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azulock · 5 months

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Shidou, oliver, nagi and sendo when they wake up ( in the middle of the night ) to find s/o quietly weeping?

I love hurt/comfort, sooooo- maybe s/o is crying cuz of insecurities?

Love ur works❤️💋

- 👻anon

Ask got lost cause I'm a mess but I had copied it to work on another file so it's fine. Anyway ghostie, made a slight change to this one cause I'm a hot girl with nightmare problems, like night terrors actually, and the realistic kind of nightmare, it legit has me waking crying and sitting up, very angst. Funny to say that tho cause the days I was writing this I was having nightmares, the universe has a sense of irony.

gn!reader. Oliver (488 words), Sendo (499 words), Shidou (435 words), Nagi (600 words). mentions of nightmares, but no warnings, only fluff

oliver aiku

It was still pitch black in the room when Oliver woke up to the feeling of something pushing against his body. he didn't need to try and focus his eyes to know it was you - he knew well enough that he kept you in a constrictor like embrace while he slept. though, he did squeeze his eyes in a urgent attempt to get used to the darkness the moment he heard your pained hiccups and choked breath.

Gently, he rubs a large hand over your back and shoulder, gruff voice asking you what's wrong. you hesitate to answer, but stop pushing against him and he takes it as a chance to bring you closer in, burying his face in your hair. when you don't respond, only continue crying against his bare chest Oliver already knows the answer - truth is he knew even before he asked.

He'd already seen you have nightmares, already been woken up by the trashing and incoherent, panicked sleep talking. he just never saw you wake up like this, crying, sweating and choking on your own breath. Oliver takes a moment to fully will his body to wake up, softly caressing your head and back while he does. when the gentle touch doesn't work to stop your crying he pulls you onto his lap, pushing away the covers before getting up with you in his arms.

Even in your confused state you are fast to ask him where he is going, arms weakly surrounding his broad shoulders. when he answers, you furrow your brows and stare at him. "a shower?" you mutter back. "yeah, you know I like showering with you," he answers with a yawn, you knew it was true, and not even in a sexual way, for Oliver it was like a bonding activity. "but it's the middle of the night," you protest and he shrugs. "doesn't matter, we gotta wash away those nightmares, love."

The minute the warm water hits his hand he is brought back to a time when he was a child and his mother used the same thing for him, running a shower to wash away whatever plagued his small mind. to this day, the water still felt grounding to him. it took a bit of coaxing but Oliver managed to get you under the shower with him, the warm stream luring you into it's soothing touch. you let him wash your skin and listen to him babble about nothing at all. soon enough you are talking too, and even laughing at his bad singing as he pulls you into dancing with him, head laying on his chest and listening to his steady heartbeat.

"ah, I think we should leave now before my hands turn fully into raisins," you yawn against his chest. "eh, I wouldn't mind that. did the shower help?" he asks, stiffling a yawn of his own. "yeah, you did too. thank you, Oli."

sendo shuto

Waking up in the middle of the night had never been uncommon for Sendo, he was a light sleeper, and he woke often enough that he'd learned to just will himself back to sleep. but this time he couldn't do it, not when he noticed the sound was coming from his own bed. when the quiet whimpering hit his ears again he almost panicked, sitting up and reaching out to you, only to find you quietly crying, face buried in your pillow.

The moment his hand touches your shoulder you startle, apologizing between small sobs for waking him up, tears pooling in your eyes. at the sight, Sendo almost tears up himself, throwing out his own apologies for not waking up before. he holds you close, face resting in your shoulder as he gently asks you what's wrong, hands caressing your skin as he does so. You pause, hiccuping a bit before whispering to him about your nightmare with only a vague description.

He feels his heart sink, hugging you tight as he tries to sush your cries and clean away your tears. though, when he notices it isn't working, he almost panics again, before calming himself down so he can help. you cry into his chest, tears staining his shirt, and he decides staying in bed just won't do you no good. with gentle words and soft touches, Sendo urges you to get up and out of bed with him, hand never leaving yours as he guides you out of the bedroom.

You protest, insisting that he needs the rest, but he responds that he could never rest knowing you were suffering. he leads you both to the kitchen, soft smile never faltering as he offers to make you tea. when you don't reject it, he feels a little better, putting the kettle on the fire as he tries to make a conversation to distract you. soon enough you hear the familiar whistle, and Sendo gets busy with making you both tea.

Giving you both mugs to hold, he moves to pick up whatever sweet snack you got in the fridge and a mantle he kept on the arm of the couch. with everything in hand, Sendo takes you to the balcony of your apartment, sitting down side by side with the mantle over your legs to keep you both warm. You talk and drink the tea, watching the stars scattered on dark sky above the city. it's peaceful, and although it takes a little, that peace starts to seep to you, your tears drying and the smile returning to your face.

It doesn't take long for your head to be dropping on his shoulder, heavy eyes unfocused as you cling to his arm. "thank you, Shuto, it feels safe with you," it's only a whisper, but it's the loudest thing for him at the moment. "you don't need to thank me, love, I'm always here for this," he replies, even though he doesn't think you can hear.

ryusei shidou

Shidou was always something of a deep sleeper, few are the things that can disturb his slumber before it's time for his alarm to ring - an they usually piss him off. not you, though. the minute he realizes what woke him was your crying form, trembling and gasping by his side in the bed, he is fully alert. few are the things that terrify him, but seeing you like that is one of them.

At first, it's confusing, but it's only half a moment before Shidou has his arms wrapped around you tight. it ceases your trembling, and after a couple seconds your breathing is even again, but tears still fall from your eyes. he asks what is the matter, question whispered in your ear as gently as he manages. you respond with a simple "nightmare" voice quiet and shaky. Shidou had heard you mention them before, he just never imagined it was like that.

Whatever, his surprise doesn't matter now, he needs a solution, something to chase whichever nightmare you had away. he thinks for a minute before his mind slips back to the thing you did the first time you came to his house. something you do together almost once a month. it can't be a bad idea - even if the idea is watch old B horror movies.

And when Shidou offers you don't disagree - though, you did spend a second in thought, one that had him surprisingly tense. so he carries you to the couch, covers and all, before throwing some popcorn in the microwave and setting off to pick up the most ridiculous movie he can thing of - Killer Klowns from Outer Space. it's weird, it's trashy, and it's the thing you two watched at a midnight screening on your first date.

With remote control and popcorn in hand he settles with you under the covers, his eyes spending more time on you than on the screen. where you start the movie still tense and misty eyed, you end it yawning between laughs. and it's like a weight was lifted from his shoulders - Shidou knows he is not the best at delicate situations, but at least this time his methods worked. so when you suggest going back to bed, he feels like he can sleep soundly again.

"ain't you afraid of dreaming with killer clowns, tho?" he remarks with a laugh, muffled by how his face rests against your neck. "nah, killer clowns are easy stuff," you chuckle and shake your head. "besides, even if I do, I know I got you there to protect me."

nagi seishiro

For Nagi, waking up in the middle of the night was rare - it was rarer yet for him to not just immediately close his eyes and fall straight into deep sleep again. though, it was a bit hard to do that when he felt something shaking and hiccuping beside him on the bed. he was about to call it a hassle and try to sleep again when his brain finally snapped and made the connection, noticing the absence of your body wrapped around his own. the shaking and hiccuping were you - fuck, you were crying.

Slowly and carefully he turned around, at a loss of what to do when he saw your trembling form under the covers - but he knew he had to do something. with light hands Nagi pulls the covers just enough so he can see your face, his eyes being met with your red and teary ones. you both freeze for a moment before you bury your face back in the pillow, muttering an apology for waking him up, words almost unintelligible between your hiccups - shit, now he feels terrible.

Still at a bit of a loss, Nagi shakes his head, refusing your apology and trying to ask you what happened as he pulls you to him, your back against his chest. your answer is a small whisper and he only barely understands it, but he is left to wonder how terrible a nightmare gotta be to leave you like this. when you keep crying even as he tries to sooth you, Nagi notices there is no way you can go back to sleep like this, so he sits up in bed and pulls you into his lap, kissing the top of your head.

There is not much he thinks he can do, he has never been the best at dealing with peoples emotions. so Nagi does what he'd do for himself and offers to find something to distract you. he snuggles you comfortably between his legs, head resting on your shoulder as you hug a pillow. at first he tries putting some show or cartoon for you to watch on his phone, but that doesn't prove to be enough to stifle your cries and he finds himself back to the drawing board, and having to think of something else.

It takes a minute of Nagi just silently caressing your head before he thinks of something. muttering against your ear, he asks if you'd rather play something with him. when you nod stretches one arm to reach for the nightstand, opening a drawer and pulling out your switch. he finds something cozy but still engaging enough to keep you entertained, and you settle on letting him hit the buttons while you just make the decisions. Nagi can't be sure how much time passes with you nestled between his arms and legs as he holds the console, but his plan works, and the game distracts you. the tears start drying on your cheeks and your breath evens out slowly, and sure as daybreak, a smile lights you face again.

"sei, thank you for doing this for me," you mutter, words cut by a long yawn. "huh? it's not like you got to thank me, tho, I don't mind it. so, what you want me to do no-" Nagi's answer is cut short just as he looks from the console back to you, finding your eyes closed as you'd fallen asleep in his arms. that night, he stays like that, being thankful he can sleep in any position, just so he can keep you safe.

today's tag sponsors: @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @loser-vxbez

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #oliver aiku x reader #ryusei shido x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #sendo shuto x reader #ryusei shidou x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #nagi seishiro x reader

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chococolte · 1 year

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What? I think I might be addicted to you writing?? Like, this is hands down the best yandere/sagau blog I’ve come across. I just feel so loved with the way you write the interactions between the reader and characters! And my god complex is very well fed right now! Finally some good fucking food :)

I’d like to entrust you with my comfort character, my baby boi, Venti. Would you please do sagau touching his wings in his archon form, like how you did draconic Zhongli? And if it isn’t too much, could you write something for sagau calling Venti “good boy” as well? Ty!

word count. 975

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religious + cult themes, sagau + cult au. i do not condone yanderes irl.

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. aaa thank you!!!! sorry this one took me so long, but here you go! i mixed your two requests together here, so i hope you don't mind (though he'll still get his own separate good boy post, eventually). i hope you like it!! ♥

Venti's wings spread the moment you touch the soft skin of his spine.

It's an impulse, purely instinctive. His body acts before his mind, and his wings are the most primal part of his form— they react to any outside stimuli within moments, and to you, especially; always you. Before Venti can bite his tongue and control himself, his wings fan out, his feathers ruffling.

Venti's wings are broad and a bold white, stark against the golden light of your throne room. Every individual feather is soft and delicate, sensitive to the lightest touch. From where he sits by your feet, he looks up at you with wet eyes and unshed tears of euphoria, fringed by dark black lashes.

He lets out a small, quick breath, almost a whine, when you run your fingers over his feathers. There's no cruelty in your touch, no callousness to your movements—you move elegantly, every gentle scrape of your nails against his back and rub of your hands leaves him shuddering, filled with the urge to mutter every prayer in your name.

You massage the small area connecting his wings to his back. Venti arches his spine, chest heaving with rhapsodies of pleasure. His fingers curl around your robes, pulling them tight enough his knuckles turn white. He hides his face in the warmth of your lap, taking in every breath with the intent to remember your scent.

"Your Grace," he mumbles into the silk of your fabrics, body jolting when you brush against the tender, velvety skin at the base of one of his feathers. Venti bites the inside of his cheek, holding back a loud, obnoxious whimper. As you take your fingers upward and gently lift one of his feathers, he has to stop himself from making any salacious sounds.

"A-Ah, please… more! Please—" Venti chokes on his words, sputtering as you rub his feathers in-between your fingers. His wings twitch, tensing with rapture. His heart swells and sings in his chest when he catches a glimpse of the smile on your face— he's pleasing you, even if he must make a fool out of himself to do so.

Venti is only mildly embarrassed, though the pure happiness of being so close to you outweighs any shame he may feel. When it comes to you, there's no limit to what he'd do; ask him to throw his life away, and he will do so without question. Ask him to show you the most vulnerable parts of himself, and he'll do it without any hesitation. Ask him to spread his wings and soul, whatever part of him you desire to see, and he will do it without thinking. Repercussions matter little when it comes to his god.

He's thought of this moment before— latching onto your thighs, begging to be toyed with, the warm comfort of your presence so close to him; having you play with his feathers and wings in your hands, showing you every dark, nasty urge he's kept hidden away. A paradisiacal reverie he's imagined so much that every moment is coordinated, practiced and perfect. He says this, you say that-- but nothing could compare to the sweet reality of your touch, the truth of basking in your light by the bottom of your throne, of your lovely benevolence— he could never go back to dreams, now.

You trace the bone of his wings, and Venti follows, tucking his wings inward so you don't have to reach to pet the tips. The mere thought of you having to reach for anything at all is revolting. The world is yours to command; the rest of them simply live within it. Whatever it is you wish of him, he will do it. If you wished to take his wings and pluck every feather, he would let you.

A sharp shiver breaks him out of his thoughts when you move back down, rubbing at the base of his wings. All too quickly, Venti's heart lurches to his throat, his ribcage moving with every breath.

He stifles a moan, chest convulsing with every intake of air as you continue to gently handle his feathers. You tug softly at one of them, and he presses himself further against you before he can think, mind muddied and clouded with mist. All he can think of is you, you, you. You're the only thing worth thinking about; the only thing worth caring about.

You laugh, and Venti mewls. Any composure befitting of one of The Seven is discarded, completely forgotten. His many titles and epithets, prayers that speak his praises and ballads of his history are meaningless, now— in comparison to you, none of it matters. You are everything, and he wishes for nothing more than for this moment to be frozen in time. Any moment spent with you is heaven. Your laughter is light and mellifluous, his ears and mind besotted by the mere sound. He could listen to you for an eternity.

"Good boy," you hum, and Venti's mind breaks. His shoulders shake, and his wings flutter, twitching and tensing all at once. "Just my good boy, right?"

"Just your good boy," Venti says fervently. He looks up at you, barely able to bring himself to meet your heated gaze, but somehow still manages without losing his mind. "Just yours."

He moves to say it again, but his words hitch in his throat when you suddenly move your hands upwards, forgoing his wings. Your fingers attach themselves to his hair, threading through his dark locks with gentleness he knows he has done nothing to deserve.

"Only mine," you say, a smile audible in your voice. A shudder runs through his body at your tone. Despite how loud his heartbeat is, he hears you clearly above all else. No matter what, he will always hear you.

"Only yours," he whispers back.

#[🦇] — my writing #genshin impact #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #sagau #self aware genshin #self aware genshin au #genshin cult au #venti #yandere venti #sagau venti #genshin self aware #genshin #yandere venti x reader #genshin sagau #sagau x reader #gender neutral reader

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soobswvrld · 1 year

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ENHYPEN WITH A S/O WHO BAKES !

L.HEESUNG

STOP HE'S SO CUTE

he makes sure the dorm has whatever u need to bake so u can do it there

has whole playlists that are made specifically for you stress baking, holiday baking, sad baking, happy baking, or just baking

back hugs you the whole time

mumbles sweet things in ur ear OR SINGS

prob tried to help you but ended up spilling 3 different ingredients in a span of 4 minutes so he yelled, causing you to spill a little too, he then proceeded to fuss over you cause some flour or smth got on ur clothes

does all the dishes <3 <3 <3 while complaining LMAOOO

he demands kisses as payment

def takes a bunch of pictures of you baking

proudly shows off ur baked goods

once they come out of the oven he immediately eats it with no hesitation

and u have to watch him go " ha WUT HA Wt"

P.JONGSEONG

he would start cooking dinner or lunch while you bake

he would start rambling abt whatever and u would talk abt ur day

it's honestly one of his favorite things to do with u cause its so domestic

he would find things at the grocery store in the baking section and buy them

definitely would show u recipes that he thinks u would like

u two clean together and switch off roles

share the food with the rest of enha

ITD BE SO CUTE

u all eat the food together and it's vv wholesome

GIVES U THE BIGGEST PORTION OF FOOD

AND U GIVE HIM THE BEST PART OF WHATEVER U MADE

my man is LOVESICK (0x1=lovesong)

S.JAKE

THIS MAN

head in hands he makes a pillow fort and sets up a movie while u bake so u can eat it in there

ITS SO HOME-Y homey? home like?

creates a whole ambiance

sits in the corner and listens to u talk abt ur day

if u ran out of something u need he is out the door and buying it

prob takes the bowls and utensils once ur done using them and washes them

IM SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT

P.SUNGHOON

HE BOTHERS U SM

puts flour on u

screams when u put some on him

u two always have a flour fight

Once u threw some in his face he stood there frozen for a minute and wordlessly wiped his face

then moved towards u til ur back hits the counter and puts his hands on the counter on either side of u and is like

"don't do that, it's mean " in a deep voice

and ur blushing cause whAT

then he does his cute little smile and throws flour in ur face

ends up running away giggling

wipes ur face when u two are done throwing flour at each other

as u keep baking he cleans up the giant mess u two he made

if ur counting out loud how much u put in he'd start saying random numbers

you: 1...2....3

sunghoon at the same time: 48..29..30

actually keeps count tho cause he'd feel bad if he messed u up

eats the baked goods and exaggerates his reaction to the food to make u laugh

he wants to mix the batter so he can show off his muscles

K. SEONWOO

he puts on a kdrama in the background

got u two matching aprons

eats the batter

sunoo: *eyeing the batter*

you: don't even

sunoo: don't even what? I don't even know what ur talking abt

*silence*

sunoo, at the speed of light: dips his finger in and puts it in his mouth

you: sunOO NO

sits next to the oven waiting for it to be ready

u two do rock paper scissors on who is cleaning what

pretends he's gonna have the first bite then gives it to u

Y. JUNGWON

he's so *sobs*

if u stress bake when it's exam season he makes sure to take some butter out every weekend so it can become room temp just in case

constantly looking over ur shoulder to see what ure doing

u don't even see the mess u makes because jungwon got it

u spilled? it's already wiped

u just used that bowl? already washing it

PREHEATS THE OVEN CAUSE HE KNOWS U WILL FORGET

pls jungwon would sometimes purposely wipe flour or smth on u so he can wipe it for u

he just wants to be close to u leave him alone

makes sure no one bothers u while ur in the zone

finds recipes and shares it with u

eats whatever u make no questions asked

one time u gave him something Niki made and he slowly nodded and made a face of pure disgust

jungwon: ....you made this...?

you: yes, do u like it?

jungwon: ummmmmmmmmmmmmm

you: I spent hours making it just for you!

jungwon: that's so interesting ahhahhhahhahha

jungwon looked so disturbed HELP HE DIDNT WANA HURT UR FEELINGS BUT HE ALSO WANTED TO BE HONEST

jungwon: you know I love you, so sos oso sso much, right?

you: I love you too wonnie

jungwon: so don't take this the wrong way but this tastes like I ate expired cheese

you: ....

jungwon: IM SORRY ILL EAT ALL OF IT IM SORRY

you: haAHAHHAHHAHHAH

jungwon: ?

you: Niki made it

jungwon: oh.. I knew that

when u gave him what you actually made his face lit up

he had the biggest smile HES SO CUTE PLS

N. RIKI

bothers u the whole time pt. 2

constantly asking if ur done yet

dances while u bake and tries to get u to dance too

don't even think abt sharing what u made with everyone else cause Niki would eat it all

another one who would eat the batter

would also put the batter on u

and u would put some on him

and he would start talking abt how ur trying to ruin his career

Niki: I cant believe u would do this... you RUINED me.... MY GORGEOUS SKIN YOU-YOu RUINED IT!

you thought he was reenacting a drama LMAOOO

u just stood there waiting til he was finished

BUT HE KEPT GOING

so u cut him off saying

you: lets break up

Niki: what

and u just kiss him and keep baking

Niki gets so confused

he's all like I'm not complaining but WHAT WAS THAT

he gets over it

Niki's the type to make random tiktoks while u bake LMAOOO

ur mixing the batter and all of a sudden Niki is next to u and doing the anti fragile dance

u do a staring contest to see who does the dishes and who cleans the counter

he always ends up laughing so u get to choose what u clean

A/N!

First fic done B) hope u liked it !

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harrysmimi · 1 year

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Handsome

Synopsis: One where Harry harbours a little concert crush on someone

Ps. I dreamt this :)

More of my work

YN was very excited to go see Harry finally!

She have been saving for it for ages that she did not hesitate to go just a tiny bit over budget when buying the pit tickets. Her friend was coming too with her. She has been his fan since his first solo album came out and have been wanting to go see him since his very first tour.

Camping out from the sunrise, being exhausted was worth it if she got to see the person who literally kept her sane during her most difficult of times. In fact even save her at some extent.

She was the typical fangirl. But didn't had any of his merch or his vinyls because she couldn't afford it. That doesn't make her any less of a fan. She spent a little too much on the tickets so she had to stick to her closet to pick out an outfit.

She didn't care. Literally. About what she wore. She wore a gown she'd sewn from a bedsheet for an Instagram reel (she just had a public account where she posted a video of her making that dress and it sort of blew up, got about ten thousand likes). It had big puffy sleeves with green leaves printed on the fabric. She didn't know where she'd wear the dress anyway so she pulled it out today.

Though she didn't felt like it, YN did put in some efforts in how she looked, according to her she might bump into a handsome guy or a very pretty girl tonight. People meet at concerts, it wasn't something unusual but rare. She has been single since she last went to prom which was ages ago and her friends have been bugging her to go out so they all can go on a couples only vacation. She is just going to take her Emotional Support cat with, he is only male and a pussy in her life who's not disappointed her yet. It would at least put an end to what her friends have to say when she doesn't find someone at the concert to go on a date with the very next day.

She woke up an hour early to make a sign for Harry. Not a big paper, just a two by two feet thick craft paper. It is big enough for him to read without blocking anyone's view. She was planning to head first so she can stand at the barricade. She doesn't care if she gets crushed. She just wants to have a nice time with her celebrity crush and her best friend.

Oh, and she did picked up a single rose to throw it towards him. Or at least attempt to.

She kept it close to her so no one can steal her idea as she saw many fans making their signs outside. It wasn't very creative, what she wrote but it was her idea. Soon she was let in and luckily her sleep deprivation was rewarded that she got to stand near the barricade.

She stood there, jammed to the pre show set lists and the opening act, waiting patiently for the person she has been dreaming to see for so long. She even made good friends with one of the security guard standing in front of her by the stage. Her heart started racing the moment the love band stepped up on the stage, it would calm down eventually but start pounding again in anticipation of he could pop up anytime on the stage.

He did eventually came up, with his brown guitar as he kick started his show with Golden. He took her breath away, quite literally as he worked and did his job.

An absolute angel, Harry appeared to her. Dressed in a all jean outfit, a vest and his usual pants with his initials on the back pockets in red sparkles. She found it adorable. Though for the longest the initials and three cherries on the back of his vest was only what she saw.

An hour left. Harry was already dreading to go down the stage. He was having a good time, prancing and jumping and running around the stage like a toddler, singing his songs with double sexual meanings to them. That was an ironic combo he liked to call when he'd see his fans talk about him using those exact same words.

He walked around. Care free. Up until someone caught his eyes. Though she blended in with crying and freaking out fans. She had a small sign with her which she held over the barricade. He found that very sweet of her as she wasn't blocking anyone's attention. But what her sign said was even sweeter and melted his head.

Sunshine, you look so very handsome tonight!!! - it said with a yellow iPhone esque smily emoji drawn on the the end. And there was a red rose in her hand.

He felt blood rushing upto his face, warming his cheeks as he read her sign, again, as he sang through Daydreaming. The nickname got him.

YN almost peed her pants seeing that he saw her sign and smiled at her. He was red like a tomato, how pale he was didn't helped to conceal it either in bright artificial lights around him. From then he kept going back to where she was stood, checking in on time to time, her sign was still on it's place. She wasn't filming but she made sure her friend was. At one point she even doubted he was even looking at her and expressed her concern tk her friend.

"He's looking at you idiot," she said, "he's not cross eyed!"

YN liked to believe that in that moment because everything felt like a waking dream to her. She was dreaming with her eyes wide open in all her consciousness, in all her senses. Though she still doubts it's one of those dreams which feels awfully real that when you wake up you feel like it literally happened to you seconds ago.

Harry couldn't help himself but look at the girl with the sign. He'd said it before that he can tell how he feels about someone with just looking in their eyes and he saw how sweet she was through her eyes. Or at least he liked to think so, because she is also so very gorgeous and easy on eyes to look at, like holding onto am Amethyst crystal or places slices of fresh cucumber on your eyes, or getting the perfect amount of sleep at night time.

Is he over exaggeration? Absolutely he doesn't not care!

Before the encore, he stopped to read a few signs. Talk to a couple of people before he went ahead and read her sign out loud because it was just that sweet of a gesture anyone has ever done for him. And he just wanted to talk to her.

"Sunshine, you look so very handsome tonight," Harry read, "why thank you, darling, so do you!" He was flattered all over again, he saw her eyes sparkle as tears brim up in her pretty eyes. She was surprised!

"What is your name?" He asked, crouching down to get closer so he can get her name right, even took off one of his ear piece.

"YN!" She said as loud as she could.

Harry heard it, "YN?" He asked to make sure and she nodded. "Yes, got it right!" He celebrated making the crowd erupt in screams. "Are you from around here YN?" She nodded in no to answer him, "where are you from?"

"India, but I'm here to study." She said, not loud enough but he could read her lips.

"You're here to study? What are you studying, YN?" Harry asked.

The more he kept saying her name the more it made her go crazy inside, and not to mention cry happy tears. Harry knew that so he didn't pointed it out.

"Business?" He said, "that's amazing, best of luck with the rest of your course. Are you having a good time tonight, YN?"

"Yes!" She exclaimed.

"Thank you so much for coming to the show tonight." He stood up because he's got a show to do, "whenever you go back home, give my love to the fans in India. Thank you for bringing such a sweet sign."

"I got you this!" She forwarded the red rose to him holding it at the very tip so it could reach him, standing on her tippy toes as she leaned forward.

"Oh that's for me?" He asked, he didn't hear what she said as he's put his earpiece back on, "thank you." He took it, smelled it.

He went on to introduce the next song, and YN stood there in shock, letting her brain process what the just happened. Just for him to hit her in the face by singing Medicine after two songs. Well, he didn't hit her but it was like a punch in her face. But he still kept going back to where she was stood, not even being subtle about it. The girls around her started to give her side eyes seeing that.

She was looking for the rose she gave him. She thought he threw it away at some other fan like he usually does, but instead she found it hung on the belt hook of his pants.

"He's got a crush on you!" Her friend yelled when he looked at her for the millionth time there.

"Stop it." She mumbled to her friend, feeling suddenly threatened when more people around her started to look at her and even film those little interactions. Being in the fandom YN has closely seen how scary his fans can get, even though he was just looking at her, it made her feel scared somewhere in her heart.

It was best to brush it off and move on and enjoy the rest of the show.

"Do you like know him?" A girl standing next to YN's best friend asked once Harry had ran off stage and everyone was leaving as well.

"Like personally? No," YN answered confusedly and earned a weirded out look from the girl as she walked away.

"Well, she was a bitch." YN's friend commented making her laugh. "See your bedsheet dress caught his eye, now when are you two getting married?" She hooked her arm around YN's as they walked out.

"Next week." YN smiled with a faux-blush and they both ended up in a fit of laugh. "Did you get all the pictures of us?"

"Oh yes!" Her friend nodded. They looked through the pictures both of them took together today, going though the memories they miss already. "Oh my god, I'm going through my post concert depression. How do you feel?"

They both were in a can back to their flat, "I feel like I'm dreaming. I might miss all of this in the morning."

"Did you gals went to Harry Styles concert today?" Their cab driver asked. It was a lady who seemed to be in her mid 40s, she was super sweet and they talked throughout the ride back home, to YN and her friend's surprised she liked his music too.

It was when YN reached that it hit to her that everything happened tonight was real!

She really talked to the guy she has been crushing over for past six-seven years. That made all the sleep disappear from her system even though she. She stayed up going through the videos her friend sent, giggling to herself like a little idiot.

She is idiot for him and she takes all the pride in that.

Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend lemme know if you want to added to the tag list

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bidoofenergy · 1 year

Text

in the middle, alone

based on this post by @quaranmine

(825 words)

Grian can never really deny Jimmy and Joel. He goes along with the big things— teaming up or handing over his time or fighting with Pearl and BigB over that fucking frog—and the little things—their matching jackets or their sunglasses or their fucking name—and minimally complains about it the whole time. Their bed situation was a medium thing; it wasn't going to kill him, but gods did it make his days that much worse.

Joel somehow both overheats and has the coldest toes known to man. Jimmy sleeps curled into himself but stretches his wings out, sticking feathers into Grian's mouth. They both kick. They left him the middle. He hates them for it.

At the end of the day, he makes a show of leaving with Pearl and BigB, back to their towers and frogs. Being alone makes you easy to pick off by any of the other roving groups of Reds. BigB throws an arm over his shoulders and Pearl bumps shoulders with him, both comforting him, both making him stumble.

It's only as they pick their way across the lawn, avoiding pressure plates because no one can quite remember where the TNT is, that Grian realizes he might actually be spending the night there. That's not the worst thing in the world. He'd probably get his own bed, away from other people. But something about the thought of sleeping on his own, not on the destroyed roof of the woodland mansion, makes something settle in the pit of his stomach. Makes things feel a little too final.

"We'll take care of you, Grian!" Pearl tells him, with that bright, sharp smile she only wears in the games. BigB rummages through their chests but in the end only turns up with a single piece of wool.

"Sorry, man," he tells Grian and he sounds like he means it.

"Don't worry about it," Grian tells them. "I'll just sneak back through the forest to the mansion and meet you guys in the morning." For a moment the other two hesitate, glancing at each other, and Grian watches them do the same math he just did: no one's in the forest, the TIES and Clockers have both gone home, he definitely has good gear at his base that he could bring them.

"Stay safe." BigB tells him and he sounds like he means it.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite!" Pearl sings after him, already heading up the ladder.

Grian makes it back to the mansion, perfectly fine except for being damp all over again—why did Joel flood their whole base? He's tired, wrung out from the chaos of the day, and crawls into bed, armor still on. He pulls his sheets up to his chin.

It's too cold. Joel runs so hot and curls in so close that most nights Grian woke up well before he wanted to, drenched in sweat. Grian rips the blankets off the other beds and pulls them over himself. There's no one here to yell at him for it anyway. It's not the warm bulk of two friends, of a set of wings layered over his own.

It's too quiet. Jimmy loves to talk when they go to bed, rambling on about the day or some joke Martyn made or that fucking frog. Joel snores and snuffles into his pillow and is generally just as noisy asleep as he is awake. Now, all Grian can hear is the wind rustling through the wheat.

It's fine. Grian likes sleeping by himself. He hates being in the middle of their ridiculous dog pile—the "Bad Boys Bed Bundle" as Joel had called it, which didn't even make sense. Just this morning, he woke up spitting mad because Jimmy's feathers had found their way into his mouth, again. He's not upset to be sleeping alone for the first time since the games had started. It is not too cold or too quiet or something truly ridiculous like too lonely.

It is perfectly normal for him to be in bed, alone. Two nights ago he threatened to move up to his bread house, he was so annoyed, and Joel had yanked him back down with hands around his chest while Jimmy clung to his middle and apologized and begged in the same breath. He stayed on the rooftop, because he can never really deny them anything, and stared up at the mess of bridges that cut across the sky, Joel and Jimmy still clinging to him.

No one is clinging to him now. No one is on either side of him now. In the morning, he will go meet Pearl and BigB and neither of them will lean on him the way Joel and Jimmy did so easily. He's in the middle of nothing now. He's in the middle, alone. The thought settles in his stomach like a lead weight.

They're dead. They left him in the middle, alone. He hates them for it.

#bad boys #limited life #limited life spoilers #limited life smp #life series #traffic smp #grian #god bad boys fucking. destroyed me #im out living my life. with family. and all thats in my head is limited life #also im on my phone so sorry for any mistakes / formating weirdness #my fic

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luveline · 1 year

Note

hi hi lovely girl, can I please request more for Eddie and his daughter Roan? I'd love to see more from before Eddie and reader are dating, where Roan acts like a leech on a date and Eddie's both embarrassed and amazed? thank u! 🧡

ty for ur request!!!! single dad Eddie FOREVER ♥︎ eddie and roan | fem!reader

Eddie's sick to his stomach. Like, threw up before he came, nearly called you to cancel type sick. He didn't cancel because he's not dumb, he knows that the first few dates are the most vital, and he also thinks it would've been worse than just showing up. So he's here, outside of Morgan's dessert emporium for your third date, and he has an excited Roan in his lap.

She's in her second nicest outfit, having already worn the first for the first date, and then again for the second. Her hair is in primly done bunches that he knows from experience won't look so prim in about half an hour, the hair ties a cherry pink to match her pretty dress.

"Roanie, Roanie, macaroni," he sings under his breath, one of his hands encapsulating hers, swaying her chubby arm from one side to the other. He's looking out the window as he does, waiting for you to arrive. "Roanie, Roanie, Ro. Roanie, Roanie, macaroni, where'd your macaroni go?"

She cheers, "I ate it!" in her clumsy baby voice.

He squeezes her tiny cheek in tender fingers. "You did. My big girl ate all her dinner after daycare, because you're the best."

She climbs up to stand on his thigh, Mary Jane's he'd scrubbed clean earlier digging into his muscle. Or lack thereof. He doesn't exactly work out.

"When can we have– have cake?" she asks, rubbing her cheek into his.

He knows she's trying to be sweet. Too bad she almost knocks his front teeth out. He groans and drops his head into her shoulder, and she takes that for a hug.

"Thanks," he mumbles, big hand covering nearly the entirety of her back. "Cake? We're gonna have cake right now, babe, two minutes."

"You 'lready said two minutes," she says.

"I already said two minutes?" he asks. She pulls away to frown at him. "I did. Those two minutes are going super slow today, babe, that's not my fault, that's gravity."

She stares at him. He stares at her. You knock on the window and startle him out of his skin, though Roan isn't nearly so surprised. She sets her gaze on you through the dusty glass window and her lashes kiss the skin under her eyebrows, her eyes are that wide.

Eddie doesn't know if Roan knows your name, but she knows your face, throwing herself at the window with a great, electrifying squeal.

"Can I open the door?" you ask. You must be speaking loudly to be heard through glass and Roan's excitement.

He meets your eyes by accident and can't look away. "Yeah!" he shouts, and then winces. He can open the door himself. Loser, he thinks. You fucking loser.

The very first thing that had endeared him to you does the trick again: you're smiling like you aren't sure you should be smiling at all, more nervous energy than a bus of sixth graders on their first day of middle school, and he's a goner immediately.

Roan holds her hands out insistently and you hesitate to pick her up, waiting for his cue. When he nods enthusiastically you pull her up into your chest, graceless but well meaning. She takes your shoulders into small hands and stares at you, speechless.

It's not often Roan Munson finds herself with nothing to say. She's the chattiest girl alive now that words are in her palm, even if she's speaking straight gibberish.

"Hey, princess" you say, in your best approximation of a kid friendly voice, which isn't half bad, "Your daddy's got you all dressed up again, oh my goodness!"

Eddie gets out of the car and tries to retuck his shirt before you notice.

"Why was she in your lap?"

"What?" he asks, looking up, one eye squinted against the sun as it slinks behind the emporium.

"You don't drive around with her in your lap, right?" Your hands tighten in Roan's dress. "I mean– oh, I'm so sorry, not that you aren't safe–" You clear your throat. "I just mean, why was she in your lap? Obviously you don't drive around with her there. Unless you do."

He leaps in to save you, grateful that it's his saving you and not you saving him. "No, no, God, I strap her into her car seat. We were just waiting for you, that's all."

"Oh my gosh," you mumble, hiding your face in Roan's hair. "Well, that's good, isn't it? Can't embarrass myself anymore than that."

His relief starts to course in. While Eddie finds you funny and charming and so, so pretty, he'd forgotten the best thing about you — you're a loser, too. A huge dork, and a bona fide softie.

"Roan, you smell really nice." Your voice softens into some bubbly baby talk. "You smell yummy, almost as yummy as the emporium. I hope you and dad left room for cake."

"Chocolate," Roan says happily.

"Exactly." You smile up at him over her head. "Ready? I got a reservation by the ice cream, so Roan can watch them scoop it." You wiggle your eyebrows.

Roan is as mystified by the scoops as you'd thought, pulling against Eddie's loose grip on her waist and whining to be let down.

"Baby, we need to stay in our seats," he says, "so they know where to bring the cake."

He's telling the truth, mostly. It's been a long day and he doesn't wanna chase her around the room for the next half an hour.

"I can take her up to look?" you offer.

"No, you don't have to," he says.

"I'd like to. If that's okay?"

Eddie waves you off before he can think any better of it. You've plenty of time to talk. You've called him at home just to call him twice now, so he isn't too worried. He thinks things are going well.

You and Roan fast walk to the front of the parlour and watch the dessert makers scoop ice cream, blend milkshakes, and drizzle cake with melted chocolate. Roan says something, too far away for Eddie to hear, but you laugh and crouch down on your knees, your hand behind her back. Your other hand points at one of the dessert makers as they roll a waffle cone.

"You want one of those, too?" he hears you ask.

Yeah, Eddie would say things are going real well.

#eddie and roan #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction

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kit-williams · 4 months

Text

Beauty in the eye

Yandere Emperor's Children

This could be seen as an OC but I'm doing my best with this x reader (please someone tell me if it's working) ((or would it better to switch to you vs she))

tw: Yandere, nudity? body horror? dubious consent? Its slannesh time again, Emperor's children ((Also please let me know if I miss some I'm trying my best to warn ya'll ))

The moans that drifted around the room. The white marble against the gold filigree and royal purple fabrics. As men, women, and everything in between experienced the ecstasy of Slannesh. Palion Hiss ran his tongue against the exposed spine of one of his devotees. Their moans and shrieks of pain fluttered about his gallery as he was searching for a new piece.

Oh how bored he was with all the smooth shapes... the only thing that could stimulate his eyes were the way the silken fabrics would pool and wrinkle... the pulsing bloody forms of peeled flesh. The way thrown paint would chaotically splatter against the wall. It's all because he had gotten a new muse.

He tossed the devotee to the side ignoring the shriek of pain and the way they thrashed in agony. His eyes roamed over the undressed shapes before his muse walked in. Covered in a dark blue robe with a hood and wearing a white porcelain mask. He painted the red lips and applied the delicate blush.

He could see her eyes dart over the sea of bodies and shy away as one thrashing body gets too close. White gloves cover her hands... every inch of skin covered... he knew her feet were bare but the length of the robes.... hid it all from their eyes. Palion bit his bottom lip watching her eyes shy away from the more lurid acts going on in his gallery. It made his tongue tie knots on itself with how shy she would be.

She walked closer to his throne as she held a tray with food for him and drugs. Hmm he's sure he ordered that ages ago... no wonder he was bored he had been out of his muse's light for so long. How he watches, clawed fingers just idly playing with his long silver locks, her move closer and waits. He'd have to train her more... doesn't she realize that she can just walk up to him climb into his lap even he wants her to be his muse. A jerk of his chin as his eyes flick over to a cacophony of sounds for a moment as her voice is nearly drowned out by it. "Forgive my delay my lord... I was... um kept."

Palion felt his jaw tense. Did someone touch something that was his?! She was his muse, would one of his brothers dare even touch her. "Explain now." He said far too gruffly as he watched the tray start to shake.

"I had... I had to take the long way back. I don't know who they were but... they just were harassing me and trying to pull off my mask." Her meek voice sings to him of fear and shame.

"One of my brothers?" He sees her hesitate, his tongue rolls the drug laced food inside of his mouth. His muse experiences far many more luxuries than any of these drugged out devotees or playthings and one such luxury is her being allowed to hesitate, "Pretty little muse... you'll be safe with me. You just have to only move your head yes or no..." He watched her slowly nod. His hand gently grabbed her chin as he placed a chaste kiss on the porcelain forehead leaving a ghost of purple lipstick on the smooth material. "I'll take care of it... and of course you."

-----

Perfect bodies move all around you. Perfect breasts... waists that are attractive... muscles that run over the body... literally everyone in this room is a work of art. All in the throws of pleasure or pain. Perfect flesh being flayed from a body... the perfect face of pleasure as someone else is fucked dumb... even the ones you think have overdosed lay there looking perfect.

Your skin itches and buzzes as you feel so out of place... you're horribly imperfect as you stand besides Master Palion's throne as he eats and drinks with a bored look on his face. He looks so perfect... everything is perfect. You rapidly blink away the tears as you look down at the floor. You're still upset about earlier... about someone trying to touch your mask... trying to see your face. You're too ugly to be here!

"My muse?" You heard Palion's voice as your head snaps up in worry. Did you breathe too loudly? Did you let out a sad whimper? You can't stop the tremor of fear as he looks at you concerned. He has been a good master but he is in the depths of the Prince's embrace... you're use to masters like that being unpredictable... its how you had gotten disfigured.

"Master?" You whisper softly.

"EVERYONE GET THE FUCK OUT!" He suddenly snarls slamming his hands on the marble arms of the throne and you bow as you go to scurry off but he points at you muttering, "Stay."

It's quiet... saved for the dripping of blood and wine as you follow that perfect stride of his. The way his silver hair sways back and forth like a silken furred tail. You hate it here. You hate having Slanneshi masters... it makes you feel so hideous.

You whimper as your feet leave the bare marble floors and you find yourself sinking into a sea of plushness. Yet you know the bed is firm just you have your own little plush space on his bed. You hear the lock of the door as you roll over and hide your face into a pillow.

"My muse. Look at me." You shake your head at that request. You can picture his worried face... he's too pretty to look upset its why you can't look at him. "Why not?"

"I'm so hideous master! Why do you let me look at you!" You finally start to sob. The bed moves as you try to hide your face more but he calls you his little doll for a reason. He pulls your gloves off delicately... your flesh trembling under his touch as he rubs your left hand. You slap his perfect chest and try to get out of his grip. The blessed and damned mask on your face makes getting oxygen in for your temper tantrum hard. Your robes are the next thing to go.

His hands move over your left side no mater how hard you try to slap his hands away as you shriek at him to stop. You sob as he moans and kisses your ruined flesh. His long forked dark purple tongue works its way into the spider web patterning of your burned flesh. You can feel his hard cock against you and being the brat that you feel like right now you kick it hard.

He moans in rapturous delight as the heel of your foot dug into the sensitive flesh. "My beloved muse... let me see your face!" He moans as you just sob and cover your eyes not being able to handle the way he looks at you. You cry more as he crawls over you, rutting against you, "Mmmm feel what you do to me. Let me see your face my muse! I know you've locked away your beauty... I am but a groveling mortal unable to handle basking in your grace all the time... but please let me just gaze upon your beauty. Let my muse grace me with her smile... let her grace me with her beauty!" He sings to you as you sniffle under him.

When you gently press against his chest he moves back watching with such reverence as you sit up and just gently touch your mask. "I can't... I'm so hideous." You sob out.

"Then let me take it off of you my goddess. " He all but moans out as you sit there and nod. The manic reverent look in his eyes makes you squirm as he pulls the mask away. The entire left side of your face... acid and flames burnt your skin... most of your left arm... your left breast... lucky for you your leg was spared but you have been burnt. Your left eyelid droops slightly as you look at the perfect angel... you run a hand over the bald spots on the left half of your scalp and the sad patches of hair that try to grow through the ruined skin.

You avert your gaze feeling embarrassed at the way he goes to touch himself... lewdly moaning as he pleasures himself to you simply sitting there. It doesn't take too long before you feel warmth spray against your skin as he paints patches of your skin white. "Stop... please stop." You sob.

"Why?"

"I'm hideous."

"If you think that... " He says pushing you onto your back as he looms over you and his eyes glow a purplish-pink from this angle. "It means I haven't worshiped you enough recently. Oh my poor little muse no wonder you weren't having fun at the party or trying to distract me. I can tell you're feeling self conscious. Let me worship you. Not anyone gets my cum little muse. And I have so much to give you. So... will you let me worship you?"

You feel your breath shutter at the intensity of his gaze just like the first time you two met... you whimper softly, "Yes." You say and wrap your arms around his neck as he greedily goes for a kiss... and the hours- no days blend together as he worships you.

#tw: yandere #tw: nudity #tw: body horror #tw: body insecurity #tw: dubious consent #tw: Slannesh #emperor's children #Yandere #Yandere Space Marine #Yandere Emperor's Children #warhammer 40k

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h4venpha · 1 year

Note

had this idea about chigiri for a while but I don't write. he'd be the typa dude who absolutely refuses to admit his romantic feelings about someone no matter what. he's good at not making it obvious too. only thing that'll rile him up would be one of his friends' (using Isagi as an example below) asking if they can hit on "his girl"

Sum along the lines likeeee

"you sure you don't like her?"

"i said no."

"alright so i can go for her?"

"if you go missing by tmrw, don't be surprised."

me when my brain is filled with possessive chigiri🤷‍♀️

ok lets pretend like my last five posts arent all abt some form of jealousy and possessiveness…

but l I LOVE PINNING AND POSSESSIVE CHIGIRI. i actually had a draft abt pinning chigiri but i never finished it 🙁

i feel like definitely at some point he ALMOST hinted smth about his feelings for you in front of his friends, AND ALL THEY DO IS TEASE HIM ABT IT.

↳ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 “𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃”

mutual pinning, possessiveness, isagi is kinda of a perv, fem reader

isagi leans his arm against bachira’s shoulder as he throws his head back and laughs. it was so early in the morning, chigiri couldn’t understand how they were so rowdy already. he yawns and rubs his eyes just as isagi shoves him, almost causing him to poke his own eyes out.

“dude what the fu-“ chigiri’s about to push him back but he stops when he sees the smug look on isagi’s face. “wh-

“here comes your girl,” isagi teases, and chigiri notices the way bachira’s eyebrows start wiggling.

“shut it, she’s not my girl,” chigiri grumbles and raises his fist pretending to punch his friends right in their smug faces, ignoring the way his own face starts to feel warm.

“chigiri!” you sing as you come up behind him. he sends death glares at both isagi and bachira before clearing his throat and turning around.

“what is it?” his voice calm and composed, completely opposite of his rapidly beating heart, which only beats faster as he begins wondering what the glistening gloss on your lips would taste like.

“here’s your notes,” you say as you hand over the papers.

“oh, i uh-“ suddenly imagining brushing hands with yours while he takes them from you.

“thanks for letting me borrow them, chigiri!” and before he can say anything more, you’re already skipping away towards your own friends.

he watches you as you walk away again, just like all of the other times he became too hesitant to say anything else.

when he turns back around, both isagi and bachira have grins on their faces.

“stop it,” he dead pans, already knowing what they were going to say.

“you’re soooo obvious!” bachira jokes as isagi joins in.

“just ask her out already, everyone already knows you’re in loooove!” they’re laughing and making kissy noises now.

“i don’t! i don’t want to ask her out, okay just fucking drop it,”

isagi peeks around chigiri’s shoulder to watch you as you skip away, sly eyes watching your uniform skirt lifts up, revealing your smooth thighs. he grins.

“if you don’t ask her out, i might just-“

“back off, man.” chigiri says in a stern voice as he shifts his feet to block his friend’s eyes from raking over your body. “stop looking at her,”

“mr. protective boyfriend much?” isagi mocks with faux offense. “grow a pair or i’ll ask her out instead, simple.” a devilish smile splitting his face.

“fuck off, don’t go near her,” chigiri spits, tempted to put his hands on his friend for trying to snatch you away from him.

chigiri would ask you out but he couldn’t even handle a conversation with you without every cell im his body feeling like it was on fire. every time you ended up walking away, he swore to himself he would say something other than “um” and “uh”.

truth is, he was so caught up on the gloss you had on your lips, he hadn’t seen the fluster on your face or the way you fiddled with the hem of your skirt as you handed him the papers with shaky, sweaty fingers.

#chigiri hyoma #chigiri x you #chigiri x reader #chigiri x y/n #chigiri headcanons #chigiri fluff #blue lock chigiri #bllk chigiri #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #h4venpha #bluelock headcanons #bllk headcanons #chigiri scenarios

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petrichor-idyllic · 1 year

Note

Hi! Maybe a Minho x reader where the reader is already in the safe haven, and is doing some gardening while singing or dancing and minding her business and Minho sees her and recognizes her from before the maze trials but not entirely, and he feels attracted to her and tries very hard to get her attention and it's all flirty but also funny and a little embarrassing. Like an aftermath and it's all fluffy and cute and maybe a little spicy in the end:D

Man, your ideas are always so good. I absolutely love writing your requests omg.

MIRAGE OF THE PAST

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Fem!Group B!Ex-Runner!Reader x Minho. Kinda movie based fic.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, some suggestive themes, spice at the end, reference to Newt's death (sorry), group B slang from the wiki page but they might be fanmade but I'm going with it.

"Come on, Minho," Frypan groans as the remaining Gladers sit around the burning bonfire, "there's gotta be at least one girl here that you want."

This conversation had been going on for the past few weeks. Once the initial shock of surviving and escaping to the Safe Haven passed, the other boys (apart from Thomas) immediately started scoping out the women. Watching Gally and Frypan attempt to flirt with anything with tits is admittedly quite funny.

But Minho's not interested. Not only does he have to deal with the trauma of being tortured for half a year, but also the death of his best friend.

Romance had never been something he particularly took interest in, even if a girl would have come up in the Glade, or when girls started joining the group.

Sure, it's not like he doesn't have any frustrations or urges. He didn't really have much of an outlet for that kind of thing during his pubescent teenage years- and he figured years of pent-up sexual energy would've started to actually affect him by now. Especially with no Maze or WCKD to distract him.

But not really. Not at the moment.

"Dude," he grumbles, swirling the contents of his glass, "I'm telling you; I do not care."

"There's something shuckin' wrong with you, man," Gally scoffs, entertained more than anything as he drops his head. "There are girls eyeing you up left, right and centre- and you're telling me you don't care?"

Minho had obviously noticed the attention on him, but he'd always known he was good-looking. Even back in the Glade. The attention is, admittedly, an ego boost. And he enjoys watching his friends grumble and complain when some anxious girl approaches them, only for her to want Minho and leave with her tail between her legs.

"Nope- there's no one here I want, okay? Leave it."

Well, Minho was wrong.

The next day, he'd got roped into helping Thomas and Gally move bags of produce and seeds. Vince was too busy running the place, as per usual, so his normal daily tasks got thrown onto Thomas- something that he welcomed with open arms.

And that's when Minho saw you.

You spend a lot of time in the gardens- it's probably your favourite place in the Safe Haven. Similar to Minho, you ran the Maze in Group B, but you'd always had an affinity for plants and used to use the Gardens to calm down after a hard day. Now, it's more like using the plant life to relax after a hard life.

You prune away at the plants as you hum to yourself, dancing around and replaying the drums in your head from the previous night.

Thomas notices Minho's hesitation as he slows down, watching you from a distance. Gally is quick to also slow when he realises both of his colleagues have stopped moving.

Minho pays no mind to them. He's hit with a weird wave of nostalgia as he watches on, unconsciously admiring you. You're gorgeous; wearing the same casual clothes as everyone else, a jacket tied around your hips and your hair in a style he's already decided is his favourite.

What makes Minho's heart jump is when you flip the knife you're holding, tossing it into the air and catching the blade before throwing it. You're still dancing around and bobbing your head as the knife sinks into one of the wooden supports for a weak plant. It hits with a thud, easily holding in place and staying there as you crouch down to pick a tomato, mindlessly tossing it into a nearby basket.

Minho blinks. Processing what the hell just happened inside of him. The way you acted and how casually you just did that left some kind of impact on him.

Was that... hot?

Is that what the other boys call attractive?

Whatever. He can get over that. What he can't get over, however, is the strange feelings of familiarity he's experiencing. He knows you.

Somehow, he knows you.

"Hey, (Y/N)!" You perk your head up, looking in the direction of Sonya's voice as you stand up. She struggles through the shrubbery as you chuckle, slipping your hands into your pockets.

"Hey, Sonya. You good?"

"Yeah, Harriet, Aris and I are gonna grab a drink later, if you wanna join?"

"Uh, I don't know, man- maybe another time."

She groans as you turn back to your plants, dramatically flopping over you and throwing her arms around your shoulders. "C'mon," she drags out the word, "we never see you, anymore."

"That's not true," you gently and playfully shrug her off. It's kind of true.

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't become kind of elusive since you'd come here. You'd decided to enjoy your peace, and you were never a people person. But here, you don't have to protect everyone and stress about getting out of a deadly Maze. So, now you keep to yourself. You don't tend to join in on the late night drinking or partying. You've become a teenage Grandma.

"Dude," she crosses her arms, face suddenly serious, "one night. Hang out with us. Please."

"I'll think about it." You scratch the back of your neck, throwing your head back and stretching. You pull it back up, catching someone staring at you from across the sand.

Minho instantly tenses the second you make eye contact. Red starts to dust his cheeks as he pulls his gaze away.

Shit.

Gally barks a laugh. "Wow, Minho," he snorts, and even Thomas laughs along. "Thought you weren't interested in anyone?"

"Slim it, shuck-face," Minho grumbles as he walks past, his head dipped low as he tries to avoid your attention.

What is happening to him?

"Is it just me, or was Minho totally just staring at you?" Sonya asks, even though you shrug it off, returning to your work.

"Who?" You practically hear Sonya's neck snap with the speed she looks at you.

"Who? Did you seriously just ask me who? Uh, Minho? The hot Asian dude that was just completely gawking at you?"

"Never heard of him."

"Are you kidding me? He's the guy that everyone spent months tryna save from WCKD."

"We spent months tryna save all of you from WCKD."

"Yeah- but Thomas and Newt broke into WCKD Headquarters for him. He's kinda a big deal, dude- and half the girls here have a thing for him."

"Sounds like quite the catch," your tone is dull and results in Sonya rolling her eyes.

"Just... just come hang out with us later? We miss talking to you."

"Alright, finch-face," you huff, "I'll have a couple drinks later if it gets you off my dick."

Sonya seems satisfied with this, leaving you to it. To your own surprise, your mind wanders to the boy. You'd never been one for attention, and you'd not really had any advances here. So, why do you feel flustered at this random dude staring at you?

You, in fact, do not meet them later for drinks. But you do promise another time.

Minho, on the other hand, spends the next week watching you every chance he gets. Thomas and Gally silently agree to keep it between themselves, but it's kind of hard.

He feels creepy and stalkerish. But he can't help it- you're just so perfect and he's never been this anxious to talk to someone ever. He wants to talk to you, but he just can't bring himself to.

After much consideration, you decide to actually join your friends for one night.

The girls are very happy to see you and you offer a friendly hug to Aris, joining them and Brenda around the campfire.

Minho takes note of this, watching you laugh and chatter, the flames dancing off of your skin and the drink swirling around the glass in your hand.

Gally nudges his friend, caving in and having to gossip with someone else. "Fry, have you heard?"

"Hm?"

"Minho, here, is in love." Thomas snorts into his drink, having to put it down so he doesn't choke.

"Shut up, Gally- I am not." Minho kicks him.

"What? Have I missed something? With who?" Frypan, not very subtly, tries to get a glimpse of you.

"Shuck's sake," Minho grasps at his friend, forcing him to sit down, "Fry! Stop!"

"What? What? Is she hot?"

"Yeah, she's hot," Gally scoffs, earning a glare from Minho. "Think she's called (Y/N), or some klunk."

Frypan's face contorts into a grin. "Ha, (Y/N)? No way."

"What? You know her?" Minho blinks at his friend, shocked because no one else seems to know who you are.

"I mean, Brenda knows her-" he leans further forward in his seat "- she's from Group B, used to be a Runner for them. Don't really know much, but they all make her sound like the best of the best. Sonya and Harriet think the world of her."

"Wait," Thomas interjects, "if she's so close with them, how come we don't know who she is?"

"She's not much of a people person," Frypan shrugs, "prefers to be on her own- does her own thing kinda deal. That's what it sounds like at least."

"Great, that means you don't have any competition, Minho," Thomas grins at his friend. "Why don't you just go talk to her?"

"No."

"Why not?" Thomas' smile immediately vanishes. He knows Minho better than most people here. He thinks getting to know someone new could do him some real good.

Minho falls into silence. What reason does he have to not talk to you? Is he just scared? The man has risked his life literally every day for as long as he can remember but he's scared to talk to a girl?

Sounds about right.

"Well," Gally slaps his legs as he stands up, "if you won't talk to her, guess I will."

You could hear the cogs turning in Minho's head as Gally starts to walk towards you. There's no way he's about to watch Gally take the only girl he's literally ever taken any interest in.

The chair moves back as Minho stands up.

Gally gets to your group, opening his mouth but no words come out as Minho is quick to reach him.

"Hey," Minho has absolutely no idea where he's going with this, awkwardly standing with his hands in his pockets as he hovers over the group. Sonya looks at you, repressing a smirk at Minho's slightly shifty stance.

"Hey, Minho," Brenda smiles at her friend, oblivious to what's going on. "You okay?" Gally smirks, making eye contact with Sonya, raising his eyebrows slightly before walking away and returning to the other boys.

"Uh, yeah, just uh, thought I'd come say hi," Minho flinches at his own words, visibly cringing as his confidence dwindles.

"Well, uh, hi?" Brenda is visibly lost whilst Harriet is quick to catch on, also being told by Sonya what happened prior.

"Minho," Harriet, the boldest of the group, decides to move this forward, "have you met (Y/N)?"

Oh no.

"Uh, I don't- no, we haven't met." Minho is having some kind of internal panic attack. The poor boy is going to pass out any second.

"Well, (Y/N) here was our best- she basically ran the joint when I was busy."

"That's not true," you look at him, immediately shutting down Harriet's bragging. He feels very small under your gaze.

"Nah, it is- stop being so humble."

"So, you were a Runner?" You blink at this question.

"I... I never told you that?" Minho freezes. Ah, yes, me and my friends weren't just talking about you or anything. Totally.

"Uh, yeah, I'm just assuming, yanno?"

You shuffle forward, trying to hide the smirk threatening to cross your lips. "Yeah, I was a uh, what did you call it? Runner?"

"Yeah, were you a Keeper?" You blink at him, not understanding the slang that differentiates between the Glade and the Glen.

"What's a Keeper?"

"Oh, it's, like, the person that's incharge of the section."

"Oh, like a Jailer?"

"A Jailer?"

"Yeah- I guess what you called Keepers we called Jailers. But, no, I wasn't a... Keeper. Just did my job, stick."

"You shoulda been a Jailer, finch-face," Harriet complains, adding to an argument that you'd been having for a while.

"I didn't want to be a finching Jailer, Harriet."

"Yeah, but you woulda been so good at it."

"How are we still arguing about this?" Aris asks, earning a chuckle from you.

"Minho was a Keeper, though, weren't ya?" Brenda butts in.

"Oh, yeah?" Maybe Minho is hallucinating, but your tone sounds almost flirty, "What was that like? Can't have been easy tryna look after a bunch of boys."

"Eh, I didn't mind it. Kept me busy and I knew the Maze like the back of my hand- which made my job easier."

"Wow, that's quite the feat- I didn't even remember the Maze that well."

"Yes, you did," Harriet jumps in, and you send her a confused look.

"No, I didn't?"

"Yeah, ya did- I've been out there with you."

"No, I used pattern recognition to figure out what was coming next."

"Same thing."

"That is not the same thing," Minho defends you, almost naturally, which shocks himself.

"Exactly- you gonna argue with with two Runners?" Harriet puts her arms up in defence, accepting her defeat.

The conversation starts to flow more naturally, and Minho eases. You leave for a second, going to get another drink. This is going well. Minho has absolutely nothing to be worried about, and apparently, Gally is a decent wingman. Who would've thought?

Well, you approach again, not saying anything as someone shouts Minho, making him turn around without realising you're standing right behind him. He knocks into you, sending your drink into you chest, spilling it everywhere.

"Shuck," he hisses, watching you pull your lips into a fine line. The liquid drips down your chin and stains your favourite shirt, causing it to stick to your chest- something that Minho tries to not act weird about. "I'm- shit, I'm sorry."

You put the glass down on a nearby crate being used as a table. "It's fine," you say through gritted teeth. "I'm gonna call it a night, anyway."

You suck on your teeth. This is why you don't like people. You don't have problems like this without other people.

"Aw, what?" Sonya complains, but you're already walking away, wiping your face with your hand. "(Y/N)!"

Minho groans, rubbing his face before making eye contact with Brenda. "Smooth."

You resort to your typical demeanour, spending your time in the gardens and ignoring everyone.

"Have you tried actually flirting with her?" Brenda suggests, no fully in the loop even though it wasn't exactly hard to miss. Brenda, Minho, and Gally sit around a table, taking a break from the days workload.

"I spilt her drink down her- I don't think she'll appreciate me flirting with her." Minho huffs.

"She's pretty forgiving. You might as well try."

"I don't- I don't even know how to flirt with a girl- what do I even do?"

"Try and touch her as much as possible, tell her she's hot and that you wanna-" Gally's input is cut off by Brenda punching him in the arm.

"Just talk to her, compliment her, let her know you're interested and then let her make the move- don't listen to Gally, that'll just make her uncomfortable."

"How do you know?"

"Hate to break it to you, Gally, but I happen to be a woman."

"Yeah, but, I mean.." Minho stands up, sick of his friends bickering and all the teasing. He'll just take Brenda's advice and talk to you. It was easy enough last night, for the most part.

"What do you want?" You say before he even opens his mouth. You're crouching down, planting even more seeds in your already overgrown garden.

Not a great start.

"I, uh, I just wanted to apologise for last night. I didn't realise you were stood there and-"

"I already told you; it's fine."

"Yeah, but still," he sighs, "I feel like kind of a slinthead."

"I don't know what that even means."

"Right," he pauses, Brenda's words circling his head. Maybe he should try a compliment. "You, uh, you look pretty." You pause, not really saying anything for a second.

"Do I?" You're covered in dirt and in your gardening garb.

"I mean, yeah. I mean I think you look pretty- I mean you do look pretty- you are pretty- you look good, even when you- you always look good."

You look at him, a lop-sided smirk appearing in your face. "You wanna try that again?"

Obviously, you've noticed Minho's attraction to you. Actually, you've been told it both from your friends and from Brenda. This morning she came over basically begging for you to give Minho a chance, only to be pulled away by Jorge.

It's actually kind of cute.

"Shuck, I'm bad at this," he mumbles, "Yeah. Could I?"

"Be my guest."

"I think you're beautiful, (Y/N)," he says after a second to gain his composure.

Something about this clicks in your head. Your heart rate picks up as you look at him. For a moment, you understand the hype around Minho. He's objectively attractive, and him being an anxious stuttering mess around you is somehow only making him more appearing.

You stand up, scoffing to yourself. "Thanks, Minho."

God, his name sounds so good on your lips. He could listen to you say it all the time. He wonders how else it would sound when-

He stops himself.

It took you saying his name for his mind to start going in that direction? Maybe he's more worked up than he thought.

"Hey?" You wave your hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his trance, "You good?"

He cleats his throat. "Yeah, I'm good."

"You just gonna stand there or gimme a hand?"

"Uh, sure- yeah." You throw a bag of seeds in his direction. He fumbles slightly, but he catches it, not coming across as smooth as he would want to be.

He spends the rest of his day poorly attempting to talk to you. He even does that almost cartoonist thing where he tried to lean on a beam and completely missed.

Another thing you notice is the sheer amount of girls now looking in your direction. They're gawking over a working and sweating Minho and glaring at you.

"You're quite the eye-candy," Minho's heart nearly jumps out of his chest as he picks up another bag of fertiliser.

"What?" You jolt your head towards the small group of girls gathering. "Oh, right."

"Seems like you get a lot of attention."

"I don't want their attention," his tone is blunt and sturdy for maybe the first time since you've spoken to him.

"Oh, yeah? 'Cause you want my attention instead, right?" Minho freezes as you look at him, hand casually on your hip.

"What if I do?" Confidence bubbles in his chest. His tone is flirtatious, and he's starting to actually understand that this is how you hit on someone.

"Maybe you could try talking to me like a person instead of stalking me from a distance," and with that, Minho's bubble of confidence bursts.

"I wasn't- I didn't mean-" he sighs, "I didn't mean to be creepy."

You laugh. You actually laugh. And it's like music to Minho's ears.

"I don't get it," you shake your head, continuing with your shovelling, "you could have anyone you want here."

"Yeah, well, I don't think you're right about that."

"Huh? You clearly can."

"Not really."

"Why not?"

"Because I want you."

Maybe that was too forward from Minho. That much is clear when your moments stop, but when the red starts to creep across your face, he realises that he's actually cracked you.

"I- I, come on, man," you force a laugh to try and play it off, "you can't be saying klank like that."

"Why not? It's true."

"Dude," you send him a warning look. "Why me? Hm? You don't even know me." He falls quiet. You furrow your brows, confusion setting in. "Minho?"

"I think I do," he mumbles.

"What?"

"I think I know you," he says, more confident, "I know it sounds insane- but we obviously had our memories wiped- I don't know. You feel familiar, like maybe I knew you before."

You stand, silently looking at him. You honestly don't know what to think of this. He knows you? It's clear your memory wipe is stronger than his, but it does feel like you've met him before.

"Sorry- that's weird, I just-"

"Minho!" Frypan yells him from a distance, "Gally needs help building this shack! Come on!"

He anxiously looks at you, vaguely pointing in the direction of his friend before walking away, leaving you to process everything that's happened.

You told Sonya, Harriet, and Aris everything that had happened. Aris was lost, Harriet intrigued, and Sonya was practically frothing at the mouth.

It then turned into them pressuring you to talk to Minho instead, but you decided to leave it until you saw him again naturally.

That doesn't exactly happen.

Waking up early one morning, you come out of your hut and notice Minho sitting on the sand, in front of the waves, basking in the rising son.

Sucking in a deep breath, you gain some confidence and walk over to him. "Hey," he looks up at you as you stand behind him. You're in your casual running pants and sports bra, which makes his brain do a backflip.

"Hey," he's kind of surprised that you've approached him first, but you've spent the days between your last conversations thinking of him.

"I was gonna go on a run, wanna race?" A grin starts to cross his face.

"You think you can beat me?"

"No," you smirk, "I know I can."

He stands up, dusting off some of the sand. "Alright, girly, where we racing to?"

"From here to the Creek?"

"The Creek?"

"You don't know about the Creek? Bro, you're missing out."

He agrees to these terms and you both get ready. Counting in, you both start, though Minho stumbles slightly- clearly not used to the sand.

Despite your head start, Minho easily catches up. You playfully push him out of the way, which he's fast to return.

To get to the Creek, you have to cut across some of the sand dunes, which means leaving the beach. You take a sharp right, causing Minho to stumble as you book it through the dunes.

Loud laughs escape you as you throw your arms up. You grind to a halt, stopping at a large circle of rocks with a pool in the middle, accompanied by a small waterfall.

"You shucking cheat!" He catches up to you, slowly to a jog before he doubles over.

"Told you I'd beat you," you grin at him.

"Yeah, only because you're a cheater."

"Wow," he stands up straight as you step closer to him, "shoulda guessed you'd be a sore loser."

He presses his tongue into his cheek, humming as he nods, bitterly. "That's how you wanna do this, huh?"

"Gotta play the game."

"Hm, well, if you insist." With now warning, Minho picks you up, making you shriek as he throws you over his shoulder.

"Minho!" You cry out, kicking your legs but it's too late.

The water is freezing as he drops you in. You're submerged by the crystal-clear serene water in seconds.

You rise again, gasping for air as Minho laughs at you. "You bitch!" This just makes his laugh even more.

"Gotta play the game, right?" You splash him, making him step back. "Alright, alright!" He shields his face, running his fingers through his hair before he looks at you, a mischievous smirk appearing.

"What?" You dare ask.

Minho pulls at the bottom of his shirt, yanking it over his head. You don't mean to stare, but you do. He chest and mid-drift are chiselled as dark hair dusts across his lower stomach, leading further into his pants. Your mind goes fuzzy for a second.

You don't have much time to ogle though as he runs forward, pulling his legs to his chest and cannonballing into the water. Water spashes everywhere, drowning you once again as you turn to face him.

He re-emerges, flicking his hair before pushing it back. "Shuck!" He exclaims. "It's shuckin' freezing!"

You laugh at him, wheezing as you try to cat g your breath, resulting in you being hit by another wave of water that Minho throws at you. You respond this time, which ends up turning into a splashing match.

And then into a shoving one.

The Creek is filled with laughter and the sounds of splashing water, and neither of you remember the last time you had this much fun.

You keep sending small, concise waves in Minho's direction. "Okay, okay- stop. Okay," he swims closer, grabbing you wrists and stopping the movements. "That's enough."

Your giggles slow as he holds your hands in place. "Enough." Both of your chests rise and fall as he stands in front of you.

Minho thinks you're the most beautiful thing he's even seen. Your hair sticks to your face, water running down your collarbone and cleavage.

And, honestly, the feeling is mutual. The chuckles quickly stop as you both stare at each other. You can't help yourself when your eyes land on his lips.

Oh God.

Almost unconsciously, you move closer to him, and he does the same, like two magnets pulling towards each other. Your faces are mere centimetres apart as he drops your wrists, hands coming to your hips under the water instead.

Minho is hypnotised. You're so close, and the feeling of your skin under his fingers is making him feel almost drunk. He didn't know it was possible for a person to make him feel this way.

Faint shouting from the distance snaps you both out of your trance. People at the Safe Haven are waking up and the day is about to begin- both of your absences isn't going to go unnoticed.

You pull away, clearly your throat, "We should go. They'll wonder where we are."

"Uh, yeah- you're right."

Minho doesn't bother to put his shirt back on for the walk, letting the air dry his skin. Which is completely distracting, and you swear he caught you looking more than once. But he doesn't say anything.

Once you're closer, he pulls his shirt back on and you split up, mumbling some very awkward goodbyes.

You slip back into your hut, unnoticed, drying yourself off and getting changed.

Unfortunately, damp Minho had an audience the second he returned. He doesn't think he's ever got this much attention.

You and Minho suddenly become as bad as each other. Your conversations are brief but full of tension, so much so that your friends can notice until it all comes ahead.

You've, once again, been peer-pressured into having some fun. Leaning on a beam at the side of the party, you watch from afar.

Some girl came up to Minho about fifteen minutes ago, and she's beeb hanging off of him ever since. You've failed to join in on your conversation with your friends, who are exchanging some knowing looks between one another.

"I don't get it," Sonya says after a while, "you know he likes you, and you're clearly at least starting to like him- so why not do something about it?"

"What?" You pull your death stare away, looking at your blond ally instead.

"You and Minho? Finch it, being in the same room as you guys is enough to turn anyone on- so I can't imagine how you guys feel."

"You're looking to much into it; everyone likes Minho. I'm not about to be another girl pining for his affection."

"Yeah, but he likes you." Harriet joins in. "There's no competition because he's already yours. Sonya's right; do something about it."

You look at them before returning your gaze to Minho and the girl. They're right.

And you've had enough of this.

"Fuck it," you down the rest of your drink in one mouthful, slamming it down and making your way over to him.

Wordlessly, he notices you approaching as he sits amongst his friends, practically ignoring the girl. You take his hand as he looks up at you like a lost puppy.

He makes no hesitation to push the girl off, standing up and letting you lead him to literally wherever you want. Whistles from Gally and Frypan fill the noise from behind you, but you don't care anymore.

You pull him into your hut, the light is dim as you shut the door behind the both of you.

"(Y/N)? What are you-?" You push him backwards, making him hit the wall as you stand in front of him. Once again, your faces are painfully close.

"You still want me?" You mumble, nearly into him as his body goes limp, eyes becoming hooded.

He nods. "More than anything."

"Do..." the questions makes you cringe, somehow becoming nervous despite knowing you're not about to get rejected, "do tou want to be my boyfriend?"

Your eyes flicker down, not able to meet his gaze, and you hear him scoff. "Of shuckin' course I do."

The scene you look up at him again, his lips are on yours. It's a deep kiss, but a safe one, and you pull away from each other for a second.

"Damn," he smirks, "if I knew you were the possessive type, I woulda made you jealous sooner."

"Shut up," you grumble, pressing your lips back to his. It's feverish this time, his hands gripping your hips to pull you closer, whilst your hands come to his hair, tangling in his dark locks.

He hums into you as you pull on his bottom lip with your teeth, both of you move in sync as he leads you to the bed, falling on top of you.

His hands travel under your shirt, desperate to feel your skin against his once again as your bodies tangle together. You pull at his shirt, and he takes the hint, breaking the kiss to pull it off.

It gives you the chance to drink in his appearance. He's dishevelled and messy, panting with large pupils and parted lips. He's never felt this needy in his life, watching as you sit up, pulling your own shirt off.

You reconnect, Minho pushing himself between your legs, your nails digging into his back as he transfers his affection to your neck. You let out a shaky breath, which very nearly comes out as a moan.

It just pushes Minho further as he sinks his teeth into the sensitive flesh of your neck. Your body twitches, and you gasp, clinging onto him further.

"Minho," your voice is whispy and full of an emotion Minho hasn't heard before. He thought he liked hearing you say his name before, but now he could literally get drunk off of the word. "Please."

He grabs you thigh, hiking your leg up further as he grinds against you. Let's be honest, the boy has been rock solid since the first kiss.

"I've never..." He mutters against you skin, "I've never done this before. I don't really... know what I'm doing."

"You think I do?" You chuckle. "Do you want to do this, or should we wait?"

He pauses, looking at you. "I want you so fuckin' bad- I've never felt like this before. But if you want to wait, then I'll wait for as long as you need. Do you want to wait?"

Hearing Minho actually swear instead of the Glader slang is rare, and sends even more heat through you as Harriet's words ring through your head.

He's already yours.

He hovers on top of you as he waits for your answer, and you shake your head.

"No," you mumble, bucking up your hips against his, making him hiss and his breath hitches before you kiss him once again.

Another Minho piece woooo. I've got a couple of requests to get through now to keep me busy, so there should be some steady content coming out, but requests are still open. Also sorry if it takes me a bit to get to your requests, I promise I will get to them.

I hope you enjoyed :))

#🌿 petri writes #🌿 petri tmr minho #🍃 petri tmr #🌿 petri writes tmr #tmr fanfiction #tmr minho #minho the maze runner #minho tmr #minho tmr x reader #tmr imagines #minho maze runner

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danganronpafan777 · 11 months

Note

(You dont have to write this right away) dra male cast x reader that has the peronality of ibuki mioda like in the morning its like "good nom nom noming you sexy cutie"

I love this request sm Tsurugi Kinjo:

You were.... Interesting

With you and Yamato, he had two crackhead friends

He'd raise a confused eyebrow at some of the more random things you'd say, and would cover his ears everytime you had an instrument in your hands, whether you were playing or not

He's completely thrown off guard when you confess to him, but finds himself accepting your feelings anyway

Tsurugi never imagined himself with someone like you, who would distract him from his trauma and give him breaks from work by tackling him into the couch and cuddling him until he can't breathe

But he just can't keep himself away from you

You never hesitated to grab his work, and throw it across the room and hold him to force him to take a break

He would blush a bit whenever you wrote a song for him, and would have to cover his face with his arm to hide his blush if you actually played it for people

It would take years to convince him to do a duet with you, and his voice would be so shy and relaxing, but you can't record it or tell anyone about it He does his best to keep you out of trouble, and it rarely works

But for some reason, he still loves you

"Good nom nom noming you sexy cutie~!”

“…!?…Good morning, Y/n…”

Mitch Higa:

He didn't mind your personality too much, as he had met much louder fangirls in his career, but he never would have imagined himself dating you

Sure, he flirted with you and you replied with some witty comment, but he expected you to blow him off like every other girl in the class did for some reason

Even with his superiority complex, he will beg on his knees for you not to scream into your microphone again

He's get very confused at some of the strange things you say, and might even blush (to which he'd mentally slap himself)

If you wrote a song about him, no one would hear the end of it for the next week

He would brag about it to all his teammates and in nearly every interview of his to the point where you basically have to release it to the public

He'd try to seduce you in a duet, but would end up failing miserably Chaz Thurman style (please don't cancel me for that reference-)

Similar to what Haruhiko said about Satsuki, he jokes that of all the girls he wanted to be with in the class, he got stuck with the loudest one

But despite your eardrum killing music, there's no one else he'd rather be stuck with

"Good nom nom noming you sexy cutie~!”

He’s caught off guard for a moment, “You’re the cutie Y/n~”

Kinji Uehara:

He was slightly started by your upbeat and loud personality, but he didn't mind too much, having experience in dealing with hyper kids

Your classmates are impressed by his ability to calm you down-

He might ask a few questions at some of the strange things you say, but eventually just accepts that you say random things (He still might blush a bit at some of your more affectionate words)

He's a bit reluctant, but eventually agrees to perform a duet with you, having experience in singing through hymns in church

He's not a huge fan of your music, and might politely ask for you to turn it down sometimes, but he still supports you and your passions

He would invite you to play for the kids at the orphanage, as long as the songs were child friendly and wouldn't destroy their eardrums

During one of these private concerts, you played a song that he wasn't familiar with, and was shocked when you said it was about him

It was probably the most flustered and flattered you ever saw him, and the kids teased him about it for weeks, begging for you to play it again and again

"Good nom nom noming you sexy cutie~!”

“I’m…not sure what that means, but thank you…”

That doesn’t stop the blush on his face

Haruhiko Kobashikawa:

Didn't expect to have a classmate this loud, but was able to match your enthusiasm

He screamed when he heard you play for the first time, and his ears continued to ring for hours later, but he still supports you

Haruhiko might try to learn a new instrument such as the guitar (mostly to impress you), but would constantly forget cords and have no idea what he’s doing

If the two of you did a duet, he'd try to act cool and romantic but would end up forgetting half of the words

He’s confused and kinda concerned at some of the weird things you say, but will blush a bit when you say something romantic

If you made a song for him, he would brag about it for as long as he possibly can

The two of you are two loving and energetic idiots, and while Haru’s not a great singer, he’s your number one hypeman!

"Good nom nom noming you sexy cutie~!”

He’s red for a moment before responding, “Good..uh, whatever to you too! Haha.. you’re the cutie…”

Kakeru Yamaguchi:

He initially flinches at your loud personality, but eventually gets used to it

Meaning he can keep himself from passing out at some of the affectionate things you say to him

He'll timidly ask what you mean whenever you say something random, to which you'd always say something even stranger

You confuse him sometimes, but you still help him with interacting with others and expressing himself more

He was oblivious to your feelings for him, so Kinji and Kanata probably had to spell it out for him

If the two of you ever sang a duet, he might have to stop a few times, and you oblige, not wanting him to be uncomfortable

Your music definitely surprised him, but it does help him speak up (to ask you to please turn it down mostly-)

You like to perform private concerts for his sister, and use some of your tour money to help pay for her treatments

Kakeru's entire face would turn pink if you wrote a song about him, and would completely pass out if you even spoke about releasing it

From this relationship, you're able to remain serious at times, while Kakeru slowly lets loose and expresses himself more

"Good nom nom noming you sexy cutie~!”

Kakeru.exe has stopped working.

Teruya Otori:

He wasn't really expecting you to be so...loud, but that was alright!

He admired your talent and the two of you were fast friends

You, him, Haruhiko, Satsuki, and Kiyoka probably start a band together (Sunshine Squad-)

He makes his classic confused faces whenever you say something random, and even his ears would turn red whenever you seemed to flirt with him

He would be extremely embarrassed and kinda shy to do a duet with you, but would be more confident as he gets older, but he still would prefer to keep it between the two of you

The moment you mention writing a song about him, his accent would leak

"Y-Ya made a son'!? A-abou' meh!? I-um..."

He's happy! He really is, but he's also nearly at a loss for words

His face would get even redder if you released it to the public, and his dad would probably play it on repeat at Otori Mart to tease him

The two of you are extremely affectionate and happy together (but Teruya still blushes his head off in front of others-)

"Good nom nom noming you sexy cutie~!”

“W-Weh!? Y/n- um…G-good…nomming to ya too…”

His face is too red to say anything else

Yamato Kisaragi:

The both of you just clicked when you first met, and if he wasn't already a fan, he was now

He might yelp and cover his ears a bit at some of your louder songs, but he still jams out to "I squeezed out the baby yet I have no idea who the father is" while he's creating a million dollar invention

Mikako is starting to get worried about him-

It might take him a minute to process some of the random things you say, his brain trying to make sense of it, but if it's even remotely romantic, his brain might briefly shut off completely

Despite the pleas of literally everyone, He'll amplify your instruments and even add fireworks or create smoke machines for your concerts

He'll love to perform a duet with you, and will cry a bit in happiness if you write a song about him

If you actually play the song or release your duet to the public, he will be beet red for the whole day, but has never felt happier

He tries not to brag, he really does, but he just can't get you off his mind

"Good nom nom noming you sexy cutie~!”

He smiles wide, “Hey, Y/n! You’re the cutie!”

He cups your face and happily kisses you

Utsuro:

You tired him out honestly

It took a while for him to admit that he likes you, as every time you talked/yelled and lightened up a room with your energy, he'd think or say that he wants you to shut up

...So why didn't his luck do it for him?

He shuts down Akane when she offers that maybe he secretly doesn't mind you or your voice

Even before you started dating, you were affectionate and outgoing to him, throwing an arm around his shoulder and dragging him to some stupid class activity

Whenever he dozed off, either in class or in the safety of his dorm, you would either shake him away or loudly snore on top of him

It frustrated him to no end, but you never left his side

One day, Utsuro told you he could make you the biggest rockstar in the world, give you wealth, fans, inspiration, anything you wanted if you would just leave him be

You refused.

In a rare moment of seriousness, you told him that you knew how he felt, and how lonely he was deep down and he just wanted to be understood, not used for his talent

From that point, Utsuro saw you in a different light, and slowly but surely, he began to confront his feelings

Sure, you were his crazy and outgoing S/o, but at the same time, you were someone who truly sympathized and took the time to understand him

"Just leave the BGM to Y/n! I made a whole album for you, Utsuro!"

"...Thank you."

"Of course, cutie~! This is for you and -"

"No...thank you. For understanding."

Yuki Maeda:

His reaction to meeting you was the same as meeting Satsuki (except he found himself liking you more)

This one's going to be a handful...

He would always compliment your music and any song you wrote for him, even if you were practically screaming to the microphone

He had researched you prior to entering Hope's Peak, but he was happy to learn more about you!

You offered to teach Yuki how to play an instrument, and eventually he agreed to it

He was... mediocre at best, but he was still your boyfriend, and you wanted the world to see him

He can't really match your energy, and sometimes he feels more like your caretaker than your boyfriend, but at the end of every day and every kiss, the feeling of butterflies in his stomach lingers as all he can think about is you

"Good nom nom noming you sexy cutie~!”

“H-Huh!? Y-Y/n..!”

#danganronpa another #teruya otori #tsurugi kinjo #kakeru yamaguchi #yamato kisaragi #kinji uehara #haruhiko kobashikawa #mitsuhiro higa #yuki maeda #utsuro #dra utsuro #Dra #danganronpa x reader #dra x reader

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 2 years

Text

Metamorphosis | Bucky Barnes x Reader

H, friends! I was working on this fic and then got a message from @the-kestrels-feather asking for almost this exact story??? Tbh our brains are linked. They requested a non-binary reader, which I’ve never written before! So I’m a little nervous, but I did my best. :)

If you like my writing do me a favor and throw me a reblog 🥰

Warnings: Bucky’s trauma, anxiety, PTSD

———————

Now

Bucky’s head lay heavy on your chest, his mind finally quieting enough to let him fall asleep. His calm, rhythmic breathing brought a smile to your face as you gently tangled your fingers through his long locks. Knowing Bucky was getting the rest he needed always made you happier, made you worry just a little bit less.

The close friendship you’d developed with him was unexpected to say the least. You thought back on how everyone warned you about Bucky when you when you joined the team and moved into the compound. They said he was quiet, cold, aloof- and you’d prepared for him to ignore you completely. But he surprised you.

Things between the two of you started cautiously. You treated Bucky like a skittish stray cat, waiting for him to come to you at his own pace- and if he never came around, you’d understand.

But when he found you in the compound’s kitchen baking cookies in the middle of the night, he couldn’t stop himself from being drawn in by your gentleness.

-----One Year Ago-----

“Can’t sleep?”

Bucky’s deep voice startled you, forcing your heartrate into overdrive. He noticed the way you jumped and the wide eyes that betrayed your fear. He wasn’t sure if you simply didn’t expect company at 3am, or if you were afraid of who he used to be.

“Oh, sorry. I- I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just…” Bucky made his way to the cupboard and retrieved his favorite tea, “want a cup?”

With a simple nod, you accepted Bucky’s offer.

“I know this probably looks strange”, you motioned to the massive bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough resting on the counter and the mess that surrounded it, “but I’m not like, a weirdo or anything. I don’t always make cookies in the middle of the night”. Bucky gave you a simple nod, unsure of what to say.

“It’s just- I bake when I’m stressed. And I’m not used to living here yet…I kinda feel like a fish out of water, you know?” Bucky was all too familiar with the feeling of not fitting in, and still felt like an outsider after years of working with the team. “My anxiety won’t let me fall asleep, so...here I am,” you grabbed a fresh cookie from the cooling rack and extended it to Bucky, “wanna try one?”

He eyed the treat for a long moment before finally accepting. A smile instantly spread across his face as he chewed, and he couldn’t stop himself from shoving the rest of the cookie in his mouth. “These are really good”, he said with his mouth full, “thank you”.

Without hesitation, you grabbed the cooling rack and extended it to him, “have as many as you want, Sergeant Barnes. Er, James…? Bucky?” Embarrassment colored your cheeks a bright scarlet, “I’m sorry- I just realized that we haven’t spoken yet. I don’t know what to call you…”

Bucky let loose quiet laugh, “it’s alright. Um, Bucky. Bucky is fine”.

He extended his vibranium hand to give you a proper shake, but quickly withdrew and replaced it with his other one. An apologetic look filled his eyes and he looked away, embarrassed. He couldn't believe he'd slipped up so severely, offering you the one thing about him that scared almost everyone he knew.

Just then, the tea kettle began to sing, making both of you jump. Bucky quickly removed it from the heat and prepared his tea and yours, offering you the cup with a cautious smile.

An overwhelming need to remain in your presence tugged at him, but his trusty anxiety wanted nothing more than to make him scurry upstairs and hide from you. He opened his mouth to wish you goodnight before heading back to his room, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“Hey, wanna help me finish with these?” you offered him a cookie scoop and raised a brow at him, “it’ll be fun, I promise. And you can eat all the dough you want. Deal?”

He couldn’t believe how genuinely happy he was, how comfortable you made him feel. Spending this beautifully innocent moment together helped Bucky forget the night terror that had woken him not half an hour ago. And suddenly, he found himself opening up to you. It was only the tiny things- his birthday, where he grew up, his favorite book- but it was more than he’d told anyone in decades.

-----

After that night, you and Bucky slowly became inseparable. Something about you felt safe to him, felt like home. He was warmer around you, his sharp scowl melting into a tentative smile. He didn’t know how to describe it, but Bucky felt drawn to you. There was something about your warm smile and kind eyes that welcomed him in immediately, and he found himself desperate to spend time with you. He wanted to see with you whenever possible, and you returned the feeling tenfold.

Bucky had a quiet energy that set you at ease. While the world saw him as the cold, ruthless killer who’d carried out countless murders as the Winter Soldier, you saw him as the sweet, shy man who helped you make cookies at 3am. Bucky made you feel heard, made you feel seen. He quietly observed, picking up on tiny details that others would’ve missed. In seemingly no time at all, he’d identified all of your nervous habits, and knew exactly when to ask if you were okay.

And after Bucky knew for certain that he was safe with you, he opened up. He unlocked the vault in his mind that held every gory, gruesome detail of his time at Hydra and let you rifle through his memories. But you never pushed him. The two of you talked through his decades as the Winter Soldier at his pace, and when it grew to be too much, you were there to bring him back to the present. You had a way of grounding Bucky that made him feel more present than he had in years, saving him from the spirals and rabbit holes that often held him hostage.

It became glaringly obvious to you that Bucky had been suffering in silence ever since joining the team, opting to keep his pain to himself rather than trust someone with his secrets. But things were different with you. He couldn’t believe how easy it was to trust you, to let his guard down and be completely and utterly vulnerable.

After you took his hand the first time, Bucky realized just what he’d been missing out on. He hadn’t been aware of how desperately he needed human touch, how safe the affection of another person could make him feel.

It was this physical comfort that saved him from his nightmares night after night, bringing him peace he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. Before getting close with you, Bucky dealt with them alone. He’d eventually scream himself awake, his heart pounding in his chest while cold sweat dripped from his brow. You’d heard him every night since moving in, but only when you knew he felt safe enough with you did venture into his room.

-----Nine Months Ago-----

As they did every night, Bucky's tortured screams startled you awake. All you knew was that he needed help, and you weren’t going to let him go without it. Reflexively, you ran from your room and burst through his door, anxious to rescue Bucky from his demons.

His strong form thrashed beneath his sheets, cold sweat dampening his forehead. His screams were full of a tortured anguish you’d never experienced before, and the sound of his cries sent shivers down your spine. With a quick flip of a switch, you turned on the lamp by Bucky’s bedside, filling the room with a soft glow. Your gentle hands rested against his shoulders, adding only a tiny fraction of pressure as you called out to him.

“Bucky. Bucky, hey. Wake up. You’re okay-”.

Suddenly, Bucky’s eyes flew open. They were glassy with tears and wide with fear as he stared at you, unbridled alarm still coursing through his veins. His chest rose and fell at an increasingly fast rate, and he did his best to orient himself, but couldn’t seem to get his head on straight.

“Buck…” you reached for his hand slowly and took it in yours, grounding him in the present moment, “you’re okay- it’s me. You’re safe. It was just a nightmare.”

With that, Bucky slowly let his muscles relax. He stared down at his hand resting in yours, relishing in the sensation of your warmth. Just like that, he felt safe. He leaned forward until his forehead rested upon your shoulder, mumbling a quiet “thank you” as he tried to catch his breath.

“Want me to stay with you a while?”

Bucky nodded almost immediately.

“Then I’ll stay,” you gave his hand a squeeze, “I’ll sit here for as long as you need”.

But Bucky didn’t want you to just sit at his bedside. “Do you, uh…” he lifted the covers and invited you into his bed- something he hadn’t done since the 40’s. “Would it be better for you to lay down? It’s the middle of the night…I’m sure you’re tired”. You gave him a pointed look, silently asking if he was sure, and he delivered a confident nod.

With you under the sheets next to him, Bucky felt like he was home. But his demons still clawed at the corners of his mind, chipping away at the sense of peace you brought him. They thrashed and screamed behind the protective walls your presence built, desperate to break free and tear Bucky to shreds.

He wanted to ask you to hold him, to wrap your arms around him and keep him safe, but he never wanted to make you uncomfortable. He opted to simply hold your hand, squeezing it every few seconds to bring himself back to the present.

“Do you- Is there anything else I can do?” you looked over at Bucky and clocked his tense jaw, “If you just need a hand to hold, I’m more than happy to help. But…do you need, like, a hug? Do you want me to- to maybe hold you for a while? Or is that too much for you?” Relief flooded Bucky’s expression as you read his mind, “it’s not too much. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

With your arms spread wide, you welcomed Bucky into your embrace. His head lay nestled against your neck while your arms wrapped tightly around his broad shoulders, protecting him from the outside world. An almost imperceptible shaking rattled his entire body, the adrenaline still ravaging him from the inside. The shaking stopped, however, when your gentle words and soft touch guided Bucky back to a restful sleep.

-----

And so began the nightly routine. Every night you’d fall asleep in your room, only to be woken by Bucky’s screams. And just like that, you’d rush to his side and provide him with the comfort and safety he needed. The two of you would always fall asleep together after that, waking every morning tangled in each other’s embrace. You did your best to convince yourself that, if you went to bed in your room first, sleeping in Bucky’s bed for the second half of the night was completely innocent. But not even you believed that lie.

The two of you held great affection for each other, and no one had ever made you feel the way Bucky did- but you couldn’t tell him that. He was always overly grateful for everything you did for him, but he had no idea what he did for you every day. He was so kind, so empathetic, so understanding. He just wanted to be there for you, to make you smile when you were down. Bucky knew exactly how to make you laugh. And when you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was there. His arms felt like home, like nothing could hurt you if he was holding you. He knew everything about you and accepted you for exactly who you were, just as you did for him.

But Bucky had a hard time understanding how you could actually be okay with his scars, both mental and physical. And so he opted to keep the physical scars under wraps. He never let you see the damage Hydra did to his body, never let you get even a glimpse of his abused form.

The first time you laid eyes on the reminders of his past, it was completely by accident. Bucky kicked himself for not being careful enough, not shielding you from his ‘disgusting’ deformations- but it only brough the two of you closer.

-----Six Months Ago-----

With your duffel bag slung over your shoulder, you stepped inside the quinjet and thanked the universe that your mission was finally over. But just as you entered the cabin, Bucky’s deep blue eyes met yours in a look of terror. He stood a few feet away, almost hidden in the back of the jet, his top half completely bare. His insecurities screamed at him, begged him to put his tactical vest back on and obscure the gruesome evidence of his past- but he couldn’t move.

He was completely and utterly frozen with shame, his scars on full display.

To Bucky, they were hideous. The raised, uneven skin that told the story of his time at Hydra disgusted him more each day. Evidence of bullet wounds and knives taken to the torso littered his upper half, illustrating just how hard his life was as the Winter Solider. Bucky’s eyes flicked down momentarily, eyeing the biggest scar of the bunch. It ran the entire expanse of his shoulder, tightly hugging the seam of his vibranium arm.

It was gnarly and jagged, knotted and deep.

Bucky watched you and waited for you to react with horror- maybe even gag- but you remained silent. Your eyes flicked slowly over his abdomen as you took in each and every mark that made Bucky who he was. And when your gaze finally landed on the long scar that fused flesh to metal, he cringed.

With cautious steps, you closed the gap between the two of you. Tension buzzed in the air as Bucky’s stomach tied itself in knots, and he was certain the anxiety of it all would make him throw up. He knew you were kind and understanding, but the proof of his Hydra days was enough to make even the nicest person uncomfortable. It was almost too easy for Bucky to convince himself that the mere sight of his scars would leave your friendship dead in the water, but he was wrong.

“Can I…?”

You cautiously reached out a hand in the direction of his chest, stopping a few inches from the surface of his skin. Bucky wanted to say no, to reject your gesture- but the deep seeded need for comfort won his internal debate. He needed the gentle touch, the warmth of your hand, the peace brought on by physical connection with someone he cared about.

Unable to speak, Bucky nodded.

The pads of your fingers met his skin lightly at first, eliciting a quiet gasp from his chest. The sound filled you with regret and you almost moved your hand away completely, fearing you’d taken things a step too far.

But Bucky didn’t want you to stop.

He couldn’t believe how good it felt, allowing someone to gently touch the abused parts of himself. He’d known only excessive force for decades, and never imagined he’d experience gentleness again. But the way your hand gently ghosted along his skin gave him goosebumps. Your very touch left warmth in its wake and broke down the thick wall Bucky had built to protect himself. A deep, primal sigh of relief left his lips as you added your other hand into the mix, allowing it to gently lay against his largest scar.

“Were you nervous about me seeing these?” you stared up into his eyes, recognizing the fraction of worry that remained in his expression.

Once, more Bucky gave you a nod.

“I know you’re a good person- I know that you wouldn’t judge me. But I just- I really don’t want you to see me differently”. He let out a huff as he stared down at his marred chest, “I know they’re…unpleasant to look at. They’re pretty disgusting. And I thought that if you saw them, you’d be scared. I was afraid you’d put distance between us- I don’t want that”.

One hand left Bucky’s chest and moved up to his face, resting gently against his cheek. He leaned into the gesture almost immediately, desperate for as much physical contact as possible.

“They’re not disgusting, Buck. They’re you. Everything about you- even the stuff you don’t like- makes you who you are”. Bucky’s eyes flicked toward the floor. “I don’t want you feeling like you have to hide part of yourself,” you let one finger drag lazily between a few smaller marks near his clavicle, “we should play connect the dots with them. Who knows- maybe they form something cool? Like a velociraptor. Or a pretzel”.

Bucky’s eyes rolled so far back in his head that you feared they’d get stuck there- but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. His arms wrapped you in a bear hug and pulled you flush against his scarred chest, enveloping you in the warmth of his embrace. Your hands snaked up his spine, taking inventory of the scars that littered his back and shoulders.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed about the scars- or anything from your past. Especially not with me. Okay?”

-----

With you around, Bucky felt like a new man. Your presence warmed him from the inside out and made the hollow feeling that he'd plagued him for decades a thing of the past. He still flinched every now and then- out of instinct- when you raised a hand to play with his hair or rub his shoulders. Seeing him wince preemptively broke your heart every time, but the instances of fear slowly became less frequent.

He never had to wonder if he was safe with you- he knew. He trusted you not to hurt him; something he couldn’t say about anyone else. His defenses lowered a bit more each time he spent time with you, each time he felt your gentle hands raking through his hair or rubbing the length of his spine. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he didn’t feel like he had to protect himself. With you lying next to him, there was no need for hypervigilance.

You seemed to erode his defenses over time, like the ocean wearing away at a jagged cliff. Only one of his many defense mechanisms remained in place, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he felt comfortable letting it go.

-----Three Months Ago-----

Bucky had worn a pained expression all day, but wouldn’t give you a clue as to the cause. He sat through his debriefing, a team meeting, and dinner with Wanda and Sam, all while doing his best to hide his discomfort. But he couldn't hide it from you. You knew him too well, too intimately, to believe the manufactured facade that covered his pain like a mask.

It wasn’t until the two of you were alone in his room that he finally came clean. He dropped down onto his bed, grimacing the second his body hit the mattress.

“Buck? Can you talk to me? You’re clearly in pain- what’s going on?” You joined him on the bed cautiously, careful not to shake or jostle him in any way. His stormy blue eyes stared up at you and he did his best to prop himself up on his metal elbow- but faltered almost instantly.

“It’s my arm…” he lifted the vibranium limb ever so slightly, wincing as he did so. The look of confusion you wore would’ve made Bucky laugh- if it weren’t for the agonizing pain. “It’s not the arm itself- I mean, the arm is what’s hurting me. It rubs against my scar sometimes. It digs into the skin and puts pressure on what’s left of my joint”. He fell quiet for a moment and let his eyes drift downward until he found the courage to speak up once again.

“Is it okay if I- would you mind if I take it off?”

You cocked your head to the side, “Buck, it’s your arm. You don’t have to ask me permission-”

“No, I know. I just mean…I actually think I'd feel okay not wearing it around you, like I don’t need it. I know I don’t have to protect myself. But I don’t want to make you feel weird.”

Your fingers ran slowly through his long hair, gently scratching at his scalp like you often did. “It won’t make me feel weird- I want you to be comfortable. If not wearing it will make you feel better, then I want you to take it off.”

A small smile crept across Bucky’s face. He sat up slowly, grimacing as his metal arm dug into his scar tissue. His right hand moved upward, ready to undo the mechanisms that locked his arm in place- and then he stopped. He shot you a look, silently asking if you were sure, and your reassuring smile was all he needed.

His fingers worked nimbly to detach the arm from his body, a deep sigh of relief escaping his lips when the heavy vibranium dropped onto the bed.

“Better?”

“Better”

-----

The reminders of his past- his arm, his scars- brought him both physical and mental pain on a daily basis. With your help, the voice in his head that called him a monster fell almost completely silent.

When he looked in the mirror and ran his eyes over the version of himself that Hydra created, he couldn’t help but feel a little more at peace. You slowly helped him accept that he’d never be the bright-eyed kid from Brooklyn he once was, and he was okay with that. Together, the two of you found a way to help him grow comfortable with the scars that littered his body and the weapon that served as his left arm.

But something nagged at him.

He’d grown to accept his new reality, but there was one thing left over from his time at Hydra that wasn’t permanent.

-----Now-----

Bucky awoke suddenly, his head leaving its resting place on your chest.

“Buck? Hey, is everything okay?” you stared down at him, your hand still tangled in his long locks.

His intensity alarmed you. Only seconds ago, he'd been fast asleep without a care in the world- but a deep sense of urgency now set his eyes aflame. He quickly sat up and took a deep breath, the gears in his mind turning at an unmatched speed. He had a nervous energy buzzing around him that set you on edge. But just as you opened your mouth ask yet again what was wrong, he blurted out the reason for his unrest.

“I want to cut my hair.”

Admittedly, you hadn’t expected Bucky’s hair to be the cause of his sudden outburst. He’d taken you so off guard that all you could do was stare at him and simply repeat what he’d said.

“You…want to cut your hair?”

Bucky gave you a nod. “I’ve been thinking about it, and when I look in the mirror, I don’t look like me. I look like…him. I don't recognize myself. I can deal with the arm, and you’re making me feel better about the scars. I can’t change those things about myself- I’ll always have to have a replacement for my arm, and the scars aren’t going away, regardless of the serum. But the hair…it’s not me. I don’t…”

He swallowed hard, “I don’t want to look like the Winter Soldier anymore”.

All this time, you’d been so focused on helping Bucky find peace with the permanent side effects of his time at Hydra- but you hadn’t even considered the easiest fix. His long hair was a holdover from Hydra’s neglect, a sign of how little they cared about him. At no point did they think to give him the grooming he deserved, whether he was under cryo or fully alert. You thought maybe no one could get close enough to him while armed with scissors, but if they ordered him not to kill the barber, he’d obey. But you supposed that, just maybe, letting his hair grow was better than forcibly shaving his head and erasing even more of his identity.

“Of course, Buck. Let’s…” you reached for your phone and began searching the internet for barber shops in the area, “I’ll make you an appointment somewhere. We can-”

“I want you to do it.”

The phone slipped from your hand. Your eyes flicked up to meet Bucky’s but he didn’t crack a smile or give you a laugh- he was serious. “I’m not- I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to cut hair, Buck. I tried to give myself bangs once and the results were…disastrous”.

But Bucky didn’t care.

“Please? I trust you…" he ran a hand through his soon to be shorn locks, "I only trust you”.

And that was all the convincing you needed. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night; only moments later, you'd gathered clippers and a pair of scissors, ready to give Bucky a makeover. He watched you in the mirror as you took inventory of his long locks. Your gentle hands moved through his hair, weaving their way in and out while you decided on a plan of attack.

“Okay. Um…” your hands slid down and rested on his shoulders, “we’re gonna- I’m gonna start with the scissors and you know, make it shorter. And then just, like, clean it up with the clippers? I guess?”

Bucky chuckled at your nervous stammering. His cold hand snaked upward to meet one of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze as your nerves bubbled over.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect- it doesn’t even have to be good. I just want to look like me.”

“Well, you’re gonna look like you, but with a shitty haircut”.

He eyed your hand as you reached for the scissors, a familiar sense of dread filling his chest when the sharp blades caught the light. His instincts wanted him to disarm you, to rip the scissors from your hands and prevent you from coming near him with the pointed metal. But he fought against the reflex. He did his best to remain calm, but his shaky breathing caught your attention. Slowly, you replaced the scissors on the bathroom counter.

“I know you’re not gonna hurt me…it’s just a reflex”, Bucky spoke with his head down, still trying to get a handle on his anxiety, “It's just- I see someone with what could be a weapon, and the training tries to take over automatically- no matter what”.

“That’s okay. Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. We can-”

“Yes. I’m sure. Please, I trust you”.

And so began the transformation.

Armed with a pair of scissors, you slowly moved in the direction of Bucky’s long hair. His shoulders tensed and his brow furrowed as the blades got closer, and it took everything in you not to tear up.

“You’re doing great, Buck. Take a deep breath for me, okay?”

He did as you asked- just as you made the first cut. Slowly and carefully, you cut away at Bucky’s soft locks. The tension in his jaw seemed to let up ever so slightly as your familiar hands weaved their way through his hair like they had so many times before.

He kept his head down and his eyes closed, forcing himself to keep his breathing steady as the scissors carved their way through his long strands. He was doing so well, staying so calm and still for you. It was only when you heard a quiet sniffle that you put the scissors down.

“Buck? Hey, what’s going on?” you knelt at his feet, your hands resting on his knees, “talk to me. Do you regret doing this? Cause we can stop. I’ll just-”

He raised his head for the first time since your started cutting and met your eyes with his tearful stare. “I’m fine- I’m better than fine. This is…these are good tears. I’ve been thinking about this for so long. I’m just- please, would you keep going?” He flashed you a small, reassuring smile that launched you back into action.

There were a few pauses here and there for you to watch YouTube tutorials and look up tips from experts. When you finished with the scissors, a deep sigh of relief left Bucky’s chest. He leaned his head back for a moment and rested it against your body, smiling to himself as your familiar warmth set him at ease. But the loud buzzing of the clippers set him on edge once again.

Even though you’d warned him of the incoming noise, a sharp flinch pulled his muscles into hard lines as the sound vibrated inside of his skull. You quickly shut the clippers off, reinstating the peaceful quiet. But Bucky didn’t want you to stop.

“It’s okay- I’m fine. You can turn them back on…” he said with his head bowed, “I need this”.

And so you turned the clippers back on, once again filling the small room with noise. Bucky flinched ever so slightly as the sound grew closer to his head, but found all the comfort he needed in your free hand resting against his shoulder. His metal hand reached up, laying atop yours and giving it a squeeze for an extra dose of security. this jaw remained tense as the clippers worked their way up and down his scalp, but your hand resting under his was all he needed. And when you were finally finished, his new style actually looked pretty decent.

“Um, okay. I’m done. Give it a look- tell me what you think…” you waited with bated breath for Bucky to finally give his new image peek. It took him a long moment for him to gather the courage to face himself; he’d been forced into change so many times, and now that it was on his own terms, it was somehow scarier. With a deep breath, Bucky faced the mirror.

More tears welled in his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks as he took in the final product. He couldn’t believe it- he actually recognized himself. Staring back at him wasn’t a tortured killer, it was the James Buchanan Barnes he used to know. He was quiet as he stared at himself in the mirror. His gaze never wavered, almost as though he feared that if he blinked or looked away, this version of him would cease to exist yet again. He slowly ran his hand through his short tresses, feeling more like himself than he had in years.

His quiet stare made you nervous. You didn’t want to ruin the moment, but you couldn’t stop yourself from piping up, “Do you like it? If not, I can go find one of the guys, maybe they can-”

“The last time I looked like this, I was following Steve onto a Hydra train…”

The room filled with an eerie silence as Bucky thought back on that fateful day. He swore he could still feel the ice cold wind whipping across his face, the sensation of falling without any hope of a safe landing. A small shiver crawled up his spine, and you feared he may lose himself in the violent flashback. But a sudden light in his eyes gave you hope.

Bucky quickly turned around and enveloped you in a hug so tight you saw stars. He whispered thanks into the crook of your neck over and over again as the weight of the moment overwhelmed him completely. The two of you remained locked in each other’s arms for a few long moments, breathing together as Bucky regained his composure. The emotion of it all was almost too much but, as always, your presence brought Bucky back to earth, back to the present.

“Thank you. I know I just said it like a hundred times but…” Bucky pulled away and ran a hand through his hair, “thank you for doing this for me”.

The two of you walked hand in hand back to bed, exhausted from the 3am catharsis. Bucky’s head rested against your sternum as your ran your hand through his hair, getting accustomed to the new cut. Bucky’s body begged him to sleep, but he resisted the pull of rest. He had things he needed to say to you that were far more important than rest- but couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact. Instead, his head remained on your chest, your heartbeat bringing him peace as he spoke.

“I can’t thank you enough. For everything. I never thought…I didn’t think I’d get to have someone like you in my life- someone so patient and kind and understanding. You’re just good. I hope you know how much you mean to me, how much I appreciate you. You changed my life. And I don’t know how much longer I have left, you know? But I’m glad I’ve gotten to spend even a little bit of my time on earth with you”.

And now it was you who couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. A few tears welled in your eyes and dripped down your cheeks, dampening your shirt. Bucky heard the uptick in your heartbeat as your emotions swelled, but didn’t point it out. He simply held you a little tighter, waiting until you were ready to speak- and even then, all you managed was a shaky “I’m always here for you, Buck.”

The two of you finally drifted off to sleep, your bodies tangled together in a safe embrace. For Bucky, getting close to you was never about anything other than being your friend. He didn’t open up to you in the kitchen that night because he suspected that you might’ve been able to help him wade through the dark waters of his past- from the very first smile you shot his way, he was hooked. It was a happy accident that being near you helped him learn how to trust again, to accept himself for who he was and who he could be.

And your goal was never to fix Bucky- he wasn’t broken. People joked about him being a problem to be solved or a question to be answered, but you simply saw him as a quiet, tormented man who didn’t deserve even a fraction of what he’d gone through. But when he started to thaw out, to grow comfortable with the idea of closeness with another human being, you realized just how good the two of you were for each other. Watching Bucky slowly rediscover who he was with you by his side felt like watching a chrysalis crack open at the beginning of spring.

——————————-

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shy-urban-hobbit · 10 months

Text

Jumper

Ciri tried to ignore the shivers travelling up and down her body and pour all of her concentration into the Bestiary in front of her. She briefly entertained the idea of checking through the clothes chests again even though she knew it was pointless. Anything that hadn’t been totally destroyed by moths and rats had been claimed years ago and she didn’t want to invite ridicule by giving in and lighting the fires in this part of the keep early, not when they finally seemed to be steering away from the pampered princess taunts. Even if she would never be a full fledged Witcher, she was still a warrior in training. She’d seen the Witchers strip down to their undershirts during training and she’d grown up with the story of the time her grandmother had led a military campaign in the middle of a snowstorm. Ciri herself had spent weeks alone braving the elements on a daily basis when Cintra first fell. She could handle a little cold, damnit.

The page on Kikimora disappeared as something soft landed on her head and flopped down over her eyes, a slightly smoky and alchemical smell filling her nose.

“Can hear your teeth chattering from down the hall. S’fucking distracting.”

Lambert had disappeared before Ciri had fully freed herself. She recognised the green jumper immediately, having seen the Witcher wearing it a handful of times. It was surprisingly soft, with a couple of small holes here and there, evidence of larger ones being repaired with thread of a slightly different shade and a mark on one sleeve where it had been singed. Ciri didn’t hesitate to pull it over her head and tuck her hands into the too long sleeves as she turned her attention back to the book, finding it easier to focus as the feeling started to come back to her fingers.

Ciri sighed irritably as she sat up, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. She, Geralt and Yennefer had found a small hut in which to spend the night. Seemingly abandoned and for safety’s sake, Geralt had wanted it to stay looking abandoned. Therefore, no fire whilst he kept guard outside. Ciri knew she should be grateful that this was their first night sleeping indoors since leaving but it was spoiled by the fact that she was too cold to actually sleep. A small part of her regretted giving Yennefer her fur bodywarmer for extra warmth when she’d seen the witch trying to conceal her shivers; insisting she didn’t need it having gotten used to the cold after a winter at Kaer Morhen and she’d be fine with her bedroll now that they didn’t have to worry about the chill wind. It had been true at the time but now, in the dead of night, it was a completely different story. Not that she’d been sleeping well since they’d left anyway. The guilt over what she’d done whilst possessed, the anxiety of once again hiding on the road (even if she wasn’t alone this time) and to top it off, the feeling of homesickness she experienced whenever she thought of Cintra had now started rearing up whenever she thought of the keep. Was she cursed to leave every home she found?

She reached over for her pack and started digging down past her rations and the medical supplies all of the adults had insisted she pack, fully intending to throw on another of the spare tunics she’d shoved in the bottom somewhere. She stopped when her hand encountered something soft and slightly bulky, giving a slightly watery smile as she held it up. She wasn’t sure when Lambert had snuck it into her pack, but she’d never been so glad to have had somebody go through her things. She pulled the jumper over her head before tucking herself back into her bedroll, falling into a doze as the smell of smoke and chemicals enveloped her like the hug he'd given her before the gate to the keep had closed behind her.

“Miss you too, Lambert.”

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #witcher ciri #princess cirilla #ciri #cirilla fiona elen riannon #witcher lambert #lambert

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cinamun · 10 months

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I don't think either of them are ready. If Jayce's easy button answer to "I'm scared" is basically "there, there" and not an attempt to get Hope to articulate her fear so they can work through it without her throwing herself at him, then he's not taking her recovery seriously enough. No matter what she's ultimately scared about, its hard enough for "well-adjusted" folks to even speak those words, but for someone working through what she is, saying such a thing can sometimes feel like they aren't making progress. I know he wasn't intentionally being dismissive. I don't doubt that cares and wants the best for her, for himself, and for them, but maybe he's assuming too much about the pace of her recovery. And considering everything, I think he needs to live a little longer as a legally bound partner before taking on fatherhood.

Hope still has a lot of healing to do. She has a lot going on. Workaholic/Perfectionist--She was forced to dial back on work. Guilt-ridden--Though misplaced, it still dwells in her. Newlywed--Life-affirming exercises aside, she still doesn't know Jayce that well as a legally bound partner. Consider that by the time she advances to one session every two weeks, the baby will be singing I'm Coming Out. Will she actually have had enough time to stabilize a new normal? Will she have had enough time to feel like the self she wants to be? Will she have had enough time to fully honor her responsibility to herself before taking on the responsibility of someone else?

But as Dr. Ian Malcolm says, life finds a way. So ready or not, if there is a baby on the way and she chooses to carry to term, then this is where my greatest concern lies. Hope has to be fully conscious of that fact that she is in a position to be the first to break the cycle of less than ideal parenting circumstances. If she still has things that have not been resolved, then, try as she might, those issues will continue to manifest until dealt with. And I think that she would set her recovery aside or significantly slow the pace--basically, grin and bear it, maybe actually believing that she'll dust off that work at the first opportunity--so that in the present she can be the best parent and partner in parenting she could be, though doing so may unfortunately bring about the opposite results.

My other concern is that if she happens to miscarry while early in her recovery, it may set them both back a great deal.

There are so many possibilities that come with an untimely period! I suppose my question would be, and you bring up great points, how long should they wait and how ready *IS* ready, anyway? Their plan was to get married, travel for their honeymoon, come home and have babies and love on each other. Elliot snatched all of that away so imagine Jay (I would say he wasn't dismissive, moreso, that's kinda their communication style. Remember when he had to be super direct with her during the whole Kenji Debachle™?), continuing to put his brand new life on hold for the actions of a man who almost killed his wife and ultimately any future children he'd have with her.

So how long should they wait?

Jay said at the cathedral that they were leaving to finish what they started across the street at the chapel and Hope (after some hesitation) got in that limo and dipped out. We know Hope, she's strong willed. She would have told him about himself if she didn't also want to leave.

Another example:

Jay also said "All I've ever BEEN is patient" during that argument about her "college friends". And he wasn't wrong, right? He's always very patient with her. So the nudging he's doing is how he helps her along. Hope, as an overachiever, needs a lot of reassurance. Jay comes in clutch with that and that is what we see him doing.

Last thing because I realize I'm writing a novel here lol

Hope is acutely aware of where she stands in the line to break generational curses. She was aware of it when she ran away as a teenager and even before that when she honored her grandmother by teaching her auntie to respect sex work. One thing we don't have to worry about with Hope is her repeating anything her grandmother did as a mother. Indya and Darren's parenting broke an entire generation of curses because look at how they are raising/ed their children! Hope is 2nd in line to break curses, not the first and its a beautiful thing to have witnessed.

Yes everyone is still in therapy after a major traumatic event a couple months ago. Yes they just became legally bound but I fear they'll be waiting forever if they wait for simulated life to give them perfection.

#story stuff #we're on it y'all!#babygate is upon us

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our-destiny · 1 year

Text

Day 7 of @creativepromptsforwriting's 30 Days Writing Challenge - Use the words: small town, bar, jukebox

30 Days Writing Challenge Masterlist

Word count: 591

. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ . * ✯. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ .

Sam really wasn't a good singer. But he did have a lot of passion when singing, so you had to give him that. "Dancing Queen" was playing on the small jukebox, and Sam was getting really into it, much to the annoyance of Bucky. The bar had closed a few hours ago but you, Bucky and Sam stayed behind to hang out, just the three of you. Bucky owned the bar, after he finished making amends with everyone in his book, he moved out here to retire, the small town giving him a sense of peace and allowing him to be away from all the fighting. He never thought he'd own a bar but when he found this place it was in shambles and gave him something to work on, something to keep his hands busy. Now it was a full functioning bar, quite popular with the locals. Bucky liked feeling like he was giving back to the community, like he had a purpose, and he always made sure women felt safe here, not hesitating to throw out some creep if need be. He guesses that's the good thing about his metal arm and overall scary demeanour.

You and Sam come visit him sometimes, staying behind after hours to catch up. Or to drunkenly sing ABBA, as Sam was doing right now. The three of you were sitting in a booth, Sam sitting next to Bucky and obnoxiously singing into his face while you sat across from them, nursing your drink. Sam was drunk, and though Bucky couldn't get drunk he still had a drink of his own sitting in front of him. When "Take On Me" started playing Sam got up to dance, if that's what you could call it, the empty bar making a perfect dance floor for him. Bucky leaned across the table to say to you, "I'm gonna ban him permanently from here."

"Oh, come on Bucky, you like 80s music too, you should join him."

"I don't like 80s music, and I don't dance either." That was a lie, you've seen Bucky tapping his feet and singing under his breathe to some songs from the 80s. And Good God, Sam cannot hit those high notes, no matter how much he tries he still sounds like a seagull getting strangled. But at least he was having fun, unlike Bucky.

"You can still sing along even if you don't dance. Plus, everyone likes "Take On Me", it's a great song."

"I also don't sing, y'know." At that point you stopped listening, choosing instead to belt out the lyrics, Sam getting very excited when he saw you were joining in. You also couldn't hit the high notes, but you were going to try, even if you also sounded like a strangled seagull. You vaguely noticed Bucky hide his face in his hands, no doubt annoyed that there was two of you singing now, before he started to slightly nod his head in time with the music. You ignored him, knowing that he would get embarrassed if he knew you saw him, just continuing to serenade Sam while he clumsily danced. Eventually Bucky dropped his hands, a smile on his face as he started to quietly sing along, watching you and Sam really put everything into this performance.

By the end of the song Bucky was singing his heart out, not as loudly as you and Sam but it was obvious he was enjoying himself, a large smile on his face while he was nodding his head to the beat.

. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ . * ✯. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ .

Reblogs are like cake. Really fucking delicious <33

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karkles-does-things · 2 years

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“ looks pretty rough to me. “ “ i’ll manage. “

Alright okay alright okay,, alright. Okay cool okay. On it.

Word Count: 1.5 k

CW: mild injury, mild blood

-----

The moon and stars illuminated the Doom Swamp, turning everything sickly and pale. Callie stood by the riverbank. There, carefully and slowly, they pulled off their glove and rolled up their sleeve.

The magical fabric was self-mending, but their skin was not. Meg's knife had left a long gash that curved from their elbow to their wrist. It was shallowest by their hand, completely scabbed over, but got deeper as it traveled down their forearm, so that the last four inches or so were still oozing blood.

Callie hissed behind their mask, muttering curses under their breath. They looked briefly at the water, starting to bend over, then took in the murk and the stench and thought better of it.

"How's your arm?" asked a voice behind them.

Callie jumped and whirled around. Ah.

Jax had come up behind them while they were distracted, and was standing with his arms crossed. The bruise he had left on their wrist not three days ago gave a twinge just looking at him.

Callie swallowed hard. "Oh, it's fine!" their mask replied, voice chipper. "No worries!"

Jax looked at them like they'd suddenly started speaking another language. "Looks pretty rough to me," he said.

"I'll manage!" said Callie amiably, with a dismissive wave of their hand. "After all, it's not her fault! The mist made her do it."

Jax made an expression caught comically between confusion and concern.

Callie took his silence as an opportunity to turn around and pretend like they knew what they were doing about it. "Seka-a-a-i de, ichiban ohime sama-a-a~" they sang quietly.

"The mist made Meg mad," said Jax. "It didn't make her attack you."

Callie stopped singing with a gulp. They could hear the Army Man's footprints growing closer behind them.

"Plus, even if it wasn't her fault, you still got hurt." He stepped up beside them and glanced markedly down at their arm. "Lemme see."

Callie took a step back, mask flickering silver.

Jax lifted his hands disarmingly. "I'm not gonna pull anything funny. Promise."

Callie didn't move or speak. As the seconds stretched on, their mask slipped into its avian shape.

Jax pressed his lips together and clicked his tongue in disappointment. He put his hands behind his back and stared out over the polluted river.

Callie didn't take their eyes off him.

"If the mist made people attack each other," Jax continued, changing the subject, "you would have attacked Meg back, yeah? But you didn't."

Callie hesitated. "I knocked her unconscious," the mask offered, voice passive and confused.

"You could have done worse. I saw it. You could have killed her, if you wanted to, right?"

Callie looked down. "...I don't know."

"And what about me?" Jax continued, turning back to face them. "You could have let your...thing eat me. But you didn't."

"My thing?"

"The thing!" Jax exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air to impress scale. "Your big-! Fucking-! Fur-thing! The freak!"

Callie tilted their head. The eyes of their bird mask narrowed slightly. "Simeon is not mine," it said firmly. "He's his own."

"Fucking- whatever!" Jax sputtered. He stepped towards Callie, jabbing a finger at them. "He was going to kill me, but you talked him out of it. What I want to know is why."

Callie stood their ground. They stared at Jax for a moment, then straightened their posture and looked him in the eyes.

Jax looked surprised. He leaned back out of their face, just a bit.

"I already explained my reasoning," Callie explained, voice level. "What I said to him was the truth. He didn't actually want to kill you. I don't think he would have, even if I hadn't shown up."

"How do you know that?"

"I don't. But I think if he'd been going to, he would have done so right away. He didn't want to do it. He just needed someone to remind him of that."

The air was still for a moment, the growls and chirps and distant screams of the Doom Swamp's fauna filling the air with a miasma of death.

"You could have told him to, though," said Jax.

"Pardon?"

"You could have told him to eat me. You could have egged him on. He would have done it, you know he would have."

"Why would I do that?" asked Callie, tilting their head.

Jax sputtered. He gestured to their arm. He gestured to himself. He gestured in an all-encompassing way at the fire in the distance, and then gestured at their arm again. "Because-!" he exclaimed. "Because!"

Callie stared at him impassively. They bent their arm to look at their wound. Then they let it fall to their side and stared out over the river.

"That isn't important."

"But-?"

Callie lowered their head. "I will not ask him to do anything he doesn't want to do, just for some pointless revenge," they said quietly. "And I won't cause trouble when I'm already imposing on you all."

Jax stared at Callie, mouth agape.

Callie stared out over the water. They were hugging their own arm to their chest, rubbing their thumb over their purpling bruise.

Jax tightened his lips. He stood straight up and thrust out his hand. "Jackson," he said.

Callie flinched, standing upright. They looked at his arm, then at him. "...What?"

"My Name is Jackson." The Army Man nodded to his outstretched hand. "Take it."

Callie haltingly reached out and took his hand. Jackson shook it.

"You know what Names mean here, right?" he asked, hand still in theirs.

"Y-yes, I know," said Callie. "My name is-"

Jax pulled away in a flailing of limbs, clapping his hands over his ears. "AZHEDEHAH- NO! Don't give me YOURS!"

"I- but- you gave me yours!" Callie exclaimed. Their mask was melting back into its normal shape, gleaming yellow.

"That's not how it works, dipshit!" Jax spat. "Your Name is a big piece of you! You don't give it to just ANYONE! You want people to be able to Invoke you? P-puppet you around?"

"B-but you gave me yours!"

"I know! But-!" Jax huffed in frustration, dragging a hand down his face. "Okay. Look. Rule number one of this World is that, unless it's, like, really important and you don't have a choice, you shouldn't give your true name to anybody you don't trust. It's not about if they gave you their name, or if you feel like they should have your name, or if you're trying to prove that you trust them - it's about whether or not you can actually look at someone and be like, 'yeah, I'm comfortable with being in their power.' Can you say that about me?"

Callie paused. "...No," they said.

Jax spread his arms in a wide, displaying motion. "Well, there you go!"

"But if it's as big as all that, then- why-?" Callie stammered, shaking their head.

Jackson blushed. He crossed his arms and shrugged. "It's not always about 'orders,'" he said, doing air quotes. "Sometimes it's just like, 'hey, I wanna be able to hear you if you call me.' Like if someone needs help, or whatever." He pointed at Callie. "I hate owing people. So if you're not going to 'cause trouble' with anyone here and you can't ask the big guy to do it for you, you can just hit me up." He grinned and used his thumb to point to his chest. "Because I happen to be a big fan of causing trouble."

Callie still looked unsure. "O-okay," they said.

"Plus," Jackson added proudly, "I'm an Army Man, which means Captain's orders come first. So if this turns out to be a massively bad decision, he'll bail me out! Trust me, that's, like, his whole job."

Callie looked decidedly more sure at that. "Okay," they repeated, nodding.

Jax put his hands on his hips, looking incredibly satisfied with himself. After a moment, he sighed through puffed cheeks and jabbed his thumb back towards the fire. "So, wanna get someone to take a look at that? You really don't want to keep shit like that untreated out here, you'll get an infection."

"Oh," said Callie, looking at their wound with new gravity. "That would be bad, wouldn't it?"

"Yep!" said Jax brightly. "Come on." He waved his hand and started back towards the fire.

Callie trailed after him, looking more confident.

"I know either Will or the Captain would be happy to check it out," Jackson continued. Oh, and Al's great at suturing, if you like him well enough. They put twenty-three in my side once, look!" He turned around, walking backwards and beaming wide, and pulled up his entire shirt to reveal a massive scar in his torso.

"Oh, wow." Callie tilted their head. "How did that happen?"

Jackson gave a sharp laugh. "Okay so, I made this bet with Kate-"

Far above, in the trees, a pair of glowing yellow eyes watched the two of them make their way back to the fire.

The watchful light in Simeon's eyes subsided as the figures below made it back into safety. He rumbled thoughtfully deep in his throat, his tail swinging like a pendulum.

Then he pulled himself back up into the canopy and vanished from sight.

#introducing this side character who serves a small but integral role in Callie's development and whom I love dearly #jax tag #unit tag #callie tag #my ocs #my writing #chaos story lmbao #simeon tag #a little bit lmao

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