#i never should have separated their blue hair from their pronouns...

[sirompp]

enough about YOU, whats your OC'S pronoun pipeline?

[slasher-male-wife]

"No way, I'm new wave": The Lost Boys x Male! reader

This is something I started to work on awhile ago but set it aside because I didn't know where to go with it, but after y'all voted on that poll I finished it. I hope y'all enjoy.

Content includes: Swearing, mentions of an orgy and sex (nothing NSFW actually happens), descriptions of the readers outfit (no body descriptions), hallucinations if you squint, reader eats fake maggots, use of Y/N, he/him pronouns and masculine terms used to refer to reader

Paul has never been gone for this long before. Sure there were times the four of them went their separate ways and they had some time by themselves, but he specifically told them he’d be back within ten minutes and now, almost half an hour later, he’s still not here. David is getting fed up with this, not being much of someone who wants to be seen waiting around for someone else. 

“Where the hell is he?” He asks rhetorically, dismounting from his bike and looking over at Marko and Dwayne. Marko Shrugs his shoulders and Dwayne looks out at the boardwalk. The three of them stay silent for a few more moments before Dwayne starts to walk and the other two follow after him. They walk for two minutes in silence until they come across Paul, sitting at a table with some random guy in a, well a seemingly random outfit. Purple pants, black and white shoes, some obscured black band shirt underneath a grid patterned button up and a bright blue sports coat with buttons and pins all over it, not to mention this guy’s hair probably has an entire can of hairspray in it. That guy just so happening to be you.

“Are you really a punk?” They hear Paul ask you. You raise your eyebrows and lean on the table you’re sitting at with him.

“Punk?” You ask in a rhetorical tone, “No way, I’m new wave. Totally different head. Totally.” You explain, gesturing with one of your hands, your tone slightly jesting.

“Right.” Paul agrees in a matching joking tone, picking up his drink and taking a sip of it. David comes up behind him and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Paul. We’ve been looking all over for you.” He looks over at you with his signature smile. “Who’s your new friend?” He asks, trying to keep his tone light. You stand up and give him a smile, holding out your hand for him to shake, your rings glinting dully in the lights of the boardwalk. 

“I’m Y/N. I didn’t mean to keep your friend from you but he commented on my pins and we started talking from there.” You say. David shakes your hand, his cold leather glove pressing against the warmth of your hand. 

“No problem at all.” He says, Dwayne and Marko soon coming up to the table, looking between Paul, David and you. 

“This guy is pretty cool.” Pauls says with a sort of vagueness to his tone. David keeps his eyes on you and nods, all four pairs of eyes on you, mostly looking over your outfit and choice of pins. 

“Ban the bum.” Marko says, squinting as he focuses his eyes on your pin. “And who’s that supposed to be on your pin?” He asks. You look down at your blazer and search for the one he’s talking about.

“Oh that’s Ronald Regan. I think you can tell that I’m not a big fan of the current way this country is being run.” You say, looking back up at him. Paul and Marko have wide grins on their faces as they look down between each other. David’s smile is more subtle and Dwayne is still stoic as always. 

“You fit in well here. I’m surprised you aren’t at some punk music show. Or I should say New Wave.” David says, an air of light hearted teasing in his voice. 

“Haven’t heard of any bands my style playing tonight.” You say as Paul stands up from his seat. “You guys look like you’d be at one of those shows too.” Your smile gets wider and your tone more playful. 

“You’d drive here?” Dwayne asks, finally speaking. Your attention turns to him and you shake your head. 

“I’m trying to drive less. I take the bus to most places. Not to get political again but we need more funding for public transport.” You tap your fingers on the table and pick up your drink. “You want to drive me home or murder me?” You tease, taking a sip of your drink before Paul chuckles. 

“You ever ridden a motorbike?” David asks, pulling a cigarette out of his coat pocket and lighting it, taking a drag and blowing the smoke out of the side of his mouth. You shake your head and shake your cup, setting it down on the table again. 

“Closest I’ve gotten to a motorbike is when one ran over my foot when I was 15.” After a pause you speak again, “I wasn’t serious about y’all taking me home. You don’t have to do that.” You say, feeling the outside of your pockets. “I’ve got a bus ticket. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself.”

“Who says we want to take you home.” Marko says, that grin still on his face. You nod your head and look away from the four of them for a moment. 

“I’m not interested in whatever orgy the four of you have planned. What you do with each other in the privacy of your house is none of my business but I don’t want to sleep with some people I just met.” You try to keep your tone light hearted but still serious enough to let them know you’re not joking. Then the four men chuckle, even Dwayne. 

“We’re not talking about sex.” David says, taking another drag of his cigarette. He keeps chuckling as he blows the smoke out of the side of his mouth. “We just have a place we want to show you. Somewhere you’ve probably never been before.” He shrugs and you cross your arms loosely over your chest. Against your better judgment you nod your head and keep your eyes on David.

“Alright. Let’s see what this place is.” You say, David smiling wider with your agreement. 

~~~~~~~~~

After a ride on the back of Paul’s bike that felt like hours you arrived at a cave on the shore line, an abandoned place for sure. You walk in with David as the other boys run ahead, lighting barrels with torches and filling the space with light. 

“This place used to be a grand hotel where the rich and famous stayed in the 1800s. That was until the San Francisco earthquake of 1906. This hotel sank underground, never to be seen again.” David explains, sitting down in what appears to be an antique wheelchair as the other boys settle around, you following suit. “Now this place is ours.” He says with a wide smile. 

“What a rich backstory.” You say with a jesting tone, nodding your head as Paul pulls out a box of chinese take out.

“You still hungry?” He asks, a smile on his face. “I saved this.” You take the box from him and the plastic spoon he hands you. Opening the box you find white rice, which you don’t remember ordering but you know it usually comes with chinese food. You take a bite and they start to chuckle. 

“How are the maggots?” David asks, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Excuse me?” You ask, already getting another spoonful of rice. 

“You’re eating maggots, Y/N.” You chuckle now and look down at the rice, finding that somehow the rice turned into a box full of live maggots. You loosen your grip on the box before quickly grabbing it again, some of the maggots spilling out of the top. The boys break out into full on laughter. You look back up at David and, with as straight of a face you can muster, you take a spoonful of the maggots and put it back into your mouth. 

Their laughter dies down and David continues to watch you, his smile shrinking but not going away completely. Once it’s in your mouth you look back down at the box and see it’s back to rice. 

“I didn’t take you as the kind of person who enjoys eating live bugs.” David jests, tapping his fingers on his knee as you chew. 

“Can’t eat something that isn’t real.” You retort in a less cheerful manner. He just smiles even wider at that. 

“What’s real is the snake around your hips.” He says, raising his eyebrows for a moment. You scoff and shake your head before you feel movement where your belt is. Looking down you find a black snake slithering its way around your hips.

“What the fuck?” You exclaim, jumping up from your seat as the boys start laughing again. You look back up at David and brush off the snake only to find that it’s gone, and in its place is your belt again. “Is there a gas leak in here or something?” You ask in a genuine tone, only making the boys laugh harder. David shakes his head and motions for you to sit back down, which you do slowly. 

“It’s safe down here, don’t worry about it.” He looks over at Paul with some kind of undertone you can’t quite pick up on and Paul gets up, walking over somewhere behind David. “Now maggots don’t bother you but snakes do?” You stare at him with a sour expression before you reply. 

“My mind thinking a box of rice is a box of maggots is one thing but feeling a real snake on my body out of nowhere is another.” You say, trying to hide your clearly tense tone. 

“You’re not scared are you?” Marko teases, a grin wide on his face as you look over at him. You hesitate before you shake your head and look back over at David.

“I’m just fine.” You say, putting on your best poker face as Paul returns with a glamorously decorated bottle. He hands it to David who starts to unscrew the top. He takes a sip from the bottle and looks back over at you.

“You drink Y/N?” He asks, adjusting his position on the wheelchair and leaning over to hand you the bottle. You look down at it and slowly take it from his hands. 

“You make homemade wine or something?” You ask, smelling the liquid inside the bottle. It’s got a metallic smell to it along with the alcohol, unlike any wine you’ve smelled before. 

“You could say that.” David says with that same smug expression he’s had on for most of the night. “Why don’t you try some?” He asks. You look down at the bottle again and give it another smell. 

“Come on, try some. Don’t be a wuss.” Paul says in a teasing tone, returning to where he was sitting. Dwayne nods his head and Marko looks at you expectantly. Against your better judgment you take a drink of the wine, earning a cheer from the boys. Marko pats your shoulder in a friendly way and Paul makes a noise of excitement. Dwayne smiles and David nods his head. 

“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint.” David says, taking the bottle back from you and screwing the cap back on. You know it couldn’t have been normal wine, but one sip won’t kill you, what’s the worst that could happen?

[imashoe69420]

Hello! I'm having a bit of a rough time so I thought I'd send this ask. What would the turtles be like with a S/O that has anxiety, depression and PTSD? How would they help them if their depression is bad enough that on some days they can't get out of bed, forget to eat, etc? Bonus if S/O is plus-sized/kinda chubby and insecure about it.

So since I’m doing all the boys, each mental illness/self-image issue will be separated by turtle. I hope that’s okay!

The reader’s symptoms are also closely aligned with my own as well as outside research. If you feel that something could be more accurate, let me know! :)

===================================

Rise!Bros X Reader Headcannons★彡

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Relationships: Dating

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (They/Them)

Timeline: Post Movie

Warnings ⚠️: Language, Mental Heath Issues, Brief Mention of Medication (Mikey)

===================================

Leo // PTSD

• Leo would be the first the know how to deal with PTSD.

• Well, not necessarily know, but empathize with you because of his time in the prison dimension.

• Both of you had vivid nightmares, so most nights, you two would stay awake together.

• The first time this happened, Leo caught you with your head in the refrigerator picking at some leftovers:

• “Nightmares?” The blue turtle asked, sleep lacing his voice.

• “Nightmares.” You nodded.

• You two finished some leftover spaghetti, then trudged back to Leo’s room, spending the rest of the night under the covers watching TNTL videos.

• This became a normal occurrence, talks eventually getting deeper:

• “It’s just… I feel so stupid sometimes. It happened years ago. Why do I still think about it almost every day?” You sighed as you laid on the blue clad turtle’s plastron.

• Leo shrugged. “I dunno, it’s more annoying than traumatic now.”

• There’s a pause when Leo took your hand in his own.

• “But I don’t think you’re stupid for it.”

• You smiled as he rubbed his hand over your knuckles.

• “Thanks, Lee.”

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

Raph // Anxiety

• Being the oldest in the family causes a lot of anxiety, especially in the Hamato household.

• You were also stressed being the oldest sibling as well. One of your siblings was in the hospital, and although it was just for a broken leg, it had you worried.

• Sleeping was a battle. One night, you were in the lair in Raph’s room.

• You slowly watched the clock tick by.

• 11PM… 12PM… 1PM.

• And you were still tossing and turning.

• Eventually, you started to think about your sibling and if it was right for you to be with your boyfriend rather than being in the hospital with them.

• It didn’t take long for the tears to start flowing as you had convinced yourself that you were a bad sibling.

• The snapping turtle eventually noticed your sadness and sleepily asked you what was wrong.

• “I should be with them, not here.” You said tearfully. “What if something happens? What if they dropped the remote to contact the nurse? What if—”

• “(Y/N), (Y/N)… don’t worry so much. They’re gonna be fine.” Raph tried to quell your anxiety.

• “But what if—”

• “Ya’ can’t live a life on ‘what if’s, (Y/N).” He interrupted you, speaking gently. “I know how you feel. You think I’m never worried about these knuckle heads? Ya’ just gotta trust them and the doctors.”

• You pushed your hair back from your face and sighed. “I… I know. It’s just…”

• “I know.”

• Raph scooped you in his arms and held you close. “You don’t have to explain. Just try to rest so you can see them tomorrow.”

• You snuggled up against him, attempting to hold back your tears. “Okay… I’ll try. Thank you. Really.”

• “What’re big siblings for?” He said sarcastically before you both eventually fell asleep.

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

Mikey // Depression

• Despite being medicated, there were moments when you would have a depressive episode.

• This consisted of staying at home, ignoring texts to hang out, not showering for days at a time, and overeating while watching a random Netflix Original.

• Mikey respected that you sometimes needed time away, although he was naturally clingy.

• After about three days, he’ll come visit you.

• It’s always a gamble with you. You either let him in graciously, or simply act like he’s not there.

• When you would let him in, he would bring snacks and DVDs of your favorite movies.

• Most of the time, you two would huddle under a blanket and watch those DVDs for hours.

• Other times, he would beckon you to come outside. And when you obliged, you two usually had a good time exploring New York and the Hidden City.

• When you were out of your funk, you were back to being physically affectionate.

• You were always grateful for your little orange weirdo.

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

Donnie // Plus Size

• Donnie never quite understood people’s hate for plus sized bodies, nor did he understand your misplaced desire to be skinnier.

• Your insecurities really stood out when you guys would go out or on dates.

• “We’ve been walking for a while. Are you hungry?” Donnie asked you as the two of you walked the streets of New York City.

• “I mean… are you hungry?” You asked bashfully.

• Donnie shrugged. “Not especially.”

• You shook your head. “I’m good, then.”

• It took Donnie a couple of minutes to become curious as to why you only wanted to eat when he was eating.

• “Why didn’t you want to eat?” He asked out of the blue.

• You sighed and shook your head again. “It’s nothing, Dee.”

• “No,” the purple clad turtle stopped walking, “I wanna know.”

• “Well… I dunno, it’s embarrassing.” You thought about how to formulate your words to help him understand. “When people see us eating together, they’ll just think that we’re hungry. But when I’m the only one eating…”

• Your words trailed off, and it took Donnie several seconds to finally understand what you’d meant.

• “That’s nonsense.”

• “Yeah, well, that’s how people will see us: a guy and his fatass girlfriend.”

• To say the turtle was angry at the absurdity of the world’s mentality on plus sized people was an understatement.

• He quickly took hold of your hand and pulled you back to the hotdog stand you’d just passed.

• “Two plain hotdogs, please. And some ketchup on the side.” Donnie told the vendor.

• He had really meant that he wasn’t hungry and only ended up finishing about half of the hotdog, but your comfortability meant more to him.

• After the meal, you started walking again before you took hold of Donnie’s bicep.

• “I really appreciate that, babe. I mean it.” You rested your head on his shoulder.

• The turtle leaned his head so it was on top of yours. “Anything for you.”

[suengmi]

✧ ugly ✧ 1.6k, pg

changbin would argue that those things were reserved for him, that he should only be the one that touches you. 'i just don't like it!' changbin had argued the night prior, huffing and puffing about how hyunjin looked like he wanted more every time he was even remotely affectionate towards you. it made him furious, and it was ugly.

pairing: changbin x afab!reader (no pronouns mentioned) genre: angst, fluff warnings/other: established!relationship, living together, jealousy, arguing, mostly proofread, prompt

ugh, the look on his face. he doesn't get it. he never has got it. 

it's not as if you can erase a friendship from childhood, those relationships run deep, they become a part of you. like they shape you almost. countless times have you told changbin you're just friends with hyunjin, countless. it doesn't seem to make a difference, no matter how many times you argue about the way that hyunjin touched you, spoke to you even. how he'd back hug you and then bite the crown of your head, making you whip around and smack him on the arm, grabbing his wrist threatening to bite back. 

changbin would argue that those things were reserved for him, that he should only be the one that touches you. 

'i just don't like it!' changbin had argued the night prior, huffing and puffing about how hyunjin looked like he wanted more every time he was even remotely affectionate towards you. it made him furious, and it was ugly to see how jealous he got. 

though you weren't on the best of terms, tonight was hyunjin's birthday. all of your friends had gathered, and it was going to fun. you were going to make sure of it. changbin had to suck it up or you'd really have something to make him mad about. 

you arrived together, but walked separately as you entered the house. changbin's head was low, hands in his pockets as he shadowed behind you. 

"baby!" hyunjin squealed, running forwards to swoop you into a big hug as you entered his apartment. you happily accepted the hug, his arms squeezing you just a bit too tight. changbin waited behind, a dry expression painted on his face. 

"hey, happy birthday." changbin said, pulling you back by the edge of your jumper. 

hyunjin stared at changbin, then moved his eyes back to you. he was frowning, not sure of what was causing the tension.

"uh, thanks, did you get me a car?" hyunjin joked to lighten the mood, wiggling his hips a bit. 

changbin just sighed, rubbing the side of his neck. "no, but we did order something. it's coming tomorrow so i'll drop it off then. sorry it's late." 

"ah don't worry." hyunjin said as he smiled to changbin. "come in, everyone's here already."

the night was going well, everyone seemed to be having a good time. more bodies piled in as the night went on, there were maybe about fifty people here. towards the end of the night, you were absolutely exhausted. after a few drinks and a bit of dancing, you decided it was time to go home.

you can’t see your boyfriend, the light was maybe a bit too dark, the room only being lit with a few lines of pink and blue lights.it was still packed, music blaring off the walls. you weren’t sure who was there and who wasn’t.

“ah, i’ve gotta find my mans, have you seen him?” you asked hyunjin, leaning a bit closer to his shoulder to look. hyunjin wrapped his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to look through the crowd.

“can you see him?” you yell to his ear.

“what?!” hyunjin yells back, turning his head to you, his hair falling against your cheek.

“i said, have you seen changbin?!”

“oh he’s there!” hyunjin points towards the couch. 

when you lock eyes with changbin, the stare is almost empty, hollow and jealous. the ugly emotion rearing it’s head again, obvious on his face.

“is he… okay?” hyunjin asks, lips turning down at the sides.

“who knows, i’m just gonna go home. i’m sick of this.”

hyunjin pulls you back, arms on your shoulders. “is he still jealous?”

“yes.” you sigh. “for some reason he’s still fucking angry at how close we are. he hates it, and hates it with all our friend group."

hyunjin lets out a long breath, watching you intently.

“he even does it with jisung, we all know jisung kisses everyone.” you scoff, hands coming to your hips.

hyunjin rolls his eyes, brows a little crumpled. “maybe there’s more to it. just ask him. maybe… i should talk to him? we used to bathe together, it’d be like romancing my sister. ew.”

you both shudder at the thought. “it’s okay, i’ll sort it.”

-

the ride home is silent. changbin is focusing on the road, one of his hands supporting his head as he leans against the car window. the wind is so gently weaving through his fluffy hair, he looks beautiful like this, even with the obvious frustration in his face. 

“you looked really nice tonight.” you mumble, hands fiddling in your lap.

changbin looks over at you for a second, before turning his head back to the road. “yeah, you too. you always look gorgeous.”

okay, you’re getting somewhere. you need to keep this up.

“the black shirt you wore always makes your arms look great.” 

the smile finally shows itself on changbin’s face, and he looks like he’s trying not to blush. 

“says you, those overalls you wear always make you look so cute. especially because you find it hard to strap them on, and they’re always on the wrong hook.” he lightly laughs, pulling the car into your driveway.

“i just can’t get them right!” you laugh, letting your head fall back to the head rest. “that’s why i need you to help me.”

when the car stops, changbin removes the key’s and turns to face you. “ah, we gotta talk, don’t we?”

“yeah.” you say, lips pouting in thought.

“it’s not fair.” changbin blurts out before you can even take off your seatbelt, looking down to his lap. he’s playing with his keys, seemingly unaware of where to look.

you take in a long breath, clicking your seatbelt lock to let it slide back into place. “what isn’t?”

“just- just everything.”

“changbin, i need you to be honest and clear with me. i’m not a mind reader-”

“i know.” he interrupts. “just, let me finish okay?”

you nod slowly, listening as well as you can.

“i just- it’s not fair. i’m saying it’s not fair because… i think i’m beginning to get jealous because… well i’m not sure.” he says, eyes locking up at yours.

“i’m so in my head, we just moved in together, and for some reason i feel like hyunjin is going to take you away. i know he’s not, and i know you’re not like that but it fucking irritates me. i think i’m irritating myself more than anyone. you’re just my shitty collateral damage.”

“where did this come from? have i done anything?” you say, feeling sadness well in your chest like a tight ball.

“no, oh my god, no!” he almost shouts, hands finding yours to hold them. he links his fingers with yours, gripping a little bit too hard.

he goes to continue, but he stops as soon as he sees the tears forming in your eyes. he watches you as tears spill to your cheeks, guilt and worry settling in the back of his throat. it’s not until you sob a bit that he speaks up.

“baby, no. it’s all me, it’s nothing to do with you.” he coos, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand.

“okay.” you say quietly, tears still sliding down your cheeks. “are you sure?”

“yes, it’s just me. you know my ex had a similar relationship with her childhood friend, now they’re getting married, so i think that’s recently just got me shaken.”

“but… i’m not your ex, i didn’t do that.”

“no, i know. it’s just me projecting. i'm an asshole.”

“yeah, asshole.” you chuckle, tears beginning to halt. “why didn’t you tell me? you’ve been putting me through hell.. i even thought about breaking up with you, that's how bad you've been.”

“i’m sorry, i just didn’t know how to bring it up without sounding like an idiot.” he says, hand coming to your cheek, thumb rubbing away the tears.

“don’t do that again. it’s got nothing to do with hyunjin or me." you scowl, ripping your hands from his to fold your arms.

"besides, hyunjin used to put his finger up my nose when we were like two.”

“ah, he still does that.” changbin laughs, head nodding to the side. “but yes you’re right. i’m sorry. i feel like shit.”

“i’m not gonna say it’s okay, because it’s not, but you need to communicate with me. otherwise this won’t work.” you say, still feeling hurt from everything. but it’s a step you guess.

“you’re right. you’re always right.” he pouts.

“okay, if you feel jealous you gotta tell me so we can nip it in the bud. i’m not going to stop being the way i am with hyunjin, but you gotta tell me as soon as you feel that way. deal?”

changbin frowns, looking like a little sook. “okay, deal.”

"stop frowning, you big baby." you laugh, wiping the last of your tears with the back of your jumper.

"yeah, i am a big baby huh?"

"mhm." you agree, deciding to put the seatbelt back on. "now let's go."

changbin frowns, watching you sit still as you take out your phone, putting something into the gps. you had only been living together for a few weeks, still unsure of what was around in your suburb.

"huh?" changbin questions, absolutely confused.

"you're gonna buy me maccas, that's the first step of apology."

changbin has never moved faster, quickly fastening his seatbelt and almost forcing his key into the ignition. "say no more."

-

a/n: not as fluffy as i wanted but i hope it's okay ;_;

taglist: @l3visbby @blankdyean @abcdefgiwsmcty @daddyjoonchua @ipegchangbin (it's changbin i gotta tag u love)

[iri-desky]

A Real Life Example of "Two Painfully Shippable Characters"

From the makers of Soukoku, Klance, WebLena, HuaLian, and XiaoVen... /j

I give you the amazingly complicated relationship I have with my best friend (?), who for the purpose of this post and her own privacy we will call "Vulpe" (Fox in Italian) because she loves foxes and they're basically her symbolic animal. (She goes by any pronouns, like me. But I'll be using she for the both of us in this post)

Okay, so, anyway, me and Vulpe have known each other for three years. Since then, we've been with each other through thick and thin...that being said, in every way that matters, she and I are pretty different, and yet amazingly similar. We're both witty and sarcastic, but her way is more of a "bully in the back alley" way, and I'm a "scientist who's so done" (Dammit Jim! /ref) kind of way. We're both amazingly creative, but in different ways that I absolutely cannot explain. She's brusque and bold while I'm sympathetic and amazingly stubborn. To be frank; we're two halves of a whole. Or, we've become that.

Anyhow, our actual relationship is amazingly confusing. We have this "Hate-Love" relationship that can fluctuate between two extremes. The only extreme is NEVER goes to is violence, because we don't really, actually hate each other. Yet to an outside observer, it can be perceived in dozens of different ways, from "They absolutely loathe each other's guts" to "They're completely in love" depending on the day and the interaction. Again, from the makers of skk and klance... /lhj Nonetheless in truth we adore each other and pretty much are the biggest things standing between each other and death. Vulpe gets jealous of me sometimes while I occasionally want to punch her, but at the end of the day we won't do anything to each other.

Her symbolic color is red (with a touch of yellow) whereas mine is blue (with a touch of purple).

She's tall and I'm short. We have the relationship where we banter constantly and would likely marry each other solely for tax benefits and not love.

She wears band shirts end eyeliner, her wardrobe primarily consisting of monochrome hues with red or yellow, and, honestly, is emo, (don't tell her I said that /vlh) whereas I wear poppy and colorful, as well as preppy outfits, albeit consisting of pop culture references across the board. (To which she endearingly calls me "nerd")

Our brains work separately in such a way in that we likely would break each other's mind attempting to understanding the precise inner workings. The being said we either work together in such a way that we become the best team, or we completely shut down each other's brain cells. Just down for the count.

Among the most fascinating parts, however, is that we are uncannily similar to HuaLian, specifically. Much akin to Hua Cheng, she... has eyeliner, has horrible handwriting (Don't worry, I can say that), possesses foxes as a symbolic animal, is highly nonchalant, neutral in nature in a variety of actions, and is typically highly confident... in most aspects. As for me, further akin to Xie Lian, I'm obsessed with the arts, wear my hair in a similar pullback, possesses a strong association with "paradise" and rabbits, possesses great emotional confusion often, and willing to see in the best in others.

... and thus, here we are, planning to do a wattpad-esque relationship scheme should her mother not allow me to come with her to Japan.

Hope y'all enjoyed this account of real life "painfully shippable characters", even though if the both of us saw a fandom was shipping us we probably would either both laugh our asses off and/or kick the Fandom's ass.

End scene.

[lozriftsintime]

Name: Link Malon Meadowkeep Braxton/Twilight Dusk Meadowkeep Braxton

Alias(es): Twilight, Link Miller, Link Walker

Nickname(s): Pup, Divine Beast, Wolfie, Twi, Little Prince, Rancher

Birthday: (I am currently working on a calendar system for this AU, so this will come later.)

Age When Introduced: 26

Pronouns: He/she (usually he)

Height: 6'9

Source/Game(s): Twilight Princess and Breath of the Wild

Sexuality: Asexual and Demiromantic

Favorite/Disliked Color(s): Twilight struggles to narrow down a color that he’s particularly fond of. Or one he doesn’t like.. He likes the Red of the Gerudo folks, but he’s also dealt with Ganondorf. He likes the blue of Wild’s sheika slate and associated towers. The blue of one of Wild’s favorite outfits.  But it was painful to see that color while they were separated and that pain lingers sometimes. Grey reminds him of Twilight magic, but that’s both a fond and a painful memory. Off-white and tan felt like home for a long time. He associated them with Ordon village, but these days those colors hurt more than grey.

Skills: Twilight is pretty good with a sword, though his technique would leave most people scratching their heads. It's a mix of Gerudo fighting, knight training, training from Shade, and tips from Rusl. Plus things he's figured out from using his magic and the instincts he's gained from his time as Wolfie.

On top of a hard-to-follow technique, Twilight is ambidextrous. He uses his left hand most often, in part because he knows it throws people off to have to fight someone who is left-handed. But he can fight just as well with his right hand. (He actually fights better with his right arm when the weather is bad and the scar on his left arm throbs). Plus when he hits, he hits hard. Without the use of strength-enhancing objects Twilight is easily one of the physically strongest in the chain, if not the strongest.

Twilight is also one of the better archers in the chain, coming after Fox in skill. Twilight is slightly better at long distance shots while Fox is better at accuracy and speed of shots.

Outside of his physical prowess, Twilight has taken a lot of time to master his magic over the last couple of years. He can use twilight magic to teleport, heal, enhance his weapon attacks, attack directly, and shield. He's also figured out how to create functional wings with it (he started out trying to make a glider of sorts with it and it evolved from there). Unfortunately, much of what he learned combat-wise isn't the most helpful for when he's fighting alongside allies.

Outfit/Design Notes: Twilight's hair can be shown as either dirty blond/light brown or Gerudo red, depending on if he's hiding it or not. His hair is naturally red, but his mother made sure to teach him to hide it from a very young age. This is because having red hair in his Hyrule is a death sentence thanks to the after-effects of the Hyrule-Gerudo war. Because of this he very rarely lets his natural hair color show. Unlike his hair, Twilight has never needed to hide his eyes. The bright blue he bears is far from what people would ever think of when they picture Gerudo. Interestingly enough, his eyes are the same color as the blue lights of the Divine Beasts.

When Twilight first shows up in the AU he wields the Ordon Sword, but he ends up swapping it out for the Gaurof Sword (from the Twilight Princess Manga) shortly after he and his group first arrive in his time.

As for clothes, Twilight left behind both his hero's tunic and his Ordon outfit years ago. Instead, he prefers to wear the outfits and accessories he got while traveling with Fox in their time. Often times paired with a hood made of wolf's fur that he made some time back. Two of his favorite outfits are the Hylian Armor and the Snowquill armor.

Over the years since he finished his adventure Twilight has spent a good amount of time as a wolf and it has left some physical marks on him. His teeth are considerably sharper than a Hylian's should be and his sense of hearing and smell are far more advanced. On top of that, he has dark grey marks across his body that line up with most of the lighter grey markings that are on his wolf form's fur.

Twilight has a number of scars scattered across his body. Two of the most prominent are a pair of large scars going horizontally across the center of his abdomen and back, just below his ribs. The scars are about a foot wide, though the one on his back is slightly shorter. He does have a number of others, some are small pucker marks from arrows, and others appear to have been cuts from daggers or swords. Some of the most alarming are a set of what look like scars from whip marks across his back. Twilight tends to wear clothes that cover up at least the whip scars and the deep paired scars. Not because he's ashamed, but because people tend to freak out when they see them.

Other: Twilight usually feels like a man, but there are times when he shifts to a woman instead. This almost always happens while he is in a desert. Thanks to some of his childhood experiences he isn't certain if his gender shifts are natural or thanks to conditioning, but he has no way to know, so tries not to think about it. It's just a part of who he is.

Twilight doesn't know any terms for how he feels about sex or romance, but he knows that sex does not appeal to him at all. And he's only ever fallen in love with two people and those people were close friends before he felt those sorts of feelings for them.

In all honesty, Twilight has had a rough life. Raised on the fear that if anyone found out what he was they would either kill him or steal him away from his family to use him for their own goals he hadn't ever really felt safe to be himself until coming to Fox's time. On top of that, him learning twilight magic from Midna ended up causing him a great deal of grief. First, it led to him being banished from Ordon Villiage and later it led to him being banished from Hyrule as a whole. Despite this, he wouldn't give it up. His magic saved his life many times, and it allowed him to better help Fox out during their first adventure. All the way up until he was yanked back to his original time.

Twilight then spent the next several years attempting to make his way back to his home with Fox and Ren (Fox's Zelda). This eventually led to him being locked up in the dungeon of Hyrule castle, which is where the rift opened up for him to start on this newest adventure.

Note-I just noticed that I drew Twilight's baldric (sword belt) facing the wrong way. A side effect of copying off of botw armor I fear. It should be on his left shoulder, which also means that the leather part across his chest should probably face the other way as well...

[making-a-killing]

"The K in hippocratic oath stands for Kimiko, now please stop questioning the syringe of fluid in ny hand. I promise it's good for you."

Character details:

Letter: K

Code name: Kimura

True name: Kimiko Kujo

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 17

Birthdate: March 21

Orientation: Bisexual

Home country: Japan

Likes: lizards, microbiology, helping people she deems "worthy"

Dislikes: horror films, minimalist decor, "difficult persons"

Extra: K arrived at Wammys fairly young and had been pursuing a medical career prior to the L program. Her parents were both doctors and died in a lab accident while working on a top secret infectious disease program. K had been given extensive private schooling and was far above any other child her age. Subsequently, Mr. Wammy, who had been good friends with her parents, brought her to Wammys House so she could continue her studies. K genuinely believes in the Wammys House system and L program, even though she is not at all considered a proper successor. Brilliant and loyal as she may be she is headstrong in her sense of justice and should never be left alone in a lab.

Appearance:

Hair color: Light brown, long and straight, often kept in a tight bun or pony tail but occasionally let down

Eye color: Black

Skin tone: Warm beige

Height: 5'7 (170cm)

Weight: 120-130lbs (54-59kg)

Fashion sense: Extremely formal. Usually wears black or white and rarely dresses in color but typically wears muted blues or greens. Often wears her lab coat around during busy weeks.

Extra: Sometimes wears a small peice of jewelry, but nothing to flashy. Her appearance is fairly sterile overall.

(=Rules under cut=)

Mun:

The man behind the muse is @artificial-ascension

That's my main personal blog and everything about me is in the pinned post. If you don't feel like going there:

Michael

19

He/they

My other rp blog is @fairweather-fangs I made a separate blog for my other muse because I like theming my blogs

Activity:

I am very active on Tumblr and try to be here

If I have alot of asks or RPs going on at once it may take a while to get to all of them, but trust me I do see everything.

I may get writers block for some things but I will try to get around to everything.

I'm very open about what I'm working on so if you have questions or concerns feel free to message me. If for whatever reason I will not be responding to your ask/response I will inform you

I'm in the Eastern U.S. but may be active anywhere from 5am (my time) at the earliest to 3am at th latest. (I have a terrible sleep schedule) However I am mich less likely to be writing or responding super late or super early. I may also be late to things if I'm away from my phone because I do that sometimes

Rules:

I don't mind most things, if you feel like you need permission to do something to K I almost certainly don't care

K often goes by Kimiko and her full name is probably available if you dig enough. If you're character is willing to find it they're free to use her real name.

NSFW is very much allowed but I require you to be 18+ for sexual material. Otherwise go crazy.

I don't like writing much... you wouldn't be able to tell because I'm quite long winded...

Really just try and not speak for K. That's my job, also I may do so on my other rp blog, but most K will go here.

And also don't be a dick. I try to be friendly but I don't fuck with any sort of bigotry in or out of character. And don't be rude to me I'll block you. I came here to have fun.

Trigger warnings: Comically absurd medical malpractice?? There's not alot here, pretty much just the average edgy wammys rp here.

Rules and warnings to be expanded upon as things come up. I'm new here.

[gcldengrime]

ABOUT LENNON | I can’t be everything to everyone, but I’ll kill myself trying and I’m not scared of dying.

CHARACTER BASICS

NAME: Lennon Burke

AGE: Thirty-Two

GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis man, He/Him

FACE CLAIM: Barry Keoghan

EYE COLOR: Blue

HAIR COLOR: Black

HEIGHT: 5′8″

DATE OF BIRTH: September 9th

ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo

LEVEL OF EDUCATION: High School Diploma

RELIGIOUS AFFILIATION: N/A

OCCUPATION: Owner of Crescent Moon Ink

HOMETOWN: Kilkenny, Ireland

CHARACTER HISTORY [TRIGGER WARNING FOR DRUG ABUSE, ADDICTION, OVERDOSE]

The only way to convince twelve year old Lennon to get on the plane and leave Ireland until he turned eighteen was the promise that he’d never see his brothers again if he dared to run off. He did, though, only to have his older brother pull him by the collar of his shirt kicking and screaming on to the platform. He should have known then that this was far from the climax of trouble they would face in their mother’s desperate attempt to rewrite the limited chapters she had left in her life.

When Lennon turned fourteen, his mother was deported and the boys were forced to stay due to their dual citizenship and the lack of funds their mother had to even bring them over. Lennon didn’t think much of going into foster care as they seemed to have better chances in the system rather than with her. However, Lennon has always been more comfortable in chaos and the lull of someone finally doing right by them was quickly destroyed by his own hands. Him and his brothers were separated in the system, each going down their own poor path and eventually only reuniting over a morgue table to identify their eldest brother.

Lennon and his two younger brothers ended up on the streets and in retaliation for the person who sold his older brother the drug that took his life, he did more than just slink around dark corners. Lennon learned the game to find those spiking drugs. The Burke boys took the supply and reported it to the authorities, but they were far from upstanding citizens.

Making a deal with the cop that handled the case, Lennon and his brothers were able to avoid CPS as long as he helped the man snag other dealers. He worked as a rat while also using the open slots of those he burned to create his own business. He ended up getting a lot of connections in the city and the opportunity to adopt his brothers out of the system with the proper resources to get them in his custody.

PRESENT DAY [TRIGGER WARNING FOR DRUG ABUSE, ADDICTION]

The only issue was that that Lennon had the resources he never had before,  and was s caught between wanting to be a savior and also fending for himself as he always had. His brothers found their struggle with addiction and he paid for their rehabilitation just as much as he paid for the clean supply when they got out and fell off the wagon. To this day, he has a paid set of eyes on his younger brother who still remains in a rehab facility, while the other is somewhere in the city only ever appearing when he needs help. 

About five years ago, he took himself out of the game to try and settle with all of the money he was able to make and set aside. It hasn’t taken much for Lennon to try and fix his mistakes by also taking care of those he knows have dabbled in drug use, despite knowing he was the root of the problem by making their dangerous fix accessible. He wants to help but how do you help when all you’ve ever known is how to destroy? Working now to keep himself busy, he’s trying to make something of himself using the tricks he learned along the way for something more sustainable to make a future he can share with his brothers.

HEADCANONS

Lennon uses box dye on his hair but never toner, someone please help him.

He has a multitude of shitty tattoos including a small x under his eye near his cheekbone.

He is currently having an affair with the wife of the cop that he worked with, as she is involved with drugs secretly. He is a mess.

10/10 will gslight, gatekeep, girlboss.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

The good ol’ classic hook up, whether it be something consistent or a one night stand

Childhood friends that grew apart

Childhood enemies

Exes

People he’s met in the system

The woman he’s having an affair with ahahahaha

Someone he pays to keep an eye on his younger brothers

[lovenona]

ON THE SACRED BONDS OF BROTHERHOOD.

synopsis; choso may be their beloved frat brother, but he’ll always be your brother first. (for the frat au collab.) 

pairing; frat boy! choso x f! reader

contains; stepcest, dubcon (reader is under the influence but having a good time), extensive descriptions of knife play and blood play, marking (choso carves his name into you), oral (f! receiving), borderline yandere/possessive choso (he loves you A Lot), choso goes from mean to Soft, consumption and romanticization of drugs and alcohol, (1) use of ‘angel’, reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns, this is essentially all foreplay and ends before the fucking because i got tired, minors do not interact or perish

word count; 6.5k

the yard outside is clean, well-kept. there’s talk that the house’s landlord is a retired gardener who receives great joy from keeping up the hydrangeas and peonies along the sidewalk. it’s certainly award-winning, that front yard, with its colorful blossoms and plush bees circling the mailbox. 

they’re so lucky, students bemoan on their way to and from class. i can’t believe the frat boys get to live there. i bet they don’t even know how lucky they are.

it’s a seemingly kind house from the outside – recently renovated with navy blue paint and white trimming, a large front porch and a few inviting windows. the place that omega lambda now calls home is, simply put, a dream. it sits just a few minutes from campus and it tells the street proudly, fondly, that there is no better place to be than here.

it’s true, in some respects, that omega lambda likes to see themselves as above the sweat and grime of their fellow frat brothers. they don’t spend their weekends “fucking and drinking” and tracking dirt across the carpet like animals. their fun is calm, refined: to be invited to a night with omega lambda means a night of smoke curling into the air, of gossip over olive-colored couches, of pills under tongues, of ease and relaxation.

it’s slower than the others, they say in the back of monday morning lectures, but no less extreme, no matter what those boys try and tell you.

i think i was tripping for days, the girl from psychology 101 boasted. whatever the fuck yuuji gets is strong. 

such stories amaze you: and even as you stand on the sidewalk outside the perfect blue house, petunias curling inward with the evening breeze, you cannot believe they are real. it’s hard to imagine the face of your beloved stepbrother tied to these antics. it’s hard to imagine that the boy who used to come home every winter and summer with bloodshot eyes and a beat-up skateboard also swore a loyal, unbreakable oath of brotherhood to a band of boys you’ve never met. 

it’s hard to imagine that your own stepbrother, choso, the one who taught you how to ride a bike and how to apply eyeliner and how to kiss without teeth, quite literally runs what has been dubbed the chillest fraternity on campus.

but yet, here you are, new to university, fresh-faced and eager, cowering outside the door of the omega lambda residence. your favorite skirt hovers around your thighs and you tug at the collar of your shirt, fiddle with the charm of the necklace choso gave you for your birthday a few years ago. 

he’d invited you here almost immediately after learning that you and your roommate had tried your hand at partying with beta pi epsilon. naoya is trash, choso’s fervent texts read the next morning. absolute dick – don’t trust him. come hang out with us instead. he’d attached the address of the blue house along with a reminder to have a snack and take some medicine for your godforsaken hangover. 

the message had taken you a little by surprise. choso’s always been sweet to you – doting, even, if you wanted a better word for it – but you hadn’t been sure how he’d handle attending the same university. your other friends all complain that they’d rather die than see their families; twins separate after orientation, brothers and sisters look the other way if they pass each other in the quad. you feared choso would be the same, that the omnipotent attention he gave you at home would completely dissipate the moment you moved into your dorm.

but his text reaffirms you, if anything. and although your roommate had opted to be wined and dined by the boy from calculus this evening, you don’t mind attending alone. her absence from your side only means you will be able to see your stepbrother without a distraction.

the music buzzes through the door as you knock and wring your fingers on the doorstep. should you just walk in? should you text choso and wait for him to fetch you? the ins-and-outs of frat etiquette cloud your mind until the door swings open and you’re met, face-to-face, with a young pink-haired man dangling a blunt from one hand and his phone, opened to his spotify playlist, from the other.

“hi,” you say, words foreign in your throat. “choso invited me?”

“oh, cool,” itadori yuuji says, shrugging his shoulders like he never would have questioned it. “come on in. you can put your shoes over there.” 

while omega lambda is not packed from wall to wall as your night at beta pi epsilon had been, the various couches propped against the walls and surrounding the living room coffee table are nearly packed to the brim with the frat brothers and their guests. the air, hazy with smoke and desire and drinking, shifts and swirls as it curls around purple LED lights before fogging up the windows and disappearing up the stairs. it is warm here, easy, like dropping into the depths of a pleasurable dream.

“there’s drinks in the kitchen,” yuuji is saying, voice thick with his high, “and we’ve got some other stuff on the table, although you’ll have to pay yuuta for those–” 

yuuji’s narration is cut off as a familiar figure crashes into yours, sweeping you into a hug so tight you fear your bones will snap from the pressure. choso smells like the cologne you bought him for his birthday, like fresh laundry and comfort; you breathe him in, deeply, and let yourself relax into the soft cotton of his black t-shirt.

“glad you could make it,” choso mumbles into your skin. he draws back slightly, drinks you in, your little skirt and your dainty socks that he’s always been partial to. he looks from you to yuuji, still vibing to the side with his playlist, and his eyes crinkle in what must be mirth.

“it’s good to see you,” you say. 

“you saw me at lunch with mom last week.” choso smiles, the black line across his nose crinkling when his eyes light up. 

“you get what i mean.” you tap his shoulder, lightly, as emphasis. the anxiety dissolves; it’s you, and him, like it’s always been. it’s your stepbrother choso who watches your shadow and wraps you up to keep the rest of the world at bay. 

but the tender moment is broken when someone, a tall blonde girl with the aura of a lioness, calls out to choso to ask him for assistance. he looks at you, a bit forlorn, before telling yuuji to help you get settled in and making his way to the other end of the living room.

“yes, this way!” yuuji grabs your arm and drags you across the floor like you’ve known each other forever. “i make some fucking good drinks if i do say so myself.” 

which, consequently enough, is how you find yourself losing your mind within the walls of omega lambda. 

it’s not that you’re a virgin to the world of cocktails and lime and pills: it’s that you’re too sweet to know when to stop. it’s hard to tell yuuji no more, thanks when his face is so bright, when he and the strange, blue-haired frat brother mahito are asking you to try this and try that and to let us know what you think. 

so you let yourself sway through the house, from couch to couch, listening to this mahito boy tell you about his latest philosophy courses as he dances cold fingers across your shoulders, listening to yuuji explain the very serious business of pulling an all-nighter without coffee, watching the LED lights shift from purple to blue and back again.

(you’re not sure where choso is. perhaps, in your altered state, he’s sitting just across from you and you don’t even know it. but you don’t mind, because his brothers get along with you just as well. you don’t mind, because you’re too drunk or too high to know any better.) 

“and how are you doing?” a dark-haired man slides into the empty couch space next to you. arms littered with various tattoos and dark hair pulled back into a casual half-bun, he could have been your beloved choso had he not exuded such finesse, such arrogance, which choso could never be capable of doing.

“i’m alright,” you say, but you’re more than alright. the room is so warm and your brain is so fuzzy that you might melt into the couch if someone looked away for even a minute. “i don’t think we’ve met before? i’m choso’s stepsister.” 

he simpers, a humid thing, one that coils around your eyelids and sets your insides alight. “ah! i’ve heard a lot about you. it’s nice to meet you.” he holds out a manicured hand; black nail polish glimmers in the dim light. “geto. i’m one of choso’s frat brothers.” 

his handshake might take your soul with it. his hands are smooth, refined. you swear he can feel your quickening pulse as you introduce yourself. he watches you like you might be the only person in the room, like you might be the sweetest thing to have ever crossed the threshold. and filled with rum and liqueur and confidence you take it, gladly, because you’re young and the thought of university still puts stars in your eyes. 

“so what are you studying?” geto is saying, prying you apart, picking through your history. he’s in his final year and you’re in your first and he knows all there is to know while you still have nothing. you latch onto him because he gets it, because he’s handsome, because you’re silly and desperate and drunk. somewhere along the way your thighs touch and his hand greets your shoulder and you think that you finally made it into his lap because mahito complained that the couch was too full. 

geto smells like expensive cologne. you smell vaguely of lemons and shampoo. yuuji jokes with you from across the table and you like it, the way these brothers’ eyes fall on you. 

so you spiral, further and further, into a daze you cannot escape from. you barely react to geto’s firm hand snaking up your bare thigh because you are too busy trying yuuji’s latest creation and asking mahito for more of whatever he gave you. it’s fun, it’s weightless; you feel beautiful, supreme, like the kind of college girl you’re supposed to be. you’re desirable, cute. you’re the girl to be in love with, the one who sets the scene.

those rumors were right. the party is certainly slower than the other frats you’ve visited, with more emphasis on sitting and vibing than on dancing and drinking games, but no less extreme. you’re so far out of your brain that you wonder briefly if it will ever be possible to come back down. maybe you’ll be her, on monday morning, the girl who’s still tripping.

“you know,” geto is saying, his breath eerily close to your pulse, a moment away from pressing a kiss to your cheek, your neck, “you should stop by more often.” 

“yeah?” you hope you sound sexier than you are. “i’d love to–”

“excuse me,” choso’s voice cuts through your lazy fantasy like the sharp fall of a guillotine. “i’d prefer if you didn’t hit on my sister, geto.” 

geto’s laugh reverberates against your back, your ears. his grip on you lightens immediately, and whatever words he’d saved for you die away. “i’m not,” he says, but his voice is too easy to be honest. “just keeping her company. right, sweetheart?”

you’re finding it hard to see straight. caught in this game of cat and mouse you find you can do nothing but sit lamely in geto’s lap and watch choso’s favorite necklace reflect the purple light. it’s only after a revolution around the sun you realize you haven’t spoken, that you’ve done nothing but hover, a lot of drunk and a little high and a little nervous, between one man and the other. you mumble a yes in affirmation but it’s clear from the tension that choso doesn’t believe it. 

“oh, for fuck’s sake,” choso sighs. “come on, then. you’ve had enough for one night.” familiar arms lift you off the couch and you stumble, much like a baby gazelle, into the safety of choso’s chest. the room spins with the sudden change; you cling to him like a lifeline as you abandon the party to head upstairs. 

of course, bedazzled out of your mind, you do not question when choso leads you to the end of the hallway and over the threshold of his bedroom. it feels expected in a way, safe, as if the party had always been meaning to end here. as if there was no other place you should be.

“so?” choso asks, casually, shutting the door behind him with a damning click. “did you enjoy being a little whore with my brothers?”

his words take a long moment to settle in your ears. you’re caught in the swirl of euphoria in your brain, the black t-shirts scattered across the floor, the small houseplant you once bought him seated on the windowsill. it warms your heart to see it there, after all this time.

“well?” choso demands your attention. he takes your jaw in his hand and lifts your eyes to meet his gaze. his silver rings, imposing and cool on slender fingers, burn into your heated flesh like embers. his eyes swim with distaste and you know it’s your fault, somehow, but when the walls tilt and your rationality fogs over, you can’t quite pinpoint why.

“i–” your words catch in your throat. it’s clear, from the darkness in his eyes, from the way his nails dig into the soft flesh of your jawline, that anything you say to defend yourself will be futile. it’s choso’s world, you’ve always known, and even now, you’re merely living in it. 

“i invite my sister to see me, because i miss her,” choso’s words nestle themselves deep into your bloodstream, settling amongst the brandy and wine, “and she chooses to spend the night bending over for my brothers. how do you think that makes me feel?” 

it’s a look you know: a look that has haunted you for hours and days, a look that you know better than any other. it’s the look that guides the hand between your legs at night and the look you recreate in your mind’s eye when your vibrator just isn’t enough. you’re crumbling already, like sand beneath his touch.

“i’m sorry,” you say to him, but the words are soft and whispered things, shy beneath the weight of your own guilt and disappointment. “i didn’t mean to–” 

“no,” choso admonishes. he steps closer, guiding you backwards until his bedsheets brush the backs of your knees. “of course you didn’t. you’re still too dumb to know what you’re doing.” his voice, evenly condescending, hardly matches the gentle brush of his fingers as he moves to cup your cheeks. you close your eyes against it, savoring the shivers he sends across you body with every heartbeat, every movement. “still need your big brother to keep you in check.” 

you do not respond: he does not intend for you too. instead choso presses you back until you fall onto his bed, crawling over you to cage your body beneath him like a predator and its prey. your brain falters with the sudden movement, with the lateness of the hour and the depravity of your position, but you can do nothing but look at him with your helpless doe-eyes while something saccharine pools in your belly. 

“look at you,” choso says. “high out of your damn mind. good thing i caught you when i did. who knows what would have happened.” 

you believe him, you do, especially when choso dips his head to kiss you and demands your subservience. his tongue licks the aftermath of your cocktails from your lips and claims the expanse of your mouth, your teeth, your sanity. you let him take you, body and soul, even when you’re clamoring for air and freedom. there is no safety but choso’s lips, flavored with his cinnamon chapstick, no sacred home but the warmth of his mouth. 

“there’s my girl,” choso breathes, nose brushing against yours as he pulls back for air. “going to be good for me now? going to make it up to your big brother?” 

he doesn’t wait for a response; fingers dance along the silk of your blouse as he undoes each button, one by one, letting his fingers dip slyly against the newly exposed expanse of your collarbone and your chest and your stomach. you make no move to stop him, caught somewhere between choso’s aura and reality and time. 

(and maybe in another life you would have stopped him. maybe in another life you would have been ashamed. but it’s choso, your sworn protector and god among men, and you would be a fool to try and stop the one who knows best. he is safety, protection. who knows what would have happened if he hadn’t taken you away when he did.) 

“is this new?” choso asks, studying the curve of your bra as he rests against your hips. “who are you trying to impress?” 

it’s thin lavender lace, choso’s favorite. your face warms at the observation and you turn your head away, nestling among the sheets, as if you could escape choso’s eyes: but his fingers still trace the material and you can still hear him breathing and you know he will never look away. 

“i just got it,” you answer, humbled and mildly humiliated and certainly a little fucked up. the words are slow and imprecise as you stumble over your own tongue. “i wanted to…treat myself.” 

choso’s exploratory hands move from your bra to the waistband of your skirt. “could’ve just asked me,” he says earnestly, intently. “i would’ve gotten it for you.” 

your affirmative hum is lost when choso mindfully pulls your skirt down your legs and discards it somewhere in the shadows of the room. he says nothing of it, of the thin fabric or the way it flattered you just right. perhaps he is jealous of it. perhaps he does not want to remember the way his brothers looked at you when you wore it, the way geto’s hands caressed the places no other man should go.

“they match, i see,” choso gestures towards your underwear. terrified and knowing and aware that you’re growing damper with each passing minute, you press your thighs together. “they’re cute.” 

“t-thank you,” you whisper. “i… i got them for you. your favorite color.” 

he smiles, a precious and glorious thing, a smile that causes flowers to grow and birds to sing. you electrify at the sight of it, blissful only when he is. 

“i’d hope so,” choso says, “because i don’t think i could take it if this was meant for someone else.” 

he reaches over to the nightstand while his words claw through you. choso smells like cinnamon and safety and pleasure; your heartbeat quickens as his t-shirt brushes against you, as your world collapses into nothing but choso’s profile, his butterfly hair-clips and his glowing skin and his power. 

when choso settles back over you, resting against your thighs until you think you might die of it, something silver and shiny rests in his palm. you’d recognize it even if your eyes were closed, if the room were so dark that you couldn’t see if you tried. a searing and insatiable sensation lodges itself in your veins; it is fear personified, it is anticipation of a behavior you cannot even name. 

choso twirls his beloved switchblade deftly between his well-manicured fingertips. it reflects the low-light of the room. it calls out to you, the beautiful and dangerous thing, a siren’s song that promises both your misery and your fortune. choso’s face is relaxed, serene, as the envy and the fury seemingly melts away from him and leaves only a disinterested vessel behind. 

he lets you study it, lets you study him, and you know he’s pleased when he can feel your thighs tense, when you try so damn hard not to let choso know just how affected you really are. he shifts, grinding gently against your pelvis as he moves, causing you to bite your lip in a desperate attempt to surpress the gentlest of moans. 

“well,” choso says, disregarding the state he’s slowly working you into. he shifts down your body and runs a lackluster hand across the lacy expanse of your underwear. shivers pierce your navel, silver rings poison your skin. it’s all you can do to watch him, his heartless eyes and his casual form, as his thumb prods at the place where you underwear crosses your hip. “let’s get these off. i’d hate to have anyone else see you in them.” 

you feel the blade before you see it. cold, unfriendly, it rests against the gentle skin of your hip, a killer ready to take a life. a humiliatingly choked whine is out of your mouth before you can swallow it; your gasp reverberates throughout the room, the sound of one who knows they’ve lost a fight. 

“choso–” you breathe, but you don’t know quite what it is you’re asking him for. 

he doesn’t answer immediately, opting instead to tease you further with the blade as he presses it against you until goosebumps rise in chorus. your fingers curl in on themselves, desperate for purchase, while fear and longing hum everywhere in your being. 

“don’t worry,” choso says. “i’ll buy you more. now be good and stay still.” 

you want to writhe, to lash out and squirm beneath the intensity of the moment, but you fear choso’s disappointment more than you crave such release. your big brother choso has never been afraid to hurt you: to pierce the skin where it hurts, to draw blood where he means it. if you move, the blade will move with you. you know this as you know every scar choso has left behind. 

it’s agonizing, this pace. choso’s tongue peeks out from between his teeth as he works with the ease of a great master. it’s like watching paint dry, like waiting for grass to grow or continents to shift. he cuts away at the expensive lingerie you bought just last weekend like he has all the time in the world, like he does not care if the sun rises and you are still crying beneath him.

(and he does it, you know, because you’ve never been one to be patient.) 

“choso,” you whine, drawing his name out, long and frustrated, as if in song. “go faster.” your legs twitch in protest and the blade comes ever closer. 

“no.” choso does not even spare the kindness to look at you, his beloved little sister. “stop whining.” 

the rest of your complaints lodge in your throat. you fear disobeying him, so you grip the comforter like a lifeline, exasperated tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as the blade cuts through your clothes and ghosts across the bare skin beneath. it’s embarrassing, really, the way you can feel yourself becoming more and more desperate the further choso drifts away from you, the more he refuses to indulge. 

you wonder if he can sense the arousal on you, feel it, smell it, even, like you’re nothing but his own little plaything in heat. 

after an eternity, the blade finally cuts through your panties with a satisfying rip. the torn fabric sits pitifully against your hips, a reminder of your own subservience, until choso peels it away from you with enough condescension to move you to tears. the cool air of the room hits your thighs, your cunt, like a ghost who’s taken up residence beside you. 

blissfully unaware of your feelings, choso studies the remains of your ruined underwear, the thin fabric and the obvious stain of your arousal. locking eyes with you, he bring it to his nose for a brief and pleasurable inhale before he discards it somewhere on the other side of the room.

“there we are,” he says, as if he hadn’t just smelled yourself in front of you. “now no one will ever know about it but me.”

“choso,” you whimper, hot. it’s a gift and a humiliation to be beneath him like this, to shake with need and yet to be denied it, to ask for something, for anything, in a voice so unabashedly loud that anyone who passes by the door might hear it.

he ignores you, again, and turns his attention to your bra as it flutters against your fervent chest. you watch with wide eyes as the blade comes closer, closer, dancing against your ribcage and sending ice into your lungs until it slices through the front of your bra, down the center of your chest, like the thin fabric was made of nothing but water. 

“get rid of this,” he says; you listen. with quick and quivering fingertips you shimmy your way out of the delicate material and toss it over the side of the bed faster than the speed of sound. choso, pleased with your obedience, intently traces the curve of your breasts, thumbing your nipples until you find yourself arching into his touch. 

(choso, you mumble, eyes falling shut at the feeling. still, as always, he does not listen. he draws his hands away.) 

it kills you, the way choso’s eyes possess you, own you, dictate the movement in your bloodstream. it’s akin to being pulled along on marionette strings, a puppet of choso’s own design, made to dance for him and him alone. 

it’s the prize he deserves, your big brother, to own you and protect you, body and soul.

it’s that very intensity which moves you to misty tears, which causes your hands to fly out to meet him against your better judgement. choso lets you pleasure yourself for a moment with the texture of his t-shirt and the outline of his shoulders before brushing your hands away like unnecessary flies. 

“did you whore yourself out like this when you went to naoya’s?” choso prods. the patronization lies beneath feigned and genuine curiosity. there are no inflections, no signs of anger. this is how your big brother gets you, every time: it’s the neglect, the disinterest, that breeds your guilt. “are you really so easy for every boy that comes your way?” 

you shake your head and wish you could bury yourself further into the bedsheets. no, never. try as you might the first-year college boys here just haven’t been enough, the older ones too preoccupied with better cunts to look your way. 

“just because those guys are my brothers,” choso continues, shifting further and further down your body, spreading your legs until he can fit himself comfortably between them, “doesn’t mean i have to share everything with them.” 

“i’m sorry, choso,” you try again, “i’m sorry. i don’t want anyone else–” 

“that’s right,” choso interrupts. “you don’t need anyone else. no one is ever going to love you the way i do.” 

the way your big brother does, his eyes say, but he doesn’t have to voice it. you already know. it’s true that no one knows you better than choso does. no one understands your limits and your desires the way your brother has for as long as you’ve known him. no one knows how to caress you when you cry, how to run their tongue across your lips to silence you when you’re too eager. it’s always choso. it’s always been choso; but sometimes you’re just too much of a fool to see it. 

the blade, cool and demanding, presses against the soft flesh of your thigh, just below the hip. you twitch in surprise at the sensation and curl your toes to quell the ache in your cunt. it’s slick, weeping; you can feel it, the arousal, as it pools and pools and drips quietly onto the comforter. 

“choso, what are you–” you ask, breathily, pitifully, but choso’s quick glare reduces you into obedient silence. 

he licks the cinnamon chapstick on his lips. a stray hair falls across his eyes and kisses the dark line across his nose. he is love and danger, a cocktail of possession and surrender. “i think,” choso says, the words slow and thoughtful, “you need a reminder of who loves you the most.” 

a strangled cry escapes your lips when the blade pierces your skin just enough to draw blood. the sting travels up through your spine and fogs up your senses, causes your cunt to weep in horrible anticipation. it hurts, it does, the first cut, but still you find yourself waiting for more of it, more, in terror and lust and love. 

“choso–” you cry, a misty tear escaping out of the corner of your eye, but the call is met by another stroke, longer this time, drawn out, until your knuckles clutch the bedsheets so tensely they might as well turn to stone. 

“stay still,” choso admonishes amidst the burn of it. “you’ll hurt yourself.” 

as if you were the one in control. but you listen, obediently as always, and the alcohol from earlier combined with the need in your chest mixes together until your body is as taut as a desperate wire, until you no longer have control of yourself or your limbs. the knife cuts easily, choso’s hands as steady and precise as ever. you can feel the blood dripping onto his sheets like a series of hot tears.

it’s too much, all at once. it is a fire which destroys you, which renders every coherent thought into ash and causes you to sob nothing but drawn-out cries and pleads of choso’s name into the dark bedroom. he has you just where he wants you: pliant, dumb, obedient. if he asked you to fetch him a star, you would have asked him which one he needed.

choso’s tongue darts between his teeth as a steady hand continues its masterpiece. you sob unabashedly in reply with every stroke, with every flex of his fingers as he works his blade against your tender skin. and yet, as the pain grows, so does your need for something, for anything, for release; with every aching minute your cunt grows hotter and lonelier and emptier between your thighs. 

you crave something, anything, choso, perhaps even more than you wish for air.

“there you go,” choso says, just as you release another cry so piercing there’s no way even yuuji wouldn’t have heard it. “all done.” 

you sit up on your elbows to peer down at the masterpiece below your hip. smeared with blood, aching and raw from the blade, the word CHOSO spreads across your upper thigh in an uneven but heartfelt script. it makes you dizzy, this marking, this sign that no one owns you better than your sacred brother does. you wonder if it will leave a scar, if it will heal; and even more so, you wonder if choso will merely rewrite it, again and again, until every cell in your body knows that you are nothing without him.

you say nothing; a whine escapes your lips as your eyes flit from the mark to choso’s eyes, dark and possessive, as he looks back at you.

“you like it?” he asks, once again the sweet thing, the doting one.

“yes,” you whisper back, never one to lie to your perfect big brother. 

but you cannot hide the insatiability. choso notices the way your thighs twitch from the intensity, the way your cunt drools and your eyebrows furrow because you cannot relieve this ache on your own. you’re helpless, entirely at his mercy. choso tilts his head with a soft and unreadable simper at the sight.

“you’re really worked up, huh?” he pretends your distress is not blatantly obvious. he twirls the bloodstained knife between his fingertips for a moment before bringing the flat edge of the blade against his lips in a somber kiss. “this little thing’s got you down bad, i see.” he flashes the switchblade at you like a diamond. you watch, entranced, as choso slides his tongue across the metal until any traces of your blood disappear into his mouth. 

your belly’s on fire. the switchblade shines with choso’s spit and he smiles, your blood on his tongue, while he prods your legs apart, further, until you’re entirely open for him with nothing to hide. you whine lowly as choso’s eyes flicker between your eyes, dazed and helpless, and the slick on the bedsheets. 

“choso,” you repeat. “please, help me.” your eyes are wide and your voice is small and you crumble beneath the weight of your own needing, of your own body working of its own volition, of the high that collapses all over you. 

perhaps it’s the way you call for him, your big brother, in your time of need. perhaps it’s the way choso can never really deny you, even when he feigns disappointment or rage or neglect. he’s bound to you, your protector, and you can see in the way his eyes soften ever so slightly that choso will not deny you this request.

“sure thing, angel. let me clean this up for you.” choso’s voice is generous as he bows his face towards your hips with the reverence of one before the altar. he leaves no room for your answer. an eager tongue swipes across your thigh and laps at the blood which pools there. his movements are indulgent, refined, as he holds your legs open with intimidating palms and drinks you in like medicine.

“choso–” you gasp, unable to look away. his eyes flit back to meet yours in reply but he continues his ministrations, slow, teasing, as he ignores your cunt entirely and licks at the fresh wound until it’s finally, sacredly, clean. your newly beloved CHOSO glimmers with his spit when he pulls away. he smiles at you then, praying over your hips, lips stained red with your blood, with your being. 

“i may be their brother,” choso gestures towards the door, to the party which must still rage below, “but i’m your brother first, and now you’ll never forget it.”  

the words are followed by his tongue on your inner thigh, fervent this time, as he travels downwards, downwards from his name on your leg until his nose is a breath away from your clit. you thrust your hips towards him impatiently and he accepts it, gratefully, burying his face deep into your cunt like he’s searching for gold. choso lavishes your clit with plump lips and an eager tongue, drawing the bud into his mouth and kissing it until you cry, until your legs tremble as they ensnare him in your garden.

“choso–” you’re crying, voice transcendent throughout the frat house, his favorite song. there’s a tongue prodding against your hole and a silver ring on your clit and you lose yourself within it, within choso’s breath on your folds and the fire which erupts into chaos. 

when it comes to pleasing you, choso does not require air. he refuses to resurface as his tongue explores every inch, as he laps away at you with the passionate abandon only an older brother can provide. what you need, he needs, and what you desire most, choso is always willing to provide. he holds you steady as he works so you cannot escape him. he forces you into stillness as he abuses every sacred inch of your cunt, as he works you into a frenzy with his fingers and his tongue until you can think of nothing but wanting to cum. 

and then, then, at the precipice of pleasure, choso pulls away. you pause as you catch your breath, heartbeat like an earthquake, and recollect your shock. why has he stopped? where has he gone? you’re about to sit up, to feign sobriety, to demand what the matter is, when something cool and smooth presses against your clit.

choso’s cheek rests against your inner thigh as he presses the flat edge of the switchblade against your cunt. it’s cold and dangerous and sublime and you cannot help but think of the way it could ruin you, that if you shifted or choso wanted it everything could end here, now, forever. and it is this fear, coupled with the coolness of the blade suffocating your clit, with the alcohol in your bloodstream, that sends you into a place from which you may never return. 

the orgasm is as violent as a hurricane. the moment you tense and begin to quake with a strangled sob choso replaces the blade with his tongue and rides you through it, coating his lips with your cum and swallowing the vibrations and heightening the sensation until you are tortured by it, by the sting of pleasure and overstimulation and want. 

(“that’s it,” you think he says into your skin, but your ears ring too loudly to know. “cum for me, just like that.”) 

it takes some time for the waves to recede and for your body to become still again. with a head comprised of of jelly and limbs made of water you lie still, panting, as choso nonchalantly licks your slick from the switchblade with a hum and gingerly sets it back down on his dresser. you watch as he slides the belt out of his jeans and tosses it into the dark room, as he hovers above you like an angel and its lover. 

“better now?” he asks against your parted lips. you nod. he kisses you, deeply, a kiss made of iron and cum and blood, tongue swiping across your teeth before he draws the air from your lungs. your vision swims when he plants a kiss on the tip of your nose, your cheeks, your forehead, between your eyebrows. he plants his love until there is nowhere left untouched, until you are buzzing with the security only your brother choso can give you. 

“yeah,” you mumble back to him, content, satisfied. even the sting of his name on your body is a pleasantry now. 

“good.” choso wipes the perspiration from your brow. his jeans scratch against your pelvis, and it is only then that you finally register his cock, hard and eager, waiting patiently for its turn. it is only then that you realize choso’s lesson is not yet over, that your brother’s desperate need has only begun. 

“now,” he purrs, gently, lovingly, “can you show me how much you love me?”

(as always, forever, you do. you show him your love, endlessly, even when the party ends and the house falls eerily silent. you show choso everything, all of it, loyally, just as he asks, with an only you, choso, and a no one else loves me like you.

because although choso offers his love to the brothers downstairs, he will always, forever, be your brother first, til death do you part.)

[mrpenguinpants]

Childe: First Kiss HCs

I tend to make things gender neutral by not putting in pronouns and just using “you” but you can definitely read this as female^^ But I completely agree, I love this boy so much. He’s my favourite character to play (im so sorry razor) until Xiao comes out. I literally have a genshin team named “waiting for xiao” and it’s just Childe and Zhongli haha. 

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Today’s appreciation post goes to childes-starconch. Fitting that this is a Childe fic but ty for your support^^ I always notice you pop up as soon as I post a fic and I really enjoy seeing you. Hopefully you read this since tumblr won’t let me tag people, for whatever reason I don’t know anymore, but just saying hey, I see you 💕💕

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I’m just gonna piggy back off my last Childe fic. I’m sorry. 

Semi Part 1:  Fiance HCs [honestly, one of my favourites haha] 

Xiao Ver:  First Kiss HCs

Venti & Kaeya: Mistletoe HCs

Venti, Xingqiu, and Razor: Kissing HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​@youaskedfurret​ @snowy224 

@youaskedfurret​ @diaxfeliz​ @wintergreen-aix​ @dandelily​ @thegayrubberducky​ @lovelykittycatmeow​ @yuunoagivesmelife​  @dokidokisama @simpygrimoire @minakohasmanyhusbandos​ @strwbrry-lia    @tigerpriestess 

For some reason I can’t @ certain people. I’m talking to tumblr about it. 

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Childe: First Kiss HCs

Childe was never one to shy away from affection, be it holding your hand in his or wrapping an arm around you, he was always happy to be close to you. He was always a bit territorial which lead to some embarrassing situations for you but it was from a good place in his heart. But when it came to public kisses, he preferred to keep it between you two. It felt too private of a moment that he didn’t want to broadcast to the rest of the Fatui, especially to the other Harbingers. That is to say, if he actually kissed you in the first place. For all the two braincells Childe had, one was fighting and the other was protecting his loved ones, just imagining kissing you was too much for him and he needed to go find some poor recruit and beat his inner problems out. The Fatui recruitment process would always dwindled down during his inner turmoil sessions that Scaramouche himself, had to throw his goddamn hat at Tartaglia, and yell at him to hurry up and fix his problem. It was clogging up the air. 

When he tried to think about it, it shouldn’t be this hard to simply lean in for a kiss. But it was his first and while Childe might run into whatever danger or prospect of a fight without a second thought, he didn’t want to ruin it. What if he accidently bonked his forehead with yours? He should remove his mask then right? Just in case? He’s only given forehead and cheek kisses to his younger siblings so it should be the same right? Yeah he could do this, this was just another battle for Tartaglia to conquer! 

But whenever he would see you or you would both sit and bask in each other’s presences. He couldn’t bring himself to initiate something or heck, even looking at your face made him a bit hot under the collar in sub-zero temperatures. He can almost hear Scaramouche and Signora laughing maniacally at him behind their hands. He’s the youngest of the Harbingers, he should get a “get out of jail for free” card that all youngest children have whenever they get into trouble. But in this case it’s murder. He quickly slaps his cheeks to get his mind off fighting for one second which startles you beside him. 

The first time you’ve seen Childe shy was when he first confessed to you, stuttering that he liked you and just really badly wanted to hold your hand without using the frost of Sneznaya as an excuse. You flushed pink but nodded that you returned his feeling and slipped your hand in his. Whatever shyness Childe had was quickly wiped off his face and he cheered and brought you in for an eskimo kiss. Rubbing your nose with his as he laughed in joy, the tips of his ears and cheeks still coloured pink. You always hold that memory dear to your heart because not only was it the start of your relationship, it was the first time you felt you were staring at Ajax. Not Childe. Not Tartaglia. Just Ajax. 

But now, you’re not to sure what to call this. Lately he seemed to be out of it, always staring off into space or frowning at some poor poor snowmen that did not deserve that much pressure.  Was being a harbinger starting to take it’s toll on him? Did something terrible happen to his family or was the Tsaritsa being too hard on him? You were beginning to get concerned because you’ve never seen this much mental turmoil in him. This never really happened before and he usually bounced back pretty fast. Would it be better if you left him be and he sorted it out himself? Would it be better if you asked? 

Childe is startled out of his thoughts of possible committed murder because he’s too scared to ask his own partner if kissing was something they could do, when he felt your hand slowly nudge his. No matter how many times he holds your hand, you’re always warm. It could be snow storming outside and the only heater he would need would be you. He offers a small but warm smile as he laces his fingers with yours. He remembers when you first started going out he was so scared about boundaries and what was okay. Brushing your fingers together and overall, not doing a good job at saying he wanted to hold hands that even he cringes slightly at his younger self - even though it wasn’t that long ago and he’s doing it again just with kisses - but now he borderline clings to you like some overgrown animal. Scaramouche’s words, not his. 

It’s still evening in Snezhnaya and the Tsaritsa herself seems to be taking a vacation because there’s only a light snow falling down between the two of you. You’re both sitting outside his house while his family is inside, warm and having fun playing games. He breathes in, closes his eyes, and let’s the world fade away just a second. He slowly brings his other hand to cup your cheek, his hands are always numb and the tiny pin pricks are dancing on his fingers again before they fade away too, and guides you towards him so he can place a small kiss on your fore head. Then tilts your face to the side so he can kiss your cheek. Brings his nose near yours to nuzzle against. Then hesitates when his lips hover above yours. 

“Ajax is there something bothering you?” you ask softly, you’re so close to each other that all you can see is him. The small puffs of breathe you both take bounce off each other’s face before evaporating into the air. You never really took the time to appreciate Ajax’s bright blue eyes. His pupil from this distance seems to be slitted too. 

“Hm? Ah no, of course not. Where did you get that idea?” he tries to laugh it off and tries to move back before you quickly bring your hand to the back of his head and nudge him forward so he stays in place. It wasn’t like him to run away from something, it was really starting to bother you what could get Ajax of all people to retreat from something. 

“You know if there’s anything that’s bothering you, you can talk to me right?” you asked as you brought both your hands to cup his face as you softly rubbed circles just under his ear. He closed his eyes and hmmed happily at your actions and nuzzled further into your hand before turning his head inward to kiss your palm. Before relaxing and parting his eyelids half way as he seemed to be back in concentration mode. Before awkwardly saying what was troubling him these past few days. 

“So wait, you mean to tell me that this entire time I was worried about you. How out of it you were and how many fights you’ve been getting into. Was because you wanted a kiss?” you asked dumfounded as he pouted but nodded. You sighed but bonked your foreheads together softly, “You’re such an idiot....C’mere.” 

“Wha-” 

You grab the scarf on his harbinger uniform and tug him forward as your lips slot over his. You kiss him hard and for a few seconds as Ajax just stares at you as his brain tries to catch up, before his eyes seem to dilate and he kisses you back just as hard. All his past worries are quickly thrown out the window as slowly pushes you on your back, cushioned by the soft snow, as he basks in the feeling. It’s a bit sloppy given this is both your first kisses but that’s what adds to the charm. You both have to separate at some point for oxygen but Childe looks like he’s ready to dive in again. 

“One more,” he pants as he goes in for another but you quickly place your hand in the way so he ends up kissing your palm. He whines but you chuckle at him, place a small kiss on the back of your palm of where his lips would be, and push him off you. You’re both still outside his families home and you aren’t in the mood to be caught in this kind of position. Especially not in front of his younger siblings. He rests his cheek on your shoulder and looks at you, trying to make his eyes bigger and look like a kicked puppy. You sigh as you give a small pet on his head, running your fingers through your hair. What a troublesome partner you’ve gotten. 

“Alright, one more.” 

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My entire taglist was just made for the  “Enemies” to “Lovers” post and I still haven’t started hehe. Trust me, it’s coming. I’ve got requests for it and we’re slowly getting there. The entire time I’m writing this I’m just thinking “honey..no, that’s not how this works.” God you’re so dumb. I hate you. You’re my favourite character. Pour one out for Xiao, I was going to make this a crack fic too but ended up making it somewhat serious. 

So yeah, xiao is a cat and childe is a fox. In other news, water is wet. But I did actually google fox behaviors just for this shitpost. ALRIGHT TIME TO SPIN THE WHEEL OF “WILL TUMBLR BE NICE TO ME?” OR DO I NEED TO DOUBLE REPOST AGAIN. 

[undercover-trio]

De request

First "I love you" with Team RWBY? The more tooth rottingly fluffy, the better. They/Them pronouns? Thanks, I love your works.

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Aw shucks, thanks Anon, I’m glad my works are to your liking

✨✨（*´▽｀*）✨✨

I’ll make this as sweet as I can, so sweet even I feel the sweetness radiating from my phone.

o(-`д´- 。)

-Mod Pengie

Art is by mistEcru

(。･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

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Ruby

You twiddled with the music box in your hand, it was fairly small yet still quite beautiful. The rose design it had along with wines tracing along its silver surface, much alike the quality of those in stores.

Yet you made it, you created the music sheets after sleepless days, trying to translate Ruby’s favorite song into a music sheet. You studied the parts of music boxes through your scroll, you nicked your fingers many times as you shaped the metal for the box.

You worked hours on end to purchase the materials, sure it cost more to build a music box than buy one but you wouldn’t let yourself. Ruby had helped and supported you through so much, you wanted her to feel even a drop of the appreciation you felt towards her.

You did have many busts when it came to making them but you felt so proud the moment when you could make a successful one. Your head remembered the sound of her favorite song by memory given how much you played it on the music box to get it right.

As you walked towards Ruby’s dorm you felt nervous, not by the chance you’d be caught by the night guard, he already gave you permission to go.

You really hoped Ruby liked the gift, you put your all into it, it was in a cute red box with a f/c(favorite color) ribbon tying it.

The moment you knocked on her dorm door you felt all your worries wash away, you weren’t the type to have doubts. You knew Ruby, she was a precious and sweet girl who deserved the world.

You smiled at Yang as she opened the door, you looked slightly nervous and a bit tired with light bags under your eyes. It didn’t stop the genuine love she could feel coming from you, she opened the door wider to let you in as she smiled at the gift.

Ruby had her nose in a textbook, looking cutely focused as you chuckled, that caught her attention. She noticed her other three teammates walked out the dorm, leaving you and her.

“Y/N? What’s up!” She greeted cheerfully, you took off your shoes and stepped on Weiss’ bed. Ruby focused on how the candle light enhanced your features.

She looked curious as you handed her a box, you smiled and nodded at her to open it.

And she did, her eyes glossed up at the beautiful music box in front of her. She observed every detail, her being more flattered as she saw every thought you put into it.

“Play it.” You encouraged, your voice mellow from your tiredness, it was due to the hour and how much work you put into her gift.

She twisted the knob and listened to the song with you, while it wasn’t as professionally done as the ones she’d see in shops it was still welcoming.

She came to the realization you made this as her keen eyes observed the craftsmanship and details, it wasn’t impossible given you two first met in a workshop.

As the song ended her eyes were watery, this song was her favorite, it was her and her mother's song.

Red like Roses..

“I love you Ruby..I was just too nervous to say it till now, I wanted to make it special as well.

Her heart melted at your mannerism, your gift, your love, just everything in this moment.

She quickly jumped down from her bunk and tackled you into a heartfelt hug, you were a blushing and stuttering mess but she couldn’t help it.

She loved you so much in this moment.

She’s loved you for a long time.

“I love it- I love you- I just-“ Ruby was fumbling over her sentence, her feelings were overflowing.

You sat up and hugged her back, she tucked her head into your neck as she kept repeating how much she loved you.

You loved her too, and you felt fulfilled knowing that she knew.

——————————

Weiss

-Before Weiss heads to Beacon cause I wanna be unique

Weiss… was perfect in aristocratic standards, she behaved impeccably, was talented and had the charisma.

Her silvery hair never failed to perk your interest, the way all her moves were calculated and graceful. Her eyes were a beautiful sky blue, they were probably what drew you in the most.

They were free, they were bright and daring, you weren’t sure when exactly you realized your fondness of her, it just happened.

While you weren’t the most poor aristocrat you certainly weren’t the most rich. It kept you grounded, you had always been level headed yet when it came to her.. you felt all sensible thinking fade.

Perhaps that was what made you follow her to the balcony that night, you remember how you froze when you watched her beautiful features be illuminated by the shattered moon.

Her expression made you pause for a second, with a defeated smile you could help but think she didn’t belong here. An angel can’t be kept in a cage after all.

“Why the long look?” You asked, your behavior genteel as always. Sky blue met e/c, your heart beat fast at the eye contact.

To think you were only 12 at the time.

You and Weiss became acquainted, slowly it turned into friendship, you couldn’t help but admire her.

She really was a beauty among thieves, you loved it when she laughed and joked. Your heart broke when she looked defeated or down, you always strived to be there for her as she did you.

Yet.. secrets can’t always be kept forever, white lies are soon seen through, you weren’t an opaque wall rather than a tinted glass.

“I’m leaving.”

Such a simple sentence from her managed to change your mood tremendously, yet even then as you turned to meet her precious blue eyes..

You couldn’t bring yourself to stop her, she deserved to be free.

“I see.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say more without your voice breaking. She raised her eyebrow at your seemingly relaxed response, yet Weiss was perceptive.

“I’m sorry Y/N.. I just can’t keep being grouped with my family anymore.” Her voice cracked with guilt and pent up aggression, you could feel her emotions about to overflow.

Two warm hands were placed on her cheeks, Weiss couldn’t help but lean into their comfort, you gently brushed away her tears.

“Weiss, look at me.” She hesitantly looked at your face, she didn’t say a word of how it made her heart skip a beat.

“I’ve known..for a long time you don’t belong here.” You started, Weiss could only listen to the cadence of your voice as she put her hands on both your wrists.

“You were made for adventure, a thrilling life with people who care about you.” The more you spoke the less coordinated your words became, she knew you cared about her. You wished for her to get the affection she truly deserved, with the amount of people she should.

It shouldn’t just be you.

“Weiss, when I look into your eyes I see the sky.. I see freedom.. I see many beautiful things.” Her cheeks tinted at the words, you noticed, she always got like that when praised.

“And freedom isn’t caged, it's the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint.” She smiled wryly as she knew you quoted the dictionary, you always did when it came to words that struck you.

“Therefore.. I support you, I’ll even aid you if need be.” Her heart warmed at your words, you were always there for her, speaking and looking at her as if she were the most precious thing.

She couldn’t help her next action.

Her arms wrapped around your shoulders as her lips made contact with yours, they were soft. Her lips were pushed against yours as she tried to convey how she felt to you, smiling slightly when you wrapped your arms around her waist.

When you two separated you met her eyes, they looked back at you lovingly, the way you would always look at her.

“I love you Y/N/N.” She admitted with a smile, you were surprised and delighted. You couldn’t help the way your face melted into a sweet grin.

“And I you, Weiss.”

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

You met with an Angel at twelve

And with your affections you delve

The closest of friends at fifteen

Something you’d never foreseen

A kiss goodbye at seventeen

As you watched her break from her routine

——————————

Blake

Blake was scared of your affection sometimes, not that she was scared of you as a person.

It’s just that she was hurt and emotionally scarred so many times and it was hard to heal. Her emotional state was equivalent to a paper that had been crumpled then straightened out.

The marks were still there.

She wasn’t sure she could recover if you turned out the same way Adam did, yet every time you looked at her with love in your eyes she just couldn’t help but stick with you.

She felt ashamed she would always lose her voice when she would try and say she loved you, it made her think of Adam.

You noticed this of course, and every time without fail you would give her a smile and tell her it’s fine. Sure it hurt a bit but you loved Blake, you knew of her past, her emotions and traumas.

You loved every bit of her.

She had come into your dorm late one night, she was busy at the library due to the Torchwick situations. Yet she felt her heart rate increase at your sleeping face, you always were the most beautiful person to her.

Then she heard it.

“...love you..Blake.”

You had murmured it in your sleep, she knew that you loved her, she knew that you refrained from telling her that because you loved her.

Her reaction wasn’t what she expected though, instead of the dreaded fear she thought she would have she instead had a feeling of comfort, ecstasy even.

Her emotions had already come to accept that you loved her, that you weren’t Adam.

She teared up a bit of the realization, they weren’t sad tears but ones of pure and genuine delight.

While she was on her high she sat next to your body and shook you awake, you drowsily looked at her. With a sleepy smile you lift up your hoodie a bit and let her sneak underneath it.

You called it ‘Hoodie Time’, Blake found it as a good way to calm down and relax if she listened to your heartbeat.

And the added bonus she liked being in small spaces.

She felt you stroke her hair as she listened to the cadence of your heart, it was slightly fast and it only flattered her.

“Want to talk Kitten?” You asked, Blake usually did this when she was stressed. You didn’t mind though, you thought it was quite cute.

She shook her head no as she kept her right human and cat ear on your chest.

“I just wanted to say” she started as you rubbed circles on her back to keep her calm. She felt slightly nervous but your action did help.

“I love you.” She got it all out in one breath, she grew slightly worried as she noticed you stopped rubbing her back. She shook her head, you weren’t Adam and you’d never be, you were Y/N.

Her worries ended when she saw how happy your face was, you looked as though you struck gold.

You looked at her as if she just gave you the world, you didn’t want her to worry, you quickly pecked her forehead since it was fairly close to your lips.

“I love you too Blake.” You began, then you started tearing up. “I’m glad you trust me enough to say this.”

She was flabbergasted at how genuinely loving your reaction was, it made her all the more warm inside, she loved your way of love.

She loved you.

She always would.

——————————

Yang

You smiled as you felt the wind brush against your hair, the city lights always looked perfect in the night. Unfortunately the police sirens weren’t that pleasant, then again, your favorite blonde is the one who is driving right now.

She took a sharp right as you grasped onto her stomach tighter, her muscles tensed at the feeling. The feeling of your fingers brushing against her stomach caused her to lose focus for a minor second.

At least until you snapped her out of it.

“Yang!! Bascule bridge is splitting right now!!” You alerted her, her lilac eyes noticed the ship trying to pass, she immediately increased the motorcycle speed.

Unlike with Ruby, Blake and dear oum.. Weiss, you wouldn’t get scared or mad when she invited you on a thrill ride. You enjoyed it and participated, it surprised her at first given you were a pretty mellow and sweet individual.

She smiled as she heard you gasp in excitement as you two were on the motorcycle mid air, the gradient of the bridge was more than enough to lose the cops and make it to the other side.

You treasured how her hair seemed to fly in slow motion, the moon illuminating the whole scene.

The landing was a bit rough, but thanks to your semblance, aerokinesis, you guys didn’t crash into oblivion. It did slightly exhaust you to slow the velocity you guys were falling at however the adrenaline sure helped.

Luckily there were only minor scratches to bumblebee, unfortunately you both just realized that the way back to Beacon was on the other side of the bridge.

“So Yang.. how would you feel sleeping on a random roof?”

Yang merely laughed at the question and slapped your back, she was on board with it.

That question eventually led to the two of you being on a flat roof, Bumblebee was hidden in a bush right below you guys. You could use your semblance to bring you and Yang up but the bike was a bit too much for you right now.

“Best Joy ride ever!” Yang laughed out with a huge grin on her face, you chuckled at her antics and gave her a fist bump. You guys relaxed for a bit, nearing sleep before Yang turned to you, her eyes looked determined.

“Serious though, I’m glad I have you Y/N/N, I’m not able to do these things with anyone else without being called brash and dumb.” You frowned at the last words, without speaking you merely grabbed her hand as you looked at the star signs.

Ursa Major, quite ironic given you have an overprotective bear hugging friend next to you at the moment.

“Yang.. before I met you I wasn’t able to be myself, while I’m not necessarily as… extroverted as you.. my parents didn’t like my need for thrill.” You told her as you grasped her hand tighter, she too frowned at your words.

“But then I met you… this amazing, lively person, the day you first invited me to a ride like this.. I felt happy.” She blushed at your description of her yet you kept going.

“You’re not dumb, maybe a little brash but you’re still a ray of sunlight that came into my life..and I love you for it.” Your face turned crimson as you admitted those last words, she paused as she came to terms with what you said.

The two of you were still lying down as she raised her arm, you closed your eyes as she patted your soft hair.

“Gee.. you could’ve just told me you loved me..then again you wouldn’t be my Y/N if you didn’t speak a lot to get a point across.” She laughed as you started snickering at her words too, her eyes caught sight of yours as they held contact.

“I love you too Y/N.” She smiled brightly as she brought you in for a kiss, you couldn’t help but beam with happiness as well.

You loved Yang a lot, you loved her thrilling, welcoming self. And she loved you as well.

——————————

Heyo! It’s me Pengie, sorry for the late upload of this, school kept me busy, luckily Fine Line by Harry Styles came in my life(slowed down cause I’m like that) added to the angst but nyeh

Anyways I hope your teeth rotted lol, I love you simps and have a good day!

[mauvefayette6]

They Love Him ... (Todd Anderson x GN!Reader)

master list

(They/them pronouns)

Todd Anderson is know to be the shyest person at Welton Academy. He has friends, not many, but he has friends. His best friend is Neil Perry, arguable the most popular at Welton Academy and one of the smartest there.

Neil was always in the spotlight, parties, football, and on stage. Todd didn't like being in Neil's shadow, even his parents would compare the two.

"why can't you be more like neil?"

"where did we go wrong as parents?"

"you should learn something from neil"

It went on and on, his parents never let it go and Todd began to become frustrated.

That's until a new student came to Welton Sophomore year. Oh and they were just so breathtakingly attractive.

They played sports, were in hundreds of clubs, their hair shined, and they were outspoken and kept their head high.

It was safe to say that Todd had fallen in love with them the second he set eyes on them. But again, Neil was always first when it came to making friends.

They followed Neil and Todd everywhere, parties, clubs, during lunch, breakfast, and dinner. Everywhere they went they followed along.

Todd didn't mind, in fact he loved having them around. That's until Neil got close to them.

"want to go to a party?"

"going to the game?"

"oh! you're joining the play?"

Todd felt jealousy creeping and wasn't very happy.

"Hey Todd, want to go to a party with Neil and I?" They would ask. Neil never protested, Neil adored Todd.

"Oh, sure! I'd um.. really like to." Todd would smile and follow them to wherever the party was.

"You'll love it there. Knox's girlfriend invited us, and well I love it when it's the three of us." They would smile at Todd causing him to blush.

"Oh, thanks for inviting me then." Todd would shyly smile looking at the floor before Neil would chime in.

"We're close, just a few more blocks!"

Soon enough they arrived at the party where unfortunately they all separated.

Neil walked to Knox who was with a group of people.

(Y/n) walked over to Chris and a group of girls.

And Todd, well Todd just sat down on a couch where a group of couples were making out.

A drunk high school student stumbled his way next to Todd offering him a drink.

"No thank you." Todd said.

"I sense a sad energy here, most likely coming from you innit? What's your deal?" The high schooler would ask.

"There's no issue. Never has been." Todd muttered as the high school rolled his eyes.

"The names Jake, I go to Ridgeway, you?" Jake asked taking a sip from his drink.

"Todd." He replied.

Todd looked around before spotting (Y/n), they were standing there drink in hand laughing and chatting.

"You like them don't you?" Jake said taking another sip of his drink. Todd scoffed looking away before turning back to look at them.

Just as he turned to look at them Neil inched closer to them and put his arm around their shoulder laughing.

"They like him..." Todd sighed turning away not wanting to look at them. It pained him how unable he was to just talk to them, just tell them, it couldn't hurt.

"You should tell them." Jake whispered taking another sip of his drink before standing and stumbling away.

'You should tell them' rang in his ears, as if mocking him.

Todd stood up and left the party. The cold air hit him instantly as he made his way back to Welton. He wasn't going to stay another minute at a place he knew he wasn't welcomed at.

Besides he wasn't invited so why should he be there?

"Todd!" Someone called his name but he didn't turn, he continued to walk. He heard loud foot steps nearing him before he was yanked and forced to face the individual.

"What?" Todd asked angrily.

"Excuse me. I should be the mad one here, what the hell?" They said, Todd glared at the ground scoffing to himself.

"Why does it matter? It's not like my presence was needed. You and Neil could've managed just fine." Todd said allowing a fee tears to fall from his blue eyes.

"Todd quit being dramatic. We invited you because we obviously wanted you there!" They shouted letting go of Todd's arm.

Todd looked into their eyes, Carpe Diem. Todd placed his hand on their cheek and brought them in for a kiss.

(Y/n) was surprised to sag the least but kissed back immediately. They deepened the kiss their hand now on both of Todds cheeks.

It was a while before they bulled away, Todds face pink and hot. (Y/n) place their forehead on Todds and with a smile they pecked his lips.

"Bold. I like the bold Todd Anderson. I thought you would never kiss me." They laughed placing their hand on Todd's hand.

"I-" Todd began but was cut off by (Y/n) placing their lips on his, he kissed back and thats how it went.

They'd pull away smile, laugh then kiss again, long pecks, short pecks. It was cold and Todd's nose turned pink. They headed back to the party where a drunk Neil was dancing on the table sloppily singing to "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen.

[oogaboogasphincter]

Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn (Ezra x f!reader)

Summary: Staying in a hotel on Puggart Bench while in between expeditions has given you and Ezra a lot of time to develop your relationship both emotionally and physically. On your last night before you depart for your next trip together, you decide to try out one of Ezra’s kinks. Your heartstrings aren’t the only things that will be getting tied up this evening. 

Word Count: 6.8k+

Rating: E (explicit) 18+ ONLY! because this is like 80% smut

Warnings: mild allusion to a rocky relationship from this oneshot (both partners have made up and are now in an established relationship), smut, soft-ish bondage (f gets tied up), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (obvi use protection irl please), dirty talk, swearing, a hand on a throat but no choking, one (1) instance of ✨spitting✨, questionable kink shaming??💀(a joke is made about daddy kinks), comma splice, atrocious metaphor and repetitive sentence structure galore. also no beta reader, and reader uses she/her pronouns and is afab. 

Author’s Note: this is my first smut fic! i really appreciated all of the positive feedback that i got on my first fic (💚), so i thought i would do a smutty follow-up to it! if you haven’t read it and you’d like to, you can read it here. i tried my best to make this fic readable as a standalone oneshot though, so if you’d like to do that, that’s cool too! :) i think the only things new readers need to know are that Ezra’s nickname for the reader is Goose, and The Blue is a moon, like The Green, that Ezra, Cee and the reader traveled to in my last fic. also i reference the traffic light system a lot more in this fic than i have personally read in other fics, just because i feel like it’s a great way of checking in on your partner during sex. i know it might get a lil annoying after a while, but i think it’s important to keep it up. i also wanted to include it in my first fic bc even though i might not use it explicitly in my next fics, i want it to be understood that I think it’s super important to continue to check on your partner, etc. also i apologize if the smut isn’t “realistic”, as your writer is 100% a virgin skjfskdj💀 i don’t think that means that i don't know/can't learn how to write some smut though! however i would just keep that in mind💀, and i hope you enjoy it! :)🍀💜

p.s. i'd like to say thank you to @martinsmomo​ one more time for giving me the amazing request for my first fic! 💕

gif by @skyshipper

“Go to the bedroom, strip to your underwear and wait for me.”

The patch job of your relationship with Ezra on The Blue was a success. Spending an equal amount of time with him alone, alone with Cee and as a trio boosted your strength as a group. The awkward silences and argumentative expeditions around The Blue were no more, and were replaced with friendly banter and jovial hikes. You and Ezra had made up so much that you had started to express your affection for one another physically. 

On every third day or so, Cee would go out on a trip alone, needing some time to herself. It wasn’t that she couldn’t stand the two of you - although you and Ezra occasionally found joy in pushing her buttons - but she enjoyed doing activities by herself. It made her feel like she was fortifying her transition from teenager to young adult. You and Ezra couldn’t have agreed more and supported her independent decisions. 

And on every third day or so, her absence from the pod allowed your courage to physically engage with Ezra to grow. The two of you had kept it to a minimum, not wanting Cee to notice any blushing cheeks or sweaty foreheads or panting chests when she would return. The majority of your time was spent just cuddling in positions that were a little too sexually charged to be considered platonic: a leg wound around a waist here, a hand gripping an ass there. The heaviest moment you had had was during a makeout session. 

While lying down in Ezra’s makeshift bed and mingling tastebuds, you had hiked one of your legs up and over his hips. Soon after, you felt the tip of his cock poke the underside of your thigh. He couldn’t have been harder. You dared to relieve some of his pent up arousal while still maintaining some semblance of innocence and released your grip on his hair, slid your hand down his broad chest and slipped it underneath your leg to get to his erection. You held it and ran your fingers over the tip of it, then along its length, hoping to get a good idea of what your pussy would have to take on at some later time. The moment Ezra felt the light weight of your hand, he moaned deeply into your mouth. He had then broken your kiss and warned, “Goose, in all seriousness, you should highly consider concluding your investigation unless you want to throw me into a pit of agonizing embarrassment.”

You teased, his clothed cock still in hand, “Ezra, I think we should stick to swallowing each other’s tongues and not speaking in them.” 

He had hummed in delight and grinned at you, then sighed, “Okay then, in your plebeian lingo: if you don’t stop rubbing my cock, I’ll cum in my pants.”

You both erupted in laughter, and you had snaked your hands back up his body and entangled them in his hair, taking his tongue in your mouth once again. 

After your departure from The Blue, your gang had decided to stop on Puggart Bench and decompress for a while. Cee wanted to hang out with her friends before they all went their separate ways in their new adult lives, Ezra wanted to repay the loan he had taken out for his prosthetic arm and you wanted a real bed to sleep in. Not a pilot’s chair, not a bundle of blankets on a metal floor, but a real bed. With a mattress, a comforter, a nice set of sheets, a plethora of blankets and pillows. A two bedroom suite in Puggart Bench’s most prestigious hotel was what the three of you had booked for two months before another orbiting moon made its way into the Bakhroma System for the three of you to explore. Your group had engaged in some nice, familial-like activities, nourishing your found family dynamic. 

You and Ezra had also spent quite a bit of time getting to know each other physically. While Cee would spend the day with her friends, you and Ezra never left your bed. Well, technically Ezra left the bed when he would stand, pull you to the very edge of it and subsequently use his newfound balance to pound into you with abandon. Your body hadn’t left the sheets, even when you knelt on the floor and took Ezra down your throat; your back pushed against the side of the mattress with every one of his thrusts. 

Fast forward to the present day, and it is the last day you are on Puggart Bench before you leave for The Indigo, the new moon in town. Cee is spending the night at her friend’s house, where she will be having one last sleepover with all of the girls she won’t have the chance to connect with for an undetermined period of time. You feel guilty for looking forward to her leaving because you can only imagine what your bedroom will see of you and Ezra tonight. 

While he washed your hair after a particularly exertive romp, Ezra had hinted that he had a kink that he wanted to try out with you. Without a definite return date from The Indigo, he offered that the two of you try it before you left for the moon, his desires getting the best of him. He never elaborated on what the kink is, as the both of you got entranced with washing the rest of your bodies. You plan on bringing it up tonight in the hopes of coming to a decision of whether or not you two have the patience to wait to test it out or not. 

The two of you are now putting on a facade of patience as Cee packs her things in her room. You sit in between Ezra’s legs on the couch, back to his torso, both of you reading a different book. The text fails to retain your attention, so you place a finger on the page you are on and fold it over. You shift your head against Ezra’s chest to look up at him, pupils dilating immediately as they take him in. Black thick-rimmed reading glasses grace his face, the only indication in his rugged appearance that he would be a bookworm. He glances down from his book to meet your eyes, smiling at you. He brings his right hand down, brushing the back of the dark grey metal against your cheek. You smile back at him, and a naughty thought pops into your brain. 

With your free hand, you find Ezra’s cock in an instant and palm it through his pants. His mouth drops in blissful surprise, but he’s quick to sit up and yank your hand away from his now hard dick. He snaps out a whisper, “Patience, Goose,” and places a light kiss to your temple. He gets up and walks away, afraid that you would just try to place your hand right back where it was. He was also afraid that he wouldn’t have the strength to stop you the next time. 

Suitcase clips clap from Cee’s bedroom, and moments later she walks into the living room. You look up at her from the back of the couch: still pouting that Ezra shooed you away, and he looks up at her too, standing behind the kitchen counter: hiding his erection. You both fight through your mutual embarrassment and smile at her, noticing her excitement. She beams at the two of you, suitcase in hand, and raises her shoulders, “Well, I’m going to go now.” 

She starts to walk to the door and Ezra follows her, putting a hand on her shoulder, “Have a good time, Sparrow. We’ll swing by and scoop you up tomorrow afternoon.” 

Cee smiles up at him, “Will do.” 

Ezra retracts his hand and puts both in his pockets, “We hate to bar you from seeing your friends and leading a more stable life, but we really do find solace in your company on our travels. It keeps us grounded, as much as one can be on an orbiting moon.” 

She turns so that she faces both of you, “No, that’s okay. I really enjoy being with you guys. You’re like a family that I got to pick.”

Tears threaten to run down your cheeks as you get up and rush over to her to give her a tight hug. She returns your embrace and Ezra follows shortly behind, encasing both of you in his arms. He draws giggles from his girls by placing a kiss on each of your heads, and after a moment of relishing in your found family, you all release one another. Cee says her final goodbyes, opens the door and closes it behind her, giving you and Ezra one last final smile of departure. 

You feel ashamed by the amount of heat that floods your genitals as soon as you hear the lock of the door click closed. Ezra, ever sensitive to your every mood change, pulls you in close and presses his forehead to yours, “You know we have to wait, Goose.” You nod, all too familiar with your routine once Cee left. You would wait and listen for her to walk down the hallway to the elevators, press the down button, wait for the doors to open, walk inside the chamber once it arrived, wait for the doors to close and finally start to descend to the ground floor. You did so out of respect for her; you and Ezra would never be able to forgive yourselves if she were to, for example, forget something and come back to find the two of you in the middle of some heated relations. 

Ezra’s fingers massage your shoulder blades as you anticipate the sound of the elevator opening, fully aware that he was not only dissipating any nerves you have but spurring your arousal on as well. He knows that thoughts of his fingers traveling elsewhere swarm your brain as he alternates the pressure his fingertips give you. With this knowledge, unbeknownst to you, he’s thinking about what his first order for you will be tonight. Would he introduce the kink that he alluded to the other day? Does he just want a night of repeating your default, mind-blowing agenda? How would you feel about reversing roles, and have you be his dominant and him your submissive? 

The ping of the elevator down the hall snaps him out of his trance. You eagerly await the whir of the elevator going down, and seconds later your wish is granted. Ezra lets go of you and steps back, eyes raking up and down your body twice before telling you, “Go to the bedroom, strip to your underwear and wait for me.” Such straightforward instructions to come from such an elaborate man. Ezra doesn’t waste a second in giving you seductive orders the moment he hears the elevator descending, his hunger to devour you reaching unbearable levels. With your appetite consisting of the same ferocity, you follow his instructions and go to your bedroom. Plopping onto the bed and laying on your back, you kick your shoes off, shimmy out of your pants and slide your shirt up and over your head, tossing the items to the chair in the corner of the room where you and Ezra kept your clothes. You found it humorous that he, like you, implemented the “chair of discarded clothing” into his life. 

Now in just your underwear and socks (Ezra had relayed to you that it is statistically easier to orgasm while wearing socks), you reach over into the nightstand and pull out a necktie. You had been rewarded with such powerful orgasms at the hands of Ezra - literally - that you often couldn’t hold in your cries no matter how hard you tried. The necktie’s usual resting place was in between your teeth, tied around your mouth in an effort to muffle yourself out of courtesy of your neighbors. Ezra’s mouth remained ungagged; the neighbors must’ve thought that he was trying out some new rigorous exercise regime with all of those heaves, grunts and... moans? What sort of move would cause his headboard to repeatedly knock on the wall? 

You sit and rub your thumbs on the buttersoft navy silk of the tie, patiently awaiting Ezra’s entrance into the room and later your cunt. A few moments later he comes in and shuts and locks the door behind him, an emergency precaution to protect the eyes of Cee or any intruding employee. He comes over and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. You glide over to him like a magnet and figure out a part of his kink after taking a quick glance into his hands, seeing that he’s holding rope. Black rope, to be exact, of varying lengths. He notices your quizzical brow and asks, “Spill your thoughts, Goose.” You gingerly reach out and touch the rope with your index finger, your vision moving in loops as you trace the coils. You look up and meet his eyes, those warm, curious, assuring windows to his soul that you love ever so dearly. You question, “Do you like to be tied up or do you want to tie me up?” 

He displays a faint smile, “I’d find great satisfaction in tying you up. However, I would be a liar if I claimed that the thought of you restraining me and having your way with me never joyfully crossed my mind.”

You sit there in silence, taking in his desires. You are most definitely up for this, you just approach every new romp with hesitation. You hadn’t been a virgin the first time you slept with Ezra, but no one had ever made you feel so good. So open, exposed, on display, in all the right ways. You had been set ablaze by his confident maneuvers, calmed ever so coolly by his doting ministrations. He had drowned you in his passionate love, and you had loved every single fucking second of it. It just got a bit overwhelming at times, which he would take notice of and promptly give you your time and space when you needed it. 

The rope intimidates you. It was smooth to the touch on the pad of your finger, but you could already imagine the uncomfortable burns it could give you. The tightness and thickness of the coils add to the fantasy of being completely immovable, but it also plants doubts in your mind. You voice your concerns to Ezra, “I’d love for you to tie me up, but I don’t think I’d like to start with rope.”

He cups your cheek lovingly, “Always one step ahead of me, Goose,” and picks up an end of the necktie in your lap. He rubs it with you, “I don’t want to start with the rope on you, either. I want us to work up to it.” He pats your cheek and holds up the rope in his hands, “I mean, it does look a little scary, doesn’t it?” Your newfound ease lets itself out of your lungs with a giggle, mirrored by Ezra. He turns and puts the rope on the seat at the foot of your bed, and you climb into his lap as he turns back around and cover his mouth with yours. Falling back onto the bed, his arms wrap around you like a snake and constrict you to his body. You grind your pussy onto his clothed torso, desperate for some friction, your soft moans tumbling down his throat. 

He has to pull you away from his mouth by the back of your neck, “Let me take my clothes off, sweet girl.” He gives you a chaste kiss before you roll off of him and let him stand to strip. As he gets naked, you remove your panties in a flash, and he quizzes you, “Color system?”

“Green for when I’m enjoying it, yellow for when I’m being pushed to my limits, red for when I’ve reached my limit and need you to stop.” 

“Good girl. What’s our safe word?”

“Magpie.”

“Excellent. Are you ready?” he asks as he pulls his underwear down and repeats your earlier action of throwing the discarded clothes onto the chair in the corner. 

You nod fervently, “Yes sir.” 

He sighs as he walks over to the edge of the bed and kneels, “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Goose, you don’t have to call me that. I feel fulfilled enough in my domination with the heavenly noises your precious body emits.” 

You shrug, “It’s just natural. It’s a good girl formality, Ez. Aren’t I a good girl?”

He raises an eyebrow as he hooks his hands behind your knees and pulls your legs over the bed so you’re sitting on the edge, “I don’t think good girls let their neediness get the best of them and just fondle cocks out in the open.” You let out a devious laugh, noting his reference to your sneak attack on the couch, and he takes the necktie from you.  Your fingers run through his hair for a moment before he gently takes your wrists, smiling up at you. 

He reaches up to kiss you, and after your lips part he mumbles against them, “I’m just going to tie your hands together now, okay?” 

You nod, “Okay.” 

He gives you another wholehearted kiss before sitting back on his feet, beginning to tie your wrists to one another. You admit, although it’s incredibly arousing to watch his thick fingers twirl the smooth fabric into a knot, you grow a little bit anxious at the loss of movement. He can read it on your face after he finishes the knot, “I want you to lay back while I eat you out. I tied your hands in front of you so that you can pinch me if you want me to stop but can’t find your words.” You nod, appreciating the simplicity of his instructions. 

“I need you to use your words now, Goose.”

“Okay,” you reiterate, “Safe word is magpie. I can pinch you if I can’t say it.”

He nods, “Good girl,” and eases you onto your back. As he’s moving down your body to your core, something dawns on you, “Wait a minute.”

Ezra pauses and looks up at you with a caring expression, “What?”

“How am I supposed to stay quiet with the tie on my wrists and not in my mouth?”

He answers simplistically with a smirk, “Don't.”

You laugh, “What about the neighbors?”

“Fuck them. They should be grateful that tonight they will be an audience to one of the most beautiful symphonies that has ever been composed. And I’m not stepping foot off of this planet until I’ve heard my good girl’s clear, unabashed screams.” 

A rush of hot air leaves your mouth, enticing Ezra to come back up and push it back into you with his tongue. A moment of clashing teeth later, he retreats back down to your core and lightly knocks your legs apart. You shift your gaze downward to find him admiring your cunt, his left hand capturing his dick and pumping it a few times. He leans forward, presses a kiss to your inner thigh and then runs his sharp nose over the spot, up your leg, across your hip and back down to your wetness and inhales deeply. You can’t help but laugh at his display of rapture, his sniffing audible. He threatens you in disbelief, “My indulgence amuses you, Goose?” 

You meet his eyes with yours, twinkling with mischief, “Yeah, kind of.” 

He puts his tongue in his cheek and shakes his head, “Goose, you are being a bit of a brat.” He pushes your knees to your chest, his hands on the backs of your thighs, keeping them in place, “And you should know by now how much I love taming my little brat.” 

You are very aware of how much he enjoys brat taming, hence your acting up. His tongue licks a wide stripe up your core and a gasp escapes your mouth. He moans into you, sending vibrations through your cunt and shivers up your spine. He buries his tongue in you, his lips fornicating with your southern set, his fingers gripping your soft flesh tightly. Your anticipation of this moment has made your cunt oversensitive, so every little tickle of Ezra’s facial hair, every small movement of his warm tongue, every faint nudge of his nose and chin against your vulva makes you moan loudly. The pattern that his tongue is following suddenly picks up speed and your body involuntarily adjusts to it. Your hips buck up into his mouth, your clit weeping to be drenched in his saliva. Your tied hands lower until your fingertips are able to find his hair and intertwine with the thick brunette strands. The stability that gripping onto his hair gives you makes you hyperaware of just how close you are to cumming already. You whimper, “Ezra, please.”

This tone of your voice has been permanently ingrained in his mind thanks to your daily fucks over the past couple months. If the tightening of your hamstrings isn’t a large enough hint to him that you are close, your breathlessness is a blatant clue. He releases you from his mouth, lines of spit keeping the two of you connected, “That’s my girl, come on.” His egging on is more than you need to be shoved into your orgasm. As his tongue returns to lap at your clit, your neck arches up and your eyes roll into the back of your head. A groan rips through your throat that drowns out his muffled moans, his mouth working you through your orgasm. Your sharp intakes of air start to stagger out as your heart begins to calm down, your cunt pulsing with aftershocks. Ezra reluctantly removes his mouth from you, wetting your inner thigh with a line of his spit and your slick before pressing a kiss to the same spot he kissed earlier. The blackness of his pupils overtakes his chocolatey irises when he catches your eyes, dopamine flooding his nervous system. 

He presents his wrist, does some math on an imaginary watch and jokes, “That must’ve been a record, Goose.” You giggle and pull your hands up to your mouth, trying to hide your embarrassed smile. He reaches up and pulls your hands back down to tangle your fingers in his cowlicks, “But my desire to drink pools of your cum has not yet been satiated.” 

You swear under your breath as he dips his head back in between your legs, your voice catching in your throat when his hot breath cascades over your folds. This time, instead of licking stripes and lapping, he opts to draw shapes and trace circles against you. It sounds stupid, but man does it feel fucking good. Before you lose all self control, you give his scalp a massage, the best one you can muster with conjoined hands, as a way of telling him I love you. Simultaneously, he switches his tongue’s clockwise motion to counterclockwise and hooks his hands around the tops of your thighs, pulling you deeper into his mouth so he can devour you even more thoroughly than he already was. You brush his hair off of his sweaty forehead with your knuckles, seeing that his eyes are closed and brows are furrowed in concentration. He’s been moaning this entire time into you, blissfully lost in the heaven that is your pussy, and as his tongue picks up its pace the vocal vibrations boost your toward your release. You beg of him, “Please don’t stop.” 

He doesn’t stop. In fact, he heightens your arousal one step further than you thought possible. He notes your utter wetness and decides to fill your wanting hole by snaking his left hand down to your entrance and slipping two fingers inside you. A heated orgasm pumps through your every artery just like Ezra’s fingers are pumping in and out of your cunt, his tongue keeping a delicious pace. After your body is done convulsing with pleasure, he moves up it and stops in front of your face. 

“Open.” 

You are all too familiar with this command and obey. Ezra spits a combination of your cum and his saliva into your mouth. He presses a hand to the underside of your jaw and you close your mouth. 

“Swallow.” 

You do as he says while he keeps his hand against your neck, feeling his love concoction make its way down your throat. He groans and gives you a quick kiss before asking, “Color?” You smile and bring your hands up to scratch at his scruff, “Green. You?”

“Green.” 

Pulling your body tight against his, he hauls the two of you to the middle of the bed. He sits up and back atop your hips, pulls your hands closer to him and begins to untie your wrists. Your eyes can’t help but fixate on his hard dick, standing erect in front of you, as he speaks, “Now Goose, once you’re untied I want you to get on all fours for me,” he notices your distraction, “and if you try to pull any shenanigans, there will be consequences.” You shift your gaze up to his eyes and you swear that there’s a deep sparkle in them that is daring you, begging you, to disobey him. He liked to punish you as much as you liked to be punished by him. So, once untied, you throw him a curveball and take his orders, flipping over and propping yourself up on your hands and knees. You look over your shoulder at him to see that his face is mangled in baffled confusion, making you laugh, “What?” 

He mounts your ass and teases your entrance with his cock, “If you had attempted to grab what your eyes were drooling over, I would’ve spanked you.” 

“But I didn’t.”

He leans over your back and places his hands on either side of yours, “I wanted to spank you.” 

“I know. But I’m not a naughty girl.”

He raises his eyebrows and chuffs out disbelief, “Maybe if you continue to tell yourself that delusion, you can convince yourself that it’s true. But there’s no fooling me. I know my girl is infatuated with misbehaving in order to spite me,” he stuffs his cock inside your pussy, “Isn't that true?” He lifts his left hand to wrap his fingers around the arched column of your throat, forcing you to look up at him. 

You dismantle his lie, “I don’t do it to spite you, I do it to delight you.” 

He pulls his hips away from yours in order to prepare for a thrust and hums, “That’s one reason why I love you, Goose. You see right through me.” 

The two of you groan in unison as he fucks forward and bottoms out inside you. As he establishes a steady pace, your quivering fingers find purchase on his wrist. Even though you had slept together a countless number of times in the past two months, his girthy penetration still overwhelmed you at first, and you benefitted from at least a few seconds of adjusting. He knew this and was why he untied you; his brutal rhythm coupled with the binding of the tie would be too much for you without a little warming up. While he’s stretching you out, he murmurs encouragements into your hair, “That’s it, just like that... You’re taking my cock so well... Good girl.” 

After your muscles relax, he asks, “Color?”

“Couldn’t be greener. You?”

He grins at your response, “Green.” 

He gives your cheek a kiss before proposing his next instruction, “Why don’t you be a good girl and lay down and put your arms behind your back?”

He pauses his thrusts as you lean forward and press your cheek against the sheets. You turn to ask him just how he wants you to move, and he reads your mind, “Touch the pits of your elbows.” You twist your forearms behind your back until they are pressed against each other and the tips of one hand’s fingers graze the opposite side’s elbow. He snakes the silky tie in between your spine and wrists, the fabric gliding easily over your sweaty skin. He ties your wrists together again, this time much looser than before. He color checks you when he finishes the knot. You wiggle your arms, the amount of resistance being just right, “Green.” He hums in enjoyment and runs his fingertips down the backs of your arms, sending a pleasant shudder through you. 

Lining himself up, he places a steadying right hand on your lower back. The contrast of the cool metal of his prosthetic limb to the fire that barrels through you once he pushes himself back into your hole is divine. Both textures of his hands slip against your skin as they try to find a solid grip on your hips in order to allow him to begin pounding into you. Your whimpering spurs him on, and once he’s able to to lock you into place you both swear under your breath in anticipation. As he embarks on his ferocious rhythm, an orgasm takes you by surprise. 

Well, not really by surprise, because Ezra has proven time and time again that he can coax you to cum at a moment’s notice. 

Out of courteous instinct, you bury your face into the bed to muffle your cries of ecstasy. Ezra turns your face to the side and tuts, “Uh-uh, Goose, I need to hear you this time, remember?” 

You can barely him him, let alone understand him, while an astronomical burst of white oxytocin smothers your poor body. Unable to gain control of your composure to stop yourself, you indulge Ezra and let your screams fill the bedroom. The numbness of your mind fades away, effects of your orgasm bringing feeling back to you: the hot tears that spot your bottom lashline, the sweet soreness that the tensing of your muscles left you, the sweat that gathers in the line of your spine, the aroused slick that coats your inner thighs. 

You pant as Ezra unties you, “Good girl. Flip over and face me,” and he tenderly places your forearms to your sides. 

You’re exhausted. You can most definitely take more of his loving, but you need him to do the work, “I can’t.” 

He rolls you over onto your back, his muscular arms giving you the comfort you need to go on. A frantic, worried expression takes over his face, “You okay? Still green? I didn’t push you too far, did I? Was the tie too tight? Did I-” 

You shut him up with a kiss. You reassure him, “Yes, still green. Just fucking tired.” 

You both laugh, and he asks, “Do you want to stop?” 

You shake your head no, “I’m not sure if the neighbors heard all of that scream. I think they need another one.” 

Your dirty talk contorts his mouth into a grin of sly allure as he gets up off the bed, “I concur.” He opens a drawer of the nightstand and takes out another necktie, this one made of black wool. He gets back on the bed and says, “Let’s give them a musical to remember.” 

You snicker as he pushes both of you farther up the bed, giving you more room to mess about in. He places the second tie next to the blue one and a hand on each of your ankles, “What this next position requires in flexibility it will pay for infinitely in pleasure for you and I both, okay, Goose?” 

Your wariness is excited, “Okay?” 

He pulls your legs together and picks up the blue tie. He wraps the fabric around both ankles, beginning to tie them together, but pauses and interjects, meeting your eyes, “You’re okay with me tying you here, right?” 

You smile at his concern and mock, “Ezra, you could tie me any way you’d like and I’ll be more than happy.” 

His nose crinkles in satisfaction and he resumes tying you up. After he’s done, he pushes your thighs to your chest, bending your knees so your feet are in the air. You can’t stop the laughter that erupts from you, “Ez, what in the Bakhroma System are you scheming?” 

He gives you a wickedly teasing laugh back, “A fun time, Goose.” 

He momentarily cups your face with his left hand, “If at any point it gets too much, for whatever reason, just say the word and I’ll stop everything.” 

You take his hand and kiss his palm, “Okay.” 

He smiles, boops your nose with his thumb and pulls your arms so that they rest in the pit of your upside down knees. He picks up the black tie and does a different knot on your arms than he had done previously. He puts the binding on them higher up, which makes you hold your legs up, keeping your cunt on display for him. The wool of the tie scratches where the silk had soothed you, but you savor the friction. Ezra wastes no time in entering you again, plunging his cock deep into your fluttering walls. You brace your forehead against your shins, panting wildly. With every thrust, he hits something deep and sensitive in you, but you know you could make the experience more intense for the both of you. 

“Ez?” 

“Yeah?”

“Can you look at me?” He angles himself so he can look around your legs and meet your eyes. As you are projected into the depths of his eyes, engulfed by the lust-blown ink of his pupils, enhanced by the dark coffee that surrounds them, an “I love you” slips out of your lips. 

He compresses your body further by leaning down and capturing your mouth, “I love you too.” 

When he pulls back and his hands find the backs of your thighs, he asks for a color check. You answer green, giving him permission to ravage you. He does just that, putting every ounce of his might behind his thrusts, eliciting growls of the same magnitude from you both. The gradual construction of an orgasm starts to warm your body, your moans getting louder and louder with each passing second. In an effort to put it off, you bite down hard on your lip. Ezra notices, running a thumb across your lipline, “Goose, please, allow me to be privy to your every stuttered breath.”

“Every gasp of delighted surprise.”

“Every involuntary whimper.”

“Every lustful yelp.”

“Every plea for me to keep going.”

“Every unhinged beg.”

“Every feral scream that only I can rouse out of those magnificent lungs. Indulge my deranged wish and let me hear it all, Goose.”

His words whisk you onto an expressive whirlwind of slow-building passion. You close your eyes and watch as your orgasm transforms from a cozy snuggle to a captivating explosion; behind your eyelids, amorous red transitions to a lustful magenta. It lightens to a flirtatious and giggly bubblegum, intensifying to a vibrating, barely-there pink. Then, all at once, buckets of slumberous evergreen, pure Ezra energy, submerge you into your release. Any bit of any other color is eradicated as he pours his soul onto yours. Descending from your chameleonic trance, you open your eyes to meet his. He can see that he has torn you apart in a most satiating way, which catapults him to his peak. He pulls out of you and pumps his cum onto the backside of your thighs, his heart collapsing with joy. He smears his stickiness across both of your hamstrings and then quickly gets to work to release you from his necktie binds. The bind that he has made of your heart to his, though, is infinitely knotted, forever unbreakable. 

Your limbs untangle themselves and fall to the bed, every cell in your body pooped from the session. He asks for a final time, “Color?” 

You sigh, “Green. You?” 

He smiles, “Green.” 

He brushes the now cum-stained ties to the side and pats your stomach, stamping a handprint of his seed, “I’ll be right back, Goose.” You nod once and he gets up and exits the room, leaving the door ajar.

You flip onto your stomach, your muscles yearning for a change of position after getting pummeled into the mattress. You bend your arms to lay in front of you, elbows sighing in relief for being contracted instead of stretched. You close your eyes and rest your head on his pillow for what seems like a millisecond, but when you open them back up Ezra has returned with two glasses of water, a washcloth and a juice box. 

He folds the cloth into a triangle, dips a corner into a glass and then brings it behind you. The icy water feels good on your overheated skin as he wipes away his cum before it has the chance to dry. Once he cleans you off, he takes a seat on the edge of the bed next to your depleted frame. He sets the cloth down and picks up the other glass of water, “Drink this, sweetheart.” You prop yourself up on your forearms and gulp some much needed fluids down as Ezra holds the glass steady against your mouth. You hold up a weak hand when you’ve had your fill and he finishes off the drink. You never thought you would find sharing a drink like this with someone stomachable, let alone wildly attractive. But Ezra had changed you; you wanted to exchange cells, germs, bodily fluids with him, no matter how nasty it sounded when put into words. 

Ezra trades the glass for the juice box and pops the straw into the opening, holding it up to your lips, “Drink some.” You curiously eye the juice box: apple flavored, the carton decorated in bright and childish cartoons. You tease him, “You know, when I said I might have a daddy kink, this is not what I meant.” 

You both laugh, and he pokes after a moment, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” 

As you take the straw into your mouth and drink, he places a hand on the back of your head and pets your hair, “That’s it, babygirl, do as Daddy says.” An air of laughter blows through your nose and you choke on the liquid as Ezra cackles. You drop the straw and cough, “Stop!” 

He continues to laugh at you while you whine, “Why do I have to drink this anyways, can’t I just have water?” 

He calms himself down and shakes his head, “No, I want to replenish your blood sugar. Otherwise you might feel faint, and not in a good way.” He shoots you a wink and you take another sip of the juice. 

When you’re done, he puts the half-empty box back on the nightstand and lays on top of you. You joke, “You’re crushing me and you told me I have to pee right after.” 

Since sleeping together, Ezra had realized how little knowledge of aftercare you had. He had advised you to go to the bathroom as soon as possible after the deed is done in order to avoid urinary tract infections, among other pains. He nuzzles into your shoulder and protests, “In a minute.” 

Taking into account the history of his comment and your increasingly heavy eyelids, you rebut, “You know that never happens.” More often than not, when Ezra trapped you in a cage of cuddles directly afterward like this, the two of you would fall asleep and you would skip the trip to the bathroom. He grunts and moves his weight off of you, “Fine, but I’ll only let you go if I can carry you in there.” You barely have time to begin laughing before he’s swooping you up into his arms. 

After you both use your respective time in the bathroom, you and Ezra dress in matching pajamas and climb into bed. Coddling you into his broad chest, his fingers dance on the back of your neck and your lower back. You turn your head up to face him and when he returns your gaze you reference the whole night, “Thank you.” 

A smile crinkles his tired eyes, “The pleasure was all mine, Goose. Thank you for taking it all so well. Get some sleep, okay?” 

“Only if you will too.”

“Sure thing, my love.”

He gives you a kiss before you retreat back into the sanctuary of his embrace. Right as you’re drifting off to sleep, he adds, “I would like to ravage you one more time, in the morning.” 

Your smirk pulls at the fabric of his shirt, “Okay. But no daddy kink. We have to save some things to explore when we come back.” 

He hums, pressing his cheek into the top of your head before the two of you succumb to the temptation of sleep, “As you wish.”

💘taglist: @pascalpanic

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

My Universe

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Request (from @kreampop1257​​): Hi! Could I request a fic where Bakugou and his fem!s/o go camping? it's ok if not!!

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warnings: None o.O? Ig y’all get a lil kissy kissy but it’s nothing crazy. Also you eat food

Author’s Note:

Sorry again for the long wait! Have some incredibly soft Bakugou (like literally almost ooc söft). Also this one ended up being gender-neutral (no pronouns) so yeah :D

Enjoy!

-Sugar

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────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

“Where’d you say this thing was?” Your question was directed at the back of Bakugou’s head, his spiky blond hair seemingly flatter from how much he’d been sweating the past few hours.

“It’s not much farther,” he grunted.

You knew how annoying he found complaining to be, so you’d kept quiet on that front for most of your little adventure. But your bags only seemed to be getting heavier, and the sun already hung low in the sky.

Your boyfriend had suggested that he take you camping with him as a sort of romantic getaway. Granted, that wasn’t how he’d put it, but you were inclined to think so. It wasn’t every day you got to spend so much time alone with him. But now you were hot, tired, a little sweaty, and Bakugou had hardly said a word to you on your entire hike up the mountain. Figures.

Following him for a few more minutes, he led you to a small clearing between a circle of trees and unceremoniously dropped his bag. “Here,” he announced, already crouching down to pull out the tent.

You set your own backpack on the ground, taking a look around you. The trees stretched up and up above your head, a thin canopy of leaves just allowing you to see small patches of the darkening blue sky. “This is nice,” you said, twirling to see how large the site was. There was just enough space for your tent and a small fire.

“Don’t just stand there gawking,” Bakugou said. “Help me.”

You walked over to where he’d laid out the canvas of the tent, holding it up so he could put the rods in the support system and keeping it steady as he hammered in the stakes. By the time you were finished, the sky was already streaked with pink and orange hues.

“Clear that spot for the fire,” Bakugou instructed, pointing to a patch of dirt a few feet away from your tent. “I’ll go get some wood.”

And a few minutes later, you had a fire going. You leaned against your boyfriend as you both finally sat and rested on the ground, devouring sandwiches you’d packed earlier.

“Are you having fun?” Katsuki asked you, his eyes averted to his feet as he took another bite from his sandwich.

“Yeah, actually,” you answered, watching the fire dance in front of you. “I like being out here, and the hike up wasn’t too bad.” You laced your free hand with his, turning to face him. “And I like spending time with you. Even if you can be a little bossy.”

“I’m not bossy!” Bakugou said, finally looking at you with an indignant pout.

You giggled, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “Are too.”

“I just—want things to be perfect for you,” he grumbled, looking away again. “It’s what you deserve.”

You let go of his hand to cup his face in your palm, turning his chin so your noses could brush together. “That’s sweet of you.” You kissed him gently, and you couldn’t help but notice the way he almost seemed to melt into your lips. You went back to your sandwiches a moment later after you’d pulled away, finishing them in silence.

“S’more time!” you announced, pulling the packet of marshmallows out of your bag. You passed it to Bakugou along with a skewer and began roasting them.

The blond hovered his over a glowing ember while you immediately shoved yours into the fire, watching the puffy treat burst into flame.

“You actual fiend,” Bakugou accused disapprovingly with a quirked brow as you raised the blackened flaming marshmallow high enough to blow out.

“The pot and the kettle,” you muttered, flicking off a piece of the scorched skin. “This is the quick way to do it. Besides, now it’s all nice and melty.”

“And burnt,” he quipped, turning his own so you could see the golden brown tone his had taken on.

You shrugged, pulling out a graham cracker and a square of chocolate. “Works for me.”

You tried your best to be neat while you took a bite out of your s’more, but the marshmallow had other plans. It refused to separate from itself, pulling apart in a single gooey string and sticking to your face.

Bakugou watched you out of the corner of his eye with a smirk as he finally pulled his perfectly toasted marshmallow out of the heat of the fire. He took a bite from it plain off the skewer, still amused with watching as you got specks of chocolate and marshmallow around your mouth.

“I’m struggling,” you admitted to him, still trying to figure out the best way to smush down your dessert so it would stay together.

He chuckled at your predicament, waiting until you finished. “You’ve got something on your face.”

“I’m aware.” You pulled a wet wipe out of your bag, grateful that you’d thought to bring one. Once you were finished wiping off your sticky fingers, you moved to swipe it over your face. But Katsuki stopped you before you could, taking your wrist in his hand and sliding closer to you.

Wordlessly, his lips met your face again, pecking away the sweet fragments of your s’more from your skin. You could feel his tongue swiping out, kitten licking at a crumb of chocolate in the corner of your mouth.

“Sweet,” he mumbled lowly in that gruff voice of his, almost making you shiver and causing your cheeks to heat even more than they already were. Finally he moved in even closer, kissing you fully on the lips once more for a long moment. You relaxed into him, fingers settling under his jawline to pull him in. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip as he pushed against you, exhales from his nose mingling with yours. Katsuki finally pulled away, his lips grazing over your cheekbone as he moved to whisper in your ear. “I want to show you something.”

You nodded and he stood, offering you his hand. You took it and straightened, allowing him to lead you off into the woods.

After a few minutes of walking, you noticed the trees begin to thin out. Soon, you were standing in some sort of meadow, wild grass growing up past your ankles.

“Look up there,” Katsuki whispered.

Your eyes flicked to the dark blue canvas of sky and widened as they took in the sight above you. Thousands of stars glittered in the distance, twinkling and bright in the clear atmosphere.

“I’ve never seen so many,” you whispered in awe, entranced by the bejeweled heavens.

“There’s no light pollution up here in the mountains,” Katsuki said, letting go of your hand so he could flop down on the ground. You followed, laying at his side and looking above the treeline, the grass tickling your cheek.

You laid there together in silence for some time; fingers newly entwined, eyes tracing clusters of stars, searching for familiar constellations. You stared up for so long, your eyes began to burn. You let them drift shut, allowing your other senses to take over.

You could hear the steady breaths of Katsuki beside you, accompanying the symphony of insects orchestrating music of their own design. The grass fluttered against every inch of your exposed skin, stirring ever so slightly on every draft of cool night air. You were quick to get lost in the earthly scents surrounding you, each one deeply penetrating your lungs and seeming to spin in your mind.

“Getting tired?”

Bakugou’s rough voice shook you out of your thoughts. You opened your eyes again, focusing on the heavenly view above. “This is so cool,” you mumbled, ignoring your boyfriend’s previous question. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

He tched. “Of course, dummy.” Bakugou squeezed your hand a final time before sitting up, stretching. “Come on, let’s head back before you fall asleep. It’s been a long day.”

Once you were at your campsite again, you pulled out the bedding and your pajamas. Bakugou doused the smoldering remains of your fire before helping you spread out the sleeping bags and blankets inside the tent, your actions lit only by a single lantern. 

Settling in, Bakugou shut off the light, plunging everything around you into a thick darkness. You heard him turn over, and you realized with a hint of frustration that he was facing away from you. You knew your boyfriend wasn’t always interested in cuddling, and you respected that. He wanted his space from time to time, that was all. But did it have to be now? Tonight?

You internally grumbled to yourself, regretting not shoving your sleeping bag even closer to his. Your mind began to wander, but you quickly took notice that you weren’t as sleepy as you should be. Pouting to yourself at your horrendous luck, you turned over, frowning at the feeling of hard earth under your shoulder and hip. You’d literally spent the past several hours physically exerting yourself. The least your body could do for you was allow itself to get the sleep and rest it ached for. But your head was too noisy, the ground too hard, and it was slowly sinking in how cold the woods got at night.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Cringing at the loud shuffling sounds of your sleeping bag, you shimmied your way over to your boyfriend. To your dismay, you could tell by his breaths that he was already some level of asleep. Stealthily, you tried pressing your chest into his back. Already, warmth began to seep into your skin, and you finally sighed in contentment, draping your arm over his side.

And then his breathing changed. Man, he was too easy to wake up.

You heard him chuckle, low and breathy from his still-sleepy state. “You really can’t last long without me, huh?” he said, face invisible to you, still turned away in the dark. “What was that?” he went on. “Five seconds and you already want me again?”

You scowled at the vague outline of his hair, catching onto what he was getting at. “That was so not five seconds!” you protested. “You fell asleep! And besides, it’s cold out here.” Even though he couldn’t see you, you knew he’d be able to hear the pout in your voice.

Still chuckling to himself, he rolled over to face you. “Come ‘ere, Teddy Bear, you know I’m just messin’ with you.”

Your pout remained present on your face, but even so, you found yourself snuggling into his warm chest. It was infinitely softer than where you’d previously been laying, and the way his arms snaked around your body heated you like nothing else.

“How’s this, babe?” His hand smoothed over your back, pulling at your blankets so you could effectively be cocooned against him.

“Perfect,” you whispered, finally relaxing your face and letting your smile creep across your lips. Settling in, you gripped the soft fabric of his shirt between your fingers.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair. “Was this a nice trip?” he asked, abandoning his initial teasing tone for a more vulnerable one.

“Yes,” you answered, and of course it was the truth. “Thanks for showing me the stars.”

“Knew you’d like them,” he snorted, playing with a strand of your hair.

“The world’s so big,” you quietly mused to yourself, lids finally growing heavy. “The sun. The earth. The moon. And all the stars. But you’re my everything, Katsuki.”

His breath suddenly caught in his throat, causing him to freeze for a moment before he looked down again at your dark form snuggled into his chest.

“My universe,” you mumbled, finally drifting off in his arms.

How could you know that he felt the same? How could he express what you did to him every time you laughed? How he wanted to be there for it all? How he wanted to hold you when you were sad and lift you up when you were happy? How could he say that you meant more to him than you’d ever know, that he’d move mountains just for you if he thought for a second that it would make you smile? How could you know that you were his universe too?

“Of course I am,” he muttered to your sleeping self, pressing a final kiss to your forehead. “Always will be.” And with that, his consciousness joined you among darkness and stars.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Taglist: @aahilovetheatre​ @basicaegyo​ @hyunmin-1404​ @iiminibattlehero​ @katsugay​ @nabo39​ @pyrofanatic​​ @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @sxngwoos-ash-box​ @xoxopam4​​

[ladydaemon]

hi could you do headcanons that are set in the grishaverse and after KoS and RoW abt nikolai and readers(she/her pronouns) wedding and what happens the day before, day of, and after. thank you

A/N: so i haven't read ROW yet,,,,, i'm sorry y'all but i'm broke af and am waiting for it to come out in softcover so this is an AU where everything with the darkling and shit doesn't happen and there's no demon but the characters are there??? if that makes sense

Warnings: swearing, innuendos because nikolai lantsov, i think that's it

okay so it's the day before

the past five months have been the most exhausting ever

nikolai has been doing the guest list and making sure there are guards at every entrypoint

and picking out the decorations because we all know his taste is immaculate

you've been making sure the staff is on point, picking out exactly what color rose you want, and making the plan for what's going to be a ten-course meal (while trying not to serve anything that will offend the foreign missionaries)

genya and nina have been planning the honeymoon of course

you and nikolai are not allowed to know anything about it

anyways, its the day before, and its honestly not as hectic as you thought

its kinda like the calm before the storm

it's starting to freak you out

and you're in your room that's made for a queen, freaking out about becoming a queen, and also knowing with absolute certainty that something about to go wrong

and then

lo and behold

the man in question slips into your room

and he has the most worried look on his face and you want to cry because he's going to say something horrible like he wants to take the proposal back or the giant ice sculpture of vasily fell down

you actually wouldn't mind the last one but-

but he just sits on the bed next to you and hugs you and buries his face in your hair

because of course he knows that you're about to tear you hair out with nervousness

and that would be bad considering that this is pretty much a global event

and oh look you're spiraling down again

and you're just wondering why the fuck would the literal king of ravka want to marry you

when nikolai heaves you up and fucking carries you out your window

keep in mind you are at least five stories up

and he's somehow shifted you onto his back

and now he's climbing down the trellis, laughing as you let out a string of curses in various languages

he is laughing

and saints you want to smack him but you're dangling at least fifty feet in the air

no you are not looking at his muscles flexing underneath his shirt why would you do that

and then you're on the ground again and you move to shriek in his face when he kisses you

like

he kisses you

homeboy legit pins you to the wall

and suddenly you can't think straight and everything you were just worrying about goes fwoop out the window

well you're outside so there isn't really a window but you get what i mean

and now this man has the audacity to smirk and say 'i thought that'd get you stop overthinking'

this time you actually do smack him

he yelps in mock pain and you laugh

and then he chases you around the garden

that is conveniently placed under your room for the night (you are now realizing he planned it all, and aren't sure if you want to kiss him again or smack him again)

and when you're done you sit under a tree and he tugs you into his lap until zoya finds you and separates you for the night

and then nina comes in and slows your heart rate and forces you to go to sleep so that you can look your best because 'it would be inappropriate if i looked better than the bride'

and then you wake up and it's the day of and a herd of servants drag you out of bed at the buttcrack of dawn

and now you're wondering if you can call off the wedding because there should be absolutely no reason to wake up this goddamn early

but genya ushers them out and gives you a tonic while nina fusses over your hair

they help you slip on the giant-ass dress that you look gorgeous in

and then

there's literally nothing to do for the next two hours

zoya and alina slipped in the room and then the girl gang was all together

you played a couple rounds of truth or dare (nothing that couldn't be done in a wedding dress without getting it ruined)

stuff you learned: alina had once broken her leg climbing a tree, nina had once bribed a cook to give her waffles with a button and then burned the kitchen down on accident when the cook had refused, and zoya had gone through a phase where she would steal genya's lipstick and write creepy messages on the tailor's mirror with it

stuff you had to do: give alina your candy stash (you were not happy about this), genya had to give herself bangs, zoya had to fistfight nina, and nina had alina get her cookies from the kitchen

nikolai tried to sneak in a couple times but was forcibly escorted from the hallway every time

nina and zoya frog-marched him back to his room every time before he could see you while alina and genya giggled with you

the girls swooned again at how pretty the lantsov ring looked

and then they got ready

nina is wearing a jaw-dropping red ballgown with an almost inappropriate neckline

genya has on a simple shift dress that's halfway between a carrot color and cream

zoya's wearing a midnight-blue suit with silver cuffs and accents

and alina's wearing a gold dress with a ridiculous amount of tulle

they all look prettier than you and everyone spends half an hour complimenting each other

but then it was time and your stomach dropped into your fancy shoes

and suddenly you were walking down an aisle with zoya on your arm and

then

time

stopped

you don't think you had ever seen nikolai this nervous

in all the years you had known him, you had never seen this expression on his face, this mix of nervousness and anticipation and elation and sheer love

any doubts you had ever had about rushed away in that one instant, when you saw that puppy-dog look on his face, the way his eyes followed you and only you

however you are also noticing how hot he looks in his suit with all the fancy ribbons and medals

and then a thought so ridiculous and unprompted popped into your head and you wanted to laugh

because the term sobachka never fit more perfectly on nikolai

his eyes were wide and he looked vulnerable and innocent

he wouldn't be that innocent later that night in bed though

and then he made a fancy speech and kissed your hand while you looked on adoringly

and then he gave you a chaste kiss while you both said i do and the crowd went nuts, cheering and whooping and hollering

and then this bastard actually booped your nose

everyone awwhed while you blushed furiously

and then you got to throw cake in nikolai's face

it was fun

and then you and the girls started a full-on food fight

zoya nailed you in the tits

and nina somehow got nikolai in the crotch, cackling the whole time

there was frosting in genya's hair and alina was using mal as a human shield

and then the tidemakers melted the ice sculptures to make snow

so the whole party became a cross between a food fight and a snowball fight

and at the end everyone was soaked and covered in food and laughing their asses off

and what you thought was going to be a very stiff and formal meeting turned out to be the best night of your life

[yeahimaloser]

My Everthing

Dabi X Reader

EANBEKWBWR OK I FINISHED IT!

⚠️ 290 spoilers ahead⚠️

Is it bad I feel like I cheated on Keigo after writing this?? I feel like I have to write about him again because I feel bad.

I also passed out writing this by the way, but someone needs to feed the Dabi simps. And I will do it (because I too simp for the burn man).

Anyways, this story is a oneshot about how you were at the wrong place at the wrong time…

Warnings!!: kidnaping (don’t worry it’s lowkey fluffy tho)

No pronouns mentioned!

Word count: 2214

Enjoy :)

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

You didn’t mean to walk in. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

You were simply running errands when you heard a commotion in the ally. Maybe it was stupid of you to go and check, but still the little part of you wanted to see what was going on. 

But when you turned the corner you realized what was happening.

The league of villains was well covered by the media. So of course when you saw them, you knew exactly who they were.

The league seemed to be getting into a scuffle with a different organization.

You tried to back away. “Maybe they won’t see me. Yeah, they’re too busy to notice me.”

But you were wrong.

You felt someone behind you grab your waist and put a hand over your mouth. 

“Not so fast sweetheart. Can’t let you leave now.”

You looked over your shoulder to see a man with deep scars and black ashy hair.

Before you could even scream, you were knocked out.

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

You woke up to the sound of snapping fingers.

As you opened your eyes, you saw the man from before.

You realized that you were on the floor, it was dry and so so cold. You seemed to be in a cell of somesorts.

“What the hell.” you said.

The man just laughed, “I was going to say the same thing. How the hell did you know where we were? You a spy or something.”

“No!” you said, standing up. “Really! I'm just a random civilian, just wrong place ya know?” It was futile, there was no way he would believe you.

He hummed, “What’s your name doll?”

You stood a little taller, “Y/N.”

He gave you a smirk, “Y/N huh. Sorry sweetie, can’t let you go. You saw us, so we gotta kill you.”

Your eyes widen as this man laughed in fornt of you. “Sorry baby, that's just how life is. Cruel right? But how about this,” he got closer to your cell, “Tell my why I should let you go.” he chuckled, “In fact, why don’t you beg.”

To his (and your) surprise, you spit in his face.

But he just laughed, “Awwww what, are you mad?  Maybe I should just kill you.”

“Why,” you mused, “aren't you guys against heroes, or is that just a bullshit front so you can hurt people? You know, I don’t like the hero’s all that much, but damn, I thought  the hero killer had some good points,” your face twisted into one of pure anger, “but you all just want destruction.”

The man gave you a once over, “Dabi, that is my name.”

You gave him a skeptical look, “Why are you telling me this?”

Dabi just smirked, “Because I like your attitude, I’ll let you live. But you’ll stay here for a while.”

You just glared at him, “And if I fight back?”

He let out a low chuckle, his piercing blue eyes looked you up and down. “Dollface, I like your feisty attitude, but don’t make this difficult for me.”

You glared at him, but relented.

And that's how you were captured by infamous villain, Dabi.

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

You also met the other members of the league, Toga was your favorite. She might be a little crazy, but she seemed quite nice. 

“You're so CUTE,” Toga told you before turning to Dabi, “Can I have Y/N? Pretty please?”

Dabi was strangly territorial of you, you still despised him. That being said, maybe something interesting would happen if you got a long with Dabi. 

Dabi would often talk to you about random things, usually him ranting about how ignorant hero society was.

He kept you well fed and entertained. In fact, he would actually let you out of cell sometimes. And you weren’t stupid enough to escape, Dabi looked all the other doors and had the only keys.

Sometimes you two would watch random stupid movies together, somtimes he would get super drunk. Those were your favorites.

“Doll, sit on my lap.”

“No Dabi, you're wasted.”

He chuckled darkly, “And your cute, so what? Come on, have some fun!”

Or the time you would talk down to hero’s with each other.

“They’re all so ignorant,” Dabi said, “no one in the damn society can see what the hell’s wrong with this world.”

“On that, I agree,” you nodded to his statement, “the biases of quirks are so unfair. This society just wants to cage people into their own whims. Personally, I find it disgusting.”

Dabi reached over and patted your head, “Look at that. Doll you surprise me every day you’re here.” 

When you asked him why he kept you, he would just tell you that it was because he was honestly bored. Eventually he would let you go. But only when he was satisfied. 

Satisfied with what? He never told you.

One day though, things seemed to change between you and him.

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

You were stuck on the couch, mindlessly watching reruns of a random show. 

You were waiting for Dabi to come back, you were honestly just really bored. And you actually liked talking to Dabi, but you refused to admit it. You still wanted to leave and go home.

When you hear the door open, you turn around to say something snappy to Dabi, but the words die in your throat when you see how badly he’s hurt.

His scars seemed to be dripping blood and you could see fresh wounds patching his skin. His eyes seemed tired yet deadly.

Before you could stop yourself, you stood in front of him, “What the hell happened to you? How did this happen?”

But Dabi just sidestepped you, mumbling something under his breath as he sat on the couch.

You sighed, “Where is your first aid kit,” you asked.

Dabi looked at you, confused, “What?”

You just rolled your eyes, “Your first aid kit, your hurt and you should get something on those before they get worse.”

Dabi gaped at you, but answered, “In the closet.”

You nodded and went to the closet, grabbing the kit and making your way to the couch. 

You started to clean the wounds and disinfect them.

But the entire time, Dabi just stared at you. He barely even flinch, like he was used to this kind of pain. 

When your hand held his check in order to hold his face steady for you to clean the other side of his face, he leaned into you.

When he realized what he was doing, he quickly pulled back. Looking away he said, “Sorry.”

You just smirked, “Don’t worry about it dollface.” you giggled a little to yourself, thinking that Dabi would find it funny too. But instead he got up abruptly, walking away from you.

You were so confused, was it something you said? No, you teased him all the time. Was it something you did?

But before Dabi walked out the door, Dabi turned back to you, “Thank you.” He said that quickly before turning to leave.

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

That night Toga and Twice bought you dinner, and a surprise.

“Dabi says you can leave,” says Toga in a sad voice.

“That's so sad- GOOD RIDDANCE,” Twice exclaimed.

You were left confused, “What? Why?”

Toga folded her arms over her chest and huffed, “I don’t know, I wanted to keep you.”

You looked over at Twice, “Don’t look at me, I don’t know! He probably got bored of you. That’s so mean!”

After you ate, they informed you about how they would have to blindfold you and take you to a separate location. They said it was so you didn’t know the location of their secret base.

But to be honest, seeing how the league of villains were just some messed up people that socity kicked to the side, you wouldn’t tell anyone about them. They deserved to be mad, they deserved to be upset.

But you agreed, but you asked to see Dabi one more time.

The two side eyed each other before telling you no.

You felt a pang of… sadness? No, that wasn't right, you should be happy. You were getting your life back.

You nodded, “Ok but… can you just tell me something?” 

They nodded, “Why is he doing this right now?”

“Oh,” Toga said, “we were going to ask you the same thing.”

Twice checked the time, “We should go, Shigraki told us we have to be gone by now.”

You relented, but you still felt the lingering sadness in your chest.

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

It had been a week since the league let you go. You found yourself missing Dabi.

There was no way you were in love with your kidnapper.

You shook your head, no you just went through a traumatic event. Your brain just needed to process it… right?

Today was just your normal, average day. You had nothing special planned, just chilling around your house.

...That was until you heard a knock at your door.

You were confused. You weren’t expecting anyone.

You opened the door, and to your surprised, it was Dabi.

He was standing in your doorway, in civilian clothing. But you could recognize those piercing blue eyes anywhere.

Before he could say anything, you dragged him inside your house. You checked outside to see if he was followed.

Once the cost was clear, you turned back to him, “Dabi?! What the hell,” you weren’t mad. Just confused. Why was he back? How did he even get here? Why the hell would he risk his safety just to see you.

His eyes seemed plain and unbothered, but you saw the pain underneath that. “I- I just needed to see you again.”

“Dabi,” you huffed, “you can’t just kidnap me, get close to me, and then just let me go out of nowhere. And then what,” now you were getting upset, “you want to be pals? You want to say your sorry? What the hell!”

Dabi just sighed, “Look, I know coming here was stupid. But… I don’t know. I just needed to see you again. I’m not good at this whole emotions thing. I’m sorry for kidnapping you, and I’m sorry for not letting you go sooner. But, I don’t  know, I just got attached to you. When you helped me with my hurt wounds I felt something. No ones ever done that before,” he turned to you, his eyes looking so raw and intense. “You deserve so much better Doll. You deserve a happy, normal life. But I feel so drawn to you. I know how stupid it is. But,” he leaned closer into you, “I want you. I want you so bad it hurts.”

Before you knew it, your lips were pressed firmly against his. His hands kneading the skin on your hips. 

His lips were rough, like sandpaper. But you were pleasantly surprised by how nice the sensation was. His lips were warm against yours, like summer's day. Infact, the whole body felt warm. It felt like it was inviting you in. And you weren't going to say no.

Dabi, pushed harder against you, whining into your mouth  as you pulled away.

Both of you out of breath, he smiled at you, “Glad to know we’re on the same page dollface.”

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

4 years later

To the surprise of both of you, your relationship with Dabi was going strong.

So strong in fact, that one morning when Dabi woke up before you, he just gazed at your sleeping form. 

He thought how lucky he was to have you, how much he loved you. It wasn’t an understatement to say he was prepared to kill for you. He wanted you to have everything, everything he could give you. He wanted to give you his love most of all. So that started with his real name.

He realized he trusted you enough to let you know, and he trusted himself enough to be honest with you.

As you awoke, you smiled at him, cupping his cheek as he leaned in to your touch. “Good morning Dabi, how did you-”

“It’s Toya sweetheart, Toya Todoroki.”

He let you absorb that information. He let it sink in.

“Wha-” you started.

“Baby, I love you so much. And I want to trust you with this,” he kissed you hand lovingly, “I want to be happy with you. I want to trust you unconditionally. I want you to hold my heart in your hands.”

He leaned into you, his breath hot on your face, “I want you to be my everything.”

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

I hoped you guys enjoyed this!!

This was my first time writing for Dabi so I hope I did ok!

@orenjineki

Yaaaay!! I figured out how to tag people! Sorry, it took so long haha! Also I’m sorry if you already saw this, again sorry it took me awhile to find a way to tag you!