#I might be ​slowly becoming normal again

[forestclan-clangen]

MOON 10 (Part 2)

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Hopechase and Morningpaw find an old badger sett. Or at least...they THINK it is. Hopechase remembered the stories of the Gardens Below, and reluctantly grabs a long stick and stabs it into the sett. No animal was there, but dark roots were. Hope tells Morning that if they come back and the roots grab onto the stick, then this was where a Woodcrawler might come from.

(Morningpaw, apprentice, female, 12 moons) (Hopechase, warrior, female, 92 moons)

Windfur tries to apologize to Shiverpaw for the moon prior. Shiverpaw isn't interested in hearing it, interjecting him whenever he tries.

(Windfur, medicine cat, male, 24 moons) (Shiverpaw, medicine cat apprentice, female, 10 moons)

Olive suddenly finds, after moons of being unable to move her back legs, that she can walk again. She takes a few hesitant steps, and for a moment, she is in awe as Perchkit and Branchkit approach excitedly. Windfur also feels relieved, releasing a breath he held for moons. Olive purrs as she genuinely thanks Windfur for his patience, and apologizes for her rudeness during her grief.

(Olive, mediator, female, 66 moons) (Windfur, medicine cat, male, 24 moons) (Branchkit, kitten, female, 5 moons) (Perchkit, kitten, female, 5 moons)

---

Olive was scared.

Yes, she could walk without pain. Yes, she could move her tail again - albeit with some soreness, due to the muscles being stiff. She understood Windfur's desire to remove her cast and declare her healed. It was strange, how something that had once been a symbol of her agony and pain had become a source of comfort. She had worn the cast since spring. Her life in ForestClan began as an injured loner, waking into camp with it. It was now winter, and the camp that sprawled before her was a set of roof-less tunnels, the snow shoveled aside to give clear paths to every major point of camp. There was no ice to slip on, and she was overdue to walk freely again.

And yet…

Windfur gently began untying the ropes around her cast. Windfur had been quieter over the past two weeks. She didn't blame him. She likely would, too, if she had gotten the full brunt of an angry Iciclepool and Redstar. She understood their anger - to send Shiverpaw out at the start of the snowstorm was a foolish decision made without thought. She wasn't a child, but the young cat hadn't experienced snow in such large quantities before. When the patrol hadn't returned on time, they blamed his poor judgement, and she was describing this lightly. Iciclepool hadn't spoken to Windfur in days, pointedly asking Shiverpaw for any medical assistance instead.

Olive's eyes shifted towards Windfur as she felt the cold air hit her normally-covered back. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steel her nerves. Windfur must've noticed her anxiety.

"...Any pain?" he asked.

"No."

"You seem tense."

Olive didn't reply.

Windfur slowly gathered the pieces of bark and old moss. He gently placed it in a basket, then began bunching the twine into a bundle. By the time he finished and grabbed the basket, he gave her one last look.

"...I'm going to dispose of the cast materials."

"That's fine."

"...You should be able to walk now."

"I know." Olive sighed. She closed her eyes for a moment. She felt her tail brush against the cold dirt and snow beneath her.

"Could you try it for me?" Windfur's voice was tense. Olive could've sworn that she heard a sense of dread lingering behind the statement. Olive stopped the swaying of her tail. Was he unsure of himself?

Olive looked out across the camp again, and saw her two kits laughing as they played in the snow. Perchkit's migraines had subsided, and she watched with softness as Perchkit dived under the snow, then stuck her head straight up like a gopher popping out of its burrow. Branchkit burst out laughing, deciding to do the same. The two cats playfully kept diving and popping their heads out from the snow, then emerging in progressively sillier poses.

A surge of warmth bloomed in her heart. It was dampened by tightening fear, then shame.

She was so afraid to have hope, for so many moons. The despair that plagued her was like she was submerged in mud. Her fears of her litter being taken had come true, and poor, innocent Warblerkit suffered the same fate in a vain attempt to prevent it. Nothing mattered for so, so long. She expected them to come back and take her remaining kits. There was no point to having hope.

The grief lessened as she watched her kits grow, and learned how to walk again. But the familiar pang of depression and defeat was comfortable. Familiar. She knew how to navigate it. Avoid it. Ground herself to suppress it. But allowing herself to feel joy? It had been foreign to her for a long, long time. And yet, here she was, without her cast. And here were her kits, unafraid and abundant in their happiness.

The first step was always the hardest one. The one with the most fear, and uncertainty. Something she would have to wrestle with her own mind and body over - teach it again that the world is not ending.

She wished she could step forward unafraid. But she couldn't.

Olive breathed deeply, letting the cold air pass through her lungs. "Courage is not without fear. Courage is not without fear," Olive muttered to herself quietly. She braced herself, and pushed herself to her feet.

She felt the weight settling on her back legs. She allowed her tail to sway slightly, stretching out the lingering stiffness. Then, she stepped forward. Once. Twice.

She found herself focusing on her kits in the distance.

She felt the wet, cold ground under her paw pads. She felt her tail lifting slightly, keeping it off the ground. She watched as her kits rolled out of the snow in laughter, and Branchkit's sage green eyes met with hers suddenly. They widened, and then Branchkit squealed with joy as she leapt towards her.

"Mom! You don't have a cast!"

Perchkit's head swiveled and her eyes were struck with wonder as she dashed after her sibling. Perchkit looked like she had just seen a miracle. "You're walking without it?"

Olive let out a breathy laugh. "Yes. I…I suppose I am."

"Woah, that's awesome! Does that mean you can play with us?"

"Well, hold on. I still have to get used to this again." Olive allowed a quiet purr to escape her.

"Does that mean your back is healed?" Perchkit piped. She still looked amazed, as though a miracle had just been performed.

"It does," Windfur meowed. Olive turned and saw that he had padded after her, still holding onto the waste basket. Windfur seemed more relieved than she had ever seen from the tom before. It was as though he had been holding a breath for a long time, and only now could he finally release it.

Olive, for the first time in many moons, allowed the warmth to surge through her. She let go of the fear and allowed it to surge down to her feet, and leave into the earth. Her sage green eyes wavered with feeling.

Despite everything, she was here. And she was alive. She couldn't possibly return the kindness and treatment that she was given, but it was given freely. ForestClan saved her. Windfur saved her. Despite how defeatist and hopeless she felt, the tom never gave up on treating her.

"Windfur," Olive started quietly. "Thank you for your patience and kindness for many moons. Despite how I've treated you and others in my darkest moments, you still treated me with respect. I know my words hurt. I'm so sorry for how I treated you."

Windfur sheepishly put down his basket and started grooming his arm. "It's - ah - it's fine," he answered. He put his arm back down and stared at his paws. "I've heard worse."

"That's not an excuse." Olive's expression was clouded with feeling. "I just…never thought I would get better."

Branchkit playfully batted at Olive's shoulder. "But you are better, mom!"

"I am. And that's thanks to Windfur, and Shiverpaw as well by the end. So…thank you." Olive bowed at him.

Despite Windfur's stoic expression, his raised tail betrayed his relief and gratitude. "Just…let me know if you get any pains or anything, okay? I still want to check up on you for a bit."

"Of course."

"Mom, did you wanna see the funny game Branchkit and I came up with? It has to do with finding each other in the snow!" Perchkit piped up as she ran back towards the snow banks.

"Show me, then," Olive purred as she padded after her kits.

Windfur couldn't help but watch as the mother watched her children play in the snow. Olive's eyes were filled with a kind of peace that he hadn't seen from her before, and for once, after moons of screwing up and failing others, he felt like maybe, he succeeded just this once, for this one person. Despite everything going against Olive - her broken back, her pregnancy, the woods' cruelty, her grief - here she was, walking, and purring as she watched her kits hunt each other in the snow.

For a brief moment, he allowed himself to purr with contentment. His tail tapped lightly on the ground, and he closed his eyes. He listened to Perchkit and Branchkit's mewls of excitement, and he was happy.

His tail stopped when Olive let out a hard cough. ---

A few days later, Olive's occasional coughing gets consistent. Olive is miserable as Windfur says it's yellowcough. Windfur feels REALLY bad for her. Thankfully, he has a surplus of lungwort, but that doesn't make Olive much happier, now that she's stuck in the medicine den again.

(Windfur, medicine cat, male, 24 moons) (Olive, mediator, female, 66 moons)

Branchkit appreciates that Riversnow always seems to ask how she's doing.

(Riversnow, warrior, female, 59 moons) (Branchkit, kitten, female, 5 moons)

Perchkit hates how Olive keeps getting attention lately, and doesn't understand why she's not being allowed to see her. What does Windfur mean, "she's sick again"? Her back was fine a few days ago! Windfur tries to be patient when explaining it to her.

(Windfur, medicine cat, male, 24 moons) (Perchkit, kitten, female, 5 moons)

Talontooth tries to offer Morningpaw a compliment, and fumbles on his words before awkwardly running away. Morningpaw suppresses a mrrow of amusement, and feels warm and fuzzy.

(Morningpaw, apprentice, female, 12 moons) (Talontooth, warrior, male, 14 moons)

Barleywave thinks Talontooth is being very helpful when he brings him dinner. The two toms also end up having some friendly bickering.

(Talontooth, warrior, male, 14 moons) (Barleywave, warrior, male, 39 moons)

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[deceit-and-knowledge]

Another diary/journal entry this time about pv and smilk, written by pv per request

cw: minor obssessive behaviour

Also date format used, day, month, year (blog owner is from the country that lost a war against a bird aka I'm not American)

Warning might be kinda long?

journal entry #xxx 5/3/xxxx

Dear journal

Today is the 5th day of spring so I took the time to sheer off the costs the cream sheep built up over the winter, it's still cold here. So I'm keeping warm by moving around and doing tasks around the kingdom. I stated many entries back that I was in possession of a particular blue cookie. Shadow milk cookie, his body is rather cold it's self so he'll be a wonder come summer. But that's not the point here. I am yet to write out about our complicated relationship.

He's a tough nut to crack. He's a cookie that's built up walls around himself so much it's hard to see through his feelings and emotions and true reason behind his actions. But I understand him.i understand his actions and why he's the way he is, it's true. We've walked similar paths. He's clearly been hurt in the past by someone, he's lost his sense of self and love, friendship and kindness. He was hurting so much that lies were something he discovered as a means of comfort.

I dread the idea that I nearly became that myself many times, refusing my truth for deceit. Deceit is like a forbidden fruit. Delicious yet bad for you. The truth is like a sour candy. Hurts you in the beginning but becomes sweet to you later. I'm glad shadow milk cookie is beginning to learn who he was again. Even if it's a slow process.

How did this occur again? He just showed up on my doorstep one day. He claimed to want vengeance and that I'm "nothing but a pathetic marionette on a string, he'll play like fiddle until I give up what I stole." So I gave him a whole speech about friendship and why I want him to accept it. He "pretended* to get it but I knew. He accepted it from the start. He came here already wanting my friendship but because he's so scared to be vulnerable he has to lie and pretend he's not "weak" or "soft" when really he is.

He has his moments of "weakness" where he allows himself to open up to me and even cry. He's afraid of being judged and while I wish he wasn't I understand why he is. He's the "master of deceit" the once fount of knowledge, I believe even a king. He has many important titles and roles and clearly played a huge role in this world's development. Everything he did had responsibility and immense impact. A cookie as important as that couldn't be "weak" or show "immaturity" let alone be submissive and just give in his emotions. A cookie that claims to be a master of all lies, that governs all truth, deceit and knowledge can't be shown sobbing. It breaks my heart that he can't let his walls break.

But little does he know I've been breaking them slowly, love and kindness is what he needs to build trust in someone to let them see him cry. See him at his lowest which is all the time. He hasn't had a high in maybe eons. I feel horrible for him.

I'm so glad to be the cookie guiding him, being his friend and making him happy. I'm aware he's harmed me, harmed my friends, some probably worse to others. Elder faerie gave up his life to white lily cookie so she could stop shadow milk cookie. Remembering that gorgeous faerie form she took makes me feel. Strange.. she looked pretty, yes but now when I look back I feel nothing. I don't feel love the way I do. I suppose I no longer possess feelings for white lily cookie. I still love her as a friend however, besides. Our paths stray much different from one another. A relationship with her would stop one of us from being happy and feeling fulfilled. I want her to be happy and if that means our paths don't align I accept that.

Admittedly my previous behaviour about her was rather concerning. A giant lily garden made from mourning isn't normal. I recognise that. It's always been an issue for me, I get so overally attached to something or someone it makes me feel ill not to have it. I'm addicted to the scent of lillies. I know. It's a problem but now I'm slowly developing a particular fondness for the milky scent of milk crown flowers. Yes. It means exactly what you think it means.

But at least it's not one sided. I see right through that liar. He's so obvious about it but I'm unsure how much longer I can wait for his walls to break down enough he admits it to me and tells me his feelings. I love shadow milk cookie. I understand him and care about him more than I've cared about the other heroes, white lily cookie and the kids. We even literally share a soul in a way. Could that be anymore perfect? Our paths align perfectly, it's mere fate. I never thought it would be this way but he's just like me. Despite the past, I want to move past it and show him empathy for his hurt. I hate to sound so enthralled despite the past but the thrill rubs me the right way.

He's still cruel but it's kinder now. He calls me names but it's because he's scared to admit how he truly feels, luckily I get it. He doesn't think I do. For the once fount of knowledge, he's not great at realisation. It's quite humorous. He doesn't even realise how much I admire him. I can't help but stare, those silly blue eyes pierce right through me, he even likes the same things as me. Yes I'm gushing. I love the thrill, I love watching a cookie so angry with life finally smile. Learn to care about someone that's not him, today he yelled at me for not eating. Before he'd just point it out and pout but today he screamed at me. He was so worried about me he used his little strength to cook. He then threw a pie at me but it's the thought that counts. Can't be too kind now can he?

every moment with this cookie feels amazing all over. I need him, I'm getting quite impatient. I need him all over me. I want to be.

tomorrow i plan to take him to do some gardening, last time he offered me a flower and it was so sweet. I love watching him warm up to me. We've gotten so far and there's no going back now. This cookie will forever be my dear friend I met through strange means but he'll forever be important to me as a show of my compassion.

I must sleep now. Tomorrow I will write again.

[yume-writes]

hehe, I'm back with the thing that eating Blue Cop mental slowly, which I mentioned in the star guardian sleeping curse. Oh god this thing could even become an independent AU but I think that it might be better suited if it were the same universe with a fragment of god AU.

Firstly, we know that Blue Cop only got close to Flame Nova and according to Flame Nova's words, he said that after years becoming a star guardian Blue Cop was never really able to get along with his colleagues. This made me think of a scene when Blue Cop and Flame are getting close to each other, something might have happened to Blue Cop, the time of the event could be before or after he becomes a star guardian. And you know that Blue Cop also has abandoned fear, so I have been thinking, what if someone made him question his worthiness? 

In my opinion, the reason why a person has abandoned fear might be because of a toxic relationship where the victim had no idea that they were being manipulated and taken advantage of. Connect this with Blue Cop, we could see that it’s quite related. In the previous post of your ask about mcb x tfp headcanon, there is a post about that bot who is big = they’re very important if I’m correct. And Blue Cop being probably being the smallest star guardian at that time could cause some gossip about his true worthiness, about if he is actually strong and well-deserved or just lucky that he got through all of his competitors. Young Blue Cop probably soon hears about the gossip so he tries to use words to turn off the gossip, but a very small part of the star guardian at that time actually believes in Blue Cop’s worthiness. Then he changes to use action to prove his worthiness, but little did he know that at this point some of his mental disorder hints have started to show up. 

Blue Cop probably works very hard for the next few weeks, he actively accepts every job even if it's not his work he still does it, he does everything just for an approval that he shouldn’t care at all. But sadly, his colleagues not only didn’t approve his hard work but also shamelessly came to ask for help with paperwork. Slowly Blue Cop forgets how to refuse things he doesn’t want to do, if someone asks him to do something, he will accept it without hesitation. Without notice, he not only became a people-pleaser but overworked damaging his physical strength. At first it’s just him falling asleep on his desk without noticing, but it’s become to suddenly unconscious in the hall. He was so burned out, his frame had to shut him off just to save his life. 

Things eventually getting worse and worse, his health goes down so quickly that the medics have to warn him that he will die because of overwork. He has to obey the medic's words because, after all he still loves his job, but when he started to refuse helping other work the gossip started again but this time about how pathetic he is. Blue Cop hears about it and his mental start goes down more, even though the gossip COULD BE a pity on him but he still feels like he let everyone down. Both his mental and physical health didn’t improve but went down instead, it became so bad the medics had to keep him in the medical room until he showed some hints of being better up.

After like weeks in the medical room with no improvement, the medics have concluded that he has depression. Things kind of went worse after that, Blue Cop started to believe that he had been abandoned and no one cared for him from the start, which was kinda true. Meanwhile, the gossip had finally come to the higher ranks' ears and they demanded Flame Nova to come down and control the situation. At first, he was just gonna handle only the one who started the gossip but he realized that he should also handle the victim too so things could go back to normal. So he came to the medical room to take a look at Blue Cop’s status and after hearing Blue cop story in his perspective started questioning how he hadn’t crashed out yet.

Flame Nova did help Blue Cop after that, he helped Blue Cop with both physical and mental health and also turned down the gossip for him. No one dares to mess with Blue Cop after that, meanwhile, Flame Nova when he sees Blue Cop's health is improving so he thinks that his work here is done and he could go back to his lonely life. Sadly for him, Blue Cop wouldn’t let him go that easy. He literally follows him everywhere at work, Flame Nova tries to use lots of ways to be left alone but Blue Cop somehow still clings to him all the time. Don’t know since when but Flame Nova had finally given up and accepted his fate that now he has a pathetic clinging rabbit that would follow him everywhere no matter what. And yeah that's how their friendship started.

side note: Blue Cop did get rid of depression but anxiety and fear of being abandoned still haunted him even after he met Flame Nova.

A Fragment of God

Wow let me just, *runs away with a suspiciously asked shape lump in my throat*

But honestly what more can I add to this?!!

It's so good!

You know that Blue Cop would be a people pleaser, especially because of the height = importance thing. Being the smallest star guardian means not many think highly of him. God, I can just think of Blue Cop thinking he has friends only because they give him the smallest bit of attention to get him to do stuff. He does their work and gets, "This is why you're the best, Blue Cop." And he feels so happy at being praised that he ignores the cruel giggles from behind his back

Being pushed more and more still he passes out and slams his head into the floor. People start being so much more cruel to him after he starts refusing, it starts becoming physical, shoving and pushing him to get him to accept. The medics don't even have to keep him in the room, he doesn't want to leave, he doesn't want to face people

Flame Nova was like a light in the darkness, the only person who actually cared for him. He did everything to please him, to prove his worth, to make sure he wasn't abandoned

Which is why it hurts so much to see Flame Nova steal the memory core, to try to stop him, to feel him break his leg, to see a look of apathy on his face as he does it

He abandoned him too, huh

Also do you think Flame Nova starts calling Blue Cop a rabbit? He thinks about Blue Cop being a 'pathetic clinging rabbit' so much that it comes out, albeit in a nicer way

[bags-of-regret]

Oh god theres more

[musubiki]

I KEEP forgetting abt oscar's heterochromia!! Probably bc he closes his eyes so much or is commonly appears in b/w bits LMAO

This is like how I keep forgetting abt Yuna from FFX having heterochromia bc it's so dang subtle xD

ME TOO!!!!!!! and very fair, hes mostly like ^_^ so we dont see it as much!!!!!!!! but i do like how it adds to his charm, most people know him as the ^_^ guy but then flashbang by his beautiful eyes when theyre actually open

[enigmaris]

If Lois Lane had a nickle for every time she had to help an overpowered boy from the midwest with the power of journalism, she'd have two nickles. Which isn't a lot but its weird that its happened twice.

Danny watched as Lois pulled out her phone and pulled up a recording app.

“What are you doing?”

“You came to a journalist and are surprised to get an interview?” She asked him, her tone clearly joking. “What you’ve given me here is great kid, but newspaper clippings and copies of federal laws don’t get the public’s attention. I need a story, Phantom’s the story.”

“I’m not Phantom.”

Lois looked at him, less than impressed. Slowly, she turned the screen of her computer until it was visible to both of them. There, in full clarity, was a front-page story from his hometown newspaper. ‘Danny Phantom saves Bus Full of Children!’ and there was a picture of him in his ghost form, his face crystal clear on her screen.

"Phantom’s a ghost. I’m just a dumb kid.” Danny tried again.

Lois pinched the bridge of her nose with her right hand and muttered to herself.

“Why do all you midwestern boys have the same schtick?”

“I’m sorry?” Danny said, unsure if he should be apologizing or not.

“Changing your last name from Fenton to Phantom does not a secret identity make kid. It might work for most civilians, but anyone familiar with the hero game will clock you from a mile away.”

“I’m not Phantom.”

“Sure, kid. But I’m sure you have a way for me to interview him, right? Because I want to talk to him before I do anything else about your town.”

Danny hugged himself and looked down at his knees.

“Is it really that bad?”

“Not the worst I’ve seen. Wonder Woman’s is paper thin. I'm pretty sure most people in DC know who she is outside of the cape and just don’t say anything because she scares them.”

Danny snorted involuntarily at that, looking back up at the woman.

“What’s going on in your town, Phantom? Why come to a journalist and not the Justice League?”

“The Anti-Ecto Acts got passed like a year ago. They state that only being that produces or contains ectoplasm above a certain amount is considered non-sapient and is to be turned over to the government for disposal.” Danny said. “I put the whole thing in there for you to read, but it's long. Amity Park has a lot of ectoplasm in it. It's seeped into the air and water. Normal human people have it in them now. At first, those agents were just firing at me whenever I finished a ghost fight. I could deal with that. Their aim is terrible anyway. But then they figured out that humans can become contaminated with ectoplasm. They decided that meant the entire town was under their jurisdiction. They've decided that means that no one in town counts as human anymore, that we don’t have rights, that they’re doing us a favor by not just exterminating the entire town like the law says.”

Danny leaned forward, putting his hands on the desk in front of Lois Lane. He looked right into her bright eyes and spoke seriously.

“When it was just ghosts under attack, I didn’t think anyone would care. I’ve tried calling the Justice League for help, but they’ve brushed me off. People need to know what’s happening. Anyone can become ecto-contaminated. You just have to be in the right place at the wrong time. It’s not right what’s happening to Amity, Miss Lane. I came to you because if anyone could get the world to listen, to believe, then it's got to be you.”

And Lois Lane smiled. It was a proud, eager smile. The kind of smile Danny had seen on Sam right after she convinced the school to serve a vegan lunch. He barely held back from shivering.

“Well then, Mr. Phantom.” Lois said, before tapping onto the recording app on her phone and starting a recording. “Let’s begin.”

[wonderthor]

your neighbor sukuna who lives in one of the apartments upstairs may be a rough and dangerous man, but he’s funny and nice to you, so you become friends anyway. you even develop a little crush on him, and when he calls you little pet names like sweetheart and doll, you start to think he might like you too. one night you decide to go out for drinks, and as he drinks more he lets out more about his past and you learn he is a little more dangerous than you thought. he talks about how he broke into people’s houses at night all the time to steal their things and when he finally did get caught and locked up, he had probably broke into over 200 people’s houses by then.

“that’s crazy, but you wouldn’t get that lucky with me though”

he sets his beer down, raising his eyebrow at you in question.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean that im a very light sleeper, always have been. and there’s no way you couldn’t break into my apartment without me knowing it.”

he picks his beer back up and takes a swig before looking back at you with a smirk.

“you sure about that?”

you confidentially smirk back at him.

“oh absolutely. i get woken up if the wind blows a little too hard against the window. i even woke up that one time i had a mouse in my apartment and i could hear it scurrying across the floor. i would definitely hear you open my door and walk around.”

sukuna taps his fingers against the bar counter with his head in his hands and his eyes still on you, thinking.

“how about we make a bet.”

“a bet? on what?”

“if i can get into your locked apartment and into your bedroom without waking you up, i win. if i do, you win.”

“and what do i get when i win?”

sukuna chuckles at that, almost like a villain’s laugh.

“i wouldn’t worry too much about that.”

you roll your eyes at him.

“oh please, you sound way to confident in your impossible chance at winning.”

he laughs at you again.

“i am. there’s a reason i was able to break in so many people’s houses while they were still in there without getting caught. it’s kind of my specialty.”

you take another sip of your drink and lean back.

“your specialty, huh? and you still haven’t mentioned what we get if we win.”

“what do you want?”

his tone caught you off guard for a second, getting deeper and more serious without you expecting it.

“u-um, i don’t know. you can pick.”

he smiles at you again, a devious smile this time as he leans in closer to you.

“if i win, i get to do whatever i want to you. if you win, you get to do whatever you want to me.”

time stops for a minute and you don’t realize that you’re just staring at him until after several seconds.

“what do you m-mean by that?”

he leans back to hold his beer and his playful demeanor is back.

“well according to you, you won’t have to worry about that, right?”

a couple of days went by and you were still on edge. you mentally slept with your eyes open and even kept your bedroom door cracked, just in case you really couldn’t hear him come in. even though you knew it was just a bet and a silly little game, you couldn’t stop your heart from pounding against your chest. maybe because you still didn’t really know what he said meant. and there was also the eerie feeling that you were essentially waiting for him to break into your apartment, like a real robber. like the robber he used to be. and even though you knew he wasn’t dangerous to you and wouldn’t hurt you, you were still admittedly a little scared. you truly didn’t know what to expect.

it had been a couple of weeks now and you were sure sukuna was fucking with you. whenever you saw him in passing, he was his normal playful and flirty self, and mentioning nothing of the bet. you were starting to think he was kidding, just making that up to scare you and mess with you. or you also thought he could have just forgotten, since he was drinking a little and couldn’t have forgotten all about it.

but little did you know that you were playing right into his hands. he was waiting on you to lose your edge, to slowly get comfortable enough again to slip into deep and dream-filled sleeps. that’s why you didn’t expect it, why you didn’t expect to lose.

when you woke up one night, you felt your heart fall out of your body and your eyes almost jump from their sockets. there he was, in your apartment, in your bedroom, on your bed, leaning over you on his hands and knees. when he saw that you were awake and too stunned to speak, he smirked and leaned in closer to you until his face was just inches from yours.

“guess i win, sweetheart.”

[heestoleurgirl]

nishimura riki 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ in which you underestimate how clingy your boyfriend actually is, he loves cuddling and kissing you sm :(

genre: FLUFF, fluff and more fluff pairing: bf!riki x fem!reader wc: 1.4k

masterlist 𖤐.ᐟ

it wasn't your first time sleeping over at riki's place. at this stage in your relationship it had become almost routine, you were able to walk around his apartment as if it were your own.

you were currently in the bathroom, just having finished showering. it wouldn't be unusual for you and riki to shower together, however he insisted on doing the dishes left over from dinner while you got the shower all to yourself.

the soft fabric of his shirt felt even better against your skin after you'd cleaned yourself. his smell immediately enveloped you, leaving your lips curled upwards in a smitten smile. why bring your own pjs when you could just wear his clothes? you hummed along to the faint song playing from your phone as you grabbed your toothbrush and got to work.

about a minute had passed, you were so immersed in brushing your teeth and listening to the music that you barely registered a pair of strong arms wrapping around your waist slowly. your head shot up, only to see riki's tall frame hugging you through the mirror. his face was lazily buried in the crook of your neck, leaving stubborn strands of his hair to tickle your skin.

જ⁀➴ more under the cut!

"ki, i'm busy" you murmured, the words muffled with the toothbrush and toothpaste still in your mouth. you had to lean a bit more forward to reach the sink, since riki had pulled you flush against his chest.

"don't care, missed you" he hummed against your soft skin quietly, he loved how amazing and fresh you smelled after the shower.

you laughed softly in return, you were gone for a maximum of 20 minutes, plus you'd already spent the whole day together. yes, you knew your boyfriend was clingy but somehow it never ceased to surprise you. was this the same man that acted cool and closed off around his friends? you rolled your eyes in endearment, and you knew he'd probably start complaining if he saw it. not like you minded it one bit, you thought his soft demeanour was absolutely adorable. (you don't tell him that, he hates being called cute)

riki tugged at your waist gently, urging you to hurry up without words. "c'mon, stop being impatient" you scoffed and smiled, though he was too busy to listen, distracting himself by kissing your shoulder and neck softly.

the toothbrush was discarded in favour of your skincare products. riki's ears perked up at the sound, finally drawing his attention to what you were doing. his face turned from hopeful to disappointed, were you seriously planning on making him wait even more by putting stupid stuff on your face? not on his watch.

you reached for the first product, but your hand never made it. you let out a surprised yelp as riki picked you up in one swift motion and threw you over his shoulder like you weighed absolutely nothing.

"riki!" you whined in protest, though you knew it was no use. you watched helplessly as he grabbed your phone and strolled out of the bathroom like it was the most normal thing ever. "i need to do my skincare! put me down." you tried sounding firm and strict, but failed comically.

"nah" his grip on your bare thighs was firm, before he practically threw you in his bed. riki didn't waste a second, he climbed in next to you and yanked you against his own body, knowing you might try to escape to finish your nightly routine.

his arms snaked around your waist once again, tight enough that there was no chance of you escaping from him, but also mindful not to hurt you. you groaned, feeling a little irritated that you wouldn't be able to finish your skincare. though it was impossible to stay mad when you looked down and saw your boyfriend cuddling you like you were a damn teddy bear. his long ass legs were now tangled with yours too.

"you're so annoying..." you murmured quietly, your voice lacking any real conviction. the words contrasted with your actions completely as you wrapped your arms around his neck and idly played with strands of his hair.

riki felt like he was in heaven. if it were up to him, you would never leave his bed ever again. he loved the way your small body fit perfectly against his, as if you were made just for him. your skin was soft and warm, making you his personal heater. he could feel every soft rise and fall of your chest, along with the faint sound of your heartbeat.

his hands began to wander mindlessly, slipping under your shirt (his shirt to be precise) to caress the bare skin there. you shivered slightly when you felt his feather light fingers trail down your spine, moving over the curve of your backside and stopping at your thighs to rub them gently.

your unfinished skincare was long forgotten now, all you could focus on was how good his touches felt. it was as if you could feel the love and care behind every single one, even when he was so tired and quiet. you thought your heart might burst from the amount of affection you had for him in this moment.

riki groaned softly when your fingers involuntary tightened in his hair. you removed your hands from his dark locks and cupped his face instead, gently pulling his face up so you could look at him. his messy bangs covered his eyes, but they seemed to be extra round right now as he looked up at you adoringly.

you were no expert on feelings but the look in his eyes made your stomach churn with a sudden rush of butterflies, you swore you could see hearts in his eyes. for a moment you were breathless, just staring at his pretty face.

he slowly inched closer, taking advantage of your distracted state to press his pink lips against yours gently. no matter how many times you kissed, it always made your heart race and your brain feel all fuzzy. his cheeks were warm and soft under your fingers, and time seemed to stop completely around you two.

you weren't sure how much time had passed as you were completely tangled against him, your lips moving each other leisurely. riki's hands wondered yet again, trying to caress and touch as much of your skin as he could, he absolutely adored every inch of you. every time you pulled away a bit for air, he would wait a second at most before diving right back in. the action made you smile against his lips, making your heart beat fast yet again.

minutes later, he pulled away and switched to pressing soft kisses across your face. your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, he didn't leave anything without a gentle smooch. you couldn't help the dumb smile that was plastered on your face, you closed your eyes and quietly let him do as he pleased. one of your hands detached from his cheek to once again stroke his hair.

riki opted to leaning back a little to appreciate your cute face, a faint blush visible on your cheeks. he poked your side lightly to get your attention, making you open and jokingly narrow your eyes at him. "what?"

"nothing. you look pretty." he smirked, hoping to see you become even more flustered, he loved having that effect on you. knowing you were just as affected by him as he was by you.

seeing his smirk, you decided to tease him a little. "i'm gonna go finish my skincare." you announced abruptly and shifted, moving out of his arms as if you were actually about to leave the bed. to nobody's surprise, riki immediately pushed himself up and tugged you right back against him.

"you're not going anywhere, don't even try to leave." he playfully glared at you and pulled you so you were laying under him, caged between his arms.

before you could tease him further, he laid directly on top of you, crushing you with his weight. you let out a groan/laugh and nudged his shoulder, but he wouldn't budge.

"ki! i can't breathe!" you whined, wriggling under him in an attempt to get him to move. unfortunately for you, riki made absolutely no effort to get off you.

"looks like you're having a seizure, i might need to give you mouth to mouth so you don't die." he smirked yet again, and leaned down to kiss you before you could protest or complain.

safe to say, you didn't do your skincare that night. though, feeling his lips against yours was a damn good alternative.

[thebarneschronicles]

A Quiet Escape

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Synopsis: During a holiday stay at Clint Barton’s home, you’ve been desperately trying to steal a moment alone with Bucky—your super-soldier boyfriend—but the Avengers are constantly interrupting. Between Clint’s kids, Steve’s “bromantic” grocery runs, and Nat pulling Bucky into sparring sessions, it feels like you’re constantly fighting for his attention. Frustration finally boils over when you confront Bucky about your lack of privacy, only to discover he’s just as eager for some alone time as you are - and willing to do anything to get it.

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: This is barely a holiday fic with Bucky - it’s mostly smut with barely any plot. I just had a vision. Don’t consider the MCU timeline - everyone is alive and together in this. And Clint’s kids are a little older but still proper kids.

—

You told him no.

The word hit the air like a thunderclap—sharp, unexpected, and rare enough to make his icy blue eyes narrow in disbelief. Then they widened, a flicker of surprise breaking through his usual calm.

Slowly, his hands retreated, leaving the curve of your waist, hot and cold pulling away at once. Arms lifted, palms open, as if surrendering to the sharp finality in your voice.

“Did I… do something?” Bucky’s voice was low, rough around the edges, his frown deepening as a steady breath expanded his chest.

“No,” you said again, firmer this time, though your heart stuttered at the flicker of hurt that crossed his features. Your gaze darted past him, locking onto the narrow crack of the door behind his towering frame. Three sets of eyes stared back, wide and unblinking, from the shadows of the barely open door.

“I don’t get it, doll,” Bucky murmured, confusion twisting his expression. His metal hand lifted toward your hip, the motion almost instinctive, only to grip empty air as you leaned back and pressed both palms flat against his solid chest.

“Bucky,” you hissed, nodding toward the door. “We’ve got company.”

He blinked, brows knitting together, before his head swiveled to follow your line of sight. The moment he turned, the door slammed shut with a loud bang, and the sound of frantic footsteps thundered away on the other side. Three pairs of little feet, retreating as fast as they’d been caught.

A low growl rumbled in his throat as realization dawned, but you couldn’t help the way your lips twitched upward, a mix of exasperation and amusement bubbling in your chest.

Company. There was always company.

At least, there had been for the past week, ever since you’d been swept into the whirlwind that was Clint Barton’s home. What had once been a cozy haven for his family had turned into a buzzing hive of activity, packed with super-soldiers, gods, and genetically—or technologically—enhanced heroes. The Avengers had descended, and while the world might have known them as Earth’s mightiest protectors, to you, they were beginning to feel like the world’s nosiest roommates.

It was the holidays, and by some miracle—perhaps one granted by Saint Nick himself—the planet wasn’t teetering on the edge of destruction. No alien invasions, no terrorist plots, no missiles hurtling toward oblivion, and, to your immense relief, no Hydra agents lurking in the shadows.

For once, it was a somewhat normal holiday season. If you ignored the superpowers and the enhanced DNA floating around the house, that is. More importantly, you were finally getting to see Bucky in an everyday, domestic setting.

And you loved it.

You’d caught him horsing around with Clint’s kids—Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel—who had taken an almost unhealthy fascination with his metal arm. Your normally stoic, brooding boyfriend had become their favorite jungle gym. You’d walked into the living room one afternoon to find all three of them hanging off his arm like little monkeys, giggling uncontrollably as he lifted them effortlessly.

You’d marveled at the sight of him brewing your coffee in the mornings, the way his lips twitched into a subtle smile when he handed you the mug, the steam curling between you. He shoveled snow off the driveway with Clint, laughing at the older man’s dad jokes, and indulged the kids in their never-ending demands to walk the family dog. While they chattered away endlessly, he listened with that quiet patience of his, nodding and occasionally chuckling.

But as much as you adored seeing Bucky like this—calm, grounded, happy—you couldn’t help but notice one glaring downside: you hadn’t had a moment alone together.

Not one.

Between Clint’s kids, Steve dragging Bucky out for “quick” trips to the store (which were never quick), and Nat luring him into sparring sessions when she couldn’t sit still anymore, your time with him had been thoroughly hijacked. And Lila—sweet, mischievous Lila—had an uncanny knack for giving you the stink eye every time you got too close to Bucky.

You were losing your mind.

It had been a month since you’d had real time alone with him. Work had pulled you apart, his responsibilities to the team had swallowed every spare moment, and now, what you’d thought would be your chance to reconnect had turned into a holiday circus.

You’d imagined this trip differently. Romantic walks in the snow, cozy kisses by the fire, maybe even some stolen, steamy nights in the attic of Clint’s house. But those dreams had been systematically dismantled by the chaos around you.

Everyone wanted a piece of Bucky—or you—or both of you. And while the holidays were supposed to be about togetherness, you were starting to think that all this togetherness might drive you both completely insane.

You let out a frustrated sigh, closing your eyes as you leaned back against the door of your shared attic bedroom. From down the hall, the giggles of your boyfriend's three tiny shadows echoed, fading into the room they’d darted into.

The sound of your frustration pulled Bucky closer to you, his hand finding the doorknob near your hip. With a gentle turn, he pushed the door open and guided you inside. The soft glow of the moon coming in through the large window spilled across his face, accentuating the sharp lines of his features as he quietly shut the door behind you both.

“Alright,” he started, his voice low but edged with concern. “You’ve been sighing like that for three days now, doll. What’s eating at you?”

You tilted your head to look at him, folding your arms. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that I haven’t had you to myself in weeks. Or that every time I even think about kissing you, someone—usually under four feet tall—pops up like a whack-a-mole.”

You pointed toward the direction of the room where the kids were hidden, having interrupted you and Bucky’s rare alone time for the millionth time today alone. You didn’t miss the way Bucky’s lips twitched, as if he was trying not to smile, and it just aggravated you further.

“They’re kids, sweetheart. What am I supposed to do? Ignore them?”

“No,” you grumbled, seemingly for the thousandth time, dragging your hands down your face. “But I didn’t realize signing up to be your girlfriend also meant being a full-time babysitter, snow-shoveling assistant, and third wheel to Steve freaking Rogers on your bromantic grocery runs.”

That did it—he laughed, a low, rich sound that made your annoyance falter for a moment.

“Don’t laugh. I’m serious!” you snapped, shooting him a glare, dropping down at the edge of the bed, both hands sliding into your hair, a clear sign of the frustration that seemed to be pouring out of your pores.

“I know, I know,” he said, holding up both hands in mock surrender. “I get it. This… isn’t how I pictured this trip either.” He crossed the room to sit beside you, his weight making the mattress dip. His flesh hand reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “I miss you too, doll.”

You softened at his words but refused to let go of your irritation entirely. “Then do something about it, Barnes. You’re a super soldier, a former trained assassin, a ghost agent—surely you can figure out how to steal your girlfriend away for five minutes without someone barging in.”

His eyes gleamed mischievously. “You think I haven’t been trying? Clint’s kids are like little spies. Lila’s practically Natasha junior. And Steve? Forget it. Guy has a radar for when I’m about to kiss you.”

“Of course he does,” you groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “He’s Captain America. Always watching. Always judging. It’s like dating a guy whose best friend is a giant Boy Scout.”

You paused, raising an eyebrow. “Wait—do you think Steve’s ever even been kissed?”

Bucky snorted, the sound so uncharacteristic it made you glance up. “What? You think I’d know that?”

The furtive way he avoided your eyes told you he did.

“C’mon, you’ve known him forever.” You leaned forward, narrowing your eyes. “He gives me virgin energy, Buck.”

“Virgin energy?” Bucky repeated, a smile spreading over his lips despite himself. “Doll, you’re gonna kill me.”

“I’m serious!” you said, barely stifling your own laugh. “The guy probably spent the ’40s too busy punching Nazis to even hold someone’s hand. And now? Forget it. I bet if you kissed me in front of him, he’d faint on the spot.”

Bucky dragged a hand over his face, unable to hide his amusement. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You know I’m right,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your foot. Your stomach tightened as his flesh hand wrapped around your ankle, tugging you closer. “It explains so much,” you went on, voice faltering slightly when he dragged his hand up your inner thigh, sending a shiver through you. “He’s probably the reason we never get a moment alone,” you added, squirming under his touch. His hand settled firmly on your hip, his chest solid against you as he laid beside you, his head propped up on his metal hand, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What, because he’s a cock block?” Bucky asked, voice dropping lower.

“Exactly!” you exclaimed, shifting to allow his one leg between yours, ignoring the intense burn that settled low in your belly. “Think about it—if he’s not getting any, there’s no way he’s letting anyone else get laid. Misery loves company.”

Bucky shook his head, his grin making your heart flutter. “You’ve officially lost it, doll.”

“And yet, here we are. Still not kissing,” you shot back, looking at him pointedly, lifting yourself up onto your elbows so you could tilt your head up, lips ghosting over his.

“I’m done talking about Steve and his virginity,” he said, icy blue eyes dropping to your lips, his nose dragging over yours. “And for the record, doll, you’re the only one I want to see faint when I kiss you.”

“Oh, smooth recovery, Barnes,” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself, breathing shakily with his proximity.

He leaned closer, brushing his lips against yours, voice low and rumbly in his chest, sending a surge of heat from your toes all the way to the center of your body. “How about this? Tomorrow morning, we sneak out. Just you and me. We’ll take the bike, get some coffee, and maybe… I don’t know… find a spot where no one can find us for a few hours.”

You stared up at him, your annoyance giving way to hope. “Promise?”

His frown softened into something more sincere, understanding. “Promise. I’ll even turn my phone off. No Avengers. No interruptions. Just us.”

“Okay,” you whispered, allowing yourself to relax into the idea.

But just as his lips brushed yours, the door creaked open, and a small voice called out.

“Bucky?”

You both froze, and he let out a soft curse under his breath. “Yeah, Nate?”

“Can you come read us a story? Lila said you promised!”

You turned your head, glaring at the ceiling while Bucky sighed, standing up. He glanced back at you with a sheepish smile. “Rain check?”

“Nate,” you called out, loud enough for the little boy to hear. “When you’re older, remind me to teach you about boundaries.”

His laughter followed Bucky out the door, leaving you to bury your face in the pillow, groaning dramatically.

When he returned fifteen minutes later, you were still face-down, your muffled voice rising from the comforter. “Why are you a children magnet? It’s like you’re Santa Claus, and they’re all lining up for their turn.”

Bucky chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I guess I’m just irresistible.”

You lifted your head just enough to glare at him. “You used to be scary. Remember those days? Big, brooding Winter Soldier? People crossed the street to avoid you. I miss that guy.”

He leaned down, grinning as he kissed the top of your head. “That guy never would’ve gotten you to fall for him.”

“Yeah, well, that guy wouldn’t be getting interrupted every five minutes either,” you muttered, pulling the pillow back over your head.

The first rays of sunlight peeked through the attic window, casting a warm glow over the small room. You stirred at the soft sound of movement, the creak of the floorboards familiar enough to pull you from sleep. Cracking one eye open, you saw Bucky crouched by the foot of the bed, lacing up his boots.

“Where do you think you’re going?” you mumbled, voice thick with sleep as you pushed yourself up on your elbows. The room is warm and you can smell the soap and shampoo coming out of the bathroom, the steam of Bucky’s shower still rolling out under the door even after he’d gotten out of it.

He glanced over his shoulder, wet hair dropping onto his forehead, his dog tags dangling from his neck, a sly smile playing on his lips. “You, me, the bike, and some much-needed alone time, remember?”

You blinked, processing his words, before groaning and flopping back onto the bed. “It’s too early, Barnes.”

“It’s not. You just want to stay in bed,” he teased, leaning over you, his lips brushing your temple. “C’mon, doll. Coffee awaits. And I’ve got a spot picked out where no one will find us. Not even Steve.”

“Not even Steve?” you repeated, hope warming your heart, cracking a smile despite yourself. “That’s ambitious.”

Bucky chuckled, his fingers trailing lightly over your arm. “Trust me, I’ve planned this escape like a military op. Now get dressed before Clint’s kids wake up and ruin everything.”

The mention of his tiny shadows jolted you awake. You sat up, pushing your hair out of your face. “Fine, but if one of them catches us sneaking out, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” he said, grinning as he stepped back to let you get ready.

Half an hour later, you were showered and wrapped in your warmest coat and scarf, perched on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle as it roared to life. The crisp morning air nipped at your cheeks as you sped away from the Barton farmhouse, the sound of the engine loud enough to drown out any lingering holiday chaos.

“Where are we going?” you shouted over the wind, your arms tightening around his waist.

“You’ll see,” he called back, his voice filled with a levity you hadn’t heard in days.

After about half an hour, he pulled off onto a narrow dirt road that wound through a dense forest. The bike came to a stop in a clearing, where a small cabin stood sturdy and welcoming, the promise of warmth, quiet, and alone time beckoning you inside.

The cabin was nestled among tall pines, their branches heavy with snow that caught the early morning light, casting a soft glow over the place. The structure was rustic, with a large stone chimney rising above the roof, smoke curling lazily into the pale blue sky. The wooden exterior, darkened by age, gave off a comforting, lived-in feel, as if it had been waiting just for this moment. The windows glowed faintly from within, a sign of the warmth that awaited inside.

Bucky killed the engine and swung off the bike, turning to help you down. “What do you think?”

You looked around, taking in the serene beauty of the scene, the stillness of the forest enveloping the cabin like a protective embrace. “It’s perfect,” you said, your voice full of awe.

He grabbed the large bag he’d stuck on the bike’s saddlebag and handed it to you. “Coffee, as promised. Some other things as well. And no interruptions. Just us.”

You felt the warmth seep through you, both from the shee relief you felt and the way he was looking at you, his eyes soft with affection. “Okay, Barnes. I’ll admit it. You nailed this one.”

“Damn right I did,” he said, tugging you closer, lips brushing against your temple. His arm wrapped around your shoulder as the two of you headed towards your little safe haven. A satisfied smirk played on his lips, and you could feel the tension in his body ease as you walked together, just the two of you, heading toward the cozy cabin.

When you stepped inside, the scent of wood and pine mixed with something warm and comforting. The interior was just as inviting as the outside. The open space was simple but cozy, with a stone fireplace built into one wall. There was a leather couch near the hearth, a soft rug underfoot, and shelves stacked with books and a few family heirlooms - you didn’t have to ask him who it belonged to, the pictures lining the shelves told you you and Bucky weren’t the only couple who sometimes needed a reprieve from the Barton household.

Through the large windows, you could still see the vast expanse of the snow-covered forest, but inside, it felt like you were in a world of your own.

Bucky dropped the bag at the kitchen counter and turned to you, his expression softer now that you were finally alone. “How does it feel? No Steve, no Clint, no kids…”

“Perfect,” you murmured, crossing the room to stand by the fire, arms crossed over your chest.

Bucky followed you, his hands finding your waist as he pressed himself gently against your back. The cold of his clothes from the sharp wind outside sent a shiver down your spine, but the heat of his touch, his body against yours, was enough to make your heart race. The tension between you was palpable, growing bigger with each mile you put between you and the Barton farmhouse, unwinding itself as the space grew and crackling in the air like an electric current.

His hands, one cold and one warm, were steady on your hips, anchoring you in a way that made you feel safe and desired all at once. It wasn’t just the fire in front of you that made the room warm—it was the pull between you two, the undeniable chemistry that neither of you could ignore.

You tilted your head back slightly, allowing him to place a kiss on your neck, his warmth seeping into you, the fire’s crackle making the moment feel even more intimate. “This was exactly what we needed”, you hummed, eyes fluttering shut.

“Exactly,” he agreed, his breath warm against your skin. “Now, where were we before we got interrupted last night?”

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “I think you were about to make me faint.”

His amused laugh was the only sound that filled the space between you two, a low, warm chuckle that made your heart flutter. Then, before you could react, his hands turned you around gently, pulling you into him as his lips captured yours in a deep, consuming kiss. For the first time in what felt like forever, there were no distractions—just the two of you, wrapped in the fire of the moment.

His tongue traced the curve of your bottom lip, a teasing stroke that made your breath hitch, and then he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer. His hands slipped beneath your jacket, finding the soft, heated skin of your hip, and you sighed into his mouth, a sound full of longing and need. You melted against him, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, your head tilting to the side to allow him more access. The taste of him overwhelmed your senses, the familiar warmth of his mouth, the intensity of his touch, and you felt your legs grow weak, trembling with the hunger that surged between you.

Every inch of your body seemed to respond to him, to the press of his chest against yours, the way his hands moved with a quiet urgency that matched the pounding of your heart. You lost yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of his lips, his touch, as if everything outside of this moment didn’t exist. There was nothing but him and the intoxicating pull of his affection, and you knew, in that instant, that nothing else mattered but being with him—your Bucky, in the most intimate way you’d ever shared.

It had been so long—too long—since you’d been able to be this close to him, to feel his body against yours without hesitation. The longing, the quiet yearning that had built up between you, was finally starting to break free. You could feel the weight of it in every touch, in the way his fingers brushed over your skin, as if he was finally letting go of the last remnants of his walls. It was like you were rediscovering each other in this moment—his warmth, his presence—reminding you of the man he was when he allowed himself to be vulnerable with you.

His breath was warm against the back of your neck, and you could feel him trembling ever so slightly as you turned toward him, your eyes meeting his. In his gaze, you saw the storm of emotions—desire, need, love—that he rarely let others see, let alone act upon. The man you loved, the man who had once been a stranger even to himself, was now standing in front of you, and for the first time, he wasn’t pulling away. His lips hovered just above yours, the anticipation between you two thick, hanging like a breath waiting to be taken.

It hadn’t always been like this—him, so open, so ready to let you in. There was a time when he had been reluctant to trust, when the thought of giving his heart to someone had been suffocating, terrifying, downright impossible. But you had weathered the storm with him, through the nightmares, the quiet doubts, the fear that he wasn’t worthy of love. And with every touch, every word, you had proven to him that you could be his anchor. You were his safe place. His refuge. And now, he let you in, fully, in ways he had never allowed before.

His lips found yours in a longer kiss that was soft at first, a gentle exploration, but the hunger, the need, was undeniable. You could feel it in the way his hands tightened around you, the urgency behind his lips a testament to the desperation you shared throughout all the weeks you had been deprived of each other’s bodies, each other’s skin. He kissed as if he feared this moment would slip away, like so many had when friends had knocked on closed doors and children had tugged him away for a snow fight.

You responded in kind, deepening the kiss, pulling him closer, needing him just as much. The world outside, all of it faded into the background. There was only this—him, you, the electric tension that had been building for so long, and the quiet promise that this was just the beginning.

As his hand slid up your side, tracing the curve of your body, you could feel the weight of everything between you both—the time it had taken to get here, the quiet moments of trust and understanding, the slow building of love. But now, in the heat of the moment, all that mattered was the connection. The way he held you like you were the only thing that mattered, the way his touch seemed to ignite something inside you that you couldn’t explain.

He undressed you in a way that could only be described as deliberate—although his mouth was hungry, his hands took their time with every piece of clothing, hot and cold dragging over every inch of skin he managed to uncover. It was maddening, really, the calm he could have in certain moments where all you wanted was for him to lose control.

You pulled away from him slightly, your lips curling into a teasing smile. “You know,” you said, your voice low and sultry, “if you keep undressing me like that, I’m going to start thinking you’re waiting for someone to interrupt us… or that you’re torturing me on purpose.”

His grin was slow, all confidence and mischief. “Maybe I am,” he teased, his voice rougher now. “Maybe I like making you wait.”

You raised an eyebrow, your fingers running lightly down the front of his leather jacket, lingering on the zipper. “You know, I could make you wait too,” you purred, fingers pulling on the zipper until it opened, enough for you to drag your hand under the sweater he had underneath, his skin blazing.

He could’ve once been called the Winter Soldier, but there was nothing cold about Bucky. The icy blue of his eyes sent wild fires burning through your skin, his own skin always running a few degrees hotter than yours… you always joked he was your personal furnace, but it made it all the more true as you dragged your icy fingers under the thick knit that covered his torso.

Bucky’s breath hitched slightly, his hands tightening around your waist as if he was fighting the urge to pull you closer, to devour you. “Doll–” he said in warning, the edge of longing crystal clear in his voice.

You leaned in closer, lips grazing his ear as you whispered, “Maybe… maybe I’ll make you wait. Maybe I won’t let you touch me… maybe I’ll go back to the house and leave you like you did me… desperate, warm and so wet… Let’s see how you like that…”

You could feel him shudder at the words, the tension between you two growing thicker with every second. “You have no idea, Bucky… no idea how empty I’ve been, how much I’ve been aching–”

Before you could continue, he pressed his lips back to yours, deeper this time, more urgent. He didn’t hold back, his hands roaming over your body, tugging you closer, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the fire building in both of you.

"God, I’ve missed you," Bucky breathed against your lips, his voice strained with need, his words sending a shiver down your spine. “You have no idea how much.”

You laughed softly, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, the feel of him intoxicating. “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” you replied, your lips brushing over his, teasing, before pulling back slightly, your hands working quickly to push his jacket off. "But I guess we can talk about it later..."

His grip on you tightened, the words barely leaving his mouth before his lips moved to your neck, trailing hot, desperate kisses down your skin. “Later?” His voice was rough, his breath a heated whisper against your throat. "You think I can wait any longer?"

You nodded, a teasing smile curling on your lips, but it faltered when he pushed you back onto the leather couch, his lips never leaving your skin. You didn’t mind. Not one bit. This was finally your moment—just the two of you. The cabin, the fire, the stolen time, and all the teasing, the tension, the pure want that had been simmering between you two for so long.

"I want your mouth busy with something else," you gasped, voice shaking as he kissed a path lower down your skin.

Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, his lips pulling into a wicked smile as he moved, doing exactly what you suggested. "I think I like the sound of that”, his voice low and teasing. His hands had already stripped your jacket away somewhere along the way to the couch, and now they were eager, pulling your top up, inch by inch, exposing more of your skin. His mouth followed, leaving heated kisses down your stomach as his hands worked to unfasten the waistband of your pants.

Your breath caught in your throat when his teeth grazed the spot just below your belly button, and you could feel your body tightening in anticipation. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, and you instinctively arched your back, urging him on, breathing getting harder as he exposed the top of your knickers, the skin of your thighs, your knees, little by little until he finally took away your pants like the obstacle they have been - with a violent sway of his arm, that landed the garment in a heap across the room. “Bucky…” you whispered.

He wasn’t gentle when he maneuvered you, grabbing you by the backs of your thighs and moving your body until he was kneeling between your open legs, hands pushing your knees back until he could spread you further, eyes hooded as he took you in.

You know he could see the damp, dark spot on your knickers - the one you had purposefully picked in the hopes you’d both find a bathroom somewhere and take advantage of it - but you couldn’t be self conscious about it. Never in your wildest dreams you had expected him to find a place for you to fully enjoy each other’s bodies and as he dragged the fingers of his metal arm down your covered slit, you silently thanked Clint and Laura for having a sex drive.

“Bucky–” you repeated, whiny and desperate, eyes stuck on where he’d slipped his fingertips on the side of your bottons, gliding slowly up and down, the cold of the vibranium pressing to your heated folds and sending goosebumps all over your body. “Quit teasing me!” you gasped, breath catching as he pulled on the damp fabric until he could finally see your glistening slit, his lips parting in awe, eyes darkening and filled with promise.

He smiled, the sight making your stomach twist, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins. "Teasing you? Baby, I’m just getting started," he murmured, his hands slid up and down your thighs with deliberate slowness, savoring the way you trembled beneath his touch, his mouth pressed to the inside of your knee as he leaned in.

You shivered, your hands reaching up to tug at the back of his hair, a muffled growl leaving his lips as he traveled further down your body, until his mouth was hovering over your aching cunt. "I swear, if you don't get on me, I—"

"Or what?" he teased, leaning down to brush his lips against your slit, just barely grazing them before he pressed a kiss to your mound. "You think you can fight me?” His voice was thick with amusement, but there was a rough quality to it that made your pulse race.

“I could strangle you… with my thighs…” You threatened with no real intent behind it, eyes closed for a moment as you tried to steady yourself, swallowing thickly against a gasp when you felt his flesh fingers spread you open, exposing more of your dripping core to him.

“And I’d die a happy man”, Bucky breathes, his brow furrowed in concentration as he licks his lips. “A very happy man…” he adds before he pulls your clit between his lips with the softest of sucks.

When you first started dating, the sheer idea of having Bucky’s mouth between your legs had been comical to you. The broody super soldier, the stoic, serious, impenetrable walls he’d put up made you believe he hadn’t been capable of this kind of passion - had he even had time to learn what giving head was?

You knew he wasn’t totally oblivious - you’ve read the files, you knew he was a ladies man in the 40s, the kind to run away from armed daddies who caught him with a hand up their daughter’s skirts. But with everything he’d gone through, the many years he’d spend locked away - from his body and his mind - you had no idea how far his… sexual education (or should you say experience) had gone.

So it is an understatement to say you were shocked when he first begged to get his mouth on you… and how much he enjoyed it. Every time he did you’d praise his skill, his eagerness, his urge to please and you’d get paid double the effort, double the delight.

This time was no different, as he dragged his tongue up and down your slit, humming when his lips closed around your aching clit. He was thorough, leaving no spot untouched, tongue dipping into your weepy entrance as he buried his face closer, unashamed and unabashed.

All you can do is moan and scratch his scalp, pulling his hair whenever his cheeks hollow and he suckles harshly against you. Every time Bucky puts his mouth on you, you can’t pick what you like most: when he’s lapping at your entrance with greed or sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves, but either way your toes curl and you pull him closer as he feasts as if it’s his last meal.

He’s so lost in it at times, he’s almost sloppy in his technique, choosing to lie there and taste your cunt and smell you. You’re lost in the sensations when he lazily probes your entrance before he pushing two of his fingers in and spreading them, exploring you gently, and you swallow back a moan.

“Bucky, please,” you whisper, face scrunching and you bite your lip, one of your heels digging into the couch. You’re begging for him, his body, his cock, because this? This is torture.

Because you haven’t had him in weeks and you feel everything - from the insistent licking of his tongue against your clit to the scissoring of his fingers - and it’s coming quicker than you had expected. He’d been between your legs for all of five minutes, but you’re barely able to take the combination of his eagerness and your needs, all of it stretching the elastic band that is your orgasm farther and farther, until you’re ready to snap.

“I don’t—“ you gulp, trying to push him off with your foot but he grabs you by the ankle with his free hand, icy metal fingers wrapping around your ankle with a tight hold. “I— fuck me, you’re gonna make me c-cum!”

Your words are supposed to deter him - to stop the assault on your swollen cunt, to stop the ballooning of pleasure building deep in your belly from the way his fingers work you - but he presses his face closer, because that’s what he wants. He won’t be able to do this again, not when you’re in a house full of children and heroes and people who can’t seem to understand what privacy is. This is what he wants to hold with him and carry with him when he’s got a long night with you laying by his side, unable to touch you how he so desperately needs, how he’s so sure both of you want. He wants to be able to bite his lip and still find ways to taste you from his memory.

Bucky pulls away with a filthy wet noise, lowering his forehead to your thigh, his voice suddenly raw. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Wanted you,” he confessed, his hands gently spreading your thighs further, his touch reverent, as if he couldn’t believe this was finally happening. “I’ve missed being this close to you.” His lips brushed your opening, a smacking kiss making your thighs tremble before he licks deeper, more fervent than the last.

“Me too,” you cry out, hips lifting up towards his mouth, sweat slicking down the back of your neck. The urgency in your body mirrored the way he gripped you tighter, his hands firm around your hips, pulling you closer, never wanting to let go.

“Fuck, Bucky, come on–”, you cry out, both hands shooting down to grab at his hair. “This isn’t how I wanted– I want you in me”, you beg, unabashed, and he groans against you, the vibrations of it pushing you closer to the edge.

“Give me a good one,” he breathes out, pulling away for a second to nuzzle at your clit. “Just one good one and I’ll give you my cock, doll. How’s that?”

It’s a delicate negotiation, but he never falters. Not until you’re biting down hard on the heel of your hand, desperately trying to silence the scream clawing its way up your throat, shaking thighs closing around his head as he brings you to your orgasm, your other hand twisting into the shoulder of his sweater.

His fingers are just as insatiable as his mouth and you’re panting, crying out his name pulling him closer and pushing him away until the waves of pleasure, one after the other, have subsided and your vision - that had gone dark, stars dancing behind your closed eyelids - is less blurry.

“That’s it,” Bucky breathes, teeth closing on the supple skin of your thigh, his chin, nose and lips glistening with your slick. “That’s my girl.”

Your fingers are shaky but insistent as you pull him upwards, profanities leaving your mouth as he drags himself until he’s settled between your spread legs, jean covered cock pressing against your swollen cunt. He’s still wearing the damned sweater and you nearly scratch him raw in your desperate attempt to pull it off, seeking bare skin and intimacy you had been craving.

When he finally pulls it off and settles on top of you, you taste yourself on his tongue, fingers dragging over the expanse of his broad back, the kiss animalistic and unbidden. “God, I love your mouth–”, you confess, heat pinking up your cheeks at the sincerity.

“Just my mouth?”, Bucky questions, muttering against your neck. You can feel his smile on your skin and you can’t but bite into your bottom lip.

“Your stamina too,” you whisper, moaning when he ruts against your core, the shape of his cock clear even under the fabric of his pants. “Cause I’m not done with you”, you shake your head, accepting the kiss he licks into your mouth.

"You’ve waited long enough, doll”, His eyes locked with yours, a playful yet intense look in them, his lips curling into a smile that spoke of things only the two of you understood. “I’m not going to stop now.”

[rubys-domain]

so... i think i've achieved consistent one-phase pyro regisvine by leveling up kazuha's burst to 6 and bennett's aquila favonia to 85. which is good. but it can be better. i want to get to the point where popping chongyun's burst is enough to kill it. for now i still have to do some normals and a second pop of his skill in order to kill it

[sheeezu]

Things to expect when you've mastered shifting

This isn't the normal "oh you'll feel on top the world" kind of post which just hypes up everything and the sole purpose is to motivate. This is (???) the logistics, the indepth version of what you'll face psychologically.

I've shifted close to about a hundred times, whether it was from this reality, or shifting within a reality I shifted.

This is all from my personal experience, you might experience differently.

⋆ Disassociation: when you shift back to your original reality, you'll often times confuse both reality's memory, of course, we all know this, doesn't matter if you shifted or not. But what I've seen no one talk about is that sometimes events and certain objects from your DR will unintentionally manifest into your CR, just because of how deeply rooted they become in your subconscious. For example, I had maybe mentioned this somewhere else, but in my DR I had scripted expensive china cups, which broke on my second day being there. Well two weeks ago my family was gifted the same teacups (some details were off) and one of them managed to get a crack in them after we served the guests tea in it.

⋆ Weird Dreams: Not only is the concept of the dreams weird, but overall mechanics of it are unusual as well (I didn't shift unconsciously in my dreams, that's one boundary I've established)

For example, dreams with people claiming to know the future, telling me, and it coming true the next day, but it being minor details, people from my DRs channeling me, dreams which involves falling out of reality/finding the end of the multiverse.

Dreams which involves me floating, strong winds which blow away entirely of the void reality (CR), I had started getting this dream since I've wanted to permashift, the wind is so strong and I feel it, I'm usually at my college and or doing a mundane activity in my current reality, everything dissapears and I end up in the void state for the rest of the night.

Once my S/O visited me in my dream, he asked me to come back home, it was a lucid dream so I consciously agreed because I couldn't deny him; ended up in my home reality.

⋆ Feeling weirdly sad about your CR: this one might be personal to me. truth be told, I haven't studied a single day since I've successfully shifted. This year all of my classmates and age fellows are going to start looking at university applications, the ones they mention are usually universities I used to dream all day long about getting into, when I didn't know about shifting. It forms a pit in my heart, the passion I once used to have regarding hardwork by investing blood sweat tears into studying, pinterest board filled with quotes such as "some dreams are worth more than my sleep" not stirring anything within me. It's not that I think I can't get these things, i know i can just shift to a parallel reality and get it, but I just don't want to, I don't feel the same about this reality anymore, slowly letting it go, no matter how much I try to cling onto it, I know I was never meant to be here.

⋆ Personality changes: When you become an expert at shifting its no question that you'd shift very frequently. Those DR selfs would influence your personality, and people can think you're developing a split personality disorder.

Take me as an example, if you look at the posts on my blog, you'd notice a different tone in each one of them, some are in a more softer tone and the others feel clinical.

⋆ Putting your DR family first, even though they're not here: I don't know how to explain this one, so I'd just take an example out of my own experience again.

I was out shopping with my mother for sweaters, the ones we were coming across were really good quality, but I could only think of my S/O, she was pointing out the things she thought I'd like, but I kept looking at the men's sweater, subconsciously trying to pick one out for him, which weirded my mother out slightly.

...

Why am I crying.

Anyways I have planned to permashift out of this reality before new year, it was my childhood dream to blog, but I was too shy to do so and never had anything common with anyone. But I've finally completed the final thing on my list, alongside with meeting my cousin who I adored, I decided to add her to my DR.

That's it, I'll go on and answer the 50 asks in my inbox.

...

[amiableness]

dad!james not being able to contain himself around reader and just kisses her 24/7 he’s always trying to press a kiss against her lips or cheeks and maybe henry’s picked up on it too so he starts kissing readers cheeks every time he’s close

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 817 words

i changed it a tad but hope this still works! series masterlist ; main masterlist

After sleeping with James, a sickening worry had settled in—you feared things might become awkward, or worse, that he’d want to slow things down to avoid confusing Henry. You understood completely, knowing how important it was to keep everything stable for his son. But after wanting James for so long, feeling his hands all over you and the heat of his kisses. The idea of returning to the way things were felt almost unbearable.

“Strawberries or blueberries?” Holding up a container as you say their name, you stand at the table in front of Henry, who looks terribly sleepy but still flickers his eyes back and forth as he weighs his options. His waffles sit before him with a dollop of cream slowly melting from the warmth.

Nerves swirl in your stomach at the thought of seeing James, but you try to push them down. Waking up before him, you decided to make breakfast, hoping the simple task might help dodge any awkward conversations. It’s a desperate attempt to keep things normal, a way to distract yourself from the uncertainty of what might happen once he walks into the kitchen.

“Both.” Henry finally affirms, giving a confident nod that makes his messy curls bounce. All he needs is a pair of glasses, and he’d be a miniature version of James—not that he isn’t already.

You sprinkle both types of berries over Henry’s waffles, his little hands directing you to add just a few more each time you try to pull away. As you remind him to eat what he has first and that he can always have seconds later, you’re so focused on him that you don’t notice James entering the kitchen.

As you turn to place the berries on the counter, you startle at the sight of James standing in front of the coffee maker in nothing but plaid pajama pants. Your gaze instinctively trails down his chest, and when you look up again with a nervous swallow, you find him watching you with a knowing smirk.

“Morning, darling.”

You offer him a soft smile and murmur a quiet “good morning.” To your surprise, he strides directly toward you. When you instinctively take a step back, a puzzled frown crosses his face. Without missing a beat, he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in and pressing you against his chest.

You let out a surprised gasp and glance over your shoulder at Henry, who watches the scene intently as he takes a bite of his waffles. A hint of purple stains the corners of his mouth.

“He’s watching us, Jamie.” You whisper, casting a warning glance. James looks between you and his son, his expression one of confusion.

“Is that a problem?” He asks, his voice calm.

“Well, I—” You begin, but the words falter as James presses a slow, tender kiss to your cheek. His lips curl into a teasing smile as he pulls back and watches you struggle to gather your thoughts.

“What, baby?” He teases, his voice a soft murmur against your ear.

“I didn’t think you’d want to act like this in front of him.” You reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Like what?” He asks, his tone curious as he holds you close.

“A couple.” You clarify, feeling the weight of your words.

James raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “Are we not?” He questions, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

“We didn’t really talk much about that last night.” You admit, your voice faltering slightly as you struggle to find the right words.

“You’re right. We didn’t,” he agrees, his hand gently cupping the side of your cheek. A smug glint dances in his eyes as he leans in, his warm breath mingling with yours before his lips meet yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The touch is tender, as if he can’t get enough, his lips moving slowly against yours, drawing you deeper into his arms. As he pulls away just enough to look at you, a playful, yet affectionate smile tugs at his lips. “I just sort of assumed you were mine after last night.”

You’re flustered, staring up at James with wide eyes. He smiles down at you, brushing his thumb over your cheek as you roll your lips together to hide your smile.

“Why does Daddy get kisses?” Henry squeaks out, his words tumbling over each other. “I want kisses from darling too!”

James laughs, giving you another quick kiss before letting you go and heading towards Henry. He scoops his son up, showering him with kisses all over his face. Henry bursts into laughter, his giggles punctuated by playful sputters as he repeats that he wanted kisses from you. You stand in the kitchen, your fingers lightly tracing your lips as you watch the sweet exchange between them, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write! 💌

[teawithcherries]

wrong number

Ghost receives a text that leaves him absolutely reeling. OR the guy that you texted on accident is weirdly flirtatious and you're kind of into it?

1.1k words. lieutenant!Ghost x chef!reader (f). reader’s age unclear but 18+ (not a minor!!). divider by @plutism.

Unknown: SOS!!!!

Ghost immediately goes deathly still, eyes zeroing in on the text message notification that blinks across his phone before disappearing.

Having a SAS issued phone means that his phone number should be impossible to find. He doesn’t receive spam texts or calls and the few people who have his number know better than to bother him when he’s on paperwork duty. Which means that something is not right.

His phone buzzes again, and he feels his gut churn sourly.

Unknown: (1 attachment)

He doesn’t have time to think, he just braces himself for the worst. A photo of Johnny bleeding out with a gunshot wound? Coordinates to a location where Gaz is being held hostage? 

He’s already reaching for his kit in case he needs to jump on a helo when the attachment, an image, finally opens up.

The breath that was suspended in his chest slowly releases like a deflated balloon as he tries to make sense of the carnage on his phone screen. Yet, it isn’t one of his squadmates that’s crying out for help. Rather, it’s an image of a Cornish hen that’s been burnt to an absolute charred crisp. 

His mind is racing at a speed that he can’t quite process, his eyes methodically scanning the photo for any clues or hidden messages in the image. 

Yet, even to his trained eye, the image is perfectly normal. The background of the photo is a standard flat kitchen, slightly disorganized with cooking materials and ingredients scattered about. Your feet are visible in the corner of the photo, you’re wearing a pair of girly pajama shorts and bunny slippers.

His brows scrunch together in confusion, thoroughly perplexed and slightly annoyed at the mental gymnastics that he is undertaking to try to make sense of these messages.

Ghost: Who are you?

Your reply is instant, confirming his suspicion that you have truly somehow managed to message him by accident.

Unknown: It’s (♥︎), your classmate from culinary school!

Ghost glances at the image again, brows scrunching in disbelief that you are training to become a chef considering the charred and blackened state of the bird.

Ghost: Wrong number.

Unknown: Ah, how embarrassing. So sorry to disturb you! I must have jotted down my classmate’s number incorrectly during class. Have a lovely rest of your evening! 

That’s that then.

He sighs and sets his phone on his worn desk, glancing back at the mountain of paperwork that awaits him. He’s several hours away from finishing up, and Price will absolutely have his head if doesn't get it all done.

Yet, for reasons he isn't willing to unpack, the image of your bare legs tucked into those ridiculously fuzzy bunny slippers lingers in the back of his mind. His fist twitches, annoyed with himself for getting so hot and bothered over a mere glimpse of bare ankle.

You’re just another nameless, faceless muppet in the void of the digital age. Even responding back to your text message is probably a breach of security protocol that could land him in another hour long cybersecurity training seminar if he isn't careful.

So Ghost isn’t sure why he bothers picking up his phone and typing a message at all, but his thumb hits send before he can ponder it any further.

Ghost: Chicken seems a bit burnt.

Being the asshole that he is, Ghost can’t help but chuckle wryly at his own joke. He figures you’ll probably ignore his message. Maybe you’ll even take offence to it and block his number. So when his phone instantly buzzes with a response, his interest is fully captured.

Unknown: You think? I worried it might be a bit underdone.

The corner of his mouth twitches upward beneath his mask.

Ghost: I could be wrong. You’re the chef after all.

Unknown: Well, there’s plenty to go around if you fancy charcoals and mash.

He's fully smiling now, embarrassingly chuffed that you're playing along.

Ghost: You asking me on a date?

Unknown: Depends. Are you a serial killer?

Ghost: Depends on your definition of a serial killer.

It’s silent after that and Ghost can’t help the kernel of disappointment that takes root in his chest. Easygoing banter is far and few between for the lieutenant who has spent the last 48 hours trying to make sense of the mountain of paperwork that piled up on his desk during his last mission. He was enjoying this exchange with you far more than he cares to admit, and several minutes pass with no response before he glumly locks his phone and returns his attention to his desk.

A full day passes and Ghost accepts that he has scared you off.

Yet he can’t blame you. He knows full well that there are loads of creeps and nut jobs on the Internet who could take advantage of you. And even so, you’d be better off messaging any one of those weirdos rather than him. Because, after all, he’s ... who he is.

Three days later, Ghost is seven kilometers into his evening jog around the training field when his phone buzzes again unexpectedly. His eye twitches but he doesn’t check it right away, chiding himself for the persistent flare of hope in his gut that refuses to be extinguished. He’s been pathetically rushing to his phone with every notification he receives since your last text message came through and feeling disappointed every time it isn’t you.

It’s only when his phone buzzes again that he decides to bite the bullet and check who's texting him.

He’s fully expecting it to be another stupid meme from Soap in the 141 group chat. Which is why he skids to a stop, heart suddenly pounding in his chest, at the sight of a message from your phone number (which he has memorized at this point).

It’s his trigger finger that flies to open your message, eyes fixed intensely, almost nervously, on the pixelated screen of his outdated phone.

You’ve sent him a photo of a sausage roll, a proper sausage roll, that’s cooling on a wire rack in your kitchen. He's already salivating at the sight of the juicy blend of ground meat packed neatly and precisely into a flaky case of golden pastry, as well as the sliver of your bare thigh that's showing in the edge of the photo.

He assumes that you’ve accidentally messaged him again instead of your classmate until he sees the message beneath the image.

Unknown: Just wanted you to know that I’ve been testing some other recipes for our date. 

Unknown: Thoughts on my sausage rolls?

Ghost doesn’t even realize that he’s grinning like a madman until his face starts to twitch uncomfortably. He hasn’t smiled so hard in months, maybe even years, and the mechanics of beaming like a lovesick idiot have almost been forgotten by his stiff facial muscles.

He responds immediately, almost afraid that you might slip through his gloved fingers again if he is even a second too late.

Ghost: That’ll do.

(thoughts on part 2 from reader pov? i want them to talk on the phone and see ghost be all cute n awkward TT)

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

A perfect Match- Tom Riddle x Reader

Summary; Tom gets love potioned-but doesn't lock onto the girl who had slipped it into his drink and is instead obsessed with a girl who soon holds a deeper understanding of Tom than anyone else ever would.

Warnings; Love potion use, drugging, murder, murder compliance, hiding evidence, helping make a dark lord. Tom being cute.

mostly fluff, with a detailed part about Tom making his diary Horcrux. I saw someone request for a reader who actually helped Tom become the dark lord so i put it in here cuz ive had this idea for a whileeee. enjoyyy

=

It was supposed to be a normal morning. The usual, breakfast and morning mail-slowly waking up with the chatter of friends and fellow students filling the great hall with noise.

What she absolutely did not expect-was for Tom riddle to profess his love for her-in the most out-of-character way.

Her friends were giggling while (y/n) stared in shock-Tom holding her hands to his chest as he leaned in way too close. “and who might you be darling?” Tom cooed, a flirtatious grin on his face as he leaned in close and (y/n) used the fact that he was holding her hands to his chest to push him away.

“uh-(y/n)?” (y/n) said awkwardly, looking back at her friends for help but they were just snickering. She looked back at Tom-noting the way his eyes were a bit-pink. Love potion. of course. “uh-mind-backing uuuup!”

(y/n) squealed as he sat down beside her, pulling her into his lap and burying his face in her shoulder, arms wrapped tight around her waist-digging his hands into her sides as he inhaled deeply. “What a lovely name, (y/n).” he purred in her ear and she squirmed-putting her hands on his arms to push away but he didn’t budge.

“Help.” She mouths to her friends but they’re all snickering at the clearly love potioned Tom Riddle. She turns, seeing Tom’s friends walking up to her, Tom’s used cup in one’s hands.

“Love potion-someone must’ve slipped it in, saw you same time he took a sip.” One says-Rosier she thinks his last name was. The boy seem uncomfortable but also amused-watching Tom snuggle her into his lap-glaring at them, daring anyone to take his new love.

“yeah-got that-help.” (y/n) struggles out-squeaking as Tom kisses her neck and she accidentally elbows the side of his head-she only feels half bad, because he lets her go and she's on her feet in seconds.

Tom’s following her all too quickly and (y/n) is booking it down between the tables towards the main doors, praying she could make it to Slughorn before Tom could catch her-but he’s taller and quickly gaining on her.

Laughter from the great hall follow her ears but she has to ignore her embarrassment.

She skids to a stop right before a wall and twists around, jumping aside to avoid Tom-Tom slamming into the wall since he wasn’t expecting that. “sorry!” she yelps as blood drips from his nose-she feels terrible but she had to get to Slughorn before Tom did anything he’d regret.

She almost hesitates-wanting to see if she’d hurt his nose badly but then she gets a look at his eyes-pink-and she's running again, Tom stumbling up from the floor, dizzy but determined, following her.

She skips steps as she races down towards the dungeons towards Slughorn’s office and the potions classroom, she can hear Tom right behind her. She gets to the door-slamming it open without knocking-Tom slams into her and they both stumble into the room.

Slughorn, thankfully, was there-his eyes going wide with shock as his star pupil tumbled into the classroom-clinging to a girl who preferred to stay out of sight. “Professor-help!” she squealed, Tom’s arms tight around her and he inhaled her perfume, teeth grazing on her upper neck and she nearly elbows him again.

“Now now-what is going on?! Tom do get off her-what’s gotten into you my boy?” Slughorn rushes over, prying Tom off the poor girl as she scrambles to get out of his hold-Tom glaring wholeheartedly at Slughorn.

“Love potion-strong one-dunno who,” (y/n) breathes out from the other side of the classroom, Tom’s eyes locking onto her again and Slughorn sits him down before he can lunge at her.

“All right Tom, let me handle this yes?” Slughorn asks, hoping Tom will listen-and Tom huffs, his jaw clenching as he looks at (y/n) who tries to hide behind a work desk. Blood stains Tom’s nose and upper lip, and Slughorn quickly makes an antidote to the love potion. “Here you go my boy, drink up.” Tom glares at him, nearly baring his teeth.

“If you drink it, I'll kiss you,” (y/n) says to convince him and the love potioned Tom snatches the cup, drinking the antidote in one gulp. It takes a moment but when Tom lowers the cup, he looks confused.

“What…happened?” Tom asks, looking up at Slughorn as the professor chuckles warmly, taking the cup back.

“You were love potioned my boy, a pretty strong one too from how you were acting. Luckily it seemed you latched onto Ms. (l/n) instead of whoever was trying to have you, eh?” Slughorn joked and turned, Tom turned his gaze to (y/n), who was blushing heavily and standing up from her hiding spot.

“I…apologize for whatever I may have done, Ms. (l/n).” Tom said awkwardly, standing up from the desk he’d been sat at, wincing at the pain in his nose and the iron taste on his tongue, along with the slight pounding in the side of his head.

“It’s-it’s okay, uhm, I’m sorry for elbowing you and making you run into a wall.” (y/n) said, taking her wand out. “Episkey.” With a flick of her wand, Tom’s nose is repaired and he groans-the pounding in his head ebbing away. “Sorry,” (y/n) winces, putting her wand back in her robe sleeve holder.

“It’s fine.” Tom waved her off, wiping his nose and upper lip of blood-smearing it on his hand and he sniffs, cringing at the taste of blood. “Did i…do anything?” he asks, looking back at (y/n) and she shook her head, Tom’s shoulders dropping in relief.

“I never exactly gave you the chance to,” (y/n) mumbled and Tom sighed again, nodding.

“Thanks, I’d feel…bad if I had done something with neither of our consent.” He muttered and (y/n) nodded, the two standing across from each other, still awkward.

“Well-I’m-gonna go finish breakfast, bye.” (y/n) mumbled out and then she left the classroom, Tom’s eyes following her. How lucky he’d been to have her as his ‘target’, she hadn’t taken advantage of him-instead she’d gotten him an antidote as quickly as possible, though with minor injury.

This, strange-heartbreakingly rare-action has Tom intrigued with (y/n). Not many would pass up a chance with Tom, especially if he was love-potioned to do whatever they wanted, and obsession overpowered his logic.

And yet, she thought about him, and not herself.

How…kind.

He stalks after her, curiosity burning in his chest, along with anger at whoever had slipped the love potion into his drink.

-

Olive Hornby. A dreadful girl who bullied anyone ‘beneath’ her and was known to be a spoiled brat. Tom-he had to say-detested her, especially since she was the one to slip the potion into his drink, he found out only because she talked too loudly, complaining that ‘her plan’ hadn’t worked and that Tom had looked at (y/n) instead of her.

Olive Hornby proceeds to have horrid boils all over her body for the next week, painful and pus-filled boils that render her practically useless and pathetic-she clings to the hospital wing, begging Madam Tegner to give her potions and salves to get rid of the boils but they persist-a fitting punishment Tom thinks, for trying to control him-to take something that would never be hers.

And in return for her, kindness, (y/n) receives a bouquet of pretty Moon lilies paired with pink tulips. The gesture is clear-‘thank you’. She blinks, picking up the bouquet that had landed in front of her during breakfast, turning it over in her hands. “oh, that’s so beautiful, whose it from?” her friend asks and (y/n) turns it over, looking for a tag but sees no note, just initials.

T.M.R.

“It's from Tom, probably a thanks for getting him the antidote for the love potion.” (y/n) murmurs, her friend hums, admiring the bouquet.

(y/n) puts the flowers in a vase in on her bedside table, they were a very pretty bouquet, she had to easily admit. Tom knew his flowers-she looks up the meanings of both-Lilies Symbolize gratitude and appreciation, and pink tulips mean ‘thank you for your care’, a very sweet gesture of thanks from the presumed ‘untouchable’ Tom Riddle.

She doesn’t think on it further, assuming the ‘thank you’ bouquet was the last of her interactions with Tom.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t.

He asks her. On a fucking. Date.

Tom Riddle-asked HER on a DATE!!

“I’m sorry-what?” (y/n) sputters, flushed face half hidden by her Ravenclaw scarf, eyes wide as she looks at Tom-his hands tucked into his winter coat, eyes gleaming amused at her, his smirk half covered by his Slytherin scarf that’s tucked into his coat.

“Would you accompany me to the three broomsticks this weekend, as my date?” Tom asks again, amused by the bewildered look on (y/n)’s face. She blinks at him-shocked-her friends giggle behind her.

Girls on the other side of the courtyard-along with some guys-looked jealous, heartbroken ‘why her?’ they think, ‘why the Ravenclaw? Why not us?’

“uh-why?” (y/n) asks and Tom laughs, different from what she’s heard before from him-real.

“You intrigue me, (y/n).” he says her name like it’s honey on his tongue, a smirk on his terribly handsome face, her friends all giggle again as they shove her forward slightly-towards Tom. “You did something not many would, I wanted to see what you could be like without…me hanging off you.” he jokes, about a pathetic moment, a weak moment-he never jokes about such things.

“oh-uh,” (y/n) stutters, her friends shove her lightly and she jolts-looking up at Tom-snowflakes in her lashes-eyes reflecting the snow. “uh-sure yeah-okay.”

Tom grins, a charming thing-practiced, teeth barely shown. “Perfect, I’ll meet you at the great hall, nine sharp.” Tom said, almost cooed-and then he was gone, heading back into the castle, snow crunching under his boots as (y/n)’s friends surrounded her, giggling and teasing-Emma demanding she allow them to dress her up.

She lets them, they dress her in blue and green-a mix of the house colors. A green button-down winter coat, a blue plaid skirt, warm stockings-tall winter boots, warm winter gloves, and a cap that keeps her head warm and matches her coat.

She meets Tom at the great hall and he looks sharp in his winter coat, smirking at her as she descends the stairs that lead back up to the hall of changing staircases. “all dolled up for me?” he teases and (y/n) huffs, her cheeks already warm.

“My friends insisted.” She mumbles, he chuckles-a slight rasp to it that has her ears turning pink and he holds out his arm. She takes it and he leads her to the carriages that take the students to Hogsmeade and opens the door for her, stepping in after her.

The ride over to Hogsmeade is quiet and upon arrival Tom opens the door for her, holding out his hand for her after stepping out. She takes his hand, using it for balance as she steps out of the carriage and he continues to hold her hand as they walk down the path into Hogsmeade until they reach the three broomsticks-Tom opening the door for her and she quickly steps inside, shuddering as warmth rushes at her. She starts to take off her coat to hang it up but feels Tom take it for her, hanging it up along with her scarf and cap-his hung on the hook beside hers.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, and Tom smirked with a nod, his hand on the small of her back as he led her to an open table near the fireplace-he pulled out a chair for her-her back to the fireplace-and she sits, he even pushes her chair in and then he sits opposite of her.

She orders a butterbeer and Tom gets the same, along with a chowder bread bowl for them to share. (y/n) is quiet for a few minutes, tearing some of the bread to dip into the hot chowder and enjoying the flavor of the soup and the warm fluffy sour bread. She looks up at Tom, who was staring back at her, his chin resting on his fist.

She cleared her throat, sitting back in her chair. “so, uh,” she started, Tom tilting his head at her slightly, a smirk growing on his lips. “why-did you ask me out on a date?” she asked, a bit shyly-to be honest this was her first date as well, Tom being the first boy to ask her out…ever.

Tom hummed, looking away in thought and then back at her. “you…didn’t take advantage of me when I was love potioned, even though you could’ve easily done so,” Tom said and her brows furrowed.

“I didn’t because It would’ve been wrong to do so, and…you deserve to have consent in whatever…happens to you.” she said, unsure if it came out correctly-but it seems it did because Tom smiles.

“Exactly, I loathe to admit it, but most girls at the school would take whatever chance they have with me-even if I don’t want it. Believe me, its happened before, thankfully never successful.” Tom says quietly and (y/n)’s frown deepens. How awful. “but that’s exactly why I wanted to…allow a chance, I suppose-you didn’t take advantage, you respected me, and I respect that-and I thought that perhaps-even if nothing comes from it-a date would be…a good way to see if that potion was some odd sort of… meet-cute if you will.”

Tom said and (y/n) can’t help but laugh a bit, Tom smirking at her. “Meet-cute? Didn’t know you knew what those were.” (y/n) laughed gently, but she leans forward on the table, feeling more comfortable now. Tom laughs in return, shrugging slightly.

“I am an avid reader, and I do read more than just schoolbooks, otherwise I believe my brain would rot and I’d be purely academic.” Tom jokes and (y/n) laughs again, a sound that Tom finds he doesn’t mind at all.

“Are you a romance reader at all or is it tales of adventure and dragons?” (y/n) asks, half teasing and Tom chuckles, shaking his head a bit as he lifts his chin from his fist, allowing his hand to rest on the table.

“Don’t tell anyone, but I do like to read romance,” Tom told her like it was a secret, leaning in close to say it and (y/n) laughs.

“So, the big bad Slytherin prefect reads romance novels? How interesting,” (y/n) chuckles and Tom smirks at her, leaning back to take a drink of his butterbeer. The rest of their date goes pretty well, (y/n) had never imagined she could have so much to talk about with Tom Riddle.

She returns to her dorm holding a Starflower, twirling the stem in her fingers, smiling at it as she leans against the door to close it, she looks up to see her roommates/friends, all leaning towards her with interest and (y/n) gives a shy grin.

“We’re going on a study date Wednesday.” She says and her friends all cheer, including squealing and grabbing her to make her give more detail about the date. She enjoys telling them everything-something she never expected to do since Tom was the first to ask her out-and he’d asked her out on a second date.

‘would you mind studying with me Wednesday night?’

‘like a study date?’

‘exactly, so?’

‘I wouldn’t mind, not at all. What time?’

‘just after dinner, I’ll escort you from the great hall.’

(y/n) smiled as she remembered the conversation between her and Tom as he dropped her off at the Ravenclaw tower entrance, she wasn’t going to make him climb all the stairs up since the Slytherin common room was all the way at the bottom of the castle-and Ravenclaw had the highest tower.

He’d left her with a kiss to her hand and a charming smile, she’d smiled like an idiot, feeling the high of a good first date that had led to a second.

She’s giddy all the way to Wednesday night, her leg bouncing under the table as she struggles to eat her dinner at a normal pace-her bag tucked against her side, ready for her study date. She looks up across the hall-locking eyes with Tom, he smirks at her, taking a sip from his cup at the same moment.

Her cheeks flush and she looks back down at her plate-her friends teasing her-only one date and she was smitten? How adorable.

Tom thinks the same thing from across the hall, letting his gaze drop from her to finish his dinner, strangely excited for the study date. When he finishes he stands up from the Slytherin table, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, coolly making his way to the doors of the great hall.

(y/n) finishes her meal at the same and her friend does a quick look over before sending her off on her date. (y/n) has to hold back from literally skipping over to the doors, Tom waiting for her. He smirks at her, as if sensing her excitement and he holds his hand out-(y/n) can feel many eyes on them but right now? She doesn’t really care.

She takes his hand and he leads her to the library where they sit in a nice quiet corner. Like on the first date, he pulls out a chair for her and when she sits, he pushes it back into the table before circling around to sit across from her. They both pull out their notebooks and then Tom also pulls out a small stash of candy-probably from Honey dukes. Chocolates, licorice wands, and jellybeans.

“ooh,” (y/n) hums, taking a licorice wand and starting to snack at it while Tom stands, fetching a few books from the library to study with and soon books are spread across the table, Tom sharing his notes with her as they quietly enjoy their time together.

(y/n) absentmindedly took a ‘every flavor’ jellybean from the box, not bothering to look at it as she popped it into her mouth-fully regretting it. “Eugh-“ (y/n) choked and Tom’s head snapped up to look at her, his chair pushing out a bit at the look on her face, but she waved his concern off. “leech flavor.” She said and Tom chuckled, watching her spit out and vanish the gross jellybean.

“Not a fan of leeches?” Tom teased, grabbing the Jellybean box to shuffle through the candies inside, eventually finding one that he seemed suitable and handing it to her.

“Who is? Other than plague doctors and potion makers?” (y/n) huffed, taking the jellybean and carefully biting it, pleasantly surprised by the taste of cinnamon sugar. “how’d you know this one was good?” (y/n) asked Tom, chewing on the rest of the jellybean as Tom found a good one for himself.

“I have a good eye,” he said with a wink, popping a green jellybean into his mouth. He hummed, licking his teeth. “Candy apple.” (y/n) snorted, looking back down at her potions book, twirling her quill between her fingers. They talk quietly every now and then, mostly focused on studying-as was the point of a study date.

Tom’s shoe brushes against hers, her legs crossed under the table and extended, but he doesn’t move his leg back after he bumps her, instead leaning his foot against hers a bit, she smiles to herself and gets comfortable like that.

It’s pleasant and quiet between them, a conversation here and there, passing notes once in a while, reviewing the others work to give it fresh eyes. They spend so much time there that the warning bell for curfew goes off and they both jolt-Tom’s eyes going to his watch-huffing.

“Already almost ten,” Tom murmurs, (y/n) beginning to pack up notes and the books she brought while Tom stands to put the library books back where he got them. Soon the table was clean of papers and candy and Tom escorted (y/n) back to her common room. “I had a good time, something I must admit I rarely even think.” Tom says, a smirk growing on his face and (y/n) laughs, blushing as he kisses her hand again. “till tomorrow (y/n).” Tom says, almost a purring tone to his voice and (y/n) laughs again, waving goodbye for the night as he waits until she was inside her common room, twisting on his heel to head back to the Slytherin common room.

They have another study date on Friday, and then go to Hogsmeade again on Saturday, and then another study date on Tuesday.

(y/n) never thought she could feel so giddy over a person, Tom never thought he could enjoy being around another person so much-never thought he’d consider what someone would like. He would walk through the school-passing by students, spotting things that other girls would have and think ‘oh, (y/n) would like that, I should get it for her’ he’d pause-realize what he thought, process it, and then move on.

And then the next owl mail, (y/n) would have it, be it a bracelet, or a bouquet of flowers, or even a hair accessory; (y/n) cherished each one, having never been given courting gifts before. She’d smile at Tom each time she’d get something from him and he’d smirk back.

Soon enough, he was asking her to be his girl, with a bouquet of flowers and all, it was just before Valentine’s day, she was out in the courtyard with her friends, watching first years play in the snow. She heard Tom from behind and turned, gasping at the beautiful bouquet of flowers he had in hand, which he gave to her. “oh, Tom they’re so pretty!” she cooed, admiring the array of flowers. Roses, lilies, and daises-with baby’s breath dashed in to fill the bouquet in its empty spots.

Tom smirked at her reaction, stepping in close to her, body heat shared close. He took her hand-which she wore winter gloves to protect her fingers from the cold-and kissed her knuckles, staring at her with intense eyes. “be my girl?” he asked quietly, as if it was only for her ears. She couldn’t help her giddy grin and she nodded, breathing out her answer.

“Yes.” She said softly and Tom smirk widened, he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, and then her knuckles again-leaving her giddy and giggly as he left her with her friends who all went nuts as soon as he was back inside the castle.

(y/n) didn’t stop smiling for a whole week, every time she saw Tom she’d just smile even more and he was greatly amused by it all, genuinely amused, a flutter in his chest each time he saw her giddy grin, him the cause of it. He was fond of the fact that he was the cause of her happiness, he really liked it, and he wanted to keep making her smile. It was a new thing, to want to make someone happy other than himself-but he didn’t mind it, not at all.

So every weekend, he took (y/n) on a date in Hogsmeade, doing whatever felt right for that day, and every night they have a study date, sometimes in the Slytherin common room, Tom glaring at anyone that had a say against it. (y/n) just enjoys spending time with Tom, he was such a gentleman, and made her really happy-she always felt giddy with the mere thought of being around him.

Their first kiss is sweet, a classic, taking place just after a Hogsmeade date and Tom was once more dropping her off at her common room, kissing her hand as she stood before him on the steps up to the common room entrance. “until tomorrow my dear,” Tom said with a smirk, looking up at her through his lashes and she smiles, biting her lip.

He goes to step back but she lays her hand on his shoulder, keeping him close.

Her eyes dash down to his lips and then meet his eyes again, he can’t help the stutter in his heart, stepping closer to where she stood-she leans in close, he meets her halfway-pressing his lips against hers in a soft first kiss.

He can’t help but let his eyes flutter closed, her lips soft and sweet against his, she tasted like the butterbeer she drank at Hogsmeade, he tastes like black licorice. They both pull away after a few moments, (y/n) smiled shyly and Tom smirked back, leaving her with one more kiss to her-in his opinion-perfect lips, kissing her hand once more, and then leaving as she went into her common room. It closed behind her and she sunk against the wall with a sigh, her face warm and heart beating faster than a snitch.

Tom leaned against the cold wall next to him, brushing his fingers against his lips, a soft smile on his face-his eyes soft. He takes a breath and continues on to his common room, a pep in his step.

-

(y/n) made her way to the library after classes were done, ready to meet Tom-however she was distracted by several professors suddenly rushing by with a gurney with a student on it-a student that was strangely frozen-face paralyzed with fear. Her brows furrow, stuck to one spot for a moment before she moved on, a strange anxiety ebbing at the back of her chest as she heads to the library, quickly going up to her usual table with Tom-waiting for him to arrive.

She waited for a few minutes longer than she usually did for Tom to arrive, looking up as she heard his footsteps, he quickly walked up to their table and sat across from her-looking strangely giddy. “What happened?” (y/n) asked him and he only smiled her, intense and strange, taking her hand and kissing it.

“A step forward my dear,” he said vaguely, soon coming down from…high he was on and holding her hand on the table as he studied with her, though he still seemed distracted, a strange look in his eyes that left her feeling unnerved.

Later she found out the student she saw being escorted by gurney had been petrified, the head nurse was unsure how, the professors had no answers either, the student was in Gryffindor-a muggleborn. Two weeks later another student was petrified, also muggleborn-Ravenclaw. Again, no one knew why-there was no evidence of spell casting like ‘petrificus totalus’, or some sort of potion in their systems.

One is a coincidence two is a pattern. That was all that went through her head as the two petrified students were kept in the hospital wing, both having no evidence for why they were petrified-it was too similar.

When a third student was petrified-another muggleborn, Ravenclaw again-she knew something was going on at Hogwarts. And strangely, each time a student was petrified-Tom would be strangely giddy, wild look in his eyes that had her wondering if he had anything to do with the petrified students.

So, she followed him one night, he looked to be on a mission. He’d left her by the stairs of Ravenclaw tower with a kiss to her temple and hand before leaving, robes billowing behind him as he walked with a sense of immense purpose. She followed him, all the way to the second-floor girls lavatory, where she remembered Myrtle Warren going into way earlier after Olive Hornby(yes the very same that love potioned Tom) had bullied her relentlessly about her glasses.

Tom entered the lavatory, and (y/n) hung just outside, hearing Myrtle sobbing and Tom…Tom began to speak in a strange language-one (y/n) didn’t speak but knew. Parseltongue! She stepped forward, pushing open the door-wondering what was going on-going still in shock and a bit of awe as the sinks in the middle of the room opened, revealing a tunnel that went deep down under the school-Tom said something else in the hissing language and (y/n) heard something big climbing up the pipes-something slithering.

“Tom? What are you doing?” (y/n) asked and Tom turned quickly-eyes going wide-he lunged towards her, wrapping his arms around her head and bringing it to his chest so she couldn’t see, she just barely caught a glimpse of myrtle coming out of a bathroom stall and then something massive hissed-a body then dropped to the floor.

“Don’t look. don’t look.” Tom breathed into her ear, practically begging, his arms tight around her-refusing to let her move. He turned his head-speaking in parseltongue again-the massive serpent(it had to be) going back into the pipes, the sinks closing together again. Tom took a shaky breath, moving his hands to her shoulders and stepping back, looking down at her-eyes intense and concerned.

“What was that?” (y/n) asked him before he could say anything, reaching up to grab his arms as he stared at her. He seemed hesitant for a moment, licking his lips-she looked at Myrtle, she was dead on the floor-eyes wide and lifeless. “Did you order it to kill her?”

Tom swallowed harshly, staring hard at her before reaching up to cup her face. He didn’t seem to know what to say. “It’s a basilisk,” he murmured finally, looking back at the sinks, breathing hard once. “it comes from the chamber of secrets.”

The words feel like a bucket of cold electric water being dumped on her, her mouth dropping open, Tom continues to speak. “I’m a descendant of Slytherin, only I can control it. I found it earlier this year, I tested the beast, the petrified students-all my hand. Myrtle was different, she was a necessary death.” He rambled, (y/n) gently took his face to make him look at her, stepping closer to him, his hand tight against her jaw.

“We need to leave before someone finds us with her.” (y/n) said, shock in Tom’s eyes but he quickly followed her as she took his hand, and they left the lavatory. He took her to his room, since girls could go into boy’s dorms but never the reverse oddly enough; pulling her onto his bed and drawing the curtains, diary in hand and a muffling charm cast.

“From the beginning,” (y/n) offered when Tom looked lost on where to start explaining it all-he was in shock she was even responding the way she was. Tom took a breath, knees brushing against her thigh as he sat closer to her.

“I’ve been able to speak to snakes as long as I can remember, I grew up in an orphanage in London-so I had no clue of my origins, I only knew my name was my fathers and that my mother had died giving birth to me.” Tom began his story, (y/n) listening intently.

“I met Dumbledore the summer before my first year, his reaction when I told him I could speak to snakes only confirmed to me that it was a special skill-something not all wizards could do. I researched further in my first year, I thought my father was the wizard since I thought…I thought my mother was too weak since she had died-she couldn't be.” Tom took a deep breath, looking down when he realized (y/n) was holding his hand, he squeezed back gently.

“But I found my father was muggle-there’s no record of him here, two years ago, I finally was able to track down my mother's side. The Gaunt’s. The direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself. Through that I found out about the myth of the Chamber of secrets, I’ve been looking for it ever since-i found it, just a few months ago. I used it, the beast within-the king of serpents, the basilisk.”

“That’s why only muggleborns have been petrified.” (y/n) murmured and Tom nodded, not looking at her quite yet. “That’s what Salazar Slytherin's plan was for it, to purge the school of Muggleborns. I had wanted to prove my worth, to myself I suppose, to prove I was worthy of being his descendant.” Tom said, saying it all in nearly one breath, his shoulders dropping as he looked further away from her. “I suppose you think I’m mad, going to turn me in?”

She gently takes his face, turning it to look at her-to look at her smiling face. “Never.” She said softly, leaning in to kiss him. His eyes widened and then snapped shut, kissing her back fiercely, diary dropping onto the bed as he wrapped his arms around her, climbing on top of her as she fell back onto the bed with his weight pushing on her.

He pulled away, looking down at her as he breathed harshly. “not turning me in?” he asked roughly, her hand gently brushing against his cheek.

“if I must confess, it’s all fascinating, the chamber, the basilisk. You.” (y/n) murmured, her eyes closing and she laughed gently as Tom leaned down to pepper her face in kisses, grateful ones, oh what a perfect girl he’d found.

-

“What's your alibi?” (y/n) asked him, the two tangled together on the blankets of his bed, (y/n) flipping through his diary, reading everything he’d wrote. The basilisk, the chamber, her, his plans, his chosen name. Voldemort, in French it meant ‘flight from death’. He had confessed to her his fear of death; and his plan to create horcruxes-the first to be his diary.

Myrtle's death would be the catalyst to split his soul, of which he would have to make a special potion to actually take his soul out of his body and physically split it, and then put the split part into his diary. (y/n) of course offered to help, knowing such a procedure would be painful.

“Uh, I haven’t thought of one, it was sort’ve spur of the moment,” Tom admits into her neck, his arms wrapped around her, face buried in her shoulder-soaking up her warmth like a cat. (y/n) raised her brow, moving her head to look at him, he stubbornly hides his face in her neck still.

“You…murdered myrtle…on a whim?” (y/n) asked slowly and Tom huffed, looking up at her with a slight pout.

“When you say it like that.” He grumbled and (y/n) let out a soft snort, her shoulders shaking with a light laugh. “I sort’ve planned it, she was upset-I saw her go into the lavatory-where the chamber entrance is-I saw an opportunity, I took it.” (y/n) snorted again and Tom pinched her side, making her yelp/giggle.

“Don’t pinch me! Anyway! What is your alibi?...Do you even need one?” (y/n) asked again and Tom let out a small huff, resting her head on her shoulder again, looking at her profile as she kept reading his diary, smiling at the pages that were about her.

“I think Dumbledore would be my only suspector, as he is one of the few that know I can speak parseltongue, so he’d be the only one to worry about.” Tom murmured against her neck, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Did you have prefect route tonight?” (y/n) asks, closing the diary after arriving to the final written page, which was half about her and half about his plan for Myrtle. Tom shook his head against her neck. “mmm, then you could just say you were with me, hanging out in my common room, even though that’s technically against the rules, it's better than what you actually did.” (y/n) murmured, laying the diary on her stomach, her hand curling through Tom’s hair absentmindedly.

“You’re covering for me?” Tom murmured against her neck, arm wrapping around her waist, tugging at her side to pull her closer to him. (y/n) nodded, looking down at him, giving him a small smile.

“Well, yeah, you’d do the same for me? Wouldn’t you?” (y/n) asked softly and Tom surged up, pressing his lips to hers in a hard passionate kiss, pulling away for only a moment to say ‘yes’ before kissing her again, rolling on top of her, hooking his knee between her legs and grabbing her sides with his hands, pulling her body up towards his.

-

Myrtle’s body was found just before curfew; Olive Hornby had found her after being forced to go look for her since she was the reason Mrytle had run off to cry-only to be traumatized by finding Myrtle’s body and soon Aurors were at Hogwarts, rumors quickly spreading around the school about her death. Along with the possible closing of the school since there had been several petrification’s and one death. All unexplained.

Tom got unnerved at the thought of the school closing-taking (y/n) with him to head towards the 2nd floor, pausing at the 2nd flight of stairs in front of the great hall, watching as Aurors carried Myrtle's body down the stairs, her hand hanging pale and limp from the stretcher.

Tom watched, swallowing hard as Myrtle's body passed by him, he’d actually done it-he’d killed someone. “Riddle? Come.” Tom whirled around, Professor Dumbledore standing at the top of the stairs, waving Tom forward.

“Professor Dumbledore.” Tom said, tilting his chin up as he took (y/n)’s hand in his, bringing her up with him to stand before Dumbledore.

“It is not wise to be wandering this late hour Tom, especially when one has a young lady in their company.” Dumbledore said, glancing at (y/n) as she wrapped her arms around Tom’s arm, his hand tight in hers.

“Yes professor,” Tom said, clearing his throat, standing with his back expression controlled to show exactly what emotions he wanted to show, respect and concern. “I suppose i-I had to see for myself if the rumors were true.”

“I’m afraid they are Tom, they are true.” Dumbledore said, Tom raising his brows in worry, clutching (y/n)’s hand tight in his. “about the school as well? I don’t have a home to go to. They wouldn’t really close down Hogwarts, would they, professor?”

Dumbledore looked down at Tom, studying him intently, Tom’s hand squeezed (y/n)’s, she squeezed back. “I understand Tom, but I’m afraid; headmaster Dippet may have no choice.”

Tom’s voice became a bit more desperate-vulnerable, this being an uncontrolled reaction-he couldn't have the school close-he couldn't bear going back to the orphanage so soon. “Sir, if it all stopped; if the person responsible was caught…” (y/n) squeezed Tom’s hand to calm him, knowing he was showing too much, since Dumbledore gave Tom an odd look-one of knowing but having no proof.

“Is there something you wish to tell me, Tom?” Dumbledore asked calmly, studying Tom intently. Tom blinked himself out of his stupor, raining his emotions back in.

“No sir, nothing.” Tom said, swallowing harshly as Dumbledore studied him for a moment longer, and then (y/n), but she only stared back, unperturbed.

“Very well then, off you both go. Make sure Ms. (y/n) returns to her house safe and sound Tom.” Tom nodded, of course he would-he bid the professor goodnight, taking (y/n) up the stairs and towards the changing staircases, leaving her at the bottom.

“I have to go, go to your room, I’ll see you in the morning.” Tom murmured, kissing her forehead and he strode off into the dark corridors, (y/n) staying at the bottom of the moving staircases for a moment before beginning her climb up to Ravenclaw tower.

-

Tom quickly framed Rubeus Hagrid for the attacks, since the boy had always had an affinity for monstrous creatures and had a habit of sneaking them into the school-the ‘monster’ blamed for the attacks being an Acromantula, a deadly giant spider.

Coincidently, their venom could paralyze people, and if there was enough in the system, it could kill. Tom had the perfect scapegoat-and it worked like a charm. He turned Hagrid in, got a reward for saving Hogwarts, and was praised to high heaven by all the professors for his bravado.

Only (y/n) and Tom knew the truth-with Dumbledore suspecting Tom but having no proof to accuse him.

Soon it was the last week of school-and during this time (y/n) helped Tom make the potion that would allow him to make his first horcrux. (y/n) stood in front of the sinks that were the entrance to the chamber, Tom standing next to her-having just opened it. The sinks detached from their spots, revealing the tunnel and Tom took her into his arms, holding her as they slid down the tunnel tot eh depths below the castle.

He held her hand the whole way though the pipes-animal bones covering everything. Soon it turned to a cavern-getting closer to the true entrance to the chamber. They stopped before a set of double doors that were guarded by two metal snakes with emeralds for eyes. “Aaaheeshaasha.” Tom spoke in his low voice, his voice quivering like a serpent’s hiss. The snakes eyes glowed, and moved, becoming hinges to the doors and they swung open-revealing the legendary chamber of secrets.

“Oh wow,” (y/n) breathed, her hands on Tom’s shoulders as he lowered her into the chamber-the steps long since eroded from time so it was a straight drop from the doors to the main corridor. It was one massive room-with pillars lining the path that had snakes curling up them, and a massive statue of Salazar himself at the back, a stone basilisk curling up  behind him-its stone eyes locked onto the doors. “its…strangely beautiful.”

Tom looked at her with pride, squeezing her hand as they walked deeper into the chamber. There was a smaller chamber to the right of the statue-an old library, ransacked with only a few books left inside. Tom said a previous member of the Gaunt’s must’ve stolen the books, feeling Hogwarts unworthy of Salazar's knowledge.

(y/n) put down her bag, reaching into it-having used an undetectable extension charm, and pulling out all the potion ingredients, including the cauldron.  She and Tom got to work making the potion that would allow him to split his soul and put it in his diary, the diary resting in his pocket.

After an hour of potion making-the pitch black potion was ready. It looked like a black hole, there wasn’t even any shine to it. “It looks ready,” (y/n) murmured, sitting next to Tom. She turned off the burner, going to cast a cooling charm on the potion but Tom rolled his sleeves up and stuck his hands straight into the potion-(y/n) gasping and grabbing his shoulder as he hissed, face clenching in pain.

He pulled his hands out-they looked pure black, like a void. “Tom,” she said softly, holding his shoulder as he moved his hands to his chest, he paused as his fingers passed through his skin-blood beginning to soak his shirt. She grabbed him tightly, burying her face against his back as he took several breaths-pushing his hands deeper, a rasp of pain escaping him.

She couldn’t bear to watch, hearing his painful gasps for breath, blood soaking his shirt-hot and wet. A soft glow caught her attention, and she pulled her head up, seeing his soul in his hands-blood and the void-like potion dripping down his hands. He took a long breath, and clenched his hands-his soul snapping in half and he hunched forward, dry heaving. “Tom,” she said, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her head to his. He shook his head, hands shaking as he put one half of his soul back inside him-the other half still in his hand.

She grabbed his diary from his robe pocket that had been discarded halfway through making the potion, holding it out for him. He gave her a small weak nod, looking exhausted and sick-he put his split soul up to his diary and it absorbed into the diary.

The diary felt alive in her hands now, the cold leather warming quickly in her palms and she quickly set it down on her lap-snatching up her wand and cleaning Tom’s arms and hands of the potion and his blood. He heaved again-she dumped the potion out from the cauldron and put it in front of him-he threw up into the cauldron, blood mixing with his bile.

“I feel like I got hit by a troll.” Tom said, drool dripping from his chin-he looked sick, face pale and flushed with fever.

“You look it,” (y/n) said softly, kissing his temple and he heavily leaned into her, his whole body shivering as she wrapped her arms around him-ignoring the wetness of his blood on his shirt. She held him for what felt like hours, just holding him close as he shivered, dry heaving and aching all over.

Eventually, she got him on his feet, vanishing the evidence of the potion and Horcrux creation with a wave of her wand. He leaned heavily on her as they left the chamber of secrets, he held his diary close to him-it was the only way he felt less sick.

Soon she was helping him out of the tunnel into the girls lavatory-no one went in here now, too scared of what happened to Myrtle.  “Are you okay?” (y/n) asked Tom and he got to his feet, shaking still-pale and sick. He threw up into a sink, panting wetly as (y/n) rubbed his back, leaning carefully into him as he shook, arms weak and trembling as he hovered over the sink.

They spent time in the bathroom before finally moving on, (y/n) helping Tom to his room, thankfully going downstairs was way easier than going upstairs. “Jurisdiction,” (y/n) said upon arriving at the Slytherin common room door and it opened for her, Tom huffing in amusement, she’d remembered the password. She helped him into the common room and to his dorm, carefully laying him down on his bed-taking off his shirt to clean it and then going to get a few washcloths, soaking them in cold water to put them against his flushed face and neck.

“Cold-“ he groaned, his eyes unfocused, grasping her hand as she patted the cloth against his face.

“I know, but you have a fever,” she said softly and Tom groaned again, closing his eyes and letting her help him as she cooled down his skin with the cold washcloth, soon getting him tucked into bed after cleaning him up-of course after helping him change out of his bloody/potion soaked clothes.

She laid next to him-he quickly reached out to her to tug her into him, soaking up her body heat as she gently rested his diary-his horcrux-in the bedside table drawer, making sure it was locked before she drew the curtains, curling up beside Tom-who thankfully fell asleep against her, shivering the whole time.

-

It took Tom a few days to recover from making his horcrux, thankfully before the end of the school year, so he didn’t need help packing as everyone prepared to go ‘home’ for the summer. “you live at an orphanage right?” (y/n) asked him softly, sitting on his bed as he packed up his uniforms. He nodded, not looking like he wanted to talk about it. “which one?” Tom glanced up at her, swallowing harshly, looking at his diary in her lap, she was thumbing the spine softly-treating it like a true extension of him.

He had decided to let her keep it, to trust her to keep it safe. “Wools orphanage” Tom eventually answered, turning back to fold his socks into his trunk. “in London.”

“Oh, that’s closer to me than I thought,” (y/n) said brightly, Tom looking up at her with his brow raised, having a feeling he knew what she was getting at.

“is that an invitation?” he drawled, hiding his smile as she nodded, scooting to get closer to him.

“It very much is. My parents want to meet you anyway, and with your charm, I'm sure you could get a night or two at my house.” (y/n) said, slightly teasing him. Tom huffed with amusement, leaning over to kiss her softly. She happily leaned into it, the diary tucked against her stomach.

“I think I’ll take you up on that love,” he murmured, (y/n)’s smile growing wider, leaning back to let him finish packing-though now he wasn’t as solemn about it.

-end-

[neunnnnnnn]

Things I have experienced after shifting and rating them

Reminder we are different my experience might not be yours!!

1. Disorientation 0/10

-Time doesn't feel real at all after coming back, I would always feel like I'm high of something and the world spins for a few seconds. Afterwards during the day I feel like I'm watching the world from inside my body instead of outside my body. ( Idk if it makes sense)

2. Memories 1/10

-My memory has slowly become worse than I thought. My memories from before I first shifted are blurry and I have found myself mixing alot of memories and confusing events.

4. Dreams 10/10

-It's weird how lucid my dreams are becoming more to the point where I have actually confused reality and a lucid dream where I thought I was lucid but I was actually here 😭 I have also had a lot of vivid dreams.

5. Extraterrestrial 11/10

-Ever since I first shifted I have encountered one physically like in this reality and alot while astral projecting. It was frightening at first but they are okay, they don't bother you unless you want to talk to them. Speaking to them has literally opened my thoughts in ways I didn't realize it would.

6. Relationships

-My relationships have been more better if I might say, both in friendships, romantic wise and with my parents . This is something that I believe because I have gotten better at communicating my feelings and understanding myself better. I am able to actually not judge someone ( because everything is internal) and can easily empathize with someone more easily.

7. Not caring 11/10

-When I tell you my fucks to give have gone out the fucking window. Nothing anyone tells me affects me that much anymore 😭 like don't you know I can just dip out anytime and never return?!?! But yeah I have been caring less and less and it is freeing, letting go of worldly attachments does wonders for your mental health.

8. Sleep 9/10

Been sleeping like a freaking baby!!

9. Music 7/10

This is mostly because I was told that airpods fry your brain and I have been only listening to music through speakers or just the normal earphones. I have also been listening to music less and less. My headaches have been reducing

Again these are MY experiences they might not be the same as yours.

[suguslve]

thinking about loser (perv) idia .ᐟ

♰ pairings. idia shroud x shy fem! reader

♰ warnings. suggestive content. loser! idia at first but then he becomes a pervert (yum). noncon (?). pantie sniffing and stealing. stalking. uhhh idk what else. mdni

♰ word count. 1.5k

♰ a/n. i was on idia brainrot these past few weeks and decided to whip a lil something up ;) enjoy reading and lmk your thoughts!

— loser! idia who kept his head down, ignoring everyone, why does crowley need ALL housewardens to attend to a stupid meeting in the first place? he was busy uttering curses in his mind when your sweet voice broke the ruckus. his head snapped up just slightly, just enough to steal a glance at you. w-wait were you stuttering?! and you weren’t just stuttering—you were anxiously fidgeting with your hands too!! are you nervous because of the meeting? because of someone? or—wait—what if you’re nervous because you hate crowds too?! oh god, did he just find a fellow social avoidance expert??

— loser! idia who actually wanted to approach and talk to you, but obviously he’s a coward. yeah, nope, definitely NOT happening. he’d literally rather fight a final boss solo with no revives than approach you right now. and so, as the meeting adjourns, he quickly and quietly leaves the room (with his heart racing wildly and his face burning). 

— loser! idia who desperately tried to avoid you at every turn—but it was like the universe had other plans. no matter where he tried to hide, there you were. his carefully scouted, ultra-secret, 1000% normie-free safe zones? infiltrated. by you. of all people. what kind of cruel RNG was this?! ugh, this was turning into a way bigger side quest than he signed up for. his usual gaming hideout behind the school? you were there, sitting on the steps, quietly reading. the abandoned hallway near the library? you showed up, looking just as startled to see him as he was to see you. EVEN THE ROOFTOP—his ultimate last resort—had somehow become your preferred quiet spot?! and the worst part is sometimes, he’d see you there… and instead of running, he’d hesitate. just for a second. because—ugh, he’d never say it out loud—but you weren’t loud like the other normies. you weren’t disruptive. you were just… there. quiet. fidgeting. existing in your own little world.

— loser! idia who finally gained the courage to approach you. oh but trust him, it wasn’t like he wanted to—he just… happened to be in the same spot as you (again), and instead of immediately running in the opposite direction like usual, he somehow convinced himself to stay. which, might have been a huge mistake because the second your eyes flickered up to meet his, his brain immediately started screaming. abort, abort, abort— but you’d already seen him. his escape route had been cut off. and he just stood there, shifting on his feet, pulling at the strings of his hoodie like it was a lifeline. his mouth opened. closed. opened again. say something, you coward! 

— loser! idia who mumbled the weakest, most pathetic greeting ever known. “u-uh…yo?” his voice cracked, and he wanted the ground to swallow him up whole there on the spot. that was so cringe!! seriously?! ‘yo’?! what am i a generic background delinquent?! while he was having a crisis, you chuckled softly before greeting him in return. idia.exe has stopped working.

— loser! idia who didn’t know how this “friendship” between you even started. at first he avoided you like the plague and the next thing he knew, you two were hanging out like it was normal. at first, he figured you were just another shy person suffering through NRC, but the more you talked, the more he realized—wait, you actually get him?! you didn’t just tolerate his rants about games, anime, and how normies were a blight upon existence—you joined in. he slowly let his guard down around you. he didn’t even mean to, but you were just… easy to talk to. there were no expectations, no forced small talk, no annoying social pressure. if you two sat in silence, it wasn’t awkward. if you talked, it wasn’t exhausting. before he knew it, he was complaining about gacha rates and actually making jokes without wanting to crawl into a hole and die afterward.

— loser! idia who slowly fell for you and your little quirks. but hey! it’s not like you can blame him. you were stupidly cute in ways that made his heart do dumb things. you matched his energy—avoiding crowds, hiding from normies, nerding out over random things. you got excited about the smallest details, and somehow, somehow, you even made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the biggest loser in existence.

— loser! idia who slowly became possessive and obsessive over you. it started as just worry, okay?! totally normal levels of concern. but then his mind started spiraling—what if something bad happened to you and he wasn’t around?! NRC was a literal villain academy, full of shady, power-hungry weirdos, you can’t trust any of the students here—well, aside from him and ortho but that’s besides the point! you—with your big doe eyes and painfully sweet personality—were basically walking around with a giant “EASY TARGET” sign on your back. you can be easily taken advantage of!

— loser! idia who swore to be your protector. it wasn’t even a choice at this point—it was a necessity. so what if he wasn’t exactly the heroic, sword-wielding, normie-approved protector type? he had brains. he had strategy. and most importantly—he had a highly advanced AI-powered little brother who could do background checks on anyone who so much as looked at you funny. he might be a loser, but if he notices someone teasing or making you uncomfortable, he’ll reluctantly step in. “H-hey, back off, normie… uh, I mean, don’t be rude, or whatever…” then he drags you away like a panicked introvert escaping a social interaction.

— loser perv! idia who set up cameras all over ramshackle dorm to “keep an eye out on you.” it wasn’t stalking! no no, this was just preventative security measures! NRC was dangerous, okay?! a totally defenseless, magicless, too-trusting person like you? living alone in a rundown, ghost-infested dorm? that was basically asking for trouble. anyone with half a brain would’ve done the same! (right?)

— loser perv! idia who watches you 24/7 watching everything. the way you got ready for bed. the way you sighed and stretched when you thought no one was looking. the way your shirt slipped off your shoulder sometimes. and oh god, when you absentmindedly played with the hem of your skirt or chewed on the end of your pen? yeah. he was so beyond saving. okay so maybe he checked the cameras a little too often. maybe he kept the feed open on one of his monitors at all times. maybe he watched you even when there was no actual danger. but it’s not like he was doing anything weird! just… making sure you weren’t lonely!

— loser perv! idia who became utterly obsessed with you. he’d watch you from afar, his eyes tracing every movement, every smile. his room was filled with pictures of you, some taken without your knowledge. his obsession grew darker, more twisted. his obsession became all-consuming. he hacked into your social media accounts, reading your private messages and learning more about you than you ever intended to share. he’d watch you through hidden cameras he installed in your room, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction as he invaded your privacy.

— loser perv! idia who snuck into your dorm one night as you were asleep. he watched you for hours, his heart racing with excitement and fear. oh how he wanted to touch you, to feel your skin against his. but he knew he couldn’t risk waking you up. instead, he roamed your room. touching your things, smelling the perfume you use, looking at the plushies you kept, but it wasn’t enough, so he made his way to your bathroom and went through all your dirty clothing. sniffing the clothes you wore, rummaging for ages until he found it. your soiled panties. he took them all, moaning as he smelt your scent on them. god he can feel himself growing hard right now. he took your underwear and kept them all on the pocket of his hoodie. but before he left he made sure to give you one look, and well maybe a peck on your cheek, but it’s not like you’d find out, right?

— loser perv! idia who rushed to his dorm room and locked it to make sure no one would disturb him. 

— loser perv! idia who watched various amounts of hentai that night, imagining it was you writhing and moaning under him. he pulled off his sweats and boxers and let his cock free. he hissed as the cold air hit his cock—then, he pulled your panties from where he had kept them. one hand sniffing it, and the other jerking himself off. he was so close, he could feel it, and so he took your underwear and jerked himself with it. oh fuck, he couldn’t take it anymore.

— loser perv! idia who couldn’t help himself from moaning your name over, and over until he came hard. his mind filled with dirty thoughts of defiling your innocence. god, he can’t wait to ruin you. he jerked himself faster, and faster until he came. his fluids soiling your panties. his breathing was labored, cheeks flushed. ah shit, this wasn’t gonna cut it, he needed more.

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