden for the night of their lives. todoroki is rushed into hair and makeup, but his eyes don’t leave you the entire time— a new sense of pride and adoration for you running through his veins before the members of XHEROEZ stumble onto the stage and give the world their all.

and for the first time, you don’t feel an ounce of regret— you don’t feel weighted down by the burden you put on yourself, reminded that you are not a failure even if you didn’t quite make it to the top.

you made it here, you’re by his side— supporting those who reached your dream from the sidelines and you realise that’s enough.

todoroki dedicates the last song of the XHEROEZ set to someone special, someone with your name that he doesn’t expose to the crowd but you can tell it’s for you by the way his mop of red and white hair tilts back towards the stage and his cool blue eye drops into a lazy wink— making your heart race.

not all dreams come true and not all attempts to make them do so are failures. you decide you’ll help todoroki touch the stars and have a taste for the milky way — carrying out his dream together, hand in hand.

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