#im not immune to his charms i fear

[hana-no-seiiki]

Lmao hi i saw you wanted hsr requests-

(man, its so weird to request off anon im sorry 💀)

I still dunno which characters to choose so its up to you but how about yandere character and an Aeon of Love whos quick to fall in love and adore, but just as quick to throw away things that no longer interest them?

YOU CARVED OPEN MY HEART, CAN’T JUST LEAVE ME TO BLEED !

YANDERE AEONS / VARIOUS! HSR x READER

note: this fic is more of proof of concept rather than an actual fic, if you want a more specific scenario feel free to request one through my asks!

warnings: yandere themes, canon divergence.

status: unedited

“

I met with the Snowbird once.

That was all it took for me to be captured within their spell.

To wish for the ability to fly with their holy being once spring came.

An impossible dream that was.

Yet still its honeyed promises of seeing the snowbird once again lured me into this path.

This path of love and despair.

“

— Pope of the Philian Church.

DATA BANK

DATA LOG 01 - I

[Y/N]. The God of Philandering. Snowbird. The Great Majesty of Romance. Their Wintry Excellency. Avem In Perpetua Fuga.

Aeon of Philia.

Some might call them the Aeon of Love but does love really come with a massive fear of commitment and the ease of which they left their significant others? Many scholars that studied the Aeon think not.

Their fickle, almost apathetic nature however did little to dissuade people and other gods alike from falling in love.

You see, [Y/N] was an expert, quite literally the best, when it comes to persuasion and seduction. In contrast to IX whose presence creates madness, theirs made the normal human being almost fall to their knees in religious fervor. Only those blessed by other Aeons could ever hope to escape or endure such an overwhelming aura.

The other gods themselves weren’t completely immune to their charms. One cannot help but be curious as to how a singular being was able to attain the infatuation of such powerful existences . . .

. . . and who exactly that singular being is.

In any case, as one would expect from an Aeon of Romance, the [Y/N] faith is never short of passionate poetry.

Here’s one I found in the General of Xianzhou’s office of all places. Perhaps he might be a follower of theirs? It is quite laughable to think of the great Jing Yuan dabbling in literature when avoiding duties.

“Your love scorched my mind.

Tortured my soul.

Hollowed my body.

But in this pain,

Thoughts of your presence and light,

Dull the blade you sheathed within me.

I await your return,

and your claim over the heart you’ve carved out of me.”

DATA LOG 2 - ADORETH

Perhaps those scholars were being a bit too harsh. A god of love must have extremely high standards for their partner. Perhaps those partners were simply foolish, delusional to believe they’d be enough for them.

It is a popular theory that all Aeons used to live peacefully amongst one another until the Great Majesty of Romance threw the world into chaos. The youth nowadays have written several essays alluding to their idea that it was what jumpstarted paths such as the Destruction and Elation. No evidence of such happenings have come out so far.

In my opinion? If anything the Aeon of Elation, Aha would be the bringer of chaos not the other way around. I suspect that the bias and warnings taught to the masses against worshipping or even studying [Y/N], has led to this kind of popular belief.

DATA LOG ? ¿ ? - THEE

Why ?

Why is it that they won’t come back ?

I have devoted my entire life to clearing their name. I have spent countless nights agonising on the proper words to use when describing their Wintry Excellency.

Why then would they not praise me ? Why then would they not grace me with their presence once more ? Was it all a mirage ? A tantalising dream made to inflict pain on my soul?

. . . Perhaps it is because I have chosen the wrong path.

. . .

Yes.

Yes it’s all my fault.

I should have devoted my entire life to worship not just studies.

How moronic of me !

A god of love would never be so cruel. No.

They are simply waiting. Waiting for the day, I come to them.

That was where everyone else was wrong. And I . . . will be right.

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

[honeyed-latte]

Fucked Up Pom Lore:

Totally up to yall if you read this, you have been warned, this WILL have emotional whump and it WILL handle very polarizing, kind of gross topics. Pom is an OC close to my heart now BECAUSE of the touchy subjects in her lore.

Its long as hell bc Im a yapper.

Due to how Tumblr works their blacklisting, I wont be censoring the words for the safety of those who have them blacklisted!

So, TW: Manipulation

TW: Religious Trauma

TW: Emotional Whump

TW: Accidental Incest (mentioned, no details)

TW: Suicidal Ideation

TW: Unreliable Narrator

TW: Emotional Cheating

Pom was aware of her family dynamic, Valka never hid that she had a very alive father and brother, but much like her mother Pom was of a mind that Berk was hostile toward dragons— unacceptable.

Thus, Stoick and Hiccup were unworthy of Poms consideration, let alone unworthy of meeting her at all. She is a dragon, they don't like dragons, it's simple math.

But thats not to say she didn't love them as fiercely as she was able, built by Valkas tales of her father and all the sweet stories of her brother. Her mother says the Gods have bigger plans for the women of their family.

—

Hiccup, during his year on Dragons Edge, prone to his love for cartography and adventure, finds himself on a unusually lush island to the north-east of Dragons Edge. It just barely skirts the Dragon Hunters typical stomping grounds and its a beauty.

He fully intends to map it, to scout it's dragon population and maybe make a few friends in the process. He's not fully aware he's being stalked by a human until he's a full day into his work and Toothless's prickly attitude tips him off.

The issue is he can't find them, he can't see anyone at all...

He decides to stay a few days, three maybe, just to get the full island and so far the presence isn't malicious, even Toothless's attitude mellows after the first day.

On the third and final day after waking earlier then usual, he finally manages to spot the person he theorized was stalking him. A young girl, around his age, bathing in the spring at the center of the island. The dragons milling around don't seem threatened or perturbed at all by her as she unobtrusively splashes her unruly, long hair and even with Toothless nudging him judgementally- Hiccup is a teenage boy, he is not immune to a pretty girl naked dripping in water.

He stares. Hard.

He does more then stare, fumbles out a journal and draws the seemingly feral girl. Splashing the water, grinning at the Wooly Howll that slapped her back with it's tail, and when she pulls herself out to dry on the rocks- spread out like a content dragon in the morning light.

She's braiding flowers into her red hair when he cracks a twig and she catches his eyes, a mirror of green. Hiccup runs, because he doesnt really know what else to do?

But he doesn't feel eyes on him for the rest of the day, he feels horribly guilty and creepy for looking and then drawing her, but she was strange and pretty and he's just a man???

He sleeps uneasy and wakes to a familiar flower tucked into his pauldron. Its more charming then alarming.

—

Poms never seen a man up close, Valka does any sort of battle needed with Hunters, and Queen Mala always meets them alone. So seeing the Howl Island suddenly have a stand alone man on it is....weird and exciting, his dragon is even more interesting- a Night Fury, probably the last one alive, what a find.

So she watches, and follows, and learns. His dragon, Toothless, welcomes her at their fire when his man sleeps, they talk. Toothless is a great conversationalist but she attributes that to his rider who also seems chatty.

It's less insulting or terrifying that he snuck up on her while she bathed, if he'd tried to hurt her SunBurn would have crisped him like a fish. But he didnt. So his fear seemed a bit of an overreaction....

So she tried to soothe any worry, putting a little Viking Pom in his armour as he slept, Toothless's wary eyes on her all the while.

—

Duties drag him home but he comes back swiftly, curious and perhaps a bit more.

He spends two weeks on that little island building tenuous trust with the feral girl, watching her free fall and fly with the Typhoomerang that had watched over her that morning, racing them, watching her bond with Toothless, he spends four days convinced she cant speak and doesnt understand him but he talks anyway.

She speaks, a rigid and proper way in fact with the most odd resonance, and tells him he's the only man she's ever seen. So he tells her stories, shows her maps, lets her put flower crowns around his head and stems tied to his fingers like rings.

Like they've known one another forever, he learns about her too. She learned her vocabulary from books, she lives with her mother, she isn't from this island and is only here to help the baby dragons, she was raised with dragons, the scar on her shoulder was from an injured Gronkle she saved.

It feels like a lifetime, just them. They just get one another effortlessly.

Other things take place as well, intimate things, often actually, and Hiccup only realizes they never exchanged names when he's hugging her goodbye for the final time. It feels right to not know, they'll never see eachother again after they part, if he knows he'll want to find her when the war is over- he can't do that. So they remain "Sunhair", what the dragons call her (apparently), and "Man".

Meeting her again two years later, as his mother (his mom!) drags him into a smaller rotunda of ice inside the Alpha's Sanctuary is not the meeting he had hoped for. Neither is he as elated by the acquisition of a sister as he was by his mother.

Valka doesnt ask, Pom doesn't tell, Hiccup ignores the disgust and dread in favour of battle and newfound family- then Stoick dies.

Its all a mess after that. He's Chief and his family was halved yet again, and the one person in the world who he felt was his truest equal is his sister because of course she is, that makes sense doesn't it?

The sudden fraternal feelings war with the memory of a girl he felt he could have loved under different circumstances, he figures Pom feels the same.

She's closer with Eret then him, and he tries not to be jealous about it, but he can't blame her when he can't even meet her eyes somedays.

Is it better if Eret is the brother she wishes for or the lover she can actually attain? Hiccup can't be either of those things.

—

Eret is Pom's bestfriend, only friend really, they're both outsiders watched warily by Berkians and especially Hiccup's friends.

He almost is like a brother, a proper one, one that doesn't stay from her like she's diseased or look pale when she hugs him.

Hiccup doesn't turn her away, he even welcomes her into his home as he did with Valka, but he doesn't seek her out unless he's truly troubled.

Astrid is another hurdle entirely, Pom doesn't like her. She's insubordinate, doesn't show the Queen of her nest respect even though she's to be his wife (thats something Pom avoids thinking about), she is meant to be a pillar of strength and confidence as Hiccup's mate where all can find comfort and instead she hurts them physically or insults them verbally.

Human rules are perturbing, Astrid is allowed all of this and even excused it because..."reasons". In a nest, a real one, Pom would have made her dislike known and they would battle until one perished or was exiled in their failure.

Humans aren't dragons.

So she has to pretend to like the girl to "keep peace" and swallow back all the manners she learned from her people for the sake of her brother.

Her brother.

The brother that won't look in her eyes and won't break fast with her most days, the one that doesn't touch her unless she closes the distance and jumps away as if they're filthy if someone so much as glances them touching hands.

Its all a big joke of Loki's most likely or the Gods are punishing them, its likely her fault. She should have asked his name two years ago.

She debates leaving often, only soothed by Valka's frustration and Erets fretting, she would see herself away from this Tribe thats not hers and a brother that isn't a brother any more then Stoick was her father, she would stay in the Sanctuary like she always did.

--Or perhaps drop into the sea, allow SunBurn to stay safe among a nest with the Alpha.

Pom dreams of death more then she does leaving, more then she dreams of Hiccups hands, more then she has nightmares of Stoicks body and Dragos army and the fury burning in Hiccups eyes.

If she were to die then Hiccup's conscience would be freed and cleared, he'd not worry of others learning the shame he has, Berk would lose nothing and neither would her Dragons. Valka would mourn, surely Eret as well, but they're safe and they're whole and thats what matters. Hiccup, as a Chief and Queen, would rule stronger if she weren't in his shadow.

—

Hiccup disagree's with Pom's feelings even if he doesn't know them.

In fact its an ongoing source of night terrors; Pom leaving, Pom taking the plasma blast that killed his dad (she had actually tried to, and that doesnt help the nightmares), never having found her at all.

He's conflicted before anything else, they both seem to agree not to mention it but he suspects Valka knows, somedays he thinks Eret and Astrid might as well.

Astrid doesn't know and she never will if he has any say, his and Pom's tryst predated their relationship and in a normal circumstance he still wouldn't have told her, it would just be undue pressure.

Its stressful all the time, only finding reprieve in ale and in the early hours of the morning. It was an accident, it hasn't occured since, now that they know who the other is it'll never happen again. That's good, no sacrilegious temptations, except that he feels just as discontent with the idea that they'll never have that connection back as he is with the knowledge that it happened at all.

Loving her and being in love with her both feel damning, but its there all the same.

What a horrific joke this all turned into.

[apyrisol]

🍒🦁🐛🌙🍅 + theu :3

YOPPEEE AN ASK THANK YOU SOSOSO MUCH

this is pretty long, so have a theu doodle before the cut :3

🍒 Out of all of the Dream Friends [Kirby included], which ones would they get along with the most? The least? 🍒

hmmm i have to think about this. theu is kinda quiet, she's not used to the modern era and all it's changes and new folk make them nervous. she might like bandee but his enthusiasm is a lot for her sometimes. i think they would understand eachothers mentalities; both serve someone else but not in a servant way, they're close with the one who gives them orders and appreciate all they've done for them therefore will do what they can in turn to repay them (with bandee being a guard for dedede and theu having been a personal assistant to an ancient mage). meta knight is another they might be somewhat comfortable around but they wouldn't quite be friends, they'd just take solace in eachothers quiet company when everyone else is off being loud and doing stuff. meta would probably be interested in the small bits of magic she knows if anything. (sorry for making a fave befriend my oc im not immune to it lmao)

🦁 If they were an animal — that is, of the Earth / Shiver Star / New World variety — which animal would they be? If they already are an animal, what real-life species or subspecies are they most similar to? 🦁

physically she resembles a monkey since they're a key dee n all, but she acts more like a nervous stray cat than anything ^^ somewhat skittish and tough to gain trust but will warm up to you in time and silently follow you around

🐛 What are your OC’s greatest fears, and why? How do they act or react when they’re afraid? 🐛

she's very afraid a lot of the time of a lot of things i think. nothing is as they remember, nobody they knew is still around, magic is rarer than ever, she's living on literal borrowed time, the one who woke them up is messing with forces he Really Should Not be (not his fault not his fault morpho shoulda been more careful or got there sooner before beau got in a brawl with a corrupted soul). there's a lot to fear in her current situation. she's always been quiet but since waking up in this new era it's more of an anxious quiet, she tends to cling to beau despite not quite agreeing with his quest (they do their best to steer him off the path he's decided on and eventually he does see reason! but he still wants to do Something about what happened to him). they're used to clinging to the mage they served but with them long gone there's nobody left she can truly find comfort in, so beau is the stand-in for that missing piece of her world. they're more flight than fight or freeze. i think what she's most afraid of is the thought that they'll never feel comfortable in the modern era and always feeling alienated and alone (that is if they manage to find a way to keep the magic keeping her alive going. she's also afraid of perishing for good i suppose but they've practically died before so it's something she's sortof come to terms with. still scary though)

🌙 Is your OC a particularly light or heavy sleeper? Somewhere in-between? Do they take naps? 🌙

she needs to rest a lot because her energy wavers quite a bit, but the sleep they get is usually pretty light. anxiety will do that to you. beau carries her when they need it, she wraps her tail around his intact horn and pulls their hat over their eyes. he's given her his cape as a blanket many times over their journey.

🍅 If Kirby absorbed them or their attacks, what Copy Ability [or Abilities] would he get? Alternatively, if they themselves are capable of using the Copy Ability, do they have a favourite? 🍅

ogh this is a hard one since key dees typically don't give you anything. mmmaybe ghost, sleep, or esp? ghost because they aren't really alive in a sense, she runs on the magic charm her dear mage gifted them (the thing on their tail) which saved their life back in ancient times and preserved them all that time between then and now. sleep because of what i stated in the last question, and esp because that's teleporting if i remember right and most of the magic they Do know is physical space and transition related (i call it "door" magic, still figuring out the finer details of it tho. alas she can't use it much because it's super super draining)

THANK U A TON FOR ASKING ME ABOUT MY ANIAMLLLL I LOVE TALKING ABOUT MY BEASTS YAHOO YOPPEE

[tetsutits]

hi jay!! i've been so busy but i finally managed to read the first 7k words of violet rays and didn't want to make you wait who knows how long until i have time to read more.

you are insane for that 1st paragraph! what an insanely good opening. "They call it sonder - the realization that every passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own." incredible start. incredible.

the packing scene is such an adorable way to characterize reader. what a relatable reader character but very charming too.

somehow i missed that this wasn't a best friend ran fic but a best friend's older brother ran fic, which is infinitely more up my alley. i was so hype when i realized. because yeah, big brother ran would have me in chokehold too.

i really love the way you are structuring your scenes. the quick transitions, the balance of dialogue and interiority. i especially love how you're establishing settings. i somehow get a little lost when reading fic because of the lack of setting (which is understandable, i get authors wanting to get to the hot stuff!) but i love that you are giving us the full sensory details. my favorites so far:

"the inside of your cotton tank top sticks uncomfortably to your skin, the same way that the soft hairs at the back of your neck are sticking to each other." and "the world around you is blue and green." it's all of it tbh

i can already tell this is going to be my favorite thing you've ever written!!!

aaa omg sorry for not responding sooner!! your ask has me so giddy :> my thoughts under the cut!

the first paragraph was actually written last in the fic 👀 im not very good at intro’s, honestly i tend to struggle w them a lot; so i slapped that word in there and called it a day ahahakaksn

i actually LOVE the mc so much in this fic! i pat myself on the back because she’s so cute, and i wanted the readers to be able to relate with her on some level. i also put some of myself in her too hehe i really am writing my fantasies huh

it’s actually a theyre-both-my-best friends-but-i’m-in-love-with-the-older-one LMAO she is closer to Rin tho (and oh my god, i was trying so hard not to make him the main guy i’m so down bad he makes me SO weak) but i won’t say anymore about their dynamic in fear of spoiling it, because you’ll understand once you’ve read the whole thing!

i love that trope too!! i will admit i was falling for ran each day i was NOT immune to this pouty mess of a man! sorry ran, but rin will always remain number one in my heart!

i think it adds more spice tbh, it’s more interesting than the regular friends2lovers ✨✨

i can proudly say tho, that establishing a setting and describing surroundings is my strong point in writing, i really focus on that + characterization a lot. i worked hard on those, fun fact, i had to re write Ran’s first kitchen scene with the reader like THREE TIMES!!! bc i was like …. no .. he would not say that or act like that.. re write it. lmaoo my beta readers hate me HAHA

you are too nice to me!! thank you SO much for leaving your thoughts!!!! i was so happy when i received your ask :> you amaze me as a writer and so when i got this and realized you liked my fic i had to sit on the floor for 5 minutes to collect my self LMAO

i’m excited to hear your thoughts on the other half! it definitely gets better as you read and Ran gets sexier of course take your time, and sorry it took me a while to respond i’m actually meant to be on a social media break rn lol, have a good day!!!💕

[freshsheadphones]

HAII!!

Imma give ya Tree life lore ig!! Incoming info dump!!!

So, in my au the Tree of Life chooses it guardians!! It favours immuned shapes A.K.A shapes born with immunity to the corruption cuz it's eaiser to avoid a corrupt shape having the powers. (little fun fact, in the past these shapes were called pure shapes but later scientists found out the immunity wasn't because they were "pure", it was just a gene that gets activate at birth and exists in all shapes excluding born-corrupt. It just activates it rarely).

The chosen warriors get a special mark given by the Treeangle themselves know as the Warrior's Mark. The special mark can appear anywhere on the body. With this mark they can activate the powers of the Treeangle and purify shapes and Plants at anytime. Usually, to use the powers without the mark you'd need a mini treeangle piece but it is one-time use, takes your energy and the power lasts for about 10 minutes. (Some shapes wear the mini treeangle as good luck charms and if someone gives one to someone else it's a sign that Shape or Plant cares abt you! It's typically a friendly gesture!)

The Warrior's Mark also provides a permanent power to the user. Eg. Cyan's is flight with his wings, Circle(need to give em a name lol) has super strength.

The Warrior's Mark can be "retired" by the user in exchanged for a wish that the Tree must grant. The Mark can be revoked too if the Treeangle finds the user no longer worthy.

That's all :3

OH MY GOD !!!!/VPOS

Thats very neat that the tree chooses the guardians !! If one of the warriors stops being a warrior how long does it take for a new one to be chosen? Or does it just happen immediately- I can imagine it might take some time to find a new shape thats good for the job

Also how many warriors are there? Are there 4 just like in the game itself or is it more/less?

I also like the immunity thing ! The only shapes in my au that can have imunity from corruption are the guardians but instead of the guardians being chosen they're just created specifically to be one !

It must be hard being born corrupted though, I feel like all of the uncorrupted shapes would fear them wouldn't they? I find the concept of shapes that are born corrupted really interesting tho ! The corruption in my au is more like a disease tho rather than something shapes are born with

A WARRIOR MARK SOUMDS SO BADASS NGL,,

Im gonna assume the warriors usually have one of the treeangle thingies with them right? Imagine ur trying to use ur powers n ur like 'oh damn I forgor my treeangle 💔' (I'd suck as a warrior cuz I'd forget constantly LMAO)

Being a warrior must be super exhausting tho, I'm gonna tuck em all into bed so they can take a nap, they probably need it-

(THATS SO ADORABLE WHAR I LOEV THAT<3 Id give u a mini treeangle tbh :3)

Oooo my cyan actually has wings too !! He only gets them after the corruption though, and he doesn't like using them much since it makes him super tired (eepy even)

I'm really curious what would make a shape no longer worthy of being a warrior tho, can they be deemed not worthy anymore after a certain age? (if ur shapes even age-) or is it just if they do something bad or harmful to other shapes? (Or maybe something else idk- maybe the tree just deems them unworthy cuz they're bored/j/silly

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

MICKEYYYYYY MY LITTLE ANGEL we’re having a crying competition i fear i shed real tears reading this ………………..

I LOVE UUUUUUUU ALWAYS FOREVER ETERNALLY i’m gonna get right into it as always but first of all i need to cup ur face and look into ur eyes and tell u that EVERYYY single comment and reaction u bless me with makes me smile so wide all the time :((((( tysm as always for reading my silly little fics n for being so kind and thoughtful 👉👈 i am in fact Proposing satoru has competition we’re sitting on ur bed fighting over who gets to feed u soup smh ….. 😒😒😒 sadly he’s winning he keeps pushing me off the bed </3

MY BABBYYYYYYYYYYY:((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( oh it feels sooo weird for him to be like this huh:((((((((((((((((((( look i am not immune to his charms anyway i think i would already have him wrapped up in a blanket i know he thinks he's strong or whatever but where there's a will there's a way okay he will be bundled up and in my lap like a baby bc that's what he is 

IMMEDIATELY SO REALLLL he IS a whole baby :(( i just think he needsss to be babied so bad he needs to be bundled up in a fluffy blanket he needs to be spooned he needs to be kissed silly it’s true. u could fix him mickey i truly believe it. this is how im imagining toru after ur done w him btw

"HONEY" WAHHHHHHHHHHHH i love that nickname it's so sweet (pun intended ig)

HADDDD TO MENTION THIS BC I AGREE AND I THINK IT’S THE GOJO PETNAME EVER? it’s my favorite for him bc i sincerely believe he would use every petname on planet earth for u BUT i think he would only call u honey when he’s feeling particularly vulnerable…. :(( sniffle. it’s just such a sweet silky lil petname and i think it would sound so pretty when he’s a little too tired to be cocky and he only has the energy to be your satoru yk….. he’s your beloved and you’re his beloved and it feels so right to call you honey bc u make everything feel so sweet ☹️☹️ i am mayyyyybe a little ill abt him but it’s fine we both are we’re chilling we’re down bad .. etc etc..

1000000% THAT HE DOESN'T LIKE TO BRING PEOPLE OVER OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD I'VE THOUGHT ABOUT IT SO MUCH HE'S ALWAYS AT YOUR PLACE OR AT SUGU'S OR AT SHOKO'S HE'S NEVER AT HOME BC IT DOESN'T FEEL LIKE HOME DOES IT? IT'S JUST A HOUSE FILLED WITH FURNITURE THE MOST IMPORTANT THINGS ARE THE PEOPLE HE LOVES AND THEY'RE NOT THERE SO HE JUST DESPISES THE PLACE i think only his own room is fully decorated with figurines and pictures and i feel like he even keeps his game console in his room too and then the rest of the house is super bland. like genuinely feels like it's about to be sold or whatever. he even likes to shower at your place or sugu's or shoko's and i think that nobody would really even say anything about it. yeah. brainrot. i love him so much ari. i'm so glad we have him. he's baby and he deserves all of the love in the world. wait i rambled right after i read that "he doesn’t invite you over very often" so i'm only now getting to the next part and you're saying the same stuff.... WAIT ACTUALLY THOUGH YOU'RE SAYING THE SAME THINGS THAT IT LOOKS LIKE IT'S ABOUT TO BE SOLD WAIIITTT THIS SOUNDS WEIRD I PROMISE I DIDN'T READ THAT PART AH AND HIS BEDROOM TOO THE TRINKETS AND THE PICTURES AND THE CONSOLE ARI DO WE ACTUALLY SHARE A BRAIN WHAT THE FUCK

PHDJFJFJFJKFKFJ MICKEYYYYYYYY WE’RE SO GOOD???? WE’RE SO GREAT?????? OUR BRAINS ARE KISSING IT’S TRUEEEE THEY CAN’T KEEP THEIR HANDS OFF EACH OTHER no but i’m sooo glad we agree i think abt this constantly!!! ☹️☹️☹️ i really do think he’s the kind of person who’s super touchy and friendly and loud but his loneliness is so blatant when u finally spot it. he loves company and he loves his friends but when there’s no one else around his own sense of isolation is all he has. he’s incredibly closed off but it’s subtle, he SEEMS open and honest and that’s also why it’s so devastating when you notice it. satoru is the kind of friend you could know for years and consider yourself close to but then one day you belatedly realize that you don’t really know a single thing about him. the kind of person who loves being at your house and taking in every single detail because your home reveals so much of who you are as a person….. and then he has to leave and goes back to his own home and it’s just. empty. there’s nothing to look at.

yeahhhhhhhh he makes me feel kind of sick actually. HIS STRUGGLES ARE VERY PERSONAL TO ME so i always love getting the chance to depict them like this….. and to realize that ppl see him the same way!!! :’3 we are holding hands mickey. u and me and gojo. no but i think he’s very much like a stray cat who eats from the bowl you put out every night but doesn’t want to get too close, doesn’t want to enter your home and get too attached, doesn’t want to compromise himself… so he just sleeps under the hood of a car and looks into your home and the golden light seeping from it and dreams about what it would feel like to bask in it. (lighting strikes me down and kills me immediately)

😐 you will be punished for this. YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT. YOU CAN'T. TAKE IT BACK. RIGHT NOW! of course he doesn't want to part with it it's his sick best friend. they hold each other in the dark.

MICKEY WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOUUUUUUUU DO U HAVE ANY IDEA HOW VIOLENTLY MY BRAIN COMBUSTED AFTER READING THIS 😭😭😭😭😭😭 IM NOT KIDDING I THINK I HEARD SOMETHING UNSCREW ITSELF IN MY HEAD you are a sick and twisted individual. (affectionate) no but genuinely how dare u write better than me in the rb of my own fic do u have no shame 😭😭😭 PHDKFJJD THEY HOLD EACH OTHER IN THE DARKKKK THEY DO at some point the monster under the bed almost starts to feel comforting doesn’t it…. like an old friend….. and it loves you back….. sigh. i honestly think satoru would rather stay in his loneliness where it’s safe than risk getting too attached and it’s so heartbreaking mickey :(( sighhhh. he makes me so sad …..

BIG DREAMY SIGHHHHHH should i call him my baby again or am i being too annoying already actually i couldn't care any lessMYY BABBYYYY:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( I NEED TO PAT HIS HEAD:(

mickey don’t ever feel ashamed for telling the truth HE’S OUR BABYYYYY and he deserves all the pats in the world ……. using this as an excuse to say. i think headpats are his weakness. he’s constantly patting ur head and his students’ heads and sugushoko’s heads but the moment u turn the tables on him he just kinda melts…. i’m weak for headpats too i know my own kind ok. i KNOW he purrs when u give him head rubs it’s simply in his blood he’s putty in ur hands immediately

actually this whole paragraph was insane you are one of a kind ari you know that? i'm so grateful we get to take a bite out of your art you're changing us all and i mean that

WAHHHHHHH I CRIEDDDDD MCIKEY U NEED TO STOP WHAT IF I GET A HEART ATTACK …. u r the sweetest always u say so many kind things all the time my heart can’t keep up sigh …. sniffling and hiccuping a bit. thamk u. T—T

WAILING LIKE A BABY RIGHT NOWWWW😭😭😭😭😭 HE JUST WANTS A HUG HE WANTS YOU TO PROTECT HIM HE WANTS YOU TO KEEP HIM SAFE HE WANTS TO FEEL YOU AGAINST HIM HE WANTS TO BE GREEDY HE WANTS YOUR LOVE OH MY GODDDDD

YOU GET ITTTTTTTTT ALWAYS HE’S A LOVING MACHINE …… i think he’s Wired to be a caretaker like it’s in his dna it’s in his blood but. a part of him.. a tiny lil part….. wants to be taken care of soooo badly. he’s scared of u bc u make him want to be greedy. u make him want a lot more than he feels he deserves. SIGHHHHH I’M SO TIRED this whole rb is just gonna be us making each other sad over satoru gojo huh …….

I LOVE HIM SOOOOO MUCHH ARI WHAT THE FUCKK your gojo is always so funny and so perfect thank you for sharing him with me i mean with us ig....

<3 <3 <3 my gojo is written specifically for u actually DON’T TELL ANYONE THO it’s a secret … no but i am in fact genuinely giggling + kicking my feet + twirling my hair at this i feel so giddy at the idea that u like my gojo he’s the loml i’m so happy that some gojo lovers like him T—T ….. he’s my cute little intimacy-fearing kittycat i need to pick him up by the scruff of his neck and squish his cheeks until he’s whining at me to stop

I AM SO HAPPY THAT HE'S ACTING INSUFFERABLE AGAIN YOU'RE SO RIGHT and i love you calling him a big blanket you know how i love my weighted blankets hehehehhehe

PUT THAT IN JUST FOR U BTW ‼️‼️ sprinkling in lil details for my beloved mutuals is my love language actually i am kissing u gently on the cheek :33

"HONEYBEE" 😭😭😭😭😭 HE WOULD HE SO WOULD CALL YOU THAT😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 i wholeheartedly believe that he'd call you the most obscure fucking nicknames and well... i'd eat that shit up okay i would fucking love that............... 

RIGHT RIGHT RIGHTTTT…… mickey i knew !! i could trust u !!!!! he’s such a sucker for silly nicknames,….. sweet lil silly petnames that make u scoff and laugh and blush…… u are. his everything. his little honeybee. <3 <3 <3 i think that if u liked it he would go out of his way to come up w even MORE obscure silly petnames and he would get soo smug when it makes u laugh <333

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭you know him so well it feels so good to read ari!gojo like he's REALLLL THIS IS HIM!!!!!!!!! THIS IS THE GUY!!! you're so good you're wonderful you're amazing and i love u

MICKEY I LOVE U SO MUCHHHHHH my gojo is in Love w u btw he told me ………. he is staring at u adoringly he’s so smitten it makes him look silly. I’M SO HAPPY U LIKE HIM I LOVEEEEE UR GOJO SO MUCH TOO in my brain they r always holding hands they r friends :) little itty bitty kitty cats

and him thinking about all of the things you could do tomorrow:((((((( the crepes the arcade the theater i am just a puddle of goo it's very hard to type like this he wants to live with youuuuuuu:(((((

HE WANTS TO LIVE WITH UUU 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 sniffle …. personally i think gojo + the Concept Of Home is the best combo ever i just think he should be allowed to find a home for himself to find a place to rest his eyes !! a place where he feels safe …. sobbbbbb he just feels so safe with u. u are his home truly. i’m so emotional abt him it’s a little silly actually i am wiping ur tears while crying all over the place too …….. the grip he has on our sanity needs to be psychologically evaluated i think

ohhhh i could pick out so many more comments of urs bc there is never enough to say abt our little guy :’33 i do truly love him so much always and forever i’m alwayssss happy to fawn over him w u mickey.. at the end of the day he’s our baby. our little itty baby boy. sniffle …. tysm as always for being so sweet and thoughtful and funny i appreciate u so dearly T_T !! here is a palm sized kitty gojo for u as a treat he’s very nice and sweet <33 doesn’t even bite!! I LOVE YOUUUUUU <3 <3 <3

ask me to leave and i’ll stay forever ; satoru gojo

synopsis; satoru is stubborn; even when plagued by such a high fever, he insists there’s no need to take care of him. thankfully, you’re equally as stubborn.

word count; 10.8k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, implied non-sorcerer!reader, sickfic, reverse comfort, sickening amounts of fluff, lots of petnames, satoru gojo vs the mortifying ordeal of being loved, just a tinyyyy bit of angst if u rlly squint, literally just satoru being pampered for like 10k words straight, he’s cute when he’s sick but still manages to be a lil shit <33, he’s also a huge sap you have been warned!!

a/n; what can i say, im a proud member of the ”satoru gojo needs to be babied relentlessly” club <33 he’s just a little guy!! tagging @catchuuu my beloved for being the sweetest enjoy a healthy dose of sick sleepy satoru <33 i am tagging all toru enjoyers in spirit btw i love u all

you’ve never seen satoru like this before.

head buried into a big pillow, white locks tousled and sticking to his forehead — skin sweaty, hot to the touch, with a flushed face to match. heavy breaths fall from his parted lips, blinking in and out of consciousness, squeezing his eyes shut.

it’s nothing like the joyous, loud, cocky satoru you’re so used to. he’s weak. he’s fatigued.

he’s completely, undoubtedly sick.

”really, baby,” he slurs, raspy and dry. still attempting to raise himself up, arms straining under the weight of his shivering body. ”there’s no need f’ —”

unceremoniously, his limbs give out beneath him, and he tumbles right back down; a meek little wince escaping his throat as his face falls back into the mattress. the sound makes your heart squeeze tightly in your chest.

”ah. that’s…” he tries to speak, a disgruntled hum muffled by the sheets. ”… annoying.”

satoru sounds frustrated. you can tell he’s resisting the urge to close his eyes, a little helpless, unable to even move properly, like a fish out of water. he’s still breathing unevenly, still sweating, still burning up — you can practically feel it, from where you’re standing, crouched down by his bed.

you’ve never, ever seen satoru like this. you’ve seen him sniffling during flu season, wrecked with headaches during rainy season. you’ve seen him vulnerable; not many times, but enough that it matters. 

but you’ve never seen him like this.

(and it makes you terribly anxious.)

”satoru, please just —” you croak, gnawing at your bottom lip. trying desperately to swallow the worry in your chest. ”don’t overdo it. please?”

you can hear the anxious little timbre of your own voice, and you can feel the frown tugging at your lips. but you can’t do anything to quell the insistent pitter patter of your heartbeat, the ache that accompanies it. satoru’s lying down, still trying to gather the strength to reassure you, even through the feverish haze clouding his mind. 

he looks so small.

this wasn’t what you were expecting to see, today. you were expecting to meet up with satoru, and see his happy little grin, those tiny dimples and freckles that only show themselves in the light of the sun. you were expecting to feel the weight of his hand in yours, as you strolled down to the new crêpe stand he’s been wanting to check out since he first found their instagram account.

you were expecting to see him happy. healthy. a little obnoxious, a little annoying — but hopelessly sweet. all the love you could ever need, molded into a human shape. your little angel.

a sigh slips from your lips. you can’t help it; because satoru is just so stubborn, so closed off, and he can be such an idiot sometimes. you knew something was off the moment he sent you that text, asking you oh so charmingly, apologetically, if you could postpone your date for just an hour or so. you knew something was wrong, but he still wouldn’t let up until you brought out the 🥺 emojis. 

and then he told you he was fine. it’s all he ever is, apparently.

my throat’s just a little scratchy, is all. wouldn’t want you to miss out on the voice you love so much, yeah?

give me an hour and i’ll be perfect for you. <3

moron.

he’s curled up in a fetal position, trying to stop himself from shivering, muttering little reassurances under his breath that you can’t make out. wearing ripped jeans and a nice jacket, like he was fully prepared to head out like this — like he genuinely thought an hour, some painkillers and a dream would be enough to chase away a fever this severe. like he was so desperate to see you he was fully willing to take that risk.

moron. moron. he should’ve called you the moment he realized he was sick. instead, you had to coax him into letting you come over, with a flurry of sad and cute emojis you know make him go weak at the knees when they’re coming from you.

and here you are. in satoru’s house, in front of his bed, trying to convince him that he is, in fact, sick. 

but he just won’t listen.

”just — gimme a couple minutes, honey?” your boyfriend mumbles, barely coherent, stringing words together haphazardly. awfully dizzy. ”i just need the painkillers to kick in, i promise i —”

”satoru.”

there’s a sad tint to your voice, now. unmistakable. one that satoru notices, even through the feverish, muddy filter over his reality. 

and it makes him quiet down.

(he doesn’t want to disappoint you.)

as gently as you can, you settle down on the bed, eyes painfully softened. overflowing with care. towering over him, leaning close — to press your lips against his scorching forehead, brushing away his sweaty bangs with a palpable tenderness. your voice soothing, coming out almost as a low coo. you’re frustrated, and exasperated.

but most of all, you’re worried.

”go back to sleep,” you hum, a gentle command. your hand finds his, cold skin meeting warm, tracing circles over his palm. ”i’ll take care of you.”

”there’s no need,” he mutters, instantaneous. so used to denying kindness. 

but he curls an arm around your waist, anyway, tugging you closer; a little needy. like you’re much too far away for his liking. finally beginning to settle down, coaxed into resting by the soft touches your grace him with. it’s only a matter of time.

so you keep your lips against his forehead, cradling his slender fingers in yours, murmuring little whispered reassurances. and before you know it, his lashes have fluttered shut, like a white dove landing on the ground. he still looks so troubled, so meek. you can’t resist the urge to soothe him, hand cupping his face, thumb smoothing over the apple of his cheek. you watch him lean into it, eyes dripping with care. your poor baby. 

for a couple precious moments, you allow yourself to indulge in the sight. even like this, he looks a bit like an angel, a painting come to life. like one wrong brushstroke could smudge him. 

so you’re delicate, as you trace little hearts into his skin, delicate as you maneuver his body enough to peel the layers of clothing off him — leaving him in only an oversized tee and a pair of briefs. satoru can only whine, softly, so quiet you barely even hear him. so disoriented, on the brink of falling into a deep slumber. some part of him is trying to resist, you’re sure, still agonizing over the date he’s missing out on. as if anything matters more than his health.

but it doesn’t work. he can only let out a tiny groan, hopelessly pliant as you tuck him in, pulling a big blanket over his shoulders. you card through his hair, another soft kiss planted on his sweaty forehead — and your hand stays between his locks until you’re sure he’s asleep. his breathing mellows out, his grip around your waist loosens, seeking comfort from you even in his dreams.

you’d crawl under the blankets with him, but you have work to do.

stealing one final glance at your fever-ridden lover, your heartbeat ricochets. he still looks so meek, all warm and sweaty, shirt sticking to his skin. a frown tugs at your bottom lip.

satoru is always so stubborn, refusing to lean on others for support. you wish he had called you immediately, nagged at you to come baby him. sure, you might’ve sighed in faux exasperation, and teased him a little, but it still would’ve made you feel happy. useful. and you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. maybe, if you just prove that you can take care of him properly, he’ll do it next time.

so you stand up, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead one last time, and make your way towards the kitchen.

satoru’s house is spacious. a little too spacious, enough for at least three people to live in comfortably; nice furniture, an expensive sofa in the living room, a large tv you’re almost certain he only keeps around for white noise. such are the ways of the rich, you suppose. he doesn’t invite you over very often, so you’ve never had the chance to get very affiliated with the space. it’s always the other way around — him, waiting for you on the couch when you get home, chirping out an unconvincing don’t even worry about it, baby! when you ask how he got in without a key. or him, showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night, filling the sleepy silence with jokes to distract you from the bags under his eyes.

(he likes it when you cling to him in your sleep — he sleeps a lot better that way. that’s what he told you, at least, when you brought him coffee in bed that one time. a little glimmer of honesty.)

he stays over so often he might as well just move in, but you aren’t really sure how to even approach that subject. some part of you fears it’d be too much, too intimate, that he’d pack his bags and run away. bringing all his secrets with him, that soft laughter you’ve grown so fond of. so you figure it’s better to let him make a home out of yours, let him curl up on your couch and snack on the candy you hid in your kitchen cabinets. that’s safe for him.

and now that you’ve seen his home up close — if you can even call it that — you think you’re starting to understand his preference. because it’s spacious, yes, but also empty. save for expensive furniture and fake houseplants, there isn’t anything to indicate that the apartment belongs to him, that he feels comfortable there. like he hasn’t even bothered to make it his. like it’s about to be sold, and you’re just one of the potential buyers, checking the place out. admiring the patterns of the floorboards and the walls.

it doesn’t feel like satoru at all. 

his own bedroom was another story, a much more pleasant one. a lot more satoru. filled with little trinkets, key charms and souvenirs and silly figurines. a framed photo of three students by the windowsill, an old uniform hanging by his closet, socks strewn about here and there. a dying houseplant. comic books and movie posters and a ps5 you don’t think he’s touched since he finished spiderman 2. a king sized bed, that makes him look like a spoiled little princess when he’s lying in it, next to a cat plushie you won for him at a fair. knowing he actually sleeps with it kind of makes you want to cry.

there’s this particular scent, too, lingering in the air. mellow, nostalgic, the kind that soothes you with just a whiff; a blend between sunlight, expensive cologne, and something sweet. it clings to all his favorite clothes, to his skin. you’d live in it if you could. 

something constricts, inside your chest — like thorny vines strangling your beating heart, pressing down ever so slightly. just thinking about it, about him, about his distressed expression as his head hit the pillow. making your way over to his kitchen, getting yourself affiliated with the space, preparing to make a good soup for his fever. the fridge is almost empty, save for sweets and that one drink you like. the takeout boxes on his kitchen table tells you all you need to know.

it only makes you worry more.

luckily, you were clever enough to buy your own ingredients on the way here. chop, chop, into tiny little pieces. chicken soup should help, shouldn’t it? it’s all you can focus on, all you can hope for. anything is fine; you just want to help him, be of use somehow. he does so much for you.

you just want to give some of it back.

satoru’s loneliness is a subtle thing. flexible, alert, slipping away at the slightest sign of knowing eyes. for someone who’s so often surrounded by people, cracking jokes and laughing louder than anyone else, he doesn’t seem to make any noise when he’s alone. he curls into himself, just a bit, and a kind of reminiscence smooths over the contours of his face. 

that’s when you see him. that lonely, lonely guy. resigned to his self-imposed isolation, paradoxically yearning for something more. watching as the cherry trees bloom, like they’ll give him the answers he seeks once they bear fruit.

but the moment you come into view, he smiles. knowing you won’t push it — that you’ll let him take his time. that you’ll let him flee, just a little. 

still, you can’t help but wish he’d lean on you a little more. you wish you could chase his loneliness away with a pitchfork, but it’s a fickle creature. you somehow doubt he wants to part with it. 

all you can do is love him. love him, love him, and love him some more; until he’s had his fill.

(you’re not sure he ever will. it’s a good thing, a very good thing, because you’re almost certain you’ll never run out.) 

and that’s why you’re here. in his ghost of a home, his kitchen, pouring water into a large pot. tender, sprinkling love over every single action, every slice and dice, every piece of chicken and veggies thrown into the boiling water. you try and you try, hoping it’ll reach him.

but before you can make another attempt, something reaches you, instead.

two long arms curl around your waist, suddenly, something warm and soft pressing itself against your back. and you almost flinch, completely caught up in the stirring of the soup, unsure of how much time has passed since you began. it jolts you out of your thoughts. 

you know who it is, though. never mind the fact that he’s the only other person in the apartment; you know it’s him by his touch alone, the weight of his arms, that particular scent that surrounds him. like memories of summer.

it’s awfully sweet, the way he clings to you, the soft little blissful sigh that slips from his lips. but before you can feel moved at the domesticity of the gesture, worry clouds your senses. he doesn’t even get the chance to speak.

”satoru —” you place a palm on his forearm, craning your head to look back at him. his forehead rests against your shoulder, and his eyes are closed. he’s still so warm, too warm. ”what are you doing here? you should be resting.” 

your boyfriend mumbles something, under his breath, something that your ears can’t quite digest. he shifts, a little, as if getting ready to put on some sort of act — to smile and joke, or laugh and tease you. you can imagine what he’d say if he wasn’t in such a feverish state; he’d hug you from behind, a low purr of what’cha up to? whispered right into your ear. then you’d jolt, and he’d giggle sheepishly, satisfied with the reaction.

but now, all he can do is cough. still leaning against you, gripping onto your midriff a little more desperately than usual. you step away from the stove, turning around, making sure your hands never leave his. looking up at him with concern in your eyes, noticing his little frown.

”c’mon, you need to lie down.” you reach for his cheek, cupping it in your palm, and he practically melts into it. enjoying the chilly sensation to his fever-ridden skin. “the soup’ll be finished soon, okay?”

”… you made,” he tries, syllables falling from his lips haphazardly. ”soup —” a series of coughs. they cut him off, and the worry in your chest only deepens. 

“don’t push yourself, okay? you’re really sick, dummy.” satoru pouts, but doesn’t say anything, only clinging to you tighter when you usher him away. “let’s go back to your room, alright?”

but he won’t budge. he’s so sleepy, so sick and delirious, putting all his body weight on you. you try your best not to stumble beneath it.

”honey,” you plead, holding him securely in your embrace. his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. ”work with me, please? just gotta get you back to bed —”

”’s…” he whispers, suddenly, a raspy little thing. scratchy, meek, awfully earnest; you wonder if he’s too sick not to be. ”… too lonely without you.” 

a moment passes. your breath hitches pitifully, at the base of your throat.

satoru is hugging you so tightly, as if you could disappear at any moment, slip away if he doesn’t keep you close. he’s holding you as if pleading for comfort, for a touch of safety. as if he needs you. if his meek little admission hadn’t already melted your heart the marrow, that thought certainly would’ve done the job.

taking a moment to collect yourself, you inhale, face surely aflame. satoru just nuzzles into your shoulder, too tired to say anything else, wanting to be close to you. it’s a wonder your knees don’t buckle.

gently, you let your hand trail upwards, palm smoothing down his hair. softly, like he’s a clingy, overgrown cat. ”sorry,” you start, just a little breathless. ”i’ll be with you, okay? won’t leave you alone. i promise.”

there’s an earnesty in your words that you doubt you could ever fake. satoru must hear it too, you think, because he finally begins to work with you. allowing you to stumble towards his bedroom, supporting his weight.

but once you make it to his bed, he still refuses to let go of you.

”toru, gotta go finish that soup. ’n make you some tea.” you rub his back, soothingly, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. shaking his head and emitting a throaty groan, only squeezing you tighter when you try to guide him under the covers. how cruel of him, to act so cute when said soup is most likely boiling over by the stove. ”please, sweetie? it won’t take long. i promise. you can go back to sleep.”

another groggy huff. you’re both still standing by the edge of the bed, and satoru still won’t let you leave. all you can do is sigh, smearing a little kiss against his neck. 

he squirms, ever so slightly, and you get an idea.

so you keep pressing little kisses against his skin, knowing just how to make him melt. feeling him relax in your embrace, snuggle into your chest, so pliant that he lets you tuck him in — as long as your lips stay pressed against his jaw. before he can realize what’s happening, you grab hold of the blanket, draping it over him; his half-lidded eyes blinking up at you. you press a final kiss against his forehead, grabbing the cat plushie from the edge of the bed and placing it close enough for satoru to reach if need be.

”i’ll hurry, toru. be a good boy and stay here, alright?” 

a teasing lilt sneaks into your voice, coaxed out by how adorable your boyfriend looks like this; baby blue eyes all droopy, snowy hair messy as it falls across the cushion he’s resting on. blinking sluggishly, grunting a little in response. 

when you scurry off the bed and make your way towards the door, you glance back at him. he’s still looking in your direction, with half-lidded eyes, and your chest aches. ”i’ll be back soon, baby,” you try to soothe him. “try to sleep.”

this time, you hurry. body working almost on autopilot, images of your boyfriend still tugging at your heartstrings like he’s arranging an orchestra, moving your legs forward. before you know it, you’re walking back, carrying a tray with both your hands. steam wafts up from the hot soup and the warm cup of tea, shaking a little as you walk, a pair of painkillers in your pocket. just in case he needs more. an eager, pulsating joy rushes through your veins — now you can be with him, tend to him, not leave him alone in a room so like him you wish you could stay there forever. 

your footsteps are light, almost careful as they cross the threshold. satoru stirs, waiting for you to come to his side, looking like a kicked puppy in his giant bed. he tries to lift himself up, but it looks like it requires an intense amount of focus, like his elbows could buckle any second. 

”careful,” you croon, hurrying over, placing the tray on the nightstand. gently pushing him back down on the mattress. he complies almost instantly, too out of it to put up a real fight. staring at you, as if in awe.

to satoru, you appear almost as an angel, a somewhat blurry figure that he recognizes without looking. your very presence is soothing, like a lullaby in human form. with the hazy filter clouding his mind, he can’t even seem to form words correctly — all satoru can focus on is you. your movements, the lilt of your voice, a cold hand dulling the heat of his forehead.  

his fever still hasn’t gone down. you try and muster a smile, but you’re sure it must look painfully coated in unease. crouching down, you place your elbows on the bed, your jaw meeting the mattress. you’re at eye level with him, now.

”hey,” you start, low and comforting. you don’t want to be too loud. ”sorry it took so long.”

using what little energy he has left, satoru crosses the distance between you, inching closer and closer. noticing it, you reach a hand out to cup his cheek — lips quick to find his forehead. a barely audible sigh leaves him, and you smile.

”d’you think you can eat?” you whisper, gazing at him fondly. treating him a little like a baby, maybe, but you can’t help it when he’s like this. quiet as a mouse. ”i made soup and tea… sound okay?”

he tries to make a noise. it comes out sounding like a strange blend between a dissatisfied groan and an affirming hum, but he still ends up nodding slightly. you wonder if indulging you is ingrained into his bone structure. 

”… okay. think you can sit up, toru?”

once again, your boyfriend only hums — but he does begin to move, trying to hoist himself up, wobbling pitifully. you help, keeping him steady until his spine meets the headboard. slumped against it, he blinks slowly, feverishly.

”thank you.” you press a chaste kiss against his cheek, before reaching for the cup of tea, the scent of chamomile and lavender filling your senses. you blow on it softly. ”here. it should help with your throat, so try to drink a bit, okay? s’ got honey in it.”

silently, he accepts the cup, bringing it to his lips. when he takes a sip, you catch the slightest hint of a grimace on his lips; even with your warning of careful, it’s hot, you think he must have managed to burn his tongue. 

satoru keeps his thoughts to himself, not wanting to worry you. but he can’t say bringing himself to drink it is an easy endeavor, with how sweaty it makes him feel, how it forces him to acknowledge how painfully dry his throat is. how he can’t even taste the herbs.

he wants to be good for you, though.

so he gulps it down, slowly, managing to sip almost all of it until you decide to give him a break. compared to this morning, he already feels just a little better, a little less like he’s in a fever dream. you’re sitting by the bedside, so patient, so caring. he can’t take his eyes off you, even now. clearing his throat, attempting to get used to speaking again. ”thanks.”

the mutter sounds strained, but slightly easier on the ears, easier to make out than before. courtesy of the honey, you assume. gosh, you hadn’t realized you’d begun to miss his voice so much. 

”no problem,” you hum, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “think you can eat something? or is that too much?”

”’course,” he croaks. there’s a slight sense of liveliness in his eyes that wasn’t there before, but before he can continue, he’s caught off by a small coughing fit. harmless, but sufficient in making you worry. 

”no need to force yourself,” you soothe, patting down his head, watching as he quiets down. the tea might’ve given him a temporary energy boost, but you still don’t want him to overdo it. “just relax, satoru.”

he hums, weakly, and you reward him with a light ruffle of his hair. then you direct your attention to the soup on the nightstand, still hot, smelling of vegetable broth and fresh chicken and coriander. you bring the bowl down to your lap, and take a spoonful of the soup, blowing on it like you did with the tea. bringing it towards his lips. 

”i dunno if it’ll taste very good,” you admit, scratching absently at the back of your neck. ”but it should help with the fever, at least. i’d be happy if you could eat a bit.”

as his lips make contact with the metal of the spoon, satoru can’t help but let himself be swept away. he still feels a little too hazy, too feverish to really comprehend what’s happening; he feels oddly bare like this, vulnerable, a little afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he doesn’t keep it shut. so he opts to accept the treatment he’s receiving, not putting up a fight or making a fuss. not meeting your expectant eyes.

(he feels a little shy, being spoonfed by you. how very unlike him.)

the soup does feel soothing. he thinks he can even get a sense of the taste, how hard you must’ve worked on it. but more than anything, the way you’re acting is like balm to his soul — looking at him so kindly, treating him so tenderly. offering him spoon after spoon with gentle words of encouragement. being babied in such a way makes him feel so oddly content that he’s almost embarrassed. it should be the other way around. 

yet here you are, spoonfeeding him soup that you made yourself, because he’s sick, even though he hates to admit it, and you care about him. he allows the information to linger in the back of his head, for a while, wallowing in the comfort it brings him. fully comprehending it would take too much of a toll on him, in this state. 

satoru basks in the intimacy of the situation, and so do you. brushing strands of hair away when they stick to his skin, pressing your lips against his forehead to check his temperature. you keep doing it until satoru’s appetite dwindles.

”alright, that should be fine —” you glance down at the bowl, now roughly half-empty. more than enough, you think. ”uhh… how do you feel?”

”… better,” satoru answers, truthfully, the ghost of a smile on his glossy lips. ”thank you.”

for a second, you only stare, saying nothing. there’s something in satoru’s expression that catches you off guard, something that’s a little hard to identify. is it the way the light reflects off his skin, his pupils? the red, feverish flush of his skin? that flimsy little smile? or is it the honesty in his eyes, the way he’s looking at you like he’s trying to convey something he can’t put into words? 

as you look at him, take him in, the boy you love so dearly, you can’t help but feel like he just carved open his chest — let you peek inside his ribcage. it’s hard not to feel flustered, in the presence of something so vulnerable.

and he’s thanking you. as if taking care of him is a great burden, a chore, something you’d demand gratitude for. you want to tell him that it’s the bare minimum, the very least of what he deserves. the very least of what you could, should do for him.

you want to tell him that he’s safe, here. that there’s no need to be the strongest, whatever the hell that means, that he can let go of the burdens you know he hides from you. that he can just be your sick, terribly stubborn boyfriend.

”… okay,” is all you breathe out, every other word getting stuck in the back of your throat. ”that’s good.”

satoru’s fingers curl around yours, suddenly, where they lay on your lap. his movements are still a little groggy, disoriented, as he brings your hand up to his lips. they’re warm and soft, especially so in light of his fever. he closes his eyes, white lashes catching the light of the sun, flitting in through the haphazardly closed blinds. your heartbeat stutters.

”… love you,” he mutters. a soft little thing. your eyes don’t leave his face. and your lips part before your brain can instruct them to.

”i love you too,” you blurt out, instantaneous. like you couldn’t bear to keep him waiting, even for a second. ”… satoru.”

he smiles against your skin. he always does, at the sound of those words. you make him feel so terribly, terribly weak, all the time, everyday. you make him feel so human, and he can’t bring himself to think of it as a bad thing anymore. 

he’s still cradling your hand when he brings it down to the blanket. ”thanks for coming,” he continues, pushing himself. trying to get the words out while he still has the energy to say them. “you didn’t have to.”

they’re a little clumsy, a little stale on his tongue, but they’re honest. he is thankful — the prospect of being seen like this is discomforting, gruelingly so, but he doesn’t mind nearly as much if it’s you. he’d never tell you, but he did feel just a little lonely, when he woke up this morning. disoriented, enveloped by hot flashes of pain, in a way he’s not used to in the slightest. missing out on your date, too, that he had been looking forward to ever since you decided on a time. 

but, as if sensing it, you came to his rescue. the feeling of your lips on his skin was the first sensation he felt, when he woke up for the second time — with you by his side, this time. his guardian angel, carrying the scent of spring with you. a memory of a certain boy, of better times. 

(satoru thinks you’re nostalgia personified. he likes to imagine that you met as children, underneath a cherry tree somewhere, but he knows it’s not true. there’s no way he wouldn’t remember you.)

you smile. pleased, at his show of vulnerability, small as it may be. ”i wanted to,” you assure him. equally honest, equally full of double meanings and hidden messages that neither of you need to uncover to understand. ”… i care about you. of course i’d come.”

a light, raspy chuckle; that’s all satoru manages to vocalize. his mind is stuffed, and there’s an ache in his chest, longing to be filled. it’s been there for a while now. but somehow, you seem to fill it up, slowly but surely, almost effortlessly — with every sound you make, every slight movement, every flicker of an expression on your face. everything seems so effortlessly perfect, in his eyes.

the words leave his lips before his mind can think the thought to reel them back in. 

”what did i do to deserve you…?”

you blink. a moment passes.

then your eyes soften, considerably so, crumbling at the corners like the cookies satoru loves so much. he’s looking at you, eyes soft in a similar sense, layered over with adoration. you think the love inside your chest might crawl out of your throat and eat him alive.

you give him a chuckle of your own, quivering slightly. terribly fond. this time, you’re the one who drags his hand up to meet your lips; kissing his knuckle softly. his breath hitches.

”i’m the one who should be saying that to you,” you grin, a little weakly. and you mean it. you don’t think you’ve ever meant anything more. 

it’s so honest that it strikes a cord right down his heart, more heat than the fever can account for rushing to his cheeks. satoru hopes you don’t notice it. all he can do is squeeze your fingers, lightly, not trusting his voice not to break. silence lingers, and you only gaze at him softly. 

”… do you want anything else?” you finally ask, with a tilt of your head. still so eager to assist, racking your brain to come up with anything else to do for him. ”i’ll get it for you, no matter what it is.”

and, truthfully, satoru thinks you’ve done more than enough. more than he could ever make up for. but he’s always been greedy, and there’s one thing, only one thing, one thing he can’t help but ask for. something he craves more than anything. he can’t help but indulge himself, indulge in his selfishness, in the need to feel your skin against his. 

so he stretches his arms out, and looks at you with a distinctly needy glint in his eyes. his fingers move in a grabby motion, almost unconsciously, and he might’ve been embarrassed if he wasn’t still so feverish. all he wants is to keep you close, to make the hollowness inside his chest dissipate. you always make that lonely feeling go away.

needless to say, you heed his request. almost instantly, your heart pumping in a steady rhythm, with this visceral desire to keep him close, to protect him. and who are you to resist, when he’s asking you for it himself?

you waste no time crawling beneath the covers, situating yourself right next to your lover. only then do you finally, finally, reach your arms out to pull him close; so close you feel the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart. his cheek meets the softness of your chest, snuggling closer, and you card a hand through his soft locks. his arms reach around your midriff, a perfect puzzle piece, and he releases an audible sigh — deep and satisfied. in his tired, clingy state, he subconsciously throws a leg over yours, trapping you further. 

you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

finally, satoru can fall asleep. with the fever still clouding his senses, and your nimble fingers smoothing along his scalp, the occasional kiss to his head as he listens to your soft heartbeat, he’s drifted off before either of you know it. melting into you, into your warm embrace, cheek squished against your chest. tiny little breaths fall from his lips, and you feel like you’re cradling the whole world in your arms. 

you’re relieved. making yourself comfortable on your back, with satoru sleeping soundly on top of you, hoping he’ll feel better when he wakes up. careful, even with your breathing, intent on letting him sleep. knowing he doesn’t get nearly as much rest as he should, most days. 

before long, even you succumb to the cozy atmosphere, gradually dozing off. satoru is always warm, even more so now, and his weight is comforting.

stifling a yawn, you tug him a little bit closer, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. you could use a day of catching up on lost sleep, too.

when you wake up, you’re acutely aware of something poking your cheek.

it’s a ticklish sensation, sort of irritating, and it rouses you from your cozy slumber. disgruntled, so cruelly ripped away from your sweet dreams — satoru was in it, you think. you feel robbed.

still, you can’t be too mad. not when the real deal is right in front of you, eyes crinkled and full of warmth, a teasing smile on his lips. he’s still snuggled into your chest, all cozy and cute, as you lay on your back, propped up by a myriad of fluffy pillows. he looks up at you adoringly.

”well hello there,” he purrs, shooting a giddy little grin your way. still poking your cheek. ”wakey-wakey, sunshine!”

a series of blinks. you stir a little further, the sleepy haze of your brain beginning to slip off, slowly but surely. it takes a couple of seconds for you to remember why you’re here, what happened before you fell asleep. 

”… hey,” you greet, at last, stifling a yawn and squeezing your eyes shut. stretching lazily, like a sleepy cat. ”how do you feel…?”

”i’m perfect. better than perfect, actually,” satoru chirps, a little cheeky, hoisting himself up so that he’s hovering above you. a hint of mischief in those pretty eyes. ”you’re a good nurse, y’know?”

you huff out a chuckle. as always, his actions reveal more than his words — you could tell he felt a lot better the moment you saw his smile, heard how he formed his words. “alright, that’s good,” you hum, exhaling softly. ”how long was i asleep? what time is it?”

”i woke up just now, too,” satoru lies, albeit a small one. he did wake up recently, only to spend what he thinks must’ve been at least fifteen minutes staring at you until he physically couldn’t take it anymore. he had to hear your voice, see your smile. it’s a personal record for him; usually he spends less time admiring your peaceful expression, far too eager to speak to you.

”it’s pretty late,” he continues, another small lie. pleased with himself. ”way too late for you to go back, actually. how about you spend the night?”

another blink, your eyelids heavy and droopy as they open and close. then you’re reaching for your phone on the nightstand, and checking the time. a smile is quick to bloom on your lips, teasing and bubbly, as you tilt your head to meet his gaze.

”it’s only four, satoru.”

”way, way too late,” he only reaffirms, flopping down on top of you again, keeping you from leaving. ”god knows what kinda creeps are out there at this hour — much too unsafe. i’m just looking out for you, baby.”

”of course,” you indulge him, a sly little roll of your eyes that makes him pout. ”you know i was planning on staying over anyway, right?”

”well, of course! i wouldn’t expect anything less from my favorite nurse.”

his eyes betray his words, gleaming with a sudden colour of excitement, all glitter and relief. a joy that clogs up his throat like seafoam, and spills out from his lips. you look down at him, for a second, unable to resist the temptation — reaching for his forehead with the back of your hand. 

it’s significantly less scalding, now. 

you let out a sigh, laced with relief, one you didn’t know you’d been holding in. ”it really has gone down,” you hum, stretching the sleep from your limbs again. “that’s good.”

satoru huffs. ”i said i was perfect, right? don’t you trust me, my sweet lover?”

”i never know with you,” you give him a huff of your own, exasperated. fond. “you said you were just fine this morning, too.”

”i was!” he whines. piling up lie after lie. “i totally could’ve made it to that date, you know. i got worse because you had no faith in my abilities.”

”right. of course.” you shoot him a lopsided grin. ”you just don’t wanna admit the fever beat your ass, huh?”

”see? no faith.” a chuckle slips from your lips, and satoru has to bite back a smile. ”unbelievable. i fought that fever off just for you, and here you are, laughing at me.”

”oh? i thought it was thanks to my top notch nursing skills?”

”well, that too! but it was mostly me.”

a sigh. “whatever you say.” then you’re smiling, once more, unable to help yourself. eyes crinkled at the edges, soft around the corners. ”i’m just glad you’re better. i was worried.”

satoru pouts, again, but you can tell he acknowledges it — your earnest concern. this is how you love, the both of you, through words that never say it all and actions that say the words your mouths can’t fit. decoding the meaning of it all in silent gestures, glints in your eyes. little truth games.

”you really thought a lil’ fever was gonna be enough to keep me down?” he shakes his head once, then twice. and you know that what he means to say is i never want you to worry. “c’mon, now, baby.”

another lighthearted roll of your eyes. ”yeah, yeah, yeah. my sincerest apologies, my strong, stubborn, totally-not-sick boyfriend.”

”don’t you mean your strong, perfect, beautiful, clever, flawless, totally-not-sick boyfriend?”

”don’t think i didn’t notice you sneaking the stubborn out of there.”

”hehe.”

a silent moment passes, something tender filling up the space between your words. satoru’s weight is still so comforting, like a big blanket, his arms enveloping you as he breathes in your scent. you’re so happy that he’s acting insufferable again.

”alright, my honeybee,” he suddenly chirps, breaking the silence, hoisting himself up. ”time to go. we can still get those crêpes if we hurry.”

you blink. once, then twice.

”… satoru.”

”yeah? what’s up?”

you give him an unimpressed look, gazing up at him, towering over you like he fully thought you’d be alright with letting him leave. ”you’re… not going out today,” you deadpan. “you know that, right?”

this time, he’s the one who blinks. once, then twice.

”huh? why not?”

”uh, because you’re sick, maybe?”

”what?” satoru pretends to be shocked, offended, as if he can’t believe you’d even suggest something so outrageous. ”i’m all better, though!”

you raise an eyebrow, thoroughly displeased. all better? ”your fever isn’t gone, satoru. it’s just not horrible anymore. you’ll get yourself even more sick if you go out now.”

”i won’t! seriously!” he insists, looking down at you with a sorry attempt at puppy dog eyes. ”i feel good enough to run a marathon!”

”you’re not doing that either,” you mutter. then a sigh, exasperated. you can’t let this charade go on for too long. ”come on, satoru — don’t be so stubborn. we can go there another time.”

”but —”

”besides, didn’t you say i have to spend the night because it’s too late to go outside? remember the creeps?” there’s amusement in your voice, a light smile on your lips. ”what if they get us?”

”well, they obviously won’t get you while i’m there,” he huffs. ”what, you don’t think i can protect you properly? you’re hurting me, angel.”

you bite back an incredulous laugh. god, he’s stubborn. you’re so in love with him you just barely restrain the urge to pull him in for a kiss.

”sa-to-ru,” you coo, dragging each syllable out, sending a shiver down his spine. ”we’re not going outside. end of discussion.”

”why not, though?” he continues to pout, still refusing to give in. resorting to cheap guilt-tripping. ”don’t you wanna go on a date with me? you don’t want to see me happy, is that it?”

you only sigh, thoroughly exasperated, reaching up to cup his cheek nonetheless. he nuzzles into it. ”you’re such a baby.”

”your baby.”

another sigh, to mask your adoration. at this rate, the back and forth will never end, so you scramble for solutions.

“can’t we just have our date here?” you suggest, after some contemplation. ”i bought some ice cream on my way here. we could watch a movie, or something. isn’t that enough?”

satoru’s eyes bore into yours. contemplative, as he lets the silence linger, gears turning inside his mind. he wants to go outside with you, wants to hold your hand and hear you hum happily as you bite into your crêpe; wants to steal a bite when you��re not looking.

but it is a tempting offer. you could eat ice cream, and binge a bunch of movies, and he could rest his head in your lap. coax you into playing with his hair.

(he’s maybe, just maybe, a little bit tired, too.)

so, finally, he sighs — softly. in resignation. 

”… well, i guess that’s fine,” he pouts, allowing himself to fall back into your embrace. his voice is muffled, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. ”i wanted crêpes, though…”

”i’ll get you your crepes,” you assure him, relieved to have reached a compromise. ”i can go buy ’em myself and come back. then we —”

”no, no, no!” satoru suddenly interjects. whining, tugging you closer. ”you’re not going anywhere. not without me!”

a sigh, just as adoring as it is fatigued. ”then i’ll… order crêpes, or something. or we’ll eat ice cream today and then crêpes when you’re better. does that sound okay?”

satoru is silent, for a while.

”… okay,” he hums. ”that’s fine.”

”haah. okay, good —”

”however!” 

you give him a look, a silent what now? that has him smiling. shuffling a little, in your embrace, planting his jaw on top of your chest and gazing up at you with a grin. ”instead of the crêpes, i want a kiss.”

you blink. exasperated, as an amused chuckle follows. ”so convoluted. you can just ask, you know?” you don’t give him time to answer, eager to appease the pouty man. ”whatever.” 

leaning in, you press a chaste kiss to his cheek. sweet and soft. to your surprise, he’s still pouting when you pull away. ”i meant on the lips,” he explains, as if it was obvious. 

a tilt of your head. 

”… but you’re sick.”

”so?” satoru just pouts, expression practically etched into his face at this point. ”you won’t kiss me anymore? just cause i’ve got a tiny, miniscule fever?” he huffs, turning his head to the right and shutting his eyes. ”if you don’t love me anymore, you can just say that.”

another sigh leaves your lips. he’s so ridiculous. you can’t really deny him, though.

”… fine. it’s your fault if i get sick, though.”

in the blink of an eye, he’s perked right back up. wagging his non-existent tail, closing his eyes and waiting for you to try again. silly.

but you relent. his lips are only slightly warmer than usual, and you choose to see it as the good sign it is, proof that his fever truly is starting to dissipate. you feel satoru relax, melting into the kiss, but before it can drag out too long you’ve pulled away. ”— there. happy now?” 

”for now,” he quips, equally teasing. he’s cute, though. a little kiss or two is a small price to pay for the spark of joy in his iris, even if it ends with you sick on your deathbed in a couple of days. 

”that’ll do,” you grin, hoisting yourself up with your elbows, carrying satoru with you, his jaw still on your chest. ”wanna go eat some ice cream, mr unreasonable?”

you don’t really need an answer. of course satoru wants ice cream. you’ve never seen him turn down anything sweet — and, lo and behold, he perks up again, getting into a sitting position. like an excited puppy. 

”got it,” you chuckle, stopping to think for a moment. “there’s soup left, too. but maybe you’d rather order something? it turned out kinda so-so.”

satoru gapes. ”you kidding? that was the best soup i’ve ever had!” 

his exclamation makes you roll your eyes, words so coated in confidence that you almost want to believe him. ”satoru. you don’t have to lie.”

”i’m not!”

”you couldn’t even taste it.”

”i could, i could!” he stubbornly whines. ”i tasted all your love. every single drop!”

you give him a look. he only grins at you, a little teasing, a little giddy. you can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed; averting your gaze with a sharp scoff, trying to appear unbothered. ”yeah? and how did my love taste?”

satoru leans forward. it’s sudden, and you blink, instinctively leaning back in turn. he’s wearing a signature smirk when he stops moving, close enough that you feel his breath on your skin. hot.

”delicious,” he purrs, glancing down at your lips. blue eyes gleaming with mirth. ”best thing i’ve ever had.”

you know he’s just trying to fluster you, so you try to fight against it, but it doesn’t work nearly as well as you’d like — crumbling under his gaze, averting your own with a quiet huff. and he lets you off the hook, satisfied with your embarrassed expression. pulling back slightly, letting you breathe. 

as swiftly as you can, you regain your composure. clearing your throat. ”well, you can have more of it later, then,” you make a move to get off the bed. ”let’s go eat ice cream.”

after being caged in by satoru for so long, your limbs are a little stiff, caught under the weight of his boundless love. when your feet hit the soft flooring, you stretch them out, watching satoru follow your lead. still clad in that sweaty shirt.

”you should probably get a change of clothes,” you suggest, exhaling as your muscles loosen up. ”you’ve been wearing that shirt all day.”

”oh? is that an excuse to see me out of it, sweetheart?” satoru grins, fresh mischief gleaming in his eyes. ”you know you can always just ask.” 

you huff out a sardonic breath. ”yeah, yeah, whatever. throw on a hoodie or something, weirdo.” you stifle a giggle when he makes an offended noise behind you. “and some pants.”

”you don’t like the underwear?” he looks towards the corner of the room, studying himself in the mirror. “this is an expensive brand, you know?”

”you’re the only person on planet earth who’d give a fuck about underwear brands,” you scoff, a little snarky. ”just — put some comfortable clothes on, okay? i’ll go get the ice cream ready.”

”wait!” he exclaims, attaching himself to you, curling his arms around your bicep. “you’re not allowed to go anywhere without me, remember?” 

“… okay, okay. hurry up and get changed, then.”

sitting back down on the bed, while satoru walks towards the closet, you scroll through your phone — refusing to meet his expectant stare. he wants you to look over, you’re well aware, just so he can tease you for trying to sneak a peek. but you’re not falling for it this time. 

when he’s done, he’s wearing a comfy hoodie and some sweatpants. it’s a good look on him, casual and cozy. awfully cute. he wastes no time in attaching himself to you, again, an arm linked with yours as you travel to the kitchen; grabbing the pints of ice cream from the freezer, a couple snack bags from the drawers, before plopping down on the couch.

satoru maneuvers you into his lap, and you don’t put up a fight, leaning into him as your back meets his chest. he keeps you locked in place, arms around your waist, planting his jaw on the top of your head. and he relaxes, comforted by your smaller body pressed up against his. holding you so close satisfies a certain protective itch in his brain, never failing to calm him down. a safe haven, of sorts.

you watch the movie and eat the snacks, chattering away, letting the silence linger every now and then. after a while, satoru gets a slight headache, resting his head in your lap and whining for you to soothe him. you do so without any teasing; you’re much too soft for him. and he’s still sick, even if he’s doing better. you couldn’t resist him even if you tried.

so you opt to indulge him.

”baby, i think my fever’s going up again…” satoru pouts, gazing up at you through fluttering lashes. ”can you check?”

you smile, with a raise of your eyebrow. ”this is the fifth time you’ve asked me to check your temperature, toru.”

”just wanna make sure,” he whines. “please?”

with an exaggerated sigh, you lean down, lips once again meeting his forehead — humming against his skin. nope, his temperature hasn’t gone up. just like it hadn’t gone up the last time you checked, or the time before that.

”you’re good.”

”oh, thank god,” he exhales. ”are you sure? like, a hundred percent sure? maybe you should check again. just in case.”

”satoru,” you coo, a teasing lilt on the tip of your tongue. ”you can just ask me if you want a kiss.”

”a kiss? scandalous. i just wanna make sure my condition doesn’t worsen.”

he’s grinning, and you’re rolling your eyes, and both of you know damn well you’re going to indulge him anyway. he sighs in satisfaction when he feels your soft lips on his heated skin.

”hmm…” you narrow your eyes, thoughtfully, before looking down at him with a teasing smile. ”nope. definitely still the same temperature.” 

”you sure?”

”a hundred percent.”

”hmm. okay, got it.” he rolls over, burying his face in your stomach. wrapping his limbs around your midriff. “that’s good. just wanted to check, you know?”

”of course.”

”might need you to check again soon. just to be safe,” he chirps, biting back a soft grin. you don’t bother hiding yours.

”got it, got it,” you coo, fingers carding through his messy hair. “anything for my sick baby.” 

satoru releases a soft breath, bordering on a giggle. you can’t help but let your smile grow wider, heart brimming with affection. you let it clog up your chest until the movie’s almost over, and you simply can’t help yourself anymore.

”your room is very like you.”

it’s sudden, breaking the peaceful silence, making satoru stir. you’re both starting to get sleepy again. but he blinks up at you, studying your expression before parting his lips.

”… oh? how so?”

“well…” you stop to think. humming, absently fidgeting with a lock of your boyfriend’s hair. ”when i first walked in, i thought the whole house felt kind of empty, you know?”

satoru hums. unsure of where the conversation is going, maybe just a little intrigued. he mostly just likes listening to you talk. 

”but then i went into your room, and — it just felt very you. kinda messy, and stuff, but cozy. and a little sentimental.” satoru looks up at you, admiring that certain soft glimmer in your eyes. you meet his stare with a smile. ”maybe it doesn’t make sense? i guess i’ve just been thinking about it.”

he closes his eyes.

there’s something soft in your tone, something silky and simple, and he can tell you’re being sincere. it’s something he likes about you — that willingness to be soft, almost pridefully so, to bare yourself even if you aren’t sure that he’ll return the favour. he likes to think it’s rubbing off on him, slowly but surely; he doesn’t think he’s quite as bad as before. telling you about things that are dear to him isn’t something that scares him, anymore. and even when you see him vulnerable, sick and delirious in bed, he isn’t afraid that you’ll use it against him.

you’re a comfort; his safe haven. a place to rest his weary head. maybe you always have been, even before he really got to know you.

”i like your place more,” he finally admits, lighthearted in its weight. your gaze flits down, but his is still lingering on the tv, not really paying attention to it. ”it feels very… you.”

a smile crawls up to rest against your lips. playing along, your hands finding solace in between his fluffy locks. ”how so?”

and satoru smiles. eyes sparkling with something mellow, like a soda pop cracked open on a boiling summer day. he shifts a little, just to gaze up at you again. ”it’s… homely. warm,” his smile only grows. “and awfully sentimental.”

he lifts a hand up, to touch your cheek. tender, as his thumb smooths against your skin. it’s warm, beneath his touch, heating up with every word he speaks. satoru’s love feels a little like the sun, when it spills out this fervently, like it could burn you into cinders — you think you’d be happy to lie in the ashes. he’s smiling at you, like sunshine, like little dusty specks of light. and he exhales.

”i wouldn’t mind staying there forever.”

the expression on his face is a lovely one. you take a moment to simply bask in it, desperate to etch it into your memory. you don’t think you could forget it even if you tried. how fondly the light of the room embraces him, that soft grin he’s shooting your way, only vaguely teasing. and his eyes, the gateways to his soul, so sincere you can’t look away.

you love this man with your whole chest. you knew before, you’ve known for a long time, but each day you fall in love all over again. it’s all you can think as you look at him, all snug and safe and happy in your lap.

you don’t realize you’ve been staring at him silently until he chuckles, pulling you out of your sentimental stupor. it only flusters you further.

”you’re cute,” satoru croons, still cradling your cheek. tender, soft fingertips against your heated skin. all you manage is a meek little furrow of your brows, but that only makes him chuckle again.

”… you can.”

he blinks. still smiling.

”stay forever, i mean.”

you can’t look at him, when you say it. the words are barely above a whisper, and you aren’t sure if they’re conscious or not. it’d be nice to say they just slipped out, but they feel somewhat deliberate, all the same. you know you mean them, either way. it’s the one thing you’re sure of.

this time, satoru is the one who can do nothing but stare, his expression unreadable. you try not to let your gaze wander to his face, his eyes; but through the peripheral of your vision, you feel like you catch a particular kind of sadness reflected in them. or maybe it’s something closer to yearning, longing. something like that.

”… well,” he finally hums, voice so low you barely pick up on it. ”maybe i will, then.”

you reach something. 

you catch a glimpse of it, at least, for just a second or two. something warm and bare, something simple and incomprehensible at the same time. an emotion so strong it leaves you reeling, yet still so light. it’s there and then it isn’t, just out of reach, and you think that if you could only find the courage to curl your fingers around his, then —

a laugh track plays from the tv, snapping you both out of your thoughts.

(the moment passes before you can fully understand it, fully comprehend it. maybe some part of you already has.)

��

satoru chuckles, reaching for another ball of mochi and popping it into his mouth. ”this movie’s awful, huh?”

”yeah,” you’re quick to agree, maybe a little too quick. grinning weakly. ”it’s good in a so bad it’s good kinda way, though.”

he hums in absentminded agreement, still chewing on the soft treat. keeping his gaze steady on the screen, the flicker of emotional scenes he hasn’t been keeping track of, barely resisting the urge to look up at you again. but his heart already feels a little too mushy for his liking — he’s not sure he could take it.

satoru doesn’t get sick often.

his immune system is strong, there’s no denying that. but more than anything, he simply can’t afford to be sick. there are people who need him, people who depend on him, and the idea of being in such a defenseless state — stuck in bed while the world continues to spin, unattended — makes him feel so anxious he could throw up. even sleeping makes him feel a little skittish, sometimes, though he’s gotten a lot better since he started falling asleep with you in his arms.

it’s funny, he thinks. before you, being sick wasn’t something that really existed in his world. if he felt a little under the weather he would simply puff out his chest and down a painkiller or two, waving it off with a flick of his wrist; no biggie, really. he’s satoru gojo, after all, and the world needs his eyes on it.

but then you came along. you came to his rescue, spring in your pockets, and you took care of him, with what he knows to be love. genuine, earnest concern for his wellbeing. his happiness.

yeah — it’s funny, for sure. satoru never thought he’d ever enjoy being sick. 

yet here he is, head in your lap, feeling you run your fingers through his hair. kissing his forehead whenever he whines, indulging his little convoluted ploys. bringing him soup, when he gets hungry again, soup you made yourself. he wasn’t kidding when he said he tasted your love through it; it was all he could taste, with his numbed out senses, all he could feel.

you’re so good to him. there’s nothing he would trade for these moments with you, absolutely nothing. he’s glad you came over, after all. glad you’re so stubborn, and oh so caring. satoru can’t help but smile, heart almost stuffed to the brim with gratitude — what could he possibly do with this immense love in his chest?

”i love you so much,” he blurts out, practically beaming. now you’re in his lap, again, and he takes the opportunity to smear openmouthed kisses against your neck. delighting in the little squeak you try to muffle.

”where did that come from?” you blink, squirming a little in his embrace. a movie is still playing on the tv screen, one better than the last — your attention was fixed on it before satoru broke the silence.

”just felt like saying it!” he only chirps, grinning ear to ear. ”i love you. you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he murmurs, earnestly, lips against your skin. ”my whole world.”

for a moment, you wonder if the fever is making him delirious. then again, this is pretty standard for satoru; always eager to fluster you, to shower you with love until you’re pushing him away. it’s overwhelming, but you’ve never minded. this is how you measure his love — little gaps between too much and never enough.

”… you’re not gonna say it back?” comes a whine, right by your ear. now he’s nibbling at your neck, little beast that he is, pouting because you let the silence linger for too long. he’s being such a baby about it. but you still rush to reassure him, echoing his words in earnest. 

”i love you too, satoru,” you smile, slightly exasperated. craning your neck so that your lips can meet his jaw, and satoru grins, giddy at the attention. ”my whole universe.”

satoru lets out a happy little noise, almost a giggle, sleepy and pleased. his arms squeeze you just a little tighter, like you could never be close enough, even when he’s got you in his lap like this. if he could, he’d keep you there all the time. attached at the hip, close as can be. 

even with a ruined date, even after worrying you, he feels well and truly satisfied. because you're here, and you’re watching a good movie, and you’re gonna stay over tonight. when it gets dark out, he’ll get to fall asleep cuddled up beside you, hold you in his arms and feel you nuzzle into his chest. then he’ll pepper your face with kisses to wake you up, and you’ll grumble all sweetly, and he’ll carry you to the kitchen despite your grumpy protests. you’ll eat breakfast together, chatting and enjoying the way the sunlight flickers around the room like a happy cat. maybe he can even make you breakfast himself, to thank you for today. 

if the fever’s gone by then, you’ll probably let him outside. then you can go get those crêpes, and maybe go to a park, or to the movie theatre, or a fun arcade, before heading back to your apartment to relax. and then he’ll stay over. the day after, too. and the day after that.

living together with you wouldn’t be so bad, he thinks. it wouldn’t be bad at all, actually. 

the thought has been on his mind for a while, now. getting to fall asleep with you every night, eat breakfast with you every morning, see more of your footprints in his life… satoru can’t think of anything he’d like more. maybe he’ll start hinting at it, slowly but surely. if he can lure you into broaching the subject, that would be ideal — but if he has to, he doesn’t mind doing it himself. you’re worth the emotional toll.

you curl into your boyfriend a little further, his jaw now resting cheekily on the top of your head, large palms underneath your shirt and rubbing circles into your bare skin. you have no idea what he’s thinking, no idea about his plans, and he thinks that’s for the best. he knows you’ll indulge him, at the end of the day.

maybe he’ll just ask you, tomorrow. if you say no, he can just blame it on the fever making him delirious.

[daddyhausen]

• kinktober — day twenty nine : corruption — malakai black •

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ masterlists } | { kinktober 2022 }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact }, corruption, hatefuck, cnc, free use outdoor sex, stranger sex, submissive/dominant dynamic, oral sex { male receiving }, face fucking, throat fucking, hair pulling, restraints { chain }, breeding kink, impregnantion, rough sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, male + female orgasms, multiple orgasms, squirting, internal cumshot, vaginal creampie

{ word count } — 1k

{ genre } — smut

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ taglist } — @stxrrlightwrites13 @boutmachines @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @legit9thlunaticwarrior @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @damnnhausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @nicoleveno14 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @baybay-boom

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

“look at you…” he peered down at your kneeling, chained up naked form

“like a beautiful rose blooming in the middle of a snowstorm”

he tilted your head up, making you look at him

his natural hazel green eye held some emotion, some empathy towards you

it glimmered with humanity, revealing that there was still a shred of the man he was once formally known

the other piercing white, like the aforementioned snowstorm

ghostly and hollow

the phantoms of his fingertips fluttered lightly against your pristine skin

grazing the tops of your shoulders with featherlight touches

you held a resentment towards him

after all you of him, not of what he wanted with you

more so nothing of how you came to be in this predicament

naked and bare at his mercy to use and you with as he saw fit

he’d merely beed rumour amongst the townsfolk

an old tale husband’s would tell their wives to keep them from running off into the woods at night

a womaniser he was, or at least something far more mystical of the sought

many the women of the town, pure untouched women had ventured into the forest during the early morning hours

soon returned back the next sunrise, belly full of child

or so that’s what you have heard

“what do you want with me?”

you questioned with slight sombre in your voice

despite your best efforts as to not display any form of fear or weakness in front of him

he knelt down to your level

a small smirk falling across his lips

the metallic twinge of his lip ring glowed under dull moonlight

“you intrigue me…” he paused for a moment

“you’re the first to reject my advances. the first to be completely immune to my charm” he remarked, almost bewildered by the fact

“i intend to change that”

at this moment it had come to your attention that his skin was just as bare as yours

you often found yourself struggling to not stare at his impressive size

“darling…i’m gonna corrupt that pretty little head of yours. make you nothing but a mindless little cockslave”

at this point you don’t know if you should be frighten or extremely turned on

your mind was leading towards the latter

his gaze was hypnotising, he had a thumb placed on your bottom lip

prying your mouth open as he guided the tip of his cock past your lips

“take it…” he growled as you tried to at least keep your dignity, squeezing your mouth shut

it was no use, he was just too powerful

he forced his cock down your throat,

sighing with pleasure as you choked and sputtered around his size

his inked fingers weaved through your hair

tugging roughly as he fucked your throat

you could already feel his persuasion start to take effect

despite the roughness of his thrusts, the way his cock constricted your airways for seconds at a time

it felt like pure bliss

hot tears pricked the corners of your eyes at he hit the back of your throat

he groaned with pleasure as you gagged around his shaft

the sensation causing him to cum then and there

he buried his cock in the back of your throat, emptying his seed onto your tongue before pulling out

“fuck you-” you sputtered, gasping for air

it seems his persuasion still had yet to take effect

“oh little one, you’re about to”

he flipped you onto your stomach, propping your ass up

your chain bound wrists grasping at nothing but air

“how about i breed you like i’ve done with so many, make you carry my seed and birth my child?”

he teased your cunt with the tip of his cock

“how about i make you my little toy, i’ll keep you here. safe and sound, free to use you whenever i please?”

admittedly the idea did sound promising, however you did not disregard the situation and how it came to be

“go to hell, you bastard”

he peered down, noticing your cunt dripping with want

he chuckled to himself

“so rebellious…” he tsked. “it makes me crave you even more little one”

he forced his cock past your slick folds, instantly fucking deep into you

a low groan of pleasure escaped your lips, much to his amusement

oh no. he charm was working!

you could instantly feel yourself unwind, relax into his violent thrusts

“so fucking wet for me, darling. if i didn’t know any better i’d think you’d wanted me all along”

“sir…” you whimpered absentmindedly

malakai took note of the honorific, signalling that he knew he’d almost gotten you right where he wants

“what is it, little one? tell me what you want?”

he slammed into you roughly, prompting a response.

“please breed me sir…please fill me with your seed”

there it was.

his goal finally achieved

“of course, my angel…anything for you”

you bucked your hips back against his thrusts

your cunt full of his thick cock

crying in pleasure as he ruined you

oh how you begged for him

your screams echoed like haunting shrills through the forest

those poor townsfolk would think another victim had fallen to his mercy

but not you, you revealing in the pleasure

your were nothing more than mere holes for him to use and you loved it

“sir…” you panted breathlessly

the only response from his was a soft hum

“i’m gonna cum…”

“then cum” he proclaimed through lustful growls

your mind went blank, euphoria rushed through you

your stomach tightened then released with waves of your orgasm

gushing around his thick cock

“fuck yes, little one. make a mess for me”

he had fallen in love with the sight of you like this

naked, chained up, head buried into the dirt of the forest, pretty cunt cumming around his cock

“i’ll make sure to fill you up, my angel. you ‘re not leaving until a fuck my child into you”

“mmm…please sir…that’s all i want…”

he adored the sight, you now filled corrupted by his cock.

at his will, you’ll do anything he says

without announcing, he filled you with his seed

thick spurts of white coating your insides

breeding you with every last drop of his cum

he he pulled out of you, some of his cum dripping from your void

he gathered it onto his fingers, pushing it back into your cunt

making sure not to waste a single drop

“now…i own you”

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

[now-im-a-belieber]

christmas after all

ronald speirs x reader 

a/n: surprise! @softspeirs​ im your secret santa! thanks to @hbowardaily this was such fun! i hope you’ll enjoy this gift and your christmas time is an absolute blast!

taglist: @ask-you-what-sir  @tvserie-s-world @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @snafus-peckuh @infinitegalahad  @heygeneyoucalledmebabe  @toffeetm @fanfictionappreciationalbum @thoughpoppiesblow @embersjanuary  @softliebgott  @televisionboy  @anderperrysupremacy

══════════════════

The world turned fast and violently, and you grew to find yourself mixed up in a war at too young of an age. But like some sick joke, the holidays did not halt. They still approached as the calendar pages turned, and the day before Christmas was spent all too unceremoniously. You weren’t expecting fanfare in the middle of this battlefield of course. But deep down inside of your spirit, an innocent hope remained; that since the holidays were still dawning despite wartime, that somehow, it might feel like it.

Of course this seemed silly to realize. Hope was never useful in times like now. During war, moments settled in your stomach and ached in your chest. Weather burned your skin and deadened your nerves. Your limbs grew heavy and your hearing seemed heightened. Nothing much caught your eye, until you saw Ron. And that was when the first bit of dangerous hope started to bubble toward the forefront of your system.

Ron was enigmatic, a walking contraction in some odd way you felt only you could understand; but the guy had hardly ever been near enough to you for any of your predictions to prove sound or sane. His passing glance left a breath caught in your throat. His presence brushing past yours left you with a burning desire to follow fast in his trail. But Ron never seemed to notice you noticing him… Until, 

“Got a lighter?” He was right by your side out of the clear blue with his palm opened in your direction and his expectations waiting to be met. You clamored to find just the pocket your lighter had been hiding in, and you promptly handed the man the tool without another word exchanged. 

The shared moment played on a loop in your subconscious; and left you with even more questions for the man who seemed fond of leaving the answers about himself and his reputation up for interpretation. 

Time ticked on and Ron blended into the gradient of war time. He was a leader you were glad to follow. You would’ve been no matter what. And the thrill you let yourself feel when his eyes found yours through a crowd was sometimes the only warmth that you let spark through yourself, it kept you a little more alive. 

So it was either a Christmas miracle or curse, the way you’d been assigned to the same duty- to sit, and watch the horizon (together), hours before the sacred holiday commenced. 

The night was darkening around you, and the quiet seemed less threatening at hours like now. Even Germans needed their sleep. Even though you couldn’t really, you let yourself dream a little. Tomorrow was Christmas after all. But no one mentioned it, not as if it didn't matter but as if bringing up the potential mention of joy might spark extra doom upon you, a superstition. 

But then, Ron did. He could, he was immune to so many of wars effects. He carried the fears of others and seemed to thrive that way. So you couldn’t say you were truly surprised when he softly wondered in a whisper, what Christmas was like where you came from. His gentle voice carried through your ears like a song and you could nearly hear the smile in his tone. 

“We always go out and pick the perfect tree, one with a bit of charm, just the right size.” You recounted, gaze unfocused as your memory floated back to thoughts of the tradition. 

“Which would you pick out, now?” The soldier wondered.

You turned to Ron to consider his expression, it was blank to the passing glance but you saw the wonder in his gaze and the smirk ghosting his lips. You smiled considering his features and then turned to notice the trees around you as if you’d never really noticed them before. They had loomed over you and kept you safe, and now they reminded you of home. Good thing, too, since they were the faux walls that made up the home your company had made in the middle of this winter. They were too tall and wide and storied to have fit through any home’s door, and too respectable to string with popcorn and lighted candles. But you picked the smallest of them, one that's branches seemed to reach toward where you sat as if to say ‘choose me.’ So you did.

“That one.” You nodded in your tree’s direction. Ron followed your gaze and only then did he let his grin show. 

The two of you sat in shared quiet, glancing from the tree you’d pointed out back to the line far ahead from the foxhole you coward in now. Your mind had wandered to considerations further in the future beyond the holiday. Until Ron seemed to shift in his place at your side, and his peculiarly gentle voice rang in your ear once again. 

“Merry Christmas.”  The man held out a rolled up bit of fabric surly intended to bind a wound. A generous exchange in the middle of this frozen hell. But one that had not been prompted in the slightest.

“A bandage?” You wondered. 

“Unravel it.” Your fingers brushed Ron’s as you took his offer that rolled open with the slightest guidance. A cold metal clunked into your lap, and you didn’t have to wonder any longer.

“My lighter.” You laughed, turning to hold Ron’s gaze yet again. He’d already been looking at you. 

“I’ll think of a better gift next year.” He stated, making a blush burn your skin- because only he seemed able to bring you warmth in the bitter sting of winter.

“You’re a bold one, at long last.” You quirked a brow his way and couldn’t hide your stunned smile. He watched you all the same, the way he had been.

“I’d like to steal much more of your time and less of your things from now on.” The soldier declared, as the night stayed still around the pair of you, and snow drifted down from time to time. Because of Ron, it did feel like Christmas after all…

[breakonthru]

Hi 👋 can I request a Tommy Slater imagine? Where they’re both counsellors at camp and have crushes on each other but are too oblivious to realise, but then realise somehow?

Love your writing !

a/n: once again, i no longer write for fear street! i am writing the last of these requests i have now. thank you! also, i hinted at the nightwing shit bc im evil lol

it was quite obvious, really. you both always got so flustered around one another, and yet it seemed as if you two were completely blind to the fact the other had been head-over-heels for you this entire time.

somewhere down the line, however, you began picking up little pieces- hints at tommy’s adoration that you hoped hadn’t been a trick of the eye. his smiles that always lasted a second too long and the “friendly” hugs (that had really been an excuse to feel his arms- what? could really you be blamed for that?) that were always a little too tight, yes. you had hoped you didn’t read too into things.

so, when the day came when tommy asked to speak to you in private, your heart had begged your dreams to come true.

“so,” you cleared your throat. “why are we here? you know, um- color wars is soon.” your hands lay across your middle, fidgeting nervously.

“yeah, uh-“ tommy paused, his eyes shut. “sorry, i have a little bit of a headache.” he groaned, a palm plastered across his forehead.

your brows knit in concern. whatever he had to tell you could wait, couldn’t it? “let me feel.” you ushered him over, replacing his hand with yours. “you’re burning up,” you gasped, moving to hold his arms. “you okay?”

you had been close enough to feel his breath hitch, he knows. somehow, thomas slater had never been immune to you or your charms. “ye-yeah.” he sighed “peachy keen.” tommy murmured.

“peachy keen?” you smirked. “what’re you, f-“

“i’m in love with you.” tommy admitted.

“what?”

“i love you.” his eyes had been shut, his head craned directly away from you as if both the pain of his headache and the possible rejection had been too much for him to even look at you. it was hard for tommy to focus on anything, anymore.

“oh, i love you too.” you shrugged, a grin melting over your features.

“you-what?!” his head had snapped back over, tommy now acutely aware of how fucking soft your hands were.

“you heard me!”

and suddenly, your head had been thrust to his chest, the two of you trapped in those comforting embraces that had both hearts beating like a drum. it hadn’t been until at least ten minutes later someone had come looking for you, tommy’s hand in yours as you emerged the forest.

what a perfect night, you thought.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Im super interested in your idea of reader being a District 12 Mentor and being the only person ol lovely Haymitch trusts 👀👀 i wld like to request at least one fic pls sir 🙏🙏

Like, I imagine R also won through some way that the President Snow took as "rebellion", and faced the same tragedy as Haymitch. I personally love the idea of R being a gatherer before being reaped, and they had developed a prior immunity to the same poison berries that Katniss & Peeta ate, just from (accidentally?) eating them several times,, kinda like exposure therapy lol. Maybe R won by befriending everyone and getting them to eat the berries. Pseudo-pacifist victor? Lmao

Haymitch and R tag-team mentoring the tributes from District 12, and even though none of them make it out of the arena alive , R keeps mentoring even when Haymitch gives up hope, bc he wants them to have a fighting chance. Id love to see some sort of "get it together, dammit" talk

You dont need to include anything from this if you want lol, this is just my own HCs. Id love anything from you, my good sir! Soz for the long ask akdbdksn

Okay so sorry for this taking so long to respond but I love this idea! Nightlock berries probably wouldn't be a great fit since they're intensely poisonous and entirely fatal. Also this ended up turning into a full-blown fic here all on its own so take this as just backstory for the Mentor!reader lol

But okay, so like, Haymitch and the Mentor being like, terse allies at first. Probably the Mentor has been a victor for around 16 or 17 years, the winner of the 58th Hunger Games. Is probably like ten years younger than Haymitch. But like imagine getting Reaped and this 24 year-old man ends up deciding that you're probably not going to win. He's still handsome and muscular, although he's started to get a beer gut and his gray eyes have started to dull. He's been a victor for 8 years now. He's seen 16 kids die and felt the guilt of their deaths. He might even have been your first crush. And you get to the Capitol, scared out of your wits... and when he starts helping the girl you came to the Capitol with, you know that you're completely alone in this world. He gives you token support, but you know he's already picked who he'll support.

It's almost freeing, in a way. Knowing that you have no chance. There's no fear anymore for you. You glut on the Capitol's rich food, enjoying whatever you can of life's sparse pleasures before it is all taken from you. You laugh with Caesar Flickerman and his perma-grin (this year his suit and hair are dyed a vibrant green) and... you establish yourself as a personality. The Capitol likes you because you have charm. Wit. Serenity. You barely even mention the Games in your interview, which charms the citizens, and makes your opposition nervous about your nonchalance.

You dart into the rocky savannah landscape at first sound of the horn, escaping the Cornucopia bloodbath - but your next move shocks the viewers - you immediately call out to the District 4 boy who charged off in the same direction as you, and you wave for him to follow you. He's so confused - he has no idea what you're trying to do, but you simply raise your hands and say he can kill you if he wants... but wouldn't you two do better together? He knows he brings nothing to the alliance - he's not prepared for this landscape, he excels at fishing, not foraging in a dry grassland, but he knows he has no better options.

You charm a District 7 girl into joining the alliance and the three of you take the Capitol by storm, and the Gamemakers by surprise. You win their loyalty by forging food on days when your foraging and hunting runs short - your glutting at the Capitol gave you just enough extra body fat to be comfortable. She comes up with the idea to call each other by District number. To avoid getting attached. Eventually it becomes certain that they have to take the three of you to the end because even though none of you have actually killed anyone, and even though you flee at any sign of combat, your genuine friendship is just so compelling - and the President must ensure that it is seen to be divided when all the chips are down. District 7 and 4 send sponsor gifts to the three of you - Haymitch sends you nothing, until your counterpart from 12 appears in the sky.

Four likes to read whatever he can get his hands on when he isn't on the fishing boats. He likes the color green so much his older brother made him a bracelet from it. He gives you that bracelet one night, hand holding yours as though it's the only thing that exists. Seven whittles little figures for her little sisters. Her eyes go dull when she mentions her youngest sister has started to play Hunger Games with them. She was going to be married, she mentions. To a girl. Their families were both merchants and it would have helped them lower prices for the poorer in their District.

The Careers hunt you down, they kill the boy from 4 before turning on each other like wild dogs, and you and the girl from 7 make it to a rocky plateau just before the sky opens up and floods the entire savannah, making a beautiful setpiece for a final confrontation. You never learned his name. Even when they tell you later his name is Adon, you still think of him as Four.

She'll kill you, you have no doubt of that. The boy from 4 kissed you in the night, under a blanket where the cameras couldn't see. Whispered words of love under artificial stars and could barely keep from touching you, wanting as much contact as possible, knowing one of you would be gone in a matter of days. He might have spared you, forced the Gamemakers to intervene.

She won't. She has no choice. Her district, her girlfriend, her sisters - all are counting on her. She can't swim, and you aren't sure you can do well in this flood. There will be no running.

And then you tell her your name. Her eyes go dull. She hefts her spear and screams at you. Orders you to fight. Begs you to. Because she knows that if she kills you, if you don't defend yourself, it doesn't matter anymore. That she will always think of it as murder.

Before you can stop her she turns and throws herself into the water. Two minutes pass before the final cannon rings, and everything feels far away when they call your name and say the word Victor.

You could hate Haymitch for how he treated you but you feel so empty inside. You can't even cry. After you are checked out, your fluids and nutrients replenished, your scars erased, all you can do is just put your face into Haymitch's neck and let him hold you. You can't sob. You can't scream. The only thing you do is shake, violently and jerkily, as he tries to hold you still. Tears will come later. Sobs and screams and nightmares and this empty feeling will never really seem to go away.

And it doesn't end. You become the tribute who never threw a single blow, a legend in the capitol and a warning for the Gamemakers not to let it happen again. Your wit and charm again save you - you are beloved of the Capitol and of Caesar and they don't want to let you go. There are cries to make you a commentator at the next Games, but you're only turning sixteen and you've experienced things that would destroy someone twice your age. You are not unpunished. Like Haymitch before you, they kill everyone you've ever loved. Everyone else distances themselves from you. You are alone.

Except for Haymitch. Over the next 16 years you both are mentors for the tributes from Twelve. And you see him drink more, his cynicism turn to bitterness. You watch him as he gives up. When you turn twenty you move to the Capitol instead, living there, attending parties, returning to Twelve only to collect the tributes. You hate it there. Everything is grey. Everyone has given up.

In the Capitol there is vibrancy, there is life. There are people you can charm and outwit and bend to your will so that they'll give fortunes to save the kids you desperately try to keep alive. As long as Haymitch picks first you don't feel as guilty - you're just protecting the one left behind, not trying to indirectly kill off 23 other children. In a way you've given up, too. Maybe you gave up back when Haymitch first abandoned you. Maybe when Four died - you still wear his bracelet every day. Maybe when you and Haymitch lost both your tributes at the Cornucopia - you remember having to wash the vomit out of Haymitch's hair after the bender he went on that time. You don't drink. Maybe you're disgusted with him. Maybe you just want to punish yourself by never allowing your senses to be dulled to the pain.

Effie collects you from your apartment to prepare to make the journey to Twelve and you spend a moment checking that you're still you. And there, under the decade and a half of age and worry, under the silken suit with its neon trim, under the shakiness of your hands that has never left since you returned to District Twelve to find your mother's mouth overflowing with white rose petals and her hands filled with nightlock berries, under it all, it's still you. A sixteen-year-old pacifist who still thinks they could die at any moment. Because you've never really left the arena, have you? Every day is still a fight for survival, and not just for you.

Ladies and gentlemen, let the 74th Annual Hunger Games commence.

[miekasa]

feeling semi-called out because i wear my name tag on one of the pockets of my scrub top, like that's my waist not crotch but i'd probably get a side eye 😭😭 i have so many things and thoughts about the scouts in a hospital au, and omg all your posts about it is bringing it out!! hange in ortho taking in eren too. yes. hange amd all those tools especially the drill LMAO it's perfect. eren is scared at first, but he's also hammering and drilling away in no time. jean in pedia looking like he's holding a football as he holds the little babies 😭 levi being the unexpectedly fair and kind dude from neuro is a fave!! him in oncology is also very special to me tho, like it could be surgical or medical oncology, but he would be so good at both and his juniors would do a double take at how he isn't charming per se, but he has such a way with patients!!!!!! mikasa the smartest girl, endocrinology plus a masters in clinical genetics 🥰 connie in a nonpatient department 😭 i can see it, he is a disaster but an expert at reading those images!! sasha his partner down in pathology or smth, always gets reprimanded for having food out but no one smells out cancer in those specimens like her!!

also...imagine the reverse too, roommate au with levi, but this time he's the one in healthcare and you get to watch him strip at the door after work because of the pancetta. heh. lemme dote on (and bark at) you 🥰🥰

bye i finally had time to go on tumblr and this spilled out, im sorry 😭😭 -💉

Hange as Eren’s attending just makes SENSE!! Eren is hesitant (isn’t he supposed to fix things); but also because a part of him feels like he’s a disappointment for not taking interest in/being gifted at cardio (daddy issues galore). But Hange brings out the best in him, encourages him to use all that feistiness and personality to the best of his ability, and that being a doctor isn’t just about being technical and intelligent on paper; there’s real life application, and personality is a big deal! Honestly, if it weren’t for Hange, Eren might have honestly considered something else, even if he was this far along. They’re the best pair. The loudest too, with the most provocative music taste in the OR, but still the best.

Jean in pediatrics is so near and dear to me. You know he loves the babies so much he’s scared shitless about dropping them that’s why he look so awkward holding them at first. It just takes some practice tho, and soon he’s a pro. It’s kinda... sexy to see how good he is with children, and how easily he can calm a crying infant, and explain complex things to a toddler. He’s such a dream. He knows the white coat thing is a bit pretentious too, but damn if he doesn’t look good in it. 

Levi in neuro... it’s just so GOOD. Of course he of all people would handle the brain and all its complexities, and handle it well. Not only is he a dedicated surgeon, but he’s done his fair share of research, his contributions are crazy, even if they’re (literally) microscopic analyses. He’s pretty decorated, but he never flexes it. When his residents find out they kinda freak, “What the hell is he doing mentoring us?? I’m pretty sure this guy is gonna have a newly discovered brain activity/region named after him in 5 years at least. He’s published in Nature. THRICE.” All that, and he’s good with patients, too, it’s unfair. He’s not peppy or “nice,” to them, but he’s gentle; he’s got that charm about him that doesn’t bullshit, but doesn’t fear monger, and is careful to explain things in layman’s terms so his patients fully understand what’s going on. And when his patients are children? God. Godddd. 

Mikasa best girl, Levi is/was her attending, at least for a period of time, and he never said it but she was his favorite. She’s smart, competent, flexible, and doesn’t have an ego about it. Truly, a blessing. She still/frequently goes to him for advice, and she’s the only resident to ever enter Levi’s office for a non-offense. Just to talk... maybe even have lunch and talk shit about Eren and Hange’s playlist. Mikasa wants to bitch about a difficult patient, and Levi reminds her about HIPAA violations... but gossips (without names) nonetheless. 

So right about Connie in a non-patient department PLEASE. To think Connie considered EMS at first and swiftly shut that idea down when he saw a real life broken bone protruding through skin for the first time, he was SICK LMFAOOO. The bone part was cool to him tho, so radiology turned out to be a great alternative; that way he doesn’t have to see and blood or severed skin, so problem solved! It’s easy to think he’s a slacker or a dunce, but give him labs or imaging to analyze and he’s got it done with ease and accuracy. 

Sasha as a nurse is precious, but I can totally see her in pathology. She literally studies disease for a living/interacts with people with these diseases and other illnesses and is still like, “Can’t believe the human immune system was caught slipping like this. Embarrassiiiiiiiing. Simply be vaccinated.” The rage she feels when she hears about parents not vaccinating their children... Sasha’s usually pretty cheery and always finds fun and hope in her work, but that’s one thing that’ll set her off. 

The reverse roommates au!!! I see the vision!!! Also might I offer: they both work in healthcare, maybe at different hospitals, but kind of on opposite shifts (Levi in the morning, OC in the afternoon/night), all to come home and shit talk their respective hospital boards and healthcare systems. Mutual understanding of their situation and finding time to dote on the other even tho they’re barely holding it together themselves. Peak romance

[happikattwuzheere]

was gonna try and do multiple characters in one post but nope! i have too much to say. also the pictures are all different sizes so its rly hard to get the photoset to look appealing, so we’re starting w/ blue. and also a colored pic of what adam looks like when he’s not a deer. boy’s tryin not to stand out. which goes great up for him right up until it doesn’t. lmao. i’ll talk a bit about him too w/ stuff that didnt get mentioned in the starter post about him and gansey, but this is mostly gonna be about blue. 

SO. 

there’s this fey entity, right? i don’t have a name for them, but they’re not...they didnt START the fey/human conflict, but they are benefiting from it, politically speaking? and when maura was younger, despite other witches being like “girl dont choose sides, we’re witches, we guard boundaries but we don’t choose sides,” was hotheaded and brash and went “ok but fuck that though” and one thing led to another and she ended up getting a curse on her firstborn. Oops. that’s where the kissing curse comes from, here; i’ll get into that much later in a text post probably but gansey’s survivor’s guilt thing doesnt come from him actually dying in this au it’s from something Else, but blue will still kill him if she kisses him, just, for different reasons, it’s an actual curse this time and not something to do with the nature of who they both are. 

her father’s still a tree light, but like, she actually knows that from the outset? because. they live in cabeswater. the tree lights are all around and accept her as one of their own even if she can’t turn into a tree, and as a result of that, she’s got some cool perks. 

a) extremely resistant and/or outright immune to a Lot of fey bullshit 

b) still boosts psychic energies and magical powers like in canon

c) the absolute safest person to be traveling in cabeswater ever, because the forest itself loves her, and also if you mess with her within the borders of cabeswater a bunch of tree lights will physically manifest and be like “hey buddy wanna think twice about that”

but she can’t use magic herself, still, which actually works in the favor of herself and the coven--witchcraft is in a sort of weird spot, culturally, where it’s both feared and often hated, but also understood to at times be necessary, especially by rural peoples like those of the village. im taking a very discworld spin on the witchcraft, because i love discworld and you can’t stop me, and so the attitude is, like. its frightening ancient magic and the church hates it but when there’s an emergency and someone’s on the border between life and death, or something is trying to pass into this world from another, etc etc etc, then you gotta suck it up and call on a witch because they’re the only ones who can deal with those things. so. the coven is tolerated, both because it’s too big and powerful to actually fight but also because it’s extremely needed when you live in a village right next door to fey lands. you NEED someone watching the border. however that doesn’t mean anyone wants to be seen publicly talking to a witch--but blue’s not a witch. she’s a witch’s daughter, but she’s not a witch herself, which is a step removed enough that she can go into town and run errands and also people will maybe pull her discretely aside and tell her if something’s coming up that the coven should know about, and it all works very neatly with her acting as a sort of liaison. very important role she plays, which is why gansey tries talking to her after his initial attempt to speak with the coven directly fails. 

speaking of the coven itself: i’ve been calling it the fox way coven, even tho it probably wouldn’t be called that because there’s no road called fox way that the coven is built on, it’s a big magic house out in the fairy forest, BUT they do have a fox theme because i love foxes and this is a gift i have been given. if people have familiars in this coven, they’re foxes rather than cats, because as wonderful as cats are u cant have them and foxes in the same house that will go bad. but also there’s a v small number of them, like maybe three or four total out of the much higher number of women living there, who are fey blooded like adam, but who become foxes rather than adam’s deer. persephone is one of these! (it’s worth noting the reason why they become the same animal is because of a combination of coincidence, intentional theming, and mostly just because like, virtually all of the residents there aside from persephone are related to either maura or calla) 

anyway the point is, because of this, blue’d seen enough feyblood transformations that when, one day when she was 9 or 10, on a visit to town, she saw the most distressed, disoriented fawn wobbling around frantically and was able to very quickly recognize that that was, in fact, a person who had probably turned into a deer for the first time, and responded by very calmly informing him that she knew who could help and leading him home. this is where those last two pictures come from, and how adam’s apprenticeship started. 

like, there was a lot of arguing from the witches immediately--of course we’re going to teach him how to become human again but we aren’t really going to take him on in the coven are we? he’s a boy, he’s some local kid we know nothing about, what happened to keeping it in the family, he’s the wrong animal and we’ve got a whole thing going on--at which point persephone parted everyone like the red sea, took one look at adam, went “mine now” and despite a lot of grumbling that was the end of it. she took him on a bit of a tour of cabeswater a few days later, after he’d had time to think it over, and he felt so drawn to the forest that he agreed to the apprenticeship.

so he’s technically persephone’s apprentice but like in actual practice he’s being taught by the entire coven lmao, ANYWAY

adam being adam also had a backup plan for trying to get out of the village--even at ten he figured witchcraft might be a first way out of there, he was already thinking about it, but by thirteen when the good ole abuse started (and at which point the last whispers of dissent died out very quickly amongst the coven, nope, adam is one of us now, do you want us to very threateningly hang out in your front yard sometime because we can do that--what do you mean no, let us do this,) he was also like. i dont think this is a guarantee of getting out of here i need a second job. and the thing is, as was mentioned in the original post, the fey blood also means adam’s got issues with iron; it’ll poison him if he’s stabbed with it but it also reacts to his skin touching it like a hot stove. he’s fine if there’s a layer between his skin and the iron, but if he touches it directly, it’s Bad. so ofc this headstrong idiot takes an open spot a t a metalworker’s in the village because adam is the king of making bad decisions. the witches have a betting pool on how long it’ll take him to out himself. “its fine i’ll wear gloves,” he says. “it’s the perfect disguise no one will expect someone with fey connections to work near so much iron,” he says. “i have everything perfectly under control,” he says.

anyway he totally forgets to wear gloves before grabbing an iron tool while his dad and his boss are both in the store and in clear view of him and that’s why he was getting chased by hunters when gansey rescued him 

also he and blue tried dating when they were like 13-14 and it ended about as badly as in canon and they made up later and by the time the story starts they’ve settled into very much being weird siblings. adam starts hanging out with gansey initially to try and basically spy on him, figure out why he’s here, but ends up rly liking the guy and deciding his reasons are sincerely to try and help people, and he tells this to blue who starts immediately accusing him of having a crush on the lordling and being a class traitor, because she does NOT like gansey at this point and really the nobility all prefer wizards to witches which is a stupid idiot decision and frankly the fact that this lordling is apparently enamored by some random deer is hilarious to her, but even moreso is the fact that adam actually defends the lordling to her, like, “wow adam its hilarious that the lordling’s friend thinks that you have charmed the lordling because from my perspective it looks the other way around” “shut uuuup you’re not listening im serious, like, yeah ok he put his foot in his mouth really hard when he talked to you but im telling you i dont think the whole i-wanna-understand thing is an act” “idk if i can trust you through those rose tinted glasses buddy. tell me again about that time he called you princely?” “oh my god” 

this is turning into rambling but. thats the gist of the witches and blue esp thank u for coming if u made it this far here’s a bonus persephone fox 

[moody-bloosh]

moth to a flame (Risotto Nero)

passione project time, i know i haven’t finished any of the series im working on but i have no self control so here it is. wow, im so so happy to finally be able to share this story with you all, i’ve been working on this since 2019 and i am so so glad that this first part is done. y’all know this was supposed to be a story with abbacchio. but while i was coming up with the finer details of what i wanted the story to be i felt like risotto fit the story more. so anyway here it is. also this is a bit of a spicy piece, so please be warned. I think this is one of the heaviest fics I’ve ever written so please skip this if you are feeling faint. 

also finally i wrote a cheating au with risotto! but this time, you guys are the ones cheating!! i had another one planned but mayhaps, please enjoy this food for the time being. uwu 

i hope you all enjoy this beCAUSE I SURE DID ENJOY WRITING THIS SUFFERING. also fem!reader im sorry i couldnt write this with gender neutral pronouns :( 

content warning: cheating, domestic abuse

pairings: (mentioned) Diavolo x Reader, Risotto Nero x Reader 

“We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.” - Aemon Targaryen, A Game of Thrones 

You are not his.

He knows that, he knows that very well. But still, he tempts fate. Because what is he to do when the love of his life belongs to another man? Belongs in fact, to the strongest man in all of the land: the Emperor, himself, Diavolo.

It is routine for him now, to visit you long after the Emperor has left your bedchambers. He clasps the jar of soothing balm in his hands and when he is sure that there are no more prying eyes trained on you or him. He slowly knocks on the door. He makes sure to vary each knock so that you know it is him and no one else. 

He hears you shuffle around your room and then your small voice comes through the door, telling him to, “please, come in.” 

Risotto steels himself; he has seen more horrific things in his life, in his line of work, it is inevitable. But he can never quite get used to the sight of your bruised up body as you open the door for him. 

As always, your smile is radiant, beautiful, unhindered even by the bruises that dot your body. He brings a trembling hand over your cheek, to brush against the bright red mark left undoubtedly by the emperor’s own hand. You lean into his cold touch, a soothing balm against your burning cheek. And your heart grows heavy at the thought of him standing outside your door, privy to all your crying and pleading. 

“I am sorry you had to witness all that unpleasantness, Risotto.”  

He kisses you on your forehead as gently as he can. So that he doesn’t cause you any more pain than necessary. 

“I am sorry I cannot protect you from him, your majesty.” 

And though some part of you hates it, some part of you wants him to just take you away. You know that doing so would only be a death warrant. No, he could not protect you from Diavolo now. But someday soon, if Heaven was kind enough. Soon you could do as you wished, but for now you had to endure. You had to survive. 

Some day, some day Diavolo would receive his comeuppance. But for now, you would hide your fangs and bide your time. 

it was much easier passing time when you had Risotto by your side, after all. 

When Risotto enters your chambers he is no longer just your bodyguard. He is your beloved, the only man who has ever treated you with a shred of sincere kindness since you entered the palace. You can still remember the day he had been introduced to you. All doom and gloom, a monster in the shape of a man, you had thought. And Diavolo had smirked at the sight of your fear. 

You were so frightened by his strange eyes, but upon closer inspection. You found something familiar lurking within them. So even though it frightened you, you resolved to be kind to him, you decided to give him all the love you were not given a chance to devote to the Emperor. 

Because you saw little parts of yourself in him, someone broken, someone lost, someone cast out. And you had hoped that perhaps, if you could befriend him, you could stave off the loneliness that you believed you would be resigned to. 

For someone like him, who knew only of taking and destroying, for you to gift him with softness and tenderness, how could he ever have stood a chance? Before he knew it, you had planted yourself firmly into the labyrinth of his heart. Where once he had hoped only to serve you, to protect you… He found himself wanting you, desiring you for himself. 

Though in the past, he had attempted to deny his feelings for you, he gradually found that it was as futile as attempting to count the stars in the sky. He was drawn irrevocably to you, the sweet Empress with a smile that could warm even his cold, blackened heart. 

The two of you were permitted to be together only under the cover of darkness. In the pitch black secrecy that night offered, he could call you his and you could call him wholly and truly yours. 

He treats your wounds and bruises as calmly as he can though it breaks his heart each and every time to see you so battered. Every fresh bruise has him imagining how he will kill Diavolo, how he will make him suffer as you have suffered. And this he will never admit out loud, but some deep, dark part of him marvels at how you have managed to last this long. He thinks that perhaps in some twisted way, even Diavolo, himself, was not immune to your charms. 

He takes on a dangerous expression as he considers the Emperor. The man who was the primary cause for all your suffering. And you reach out to him with a soft touch, you ruffle his hair playfully and bring him out of his dark thoughts. 

“Tonight, let us not think of displeasing things, my love. I don’t want to waste any of these precious moments I have with you, after all.” 

As you leaned in to kiss him, he would hold you. And when you pulled back for a breath, he would pepper feather light kisses all over your face. He would touch you with a softness you never would have known that he would be capable of. Some days he indulges, he holds you while you sleep. Some days he is weak and with your permission, he gives in to his more carnal desires. Usually, he holds your hand as you fall asleep. 

And always, before you drift off to sleep, you tell him. 

“I love you.” 

Risotto always tells you that he does not deserve your love. But you had simply thought that such declarations were simply part of his reserved, humble nature. 

You had no idea that it was because there was a weight around his heart that prevented him from truly reciprocating your affections. He had a secret, a secret not even you were allowed to know. 

But he was your darling, beloved Risotto… Your only friend, your only ally. 

He could never hurt you… could he? 

“Serve the Empress well as her bodyguard,” Diavolo instructs. 

He doesn’t even bother to look at Risotto when he issues his commands. His gaze is trained only on the portrait of you set haphazardly in a corner of his room. Later, he will instruct some servant to set it up properly before your arrival. He had to keep up appearances after all. 

“And when the time comes that I have no more need of her…” 

Risotto keeps his eyes trained to the floor. He is impassive, already used to whatever outlandish thing the Emperor demands of him. These days he wonders, if he had known you sooner, would he have reacted differently? 

“Eliminate her.” 

Risotto bows, “as you wish, Imperatore.” 

That night replays in his mind like bleeding out on the floor. It cuts into him, day in and day out, never fully healing. He feels the wound grow deeper whenever you smile and look at him like he is all the good in the world, whenever he feels your soft breath against his chest as he holds you on nights that are too difficult, whenever you tell him you love him… 

He holds you tighter then and you remain blissfully unaware as to his true function. You think that he is simply being sweet with you, so that will prompt you to hug him back. You nuzzle against him and you tell him that you love him. Not knowing that your kindness, your tenderness, only twists the knife lodged in his heart. 

“I will protect you, _____,” Risotto tells you quietly. “I swear it.” 

“I have no doubt of it,” you say, a radiant smile blooming on your lips as you look up at him. “I feel safest when I am with you, my love.” 

He kisses you then. He feels guilty, he feels delirious, he is so in love with you. That is why, he doesn’t want to tell you, he doesn’t know how to tell you. And how could he? How could he bring himself to reveal that he was sworn to end your life should the Emperor wish it? So he kisses you instead, as if that will solve everything. 

He hopes that you can forgive him for his selfishness. 

He loves you. He loves you more than anything in this world. 

And that is why he cannot tell you. 

All he can do is hope that the day should never come that he is to end your life. 

Until then he will serve you with all his might, he will comfort you when you weep in his arms, he will kiss you with all the passion he keeps barely restrained, he will bring you the medicine you so desperately need to treat the scars and bruises that pop up more and more frequently when your husband visits. And on nights where the Emperor is far away and there are no eyes trained on the two of you, he keeps you company, he keeps your bed warm.

He is your bodyguard, sworn to protect you even at the cost of his own life. And yet, he does not even know how to protect you from himself. 

[glare-gryphon]

drabble asks! #3 “I know it hurts.”

I can’t get the read more to work on mobile im so sorry about the wall if text.

The only noise in the bathroom is the dull roar of the tub as it fills, the lazy curls of the steam as it rises from the water a counterpoint to the tension that lingers through Anakin’s body. He stands by the bathroom door, arms folded protectively across his chest despite the way it pulls at the wounds on his back; Ben kneels by the tub, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows to keep them dry while he swirls his hand in the water, testing the temperate. A pointless gesture, Anakin thinks solemnly, his eyes darting from the floor to the once-pristine sleeves that are now dappled with a deep crimson. The same color stains Anakin’s clothes, his hair, his skin. This is nothing unusual, another part of the ritual, but he finds himself staunchly avoiding looking at Ben as he wears it. It turns his stomach, when he does, and he can’t quite figure out why. Perhaps it is the intrusion on his own design, blood and gore and savagery baptizing him anew every time he spills crimson across the floor of some dark, abandoned corner of Coruscant. Or perhaps, he thinks a bit manically, it is the staining of the man himself that brings him such distress, like a holy icon battered by the ravages of war.

Ben Kenobi: the god of Anakin’s own personal church. Not an alpha, but The Alpha. The one Anakin had known he was destined for the moment he set foot in the man’s lecture hall and drank of the scent that lingered in the space around him. Precise and poised and perfect, the way alphas rarely are but are certainly meant to be. He is fantasy come to life, an ideal given breath, and Anakin can barely stand to share the same air with such perfection.

“Aren’t you going to call the police?” He hears himself rasp into the space between them, and curses himself for breaking the spell.

Ben glances over his shoulder from where he monitors the tub’s progress, and quirks his brow as if to ask: should I?

Yes, is certainly the rational answer to such a question. It is generally considered the appropriate action to take upon discovering one man beating another to death in a filthy, disused alleyway. Especially when the one doing the beating is an omega, their victim an alpha, a crime that would certainly leave Anakin tagged and institutionalized in some padded cell for the remainder of his years should the authorities ever find out. Just the thought makes him shiver, despite the almost cloying warmth of the bathroom, but Ben just watches him with the same passively curious kind of expression he’s worn since he coaxed Anakin off the stilling body of his victim and tucked him into the safety of his car. Then he turns away and resumes watching the tub, tipping a bottle of something into the water that bubbles when he stirs it until a thick layer of foam covers the surface. Apparently satisfied, he turns off the tap and reaches for a towel, drying his hands as he rises.

“You may keep your undergarments on, if you wish,” Ben declares, and there is something sharp behind his eyes when he finally looks up at Anakin that has the omega swallowing dryly and fumbling for the hem of his shirt. It isn’t predatory, the way most alpha’s eyes would be when waiting for an omega to undress. Just...expectant. As though he can think of no plausible reason Anakin should question his command.

The alpha does, at least, offer him some semblance of privacy. Ben turns as he undresses, opening the first aid kit resting on the edge of the sink and busying himself with sorting through its contents. Anakin didn’t sustain too many injuries during his fight, but he knows there are a few that will need some medical attention. The ones on his back are the worst, and he can’t help the wince the crosses his face when he pulls his shirt off, fabric peeling away the blood dried to his skin and the edges of his wounds. His pants follow, dropped in a heap on the tile floor, and Anakin pauses with his fingers fiddling with the waistband of his boxers. He considers leaving them on, but the thought of wet fabric clinging to his waist and thighs is enough to add them to the pile of discarded clothing at his feet. Ben has already watched him kill a man tonight—a little nudity is likely the least of his concerns, now.

He has to suppress a hiss when he sinks into the hot water, whatever Ben added to make bubbles stinging in Anakin’s open wounds. He can’t allow the weakness; something primal at his core warns him against allowing an alpha like Ben to discover such a vulnerability. A vulnerable omega is one easily taken advantage of, and though Anakin uses vulnerability to lure his prey to their demise, *true* weakness is unacceptable. True weakness will get him killed. If not by his prey, then certainly by this alpha. There is something lurking beneath Ben’s charming smile that Anakin has yet to bear witness to; he would rather do so as a spectator and not a victim.

Ben returns with a wash rag, dipping into the soapy water and beginning to carefully clean away the filth and grime that cover Anakin’s skin. He does not comment on the omega’s nudity—the implicit trust it represents, though his eyes do spark when Anakin shivers at his touch. No alpha, no matter how impressive their self-control, is completely immune to the fairest sex. Still, Ben sweeps the washrag across his upturned face and bared neck in even, smooth strokes. His hands do not shake, his breathing remains even, even as that fascinating something dances behind the alpha’s eyes.

“You will have to be diligent with these wounds,” he murmurs, wiping away the evidence of Anakin’s misdeeds from his bruised and bloody knuckles. “They’re not terribly deep, but should you neglect them, they could very easily become infected.”

“I’m always careful,” Anakin replies, and Ben hums his quiet approval.

“Turn for me. I need to see your back.”

Anakin stiffens at this, the first real hesitation he’s had since catching sight of Ben in the alleyway. His traitorous heart picks up speed, and he knows the alpha can hear it. Fear, the primal kind—the kind that draws alpha predators like blood in the water draws sharks—makes his breath quicken for a short, terrifying moment before he can wrestle himself back under control. The worst of his wounds are on his his back, the gouges need to be tended to, but showing an alpha his vulnerable back is something any omega knows better than to do.

“I understand this may be an uncomfortable situation for you,” Ben assures. “I know it hurts, but your wounds need to be treated.”

Laying hands on his shoulders, Ben turns him with gentle pressure. Anakin is still not entirely sure it’s a good idea, but he forces himself to try and swallow down the fear and trust in the cool disinterest Ben has maintained through the course of their every prior interaction. This terror does not carry the same thrill as that of the fight; the exposure of his bonding glands to an unmated alpha could carry a much high consequence than a savage death. It is strange to find that his interest in this alpha and his fear of reciprocation are not mutually exclusive concepts.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Ben murmurs, as though sensing the direction of thoughts.

“Not anymore,” Anakin answers hollowly, staring into the tainted bathwater and tasting on his tongue the thought that’s lingered at the back of his mind since he was seated in Ben’s passenger seat and watching the city lights pass by.

Thoughts of tarp and rope and a sharp knife. Of the chemical sting of bleach in his sensitive nose and the watering of his eyes. Of a body, neatly tucked in to a well-lined trunk, dumped into a dark corner of the harbor. Of all these things fitting together in his mind like pieces of a familiar puzzle: he was not the only one hunting, this night.

It was no accident that Ben had stumbled upon him.

For a moment, the alpha’s hands go still against his back. Anakin bites down hard enough on his lip to draw fresh blood, waiting for a response. Denial, perhaps, or a quick end to his life. There is a switchblade in Ben’s pocket; he hadn’t seen the alpha remove it, before preparing Anakin’s bath.

He’s surprised, then when one of Ben’s hands squeezes tightly at his shoulder, the other skipping down the ridges of his spine. “No,” the alpha rasps, and Anakin’s breath hitches at the tone. “No, not anymore.”

[chococustard]

((I’m really sorry if I’m becoming too annoying with asks and all that!!! U don’t have to respond!!)) Kind of random, but out of curiosity, do you have any A/B/O AU family headcanons?? I honestly would LOVE to know more about all of them!! Thank you sm!!

!!! NOT AT ALL I ACTUALLY GET SUPER HAPPY WITH YOU LIKING THEM SO HUSH YOU’RE NEVER A BOTHER ASK WHATEVER YOU WANT

legit i have a shit ton of notes in my notebook with my horrible hand writing and basically nonsense notes and while writing the edited ver a) like the dingus i am i accidentally clicked a thing and lost all the answers b) the internet dies haaah

SO YEAH THERE’S A SHIT TON UNDER THE CUT

MIDORIYAs

mido worries about his mom getting overwhelmed by paparazzi so as a pro hero he doesn’t really give off his name to the public and the name midoriya kinda just fades over time

i’m guessing heroes give birth in secluded hospitals who won’t give off their info yeah? but mido’s location got leaked somehow and yu got kidnapped by villains which then todo fucks shit up and got her back so since then they’ve been kinda worried about safety and shit

inko stands in as guardian for school related stuff most often since todo and deku are mostly busy

idk why i kinda hc todo’s mom as an ice dancer or something (look at how that boy works with ice that does not come from endeavor) she used to take the kids to the ice rink and teaches them to skate. todo still holds that place as a safe space and goes to the one a few train stations away from campus after he gets his shit together. he took deku there for their date and ends up also taking the girls there too.

rei gets out at some point, as she gets used to being in society again she stays with inko (and all might//SHOT) at deku’s old room when he got a place with todo. she gets along with them and also mitsuki. they have tea together and share embarrassing stories about their kids it’s great

yu and tsumu plays mostly at tsumu’s house which was closer to the school, they hit it off super well and they even talk about each other to their families, todo and deku are super relieved to know their girl has another friend. yu actually met mirio and tamaki already but are not aware they know her parents

so tsumu one day just “hey you wanna come over for dinner we’re having bbq you should bring your family over!” and they do come over cause why not i guess and then the 2 families meet and damn

their balcony is filled with potted plants courtesy of inko. there’s also a small bottle with a single morning glory flower, wrapped in a blue ribbon and a duck cutout stuck into the dirt

no one uses watashi in the house, yu uses boku, chi uses ore, yu calls them oka-sama and otou-sama and generally uses more formal speech while chi uses the more common -san honorific, not sure if this is relevant of anything but yeah. also todo calls deku bunny from when they started courting (2nd year)

they have a thing with nicknames. obviously deku uses -chan, but also

BAKUGOUs

baku and kiri works as partners tho sometimes kiri helps out with the fatgum office, they have an office at home and basically a small gym

meat. so much meat. there’s always meat in the fridge

baku and kyou both eat with so much fucking spice and chilli kiri’s basically kinda used to it to a point. but if they have the girls over (like when deku’s in heat//SHOT) they have to have extra of the low impact portion. one time chi took the spicy portion by accident, apparently she’s immune

they’re an outdoor family basically. whenver they can they go mountain climbing when kyou is old enough. baku’s chili peppers kept getting stolen by animals, he tries every time to blow them up

baku and kiri dated and courted first, but deku and todo mated first cause of a quirk related accident. but then they got engaged and married first because baku is fucking petty.

baku’s parents fucking love kiri he’s a good boy he’s glad baku somehow ended up with someone so great. baku however have to holds himself back to be a good boy™ to kiri’s more traditional family. he managed somehow

when baku’s parents meet kiri’s they’re shocked to find how they find baku as a charming and wonderful young alpha and they’re glad their eijiro found someone who accepted him. SO MITSUKI OUT OF SPITE INVITES THEM A LOT AND BAKU HAS TO ENDURE SO MUCH SHIT

BAD NEWS FOR HIM CAUSE THEY GET ALONG

“MRS KIRISHIMA WOULD YOU LIKE TOO SEE KATSUKI’S BABY PICTURES?” BAKU, INTERNALLY DETONATES

baku ended up basically deaf so he has to learn sign language, kiri the ever supportive bf learns too, as well as their families, and they also thought it to kyou

friday nights are mario kart nights, no holds bar

the rest of the baku squad (and camie) often visits but since they converted the extra room to baku’s office and their couch isn’t all that big they have to sleep at mido’s place, or borrow their extra futon

kiri, when asked if he wants another kid, “holy shit no it was so hard to get my body back into shape ok and also how the heck do you even hold yourself as a hero not to save people IZUKU SOMEHOW DID IT MORE THAN ONCE IM STILL SHOCKED”

when kyou got his quirk he accidentally burned his bed, then screamed to dad and pop hOLY SHIT I GOT MY QUIRK

he was so proud of it at first and shows it off at schooltho when it's found out that he has little control with it, as lava often seeps through his skin and out of his mouth at random times, almost hurting the other kids, the at first popular kyou was feared by his peers, until yu got her quirk late in the year and was able to put out his lava whenever

"you're not scared of me? even before you got your quirk?" "why would i it's not like you did it on purpose" also like she's used to baku. that goes along for years until kyou presented. yu comes over after school with meds and stuff, but kyou, out of his mind and his body out of his control, attacked her, trapping her in a cascade of hot burning lava. she managed to escape with some mild burn and they kinda got awkward for a while. they're cool eventually

however when yu presented the fear of that happening again got way fucking worse

YAOYOROZUs

momo and kyouka wants to be independant yeah, so they got their own apartment (more of a penthouse if anything) with their own money

a note, dams are gender neutral pronouns for moms, sires for dads

itsu calls momo dad, kyouka mom

since he’s mute since birth, in addittion to sign language, as his interest with music grows they make a system for basic stuff he can make with notes and sequenses as answers where he’s unable to use signs

momo however also makes a list of codes for specific teas

he carries around at least a whistle or kazoo, mostly he uses a harmonica

momo’s parents worries at first about enrolling him into a normal school but momo and kyouka themselves are convident their kid can get along with the other kids

they right, even without his connection as their kid

is he a goth? not really, he just really likes the color black

he also like birds, he has a bunch of photos and encyclopedias of birds in his room

kyouka often holds charity concerts, momo and itsu always comes to support her

IIDAs

it surprised everyone when iida, the rule abiding iida, had ochako pregnant before they got married, so with the power of the iida family they got engaged and married so fucking quick

tho really it was an accident, ocha misscounted her birthcontrol pills during her heat and they’re already courting anyway and their familes are already aware of each other and get along well so whatever

HE WAS ALSO LATE FOR HIS BIRTH BECAUSE HE HAD TO FUCKING OBEY THE GODDAMN TRAFFIC LAW

also i need someone to get me like, you see iida and ura, they cute right, pure and soft. but holy shit when ocha’s in heat she takes no shit and is basically a goddamn dominatrix

they, deku and todo shares a hero agency, so basically when tenma was born they made a baby space for him in their shared office with toys and shit and the sidekicks can play with him, they’re putty in his chubby hands. same thing happened with the tododeku kids. the sidekicks are all okay with this

there’s not many support and rescue heroes, so ocha often gets called in as an instructor at ua, she brings tenma for lessons for her students to safe

tenma likes to hang around the future heroes, he likes to play hero

“senpai senpai do you need help!” “ooh ye see i think i accidentally blew my shoe way up that tree can you get it for me?” “YES!!”

he takes martial arts lessons as early as from 3 years old, as a teenager he’s able to fight midair

TOGATAs

so like not sure yet, tamaki’s either an omega or beta so tsumu is either theirs biologically or adopted so

either way if she’s their biological kid, during his heat tamaki used his quirk when doing the dirty so the genes stick and mutates and shit

aNYWAY

tamaki doesn’t really like making appearances on tv and in public, he even rarely sign for merch deals, tsumugi often finds knock off merch of him and she likes to get it as a kind of joke cause the design was actually kinda funny, mainly this actually

she also likes to find show cameos of him, that too was hilarious

she loves hanging out with aunt nejire they often go shopping, she’s the one who bought her the knock off suneater shirt

“lol you wanna know why your dad’s hero name is suneater?” “what?=D” “tha-” tamaki: NEJIRE I SWEAR TO GOD

also like mirio totally acts like the protective big bro to eri when someone likes her

she likes buff/big bodies, mostly to sleep on, she sleeps on mirio and mr fatgum

she has a bunch of miruko merch cause she’s a rabbit and has strong ass legs and she may or may not have a gay awakening cause of that

here is, in fact, said bootleg shirt

she likes the giant gaping mount

SHINSOUs

SHINSOU’S AN UNDERGROUND HERO FIGHT ME

he teaches the hero course and LIKE HIS DAMN DAD IS A LITTLE SHIT TO HIS CLASS

so he’s the one who changed the entrance exam to make it more fair for kids with quirks that are not flashy his, so the robots are then deligated to the recomendation exam kids while the regular ones gets a basically game of hide and seek with his hero buddies and the older students

i actually have this for his hero costume back from goddamn january i dont even know

i, i have nothing for fuyusei they met at the hospital and they hit it off and that’s….. it

i have even lESS SHIT FOR OJITOORU

ALSO LIKE I FUCKING LOVE THE IDEA THAT ALL MIGHT RUNS A VILLAIN REHAB FACILITY OR SOMETHING WITH ALL HIS MONEY, YOU KNOW, FROM BEATING VILLAINS TO SAVING VILLAINS, AND LIKE INKO HELPS WITH TALKING TO THEM IM WEAK

[imsopaigeyo]

Prey: Part 1

Shawn Mendes Fan Fiction 

Three Years from the present day.

July 4th 2015. The first meeting.

“I’m really happy you’re coming out tonight Marcy” Bradly said to me as he was spinning in my desk chair and playing with the pencil I was previously using to do homework. We had been friends since the day my family moved in next door. Almost 10 years of friendship.

“Have I ever missed one of your famous 4th of July Parties? No matter how much they push me out of my comfort zone.” I joked, but there was an incredible amount of truth behind my words.

Bradly was friends with the most popular kids, not just in our school, but within our entire town. He was one of the most charismatic and likable people that I knew. That translated to him being friends with anyone and everyone. I however was the girl that knew all the answers but never raised her hand. I would often peal the wood around my pencil tip to avoid having to make the dreaded trip to the pencil sharpener in fear of drawing too much attention. These parties caused me an insane amount of anxiety, however this was for Bradley.

“Well considering this is the only time of year you actually socialize with anyone other than me or your family, I don’t feel bad about it. You need it.” Bradley flashed his glorious smile. I have almost grown immune to his charm over our many years of friendship.

“I talk to Addy” I pointed out, more pleased with myself than I probably should have been.

“She’s my girlfriend! You are practically forced to talk to her!” Bradley laughed as I finish tying my shoes.

“Well I enjoy talking to her” I argued. While the socialization between the us was a must, I did genuinely enjoy the friendship that was evolving between us two. Even if it was only due to Bradley.

“Marcy you do realize you've warn that same exact shirt to this party for the past three years.” Bradly said standing up causing me to roll my eyes. I suppose it was officially time to embark on this journey.

“It’s my party shirt” I said jokingly lifting the collar of my breathable yet very warn gray tee shirt. This was the shirt I felt the most comfortable in, and I always wore when I knew I would be in a high stress situation. “Let’s kick it” I took a deep breath as Bradly through his arm around me and we made our way across the street.

The party went on much like the other years for me. I stood as far away from the crowd as possible without trying to come across as anti social. I did my best to keep Bradly in my view in case I would need to find someone to talk too. I would look around and notice what faces were familiar to me. However, I would never approach anyone. With What few people approached me, I would make polite small talk with until I or them would awkwardly walk away, then I would curse myself for being so awkward.

There were a few differences at this party then the last. There were more people than last year, however that did not surprise me. The amount of people has gone up every year, for Bradly was incredible at making new friends without loosing any it seemed.

Also this was the first party where alcohol was very much prevalent. I again knew this was going to happen eventually . The past few years there were a few kids that would sneak some here and there, but this year it seemed that everyone had a red solo cup in there hand filled with some mysterious liquid. Except for me.

“Marcy I brought you a drink!” I turned to see my second favorite face that could be at this party. Bradly's girlfriend Addy, I knew that I could talk to her without feeling awkward or out of place. However the thought of consuming alcohol under this much stress scared me, just as I was about to politely decline i was cut off. “No worries, it’s Sunny D! Bradly told me it’s your favorite” she smiled handing me the glass.

“Thanks Addy” I was thankful, for all of the thoughts running through my head were making me thirsty. And Sunny D was indeed my favorite.

“Of course! Now come on, Bradly wants to introduce you to his new friends!” Addy said grabbing My arm gently and pulled me through the crowd.

I knew better than to protest. For this was apart of the yearly tradition. At some point during the party, Bradly always deemed it necessary to introduce me to his top new friends of the year, and they always managed to be different than the last.

This was my least, and favorite part of the party. While I hated the anxiety that came along with meeting so many new people at once,I knew after this portion it would then be acceptable for me to leave.

“I’m for-warning you now, Brad has had a bit too much to drink. So just play along with his antics if you can.” Addy yelled to me over the roar of the crowd and I stiffened unsure of how I felt.

“Oh joy” I said Sarcastically. I had nothing against drunk people, only that I had never really dealt with one before.

“MARCY!!!!!!!!” I had heard Bradley obnoxiously yell only to then be embraced with a large and very smothering hug. “ I just want everyone to know how cool this chick is” Bradly yelled to everyone although no one was really listening to him. There was far too much commotion from everyone around. “Let’s go girls” Bradly then demanded the two of us.

Addy, gave me a pleading glance and mouthed “just go with it” and I reluctantly followed Addy and she followed brad into his crowded kitchen up to the table where there was a group of boys sitting around playing a game of cards. One of which looked incredibly familiar. I figured that he was probably a football captain for a rival school or something like that. I most likely saw a few of his posts on Instagram.

“Boys, Boys, Boys” Bradly drunkly got the entire tables attention and my insides began to twist anticipating all of the attention Bradly was about to cast onto me. “I want everyone to meet my best gal pal, Marcy Mae Dawson!” He said then proceeded to clap by himself.

I smiled and waved as I usually do when Bradly introduces me to his friends. Only this time was much worse considering an entire table of incredibly attractive teenage boys were gathered around a table.

There was a very very awkward moment of silence until Addy gracefully entered the conversation. “Marcy this is my cousin Johnson, and his friend Jack, Cole, Drew, and Shawn.”

“You mean Shawn mother fucking Mendes” Bradley drunkly yelled. “A mother fucking rock star. You here that Marcy there is a rock star at my party” Bradly aggressively sat down into his kitchen chair throwing his hands up. Almost falling if it wasn't for Johnson catching him.

Things clicked at that point. I had seen Shawn Mendes on line quite a bit, I even followed him on vine and he was really taking off. I was a little star struck but not really surprised. If anyone would have a celebrity at there party it would be Bradly.

“Alright buddy why don’t you have some water” Shawn handed Bradly his own glass. “It’s nice to meet you Marcy” he then smiled at me and my insides twisted this time in an entirely different way. I smile at him wanting to say more but not wanting to risk saying something stupid so I stayed silent.

As Bradly tried to take a sip of water he dropped the entire glass all over him self. “Well damn” he moaned as Johnson handed him some paper towels and I got a bottle of water off of the bar and handed it to Addy knowing she would have best chance at getting him to successfully drink it.

I stood my arms crossed, looking down at my feet and stealing a few glances at Shawn. Still amazed that it was actually him. While this was incredibly entertaining, I indeed did want to get home. As the table started to have discussion and share a good amount of laughs I couldn't help but begin to think of when the best time to leave would arrive.

“Marcy, would you like to sit down, I can go find another seat?” Shawn had asked me and while the offer did make me swoon, I thought this might be my only shot to escape.

“Oh no that’s okay, I was actually just going to leave. Thank you though.” I said trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Whattttt?? Marcy no! Addy tell Marcy to stay” Bradly whined but Addy nodded at me before reassuring Bradly that it was late. I smiled at her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Bradly, thanks for having me. Nice meeting you all.” I said turning to leave in fear that if I stayed to socialize more I would make a fool of myself. As I turned to leave I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned around expecting Addy but I was entirely shocked to see the eyes of Shawn Mendes a foot away from mine. This caused me to stumble back as I’m sure it would most however I was lucky enough to regain my footing prior to completely embarrassing myself. Shawn laughed causing my face to turn red im sure almost instantly.

“I just wanted to check and see if you were okay to get home, would you like a ride. I haven’t drank anything.” He asked and my eyes went wide.

Does he think I’m drunk now. How horrible would that be. I actually meet a celebrity and they think I’m trashed when really I’m just a giant pile of awkward.

“What! Oh, no I’m not, I didn't, I don’t drink. All I had was Sunny D!” I defend.

“Sunny D?” He laughed even more. Does he think I’m lying? Oh god.

“I swear, you can smell my breath” I defend. Smell my breath? what is wrong with me. “I’m just really clumsy.”

“I know your not drunk Marcy” he laughs. “Just making sure you have a way home.”

“Oh okay.” I say reassured. I then realize he is still waiting for an answer. “NO” I scream when I realize I’m not answering. “I’m so sorry I didn't realize you were asking me. I live right across the street. I just. God I’m so sorry.” I say rubbing my forehead looking down trying to avoid eye contact. This is mortifying. I expect him to walk away but instead his soft giggle escapes his lips again. I look up to see his smile. A smile even more charming then Bradly’s.

“It was very nice to meet you Marcy, have a good night.” He says and pats my shoulder before turning around to go back to his table of friends. ----------- Shawn and his friends have been at every party since. While every party I only socialized with Bradly or Addy, Shawn always made an effort to say hi to me and make small talk. Even as he grew more popular in the years. You could say I developed a crush on him, but really what teenage girl didn’t at this point in time. ----------- Present Day

“I can’t find it!” I yelled.

“Find what?” Addy asked looking up from her phone. She was FaceTiming Bradly about his party tonight.

“Her Party Shirt” Bradly answered for me causing me to aggressively shut my dresser drawer and rip the phone from Addy’s hand.

“Where the hell is it.” I don’t ask, I demand.

“To be returned on the morning of July 5th.” Bradly flashes me his smile.

“Then I won’t go to your stupid party” I threatened. I know it could seem a bit dramatic, but with social situations comes stress. With the incredible stress that will come from a social situation there is nothing wrong with wanting to wear what makes you feel comfortable.

“Then you won’t get it back.” Bradly threatened causing me to groan giving the phone back to Addy and flop onto my bed in the midst of a fit. “It’s been six years Marcy’s, it’s time to get a new wardrobe!” Bradly announced through the phone and I put a pillow over my face not wanting to hear it.

“Maybe Brads right, maybe you could take this opportunity to dress a little bit sexy. Maybe meet a cute boy” Addy began to insist making her way from my desk chair to the bed next to me.

“You were in on this” I take the pillow from my face and look at her in the eyes.

“Yes” she says regretfully.

“What is so wrong with my party shirt” I moan throwing my hands in the air.

“Nothing. There just nothing right about it either.” Addy says gently trying not to hurt my feelings. “ I’ll help you find something, something super cute and of course comfortable I promise.” She reassures me.

“Plus Shawn’s gonna be there, you want to look cute for your crush don’t ya Marcy” Bradly teased.

“I don’t have a crush on Shawn” I defend

“That is not what your Instagram, YouTube and Tumblr history says” Bradly continues and I put the pillow over my face again. I never planned to tell anyone about my crush, but when your best friend has no means for privacy it’s kinda hard.

I of course knew nothing would come of it. I was just like all of the other girls who had a crush on him. I was just lucky enough to be able to see him once a year. I wouldn't say I was I fan, but I was definitely into his music and watching him grow as an artist.

“I think that’s enough. Bye Brad, see you in a bit, love you.” Addy quickly hung up before ripping the pillow from my face. “He’s an ass, yes, but he’s an ass with a point”

“What point?” I look at her in disbelief.

“We are trying to get you out of your shell Marcy. I mean come on you just finished your first year of college and what exactly did you do all year?” She challenges.

“I got straight A’s.”I gloat.

“Aside from that, how many friends did you make, parties did you go to, Boys did you flirt with, what good memories have you made aside from getting honor roll and watching an obscene amount of netflixs.

“None.” I say regretfully.

“Exactly, you need to open up. Start living life.” She said and I saw her point, I just don’t see how my shirt had anything to do with it.

“Fine” I give in, I really didn't have a choice if I wanted to get my shirt back.

“Great I have the perfect outfit for you.” Said leans over and starts pulling cloths from her book bag. I should’ve questioned why she had brought a book bag to my house in the middle of summer. ----- Over all the outfit wasn't horrible. I was expect an entirely to tight a revealing mess however Addy was quite thoughtful when it came to my style. A pair of ripped jeans and a cozy white tee that was slightly cropped.

“This isn't to bad” I say and she glides the last of the mascara over my eye lashes.

“Don’t speak to soon” she smirks before going to her bag to pull out one last thing.

“No” I say the minute pulls out a pitiful excuse for shoes.

“Come on. They are just heels. Plus you live right next door worse comes to worse I’ll come over and grab your sneakers. Just try for me Marcy” she pleas and I shake my head no and go to grab my sneakers. “You want your tee shirt back don’t you?” She states causing me to stop into tracks and shoot her a death glare. ------- “I’m tired already” I say trying my best not to sink into the grass as I walk across my yard to get to Bradley's.

“Stop complaining, Addy does this every day” Bradly says. Addy seconds. I roll my eyes.

This year Addy and I are going over early, im too sure as to why. The only reason i agrees to so I may find a comfort place to sit and sulk for the night. As I walk over I see there are already two cars I don’t recognize in the drive way meaning people are already there thus I will need to socialize and I groan.

“It’s 6, how are people already here” I complain.

“My darling Marcy have you never heard of a pre game.” Bradley pats my back almost causing me to stumble.

“And that is how you always seem to get so trashed” Addy adds in and I laugh.

“I liked it better when you guys didn’t always team up against me” Bradley complained opening his front and the sound of men screaming and grunting. I reluctantly follow behind the two.

Inside are the same boys I met three years ago at Bradlys kitchen table. All stumbling around, yelling, drinking, and laughing. There is also a group of very pretty, incredibly dressed girls hanging on them. Shawn however is not there. I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed.

I take a seat on the couch in the living room that’s pushed against the wall away from the commotion. Addy and Bradly go over, while I go on my phone pretending to do something important, however I’m only playing angry birds.

All of a sudden the front door opens and in walks Shawn Mendes and my stomach immediately is flooded by a stream of butterfly’s, but they are quickly massacred as three women who look like super models follow close behind.

“Look who made it to the pre-game” Drew, one of the boys I met at the kitchen table exclaims and high fives all of his friends.

Shawn makes his way to the rest of them indulging in the high fives. I notice he seems different then the past years. He’s taller, more masculine, darker.

He glances over and sees my eyes glued to him he smiles. But it’s not the same smile I had swooned over the past 3 years, it was a smirk. A smirk I haven’t seen before. Not from him, not from anyone.

I’m sure my cheeks go red when he catches me staring and my eyes go back to my phone. I try and stay calm even though I am still incredibly star struck, though this is my fourth time being in a social situation with him. Although I am never social.

As he goes around the room greeting everyone I notice his voice has changed. Not deeper, just harsher. He’s more demanding, asking the girls to get him a drink, and them all rushing to get it for him. Me still sitting glued to my phone hoping no one brings me into the conversation.

“It’s Macey right?” Shawn turns to me and leans back on the pool table about ten foot away. Everyone turns there head to me and my stomach drops. How could he get my name wrong? What do you mean Marcy. Of course he got your name wrong he hardly knows you. You should be happy he was even close. How do you even go about correcting him. Just smile and nod. Smile and nod.

“Her names Marcy.” Addy corrects him for me and again I’m conflicted. Am I thankful, am I mortified, I should of just corrected him myself.

“Yeah sorry” I say. Fuck why did I just apologize for my own name. I want to go home. The girl to the left of him let’s out a giggle. Not a nice one, a condescending one. My eyes go back to my phone and everyone thankfully goes back to there conversations.

That could’ve been worse is all I keep telling myself. They are all standing and laughing around the pool table. I don’t think they are playing the game really, more of less just using it as a prop.

“How about a little drinking game to get this party started” one of the suspected models that followed Shawn into the room raising her glass.

They all agree and circle around the pool table as if this had been rehearsed. Addy points to a spot next to her urging me to join then and I shake my head no.

“Marcy come on.” She demands and once again all eyes turn my way and I reluctantly walk to the spot not wanting to draw anymore attention to myself. The same girl that laughed before laughs again, this time joined by the others.

“You’re gonna need a drink dear.” Johnson laughs handing me a beer.

“I don’t drink. Thank you though.” I say hesitantly not wanting to come off rude. Luckily Johnson puts it back and hands a water with a smile.

"No no no!" Bradly, already seemingly less sober then he was 20 minutes ago, snatches the water from my hand and replacing it with the solo cup from which he was drinking from. I try to stop him but he cuts me off saying "I dont want to hear it, tonight, you drink. Don't worry, its not strong." I says as he starts to make himself another drink.

"Clearly." I saw not thinking,luckily my comment gained a few laughs from around the table and i feel grateful nobody saw the comment as bitchy. I look up to see Shawn looking at me with the same smirk he had when he first walk in. Im sure my cheeks turn red and i look down hoping he didnt see. I take i sniff from the red solo cup and the pungent smells throws me off and i pray I can get away with faking my drinks throughout the game.

"So what game are we playing" Addy asks. The room fills with a few suggestions and one of the girls mutter out the words "Truth or Dare" which seems to grab everyones attention and they all agree.

I think the idea is a little juvenile but im not complaining. No one ever calls my name anyway so i feel slightly safe in this..."Marcy!"

I look to see the Model who laughed at my social skills making eye contact with me looking incredibly devious. "Truth or Dare" She practically challenge and I feel my knees begin to shake and chest tighten. Stay calm I remind myself. Its just a game that everyone plays.

"Truth" I reply trying not to sound as frightened as I am. Obviously I go for the safest option.

"How many people have you slept with?" She asks trying to seem innocent. Im sure she already knows my humiliating answer is zero however i dont want to go through the mortifying defeat of saying that.

"I mean dare" I say somehow fooling myself into thinking this option would be better.

"Thats not fair, you can't..." She starts to ridicule me and I feel my body start to freak out even more before she is cut off by a deep voice that makes my heart stop.

"Finish your drink." I look to her left and see the smirk thats been haunting since hes gotten here. Shawn's.

His request may have seemed simple to some, but as someone who has never tasted alcohol it was a lot. I think he knew that too. However, the thought of having to answer the question put far worse fear into my body so I slowly and regretfully bring the red solo cup to my lips, and force my body to allow all of the awful contents to be consumed.

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

Like,Reblog, and Follow for more

Message me “Subscribe to Prey” to be messaged after I post each part.

Accepting request for all fandoms, imagines, smuts and blurbs. (Wait time under 24 hours)

Updates expected every 48 hours 

Love always, ImsoPaigeyo