#can someone teach me how to ease up and stop being so anxious

[harubirus]

guys.... i've forgotten how to socialise....

[nanaslutt]

oh my god please make another part of gojo teaching us that was so good holy shit

Gojo teaches you how to touch him<3

Pt. 1 here

contains: fem reader, guided jerking off, experienced gojo, size kink if you squint, so much dirty talk, corruption kink, overstimulation, first time making out, gojo walks you through everything, cum eating

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

“Wanna learn how to touch a dick?” his question rang in your ears like a flash grenade had gone off. He was referring to himself right? You had to remind yourself how to breathe at how anxious his question made you. Touching yourself had made you embarrassed and self aware enough as it is, so touching someone else? The thought made you feel mortified.

Gojo must’ve picked up on your anxiousness because he used his big hands to rub comfortingly up and down your forearms, “Hey, if you’re not comfortable we can always stop here, you’ve already done so good.” He comforted.

Gojo might be unserious 99% of the time, but when it came to making you feel safe, he really nailed it. You came to the right person in asking for help with this kind of thing.

"N-no, I think I want to its just.. I dont know what im doing." You confess, even though he already knew. Gojo giggled, making the weight on your shoulders lift a bit at the sound, "Baby, I know, thats why Im gonna teach you, if you’ll let me." He smiles, leaning his body forward so you could see his face-- the visual of him smiling eased your nerves slightly.

"Right.. but what if I'm still not any good?" You say, shyly. "I almost came in my pants just watching you cum so.. I'm pretty sure you will do juuust fine." He confessed, making you huff out a laugh. "O-okay, what should I do?" You asked, turning your body so you were facing him, reaching over to grab your previously discarded panties while you waited for him to answer.

"The first thing you can do is forget about these," Gojo took your soaked panties from your hand, making you scoff as he twirled them around his finger before pocketing the fabric as quick as he snatched them, "The view of your little pussy is so cute, don't want these to get in the way of this eye candy." He praised, making you blush and look away from his intimidating gaze.

He brought his hand up to your face after pulling his hand out of his pocket-- caressing the side of your cheek comfortingly, "Come here." He instructed, sliding down on the headboard so he was propped comfortingly against the pillows, "On my lap," He adds when you hesitate to move twords him.

You situated yourself comfortably on his thighs, right under his crotch, you placed your hands on his lower stomach, staring at his intimidating bulge while you waited for his words to come. "You wanna start by touching it over his pants, just like you did for yourself." He instructs, speaking generally.

You picked your hands up from his stomach, hovering them a couple inches over his crotch before taking a deep breath and biting your lip. "How should I.. touch it?" you ask uncertainty laced in your words. "Wrap your hand around it the best you can and rub," He tells you, placing his hands on your thighs and rubbing his thumb on your skin for comfort.

You held your breath before you made contact with him, making him hiss air into his lungs through his teeth at the feeling of properly being touched after so much tension. You softly rubbed him up and down, gulping at how big he felt in your hand. "You can rub a little harder, it's not gonna break," He laughed, making you blush and whisper out a quiet 'sorry' as you briefly made eye contact with him, quickly averting your gaze back down to his crotch.

You gripped him through his pants, stroking him rougher now but still slowly, up and down. You took a peek at his face from under your lashes, watching him lick his lips and blink rapidly, his eyes focused on your hand at work on him.

"Yeah, yeah, just like that." He praised, keeping his eyes glued down between the two of you. You felt your face heat up when his cock jumped against your hand, it felt so hot even through his pants. The thought of seeing a real dick, unobstructed by fabric was making your head spin.

The man underneath you truly thought he would've came the second you touched him, it was a miracle from the heavens that he had managed to hold back and not bust in his pants at the first contact.

Your inexperience turned him on to no extent. He just loved the idea of corrupting you, showing you all of the amazing things you could feel, everything that you've been missing out on. He swore he would ruin you for anyone else—make you addicted to him so you never even thought about doing this with anyone else.

"D-does this feel good?" You ask genuinely, you had noticed his expressions and reactions to your touch—and they seemed like good ones—but you had no idea how someone was supposed to react when you touched them like this, hence why you asked for his confirmation.

"Feels better than you know." He grinned, his body running warmer the longer you stroked him over his pants. "It feels so big." You confessed, unaware of how your words went straight to his head and dick.

"Yeah?" his smirk grew as he felt his own ego inflate at your words, not like he needed that. "Yeah.." You meekly replied, "It keeps twitching too," you told him like he was unaware. "I know baby, means you're doing a good job." He praised once more, making you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Wanna see it?" He asked after he deemed that you had been touching him outside his pants for an adequate amount of time. You swallowed hard, stilling your hand on his cock as it continued to jump under the weight of your palm. "Yes, please." You answered, sliding your hands up his shirt and feeling his hard abs before you slid them back down to hold onto the hem of his pants. "Should I take your boxers off too, or?" You question, hesitating.

He smiled at you, giving you a short nod. You grabbed his pants and boxers alike, beginning to pull them down his body— gojo lifted his hips up to aid your efforts, jaw dropping in an open-mouthed smile when his hard cock sprung up and slapped against his abdomen.

Your mouth opened in a small o shape, running dry at the sheer size of his now unobstructed cock. There was a string of pre that had already dropped down against his abdomen, connecting the two.

It looked as thick as it felt, a nice upwards curve to it, and the tip was flushed a pretty pink color. It was the prettiest and only dick you’d ever seen.

“You like what you see, cutie?” he teased, making his cock jump as you stared between the appendage and his penetrating gaze. “Fuck.. y-yeah.” you confessed, feeling yourself start to throb between your legs at the new visual.

“Go ahead an touch it, the same as you did before.” Gojo instructed. You slowly reached out, wrapping your hand around his length, noticing that your fingers couldn’t wrap all the way around his girth.

The man underneath you couldn’t resist as he thrusted his hips up into your hand, biting his lip at the direct contact. “Your hand is so fucking soft” He praised, “Go ahead and spit on it for me, it doesn’t feel very good when it’s dry.” he told you.

The gears in your head were still turning at what you were actually doing right now. Without saying anything, you leaned down a bit, collecting the saliva in your mouth before you spit right onto his cockhead, making him gasp.

You brought your hand to his tip, rubbing it around in circles before sliding your hand down the length of his cock and coating it in your spit, easing the slide. “Fuuuck, just like that, shit-“ Gojo cursed, tipping his head back against the pillows and squeezing his eyes shut.

“S-squeeze harder at the tip,” he instructed, remembering he was supposed to be teaching you, so staying silent and moaning probably wouldn’t do you much good. “T-the tip is more sensitive than the rest of the cock, so make sure to pay more attention to it.” he tells you.

“Is it kinda like the clit?” You ask, which makes him giggle before he responds, “Sorta..” he answeres, staring at the ceiling in thought before he continues, “Yeah actually, pretty similar, but if you spend too much time on just the tip it can get a little too sensitive.” He explains.

“Sensitive how?” you ask, continuing your slow but heavy strokes on his cock, using the knowledge he just told you in squeezing harder against his tip. “Why don’t I show you?” he says.

“Take one hand and keep stroking me just like you’re doing, with the other, lay your palm flat- yeah just like that- then curl your hand over the entirety of my tip, and rotate your wrist in circles.” Gojo instructed, digging his nails into your thighs prematurely as he braced himself for the intense overstimulating pleasure that was about to come.

“This won’t hurt you right?” you ask, getting your hands into place but keeping them still as you awaited his answer. “You’re so sweet~” he cooed, “I’ll stop you if it’s too much.”

With that, you started, quickly jerking the length of his cock while rotating your wrist over his dick in quick circles. Immediately his body started reacting, back arching and abs clenching uncontrollably as he bit his lip and dug his nails deeper into your skin to keep himself grounded.

“K- haaah- keep g-going-“ he moaned out, his legs jerking and twitching underneath you as you kept up your antics. “Fuck! f-fuck-“ The white haired man squeezed his eyes shut as his body spasmed without his permission.

Your cunt was throbbing at how you were able to bring a man as strong as Gojo to this state. “Ngh~” he was whining and moaning against the sheets, head thrashing back and forth as he tried to keep his voice down.

You never wanted this to end, you finally understood what he meant when he said he was worked up from just watching you play with yourself, as you felt your cunt clench, slick dripping down your leg from your tight hole.

His large hand came down to stop your wrist, panting heavily he spoke, “O-okay, okay- fuck, that’s enough.” He groaned when the pleasure quickly became too much. "S-sorry, are you okay?" you choked, once again making him smile at how sweet you were. "I'm just fine baby, it's just a little overwhelming," He said, releasing your wrist and placing his hand back on your thighs.

"Did so fucking good though, listened just like I told you to." He smirked, gripping your thighs and making you look up at him through your lashes. You pouted out your bottom lip a bit in embarrassment, trying your best to not look away from his intimidating gaze. "Alright, class is back in session, go ahead and pick up where you left off." He continued.

You released your hand that was caressing his tip, going back to jerking him off steadily with the one hand. "Don't forget about the balls either, you just wanna massage them softly," he instructs after a couple seconds of your continued ministrations. You nod, acknowledging his words before you spit on your other hand, and bring it down to his warm balls.

"Oh shit- haha- didn't even have to tell you to spit." He says, amazement laced in his words, "You had n-nothing to worry about, you're doing so fucking good." He reassured when you started to expertly roll and massage his sack in your hand, timing your motions perfectly with the jerking of his cock.

"Cmere baby," He asked, growing needier and needier at the more stimulation you provided him with. You tilted your head at him, confused, making him laugh. "Come give me a kiss, pretty thing." He clarifies. You hesitate slightly, You've kissed one or two people before, but you've never made out with anyone per se, which is what you were assuming Gojo wanted right now.

"Follow my lead, I'll show you how to make kissing feel as good as sex." He boldly said, making you blush. You released your hold on his balls, opting to place your hand against his hard chest for stability as you leaned forward, not stopping your ministrations on his cock. He gave you a toothy grin, his big hands coming up to grab your waist before he opened his mouth, huffing out a small laugh before he pressed your lips together.

He immediately took the lead, moving his lips against your own, massaging his soft lips with his. He groaned into the kiss, which made you reciprocate the sound, whining into his mouth. Where you normally would've pulled away by now, Gojo instead opened his mouth against you and pressed another kiss to your lips, repeating the action, and continuing the kiss.

You unawarely squeezed his cock harder at the stimulation, you had no idea that kissing could feel so erotic. When Gojo felt your fist tighten up around him, he pulled back half an inch from the kiss, panting slightly against your lips before he spoke needily, "Faster baby, give it to me faster." He rushed before conjoining your lips once more, rougher this time.

You felt him poke his tongue out and lick against your lips, "Open your mouth for me, baby," He said to you between kisses, to which you complied. He took this new opportunity to lick his tongue into your mouth. You thought French kissing would feel gross and unpleasant, but this was nothing of the sort, it really felt like he was fucking your mouth. He expertly massaged the inside of your mouth with his warm appendage, making you throb between your legs.

You remembered his words; which had told you to follow his lead; as you reciprocated, darting your tongue out and intertwining it with his, and it felt even better. "Mmmmm" Gojo hummed against your lips when he felt your tongue join the fun. Hips lips suddenly attached to your bottom one, slowing down the kiss briefly as he sucked it into his mouth and bit it between his teeth, smirking before he let it go, chasing your lip as it bounced back to your face.

You had switched up your technique on his cock just seconds ago, rotating your wrist over his entire cock, and pulsing your grip to imitate your pussy walls, giving him harder strokes when you slid your hand down him; you were having fun with it, and it must've been working.

Gojo pulled away from the kiss, allowing you to sit back up as he panted heavily, his cock was steadily dripping more and more pre onto your fingers, easing the slide against his cock while you jerked him off. "Did you like that?" He asked, referring to the kiss. "Y-yeah, I didn't know kissing could feel so good," you replied honestly, making him smile.

"I know~ made your pussy feel all needy again, huh?" he said, having noticed the wetness that was coating your inner thighs, his words sending a wave of sudden awareness through you, making you want to cower away. "Aww, don't get shy on me baby, look at me," He started, "I'm the one getting my cock jerked off, about to fucking burst," The man giggled, "If anyone should be embarrassed it's me~"

"You're about to cum?" You asked, those words being the only ones that made it into your dizzy head. "Yeah, and it's all cos' of you, didn't even have to give you that much i-instruction, you're a pro." he praised, making you look away from his gaze and instead focus on his cock in your smaller hand. "You wanna make me cum?" He asked.

"Wanna watch you cum.." You replied, making him laugh breathlessly as he felt your words go straight to his balls, "Oh don't worry, you will," He informed you, tipping his head back once more against the pillows, and letting himself really feel as you stroked your fingertips along his lower abs, while keeping the steady and mind numbing pace on his cock.

"Fuck, wish I was cuming inside your pussy," He suddenly moaned, catching you off guard with his words as he gripped your hips with his large hands. "Would fill you up so fucking full." He babbled, inching closer and closer to his high with every stroke, slightly thrusting up into your warm hand.

proofread-----

"If I try hard enough, your little hand starts to feel like your perfect fucking cunt," He groaned through his teeth, "but I just know you would be so much warmer and wetter- fuck-." He moaned at his own words, working himself up as he dropped his chin forward to look at your hand on him, his jaw opened in a small o shape.

"You want that? Huh? Want me to split you open on my cock and fill you up with my cum?" His words had gotten so filthy and shameless, and so fast, it was giving you whiplash. You nodded meekly, not trusting your voice right now as his words alone made you feel like you were going to cum. But that wasn't good enough for Gojo. "Gotta hear you say it baby, need you to tell me you need it." He groaned through his teeth, making your body move above him as he thrust his hips upwards, helping you fuck his cock with your hand.

"Y-yes Satoru I want it." You said, meaning every word, "What do you want?" He rushed out, trying to hold back from cumming to hear you say those magic words. His balls and shaft alike were twitching so strongly against your hold, getting ready to release his seed. "W-want you to come inside me, please give it t-to me." You blushed at your own words, the embarrassment worsening when he groaned shamelessly at them. His pretty eyes rolled back in his head as his orgasm crashed down on him. "Fuck- coming-" he warned before you felt his warm seed start to cover your hand.

Long rope after rope of his cum coated your hard, making you moan with him at the erotic sight. His abs were clenching under your hand, body twitching and back arching slightly, similar to how your own did when you had cum, as you fucked him through his high. You kept jerking him off even after the spasms of his body ceased, and his cock started to soften in your hold.

His large hand shot up and gripped your wrist harshly. "C-careful," He laughed, heaving air into his lungs, "It's so fucking sensitive right after we cum." He said.

"Shit s-sorry," You blushed, releasing his dick from your soiled hand as you stared at his seed that covered it, amazed by how much there was. "Don't be sorry baby, I haven't cum that hard in my life, and all just from your hand" He laughed, rubbing his large hands up the length of your torso while he let himself catch his breath, his soft cock resting against his tummy.

An idea popped into your head, remembering how he had sucked off your cum from your own fingers after he made you finish, and it made you wonder what he tasted like too. Absentmindedly you brought your hand up to your mouth, not paying attention to the man below you as he watched your every movement with bated breath, knowing exactly what you were about to do.

You let your tongue poke out from your open mouth, licking up his seed at tasting him on your tongue. It was bitter, but not overwhelmingly so, there was something almost sweet about it, which made you suck your fingers completely into your mouth, swallowing his seed that coated them.

Gojo watched with a slack jaw at the show you were putting on, his cock twitched to life as he watched you eagerly lick up his cum. "Fuuuck." He drew, bringing your attention back to him as you popped your fingers out of your mouth, giving him a small smile that made his brain short-circuit.

"I have so much to teach you." He grinned, caressing the side of your face as you closed your eyes, and leaned your face into his hand.

pt.3

[harrysfolklore]

driving lessons - op81

summary: oscar piastri teaches his girlfriend how to drive for the first time

MASTERLIST | JOIN MY PATREON

Life is full or ironies, and the fact that your boyfriend is an F1 driver and you don't even know how to drive is definitely one of them.

You always found it funny how someone who could navigate the most challenging race circuits with ease was dating someone who couldn't even navigate a parking lot, and was utterly terrified of being behind the wheel.

"I just can't believe you don't know how to drive," Oscar said while you were having dinner at his place one night.

"Excuse me, mister. Not all of us dreamed of driving cars for a living since we were kids," you teased, making him chuckle.

"Well, I guess I'll have to teach you how to drive, since that's what I do for a living."

You laughed at his enthusiasm, shaking your head. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm a lost cause when it comes to driving. I get anxious just thinking about it."

"Oh come on," he threw his head back, "I'll be a great teacher. We'll start slow, maybe in an empty parking lot. If it doesn't work out, we can stop anytime."

You thought about it for a second, you were at an age that it was downright embarrassing to not know how to drive, and maybe Oscar could actually help you face your fear of being behind the wheel.

"Okay," you agreed, "But you have to promise not to laugh at me, and we're not using a one of your McLaren luxury cars."

Oscar's eyes lit up with excitement. "Deal! We'll use something more… beginner-friendly."

"Beginner-friendly?" you raised an eyebrow, "Like what? A go-kart?"

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it," he laughed, "But no, I was thinking more along the lines of a nice, safe, regular car."

"Fine, but you have to be patient with me," you warned, pointing a finger at him, "I mean it, Oscar. One hint of frustration and I’m out."

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I promise. Scout's honor."

"You were never a scout," you narrowed your eyes playfully.

"Minor detail," he waved off your accusation, making you laugh, "Seriously though, I think you'll surprise yourself. You're tougher than you give yourself credit for."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," you retorted, but you couldn't help but smile.

"Maybe not, but it might get me dessert," he shrugged, leaning closer, "And maybe a makeout session before we head to bed."

You threw your head back in laughter, grabbing his cheeks playfully and pecking his lips a couple of times.

"You're a teenager," you said, shaking your head. "But fine, you get dessert, and you snogging session. Just remember, no racing techniques, I don't need to learn how to drift around corners."

"Drifting? In your first lesson?" he placed a hand on his chest in mock offense, "I'm hurt you think so little of me."

"When are we doing this again?" you said, moving to place your empty plates in the dishwasher.

"How about this weekend?" Oscar hoped off his stool, helping you clean around the kitchen, "I'll find us a nice, empty parking lot, and we can take it from there."

"Oscar Piastri, F1 driver with podiums to his name will teach his girlfriend how to drive in a parking lot," you said as you shook your head, "How ironic."

Saturday morning arrived and it was time for your first driving lesson. After breakfast, you and Oscar headed to the empty parking lot in a small, compact car for the lesson. It was far less intimidating than one of his sleek, luxurious cars.

"Alright, let's get started," he said, opening the driver's side door for you. You took a deep breath and slid into the seat, adjusting it to fit your height, Oscar got in the passenger seat and handed you the keys.

"First things first," he began, his voice calm and steady, "Let's go over the basics. Adjust your mirrors so you can see clearly, and get comfortable with the controls."

You nodded, following his instructions. Once you were settled, he guided you through starting the car and putting it into gear.

"Wait," you said before starting the car, "You're teaching your dummy of a girlfriend how to drive a regular car, okay? Don't expect some professional Formula 1 driver stuff from me."

"I promise, just the basics," Oscar chuckled, shaking his head, "We won't be racing anyone today."

"Okay, here goes nothing," you took a deep breath and turned the key in the ignition, the engine coming to life with a low hum.

"Great job," Oscar said with a small smile, "Now, put the car in drive and slowly take your foot off the brake."

You hesitated, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over you. "What if I mess up?"

"You won't," he said confidently, "And even if you do, it's all part of the learning process. Just take it slow."

You took a deep breath and lifted your foot off the brake. The car began to roll forward and for a moment, everything seemed fine until you pressed the gas pedal a bit too hard. The car jerked forward, causing you to panic and slam on the brakes.

"Whoa, easy there," Oscar said, "You're not at Silverstone, remember?"

"This is so much harder than it looks," you huffed, feeling your frustration bubble up, "How do you make it seem so effortless?"

"Years of practice and maybe a little natural talent," he winked, "But seriously, you're doing fine. It's all about getting a feel for the car, let's try it again."

Taking a deep breath, you eased off the brake and gently pressed the gas pedal. This time, the car moved forward smoothly, and you couldn't help but smile at the small victory.

"See? You're getting it!" Oscar encouraged. "Now, let's try a gentle turn. Just steer to the right."

You gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning it slowly to the right. The car responded, and you managed to navigate the turn without any major issues. But as you straightened out, you accidentally hit the windshield wiper lever, causing them to whip back and forth at full speed.

Oscar burst out laughing, and you couldn't help but join in, despite your embarrassment.

"Well, at least we know the wipers work!" he joked.

"Ugh, I feel stupid," you groaned, fumbling to turn off the wipers.

"It's okay, baby," he leaned in to peck your cheek quickly.

"Stop kissing me, I'll get distracted," you teased.

"Okay, okay," he said, composing himself, "Let's try another lap around the parking lot. This time, no wiper incidents."

You nodded, determined to get the hang of it. You practiced driving around the empty lot, getting more comfortable with each turn and stop.

As the lesson continued, you found yourself improving bit by bit, though there were still moments of frustration.

"Ugh, why won't this stupid thing go where I want it to?" you groaned, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"Hey, it's okay," Oscar said soothingly. "You're doing great. Just remember to relax your grip a bit. The car will respond better if you're not strangling the wheel."

You did as he said, and you found yourself driving more comfortably around the parking lot, improving with your turns and stops.

"You know," he said at one point, "If you keep this up, you'll be ready to join the grid next season."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Yeah, right. I'll leave the racing to you, thank you very much."

"Fair enough," he said, grinning, "It would be really hard to fight with my girlfriend for the championship."

"Is your girlfriend Max Verstappen and I'm just finding out?" you teased, making him laugh.

"That's a secret I'll never tell," he joked, causing you both to burst into laughter.

After a few more laps around the parking lot, you were feeling more confident behind the wheel. Until the final challenge of the day approached: parking the car.

"Let’s try parking," he suggested after a while, "Find a spot and take it slow."

You spotted an empty space and carefully guided the car into it, but misjudged the angle and ended up crooked. You groaned in frustration. "Why is parking so hard?"

Oscar laughed, shaking his head. "Well, parking an F1 car in the garage is definitely easier, no tight spaces to worry about."

"Ha-ha, very funny," you retorted, but couldn't help but laugh along with him, "Alright, let me try again."

You pulled out and tried parking again, failing to get the car neatly within the lines. "How was that?"

"Okay, so maybe parking isn't your strong suit yet," he teases, "Good thing you're not in a pit stop competition."

"Fine, I had enough for today," you said, unbuckling your seat belt, "I'm ready to go back to being your passenger princess."

Oscar laughed, getting out of the passenger seat and switching positions with you.

"You did great, really," Oscar said once he settled in the drivers seat, leaning over to kiss you, "I'm proud of you, you know. You really pushed through your fear today."

"And we're both still alive so that's a good thing," you joked, making him laugh, "Thank you for being a great teacher, baby."

"All I did was sit here and provide moral support, it's not like I know anything about driving or cars," he teased, "You did all the hard work."

You rolled your eyes with affection, leaning in to kiss him again.

"Maybe next time we'll try an actual road," he suggested.

"Or maybe you can teach me how to do a proper donut," you said, making him throw his head back in laughter.

"Only if you promise not to tell the team."

[jiminrings]

hybrid!tae prologue :D

Taehyung doesn’t take well to change.

To put it bluntly, he’s poor at it. He’s only ever been with his coalition since birth, their living situation growing scrambled now that they’ve graduated. From living with six other packmates, it’s narrowed down to just living with Jimin. They’re on the same boat the last time he checked — wanting to take a year of rest before actually working and expanding their opportunities (like his other packmates did) since getting their degrees.

That’s not what Jimin’s saying now though.

“Cheer up, Tae! I’ll be rooming with Yoongi and Hoseok in the city. You don’t have to be worried for me,” Jimin reassures him, about to put a comforting hand on Taehyung’s back when the younger quite literally hisses at him.

“I’m not worried for you, I’m worried for me!” Taehyung whisper-yells, anxiety already bubbling at his stomach. Who will he live with then? Cheetahs can live alone but it doesn’t mean he’s necessarily good and confident at it. Hell, even his packmates who moved out live with atleast one of the others.

“How brotherly of you. So sweet, so… typical,” Jimin grimaces, nose upturned at Taehyung’s response to his plan of moving out. He knows how Taehyung has always been a little more anxious than the rest of them; a little more attached, the one with the tendency to hang around like a shadow for the rest of the day when he’s feeling particularly unsociable. 

It’s in their nature, Taehyung’s most specifically, to feel a little more desperate for consistency and familiarity. He can’t help but to feel anxious, even now at the impending and probable reality of living without any of his packmates he’s lived with almost his whole life.

He resents change. He’s more scared of it than he is bitter. The other day, Jimin took the liberty of cooking breakfast for the both of them and made the tiny mistake of putting Taehyung’s coffee in a new, green mug rather than his faded blue mug that had a print of a cartoon shark on it.

Jimin’s not kidding when he says Taehyung almost did the 4-7-8 breathing technique right then and there at the breakfast table.

A mere switch of a mug is lightyears away from him living alone and it makes Taehyung breathless, nibbling at his upper lip that Jimin’s quick to remedy by flicking him on the forehead.

“Relax. You won’t be living alone.”

“Really?” Taehyung’s eyebrows shoot up, relief flooding him instantly. “Who’s coming home?”

Jimin winces, scratching the back of his head. It’s an awkward conversation to bring up but it’s necessary, especially with the vital piece of information he’s yet to reveal. “Nobody, for the time-being. But you will be living with someone though.”

“I’ll live with someone who isn’t either of you six…?” Taehyung blinks owlishly, the lump on his throat growing in size and worry. “A-and when was this decided? Who decided on this and why wasn’t it me?”

“Aha,” Jimin exhales, wanting the ground to swallow him whole because he regrets not taking Namjoon’s advice of easing the news of a new roommate to Taehyung gradually starting a few months back. “You know how it’s proven that dogs calm down cheetahs? And how they can teach us to socialize? How cheetahs can be a dog’s best friend?”

“What the fuck does that have to do with what we’re talking about now? Also, everything you said is only applicable when cheetahs are still cubs and dogs are still puppies!” Taehyung sighs out in frustration, rambling because he’s still nervous. Jimin’s oddly good at this sort of avoidance, coming from the king of avoidance and anxiousness to change himself. “Stop avoiding my question, you’re just distracting me.”

One, two seconds pass.

Jimin squeaks.

“It’s not a distraction.”

Taehyung wants to pass out then and there, the itch on his throat and his palms to hole up in his room alone growing by the second. Fuck, not only does he not get to live with any of his packmates, he has to live with someone he doesn’t know at all.

“You’re kidding me,” Taehyung’s eyes prick, huffing a large amount when Jimin opens his mouth again. He’s not sure how he can make this even worse.

“You’re gonna love her, I promise!” he assures him to no end, standing up instantly. The action makes Taehyung panic slightly, getting up himself and following Jimin even if he’s still mad at him. “Actually, I don’t even know how you didn’t notice Y/N the whole time. She’s just been sitting outside the door for half an hour now.”

Taehyung has no time to react to your name nor the admission that you’ve been outside even before this whole conversation escalated because Jimin flings the door open in a panic, wanting to get out of his and Taehyung’s confrontation and go straight to his and yours instead.

You’re standing there with the bubbliest smile on your face, an eager wave already in motion the moment you hear Jimin’s anxious squeaks through the door.

“Hi, I’m Y/N! Jimin’s friend from uni! We met a couple times before,” you beam at Taehyung who’s just standing frozen in shock at the door. It’s understandable to say the least considering that you’ve been through almost the same thing with Jimin, recalling how he froze the whole lecture when you simply leaned down and asked him if he had a spare pen. A whole semester of squeezing yourself into Jimin’s non-existent social circle in school and a lot of side-eyes from him that turned into head bumps later, the cheetah could say he had a best friend in you.

“Sorry, Y/N. Taehyung’s usually more… kinetic than this,” Jimin apologizes, pinching him by the side that does little to wipe off the shock from him.

“Come in, come in! Let’s get the two of you acquainted first before you move in tomorrow,” Jimin hurries you in, putting himself in the middle while walking the two of you by the arms.

“Tomorrow?” Taehyung gapes and whispers, nervous irises flitting towards you. He’s practically trembling at the knees, his tall and proud nature of a cheetah now reduced into a slouching and close-to-tears of a human.

Jimin sits the both of you down on the couch, originally in the middle but Taehyung scurries to the other end. He tries to explain through his gaze that he’ll give the full explanation later — to not be rude and make you feel unwanted. He’s about to apologize to you for Taehyung’s skittishness until he gets a call from Jin, something to do with the exact situation now that it makes him take the call outside at the hallway instead.

It’s just you and him now.

Taehyung doesn’t have the security to look towards you despite being the superior being out of the both of you. He has an awful lot to take in and your sudden presence into the equation doesn’t help, the idea of you already overwhelming him.

He doesn’t look at you until you hum and tap the cushion of the couch to alert him, holding a paper bag for him to take. He only peers at it, still too hesitant to get it because it would mean having physical contact with you.

“It’s a little DIY kit for you to make your own mug,” you offer with a cheesy grin, shaking the bag a little. Taehyung blinks slowly, eyes widening at you but not with hostility. 

Perhaps he’s going to try to welcome change. (Read: you might be a perfect roommate after all.)

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want to read more of hybrid!tae in the future? catch him on patreon! he'll only be exclusively available there :D

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Can you write a yuji x reader oneshot where she goes on a mission by herself & finds one of sukuna's fingers. She tries hiding it from the others bc she knows when they find all of the them yuji will be killed. pt 1/2

Pairing: Yuji x F!Reader

CW: Angst, mentions death

Notes: I'm not sure if I like this one but TwT here you are, thank you for waiting.

It’s a blessing you survived, a curse that you did. You stare at the mishappen red finger, bigger than your entire palm, in your hand.

The first thought in your mind isn’t that you need to turn this into the school before more curses come looking for it, attracted by the aura radiating off the small piece of Sukuna. It’s “how many does this make now?”.

As you start your walk back to the school, you try to avoid thinking of the answer, knowing that it would only raise your anxiety, but your thoughts keep going before you have a chance to stop them.

Eighteen?

No, Nobara found one two months ago.

Nineteen.

This finger you found makes nineteen now.

When you first started this journey, you didn’t really think much of Itadori other than being the misfortunate boy who is a vessel for the ticking timebomb known as Sukuna. But when you spent more time with him, you started to see him as his own person, the most empathetic and caring one you’ve ever met.

You’d heard how he protected his classmates from Fushiguro despite being powerless. How Yuji swallowed the first finger to save him. By the second, he sacrificed himself so the rest of you could escape that deathtrap detention facility. Three fingers and it was the flower curse. But no matter how much good he did for you and your friends, it would still end up with him being executed by no fault of his own.

So, it only made sense to keep this secret to yourself, hide it on your person by coating its presence with your cursed energy, and prepare to fight every curse that thought it had a chance to steal it from you.

It didn’t really matter how many times you had to reject invitations from your friends, nervously creating a distance to protect your secret, or how you have to brush off their concerns when you’d return to school with dirt and scratches covering your body.

You didn’t mind, choosing to continue through the long and tiring days, because you felt he would do the same for you all if the situation was reversed. So, you’d sacrifice some of your life if it meant he could keep living.

“That’s a nasty bruise you got there.”

You stop writing your notes to look at Nobara. There’s concern in her eyes as she examines the fresh bruise on your face. “Did you get in a fight?” she asks, brows rising ominously, ”Do I need to teach someone some manners?”

You realize her question has drawn the boys' attention to you as well, and you become anxious under the pressure of your teammates’ stares. You couldn’t very well tell them that you had indeed gotten into a fight earlier that morning. Your remaining cursed energy had been about to tap on empty, which made it more difficult to hide the finger’s presence from other curses. “It’s from training,” you lie with the first excuse that comes to your head. “Maki-san has really been putting me through the wringer.”

“Sheesh, ouch, you should really tell her to ease up on you. I’ll go with you if you want,” you hear Yuji say, the sweet boy frowning at you; embarrassed, you gently hide your bruise behind your palm.

“There’s no need to go through the trouble.”

Kugisaki sighs. “Yeah, but that isn’t the only thing. You’ve been looking pretty tired lately, I could lend you some of my make-up but if something is bothering you, you should really do something about it,” Kugisaki offers, but you shake your head as you focus on the resonating echoing in your pocket.

The finger is calling to something, and it feels like it’s coming fast.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you tell them and stand from your seat, quickly searching your brain for some kind of excuse to leave and find a place where you could deal with the issue of the incoming curse on your own. “I’m going to go see if Shoko can heal it for me. I’ll be back,” you explain, leaving the three together in the classroom.

“She’s lying,” Fushiguro announces as soon as you’re out of earshot, drawing the others' attention to him, their faces asking how he could possibly know. “Maki has been out on a mission for the last three days.”

-

The stains of your blood paint the lamppost behind you in splatters of red. Your head is pounding, blood pouring into your line of vision, blurring your sight as it coagulates on your lashes, making it difficult to focus on the lizard-like curse in front of you.

You didn’t expect this of all times would be when your body decides to break on you. You’ve been exhausting yourself the past weeks and growing more exhausted with each battle.

You were still winning though. As long as you have the finger in your possession, clutched between your hands safe from the curse’s grasps, you were winning. As you roll out the way to avoid another attack of the lizard’s outstretched tongue, you wonder how long you can last at this rate.

Your best option would be to head back to the school but what happens after the curse is exorcised? If Gojo realizes you have Sukuna’s finger, he’d certainly feed it to Yuji, but you had to do something about this monster.

For better or worse, you no longer have to make that decision as black fur blurs past your vision to attack the curse.

“Doggy?” you ask impulsively. That means Fushiguro must be close and before you have time to even look in the direction the attack came from, Itadori steps into your field of vision, a colorful aura of curse energy surrounding his fist as he punches through the curse. It roars at him but is quickly stunted by the nails flying its way. “Yuji! Nobara!”

Relief washes over you along with nervousness as the three of them take on the curse in front of you, defeating it in less than a minute, allowing all their focus to come back to you.

Nobara was busy trying to clean off the blood from your face while Yuji keeps fussing over your wound. “How did you guys find me?”

“You’ve been acting weird lately, so we had the dog follow you," Kugisaki explains.

“I see,” you answer, refusing to meet her eye now that you’ve been caught especially since Fushiguro keeps narrowing his eyes at you, irritated at your nearly fatal stupidity.

“How long have you had that?”

“A month," you answer honestly. "I’ve been using my curse energy to try to mask it but it’s too much.”

“You should’ve brought it to Gojo as soon as you found it,” he scolds and stretches an open hand to you. “Here, I’ll hold onto it.”

You wrap your hand around the finger tighter, drawing it closer to your stomach to protect it from any prying hands. “I got it.”

“(y/n), you don’t have enough cursed energy left to be holding onto that thing,” Yuji agrees, “Let Fushiguro handle it.”

“You can’t have it,” you quietly but determinedly reject.

“(y/n), are you crazy? You got attacked because of it,” Nobara screeches in your ear, making you wince.

You shake your head.

“Come on, we have to turn it over to the school,” Fushiguro says, bends down, and begins to pry at your arms like a parent trying to work with a fussy child.

“Stop it!”

You fight against him, growing more desperate when he begins to unlock your fingers one by one. You’re half tempted to bite him when he cuts in front of your face to pull you back.

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

“Because I don’t want Itadori-kun to die!”

You swing your arm to push him away, but your confession already has Fushiguro loosening his grasp and reeling back. You bring your possession back to the safety of your torso, squeezing it tighter against yourself so it won’t drop from your shaking hands.

“If I take it back to the school, Gojo will tell Yuji to eat it,” you explain, pausing to sniffle and restructure your voice to something understandable rather than the sobs you want to let out. You couldn’t get the sight from out of your head, the room of charms, the light leaving his honey brown eyes. “When the higher-ups find out, they’ll put all their energy into finding the last one so they can hurry and execute him. So, I can’t let you have it. I can’t.”

A heartbeat passes then a second before you’re shuddering and sniffling against the skin of your knees. Everyone shares the same look, entirely unsure what to say now that the mournful reality they’ve been ignoring and near forgotten is forced to come to the forefront.

When the gravity of the situation is absorbed, it’s Itadori that makes the first move to comfort you. His large hand caresses your shoulder.

“(y/n)-chan.”

“I-I can keep it safe,” you say but your voice is so muffled that it sounds like a whisper to those around you, “I just need a little sleep, and I’ll be fine to fight after.”

“I appreciate the thought, but you know I can’t let you do that.”

“Then, we could take turns, or, or-.” It’s pitiful, the way your sniffles rip through you, rendering you speechless. Itadori kneels to your level and cups your face in his hands to make you meet his eyes.

Itadori can’t lie and say he isn’t scared of dying, that he doesn’t remember all the regrets flashing behind his eyes whenever his life was on the verge of ending. The fear doesn’t disappear when he looks at you either or when his fingers grace over the cuts on your cheeks. But those jagged cuts on your soft face dull out any sort of heartache he feels when his thoughts drift to what’ll happen when he reaches his goal.

“I’m doing this because I don’t want anyone to be hurt any longer by Sukuna and that includes you.” He rubs his thumbs under your eyes to push away the tears falling on your cheeks. “If you were to die trying to protect me, then getting rid of Sukuna would be pointless.”

He was determined in this goal, even if he knew it’d mean dying. At least he could say he did something good, all the pain and suffering end in peace for the people he cares about even if only a little, even if it’d be painful for them at first.

The gaze in his eyes tells you to please trust him and this cruel mission set upon him, and it strengthens you enough to pull away. You slowly open your hand and offer him the cursed object in it. It leaves your hold, and you can feel it sink into Itadori’s palm, nothing but the slight wetness of a tongue glancing against your skin as Sukuna swallows it into his body.

Black tattoos flare on his wrists. You catch your gasp in your throat, holding onto it tight, or else you’d start to cry again. Like always, Itadori stores Sukuna away, marking disappearing just as fast as they came.

“See, everything’s fine,” he attempts to calm you.

In your heart you know that it wasn’t okay, wasn’t anything shorter than wrong but you’re so tired from the last few weeks you can’t do more than push your head to his shoulder and exhaustedly cry for what seems like forever.

Time ticks by slowly as the others let you cry it out in Itadori’s arms. You’re already dry on tears, left with nothing but dry weeping from swollen eyes. Megumi quietly lets the scene play on, a little glance here and there but too uncomfortable to stay focused on it, while Nobara had already turned her head away, no doubt trying to cover up her own whimpering.

Itadori keeps hugging you, trying to comfort you in a situation that he knew wasn’t ever really going to be better. It’d only get worse from here, and the last thing needed was a misplaced ray of sunlight breaking through the seriousness of the situation.

“So, this is where you all went. I was worried when none of my precious students showed up for class, so I thought you might’ve been playing hooky. But I know none of you would want to miss the chance to learn from me.”

The smile stretched across Satoru’s face is quickly replaced by a flat line when he absorbs more of the situation, hears the cracked cries of your voice scraping at his ears.

“What’s wrong with her? You three haven’t been bullying her, have you?”

“As if we would do that.” Nobara sighs loudly as she gazes back over to you, “…(y/n), found another of Sukuna’s fingers on her last mission.”

“Really? Nice.” Satoru says. It had to be the sixth one you found on your own. Satoru always knew you were a good luck charm, but it still did nothing to help him understand why you were so upset. “But that still doesn’t really explain anything.”

You let out a few sentences, ones that are too garbled to understand for Gojo in your hysterics.

“Gojo, are you sure Yuji has to be executed? Isn’t there any way you can convince the higher-ups?” Megumi translates, his own curiousity rising as well.

“No way, they hate me,” he answers, his eyes still on you, gauging your reaction. Breath short, you choke on air. He’s almost certain you’re going to send yourself into an anxiety attack at this rate. He understood the why, thought about the little hints of longing you showed towards your classmate, about the smiles you only save for him, about how you’d eventually have to learn the same lesson Okkotsu had.

Love is the most twisted curse of all.

Just not yet, not when you should be happy with the precious little time left.

Strutting over to you and Itadori, he places a hand on your Itadori’s head affectionately. “But turns out, I already have a master plan in place to help out my boy Yuji here, so you don’t need to worry your pretty head about all that stuff, (y/n).”

Yuji scrunches his face. There’s a swath of confusion in the air as he pipes out a “really?” but he quiets when he hears you sniff and finally lift your head back up.

Small like a child’s voice, you ask, “You do?”

The others are silent as the confident grin returns to Gojo’s face. “Sure do.”

You’re shaky, hesitant to believe him. Though, it’s Itadori who once again brings you back, “See, (y/n), we can let Gojo handle it. So, let’s go back already, you must be tired.”

Seeing the concern disappear from him, you feel your own also draining. Quickly, your body and soul give into physical and mental exhaustion. “Can you get up?”

Resolve cracked, you rub your reddened eyes as if trying to wash away the remains of your heartache. “N-No.”

Itadori’s hands clasp around your arms, warm and welcoming as he pulls you up to your feet. “Alright, upsy-daisy.”

You wobble on your feet, and Yuji steadies you in his arms. “You want to hold my hand?” he asks, and you nod, a pathetic yes leaving you as you intertwine your fingers with his. Satoru pushes lightly at your back, gently ushering you forward to walk towards the school, towards home.

Nobara and Megumi follow, lagging far behind. Nobara notes how your sniffling had considerably lightened even as you still swipe at your face with your free hand.

“I get that he’s trying to help spare her feelings, but was it really a good idea to lie like that? I’m sure Itadori picked up on it, but it doesn't really feel right to give her false hope like that."

Kugisaki could admit that Gojo did talk you out of your depression easier than she could imagine but would holding off the pain you feel now be worth the pain and anger you’d feel later. She didn’t really think so.

“There’s probably some truth to it. He is him after all."

“Even if that’s true, do you think whatever it is will work?”

"Well, this is still Gojo we're talking about. So any plan he has will consist of him making up things as he goes, so probably not,” Megumi answers bluntly, honestly. He had no doubt that Gojo would probably try something, but he didn’t have hopes in the odds of whatever it was working out, not with the number of people hoping for Itadori’s execution to come to pass.

Kugisaki regrets asking as it kills her own hopes for any sort of happy ending for the two walking hand and hand in front of her. “Do you think we should tell her?”

Megumi sucks on his bottom lip to stop the impending shaking. The air around you is a bit softer. There’s a sliver of calm back in your stance, and he couldn’t bring himself to be the one to take that away.

“No.”

[fanficshiddles]

My Sweet Rose, Chapter 1

From the imagine on imagine-Loki here.

Summary: Rosie got a job working at The Avengers tower with her cousin, Pepper. She’s only been there a week when Loki comes live there, to make up for his past deeds in New York. But this brings a lot of problems for Rosie.

Loki was her Daddy Dom. Who vanished one day without a word, leaving her completely broken and lost.

Note: Daddy/little dynamic & Flashbacks will be in Bold. I’m not sure how long this story will be, I’m thinking no more than 5 chapters though. But I saw the imagine and omg I love it, had to do something with it. Haven’t written anymore of it yet but just HAD to share the first chapter so far, oops! lol. 

-

Rosie had been working and living in the Avengers tower for a week now, it was going really well. And it was helping to keep her mind occupied, getting her back on her feet after such a rough year.

She was a PA for Stark, and the other Avengers if they needed anything too. It was helping her cousin, Pepper out a lot. As Stark was very demanding nowadays and the others were becoming that way too.

It was also good for Rosie. She’d had a really tough year. She met someone a few years ago in a BDSM club, it had been her first time there after spending months building up the courage to go. She was a little, and had been wanting to find someone that she could feel safe with to explore that side of her.

She met a man, who was charming and handsome. Kind, funny. They fell in love, or so she thought anyway. He was the perfect Daddy Dom for her, teaching her everything and looking after her. She adored and loved him so much. Which is why when one day he just vanished, it was all the harder for her.

He just never returned after saying he had to go home to visit his family, who lived in Iceland apparently. But he did that regularly and always returned to her. But not that time. To say she was heartbroken when there was not even a call or a text from him explaining why was an understatement.

His name was Loki. And it became clear what happened a few months later after his disappearance, she saw him on the news. Loki, the God Of Mischief, was trying to take over the world. She couldn’t believe it and thought she was dreaming when she realised it had was her Loki. He looked different in the heavy armour, he looked scary.

But she thought no wonder he left her, he was a God and a Prince after all. What would he have wanted with her in the first place anyway?

She had tried a couple of times to date someone else, but never made it past the first date. As they just… weren’t him. No matter how often she tried to just forget about him. It was difficult.

She’d fallen into a downward spiral, not even able to go to work. So she had lost her job and was on benefits for a while. She became really anxious and nervous.

But here, in the tower, she was trying to turn herself around again. It had been one man, even if he had been her first true love, in her heart anyway. She knew she would heal, in time. Even if it had been over a year.

Rosie had been so engrossed in sorting out some paperwork for Tony that she never noticed the newcomer coming into the kitchen. She barely even registered Thor introducing her to him. ‘This is Rosie, our PA, she’s new here.’

Not until she heard an all too familiar voice responding that sent shivers down her spine and sent her heart racing.

‘Rosie… My sweet Rose?’

There was only one person who had ever called her that.

Slowly she looked up, eyes widening, standing before her was Loki.

‘Oh my sweet Rose, you’ve done Daddy so proud.’ Loki purred gently as he cradled her in his lap.

She felt so safe and secure, curled up against him as he wrapped a blanket around her naked body. Knowing how cold she always got after they’d played together quite so intensely.

Loki rocked her back and fore softly as he ran his fingers through her hair, soothing her. She was trembling a bit after her orgasms, Loki had pushed her almost past her limit, but he knew. He always knew when to stop at the right time.

He was an intense Daddy, and could be really strict at times. But he was fair and ever so kind. He had his goofy moments and was extremely playful too, which she loved. He was never angry with her, always calm and collected. Even when she misbehaved, not that that happened often.

She clung to his shirt so tightly, never wanting to let go. Loki had to carefully remove her hand from his shirt just so he could change them into a different position, getting them both under the blanket so he could have her snuggled up next to him. He knew she would fall asleep soon.

‘Daddy.’ She whispered quietly, sounding so vulnerable.

‘Yes, my little one?’ Loki asked, engulfing her small hand in his large one.

‘Can you sing to me?’

Loki smiled. ‘Of course, my sweetling.’

He began singing to her in Asgardian, but he had told her before it was Icelandic. She had no reason not to believe him, especially since he told her he’d grown up there with his parents.

But he had a beautiful voice, she always loved to hear him sing.

She felt so loved as he she drifted off to sleep to the sound of his voice. She faintly remembered a gentle kiss on her forehead just before she fell asleep.

Thor was confused at their interaction, especially as Rosie said nothing at first. Just stared at Loki in utter disbelief.

‘No…’ She shook her head and took a step backwards. ‘You… You don’t get to call me that anymore.’ She said quietly, her voice trembling as tears came to her eyes.

‘Rosie? What’s wrong, did he hurt you?’ Clint asked upon seeing the reaction.

Rosie grabbed the pile of paperwork off the table beside her and she ran off out of the kitchen, with tears falling down her face.

Clint turned to Loki. ‘You’ve got some explaining to do.’ He snapped at him.

‘I have nothing to explain to you, Hawk.’ Loki snarled.

Natasha and Pepper saw Rosie running out of the kitchen in floods of tears, they ran after her into her room. Natasha managed to grab the door before it closed on them.

‘Rosie? Rosie, what’s wrong?’ They both asked as they rushed in to her.

Rosie threw the papers on her bed and she started pacing back and fore, shaking and crying with her arms wrapped around herself. Pepper grabbed her and pulled her down to sit on the bed.

‘Rosie, please speak to us.’ She pleaded with her cousin as Natasha sat at the other side of her.

‘It… It’s him…’ She sobbed.

‘Who? Loki? Did he scare you? I told him not to be an asshole to anyone.’ Natasha said angrily.

‘He… He’s the one. Who I dated before.’ She blurted out, making Pepper and Natasha go silent in shock.

‘But… how?’ Pepper asked.

‘I met him one night in a club. And we dated for eleven months. I was in love with him, utterly and completely. I thought he was with me too. But then he just vanished and never came back one day. Then a few months later, I saw him on the TV… I didn’t tell anyone it was him, because I thought no one would believe me anyway. And what did it matter? It wouldn’t change anything.’ Rosie blurted out between crying.

‘Oh, Rosie. I wish you had told me.’ Pepper pulled her into a hug and cradled her head against her. ‘It’s ok, shhh, shhh. It’s going to be ok.’

Natasha rubbed her back softly. ‘If we had known, we would have warned you he was coming here. I’m so sorry.’

Rosie shook her head and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. ‘No… It’s my fault, I should have told you. I just… it’s a shock to see him face to face.’

Natasha and Pepper nodded in understanding.

They stayed with her for a little while, then when she told them she was ok and was going to take a shower before bed, they left her to it.

But it ended up being the longest shower ever. She kept thinking about Loki and what they had together before.

Kept thinking of when they first met…

Rosie was super nervous when she walked into the BDSM club. But after months of talking herself into it, she finally had the courage to do it.

She didn’t dare tell any of her friends what she was into or what she was doing, perhaps foolish in a way as no one knew where she was. And she was on her own. But she was too embarrassed to tell anyone. Her friends wouldn’t understand.

She relaxed a tiny bit once she was there, noticing other people on their own as well. Getting a few drinks down her helped with her nerves too.

Some of the people she spoke to briefly were really nice. She met a lovely couple at the bar who asked if it was her first time there. They told her if she needed anything to feel free to ask them, not to be shy. That everyone there was really nice and friendly.

There were various demos on that she watched, there was a lot more to some scenes than met the eye. It really made her realise how on sites such as Fetlife and others, it was easy to get sucked into the wanna-be-Dom’s who likely had no idea what they were doing. Or how much safety came into it all.

‘Excuse me, I don’t mean to bother you but I was wondering if you’d like to join me for a drink?’ A beautiful voice came from beside her when one of the demos on aftercare just finished.

Rosie turned and her breath was taken from her as she gazed up at an incredibly tall and handsome man.

‘I… I… Yeah, I would like that, thank you.’ Rosie stammered out, nodding over enthusiastically.

He grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth as he put his hand out towards her. ‘My name is Loki.’ He introduced.

‘I’m Rosie.’ She smiled up at him and put her hand into his. That’s when she noticed his gorgeous hands, so big and he had such long fingers. She blushed hard when he raised her hand up and he kissed the back of it, making her skin tingle like crazy.

‘Pleasure to meet you, Rosie.’ He said charmingly.

Loki gave her his arm and led her over to a free table near the bar. She was really nervous, and Loki could tell. But he soon had her at ease, just chatting away to her calmly and making her laugh almost straight away. She slowly began to relax in his presence.

‘Is this your first time here?’ He asked after buying them both another drink.

‘Is it that obvious?’ She cringed, making him chuckle.

‘Kind of. You did look a bit like a deer in the headlights. But that’s normal for first timers.’ Loki winked at her.

‘So, I’m guessing that means you’ve been here before?’

‘It does.’ He nodded. ‘Not often, it’s probably my fourth visit. Mainly just trying to meet new people, meet anyone that may potentially be interested in a Daddy Dom.’

Rosie’s eyes widened and she suddenly fell shy again as she looked down at her glass and swallowed hard. Loki raised an eyebrow, instantly realising that she was a little. He suspected she was a sub, but hadn’t been sure about the little aspect or not.

Loki leaned forward over the table towards her a little more. ‘Let me take a quick stab in the dark here… But I am presuming that you are a little?’

Her mouth opened and closed again. Then she just opted for nodding in response instead of trusting her voice to actually work.

Loki smiled softly. ‘Nothing to be shy about, sweetheart. That’s why lots of people come to these clubs, to meet their person.’

‘I… I guess so.’ She agreed.

They continued to talk for over an hour, not much about BDSM which Rosie found quite pleasant. He didn’t seem to want to jump straight in so quickly, which in turn made her trust him more and relax.

At the end of the night, Loki handed over a small card with his number on it. ‘There’s absolutely no pressure at all. But I’ve really enjoyed my night with you, Rosie. I would love to take you out on a date, perhaps out for lunch Saturday? But there’s no pressure, I don’t need an answer right now. Just text or call me to let me know. But if I don’t hear from you, that’s ok too. I totally understand.’

Rosie’s heart was racing. Could he get any more considerate? He wasn’t pressuring her at all, not asking for her number. Not even expecting her to contact him if she didn’t want to go on a date with him. Not even needing an answer straight away, what a gentleman.

Loki walked her outside the club and hailed a taxi for her, he even paid in advance for her, not taking no for an answer.

‘I just want to make sure I know you’ll get home safely. And I can’t help it, it’s the protective Daddy in me.’ He shrugged and chuckled, making her giggle shyly.

‘Thank you, Loki.’ She smiled widely at him as she got into the taxi and he closed the door for her once she was in.

He waved her off and she couldn’t stop smiling the whole way home.

Of course, she did text him the following morning to say she would love nothing more than to go on a date with him on Saturday. If that was still what he wanted, too.

Loki replied within a minute, with a time and a place for their first date.

-

‘How DARE you!’ Pepper roared at Loki and launched for him, slapping him across the face. It barely made him flinch, but he clenched his jaw as he glared at her.

Everyone was surprised at Pepper’s outburst.

‘Woah, what did he do?’ Bruce asked.

‘HE is the one that broke my cousin’s heart. She was head over heels in love with you, asshole. Then you just disappeared on her, left her alone without even an explanation. No note, nothing.’ She snarled at him.

Loki narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but I did what was right. To protect her. She was better off without me.’

‘You did NOT do what was right. You have no idea what you’ve put her through this past year, how heartbroken she was. Still is!’ Pepper screeched.

Loki faltered. ‘Still is? Did she not find another, she’s a beautiful, incredible woman. How could she not find ano’

‘You are such a fucking idiot!’ Pepper screeched angrily and so wanted to slap him again, but she knew it was pointless.

The guys around him all put their face into their hands.

‘What?’ Loki asked, looking around.

‘That’s a low blow, man. Not even leaving her a note.’ Said Tony.

‘I… I thought I was doing the right thing.’ Loki said, looking at Thor.

Thor nodded. ‘I did not realise that your Rose was this Rosie… But yes, Loki thought he was doing right by her. He was in love with her, adored her. Never shut up about her. But when he discovered his true heritage on a short visit home, he decided not to go back to her. In fear of hurting her.’ Thor explained.

Pepper ran her hands down her face.

‘Well, you failed on that. You probably hurt her more by not at least saying you were over. You have no idea what she’s been through this last year.’ Pepper shook her head in disgust at Loki.

The team all murmured between them and left the room, leaving Loki with Thor.

For the first time in a long time, Thor saw his real brother back. He saw true emotion on his face again, sorrow and guilt.

‘I… I did not mean to hurt her.’ Loki said, still a bit confused. ‘I loved her, Thor… I do love her. I never stopped thinking about her, never loved another.’ He whispered.

Thor sighed and walked over to him, patting his shoulder. ‘I know, brother. I know.’

Loki thought back to the first time she had called him Daddy. How much it made his heart happy that she trusted and wanted him so much…

Rosie and Loki were snuggling on the sofa together, watching some cartoons that she loved. Loki wasn’t overly fond of them, but it made her happy so he always obliged. He was just happy to have her on his lap, comfortable and relaxed in his arms. Where she belonged.

He was lightly stroking her back underneath her top, making her skin tingle. She was in utter heaven, and Loki couldn’t get enough of just simply touching her. He needed touch in some way, whether he was just holding her hand or had the tips of his fingers on her skin, he needed and craved the intimacy with her.

Loki’s fingers trailed a bit too far to her side and up a little, making her squirm and giggle.

‘Daddy, that tickles!’ She laughed and tried to grab his hand to stop him.

But he had already stopped, freezing at what she said. That was the first time she had called him that, even in little space.

The biggest smile spread across his face and he buried his face into her hair and squeezed her tightly to him.

‘Sorry, my sweet little one. I forgot how ticklish you are.’ He purred.

[seaweedinthebrain]

i have a lot of headcanons about characters becoming teachers after graduating hogwarts. like, it's probably my favourite "after the plot is over and the war is won and they're supposed to go live happily ever after" trope.

give me professor sprout retiring not because she's tired and actually needs to, but because she wants to open the position so neville longbottom can take over. give me him always forgetting to put on his teacher robes and just teaching all day in a too big jumper and a dirt stained overall. him being the deputy headmaster and the head of gryffindor house, so respected as a war hero and a herbology academic that first years get intimidated, only to be greeted before the sorting ceremony by this short and cuddly looking guy with a kind smile and encouraging words to ease their nerves. him giving the best introductory class at the start of term and asking each student about their favourite plant, making everyone feel welcomed and appreciated, letting them know that it's okay to struggle and to come to him for help.

give me harry giving up on becoming an auror because at this point he's done with action and just wants to settle down, so he takes the DADA position. him teaching in flannels and leather jackets and ripped jeans and converses, because he's not used to wizard robes and finds them uncomfortable. unlike neville, the students don't break their awe and nervousness about being taught by The harry potter instantly upon meeting him, because his horrible resting bitch face still makes him seem intimidating and too serious, so the anxious looks and amazed whispers only stop during his first class when he actually starts talking and smiling and joking. him making almost every class be practical, putting music on and pushing the furniture against the wall, because it's best to learn defense on your feet than just by reading the theory from a book. him being the teacher that is focused and gets the work done but makes the students have so much fun while doing it that they all groan when his class is over. him doing his best to help and make the kids feel safe when they come to him about personal problems, offering a piece of chocolate before they leave and saying "eat, you'll feel better".

give me mcgonnagal FINALLY convincing professor binns to cross over to the afterlife and let someone younger and less socially outdated have the position. so susan bones comes and becomes the head of hufflepuff house, makes the history of magic classes interesting, shows the students that it's an extremely important subject that doesn't deserve to be dismissed as "boring" just because someone couldn't do it right. instead of falling asleep by the first ten minutes, the kids spend the whole time on the edge of their seats, attention gripped by her storyteller way of explaining different events. her giving the students freedom to interact with the narrative, encouraging them to raise their hands and share their thoughts, ask questions, give examples, tell their stories or the stories of people they know. her promoting debates about important historical points and socially relevant issues. when it's time to talk about contemporary history and the first and second wizarding wars, give me her inviting friends and acquaintances to tell their own stories.

give me justin finch-fletchley being one of the first ever muggleborn teachers, personally invited by mcgonnagal to take the transfiguration position. him being the complete opposite of what you would expect from someone who teaches such a methodical and complicated subject, with his outgoing and bubbly nature. the students feeling at ease in his class because they know that if they don't understand at first, they can always ask him later and he will patiently explain again. him joking around the classroom to demonstrate the spells, making the students laugh so much their stomachs hurt. him saying that it's okay to not succeed at first, or ever, because in the end what matters is that you tried and your grades don't define you.

the older teachers not being used to having such young colleagues, specially considering they were still students just a few years before, and developing the habit of calling them "the youngsters". in turn, neville, harry, susan and justin taking years to stop feeling weird about calling their former teachers by their first names.

them gossiping with flitwick and trelawney over cups of tea in the teachers room in between classes.

them being introduced to the decades-ongoing betting pool about the students' love lives and getting excited to participate.

them joking with hagrid during lunch at the teachers table.

them actively refusing to turn a blind eye to bullying in the school, overlook prejudiced comments or dismiss the students' mental health, because it's fresh in their minds how harmful that can be.

the students waving at them when they walk by because they're comfortable doing so, knowing they're supposed to respect their teachers, but not fear them.

them respecting their students' learning particularities and disabilities, advocating for squibs to be able to attend hogwarts because most classes don't even require actual casting of spells anyway, it's only a matter of adjusting timetables so they don't have to take those.

harry finally having the peace and quiet he deserves, no more fighting or saving anyone. just a steady life of stressing over teenagers and sipping tea in his office.

neville being the person he needed when he was younger, making sure his students never feel stupid or ridiculed. praising each of their achievements, no matter how small, and reminding then constantly that they're not a disappointment and that he's proud.

susan breaking the image of the softie hufflepuff, being the most serious and strict teacher, second only to mcgonnagal herself. her sense of justice will have her give a student a month of detention for making fun of someone's appearance and everyone knows that if you're caught cheating at her test your marks are fucked.

justin being amazing at teaching one of the hardest magical subjects and shutting up all the blood supremacists who think muggleborns are less capable. he was underestimated for a while into the transfiguration position, the older staff thought his humor and unusual way of teaching would get the students nowhere in such a meticulous class, but they were proven wrong when kids who wouldn't have looked twice at the subject ended up falling in love with it because of him.

just. give me characters becoming young teachers. barely into their twenties having to teach 11 to 17 year olds, and absolutely loving it. being people the students can look up and relate to. bringing a fresher point of view to an environment that usually just seeks to punish kids instead of understanding them. YOUNG TEACHERS AT HOGWARTS. PLEASE AND THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK.

[ink-system]

Learn a Lesson

a/n: Titles(derogatory) Hope this isn’t too ooc for them this is my first mcyt fic ive written please be nice/lh

word count: 3155

tw: anxiety? 

“Oh, Ranbooooo!”

Said half enderman squeaked at the sound of Wilbur’s voice echoing throughout the house. He was so screwed, he was so screwed, he was so-

“Found ya!” the brunet popped up behind Ranboo, seemingly out of nowhere. The taller of the two shrieked and jumped away. 

“Uh- sorry I didn’t mean t-” before the half enderman could finish his apology Wilbur cut him off with a poke to his side. At the sudden contact he jumped away again and gently slapped his hand away. 

“Ah-! Sorry, I didn’t mean to do thAT-” 

At the start of another unnecessary apology, Wilbur once again poked his side. “What have I said about apologizing when you don’t need to, Ranboo?”

“...Not to-” he looked down at the ground, worried he actually made Wilbur upset.

WIlbur spoke in a very playful and teasy tone. He wanted to make it obvious he was joking, knowing that the other struggles a bit with discerning between serious and teasy at times. “Exactly, not to. So now I gotta teach you a lesson, Ranboo!”

Upon hearing Wilbur’s tone, Ranboo calmed down a bit. It always helped when someone’s intentions were made more clear to him. That still didn’t stop him getting slightly anxious from anticipation and stammering out apologies to WIlbur.

With each step that Wilbur took towards Ranboo, the latter’s apologies became more and more sprinkled with giggles. 

“Ranboo, Ranboo, Ranboo… how many times do I have to tell you? Don’t. Apologize. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you wanted this! Do you know what I’m gonna do, hmmm?”

The taller recognized that tone all too well, but still denied knowing “N-nohot really. Sorry-”

Wilbur gave Ranboo a pointed look before smirking slightly “Why are you giggling then? If you have absolutely no idea what I’m gonna do, why are you giggling from what I’m assuming is anticipation.” As the brunet spoke he took a few more steps closer to Ranboo, wiggling his fingers in his direction as he did so.

“Uhum- you look funny! W-wait I’m sorry that was rUDE-!”

The younger of the two squeaked as he got picked up and thrown over the older’s shoulder in order to be carried to another room. 

“Wilbur! Let me goooo,” Ranboo whined, not putting up any resistance despite his protesting words. Even though he could probably easily get away because of his height and Wilbur not keeping that tight of a grip on him, he just- didn’t move at all. 

“You know I can’t do that,” he said ‘solemnly’ before squeezing the younger’s knees. He relished in the way Ranboo squealed before lightly kicking his legs. He knows he’s supposed to be an evil ler at that point in time but the kid was far too adorable to make it easy for Wilbur to keep it up. 

After a few more moments of walking Wilbur reached his room and gently placed Ranboo onto the bed. As soon as Ranboo was lying on the bed Wilbur sat on his upper thighs, using his weight to pin the younger down as best as he could. 

With the knowledge that he was stuck until Wilbur decided to let him go, Ranboo’s anticipatory giggles increased in pitch. “Wihilbuhur! I’m sohorry- gehet off-!!”

Wilbur looked down at the other with a slight smile and wiggled his fingers again,  “Ranboooo, I’m gonna getcha! I’m gonna tickle tickle tickle you!”

Upon hearing the brunet’s teases the half enderman’s face flushed which led to him covering his face. “Shuhut up-! W-wait I’m sorRY-!” he was once again cut off by Wilbur, this time from him poking the taller in the ribs. However, this time he didn’t stop after a single poke.   

“Okay, how about this? Everytime you apologize is another minute I get to tickle you, does that sound fair to you?”

“Whahat?! Noho! Thahat’s meheahan!”

“And you’re being mean to yourself, have we got a deal?”

Ranboo peaked between his fingers to look at Wilbur before quickly covering his eyes again. He was somewhat apprehensive about it, despite knowing that the older would never push him too far. “Uhum…” 

“Okay, wait, new deal. Every time you apologize is still a minute I get to tickle you, but you get to pick the spot. Does that sound better to you?” Despite the tickling being a ‘punishment’ for Ranboo apologizing too much, Wilbur didn’t want to make the other uncomfortable. 

The taller of the two’s genuine concern made Ranboo feel more at ease and calm. He shyly nodded, hands still covering his blushing face.

At the half enderman’s permission, Wilbur’s face lit up before he took on his ‘evil ler’ persona again. “You’re gonna regret giving me permission to do anything I want for… let’s say fifteen minutes. It’s gonna tickle tickle tickle so much.”

“S-stohop sahayihing thahat wohord!”

“What word? Tickle?”

The current lee whined through his laughter “Stohohohop!”

“Ranboo, I asked you a simple question. Should I stop saying tickle?”

“Yehes!” he peeked through his hands to look at Wilbur. 

“But it’s so much fun to say! It’s such a cute word too! C’mon Ranboo say it with me, tickle!”

Said male frantically shook his head in response to Wilbur. “Dohon’t wanna!”

“Oh and I almost forgot to ask! Ranboo, pick a spot!” This was actually one of Wilbur’s favorite things to do with Ranboo, even when he was ‘teaching him a lesson’. Ranboo loved it too, despite how flustering it was for him. 

Through his frantic giggles, he whined an answer out for Wilbur, the problem was that Wilbur was feeling particularly mean that day. He wanted a clear answer from the half enderman. Did he know he was being mean? Yes, absolutely. Did he think Ranboo’s reaction was too adorable to pass up? Also yes.

“Sorry, what was that? Didn’t quite catch it through all your adorable little giggles there.”

The younger one whined once again, “Stohop behihing meheahan!”

“Ranboo. Remember our agreement?”

The taller of the two pouted before once again muttering, “...sihides…”

“See that wasn’t so hard now was it?” he stopped lightly poking his ribs and instead began to squeeze his sides. Ranboo’s giggles grew a bit louder at the change in spots. 

“Ihit wahas vehery hahard!”

Wilbur continued to squeeze his sides, lightening his touch a bit. “Hmm, what a pity.”

At the feeling of the lighter squeezing the younger’s laughter once again increased in volume. Wilbur knew, and loved, that Ranboo was sensitive to lighter tickles. It tickled the taller of the two a considerable amount more than rougher tickles did and it caused him to let out some of the cutest giggles Wilbur had ever heard. 

“Wihill! Nohoho!” Ranboo kicked his legs out as much as he could under Wilbur’s weight. Which, being completely honest, wasn’t that much despite how long his legs are. Although, because of his height, he could’ve easily gotten away, which Wilbur pointed out. 

“Aww, Ranboo! You’re such a good lee for me! You’re barely even squirming, it’s adorable!” Upon hearing the cooing praises the enderman hybrid whined through his giggles, squirming from side to side more. 

“Nohoho! Wihihill, stohop behihing meheahan!,” Ranboo whined through his giggles, squirming once again, increasing a bit. 

“You know how to get me to stop, Genderman.”

Ranboo grumbled, half from Wilbur being mean and half from confusion. “Gehendehermahan?” 

The older of the two chuckled, “Yeah, Genderman. Anything wrong with that nickname?”

“Ihit’s weheird! Wahaihit, thahat wahas ruhude! Ihim sohorry-!”

WIlbur gave the other a sharp look, although it lost its impact from the soft smile on the brunet’s face. “Aww, c’mon Ranboo! That’s another minute of tickles for ya!” 

“Wahaihit, noho! Wihilbuhur! I dihidn’t meheahan ihit!” the enderman hybrid finally moved his hands from his face, instead going to grab at WIlbur’s hands. At Ranboo grabbing his hands, Wilbur gasped in fake offense. 

“You got another 13 minutes now, Ranboo! Now, pick another spot.”

The half enderman shook his head while giggling “Noho! Dohon’t wahanna!”

Wilbur chuckled quietly. “Ranboo, pick a spot or I will.” Upon hearing this, the younger of the two quickly shook his head and giggled louder. “Buhut thahat’s meheahan! Stohop beheihing meheahan!”

“Then pick a spot! C’mon you can do it Ranboo, I believe in you.”

The half enderman didn’t say anything for a few moments, instead grumbling through his giggles. Something about Wilbur being a bully. After a few moments he quietly giggled out, “Stohomahach?”

Wilbur almost died on the spot. How was this 8’5 half enderman so adorable? 

“Aww, the cutie wants tummy tickles?” the brunet cooed. Wilbur skittered his fingers all over the younger’s belly. Ranboo’s giggles increased in both volume and pitch, much to the delight of Wilbur. The enderman hybrid began actually squirming now, not because he really wanted to but because the sensations were more intense. 

“Wihilby! I cahan’t!”, Ranboo kicked his legs and shook his head, messing up his already messy hair even more. He had a grip on Wilbur’s hands but didn’t make any effort to push them away at all. 

The brunet’s heart melted at the nickname. He almost had to stop to regain his composure because of the adorable sight before him. Wilbur continued scribbling all over Ranboo’s stomach, although applying a bit more pressure. At the change in intensity Ranboo’s giggles turned to laughter. 

“Aww. isn’t that just adorable! A cute little lee that can’t even handle a few tummy tickles~!”

Ranboo’s blush brightened immensely at Wilbur’s teasing. “S-shuhut uhup! Dohon’t sahay thahat wohord!” 

Wilbur gasped in fake offense at Ranboo’s words. “Ranboo, you’re gonna regret that!” Wilbur began to slowly and lightly tracing a circle towards the half enderman’s navel. The closer the brunet got to his navel, the more frantic Ranboo’s giggles got. 

“Wihilby, dohon’t! Pleheahse!”, one of the taller’s worst spots was his navel, a fact that Wilbur knew very well. Despite Ranboo’s protests, his tail was wagging happily. 

“But you’re clearly enjoying this, Ranboo. You can’t lie to me, your tail will give you away!” At the mention of his tail Ranboo’s face flushed even more as he tried to hide the still wagging tail. “Noho, I’m nohot!”

Wilbur hummed in mock agreement, finger still spiraling towards Ranboo’s navel. After a few seconds it reached its intended destination. The brunet’s finger continuously swirled around the enderman hybrid’s navel. Ranboo’s laughter immediately turned hysterical as his squirming increased quite a bit, kicking his legs and squirming from side to side. 

“W-WIHILBUHUR! PLEHEAHASE! NAHAHA!” Ranboo shrieked, grabbing at Wilbur’s hand. This time the enderman hybrid did half heartedly push his hand away while arching his back into the tickles. 

“What’s wrong, Ranboo? Can’t handle the tickly tickly tickles on your belly button?” the brunet teased in a low voice. The younger’s laughter grew higher in pitch, blush spreading to his ears. “NAHAHA! SHUHUT UHUP!”, Ranboo cackled hysterically. “WAHAIHIT, I’M SOH-” the enderman hybrid cut off his own apology. As much as he was enjoying himself he didn’t want another minute of Wilbur being mean. 

Wilbur smiled at Ranboo not finishing his apology, “You’re learning! Looks like this is working, I might just have to do this more often!” The brunet moved from other’s navel to scribbling his nails across Ranboo’s stomach. The younger’s laughter grew a bit quieter at the slightly less intense spot. He stopped squirming as much, not grabbing at Wilbur’s hands anymore, instead once again covering his own face. 

Ranboo giggled something incoherent into his hands. “Mind repeating that?”, Wilbur questioned with a dark and teasing voice. “Yehes, I doho!” the half enderman shook his head. He didn't want to say it again, it was too embarrassing. 

"Oh? And why not? Do you perhaps need a bit of persuasion?", as he spoke, Wilbur once again slowly swirled his finger towards Ranboo’s navel. The younger's eyes widened as he peeked through his fingers at what Wilbur was doing. Ranboo frantically shook his head, giggling out protests. 

“Nohoho! Nohot agahaihin! Wihilby, dohon’t!”, the enderman hybrid withdrew his hands from his face to push at the brunet’s hand that was growing closer to Ranboo’s navel. 

“Better tell me what it is you said then, Ranlee,” Wilbur continued to spiral his finger towards the younger’s navel. His finger was getting faster as he went until he was skimming the very outside of Ranboo’s navel. The half enderman frantically giggled out, “Fihine! Fihihine, I’ll sahay! Juhust dohon’t!”

Wilbur stopped spiraling his finger around the younger’s navel, instead gently tracing along his stomach. Not enough to make Ranboo squirm or laugh, just enough for him to melt and giggle contently. “Well? What was it? I'm eagerly awaiting what you have to say.” The enderman hybrid continued holding onto Wilbur’s hands, fidgeting with the older’s fingers. Ranboo was looking off to the side to avoid looking the other in the eyes. 

“Uhum… cahan I hahave neheck nihibblehes…?” Ranboo slowly glances over to look at Wilbur, looking to see his reaction. 

The brunet was looking down at Ranboo with a wide smile adorning his face, looking very excited. “Aww, of course you can! Now, was that so hard?” Wilbur leaned down towards Ranboo’s neck, listening to the anticipatory, flustered giggles spilling past the younger’s lips. “Yehes, ihit wahas vehery hahard!”, the enderman hybrid was squirming even before the brunet did anything. Wilbur continued to slowly lower his head until it reached Ranboo’s neck. He gently nibbled the younger’s neck, paying attention to the younger’s giggles that were getting increasingly high pitched. 

The enderman hybrid instinctively scrunched his neck up like a turtle in a half hearted attempt to block out the tickly sensations. “Wihilbuhur! Noho!” Ranboo giggled out meaningless protests, batting at Wilbur’s head. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt at all, more like a kitten pawing at something. 

Despite it not hurting Wilbur at all, he still sat up with a faux offended gasp. “Ranboo! You hit me, and I was being nice ⁹too!” 

“I dihidn’t meheahan toho sohoRRY-” the enderman hybrid shrieked. Once again Wilbur cut Ranboo off mid apology, this time with a raspberry. The brunet knew exactly how weak the other was to raspberries, especially on his neck.  Ranboo scrunched his neck up and pushed at the older’s head. In response to the enderman hybrid’s attempt to push him away Wilbur blew another raspberry on the younger’s neck. 

Ranboo squealed before bursting into hysterical laughter, “NAHAHA! WIHILBY, NOHO!” He gripped the sheets in an effort to not hit Wilbur’s head again. 

The older finally had mercy, although not before blowing a few more raspberries on Ranboo’s neck, and sat back up. The enderman hybrid was still giggling from the tickly sensations still present. After a few moments of Ranboo still giggling, Wilbur looked down at the younger and asked, “Ranboo? Are you okay?” genuine concern lacing his voice. The younger continued to giggle for a few more seconds before nodding his head and giggling out a “Yeheah, I’m ohokahay.” 

Wilbur warmly smiled at the enderman hybrid before turning it into a teasing smirk. "Ranboo~ your time still isn't up. So you know what that means! Pick another spot!" 

The younger began giggling in anticipation once again. "Yohouhu choose," Ranboo giggled. He hid his face in his hands, not wanting to see the teasing look on Wilbur’s face. 

"Are you sure you want me to choose Ranboo?" The brunet asked with a teasing lilt in his voice. The enderman hybrid slowly nodded, giggling with anticipation. "Well then, I'll make sure to not disappoint."

Ranboo peeked through his fingers to see what the other was doing. He immediately tensed and began squirming upon seeing where Wilbur’s hands were placed. His hips. 

"W-wait- Wihilbuhur, noho! Nohot there!" 

"Aww, and why not? You said I should choose so I did! I made sure to choose your favorite spot!"

The younger's giggles increased in pitch "S-shuhut up! It's nohot my favorite!"

Wilbur gasped in fake offense "That was rude! Now I definitely gotta go after your hips. Hmmm… I wonder how I should tickle your hips. Maybe I should squeeze them, or maybe I should scribble my nails all over them! I know how much you love that. Or what if I just barely ghosted my wiggly fingers over your extremely ticklish hips until you were begging me to wreck you?" 

Ranboo whined, covering his blushing face. The older teasingly shook his head, "Don’t hide your cute face from me, Ranboo." The taller one shook his head and pressed his hands closer to his face instead. 

The brunet playfully and quietly growled before grabbing Ranboo's hands, pinning them above his head. The younger squeaked, giggles once again increasing in pitch. 

"Stohop being mehean and just do ihit already!" The enderman hybrid’s squirming increased. Wilbur gasped in fake offense, "Me? Mean? If I was mean would I do this?" 

Wilbur quickly let go of Ranboo’s arms and began squeezing the other's hips, relishing in the loud, happy cackles he got in return. 

Ranboo's squirming increased, bucking his hips in a vain (and half-hearted) effort to get Wilbur’s hands away from his hips. Ranboo gripped onto the other's hands and squeezed in order to give himself something to focus on besides the intense feeling of the tickles. 

"WIHILBUHUR! NAHAHA, GEHET AWAHAY!" Ranboo almost screamed in laughter. 

"Aww, now why would I do that? You could push me away if you really wanted to, but you aren't. I wonder why that is…" Wilbur looked at Ranboo with a knowing, teasing grin. 

Ranboo shut his eyes, shaking his head in a vain effort to block out the teasing. "YEHEAH, WOHONDEHER WHY!" He knew he could easily get away- he did have two feet of height on Wilbur- he just didn’t want to. Ranboo was enjoying himself, despite his protests that Wilbur could easily see through. 

As much as Wilbur (and Ranboo) was having fun he could tell the other was reaching his limit. Although the tickles were a ‘punishment’ he didn’t want to push Ranboo too far. Wilbur was sure the other had learned his lesson for now at the very least. He slowed his hands until he was barely moving them against Ranboo’s hips before eventually stopping altogether and withdrawing his hands.

As soon as Wilbur stopped, Ranboo was gasping for breath while continuing to giggle from the ghost tickles still present on his hips. 

“Ranboo, you okay? Need anything?” Wilbur immediately dropped his tough ler act, instead adopting a more caring, brotherly attitude. He gently ran his fingers through Ranboo’s hair in an effort to calm the other down, smiling when Ranboo completely melted at the physical affection. 

Ranboo slightly looked up at Wilbur shyly before muttering “Cuddles? Maybe?” 

Wilbur quietly awwed and whispered hushed praises at how well the other had done and how he was proud of him. At the praise, cuddles, and Wilbur gently playing with his hair Ranboo fell asleep feeling content and safe. 

[yanderart]

   Once you found Shouto on the Anti-Purge forums, it felt so wonderful to be understood. So comforting to finally have someone you could rely on...

So, when you got a letter notifying you of your selection for the Annual Purge later on, of course you went to seek his help.

Should’ve known better than to trust strangers online, though.

My fic/portrait convo for the Yandere Purge Collab, from the Lovesick Discord. And please check the rest of the m. list for other amazing works set in the same AU!

Under the cut is the actual fic (Todoroki x Reader, nsfw, dark themes, 10k), as well as the respective TWs. Hope y'all enjoy 🥀

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Tws: Usual yandere ones (stalking, manipulation, delusion). Dub-con/Non-con. Non-consensual Drug Use, aka Aphrodisiacs. Death threats and sexism (from randoms on the forum, not Todo). 

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   You couldn’t think straight —hadn’t been able to since waking up again. All you could recognize amidst the fog currently obscuring your thoughts was the longing, prolonged, and tangible in its hold over your being.

You felt hot all over, the flames licking at your skin burning brightly as you squirmed from your place, eagerly attempting to get closer to the cold reprieve emanating from the man that held you. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, Y/N." One of his hands was steering you on his lap, the other one gently massaging your shoulders in a comforting motion. “I can only help you if you do."

If your judgment had not been overcast by the desire pushing away your self-awareness, then perhaps you could’ve heard the faint hint of amusement in his voice. Perhaps you would’ve thought to look up and finally encounter the content shine of his heterochromatic eyes.

“I feel…" speaking was laborious, your tongue impossibly weighty and your mind swirling with thoughts that escaped any semblance of coherence. “I feel hot all over. It hurts.”

The hand positioned around your waist went to search for one of your clenched ones, easily engulfing it in his grip as he nudged the side of your face with his chin rather tenderly. A gentle encouragement for you to stay attentive, anchoring you to the moment despite your dazed mindset. 

“Show me then,” his low timbre tickled your skin, sending another wave of excruciating heat to wreak havoc inside your body, “Let me know where it hurts.”

With a stuttering sigh, you proceeded to press both of your hands to your lower stomach, gulping audibly before bringing them further down. Dancing just short of your underwear while your eyelids fluttered shut. 

You knew your actions were out of character deep down. Even recognized the shadow of wrongness that distorted the current scene. You weren't supposed to do such things, weren't supposed to feel like that…

But the reality was that you were so excruciatingly warm by that point, and his palm felt so deliciously cold. 

When you heard the dreadful siren going off in the distance, the instantly recognizable sound of the Purge starting at last, you were already too far gone to think of anything else but the fingers brushing against the thin cotton of your panties, so close to the evidence of your need soaking through them. 

Your parents had told you not to trust strangers online once upon a time. You should’ve really taken their advice more to heart.

。。。。。

   But first, perhaps a little tracing of your steps is in order —some necessary context to fully understand the extension of your plight. 

You see, earlier that day you had woken up full of a peculiar mix of drive and determination. It was indeed Purge Day, the single day of the year you had grown to fear the most  ever since childhood, and yet for once you found yourself oddly relaxed, filled to the brim with resolve instead of your usual nerves. 

Which was already an unexpected turn of events, considering you had just gotten a letter notifying you of your selection as one of the accursed Darlings of the Night. 

A gentle reminder that, if caught, your life would stop belonging to yourself for an entire dreadful year. 

Because a Yandere had their sight on you now, or so the notice had informed you in impeccable typography. Anxious fingertips memorized the slight raise of inked words, inspecting every single detail the letter carried.

You had imagined a monster ready to pounce just outside your door then, fitting enough to be the carrier of your bad news. A preternaturally grotesque being, built from all the Yandere themed horror stories you had heard throughout the years.  

And yet there you were, feeling safer in that instant than you had in years; Because this time you had a plan. He made sure to give you one you could easily follow.

Just like he later made sure to welcome you in with a kind smile and awfully persistent hospitality. 

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

You should've known better than to accept.

。。。。。

   In the present, fingers were now dipping under the elastic of your panties, ghosting across feverish skin and encouraging your whimpers to grow louder. 

"Is this what you want, then?" The man's breath tickled one of your ears, rough digits gathering your slickness with practiced ease. And he sounded genuinely concerned too, as if your discomfort was not a consequence of his own machinations. "Because I wanna ease your pain, baby. Give you what you truly need."

He barely even touched you yet you were already struggling not to crumble, the desire governing your mind mixing with the new sensations to create a new delirious kind of torment. 

Continuing to tease you, the man was relentless in his torture, barely even brushing over your neediest spots. A gentle press of his palm to stimulate you for a moment before pulling back, much to your shameful frustration; Better than nothing, but not close enough. 

In his own way, though, he was urging you to speak up. Expecting you to demand what you truly wanted. 

Yet as a retort, all you could come up with was gasping out his name, dripping from your lips like honeyed prayers as your hips fought to buck up against his hand. 

 A sound you afterward repeated a hundred times over. Chanted until its melody became engraved on your tongue and the man was finally caving in, sliding his fingers inside with a smirk. 

He had known you'd end up caving, had planned for it for months now, and yet nothing had prepared him for the actual view.

。。。。。

   Shou, actually, had been his username when you first met him. Once upon a time recited with a genuine smile and an eagerness to please, such a far cry from the anguished whines it would later lead up to.

You started frequenting the forum he inhabited a few months back. A place which happened to be a hidden corner of the internet for people who did not just stumble upon it, but actually sought it out. A part of the web where its occupants challenged societal norms and, against what society had tried to condition you all into thinking,  chose to voice their taboo Anti-Purge sentiments instead. 

Sentiments perhaps born either due to the inherent discriminatory nature of the holiday (why was it that Yanderes were accommodated for, while Darlings barely got a warning before they were made prey?), a need for contrarianism (when opposing open kidnappings, assault and other debauchery became an act of rebellion), or just a tenuous moral high ground which made it unbearable to stomach. Whatever the reason, it was your first time encountering such a density of like-minded peers.

Despite attempting to commit yourself to being a lurker, deciding to never post or reply to others, your days had still quickly become consumed by the need to read each and every topic. You were simply fascinated with this new dark corner of the web. 

That was, of course, until the aforementioned Shou became the main focus of your attention, a dash of intriguing brightness to break the monotony of your existence.

And like moths rushing to the flame, your curiosity would be your undoing.  

There was something about him that pulled you in (along with many others from the community, which tended to flock on his posts whenever he grazed the forums). His username was clearly just a nickname instead of a carefully crafted pseudonym; profile picture just an image of the back of what you all assumed to be his hair, dual-toned strands catching the light in a hypnotic way.

Truly, his disregard for anonymity within those parts was a bigger statement than you were expecting, almost as commendable as it was dumbfounding. There was the nature of his postings too, never subtle about his inclinations or ideas. 

   How to disarm and reutilize Purge Traps. 

   Most effective ways to incapacitate a violent assailant.  

   Government lies and why they matter. 

   Faking a BOPC (breach of purge code) and getting away with it.

There was little method to the madness that was his forum activity, besides the hint that he was evidently more knowledgeable about the subject than most. Plus the fact that he was proactive about his advice, actually seeking to teach others to fight back instead of just hide away and hope for the best. For another self-proclaimed Darling, Shou was ruthless with his methods —it was hard not to admire him.

And admire you did, keeping tabs of his sporadic bursts of activity and speeding to try and interact with him whenever you caught him online. You were, to voice it simply, simply star-truck by him (and perhaps becoming a bit of a fangirl). 

Because whoever Shou was, it felt like he understood you. And so, against every ounce of your common sense or natural paranoia, you had finally decided to break your golden rule and reach out for the first time since you joined the niche forum. 

And not to just leave a vague comment agreeing on public discourse, but to actually send him a private message. In your defense, how were you supposed to know the chains of events your actions would start?

   Do you actually believe what you post?, had been your lame conversation starter. 

Luckily for you, he did not leave you hanging. You made sure to send the message while he was still active, one of the few days a week you knew he devoted to his presence on the site (and wasn't it slightly creepy, how you had taken the time to learn his schedule by that point?)

   I wouldn't be here if I didn't, dry, to the point and leaving you embarrassed to have even sent the first question. 

Yet for some reason, something about Shou reverted you back into a middle school kid seeking to impress a way cooler senior. 

Perhaps it was what he symbolized (a change for the better), what he appeared to be (everything you wish you were) —whatever it was, your fingers were frantically typing a reply as soon as his appeared on your screen. 

   I just think it's amazingThe things you know

   How you share them with everyone

   The way you see through the lies

   I just think you're— , your digits hovered over the keyboard as you were about to type out the last sentence before quickly deleting it. Even in your excitement, you knew how obsessed you'd sound if you started complimenting him personally in your very first conversation. 

So instead you sent your thoughts on his posts and awaited his answer with bated breath. A few minutes ticked by this time, your anxiety making you count down the seconds in mortified silence, slowly weighted down by your doubts until your notifications for the forum were going off again with a distinct ping. 

   I've seen your replies around. I think you're great too. 

Whatever your hang ups for praising him directly had been, he clearly did not harbor any. As the prongs of nervousness alleviated their hold over your body, you struggled to see any problems with it either…this was a person you had come to idolize, and they thought you were great?

Your smile, while still anxious, was considerable while you quickly responded. 

   I'm just a n00b. Learning from the pros. 

A moment of thought, biting your bottom lip as you decided whether to add a second message or not. Fuck it, you told yourself. 

   I wasn't even supposed to be posting anything, but you made me wanna reach out. 

Was that too forward? Oh god, it was, wasn't it? You must've sounded creepy, must've sounded desperate and…

   That's cute. Did my ramblings teach you anything? 

An actual squeal left you then, sounding like it came from an altogether different person. You were an adult, with a career and responsibilities… Yet somehow, this stranger online indirectly calling you cute made you more excited than you were comfortable admitting.

   Ofc. I didn't even know what a BOPC was before. Didn't know most of the purge traps you mentioned, either. 

The spaces between replies were getting smaller, the conversation turning fluent as you both seemed to be staring straight into the screen, waiting for the other to finish typing. 

   So you really are a n00b then. 

Shit, did you fail some sort of forum etiquette by admitting that? Somehow, the need to impress Shou was more palpable than ever. 

   And you clearly know your stuff. Makes me wanna up my game. 

Be more like you, you left unsaid. 

   So am I your senpai then? 

Your fingers froze just above the keyboards, eyes scanning over Shou's last message and reverted back to staring at his profile pic for a solid minute. You would've squealed again, if you weren't so taken aback. 

   You make it sound like I am, his second message lit up your screen, coming in quickly after your rare pause in replies.

   I don't think that's bad, though. Third message from him, and you were close to fainting now. 

   Then in that case I suppose you are. You wondered whether Shou wouldn't think you were pathetic admitting that, or whether he had been honest by saying he didn't mind... 

   I've also noticed you agreeing with some of my more polarizing views. 

A welcomed change in topics. 

You thought to ask him which ones (most of his posts tended to have a polarizing effect, with people finding him either too radicalized or not radicalized enough), but before you could formulate the question you saw the twinkling circles symbolizing he was typing up another sentence.

   Do you actually believe them? And now it was his turn to spit your words back at you. 

   Well, yah. You make compelling arguments. 

   Color me impressed then, the start of his new retort left your mind spinning. Never met a n00b like you before. 

After his declaration, you found yourself writing and rewriting your answer, hesitating on your word choice, and yet pure elation coursed through your veins. 

He said he's impressed with me, your brain kept supplying on loop. You had no way of knowing just how much of a lasting impression you were leaving. 

   I don't wanna stay one tho. I'd like to jump a few levels. Improve.

Barely a moment's notice before his last message provoked a noticeable hitch in your breath. 

   I can help you with that. 

Which, as short of a reply as it was, left you giddier than would’ve been healthier to admit. 

Perhaps it could be chalked up to your work shifts growing more monotonous and tiresome, your social life becoming a faint echo of what it used to be, or just the regular wear and tear from a too-plain existence —a routine where you didn’t tend to engage with life, but just passively watched it go by.

Whatever the true reason was, that night you went to sleep with such a wide grin that the apples of your cheeks had started to hurt from the exertion, infinitely excited after getting to talk firsthand with someone you had already come to admire by that point. 

It almost made you self-conscious, knowing just how much it all meant to you, how such a small gesture on his part happened to mean the world to you. 

But there was really no reason to feel ashamed or overzealous over your own reaction. If you could’ve seen Shou, you would’ve known you weren’t the only one smiling.

。。。。。

   Almost as open of a smile as the one adorning his features right now, currently hidden from your view as his fingers set a maddening pace. Tortuously slow at first until his knuckles started brushing against your opening with each thrust. 

All you could hear now were the wet sounds of your arousal facilitating his movements, motions whose only purpose seemed to be to drive you more rambling and disoriented by the second. 

"Is this what you want? What you need, perhaps?" His usually calm voice was uncharacteristically affected as he gasped against your ear, the torture he was making you endure clearly getting to him as well. 

You were much too preoccupied with the waves of pleasure and warmth overflowing your body to give a proper response, but your lack of one did not deter him. 

If anything, your needy gasps and whines were the only encouragement he required. 

"Don't worry, Y/N. I'll take care of you, make you feel good."

By that point, the hand that had been petting your hair had found its way to your sopping heat too, calloused pads circling around your pearl while the man continued feeding you his eager promises. 

"I get you, baby. Just like you get me." So close, your entire body taut and ready to snap. "And you want me to take care of you too, right?"

You weren't conscious enough to understand the implications, your impaired judgment prohibiting you from reading further into the meaning of his words. He sounded so encouraging, so deceivingly tender despite stuffing you full of his fingers as you squirmed on his lap. 

All you could do was nod furiously.

And later on, when your senses sadly returned, dedicated yourself to lamenting over which of your actions brought you down this unfortunate path. 

。。。。。

    Perhaps, your consciousness supplied, it had been the fact that you opened up so readily. That you had dared to share with a supposed new friend, things that should’ve better stayed hidden in the first place.   

But goddamn it, you felt downright honored that he even considered you worthy enough to entertain in the first place. From the very first second, Shouto already had the upper hand. 

During the first few conversations, the topics you two discussed were all closely related to the purge and your mutual hang ups with it. Concise and carefully typed out messages were exchanged, discussing opinions you had never expected anyone to be interested in hearing—not from you, at least. 

But then, as the weeks slowly progressed, the subjects of conversation began shifting to both of your lives, to your occupations, hobbies, and, directly against the forum's policy for privacy, the people you two were outside the confines of your online corner. 

Even without actually exchanging any real data or supplying him with your name or age, you found yourself starting to open up more and more with each day.

You told him about your grueling office job, the friends you hadn’t seen or texted in weeks, and the reality of an apartment which more closely resembled a containment cell than a home…

Revelations that you had kept hidden for so long, which now came pouring out without regard for how mortified they made you feel. You were conscious of the limits blurring between you two the further you kept going, of how you were telling him things best left unsaid, cramped and buried in a hard to reach place. 

And yet, for some obscure reason, everything Shou represented made it impossible for you to resist the temptation to speak up, to demand to be heard for the first time in an eternity of quietness. 

You’re pathetic, is what you expected him to say in return. Pathetic, weak, meager, and worthless. Anticipating him, somehow, to echo all the doubts and deeply held fears you carried inside. 

   Most of my friends don’t understand either, was instead the response you  received. But most people don’t see what's wrong, what needs to be changed. You feel lonely because you do.

It wasn’t clear what you would’ve wanted to hear beforehand, the things you had fantasized someone would reply if you ever gathered the courage to share your anxieties. Whatever those expectations had been an eternity ago, they now vastly paled when compared to what your new friend was dangling in front of you. 

It felt like he was giving an excuse for things you had always perceived as personal failings. If what he said was true, it would mean it wasn’t your social ineptitude that kept people away, your uselessness, or uninteresting personality.

It would mean the shadows around you could still be dispelled somehow, exorcising the silhouettes of a suffering that had become a regular companion in your day to day life.

Brandishing a courage that only anonymity could give you, your fingers were a blur on your keyboard as you tried to ignore the rapid heartbeat in your chest, the fear, and exhilaration from opening up for the first time in forever. 

Something you would later regret a thousand times over.

   And you do too, and it wasn’t a question, a nervous comment or a stuttered retort. With the aid of the text format, you could look as confident as you knew you weren’t. You understand as well. 

You understand me, was the tacit meaning behind it. The prickling of unshed tears made it so you were furiously blinking, fighting against the downpour despite your eyes refusing to leave the screen for longer than an instant. 

   I do. More than you realize.

For all intents and purposes, your first mistake was indeed opening up. 

And your second one was being naive enough to let him in. Seriously, why hadn’t you heeded your parent’s advice about stranger danger?

。。。。。

   ...If they could only see you now, coming apart at the seams and with the name of your tormentor being the only word you were able to string together. 

"Such a beauty, and all for me," his praises accompanied you through the rough orgasm ripping through your body, lips kissing your forehead in stark contrast to the digits still pumping inside your heat. "Let me hear your voice, baby. Let me hear how beautiful my name sounds on your lips."

And you obeyed, because what other choice did you have. Mindless, broken, and oh, so needy. 

You continued to audibly moan as your climax unwound, crying out his name in absolute reverence while Shouto's smile deepened against your skin. The chill of his touch was still as soothing as ever, calming down the embers of a lust that refused to completely die down.

When he finally pulled his hands from your core, you felt excruciatingly empty. But you were not given enough time to wallow in your despair, because who you once considered your friend was then grasping your face gently between his hands, leading your gaze to meet his—forcing you to witness the intensity and adoration present there. 

"My Y/N."

Even in your deeply intoxicated state, the last few dredges of your senses supplied just how utterly abhorrent the situation was. 

The sirens signaling the start of the Purge had died down a while ago, drowned out by your own cries of pleasure, but you could still see the remnants of the government logo still plastered all over the TV, its bright glow bathing you both in an eerily scarlet ambiance. 

From the same weak place of coherence, a shiver of fear managed to break through your stupor. 

"You're going to continue to be a good girl for me, aren't you?" 

When he kissed you then, slow and almost ironically hesitant despite what had just transpired moments before, you couldn't begin to tell your body to refuse. Much to your own horror, you were soon eagerly kissing your tormentor back. 

。。。。。                                                      

   The second mistake leading up to your downfall, on the other hand, took a little longer to occur. It was after a few more weeks of conversation. You vented and talked way too much, while Shou listened intently and even rewarded you with a few crumbs of advice of his own.  

So wrapped up in your new seemingly innocuous friendship you were in, you failed to recognize the magnitude of an event that should've sent you scrambling to shut off your monitor. A warning so loud it would've put the Purge sirens themselves to shame. 

You see, with Shou's help, you were slowly becoming more of an active user around those parts. You didn't just stick to replying to his posts or lurking until he shot you a private message anymore; no, you were now officially a contributor, deciding to step out of your anonymity to share what you thought was a fairly interesting article. It was a rather long-winded thinkpiece on the morality of Darlings’ treatment after the Purge had ended—the reality of that year spent in captivity that most people tended to just brush under the carpet, all in the name of making the entire ordeal more palatable to digest. 

In all your eagerness, however, you had failed to realize a very crucial detail, which was that the article was a whole two days old. Already an ancient text by forum's standards, apparently. 

So with that in mind, of course you should've expected the hate, an outpouring of bitterness fit for a community of loners and acidic underdogs. You were on an anonymous forum on one of the darkest parts of the internet, somewhere most sane people actively stayed away from—Clearly, a rookie unwittingly reposting something was the perfect target for a lot of your bitter comrades. An excuse to finally take out all of their pent up frustration.  

   Fuck1ng pleb, thanks for copy-pasting the same post for the 55th time. 

   This is why we shouldn't let newbies post. Look at this mess @mods.

   Time to hang it up, n00b. And by “it”, I mean your f****** neck.  

   i bet ur a girl, [Username]. u type like a b1tch. 

And the icing on the cake for internet interactions, a myriad of wall spamming "KYS" being plastered all across the comment section, bold and daunting as they filled your notification box with the repetitions of hate. If you weren't so sure of your safety behind your screen, perhaps you would've felt intimidated. 

As it stood, you were just embarrassed, mortified at the fact that you had seemingly botched your only attempt at leaving a positive first impression. If anything, it only seemed you had given everyone a common enemy to pick on for once...

Or that was, at least, until Shou happened to log in at exactly that precise moment. You knew he was usually busy around that day and time (he never actually told you whether he had a job, but you had surmised as much from your past chats), so his instantly recognizable profile picture and username popping up had you genuinely gasping at first. It was one hell of a coincidence, but you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief at what looked to be your savior.

   Everyone, stop getting your panties in a twist. This is why no new users end up staying, the environment is abhorrent. 

It was vague enough not to betray the fact that you two weren’t just strangers anymore, as well as keeping Shou’s reputation as a lone wolf from completely shattering.

And a comment which, surprisingly, instantly dulled most of the incoming messages your post was being flooded with. 

People respected him there, his status as a renowned user giving him a genuine sort of power and hold over the rest of the community. One of the first things you had recognized on the forums was the distinct hierarchical structures amongst its users, and there Shou might’ve as well be granted the title of mayor for all the weight his every sentence carried.

Or at least they did with the majority of the community. As in every place where large numbers of people gathered, there were always a few rotten apples just begging to be tossed. 

   and ofc ur whiteknighting for her, Shou The Great. shes sucking ur dick under evry single post u make

You cringed, studying the bitter user that had decided to be a contrarian and easily recognizing him from unsavory past encounters you witnessed. Although, if you were completely honest, this time you couldn't exactly say his words didn't carry a certain degree of validity.

Shou had told you he was glad that was the case with you, that his post resonating with anyone was one of the main reasons why he hadn't just disappeared from the site completely. But in reality, saying you weren't subtle about your agreement with his ideas would be an understatement. 

You were like a puppy skipping behind him, trailing his interactions and always ready to write an eager comment backing him up. Yet you had never thought others actually paid attention to your mostly one-sided interactions, the occasional meager downvote or emote being the only thing that made you aware your comments weren’t just lost in the sea of spam Shou’s posts were usually showered in. 

For the longest time, your support had just felt like leaving letters for the man to find. Letters you hadn’t even been sure had reached their target until a few weeks back...

Suddenly, the sharp sound of Shou's incoming reply drove you from your tribulations.  

   Well, maybe if you weren't such a crude man you wouldn't be permabanned from starting topics yourself. Although I doubt anyone would be sucking your dick either way, shitty ideology considered. [Image attached]

A grimace was quick to grow on your face as you aptly studied the picture Shou decided to close his reply with.

It was a screenshot of what looked to be someone's post history, a rather extensive list with alarmingly offensive titles such as "Why male darlings should be spared", "The purge is a form of cuckoldry" and “Feminist agenda: female yanderes and their biological advantage [Repost]". Almost all of them exhibited a tragic downvote ratio right as well, besides the red symbol signaling the posts had been archived by senior users or mods.

For someone who also loathed the terrible holiday, it was almost admirable how the man managed to be almost as detestable as the criminals you all rallied against. 

But even so, what disturbed you the most wasn't the clear bigotry of the user, but the fact that that screenshot couldn't have been taken from public records. A user's post history was hidden, just another measure on the site’s part to keep people from recognizing too many details about each other and possibly endangering themselves. 

No, it could only have been taken from inside the account. And judging from the other guy's quick reaction, you weren't the only one who came to that realization.

   how the fck did u get that

   I knew u were friends with the mods. fcking rats 

By that point, everyone else had stopped clogging the comments and, you assumed, instead opted to settle down and attentively observe the events transpiring. Apart from the emote reactions and the rapidly rising number of upvotes on Shou’s comments, you had all become a passive audience to the public ridicule.

Although you couldn’t help feeling slightly disjointed by Shou’s behavior. Below your wicked sense of pride at having him defend you, there was still the whispers of your gut telling you the man was going a little too far, his actions spelling a more sinister meaning than just “having a friend’s back”.

   You've been here for years, Minoru. Surprised you haven't yet noticed how much of a pest everyone sees you as. 

Minoru? You did a double-take, going back to read the username of the guy Shou was arguing with. But he just had a randomly generated number as a pseudonym, same as you and most others, and with just a picture of some anime sneezing girl to distinguish his profile from the rest. No trails or signs of what could Shouto be referencing to.

Nothing but an option you preferred not to consider. But it couldn't be, could it? your friend wouldn’t...

   fucking delete that right now, man.

   this isn't a joke, DELETE THAT. 

Only that the abrasive and desperate reaction told you everything you needed to know. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, shock mixing with equal parts horror and amazement you couldn’t even begin to try and disentangle. Because right that second, you were witnessing your friend breaking the forum’s number one rule with a front-row seat to the spectacle. 

And he was doing it all in your name.

   Then maybe think twice before you go out of your way to harass newbies. Or have you had too much time on your hands after being fired, is that it?

It was vague enough not to represent any kind of threat... if not for the context of the site. And yet you all knew the hidden message behind it, the warning for whoever Minoru was to understand Shou knew much more than what he was letting on. That he could expose much more than he was currently alluding to. 

   y are u even doing this, shou? y do u care wtf happens to this noobslut anyways?

Shou's reply took barely a moment to appear, lighting up your screen and, despite the slightly morbid nature of his protection, coaxing out a smile to adorn your lips. It was like a balm being applied to your worries, quieting down most of your incipient concerns in favor of rejoicing. 

   They're a friend. 

For fuck’s sake, you even screenshotted that for posterity. Somehow, him acknowledging the new bond you two had openly felt like a milestone. 

When a mod came in to archive the post and give everyone involved a stern warning later on, you were already way past your previous doubtful sentiments. 

Instead, the last thing you did before going to sleep that day was to open up your private conversation with Shou and send a quick yet heartfelt message of gratitude his way. 

Months prior, you wouldn’t have ever thought you’d be thanking anyone for semi doxxing another human being. How rapidly things were changing, though, and all while you got lost in the thrill of mattering.

   Thanks for sticking up for me. It meant a lot, you typed feeling slightly lightheaded, drunk on the idea that anyone would think you worthy of having your back.

You thought Shou went offline after dishing out his not so thinly veiled threats, but somehow he was back again in an instant, the sound of notifications going off shaking any remnants of your exhaustion.  

   Anything for you, [Y/N]. 

You were so tired, it didn't occur to you that you hadn't yet shared your real name with your friend either.

That night, for once, you fell asleep with a twinkle in your eye and the image of Shou's multicolored locks dancing against your eyelids. Imagining, ever so briefly, your fingers trailing down the back of a neck you now had memorized from analyzing his profile picture. 

And, while you slept with your phone clutched to your side, you also failed to notice the peculiar sound of your own camera going off, the soft glow from the red light beside your lense bathing your features in its subtle illumination, flickering against your eyelashes and the lingering grin on your curved lips. 

You truly looked angelic like that. 

Suffice it to say, Minoru never bothered you again after that day. In fact, his name disappeared from the site not too soon after. 

。。。。。                                                   

    But now, to continue the grueling task of giving a context for your inevitable end, it is necessary to jump a month further into the future, barely a week from the excruciating present. 

Because it was then that the last strike finished nailing the coffin of your proverbial undoing, burying you under the weight of your own ignorance.

You got your notice in the mail on the Day of Announcements, an inconspicuous letter lacking any further distinction beyond a scarlet government seal emblazoned across its front. But even before you opened and read the message, you already knew of its contents—easily recognizing the image before you from several of the varied posts you had seen floating around on the forums lately.

   Purge Notice!!! Help needed Urgently. 

   Just got my letter. Do I stay hidden or fight back? [Open poll]

   Third time getting mine. AMA about my methods. 

The range of how you had seen other users reacting to their own selections was diverse, with some of them being more experienced while others, such as you, had just gotten their first letter ever. If things played out differently for you, then you were sure you would've been another one of the numerous panicked voices, awkwardly trying to maneuver their way out of their new situation.

And maybe, then, your odds wouldn't have been so completely fucked from the start. 

As it stood, as soon as you laid eyes on the notice, the first thing you thought of was how quickly you could boot up your computer and open the forum’s private messages. Because, for the first time in forever, you were overwhelmed by the feeling of someone else being there for you. 

Shou was your friend, had earned that spot fair and square after months of listening to you venting and sharing deep discussions; faster than you could even realize it, and so it was only natural for you to seek his help once the news of your selection for the new yearly Purge reached you. 

He had even threatened another user for your sake, for fuck’s sake. So, really, what harm could come out of relying on someone you were sure was trustworthy?

Maybe it was too late by that point for you to snap out of it, but it was almost amusing seeing you being so easily deceived. 

Just another reason why you needed him, certainly.

 。。。。。

    Already told you I'd have your back, had been his immediate reply barely an instant after you attached a candid photo of your hand holding up the envelope. Whatever you need, I’m here.

His lack of hesitation was palpable through your screen, heart hammering in your chest as you were faced with a kindness you had thought yourself undeserving of not long ago. 

As soon as you closed your mailbox, you had immediately raced to send him the message, completely foregoing telling any of your other friends or family members when you doubted they would even understand you in the first place. Shou had been right when he told you people just didn’t want to see the truth, even if it slapped them right in the face, leaving dark imprints in the shape of their narrow mindedness.

But he was there, he was letting you know as much, in his own words. And for what felt like the hundredth time in the past few months, you felt incredibly lucky to have stumbled upon the Forums in the first place, to have traced whatever fortunate path had led you to find him—the one person able to distinguish you in a world you always thought you blended straight into. 

   Thank you, Shou, for everything. And at that moment, you really had been truthful, so much so that there were tears prickling at your eyes, an overwhelming feeling of gratitude drowning you with its intensity.

Indeed, your final mistake had been your desperate need for acceptance. A need that had, in the end, cost you everything.

   You can call me Shouto now. No use for nicknames anymore.

Amidst the chaos of your life possibly crashing down all around you, somehow his revelation put a trembling smile back in your face. 

   Then allow me to repeat: thank you, Shouto. 

   Np, Newbie. Told you I'd help you level up, didn't I? 

His teasing managed to garner a small stuttering laugh out of you despite the dreadfulness of your situation. 

But you couldn’t help it. Somehow, every reply Shouto sent you only served to wrap the illusion of safety tighter around you. So tight in fact, that you should’ve started worrying about suffocating. 

。。。。。

   On the other side of the screen, the man with the multicolored hair couldn’t help but keep staring at the picture you had sent him earlier. 

He was transfixed, eyes almost unblinking as they refused to separate from the image. The way your fingers tentatively held the letter up for the picture was simply adorable to him. Beautifully naive. 

It wasn't like he hadn't seen your face before, like he hadn't already memorized the texture of your skin and the everlasting trace of a frown always threatening to dampen your mood. He read your expressions like poetry, every mole and scar furthering the securing of his interest. 

But this was the first picture you had actually chosen to send him out of your own volition, the final symbol of a trust he had worked so tirelessly to earn. Used to catching prey as he was, the man wasn’t entirely sure when you had turned from a game into a priority, from a priority into the only thing he could even make himself care for.

And it didn’t help that it was his letter you were holding, too. His formal declaration of pursuit. 

With time, Shouto was sure you would find it in yourself to appreciate the beauty of such irony. 

But, for now, what he really needed to do was buy some tea. Couldn’t have your own stubbornness ruining your first encounter, could he?

。。。。。

   In the coming weeks, your friend aided you and even coached you as you jointly planned for the horrific holiday, not only suggesting ideas but tracing the safety measures needed for them to succeed. You really had no reason to doubt him by that point.

That evening, after you finished letting Shouto know you were back from work, you made sure to pack all of your supplies into an inconspicuous bag you had acquired for the occasion. Whoever your Yandere was, it was best to not give any hints of your new acquisitions, just in case they were already stalking your movements. 

Shouto had helped you devise the list, mentoring you in your selection of weapons as well as self-defense arsenal—what brands of pepper spray to get, which ammunitions were most efficient and reliable, even what kind of clothing was the least troublesome if the need to escape ever arose. If you had been sure he knew his craft before, now you were surprised at just how vast his wisdom genuinely was. 

After the last few finishing touches of preparations, you were already on your way to the direction you had both agreed on (supplied by him, approved by you). There were several hours until the start of the Purge still, but the adrenaline swimming through your bloodstream was already considerable. 

Shouto had suggested you visited him for the Holiday, quoting how the measures in place for his home made it nothing short of a fortified vault, impossible for any outsiders to break into (and for anyone to break out of, but let's not get ahead of ourselves). 

With that in mind, how could you have refused his offer? Your place was barely an excuse for an apartment, windows that didn't entirely close, and feeble doors that could be easily broken into. Even if you weren't partly driven by the curiosity of meeting your new internet idol turned friend, it would've been foolish to decline. 

So in a few hours, you were sporting a nervous smile on your face as you parked your car in front of the largest apartment complex you had ever encountered. It was luxurious in a way you had only seen staring back at you from a television screen, marble, and gold accents giving you the impression you were about to step into a drama set instead of visiting an online friend. 

Before the surrealism of the entire situation could begin to set in, however, you noticed the young man sitting on the ample stairs of the building. He had an air of effortless elegance, tall and lithe, yet sporting a black turtleneck which hugged his frame and made it clear just how much sheer strength hid behind his movements. 

And he also sported the same peculiarly colored locks you had already memorized from the last few months, the light softly reflecting on them proving to be an even more impressive show when admired live. 

You were dazzled for an instant, wondering if, somehow, this entire thing was a prank and the Shou from the forums had just schemed his way into making a fool out of you in front of a handsome stranger. Way too convoluted, yet entirely too plausible to your bewildered self. 

Until the man lifted his eyes—as beautifully dual-toned as his hair, and catching sight of you standing just beside your recently parked vehicle. 

"Y/N," he was sharply climbing to his feet as he called out your name, the shy hint of a smile in his lip contradicting the monotone cadence of his tone. "Good to finally meet you."

You had first been under the impression that the Shou you knew was cold, the way he interacted with others on the site reminding you of an emotionless robot at times, but the man addressing you seemed like he was ripped straight out of a stereotypical rom-com. 

Maybe he'd be the aloof, tormented heir? Which, in your fantasy drama land, would make you the nearly illiterate and poor love interest. Your feelings of inadequacy only grew at the comparison.

Almost cute, how that had been one of your greatest worries once upon a time. How foolishly eager you were to be liked back then.

"Shouto." The name still felt somewhat strange on your lips, even after he had insisted you started calling him that. "It's good to meet you, too."

He was by your side in an instant, taking your bags from you swiftly and shutting the door to your ride. From this up close, it became considerably harder to disguise your staring. 

Even the scar which covered his left eye, a splash of reddish textured skin, somehow came across like yet another enhancer of his appeal. An underlying harshness which you couldn't help but be intrigued by. 

"Your hair looks even better in person."

And leave it to you to once again find a way to screw first impressions. You were chastising yourself a mere second after the words left your mouth. 

But Shouto only sent you that same hint of a smirk your way, his eyes appearing genuinely pleased at your praise. If he thought you were a weirdo and was regretting ever inviting you to his house, then he was a good enough actor for you to be fooled.

And fooled you he did, but with completely different intentions. 

"You look just like in your pictures," came his serene retort not long after.

Which you assumed was a joke, keeping in mind that the only photo you had ever sent his way had been of the Purge letter you received a few days ago.

Laughing lightly, you tried to ignore the nerves tugging at your chest before catching up with him on the steps of the building. 

As you giddily barged straight into the open jaws of the beast, it once again struck Shouto how utterly unsuspecting you were. How you trusted him so wholeheartedly.

He couldn't wait to see it all come crashing down.

。。。。。

   Inside his honest to god penthouse, your previous feeling of insufficiency only became more severe. 

The interiors were decorated sparingly, albeit fashionably. Filled with different muted shades and being unexpectedly traditional in the way they were designed. It was a stunning abode, even if you couldn't help but mentally point out how utterly unlived in it appeared.

There was not a single cup, shoe, or book out of place, everything perfectly polished and organized to the point that you felt hesitance as your sock-covered feet continued making their way through the place.

"Make yourself at home," Shouto told you most matter-of-factly. If you weren't so sure of his intentions by now, perhaps you would've thought he was being sarcastic. 

Without any of your belongings to distract yourself with, you instead gravitated towards what you could see of the kitchen through one of the sliding doors. 

It was very modern despite the rest of the aesthetic the penthouse sported, shiny stainless steel and spotless dark countertops. It should've looked out of place when paired with the carpeted floors, wooden furniture, and sparse pieces of classical Japanese art…

Yet somehow, it strangely fits. Just like his owner, you supposed, thinking back to the oddities that amounted to his unique brand of appeal.

And you really needed to stop thinking of your friend like that. 

When you heard the door to the apartment being audibly locked with a resounding click, you instantly stopped your fingers grazing the smooth countertops. Your instincts flared up with worry for a moment, right before you forcefully willed yourself to calm down.  

After reminding yourself of the true reason why you were there, the exhale you released next was one of clear relief. 

"Want something to drink?" Shouto appeared in your line of sight again, hands buried in the pockets of his pants and looking like the picture of composure. 

You felt embarrassed once again, knowing he had given you a free pass to roam but still somewhat self-conscious about intruding on his space. 

"You don't need to make me anything. I'm fine." Your timbre was apologetic, not used to slipping into the role of a guest just yet. 

He seemed strangely dissatisfied with your answer, closing some of the distance between you with a presence that had you almost flinching back for a second. 

There was an intensity in his gaze, something which you could not quite yet place. 

"But I want to be a good host. So let me." He appeared very serious about it, too, with his face growing stern as his peculiar eyes bore into yours. 

Not wanting to cause further distress, you imagined relenting would be the best course of action. 

It was like you were molded to be the perfect Darling, so wonderfully meek and gullible.

"Okay then. Water is fine."

Yet Shouto shook his head, still somewhat dissatisfied with your answer. 

"Tea it is." His phrasing allowed little space for argument. "I know you mentioned liking a few brands before, so I took the liberty of stocking up on them."

A surprising burst of laughter broke through your anxious feelings then, drawing Shouto's eyes again from the particular cabinet they had drifted to as he mentioned the beverages. 

He looked at you puzzled, an unasked question written all over his otherwise blank expression, and so you decided to reply from the surge of unexpected amusement you were experiencing. 

"It's only a night, Shou," you didn't even realize you had slipped back into his nickname, too entertained by how much he had apparently overdone his hospitality. "There really wasn't any need for you to go buy my favorite teas."

His eyes blinked quite slowly your way, his expression back to his vacant mask before a smile reappeared.

"I wanted you to feel welcomed," he supplied as he approached the cabinet he was eyeing before, dedicating himself to searching for whatever kind of flavor of tea he had in mind. 

In response, you just shrugged your shoulders with another chuckle. 

"And I didn't get you anything. You're making me feel even more out of place."

"Nonsense," he cut you off in that deadpan way of his, hands rummaging through the most ridiculously vast tea collection you had ever seen. And then he added, decidedly quieter, "today is supposed to be about you, after all."

Too bad you didn't pick up on it. 

When he ushered you back to the salon with barely a wave next, pointing at one of the cushions arranged around the short-legged table, you decided to follow his suggestion and wait there while he finished brewing the drinks. By now, you understood the futility of offering any kind of help when he was still so intent on properly welcoming you. 

So, curious as you were, your eyes continued to inspect each and every inch of the apartment, drinking up all the pieces of info you could observe, that you didn't even think of the potential dangers of letting a stranger fix you a cup while you weren't looking.

Unbeknownst to the other, you were both actively counting down the seconds until the Purge started, minds lost to your own inner turmoils from opposite sides of the suite. 

And for entirely different reasons, you were both filled with anticipation.    

。。。。。

   Meanwhile, finally back in the present after retracing the steps that guided you there, it was becoming increasingly hard to compartmentalize the chaos brewing inside you.

Shouto’s lips were the personification of hunger against yours, an inescapable gluttony to mark and consume every single inch of you he could encompass. 

After a hint of understanding returned to your body post-orgasm, your vision and the sensations you endured were becoming disturbingly vivid. It was impossible to conceive anything beyond his hands ridding you of your flimsy camisole, palms cold in comparison to the heat you felt, splaying against your sides and slowly making their way up the sensitive mounds of your chest.

“All mine, baby.” You barely registered his teeth nipping at your bottom lip until a shock of pain snapped you out of your trance.

He bit you, and quite harshly too, but when you tried to instinctually pull back his response was to hold you even tighter. Before you could attempt to voice your complaints, his tongue was darting out to clean up the droplets of blood he spilled. 

“Out of all the Darlings I’ve played with, you’re the only one I’ve ever even considered keeping, you know?”

And now that had you freezing, even amidst the cloud of desire still muddling your cognizance. His arms pressed you closer still, forcing you to bury your face against his chest, completely unphased by the bloody mess your mouth had morphed into.  

Had he tricked others before then? Was that the reason why he was even on the Forums in the first place? 

You wanted to ask him what he meant, wanted to demand explanations for a phrase that had dread closing around your neck like a noose. But whatever he slipped into your drink to keep you so awfully responsive and pliable, also appeared to make forming any complex sentences incredibly hard…

Shou, ever the receptive one, caught onto your change in demeanor rather aptly. His face nuzzled your hair softly, humming a calming melody as if you were a scared child who could be so easily reassured. Meanwhile, his hands hadn’t abandoned your breasts, still tenderly kneading them with a touch bordering on worship.

“But I’m glad you weren’t my first, baby. Means I could be all ready for when we met.” He rocked you both as he rested his back further on the sofa, opening his legs wider below you and forcing you to settle closer to his clothed groin with a whimper. 

Your arms reached out to grasp his shoulders while you tried to stabilize yourself, the strain of his erection resting snuggly against your still sensitive slit. 

"Helped me to know when to pull back," he kept confessing, purposefully thrusting into you while he kept lovingly massaging your chest, fingers twisting your hardened peaks to coax a new kind of mewl to be uttered against his skin. "Wouldn't want you to break now that I've finally found you."

The fact that your bodies seemed to fit so perfectly, even in your impaired state, was not an irony lost on you. 

Abruptly, Shouto stopped fondling your breasts in order to maneuver your face again, both of your stares meeting in a vehement standoff before he continued. 

“I’ll make this as close to perfection as I can, I promise you.” And you got a direct view of the vulnerability in his uniquely colored eyes, the nature of his words clearly heartfelt despite the atrocities they alluded to. 

As you heard him drag his zipper down, the hand clutching your jaw trembling in anticipation, you couldn’t help the new wave of warmth spreading through your body, negating all the fear and anxiousness warring inside you in order to shamefully expose your baser desires.

Now that whatever had been clouding your  judgment was pulling back slightly, your thought process had begun to snap back into place, overflowing you with a terrible sense of shame at your own reactions.

He gave you something earlier with your drink, you were sure of it, and yet you couldn’t help but still be horrified at just how much you were enjoying it. Once you felt the flushed head of his cock placidly rubbing against your thigh, the sounds leaving your mouth weren’t ones of complaint, peril or dissent.

Quite the contrary, actually, and it only made Shouto grow bolder.

As the hand clutching your face grew tenser, gripping you with force before tugging harshly, you got the hint. Now painfully following his lead, it wasn't long before the previous pressure against your legs was now resting directly against your cunt. 

The pre-cum already gathered on him mixed in with your still oozing arousal, smearing the span of your outer lips as he lightly teased you one last time. 

You were so mortified by that point, that if he had offered to end your embarrassment right then and there with one of the several weapons you knew he kept, you would’ve been very inclined to accept. 

“... I didn’t even think there was such a thing as 'The One' before, actually.” You hadn’t even realized the man was still talking, ardent whispers getting lost on the intensity of the situation. 

His eyes were searching your face, a satisfied twinkle lighting them up as soon as you returned his stare of your very own volition. Perturbed, you wondered if his delusion made him see anything beyond a twisted mix of lust and fear reflected back at him. 

“But I now know just how wrong I was, Y/N.” So sure of himself, tone back to the stern cadence you previously associated with him for a moment, gripped by a gravity befitting of his obsession. “Indeed, I think you were always meant to be my darling… don't you agree?”

To your credit, you did struggle to speak up, to gain back the control over a body which had stopped listening long ago. Too bad you only managed a single pitiful word out.

“Shouto…”

But before you could even fathom attempting a better response, he was breaching into you, sheathing himself with an ease you wished you could overlook, turning your voice from an anguished plea into outrageously labored moans. 

You had once thought Shou had been interested in you because he somehow perceived you as anything but pathetic, but you were beginning to think it had been your weakness which drew him in all along. 

So deliciously frail, that even a predator like him had been driven with an urgent need to protect you. To break you down, just so he could be the one to build you back together.

As he started fucking you with shallow thrusts, hips bucking up from the sofa while he tenderly guided you until your body was mimicked his motion on its own, you couldn’t help but be the most disturbed at his oddly affectionate ways. 

As awful as it sounded, now that your mind had awakened from its stupor all you wanted was for him to bend you over and abuse you, manhandle you and mistreat you in a way which unequivocally screamed assault. You wanted bruises painting your skin, proof that you hadn’t just willingly given up and facilitated your own ruin. 

He was humiliating you despite the pretty words he decided to disguise it as—showing you how easily he could own you and even make you enjoy it, drug-addled drink or not. 

But as his mouth latched around one of your hardened nipples, sucking generously until his name was once again fast on your tongue, you also couldn’t deny the crystal clear responses you were giving.

You could attempt to lie to yourself later, could swear it was all a delusion born out of the deranged man's mind, but the particular brand of your screams was unmistakable.

When your own hand reached down to facilitate your release, you knew you were already acting beyond what you could've previously attributed to the drugs. Toying with your bundle of nerves, you rested your forehead against Shouto's shoulders, tears from the pleasure mixing in with the subjacent agony of your guilt. 

Why did it have to feel so good? And how far did the drugs truly affect you? Or had they just peeled back your inhibitions perhaps, baring you until all you had were dark desires and no self-control to contain them. 

You still tasted blood inside your mouth when your walls started clenching around his cock, the coppery flavor entirely too vivid on your tongue. Hearing his own choked groans gasping against your chest, you felt his mouth abandoning your bud with a pop before his kisses were trailing a path back up—eager in their search of your face, your lips. 

You were still cumming by the time a lascivious kiss connected you two again, unwinding in his grasp until his hands were the only thing keeping you whole. 

“Even if I wasn't taught how,” he began promising while his rhythm grew frantic, barely resisting the allure of your core fluttering around him. “I promise I’ll love you, Y/N. Love you so good, you won’t ever want to leave when the next Purge comes.” He was getting increasingly excited by his own words, imagining a future where you did not need the aid of a little cup of tea to eagerly kiss back. “I’ll fuck you every day, fill you up and show you just how much I care. How much you matter.”

Faced with his degenerate promises, all you could do was gasp out his name one last time, perhaps seeking to express your reticence, perhaps oddly excited by the image he was painting. 

You indulged him in the pitiful sound of your whimpers molding around its syllables, and it wasn’t long before you were coaxing him to join you with an orgasm of his own.

He actually came inside, you recognized inwardly after the aftershocks of enjoyment now quieted down to a lull, a new type of dread quickly following the realization. His cum was still shooting in hot ropes, stuffing you to the brim with the intent and purpose of a man bent on marking you, owning you.

But Shouto was so loving as he kissed you time and time again, painfully reminding you of just how nice he could be for you, how gentle and attentive. It made the lines between your tormentor and a traditional lover blur even further, the confusion clouding your sense not merely born out of narcotics any longer. 

You had been so preoccupied with a monster outside your house once. A creature ripped from the kind of movies that were ripe with cheap scares and considerably cheaper thrills. 

But monsters never were like that in real life, were they? As the man continued to cradle you in his arms like the most vulnerable of creatures, you were suddenly struck by how glaringly obvious things should’ve been from the beginning. 

Because your Yandere’s obsession had not come with claws and a row of sharp teeth. No, it came instead with a suit of deception to hug its frame, the bait of acceptance, and the promise of a reliable ear to comfortably listen. It arrived with whispers that assured you that you were not alone, that it was not you who was flawed, but the world for not welcoming you. 

It dangled everything your little heart desired, so by the time you were reaching out, you were simply too distracted to notice the dangers of the abyss you were throwing yourself at.

Luckily for you, Shouto had made such a void his home. And for however long it took you to consider the darkness as your own, his was a kind of hospitality that no amount of your struggles could ever hope to wear down. 

And if the worst came to pass, if you kept stubbornly refusing and fighting despite your odds? Well…

   He could always brew you another cup of tea.

-------

Well, I can finally rest now 💀

This monster of a one-shot took me a lot longer than expected, so I ended up being a lil later to the collab that I would’ve liked. Either way, I’d really appreciate hearing any feedback or opinions on either the fic or art (or both?)... I swear that’s what keeps me motivated ;___; 

So fr, thanks to everyone who takes the time to let me know your takes! y’all are the bests of the best 🖤 And speaking of bests of best, special thanks and gratitude to the actual angels who helped and gave me feedback for both the art and/or fic @reinawritesbnha , @drxwsyni​, @wootato, @snappysnapo and @coyambition. Don’t catch me seeing y’all drop your crowns bc it’s on sight  😠 👑

[justyouraverageotaku]

The Sins Learning How to Drive + What Kind of Driver They Are

Request by: @tounge-twist-nezushi

Meliodas

Learning how to drive:

🐉He's really excited to learn how to drive and is actually really calm when it's being explained to him. 🐉

🐉Of course he's kind of nervous but he knows if he tries to remain calm it will turn out better. 🐉

🐉Has a headache from focusing so hard the first few times he drives. 🐉

🐉Passes his drivers test first time. 🐉

Type of driver:

🐉He's the one who's constantly making sure the perfect song is on. 🐉

🐉Can and will sing. 🐉

Diane

Learning how to drive:

🐍Pays close attention to whoever is explaining things. 🐍

🐍Got really good at parallel parking surprisingly fast and really didn't have to worry about it that much. 🐍

🐍Found driving relaxing and really didn't panic much. 🐍

Type of driver:

🐍Honestly depends on the kind of day. 🐍

🐍If she had a good day she'll be relaxed and hum along to music. 🐍

🐍If she had a bad day be prepared for road rage on the same level as Ban. 🐍

🐍Will stop at McDonalds. 🐍

Ban

Learning how to drive:

🦊Wants to drive really fast the first time he gets in the car. 🦊

🦊Literally not even worried about his driving when he's learning because he's convinced he can do it well. 🦊

🦊Had to take a lesson on safe driving. 🦊

Type of driver:

🦊REFUSES to drive drunk. 🦊

🦊Way safer driver than he was before. 🦊

🦊ROAD RAGE. 🦊

🦊NICE BLINKER YOU DUMB@$$! 🦊

🦊Can and will flick someone off out the window. 🦊

King

Learning how to drive:

🐻Nervous. 🐻

🐻Tried to pay attention but so worried they had to repeat it. 🐻

🐻Failed his driver test the first time due to nerves. 🐻

Type of driver:

🐻A very safe driver. 🐻

🐻Never rages, just the rare annoyed sigh when someone does something. 🐻

🐻Sins designated driver. 🐻

Gowther

Learning how to drive:

🐐Has read multiple books on driving before and already guessed the basics. (Still had to learn a lot tho.)🐐

🐐Read his teachers mind to make things easier.🐐

🐐Passed his test with ease. 🐐

Type of driver:

🐐Constantly checks on his passengers. 🐐

🐐"Do you want the heater turned up or are you comfortable?" 🐐

🐐 Always seems to be giving someone else a ride somewhere. 🐐

Merlin

Learning to drive:

🐗Another one who read about it. 🐗

🐗Her teacher didn't really need to tell her much she kinda just seemed to know. 🐗

🐗Was secretly driving when she was 13.🐗

Type of driver:

🐗Just kinda vibes. 🐗

🐗Road rages internally on occasion. 🐗

🐗Really clean car. 🐗

🐗Kinda quiet when driving. 🐗

Escanor

Learning how to drive:

Night:

🦁Was kinda scared of driving. 🦁

🦁More anxious than King. 🦁

🦁Constantly double checking with teacher on things. 🦁

Day:

🦁Convinced he knows what he is doing, doesn't know what he's doing. 🦁

🦁"You should be proud you get to teach someone like me how to drive." 🦁

Type of driver:

🦁Daytime rages, nighttime gets anxious if someone cuts him off. 🦁

🦁Be it day or night he has classical music on the radio. 🦁

🦁2nd cleanest car in the group. 🦁

[imagine-loki]

My Sweet Rose, Chapter 1

TITLE: My Sweet Rose CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 1 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you are secretly a little but no one knows, one day you decide to check out a local BDSM club to try and get a feel of the community. You meet a handsome stranger that, over the next few months, shows you all about the lifestyle. However, one day… he vanishes without a word. 

RATING: M NOTES: Daddy/little dynamic & Flashbacks will be in Bold.

I’m not sure how long this story will be, I’m thinking no more than 5 chapters though. But I saw the imagine and omg I love it, had to do something with it. Haven’t written anymore of it yet but just HAD to share the first chapter so far, oops! lol. 

-

Rosie had been working and living in the Avengers tower for a week now, it was going really well. And it was helping to keep her mind occupied, getting her back on her feet after such a rough year.

She was a PA for Stark, and the other Avengers if they needed anything too. It was helping her cousin, Pepper out a lot. As Stark was very demanding nowadays and the others were becoming that way too.

It was also good for Rosie. She’d had a really tough year. She met someone a few years ago in a BDSM club, it had been her first time there after spending months building up the courage to go. She was a little, and had been wanting to find someone that she could feel safe with to explore that side of her.

She met a man, who was charming and handsome. Kind, funny. They fell in love, or so she thought anyway. He was the perfect Daddy Dom for her, teaching her everything and looking after her. She adored and loved him so much. Which is why when one day he just vanished, it was all the harder for her.

He just never returned after saying he had to go home to visit his family, who lived in Iceland apparently. But he did that regularly and always returned to her. But not that time. To say she was heartbroken when there was not even a call or a text from him explaining why was an understatement.

His name was Loki. And it became clear what happened a few months later after his disappearance, she saw him on the news. Loki, the God Of Mischief, was trying to take over the world. She couldn’t believe it and thought she was dreaming when she realised it had was her Loki. He looked different in the heavy armour, he looked scary.

But she thought no wonder he left her, he was a God and a Prince after all. What would he have wanted with her in the first place anyway?

She had tried a couple of times to date someone else, but never made it past the first date. As they just… weren’t him. No matter how often she tried to just forget about him. It was difficult.

She’d fallen into a downward spiral, not even able to go to work. So she had lost her job and was on benefits for a while. She became really anxious and nervous.

But here, in the tower, she was trying to turn herself around again. It had been one man, even if he had been her first true love, in her heart anyway. She knew she would heal, in time. Even if it had been over a year.

Rosie had been so engrossed in sorting out some paperwork for Tony that she never noticed the newcomer coming into the kitchen. She barely even registered Thor introducing her to him. ‘This is Rosie, our PA, she’s new here.’

Not until she heard an all too familiar voice responding that sent shivers down her spine and sent her heart racing.

‘Rosie… My sweet Rose?’

There was only one person who had ever called her that.

Slowly she looked up, eyes widening, standing before her was Loki.

‘Oh my sweet Rose, you’ve done Daddy so proud.’ Loki purred gently as he cradled her in his lap.

She felt so safe and secure, curled up against him as he wrapped a blanket around her naked body. Knowing how cold she always got after they’d played together quite so intensely.

Loki rocked her back and fore softly as he ran his fingers through her hair, soothing her. She was trembling a bit after her orgasms, Loki had pushed her almost past her limit, but he knew. He always knew when to stop at the right time.

He was an intense Daddy, and could be really strict at times. But he was fair and ever so kind. He had his goofy moments and was extremely playful too, which she loved. He was never angry with her, always calm and collected. Even when she misbehaved, not that that happened often.

She clung to his shirt so tightly, never wanting to let go. Loki had to carefully remove her hand from his shirt just so he could change them into a different position, getting them both under the blanket so he could have her snuggled up next to him. He knew she would fall asleep soon.

‘Daddy.’ She whispered quietly, sounding so vulnerable.

‘Yes, my little one?’ Loki asked, engulfing her small hand in his large one.

‘Can you sing to me?’

Loki smiled. ‘Of course, my sweetling.’

He began singing to her in Asgardian, but he had told her before it was Icelandic. She had no reason not to believe him, especially since he told her he’d grown up there with his parents.

But he had a beautiful voice, she always loved to hear him sing.

She felt so loved as he she drifted off to sleep to the sound of his voice. She faintly remembered a gentle kiss on her forehead just before she fell asleep.

Thor was confused at their interaction, especially as Rosie said nothing at first. Just stared at Loki in utter disbelief.

‘No…’ She shook her head and took a step backwards. ‘You… You don’t get to call me that anymore.’ She said quietly, her voice trembling as tears came to her eyes.

‘Rosie? What’s wrong, did he hurt you?’ Clint asked upon seeing the reaction.

Rosie grabbed the pile of paperwork off the table beside her and she ran off out of the kitchen, with tears falling down her face.

Clint turned to Loki. ‘You’ve got some explaining to do.’ He snapped at him.

‘I have nothing to explain to you, Hawk.’ Loki snarled.

Natasha and Pepper saw Rosie running out of the kitchen in floods of tears, they ran after her into her room. Natasha managed to grab the door before it closed on them.

‘Rosie? Rosie, what’s wrong?’ They both asked as they rushed in to her.

Rosie threw the papers on her bed and she started pacing back and fore, shaking and crying with her arms wrapped around herself. Pepper grabbed her and pulled her down to sit on the bed.

‘Rosie, please speak to us.’ She pleaded with her cousin as Natasha sat at the other side of her.

‘It… It’s him…’ She sobbed.

‘Who? Loki? Did he scare you? I told him not to be an asshole to anyone.’ Natasha said angrily.

‘He… He’s the one. Who I dated before.’ She blurted out, making Pepper and Natasha go silent in shock.

‘But… how?’ Pepper asked.

‘I met him one night in a club. And we dated for eleven months. I was in love with him, utterly and completely. I thought he was with me too. But then he just vanished and never came back one day. Then a few months later, I saw him on the TV… I didn’t tell anyone it was him, because I thought no one would believe me anyway. And what did it matter? It wouldn’t change anything.’ Rosie blurted out between crying.

‘Oh, Rosie. I wish you had told me.’ Pepper pulled her into a hug and cradled her head against her. ‘It’s ok, shhh, shhh. It’s going to be ok.’

Natasha rubbed her back softly. ‘If we had known, we would have warned you he was coming here. I’m so sorry.’

Rosie shook her head and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. ‘No… It’s my fault, I should have told you. I just… it’s a shock to see him face to face.’

Natasha and Pepper nodded in understanding.

They stayed with her for a little while, then when she told them she was ok and was going to take a shower before bed, they left her to it.

But it ended up being the longest shower ever. She kept thinking about Loki and what they had together before.

Kept thinking of when they first met…

Rosie was super nervous when she walked into the BDSM club. But after months of talking herself into it, she finally had the courage to do it.

She didn’t dare tell any of her friends what she was into or what she was doing, perhaps foolish in a way as no one knew where she was. And she was on her own. But she was too embarrassed to tell anyone. Her friends wouldn’t understand.

She relaxed a tiny bit once she was there, noticing other people on their own as well. Getting a few drinks down her helped with her nerves too.

Some of the people she spoke to briefly were really nice. She met a lovely couple at the bar who asked if it was her first time there. They told her if she needed anything to feel free to ask them, not to be shy. That everyone there was really nice and friendly.

There were various demos on that she watched, there was a lot more to some scenes than met the eye. It really made her realise how on sites such as Fetlife and others, it was easy to get sucked into the wanna-be-Dom’s who likely had no idea what they were doing. Or how much safety came into it all.

‘Excuse me, I don’t mean to bother you but I was wondering if you’d like to join me for a drink?’ A beautiful voice came from beside her when one of the demos on aftercare just finished.

Rosie turned and her breath was taken from her as she gazed up at an incredibly tall and handsome man.

‘I… I… Yeah, I would like that, thank you.’ Rosie stammered out, nodding over enthusiastically.

He grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth as he put his hand out towards her. ‘My name is Loki.’ He introduced.

‘I’m Rosie.’ She smiled up at him and put her hand into his. That’s when she noticed his gorgeous hands, so big and he had such long fingers. She blushed hard when he raised her hand up and he kissed the back of it, making her skin tingle like crazy.

‘Pleasure to meet you, Rosie.’ He said charmingly.

Loki gave her his arm and led her over to a free table near the bar. She was really nervous, and Loki could tell. But he soon had her at ease, just chatting away to her calmly and making her laugh almost straight away. She slowly began to relax in his presence.

‘Is this your first time here?’ He asked after buying them both another drink.

‘Is it that obvious?’ She cringed, making him chuckle.

‘Kind of. You did look a bit like a deer in the headlights. But that’s normal for first timers.’ Loki winked at her.

‘So, I’m guessing that means you’ve been here before?’

‘It does.’ He nodded. ‘Not often, it’s probably my fourth visit. Mainly just trying to meet new people, meet anyone that may potentially be interested in a Daddy Dom.’

Rosie’s eyes widened and she suddenly fell shy again as she looked down at her glass and swallowed hard. Loki raised an eyebrow, instantly realising that she was a little. He suspected she was a sub, but hadn’t been sure about the little aspect or not.

Loki leaned forward over the table towards her a little more. ‘Let me take a quick stab in the dark here… But I am presuming that you are a little?’

Her mouth opened and closed again. Then she just opted for nodding in response instead of trusting her voice to actually work.

Loki smiled softly. ‘Nothing to be shy about, sweetheart. That’s why lots of people come to these clubs, to meet their person.’

‘I… I guess so.’ She agreed.

They continued to talk for over an hour, not much about BDSM which Rosie found quite pleasant. He didn’t seem to want to jump straight in so quickly, which in turn made her trust him more and relax.

At the end of the night, Loki handed over a small card with his number on it. ‘There’s absolutely no pressure at all. But I’ve really enjoyed my night with you, Rosie. I would love to take you out on a date, perhaps out for lunch Saturday? But there’s no pressure, I don’t need an answer right now. Just text or call me to let me know. But if I don’t hear from you, that’s ok too. I totally understand.’

Rosie’s heart was racing. Could he get any more considerate? He wasn’t pressuring her at all, not asking for her number. Not even expecting her to contact him if she didn’t want to go on a date with him. Not even needing an answer straight away, what a gentleman.

Loki walked her outside the club and hailed a taxi for her, he even paid in advance for her, not taking no for an answer.

‘I just want to make sure I know you’ll get home safely. And I can’t help it, it’s the protective Daddy in me.’ He shrugged and chuckled, making her giggle shyly.

‘Thank you, Loki.’ She smiled widely at him as she got into the taxi and he closed the door for her once she was in.

He waved her off and she couldn’t stop smiling the whole way home.

Of course, she did text him the following morning to say she would love nothing more than to go on a date with him on Saturday. If that was still what he wanted, too.

Loki replied within a minute, with a time and a place for their first date.

-

‘How DARE you!’ Pepper roared at Loki and launched for him, slapping him across the face. It barely made him flinch, but he clenched his jaw as he glared at her.

Everyone was surprised at Pepper’s outburst.

‘Woah, what did he do?’ Bruce asked.

‘HE is the one that broke my cousin’s heart. She was head over heels in love with you, asshole. Then you just disappeared on her, left her alone without even an explanation. No note, nothing.’ She snarled at him.

Loki narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but I did what was right. To protect her. She was better off without me.’

‘You did NOT do what was right. You have no idea what you’ve put her through this past year, how heartbroken she was. Still is!’ Pepper screeched.

Loki faltered. ‘Still is? Did she not find another, she’s a beautiful, incredible woman. How could she not find ano’

‘You are such a fucking idiot!’ Pepper screeched angrily and so wanted to slap him again, but she knew it was pointless.

The guys around him all put their face into their hands.

‘What?’ Loki asked, looking around.

‘That’s a low blow, man. Not even leaving her a note.’ Said Tony.

‘I… I thought I was doing the right thing.’ Loki said, looking at Thor.

Thor nodded. ‘I did not realise that your Rose was this Rosie… But yes, Loki thought he was doing right by her. He was in love with her, adored her. Never shut up about her. But when he discovered his true heritage on a short visit home, he decided not to go back to her. In fear of hurting her.’ Thor explained.

Pepper ran her hands down her face.

‘Well, you failed on that. You probably hurt her more by not at least saying you were over. You have no idea what she’s been through this last year.’ Pepper shook her head in disgust at Loki.

The team all murmured between them and left the room, leaving Loki with Thor.

For the first time in a long time, Thor saw his real brother back. He saw true emotion on his face again, sorrow and guilt.

‘I… I did not mean to hurt her.’ Loki said, still a bit confused. ‘I loved her, Thor… I do love her. I never stopped thinking about her, never loved another.’ He whispered.

Thor sighed and walked over to him, patting his shoulder. ‘I know, brother. I know.’

Loki thought back to the first time she had called him Daddy. How much it made his heart happy that she trusted and wanted him so much…

Rosie and Loki were snuggling on the sofa together, watching some cartoons that she loved. Loki wasn’t overly fond of them, but it made her happy so he always obliged. He was just happy to have her on his lap, comfortable and relaxed in his arms. Where she belonged.

He was lightly stroking her back underneath her top, making her skin tingle. She was in utter heaven, and Loki couldn’t get enough of just simply touching her. He needed touch in some way, whether he was just holding her hand or had the tips of his fingers on her skin, he needed and craved the intimacy with her.

Loki’s fingers trailed a bit too far to her side and up a little, making her squirm and giggle.

‘Daddy, that tickles!’ She laughed and tried to grab his hand to stop him.

But he had already stopped, freezing at what she said. That was the first time she had called him that, even in little space.

The biggest smile spread across his face and he buried his face into her hair and squeezed her tightly to him.

‘Sorry, my sweet little one. I forgot how ticklish you are.’ He purred.

[eliemo]

Solitary

Summary: Logan wakes up. He wasn't supposed to this time.

TWs: aftermath of a suicide attempt, implied/referenced self harm, self hatred and self esteem issues, hopeful ending

Notes: Mind the tags pls, I wrote this with no plan at like 1am. Platonic LAMP

When Logan woke up, the first thing he registered was a splitting headache, white hot pain spreading down his head to his spine like his skull was being snapped in two.

The next was the pulsing agony in both of his arms, shooting up to his shoulders with a sudden intensity that made him gasp before he could stop himself, only to be met with another stabbing pain in his throat.

“Hey hey hey, easy.” A vaguely familiar voice filtered in from somewhere nearby, but Logan was pretty sure the pain would only worsen if he opened his eyes to look. “Easy, Lo. You’re safe, you’re ok.”

All Logan was able to manage was an awful sounding croak. He felt someone running their hand gently through his hair, another holding the side of his face.

“Breathe, kiddo. You’re ok.”

Patton. A bit of the rising alarm faded when he recognized the moral side’s voice, but something still pulled at his chest when he realized how scared Pat sounded. What was going on?

“Can you open your eyes?” Patton asked, soft and concerned right beside his ear. “We really miss you, Logan.”

Patton’s voice broke a bit at the end, miserable and pleading, and that was enough for Logan to risk pain that came with the sudden light, making another weak noise in the back of his throat as he pried his eyes open, surprised and a little frustrated over how much effort it took.

Like he’d warily expected, the barrage of light did feel like someone was repeatedly taking a knife to his eyes, but it wasn't nearly as intense as he’d anticipated.

It took a second for everything to come into focus, but when it did Logan could make out that he was on the couch in the living room, a dark blue blanket draped over him, the curtains closed over the windows to keep the sunlight out of the dim room.

Patton was crouched beside him, fingers still running through Logan’s hair, slow and gentle. Virgil was perched on the other end of the couch, eyeshadow smeared and staining his face with dried black tears.

Roman was standing beside the armchair just a few paces away, looking like he’d just been startled out of his seat, face pale, eyes wide and shiny.

They all looked...awful. They looked about as bad as Logan felt right now.

“Wh-what?” It hurt to talk, voice raspy and shaking, but the confusion was only making his head hurt more. “What’s happening, I—”

“I’ll, uh- I’ll get him some water,” Roman said hastily, failing to hide the worried glance he sent Patton’s way. “Hang in there, Teach.”

Roman was gone before Logan could say anything, and his gaze wandered instead to Virgil who was still planted by his feet, shifting anxiously where he sat, glancing between Logan and Patton like he was waiting for someone to speak.

Luckily Roman wasn’t gone for long, hurrying back into the room within seconds and practically thrusting a glass of water in Logan’s face.

He moved to sit up and take it, only to hiss at the pain shooting up his arms at the tiniest of movements, falling limply back onto the cushions.

“Don’t use your hands, honey,” Patton said, a second too late. “Here, let me help you, ok?”

Any other time Logan would have protested. He was perfectly capable of drinking a cup of water by himself. But right now all he had the energy to do was give a tiny nod and let Patton help him to sit up.

He didn’t have the energy to fight, keeping his aching arms under the blanket and letting Patton bring the cup to his lips. The cold water eased the pain in his throat somewhat, even if it took a frustratingly long time for Logan to swallow a few sips.

“There you go,” Patton said when he saw done, and Logan hated how overly gentle the other side was being with him. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine,” Logan said, despite how badly everything hurt. “What...happened?”

He saw the three of them exchange worried glances among themselves, trying and failing once again to hide it from Logan. His head was still too heavy to remember what had put him in this position in the first place, but their concern was only worsening his rising anxiety. Or maybe he was just picking up on some of Virgil’s distress.

The anxious side shifted again, brows drawn together as he looked Logan over. “Do you not...remember what happened?”

Logan took a moment, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing against the lump in his throat, taking a moment to catalogue his aching body, his headache, and the searing pain shooting up his arms.

“Was I...injured?”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Patton immediately burst into tears. To his dismay, Roman and Virgil’s eyes started welling up at the same time.

Oh, god. Logan was even less prepared to deal with their emotions than he usually was.

“Is that…” he trailed off, swallowed, and tried again. “Is that a yes?”

Patton only began crying harder, and before Logan could try to apologize the moral side was throwing himself forward, arms wrapped around Logan as best he could, sobbing loudly into his chest.

“Patton, I—”

“I’m so sorry!” Patton wailed, only further growing Logan’s confusion. “I’m so sorry Lo, I’m so sorry! We didn’t- we didn’t know! I swear we had no idea!”

“Let him take a moment to wake up, Padre,” Roman said, still hovering anxiously. He and Virgil were being much quieter about their distress, but both of their faces were soaked with tears. “But we...we really are sorry. Gosh, Logan we’re so so sorry.”

Logan screwed his eyes shut again, still coming up blank when he tried to connect the dots. “What...what on earth are you apologizing for?”

“For not realizing you felt that way, Lo.” Virgil moved to put a hand on Logan’s leg, refusing to look the logical side in the eyes. “Jeez- you’re family and we never...we never noticed.”

Patton was still bawling into his shirt, Virgil tightened his own hold, Roman began pacing as he tended to do when he was stressed, and Logan still had absolutely no clue what was going on. Why wouldn’t someone just tell him what had happened?

“Patton...” Logan stopped, first from the pain that came with raising his hand to touch Patton’s shoulder, then from the shock of seeing his arms. “I—”

“Don’t look, baby,” Patton said, gently guiding his hands back under the blanket like Logan hadn’t gotten a clear view of blood stained bandages wrapped around his arms from his wrists to his elbows. “You’re ok.”

His arms were...had he...?

Roman cleared his throat, and Logan looked over at the sound. The Prince held a wrinkled piece of paper in his hand, crumpled and a little stained, and the writing Logan could just barely make out was suddenly alarmingly familiar.

“We, uhm. We found your note.”

And just like that it all came rushing back- the overwhelming pain, the emotions, everything spiraling out of his usually so strict control as he finally let everything out onto a flimsy piece of notebook paper.

He’d lost control, no longer able to see a better way out. All he’d been focused on was the horrible pain in his arms soaked with blood that signified an ending he hadn’t even been sure he really wanted.

It came back in a fragmented blur, and Logan abruptly remembered that he wasn’t supposed to have woken up.

Oh. Oh no.

“I am...so sorry,” Logan said, at a loss for what else to do. “It was never my intention for you all to—”

“Your intention was pretty fucking clear,” Virgil snapped, and Logan was taken aback by the hostility in Anxiety’s voice. “Jesus Christ, Lo! What were you thinking?”

“Virgil,” Patton snapped, but the wavering in his voice overshadowed any vehemence. “That’s...let’s calm down, kiddo. Ok?”

Virgil wiped his eyes with his sleeves, shoulders hunched as he crossed his arms and stared at the ground. Logan’s chest squeezed, guilt and panic overwhelming.

“How long was I...asleep?”

Patton gave a shaky sigh, going back to running his hands through Logan’s hair. “Since last night. It’s...I think three in the afternoon now.”

Logan’s stomach dropped, and the pain in his arms flared up again as he struggled to sit up, only to fall limp against the back of the couch. He’d been out all day, forcing the other sides to stop what they were doing and look after him.

He couldn’t imagine how much damage and stress he’d caused. The one thing he’d been trying to avoid doing any more of.

“I’m very sorry,” Logan said, forcing his voice to remain steady. “My intentions were not to be an inconvenience or cause any unnecessary stress. I will attempt to get back on schedule as soon as possible and—”

“Get back on schedule?”

Logan couldn’t remember hearing Virgil yell like this, shrinking back into Patton’s arms before he could stop himself, the anxious side having stood up from the couch, eyes wide and brimming with new tears.

Logan cleared his throat, struggling to speak with his heart hammering in his chest. “I...apologize for—”

“You think we’re upset over the schedule?” Virgil snapped, flinching when Roman moved closer to put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve been sitting here for hours waiting for you to wake up after you tried to kill yourself and you think we’re upset because we’re behind schedule? Are you fucking serious, Logan?”

The screaming eventually dissolved into ragged sobs, and Logan watched as Roman gathered Virgil up his arms and pulled him close, the anxious side burying his face into the Prince’s chest.

Roman hadn’t stopped silently crying, silent tears sliding down his cheeks as he pressed his nose to Virgil’s hair, trembling with the strength it took to hold back his sobs. And Patton hadn’t let go of him, half of Logan’s shirt soaked with the moral side’s tears.

He hadn’t...expected this. Any of it.

Honestly, Logan hadn’t expected anyone to even notice his absence at first. He supposed they might not have known he’d...passed at all if he hadn’t been found before he’d finished.

He'd expected them to be mildly agitated when they found out he was gone, a little annoyed that he’d taken such drastic measures instead of continuing to ignore it and move on for Thomas’s sake. They'd have to make their schedules themselves now, and his death would likely push a few things back.

Things might be a bit less efficient without him but...they’d realize it was for the best eventually. They would be happier without him around. The air would be lighter.

It would be quieter. They wouldn’t have to constantly hide their annoyance every time he opened his mouth.

They wouldn’t have to deal with him at all anymore.

He hadn’t...expected anyone to be upset over the thought of losing him. He hadn’t even succeeded, he was perfectly fine, and every single one of them was in very clear distress.

“I am...very sorry,” he tried again, wondering if all he’d managed to do was ruin things irreparably. “I never wanted to upset any of you.”

“It isn’t about us,” Patton said, reaching over to quickly squeeze Virgil’s hand. “It’s not about our feelings. It’s about yours.”

“No, Virgil is right. It was selfish of me to—”

“It wasn’t selfish,” Virgil said quickly. He pulled away from Roman, just enough to look at Logan. “It’s not...it wasn’t selfish, Lo. It wasn’t your fault.”

Logan frowned, because that...was an exceptionally strange thing to say. Especially when he had every right to scream until his voice was hoarse. “Of course it was. I did it to myself. I was fully aware of what I was doing.”

That made Patton tighten his hold and Virgil’s gaze drop to the floor, but Logan didn’t falter. It was the truth. He wasn’t going to make excuses or pretend to be ashamed. He’d been convinced it was the right thing to do.

Roman suddenly sighed, trembling and quiet, the only one able to meet Logan’s eyes. “Sometimes our brains tell us things, Lo. They aren’t true and they’re awful but it’s...hard not to listen. You just need some help quieting the thoughts.”

“My thoughts are...perfectly rational,” Logan said, despite the situation. “I was simply mistaken. I thought I was doing what was best.”

“You thought we hated you!” Patton was crying again, sobbing with nothing holding him back, and Logan suddenly couldn’t bring himself to look at the note left on the coffee table. “You thought...Lo, the things you said—”

“I was wrong,” Logan said curtly, even as a prickle of dread settled in his stomach. “I was...I was wrong, wasn’t I?”

He was a bit taken aback by how quickly the three of them burst into affirmations, all of them suddenly crowded around him, holding him close as gently as possible. Keeping him safe.

“We love you,” Virgil was saying, and the anxious side had somehow managed to half commandeer his lap, his arms wrapped around his Logan’s middle. “I love you, Logan, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not...your fault,” Logan said, wishing his arms didn't hurt quite so bad. He couldn’t even attempt to hug anyone back. “I shouldn’t—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Roman spoke up, placing a gentle but grounding hand on Logan’s back. “I know it feels like you did, Teach. I know. But you didn’t.”

“I tried to...I- I thought—”

“You’re in a bad place and we didn’t notice,” Virgil said, barely audible from where his face was pressed into Logan’s shirt. “That’s our fault. We- I should have been there to help, I didn’t know you—”

“I was attempting to hide it.” Hiding it had become normal. He’d hoped it would all simply go away, or fade away to the background at the very least if he just pretended.

But it had only grown worse, leaving him feeling empty and numb and hurt each time he was ignored and talked over, each time an argument went a little too far, each time he felt like a burden for simply speaking his mind. For having a thought in the first place.

He’d thought they hated him. He thought they hated the sound of his voice, his presence in their lives, his existence. A bitter part of him had wondered if they’d celebrate his death before erasing him from their memories entirely.

He hadn’t been able to say it aloud. But he’d finally been able to sit down and put it all on paper, finalizing it into one last goodbye.

Logan has been stupid. Logic had failed, and he’d done something irrational.

If he couldn’t even do his job well enough to keep himself alive, what even was the point in keeping him around? Thomas might be better off without him after all—

“Logan.” Patton was right in front of him now, warm hands on Logan’s cheeks, effectively cutting off his spiraling thoughts. “We’re here now. We’re here and we know.”

Logan curled his shoulders and nodded, the thought equally comforting and terrifying. He’d never planned on having to face the consequences of this decision. Of his awful, irrational feelings.

“We’re gonna help you kiddo,” Patton continued. “You’re not alone, Logan. You never ever have been. I’m so sorry you thought you were.”

Logan swallowed, alarmed at how tight his throat was becoming, vision quickly becoming blurred. “I...I don’t want to cause any pointless stress. We’re all busy.”

“We’re worried about you,” Patton said softly, never letting go of Logan. “You worry about the people you love. You worry about family.”

“I...” he paused, closing his eyes as the tears finally spilled over. “I wasn’t...sure that I was.”

Virgil lifted his head and frowned, but Logan refused to look down at him, staring blankly at the wall instead. “You weren’t...what? Family?”

Logan didn’t respond, didn’t jump to correct the assumption because he...couldn’t. He’d questioned his place for so long, somewhere along the way he’d begun assuming nobody cared. That it wasn’t a question for anyone else.

The heartbroken noises from the other three sides made him flinch, and he melted into their touch as they rushed to assure him once again, hard as it was to focus on anything they were saying.

He’d been so stupid. How could he have mistaken this for anything but love?

“You’re family, Logan,” Roman said, holding him from behind with his head now rested on Logan’s shoulder. “You will always be family. I’m so sorry it got this bad.”

Logan wasn’t sure when he’d started letting himself cry in earnest, but now that he’d started he couldn’t stop.

There were three pairs of arms around him, holding him close while he trembled and sobbed and tried to force out apologies that kept getting caught in his throat.

He’d been selfish, and he’d upset them all so much but…

But he’d been so hurt. He’d felt so hurt for months and none of them had noticed. Nobody had asked. He wasn’t angry, he knew they would never have left him like that if they could have known. But it didn’t change the fact that it had happened.

But it was...going to be better now. Logan wanted so badly to believe it was going to get better.

“We’re going to fix this,” Patton said, and Logan’s eyes slipped shut when the moral side once again began playing with his hair. “We’re gonna be right here, Lo. We’ve got you. It won’t ever get this bad again.”

Logan felt himself drifting back to sleep, the pain fading to a dull ache in the background, and he didn’t try to fight against it. His chest was still heavy, mind clouded with distorted thoughts and doubts, and he knew none of that would disappear the next time he woke up. He wasn’t naive enough to hope it would.

But he had a way to fix it now. A way that wasn’t quite so final as his original plan.

And his family would be there when he woke up. He didn’t have to do this by himself anymore. He didn’t have to be the only one trying to fix this.

Logan believed them. He wouldn’t have to do it alone. Never again.

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 12: Lost

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[masterlist] [kia’s slambook]

warnings: mentions of sex

You and Kia prepare for your trip, waiting for Akaashi. He mentioned about picking you up since Bokuto lent him his car. You remember about the card Sakusa told you about.

You go to his room, making sure you don’t touch anything, and see that there are two bedside tables. You checked the one on the left first. You open the drawers and see boxes of condoms, some opened, some still new. You close it and go to the other table to get the card.

Something in you says to go check the other drawer again, but it would make you feel guilty. You hear Akaashi’s car honk so you go out instead. You take Kia from the couch and leave the house.

‘Did he date someone in the last 3 years?’ The thought is bothering you and Akaashi notices. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply, smiling. He carries Kia and puts  Kia in the safety seat of the car. He returns to the driver’s seat while you sit on the shotgun seat.

You continue to think about what you saw. You broke up. So what if he had a girlfriend? You have no right to dig in your nose into his business. Why are you so upset about him having sex with other women? He’s a grown man. He has his needs.

“You’re spacing out,” Akaashi points out. You shake the thoughts off your mind and stare out of the window. You groan, the thoughts coming back in again. “Spill it.” So you do. You tell him about what you saw. “Why are you so upset? So what if he had sex with someone? You broke up with him, remember?”

“Exactly why I’m bothered!” You cover your face with your hands in frustration.

“If you’re so bothered, why don’t you ask him about it later?” Akaashi suggests, his eyes on the road. You sigh, nodding.

You three arrive at the theme park and suddenly you feel at ease to be outside again. Kia starts running, but luckily, Akaashi has long legs. He easily keeps up with her. You make your way to the booth, while Akaashi carries Kia around to look at some figurines by the entrance.

After you successfully retrieve your reservation tickets, you enter the theme park. Despite being a weekday, it’s still packed with tourists. There are also students in uniforms, probably in a school trip.

“Mama! Look! Robot!” Kia points to the Bumblee Bee statue. Akaashi puts her down and she runs to the statue. The figure starts speaking and Kia’s mouth hangs wide open in amazement. “It talks! Mama! Keikei! It talks!”

You continue to walk around the theme park, stopping on shops and stalls from time to time. While Akaashi excuses himself to go the toilet, you see an ice cream food stall and Kia immediately asks you to buy some for her. You take her to the stall and carry her so she can choose a flavor.

“That would be 600 yen,” the shopkeeper tells you. You put Kia down to take money out of your wallet. You pay for the ice cream. The employee gives you the treat and when you look down, Kia isn’t by your side anymore. “Kia?”

You go around the stall, in hopes that Kia just took a look somewhere near. You search and search but you don’t see any sign of your daughter. Akaashi comes back and sees you getting antsy.

“Where’s Kia?”

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“Take a good rest, boys. We’ll be back to practice next week. Enjoy your free time because we won’t be having any left after this. Cool down and you may leave,” the MSBY Black Jackals coach announces. The players thank him and say their good byes.

“Training ended earlier than I thought,” Atsumu sighs in relief. “I’m so excited to go home and be in the comfort of my bed.”

“Wanna go to the gym together this Saturday, Bokuto-san?” Hinata asks the older player as they start stretching.

“If I don’t have anything to do,” Bokuto replies.

“Isn’t Akaashi in town?” Sakusa speaks, stretching his wrists. Bokuto’s attention gets stuck on the other spiker’s wrists and he forgets to respond. “Hey.”

“Oh, yeah. Akaashi is in town. How’d you know?” Bokuto eyes the curly haired man in suspicion.

“(Y/N) told me. They’re in Universal today,” Sakusa explains.

“Omi, you’re okay with Kia going to crowded places that is surely full of other people’s germs?” The blonde questions, stretching his legs.

“Do you really think I expect her to grow up like me?” Sakusa rolls his eyes, stretching his back this time. “Germs can be washed away. They can get disinfected. It’s nothing compared to Kia’s upbringing. I don’t have plans to raise her to be clean, I want her to grow up to be someone who she wants to be.”

Atsumu smiles because of his teammate’s response. Not long ago, he would think of Kia as some sort of hindrance, but now he seems happy that she’s around. The blonde also noticed how Sakusa is gradually becoming more soft with his words and actions.

They finish stretching and go back to their dorms. Sakusa is packing his things when he suddenly feels anxious. He can’t think straight. He feels something bad is about to come. He opens his door and check the hallway. “Miya’s not here. If it’s not him, what could it be?”

Sakusa goes back into his room, hearing his phone ring. He sees Kia’s contact name and answers quickly.

“What is it Kia?”

“Kyo... I lost mama,” Kia cries on the other line.

That tone. That way she said it. The feel. It’s too similar with your words 3 years ago.

“Omi... Let’s break up.”

“What? Where are you right now?” Kiyoomi runs out of the dorms. Adrenaline kicking in as he hears Kia’s sobs.

“Why? Let’s talk about it. I’m coming over.”

“I see a dinosaur,” Kia responds, worry and panic in her voice.

“I just don’t see a future for us, Omi.”

“Don’t end the call, okay?” Kiyoomi says softly despite his worries. He hears Kia crying again. He starts his car and connects his phone to the bluetooth of his car. “Hey, stop crying. I’m on my way. Just stay wherever you are.” He doesn’t get respond so he speeds up his driving. “Kia? Baby?”

“Is it something I did? Tell me! Don’t just ignore me, (Y/N).”

“Okay. I’ll wait for you.”

“I’m sorry, Sakusa. But I can’t do this anymore.”

Kiyoomi’s sports car has never been put into good use until now. He arrives in the theme park in top speed record. Luckily, there isn’t a queue on the booths so he gets a ticket promptly.

“Kia?” He puts his phone close to his ear, looking at the theme’s park map. “Are you still near the dinosaurs?”

“You’re joking, right? Tell me this is a prank.”

“Yes. Kia stayed here like you told me,” Kia responds, already calmed down. Kiyoomi rushes to the Jurassic Park area and looks for her in every corner. But Kia couldn’t explain her exact location well. He spots a kid and calls him.

“No. This isn’t a joke.”

“Have you seen this child?” He shows the back of his phone to the boy. The boy nods.

“Yes. She’s sitting near the entrance of the restaurant,” the boy answers. Before Kiyoomi could thank him, the boy recognizes him. “Aren’t you Sakusa Kiyoomi? I’m a big fan of your team!”

“Ah, thanks. Come to my next game, okay? I’ll give you a jersey.” Kiyoomi leaves him and goes to where the kid directed.

Kiyoomi spots her and his steps become bigger and his pace becomes faster. Kia sees him so she climbs down of the bench she is sitting on and runs to meet Kiyoomi halfway. He takes her into his arms, tightly hugging her. He feels her wrap her arms around him, and his heart starts breaking into pieces.

“(Y/N), I know you’re still in there. Whatever it is, let’s work it out,” Kiyoomi shouted from outside of your apartment’s door. He’s been sitting there for hours now. He leaned his back on your door, his knees close to his chest.

Did you really leave?

Were you not coming back?

There are a lot of words he had yet to tell you. He wanted to see you two accomplish your dreams together. He wanted to wake up and the first thing he sees is your face. He wanted to come home and receive your hugs as soon as he steps into the door. He wanted to see you walk down the aisle. He wanted to grow old with you. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. You were all he wanted.

He regretted not hugging you tighter. He regretted not kissing you more. He regretted not spending a lot with you. If only he could do all those things one more time.

“I love you...” He cried. You always said those three words first. Why weren’t you responding?

He’s too late.

He had already lost you.

"Kyo, why are you crying?” Kia asks him, her small hands on his cheeks. She starts tearing up, sad that he’s crying. He doesn’t even know he’s crying. His thoughts is too full of fear and anxiety.

There are still a lot of lessons about life he wants to teach Kia. He wants to see her accomplish her dreams. He wants to drop her off to school. He wants to receive her hugs as he comes home from practice. He wants to see her fall in love with someone who loves her just as much as she does. He wants to see Kia grow. He wants her to see him as her father for the rest of her life.

He regrets not hugging her tight enough. He regrets not kissing her good morning and good night. He regrets not spending time with her. He regrets not being there from the start.

What if he was too late?

What if he didn’t answer her call?

What if he lost her?

“Kyo? Are you mad?” Kia’s lower lip is quivering, tears already coming out of her eyes.

“Kia..” he calls her. She pulls away from his hand and looks at him.

“Yes?” Kia’s voice is shaky. She’s afraid he’ll scold her. She promised to be a good girl. What if he hates her?

Kiyoomi takes a look at her face. He caresses her cheek with his thumb, then plants a kiss on her forehead.  ‘But I’m not too late this time. So I’ll make sure I won’t regret anything. I will never lose the two of you again.’

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

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Facts:

Most dinosaurs were vegetarian

Many dinosaurs had feathers

The longest dinosaur name is Micropachycephalosaurus

Small carnivore dinosaurs are most likely to be the smartest type of dinosaurs

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Taglist:  @elianetsantana aoi-turtle ptv-hades  aquzairus a-applepi  justoneofthefangirls arianna-r13 morenabambinii chaelysian loser-keiji mxngy ne-kuroo n1fangirlsblog d-efend missalicebaskerville marvelousbakugou @agaashesmilktea​ bonkyandloki kimi09  ntimacy @mkazuyuh  ushi-please minty-mangos-world @dearest-kiyoomi

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 3

Death!Din and Cupid F!Reader

Summary: You and Din have an unexpected heart-to-heart about what it means to be Death and a Cupid on route to a planet where Din’s potential soulmate lives.

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,500

Warnings: Pining, smidge of angst, more plot development, Razor Crest (RIP I miss you darling!), a made-up home world for the reader (yes, yes, there’s like a million I could have picked but my brain said NOPE)

Author Note: Ahhhh, the comments are so amazing from you all! Thank you everyone out there sparing time to check out my little universe, it makes me sooo happy you have no idea! As always, I hope you enjoy this new segment as I try to plot this story out and get these two idiots to acknowledge there just might be something between them. 

Also special thanks to @codenamewitcher​​ for including the first two parts on Weekly Fanfic Recs. Be sure to go check out the list for a whole bunch of fantastic stories!

Links to Part 1, Part 2 and Part 4

Photo Inspiration: (What I imagine is beneath the armor in this scene...*dreamy sigh*)

There is a distinct silence that can only be found in hyperspace when the stars outside resemble sparkling streaks of silver tinsel and your breath is trapped within your lungs as you’re awestruck by the sheer beauty of it all. You experience this silence aboard the Razor Crest, sitting in the cockpit behind Din as he pilots his beloved gunship. It isn’t the first time you’ve been a passenger, having traveled with Din on two previous ventures where your Cupid services were required on planets far away from your home on Umbriel.

Off-world assignments for you were generally rare since your bosses were more inclined to choose Cupids of higher ranking to handle those clients, but sometimes you were the only available option left. Which, come to think of it, is exactly how you became the one roped into meeting with Death every full moon. Your bosses decided someone needed to check up on him to make sure he wasn’t reaping anyone before their fated time and thus messing with the natural order of things. You privately have reached the conclusion it was a decision made during a fit of paranoia as you had yet to find any evidence suggesting Din ever broke a single one of the universe’s rules, let alone even considered the mere possibility.

When you did travel for assignments, you never stopped feeling like a goldfish being dumped out of your familiar little bowl and into a massive ocean full of strange oddities. You would often find yourself wasting time trying to successfully navigate the unknown world when you should have been focused on tracking down your client’s soulmate.

That’s why Din had offered to start traveling with you. Actually, in his own words it was because, “You think about love so much you don’t see trouble until it’s an inch in front of you. Someone’s got to be there to look after you.”

You’d tried to argue, told him you had never experienced trouble and that if you did then you could handle it with your bow. All Cupid’s were required to master archery for self-defense purposes, though Din’s responding snort of derision made you suspect he wasn’t convinced of your skills. You wondered if he thought, just as humans incorrectly did, a Cupid only used their bow to spread love and lust. Or maybe he just thought you weren’t capable of such finesse. It was an insulting assumption, fueling you with the burning desire to prove him wrong. One day, you keep telling yourself, a repetitive chant. One day you’ll show him just how capable you are with your weapon and you imagine his look of shock, whether worn openly on his face or hidden beneath the visor of his helmet, will be utterly priceless.

But in the meantime, you’re in no hurry to encounter trouble. Finding enjoyment in taking these trips with him on his ship instead.

The Razor Crest had actually been a complete surprise to you when Din first welcomed you on it; primarily because the notion of him using such a primitive form of transportation despite the powers he possessed as Death was too outrageous to wrap your head around. However, it took less than ten minutes soaring through space for you to discover just how many details of the universe you were missing by relying on your Cupid abilities to teleport yourself between locations. Never would you have imagined Death to be the one to teach you to love the slowness of travel, to let your eyes linger on all the beautiful wonders along the way. But that’s exactly what happened.

You turn your head away from the window to look at Din. From your angle, all you glimpse is the back of his helmet, reflecting the passing starlight. Soon you’ll be introducing Din to the first immortal on your list of potential soulmates.

Death, you quickly correct yourself. He’s only Din when he’s around you.

You initially thought he elected to wear his armor because you told him he could to ease his comfort, but now you think it’s because this is him meeting his potential soulmate as himself. It is easy to forget sometimes this is the image of Death—a warrior enshrouded in beskar, cunning and ruthless—that is recognized throughout the universe. And feared.

If the handsome face he concealed was known instead, you wonder if mortals would readily choose to embrace the ending of their lifetime, rather than foolishly seek to run from its inevitability.

“What is it?” Din’s baritone voice startles you as it shatters the quietness. The modulator within his helmet gives his tone a low raspiness that never fails to send a chill down your spine when you hear it.

“Huh?” You respond ineloquently.

“You’ve been staring at the back of my head for the last five minutes, angel. I figured you had something worth saying.”

“Oh, no. I was just thinking about you.”

Immediately you wish a meteor would collide with the ship, providing you with the necessary distraction to escape and find somewhere you can hide until the end of time.

“...What about me were you thinking?” Din wonders after a solid thirty seconds of pure silence, voice somehow conveying an equally blended mixture of intrigue and wariness. He flips on the ship’s autopilot and turns in his seat to pin you with his gaze, apparently unwilling to let you try and weasel yourself out of the conversation.

You roll the question around in your mind, wanting to give an answer that satisfies him without it also embarrassing yourself further.

“I was thinking how much of an enigma you are,” you murmur at last, leaning back in the chair with your arms crossing over your stomach. “You wield such incredible powers and yet you choose to wear a human face, to call this man-made ship your home and to also spend your spare time living amongst those you will eventually reap. Why are these your choices?”

He tilts his head, and you just know there is a little crease of bewilderment appearing between his eyebrows right now even if you can’t see it. For as much as he is a puzzle you can’t put together, he is also at times an open book that you will never tire of reading.

“I would think you, more than most beings, would understand the discomfort that stems from loneliness and the lengths one will go to ease it,” he says, not unkindly. He mirrors your position, maneuvering himself until he’s comfortable in his seat and totally oblivious to the dilating of your pupils as you observe every subtle shift of his armor-clad body. “Isn’t that the true purpose of Cupids? To spare individuals the ache of living a life of solitude by introducing them to someone to love so they no longer feel it.”

“That’s a poetic way of putting it,” you answer, smiling softly and shrugging your shoulders. “My superiors would just quote our mantra back at me when I used to ask. Amor vincit omnia.”

“Love conquers all.”

You shouldn’t be surprised he’s able to translate such an ancient and obscure language, but your eyes widen regardless. “That’s right.”

His voice is unusually soft when he asks, “Do you like being a Cupid?”

You stare at him, caught off guard by how easily he’s changed the topic of the conversation from himself to you. You’re used to taking orders and being thanked for your services, but no one has ever asked you if you liked doing any of it.

“I’m good at it,” you finally say, even though it’s not really an answer.

He nods his head still, as if he understands. A part of you thinks he actually does.

You lick your lips, eyeing him hesitantly. “Do you...like being Death?”

“I’m good at it,” he echoes, but your words sound somber coming from his lips.

The cockpit fills with hushed silence again, but there’s a unique tenderness unlike ever before. Minutes seem to stretch on for entire seasons as you watch one another, content to simply coexist and revel in each other’s presences.

It would be so easy to slip off his helmet and kiss him right now.

You stiffen, stunned at your own thought, but you aren’t given the chance to analyze it further as an alarm on the ship’s control panel announces with a resounding beep you’ve reached your destination.

Din spins in his seat, reclaiming control of the steering to begin the ship’s landing process. You look out the front window at the large green-blue planet drawing nearer with every anxious tick of your heartbeat.

“We’re here,” you say needlessly, forcing excitement into your voice. Fake it till you make it, isn’t that the human expression?

“Who is it we’re meeting on this backwater skug hole?” Din asks, pressing a series of buttons above his head.

You kick the back of his seat. “Be nice,” you scold when he shoots you a look. He mutters something unintelligible under his breath as he turns back around, prompting you to roll your eyes. “She’s a goddess of springtime and motherhood. The locals call her Omera.”

Tag List: @leilei-draws​, @theocatkov​, @becauseican2, @vintagesaph​, @stardust-and-starlight​, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @adrieunor​, @remmyswritings​, @gallowsjoker​, @rhiannon-russo​, @randomness501​, @eleine-t1d​, @nicotinebirds, @sylphene​, @softly-sad​, @maytheglitter​, @melobee​

[summonerscenarios]

So, mc adopting at least one of each of the Child mobs, how would that go?

IT MAY BE 4AM BUT THAT'S NEVER STOPPED ME BEFORE LETS DO SOME MF HCS.

Sadly I was only able to work on two of the mob kiddos as I didn't want this to get too long but I still hope its okay~!

Also just a heads up a lot of this is a pure waffle of information based on my own interpretations of the mobs so here's hoping I did a good job with them lmao.

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It wouldn’t have been the first time you’d ended up inadvertently adopting someone, nor will it be the last knowing your luck. It’s not like you intentionally do anything to draw people to you, it just so happened that the things that you did and situations you got wrapped up in led to you getting to know all kinds of people in the process. And those people saw you in all kinds of ways - most saw you as friends, others saw someone else in you, more than a few made no attempts to hide their blatant flirting - and, rarely, a few would even see you as a role model,a mentor or parental figure to look up to.

You honestly have no idea why, after all, it’s not as though you go out of your way to make particularly responsible decisions (if anything, you get yourself in enough trouble that you’d imagine you’re anything but a role model) but a lot of the younger transients and students seem to flock towards your presence, looking for comfort, advice, or just someone who respects them. At first it was just the younger members of your guild that you technically took under your wing - as the Guildmaster you assumed it was only natural to look out for them, and you’d long gotten used to protecting Agyo and Kijimuna, wanting to make sure that the only thing they had to worry about was having the chance to be kids rather than getting dragged into the Guild’s app-based affairs. It’s not like responsible parental figures are easy to come by in this world of app-battles and fighting, so that’s perhaps why when you start taking a more protective, nurturing role with the younger ones that more of them begin popping up.

Surprisingly, the ghosts are some of the first mob children that you noticed began flocking towards you. Roaming spirits are unusual but certainly not rare, and it honestly breaks your heart a little to see so many young ghosts lingering around in the unexplored corners of the city, searching for one thing or another. Things feel...off, for a while before you can pin down the issue - you start feeling as though you’re being watched when you’re in the guildhouse by someone other than your teammates, and when your attempts to shake off the uneasy feeling doesn’t work, you decide to bring it up to your fellow Guild members in case it’s someone trying to spy. You want to make sure it’s not someone who can bring danger to the guild, but you don’t have much of a chance to set up a search of the building when the D-evils come tottering into your field of view, screeching up a storm and motioning towards an otherwise unassuming corner of the window.

Turns out you weren’t the only one noticing the other presence, as Shiro’s D-evils seem to have picked up on it to - and when your attention snaps over to the window to see what they’re pointing to you barely catch a glimpse of the flickering figure of a ghost child as they disappear from view. From that point on you start spotting the child more often - he’s shy or wary, always lingering someone just out of the corner of your eye but never getting any closer almost like he’s afraid. He seems to have taken an interest in you though, especially whenever the younger guild members come around to spend time at the guild, and it isn’t long before you notice that he’s intently watching the way you watch over and care for the kids of the guild - he looks almost sad in these instances, but never dares to get any closer and disappears as soon as you turn to look at him. Over time it becomes almost normal to have a resident ghost at the guild (though Agyo still shudders at the mention of ghosts despite having seen the kid plenty of times since arriving). He seems to be more at ease after a while of watching you, and things finally come to a head one day when you’re playing videogames with Hanuman and the other kids, noticing that the little ghost has wandered far closer than he’d ever done in the past, watching the small screen setup on the floor with an avid interest that seems far happier than the forlorn looks he’d had before. Taking a chance you tilt your head to look over at the ghost child, motioning him to come over and join; he disappears for a moment, startled, but right as you start to worry you may have scared the kid off he rematerializes, inching hesitantly closer and closer till he’s hovering beside the rest of your group, eyes fixed to the characters on screen with a child-like wonder.

You aren’t quite sure how this ended up with you adopting the ghost child yourself. It’s just one day you were talking about how you were pretty much adopted by the teachers at school and how you’d like to pay it forward some day, and the next you were talking about ‘son’ this, and ‘might as well take the kid under your wing’ that - you were practically acting like an impromptu parent for like a fifth of the people you knew anyway, so what was actually adopting a child? Toji had just about choked to death when you’d made the unfortunate decision to announce that fact mid-drink, and Shiro spent more than his fair share of time probing you with the legal questions surrounding a student adopting a child, ghost transient or not. Ryota seems incredibly excited by the idea however, gushing about being an uncle and wondering if your new son can eat and if so what his favorite food is - plenty of questions for a later time.

Ghost is certainly the most clingy of the children you end up adopting, and it’s clear from the get go in the sense that the poor little one is essentially glued to your side from the moment you take the venture to actually adopting him. With few things remaining in the physical world to cling onto, the familial bond is something that the little one cherishes and he absolutely refuses to budge on letting it, and by proxy, you, go. For a while he actually fears you’re going to leave him and take back what you said about protecting him and being a good parent. He of course had parents once, and their lack of presence at his side now paints a tragic picture no matter what way you look at it, so the kids got more than a few attachment issues you need to work through. Ghost doesn’t really talk too much, instead relying on gestures and interacting with things around him to talk to you and others - it takes a little bit to get used to if you’re unfamiliar with some of the gestures but it’s easy to pick up as time goes on.

Definitely one of the more well behaved children of the bunch, given that once you’ve convinced him that you’re not abandoning him he’s dead set on making you proud. He gets antsy when you’re not around, spending most of his time at the guild when you're at classes, but he takes to following Agyo around instead during these times. Agyo’s more than a little startled at first, and is a bit awkward about the whole situation as he processes it, but before long Agyo’s not only getting along with your ghostly son, but he’s also teaching him the ‘lion dog duties’ that he’s been teaching you - you’ll never quite forget walking in to Agyo giving the poor kid a detailed rundown on the upkeep of the guildhouse and all that it pertains.

It was supposed to only be the one child, you swear, but damn if you haven’t got a bleeding heart and a knack for attracting trouble. Word travels around fast about your adoption, and as more people learn about your impromptu push to parenthood people start coming to you for help - namely, kids with nowhere else to go. Maybe it’s your bleeding heart or savior complex, but before long one kid becomes two, and then two becomes three, and soon enough you’ve got four kids on your hands.

There’s no denying that things get a little bit rocky when you start taking in other children. Despite the other kids in the guild, Ghost has technically been the only child up to this point, and with your attention shifting from both him and the other children at once it’s a sudden change - one that you thankfully discussed with him first to make sure he was okay. Even with the okay though, Ghost is more than a little anxious when you bring the second child, a nether sprite, ‘home’, especially because of how loud she is by comparison. Nether sprite is an absolute ball of energy and mischievous to boot, so she more than makes for an interesting parallel to the otherwise quiet Ghost you’ve been taking care of the past few months.

She’s a handful, especially during the first few weeks that she’s settling in - it takes her a while to really start seeing the place as home, and even longer for her to even consider you a parental figure (she’s seen you as more of a babysitter till you proved you were willing to stick around and put the effort in to be a good parent). Once she does settle in however she takes to the place quickly, and, to your surprise, your two kids become thick as thieves. The Nether sprite catches on quickly to how Ghost communicates, and given his penchant to linger around those he’s close to and follow them around she’s more than happy to drag him all over the shop from one activity to another - it’s a surprising development but one you actively encourage. Unfortunately as I mentioned she’s still mischievous, though tones it down from anything too troublesome if it’ll cause you too much grief.

However that hasn’t stopped the amount of times you’ve gotten calls from someone about the kind of trouble you two little ones have wound up getting themselves into - looks like they both picked up your knack for getting intentionally and unintentionally dragged into the weirdest events (sure, it’s fun when you do it, but having your kids doing it only serves to give you grey hairs from the stress.) And things only get crazier once the other kids end up coming along, for both better and worse - but that’s a story for another time.

[infinitebells]

the act (s. moran)

sebastian moran doesn’t know how to love. incessant pressure from his father to “do better” erased any kind of bond he could have formed with him. his platoon was murdered in front of his eyes, and when he woke up the realization that he was dead too wiped away any chance at love.

sebastian moran prides himself on his ability to bed women (and men if he so chooses) at the snap of a finger. taunts and mocks come at the expense of his actions, but why should he care? he’s always been the butt of the joke while working with the moriarty family. it’s not like they’re going out and picking up people left and right. they don’t have the ability to do so. the colonel claims it’s a god given gift, but fred knows better than to buy into the defense mechanism that is moran’s sexual habits.

sebastian moran doesn’t care for anyone. sure, he’ll give his life to keep william alive, but that’s simply out of pure obligation. he’s well aware that his own like is expendable. why should he spend time trying to convince himself otherwise?

sebastian moran is a defensive, brash, sexual man who does not need anyone to stay alive. that is, until he meets you.

•••

when he first sees you, it’s across the street in town. you’re arguing with a vendor, claiming the fruit you’re trying to purchase is much too expensive for the meager salary of a maid working for some self-centered noble. it’s not like the vendor will cave on their price, but you hope they’ll remember the interaction for the next time someone can’t buy any of their produce. you’re two seconds from walking away until a tall (very handsome) man slides next to you, paying for the fruit in full. he offers you a cocky smirk, but you know better than to buy into the fact that some strange man is buying the entirety of your produce just for the hell of it.

meanwhile, the colonel is trying his very hardest to not blush like a maniac. because in reality, the suave act that he puts on for the men and women swooning over him in bars and sleazy alleyways is just that. an act. so when he realizes you’re absolutely nothing like the people he puts the act on for, he’s stumped. he’s intrigued by your soft eyes, the slight downward curve of your lips as you frown at him, and the way your fingers fiddle with the thin gold chain hanging delicately off your neck.

“there’s no need for such a beautiful person to frown and mar their face. i’m simply being polite,” he’s well aware his comment strikes a bone in you, but he’s thoroughly surprised at your remark.

“i’m beautiful regardless of the face i’m making. only some people can truly appreciate such beauty,” you say with confidence, straightening your back and staring up at him (you’re just now made aware of how tall he is). his smirk fades into a childlike grin, and you come to appreciate how he almost looks like a young boy smiling widely in a candy shop. but you know better. the hard lines of his face and the small scar peaking out from beneath his buttoned shirt indicate that the man’s mind is far older than you realized. his dark eyes reflect pure joy at your challenge, but you can still detect the faint traces of panic. you’re confused as to why such a confident looking man would experience panic when talking to you. you won’t know why he’s panicked around you until much later.

“i suppose you’ll have to teach me how to appreciate your beauty then,” he hopes he maintains the same confident tone he spoke with before, but with the way you’re looking at him he’s positive you see right through him.

“you can only see true beauty once you’ve seen it in yourself. i’d suggest dropping the act, it makes it much easier to appreciate yourself if you’re true to who you are,” you finish, turning away from him and walking away. the vendor looks between you and moran, but moran’s eyes focus solely on you. he’s sure that the next time he sees you he’ll fall even farther than he already has.

•••

the second time he sees you, you’re picking up a brand new tailored suit for the nobleman you work for. you’re very clearly tired, the bags under your eyes a dark purple, but sebastian moran is still in awe of your raw beauty. he doesn’t even try to put up his usual front when he walks in line next to you, head turned down.

“if you’re having trouble with such a heavy bag, i could help you carry it,” he tries hard to keep the bubbling feeling of bashfulness out of his voice, but your small giggles prove that you’ve already detected it. when you look up at him, eyes shining with amusement and mouth wide in a breathtaking smile, he thanks every deity in existence for bringing you to him.

“i see you’ve learned to at least drop your act around me. i’m impressed, i didn’t know men like you could learn to do it so quickly,” you admit, turning back to the heavy package in your hands. at that, his face turns down into a confused frown.

“what do you mean men like me?” he’s curious, wanting to know how you see him.

“men who so clearly put up a charming front in order to seduce others when in reality it’s simply a defense mechanism to hide their insecurities,” you say it as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. sebastian on the other hand takes a moment to process your words before scoffing indignantly.

“and what do you think i’m insecure about?” he glares down at you, trying to keep the anger in his voice. it’s difficult for him to do so when you look up at him with pure mischief in your eyes.

“that would probably be a third date kind of conversation. how about we start with date number one tonight at the bar near the vendor we first met at. 8 o’clock sharp,” you say it with ease, and he’s taken aback by your brazen words.

“but i’ve never been on a date,” he blurts out without thinking, looking down as his cheeks flush a pale red. sure, he’s met people at bars, but it never escalated past the one night they shared between sheets. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart beat a little faster at his obvious embarrassment.

“i’m sure you’ll do just fine colonel moran. i look forward to tonight!” you call out, turning left at the intersection. it takes him a second to register that you just said his name, and he never said it to you in the first place, much less his military rank.

“how do you know who i am?” his voice is loud enough to catch the attention of a few noble women who giggle and stare at him. he pays no attention to them. he only watches you as you turn around to smile coyly at him.

“you’re not the only one with connections,” you say before disappearing into the crowd. it’s a simple sentence, but the implication has his head spinning dangerously fast. he’s ecstatic to see you again.

•••

the third time he sees you, it’s not at the bar. it’s in the basement of your nobleman’s house, where he had you locked up five days ago. your clothing is practically ripped to shreds, blood seeping out of angry red cuts on your arms and legs. you almost look more dead than the noble upstairs. the only tell tale sign that you’re still alive is the shallow rise of your chest with every labored breath. you barely stir when he carefully cradles you in his arms, rushing you out of the house and back to the manor.

when louis opens the door to find a frantic moran and a near-dead maid in his arms, he lets him by without a word. he knows better than to question the colonel when he looks as panicked as he did. louis helps him bandage you up without a word, washing away dried blood and cleaning old wounds as moran carefully wraps bandages around the bigger cuts. william, fred, and albert return back to the mansion all together, watching moran in awe.

“colonel, who is this?” william finally speaks up as the two men finish bandaging up your still unconscious form.

“a maid for that dead noble,” his answer is short, curt. he doesn’t speak again as he carries you bridal style out of the kitchen and into his bedroom, letting you rest. he’ll explain everything once you’re awake, but for now, he’s content with watching you sleep. as fred stares quietly from the doorway, he’s well aware that sebastian moran has never cared for anyone in his life. but with you, there’s clearly an exception.

•••

he sees you everyday after that, keeping a silent tally in his head. he’d never admit that to you though, knowing he’d never hear the end of it.

he learned your name the day you woke up, your raspy voice still ringing clearly in his head. the first time he heard your name, he had to stop a blush from spreading across his face. a beautiful name for a beautiful person.

“so colonel, are we ever going to make up that bar date? i was really looking forward to it you know,” your soft voice pulls him out of his head, staring at you from across the couch. you’re wearing his jacket, claiming it was cold in the house since winter was coming. you both knew that was a lie, that william always had measures in place to keep the house warm. yet, neither of you said a word about it.

“you want our first date to be in a bar? why can’t i take you out on a proper date?” his question is genuine, and the exasperated look on his face makes it very evident. but you couldn’t care less.

“yes i would like it to be in a bar. i’m sure that’s where you put your act on the most. it would make sense that that’s where you start to drop it as well,” you say nonchalantly. the sentence is loaded, and he can see the piercing gaze you send his way as you speak. the knot in his throat grows, and for the first time in years, sebastian moran feels nervous. downright anxious.

“no pressure colonel, i can see the cogs in your head spinning wildly. i just want to see who you really are, not the panty dropper the other maids used to fantasize about while working,” you can’t help but giggle at your own words, and the silliness of it all forces a laugh out of moran. you’ve never seen him laugh before, but it’s the most beautiful sight in the world.

•••

the seventh time he sees you, you’re dressed in nicer clothes than usual, a glass of whiskey in your hand as you giggle over another story moran’s told you that night. both of you are breathless, laughing over the story about how one time albert tried sneaking a girl into the manor, but everyone was awake and awkwardly watched as he escorted her into his bedroom. the bar incites lively conversation, patrons bumping into you two as you stand at the wooden countertop.

“i thought albert was a gentleman!” you can’t get the sentence out without giggling once more, leaning forward a bit.

“apparently he’s not as much of a gentleman as we thought he was,” moran responds, a bright smile painting his face. he looks absolutely gorgeous like this, cheeks flushed and smile so wide you could fit a coat hanger in his mouth. once your laughter dies down, both of you sigh, taking sips from your respective drinks. you’re the first one to break the silence, smiling warmly at the colonel.

“i think i could come to like this more accurate version of you colonel,” you say with sincerity. his smile grows impossibly wider at that, a heavier blush accompanying it.

“excuse me mr. moran? i was wondering if maybe you’d like to join me upstairs?” a high pitched, almost whiney voice sounds to the left of you. a woman, probably a few years older than you, bats her eyelashes seductively at the colonel. his blush fades instantly, and his smile turns sharper. you watch as his eyes glaze over with their usual cockiness, turning to face her and whispering what you can only assume are sweet nothings in her ear.

“i think i’ll be taking my leave, i seem to only be interrupting something here,” you say dryly, setting your glass down on the bar and walking away from the pair. you can feel moran’s eyes on you, but it doesn’t matter as you push your way through the crowd. the doors fly open with the force of your push, and it catches the attention of almost everyone in the bar. not that you care. all that matters is getting away from the sight of the shell of sebastian moran and the woman who was so clearly was eye fucking him right in front of you. you don’t realize your hands are shaking until you feel a larger pair envelope your own and they stop trembling. moran’s eyes are wide, trained on you. you’re positive if you look up they’ll simply take your breath away.

“why’d you leave so suddenly?” his voice is steady, but you know better. you were always terrible at reading people up until you met sebastian moran.

“i’d rather not be abandoned in a bar while you went off with some woman, so i figured i’d save myself the trouble and just leave,” you keep your voice even, eyes still on the ground. that is until his fingers lift your chin up to meet his face, and you come face to face with the softest smile you’ve ever seen on his face. it should be illegal the way he’s looking at you.

“i was telling her i was on a date with you, and that she should think twice before coming up to a man who’s clearly with someone else,” he says softly, fingers still on your chin. embarrassment washes over you as you tug your hands out of his grasp and bury your face in them. he chuckles from in front of you, and before you process what’s going on, your world is tilted sideways. the yelp that escapes you is completely involuntary, and when you open your eyes you realize you’re in sebastian moran’s arms, and he’s carrying you back towards the manor.

“why are you carrying me?” your hands wring together, desperately trying to calm yourself down before you pass out from sheer shock and humiliation.

“i heard jealousy makes people do irrational things, so i figured i’d just take you home before you could do any damage,” he speaks with confidence, but it’s not an act this time. and the teasing smirk he shoots you is genuine. so you bury your head in his chest, hands fisting his jacket.

“i’m not jealous,” you speak boldly, but it sounds muffled in his jacket.

“sure you aren’t princess, sure you aren’t,” his laughs are deep, and you whine in protest, the alcohol warming your senses.

“shut up,” you grumble, and you’re only met with more laughs.

“make me sweetheart,” his voice is right next to your ear now, breath tickling you. so you do.

the seventh time he sees you, you kiss him for the first time. you grab him by surprise, hands removing themselves from his jacket to hold his face close to yours as you push your lips onto his. your eyes are squeezed shut, and your face burns with shame as you pull away. it takes all of your self control to not kiss him again with the way he’s gazing down at you, eyes wide, lips slightly swollen from the force of your kiss, and face painted a pretty pink. you bury your face back into his chest, hands finding purchase in his jacket once again.

“keep walking,” your voice is quiet, almost scared to break the silence. moran doesn’t trust his voice at the moment, so he quietly walks back to the manor, grip on your body tightening marginally. the only thing that runs through his head is how soft your lips were against his, and how warm your hands were on his face. he prays to every god that he’ll have the chance to kiss you again.

•••

the fifteenth time he sees you, he’s beyond annoyed. you had deftly avoided him since kissing him, but now he had your cornered in your own room.

“are we just going to ignore the fact that you kissed me the other day and then completely ignored me for an entire week?” his voice is stern, commanding. any other day you’d be fighting a blush at how sexy he sounds like that, but now you’re beyond terrified.

“well that was the plan,” you hope your sarcasm is well received. judging by the way sebastian’s eyes harden and he crosses his arms across his chest, it is most definitely not well received.

“if that was the plan i would’ve appreciated a heads up you know,” his voice is somehow deeper than before.

“well i was kind of drunk so i wasn’t thinking you know,” you stumble over your words, fingers finding your thin golden chain and tugging harshly at it to fight the anxiety bubbling up in your stomach.

“so it was a mistake then?” he’s closer to you now, inches away from your trembling body. you don’t know how to answer the question, not knowing if even you knew the answer. sebastian takes your silence as your answer, turning to walk back out of the room. in an ungodly moment of clarity, your only solution is to scream a rushed ‘wait!’ and promptly jump onto his back, your arms wrapping around his neck as your ankles hook around his waist. your head is tucked into the crook of his neck, and he just about falls over at the force of you flinging yourself onto him.

“what in god’s name are you doing?” his voice is loud in your ear, and despite his attempts to tug you off of him, you stay wrapped around him.

“getting you to stay!” your line of logic is borderline at best, but that doesn’t matter now.

“what? why?” his hands grip each of your ankles tightly, intending to pry them apart and pull you off of him.

“because it wasn’t a mistake!” you’re consciously aware of the fact that you’re practically yelling in his ear, but it does the trick as his hands stop tugging on your legs. both of you are silent, save for the heavy breaths falling from your mouths.

“get off of me,” he speaks lowly, practically growling. it’s a tone you’ve never heard, and it sends shudders up your spine. you don’t waste a second, nimbly detaching yourself from him and falling to your feet just behind him. you’re positive he’ll walk out and not look back, so when his hands grab your face and he kisses you harshly, you all but pass out on the spot. your hands easily find purchase in his hair, tugging lightly at the roots as he backs you into the wall behind you and pressing his body into yours. his tongue claims every inch of your mouth, hands moving from your face to hold your hips tightly. when he pulls away, both of you gasping for breath, you catch a glimpse of that same soft smile he gave you outside of the bar.

“i thought you were mad at me,” you blurt out, consciously aware of how your hands are still tightly wound in his hair. you’re scared if you let go you may float up and away from him. he laughs lightly, staring down at your wide eyes and mouth slightly agape.

“i couldn’t stay mad at you if i tried,” he confesses, forehead resting against yours. it’s calming, comforting.

“why’s that?” you’re still breathless as you stare at him.

“because i don’t think anyone has ever looked through the front i put up and proceed to call me out on it the first time we met,” his answer is blunt, straight forward. you suddenly remember how panicked he seemed when you two first met. the puzzle pieces click together nicely.

•••

the forty seventh time he sees you, sebastian wakes up to see you peering down at him in bed. he’s hyper aware of the fact that he’s only in boxers.

“rise and shine sunshine!” you’re smiling widely, and the sudden shock of waking up to your face jolts him awake.

“jesus christ why would you do that,” he groans out, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palm.

“because you have to do chores today. louis is already annoyed at you, and i’d rather not wake up one day to find you dead because you never did what he asked you,” you say, hands on your hips. he comes to realize how beautiful you look while you stand next to his bed.

“how about you just come join me in bed all day,” he says, reaching out and grabbing your arms. you yelp with the force of being pulled forward and tripping over the end of the bed. you bounce onto the bed, strong arms wrapping tightly around your smaller form. your face grows increasingly warm, hands unconsciously pressed against the firm planes of his chest and head tucked under his chin. you look down on instinct, heart practically jumping out of your chest.

“sebastian! you’re not wearing clothes!” your voice is high and strained. your hands push against his chest, but he keeps you against him, rolling over so that he’s hovering above you with both of your hands intertwined above your head. when you look up, he’s grinning down at you, but it’s completely genuine.

“i have on underwear though. does that count?” he’s teasing, you’re very aware of that.

“that is probably the thinnest piece of clothing you could possibly have on right now. can you please pu-” you’re cut off by his lips on yours. it’s not like his usual kisses that tease you and only rile you up. it’s soft, passionate. he squeezes your hands ever so slightly as he feels you kiss back. everything about it is perfect in spite of his lack of clothes. when he pulls back, your eyes are gleaming in the sunlight pouring through the window, and you have the faintest hint of a smile on your face.

“how about instead, we get you out of all these unnecessary clothes instead,” he offers wiggling his eyebrows at you. neither of you can stop the laughs that follow his words, your eyes crinkling as you’re overcome with a fit of giggles. in the midst of your laughs, you don’t see how sebastian moran stares down at you. you don’t see how his heart beats inexpicably faster. you don’t see how he blushes madly. you don’t see how he’s fallen in love with you.

but it’s okay. because he can’t see the way you’ve fallen for him too.

•••

sebastian moran doesn’t know how to love. his past all but erased any chance for him to form a deep and meaningful connection with anyone. and he’s lived that way for the majority of his adulthood. that is, until the eighty third time he sees you.

he’s woken up to see you trembling in bed beside him, and he knows it’s not from the cold. your shared body heat keeps both of you comfortably warm.

“love? what’s wrong?” it’s still dark outside, probably well into the night. that doesn’t matter as he turns your shaking body to face his, and he sees the gleam of your tears reflecting the pale moonlight filtering through the curtains. he immediately pulls your body impossibly closer to his, smoothing a hand over your hair as you sob quietly into his chest. he waits until you’re calmed down before leaning back to look at your face. his thumb rubs over fresh tears, lips brushing against your forehead as your cries quiet down to occasional sniffles.

“i had a nightmare about the man i used to work for,” you admit, hands trembling between you two. it’s not the first time you’ve had one of these nightmares, but the last time it had happened was weeks ago.

“do you want to talk about it?” his voice is soft, gentle. you’ve come to love how sweet he is, how careful he is of you.

“no. can you just hold me for now?” your eyes are still shining with unshed tears, but he nods and pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and one around your back. he pushes your head onto his chest, your ear lining up just above his heart. he’s found that hearing his heartbeat helps you calm down after the more severe nightmares. he sighs in relief when he feels your breaths come out more evenly, your stiff body relaxing significantly in his arms.

“feel better princess?” you nod at his question, pulling your head back to shoot him a watery smile.

“thank you sebastian,” your voice still shakes slightly, but it’s considerably better than it was before. 

he tried to seduce men and women in bars until he met you. he never cared for anyone until he met you. sebastian moran didn’t know how to love someone until he met you. and now that he’s met you, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to live without you. so when he murmurs those three words that he hasn’t said since he was a young child, he feels tears prick the back of his eyes. because if he can make you smile the way you are right now, tears spilling onto your cheeks and a rushed ‘i love you too’ falling from your lips just so that you can kiss him as hard as you can, he’ll gladly tell you he loves you every hour of every day for the rest of his life.