glory in the flower

“I just don’t believe you met your parents for lunch, (y/n).” 

You sigh through your nostrils, setting the cup you were previously washing back into the sink as calmly as one can after explaining themselves four times. 

“We went to the little place down the street.” 

“What time?” The way he asks is like he’s interrogating you for committing one of the most heinous crimes imaginable, and yet you’re telling the truth. 

“Around 12, I think. I’ve repeated myself like three times, Hitoshi, are we-” 

“I’m just trying to make it add up, (y/n),” he says dismissively, “you left at 12 but the door alarm says you left at 12:34?” 

You can’t hide your agitation when you say, “If you knew what time I left then why are you asking me? I told you around 12, I wasn’t looking at the clock because I was running late and I’m not in the mood to be questioned down when I didn’t even do anything wrong-” 

“There’s no need to get angry,” Shinsou waves a hand in front of you as if he wasn’t the reason your aggravation was palpable, “I’m just fact checking like Aizawa-Sensei suggested.” 

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, “Just say you want to use your quirk on me and get it over with, I’m tired and I have work in the morning and I still have to showe-” 

Your body goes rigid, frozen in place for a moment. 

    ══

“Do you need me to pick up anything on my way home?” 

Bakugou stands in front of you, dressed in his hero costume while you lay splayed on the couch with a blanket covering you. 

“Mmm… no, I don’t think so. I can call you if I think of something.” 

Despite the scowl he wears, he kisses your forehead. Truly, Bakugou would rather stay home with you, but he knows he has responsibilities as a hero. 

“I’ll be back at the usual time then.” He says against your hair, before standing back up and heading towards the door, “Don’t let anyone in.” 

“Do I ever?” You scrunch your nose at the thought. He walks out the door without replying.  

═══ ᴅᴀʙɪ

▹    god would he take this and run

▹    u don’t like going outside? don’t worry baby you won’t have to ever again <3 

▹    just like,,,, don’t expect the most pristine of living spaces 

▹    life is a struggle when you don’t have money ok

▹    regardless, u get the basics 

▹    food, shelter, attention 

▹    well, attention when he’s home 

▹    dabi is probs one of the worst yanderes to have kidnap u bc he just,,,,,,, leaves,,,, for days on end without telling where or what or why

▹    so assuming you don’t starve,,,, he’s alright!

    ══

The room you were in was dark and damp, a moldy smell wafting from all corners, and yet Dabi decided this would be the perfect place to leave you. “Somewhere no one would look,”  he’d said, grin on his face “Wouldn’t want anyone to find my doll.” 

You were shaking from how cold it was, the outside temperatures seeping into the building and into your bones. Complaining to Dabi would do nothing, instead he’d whip up a makeshift fireplace, using his own flames as the starter and pull your body as close to his as he could until you stopped shaking. 

That’s assuming he makes it back before you freeze to death. He’d left two days ago, and told you to stay. You’d be insulted, if not for the fact that you didn’t want to leave. 

The door opens, jumping at the noise and staring into the doorway. Backlit, with a halo of light from a lamp outside surrounding his form. 

“Did you miss me, doll?”

═══ ᴋɪʀɪsʜɪᴍᴀ ᴇɪᴊɪʀᴏᴜ

▹    would notice the little signs of you hating being around crowds at first 

▹    the way you lean more towards him when they thicken, and how you practically glue yourself to his side to avoid touching other people 

▹    once he realizes this, he’d start to accommodate to it. taking you to lesser-known places, parks, wooded areas for hikes, trying to do his best to be a good boyfriend 

▹    but….. he’s a hero. someone’s bound to realize who he is 

▹    and try as he might to avoid it, crowds grow fast 

▹    and he hates seeing your discomfort 

▹    he won’t outright say he’s kidnapping you though. It's just very much implied. 

    ══

“What’s all this?” You ask, pulling at the door handle and tilting your head when it doesn’t budge. 

Kirishima looks sheepishly to the side, scratching the back of his neck, “You just… looked so uncomfortable every time we went out. Even just grocery shopping, so I thought maybe… this would make it better. I go out and do everything and you just stay home.” 

His explanation makes sense enough, but you wonder what the point of all the locks are.

They got the last touch. They were the victors of yet another game, and they would be the ones going to the finals. 

They are the stars of the world. 

So why does he feel a pang in his chest when you come down from the bleachers and go straight for Bokuto? 

All excitement burns down to something less, the remains of a match brought to nothing more than charcoal and smoke while he watches his best friend swing you around in a hug. 

“Did you see us?” he asks excitedly after setting you down, grin ever present on his features. You can only nod, just as happy as the man in front of you. You pull him into another, less frantic, hug, then turn when Bokuto addresses Akaashi as he approaches. 

“We did it, Akaashi!” 

“We did.” 

As upset as Akaashi wants to be, Bokuto’s exhilaration is infectious. A smile makes its way on Akaashi’s face without him realizing, only to grow when you open your arms to him and give an excited squeal. 

Whatever jealousy his mind made stems down to nothing more than ash, blown away the moment your arms wrap around his neck. 

And suddenly, everything is okay again. 

═══ ᴋᴀɢᴇʏᴀᴍᴀ ᴛᴏʙɪᴏ 

▹    kags isn’t the type to get into a relationship ok

▹    however, i do see him as the type to become fwb with someone

▹    it’s not something that happens instantly ofc. it takes a lot of time and talking about boundaries and rules, but you get there eventually

▹    and you’d absolutely adore kags 

▹    he knows it, too 

▹    kageyama lives off of whatever attention you present him with

▹    but he sees no point in reciprocating anything 

▹    give him an inch and he takes a mile 

▹    he won’t acknowledge if you do anything that’s more romantic than fwb 

▹    bring him a bento box for lunch “just ‘cause you felt like it?”? don’t make a habit of it, or he’ll start to expect them, without giving back anything in return 

    ══

The blank look on his face should’ve told it all, honestly. 

But, you’re no quitter! And in your defense, he was the one who told you yesterday how good your lunch looked. 

Kageyama only stared as you presented him with a neatly wrapped bento box, processing what this could imply further down the line. Regardless, he takes the food and unwraps the cloth. It’s the exact thing you brought the day before, and despite your friends’ protests of ‘not getting too attached to someone like him’, you’ve taken it upon yourself to do something nice for him. 

It is one lunch, after all. Maybe a second if he doesn’t cancel your ‘study session’ planned later on in the week. 

“Thank you for yesterday,” you say nonchalantly, as if he didn’t blow out your back in the bathroom stalls with the only reasoning being ‘because Hinata pissed him off’ and he needed to do something with his pent up aggression, “I had a good time.” 

He doesn’t reply, but you don’t expect him to; instead relishing in the fact that the tips of his ears burn. That doesn’t stop a smirk from forming on his face, though.

═══ ᴋᴇɴᴍᴀ ᴋᴏᴢᴜᴍᴇ 

▹    kenma is one of the most analytical out of the five

▹    he can easily pick up on the things you do

▹    your pet peeves, your tics, your habits, all of it

▹    and he can just as easily use them against you 

▹    is the best at making it seem unintentional

▹    what do you mean you don’t want to watch his game? you promised you would, even though he sort of pressured you to in the middle of a gaming sesh but it’s not fair to just,,, tell him you have other plans!

▹    it’s kinda rude to just get his hopes up and then let him down, isn’t it? 

▹    probably the most self-aware out of everyone, but he really doesn’t care. people usually look over him because of how unassuming he is, so why would him taking interest in you be noticed either? 

    ══

Your agitation was tangible. He could make out your form under a blanket from the video call you were on, pitiful and tired, but that doesn’t stop the slight frown from crossing his features. 

“You promised you’d come watch me and Kuroo play tomorrow, though.” A pinky promise, at that, but he wouldn’t bring up the facts. 

You pout, shoulders dropping with a sniffle, “That was before my parents told me about their anniversary dinner, Kenma.” 

“I really wanted you to meet my friend from Karasuno. I think you’d really like him.” He toys with the string of his hoodie, looking away from the screen for just a moment. He hears you huff out a sigh, screen going black for a moment. 

Video Paused. 

“I’ll talk to them about it, see if I can make it up to them somehow.” Another sigh, followed by some tapping on the screen that Kenma can only assume is you typing. 

“If you can’t, it’s okay. No need to worry about it.” Kenma says dismissively, despite knowing you and your tells; the tone of your voice breaking way into confirmation that you’ve given in to his less-than-pushy demand. 

“Too late,” your screen comes back on, some shuffling and replacing your phone propped against a pillow, “already texted them. What kind of snacks should I bring?” 

“Whatever can get you through the match.” He smiles, a genuine, sweet smile only reserved for those he cares about. 

═══ ᴏɪᴋᴀᴡᴀ ᴛᴏᴏʀᴜ

▹    oikawa is manipulative for starters 

▹    to his peers, his friends, his teachers, his fangirls, to everyone

▹    he’s good at adapting to less-than favorable situations and will do whatever it takes to get his way

▹    the definition of a brat

▹    he’s not above using people for how own advantage, either 

▹    you don’t want to go out with him? that’s perfectly fine! just don’t come crying to him when you get hundreds of hate mail from his fangirls that he oh so dramatically confided in

▹    is not afraid to make you out to be the bad guy at all 

▹    honestly doesn’t care if you really like him or not. even if you say you don’t, he just believes you’re lying. he’s the great king, after all. who wouldn’t like him

    ══

This was the fifth letter you’d found in your locker since school started. No, scratch that- the first two were slipped into your backpack, along with some of your items being stolen by whatever crazed fangirl deemed it necessary to make your day worse than what it already was. 

It doesn’t take an idiot to know what you did wrong to be in this situation. You’d denied Oikawa Tooru, your school's golden boy, telling him you’d rather study than watch him practice volleyball and get dinner after. If you’d known this would be the backlash, you would’ve thought twice about turning him down. 

Someone clicks their tongue behind you, causing you to jump and whirl around. The man at fault stands looking over your shoulder, hands on his hips with a pout on his face. 

“That doesn’t look like a confession letter- unless the broken heart means you’ve already denied them before they had a chance?” 

The suggestion makes you more than agitated- he knows what the letter is. Hell, he probably gave them pointers on what to write! You slam your locker closed with one hand and crumble the letter with the other.

“Is there something I can help you with, Oikawa?”

His name tastes like venom on your tongue, yet it doesn’t make him falter, pout turning to a grin, “There is actually. I’m sure you’ve heard we’re up against The Iron Wall- and I was just double checking that my potential number one supporter would be there?” 

You open your mouth to snap out a reply, but you can feel the glares from your peers; girls and boys alike whispering to each other- stirring a pot they know nothing about. 

So, you bite your tongue. Grit your teeth and deal. It’s just one game, after all- what’s the harm in missing a few hours of a study session? 

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” 

“Great!” His smile grows tenfold, reaching up and pinching your cheek endearingly, “I’ll be sure to let everyone know just how sweet you really are.” 

You don’t miss the mischievous glint in his eyes; the way he moves away from you so confidently telling you more than enough. He knows the game and he’s playing it well. 

═══ sᴜɢᴀᴡᴀʀᴀ ᴋᴏᴜsʜɪ

▹    the sweetest boy on god

▹    just cannot place his feelings! 

▹    does he like you? like like you? want to be friends? more than friends? take you away from anything and everything that could ever hurt you? 

▹    falls back more into the last category, and can only assume it means he likes you

▹    he’s probably the least dangerous to have after you 

▹    suga doesn’t want to do anything that would ruin your relationship, or the potential for any future relationships

▹    this makes him the best friend you could ever ask for, honestly 

▹    will walk you home if you ask (as long as you can stand to wait until after practice) 

▹    takes you out for lunch or dinner or study sessions at the local cafe on the weekend and refuses to let you pay for anything

▹    snacks, drinks, and meals are all on him and he doesn’t complain at all

▹    generally doesn’t ask for anything but your friendship in return

▹    but if you give him a hug or hold onto his arm and let him imagine you’re more than something you aren’t then that’s the best payment

    ══

“You’ve gotta let me pay for something, Suga,” you whine, trying to push some cash into the center of the table only for the man to push it back towards you and pass his card directly to the waiter instead. 

“Nope, I invited you out so therefore I pay.” 

“By that logic, if I invite you out next weekend then I’ll pay?” You grumble, stuffing the money back into your wallet. “Sounds fair to me.” 

“No,” he disagrees again, looking up when the waiter brings back his card and a paper to sign, “I’ll just say no to hanging out- therefore you have no reason to pay.” 

“That’s just mean, Suga.” You whine again, “What if I say no to your hangout session, then?” 

“You can’t say no to me.” He smiles an award winning smile, thanking the waiter, then standing and waiting for you to pull on your jacket before you step outside. “It’s not allowed.” 

“‘Not allowed’?” You repeat with a scoff, scrunching your nose at how chilly the temperature outside is compared to the warmth inside the building, “So you can say no to me, but I can’t you? Isn’t that a double-standard and make you a hypocrite?” 

“Maybe,” he shrugs, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, “but it doesn’t change the fact that I simply will not be letting you pay for anything.” 

You puff out your cheeks in protest, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared and is replaced with a grin. Patting Sugawara on the arm a couple of times before your arm wraps itself around his own while you pull him closer to your favorite spot. The dog park. 

Sugawara always plans for this; taking you past the park so you can see all the pets running around. Your reaction is always the same- hitting him a few times to get his attention, then, wrapping your arm around his so he doesn’t stray far, and won’t leave his until he drops you off at him. It’s routine, at this point. Your warmth seeps through his jacket, and it’s all the payment he needs.

There’s a pounding behind your eyes when you wake up.

You wonder, for a moment, just how much you drank last night while sitting up. Rubbing at your temples does little to ease the growing pressure, briefly opening them to look around a room that you realize quickly isn’t at all familiar. The blanket currently pooled at your waist is not something you’d ever purchase; a baby blue that looked far too childlike to really be used by an adult such as yourself. The rest of the room matches it fairly well, clouds painted on the walls with white furniture that looks too clean, too new, to be owned by any of your friends.

It looks like you’re in a kids room.

But, the bed is a queen, and everything else seems to be in size for a toddler. Stuffed animals shoved into a corner, all of the power outlets covered, and one focused look at yourself tops it all off; you’re in a onesie. A fucking onesie.

Who even took the time to undress you? What the fuck happened last night?

The adrenaline kicks in before you realize, causing you to kick away the covers and jump out of the bed. All your hero instincts, everything you’ve ever trained for in your life goes into overdrive as you reach the door, throwing it open and sucking in a breath when someone behind it lets out a noise of surprise.

“Bakugou?” You make out, brows furrowing, before you let out a laugh, “Oh thank god, I think-” You pause, taking in the glass of water in his hands and the comfortable clothes on his form; sweats and tee. “How… What’s going on?”

You’re taking a step back before realizing, withdrawing your hand from the door handle while unease settles in the pit of your stomach.

He cocks his head to the side, offering the glass to you, “You don’t remember?”

A shake of your head, unsteady hands taking the drink. You eye it warily, memories from last night still foggy, your mind still dazed from the unknown, still trying to process what’s currently happening. But… this is Bakugou. Your friend, your companion, a fellow hero. There’s no reason for you to be nervous, right?

You sip from it, the liquid immediately coating your mouth and causing you to end up gulping down more than half of it.

“You got a little carried away drinking last night,” he says as he watches you drink, “I asked if you wanted me to bring you home so I did.”

You place the now empty cup on the dresser, your headache seeming to increase despite you getting water into your system, unable to prevent the look of confusion crossing over your features as you look around the room, “But… this isn’t my house..?”

Bakugou steps further into the room, closing the door behind him as you close your eyes and rub at your temples again, “It is now.”

You black out before you even have the chance to question what that could mean.

═══ ᴋɪʀɪsʜɪᴍᴀ ᴇɪᴊɪʀᴏ

▹ kirishima would be very hesitant to take you, to be honest

▹ the fact that he’s self-aware holds him back from committing to anything

▹ on one hand….. he can keep you safe, he can protect you from the world

▹ on the other hand……. you can take care of yourself. you’re a big kid, a pro hero

▹ but he really hates the profession you’re in.

▹ you’re just asking to be hurt, you know? and it’s like you want him to watch, too, with you being a sidekick so close to his agency

▹ it hurts, really, having to see you get called on scene for most of the same fights as him and seeing you get absolutely pummeled

▹ but you can hold your own, right?

▹ you can’t

▹ it takes one good punch to the face for all of his resolve to snap, for him to see red, and be the last convincer he needs to take you in

══

You were out of commission. Kirishima honestly didn’t even have any eyes on you, he just knows the static ringing in his ears is coming from your comm and you haven’t responded despite his voice going hoarse with how much he’s called out for you.

Another hero should’ve come to the scene, any other hero would’ve been fine. Instead, fate seemed to mock him. Fate had to send you, and now you were probably out cold or even dead and it’s his fault for even allowing you to step foot in the area.

He shakes his head without realizing he’s doing it. ‘Clear those negative thoughts, Eiji!‘ You would tell him if you were here right now, ‘There’s no point in thinking like that when we have bigger things to worry about!’

Yeah, well look at where that kind of thinking got you now. In a ditch, under some rubble, somewhere he doesn’t know to look yet, and it’ll be a surprise if he can manage to find you- the destruction the villains left in their wake doesn’t aid him in this feat, either.

Then he hears it- a groan.

Cautiously, he slows his speed and looks around the area, eyes scanning over and under every piece of debris he can, calling out if anyone is there, if anyone needs assistance.

“Eiji.” Someone utters, just barely above a whisper. He knows that voice, Kirishima knows who’s calling out to him. Instinct takes over, either primal or heroic, he can’t place it, he can only process himself running and tearing through some debris until his nails are bloody and his hands ache.

Beneath it all is you. Bloody and bruised, but you’re breathing and that’s really all Kirishima can think about. Getting home is a blur. Kirishima didn’t even realize he was en route to his house until he was at the door, adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he unlocked the door with shaky hands. It was a task in itself, adjusting your unconscious form in his arms until he could kick the flimsy wood open and closed with just as much force, but you were here. You were home.

Everything could be okay, now. He just… needs to make a few more preparations.

═══ ᴍɪᴅᴏʀɪʏᴀ ɪᴢᴜᴋᴜ

▹ it’s been said once, it’ll be said again

▹ midoriya is a dirty boy

▹ he plays dirty

▹ he plays you

▹ midoriya would take it upon himself to ask you out before you graduate from ua. you two would be one of the most popular hero couples; highschool sweethearts, fighting crime together during the days and watching rom-coms during the nights

▹ assuming your nights aren’t filled with fighting more crime, that is

▹ but, midoriya gets itchy when he has to witness you fight

▹ it crawls under his skin, burrowing deep beneath his bones until he just has to say something

▹ he’d convince you to quit your profession, over time.

▹ you don’t really need to put yourself in danger, anyways, right? he makes more than enough to support the both of you. you’d be so much prettier just... being his arm candy, too, going to gallas with him and not adorning purple bruises that can rival with the color of his tie.

▹ midoriya is good with his words. he’s good at coercion, good at persuading you that you don’t need all the extra people in your life either- you have him! you love him, he’s all you need.

▹ and you’d listen. without a shadow of a doubt, you’d believe him because you do love him, and he’s never led you astray.

══

Midoriya picked at his nails, a nervous habit he thinks he may have gotten from you. Despite the clear tic, you frown. Open your mouth to argue, but he beats you to the punch.

“I just… don’t think there’s anything wrong with having a few extra locks on the doors…”

“It’s not that there’s something wrong with extra locks,” you start, reaching up to twist at the knob of the door, giving it a pull. Your frown deepens when it doesn’t seem to budge, “I just don’t like the idea of… being locked in my own bedroom.”

“But it’s for your safety…” he whimpers, lip being pulled beneath his teeth, “as one of the top five heroes, I just…. couldn’t… live with myself if you got hurt when it could be avoided.”

“I feel like you forget I was a hero once, too.”

Then you do it, the picking at your nails. Midoriya’s always been analytical, always one to catch onto things quickly, and he’s always one to study you. To study your habits. Based on past experience, you’re close to giving in. You just need one push…

“You were, but... “ he looks to the side, hoping to not offend you with his next choice of words, “but now you just stay at home… I mean, when’s the last time you sparred with someone? Or even… you know, went out and exercised?”

You scoff, unable to hold back the sound, incredulous that he really just said that, “I can still-”

He cuts you off before you could truly form a defense, pressing your shoulder back. You stumble and hit the door behind you. All the air is pushed from your lungs, nails digging into Midoriya’s arms until you feel the crescents form beneath your fingertips, and yet he doesn’t flinch. Narrowed eyes meet your own wide ones, and he’s focused, scary, trying to prove his point.

Proven, it is.

“Okay-” You whisper out, choking back a sob, “Okay, you’re right- I can… I can deal with the locks.”

═══ sʜɪɴsᴏᴜ ʜɪᴛᴏsʜɪ

▹ shinsou can’t control himself around you sometimes

▹ just the thought of you existing, breathing in the same space as him riles him up

▹ you get under his skin in the best of ways by just being you and if shinsou’s anything, he’s impulsive, when it comes to you

▹ he’s always been close to you, anyways, right?

▹ you’d trust him, those around him?

▹ those he trusts?

▹ you wouldn’t think he’s wrong or dirty, for wanting you all to himself

▹ if you did, you wouldn’t be looking at him like that

══

You wake up with a kink in your neck.

Moving to rub at what you know is a knot forming at the top of your spine is impossible, your arms bound to the chair with rope that will surely have your skin rubbed raw with how much struggling is in your future. Your eyes aren’t covered, but that doesn’t seem to matter- the room is dark, too dark to adjust to. You might as well have your eyes closed.

Raking your brain to think of how you got here doesn’t help, a headache forming in the center of your skull and settling deep beneath the bone. You could scream, but it seems all the silva in your mouth has been sucked dry from the gag placed directly over your lips.

What were you doing? What could you defend yourself with? How could you get yourself out of this mess?

Different ideas, different thoughts came and went, but ultimately left you with nothing. An empty plaine. No way out. You blink away the tears forming and pull against the restraints. You refuse to let it end like this. You haven’t even graduated from U.A. yet, you haven’t been able to prove yourself to the world-

There’s a noise out above you, a door slamming, you think. Your kidnappers? Maybe heroes? Your mind’s still too foggy to much more than squint when the room you’re in is suddenly illuminated by an outside light, whoever came in being backlit by the light from behind him.

The door closes behind him, but he flicks a switch on and suddenly the room is much too bright. You flinch away and let your eyes adjust, taking in your surroundings as quickly as you can. A basement, you think. No windows, a concrete floor, a leak coming from one of the corners of the room. Then, he walks down creaky stairs. You look towards him, forcing yourself to meet his eyes.

You meet violet. Lazy. Tired. You know those eyes. You can’t even make a sound to voice your confusion, brows furrowing when his leisure pace doesn’t quicken at your state. There’s no panic, no urgency in the way he struts towards you. He only pauses once he’s in front of you, squatting so he’s eye-level.

He removes the gag.

“What the fuck is going on, Shins-”

“Shhh,” he waves a hand dismissively, cutting you off while toying with the rope keeping you bound to the chair. He doesn’t untie it, “There’s no need to get all fussy. We’ll have you out of here in no time.”

“We?” You can’t help but whisper, pulling at the binding, “undo these right now, I’m not joking.”

If he hears the panic rising in your tone, he doesn’t comment. Instead, he gives you his signature lazy smile and lets his fingers trail from the rope, up and down your arm until goosebumps form where he touches.

The door opens again, and another set of footsteps comes down the stairs.

“Aizawa-sensei?” You whimper out, struggling with new vigor when his pace seemed to match the tranquil state Shinsou had.

“You’ll be more comfortable, there, too. As long as you can behave.” His hand grips your arm suddenly, eliciting a whimper from you and stops you from struggling

“Behave?” You repeat, only to feel your body go rigid and your mind to go white. He pats your cheek lightly, careful to not shake you from his control.

═══ ᴛᴏᴅᴏʀᴏᴋɪ sʜᴏᴛᴏ

▹ the world of heroes just wasn’t made for you

▹ he could see it now, from the panic in your eyes when the cameras flashed a little too close to your face, or when reporters as a questions that a tad too personal

▹ thankfully, he was there

▹ as he gets older, he’s less awkward. more comfortable around himself and his peers

▹ he guides you through the crowd like a knight in shining armor, elbows locked as he leads you into the doors of the gala

▹ like a gentleman. just like his mother taught him

▹ and he remained at your side throughout the night, whether you realized or not

▹ god did you remind him of his mom

▹ so kind. docile. accommodating and kind. everything he wanted. everything he couldn’t have.

▹ he knows he shouldn’t feel this way, he does, but he really just can’t help it!

══

It would be too easy to take you now. While you’re an inebriated, giggling mess. It would raise too many questions, since he offered to escort you home. Shoto would be the last person you saw. He has to be smart about this, if he wants it to last.

But… you look so cute, hanging off of his arm in order to keep yourself upright- cheeks warm and eyes half-lidded.

He wishes he could dive in right now, take you back to his home and keep you there forever. He’s made all the preparations, gotten new locks for the doors and a special room full of your favorite things for when he isn’t home. He just has to be patient.

Someone whistling lowly at you is the last straw, he thinks. It’s hard to remember when all you see is red.

Shoto finds himself bringing you to his home, instead. A push, that’s all he needed. The reminder that the outside world just wasn’t for you; innocent, sweet, pure.

Everything was dirty except for you. He was doing everyone a favor, by keeping you locked away. You wouldn’t have to suffer with anyone corrupt like his father, wouldn’t have to witness the downfall of someone as great as his eldest brother, wouldn’t have to bear the weight of the unkind like his mother.

No, he’d make sure you would remain untainted for as long as he lived. And that starts with laying you on a plush mattress in a room deep inside his estate.

You’re asleep before your head hits the pillow, but that’s alright. He’s ready to introduce you to your new lifestyle when you awake.