#s: this seems like a fix it upper

[eyelessfaces]

just in case

poe dameron x reader

summary: while fiddling with bb–8's memory, you stumble onto an audio message– poe's prerecorded goodbyes.

based on @ivystoryweaver's headcanon on this post! thank you for allowing me to write something about it!

warnings: angst, mentions of death and war

tags: gn!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, kissing, poe being an absolute sap

word count: 2.6k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

He can’t help the fond smile growing over his face at the sight of you, deeply focused on the repair project in front of you before his knuckles hit against the doorframe a couple times, catching your attention. 

Your gaze meets Poe’s as he steps into your workshop, your expression of concentration quickly giving way to an easy smile when you see him, closely followed by BB–8. 

Poe greets you with a kiss, his hand lingering at your side when he pulls away. 

“What’s bringing you here, handsome?” you ask, shifting to put away the tool you still have in hand. “Hey Beebs,” you smile as you glance down at the droid that greets you back. 

Poe gazes down at his droid, his look shifting back at you. “Could you take a look at him whenever you got the time?” he asks, a small, defeated sigh escaping his mouth. 

“What’s up?” you question, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow at him. It hadn’t been that long since you last checked up on the droid.

“I think there’s something up with his memory, he’s been acting a little forgetful lately” Poe explains; you can see the concern in his eyes, can hear the worry in his voice.

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do.” Poe nods, pinching his lips into a quiet smile as he looks down at the droid. “Hey, you don’t have to worry'' you reassure him, resting a hand over his arm. “It’s nothing too serious usually. Nothing I can’t fix.” He nods again, knowing he can trust you with this, knowing you're as good at this as he is at flying. 

“I’ll take care of him as soon as I’m done with that” you point back to the mess of scavenged parts resting over your workbench.

“Thank you sweetheart,” he says, cupping the back of your head and leaning in to leave a quick kiss on your forehead. “I’d stay with you and tell you about my day, but I have my last meeting of the day in about less than five minutes.” he shrugs, starting to walk backwards to exit the room.

“Sure, don’t worry.” you smile. “Come over when you’re done” 

As promised, the minute you’re done repairing the project you were working on, you lower your workbench to BB-8’s level, letting him roll onto the surface before you adjust it to your level so you can examine him. 

“Hey buddy. memory issues huh?” you coo, grabbing your tools, gathering everything you need to check up on him. He responds with upset beeps, his upper part sagging in defeat. 

“That's okay. Happens to the best of us,” you reassure him, setting to work on diagnosing the problem. “So since it seems to be a memory issue, I’m gonna have to look through your data” you explain, opening his access panels. 

It doesn’t take long for you to identify the issue: a few corrupted memory files. It’s a relief to see it's nothing severe, just a bit of corrupted data that needs to be cleaned and restructured. “Hah, found the problem,” you say, beginning the delicate process of correcting the corrupted files. “Looks like some of your memory files got a bit jumbled. Should be fine once we get that sorted out, there shouldn’t be any problem.” you explain. “You know, Poe always gets so worried about you.” you say, trying to keep the droid calm as your fingers work through the wires and circuits. BB–8 emits a series of grateful beeps, and you smile, focusing back on the task at hand. 

As you work on fixing him, BB–8 chirps curiously, his dome turning to watch you. You explain each step in simple terms, trying to distract him and make it the least stressful possible for him. “I’m working through your memory module. Some of these files are corrupted, so I’m cleaning them up and re-organizing everything. Just like tidying up a messy room.”

BB-8 responds with a relieved series of beeps, and you chuckle. “Yeah, I know it’s not fun for you to have me mess with your memory stuff, but I’ll have you be back to your old self in no time.” 

As you carefully rework BB–8’s memory files, you fumble slightly with a delicate wire, causing a brief short circuit – the droid jerks and beeps erratically before suddenly playing a vocal message. You reach to stop it, assuming it’s a manufactured error message you’ve triggered, but you freeze when you recognize Poe’s voice. “Hey baby,” Poe’s voice crackles through BB–8’s speakers, startling you. You frown, confused, ready to stop the audio message. “If you’re hearing this, it’s probably because something happened and I’m not around anymore.” Your heart properly skips a beat. “I’m sorry I’m leaving you like this,” he sighs softly. “Damn it’s weird talking like this when I’m still here,” he chuckles. You step back, driven by morbid curiosity, firmly intending to listen to the rest of it. 

“But you know, with everything that’s been happening lately and that’s gonna happen, you never know what’s next.” 

He sounds tired. You bite down onto your lip, a soft frown forming over your face and your gaze lost as the recording continues. “I could die in two weeks or in twenty years from the moment I’m recording this, so it’s pretty strange. I just… I love you so much. I wanted you to hear it from me one last time.” 

Your lips curl into a weak smile, tears welling up in your eyes. It’s stupid. He’s still here. It’s just a recording in case he dies.

But somehow, you can’t help it. Not with the prospect that you could listen to it again one day, in the context it was intended to be listened to.

“You’ve always been supportive of my bullshit, no matter what, and you were always there for me no matter how stupid I got, so it’s only fair I thank you one last time. I really hope we got to enjoy our time together” 

You pause the audio message, running your hand over your face, sighing deeply. You want to stop there and not listen to the entirety of it, on one hand because you aren't even supposed to hear it or know of its existence in the first place, and most of all because you’re not sure you can handle it – but your curiosity gets the best of you, and you let it go on.

“It’s stupid that I want to cry, because I’m still here” he chuckles. “You know, I’m recording this because I couldn’t sleep.” he declares. You can hear the soft strain in his voice, you can imagine him and his tired eyes, his hair slightly mussed from tossing and turning like he always does when he’s restless.

He sighs deeply before he speaks again. “I uh… Today’s mission went awful. I could have died and I didn’t even tell you” his voice drops with the weight of his words, he pauses for a second, and the knot inside your throat tightens.  

“You’re sleeping in the next room. You know, you looked so peaceful when I got out of bed that I didn't want to bother you by kissing your forehead, but I did it anyway because I remembered I might not be able to do it forever”

You can’t help it, it’s over for you. Tears roll down your cheeks on their own, the back of your hand suppressing your sniffles and the soft laugh you huff out at his way of always saying things that will get you.

BB-8’s upper part shifts, and he emits a soft, sympathetic whirr, trying to console you.

“I’ve left this message with BB-8 because I know he’s always with you if he’s not with me. Take care of him for me, will you? And take care of yourself. You’re stronger than you know, and you’ll get through this. I love you. So much. More than you know. Which is why I’m gonna cut the recording and get back to bed to hold you tight while I can” 

Your heart tightens inside your chest. You slowly shake your head, tears forced out of you when your eyes fall shut.

“Alright, okay, bye sweetheart. I love you.” 

The recording cuts, ending with a click, leaving you in a stunned silence. BB turns to you, beeping sadly, and you give him a weak smile before wiping the tears over your cheeks with the tips of your fingers. 

You huff out a heavy breath, one that you didn’t even realize was smothering your chest, and force yourself to finish taking care of BB–8 despite everything. 

You’re still sobbing when Poe comes in again. 

He finds you, full on tearing up, not even hiding it – which he finds strange, because you usually turn around and pretend to look for something to quickly dry your tears, and proceed to poorly try to deny you’ve been crying just to avoid worrying him. 

And the context he’s facing quickly leads him to assume something is wrong with BB-8, something you couldn’t manage to fix and now blame yourself for – BB–8 is quick to deny with appalled beeps, so Poe really doesn’t have any idea what he’s dealing with. 

When you pull him near and hug him tight, gripping his hair, longing to be as close to him as possible, he’s still as confused, but he’s swift to take action and hold you even tighter.

His embrace is warm, comforting, his touch delicate as his hand appeasingly rubs over your shoulder, and you progressively manage to calm down and quiet your sobs. “What’s going on babe” he quietly asks, trying to not pounce on you. His fingers carefully lift your chin up, taking care of clearing the tears from your face, his eyes searching yours intensely as he waits for your answer.

You sigh softly, your breath still ragged from sobbing. “I was working on Beebs and I found your…” you pause, realizing you’re not even sure what to call it. You're not even sure you want to say it out loud, to say it's a goodbye message. “I found your recording– I didn't mean to, it just–”

“Oh,” his face drops in saddened surprise, immediately understanding what you’re talking about. “Oh baby” he sighs, shaking his head as he pulls you back into his arms. You weren't supposed to know about this, even less hear it fully, not until he died, that is. “I didn’t want to scare or worry you. I’m sorry you had to hear that– it was just… a precaution.” he murmurs as you cling to him, the remnants of your tears dampening his shirt.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice weak and muffled against his chest. “I just– It was hard to hear. I don’t want to think about losing you”

“I don’t want to think about leaving you either,” he says softly, pulling back just enough to look at your face again. His thumb brushes away the last of your tears when you look at him, his gaze over you filled with a mix of sorrow and unwavering love that you manage to feel just by looking into his dark, warm eyes. “But I need you to know how much you mean to me, no matter what happens”

“Poe,” you scoff-whine. “I know. You’re pretty transparent about it already” you grin. 

When he’s not saying it explicitly, he always has a hand on you, always at least leaves a kiss over your cheek or forehead when he’s not full-on kissing you, and always makes sure to bring you back those jogan fruit cakes you like from Coruscant when he has to go there, and just the way he looks at you has you aware that he loves you, so he really doesn’t need to do that much, but he’s Poe Dameron, so it’s a prerogative.

“I happen to be a very romantic man” he jokes, smiling when he sees you chuckle and shake your head the way you do when he pulls stupid lines. “I just wanted you to hear it from me one last time sweetheart.”

“You and your dramatic flair” you tease lightly, gripping onto his jacket as you let out a soft groan. “You couldn’t just leave a normal message, could you?”

“You know, subtlety isn’t my strong suit” he grins, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “But seriously, I’m sorry you had to hear it like this. It was meant for dramatic times, not when I was about to ask you if you wanted to get dinner off base like now.”

You snort up a laugh, your arms wrapping around his neck. “You do owe me dinner after that.” 

“I know, right?” he scoffs, an amused smile over his face. “And it means I get to spend more of my alive time with you, so–” he teases, his fingers gently rubbing your back. “Stop that, it’s not funny” you frown, playfully hitting his chest with the back of your hand. “–Plenty of time to remind you that I love you” his hand squeezes yours gently.

You pull him closer, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that is both tender and intense, slow at first but deepening when the fear, the relief, the overwhelming love you feel for him step at the front of your mind. His hand moves from your hip to cup your face, his thumb caressing the skin of your cheeks rough from the tears.

When you break apart, your foreheads are still linked, his fingers gently tracing your face, your breaths mingling. “I’m joking about this, but I promise I’ll do my best for you to not have to listen to this recording again anytime soon.” 

“Mh, hope ‘anytime soon’ means a few decades at least”

“I promise. I love you too much to leave you like this. And I know I’ll look sexy when my hair turns gray” he adds with a playful smile.

You laugh, the sound breaking the lingering tension and bringing a sense of normalcy back. “Oh, definitely” you grin, raking your fingers through his curls. “Most handsome silver fox in the galaxy.” 

Poe smiles, kissing you again, softly. You can very clearly feel BB–8’s presence when you pull away, his needy beeps attesting of his need for attention.

“Yeah, alright buddy” you sigh, turning back to the droid to finish up his repair.

“So he’s okay?” Poe asks, approaching the workbench. 

“He’s all fine, good as new” you smile. “Hey, try running a diagnostic”

The droid runs his internal check, beeping happily once he’s done and everything seems to be alright.

“See?” you turn to Poe. “All good.” you grin at him, glad to have something concrete to smile about after that emotional rollercoaster you went through.  

“Thank you, really. I knew you’d fix him up” Poe declares, smiling as he watches BB roll off the workbench and onto the floor, navigating around your feet. “And I was serious about that dinner, by the way,” he says, watching you putting away your tools and tidying up your workbench. “We could both use a break.”

“Yeah,” you agree, scoffing. 

Poe’s hand finds yours as you turn the light off and leave the workshop, your fingers tangling as you walk through the corridors of the base, finding your way out. 

“Hey,” Poe calls, pulling you closer as you walk. You hum, looking at him, noticing the slight hint of worry in his eyes. “You really think I’d look hot with gray hair?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Absolutely baby”

A content smile grows over his face, and he nods. “Cool.”

—

any and every comment/reblog is greatly appreciated!!

star wars taglist:

@lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift

@whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry

@jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious

@stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @pigeonmama

[doudouma]

Heyo! I'd like to request a top three upper moon x s/o! Reader who is kind of mad at them and refuses to cuddle them (but ends up the one cuddling when they thought that they fell asleep- which they didn't.)

“wait, i thought you were sleeping?!”

upper3 reaction to you cuddling them but you’re angry! _______________________________________________

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

you’re upset at the upper moon trio (separate), but you cuddle them when you thought they fell asleep〜

there are no warnings, my dear lotus.

↑ (reader spooning character, if you’re worried about that.)

reader is gender neutral.❀ 〜

a/n : for some reason, i couldn’t comprehend this request. after all, it was late at night〜apologies my lotus, this request is cute！

！anon, i want to apologize to you. right when i finished writing, i reread the request and realized i slightly misunderstood it, and i do not know how to fix it. i decided to post it anyways. m(_ _)m

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

kokushibo

kokushibo.. your straight-forward silent lover…

he knows why you could potentially be upset, but doesn’t see the purpose of being upset about it.

you were upset at something that happened earlier, and tried to ask for a solution from your beloved〜

he gave you your answer, alright.. but he worded it in a way that might’ve made it seem like it was your fault on what happened.

he didn’t try to! he just tried to get you to realize where exactly it went wrong.

now… he’s just waiting in anticipation for your response.

but instead, you just sit there just trying to pinpoint what his goal in mind was. looking a more upset than before.

forgetting it all, you end up heading to bed, attempting to just relax.

drifting off to sleep (if you’re able to sleep), you suddenly remember that your lover didn’t join you to bed. will a small disagreement split the two of you up into separate rooms tonight?

your eyes quickly widen and see that kokushibo is there, but with his back facing you.

when did he even get in here?! it looks like he’s been here for a minute too. sneaky uppermoon one…

now that you’re relieved, you move closer to him, and place your arm around him to his heart♡

he slightly smiles, only smiles. eventually he tells you as he rest his eyes..

“i apologize for the way i initially communicated with you. we may talk this out tomorrow, with less misunderstandings, (name).”

douma

douma wouldn’t understand why you’re mad at him!

teasing is just his nature! no matter how harsh it is, to him, he’s only speaking out of love.

which he is, but.. he doesn’t consider that other people could find it offensive or annoying.

he’ll listen when you voice your opinion on his absurd way of showing love, but, it’ll only result in more teasing〜

eventually, you get too fed up with his cockiness and foul teasing to the point where you just go to bed! without him!

even while upset at your love, you do fairly want him by your side, even if he is being a little s- -

- -so like i said, he wouldn’t fully understand on why you’re upset, so he’s not giving you any personal space.

therefore, he ends up joining you in bed〜

in bed where it feels like forever, with the both of you facing opposite ways.

you silently look over, and to what it seems like he’s “sleeping”.

soon enough you flip over and spoon him, while a smirk appears on doumas face, as he places his hand on top of yours♡

somehow in a span of three seconds, now he’s spooning you, hugging you while saying,

“oh, my love! i knew you couldn’t stay mad at me for too long〜 oh how much i’ve missed you♡”

akaza

akaza is aware of where this all went wrong, but in his brain (if demons have one atp) he just tried to help.

today was just not the day for you.

maybe someone was being annoying, you lost a fight, woke up on the wrong side of the bed, who knows.

whatever happened, akaza was determined to fix it, because he only wants his lover to be happy!

but… you just wanted to be alone. sometimes alone time is all you need〜

but akaza kept bringing you things you like, kept staying near you, and kept asking if everything was alright♡

you accepted his kindness and offers, but you genuinely just wanted to be alone to recharge, but your lover being persistent as he is only made you feel more annoyed.

you expressed that, but he just kept following you like a lost puppy!

in due time, you end up vaguely telling off akaza for “pestering” you and how you just had a awful day.

he stands there, with a blanket and pillow in his hand, not saying a word as you walk off to bed… and he follows you.

he tucks both of you to bed, and you both lay there facing opposite ways.

you lay there, thinking over your day. you shortly realize that akaza was there for you even at your lowest, but you didn’t see it because you were already upset.

you turn around, and swiftly spoon the “sleeping” akaza, holding his hand〜

he lets out a little chuckle and caresses your hand to tell you,

“i’m sorry for ruining your day even further. but i’m glad to be here for you now. sometimes just a hug is all you need, my love.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

besides me accidentally messing this up, the request was fun to write! i’m trying to dive into other fandoms and post more often. i look forward into having your support, my precious flowers.❀ 〜

[kiame-sama]

Omega Marechi (Yandere!Upper-Moons x Omega!Reader x Yandere!Muzan)

Warnings; yandere, multiple yandere, stalking, mention of violence, mention of social imbalance, my abo au (less than 1000 omegas world wide and omegas are a commodity of sorts), omega reader, abo social ladder, abo societal structure, unfair situations, instinct manipulation, kidnapping, threat of murder, blood, violence, mention of human consumption, demons, female bodied reader, female reader pronouns (let me know if y'all want a male version).

(It's a personal headcannon of mine that omegas are short & chubby, so very soft and squishy)

(Also, let me know if y'all want a continuation of this, I have a certain idea involving stockades I have been interested in trying out)

~~~~~~~~

Deep within the winding surfaces and ever changing interior of a fortress wreathed in darkness, demons began to gather. Though they were few in number, each demon had their own impressive strengths and abilities that set them apart from the many other members of their brood. Even with their combined presence and strength, their master stood above them in every way possible.

The king of demons, he who sired every other demon, stood watching his upper ranked generals as they gathered beneath him. Short dark hair seemed to swallow all light in the inky abyssal color, bright red eyes glinting like lit lanterns on the darkest of nights. His fair skin unblemished and so smooth it could be mistaken for the marble of a true artisan's finest work. Truly a vision of a true apex alpha with the beauty of a divine being.

The six generals that gathered were supposed to be without company and solely focused on their sire, yet one was not alone. Next to the top general of the king's army was a large rectangular box shape that was draped in heavy fabrics to conceal what may be held within. The fabrics seemed to be soaked in a heavy perfume mixed with the hint of an unusually appealing scent that taunted the senses.

"What have you brought, Kokushibou?"

The deep and commanding voice of the demon king rumbled out with a tint of curiosity in his tone. Where he expected quite a bit from his upper moons, even he had to admit that the actions of his top general were odd. It was not often that the upper moons did something that surprised him- and usually was met with a swift reprimand- but his curiosity had been peaked by the abnormal behavior.

Without saying a word, Kokushibou gripped the heavy fabric and quickly pulled it away, revealing what had been concealed. Beneath the cloth lay an iron cage- much like what an exotic beast would be transported in- with blankets lining the bottom of the cage for cushion. The cage itself wasn't very interesting when compared to what lay within.

Laying bound in the iron cage was a woman, her (h/c) locks strewn around her head and her (s/c) flesh looked incredibly plush and no doubt was soft to the touch. A delicate and fine silk kimono wrapped around her bound form, even that which held her was made of the expensive materials. Her eyes were covered in a long silk ribbon, mouth held shut by an intricate golden muzzle, her arms cuffed together with similarly intricate cuffs in front of her and lower legs cuffed together.

A woman- no matter how decorated- wasn't much to crow about, but the pungent scent that had been smothered by the perfumes was now free and quickly reached those nearby. There was a visible change in the way the other upper moons stood, their nostrils flaring and eyes fixed on the soft woman as they contemplated what she was. The scent reached Muzan last, but he knew immediately what was being presented to him, though he could scantly believe what his senses were telling him.

"No," Douma started, his multi colored eyes wide in disbelief, "that's impossible. Omegas aren't real! It must be a trick."

"Looks real to me. Smells real too. Actually," Akaza sniffed, looking curiously at the bound female, "she smells like a marechi."

A soft whimper came from within the cage, the female inside moving and seemingly trying to pull away from her binds. The muzzle secured on her kept her from speaking and muffled her sounds as she responded to the voices around her. Blindly she turned her head towards the sound of Akaza speaking, seemingly trying to understand where she was and who she was with.

"She was being transported as cargo on a train. From her scent, it was made clear to me that she is an Omega and a marechi. She has no mating marks present on her body. The humans transporting her were on their way to deliver her to slayers, a gift from a small village of fools."

Muzan silently descended from where he had been standing above the upper moons, approaching the cage curiously. The other demons watched in interest as their sire crouched, observing the bound female that had been presented to him. He had not encountered an omega, even in his long life, so seeing such a rare and unusual being in a cage was surreal. Truly, he had thought omegas were just another myth created by humans.

He reached a finger between the bars, his sharp nail gently scraping over the exposed neck of the omega. Naturally, she responded with a fearful sound at the feeling of something sharp against her neck, trying to writhe away from the sensation. The obvious fear was accompanied by an intense scent that prodded at their minds to defend the soft woman from whatever may be causing her distress.

Muzan observed the struggling of the delicacy he had been presented with, red eyes gleaming and unwavering. After a moment of simply watching the omega struggle, he reached his hands forward to grip the cage bars. With one flex, the metal groaned beneath his hands, crumpling like sand and bending out of shape. One of his hands held the cage still as he ripped the bar off of the cage, pulling out several more until he could access the omega.

The loud sound of the metal bending and crushing had clearly upset the omega who let out a muffled scream into the muzzle, body twisting and writhing to escape the frightening sound and its source. Another scream escaped her as one of Muazan's hands gripped the back of the her kimono, dragging her out of the remnants of the cage. A sharp scent made him freeze, the taunting ambrosia of marechi blood filled his nostrils as he moved to examine the omega.

Sitting on her cheek was the smallest of cuts, blood slowly beading along the line of the slice. Within the second Muzan noticed the small injury, a greedy mouth formed along his hand. The elongated tongue quickly stretching out and slowly laving over the gathered blood with an apparent groan of satisfaction rumbling in his chest from the taste.

His pleasured sound only seemed to frighten the omega more, whimpering out and beginning to cry from the terror. It was understandable, she had been in the cage for an unknown time and now was listening to the sound of an unknown assailant flavor her blood. With a quick motion the blindfold was pulled away, revealing (e/c) eyes that were filled with delicate tears and horror.

Her gaze became fixed on the bright red eyes of the predator in front of her, body falling completely still. Much like the way an injured fawn would freeze upon seeing the open jaws of a bear. The body of the soft omega seemed to curl in on itself, as if she were trying to seem as small as possible all without looking away.

He lifted his free hand towards her and gripped her ornate metal muzzle despite her frightened sounds and slow shaking of her head back and forth. She cringed and closed her eyes tightly as his hand gripped the clasp of the muzzle that held it on.

For a moment, things seemed to stand still in baited anticipation of what the demon king would do next. All upper moons keenly awaited their sire's next move as it would determine the fate of the omega they all were interested in. Wanting to get their hands on her if he allowed her to live, or wanting a piece of her if he chose to consume her.

A soft click of metal could be heard in the profound silence as the clasp of the muzzle was disconnected.

~~0~~

You warily watched the frightening man remove the muzzle you wore, seeing how hungrily he looked at you the entire time. He seemed to be contemplating you, much like many others would when first coming into contact with you. The man- or monster, would be more accurate- suddenly grinned, hand gripping your neck and slowly lifting you up.

Even with how you struggled, the man seemed to have no problem holding you until he was fully standing. His expression became more fierce as the veins in his face became more pronounced, tongue slowly dragging over his lips. After a moment he lowered you so your feet were on the ground, no longer holding you off the ground but still holding you in place.

"You are a truly unfortunate human. Luckily for you, I intend to keep you for the time being. You staying alive or not will be determined by your actions."

~~~~~~~~

You had been taken to a large ornate bed that no doubt belonged to the demonic alpha that broke your chains but left your cuffs. From the way he stared at you, you felt like you were being appraised much in the way one would appraise a meal. A yelp escaping your lips as you were thrown down on the soft surface.

In seconds you felt the silk that held your clothing together rip open, the ornate kimono falling open. Your body was completely left exposed to the intense gaze of the man, you had been dressed for meeting several new mates who were top members of the demon slayers. Instead it seemed the demons found you and decided to keep you for the time being.

Part of you was terrified to fight back as you didn't wish to anger the demon that took you to bed. Based off of his scent, you knew you were dealing with an alpha of great strength and willpower. The alpha himself seeming to be above other alphas that you had caught the scents of whenever one would pass through your village. He was clearly the one others answered to as they had gotten out of his way rather quickly when he decided to drag you to his chambers.

You tried to keep your thighs pressed together to give yourself some kind of protection, but the demon was quick to pry them open. His gaze was intense and you felt your body warm in response to how he stared at your exposed figure. A whimper from you seemed to break the trance he was in as his eyes flicked up to look at you for several seconds.

"And still, you are afraid. Tell me, Omega, did the humans you lived amongst even give you a name, or have you always been Omega?"

"My name," you struggled to keep the fear out of your voice as you answered the alpha demon, "it's (Y/n), (L/n)(Y/n)."

"(Y/n)? I am Kibutsuji Muzan, king of demons. You have gained my attention, (Y/n), quite dangerous indeed. I expect you to be an obedient omega, understand?"

"Ye-yes, I understand, Alpha."

"Good."

You whined softly as one of his hands came up to palm your soft chest as if appraising it like fruit. His bright red eyes gleaming in interest as he observed you trying to sit still for him and let him continue what he wanted. Clearly you were a high tier omega as you were so obedient and did exactly what the alpha told you to do.

The village you grew up in must have trained you to be a good omega, taking the word of an alpha as law. In any case, he was quite pleased to have such a treasure in his grasp. He vaguely considered keeping the omega for himself, but he knew the way the upper moons stared, even Akaza showed clear interest.

An omega would certainly be a unique reward and incentive to push the upper moons further. Beyond just that, using the unique human omega sent could throw off the slayers in such a way there would be no one left to stand against the demon king.

[elliesfavbae]

Summer camps and dead mouses, Part 3 series

Summer camp with enemy to lovers Ellie Williams.

part 1, part 2, part 4

synopsis: You went to a summer camp for the first time. Among many people, you've met someone who seems to hate you - her name is Ellie Williams. Suddenly, she starts to avoid you completely. What happened?

pairing: mean!Ellie Williams x reader

warnings: use of y/n, Ellie is a bitch, swearing

note: sorry it took me so long to post this! I didn’t have my laptop with me while I was away and returned literally yesterday

wc:3500

About fifteen people are gathered in a circle with a bottle in the middle. You look up; the dark sky peeks through the gaps in the trees. It’s a cloudless night, with stars twinkling brilliantly above. Since you’re deep in the woods, far from any cities, the sky is a stunning tapestry of stars. It’s so different from the view you have back at home in the city.

Your reflections are interrupted by a deep voice. “Quiet, everyone! Let’s start the game.”

The person who just spoke is the first to spin the bottle. He’s a boy around your age, wearing a simple beige t-shirt and light jeans that are pretty worn out and dirty at the bottom. He reaches out to touch the bottle and spins it. The glass revolves for a few seconds before it lands on a girl. You try to make out her features in the dim light of a few flashlights, but it’s hard to tell if you know her. You don’t think you’ve met her before. Does it even matter?

Since it’s the first round, the pair is quite shy about making the first move, but the girl’s friends push her toward the boy, and they finally muster enough courage to connect their lips. It’s a simple kiss, a peck even, but that’s enough to make the crowd cheer.

You cringe at the thought that every round of this game might be like this. Half of us are probably adults already or at least 17. You start to regret playing this childish game.

You scan the faces around you, trying to read their expressions, when your eyes land on Ellie. The second you look at her, she quickly turns her head in the opposite direction. Was she looking at you? You quickly push the thought away. No, why would she? Especially after claiming many times that she hates you. She was probably looking at someone next to you, or something.

The girl on whom the bottle landed spins it again. It lands on another boy, whom you recognize from archery yesterday. The boy spins the bottle once more, and it lands on a different boy, one you don’t know.

“Wait, what?” You whisper to Olivia next to you. You don’t understand what just happened. What are the rules?

“You’ve never played before? One of the people who just kissed spins the bottle. Once it stops, the person for the next round is picked. Then, that person spins the bottle to find a pair for themselves,” she explains quietly. “Get it now?”

To be honest, you’re not entirely sure you understand, but you’ll catch on. You nod.

You miss the moment when the previously picked people kiss. One of them spins the bottle, and it lands on a blonde, muscular girl. Wait, you know her—it’s Abby. She’s wearing the same braid she had before.

“Alright.” Abby reaches out to spin the glass bottle. The material catches the light, casting shimmering reflections around it. It spins for a while before it begins to slow down. You’re sure it’s going to land on your friend on your left, but it turns a little more and lands on you.

“Y/n,” Abby says with the same friendly smile she gave you while rock climbing. ‘So she remembers me,’ you think.

You shift closer to her, feeling everyone’s gaze fixed on the both of you. You try to return the smile she’s offering as you both lean in. You close your eyes when you’re close enough, and she’s the first to press her lips to yours.

Her lips are surprisingly smooth and soft. You feel her kiss your upper lip, so you mirror the motion with her lower one. You catch a hint of vanilla in her scent. The moment is brief, though. She pulls away quickly, and you follow suit. You try to sneak glances at the people around you to gauge their reactions. Some cheer, some laugh—not in a mean way. One reaction stands out, though. It’s Ellie, her face filled with… anger? Her face muscles are tense, her jaw clenched, and she’s definitely looking directly at you. You don’t have much time to analyze as a voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Y/n, spin the bottle.” You reach for the cold glass. You spin it, but you no longer care where it lands.

Your mind returns to Ellie. What was that about? You definitely didn’t just imagine her anger. Maybe she was jealous of Abby?

“Damn.” Olivia laughs quietly.

“Did you see how Ellie looked at me?” you whisper back.

“That’s what I meant—she looked furious.”

“Yeah, I’ve got no idea why, though.”

“What? You just kissed her ex.” You look at her in disbelief.

“Abby was dating Ellie?” You widen your eyes, and she nods.

“A few years ago, yeah.”

That makes sense. Ellie is still jealous of her ex, and a girl she despises just kissed her. You feel a strange sense of victory—you managed to annoy her without even trying.

You refocus on the game. Abby is once again in the middle, leaning in to kiss another girl. When did this happen? It doesn’t matter. You glance at Ellie, searching for any sign of anger on her face. This time, aside from her usual scowl, she seems completely unbothered. It doesn’t make sense; Abby is kissing someone else again, but there’s no trace of anger from Ellie. You’re utterly confused.

The game continues as if nothing happened until you feel a pressure in your bladder. You look to your right at Olivia, but she’s deeply engrossed in a conversation with a pretty girl by her side. You decide not to interrupt and simply just let her know where you’re going. She nods in understanding.

You get up and head into the dark woods with only a flashlight in hand. Once you can’t hear the chatter, you figure you’re far enough. Unbuckling your pants, you hope not to encounter any animals, let alone people.

You wipe your hands with a wet wipe after you finish, walking back toward your friends. Oddly, you can’t hear anyone anymore, even as you get closer. You’re sure you took the right path. When you reach the circle, everyone has disappeared. It’s clearly the same spot, evidenced by the worn circle on the ground. You flash your light around, searching for anyone. You come closer and nearly jump out of your skin—a figure is lying on the ground. You squint and, to your horror, it’s Ellie.

“Get this shit off my face!” she screams, squinting her eyes. You turn off the flashlight.

“Where is everyone?”

“They went back to the camp.” Even in the darkness, you can sense her disdain. “Why do you care?”

“And why are you still here?”

“And why should I explain myself to you? It’s none of your business.” Her frustration is palpable. She’s so infuriating.

You decide to head back to camp, but you realize you don’t know the way. You stand there, pondering what to do.

“Why are you still here?” Ellie asks again.

“I don’t know how to get back to the camp,” you admit, and you hear Ellie groan.

You hear a quiet “fuck me” before she stands up. You turn your flashlight back on. It seems she’ll accompany you back to camp. She’s holding something in her hand—a sketchbook. You try to look closer and make out a few blurry sketches of a person and a drawing of a night sky.

“Do you draw?” you ask without thinking. Ellie quickly hides the journal behind her back.

“No, I don’t.” She’s clearly lying.

Okay, whatever. It’s a shame, you think. If she weren’t such a bitch for no reason, she could be a pretty cool person. She dresses nicely, you hate to admit it, but she’s actually attractive and seems to have some interesting hobbies.

You walk in silence, just holding your flashlights. You look up at the night sky. The sky remains cloudless, with stars shining brightly. Some are larger, brighter than others. Some are blinking, as if they might extinguish and never be seen again.

The silence between you and Ellie is suffocating. You take a deep breath before speaking. “Look, that red shining dot is Mars. My dad used to teach me some astronomy stuff.”

Ellie actually looks up. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s Antares, not Mars. Mars isn’t even visible in this part of the sky right now. Guess your dad is an amateur.” She says it so nonchalantly, as if she didn’t have to think before speaking.

Mars, Antares, whatever. At least she didn’t tell you to ‘shut the fuck up and never speak to her again’ like she usually does. You decide to pursue the topic. Maybe this conversation could be more than just a few minutes of insults, and besides, you can’t stand the silence.

You didn’t lie—your dad did try to teach you about astronomy, but it was so long ago, you barely remember anything. You try to recall anything he told you about it and speak up again. “Whatever. At least you can see the North Star and the Little Dipper. It’s my favorite star. It’s fascinating that the North Star always stays in the same spot. Did you know it’s one of the brightest stars in the northern sky?” You point to a bright star, pretty sure it’s Polaris. Well, you can’t really see the Little Dipper, but it’s probably somewhere nearby.

“Polaris isn’t in this part of the sky either.” Ellie chuckles, clearly proud of herself. “It’s Spica. Pretty basic stuff. I thought everybody knew that. At least you got the facts right, but if you want to show off, make sure the whole thing is true.”

Her ego is inflated even more than usual. You wish you’d never brought up the topic. What’s worse—and you hate to admit it—is that she seems to know quite a bit about astronomy. Suddenly, Ellie speaks up. She sounds more… lost in her thoughts? 

“My favorite star is Tabby’s star. It’s a big mystery for astronomers. You can’t see it now, but it’s blueish. Some scientists think it might be used by aliens as a source of energy because of its unusual energy drops,” she clears her throat, “I mean, whatever, it’s not like I care about stars.” However, her tone betrays a genuine interest.

And that’s the first time she’s spoken to you for so long without offending you. Wow.

You notice you’re close to the camp gate. You feel relieved—you won’t have to endure Ellie’s presence and self-aggrandizement any longer.

You split up without saying another word.

Finally, you find your roommates, and you don’t bother hiding your annoyance. “Why did you leave me in the woods?!”

“Y/n? Sorry, we thought you’d already left with someone or something,” Leah, a girl from your room, apologizes. 

Right, you didn’t inform the girls from your room about leaving, just Olivia.

“And where’s Olivia?”

“Oh, she’s a little busy with that girl at the moment…” Emma looks suggestively to your left, and as you follow her gaze, you see Olivia clearly flirting with the same girl from earlier. You’ll have to talk to her once she’s done.

“But you’re back in one piece, after all,” Leah says again.

“Yeah, but at what cost?” You dramatically roll your eyes. “Ellie had to walk with me because I didn’t know the way.”

“That’s pretty nice of her, isn’t it?”

“No, I mean yes, but she was being a bitch, as always.”

“Oh, I know. I saw the way she looked at you when you kissed Abby!” So not only you and Olivia noticed!

“I mean, I probably wouldn’t be too thrilled if someone kissed my ex…”

“Abby and Ellie were a couple?” Leah asks, shocked.

“Yeah, why do you think Ellie is acting like such an ass around the main counselor?” Emma continues. “A few years ago, Ellie broke up with Abby. It was a big deal at the camp. Rumor has it Abby cheated on Ellie with a guy—Owen, I think.”

It all makes sense now. You swear the click in your head was so loud it could’ve been heard by everyone. Ellie broke up with Abby, so she wants to get back at her. That’s pretty petty.

“Why does she keep coming back here if that’s what happened?”

“She still has friends here and knows everyone. But honestly, I don’t know either.”

Well, she shouldn’t concern you. You push her out of your mind and try not to think about her again.

You can hear the counselor blowing whistles from afar, and after a few minutes, the camp director announces, “The Treasure Hunt is over,” right, you forgot about the Treasure Hunt, “and the winners are Ryan and Max from the third group. Good job!” The crowd cheers.

You sigh and look around as the counselors line everyone up and start counting heads. A few people are missing, but after a minute or two, they all return from the dark woods accompanied by counselors. Your friends were right—everyone made it back safely. That’s quite impressive.

You walk back to your cabin with your roommates and some other campers, gossiping about everything that happened tonight. When you arrive at your room, everyone is so tired they immediately head to bed, forgetting any pre-sleep chatter.

***

It’s the next morning. When you open your eyes, you remember everything from the night before—Abby, Spin the Bottle, Ellie… You can’t quite explain it, but when Ellie talked about the stars last night, she seemed… different? It’s strange to say, considering she only said a few sentences and managed to offend you in half of them. But it’s like she revealed another side of her to you. She doesn’t seem like the type to discuss nerdy interests, at least not until yesterday.

The day passes like usual. You’ve already been to archery, basketball, and now it’s time for biking. You would never have guessed that biking would be your choice among all the available activities, but Olivia’s convincing made it sound promising. Apparently, if you’re nice enough to the counselor, they might take you to a shop outside of the camp, in the nearest village. Sure, there’s a store on the camp, but its prices are outrageous, and their selection is limited to sugar-free imitations of real food.

You arrive at the bike shed with Olivia. You’re not really focused on your surroundings, too absorbed in laughing at Olivia’s story, until you reach one of the bikes. Just as you’re about to take it, you notice someone else’s hands on it. You look up and, of course, they’re Ellie Williams’. Her auburn hair is tied in a bun, spilling out of her helmet and covering her freckled face.

You brace yourself for another round of insults, but to your surprise, she drops her gaze when your eyes meet, removes her hands from the bike, turns around, and walks away to find another vehicle. The odds of a meteor striking the camp right now seem more likely than this.

For the next minute, you expect her to return and scold you for taking her bike, but nothing happens.

The rest of the activity is uneventful. Instead of visiting the shop, you go to a different spot by the waterfall and take a twenty-minute break to play cards with other campers. Ellie doesn’t join you; she spends the time talking to her friend. She doesn’t even look at you the whole time.

Tonight’s evening activity is team challenges. You’re divided into groups of twelve and compete in various games. You���re lucky to be in a group with some of your friends. Ellie is there too. It’s as if fate insists on you two crossing paths. Except this time, Ellie seems determined to avoid you. She stays out of your way—sitting out the Capture the Flag challenge and Tug-of-War, and then disappearing when she swaps groups with another girl.

You discuss it with Olivia later. “It’s just weird how she went from being a total asshole to suddenly avoiding me!”

“I mean, I’d be happy if I were you. She finally stopped bothering you. Maybe she just got bored of being a bitch?”

That does sound rational. You’re not even sure why you care so much.

“You’re right. I should be glad she finally let it go. But she even hid from me during the challenges today. I mean, she seems to love competing and gloating after winning…”

“Y/n, I don’t want to sound rude, but have you considered that maybe it isn’t about you? Maybe she’s having a bad day, or she’s upset about something else,” Olivia says suddenly. You think about it and feel a little embarrassed. She’s right—the world doesn’t revolve around you. Ellie’s behavior could be due to anything. Maybe that counselor she was flirting with earlier? Or Abby? “You seem like you can’t get her out of your head, though.” Olivia giggles.

“What? No, I totally hate her.” You roll your eyes and join her giggles.

After that, Olivia excuses herself and disappears to meet with that girl from yesterday. Seems like they're practically inseparable since the Treasure Hunt.

You go back to the cabin on your own, where you meet your other friends.

***

Another day passes by. Everything seems normal, Ellie doesn’t bother you anymore. From the meanest bitch you’ve met, she turned into someone who seems afraid to even talk to you. At first, you wonder if anything has happened. No one changes so drastically without a reason. You even ask a person or two if they know what happened, when you realize it’s not your problem. You’re overreacting, she might be just in a bad mood, it’s only been a couple of days.

It's evening already. After a day full of activities, you have hungrily thrown yourself at the pancake plate. You and your roommates are excited for tonight’s evening activity, it’s a bonfire; you can’t wait for the s’mores, singing and gossiping by the bonfire.

You’re leaving the dining hall, when someone runs up to you and pats you on the shoulder.

You turn around and see it’s Abby, smiling as always. You smile when you see her, too.

“Hey y/n, how you doing?” She starts walking next to you, you can feel a faint scent trailing behind her. It’s like a mix of fresh forest air and vanilla, probably it’s her shower gel.

“I can’t wait for the campfire tonight,” you admit.

“Right… That Treasure Hunt night was fun, wasn’t it?” Memories of that night flood your mind again. Looking at Abby, you remember Spin the bottle game, your kiss.

“Yeah, except the fact I had to walk back to the camp with Ellie by my side.” You sigh and look at Abby, her brows furrow a little. Right, you probably shouldn’t have mentioned Ellie to Abby. “God, sorry, I probably shouldn’t be talking about her…”

“What?” Abby seems genuinely confused.

“I mean, you guys seem to still have some unresolved stuff going on…”

“What? No, we’re totally cool now.” Abby laughs it off. Her face is relaxed, she seems to be telling the truth. “Want to sit down?” Abby points in a direction and your gaze follows her finger. She’s pointing at just some overgrown bushes.

“In the bushes?” You don’t understand.

“No, there’s a bench inside,” Abby chuckles. Right, you remember now - it’s the spot Olivia showed you earlier.

“Oooh, right. Sure…” As you walk closer with Abby by your side, you remember the things your friend told you about this spot. Like a romantic hideout or something?

You start wondering if Abby took you here purposely, knowing about this place’s reputation. It’s not like you don’t like Abby… Sure, she’s attractive, kind and stuff, you’re just not interested in her in that way… Maybe she got the wrong idea of you two after the kiss? You probably should tell her what you feel.

You fight your way through the thorny plants and both sit down on the wooden bench.

“So, as I said, me and Ellie are fully over.” When you’re just about to pick up the feelings topic, Abby starts talking. Guess you will have to try another time.

“Are you sure? Because I thought that when we kissed that night, Ellie got, like, super pissed off,”

“Really? I mean, it wasn’t about me, for sure.” Abby shakes her head. Well, if it wasn’t about Abby, then about what? You realize you’re sitting pretty close to Abby. Did she move closer to you? Abby puts her hand up and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Your hair is so pretty,”

When you’re just about to respond, someone comes up to you, their steps are heavy.

“Abby? Y/n?” A familiar voice reaches your ears. Not in a calm tone, though. You quickly jump away from Abby and look up. At first you think it might be Olivia, but it’s someone much more unexpected. It’s Ellie.

TAGLIST: @lI17284839 it wont let me tag u:(

@littlelittlebear

@diddiqueen

@kl1q

@abslvr111

@slut4els

thank u for all the support pookies!!!

[chloesolace]

Hello! May I request an Astarion x reader?

Reader is a happy girl who likes to help others. However, they help others because they feel inadequate. Astarion notices they slip into a depressive episode (which at first, they hid well), and comfort ensues. If possible, could s/h or s/h scars be included? In need of some comfort. (No suggestiveness, please).

Thank you!

Moonlight - Astarion x Reader

summary: You meet Astarion at night while the others are sleeping, and he quickly realizes something is wrong. He was been observing you rather closely, which makes it hard to hide your pain from him, but you quickly realize that perhaps you do not need to hide from him after all.

pairing: Astarion x Reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: mentions of self-harm, scars

a/n: Thank you so much for this request <3 and I hope that you are well, anon. I hope that this story gives you some comfort.

Masterlist - Discord Server - Request Info

The sky had long turned dark, illuminated only by the stars and moon, their distorted reflections staring back at you from the surface of the river. Around you, crickets chirped, and a handful of fireflies danced underneath the soft glow of the moon. You turned your head to the side, staring at the dark grass beneath your feet as you exhaled deeply.

Your party had set up camp nearby since the river was a good source of food and fresh water. Now, everyone lay asleep in their tents. You had tried to sleep, feeling it tear at your eyelids mockingly, yet your body had never allowed you to drift off, keeping you awake for reasons you could not fathom. After what felt like hours, you gave up and decided to seek solace by the water. It often calmed you when you were nervous or sad, but tonight was different. 

“Did you want to go fishing? I fear it might be too late in the night for that,” a voice behind you said, causing you to tense. You turned to find Astarion, an amused smile on his face. You averted your gaze, wrapping your arms around your upper body.

Astarion clicked his tongue and took a step toward you. “Silence? Come on, darling, you’re more interesting than that.” 

“I’m in no mood, Astarion,” you said hesitantly, hoping your words wouldn't anger him. Before he could respond, you turned on your heel and brushed past him, leaving the riverbank. Perhaps some fresh air would help you fall asleep easier now.

"Hey, wait," he said, his voice more serious than before. When you didn't stop, he continued, "(y/n). Please."

Your steps faltered, and you breathed out, turning your head in his direction. Astarion stared back at you, letting the silence between you stretch for an awkward moment as you looked at him expectantly. Mentally exhausted, you didn't attempt to initiate conversation, keeping silent until he spoke again.

"I didn't want you to feel like you have to leave," he said, any hint of teasing playfulness from earlier vanishing from his voice. A firefly circled behind him, and you kept your eyes locked on it until it flew away, meeting his gaze only when it did.

"It's okay," you replied with a raspy, quiet voice and a dry throat. A shiver ran down your spine as a breeze enveloped you both, too cool for your simple garments. The nights were getting colder, a sign that you were moving further north.

"You do this a lot, you know," Astarion remarked as he lowered himself to a fallen-over tree trunk, sitting down and observing you. You furrowed your eyebrows as you studied him, arms crossed in front of your chest.

"Do what?" you asked.

He made a gesture in the air that pointed to you from head to toe, an elegant twirl of his fingers. Yet, his serious gaze remained fixed on you. "It's like you fall into this void sometimes. Your eyes become empty, and your face paler." He paused, seemingly trying to find ways to put it into words. "It seems as though you stop feeling for a moment."

You swallowed, blinking away the threatening tears as you noticed him pat the empty spot next to him. His eyes found yours again, pleading. Once, you had thought his red irises to be menacing and fearful, but now you realized that after spending all this time with him, having him save your life again and again, you found comfort in them. It calmed you to look at him, the way his gaze softened when his eyes landed on you, no matter what kind of enemy you were fighting. The way he had made you feel safe when you kissed first, and you had done the same for him.

Still, you hesitated, before you sat down next to him, resting your hands in your lap as you stared out at the water. You hadn’t shown him your vulnerable sides yet, and today was one of those nights where everything weighed heavily upon your shoulders. You watched as dragonflies created small waves when they touched the surface, distorting the image of the moon further. Pressing your lips together in a fine line, you dropped your head.

"I know what it's like to feel like you're not enough, you know," he whispered, his gaze settling on the faraway trees behind the river. Their crowns blended into a large, dark wall of leaves that occasionally rustled in the wind. You did not look up but listened intently.

"You try to fill these gaps by giving to others what you wish you could receive yourself," he said, not in an accusatory tone but a calm, observing one. There was resonance in his voice, too. You dug your fingers into the hard bark of the trunk you were sitting on, your breathing becoming more shallow as you continued fighting tears. A hand on your shoulder made you tense.

You turned to look at Astarion, his gaze soft as he observed you with empathy. It was a side of him you didn't see often. Your hand pressed against your chest, where your heart was located. It was as if it was physically aching, causing your upper body to cower in defeat.

"I sometimes feel like no matter what I do, it's never enough," you said through sobs, not caring about the tears falling from your cheeks anymore. "I can't make anyone happy, and everyone leaves me. It's like I'm cursed."

Raising your arm to wipe your tears, your sleeve fell, revealing several thin lines of elevated skin on your forearm. They differed in color from your regular skin tone. Some were old, almost faded, while others still had dry blood on them.

His jaw tensed as his eyes locked on the scars, his hand reaching for yours. "(y/n)," he said in a low voice, placing a hand on your cheek to turn your head towards him, capturing your eyes with his. 

"You are possibly the most remarkable person I have ever met. You have a kind heart, the kindest I know. Those who do not recognize your worth do not deserve to stay in your life. You give so much of yourself to others, but don't forget that you need some gentleness yourself. You—" His voice broke for a second, and he averted his gaze as he seemingly looked for the right words. Then, he looked at you again, his eyes determined. 

"You are the hero I always wished for. My only regret is that the Gods have kept you from me for so long."

You sniffled, cupping his cheek for a moment before pulling him into a tight hug, burying your face in his neck. You inhaled his scent and felt his protective arms around you. He was not ready to let you go.

"I will not leave you, (y/n)," he said, as if to underline your thoughts. "Loving others is always easier than loving oneself. Perhaps we can teach each other how to do the latter."

You hugged him more tightly, enjoying the moment for a second before pulling away to meet his eyes; they were filled with worry. Lips curling up into a soft smile, you stroked his cheek gently, nodding at him.

"Yes," you said finally, your voice hoarse from having cried and barely talked, yet your words were not any less significant. "Yes, I believe we can." Your hand brushed over his back, feeling his own scars beneath the thin fabric of his tunic. He had shown you them before, and opened up to you about their origin. You had been there for him then, much like he was there for you now.

The night continued, and you and Astarion sat by the river, holding each other. The silence that followed was comfortable, despite both of your scars lying bare. The moon hung low, still casting reflections on the water as the rustle of the leaves whispered to you. Astarion held you tightly, and you finally felt safe enough to close your eyes and lean your head on his shoulder. Sleep took you soon after, and your spirit finally seemed at ease, even if just for tonight. 

[writingjourney]

I DONT REMEMBER IF I SUBMITTED THIS ALREADY BUT LIKE-

Copia cuddles!!! I need them!!! I need to smoosh my face into his silly chest I need to wrap my arms around him and nap!!!!

I'm sorry I took so long to reply. You're so right anon, I know for sure that this would fix me. I need to shove my face into his tiddies and sleep for a whole day 😭

// anyway, here's a short blurb, content: just under 500 words, gn!reader, napping in his office after he (literally) caught you falling asleep at his desk ♡

He tries to keep his hand as steady as possible. Your head weighs heavy on his wrist but this is still better than if it met the hard walnut tabletop in front of you. Copia barely caught it, your drooping face, and he’d reached out before he could think too much about it. Now he sits at the most awkward angle, bent into your direction with his gloved hand floating in midair between your cheek and his desk. 

You’re drooling into his palm, neck bent in a way that promises a painful cramp any minute now. A decision has to be made if he wants to use his hand again. He could finish his reading with you napping on him – his desk chair is spacious enough – but he has to get you into a safe position in his lap first. 

When he starts pulling his hand in the direction of his chest, you snore into the quiet of his office and he startles so violently that he almost drops your head. It’s quite impressive how deeply you have fallen asleep within such a short time frame but then again he knows you’ve been working harder than is healthy, short nights and long days sacrificed to the very translation he is reading for approval right now. And you did such a good job with it.

Copia hooks his other arm around your waist, securing you with his hand safely spread over your belly. Then he pulls, trying to drag you over, and for a moment he thinks his spine might snap. This is not the angle he should lift you in but his choices are limited. With a deep inhale he heaves you into his lap, exerting all the strength he can conjure into his lanky arms. He huffs out the deep breath he took once you settle, falling slack against his upper body. If this won’t convince you to finally get some rest and take a break then it will be a Papal order next.

A sigh tickles his neck then and for a moment he thinks you wake. But instead you burrow deep into his chest, nuzzling for a moment before you release another snore. The angle is still awkward and he pulls you upwards until your cheek rests safely atop his shoulder. Your legs are swung over his and he repositions you until you’re secure within the confines of his desk chair, feet dangling over the armrest. 

Only when Copia feels your even exhales tickling his neck does he pick up the translation again. But as he tries to regain his focus, his gaze is weary and he can’t quite read the words. Your sleepiness seems catching and with your soft body atop his like the world’s most precious weighted blanket, he finds it easy to give into temptation. Perhaps he can rest his eyes for a moment as well, just a few minutes.

BTW if you like this sort of fluffy thing, you should check out @ramblingoak ‘s little nap series here and here for similar nappy vibes :) ♡

[merrygay]

The Ghoul's dilemma

Cooper Howard x Vault Dweller! Reader

Warning : NSFW, Dark Themes, reference to cannibalism, afab reader. English is not my first language. I’m bad at writing synopsis. I’m bad at writing in general in fact.

Synopsis : Kill you, claim you or ruin you ? hard to choose.

He looks at your eyes, then your lips, he seems lost in his own thoughts, it wasn't like him to be so troubled, but now the infamous ghoul is fighting with his inner self.

Part of him wants to take you, claim you as his own, forever more, until the pit of hell swallows him whole if it still hadn’t already. 

He was a walking sin, a rotten old man with nothing but impure thoughts along side you, oblivious to everything despite your efforts to adapt to this world ending in failure. 

He could just kill you and be done with all this torment, he could just be the reason for your awaiting death, because it has to be, you should have died a long time ago, you weren’t fit to this world and he wasn’t fit for you.

But despite all of this he decides to spare your life, a selfish decision on his part, but surely you don’t mind do you now ? You don’t really have a choice considering your high percentage of chance being dead out there in the wasteland if you were alone.  

After letting you live, he thought he would sell you to the organ harvester. At least you would be useful to him, he told himself, denying the fact that the only reason he spared your life was because of how possessive he had slowly become of you.

Cooper thinks he has the upper hand, after all, the ghoul holds your life in his palm, but in reality you have him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it. 

He’s still a grumpy old man who’s too proud to admit his obsession infatuation towards you.

And then there’s one night

You pressed your body against him so suddenly, your shirt rode up just enough to reveal the beginning of your breasts, which made him freeze not expecting your sudden movement, you were usually too scared of him to even approach him on a daily basis.  

"I thought I told ya to keep your damn space," he grumbled. But his words trailed off as he noticed your sleeping form, completely unaware. His eyes lingered on your body, frustrated by the shirt that did nothing to help his resolve. Your intoxicating scent was almost too much for him to bear. 

200 years old, he had outlived practically every person he had known, yet he couldn't even keep himself in check because of some naive girl. He cursed himself.

But oh no no, you are not just any naive girl, are you? After all, he had met and killed tons of stupid women, but you? He can't quite pinpoint why he wants needs you. Perhaps it's a primal instinct that keeps growing as you stay beside him. Maybe it’s because he wants to eat you? Was that it? Yes Maybe it is his growing hunger for you.

With just one easy movement, he could easily be on top of you, roaming his hands all over your body, unsullied by the radiation or anything for that matter, just a perfect doll to play with. 

He could just ruin you. Bite you, lick you, taste that delicious body while being inside of you. Taking all the innocence that is left for his own sexual pleasure. Never stopping, pumping you full of his cock. He would be nice enough to wipe away your tears as you can’t help but whimper and moan. 

“Fuck.., yeah I know shh i know darling’, i'm a bad man i’m bad bad man” he would grunt while he spreads your legs wider to give him more access.

“S-sir ?” you say nervously. You were fully awake by now realizing the mistake you made, you rapidly moved away from him. 

Your voice brought him back to reality, he didn’t realize he was fixing you all along. 

“I'm sorry i didn’t do it on purpose” you gulped. He was silent for a second before readjusting his hat while turning his back to you.

“Git back to sleep, ain’t haulin’ ya sleepy ass tomorrow”

He felt his pants tighten, which only fueled his annoyance. He would deal with it later, once you fell back asleep, succumbing to the very same fantasy.

The ghoul had a huge ego, too confident, but right now he was desperate, and you made him like this. 

[scorpioriesling]

Guilty as Sin? (pt. 2)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Azriel x reader

Warnings: not as angsty as the first one, some Lucien x reader mentioned as they did discover they were mates in part 1

Summary: The day has finally come, and Y/N has made a choice. It turns out, you do know what you want, and how to go for it. Decisions can be hard, but... if you're willing to do what it takes to get what you desire...

SR’s Note: This is part 2 to Guilty as Sin? I would definitely read part 1 first so you have context. I hate leaving things on a low note, and part 2 was requested! So, here are solutions to both. Don't hate me. Lol. Tags: @deeshag @lilah-asteria @peachcontour-blog @going-through-shit @fxckmiup @sidthedollface2

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

"And the flowers have been placed?"

"Yes ma'am."

"And, what of the seating chart? All of the name cards are on the actual chairs, are they not? I can't have anyone causing any chaos-"

"Y/N." Feyre lays a comforting hand on your upper arm, and you halt your rambling. She takes a deep breath in, motioning for you to do the same, and maintains eye contact as you both release it. She nods her head and gives you a comforting smile.

"We have been planning this ceremony for over a year now, dear -- I promise, everything is as you have asked. I wouldn't allow for any less." She says. You nod, you know she is telling the truth. As one of your closest friends, she's helped you plan your mating ceremony down to the most minute of details. Having gone through all of this herself already, she was one you trusted most with something so special and so important.

"Feyre, I can't thank you enough." You say, pulling her close for a hug.

"No need for gratitude -- I am happy to help," she says. When you pull away, you see tears gathering in her waterline. Stinging begins behind your eyes, and you look to the ceiling and laugh, her loosing a chuckle as she swipes at her lashline.

"Feyre you can't be tearing up yet -- I haven't even gone down the aisle!" You say, laughing again and steadying your breath. She smiles at you, taking your hands in hers.

"I know, I know. I just... I am so happy for you. I know you're going to be happy, and I am so proud of you for doing the best thing for yourself, and making a choice on your own that you find will geniunely bring you the most peace." She grins at you, and you return the sentiment. It had been a wild feat of mixed emotions with your best friend, Azriel, when you'd found out he had a mate. The two of you were inseparable; best friends for years; you didn't understand why he'd ever want anyone other than you. You could only thank the Cauldron for bringing him back to you, for leading him back to talk things out, and find a just solution for this huge problem that only you seemed to be the one noticing.

Feyre hugged you one last time, and pulled back to fix a few loose strands of hair framing your face. She shook her head slowly, a small smile still gracing her face.

"Whattt?" You whined, and she chuckled, stepping back to fluff out the long white tulle train flowing behind you.

"Nothing! I just... I can't believe two people I am so close with have been brought together in such a way like this." She says, standing and facing you once more. "And, you look beautiful. He's going not going to know what to do with himself when he sees-"

"Ohhh hush, now," You say, a giggle erupting from her throat. She stills when a soft, whimsical melody begins, and her round eyes focus on you.

She looses a breath, taking a hand in yours. You can't help but feel a little nervous; it was your mating ceremony, after all. "Are you ready to do this?" She asks. You let out a calming breath, and give her a solid nod of your chin.

"Absolutely."

Feyre's reassuring hand never leaves yours as you approach the end of the aisle; the warm, late-afternoon sun illuminating every crystal and glimmer embedded into your gown. You round the corner, and step into view as all of the attendees at your private ceremony rise in unison. Your eyes meet your awaiting betrothed's; and Feyre was right, he looks as though he has no idea what to do with himself. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, and you can't help but chuckle, silently praising Feyre for persuading you do choose this mermaid gown instead of the one that made you "look like a cupcake".

"I told ya," she whispers, and you chuckle, pulling her close as she continues to lead you past the rows of your closest friends and family. Cassian's eyes meet yours, giving you one of the biggest golden-retriever smiles as he tries to hold back his tears. The sight of it alone has your eyes burning again, the love your found family is always ready to offer you. You pass Nesta, who smiles at you politely, and Rhysand, holding little Nyx who is not crying, but staring wide-eyed at you. You offer him a little wave, and he grins at you, and you realize you've finally made it to the first row of chairs. Your awaiting husband stretches his hand out to you, hands you've come to know oh-so well; hands that have gently traced circles on your back, brushed yours and sent sparks through you many a time. Your eyes meet his and Feyre kisses your cheek softly, letting go of your arm and returning to her empty chair next to Rhys. You slide your fingers into his awaiting palm, and he all but pulls you into him right then and there. You face him, admiring his beauty as he grinned boyishly at you, his thumbs running over your knuckles as he held your hands in his. He leaned in close, pressing a small kiss to your cheek.

"You look... breathtaking." He whispers against your ear. You giggle, his breath tickling your skin and he pulls back to oogle at you once more.

"HEY, THAT'S CHEATING!" Cassian's voice bellows from a few rows back, and the crowd erupts with small laughs. You can't help but chuckle as well, meeting your fiance's eyes and sharing the sentiment. The only one not finding it hilarious is Nesta, who swats his shoulder and mouths you an I'm Sorry. You meet her eyes in the crowd, waving a hand in an It's Okay motion. As your eyes sweep back toward the front, you meet Elain's gaze in the front row. She offers you a kind nod, and you reciprocate the sentiment. It feels as if everything that had happened, all of the upset and hurt feelings over the initial bond her and Azriel had; it was all ancient history now. Especially now. You catch sight of the male to her right, those familiar fiery, golden-red locks so hard to miss. He offers you a charming grin, and you understand so, so well why everyone is so attracted to the Vanserra's; they practically exude charm. It isn't until you look to Elain's left that your heart warms, just a little. You meet the familiar stare that you'd come to know so well, and cared for so deeply, now looking back at you from the front row with nothing but joy across his face for the journey he knew you'd chosen to embark on.

Your attention is turned back to your fiance when Gwyn begins her speech, standing behind the two of you under the archway of blossoming Marigolds; courtesy of the season, of course. Just like Feyre promised.

"We've come together this lovely Autumn afternoon, to celebrate the mating ceremony of Lucien Vanserra and Y/N..."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Your face was beginning to strain from how long you'd spent smiling. It didn't take long for Lucien to notice -- it didn't take long for Lucien to ever notice anything was amiss with you -- as he pulled you close and tenderly grazed his fingers over your cheek.

"What is wrong, my love?" He asks. You sigh, peering up into his amber and golden eyes. The frown you'd had fades in an instant, as you find it hard to be in any kind of foul mood around Lucien. Around your mate.

"Well... if you just... keep doing that..." You nuzzle into his touch, and he smirks down at you, his other hand reaching around to lightly scratch the back of your scalp. You let out a soft moan, and he chuckles.

"I can see it's working then," he states. You nod, eyes fluttering closed.

"You always know just..." You move close, wrapping your arms around his slim torso. "Just what I need, Lucie." He retreats his fingers after a few moments, and you open your eyes to meet his gaze once more. He leans down to press a kiss to your lips once more, this one just as warm and loving as the one offerred in front of everyone at the end of the aisle hours before. You'd danced, ate, drank, and celebrated for the better part of the night, but as the moon rose higher and higher in the sky, you began to feel more inclined to retreating back to your shared flat and spending the rest of your night beside your mate.

"That's because I'm just-" He took one hand in yours, twirling you around once before pulling you close to him again. "...So, so in love with you my dear." You can't help but giggle at his cheesiness.

"Ughhhh, man, you guys really need a room or something," Eris' playfully dramatic tone draws closer, and you turn to face him. He approaches you with a smile, offerring a hand to his brother. He pulls him close, patting a hand on his back and hugging him tight. You can't help the wave of emotion that washes over you; in the time you spend getting to know your mate, falling in love with your mate, you'd learned so much that haunted him -- but one of those things would not be his oldest brother, not anymore. You couldn't help the joy you felt knowing how happy it made Lucien to finally have that relationship rekindled with his closest sibling.

When they pulled apart, Eris took your hand gentle hand in his, kissing the top lightly and looking between the two of you.

"Seriously, though, congradulations. Truly, I am happy for you brother." You glance at Lucien, heart swelling to see the happiness in his eyes. "Y/N, I couldn't be happier to welcome you to the family." He offers you a small bow, and you smile in response.

"Thank you for coming today, Eris -- I know it means a lot to Lucien, and I was happy you could make it." Eris chuckles, turning to head out.

"I wouldn't have missed it!"

You peer at your husband once more, only to see him already looking to you. His expression softens when he notices your watery gaze.

"Heyy, hey hey, love bug. Whatever is the matter?" He asks. You smile at him, wishing you could put it all into words so simply, but you just... couldn't.

"Am I allowed to cry?" You ask. "I'm just... I'm so happy Lucien. Today couldn't have gone any better, were officially mated... I truly couldn't have it any better." You say. Lucien pulls you in, kissing the top of your head. When you've collected yourself, you both decide to mingle for a bit longer before retiring to your flat. Lucien had found Jurian and is laughing heartily over something, when you feel shadows lingering close by.

"You really are in love, are you Y/N?" Azriel's question comes from your left, and you tilt your head to see him. He sips from a crystal glass full of amber liquid, and you sigh, gazing back toward the only male you deemed truly perfect.

"Yes... I think I truly, truly am." You say. Azriel throws his head back, draining the glass and setting it on a nearby table. You glance around for Elain, figuring she would still be here if he was, but there was no sign of her.

"I'm so happy for you, ya know." He says quietly, gazing sidelong at you through his thick lashes. You offer him a knowing smile, rolling your eyes. Your best friend's relationship with you wasn't usually so sentimental like this, but it was a welcome change.

"Yeahhhh, yeah." You waved a dismissive hand, but Azriel's scarred fingers caught it midair and held firm.

"I'm serious, Y/N -- you're my best friend. You mean a lot to me. Your happiness, means a lot to me." He gazed into your eyes solemnly, and you dropped your eyes to where the two of you touched. His forearm still bore the black ink you'd once stanciled on him, looking almlost as fresh as the day he'd had it imprinted there. You thought after his ceremony those years ago he would have gotten it removed; but, he promised he wouldn't. He didn't care that he had a mate, "I still have a best friend too", he'd told you.

"Well," you began, unlacing your fingers from his as his gaze held on your eyes. Never would you have thought you'd pull away from him; but that was before. That was before the Cauldron had blessed you with such a perfect mate. A perfect male you didn't think you'd ever deserve; one you didn't know you needed.

"Well..." He repeated. You only smiled at him. All of those feelings you'd had, Gods... they hurt. They hurt so bad. But, as you looked at your best friend now, all you saw was just that; your best friend. You no longer had wished for messy top lip kisses with Azriel; there was no more longing for your trysts. You could kick yourself for ever feeling that way to begin with. But that was before Lucien. That was when you were still wasting your time, denying yourself the satisfaction of getting to know your mate and instead, pining over someone who already had one.

"Well... you can consider me happy." You say, and Azriel flashes you an award winning smile. You smile back, and he pulls you into a sincere embrace.

"And you can still consider me your best friend. Of all the friendships I have, I'd still choose you and me. Because you're my best friend, Y/N," Azriel mumbles into your hair. You sigh in contentment, releasing any last small piece of you clinging to him as more than a friend. You smile to yourself, secure with your choices in who you choose to love; whether that be as a best friend, or as a mate.

"And you're mine."

*✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

[m-jelly]

Very flirty reader x Very oblivion Levi (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

Part of you could understand Levi's issue and struggle, even you had trouble sometimes with flirting. Flirting with someone was easy, but knowing when someone was flirting with you was hard. If you suffer from a lot of self-image issues it's hard to believe someone would want you, so flirting tends to go over your head.

So, as you flirted with Levi, he was receptive to your comments and touches but did not know you were doing it all because you liked him. It was becoming increasingly clear that you needed to be upfront with him. However, the issue with being upfront with your feelings was this persistent voice in your head saying he wouldn't want you.

Today was the day you were going to confess everything and hope for the best. The two of you had been talking for a bit while cosying up to each other. It made you happy that he was smiling for you and even chuckled a bit, but it didn't seem like he knew you were flirting with him.

You lightly touched his upper arm. "Impressive muscle here."

He looked at his arm. "Really? Thanks."

You purred. "Perfect to throw me around with."

He tilted his head. "Yeah, well that's if you wanted to wrestle and spar."

You stared at him for a beat before speaking. "You have the most beautiful eyes. I could stare into your eyes all day long."

He smiled. "Thanks, but it'd be hard for you to do things if you stared at me all the time."

You released a long sigh. "I guess so."

His perfect brows furrowed. "Something wrong?"

You leaned your cheek on your hand. "I dunno, could you fix it all with your magic touch?"

He lifted his hand and looked at them as if he'd never seen them before. "Magic touch..." Something clicked in his head. "Ah!" He reached over and petted your head. "There, there."

You reached up and grabbed his hand from your head. For a while, you just stared at it and played with his soft and warm hand. "Mm...you have lovely hands." You rubbed his hand against your cheek. "Perfect to feel against you."

"Really? I didn't think I had nice hands. Huh."

You gazed at Levi. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. You can ask me anything."

You released a long sigh. "I've been flirting with you this whole time. Now, my flirting isn't playful. I mean my flirting because I have feelings for you. I want to be in a relationship with you." You felt your cheeks heat up. "Now, I don't know if your reaction is because you don't feel the same way, or you don't even know I'm flirting. So...which one is it?"

As you sat there and gazed at Levi you saw him slowly process your words and then a deep blush consumed his plump cheeks. A sparkle entered his eyes as a cute smile grazed his lips. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand and turned his head away. A tiny adorable whine came from him.

You leaned a little and gazed at his handsome face. "Levi?" You flinched when he put his head in his hands. "Ah...it was the bad one? Should I leave? I've made things awkward, haven't I?" You rose to your feet. "I'm so sorry."

Levi quickly grasped your wrist. "W-Wait."

You paused. "Okay."

"L-Let me...let...ah...I have...f-feelings and uh...I ne-need to p-put them into words."

"Okay."

He shot up to his feet and then yanked you against his body. He hugged you tightly with his alluring hands gripping your back. "I didn't know you were flirting. I'm oblivious to it, I'm sorry." He nuzzled against you. "I have feelings for you, very deep feelings which is why I blushed so much and I'm finding it hard to look at you." He whined a bit. "You fluster me because you're so cute, sweet and perfect." He sighed. "I just want to hold you and kiss you all the time. Every time you've touched me I've felt butterflies." He pulled back a bit and gazed deep into your eyes. "You really meant everything you said? Do you really like me?"

You nodded. "More than anything."

He went to kiss you but ended up banging his nose against yours. "Ah s-sorry, I g-got excited."

You giggled at how cute he was. "Tilted your head a little."

"Y-yes."

As soon as he tilted you leaned closer and kissed him with a happy hum. You mewled in delight when Levi squeezed your body and leaned into the kiss. The two of you moaned and hummed in delight as you kept kissing over and over. All the worries about feelings washed away because the kiss was passionate and felt like the two of you were connecting.

It was clear the two of you were going to grow old together.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a

@youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn

@bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza

@hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously

[ticklygiggles]

Definitely not a sleepover | Uenoyama, Hiiragi & Shizusumi

A/N: Second to last fic commissioned by Max (@wertzunge)! Thank you so much for your patience and support Max! I hope you enjoy this one! Thank you for inspiring me to finish Given hehe. I hope they're not too ooc!

Summary: He could have been spending the night with Mafuyu, but why was Uenoyama stuck with these two?!

Words: 1k+

Uenoyama couldn't believe that he really swallowed every word Hiiragi said to convince him to spend the night at his house.

“It's going to be a very special night training, Ue! You cannot, by all means, miss it. Otherwise you'll be a trashy guitarist.” 

Special night training my ass! Uenoyama thought as he found himself in front of the tv in Hiiragi's room. He wasn't quite sure when it happened, but when he realized, Hiiragi had put on a musical and the three of them had gathered under the kotatsu, a large bowl of popcorn in the middle of the table. Not even twenty minutes into the movie, huge tears were already streaming down Hiiragi’s cheeks and he wiped the snot off his upper lip with the sleeve of his sweater. 

On the other hand… Shizusumi next to Hiiragi watched the movie with disinterest, Uenoyama thought even boredom, while he stuffed his mouth with popcorn, his cheeks puffing out like a squirrel's, and when he had swallowed the bite, he gobbled down a chocolate bar or a bag of chips. 

This was ridiculous! When was that stupid training going to start?! Of course never! Uenoyama had been fooled! Feeling like the vein in his forehead was about to burst with every sniffle he heard from Hiiragi, Uenoyama stood up, grabbing his jacket. 

“Since I see you two are very busy with your special training or whatever, I'm leaving!” 

“Huh?!”

Tch! To think he had to give up the chance to have a sleepover with Mafuyu just because of Hiiragi's silly games. He's so infuriating! 

“I don't have the time to waste it with you. I have things to do and- ack!”

Something closed around his ankle and prevented him from taking another step; Uenoyama fell face first against the wooden floor and gasped as he felt a pillow saving him from a blow that could have possibly killed him. Face flushed with anger, he turned around and saw Hiiragi gripping his ankle tightly. He opened his mouth to shout something, but instead of a scream, almost hysterical laughter came out as he felt fingers wiggling underneath his socked toes. 

Hiiragi was tickling him?! 

“What- AHAHA! S-Stohop! What ahare you d-dohoing?!” Uenoyama tried to wriggle his foot out of Hiiragi's grip, but it seemed like he had an iron shackle around his ankle. Hiiragi skittered his fingers up and down Uenoyama’s sole, tickling the ball, the arch, the heel and under and between his toes. 

Uenoyama had always been a ticklish person, his sister had made sure to remind him about that during most of his childhood, but as they started to grow up, the one sided tickle fights had stopped and Uenoyama barely got tickled after that, but it seemed that no matter how much time could pass, he would always be a ticklish. 

���You cannot go, Ue,” Hiiragi said with a mischievous grin on his face as Uenoyama squirmed and banged his fists against the floor. “This is actually a special training for you! We decided to teach you how to smile more, otherwise, you see, Mafuyu will stop loving you, right, Shizu-chan?” 

“Mhmm,” Shizusumi hummed uninterested, his eyes still fixed on the tv and his mouth full of popcorn. 

Uenoyama growled, “YOU-! He w-wohon’t- ack!” He squealed embarrassingly loud when he felt Hiiragi’s fingers climbing up his leg, his thumbs pressing against the back of his knees and rubbing at the muscles, making Uenoyama cackle.

“Look at that, Shizu-chan! Uenoyama really can laugh! I thought it was impossible!” 

“S-Stohop tickling mehe!” Ritsuka thought he never hated being ticklish that much until that moment.

A deep blush was spreading across his cheeks and no matter how hard he tried to stop laughing, the cackles would easily escape from between his lips as Hiiragi scribbled at the back of his knees. Uenoyama didn't even know he was ticklish there, which added more to his embarrassment. He made sure to write down the spot on his mental list of embarrassingly ticklish spots on his body. 

“H-Hiirahahagi, you b-better s-stop or ehehelse- ahaha! N-Not there! Nohohot there!”

Hiiragi's nimble fingers found his ribs next and Uenoyama laughter not only increased in volume, but it also became more frantic and panicky, making his laugh sound high pitched. 

“You're doing very well, Ue!” Hiiragi said, chuckling mischievously to himself. “At this rate, Mafuyu will not hate you anymore!” 

Uenoyama growled again. Since when did Mafuyu hate him?! Gathering all the strength he could, he was able to lift himself a little and throw Hiiragi off him. The other boy fell on his back and whined before suddenly startled laughter poured out of him. 

“AHAHAHA! N-Noho! I'm s-sohorry! I'm sorry! Sh-Shihizu-chahan! Hehelp!” 

Uenoyama laughed evilly, in the heat of the moment, he even straddled Hiiragi's waist, his fingers going to town all over his torso, jumping from his ribs to his tummy and then to his sides and even under his arms. Hiiragi looked almost childish, his cheeks were pink and his mouth was stretched out into a bright, happy smile. 

He can smile like that, huh? Uenoyama thought, perhaps a bit too distracted to notice Hiiragi's fingers coming closer and closer to his ribs until it was too late and he found himself cackling again as Hiiragi pushed him off and pinned him.

“You want to play, huh? Let's see if you- AHAHAHA!” 

Uenoyama wasn't sure how, but this whole situation had become a war. In one moment he had the upper hand, tickling Hiiragi until he was shrieking, but at the next, he was the one squealing and laughing his head off. Some other times it was the two of them filling the tiny room with hysterical peals of laughter as they both squeezed the other's sides or ribs. 

But, Uenoyama had to admit it, he was simply too ticklish, and Hiiragi had found that rib that always made him see stars. He thought he was going to die laughing. It was such a shame he didn't get to say goodbye to Mafuyu and his family. What an embarrassing thing it would say in his epitaph: 'Beloved son, brother and boyfriend. Died from a tickle attack.' That was a bit- 

“Ack! Sh-Shizu-chan?! I was getting Ue, why- ack! Aaag! Nohoho! STOHOP!”

Uenoyama was too busy trying to stop the giggles still pouring out and catching his breath to notice that Hiiragi was currently suffering an attack just as intense as the one he was subjected to. When he finally could sit up, he saw Shizusumi pinning Hiiragi's arms under his knees, his hands lost inside the short sleeves of Hiiragi's shirt, his fingers digging into his armpits. 

Poor Hiiragi was pink in the face, laughing hysterically and kicking his legs like a mad man. Uenoyama almost felt bad for him, but he deserved it for being so annoying. Shizusumi had probably had enough of his noise and silly games, but Uenoyama jumped in fright when Shizusumi turned to look at him with some kind of smirk on his lips. 

“Hiiragi was too mean right now, wasn't he, Uenoyama?” 

He looked so scary!

“U-Uh… yes.”

“I wasn't! I wahahasn’t, plehease!” 

“Why don't you come here and help me get him back, hmm?” Shizusumi invited him, his fingers not stopping for even a second. “If you're brave enough, you can tickle his hips, he's very ticklish there as well.” 

Hiiragi begged not to and that was enough to convince Uenoyama. The guitarist smirked and sat over Hiiragi's legs, his hands latching to the other's hips, pinching and squeezing until Hiiragi was in hysterics. His laughter was kind of nice, just like his singing voice. Uenoyama thought that Shizusumi and him were making him sing in some kind of way and that made him chuckle softly.

“You can also try his stomach. Right in the center, yes. You can vibrate your fingers- yes, just like that.”

“Sh-Shizu-chaHAN! D-dohon't be m-mehean! I'm dyiHIHIng!” 

“Behind his ribs as well.”

“Shizuhuhusumi!” 

Hiiragi was tickled until no laughter came out and Uenoyama got worried his voice would get damaged from laughing so much and so hard, but Shizusumi reassured him, saying that he usually tickled him like that and he could sing perfectly well afterwards. Uenoyama was not surprised at all, that sounded very ‘Hiiragi’, after all. 

He watched the poor vocalist sprawled against the floor, breathing heavily with his arms still above his head, although Shizusumi wasn't holding him down anymore. He was just slightly sweaty, and blushing to his ears, but overall looked fine and the smile on his face just refused to disappear. Uenoyama could feel his own lips curling into a little smile as well, but he stubbornly tried to hide it. 

“Hey, Ue,” Hiiragi called him, still laying on his back, a bit breathless. “What about I show you where exactly Mafuyu's most ticklish spot is?” Uenoyama perked at that and he nodded. Hiiragi smirked. “Hehe, I'll even teach you how to tickle him right, and our kind Shizu-chan will help us.”

Uenoyama looked at Shizumi, confused. The drummer was staring daggers at Hiiragi and Hiiragi was smirking at him. 

“Because, you see, Mafuyu and Shizu-chan here share tickle spots.” 

At that, Shizusumi got up at once, startling Uenoyama. He was ready to run out of the room, but Hiiragi caught him before he did so, and made him fall face first just like he did to Uenoyama. He was quick to straddle him and Uenoyama was surprised when he heard Shizusumi’s laughter. High-pitched nothing like his usual voice, but still a bit too deep to sound scary.

“C'mon, Ue! You'll definitely make Mafuyu the happiest if you know these secrets I want to tell you!” 

Uenoyama blinked, seeing the scene before him and wondering what the hell was happening, but it didn't really matter. He smiled and nodded, holding Shizusumi's arms as Hiiragi told him all about how to tickle Mafuyu in that spot that was making Shizusumi lose his head. 

He definitely was not expecting this evening to go like this– after all he was there for a special course or whatever… but he couldn't lie and say he wasn't having fun. Well, a sleepover with Hiiragi and Shizusumi wasn't too bad after all!

[oneshotnewbie]

Fight Falls - Part II

Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the topic of a car accident and the plot is presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

You groaned in agony, dizziness unfolding as your eyes fluttered open troubled, surveying your surroundings. To all appearances, you were in a hospital room, at least that was what the strong smell of disinfectant told you from the bed you were laying in.

Your attention extended to the woman who had nodded off in the chair next to you. The blonde had her feet on the edge of the bed while her head gently rested on her closed fist. Your breath caught at the sight of the devastated face. Dry, pale lines of tears outlined the dark circles under closed and tired eyes. The sight made the heart monitor you were hooked to go horribly crazy.

"Y/n?" she was slightly dazed and confused when her eyes opened and focused on you. It was only when she squeezed your hand that you realized she was holding onto you like you were about to disappear.

"M-maya" your voice trailed off as you tried to raise your body into a sitting position. You warmly accepted your wife´s help as she slipped her arms softly under your armpits and carefully pulled you up. Maya quickly stroked your matt and dry hair before taking a glass of water from your side table.

The firefighter held it up to your lips, patiently waiting as you took your first sip, enjoying the cool water sliding down your dry and burning throat. Nodding to her, she took the glass away from you before sitting down and fidgeting with her fingers nervously. Her head was lowered, only soft whimpers and sobs escaped her.

"Four days," she began to speak softly, her voice shaking with tension. "You were unconscious for four days. Apparently, you hit your head very hard"

"That would explain the killer headache," you mumbled and the blonde smiled slightly as you grimaced while running your palm down the back of your neck. "What happened?"

"Someone figured it would be a good idea to hit the gas pedal quickly to get through a red light," she shrugged, biting the insides of her cheek hard. Her clear blue eyes darkened and pure anger flared up in them. "Was not smart of him to mess with you. You have two women by your side, one of whom has free access to every room in this hospital and might be on lookout for a minute or two while he gets to feel my fists"

You had realized that Maya seemed to be barely breathing out of sheer nervousness and just talked until she ran out of breath. You slowly reached out a hand and grabbed her thigh, which you began to squeeze gently to bring her back to reality. "It is neither Carina´s nor your fault"

"You have a nasty cut on your forehead and a severe concussion" she replied in a serious tone, frowning while a fixed and intense gaze brooked no contradiction. "Our thoughtless and completely pointless argument got you in the car in the first place"

You applied renewed but significantly more pressure to the blondes thigh, causing her to grunt out as your fingernails dug into her skin.

"Okay, I give in. Not my fault!"

Satisfied with her answer, you smiled and leaned back against your pillow, covering your upper body with the thick blanket from the cold. "Please bring me Carina. Or Amelia. Or anyone responsible for me and get me out of here!"

Squinting and eye and pursing her lips, you could see that she was not happy with your wish. But she could not refuse you anything so she nodded and jumped up from her seat. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, Maya headed for the door and briefly disappeared.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you let your eyes close for a soft moment as you rode out a wave of pain that took control of your body, making you shiver. You would like to ask for painkiller immediately if your treating doctor comes in. But then Maya and also Carina would worry and insist that you would stay here for observation.

Something, you did not want at all.

"Hey Y/n," you had not even heard the door creak open through your trance as your eyes snapped open and followed the voice.

Acknowledging the well-known neurologist in front of you, you smiled at her. "Nice to see you awake again. You gave the two toughest women I know a real scare"

Amelia tapped the tablet in her hands, calling up your file before joining your bed and shining her little lamp in your eyes. The light burned like hell in them, but you tried not to let it show so as not to minimize your chances of being able to go home soon.

"They are always worried, no matter what I do"

You were impatient as she gently pulled down the thick plaster on your forehead to examine the cut for any inflammation. You hated hospitals, everything about them but most of all the atmosphere that came with them. Even though you knew everyone here and were taken care of as if you were one of them, you just could not bear to be here.

"Not always, but often enough. Because we love you" the blonde folded her arms tightly under her chest and pouted. Amelia could not help but laugh at your bickering while you rolled your eyes and immediately regretted it.

"It looks like everything is okay so far. No bleeding or other damage to your brain, though you have received a mild concussion due to the impact. I will bring you the discharge papers in a few hours. Please try to walk a few steps to get your circulation going, see if you get dizzy while standing up"

"I am fine. I can go home now," you quickly leaned forward and threw your legs over the edge of your bed. There was no way you would stay here just a minute longer. Sensing your stubbornness as she knew it from you, Maya crept back to your side. "Honey, you really should listen to Dr. Shepherd"

You slapped away your wife´s outstretched hand, and a momentary, horrible pain shot through your spine but you tried to ignore it. It was not her fault that you were here, nor that the neurologist wanted to let you walk a few steps, but she was the only one you could take your frustration out on.

"Y/n!" you stared up at the blonde, who had crowded your personal space. Along with the warm breath you could feel on your cheek, the awkward beeping pierced your ears once again. "Take it easy before you hurt yourself even more and have to stay here longer"

You were about to argue but the look on her face brushed you off. You did not have the energy for another argument so you fell back onto the bed, mimicking the blonde with your arms crossed under your chest while an annoyed frown laid across your forehead.

Your head hurt from the strain she had put on your ears, trying to understand the voices of Amelia and Maya clearer than the constant ringing while your ribs started to ache. You squinted your eyes as the soreness in your body took your whole attention before slipping close, gritting your teeth to force down a whimper that threatened to leave your lips.

Your headache worsened.

[acerathia]

Magic Shop || S. Todoroki

Summary:

After 'accidentally' getting cursed, you seek the witch of the forest to fix this problem. Only did you not expect a beautiful man to reside there...

Wordcount: 12.4k

Read on AO3

Pairing:

Witch!Todoroki Shoto / GN!Reader

Tags/CW:

witch!shoto, contractual partners to friends to lovers, pining!! lots of pining, aged-up characters, GN reader, honestly mostly vibes in the woods idk what to say, fluff, innuendos, but sfw, maybe shoto is ooc, forgive my transagression <;/3

Note:

Please note that information about witches may be inaccurate as I was only using my fantasy. And any links are safe!! Also!! This is part of the 'Haunted House Collab' by Willow's House, check out the other works!!

Your hand slaps against the surface of your ringing phone, hoping to silence it with a lucky stroke back to sleep. But that only works for a couple of minutes as it starts once again relentlessly chiming, with no way to stop it. With a groan you remember the infinite number of alarms you had set yourself the night before, your past self too aware of your strong desire to sleep overpowering your need to go to work. So you don’t have a choice, you’d like to keep your job for as long as possible, even with your current sleeping habits.

Slowly you swing your upper body up, and blink blearily, just staring into your room for a couple of seconds, just trying to force you to properly wake up. You take your phone into your hand to stop the still blaring alarm and of course every subsequent alarm after that one. You run your hands over your face, once again trying to wake yourself up before getting up. Shuffling your feet, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up. A good splash in your face does wonders against this fatigue, but only sometimes, so you hope it works today.

It actually helped a bit, your eyes stinging from the direct contact with the flying water. After finishing the rest of your routine, you go back to your room and put your work clothes on, ignoring the crinkles in them, even if your hands mindlessly try to flatten them, they will eventually disappear, hopefully. You just don’t have time nor the patience to iron them out. Nobody is going to notice them underneath a blazer. A last look in the mirror tells you that you do look presentable enough to show up at work. So you grab your necessities and hurry out of the door.

You don’t hurry because you might be late, you just like to be a bit early on the street, never sure what might delay your way, a traffic jam leading every car to link its arms with each other, making any other form of transportation nigh unusable. This especially accounts for you being stuck between arms and torsos of other people, holding for dear life on a pole in the bus, trying your best to avoid falling onto the ground with every rumbling stop.

Your stop draws near, and you’re finally able to leave the suffocating transportation can, you take a second to breathe, to collect yourself once again. The shaking of the bus has almost begun to lull you back to sleep, even if you were standing with hands in a death grip. So you slap both of your cheeks and continue your way to your workplace.

At your arrival, you think that luck must be on your side, as you still have a couple of minutes until your shift starts, enough time to calm down after all that speed walk, and simply drink some water. You put your stuff into the locker and begin your work. And you hope to keep that luck running for the rest of the morning.

But it seems that your luck is already strained thin, as you mess up some of the dates by accident, inconveniencing a visitor at their work. So you hurry up to apologize for this mistake before they can ask for your boss.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. We’ll fix this as soon as possible, so feel free to take a seat, Mrs. Nukarumi,” you offer her with a smile, not moving a muscle as her face shifts at the name-drop. You don’t realize your mistake until she steps closer, a menacing aura clogging your airways. You begin to panic, but you keep your face professional, a smile, a questioning tilt to the head.

“Listen, I can excuse some mishap at work, happens to the best of us. But getting my name wrong, and to such a distasteful degree is arrogant, especially after being quite the regular at your establishment,” she puts two fingers on your forehead, her nails pressing against your skin, and now you drop your smile for a frown, as the shadow of her hand covers your face, suffocating in a way only air can be. “It’s Nakamura, and I’d like to know how you will live your life without a soul ever recognizing you.”

Her fingers begin to feel warmer with each second, and at first, you thought it might be due to the prolonged skin contact. That is until this warmth turns into heat, her fingerprints searing themselves into your skull, your skin non-existent. Some kind of pain spreads all over your facial features, not painful enough to coax out a scream, but enough to make your muscles twitch in response. At this sensation, you try your best to pull away, but you seem to be glued to her fingertips, like she’s holding the strings of your body between her knuckles with this simple touch.

You finally manage to take a step back the moment her fingers leave your skin. She seems to be satisfied with whatever she just did, as a grin spreads over her face as she glances over your face. Mischief is coloring the outlines of her lips before she just leaves without another word, not caring if the situation is fixed any time soon.

For some reason, this is the least of your worries, as you make your way to the bathroom with quick steps in search of a mirror. But the moment you stand in front of one, you can’t see anything wrong with your face, not even a small print of her fingers on your forehead. Everything looks normal and proper to you, so you just shrug it off, keen on returning to your post behind the desk.

On the walk back to your space, you come across the manager, who gives you a weird look, and you glance down at yourself, thinking your clothes might have gotten in disarray. But there’s nothing wrong with them. You still straighten your blazer a bit, which doesn’t seem to help, as he finally comes up to you.

“Excuse me, this area is for staff only,” he tells you with a warning in his voice, and you can only furrow your eyebrows at that.

“Uh, yes, I am a staff. It’s my shift right now,” you reply, confusion tinting your voice.

“Lying is useless in this case, I don’t recognize you, and I know all of my staff.” He shakes his head in some form of disappointment before threatening to call security if you don’t clear the space immediately.

Absolutely confused, you just leave the space, and even the building altogether, just heading home, because what else are you supposed to do? You got kicked out by your boss, for some strange reason, and nothing makes sense to you.

What did he say again? He doesn’t recognize you? That’s the wildest reason to kick someone out, ever. Does he want to fire you, or is he pulling some kind of elaborate prank or scheme? You honestly don’t care, you just hope you still get paid for your work.

As you have some time to spare, for obvious reasons, you decide to take a short trip to the store to get yourself some groceries, and maybe you could chat a bit with your acquaintance there, letting a couple of minutes pass in idle talk.

So you enter the store and begin collecting whatever your heart desires, and whatever your wallet allows you, before making your way to the register, where your almost friend works. You smile and greet them, hoping to be able to listen to whatever gossip they have at the moment. But they only give you the usual customer service smile, the usual greeting voice, no recognition sparking in their eyes at all.

Your chest constricts and you try to think of what you might have done to offend them, yet nothing seems to be the problem. And you could hardly bother them while they’re working, so you leave the place without inquiring any further about any possible reason.

Trudging home, you can’t help but wonder if you had done something for all of this to happen. There’s no way this day is filled with one unlucky incident after the other. There’s no correlation for this bad luck, you started your day as you do every single day. The only weird moment was with that weird woman, who just grabbed your face for no reason. But whatever she did, it didn’t work, you checked yourself in the mirror and everything looked fine to you, normal. So why does it seem like no one can recognize you?

You enter your home as the final puzzle clicks, and everything makes sense, well barely. A gasp escapes you at this revelation, and you almost throw your groceries onto the table, grabbing for your phone. With a frown, you open the front camera, seeing yourself, with every feature you know and are used to. Maybe the effect is similar to the one with a mirror?

You decide to take a picture of yourself, not focusing much on looking good, but rather on verifying your thoughts. After you take one where you’re sure your whole face can be seen, you open the gallery to click on the newest picture. But instead of a picture, you’re faced with a blurred mess. Did your hands tremble? There’s no way they moved that much while you took the picture. Still, you take another one, and another one, and another one. And all of them turn out to be blurry.

Chewing on your bottom lip you scroll further to some of the older pictures you have on your phone and they all look normal, your face still visible and clear. So there’s only one conclusion: only the ones you took today have that particular problem, so that means the woman had actually done something unexplainable to you.

With a sigh you put your phone away, driving your hand over your face. You screwed up, you accidentally messed up with the wrong person today, and now you reap the consequences. What are you supposed to do now? How could you even undo this? You can’t go to work if no one recognizes you, and you can’t just not work! You’re ruined, your life will be in shambles over a little mistake, this is so ridiculous.

Panic is running hot through your veins and you do what every sensible human being would do in such a dire situation. You take your phone and look it up, even if you don’t know how to phrase the problem properly. So it isn’t surprising when the first couple of hits you stumble across are different subreddits and medical pages about loneliness. But no matter how far you read into those, there is just no correlation between them and your current problem.

Thus, you dive deeper and you discover some shady-looking forum, all small font and 2000s style of blogging, in which you read a rather recent post.

Does the witch in that forest actually exist? Cuz I heard rumors, but no one has shown real pics smh. If yes, how do you meet them? Like, I wanna get some potions or stuff, idk

– i guess that’s one way to touch grass – that’s some witchful thinking LMAO – ofc, u just gotta go that fb page, there’s proof

Your curiosity gets the best of you and you click on the link, which turns out to be a rickroll. You don’t know if you’re supposed to laugh or groan in frustration. The only upside of this is that you had gotten some form of lead to… something. You’re not quite sure what the whole witch thing is about, but if there’s smoke, there must be a fire. At least you hope so, because it’s the only thing that could solve your problem at the moment. You’re pretty sure the woman put some kind of curse or spell on you, there’s no other way to achieve this kind of effect.

Naturally, you’re going to look for that witch now. You have quite some free time left, so maybe there is some upside to that too…

Trying to be positive about the whole predicament, you trade your current clothes for something more robust, something suitable to endure a visit to the forest. The place mentioned in the post isn’t that far from your living place, so you plan to walk there, getting some blood running to prepare you for the worst.

With a bottle, your phone, and whatever is necessary for your trip, you leave the building. Your phone in hand, you try to discover the fastest way to these woods to avoid losing time.

Finally arriving at the entrance of the forest, you decide to take the already existing paths, leisurely walking along them. And you have to admit it has taken you some time to realize something important in your current endeavor: there’s no way a witch is going to be living on the equivalent of a main street of the forest. No one would do that if they’re actively trying to get by without notice, and witches don’t want people to know where they live. That’s like, their lore or something.

This makes sense, and you nod to yourself, convinced by your own logic before you step off the path. At first, you paid attention to where you put your foot down, careful to not destroy any plants or to get stuck somewhere. But after a while, you simply forget to look at the ground and where you’re going. As a result it shouldn’t be a big surprise when one of your feet gets caught in something, you’re not quite sure what, because the moment you topple over you immediately begin to roll down a hill.

Scrunching your face, you brace yourself for the upcoming impact, hoping sincerely you won’t get knocked against a rock or a stump, breaking something or injuring you in any other way.

Nothing happens. Slowly the rotations come to a stop and you feel your back thud against the ground one last time, even if you still feel the turbulence in your head.

After taking a couple of seconds to get your head straight, you hesitantly open your eyes, only to glance at the face of another person. And for a moment you feel like nothing is real, he’s beautiful. Soft plush lips, slightly agape in surprise, eyes widened and sparkling in the early afternoon sun, and you need to look a couple of times back to notice the different colors, gray and blue, a storm separated from its lightning. His lashes brush against his smooth skin on one side, and against a burn mark on the other, as he blinks, trying to understand what just happened.

You immediately close your eyes again, hoping to fool him into thinking you had passed out, even if he probably saw you staring at his face like a fish out of water.

A slight chuckle, air fanning over your face, tells you that he is no fool. So you have no other choice but to take a breath and to slowly sit up, avoiding looking into his eyes with all your might, even if you’re compelled to look at him just a while longer.

Instead, you start looking around and you notice that you have fallen onto the edge of a beautiful meadow, flowers sprouting all around you, colors bursting underneath the late afternoon sun. The wind dancing between the petals. The delightfulness of this place fills you in awe, and it only grows bigger when you glance back at him, seeing the perfect man sitting underneath the rays of the sun, the wind ruffling his red and white hair playfully. You think about how it feels to touch this cloud in the afternoon sun.

That is until you finally register his gaze lingering on you. Your eyes widen in surprise and you can’t look him in the face anymore, once again. Nerves get the best of you, as you realize that he must have caught you staring at him and you fiddle with your fingers before you gather some courage to talk to him.

“Uhm, sorry for that, heh… You might be wondering why I’m here, and honestly you won’t even remember me when I’m gone, which is for the best I’m not going to lie. But I still wanted to ask, and I know it’s a weird question, but honestly, my whole day has been so weird, you can’t even believe it. What I mean is, do you happen to know where maybe, just maybe, where the witch of this forest is? I kinda got into that situation and I need help…” After getting everything off your chest, you take a second to take a breather.

“Oh, yes, I know where the witch is–”

“Really? Wow, that’s cool, rad, cool, cool! Oh, do you mind telling me? That would be awesome, for real,” you interrupt him, leaning forward in an outburst of excitement, once again just staring at his face

“No, I don’t mind. It’s simple really. The witch is here,” he answers, and if you’d known it better, you could have sworn to see some mischief glinting in his eyes.

But you’re too distracted, squinting your eyes trying to see anyone else in this open meadow. The witch can’t be hiding in such an open space, so you turn around to look behind you.

You jut your lips out when you couldn’t see anyone in the near distance. “Where? There’s no one here?”

The corners of his lips raise slightly. “Well, because we’re the only two people here, the best conclusion is that I’m the witch, is it not?”

You can only nod slowly, mouth agape and eyes roaming over his figure once again. Now that he mentions it, if you focus a bit on his blue eye, the one seemingly illuminating and softening his scar, you could discern symbols circling his iris, whispering secrets only he is to know.

It takes you a moment to bring these two concepts together, as this turn of events just swept you over in a cold rush. Even if you’re going to be honest with yourself, what did you expect? Some beautiful woman with long black hair, miraculously emerging from the waters of some shallow pond? This probably is your sign to read less fantasy… Does it count as fantasy if witches are apparently real?

You blink and push this thought away, this is really not the time to contemplate the structure of your world. So you take a breath, trying to formulate your thoughts more coherently this time.

“Oh, okay. Uhm, so… hold on, no, how am I supposed to call you? Because there’s no way I’m calling you a witch for, I don’t know how long, but that doesn’t matter… Uhm,” you veer off topic before just introducing yourself in the same breath.

Wow, you did amazing, you should pat yourself on the shoulder, because how can someone start at a point and finish at the wrong place? You bite on your bottom lip, slightly crunching your face. But the moment he says your name, the strain seems to melt off, you’re so taken aback by how elegant your own name sounds from his mouth.

“Nice to meet you, I suppose you can call me Shoto.”

With a nod, you do your best to memorize his name and to replace the imaginary picture of a witch with a replication of him, sitting between the flowers, and you’re aware that your memory could never truly replicate this look, this moment; it always be something faded compared to this, and you curse your insufficient brain capacities. Until you remember the actual reason you came looking for him.

“So, Shoto. I need your help, you know, as the witch, because, uh, I don’t know if you noticed already, but I guess someone cursed me? For some reason. Unrelated to anything really…” you laugh nervously and avoid his gaze “Like no one is able to recognize me, which is weird! I look normal in mirrors, but not in pictures? And, uh, see, I kinda need my face to work, you know? Is there something you could do to help me? You’re my last resort, pretty please?” You had hurried to explain your reasons for arriving at this place before the silence between you could even start, or worse, before he got the time to just stand up and leave.

He leans back and his eyes glance over your face, examining you, and you notice how the contrast between his eyes seems to grow for a moment; one almost glowing eerily while the other darkens to reach the depth of the universe. It feels like you’re in the presence of a supernova, a star about to burst by its seams.

But the moment he blinks with a nod the moment is gone, almost like it never was any different. At least he looks like he found whatever he’s looking for, the curse probably.

“I will help you. But in exchange I do need you to aid me in the time it takes me to break this particular spell,” he sets his condition and slightly cocks his head to the side, waiting for your response.

A wide grin splits your face as he agrees to help you. excitement thrumming through your veins at the prospect of working with an actual witch, and even getting rid of this problem altogether. But you still take your time to weigh the choices in your head.

You don’t really have another choice, do you? Because if you refuse, what are you supposed to do? It’s either you help him with his potions, whatever that requires of you, you’re ready to even give your blood for this, or you just suffer for the rest of your life under this horrid curse of unrecognition. Even if you have to admit that this condition of yours could be a real killer in the shady business of the underground, assassinations, break-ins, or whatever illegal activities they entertain. No one would ever be able to catch you, as you practically have no face to be identified by. If you only possessed more usable skills to pursue this potential path of corruption, but you don’t. So you only truly have one choice left.

You readily agree to his terms, on your own condition, you want to be able to go home at the end of the day. You’d like to enjoy your sleep if you involuntarily have to miss work. With the same reasoning, you promise him to come back tomorrow before you’re already on your way home. You hadn’t noticed how late it already was, because the meeting didn’t feel like it took hours off your day. But who are you to judge the sun for packing up a bit earlier, at least it’s still bright enough for you to walk on your own. And on your trek home, you see his captivating eyes every time you blink, almost being able to feel the difference in temperature, coals and ice, hot and cold.

They haunt you, no matter how often you shake your head to get rid of them. You do have bigger problems to concentrate on. But your worries vanish once you land on your bed, all washed up and in clean clothes. The short hike seems to have taken a toll on you, or maybe the revelation of the whole situation, as you fall asleep as soon as you could even think of sleep.

The next morning you wake up all sore, and you whine into your pillow, already despising the possibility, the simple thought of getting up. Yet you sit up and grab your phone to tell your boss that you’re sick. Which technically isn’t a lie, if something does belong in that section, then it’s a curse for sure, and it’s the best option to not get kicked out again, or fired for not showing up to work.

With that you pat yourself on the back for finding a solution to that particular problem, and for giving yourself at least a week to solve this mess. If it doesn’t work out by then, you’d have to get a doctor’s notice, and you honestly doubt that a doctor can diagnose you with this if they even can recognize anything in the first place.

One problem out of the way, you go through your morning routine to head out to start solving the main problem. You put on some proper clothes for this trip, and this time you’re not keen on not tumbling down a hill, and being aware of the hill in the first place will definitely make it a lot easier.

The way to the meadow turns out to be a lot easier once you know the way, and as a consequence, you gain fewer bruises on the way down. You’re glad for that because the ones you earned yesterday throb every time they get touched, even by the barest breeze. But you will survive this horrendous pain, everything to reach your goal of getting rid of this curse.

If only everything is as easy as you wish it to be. Because the moment you arrive at the border of the meadow, you encounter another problem: Shoto isn’t here today.

You curse under your breath while glancing around the empty open space. What are you supposed to do now? You can’t just walk aimlessly and shout his name into the darkness of the woods. That would be stupid, you don’t know what lurks in its insides, and you’d like to avoid disturbing the wildlife and him, probably, if he is actually living in this forest.

Should you just take a seat in the middle of the meadow? Would he be able to see you from wherever his residence is? Once again you curse, but this time at your inability to plan forward, because you really should’ve asked for some details, but for some reason, his agreement seemed enough for you to just up and leave. Now it is obvious how you didn’t think any of this through.

With a sight, you lightly kick the ground. After you take one last look over the meadow, you decide to walk up the borders of the open space in hopes of finding some sort of hint about his possible whereabouts.

It takes you some time to come across a small river, water glistening clearly under the sun. and you decide to follow it on a whim. Honestly, this is probably the next best thing, because everyone needs some form of water, and this forest has no lake, so the river makes absolutely sense.

The flowing water leads you deeper into the woods, but you can’t actually get lost if you just follow the river in the opposite direction, so you’re not really worried about that.

This decision turns out to be the right one because after some time you spot a cottage in the near distance. Surrounded by bushes and the ivory sparkles under the rays of the sun breaking through the ceiling of leaves. As you step closer, leaving the river behind, you’re able to see the veranda filled with all different kinds of plants in pots, hanging, standing, thriving. You think you can even discern some form of garden on the other side of the building, but you decide to stop in front of the door rather than visit that small space. Who knows how a witch is able to protect their place.

Before you even think about knocking, you note how this place doesn’t look like what you expect of a lair, but honestly, you don’t have any other visual than the gingerbread house, and to be fair, that’s a fairytale and as much as Shoto looks like he came straight out of one, there’s no connection between these two. Not that it matters, you’re certainly not a kid, so you doubt he would eat you, which is unlikable in the first place.

You raise your fist to finally knock on the wood of the door, but before your knuckles could even connect with it, the door actually opens, and you make eye contact with Shoto. You slowly lower your fist and notice how he’s holding a basket in his hand, eyebrows raised in silent surprise. For a moment you both just look at each other in confused surprise until he finally starts speaking.

“Oh, good morning. I didn’t expect you to be here so early. Come in,” he steps aside to fully open the door, inviting you into his home.

With hesitation you step inside, looking around as curiosity tempts you with its soft claws. A smell of a mix of herbs wafts in front of you as you inhale. There is a small seating arrangement, a loveseat, a sofa, an armchair, all resting on top of a soft carpet, inviting you to sit on the ground and enjoy some tea or read a book.

Connected to that space is an open kitchen, to which he heads to, and you hurry to follow his lead. It takes you a moment to take your shoes off, so you can’t help but follow his path carefully, too scared to accidentally disturb this calm space of his.

His home seems rather normal, but once again, what did you expect? Some kind of massive cauldron, some random stuff hanging off the ceilings, or body parts in a mysterious liquid? You should’ve expected this, this is just a normal cottage in the depths of the forest, the only exceptional thing, or person, is Shoto, and you don’t mean him being a witch.

Once you arrive in the space of the kitchen, he motions you to sit at the table, and you do, your expectations getting the best of you and waiting for some form of grimoire to thud onto the table. But nothing of that sort happens, he just sits on the opposite side, leaning his chin in his hand and just looks at you with slightly furrowed brows and a small pout on his lips.

You try your best to stay silent, even if the urge to say something is getting stronger with the second, but you withstand his piercing gaze resting on your hot skin. You bite on your tongue to swallow your question down. Especially when his eyes begin to emit a low light once again, all stormy weather, dark clouds shrouded in lightning.

It abates the moment he hums. “I see. Well, I guess I am able to undo this spell, but we both don’t know anything about the workings of the spell, it probably will take me some time to fix the proper counterspell. For that, I need your presence. Should we get started?” He leans back, his eyes glowing under the sunlight, but this time it feels a lot softer, less like magic and more like a fairy tale.

The next thought you have is filled with indignation because he just assumed you don’t know anything about the spell. Well you don’t, but it’s about the assumption itself, not the fact that you have no idea about this craft. So you can’t really say anything in your defense, because there’s nothing to defend but your pride, and it’s not worth it at the moment.

“Sure thing, but I have to let you know: I know how that woman put this spell on me, and… uh…” you start confidently, only to peter out, not knowing how to continue this trail of thought.

Despite that, he does seem surprised by that in some way, indicated by the way his eyebrows shoot up. “Is that so? Would you mind telling me?”

You almost think to hear some sort of accusation in his tone, but you have no reason or idea why that might be. So you just shrug it off before delving into a short explanation of the events that had occurred to you, until you recount the first meeting with him. Of course, there are some details you omit, because you’d rather not embarrass yourself in front of such a graceful person, because he’s a witch, not because you think he’s so beautiful you might turn blind if you look at him for an extended period of time, that would be ridiculous. Also, telling him about your fall is just unnecessary to the plot of this story, isn’t it?

He nods, eyes telling you that he realizes the omission, but he doesn’t comment on it. At least he seems like he understands more about the situation than you, simply from the description of whatever she had done to you, from whatever you had felt.

“This does help quite a bit. Doesn’t make the process much faster, just easier. Not that it matters, I’m qualified to undo this spell either way.” He stands up and begins to open the cabinets, rummaging through their insides before pulling out a notebook and a pen.

There’s no way this is his spellbook. The place where he keeps his most secret, most important spells. It looks like any ordinary notebook from the store, and it probably is, considering how normal everything looks. Maybe he has a special way of safekeeping?

You squint and stare at the notebook, trying to discover something hidden, but the only thing you see is how Shoto is writing some stuff down, the signs clear and elegant.

Only occasionally does he look up, eyes roaming over your face without sitting still on anything in particular. You doubt he could even if he wanted to.

And now your thoughts wander to the possibility that he would actually want to look at you, how his gaze would soften when caressing your skin, the sun sparkling against his dual-colored eyes, making them glisten with adora–

No, you have to stop here, or you’re not going to survive his presence in the upcoming brewing sessions. Healing sessions… Yeah, healing sessions, because he’s healing your hurt ego, getting rid of your predicament. There’s nothing else to call them. Uncursing? Spell Deletion? No, that sounds ridiculous. Healing sessions sound like some form of therapy, and being in the forest is kind of therapeutic, well, his presence sure is. Not that the name matters, you’re never going to talk about it with anyone, ever.

You blink a couple of times to come back to reality, only to make eye contact with him and your breath hitches. You do your best to act casual and prop your elbow onto the back of the chair but you slip and you have to catch yourself with a jerk.

A nervous laugh escapes you and you lean back, crossing your arms in front of your chest to get rid of your fidgeting. You avoid looking into his eyes this time, focusing on the fringe falling onto his forehead, red and white braiding into each other seamlessly.

He doesn’t even bother to say anything about what just happened and just goes straight to business. “Here’s what we’re going to do in the next few days,” he starts explaining like you just didn’t utterly embarrass yourself in front of him. “I doubt a counterspell will work without consequences because we don’t know the exact working of your curse, even if I have a good idea of it. Still, I don’t want to risk it, so I’m simply going to brew a potion, which will wear it out until it disperses on its own. That means we have to go out and collect some necessary materials. We’re going to do that later though, as there are some preparations I have to make first.”

With that, he closes his notebook and leaves it on the table as he stands up. He motions you to follow him and you leave the house at his heels.

Outside he pulls some sort of platter from below a table and hands it to you before he kneels on the ground in front of a pot in the form of a long rectangle. Inside it is a green plant, stalks spreading out like rays of the sun, leaves tiny and feather-like.

“These are Maidenhair Ferns, also called The Hair of Venus. They could have some effect on your current condition, but we have to dry them first for their potency to unfold. I’m going to take care of the cutting of the plant and I ask you to put them neatly onto the platter. That way we can continue our work at a faster rate,” he explains, his gaze only brushing over you before leading his focus back onto the plant in front of him.

You nod, even though you’re not sure he could register this movement with the way he’s intently looking at the leaves of the ferns. You still take a seat by his side and put the big plate on your lap, ready to receive the first leaves and stems.

At first there isn’t a lot for you to do, so you’re busy looking around, taking in the sights of the forest, enjoying the sun on your face, but soon enough you start taking the stalks filled with neat leaves and arrange them properly on the plate, trying to avoid stacking them as much as possible.

Luckily, he doesn’t pick that many plants for you to even begin thinking of that possible problem too much. With a platter covered with just the right amount of leaves, he finally turns around to face you.

“We need to pluck the leaves from the stem because each part is different, and will need a different time to properly dry. We only need the leaves for the potion, but I’d hate to waste the rest,” he murmurs, his long, nimble fingers already running along the stem of one of the plants, picking the leaves off with careful fingertips, barely staining his nail beds in the process.

You proceed to take one fern in your hand, trying your best to imitate him and to rip the leaves at the right spot and not rip them apart accidentally. Sticking your tongue slightly between your teeth in concentration, you manage to not destroy the first fern, even if the process has gotten a bit messy, your fingers turning slightly green. You begin to understand why people who garden have a ‘green thumb’.

You both work in a comfortable silence for some time, simply enjoying the repetitive motion. Before you even dare to think about standing up, you both make sure that everything is properly separated and not layered. Just then you stand up and follow him around the corner to some sort of backyard. You reckon this is the place you glanced at earlier. There’s a table standing out in the open, and he motions you to put the platter you were carrying onto its surface. In that position, the sun is going to dry them for you, essentially doing the work for you.

The moment your hands are free, you get the urge to stretch into the rays of the sun, your blurry, lidded gaze glancing over the edge of the open space between the bushes. And that’s where you spot it. A beautiful deer.

With a silent gasp, you blindly try to tap Shoto on the shoulder, accidentally brushing against his jaw in your hurry. Normally you would apologize, but you don’t dare tear your eyes away from the deer, much less make a noise, in fear of it disappearing without a trace. The doe, you correct yourself, as it lacks any form of horns.

“Oh,” you hear Shoto say softly under his breath, finally spotting the deer too.

For a moment you both just stay silent, not daring to even move too much, simply enjoying the mesmerizing sight of a doe under the shining sun, framed by the lush green of the forest. That is until the deer just turns around and jumps away like it just doesn’t care about you both just staring at it in awe.

You release a small puff of air, some tension releasing as you had been too caught up in the moment. Turning around in his direction, you regret even breathing the second you lock eyes with Shoto, his face closer to you than you had anticipated. It seems like you both have moved closer in that short moment, huddling together for some reason at the mere sight of the doe.

Your eyes jump over his dark eye to the lightning blue one, electrifying you like a summer storm, and you wonder if he’s gotten hit by lightning itself, resulting in these mesmerizing eyes, and the scar around that bright eye, the only blemish on his smooth, soft looking skin. Maybe it’s connected to his powers, to these symbols deep inside the blue, unreadable to you.

To avoid staring at his scar, your gaze travels over his high cheekbones to his plumb lips, and you could almost imagine them quirking slightly, the moment before he reveals a true laugh of joy out of his soul. This thought startles you and you immediately take a step back, bumping into the corner of the table.

A low whimper escapes as you double over, clutching your wounded side in a dramatic manner. At least now you’ve got a reason to avoid looking at him, to avoid getting lost in all these daydreams about him and…

“Are you okay? Did you hit a sensitive spot?” he asks, worry tinting his voice as he puts his hand softly on your back.

You nod at first before you begin to shake your head, these two questions colliding in your head, all while you try to ignore the possible innuendo. If you step into that territory of thought, you might as well run into the woods and bury yourself in some random cave, to never face him again.

The pain slowly abates after you take a couple of breaths to calm yourself down. It’s going to form a bruise, which isn’t that big of a deal, but you wish it wouldn’t feel like something had impaled your guts.

Straightening up, you show him a thumbs up, even if his slightly furrowed eyebrows and jutted lips show that he isn’t quite convinced. But he doesn’t look like he’s going to fight you over that, so his hand leaves your back. The spot is suddenly so cold, and you can’t help but miss the warmth of his skin, even through clothing.

You try your best to divert his attention away, and maybe yours too, as you look around, in particular to avoid looking at his face. You spot some form of wooden fence, probably a small garden, and you step in its direction with a craning neck to see what he could have planted there.

“Oh, is that a garden? What did you put there? Do you sustain yourself like that? How do you know what soil to use for what plant? Are these to eat or just for your potions?” These questions pour out of your mouth, the perfect distraction for you both as you don’t have to pull out some random question out of nowhere. And you’re genuinely interested.

He seems to have noticed your attempt at distraction according to his rising eyebrows, but he still indulged you and steps closer to the high edge of the garden and you join him close behind him.

With a soft voice he starts explaining the use of each herb, each fruit and plant, patiently pointing toward them, all while mentioning neat little details, like their harvest season, how picky certain plants are. And you can’t help but be captivated by his knowledge and the way he shares it. Even if you sometimes break out of the immersion of his voice when your eyes begin to roam over his face instead of listening.

Time passes with you both kneeling in the soft grass and inspecting the little space filled with love. You only notice how late it has gotten with the way your eyelids feel heavy, your gaze unfocusing and hazy. And as much as you’d love to just take a nap in the middle of the grass under this beautiful weather, you have to get home before that.

So with a goodbye and a promise to return tomorrow, you make your way home, the way easier to walk as your body starts to memorize the path. You could say you could find the way to the cottage in your sleep with how tired you currently feel.

It’s no wonder you barely remember getting ready for bed, much less going to sleep because your brain is practically already out of commission before that happens.

The next day you wake up with a satisfied groan. You’ve never felt this refreshed in your life before, and when you glance at the time, you startle, realizing why. You’ve overslept, you’re late for work! You immediately stand up, heart beating a frenzy in your chest and your arms tremble slightly. With a sudden rush, you remember how you had taken sick leave just yesterday, and you slump back onto your bed.

With a shaken sigh, you sink back into your pillow. You could have slept a bit more, but it seems like your internal clock was keen on terrorizing you today. And with that rush of adrenaline, you might as well stay up and get ready to visit Shoto today.

You take your time to eat breakfast and just enjoy the silence of your home before you make yourself ready for the way. You also check on the state of your food, in case you need to get some groceries. But you don’t, so you clean your place a bit before heading out.

And once again you step through the same path you’ve been visiting the last few days, and you wonder if it would inevitably become some sort of established path with the amount of walking you’ve been doing between the same couple of trees. Maybe you should start changing the route a bit the next couple of times.

You arrive in front of his door and this time you’re able to knock on the door before it’s ripped open, and you startle by the look Shoto throws out of the door, all narrow eyes and downturned lips, almost resembling a snarl. You hesitate in asking if something is wrong. His eyes blink before recognizing you, in the widest sense, and his whole face seems to almost soften. With no exchange of words, he steps to the side and opens the door for you to step in.

Mirroring the day before, he makes way for the table and sits down, waiting for you to do the same. And you do, because you’ve been walking closely behind him.

His notebook is already open on the surface of the table, and he leans slightly forward. “The leaves of yesterday still need some time to fully dry, so today we should go out and collect some other stuff I mentioned yesterday. Is that alright with you?”

You would do anything to get rid of that curse on your face, so of course it’s alright with you, and you nod to show him that. He also nods in confirmation before closing his notebook and grabbing a basket to put whatever you will collect today inside.

While he is doing that, you hurry to the door to open it up for him, even bowing slightly with a grin across your face and the moment he passes by you, you think to see a small smile on his lips, amusement sparkling clearly in his face.

After closing the door behind you, you follow him to take his side as he ventures deeper into the forest. His steps are purposeful, and you’re sure he knows where to find the target material. Still, you wish you could help with whatever he’s looking for, but you doubt you would be able to recognize it even if he told you the name of it. Despite that, you’re happy to listen when he starts talking, explaining what he’s looking for.

“I have some vague idea of what could help against your current ailment. Right now, I’m looking for a Bird’s Eye…” he trails off as he seems to have spotted something.

This revelation confuses you. What does he mean with a Bird’s Eye? Is he going to pluck the eyeballs of some poor bird? Is that something he usually does? He doesn’t seem like the person to entertain such thoughts. You want to ask him if there’s another way, but he had vanished between some bushes.

You swallow down the tremble in your throat and fight through the shrubbery to catch up to him. You emerge a couple of steps next to the spot he’s bending over. With some paces to place yourself at his side, only to see him hold some sort of purple plant delicately between his fingers. Petals growing upward the long stem to a soft point. A lavender plant… A Veronica… And suddenly you feel stupid for still assuming something without real proof. Still, you can’t help the relieved breath you let out.

Straightening up, Shoto shoots you a look, all hidden crinkles, and creasing eyes, almost like he’s making fun of you, like he’s amused at your obvious relief. “Seems like you had expected something else, didn’t you?” he asks, his gaze resting somewhere on your cheek.

“Uh, what else am I supposed to think? Telling me, ‘oh yeah, we need some bird’s eye’, doesn’t sound like, I don’t know, like you’re about to pluck an eyeball? How am I– hold on, did you do that on purpose?” you gasp at your own accusation. “You did! That’s so mean of you, I can’t believe you would use my trust like that!”

You pout slightly, even if you doubt he could see it properly, so you cross your arms in front of you to show your stance on things right now, even if you’re aware that you look overly dramatic. But that’s the point.

Your stance doesn’t seem to affect him, because you suddenly hear a light chuckle escape his lips, and when you glance at his face, you can clearly see how his lips quirked up in a silent laugh, all soft and delicate.

While you’re staring at him, you’re suddenly glad he can’t see your face clearly, because you probably look stunned, amazed, stupefied, and every other word to describe the way your eyes widen and your mouth standing slightly agape.

His eyes wander over your face, eyebrows scrunched up as if he wants to see whatever the fog is hiding behind that blur. Whatever he’s looking for doesn’t seem to be there, because the frown only deepens before he turns back to the flower in his hand, putting it carefully into the basket.

“These are the flowers we’re looking for. Do you mind picking some up?” he asks, already doing so himself, inspecting each one carefully to only select the ones most fitting.

You nod and diligently begin to pick the ones you seem worthy, collecting them into some sort of bouquet in your other hand. After a while, your hand is barely able to hold onto more, and you’re quite content with the look of your makeshift bouquet. Not being able to resist the urge, you tap him on the shoulder and hold it under his nose.

“Please accept this!” you say dramatically, acting like you just confessed your undying love to him, but you couldn’t stay serious long enough to wait for his response, especially after seeing his raised eyebrow. You burst into laughter. “Sorry, sorry! I just thought it looked like a bouquet, so–”

“Oh, so you wanted to offer me the Eye of a Bird? How romantic,” he drawls, his mouth puckered and eyebrows high on his forehead. Only the gleam in his eyes seems to betray his serious stance.

You nod with a muffled giggle. “The peak of modern romance, of course! You deserve nothing less than the best.”

He takes the flowers from your outreached hand and inspects them, acting too critical of your offering before nodding in approval. “I shall accept these, but only this time.”

You gasp, a hand over your heart. “Only this time? My good sir, then I shall prepare something more glamorous, something you can’t refuse for the next time!” you declare with a boisterous voice and a puffed chest.

Once again his lips purse in consideration. “Well, I don’t know if this is possible, there won’t be a next time, that’s for certain. You shan’t woe me this easily.”

“We shall see how this turns out,” you puff with arrogance, only to break down in little giggles.

The moment you break the immersion, he too breaks his facade with a broad smile, pearly teeth on display and eyes crinkling with happiness and mischief. With the breeze ruffling his hair he looks like the image of pure bliss.

His obvious happiness makes you smile, and you have to catch yourself before you let out a dreamy sigh. You have no other choice but to break the line of sight, lest you do something you might regret, especially with the way your insides feel all soft and malleable at his sight, full, ready to give something to always enjoy the way he seems to be in such peace. But you can’t give in, no matter how much your heart seems to plead with your senses. You should not do this, you shouldn’t even think like this in the first place.

So you redirect all your focus into picking the perfect flowers, paying close attention to the details. With that, you both slowly fill the basket, and before you know it, the evening sun is shining through the leaves, putting everything in a soft orange glow.

The full basket has gotten quite heavy and you both decide to share the burden, each one of you grabbing a side of the handle to carry it together. This arrangement is there to make it easier for you both, so no problems should arise. Even if the path you’re taking is narrow in some passages and trying to get through them together, side by side, his shoulder ends up bumping, brushing against yours more often than not. And every time this contact happens, you do your best to not flinch away or to think too closely about the warmth he radiates; avoiding leaning closer to him than you already are.

Finally, you arrive at the cottage and you feel like you have lost all breath in your lungs, most of it evaporating by the simple look at him, by the simple brush. Despite needing some space, you continue to help him carry the basket to some sort of designated space inside the house. And once you get rid of that weight, you stretch your arms above your head, hearing a silent yet satisfying crack.

Feeling the need to rest outside, even if you just were under the open sky, you take some slow steps out of the door, because you desperately need a moment to breathe without being scared of brushing against him.

That’s how you end up sitting on his veranda. The sun had already set and darkness is swallowing the forest, which is now filled with entirely new noises and movements. Despite the lack of light and the unknown biting at your toes, you don’t feel unsafe or in danger, rather the silence and the cool breeze have a calming effect on you.

With a roaming look into the sky, you notice the amount of stars visible against the deep blue of the night. Without any trees obstructing your sight and no artificial lights destroying their twinkle, you can’t help but be entranced with them. You’re so fixated on their beauty that you almost miss Shoto taking a seat by your side.

For a moment you both stay silent, arm against arm, shoulder against shoulder, knee brushing a thigh, and this time you don’t even dare to hold your breath. You feel the desire to lean against him, to feel his breath flutter against your skin. But you’re satisfied with this moment, with the way he seems to glow under the stars, giving him a halo of silver light.

Only because you’ve been staring at him do you notice when he stretches his hand into the sky and lets his finger connect individual stars into constellations. You squint, trying to see the lines from your perspective but you struggle a bit as everything is shifted, so you don’t even know which stars are connected despite following the way his finger moves.

He seems to notice your struggle, as he scoots closer, his front now almost touching your back, his head hovering over your shoulder to get down to your height. After settling like that he carefully grabs your fingertips and waits for you to pull away or to react in any way to show him your rejection, but you don’t. You rather marvel at how soft his skin feels against yours in that feather-light touch.

His hand leads your fingers to make a fist with only your index finger pointing out. With your hand like that, he rests his palm against the back of your hand, on your wrist. Positioned like that he slowly begins to show you the constellations with your own finger, all while making sure it’s visible from your perspective. While guiding you, he softly murmurs their names and the planets and stars, explaining everything and yet nothing, because you’re almost too focused on his breath against your face, the way his chin brushes against your shoulder, and you try your best to not turn around to directly face him.

After some time you do begin to relax and to enjoy all this information and the light contact. You end up leaning against his torso, his cheek resting on your head, and you both remain like that for some time, simply soaking in the presence, the silence and the warmth between you.

So it’s no wonder how you barely notice the atmosphere wrapping around you, lulling you into something peaceful and welcoming.

You only notice how gone you were when the sun's rays hit your face softly, waking you up with their soft kisses, and you can’t even be mad at being woken up like that. It is comfortable and warm. Still, the moment you open your eyes, you startle slightly at the sight of the unfamiliar, yet familiar ceiling. You slowly sit up and a patchwork blanket slides off your shoulders to bunch around your waist.

With a quick look at your surroundings, you realize where you are: the cottage. And with that realization you put the pieces together: You fell asleep on him, while stargazing, while holding his hand.

You bury your face in your hands, embarrassment flooding your ears. You hope you didn’t mumble, or worse, drool in your sleep. Or you might simply never look him in the face again.

Peaking between your fingers, you spot him in the open kitchen, silently working on something over the stove, his back turned towards you.

“Breakfast is almost done. You can freshen up a bit, I put some clothes that might fit you in the bathroom,” his voice sounds and you flinch, surprised he had noticed you being awake. “It wasn’t difficult, you made quite some noise.”

You frown, jutting your lips out. Is he reading your thoughts? Is that one of the abilities of witches? You sure hope it isn’t, or else he would know about everything that had crossed your mind in his presence… You desperately want to avoid this possibility, but it can’t hurt to try. So you think of something so stupid, so outrageous, he has no choice but to react.

I couldn't read the witch's handwriting at all, she always wrote in curse-ive.

You almost hit your own face with a groan, but you keep your gaze on his back, trying to see if this entices any form of reaction out of him. But nothing happens and you just sigh, even if you’re still curious how he had guessed your thoughts to that degree. Maybe you should ask him later…

A shrug and you stretch the last bit of heaviness out of your limbs before you grab the blanket to fold it and to put it neatly onto the sofa you’ve been sleeping on. It would be rude to leave it crumbled like that, especially after he put the effort to carry… you… For a moment you stop in your tracks and just blink blanky at the blanket in front of you.

He carried you… and put a blanket over you… He carried you…?

This realization hits you like a swinging bat and you have to bite on your lower lip to suppress a gasp. Your eyes jump to his figure, making sure he’s not looking at you, his back still turned towards you, and you slowly make your way to the bathroom, your joints feel like they’re locked up and creaking like a bad oiled machine.

Once you arrive in the bathroom, you close the door behind you and lean heavily on the sink. You feel like you just gave yourself some serious whiplash. So, with a deep breath, you begin to splash your face with cold water, trying to calm yourself down before you turn around to look at the clothes he had prepared for you. Holding the shirt in front of you, you decide that it will fit you even though it might be a bit loose, but you can’t complain about that.

With that you change into the fest pair of clothes, folding your clothes neatly. You don’t even take the time to look into the mirror to check how they fit, almost afraid of what you might see.

You leave the bathroom with another stretch and enter the open kitchen to offer your help to him, but he refuses politely because he already plated the table and there’s simply not enough space for the both of you to cook something without elbowing each other.

So you take a seat at the table, resting your head on your palm, content with just watching him being busy with the food preparation. He moves with a practiced hand, movements smooth and elegant. You can only observe as his surprisingly broad shoulders move, muscles stretching and filling his shirt. Your eyes wander over his lean back and you purse your lips the moment you see his small waist. You wonder if you would be able to put your arms around his whole torso, or your legs…

You inhale sharply, immediately averting your eyes to the window, trying to divert your thoughts to something else, anything but to look back to his direction. It’s a beautiful day outside, there’s no need to stay in the bedroom, or inside, no need to have any thoughts relating to inside activities.

Your gaze jumps around, looking for something to latch onto, but there’s nothing but the wonderful depth of the forest, which isn’t quite enough to distract you from the possible way his muscles could coil when he leans over you…

A bite to the inside of your cheek brings you out of that train of thoughts, and you’re aware of how you need something more concrete for your distraction, like that deer. But you could only vaguely discern some movements in the bushes and nothing really stepped out of the shadows.

The clatter of a plate disrupts your almost desperate search as Shoto puts a plate in front of you, and you can’t stop the excited grin spreading over your face at its contents. He made some waffles, toppings dripping down its sides and its smell luring you in to take the first bite. It looks delicious, an absolute masterpiece. And you can’t resist it, barely taking your time to thank him properly for his efforts, before digging in and letting the soft dough melt over your tongue. You close your eyes and you almost moan out of delight, the taste an explosion of pure bliss. Instead of embarrassing yourself like that, you just stuff your mouth with another bite.

And before you know it, the plate is empty, leaving you full, yet yearning for more. But you doubt you could even manage to get another bite down and just slump backward into the back of the chair, feeling some kind of satisfied drowsiness.

“Shoto, my man, this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten. You got some magic hands,” you tell him and grin widely when he raises his eyebrows at your choice of words.

Instead of properly answering your compliment, he lets out a puff of air before beginning to collect the empty dishes. You immediately stand up, keen on helping him this time around, especially when you don’t need much space to do the dishes. That’s how you end up drying the washed dishes and putting them away in their respective places. Of course not without him showing you where they belong first.

With this arrangement, you finish doing the dishes at a faster rate. He’s drying his hands as he turns around to look at you. “I’m going to brew the potion today, or at least try to. Feel free to take a book to entertain yourself for the time being.”

He points to the huge shelf covering the entire wall of the living room and you gape slightly at its size. How did you miss that in the first place? Even if you have been distracted by a lot of things, this thing is huge, there’s no way you could have just not seen it.

You barely give him a nod before immediately stepping closer to the shelf, running your fingers along the spines of the books. So many different topics, genres and authors, and there is no way Shoto didn’t read them all. No wonder he has such huge amounts of knowledge. After you have taken a couple of strides along the length of the shelf, you finally choose one of the books and take it out of its place.

With it firmly in your palm, you go and make yourself comfortable on the couch. Once you’re in the perfect position you start reading, thumbing through the book about heroes and their powers, and your brain rattles with all the possibilities and the groundwork of this fictional world.

The background is filled with the sound of utensils clashing and clattering, soft blubbering of his potion, and after a couple of pages, you decide to take a look from afar.

He’s still in the kitchen, bending over his work, a slight furrow between his eyebrows, a thoughtful pout tugging at his lips. And you just look. Just admire the evenly split hair of red and white softly falling, framing his face, the calm demeanor revealing his kind heart. You smile. You can’t help but think, these thoughts filling your veins, coming from your heart, how charming he looks, how beautiful, how handsome. Despite being aware that this relationship is entirely contractual, the chance of seeing him again after this ordeal is slim, you admit to yourself, you like him, a lot. And there’s no way to truly know how he feels about you. To him, you’re probably just another person requiring his services, nothing more, nothing less, only bound by the verbal deal you’ve made.

This realization makes you smile bittersweetly, already accepting the outcome. So you try to get back into the book, to put your focus back on the ongoing plot. But your thoughts circle back to the endless ways this could end, the endless ways this could turn and bend. And no matter how badly you wish for it to end otherwise, every path leads to the same blocked path, a deal done, a face regained and a connection lost. Who are you to interfere with fate?

You force yourself to face it, to accept it, no matter how much your heart resists. It will hurt, but everything turns out to be how it’s supposed to be.

A breath and you begin to digest the story word by word, forcing yourself to take them in until you finally relax and get into the flow of the story and its plot, all while the background noises fade out of your consciousness.

You feel yourself clutching at your non-existent pearls as you near the end of the book when Shoto walks up to you, nudging your foot with his to get your attention. And once you look up from your book, he holds a cup with some sort of tea in your direction. With thanks you take it and immediately sip from the warm liquid.

“I thought you’re supposed to brew that potion?” you ask him, cupping your hands to warm your palms on the glazed ceramic.

“I was. That’s the potion in your hand,” he answers and the corners of his mouth slightly dip upward.

You startle at this revelation and almost let the cup drop. “Wh-what? You could’ve said that earlier!”

“How could I when you so eagerly took it from my hands before I could even say anything?” he chuckles and cocks his head to the side, eyes crinkling at your shocked face.

You gape at him and look at the half-empty cup in your hands, then back at him. “Are you messing with me? It feels like you’re messing with me…”

He shakes his head. “As amusing that would be, I’m not. You’re drinking the potion right now. It will probably take some odd hours to take full effect, if at all.”

Slowly you nod and just down the rest of the tea-potion in one big gulp. You exhale and the warmth of the tea coupled with the late hour begins to make you quite drowsy. There’s no way you’re staying two nights at his place, that would be just so utterly rude of you, especially if you’re going to lend out some of his stuff. That means it’s time for you to head home, as much as you’d like to stay on the couch and continue reading.

You close the book and return it to its place before you thank him once again and take your stuff. With everything in hand you begin your way home, the evening still young and the wood still filled with enough light to not get hurt when crossing it.

Finally arriving home without accidents, the first thing you do is change out of the borrowed clothes and prepare them to wash later so you can return them to him. And you start doing your nighttime routine, even if the initial drowsiness is now gone for some reason, but you’d like to be prepared for the moment you feel tired again, and maybe you need some distraction. If you don’t, you might as well go insane with anticipation, literally expecting something to happen immediately.

This anticipation fills you with adrenalin or something, because for some time you just walk around your place aimlessly, not able to settle down without feeling your heart race. You finally settle on your bed with your phone in hand, trying to calm down to the best of your abilities. It doesn’t quite work, because you realize you never asked Shoto for his number, you never felt the need to, and maybe you shouldn’t even ask in the first place.

You sigh and roll around, beginning to scroll through whatever apps you have in rotations, and you only stop to scratch at your tingling face. At first you don’t think too much about it, as it only itches around your mouth. But then the itch begins to spread over your cheek and you have to stop everything you’re doing, because you have to know if you suddenly have some sort of allergic reaction. After thinking for a while, you don’t remember eating something that could elicit such a reaction, so it can’t be that.

It takes you a moment to realize what that could mean and you jump off the bed, rushing to the mirror only to stop in the middle of the way when you remember that mirrors don’t show your problem with your looks. So you race back and dive for your phone, almost hitting your head on the headboard. You don’t pay attention to that though as you’re opening the camera, facing it towards you.

After you take a picture in semi-good lightning, you click into your gallery, only to see the newest pic and stare at it. There’s you! With every single feature you remember and cherish.

And before you know it, you’re already out the door, dashing through the streets and into the woods. You know you should be careful about tripping, but the need to see him, to thank him, to hug him, is overwhelming. Excitement is coursing through your veins, giving you a boost in energy and you feel laughter bubbling through your lungs.

Then you stumble. Unlike the first time, you don’t immediately take a tumble down the hill, because someone catches you right on time, long before you could even get closer to the ground. You grab their arm to straighten up and end up looking directly into Shoto’s eyes. For a moment you just stare at him, mesmerized by his glittering, compelling eyes, by the way you can so clearly see them despite the darkness surrounding you both.

His words bring you back to reality. “Oh, back so soon?”

“Wh– huh? How? I mean, yes, but how did you know it’s me?” you ask bewildered, shutting your mouth with some force before you keep it open when you remember that he can see your expressions now.

He smiles, plush lips revealing perfect teeth, eyes crinkling with obvious joy while roaming over every detail of your face, taking their time over every little feature; almost like he finally found whatever he has been looking for every time he glanced in your direction. One of his hands cups your face, caressing your skin. You lean involuntarily into his touch, enjoying the soft skin on yours more than you should have.

His next words make your heart beat faster than you thought possible, and suddenly a new path opens itself before you.

“My dear, I would always recognize you, no matter what.”

[whumpbug]

this little fic is heavily heavily inspired by this post from @whump-kia because i just couldnt get the idea out of my silly brain so i brain vomited onto my notes app

context →

kinda sorta wilderness/sci-fi/apocolypse setting.. it honestly could go all ways but the important factors are 1) they are in a team 2) there are enemies they are on the run from and 3) there isnt really magic healing or anything available

i wrote it as medic kinda being the most competent one in general while leader and teammate are frazzled as hell at the situation and could be read as newer to the team but that isn't necessarily my intention!

whumpee: Medic

caretaker(s): Leader and Teammate

[all characters gender neutral]

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The room fell silent. All eyes were suddenly trained on Medic who threw open the door and staggered in.

With a dagger wedged in their side.

The team had been on the run from enemies for the better part of a week now. Even though they weren't completely in the clear, the team was completely worn out. They all needed a good rest.

They were setting up camp at one of their many bases, and Medic offered to scout the area alone. Leader honestly didn’t think it was a good idea, but they were too preoccupied to think to argue it further.

Now, they sincerely wished they had.

“Medic.. oh god, oh god” whispered Teammate.

“Ambush,” They explained. “It’s.. it’s okay, I took care of it..” Medic replied cooly, but the color was quickly draining from their face. Teammate frowned and continued questioning them, but Leader heard none of it.

Leader took a shaky breath, but their feet were planted. They couldn’t move. They were frozen. This wasn’t supposed to happen. No, Medic was untouchable. Medic was steadfast and reliable, always there when the team needed them.

Medic wasn’t supposed to go out like this. Medic wasn’t supposed to get hurt.

Leader’s breathing hitched again. Their head was reeling. What were they going to do?! No one on the team was qualified to fix this other than the person dripping blood all over the floor, yet it was still Leader’s job to do something. It was too much, it was too—

“Leader.”

Medic’s voice cut through the room like a knife through butter.

“I need you to listen to me. Carefully. Can you do that?”

Leader swallowed the lump in their throat. They nodded.

Medic took another step forward, only for their foot to catch on the ground, sending them stumbling forward. Teammate caught them by the upper arm and unceremoniously lowered them to the ground.

“Alright,” Medic began. Their face was scrunched up in pain. “Leader. I’m going to walk you through how to fix this, okay? I'm going to be fine.”

“Right. Right, I can help you.. just- just tell me what to do.” Leader said, forcing their voice to remain steady.

“Do you see that fire poker over there? I’m going to need you to grab it and stick the end of it into the fire. We want it to get really hot, okay?” Medic explained methodically.

If it weren’t for the blade sticking out of Medic’s middle, you’d think there was nothing even wrong with them. They seemed like everything was under control. They really seemed fine.

But not to their team.

No, their team didn’t miss Medic’s pallor, the way their eyebrows were pinched together, the way the sweat was beading on their brow. Their team didn’t miss the way their hands were trembling, the way their gaze was glassy, and the way they were slumped against the wall, seemingly sapped of their strength.

Medic was fighting to hold on, but it was a losing battle. They really didn’t have much time before they passed out from blood loss, or worse.

Leader’s resolve came back to them all at once. They nodded sharply and did as they were told, sticking the poker into the fire and leaving it on the hearth. While the team waited anxiously for the poker to heat up, Leader took the opportunity to adjust Medic into a more comfortable position against the wall. This earned a strangled grunt from Medic.

“Okay, Leader.. this.. this is important. Once that poker gets red-hot, you’re.. you’re going to have to pull out the blade from my wound and cauterize it.. immediately.” They choked out, shifting to give Leader a better view of their abdomen.

Leader’s face blanched.

“Cauterize?? Why not sutures? Surely that’s less painful,” Leader protested, only to be shushed by Medic raising their hand.

“I don’t have.. I can’t stay awake to walk you through that.. cau.. cauterization is.. quicker..”

Leader could tell Medic was reaching their limit. The wound, despite being partially plugged by the dagger, had been steadily dripping blood for a while now. Leader could tell by the way Medic’s voice was faltering and the way their shoulders were drooping that they were utterly spent. They had to hurry up.

Leader glanced at the fire poker, and upon seeing it burning hot, they grabbed a towel and picked it up.

“Alright. What’s next.”

Medic steeled their nerves and spoke.

“You and Teamate will have to work together. Leader, you’ll.. you’ll need to pull out the dagger and immediately press the poker along th.. the wound.. As soon as you pull it out, it’s going to start bleeding even faster.. you need to seal it immediately, just until the bleeding stops..”

Leader nods, though they hate this with every fiber of their being. They’ve never had to have had a wound cauterized before, thanks to Medic’s dilligency. Still, they know the procedure is agonizing and not one they are thrilled to perform on Medic.

Medic gaze flits to Teammate.

“You.. you have a very important job.. I need.. I’m gonna need you to hold me down. As soon as that metal hits my skin, I’m going to scream. I mean really scream. I’m also going to jerk away. I need you to hold me down, no.. no matter what happens, even if I pass out, so Leader doesn’t end up making the wound worse. Can you do that?”

Teammate frowns, but gives a quick nod. Teammate was always more timid, but now, in this moment, their jaw was set and there was a determined glint in their eyes. By God, they were going to help Medic.

Leader got up and sat on Medic’s legs to restrain them, and held the fire poker at their side. Using their free hand they gently grasped the handle of the blade sticking out of Medic, careful not to jostle it in the wound. Still, Medic inhaled sharply.

Teammate got behind Medic looping their arms behind theirs and holding them tight.

“Alright.. just.. just give me a count down..” Medic said, their voice low.

Leader nodded.

“3.”

Medic sucked in a breath.

“2.”

Teammate tightened their grip.

“1.”

Everything that happened after that countdown couldn’t have been more than 10 seconds, but to Medic, it felt like 10 years.

As soon as the dagger was removed, Leader pressed the hot metal into the wound. The guttural scream that tore from Medic’s throat was nausea-inducing.

Immediately, every muscle in their body seized up as they violently thrashed against the white-hot pain. Medic’s sobs rang out through the entire facility. Everyone in the vicinity flinched at the sound.

Their Medic, their savior, was now reduced to gut-wrenching cries.

Leader adjusted themself to sit on Medic’s thighs, effectively immobilizing them.

Teammate had to yank Medic’s arms down, using all their strength to keep them still.

“I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry..” Teammate whispered softly, tears blurring their vision.

Right as Leader was about to finish sealing the wound, Medic let out a gurgling gasp as their eyes rolled back into their head and they went limp.

“Medic? Hey, Medic?” Teammate mewled, lightly tapping their cheek.

Both Leader and Teammate finally loosened their grip on them and lowered Medic to the ground with as much care as they could muster.

“Hey, c’mon Medic.. wake up for us, yeah?” Leader coaxed, brushing a strand of hair from Medic’s eyes.

Medic’s eyelids finally fluttered open, but they looked utterly exhausted. Their face was streaked with sweat and there were tears tracks lining their pale cheeks. Still, they gave a weak smile.

“You.. you guys did great..” They managed, but not before their eyes slipped close yet again.

Both Leader and Teammate exchanged a laugh at how absurd it was that Medic was praising them for doing well. Still, the worst of it was over and everyone could breathe again. They knew they should get Medic up and into medbay, but they silently agreed to let Medic rest for a few moments longer.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

[kieonu]

boyfie! yuta okkotsu x cosplayer! reader

gender-neutral reader

category: sfw, fluff(?), yuta's a very supportive bf !!

cw: none !!

boyfie! yuta who was surprised when you told him you're a cosplayer. he just came over to your place one day in the early stages of your relationship, unannounced, and had a question mark on his head when you opened the door in full cosplay

boyfie! yuta who admires and compliments you every time you cosplay. sparkles and hearts fill his eyes as he watches you parade around your place in cosplay. he wonders how he's gotten such an attractive s/o

boyfie! yuta who learns the rules of photography to assist you in taking your cosplay photos. he's willing to do whatever it takes to help you get the shots you like ! even if it does make him look silly in public (he's definitely feeling embarrassed), but it's worth it !! 

boyfie! yuta who works on creating small photoshoot sets for you. he works as if he's getting paid for quality work and not by the hour. wanna do a simple underwater shoot for just your upper body? he's got you. he's watched enough cosplay tip videos beforehand just for this. although this, there are some times where he physically cannot create an entire set for you, so he'll contribute to renting out a studio just for these shoots !! 

boyfie! yuta who gets jealous easily. after the first few times you've cosplayed a couple with another cosplayer, his heart couldn't handle it anymore. he then offered to cosplay couples with you !! he'll cosplay no matter the character and costume details (need me someone like this </3) 

boyfie! yuta who feels awkward posing as a couple in character whilst getting photos taken. he eventually warms up and gets used to taking photos, though he's still very shy

boyfie! yuta always attends conventions and cosplay events with you. he's there to hold whatever you purchase (he's your #1 gofer) and have whatever you need. water? of course he's got it. a piece of your costume keeps slipping? he's got tape for a quick fix !! a solo cosplayer wants to take a photo with you? he'll take the photo !! truly the best support boyfriend ever

boyfie! yuta who's eyes widen and feels a little sense of panic when someone asks him for a photo. his nerves calm and agrees when he sees you smile at him, encouraging him to take the photo. if they ask him for his socials (most likely to tag him in the photo once they post it later), he'll give them your social. he's gotta support his partner as much as he can, even if it means giving people a different person's social. close enough though, right? 

boyfie! yuta who would slip away while you're in the bathroom at the convention to buy something you were eyeing earlier. he then runs back to the bathroom just so you don't suspect him to have wandered off

"why are you breathing so heavily?" 

"it got a little hot here earlier as a large wave of people walked by. it seems to have calmed down though so no worries ("⌒▽⌒) ". totally not because he ran across the cramped artist alley, nooooo.. he would give you what he bought you when you guys get home and have a little haul for the day. he'd also be just as excited over the things you bought

boyfie! yuta who walks behind you to make sure no creeps try to take weird photos of you as they pass by. don't worry about him getting lost though, he's holding your hand :D. for a pretty shy guy, he likes to hold your hand in public to show that you already have a lover and anyone else can back off

boyfie! yuta who secretly takes photos of you while walking or when you're staring off somewhere after the convention. walking to a restaurant nearby? he's snapped a photo of you. your resting on the railing on a balcony? he took the perfect photo that he'll later set as his lockscreen

boyfie! yuta who loves his s/o so much and would do anything for them. he loves supporting you in anything you do !!

nsfw edition here

[neowinestainedress]

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

LONG FICS

Everything has changed ; 11k — part of the “loving him was red” series — she would’ve never imagined that the person that would’ve turned her life around was going to show up in that small cafè where she worked every day and hated so much. But sometimes, it only takes a coffee shop, brown eyes and a rain storm for everything to change.

traitor ; 6k — requested | inspired by sour  [a] — the worst kind of betrayals are the ones that happen unexpectedly and from the ones you love the most. Haechan never gave her a reason to believe he was a traitor. Their relationship never showed signs of cracking. But doing the most for someone you love doesn’t stop them from backstabbing and leaving you behind.

enough for you ; 5k — requested | traitor sequel + jeno [a] [f] — all she ever wanted was to be enough for Haechan, even now that they aren’t together anymore. Until someone opens her eyes and makes her realize that she is already enough the way she is.

happier ; 20k — requested | enough for you sequel + jeno [a] [f] [s] — Haechan can’t live with the weight of losing her forever, he can live even less with the fear that she might be happier with Jeno. He wonders if he’s still in time to fix what he tore apart or if he’ll have to pay the price for what he did forever.

drippin’ ; 18k — requested | x reader | haemarknomin fivesome [s] — you need relief from this strange pain you’re feeling, but you don’t know what to do. Your boyfriend and his friends offer to help, giving you a solution you didn’t quite expect coming.

deep waters ; 8k — inferno event | tentacle monster [s] — all your life you heard stories about the monster that lives in the lake, but they never scared you. You were looking for him, hoping fate was going to lead you to him to prove yourself you’re not crazy for believing in his existence. And when it happens, he seems to be afraid of you.

sweet deception ; 19k — inferno event | x reader | various monsters, multiple members [s] — on Halloween, nothing is as it seems. You end up in a room with six guys thinking they have amazing costumes only to be struck by reality when it’s too late; those are not costumes at all. But remember, on October 31, nothing is as it seems.

hits different ; 44k — requested | fwb to lovers [s][f][a] — nobody ever got under your skin, not until Haechan came in your life and changed everything. 

do you want to play a game, detective? ; 10k — ghostface/scream!au [s] — in these past months your only goal is to find the killer that is terrorizing the town of Woodsboro, but when you get close to him and feel like you finally have the upper hand, Ghostface turns the game around again. Or, Ghostface wants to play with you but not like he does with his victims, and you let him.

‘cause it’s you ; 22k — hits different bonus [s][f] — it’s been 3 years since you met, two since you started dating, but haechan still hits different. or; you and haechan spend your first real christmas together.

SERIES

SOUR — COMPLETED

GLIMPSE OF US — COMPLETED

DRABBLES

thigh riding — requested | x reader [s]

practice room sex — requested | x reader [s]

game over — gamer!haechan + mark, jeno, jaemin | requested | x reader [s]

after concert sex — requested | x reader [s]

random moments — requested | x reader [f]

thigh riding diggity!haechan — requested | x reader [s]

corruption kink — requested | x reader [s]

subspace — requested | x reader [s]

breeding kink — requested | x reader [s]

BLURBS / HARD HOURS

nominhyuck humiliation + filming [s]

nominhyuck humiliation [s]

nahyuck corruption kink [s]

[pupgawa]

What about chuuya with fox s/o again? But this time she’s using CBT on him, And shes basically overstimulating him.

(If ur comfortable with it!!)

c/w’s: sub!chuuya , overstimulation , cock rings, Dacryphilia

hi baby bat ! I hope did your request some justice <3

Usually chuuya had the upper hand, pinning you down and fucking the daylights out of you after you just had a smart mouth was one of his favorite activities. But there were some moment where you outsmarted him and had the upper hand, though they were never a lot, it still happened.

It was to be expected, you foxes are clever and love to play dirty, using the fact that he was stressed at work to lay him into a more submissive role, and he though you were gonna just pin him down and ride him, maybe a hair tug here and a slight squeeze of his throat there, oh boy was he mistaken, yet he only had himself to blame for this.

You had his sat down in front of the mirror with his hands cuffed behind his back, a cock ring that was much about a size or two too small for him around the base of his cock ( nothing some good lube couldn’t fix ), and you sat behind him with your hand wrapped around his cock. 

“ feel good, ‘hara ? ” you tease with a sly, knowing grin.

“ hardly . This damn thing is squeezin’ me too tight ” he hissed, but his reactions told you differently, he bucked up into your hands with a soft moan.

“ want me to take it off ? ” you ask, you liked to trick him, but if it genuinely made him uncomfortable, you would stop, but the idea only seemed to offend him?

“ fuck no!- I mean no- it’s okay ” he clears his throat, you smile widely, oh okay you see what’s going on here, he was into this! You chuckle into his ear, gently nibbling down onto it, rubbing your hands up and down his cock, his dick throbs, shooting a slight amounts of pain up his dick, spreading down to his thighs, making them tense up, yet it was a kind of hurt that was good for his soul.

—————————

It’s been literally almost an hour since you started and he needed to cum so bad that it physically hurt him.

Take this as some sort of pay back for all the times he’s denied you an orgasm, keeping a firm, painful grip around his cock, your nails scrape over the sensitive head. He hates to admit it but this is the first time he’s ever cried during sex. tears rolled down his cheeks, he sobs as he begs you to let him cum.

this was going to be a long night … for him of course <33