#ask meme. [ in a gentle way i will shake the world. ]

[ptolemaeaxstarters]

quotes that go unexpectedly hard ;

ask memes edition

" God may judge you but his sins outnumber your own. "

" I am a monument to all your sins. "

" Violence for violence is the rule of beasts. "

" To become god is the loneliest achievement of them all. "

" I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me. "

" If the world chooses to become my enemy, I will fight just like I always have. "

" I will face god and walk backwards into hell. "

" All knowledge is based on that which we cannot prove. "

" Will you fight? Or will you perish like a dog? "

" Do you think god stays in heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he's created? "

" Too many people have opinions on things they know nothing about and the more ignorant they are, the more opinions they have. "

" What is better- to be born good or to overcome your evil nature through great effort? "

" Pick a god and pray. "

" I see now that the circumstances of one's birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are. "

" Dude, sucking at something is the first step towards being sort of good at something. "

" Your gendered hands can't hurt me. "

" Tonight you spoke with the devil. The devil looked a lot like you. "

" Kill me. Kill me and live with the memory. Then tell the stars that you won. "

" You can't kill me in a way that matters. "

" Can you feel your heart burning? Can you feel the struggle within? "

" The fear within me is beyond anything your soul can make. "

" I thought there were no heroes left in this world. "

" You kneel before my throne unaware that it was born on lies. "

" Take this gift, for the gods surely won't. "

" If you shoot for the moon and miss, the cold vacuum of space will suck out your eyeballs. Failure is not an option. Go kill them. "

" You could sooner divert a river from its course than deny my nature. "

" You can't shake the devil's hand and say you're only kidding. "

" No one will know the violence it took to become this gentle. "

" There's no light at the end of this tunnel so it's a good thing we brought matches. "

" Impudent of you to assume I will meet a mortal end. "

" This is hell's territory and I am beholden to no gods. "

" Bury me shallow, I'll be back. "

" One day you'll decompose and I'll be here to see it. "

" The rage in your heart warms you now but it will leave you cold in your grave. "

" Then become the dirt I walk on. "

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

@ji-ang asked: For the fic ask meme: 4 (TWTaS), 30, and/or 39

4. What detail in [The World Through a Scope] are you really proud of?

Whenever I finally post the last chapter that has been finished for literally six years, I realised like three years in that I've done something very neat with the first and last line on complete accident, and I'm very excited about it. They flow into each other so nicely and I did not plan it. Which actually surprises me, because I pay so, so much (probably way too much) mind to first and last lines. I always want them to be perfect - and I think I got close!

To get to a detail I can actually point to right now:

I don't know if that counts because it's two whole minor characters, but I'm just so pleased with how Draven and Mothma have turned out. I have so much fun writing them, and I like how they relate to Cassian so much. They're both so very similar to him in very different ways, they're actually kind of like two halves of his psychology? Draven is so self-aware in this deeply uncurious way - he's examined every sleeping dog and decided to let it lie, look forward repress it march on - and is so oddly gentle with Cassian (but still enabling him, let's face it). And Mothma is equally sharp but weaponises it, and matches Cassian's aggression tit for tat and actually manages to goad him into dealing with his shit. They're both these very well meaning, kind of toxic and endlessly well-meaning parental figures and I love them to pieces. These are the scenes I'll miss writing the most when this fic is over.

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

Oh, for sure, and it was also TWTaS! I don't do long stringent plot, I'm a pantser! Do you know how hard it is to come up with a conspiracy as you're going along? There's a reason this plot is riddled with holes lol. Also, I never write action, that's so hard! And tame and unspecific as it is, TWTaS contains the only sex scene I've ever written, and I whined about it an embarrassing amount when I was working on it. I *hated* that scene when I first posted it, it was agonising. Looking back now, I think that chapter is the high point of the whole thing, and remains maybe the best thing I've ever written?

It's definitely made me braver to just try shit and see how it shakes out! Most of the stuff I dreaded doing turned out fine in the end - it also turned out very different from how I thought it would go, and it really showed me that the thing kind of comes to you. I'm a decently experienced writer at this point, and if I just take small stabs at it and let things happen, they tend to fall into place eventually, and I usually end up liking what I came up with a lot! (now to learn the same lesson for academia.... alas)

That and any attempt at comedic fic - I've only ever done that for Secret Santa exchanges, I think? But I really, really like the two (2) I did write, I think they actually came out funny!

Also, I did a lot of stylistic experimentation in my tiny three-part mafia AU Against Better Judgement (awful title), especially in "Rome's Still Burning", and it was very fun. I think giving yourself a very different and rigid style or theme to adhere to is a really useful writing exercise because you can't fall back on your usual patterns as much. In the same vein, I think when you write for only one fandom for too long, you get kind of set in your ways style-wise, so I like taking detours into other fandoms. I've found that my style will change up quite a bit that way. Sometimes, that works out really well for me (I'm so proud of my epistolary Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries fic and my The Book Thief crossover), sometimes it turns out kind of weird (my one The Americans fic I really like stylistically, but it's confusing to read - too much plot for the style that came out, I think). But it's always useful!

39. Is any aspect of your writing process inspired by other writers or people? If so, who?

Not really? I don't know that I *have* a process. I just put on music, open a word doc, stare at what I have, and then either add to it or not. It's very inefficient and I don't recommend it, but it's what I do.

Questions for Fic Writers

[kritischetheologie]

5, about caught my reflection in the mirror and/or the stick pins and the cottons?

(fic writer ask meme)

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [insert fic]? Answer it now!

Nobody asked me, when Max won his second title the way he did, whether he's going to have to win a third for it to feel real.

The answer is that I was instantly struck by the image of Seb knocking on the door of Max's hotel room in Suzuka, the night of the race, just to check on him. To tell him that he's sure he'll win a third, and maybe then it'll feel real. He has no doubt that Max will.

And Max only opens the door a crack, a little surprised to see Seb, and he smiles at him, fondly. Seb's had a rough year. Max will miss having him, on the grid, but he understands why he's leaving.

"I feel good," Max tells him. He smiles. "Honestly, Sebastian, I was going to win it in Texas or maybe Mexico, if I did not win it tonight. I don't mind that I had to wait a little bit, before I knew it was official."

And Seb sees something in the slant of his shoulders, maybe, or a gentleness in his jaw, something that wasn't there a year ago, when Max was insisting that he was alright even though the whole world could see that he wasn't.

"You're sure?" Seb asks. "You don't want to talk about it, at all?"

Max shakes his head. "I am actually a little busy, at the moment," he says, and blushes. "But I hope you have a nice night, Seb. Thank you for stopping by."

He shuts the door behind him and turns back towards the bed, the long warm lines of Daniel's tattooed arms, the broad expanse of his bare chest, only a thin cotton sheet covering his lower body.

"What was that about?" Daniel asks, and Max smiles.

"Seb came by to congratulate me for winning," Max says, and then feels himself blush. "I think he was trying to offer to, well, you know. Again."

Daniel pulls him in by the collar of his Red Bull polo. "Aw, baby," he says, "you should have invited him to join us."

[rifleseye]

@aethergate asked

20. A memory of someone who is deceased ( idk how ancient the meme is and i KNOW its april fools bit time but what if im a little curious ... )

EXPERIENCE MEMORIES

Coldsnap is clear in his view as she picks him up from the ground.

He's scuffed his paint, his joints are sore, and he is so young his kibble has only just emerged. He's wide and blocky and struggling to adapt to this world not meant for wide and blocky.

Or maybe it's just this room.

His mentor sighs, though not out of frustration. Her voice is gentle, a stark contrast to how he hears her speak to others. "Slowly, ██████. Your alt-mode has only just emerged."

He, however, is most certainly frustrated with himself. "It should be easier. Transforming is supposed to come naturally to us." He stands on his own two feet now, looking down at them.

Coldsnap gestures for him to join her, sitting down at the bench. He hesitates, but does so. His frustration is visible in the way he huffs once, and then again, and then shifts restlessly from where he sits.

Trying not to cry.

Coldsnap stares at him for a moment before she rests a hand on his shoulder. "We often naturally transform, that is correct. But that does not mean the initial one is easy. There are times... newforges can struggle with it because while their body is designed for it, that does not mean your brain can figure it out. It may take time, but that is not a personal failure, ██████."

"I don't..." he huffs, "My brain works differently."

"Which is fine," his mentor says firmly, "Primus did not give us brain modules in order for us to think the same. Just as he gave us vocalizers to question."

He brings his knees to his chest, folding his arms on top of them and hiding his face away. Coldsnap takes this as a moment to pull him into a side-hug. "There is no need to rush yourself. You will get it in time."

He allows himself to calm in her embrace.

"Are you ready to try again?"

He shakes his head mutely.

"What do you want to do?"

"Mm... starmapping."

"Very well, brightspark."

Coldsnap nods and moves her free hand to take out a dataslate, she pulls up a hologram as specks of light fill the room. They can't see stars from down here, but it's a good enough imitation.

The turquoise of his mentor's forearms almost shine in this light.

[vyrulent]

[ FIVE TOUCHES ] Troll King and Rosalyn

meme || @trashcollected

I.

It hadn't been missed by the young queen as Relish's arm brushed against her shoulder. His touch had not been harsh, of anger, or of desire, yet it had been brought on with a protective nature. Approaching general, who'd once been an enemy of this kingdom, had moved a touch too fast for comfort for any royal to be comfortable with.

Her own hand lifted, grasping gently upon the king's arm in an assuring gentleness. Without speaking, without embarrassing him in front of onlookers, Rosalyn told him that everything was okay. She was safe.

II.

Sex had just been about solidifying their marriage as kings and queens had done countless times before. Touch hadn't been a significant part of a royal marriage from what she had been told. Certainly, Rosalyn had never witnessed any touch of affection between her own parents or even of her grandparents.

Without thought, pinky finger brushed gentle against his own. It seemed the proper time to change things. Everyone pitied her for being the wife of a troll, but things had not been as dire as she'd believed it to be. He was a kind and affectionate husband and fiercely protective. It only seemed fair to show the world that there was a level of true affection between them.

The touch of her pinky against his hand turned into the full grasp of his hand within her tinier one. Certainly, the social circles would be gossiping about how the Wolf Queen openly chose to hold the monstrous hands of the Troll King.

III.

Her deception had been found out. The potion bottle that she'd kept hidden away, the one that kept her from completing the most important action a queen could give to her kingdom, had been discovered.

Yet, he hadn't acted as she had assumed.

His hand was on her own, as if understanding her fears. She was a human woman fearful of what a troll child could do to her.

"You're... you're not angry with me," she asked with confusion held within the resonance of spoken words, hand clasped tighter around his own.

IV.

"Come, Relish," hand reached out to take his much larger hand. Petite hands guided his hand to the roundness of her belly.

There had finally been a true kick, a sign of a warrior life growing within her. Rather it be a boy or girl, this child was a strong one already. After having worried the doctors for so long in not moving, the baby had finally decided to fight back against the barrier around them.

"Do you feel the baby," smiled beamed as she laid his hand at the edge of her belly just as a strong kick was given.

V.

"Fuck you, troll bitch!"

Rosalyn was more than ready to go again. Busted lip and bloodied nose did nothing to stop her from curling her hands into fists once more as she went after the smaller troll queen. She'd grown tired in their bullying, in their talking so harshly about her in the halls.

She'd attempted to be respectable and the better queen, but damn had it felt good when she'd finally got a hold of Dorcas. She'd been successful in getting her on the ground after taking a few hits of her own to the face.

But it had been their shared husband that had pulled her back, that had kept her from going back after the troll bitch. It was his strong hands that gripped her shoulders, that kept her shaking body in place when adrenaline wanted to fuel her forward once again.

"Let me go," demand was yelled at to her husband, at the king, most certainly a no-no among most in the court. Voice was seething in a way no one but Ichabod had ever heard. It was a new side of the granddaughter of Red Riding Hood that few had ever seen. "Let me finish her."

[vuulpecula]

✖ @vulpineobedience inquired: We haven't even set anything up but I'm sending the kiss prompt thing anyway but putting my own spin on it: I want Daryl to kiss Fox's tears away. Like, literally kiss the tears on her cheeks.

meme | accepting

A breeze came down from the north, bringing with it a slight nip in the air. The seasons were changing, summer into autumn, or at least, that is what it seemed like. They had long since lost track of the days, the months, even the years. There were guesses, of course, but no one could be certain. It didn’t matter much to Fox, who knelt in the small garden, pulling medicinal herbs from the ground. There had been the beginnings of a frost that morning and she did not want to risk losing the plants completely with the first full one.

She worked numbly, not really thinking much of anything. It was only another day in the apocalypse, same as the last, and the one before that. The two guards that accompanied her and a few of the others who elected to come help harvest, suddenly stepped forward, pulling her from her mindless stupor. They were looking through their scopes down the hill and she would have written it off as walkers or maybe a deer, except they started talking. ‘They have weapons,’ one said. ‘That one has a crossbow,’ said the other. Fox perked up, pushing herself to stand, raising a hand to block out the rays of the sun beating down on them. Her skin rose in pinpricks.

“Give me your gun,” she wasn’t asking and took it before the guard could answer, raising the scope to peer down at the group of people heading their way. From up on the hill, they had the advantage, but it was clear the others had seen them too. Fox lowered the gun, raised it again, and lowered it, unable to believe what she was seeing. From the distance the way one of the strangers walked had seemed oddly familiar, tugging at her memories from a time long before this. Only when she used the scope did she know for sure who it was and already there were tears in her eyes.

Shoving the gun back to one of the guards, she was running, sprinting down the hill. Ignoring the calls for her to stop and come back, the questions of what she was doing. He was running too. They met in the middle, colliding so hard that they were almost both thrown off balance. By then her breath was a sob at the back of her throat. “You’re alive,” she choked out, holding Daryl tightly against her. Hands moving as if at any moment he was going to disappear, and she needed to touch every part of him to keep him there. “You’re alive,” she repeated, hardly able to see him through all the tears that fell. Released from a body that had been coiled so tightly that tears had never been able to fall before then. For the first time since the whole damn world ended, she felt safe, and it undid her. She was crying and laughing and pressing kisses against his cheek, holding onto him so tightly she could feel their ribs practically slotting together.

“Tell me this is real,” Fox whispered, holding his face as he held hers. “Promise me this is real.” Everyone before was dead or assumed dead. There was no one, no one that she knew or had known. It was him, only him, and they had found each other again. After all this time.

It was his mouth on her skin that had her crying again, heavy tears falling against his lips that he kissed away as if he was parched, and they were nothing more than rain. Noses bumping as he moved from cheek to cheek, impossibly gentle compared to the roughness of the skin of his hands. There was dirt on her face, she knew, just as she knew she must have looked terrible bawling her eyes out in front of him. Hiccuping as her lungs struggled to fill between each shaking sob, knocking against his nose with her own as she heaved and for one, impossibly short moment, their lips brushed against each other as he passed to her other cheek, again kissing away the tears that kept flowing, keeping her from drowning in them.  

[celestialking]

She's a runner, She's a trackstar

◇ NSFW 18+ only ◇ Minors/Ageless blogs DNI ◇ You will be blocked ◇

Pairing: manhunt!Sapnap , afab!reader

Written: July 24, 2022

Warnings: afab, humiliation, predator/chase, hand on throat, 

A/N: shut up I named it that for the meme T^T. This one is rusheddd cause I held onto it for so long and needed to finish it cause I have so many draftssssss. mmmmm i dislike this one

You kicked the dirt half-heartedly. "Sooo no more manhunts," you sighed, shoving your pockets. 

Sapnap hummed, twirling his ax off to the side. Everyone else had already gone away leaving just you and your fellow hunter. "I'm bored. Any ideas? Or are you just going to leave and go back to the real world?"

A sudden sharp noise made you look over at him, scared that he had dropped the diamond blade and hurt himself. Instead, he was clasping it tightly, staring at you in such a way that made you tremble. He was staring at you like you were prey. "Let's have our own manhunt, this time I'll hunt you," he grinned. 

"Hunt- hunt me? Why can't I hunt you?" You asked, startled.

"I'm too good," Sapnap puffed his chest out. "Besides I really like chasing not being chased," 

You pursed your lips. "Would there be a reward at the end? Or is it just for fun?" 

Sapnap waved his hand dismissively. "Eh we'll decide my reward when I win," you raised an eyebrow. 

"You mean when I win?" 

"So you're in?" 

"Yeah. Get Callahan back in here, I'm sure he knows a few seeds off the top of his head," 

Your silent reindeer-like friend did know of a few seeds. "I can't stay, I have something else I'm doing so hopefully the server stays steady," he apologized in-game chat. You both were whisked away to a new world, Callahan tossed a compass to sapnap before leaving wordlessly. 

"Sick, this one points to you,"

"Cool" you mumbled. You were far too busy taking in your surroundings. Sapnap was smarter than you gave him credit for. And you weren't nearly as good as Dream. You couldn't think up smart plans other than reusing things he's used against you. "Any rules?" 

"Anything we've banned for Dream you can't do either," in that case there was only one other thing you could use, speed. You were faster than Sapnap or at least you were sure you were. "Take your time," Sapnap hummed, interrupting your thoughts. 

Right. The manhunt couldn't start until you ran. Well, the badlands didn't look too good so you'd take your chances with the jungle. 

You sprinted into the lush green listening as there was no hesitation on Sapnaps part. In fact, he seemed to think you'd go this way, already he was one step ahead. You ducked and weaved through the vines and darkness of the jungle. 

Sapnap couldn't help but let a grin overtake his lips. His eyes were glued to you, not once losing sight. This was going to be all sorts of fun. Glancing back quickly you realized he was gone, had you really outrun him? He was also unnaturally quiet. 

"Sapnap?" 

Silence. 

Your heart pounded in your throat. You didn't think being hunted would feel like this. Having always been a hunter you had always felt the exhilaration of chasing not being chased. Had to keep moving though. 

While he had disappeared you began gathering wood and running towards a nearby village. "Boo," a voice whispered.

Sapnap's hand barely grasped your wrist, missing just slightly. You yelped, bolting off again. He had come out of nowhere. Had Sapnap been watching you the entire time? 

He was so different hunting you than Dream. Sapnap was truly hunting you like prey. Like he couldn't wait to sink his teeth into you. Your name rolled off his tongue softly and smoothly. A gentle coo that was meant to lure you in. You couldn't seem to shake him. He had to get off your tail at some point right? He couldn't get an advantage if he didn't advance in weaponry. You stood behind a villager's house catching your breath. 

This was Sapnap's element, whisking through trees and hunting- No stalking his prey; creeping up on them when they are at their weakest. Admittedly he had been a hunter longer than you but you didn't think the experience gap was that large between you two. 

You opened your eyes. "Gotcha," you ducked under his arm. How was he getting the drop on you? You stumbled behind him and ran for the abandoned nether portal. There was a piece missing and you just so happened to have gotten one from the blacksmith. 

This Sapnap was calm and collected, cornering you as if he were playing with his food. Trapping you and letting you go. It was a game of cat and mouse now. He was a fox and you were a measly "bunny," he chuckled behind you. 

"Slow down there sweetheart, you know I'll win," you completed the portal and jumped through. He would be behind you in an instant but you didn't have time to think about that. 

You had spawned on the very edge of the fortress, high above the lava. Just as you stumbled away from the molten liquid a hand grabbed your wrist, tossing you to the ground gently. Sapnap had you pinned against the ground with no way of wiggling free. 

"I win," he breathed out. You bucked against him, attempting to push him off but to no avail. You stopped squirming, admitting defeat. Your heavy breaths refusing to slow down. 

Suddenly you coughed awkwardly as something came to your realization. "Sap," you blushed. "Got a little worked up did you?" 

His clothed cock was hard and pressing up against your thigh. "Shut up," he snapped. "I bet if I yank those pants off you're soaked," he retorted. 

"Why don't you find out," you shot back. 

Sapnap froze looking down at you, splayed against the ground all at his mercy. He hadn't expected you to respond that way. Both of you were still heavily breathing from the chase, pure adrenaline pumping through you. 

"Don't mind if I do," he grinned sharply, snapping out of his shock. His fingers grasped your pants tugging them off along with your underwear. "Fucking filthy," he growled as he was proved correct. "Turned on from being hunted like prey," 

You whined letting him move you around as he pleased. Sapnap's hands gripped your thighs holding them open. "Do you like it when I tell you that?" He said softly, looking up at you with dark eyes. "Tell you how fucking dirty you are?" 

You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you, nodding as you squirmed in his grip. "Don't worry sweetheart, I liked it too," he spoke pressing kisses on your thigh. "Hunting you down, I love the chase," slowly he sucked and nipped. He couldn't help biting into the plush of your thighs. "Loved watching your little doe eyes fill with fear when I got near," Sapnap sat up, watching you drink in every word he spoke. “The way your breath hitched when you felt me grasp you," 

His hand wrapped around your throat gently holding you there. It was sort of grounding "What do you want first hm?" 

You were trembling with anticipation. You had thought he might use his mouth but was sorely disappointed when he sat up. Your fingers brushed over your own lips. "You- can, can you use your mouth?" You choked out. 

Sapnap chuckled. "Where? Here?" He poked your chest gently. 

"Here?" His thumb wiped over your lip. 

You shook your head. 

"Here?" He cupped between your legs. "Want my mouth on your pretty little cunt?" he shifted down to put his face between your legs. "Okay sweetheart," his tongue dipped into your dripping core, eager to get a taste. 

Sapnap didn't hold back, lapping against you. Your thighs began to feel the slight burn from his beard making you squirm more. Your back arched as you let out soft noises for him. Sapnap himself groaned as your fingers found their way into his hair, tugging and pulling. His tongue teased your clit as he began to push a finger or two in. 

"Gotta hurry up hun, Dream's expecting me soon, just a quickie. You visit and I'll give you the best night of your life," a little knot of pleasure was heating up in your stomach. The cries of his name got louder and louder until- He chuckled pulling away. 

You whined frustrated. "Why?" 

"My reward sweetheart, you can cum soon, don't worry," Sapnap didn't bother removing much of his clothing. Just enough for him to be able to fuck you. "Keep your eyes on me," he spoke lowly as he tapped his cock against your hole. 

You made eye contact just as Sapnap began pushing in. "Holy shit," he gasped when he was fully in. The way your walls gripped around Sap had him dizzy. His thrusts started slow but began to build speed quickly. You gripped his forearms, eyes barely open. "Don't close them," Sap warned with harsh thrusts. 

He could hardly keep his eyes open, however. You just felt so damn good. 

Sapnap groaned fucking into you as if his life counted on it. "We'll do this again," he moaned. 

"Let you run. Next time I'll really try. Tie you up n fuck you against the nearest tree," his words twisted your stomach. 

"Think Dream n George would join? Maybe even Sam?" your nails dug into his forearms making him hiss. The grip on your hips was bruising as he sped up impossibly fast. Sapnap's hips now pistoning into you. 

The thought of being hunted by all of them both terrified and excited you. "Fucking feel so good sugar," with every breath he took it was a sinful mix of words bringing you closer and closer to your end. 

"S-sap," he had long forgotten about making you keep your eyes open, a thumb dropping to catch your clit in a rough circle. 

"Need- gonna-" you could barely speak between moans. 

He moaned lowly as you fluttered around him. "Fuck sugar," he choked. You came around him, practically going limp as he fucked you through your orgasm. 

The chase between you had worked both of you up. The raven-haired above you wasn't far behind. Whining he filled you up, giving a few more deep thrusts as he did. If this was a quickie you couldn't wait to see what would happen when you came to visit Sapnap next month. Slowly he pulled out watching a little bit of cum drip out. 

"What would you want if you won," he asked quietly. 

"I don't know," you whined, throwing an arm over your face. "Probably to help edit my next 2 videos. Just- clean me up," you complained. 

"With pleasure," he purred before moving his face between your thighs. Dream was going to have to wait just a bit longer. 

Reminder: DNI = Do Not Interact

If you are a Minor/Ageless blog, Do not follow. Do not comment. Do not reblog. Do not like. DO NOT INTERACT.

Either add your age to your bio/pinned, message me in private, or DNI.

[miomines]

maternal instincts

villain/impostor au yet again but this time with a different oc.

dragon adeptus adopts injured child(to her at least) and will later find out, not in this piece, that she adopted the creator. all she knows is that there's an injured child in her house and morax and barbatos have contributed to the hurt. meili is like that one meme where it's like. "im a healer but.." loads gun

u are now a dragon adeptus' child. she will now protect u with her life.

interlude | part 2 | interlude 2 | part 3

The pain is what you first notice. It clings to you as you emerge from your unconscious state. You let out a small sound of pain as you attempt to become aware of your surroundings. You try to recall what caused this pain.

"--over there!"

Running desperately, Wuwang Hill, The Millelith, accused of a crime, being attacked, the Creator, Zhongli, Venti, the Knights of Favonius, constantly on the move, fear, fear, fear, so much fear. Don't wanna die, don't wanna die don't wanna die don't wanna die don't wanna die---

An impostor, you remember, branded guilty of a crime for simply existing. You were excited to be in Teyvat and to meet your favourite characters, only for you to be hunted down like prey. Nowhere was safe and you didn't want to risk going to Inazuma (middle of the ocean, far away from the mainland. would be hard to escape if they deem you an impostor too). You just simply ran, desperately hoping to live another day.

Your body ached but it hurt less than it did before you passed out. You curl up on your side, your body protesting at your motions and squeeze your eyes shut. Upset at the world, upset at the archons, upset at the so-called Creator. It never ends. It'll never end, will it?

Your depressive episode gets interrupted, a quick knock cutting through your thoughts. You don't even get a chance to respond before the door opens and you simply curl up further. Only a feeling of resignation to your fate fills you.

The person who entered says nothing, humming a quiet tune as they make their way across the room. You can hear them pull the curtains away and then open a window before they make their way towards you. You can't help but tense.

Whatever you expected, it wasn't a gentle hand on the top of your head as they tentatively sit on the edge of the bed. They say nothing and you, taking the risk, hesitantly opening your eyes.

The person before you is not someone you've ever seen in game before.  She's a beautiful woman, dark brown hair falling down in waves and the horns on her head only add curiosity. She looks at you, dark grey eyes that shine with concern. Her gaze softens as you look at her, smiling gently.

"How are you feeling, little one?" She asks as she starts to run her fingers through your hair. You can't help but relax into the comforting motions. "You were quite injured when I found you. Do you not have anyone to help you?"

You shake your head slowly, staring at her. She clicks her tongue and frowns, cupping your face into her hands. "Well that just won't do," she says. Something in her eyes scream determination. "You will stay here, little one. I will take care of you. Once you are healed, we can figure out what to do."

There's something about her that tells you that you can trust her. Maybe it's her gentle nature, the way she ran her fingers through your hair, the way she cups your face gently as if she didn't want to break you. Maybe it was just you latching on to the first person who treated you kindly since you arrived. Nonetheless, you nod and she smiles.

"My name is Meili," she introduces herself. She leans back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I live alone so you won't be bothered, little one. My daughter is off to Snezhnaya and won't be back to visit for months, most likely. We are near Qingce Village but the people don't look for me most days and I'll be sure to lead them away from you."

Meili smiles and stands, crossing the room to gather a tray you didn't realize was here. She doesn't expect you to talk and for that, you're thankful. You weren't sure if you would be able to get the words out even if you tried. Meili hums another tune as she returns to your bedside, the tray settled on the nightstand next to you.

"Can you sit up for me, little one?" She asks. You blink a few times before the words truly register. You push yourself up, wincing at the ache before settling into a seated position. You lean against the pillows as she takes hold of your arm.

Meili continues to hum even as she stares at your bandaged wounds with determination. Her eyes flash a quick gold colour but the sense of calmness that covers you distracts you from thinking about it. She runs a fingertip along your skin, brushing against the bandages and you're surprised to notice that your aches lessen.

She looks up at you and simply chuckles. "Healing is my speciality," she hums. "I just needed you awake just so I could be aware if anything went wrong." Meili taps the tip of your nose and turns to the tray. She picks up a small vial filled with a deep blue liquid. It shines as it sloshes around and you take it into your hands when she gives it to you.

"It's a purifier, a cleanser. You still have elemental residue on you, little one. It'll influence your healing process. It will get rid of the residue," Meili explains. Her voice is even, calm and it's soothing to listen to. When she turns back to the tray, you hesitate for a moment before you down the vial.

If she wished to harm you, she could've done so on numerous occasions.

She hands you a bowl of rice, which you start to eat with no hesitation. Even if some parts of you are still wary, it doesn't matter. It's food and it's actually cooked. You haven't had a proper meal since you've arrived. Meili simply smiles as you eat, only offering you a glass of water which you quickly down.

"One would think you had not eaten for days, little one," she jokes. You pause and look up at her. It was a joke but it's not like she's wrong. You make a face and shake your head, turning your attention back to your food. Meili remains silent, however she does step closer to place a comforting hand against your shoulders.

Silence hangs over the room but it's not an uncomfortable one. She takes the empty bowl from your hands and places everything back onto the tray. You lay back down, content to just doze and finally rest for once.

"Little one," Meili starts, turning her head to look at you. At your questioning look she continues, "The Millelith were the ones to do this to you, yes? I didn't see it first hand but there were more around lately.."

Maybe not all of them were from the Millelith but… You nod and she narrows her eyes and huffs. She looks offended on your behalf.

"Ridiculous," she mutters and glares out the window. "What has this nation gone to? You do not deserve this, little one," she turns to you. "This will not stand and I will go to Morax himself if-"

"No!"

You both startle and you shrink back at her questioning gaze. You place your hands on your neck, looking towards the wall.

"Little one?" She prods gently as she sits down on the edge of the bed once more.

"Zhongli," you croak out. "Crimes of… impersonation against the div- of the--"

"Of the Divine Creator," she finishes, her voice lowered to a whisper. "Oh, little one…. Morax himself has hurt you." Meili's expression is sad but you can see a hidden hint of anger. "What of Barbatos?"

You shake your head.

"Imbeciles," Meili hisses with such ferocity that you startle. "You are a child. To both them and to me. You have simply existed and then to be deemed a criminal? Preposterous."

She gathers your hands into hers, squeezing them gently. Meili stares into your eyes, her gaze determined, sad, but loving. "You will be safe with me. I will protect you like I would my own child. If Morax or Barbatos come for you, I will deal with them personally."

Meili leans back and grins, her teeth sharp and her eyes alight with righteous fury. "I specialize in healing but I did not fight in the Archon War for nothing." She turns her head to stare out the window. Meili speaks as if the archons themselves can hear her.

"You do not take from a dragon's hoard without consequences. You do not harm a child without dealing with the mother's rage." She squeezes your hands without looking and the pressure is comforting. "You are mine now and I will keep you safe, little one. Those fools will underestimate me but I have known them for too long."

A dragon…. You glance up to her horns. That makes sense.. When she turns back at you, she's still trembling from anger. She does not direct any of that to you. You have a feeling she'll go out to find Zhongli and Venti soon enough.

Meili tugs the blanket closer to you and kisses your forehead. You don't get a chance to even object even if you wanted to because she takes the tray and quickly starts to make her way out. "Rest, my dear." She turns at the doorway to glance back at you. "I will protect you."

She closes the door behind her as she leaves. You listen to her footsteps fade. Teyvat may hunt you down but you have no doubts that Meili will raise hell to protect you. Impostor or not, she has deemed you her child and after the cruelty you have experienced… Perhaps being adopted by a dragon isn't the worst thing that could happen.

[moonlight-escapade]

Confessions - Professor Hiddleston Fic (One Shot)

Hey everyone! This is a one shot because I saw an amazing Professor Hiddleston fic on tiktok by @plushkittn and had to make something. I hope you enjoy a bit of something different from our regularly scheduled fic hehe. 

Synopsis: (Y/N) bombed her presentation. Her stupid ass boyfriend has been destroying her sense of self-worth and catapulting her into spells of major anxiety. Her favorite Professor runs into her as she’s trying to compose herself, and confessions are made by both.

TW: Fluff!, anxiety, stupid boyfriends, Professor/Student relationship. A gentle, calming fic. 

What the hell just happened?

You held back your tears as hard as you could before excusing yourself at the end of your presentation and rushing out the door.

What the hell was that!

You were so good at giving presentations! You were totally prepared too. You’d made your slideshow perfect, even used memes to insert some humor into the project that you knew your classmates would enjoy.

So why did you literally have a panic attack the second it started?

It was his fault. Your stupid whatever he was… boyfriend? It seemed a joke to call him that now. He only seemed to want you when it was convenient for him. And yet here you were, gladly running at his every beck and call because of what? Some stupid desire to be wanted?

You walk down the corridor to the lobby, hurriedly crossing to the girls restroom when you suddenly bumped into someone.

“Oh.. sorry—“ your breath hitches. When you look up, you’re met with the comforting blue eyes of your favorite professor.

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” He asks, placing a hand on your upper arm in support. You nod and smile, “Um, no… not really but it’ll be okay,” you assure him, moving to walk to the restroom. 

God dammit as if you weren’t already embarrassed enough.

But he places another hand around your arm and moves in front of you. His expression is full with worry and something you couldn’t quite decipher… maybe just your imagination… your mind was feeling pretty scrambled.

“Are you sure?” He asks again. His voice is warm and comforting… and something about it strikes you just the right way. Suddenly you can’t hold back the ragged sob you’d been holding down from the moment you faced the class to present.

You feel the dam of your heart break and look up at him, shaking your head. “I am so alone,” you admit over tears. His gaze on you is so direct and full with worry that you suddenly feel yourself blush. You quickly cover your face with your hands, hiding behind your hair as much as you can.

“Hey, it’s okay, come now,” you feel yourself being pressed into Professor Hiddleston’s side, and allow him to lead you forward.

“I’m here for you, (Y/N),” he assures you. You follow him over towards the elevators, trying to hold back sobs yet failing miserably. 

“It’s okay, (Y/N), you can let it out,” he says, rubbing your shoulder assuringly. Hearing him say that is almost enough to totally let go, but you refuse to let yourself completely break down in front of him.

As the elevator doors close, you hear him sigh. You take a peek up at him and notice his jaw tensing… he looks enraptured in thought. You can hardly think about how you must be disrupting his day… right now things are just too fragile in the world around you and… you needed him.

The elevator doors open and you allow Professor Hiddleston to lead you toward his office. The familiar scent of him envelops you as you cross the threshold into his room. Something about the warm brown tones of wood and leather make the world feel safer. He leads you towards a very comfortable couch, where a window overlooks the school grounds against raindrops that trickle down the glass.

“Would you like some tea?” He asks after helping you sit down. “Oh, no thank you,” you say. His eyes are so blue in the gloomy light, you find yourself holding onto his gaze longer than you should. You hear him chuckle softly, “I’ll make some anyway… you must never underestimate the soothing power of chamomile and ginger,” he says standing.

You watch him stand then turn your gaze to stare out the window, happy to be transported to this little nook of warmth for the moment. “Would you like to talk about what happened?” he asks as he turns his electric kettle on. He walks back over to you, taking a seat beside you on the couch. He offers you a blanket which you gladly accept. You curl your legs underneath yourself and try to fix your hair before turning to speak to him again.

“I… I started panicking as I was giving my presentation. I’ve never felt panic in a situation like that before.” You admit to him. He stays silent, allowing you to continue.

“I just feel like... I’ve been put on hold…” you say, fiddling with a loose thread in the blanket over you.

“How do you mean?” He asks, offering you the time you need to find the words.

“My… well, I don’t know what to call him…”

“Your boyfriend,” he says with distaste. You look up at him and see his jaw tense again. 

“I’m not even sure that’s what he is…” you say to him. He looks back at you, his gaze pointed and direct. “He’s an ass,” he says.

You search his eyes, half wanting to hear more, half afraid to hear it. 

“(Y/N), you make witchcraft with your words,” he says. “The unspoken world you are able to put down on paper is… it’s breathtaking.”

You feel yourself blush and pull your legs closer to you. “Th… thank you,” you mumble, keeping your gaze down.

“I’ve seen you with him,” he says. Your eyes flicker up to his face in surprise, but he continues, staring out the window. “There was a day I saw you two walking… I knew you wanted to hold his hand,” he says, raising his own hand to adjust his glasses, “the way he disregarded you maddened me.”

You feel your heart quickening, you had no idea what to say. Maddened him?

It was true that there was always a certain chemistry between you and Professor Hiddleston. You tried to downplay it when you felt it… thinking it was merely a chemistry between writers. He was your Professor after all. He saw the most intimate thoughts you had… but a part of you may have taken advantage of that. There wasn’t anyone else for you to talk to. You found it hard to make friends… and your boyfriend and his friends weren’t exactly confidants to you. Your mom and dad didn’t really talk to you much… they weren’t happy with your change of major. You’d been accepted to the university for a business degree, but after taking a course in creative writing with Professor Hiddleston… you felt a spark that you could not ignore. You’d found your passion… and someone who saw it in you. 

The situation you were in now didn’t necessarily feel awkward… as you’d formed a relationship with Professor Hiddleston since your first year. He was someone you felt safe with. He was really the only thing you had in the sense of an anchor in this world. And maybe… maybe throughout all these years… all the papers and stories you wrote were sort of… for him.

You remembered back on an assignment in which you had to re-write a fairytale based on your life experiences. You’d decided to write yours on Snow White. Instead of seven dwarves, seven friends used you as their emotional sponge. Instead of a wicked witch, a warlock brought an enchanted apple that promised to grant Snow White what she wanted most; to be seen. There was a note on the day he returned our papers. You still have it taped on my dorm mirror.

“Who do you want to be, (Y/N)?”

You look up, brought back from your thoughts into the room again.

“Have you found an answer yet?” he asks.

You smile, shaking your head. “I think I’m even farther from finding it than I was two years ago.”

The kettle clicks and the water boils rapidly. He stands, moving to prepare two cups of tea before sitting back down. 

“Allow me?” he asks, prepared to add sugar to your cup. You nod, thanking him with a smile.

“I think you’re running from your truth, (Y/N),” he says outright. You stare at him, watching him prepare your tea with calm and ease. 

“How?” you ask him. He hands you a cup, warning you it’s hot. 

“By trying to be the very thing you aren’t in your writing: simple,” he says.

“I... I’ve never thought I was a very complicated person...” you say, unsure how to respond to his comment. You’d always considered yourself a simple person... hell, you’d settled for nearly everything in your life aside from your change of degree. Complicated was never a word you’d heard used to describe you. 

“No, you’re not complicated, you’re complex.” He places his tea down and turns his body towards you. “That’s what I see.” 

“What do you see?” you ask.

His hand reaches up, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You hold your breath, feeling dry tears tighten at your cheeks as you stare up at him. He leans forward, and suddenly the world is spinning around you. Your head is bobbing on a spring and your heart is pounding out of your chest.

“I see you, (Y/N),” he whispers, his eyes on yours, then your lips. Without a thought, you lean in to kiss him, feeling so much… feeling everything. It was the first kiss, the first real kiss... for someone you truly wanted to kiss. And the difference was everything. You let him pull you closer, and allowed yourself to crawl into his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist and you couldn’t help the surprised tears that fell from your eyes as you pulled away to look at him.

“Is this alright?” He asks. You nod and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him close. “Yes, yes it is.”

His scent, mint and wool, is so comforting. So warm. You cuddle into his chest, letting him run his fingers through your hair. The sound of the rain pattering against the window and his slowing heavy breaths is all there is.

“What if I told you this is what I wanted to be…” you tell him softly. Immediately your heart flips… too late to take it back now. He reaches his fingers underneath your chin, tilting your gaze up to his.

“And what would that be?” He speaks in that deep elegant voice of his. You are all too aware of his hands everywhere now… his hand around your waist, the one underneath your chin. How many times had you dreamt of this moment? If you could lean into him forever you would.

With a breath, you say what you’ve wanted to say for the past year. “Yours.”

He leans down to kiss you. It’s soft and slow… and there are a dozen stars behind your eyelids as you become hyper aware of everything about him touching every inch of you.

He pulls away to press his forehead against yours, “then I would say you wouldn’t need an apple to make that wish come true.”

You take his hand in yours, fiddling with his fingers, tracing his nails and knuckles with the tip of your thumb.

“(Y/N), if you knew how deeply I’ve fallen for you in the past few years you’ve been in my class… I never imagined in my first year as a Professor I would meet someone like you. Someone I’ve been searching for my whole life.”

You look up at him, tears filling your eyes. “Don’t cry now, darling,” he says, brushing a finger underneath your eye.

“They’re happy tears,” you say with a soft smile. “My wish came true.”

He smiles and places a hand on your cheek, leaning in close, his lips inches away from yours.

“Then allow me give the Princess her true loves kiss.”

[needleandhammer]

Prism

Pairing: Robert Pronge x Reader; featuring Jake Jensen

Warnings: 18+ only, dark fic, non-con touch, kidnapping, it's Freezy so yeah

Notes: Happy spooky season! I cannot believe the writers I am following have led me onto the Freezy Train 😳

For a year, you worked alongside Jake. He came through your office suite to set up new computers one morning. Designated the unofficial tech responder, you reached out to him often, asked questions politely and endlessly until he resigned himself to visiting your office multiple times per week. Somehow, the two of you ended up having lunch together as he listened to you grumble about coworkers adverse to seeking technological solutions on their own. Then going to happy hour together. Then texting each other; Jake followed your lead until the two of you could speak in memes and emojis.

Your friend abruptly left his job a few months ago. With no response to your text messages, you swallowed down the disappointment of losing touch with a friend when adulting kept your circle so small already. You only hoped he was okay.

Now, after a late night at the office, your coworker Carter lies unconscious in your peripheral. The person responsible for knocking out Carter stalks toward you. You’re scrambling around your desk trying to keep distance between him and you, this stranger with scraggly hair hanging over a pair of thick spectacles.

You’re so startled, mind trying to salvage some kind of escape plan that you haven’t even tried yelling for help. You hurl a solid glass paperweight at him. Air rushes up your throat – a scream working its way out when you see him dodge and strike forward at you. His hands circle your wrist, you’re yanked against him and a painful blow to the base of your neck sends you sinking into blackness.

---

You wake with a start. Where are you?

Your hands roam, grasping lightly across your body in search of any new injuries while you breathe past the lingering pain at the back of your head. At least it wasn’t bleeding. Assured that you were able to stand and move with relative ease, you’re on your feet and tiptoeing to the door of the bedroom. Your shoes are gone, dammit.

You swallow hard, breathing deep against grogginess and the aching pulse at the base of your skull. That fucker isn’t here so you need to act.

Go out that door.

Wait. You need something. A weapon. Anything.

A shaky breath forces your stark fear at bay as you look around the room. You make it to the open closet door.

A pink color halts you physically and mentally. Pink. You collapse to your knees and grasp at the cotton fabric. The word printed on the pink shirt triggers a breathless sob that you can’t control.

Petunias

Oh gods, did this deranged man kidnap Jake too? What can he possibly want with you and your friend? Is Jake in some kind of trouble? Questions bombard your mind, tangling into nothing that makes sense. Your head aches. Your limbs feel weak. Has it been long enough that your body has weakened from lack of nourishment?

Beneath another shirt, you discover a scraggly object. It’s chestnut colored, wavy strands that sends a creeping shivering down your spine. You quickly drop the Petunias t-shirt over it, as if to hide some vile creature from sight, and peer around the room again.

Damn it. No light décor or metal objects you can arm yourself with. You’ll have to be quick.

The door gives a creak when you swing it open, revealing a small galley kitchen.

Your heart skips – dread douses you – you freeze when you see the figure standing opposite you at the far end of this small building. He turns, arms falling from the curtained window, to look at you.

You reel backward; your hands reach and claw for something, anything that might help you in this horrible circumstance.

Right back where you started. You made it barely a foot out of your prison.

Your captor descends upon you. You shriek, push and shove against him but his weight follows you, presses you down on the bed.

His palm stifles your cries while he easily restrains you.

“Awake are we?”

You shake your head. You don’t want to hear his voice. You close your eyes. You don’t want to look at him – afraid that your eyes are deceiving you.

He tsks. “Don’t be a brat. We can make this part quick.”

Growling, you shake his hand away and snap at him. “What the fuck are you talking about? Let me go.”

He scoffs at the additional impolite names you call him.

Panting, you glare at him. “What do you want?”

“You gonna play nice?”

You try to headbutt him.

He sighs in irritation.

Your wrists are snuggly wrapped and tied to one bed post. You lean away from him as much as possible where you sit on a corner of the mattress, cutting him with a glare.

He still hasn’t answered you. That cold dread weighs down in your gut as you force another question out.

“What did you do to Jake?”

“Jake?” His smile grows.

“Don’t play with me! That’s his shirt. He – he has a family. His sister and niece, they’re…” Your words die on your lips as he starts laughing.

“Oh, sugar,” he says with a fond look your way. “Time to break the bad news to you. Your buddy Jake is…Well, you wanna take a guess?”

“You hurt him?”

The cold smile does not waver. You swallow down the lump in your throat. You already know the answer.

“C’mon. Don’t leave me hanging,” he purrs at you, waiting for your next guess.

You’re not ready to accept it, despite the tangible evidence in front of you. Despite the bright t-shirt lying in the closet. Covering the brunette wig. It can’t be true.

This man’s face, his nose, his lips. You feel like you’re going mad as you keep being pulled back to those blue eyes. The glasses are gone; you can see his full brows, the aquamarine of his irises. That laugh that sounded wrong, even though the tenor flows through you in familiar waves.

His hair is now a natural deep brown. It's shorter, lacking the gel that previously held it up in blonde spikes. The wig must have just been a precaution for when he showed up at your office. And his facial hair is grown out more evenly and that alone could have transformed the man you thought you knew.

He disappeared months ago.

You study his eyes – you know their exact color – and recognize the mirth glinting beneath dark lashes. But your heart starts racing when his signature crooked smile doesn’t appear. Instead, a hard smirk twists his face into a stranger.

“Jake…” Maybe you hope invoking his name as you know it will make this all go away - will make the world make sense again. Maybe you want to cling to an impossible salvation.

He scoffs softly, a quiet murmur of your name on his lips, almost remorseful. Almost.

“The name’s Robert.”

Gone is the awkward, clumsy colleague you had grown close to. The man you formed a slow companionship with during late office hours sharing fast food while ranting about administration or complaining about the local asshole that stood at the corner of your block shouting right-wing rhetoric to people trying to get to work.

Gone is Jake Jensen, the cute nerd you called friend.

Robert Pronge closes in, looms before you. His fingers skim your jawline before he grips your face tight, deliberate.

“I couldn’t leave you behind,” he says, dipping even closer so his lips graze your cheek. You grow stiff at the gentle affection. His grip loosens enough that you can drop your gaze.

“I…d-don’t know you.” You don’t know this man. “I don’t.”

Robert watches as you press your forehead to your hands. He supposes it’s normal - you haven’t arrived at acceptance of reality yet. Your frame clenches with stress, the physiological response to danger. Robert has witnessed this countless times with countless hits.

A breathy chuckle tickles your skin. He knew you well enough at this point. “You’re a smart one, sugar.”

“No, no, no…”

“And you know now that ole Jake Jensen. Never existed.”

Faced with this man’s remorseless confession, you steel yourself for the inevitable.

“Are you – are you going to kill me?” You raise your eyes. You'll look at this man's face one last time, you won't be deceived in your final moments.

That dark chuckle returns.

“You think I risked showing up in town just for a quick kill?"

He cages you in, enclosing you between arms thick with muscle.

"No, sugar. Wouldn’t wanna waste a sweet thing like you.”

His mouth is on yours and for several seconds, the heated, hungry pressure stuns you. Confuses you. You squawk at the sensation of him probing for a deeper taste, and start twisting out of his hold.

Strong fingers tighten in your hair and make you whimper in pain, stilling enough for his tongue to delve into your mouth.

A quiet moan of satisfaction rumbles through Robert when he accesses the hot taste of you for the first time.

Robert decided long ago. Once his mask is peeled back – that blonde, chirpy mask – he’s taking you as his. And he’ll make sure you get to know the real him intimately.

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

A/N: Hurrah! I have been wanting to write a Jekyll and Hyde inspired fic for a while. Tis the season and all, so I present to you all: "Jensen and Pronge." muahahaha. I am trying to plan this out as a multipart fic. 😏 I'm gonna try to make this soft!dark bc that's the kind of shit I'm into.

[elysianslove]

cheering you up ; haikyuu boys

synopsis; different ways the haikyuu boys care for you and cheer you up when you’re sad

pairings; karasuno x reader, nekoma x reader, aoba johsai x reader, fukurodani x reader, shiratorizawa x reader, inarizaki x reader

genre; fluff

warnings; none probably a bunch of mistakes lmfao

note; i had to repost this like 3 times rip. anyways, im sorry for not adding inarizaki on my last one jbshds but they’re here now!!

karasuno ━━

sugawara koshi; i definitely think he's so in tune with you, and your emotions. he learns your cues very well, and knows every little thing about you that there is to learn. if you're having a bad day, he'll notice right away. he won't comment on it though. all he'll do is these little things to try to cheer you up, but it's going to be very subtle. he'll let u rest ur head on his shoulder, run his fingers through ur hair. he'll sneakily buy u ur favorite snack. doesn't bring anything up until you do. ends the day with cuddles and a chick flick.

sawamura daichi; he notices but he doesn't really know how to react. not because he doesn't know what to do, but because he doesn't want to trigger you or deepen your sadness in any way. he's very careful with you. if it's something throughout the day, he's very quiet and tender with you, just silently lets you rest your head against his chest and rubs your back/arm tenderly. as you're walking home he asks if you want to talk about it, and reminds you that it's good to, but it's also okay if you don't want to.

nishinoya yuu; not a single sad moment with mr noya here. seriously you cannot breathe. ok but in all honesty, when you're sad. he's sad. sends you memes, and you'll be laughing at them with tears streaming down your face because you don't really know what you're feeling anymore. he does a lot of tiktok trends with you, any of the couple ones. grabs your faces and ,,, smooch all over. until you have no choice but to laugh. if you want to cry even more, he'll watch the notebook and the vow a thousand times over, and be a sobbing mess next to you. just don't tell the guys okay? <3

kageyama tobio; he's so.   bad. at this please help him. like he can tell ur sad, bc he's v good at reading people. but like. what the fuck is he supposed to do. anyways. when u two get to be alone and he kinda notices how quiet you are, he just nudges you slightly, and pulls you to him. it's easier to talk to you, he's calmer, when he can't directly look at you. when he feels you start to shake in his arms, feels the wet tears down your cheeks as you start to sob in his arms, his heart kinda breaks. all he can do is hold you, but it's what you need. and he'll listen too, if that's what you need as well.

tsukishima kei; i think he notices, but doesn't bring it up at all. the way he goes about it is he'll tease you to try and bring a smile on your face. because this is tsukki, and you know him well enough, you know the truth behind his jabs, enough to appreciate them. if it doesn't work, he'll just start to make fun of people in front of you, pointing random people out with you and just being like "wanna bet on what's making their relationship fall apart" this sadist i stg. like suga, he subtly makes you feel better until you yourself approach him about whatever's upsetting. actually gives 10/10 advice bc he's v honest.

asahi azumane; he's so empathetic oh my god bruh. notices immediately. "baby what's got u so upset" w a big pout on his face and when u just mumble "nothin" so low he barely catches it and instead throw yourself into his arms, he gives you a big, certified asahi bear hug. doesn't leave your side at all. constantly mutters sweet nothings and encouragements. if you do the bare minimum like make it through class he'll meet you after and be all "im so proud of my pretty baby". cuddles all day. all night. he's not very good at advice but he is the best listener !!! so attentive and you'll feel a huge weight lifted.

tanaka ryunosuke; "aight who do i need to jump" type beat. u love him so much though. that one sentence and sentiment already has you feeling better. immediately hugs you so tight, borderline suffocating you. "wanna ditch school". 100% willing to do so. he doesn't really know whether to approach it with distracting you or facing the obstacle head-on, but he finds a middle ground. eats your feelings out with you. saeko pulls out the embarrassing ryu pictures and suddenly you don't know why you were ever sad.

hinata shoyo; is really oblivious for a bit tbh. when he first meets you at the start of the day and his hyperactive self is greeted by your duller, sadder self, he doesn't think much of it. it's when you don't react to him or interact with him the way you usually would that he starts to notice you being off. he's actually super straightforward about it, and approaches you with some of your favorite snack that he bribed ukai to give him for free and just "wanna tell me whats up, baby?" he's so, so easy to talk to. immediately you're venting. and he listens to intently, gives stupidly good advice. it's like such simple approaches to your problem but?? it works. anyways you love him.

yamaguchi tadashi; will be super worried about what he could do to make it better, and kinda just tries to feed you as much positive energy as he can. once he's comfortable with people, he becomes really chatty, so i see him talking your ear off with the biggest smile on his face that you have no choice but to kind of ? mimic it? he just radiates goodness and sweetness that it shifts your own energy. he on some witchcraft shit on god. anyways when he walks you home or something, he'll just stop for a min and avoid your eyes when he says "ik u dont feel the best, but i dont want you to have to hide that from me, okay?" stan tadashi <3

nekoma ━━

kuroo tetsurō; drops everything. i mean it. i genuinely think kuroo would be such a good boyfriend that he'll sense it and text u as ur getting ready for school and be like "are u sad i feel like ur sad". you dont really wanna worry him and you'll just reassure him ur fine but he's already at your front door in — not his school uniform. insists the two of you take the day off saying "its fine babe im super smart". you two will spend the whole day just simply existing, talking when needed, he listens to you if you vent, and tries to come up with as many options of solutions for you so you don't feel weighed down. he'll make sure you eat even if you don't have an appetite, and will try to make u do something productive bc in a lotta cases, it could help you feel a lil better yk :)

kozume kenma; i pretend i do not see it — kozume kenma (2020). jbwjwks im jk. he's like tsukki in the sense that he will never address it, and he doesn't outwardly approach you about it. if it's just an off day for you, and you also happen to not have school, you'll go over to his house, hoping to feel a little bit better when you see him. "can i have a kiss, sunshine" to which he responds "why." you just go "im sad" and he gives u a big smooch. he'll have you lay on his lap while he plays his games, occasionally just sneaking in a peak at you to make sure you're okay. he'll ask if you wanna play to get your mind off things for a while. eventually, when things wind down a bit, he'll just mutter "yk i love you, yeah?" and that lights up your world hehe

haiba lev; as soon as he notices you're sad he just ☹️. he picks out a small flower and as soon as he sees you, he just tucks it by your ear, and smile so brightly and youll just be like "oh my god lev please stop being so cute". he won't really know what to do tbh, but the way he's so lost makes it so heartwarming and it honestly cheers you up all on its own. he just. "would a kiss make it better" and if you nod he'll just start kissing all over your face so softly, until he finally kisses your lips. when he pulls away he asks "again?" with a cute smile and if you nod he'll just kiss you over and over again. very simple way of cheering you up, and very foolproof tbh.

yaku morisuke; i think throughout the day, he might pester you a little bit about telling him what was wrong, but after you keep insisting you're fine, he relents, and decides that maybe giving you your own time and space to open up to him is better. he tries not to act differently in that sense, but he finds himself being a little more soft spoken, and gentler with you. i just had this image flash in my brain of you resting your head on a desk, head turned to the right, and then yaku comes and sits to your right, putting his head on the desk and facing you. and just. "hi :)" your heart melts. he kisses your forehead softly and tells you you're wonderful, in case you've forgotten. if, or when, you do open up to him, he'll be very eager to listen, and ready to fight off whoever upset you.

yamamoto taketora; this man is angry. like properly. "who the FUCK put a frown on my baby's face. speak the fuck up. i won't hurt you. ill just mutilate you." if you tell him that it's no one, and that you're just upset, he'll be so confused but he'll just nod and be like "okay. okay. do you want a hug?" and he'll hug you so tight. he'll admit that he doesn't like seeing you like this, and that he'll do anything to make it better. at first he's very cautious, but then he just lightbulb moment and as soon as you get home he'll be like "karaoke night babyyyyy" and then. no more sad.

aoba johsai ━━

oikawa tōru; very. perceptive. he greets you normally, even if he notices something's off, because he won't want to worsen anything. you meet him right before he has practice after school, and he'll just cup your face, lifting them to brush at your hair, and you just sigh. "my baby's had a long day, yeah?" he'll be very gentle and careful with you, i'm sure. he gives you a kiss, smiling softly into it, and reassuring you that you're much too strong to let a single bad day destroy you like this. he meets you later that night with a lotta ice cream and you two just binge watch any reality show you could find, shit talking the actors together. he himself is terrible at talking about his feelings this dumbass >:( so he understands if you don't want to yk? will encourage u to vent it out though. expect terrible, makes no sense advice

iwaizumi hajime; he kinda like. gets mad? when you continue to be upset and not speak about it? he's not mad at you! he's just. mad. this is iwa okay. anyways. he won't bring it up mostly, only being slightly more affectionate, especially in his hand holding, which is super gentle already as it is. when he invites you over, that's when he actually starts to talk to you about it. he lets you know that there's nothing worse than seeing you like this and not knowing what to do, and that he wants you to be able to talk to him. about anything. even if you think it's stupid. he'll listen, and tell you that it's not stupid if it's making you upset. he cooks for you <33333 then bakes with you <33333 you feel a lot lighter at the end of the night tbh

hanamaki takahiro; (he's so annoying i love him). as soon as he sees you upset he makes it his mission throughout the day to cheer you up in any possible way. spams your phone while you're class with ten thousand wholesome memes. sends you pick up lines. when he meets you in between classes he just yells out "how's my favorite person in the entire world!" and kisses you so wholly in the middle of the school hallway lmfao. while he's walking you home, takes a longer route and purposely, he passes by your favorite store/bakery/ice cream parlor. buys u ur favorite, and pretends to be shocked when you give him a piece. late at night, he'll facetime you, wondering how you're feeling, asking if you needed to talk about it. whether you do or you don't, you two will fall asleep facetiming.

matsukawa issei; the minute he sees you he's like "whats wrong". no hi or anything. he has like this frown on his face, which seems off bc it's rare to see a frown on issei's face, and he just tucks your chin in his palm gently and stares at your pout. "you good, baby?" he can tell you're not, but he wants you to be able to tell him on your own. sticks by your side the entire day, and nobody really mentions it. he talks to you as if it were a normal day, but his voice has a softer edge. he's not distracting you, per se. he's more, talking to fill the space while giving you your own space to think. once you're alone, he'll just drag you to the nearest comfy surface, flop down, and pull you on top of him. if you even try to resist or ask whats going on he'll just "nap and cuddles first." and when u sleep a lil bit of ur sadness away, he'll just let you talk it out as he continues to hold you <333

fukurodani ━━

bokuto kōtarō; just as empathetic as asahi, if not more. he really does feel it all with you. yk sympathy pains that partners get when women get contractions? bokuto is that partner. with bokuto, i feel like he'd never make you feel like you couldn't just straight up text him "im sad" and feel bad about it. if you ever do that, he'll immediately call, not even bothering with a text. if he can't come over, he stays with you until you've cried your heart out and then laughing until you can't breathe. if he can go over, he smothers you with love. repeatedly says "you know i love you, yeah? you know how grateful i am for you?" and in between kisses "im so lucky. so, so lucky."

akaashi keiji; i feel like as soon as akaashi notices you're down, or you're slightly off, he just grabs your hand and squeezes, forcing you to stop spacing out and focus on him for a second. if you're with a lot of people around you, he'll lean close to you and ask if you wanna go home. he'll be so soft and gentle and understanding, making up some excuse on the spot on why the two of you have to leave. if you're alone, he'll grab your hand and kind of tug you towards him, silently asking you to come into his arms, where you yourself know you feel safest. as soon as you're in the comfort of your home together, he'll like run you a bath and slip into it with you, just holding you until the water grows cold and the droplets on your skin are from your own tears. he'll wait it out, just holding you as reassurance, then make sure nothing's stopping you from spilling everything to him.

konoha akinori; when he first notices, he kinda deflates. like. who would wanna see their s/o like that? his smile is gentler when he greets you, and he's so soft with you. he grabs a pen and lifts your palm up, quickly scribbling down in his unique handwriting "i love you :) <3" on your skin, whispering for you not to wash it off until the end of the day. it is weirdly motivating tbh. as soon as the two of you are alone, he says it to you, face to face, an expected look on his face as if to ask "you know that, yeah?". puts on a movie to tune out the rest of the world, and holds you close to him as it drags on. he'll give advice if you're asking for it, but he's a better listener than anything else.

shiratorizawa ━━

ushijima wakatoshi; does not notice. in all honesty, he expects you to approach him whenever you have an issue or if you're upset. he's kinda like ? so confused when you're so down and really unresponsive, until he starts to notice how touchy you are. like you're leaning more into his touch, holding onto his hand like it's your lifeline, stealing his vbc jacket because it smells like him. is very straightforward, and will just ask you if you're okay as he walks/drives you home. kinda just stops in front of your house and presses a kiss to your forehead, then pulling you into a hug. "please don't be upset." he won't tell you that it kills him, but you can sense the unsaid words. he urges you to keep his jacket when he notices how safe it makes you feel. greets you the next morning with a new cactus in a pot hehe.

semi eita; is very cuddly once he notices. you'll sit at a table in school and he'll be sitting next to you, but he just pulls you into him and lets you rest your head on his chest, mumbling softly into your hair "i know you're sad and it's okay." he doesn't say anything else, just holds you there with a few kisses in between until he has to let go. late at night, if your thoughts are still keeping you up, he'll be up too, worrying, and will text you at 3 am if u wanna sneak out to meet him. takes you to the park and lays on the grass with you, picking out stars and constellations in the sky, with a soft soundtrack playing from his phone next to the two of you. he makes you feel secure enough to be sad even if you have all the blessings in the world, and makes sure you know that he'll always be there for you, even at 3 in the morning.

satori tendō; cheers you up by making you forget literally everything. replaces the sadness in your brain with just pure serotonin in any way he can think of. he'll take you to an amusement park, get ice cream with you, take you to the carnival in town, to the park, to the beach, to the pool, take you up to his house's rooftop. literally anything. and then he'll say something like "life's too short to spend it being sad over anything, darling." he's so understanding, and if you're frustrated or something he'll tell you to let it out by like wrestling him or some shit. exhausts you so much and you're filled to the brim with dopamine. he makes sure you're always happy, never seeing a dull moment in your relationship with him.

goshiki tsutomu; freaks out. plain and simple lmfao. but once he like grounds himself, he just softly comes up to you and asks you if you wanna talk about it, or if there's anything he can do. if yes, he'll break his leg running to go do it. if no, he'll just sit with you in silence, leaning over to hold your hand, talking to you about volleyball and his aspirations and how well he's improving. he's better at distracting you than helping you face your issues, mainly because he stresses out about giving the wrong advice or somehow making you sadder. he'll take a lot of pictures of you together on snapchat random filters to try and cheer you up, then later on in the night he'll send them to you and be like "look how cute we are ugh what a power couple" i love this dorkhabsjsks

shirabu kenjirō; i think he definitely notices, but keeps it to himself. he’d maybe think he’s imagining things and that you’re okay, so he’d go about his day normally. he doesn’t see you after school, and that’s when he puts two and two together and realizes yeah maybe you are sad. so he texts you, and texts you, and texts you, and gets no reply, so he just. comes over. unannounced. uninvited. just straight vibes. he’s already ordered your favorite take out, and already settling in bed with you under the cover with the lights dimmed and some chick flick playing in the background. gives the b e s t advice because he’s so blunt. like he will tell you if you’re overreacting, but you’re still his s/o, so he’d like wince as he says it. that’s all the sympathy you’re getting <3 but his bluntness will shock you into laughing hehe

inarizaki ━━

miya atsumu; usually, with atsumu, you’re always experiencing loud days. your relationship is all fun and flirty and suave and cool. but when he notices you’re sad, he goes quiet. like. eerily so. immediately pulls you aside somewhere private if you’re at a public place like school or something, and with his hands in yours he asks you if you’re okay. yk that thing where ur on the verge of tears and someone asks you if you’re okay and you just burst. yeah <3. his heart absolutely breaks and he just pulls you into a hug, resting your head on his chest and wrapping his arms around your neck. he just holds you there, even if you’re missing class/your friends are worried. he’ll stay with you until your tears have dried up, until you yourself let go.

miya osamu; i don’t see osamu as someone that loves pda. i feel like he’d be a more lowkey kinda guy. but if you’re sad, that gets thrown out the window. he doesn’t really in the moment, and won’t think too much when he pulls you close to his side and just wraps an arm around your waist/shoulder. yeah he’ll get looks but he can feel you trembling and shaking from holding back tears so yk, priorities. he’ll definitely stress eat with you. takes you literally anywhere and feeds you as you rant to him with tears streaming down your face and he’s just nodding sympathetically as he stuffs your mouth one bite after the other. romance is beautiful

suna rinatarō; when he notices you’re sad, his first response is alright what the fuck who messed up. he immediately blames someone else, and if he’s right, he’ll only get really agitated. just giving everyone the side eye from where you can’t see as he walks the two of you, your hand in his tight. if it’s not someone specific, he’ll just hum thoughtfully and then nod, before pulling you away somewhere private and just sitting you down and saying “talk.” very, very good listener. i can’t stress this enough. as you’re speaking he’s already thinking of a million different ways to help you solve your problem. walks with you as he traces your hands and just quietly tells you all the solutions.

aran ojiro; oh my god as a boyfriend he ticks all the boxes. he’s great at communicating, always satisfies your needs, is trustworthy and trusts you. the list goes on. immediately knows when you’re off/sad, and just smiles softly as he takes your hand, kissing your knuckles and saying, “let’s go home, yeah?” at home, he makes you some calming tea, probably pulls out some cookies or brownies or biscuits (that HE made but we’re not gonna get into that) and just listens as you talk, whether it’s about why you’re sad or just in general. gives you honest advice, but also a lil biased bc he loves you hehe <3

[pagetorn]

MISC ACTION MEMES

@satanheir​  🩹: tracing one/some of Alice's scars

          Alice believes they have an understanding.   Physical contact remains at the barest of minimums.   She shirks away at the possibility that they may brush against each other.   Yet,  the moment she straightened his tie,  a door is opened that he seems to have no problem walking through.   He asks her a question and she hears him but can barely bring herself to answer.   Lips part and eyes widen as she feels his fingers curl around her wrist and thumb smooth over the scar that twists up her arm the way the flames licked at her skin all those years ago. 

          She expects it to hurt,  to feel a searing pain the second his skin touches her.   Instead, it’s warm but not unpleasant.   She can feel every detail of his skin against her own,  mind already memorizing how soft his hands actually are and nearly flinches at the idea of them touching her coarse and rough scar.   Body tenses, but she does not pull away from him.   Why should she punish him for the pain caused by others?   Why should she treat him as if he aims to hurt her when her only experience with him has been his generosity?

❝ W-Why are you doing this? ❞   When she finally looks at him,  her eyes brim with tears and her bottom lip quivers with each breath she takes.   It’s obvious how she fights the urge to pull away,  to rip from his grasp and cradle her arm close to her chest.   Instead,  she lets him continue to touch her.   ❝ To break me in a way I have yet to be broken? ❞   She looks to the ground in defeat.   ❝ I...   I was just fine before I met you.   Fine to live in my own little world without anyone or anything.   And then you just show up and... ❞   And force her to acknowledge that she has wants and desires and needs that have been neglected all her life.

          She can’t process the feeling swelling in her chest.   Is she frightened?   Does she want more?   Alice never knew a gentle touch and therefore never had a chance to miss it.   Her free hand tentatively reaches out to ghost over his own skin,  once steady now shaking with anticipation before she settles elongated appendages upon his own wrist.   Can she dare to believe she likes it?

❝ I was made to believe I was undeserving of any warmth... ❞   And what will she do when he eventually tires of her?   When she no longer impresses him?   Left more hollow than she was before,  she can see it now.   ❝ Please... ❞   What is she even begging for?

[glowinggator]

Cuddles - All Turtles

Request: Hi I really like you writes! keep up the good work, I was wondering if you could do a rottmnt cuddle Imagines? If that's fine?

Pairing: All Turtles! (Non-Poly) 

Content: Fluffy as FUCK. Brush your teeth after you read this, cause it’s sweet as hell. 

Raphael: 

He loves to cuddle! But...he’s nervous. He doesn’t want to prick you with one of his spikes, or...worse. With his brothers, it’s different! They’ve got hard shells and plastrons, but you’re so... squishy! What if he hurts you? 

He gets so happy about casual touch. Putting you on his shoulders? Throwing his arm around your shoulders? Affectionate hair ruffle? He’s the physical embodiment of :) 

If you want full cuddles, though, you’re gonna have to be the one to initiate it the first few times. He’s just too nervous, otherwise. 

Rest your head on his plastron when you’re watching a movie and he’ll melt. 

Seeing how your arms maneuver around his spikes to embrace him, how gingerly you hold him...Maybe it’s possible. Maybe you two can cuddle without getting any boo boos.

He can’t really lay on his back because of his spikes. He’ll either get stuck that way when his spikes inevitably get embedded into the material, or he’ll shred up whatever he’s laying on.

(He’s banned from the beanbag chairs.)

He wants to be the little spoon so bad, but it’s physically impossible. He’s forever bound to big spoon duty. He’s okay with that, though. 

(One time you showed up wrapped in mattress foam and bubble wrap to try and be the big spoon. It's a very fond memory, even if you were padded too stiffly to actually hold him.) 

He likes to rest his head in your lap. Run your nails along his head or shell and he’ll be asleep in no time.

He won’t lay on your stomach or chest though. He really wants to, but he’s afraid he’ll crush you. There’s no debate with that topic, unfortunately. 

He’s such a good big spoon!! He’s so strong, and he cradles you like you’re the entire world. Because you are! 

He likes to rest one hand on your stomach and tangle his other hand with yours. It’s so cool to look down and see how his spikes cradle you. Almost as though you were a treasure encased in barbed wire, protected from the outside world. 

You always feel so safe when you cuddle. I mean, it’s hard not to when you’re cocooned in 1000lbs of muscle and spikes!

His hold is firm, but noticeably gentle. 

He runs pretty warm, compared to the rest of the turtles. Great in the winter time, not so great in the summer.  

He traces little doodles on the back of your hand. You can never tell what they are, though. And he won’t tell you what they are, if you ask.  

(They’re dogs.) 

He’s not coldblooded, due to the way he was mutated. As such, he doesn’t really have any issues regulating his body temperature. He does find himself seeking out heat sources, however! Donnie calls it a vestigial response. Raph absolutely does not care about no scientific names or explanations: he just knows that he likes to sit under the heat lamp in the morning.

Prepare to be his next heat lamp. 

If you come over in the mornings, prepare to be greeted with a very sleepy Raph the instant your feet hit the lair concrete.

He’s never on his phone when you cuddle.

He is a talker, though. He doesn’t quite whisper, but he definitely invokes the gentle voice. 

He falls asleep very quickly if he doesn’t keep himself talking. Your presence is just so calming to him, he can’t help it! 

He’s a very deep breather, and it’s really calming to listen to!

Unfortunately, he starts to snore about 15 minutes after he falls asleep. And he’s loud. 

You’ll get used to it, eventually. 

Donatello

He doesn’t sleep consistently, so full cuddle sessions are far and few between.

He read that fake rumor that Albert Einstein only slept for five hours a year: while it’s since been debunked, it’s stuck with him. He started training himself when he was little to power nap instead, and now it’s hard for him to get out of the habit.  

But..you’re a good motivator.

He’s a little nervous around the concept of cuddling, at first. He’s very touch-starved, and once you warm him up to the idea, it’ll be hard to pull him off you! But he’s incredibly nervous about it at first.

It’s...intimate, you know? He’s vulnerable, and that freaks him out.

His shell is super sensitive. Partially because it’s soft, but wearing his battle shell all the time has removed a lot of stimuli that would have made it less sensitive.

He reflexively rolls his shoulders when you run your hands along his exposed shell. At least, for the first few times. If you do it enough, it’ll quickly become a way for him to relax.

Likes to pull you to his chest and hold you like that. He usually has your head under his chin so he can scroll through his phone while you cuddle. He doesn’t move his arms much though, so it’s okay.

(He also likes it when you’re facing him so he can steal glances at you once you fall asleep. He thinks you’re even prettier when you’re completely relaxed.)

You’ll rarely see it for yourself, but his eyes get all soft while you’re cuddling together. The quietest, calmest smile graces his features when you’re in his arms.

However, you do notice how all the tension fades from his body, and how his breathing seems to slow down.

He’ll run his free hand along your back every now and then, pressing a quiet kiss to the top of your head.

He runs fairly cold, which is awesome in the summertime. He always lets you borrow his hoodies when you cuddle. If you ask nicely, he’ll let you keep ‘em, just so long as he has one or two in the closet.

His bed has super soft blankets, and they’re so nice to curl up in. You’ll probably stay there for a little while after he gets up, honestly.

He’s not a talker, surprisingly. Every now and then he’ll pull his arm back to show you some meme on his phone, but that’s about it. He’ll listen to you though! He actually really likes it when you mutter about whatever's on your mind while you cuddle.

King of “Uh huh,” “Wow,” “Mmhm,” and “Damn that’s crazy.”

He really is listening, though. He just likes to tease you a little bit.

His grip is either iron-tight or loose as hell.

On bad days he’ll curl up as the little spoon, and not even the gods could convince him to let go of you.

It takes him a while to warm up to the idea of being a little spoon. Both because his shell is hyper-sensitive, but it also kind of erodes that “bad boy” persona he’s got going on.

Once he’s more comfortable with it, he’s about 50/50 on it. He’s more likely to indulge himself on bad days, but it honestly just depends on his mood.

If you pull him away from work, you can bet that he’ll pull you to his chest while he’s sitting on the bed. He’ll lean forward to rest his chin on your shoulder as he explains his latest breakthrough. He shakes a little bit when he’s excited, and you can feel it as he holds you.  

He panics a little bit when he’s on his back, but he really likes it when you lay on his plastron, so...Chair cuddles!

He likes to have you in his lap while he works.

He also likes to kick his legs up onto your lap when watching TV. If you guys have the couch to yourselves, he’ll also lay all the way on your lap. If anyone sees you guys, or if anyone comments on it he’ll just hit ‘em with a very snarky quip.

“Okay, and? At least I actually have a partner :)”

You don’t know how he said “:)” outloud.

Leonardo 

He thinks he’s so smooth, but honestly? He’s such a dork.

He’s huge on touch. But cuddling? It’s a whole ‘nother ball game. He loves it a lot, but...he’s so vulnerable! It’s so intimate to him. He’s not adverse to it in the slightest; in fact, it’s the exact opposite! He’s super excited when the topic comes up.

You can tell that the idea of fully cuddling affects him more than he lets on, because he won’t stop talking when you bring up the subject for the first time. He rambles when he’s nervous.

(He talks with his hands a lot, and it’s really cute how he rambles and rubs the back of his neck.)

He’s actually a great cuddler, though.

Big spoon? Hell yeah. Little spoon? Awesome. Horrific entanglement of limbs that would put eldritch horrors to shame? Sweet! He’s just happy to be close to you.

He can go 50/50 on having his phone with him. If he does, he’s usually either watching memes with you or playing a mobile game.

(Kind of unrelated, but he was very excited about that weird, Subway Surfers revival that happened earlier this year. It was all he played for a while, and now you have the tune lodged in your brain forever.)

He’ll talk for a little while if he doesn’t have his phone, before you settle into a comfortable silence.

He’s either ranting about something shitty that happened that day, or shitposting. There’s no inbetween.

“If I shot someone from Texas while I was on the moon, would that fall under Texas’ jurisdiction or the moon’s?”

He also likes to trace little patterns on your hands, if he has access to them that day! You can usually tell what they are. Other times, it just seems like he’s finding an excuse to hold your hand. It’s really cute.

(If you ask him what he’s drawing, he’ll say he’s reading your palms before dropping a sweet little line about how he’s in your future.)

(He does NOT know how to read palms but it’s the thought that counts <3)

Not ashamed about cuddling in public. Hell, if you’re fine with it, he’s more than happy to cuddle during movie night. In fact, it’s kind of a source of pride for him!

He looks so cocky about it that Donatello has to make a physical effort to NOT hit him.

Please run your palms over his shell, he’ll melt.

If he’s the big spoon, squeeze his biceps. He might not say it out loud, but he’s melting internally. It sticks in his head for at least a few weeks afterwards. Ego Boost 100

If you’re ticklish, prepare yourself for tickles. He strikes without a pattern, and without warning. He doesn’t always do it, though. Maybe about one in ten times. He just likes to hear you laugh :)

He’s very nice to cuddle with overall. He’s the best cuddler in the lair, hands down.

Michelangelo

Literally the only one in the lair who isn’t embarrassed when you bring up the topic.

He’s been WAITING for this moment, actually.

Doesn’t care about whether he’s the big or little spoon.

He’s super talkative when he cuddles, it’s cute. He usually likes to spend this time talking about one another’s day. He’s a great listener too!

He’s always 100% engaged in what you have to say.

He has trouble settling down outside of his normal schedule, so it’s rare that he’ll fall asleep while cuddling.

If you’re in a position that gives his arms a lot of mobility, he’ll draw on you. Not just tracing patterns, but he’ll actually bring out his markers and draw on your arms, back, or just any exposed piece of skin.

He always manages to find the prettiest colors to compliment your skin tone. You never want to wash it off, honestly.

He HAS to keep himself busy with something, or else he’ll explode. At least, that’s how he describes it. If you try and get him to lay down and fall asleep...well, he’ll try! But he’ll be squirming the whole time.

It’s best to throw on a Jupiter Jim movie if you want him to stay still.

He likes to tangle his legs with yours while you cuddle. Whether he’s taller or shorter than you, he WILL find a way.

He’s the lightest out of all the turtles, so there’s a possibility of letting him (partially) lay on you without shattering your sternum! Congratulations!

(He’s around 525 lbs. He’s only half of what Raph weighs, but he still has to be careful about how he lays on you. It’s crazy to think that you’re so small compared to him.)

His hands are so cold, and he’ll absolutely use that to his advantage. If he gets bored, or if he just wants to make you laugh, he’ll grab your waist with his cold fucking hands. Hope you’re a northerner <3

He also likes to tickle you, way more than Leo.

Don’t try and tickle him though, he HATES it. He’s absolutely the type of person to just Scream if you try.

Like I said, he gets bored really quickly. He also just likes to make you laugh.

If you’re cuddling in bed though, like right before he falls asleep? It’s so nice.

He’ll still tangle his legs with yours, but he moves so much slower. He loves to let his hands lazily roam across your form as he pulls you closer to him, savoring the comfort and heat that you bring. If he talks, it’s in drowsy whispers that only you two can hear.

[blossom-hwa]

Stardust - CHANGMIN

So like. This was the first full scenario I wrote for TBZ and I can’t believe I wrote this before actually even STARTING No Air, but whatever! It was cute! I couldn’t help myself but I didn’t want to post this before No Air so that’s why it’s late

Thank you to @deathbykpopboys for helping me put this scenario together! Honestly I don’t think I’d ever write anything without sunny hhhh she’s always so great with ideas <3

Pairing: Changmin x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, a little angst if you squint, teacher!au

Triggers: alcohol, cursing

Word Count: 2.7k

Changmin sometimes thinks you’re a little too perfect to exist.

TBZ Masterlist | No Air | Touching Stars | Breathe, and Live

Friday nights are always fun, for Changmin. Friday’s the last day of the work week and kind of blends into the weekend, and because he’s a schoolteacher, he (sort of) gets the weekend off. Sure, he might be making lesson plans or writing reports or doing other important, not fun things, but he also has his stolen moments for dance or shopping or things that he doesn’t have time to do during the week. He’s free, more or less.

The last Friday night of each month, though, Changmin enjoys the most, when he, Jacob, and Kevin meet up for cheap food and drinks. And as much as Changmin likes to wreak havoc on the lives of his fellow teachers (mostly by scaring the wits out of them with dolphin screams and horror movie masks), he really does enjoy their presence in his life and appreciates them for it.

They haven’t a missed a night so far, not since that time Jacob was out with the flu and Kevin had a family emergency. And even though Changmin’s definitely done and said some stupid (read: really embarrassing) things while under the influence, the pros of each night always end up outweighing the cons. So if Changmin wakes up the next morning with a hangover, well, that’s just a side effect of having some fun.

But sometimes he has thoughts. Thoughts that he’s repressed so well he might not even register them, but that exist nonetheless. And Changmin, sadly, is a truthful drunk. His thoughts come spilling out of his mouth, mostly unfiltered, whenever he’s had enough to drink.

And this week, Changmin has been having thoughts. Thoughts that he isn’t sure he wants to spill.

If he drinks, they’ll flood out. It’s the way Changmin works – he’s had enough experiences with alcohol and his brain that he knows what will happen. As he stares at the soju bottle on the table, he knows that if he drinks, he’ll probably regret it in the morning. Not necessarily because he’ll remember what he says – his memory tends to get a bit spotty even after a round of light drinking – but because Kevin definitely will.

Normally, Changmin would praise God for Kevin's ability to remember drunk things. Coupled with his inability to lie, it makes for so much potent blackmail. Sure, Kevin makes Changmin and Jacob swear not to talk about anything he said under the influence, but Changmin isn't an angel the way Jacob is. If it came down to it, he'd sell Kevin's secrets for a single corn chip and some entertainment.

(Okay, not really. But the point still stands.)

If he complained about this to people, they’d probably just laugh and say something about how Kevin is a precious pure meme, that he’d never sell out Changmin’s deepest thoughts for anything. After several years of working with him, though, Changmin knows better.

(He’ll just say that sometimes, Mr. Kev Kev isn't the happy-go-lucky meme-y little boy that everyone likes to make him out to be.)

So maybe Changmin shouldn't be drinking tonight. There isn’t necessarily a lot on his mind, but he’s been thinking of things that he doesn't want spilled just yet, and drinking will only make that possibility a reality.

Isn’t that what alcohol is for, though? To make those worries disappear, if only for a short while? The soju beckons at Changmin, even more so when Kevin actually opens the bottle. Eventually, he throws caution to the wind and fills his own glass.

It’s a clear night, mostly. A bit cloudy, but no sign of rain, and there’s a pleasant little breeze that feels cool against his cheeks. Sitting at one of the small tables outside of the restaurant, Changmin loses himself in the food and the conversation.

After an hour, Jacob decides he needs to leave because he’s supposed to meet with his family the next day and can’t get too plastered. Kevin calls him a noob while making a face, but Jacob, being the angel he is, just pats him on the head on his way out. Privately, Changmin thinks Kevin is much more of a noob than Jacob, but the alcohol hasn’t addled his mind enough to say that out loud just yet.

At some point, though, the world becomes pleasantly muddy. Changmin can register what’s going on at a distant level and he probably shouldn’t drink too much more, but he takes a last shot anyway, just as Kevin asks a slightly slurred “How’s life with Y/N?”

A stupid smile stretches across Changmin’s lips. “Kevin, oh my God, she’s perfect.” He grins, the breeze cool against his flushed cheeks. "She’s so beautiful, it doesn't make sense that we exist in the same world."

Kevin mutters something that sounds like "whipped" and "so soft."

Changmin is sure that if he were sober, he would've attacked his fellow teacher by now, but his tipsy haze is too pleasant to interrupt. He just wants to keep talking. "Kevin," he whines. "Pay attention."

"Okay." Face flushed, Kevin puts his chin on his fist. "'M listening."

"Y/N’s so beautiful." Dimly, Changmin is aware that he's just repeating himself, but he can't help it. The point needs emphasis. "Kevin, she’s so amazing. So much more amazing than me. So smart. Did you know Y/N knows like ten programming languages?"

Tipsily, Kevin shakes his head. "What... what's a program."

"Computer shit." Changmin plays idly with his shot glass. "Doesn't matter. So smart, so nice, so... lovely, Kevin. Y/N’s good at everything. She cuts fruit for me when I work late and make me go to sleep. She doesn’t know anything about dance and tries to help anyway. She works so hard and never takes anyone’s shit and she always knows when I need time alone or when I need comfort.” His mouth draws down into a slight frown. “She’s like... she’s like..."

Why is it so hard to come up with something to explain you? Your entire existence defies definition. How can he even find something comparable to the way you sparkle in his eyes?

Ignoring Kevin’s gaze trained on him, Changmin slumps over the table, eyes gazing out at the dark night. A few stars manage to glitter past the clouds and the piercing lights of the Seoul skyline.

Stars. Something tugs at the back of Changmin’s brain. Stars. Sparkly.

An image of your smile pops, unbidden, in his mind. Your bright eyes glimmer. Like stars.

Oh.

Stardust.

Yes, stardust.

You're like stardust, warm and gentle and... magical. Magical to the touch.

"She’s like." Changmin hiccups. "She’s like stardust, Kevin. Stardust. Perfect. Warm.”

A tear trickles down Kevin's cheek. Changmin has exactly two seconds to ready himself in his drunken haze before Kevin launches himself at his purple hoodie, loosely grasping at the soft cloth as he fully encases Changmin within his arms. "Ji Changmin," he sobs, muffled, "that is the most adorable thing I've ever heard you say."

Even sober, Changmin doesn't think he'd know what to say in response to that, so he just stays silent. It's not like Kevin would even hear him over the sound of his overemotional crying.

Anyway, Kevin's hug feels nice. Warm. Changmin doesn't think he needs to speak words at the moment, he's too comfortable. It's not the same as being in your arms, but he'll settle for it now. He burrows a little deeper into his friend's hold.

“You little child, you,” Kevin sobs into his shoulder. “You’re so sweet and small and warm, I can’t believe you exist.”

Changmin doesn’t feel like replying. There’s a bubble of something growing in his chest that he can’t entirely decipher right now, and his brain has focused on that. It’s some sort of emotion, he thinks. It doesn’t feel very pleasant.

His head gets pulled out of Kevin’s arms. He whines a little, annoyed by the lack of warmth, but he doesn’t really have the presence of mind to do anything but sit there limply as Kevin starts shaking him back and forth, still wailing about how “adorable his little Ji Changminnie is.”

The bubble keeps growing as Kevin keeps shaking him. It doesn’t feel like vomit – Changmin knows that sensation a bit too well – but it makes him feel a little sick. A little upset. The bubble feels suffocating, cold, but it also burns.

Not vomit. He doesn’t feel nauseous. But still unpleasant.

Kevin goes back to hugging Changmin into his chest, which soothes the bubble a little bit. The soft warmth of Kevin’s sweater smooths the burning and takes away the edge of the cold. But the bubble still stays as Changmin rocks back and forth in his friend’s hold, blankly trying to decipher the stupid emotion growing in his heart.

“There’s a bubble.” The words slip out of his mouth just past Kevin’s ear. “There’s a bubble in my chest.”

“Bubble?” Kevin pulls back slightly, flushed face confused. “What bubble?”

Changmin vaguely gestures at his chest as best he can with Kevin’s arms partially trapping his hands. “Here. Doesn’t feel good.”

Kevin’s eyes squint. “Need to vomit?”

“Nooooo,” Changmin whines. “Kevin, it’s a bubble.” He pauses. “Think it’s an emotion.”

He hears Kevin suck in a breath. “I can’t believe my precious little Scorpio child is finally feeling emotions,” the older boy says in a stage whisper, loud enough for at least the next two tables to hear. Changmin has enough presence of mind to slap him. “Hey!”

“It hurts.” Changmin’s lips pout deeper. “I don’t like it.”

“Aww, no, baby.” Kevin pats his head – a little too hard, but Changmin can deal with that. “Why does it hurt? What emotion is it?”

Changmin racks his brains for the word. It’s not a good feeling, so he tries to eliminate the good words as they pass through his mind. Not pleasant. Definitely not happy. Not calm, either.

Sadness? Maybe that’s part of it, but it’s not specific enough. Anger? Not really.

Fear?

Changmin isn’t scared of many things. He loves horror movies and thinks possessed dolls are cute, and it’s hard for anyone to really startle him. Fear is not an emotion that regularly appears in his repertoire.

But this time…

“I’m scared.” The two words slip out of his mouth, quiet, lonely. “’M scared, Kevin.”

Kevin pulls back again. “Changmin, you’re never scared.”

“I am now.” He purses his lips petulantly.

“Why?”

Unconsciously, the corners of his lips turn down even further into a blank pout. "Sometimes I think Y/N’s gonna leave. Slip through my fingers."

Even tipsy, Changmin can tell there are more tears welling up in Kevin's eyes. "But… you love each other?"

"Y/N’s stardust." Changmin's pout deepens. "Too perfect. She’s gonna realize that, that I'm not... I'm not good enough but she’s too nice to say that so she’ll just slip away." He hiccups again, feeling his cheeks burn with drink, fluttering his fingers loosely to make sure Kevin gets the point. "Like stardust."

Kevin remains silent for one, two, three seconds. Changmin takes that time to drain the last little bit of soju left in his cup.

Then Kevin nearly knocks the cup out of his hand when he literally grabs Changmin and forces him to curl up into his sweater, nose buried in the soft folds of cloth. “You beautiful, pure little child, you,” he coos, patting Changmin’s head (still a little too hard, but Changmin really doesn’t feel the need to deal with it right now). “You small little child. You poor, small child. Y/N is so in love with you, there���s no way she’ll ever leave.”

“Stardust,” Changmin reminds Kevin, words muffled into his sweater.

“Stardust,” Kevin agrees. “But good stardust. Gonna stay with you. Never going to leave.”

Changmin doesn’t remember much of what happens after that. He knows that they eventually pay for everything and Kevin’s partner picks them up (well, they were the one who was supposed to pick the two of them up. He doesn’t actually register the driver’s face, but Changmin hears Kevin calling them “love muffin, better than Beyonce,” so it’s probably them. He refuses to acknowledge any alternatives), but he’s too drunk and too tired to process anything else.

Somehow, he wakes up the next day curled up in his bed, forehead threatening to split from the dull pain. Mentally, he thanks himself for closing the shades before he passed out last night (or was it morning? He isn’t completely sure when he got home) so that the sunlight isn’t adding to his headache.

Get up, Changmin, he tells himself, summoning the strength to swing his legs out of bed. Step by step, he exits his room and slowly brushes his teeth before heading toward the kitchen for a bottle of water or something to get rid of the pounding in his head.

Changmin’s so out of it that he doesn’t register the smell of something cooking wafting out of the kitchen before he’s almost in it. He finally stops, confused, just in time to see your head poke out from the kitchen entrance.

For a second, Changmin just stares at you, brain buffering as he tries to come up with a suitable greeting in his hungover state. There’s this look on your face that Changmin’s muddled mind can’t seem to decipher.

Oh, God.

You look like you’re about to cry. 

He panics. What did he do wrong? Did he say something bad last night? He can’t remember anything – how badly did he screw up, what the hell did he do –

Then you leap at him, much the same way Kevin did last night, and bury your face into his shoulder.

“Ji Changmin,” you say, words muffled into his rumpled shirt, “I love you so much.”

Changmin’s mouth can only come up with a confused “huh?”

You pull back, eyes shining with tears, but mouth stretched into a beautiful, beautiful smile. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember what you told Kevin last night,” you say teasingly, though there’s a hint of uncertainty in your gaze.

Slowly, slowly, the events of last night begin to piece themselves together in Changmin’s brain. Every single stupid word he said to Kevin in his drunken stupor comes flooding back in one massive, jumbled mess.

He blushes.

“Ji Changmin.” You cup his puffy, red cheeks between your hands, voice trembling. “Listen to me. I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to slip through your fingers and, fucking, I don’t know, fly away. Because I am not perfect, I am not stardust, but god, I – you’re perfect for me. You are good enough for me, more than good enough for me. You are perfect, and I’m staying here forever. You’re not going to be able to get rid of me. Understood?”

“But –”

“Understood?”

Changmin stares into your shining eyes. Even with you standing right here, hands cradling his face with the gentlest touch, he can’t quite believe you’re real and not just some beautiful figment of his imagination. Slowly, slowly, one of his hands rises to touch the fingers resting against his cheek. Just to make sure this isn’t a dream.

Solid. Warm.

Not a dream. 

This is real.

He nods dumbly, a stupid smile spreading across his face. “Okay.”

You crush him close again and this time, Changmin’s arms automatically move to wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. He can feel a few tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt as you hold him tight, so tight, and he smiles, one hand coming up to pat your back.

You’re here. You’re here, alive, solid, real. He can feel your warmth against his body, feel your hair tickling his skin.

You may be ethereal. You may be something completely out of this world, beautiful, divine. You may be sparkling, glimmering, brilliant in the morning sunlight. You may be made of stardust, something too perfect (he’ll fight you on that) to exist on earth.

But now, with you wrapped warmly in his arms, Changmin realizes that even though you may be stardust, that doesn’t mean you’re going anywhere.

A tear slips out of his eye as he smiles.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 cheek pinch for changmin idk why I just think that’d be fun <3)

[whirlybirbs]

✶  ———  MENDING  ;   d.d.

summary: something has unsettled din. you set to find out what. affections brew.   * set post!chapter 11. contains spoilers! *

pairing: din djarin x gender nuetral!reader

word count: 1.8k of pure pining ‘n’ identity crises !

a/n: it’s another notes app fic, baby! the gif above is from this set by the lovely @thewaythisis​! anyways, din can plow me like a field of wheat under the harvest moon whew (panting spongebob meme)

something is bothering him.

it would be a lie to say that din djarin was quiet soul — plainly put, he wasn’t.

he was, if anything, a purposeful and succinct soul who knew how to measure the weight of words when they were spoken. with all the little bell-like tinkers that came from his every step — beskar on beskar — quiet was not a fitting adjective to match that of din djarin. no. he was strong. sturdy. a chant of mando’a in the afternoon sun. intimidating.

something is definitely bothering him.

the ship is a wreck — you’re sure that alone is enough to strike a sore nerve with the mandalorian piloting the vessel. so, as he plots course for the little planet on the edge of nowhere that the striking bo-katan spoke of, you make work on what you can. reinforcing some structural plating, running diagnostics on the fuel-lining that runs beneath the floor plates, and welding the paneling the mon calamari engineer installed to cover the gaping hole in the side of the ship occupies you for a long while.

just the bright flicker of flame and your thoughts.

din hasn’t uttered a word since entering the ship.

you hope, at the very least, he’s taken the time to eat something away from your prying eyes.

the welding torch is hot in your gloved hands when you hear footsteps coming down the ladder into the swaying belly of the razor crest. you knew it was the wing equilibrium counter-weights the moment you took off. not much you can do about it from the inside.

the good news is that the rocking put the child right to sleep.

you pull your goggles down and watch as din djarin carefully carries the little woolen bundle to the hanging hammock within the small cot compartment. he’s exceedingly gentle, incredibly careful. once the child is inside, din dims the lights and closes the door.

you work your gloves off.

he sighs.

again, you can’t help but be struck with worry. the sort that nibbles on your heartstrings just enough to wring a flinch out of you.

“have you eaten?” he asks. his voice is even, almost cold.

you shake your head.

his helmet glints in the overhead light as he juts his chin to the cockpit; wordlessly, you stand and follow — swallows whole by his bulky shadow that looms over you as you hike yourself up the ladder.

din has done some mending of his own, it seems. the netting and twine that was keeping the dash steady had been removed. you can see the tedious, small welding marks from his own tool kit along the seams. you make a mental note to go over it later. in the corner, there’s a pile of the mess.

you land into the passenger’s seat with a huff.

the tube of protein paste that din offers you from his stash beneath the razor crest’s controls has you frowning. but, it’s bantha flavored. better than nothing. if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine it being a piece of steak.

almost.

if a steak was cold, pureed, and poured into a jerky-shaped tube.

din is quiet when swings in his chair, turning to nearly face you. he stretches, straightening his back out, then he crosses his arms. his boots plant themselves on the floor. his stance is wide. his posture is sagging.

you swallow your meal.

“did you eat?” your voice feels small.

din nods.

hm.

“... are you hurt?”

more silence. finally, he shakes his head. you know it’s a lie — the last forty-eight hours have left you both with your fair share of lacerations and deep-tissue bruising. beneath the armor, you can only imagine the sort of bruises he’s gotten.

“... tired?”

“this checklist you’re doing,” he rasps out, head lulling to the side as he looks up at the ceiling, “you should be doing it on yourself.”

you scoff into your meal paste.

“maybe.”

a grunt.

silence follows the exchange for a few minutes. it’s once you’ve managed to choke down the entirety of the bantha-flavored mush that you speak again. it’s not courage the drives the question, but concern.

“be honest, din,” you breathe, “are you alright?”

his helmet turns, t-visor glaring at you in the dim light of the cabin. you can see his fingers, gloved and tucked neatly against his biceps, twitch. he inhales deeply. the beskar glimmers with the light of stars that pass by beyond the cockpit window.

he’s rather a sight to behold.

“no.”

you’re startled back to the moment.

when you speak, your voice is soft. the sort of soft that’s begun to erode din’s usual beskar-grade composure. he’s begun to waver, begun to hesitate around you. he finds he can’t help it. he’d grown quite fond of you and your innate ability to give a shit. you’re not asking because you want to get paid, because you expect something of him. no, you’re asking because it matters to you.

he’s finally starting to understand that after cycles and cycles of time spent trying to find the child’s true place in this mess of a galaxy. you’ve been traveling with him since before nevarro — before... before the covert’s split.

before he started to feel so alone.

and confused.

and angry.

so angry.

how many moments has he denied himself because of this armor? how much kindness, how much care? how many friendships has he ignored for the sake of the creed? how many loves have come and gone, as fickle as stardust? what has he missed?

... has he truly even missed anything? that is the way.

he is all sorts of swirling bitterness now, mouth pulled into a firm line beneath the lip of his helmet. to see those others — true mandalorians, ones with clan-names, with lineage-graced armor, who speak the tongue and have touched the soil of the place he has never called home, but always idolized — reveal their faces...

he’s one of them...

children of the watch...

din’s foot taps.

you lean forward.

“din...?”

“the others,” he speaks suddenly, almost in a bark, “called my clan a coven of zealots. fringe radicalists. they showed me their faces and —”

a ragged sigh.

suddenly, you’re beginning to understand.

he’s frustrated.

“i’ve lived my life under a strict code,” din continues, helmet tilted up the ceiling. he’s tracing the bolts with his dark eyes, “one that has given me a purpose, a family, a home. but i can’t help but begin to question the cost.”

you’re listening. you’re pulling your knees up, arms cradling them close. your expression is soft.

“i thought...” then, he lets out a gritted huff of frustration, “i — i never considered my practices to be radical. i thought they were as every mandalorian lived.”

your words are soft. “... in all fairness, your people are living in a diaspora, din. the empire scattered you all to the far corners of the galaxy. it wasn’t as if you were seeing your kin every weekend."

din grunts.

you roll the hem of your tunic between your fingers.

“why is this bothering you?”

“i’ve spent my entire life in armor.”

you frown. din’s head turns and you feel a sad look pull your brows together. you hadn’t... well. his mood is beginning to make a lot of sense now. the frustration, the quiet. all of it.

“i’ve never felt the sea breeze on my face,” he continues, “or... or the kiss of another person. all because i lived my life by the creed i was raised upon. and i was told upon breaking that creed, i’d no longer have a purpose. dar’manda.”

“dar’manda?” the language is harsh on your tongue.

“to... to lose your heritage. to not be mandalorian. the covert believed that bearing your face to another outside of marriage was grounds for ex-communication from the clan. exile.”

“well,” you say after a long moment, crossing your legs and perching on the chair, “that explains the lack the kissing. certainly wasn’t the most important thing on the docket, was it?”

that manages to worm a laugh out of din. the sort that rattles his shoulders and makes his armor swell. he ducks his chin. the sound is still warm as it crackles through his vocalizer.

“interesting point of focus.”

“shut up,” you shirk, “you brought it up.”

“... do you blame me?”

you grow quiet at that but shake your head. your chin finds your hand.

“no,” you say softly, “i don’t. i’m sorry.”

“don’t be.”

“what will you do?”

din straightens a bit at that.

there’s only kindness in your eyes.

“it doesn’t matter now,” din says curtly, as if it’s the easiest answer in the world, “the child is my priority. keep you both safe is my priority.”

slowly, you amble up. your hand finds his pauldron, pressing gently into the fabric between his neck and shoulder oh-so-gently. you mind the affection blooming at his words; you’re careful with how you approach it, just as he is. as if a reflex, his hand snatches up to grip yours tightly.

you welcome it.

you squeeze the cold leather of his gloved hand.

“it does matter,” is uttered out like a sigh; din can’t look up at you. he’s sure his entire chest will burst, “you can’t bear the weight of the world on your shoulders, din.”

“i can manage.”

“let me help.”

a scoff. suddenly his hold tightens. his thumb, ever-so-carefully, ghosts the knuckle of your hand. 

“you do enough.”

it’s your turn to snort.

“i’m practically freeloading, din —”

“no,” he barks, sitting up a bit straighter. now his visor tilts up, and you swear if you looked hard enough, you could see the slope of a nose, the curve of a lip. maybe, if he tilted his head, you could see his jaw — a ghost of a beard, a flash of a throat. he is human. it’s moments like these that remind you, “no, you’re important. you care.”

“— and i eat all your food —”

“you care about me and you care about the child and it matters more than you realize.”

his tone is so final, you feel as if it’s struck an ending note. as if the conversation has ended. that the welling of emotion behind his words is not to be questioned, not to be considered. in the last few cycles, moments like these have become more frequent but still cherished. as rare as they are, they never fail to make you feel like there’s star-shine in your veins. he isn’t one for grandiose confessions. but... this feel special.

his words leave your lips parted, mouth agape. 

and then, in the tiny cockpit, hand in hand with din djarin, all you can muster is a flustered:

“you know, if that helmet wasn’t in the way i would have kissed you cycles ago.”

now, he’s embarassed. it has him laughing — but quiet and shy and all sorts of meak that make the brute of a man seem boyish. his voice is crackled alive with a new-found comfort. he is better now, more like himself and more.

“don’t feed the indentity crisis.”

[shorkbrian]

I’ve noticed a shortage of yan! Shoto :0 Whilst Kiri is my absolute fave, Todoroki needs some love too! Could I request some Yan! Shoto being absolutely touch starved and obsessed with a sweet, loving, motherly and smol reader? (it can be nsfw if you so wish!) Thank you!! (Btw, I love reading your stories, it’s a blessing in my day, even just looking at your shitposts/memes. And if you ever want to talk, jus say so. I hope you have a good day!! 🥺💞) - Sugar Anon 🧚‍♀️

Sugar anon! That is such a cute identifier and I hope to see you in my asks again!! Hopefully this is along the lines of what you were thinking!!!

It’s a very good concept btw cause like mhm him getting completely overwhelmed and overstimulated during diddly times cause he’s never had anyone be intimate with him.

Like moaning and his cheeks are flushed and oh

(Y/N) is a new doctor  at Shouto’s agency in charge of patching him up between missions and basically being his doctor. Shouto likes her gentle hands and soft touches, lets himself get a bit more scraped up then he would normally.  He’s just so touch starved and she’s so motherly and its such an intimate setting and he’s never had feelings like this before and he doesn’t know what to do.

Has yandere tendencies but tries to squash them down or hide them, tries to be normal.

One day gets hit with an aphrodisiac quirk, stumbles into her office and she’s immediately worried, once she figures out what’s up she tries to get out, lock him in there until someone stronger than he can come escort him home but he grabs her before she can get to the door. 

He’s crying cause he’s so horny it hurts (he’s never been this aroused in his LIFE) and he wanted everything to be perfect and he wanted to woo her but now he’s forcing himself on her and he can’t stop his hips from moving and he’s confessing all the bad things he’s done while he’s known her and she’s absolutely horrified, traumatized.

Warnings - NSFW, noncon, very hard noncon. Aphrodisiacs (spelling?) and a low-key weird comment about Shouto’s mommy-issues at the end. Dude is so twisted and sad and touch starved.

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“Todoroki-san, I have had to patch you up six different times in two days.”

Shouto cocked his head, staring at you with his bi-colored eyes, studying your face as you tended to the wound on his shoulder. The lilt to your voice suggested you were teasing, making small talk to distract the man as you swiped a disinfectant pad over the cut. You knew what you would be expected to do when you applied for this job, knew that heros were often injured. 

He had overseen the hiring process himself, his last doctor had left the agency for a job in a different country. Shouto held no hard feelings for the doctor, knew that as a hero he often got himself into trouble, needed a lot of attention and care. Not everyone could be expected to spend so much time with him, attending to his health - even if he was paying them a more-than adequate salary.

Most of the candidates had bored him when they came in for their scheduled interviews. Too many of them were looking at this position as a way to launch them into a nice comfortable position in a prestigious hospital. They seemed… uninterested, or too interested, some of the candidates invading his space when they came for a handshake, babbling about how much of a fan they were.

  You weren’t like that. There was a professional distance when you shook his hand, smiling at him pleasantly as you introduced himself. Then you sat down, waited for him and his team to begin asking you questions. Shouto couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to your hands, letting himself wonder whether those hands would be the right ones for the job. You looked so delicate, at least to him, a pro-hero.

But he already liked you better than any of the other candidates.

So you were hired, on the condition that you would be on a trial period for the first two months, with halved pay. It was still far above minimum wage, but Shouto was weary of hiring seemingly-normal employees only for them to turn out to just be trying to get to know him, whatever their reasons. The trial period was for his own sanity.

Currently he was sitting in your office, perched on the edge of the exam table tucked into the corner. Today he had managed to escape his most recent fight with only a few mild scrapes and bruises, but as his doctor, you needed to make sure he was okay, clean his wounds and patch him up before letting him go home for the day. It wouldn’t do anybody any good if one of the top pro heros collapsed on the job because of a lack of medical care. 

Your office was stocked with everything a doctor of your caliber could possibly need. Your “office” was really a mock hospital room, in a medium sized room located at the back of the agency. Having you on site meant that Shouto never had to bother with trips to the hospital, being swarmed by fans when he wasn’t feeling good or having someone who didn’t understand the capabilities of his quirk try to treat him.

It also meant he could relax, know that he was being taken care of. With you being so new, Shouto still had his guard up, ready for any-and-everything. So far you had been nothing but gentle.

You had hardly talked to him, other than the expected “This might sting” or “Deep breath in”. You warned him before you touched him,  but otherwise were very quiet, working diligently and professionally.  Shouto enjoyed it honestly, being able to step away from the buzz and hubbub of his agency and into his doctor’s office, where it was quiet and calm and peaceful.

Being with his mother had felt like this. Felt safe and refreshing and like a secret haven tucked away from the rest of the world.  

Clicking you tongue, you gave the pro hero a thumbs up as you stepped back. “Alright, you’re good to go! Please be safe on your way home Todoroki-san.” Shouto nodded, a stiff smile passing his lips as he rose to his feet. You were a good doctor, always took the best care of him.

“You as well Y/N.”

——

The next visit to your office revealed that you had added a few personal touches. 

A cheesy poster on the wall, directly across from the exam table, a single plant on your desk, A bowl of mini lollipops on the shelf by the door.

Cute.

Today was a short visit, just a quick once-over to make sure there weren’t any cuts or wounds that he hadn’t felt, the normal questions any quirks used against him during the day.  Shouto found himself wishing the visit had been longer as you gave him the all-clear,  moving away from the exam table so he could stand up. Before he walked out the door, you stopped him, silently handed him a lollipop. He took it,  noticing how soft your hand felt against his as he withdrew.

Shouto didn’t like sweets, but he didn’t mind accepting a lollipop from you. He could just offer it to his secretary when he passed her desk, no biggie. It was easier to do that than hurt your feelings by refusing.

Well, he knew it probably wouldn’t hurt your feelings.  He just liked seeing the little twinkle in your eye when he accepted it. He assumed the lollipops were a gag, something usually given to small children for being brave at their checkups.

He wasn’t your only patient, much as he would’ve liked. His agency had several other up-and-coming heroes, and several sidekicks, and you tended to all of them. Shouto liked to think that you saved the majority of your tenderness for him.

One time he had come in while you were setting one of the sidekick’s shoulders. You had asked him to sit down in your office chair, to give you a minute so you could finish up with his coworker. Shouto had done exactly that, watching as your soft hands gripped the sidekick hard, fingers digging in. 

“One, two, three.” You gave a countdown, forcefully jerking the shoulder back in place on “three”. The sidekick groaned at the pain, head shaking as if to clear his head from the intense sensation. You went over to your lollipop bowl, ignoring Shouto as he sat in your chair, returning to the sidekick to give him the sugary treat.

The sidekick sucked on the lollipop while you bandaged his arm into a sling, immobilizing it so it could heal. When you were done, you sent him on his way with a soft smile, before turning to Shouto.

“Todoroki-san, thank you for waiting.  How are you feeling today?”

Todoroki moved to the exam table when you motioned for him, immediately stripping off one of the boots of his hero costume.

“Hello (Y/N), it’s good to see you. I’m feeling good, got nicked by a spike during a fight today. Luckily it hit my ankle, and it’s not very painful.”

“Mm, let’s have a look.”

You kneeled down,  giving him a small warning before pulling his foot towards you, examining the tiny cut gracing his ankle. Shouto paused, closing his eyes as he relaxed at your touch. He didn’t remember the last time he felt this at-ease with another human. He didn’t know what it was about you; maybe your gentle, soft demeanor? Perhaps it was your kind touch, how you never pressed too hard and always respecting his personal space.  

Even as your fingers prodded at the cut, feeling the bone underneath, Shouto felt relaxed, content. He liked being around you, being with you. Even if the two of you hardly conversed. Maybe he could change that?

“(Y/N), how have you been finding working here?”

You looked up at him, bright eyes warm and kind. Shouto felt his chest tighten. “Oh, it’s very nice Todoroki-san! I hope I’m doing a good job attending to everyone.” With a smile, you returned to his ankle, producing an alcohol wipe from seemingly nowhere.

Shouto nodded, hands gripping the edge of the exam table. “I certainly appreciate your service. You have very tender hands.”  Just like his mom.  When he was younger, before his scare… Shouto remembered the care his mother would give to a scraped knee or a bump on his head. The soft touch, the kindness, the gentle hands - Shouto didn’t want to insult you by comparing you to his mother, so he stayed silent.

With a start, the man realized you were beaming up at him, wrapping a bandage around his ankle. He smiled back, felt his cheeks flush a little. What was this?

“Thank you! I know how important my patient is to the world.”

Ah, yes, his job. 

His job that he should probably getting back to.

Reluctantly, Shouto accepted the usual lollipop from your hands, wishing you would linger so he could feel the brush of your skin against his own.

Was he developing feelings for you?

——

It was a startling idea. Shouto never thought himself the type to have /feelings/ for someone else. When he thought of his future, it never involved another person. He didn’t want a family, didn’t want the opportunity to make the same mistakes as his father.

But as he gave the idea more thought, Shouto realized that he was feeling… something towards you. It was different to what he felt for Izuku, for Bakugou and Kirishima. He didn’t crave their touch like he did yours. Had physical contact always had such an appeal?

His last doctor had touched him, it was necessary of course to patch up his various wounds from fights. But somehow it wasn’t the same as when you touched him. 

Shouto spent each exam studying you, your features, the way you moved, how you almost skipped over to the lollipop bowl to retrieve him one at the end of the exam.  He felt drawn to you, wanted to touch your hair, hold onto your hand when you handed him the lollipop. Would you touch him if he asked? A hug maybe?

In his penthouse, Shouto mulled over his feelings, his wants and needs and how you fit in. Would it be prudent for him to start a relationship at this point in his life? Would you even consider him as a partner? No, probably not. You were much too professional, wouldn’t even think of starting a relationship with your boss. 

Maybe he could fire you.

No, no, Shouto couldn’t do that, it would make you hate him. Plus, he wouldn’t be able to see you as often. And Shouto was quickly becoming of the opinion that he wouldn’t mind seeing you more often than he did now.

He wanted more from you. He didn’t know what he wanted, but… maybe he could learn. 

——

If you noticed how frequently Shouto seemed to be visiting you, compared to his usual once-daily check up, you didn’t say anything.

Tabloids were beginning to comment on how eager the pro hero seemed to engage in hand-to-hand with villains. His usual strategy involved using his quirk, only getting his hands dirty if absolutely necessary. But now? He was constantly looking to get hit, kicked, clawed, wounded.

He had to come see you after every over-dramatic scrap with a villain.  You didn’t seem to notice, nor mind seeing his face pop around the door 3-4 times a day, sheepishly asking if you could patch up a new cut, check out a new bruise, make sure his nose wasn’t broken.

Shouto could feel himself falling, further and further into the rigid embrace of love, or at least, his version of it. Did other people experience attraction this vividly? 

He had come to terms with the fact that he was attracted to you, not just your body but your mind, your personality, your very existence.  He wanted to stay in your office, lingering after every visit and awkwardly attempting small talk just so you would interact with him, just so he could be with you a little longer. 

In the privacy of his own apartment, Shouto found himself researching on his laptop. “How to get the girl” “Ways to let her know you like her” “What does love feel like”. He felt so juvenile,  but the man was genuinely at a loss for how to deal with his feelings for you. Telling you outright wouldn’t be appropriate. You would never enter a relationship with your boss, Shouto knew this, you were too good of an employee. Flirting was not his forte, and was completely out of the question. 

So he stuck to what he knew how to do - keep his mouth shut and watch. You never turned him away from your office, never showed irritation when he showed up, never gave any sign that you were becoming tired of his presence. Shouto took this as an invitation, a sign that maybe, just maybe, you had feelings for him too. He found himself bringing his lunch down to your office, asking if he could eat there, just to get away from everyone for a little bit. You always let him, nonchalantly scrolling through your phone as you ate during your lunch break. 

Shouto was a bit embarrassed of himself when he pulled your file from the employee records. If anyone asked why, he would just tell them that he was considering giving you a raise, but wasn’t sure. That’s a valid reason to bring out an employee’s file, right? He just wanted to know where you live, if it was far from the agency. The man couldn’t stomach the thought of you, gentle, little (Y/N)  having to walk home alone at night, or take the train with all the creeps that could be there. 

When he came upon your address, Shouto made a note to ask if you’d like him to drive you home. It was at least a thirty minute drive, he didn’t want to think about how you usually got home. What if something happened to his doctor? When he broached the subject, Shouto thought he did pretty well at acting nonchalant.

“The weather’s getting colder, isn’t it?”

You nodded, wrapping gauze around a nasty gash on his calf.

“I feel bad for anyone who has to walk during the evenings.” He stated.

“Aw, it’s not that bad in my opinion.” You took the bait “I walk home from the train station every night and the weather isn’t awful. It’ll probably get nasty as winter comes though.”

“You have to take the metro to get home? Where do you live.” As if he didn’t know. But you’d recoil if he offered just yet, probably be weirded out that he knew your address.

“Yeah, I live over in the Shikuyu district. It’s a really pretty walk in the fall though, all those trees turning different colors.”

Shouto wrung his hands, taking a deep breath. “Let me drive you home tonight, there’s been some criminal activity going down over there and it’s not one of my sectors. I need my doctor safe.”

You tried to protest, and Shouto let you, but ultimately pulled the boss card, insisting that he needed to take care of his employees, especially one that he bothered so much.

“You never bother me Todoroki-san.” You laughed, dropping a lollipop into Shouto’s lap.

Shouto kept his face from souring, missing the usual contact of your gentle, silky-soft hands as you handed the treat to him. But it was fine, he would get more time with you. In his car, just the two of you, outside of work.

Then he registered what you said, and his head snapped up, eyes wide and roving over you as you turned away, cleaning up the exam table and messy supplies. 

It was all the confirmation he needed.

——

After the first time Shouto drove you home, you refused to let him go out of his way to help you out. Still, he was your boss and he could insist that you at least call an uber, or a cab. He didn’t feel comfortable sending his little doctor off onto the train every night after work. Shouto even upped your pay so you could afford it easier, saying there was no reason to be unsafe.

It was hard for him to know if he was being too suffocating.  He didn’t want for you to regret your statement about him never bothering you.

So he had his agency install new security cameras. 

One was placed in your office, where there hadn’t been one before. You weren’t too pressed when Shouto asked you what you thought of the upgrades, said you could see the sense in making sure the building was safe, especially the doctor’s office, where the heroes would be at their most vulnerable. 

Shouto agreed - he was always at his most vulnerable when he was around you.

But now he could stop letting his body take a beating in order to see you. He could sit in his office, busy himself with paperwork and have the security feed from your office pulled up on his laptop. Half the time Shouto got distracted, abandoning the paperwork in order to watch you work, treating sidekicks and heroes-in-training and anyone else the agency had hired. 

He tried to ignore the bitter pang of jealousy that reared it’s head.

Shouto knew jealousy, knew anger and negative emotions very well. His childhood had been littered with nothing but bad memories and negative moments. The only time he felt at peace was when he was curled in his mom’s lap, the woman running slender fingers through his bi-colored hair. Sometimes, when he was still very small, she would have the time to read him a story before bedtime. 

She was such an amazing woman. 

Shouto saw her in you.

The way you tended to him so gently, delicately treating his wounds. How you carded through his hair, just like his mom used to, when you were checking for head wounds. The way your lovely hands pressed against his back when you felt to see if a rib was cracked, rubbing each rib slow and soft, pressing. It was just like how his mom would rub his back.

The man swore your touch was addictive. He wanted more and more and more and he didn’t have a clue as how to get it.  Shouto had to be satisfied with fleeting brushes when he moved before you were ready, accidentally jostling you against his body. Or telling you (lying) that his body was hurting, sore, it didn’t quite feel right. You would do your best to check for any injuries, asking where it hurt (usually his torso “hurt”) and then skimming your hands very carefully over the skin there.

Shouto imagined how nice it would be to fall asleep with your hands on him. He wasn’t stupid.  He was getting too attached, too invested, was practically stalking your at this point. He shouldn’t be doing this, lying to you, watching you. But he didn’t know what else to do.

Guilt was beginning to take root in his mind.

One day he knew he would have to tell you, confess his feelings and deal with the outcome. You would accept him, hopefully. Shouto felt afraid for what he would do if you didn’t.

——

Shouto felt hot, disoriented, thirsty. He was pretty sure he was in your office, had gotten hit with a villains quirk during a fight. Apparently it had knocked him out, as he didn’t remember even coming into the agency.

Muffled voices could be heard past the closed door, and Shouto winced at the noise, at the light, at the feelings of his clothes against his skin. Everything felt  too much.  He stumbled off the exam table, yup, your office, and moved towards the light switch, stripping off his shirt as he did so. 

The voices outside were still making noise, but with the light off Shouto felt a little better. His remaining clothes were still bothering him. His head felt fuzzy. His boots came off, followed by his pants. He wanted to take off his boxers, but his rational mind supplied how bad of an idea that would be. What if you came in?

At the thought of his little doctor, Shouto’s stomach jolted in arousal. Confused, the man peered down, surprised to find himself completely hard in his boxer briefs. He knew he considered you very attractive, but it usually took a fair bit of stimulus before he found himself aroused. 

Shouto gulped as he climbed back onto the exam table, immediately curling onto his side towards the wall. He was practically panting with the heat of the room, sweating and drooling. Wait, drooling?

The door opened.

“Todoroki-san, I have bad news.”

Your voice was so sweet, like warm honey. Shouto shivered when he heard it, his cock twitching between his legs. He wanted to turn to you, stand up, pull you close. But he… he shouldn’t.

“You got hit by an aphrodisiac quirk. It’s going to take a bit to leave your system, and will probably be uncomfortable until then. I’m going to leave some supplies in case you would like to use them, but I will be taking my leave after getting you settled. The rest of your team and I have decided it’s safer for you to remain in this room than attempt to move you back home. We will be locking the door so no one can come in.”

And you can’t get out.

You didn’t have to say it,. Shouto heard you shuffling around the room behind him, he was so hot, sweat was beading all over his body.

“(Y/N), Why am I so warm?” Shouto groaned out, trembling. It felt like he was sick but with… arousal.

Objects were set down on your desk, before Shouto heard you step towards him.

“The quirk is going to make your libido hyperactive for the next twelve hours or so. It’s very likely that you will be aroused and craving stimulation.”

You sounded so clinical, so robotic, none of the usual warmth in your tone when you talked to Shouto. He wanted to whine, cry that you weren’t treating him the way you usually did.  And when he needed your help too! His rational brain was telling him that you were trying to be professional, give your mostly-naked boss privacy. 

HIs rational brain told him to stay still, wait until you left the room to grab whatever you had left for him on the desk.  It was entirely possible that he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from grabbing your hands if he turned. He wanted to feel your hands on him, running over his torso, rubbing his back, cupping his cheek. He wanted your touch, so, so bad. 

Shouto decided it was time for his rational brain to shut up.

When he turned over, sitting up, you looked like a deer caught in the headlights, already halfway to the door.

“(Y/N)” Shouto rasped, rising to his feet unsteadily. The arousal pooling in his gut was overwhelming - he couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so hard.  His penis was so rigid that it hurt, throbbing in his boxers.

You took a step back, eyes trained firmly on Shouto’s face, determined to not let them stray below the belt.  

Shouto didn’t know what was happening, couldn’t rationalize any of it. The man wasn’t even in control of himself, feeling as if some demon from hell had invaded his body, taken his dirty thoughts and insisted that he act upon them right now.

The pro hero didn’t even know when he had grabbed you, but then he was pressing you up against his body and it felt so good that the man whimpered. A low, needy sound, softer than the spluttering and shocked noises tumbling from your mouth as you pushed against your boss, trapped in his grip.

“Todoroki-san! Please let go! The quirk-!”

Shouto didn’t listen, didn’t want to. He started grinding his hips against yours, breathing hard through his nose at the pleasure roaring into his veins at the simple contact, his dick pressing into your stomach. 

It wasn’t enough though, he needed more.

Shouto dragged you to the exam table, manhandled you up against the flat surface and bent you over despite your struggling, the shouts of “No! Stop!”. Should he stop? Probably. But he wanted this. Had ever since he realized that he loved you, although it hadn’t been this intense before. With one quick movement, Shouto pulled off your scrubs, discarding your underwear in the same movement. He wasn’t concerned about foreplay - he needed, he needed all of you right now.

But the man couldn’t resist falling to his knees behind you, hands moving their iron grip from your palms to your thighs. His fingertip dug into your flesh, dimpling up your skin as he leaned forward, your pussy exposed oh so prettily for him.

Shouto didn’t know if you were screaming or crying or begging for more. He was too focused on the juicy flesh in front of him, leaning forward quickly to greedily slurp at the pink slit. He felt you jump, try to straighten your back but he let his hold on his quirk weaken, simultaneously heating and freezing each thigh held in his grasp. 

You quickly resumed the position he had put you in.

The pro hero couldn’t get enough, licking and sucking with fervent desperation at your folds, no rhythm or technique whatsoever. He couldn’t think, not with his face buried between your legs, your thighs shaking in his hold, your sweet little cries (“Todoroki-san /please/! Stop!”) filling the air. 

It could have been seconds, or minutes, Shouto had no concept of what was happening, only that you were the best fucking thing he had ever tasted in his life, and he needed everything you had to give him. He couldn’t stop himself from trying to burying his face closer, trying to spread your thighs further and further so he could reach deeper into your puffy pussy.

Your cum gushed onto his tongue, and the man slurped it up, reveling in the stick, wet sensation. 

He couldn’t ignore his dick any longer.

Letting go of your thighs, Shouto stood, pushing his boxer briefs down his legs as fast as he could, desperate to sheath himself inside your cunt. He could barely breathe, was so aroused he was light-headed with need.

With his boxers off, the man pressed close to you again, lifting one of your legs to brace it on the table, forcing you to go on tiptoe. When the head of his dick met your folds, Shouto felt his cock jump, the strange sensation making butterflies rise in his stomach. 

“Mmhm, (Y/N) I don’t know-I don’t know what’s happening.” Shouto confessed, one hand on your hip, the other guiding his thick cock into your pussy. “You just-oh, you look so good, always - always do. I need to feel - need to feel you so bad.”

He could feel your body trembling, and it briefly crossed his mind that you were probably crying. But his arousal slammed into him like a truck the moment he let his hips twitch forward, sliding his length into your wet pussy. “Oh god, oh-oh god, oh!”

Shouto came, crying into your neck, saliva dripping from his mouth and onto your heated flesh.

To his surprise, his dick was still hard, and the arousal was still pushing, urging, needy.

“(Y/N), I don’t - I’m so sorry.” Shouto stuttered, pulling back just to have his hips plunge forward again. You were so warm, so wet from your own orgasm and from his cum sliding inside you. It was heaven. 

Shouto had never touched, nor been touched this much in his entire  life. He didn’t know what to do, how to feel; it felt like his brain was on fire, and with each desperate snap of his hips, he was throwing on more and more gasoline. He had longer stamina this time, pounding you into the edge of the table for what felt like forever until his hips stuttered, his legs shaking as he orgasmed inside you.

When Shouto felt himself steady, he was horrified to find himself /still/ aroused. “I’m sorry (Y/N), This isn’t - I didn’t want to do it like this.” He was crying as he rutted against you, tears dripping hot onto your back. “I’ve been trying to be perfect, plan - plan dates, a relationship, anything, as long as it’s you.”

The man buried his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling raggedly. “It can only ever be you.”

His clarity was returning, each orgasm making him feel less and less feverish. At this point, his cock hurt, and he was too sensitive, but still, his hips wouldn’t stop. 

“I was going - going to ask if we could go out.” A lie, but it felt like the right thing to say. You were definitely crying underneath him, Shouto would be lower than trash if he didn’t try to comfort you. You didn’t need to know that the pro hero would rather have made you his home-doctor than ask you out. That way you’d be at his house, waiting for him, just like a pretty little wife, like a mother.

“I love you… think I always have.”

It felt good for Shouto to admit it out loud.