#i just have a bad feeling he'd be pining for someone or something his whole life and nothing would come of it except regret... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

petrichor-idyllic · 2 years ago

Text

LONGING FROM AFAR

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: Minho x fem!Med-jack!reader. Kinda mutual pining. Takes place before Thomas arrives.

Minho has always been confident and cocky, that is until a girl shows up in the Glade, completely changing the dynamic. What makes it worse is that Minho recognises her, though he doesn't know where from. It doesn't help that he's having some less-than appropriate dreams. The last thing he needs is an injury out in the Maze, leading him to being treated by you. Little does he know, it's not just him experiencing everything.

CONTENT WARNING: language, suggestive content and spice, minimal use of (Y/N). Pretty long but bear with.

Minho noticed a lot of things about you, even at the beginning.

When he got back to the Glade and heard about a girl coming up, he thought Newt was telling him a bad joke. But it was the truth. There you were.

Minho wasn't going to talk to you. He had no intention of distracting himself from his work. But the night you showed up, he was the same as everyone else. All eyes on you as you stared into the flames of the Bonfire

Newt had been put in charge of looking after you since Alby was sceptical about trusting the other Gladers just yet. He sat beside you on a log, offering you a drink and talking with little to no response.

You didn't seem scared. Or even uncomfortable. You just looked lost; like you were still processing what was going on. And the Maze and your life now was something you never really wrapped your head around.

Minho could tell you didn't see the boys as a threat. It wasn't that they wouldn't try anything, it was that you seemed confident in dealing with it.

Your baggy jacket had the hood pulled up, your hair falling around your face and the fabric being used as a shield. Something that would become somewhat of a trademark of your look.

But the thing that stuck out was he knew you. He couldn't point out where or how, but he did. He figured he'd known you before the Maze. It wasn't uncommon for Gladers to say they recognise people, like when you know someone's face but can't figure out where from.

But this was different. He knew you, like actually knew you. He hadn't spoken a word to you, yet he could make some pretty accurate guesses about you. All of which ended up not being that far off.

Even as time passed, whenever you were there, Minho's gaze always fell on you. You didn't say much to anyone, really. You were often found with Newt, who seemed to be your favourite Glader.

You would eat and spend free time with Newt, and he would guard you whilst showering. It was also obvious to Minho that Newt enjoyed spending time with you as well. He seemed brighter and spoke about you a lot; something that Minho didn't complain about.

But it did make him feel weird.

When you became a Med-jack, there was a string of "injured" Gladers who were very disappointed when they ended up getting treated by one of the boys. The medical hut had never been so busy.

Once the new Greenie came up after a month, Minho realised he was jealous. You were nurturing yet forward and the Greenie clung to you like there was no tomorrow.

I know her. She's mine.

The thought shocked him. He wasn't like that; at least he didn't think he was like that. He had no right to be like that, you guys had never even spoken.

That was when the dreams started.

Heated breath against his neck. His fingers bruising your waist. Unholy noises that filled his hut. Feelings he had never experienced before.

The dreams would vary. Some were loving and filled with sweet nothings and slow, caring intimacy. Others were rough; more forceful. Full of passion and greediness as need would consume him whole.

He'd always wake up the same, though. Flustered and frustrated and having to get up to work before he could deal with himself. It was definitely starting to cause a problem in rising sexual frustration.

He didn't really get it before. The other Gladers were always complaining about how horny they were and the straight dudes always pining for a girl to show up. Typical teenage hormones. But Minho had always been too preoccupied to even think about it. His goal was freedom and survival. And now a girl he had never even spoken to was making him go feral.

"Dude, are you good?" Ben had been watching Minho for a while as he leaned over the table in the middle of the Map Room. They were meant to be comparing routes and examining them before they headed out into the Maze for the day.

Minho had been staring at the same piece of paper for about fifteen minutes. Clearly, none of it sinking in.

"Minho?"

"Hm?" The boy looked up, meeting the concerned gaze of his friend. Minho had never been like this. He was always on the ball, noticing things that Ben wouldn't have ever even paid attention to. Yet, he was totally spaced out.

"Are you good?"

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're acting shucking weird, bro. The shuck's goin' on?" Minho wasn't about to admit that the reason his abilities were slipping was because he was being haunted by his wet dream from the previous night.

"Nothin', alright? I'm good."

This went on for weeks. Newt picked up on the change and he was the first to figure out why. He told Minho to talk to you but at this point, Minho couldn't bring himself to. What would he even say? How would he even interact with you like a normal human being after he'd had you in every position in his head?

Newt found it hilarious when a conversation about the complete lack of female anatomy knowledge started at Bonfire night. It was one of the few conversations the both of you had been involved in, even if you still weren't directly speaking.

Being a biology expert and a vagina owner, it quickly turned into a lecture that the boys were surprisingly respectful of. They seemed eager to learn and you weren't ashamed about talking about it, since sex education was just another health topic. Though Minho didn't know how to act when he found out you were on birth control.

Minho's red face and avoidance of eye contact with, well, anyone just egged Newt on more. He asked at least once a day if he'd gained the courage to talk to you yet.

He had not.

He started actually liking going out into the Maze. The Maze was when he got to be alone. The breeze blowing through his hair, his mind occupied with keeping track of his path and an ironic sense of freedom. And he was a safe distance from his nagging friend.

That was until he turned a corner and nearly ran face first into a Griever. Grinding to a halt, the slimy, grotesque creature turned to face him. Without hesitation, Minho took off, turning around and sprinting as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

The Griever easily gained ground on him, swiping and slashing from mere metres away. In his escape, he tripped, his feet catching over themselves and he fell to the floor, twisting his ankle.

The Griever wasn't able to stop in time, practically diving over him and rolling to a stop once it realised its mistake. One of it's mechanical arms slicing his back and he hissed in pain, praying that he wasn't stung. He didn't have time to process what had just happened as he scrambled to his feet.

Grievers were scary but dumb. This was common knowledge amongst the Runners. The fleshy monstrosity was yet to turn around as it seemed to be trying to process what had happened itself.

Fighting through the pain, Minho sprinted away in the direction he'd just fled from.

His leg was in agony, his back bleeding but he didn't stop. Running as fast as he possibly could towards the safety of the Glade.

After a couple of swift turns and a lot of painful footsteps, he dared look back. The Griever was gone. He was safe.

"Shuck this," he mumbled to himself. He had plenty of time and was meant to be running his route, but there was no way he could even begin to think about daring to do that in this condition.

Minho started making his way back to the Glade. The desperate urge to stop and sit down and rest was intoxicating. But he wouldn't get up again, and he knew it.

He didn't even realise his face was bleeding until he entered the corridor leading to the Glade and the crimson liquid dripped off, hitting the stone floor. He must've cut it on a rock on the floor or something.

Entering the Glade, it didn't take long for him to be noticed.

"Minho!" Alby's sharp voice cut through the serene farm setting. "The shuck are you doing back?"

Alby jogged towards him, his face shifting from irritation to concern once he noticed the Runner's injured state.

"Shit," the Leader grumbled, "Newt! Get the Med-jacks!" He shouted in the blond's direction.

"Minho," he approached the boy, "Hey, Minho," Ably grabbed him, wrapping his arm around his back, only for Minho to jolt away in pain. "Shuck it, what happened?"

"Griever," Minho grunted.

"Did you get stung?"

"Do I look like I've been stung?"

"Alby!" Jeff shouted as he approached. "What's going on?"

"Minho got attacked by a Griever, he needs checking. Now."

Newt, Clint and Jeff scrambled to help the injured boy, all three of them in a state of panic. It was rare for Minho to get hurt. It was even rarer for him to get this hurt.

They half-dragged Minho towards the Med-jack hut as the boy tried his best to keep himself going. In the midst of the chaos, Minho had completely forgot that you are, in fact, a Med-jack.

"Holy shit," you gasped and Minho's head snapped towards you. "Newt, what the shuck happened?"

"I-I don't know," the blond spluttered out, "he said he got attacked by a Griever."

"Shit, sit him down," the boys do what you tell them, walking him over to the bed and struggling to place the Runner safely. "Minho," your voice is soft and Minho knows that if he wasn't in agony he wouldn't know what to do. "Do you know if you've been stung? How are you feeling?"

"Like a klunk in a t-shirt," he attempted to joke, "no, I'm not stung, just cut up."

You examined him, taking his face between your fingers, taking in he features and the cut across his cheek. He moved his arm slightly and you caught a glimpse of the blood slowly soaking through his shirt. Walking around, your eyes widened.

"Take his shirt off," you directed your coworkers. "Now, c'mon."

"What?" The thought of being shirtless in front of you somehow freaked him out more than his recent brush with a Griever.

"Your back is bleeding badly," you stated, "and I have to check you for any other injuries."

You moved out of the way to let the boys help Minho undress, leaving him embarrassed and exposed. Not that there was anything to be embarrassed about. Minho looked like he had been carved out of stone. He spent all day every day exercising, so it wasn't much of a shock, but you still had to remind yourself not to get distracted.

The main focus was sorting out Minho's back and to check for spinal damage. Luckily, it was just a minor cut that was bleeding a hell of a lot.

Minho seemed to be incredibly jumpy. Every time you touched him, he flinched away. You used glue strips to pull the skin back together and wrapped the bandages around his middle. With Minho becoming visibly tense when you pressed your hand against his abs from behind to stabilise the fabric, you assumed that he didn't like physical contact. So, you became cautious to touch him as little as possible to try not to make him uncomfortable.

That was easier said than done when it came to addressing his facial injuries. It didn't look that bad; a surprisingly clean cut.

You stood in between Minho's legs, his face once again between your fingers as you delicately tried to pull the sides of the wound back together. Clint and Jeff were busy making sure Minho's back was appropriately covered and preparing more supplies for you accordingly and Newt was just watching.

Unbeknownst to Minho, you'd actually been sharing the same far away glances. You'd drunkenly confessed to Newt during a game of truths that Minho was the only Glader you were actually attracted to and it felt like you knew him. But with him always being out in the Maze and you always being busy with work, you felt like your paths weren't really meant to cross. You lived in the same place, but it was painfully obvious Minho didn't want to interact with you.

What you failed to tell Newt was that you felt a strong connection with the boy that was basically a stranger. He was unbelievably familiar to you, something you failed to explain even to yourself.

Newt was getting frustrated himself with the stubborn awkwardness you both possessed, but all it did was further prove you'd be a good match. He'd decided to stay and observe because Minho was his friend, but it was also because this was the first time either of you had actually interacted.

You were oblivious to it all at the moment. The panic of Minho being injured caused your anxiety about talking to him to vanish and be replaced with focus on your work. You were also oblivious to Minho's lingering hands as he fought to urge to put them on you waist and the puppy-dog look he couldn't seem to stop.

He'd never been this close to you. The closest being your sex ed lesson. He took the opportunity to watch you. Your face was stoic and firm as you concentrated on placing glue strips in a way that wouldn't be uncomfortable. He couldn't help but find the way your brow furrowed and the way strands of hair escaped your poorly tied up hairstyle cute.

God, you were so close. Too close. Close enough for all of Minho's dreams to start filling his head. He tried desperately to stay calm and distract himself but it wasn't working. You were being so gentle and attentive.

"How does that feel?" You asked absentmindedly, something you did to all your patients. It was such an innocent question that is made Minho even more flustered due to the context he'd previously heard it in his own head. "Minho?"

"It's uh, it's fine- it feels good. Well, not good, it feels klunky- but not like bad, like you've done a good job it just hurts. It.. it feels okay," you raised your eyebrow slightly, a small smirk playing on your lips. Minho inwardly cringed but you were entertained.

From what everyone had told you, Minho was smart and smooth, often overly confident and quick with his wit and even quicker with his actions. Maybe it was the injuries, but the Keeper of the Runners was currently a stuttering mess in front of you.

"Does anything else hurt?" You didn't falter at Minho's response. You're a professional, after all.

"Uh, yeah, I think I rolled my ankle."

"Which one?" He tapped his left leg and you nodded. "Can you take your shoe off?" He winced as he attempted to do so only for you to gesture him to stop.

You lowered yourself to the floor, kneeling in front of him as you untied the laces of his running shoes, trying to be as gentle as possible removing it.

Minho thought his brain might actually melt. You were on your knees in front of him, nursing to his injuries.

He made eye contact with Newt as you rolled his trouser leg up, examining the potential damage. Newt was grinning like an idiot. He had never seen Minho like this. Clint and Jeff were oblivious to whatever was going on and Newt felt like he was in on a well-kept secret. All Minho could do was glare at his friend.

"It looks sprained," you mainly said it to yourself but it quickly dawned on Minho what that meant.

"What about running?"

You looked up at him, pressing your lips into a thing line. "Sorry, buddy, you're gonna be out of commission for while." You rose again, hands in your pockets as you looked down at him. "You've got off pretty lucky all things considered. The cuts aren't deep, they just look bad and your ankle just has a nasty sprain. It should be better in a week or so, but that's only if you rest and stay off it."

"You gotta be shucking kidding me." You scoffed at Minho's dismayed.

"Don't worry too much - I'll give you some regular check-ups and keep an eye on it. You'll be back in the Maze in no time; I'll make sure of that." You playfully winked at him in an attempt to ease his nerves, which seemed to work.

You turned to Newt, "You gonna break the news to Alby or should I?"

"The shank should be happy Minho here is still bloody kickin'," Newt stood up straight, stretching slightly. "I'll go let him know."

You left Minho sitting there as you started talking to Clint and Jeff, telling both of them to go on break since both boys were suddenly very pale and slightly shaken up. You figured losing Minho would have been a massive hit to the Glade and for a second there, it felt very life or death.

"What am I meant to do now?" Minho asked as Clint and Jeff left.

You shrugged. "Whatever you want, man." You walked back over, returning to your position standing in front of him. "You've got a week off, enjoy yourself - well, not too much but you get what I mean."

Unlike Minho, you were having a surprisingly easy time talking to him. Almost natural.

"If you're bored, you can always chill here. It's not like serious injuries are common. You guys are pretty good at your job, so we mainly just deal with Slicer incidents." You were trying to be subtle about it but you were hoping that Minho would take the casual hint to spend some time with you.

You suddenly remember something, walking over to a cupboard, you pick up a makeshift crutch that was leaning against the wood, curtesy of Gally. "Here."

You handed him the crutch and he clearly didn't want to take it and admit defeat, but he did.

"Thanks," the conversation and interaction had reached it's natural end, but despite Minho's determined avoidance, he found himself not wanting to leave. "Can I, uh, can I stay here?"

You grinned at him, "'Course you can. I just said you could, didn't I?"

And that was it.

You and Minho were officially friends. Kind of.

It took a while, but Minho spent most of his week off talking to you and you both fell into a routine. He liked watching you work. You could effortlessly multitask, patching up people's injuries and maintaining a conversation with him.

Newt was also a welcomed addition during your free time. Well, to you at least. Minho wasn't exactly a fan of watching the pair of you talk and mess around. Your relationship with Newt seemed natural and friendly, something you and Minho were yet to have. Or he doubted ever would ever have. He also started to notice some flirting.

He hated it.

Minho had never been a possessive person, but watching you flirt with his best-friend was invoking even more complicated feelings in him.

It was a joke. Minho didn't know it was, but it was. You and Newt flirted all the time - because it was funny. Newt wasn't attracted to you at all. He had made that abundantly clear but that also meant you trusted him because it meant he wasn't going to try anything. And it was funny watching his disappointment when he didn't think the new Greenies were attractive.

Minho was unaware that it was a joke, though. So, by the time it came for him to go back into the Maze, he was reluctant.

Mainly because he was scared of running into another Griever, but also because he couldn't keep an eye on you. He hadn't exactly been keeping an eye on you before but seeing yours and Newt's dynamic up close wasn't pleasant.

Though, the Maze was a break. An actual break this time and a much needed one.

He'd often spend dinner time sitting with you and Newt, but for the rest of it, Minho would make himself scarce. Even when he was in the Glade.

It didn't help that the dreams were getting worse and it didn't take a genius to see that the tension between the both of you was thick. Exchanging glances, standing near each other when you were both involved in a group interaction, Minho's constant watchful gaze. It wasn't just Newt noticing it anymore.

"Dude, will you quit staring? You're freakin' me out." Alby leant against a post as Minho sat on a log, once again observing from a safe distance. Newt had informed him of Minho's growing crush and Alby had decided to keep an eye on things. He knew that Minho would never do anything to make you uncomfortable, but he still liked to make sure things were running smoothly for you. After all, being the only girl wasn't easy.

"I'm not staring," was Minho's response, even though he didn't bother stopping his glare.

"I thought you two were friends now?"

"She'd rather be friends with Newt."

The comment struck Alby as he looked at his long-time friend. Bonfire nights had become like clockwork to the veterans of the Glade, so neither boy really joined in on the festivities.

"Minho, are you jealous?"

The silence was loud and more than enough of an answer for Alby. Minho dropped his head, some kind of shame washing over him.

"Shuck me," the Leader barked a laugh, a rare occurrence, "you actually really like her, huh?"

"Slim it, man," Minho grumbled.

"Well, you better act on it, shank, you've got some competition," Minho figured Alby was referring to Newt, but when he looked up and saw Gally's arm draped around your shoulders, he felt a pit form in his stomach.

You made no effort to push Gally away, he was drunk and definitely not a threat. You weren't even talking to him; you were talking to Newt, who kept giving you gesturing looks, silently asking if you wanted him to deal with Gally. The Builder had originally done it as a flirty gesture but had seemingly forgot that he'd even done it in the first place.

For Minho, however, it was the straw that broke the camels back. Newt? Sure, whatever. He could get it - he liked Newt as much as anyone would, he was his best-friend after all. But Gally? Seriously?

He was on his feet before he'd even processed what he was doing himself, marching over to you. Gally said something, gaining your attention, which is why it startled you when Minho grabbed your wrist. You turned, prepared to rip your hand away only to soften when you realised who it was.

"Hey, can I talk to you?"

You blinked at him. Minho was hard to read and his ever-changing personality and treatment of you had you lost most days. You glanced at Newt, who seemed equally stunned at Minho's sudden confidence.

"Yeah, course, what's up?" He simply nodded in a different direction, gesturing for you to both leave to have a private conversation. You pushed Gally's arm away from you, thoughtlessly following Minho as he dragged you away.

He let go once you'd left the buzzing crowd of the Bonfire and you silently followed him to the edge of the Deadheads. He stopped near one of the closest trees and turned to face you.

"Is everything... okay?" You felt nervous, fiddling with the hem of your jacket, something Minho noticed.

"Uh, yeah," he took a deep breath, collecting himself. He didn't know what he was doing but, low and behold, he was doing it.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Right, yeah," he cleared his throat, "okay, this is gonna sound shuckin' weird but I've just gotta say it, okay?"

"Okay." You tried to stay calm, but you could feel the bubble of stress starting to form. Did he know? Had Newt spilled the beans? Was he about to reject your silent desires?

"So, I, uh, I think I know you," you once again blinked at him and he shuffled awkwardly, "I don't know how to describe it - I just do. Ever since you first came up in the Box, I just- I just wanted to be around you."

"I thought you were avoiding me?"

"Well I was, kinda, I didn't want to get distracted from running- and then there was the dreams and I didn't know how I'd even talk to you and-" Minho had started rambling pretty quick. All his stress from the past few months starting to pour out.

"Dreams?" Minho froze. How exactly was he going to explain that bit? Why the shuck did he mention it to begin with?

"Uh, yeah, I don't wanna- I mean I didn't mean to- you're just so- shuck!" He exclaimed, his face growing redder by the second, "I'm bad at this. I don't know why I brought that up."

"I'm not gonna judge you, dude," you reassured him. "I understand brain klunk and it's weird. Dreams are normal."

"Yeah, but not these ones," he sighed, pausing to gain some courage, "I've been having these dreams, about us, uh... doing.. things."

"Huh?" You tilted your head. Then it clicked, and it was now your turn to get flustered. "Oh! Oh. Oh, right."

"Yeah," he scratched the back of his neck, refusing to make eye contact. "I don't know what it is, but I like you. Like, I really like you. And I know that's weird because we've only been friends for a couple of weeks but I can't help it. I don't want to think of these things but I can't help it and it's starting to cause a problem." He finally looked at you for a second. His rambling caused him to repeat himself as he stopped thinking about what he was saying before he said it.

Your expression was blank as you tried to process everything he was saying. He seemed genuine, and genuinely embarrassed about the whole thing.

"Sorry," his eyes fell to the floor, "I don't wanna make you uncomfortable and you can shut me down and we can just be friends- I don't care about that as long as we're fine. But watching Gally hang off you, and the new Greenies look at you. And the way you and Newt flirt all the time- it just, shit, it just makes me mad, dude. I can't take it, watching everyone want you when I want you too. I mean-"

"Minho-"

"It's driving me mad. Everything you do is stuck in my head-"

"Minho-" you stepped forward, though he's too in his own head to even notice.

"I just couldn't keep it to myself anymore. And Alby was saying all this klunk and-"

You cut him off. Lifting his chin to look at you, you pressed your lips to his. He froze, completely. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

"Shut up, Slinthead," you mumbled, pulling away slightly, basically saying it into his mouth, "I know you too. I want you too."

That was enough for Minho. He pushed his lips against yours. It was sudden and bold as he pushed against you. Your bodies moulded together as your arms went around the back of his neck, your fingers brushing the short hairs at the base of his head. His hands went to your waist under your jacket, pulling you impossibly closer.

The kiss quickly becomes passionate and heated, his fingers brushing against your skin under your shirt, padding against your flesh. You hummed in response, just pushing him further as he span you around. Backing you up against a tree, your back hit the bark, earning a squeak.

He broke the kiss and the way he looked at you made your knees weak. He gaze was full of a mix of lust and want, but also was loving and cautious. He didn't want to over step, but he was desperate. The frustrations were finally coming to the surface and he knew he had to stop himself.

"I can't..." He panted, "I can't do this anymore. I need you."

He was making you weak. It wasn't like you'd never been aroused before but this was different. You couldn't even form words as you connected back to him. A guttural, deep noise escaped his throat.

Things were moving fast as your hands left his neck, dipping lower and and under his shirt. Feeling his skin and his solid mid-drift. You grazed your nails against his skin and his teeth lightly brushed your bottom lip.

This wasn't the plan. But at the rate things were moving, you didn't want to stop it either.

"Holy shuck!" Newt exclaimed, dramatically throwing his hand over his eyes, scared to witness anything else unsightly.

You and Minho stopped, snapping to look at your embarrassed friend. Minho stepped back, awkwardly crossing his hands over his crotch as you tried to catch your breath.

Newt awkwardly peaked through his fingers before sighing from relief and lowering his hand.

"Uh, the Runners wanna talk to you about Maps or some klunk - Alby wants an update on how it's going."

Minho cleared his throat, "Right, yeah. I'll uh- yeah." He looked at you, "I'll uh, I'll catch you later, right?"

"Mhm."

"Cool." He brushed past Newt, not daring to make eye-contact, knowing he'd hear all about it later anyway.

Newt looked at you, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

"You finally spoke to him then?"

"Shut your shucking mouth, Slinthead."

Woah, Petri actually writing a piece of fanfiction? Mad. Anyway, here is my first actual writing piece on here and I know the TMR fandom is kinda dead, but I love Minho with my whole heart and he's probably one of my favourite all time characters, so I figured this would be a good place to start.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think. :))

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

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theeoriginals · 11 months ago

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Thoughts on how Elijah would snap under sexual tension? I know that man is feral I feel it in my soul 😩

you're so right let me get into it

18+ below the cut

elijah is known as the most level headed but we all know that's not really true. the man has so many feelings and even if he does appear calm on the outside, he is always battling something internally

including sexual tension

he's a total martyr so he'd have some sort of "you can't touch her, you'll ruin her" thing going on in his head, and the whole time you're sitting there like "does he even want me?" and it turns into a whole "will they won't they" ordeal with so much mutual pining

he wants you so bad... like so bad it consumes him

and he's abstained from this you for so long that of course there will be a breaking point. it could be him seeing you with another man, it could be a random tuesday that he sees you and the sun happens to hit you just right and all of a sudden he finally, finally, knows what your lips taste like

he knows the sounds you make when someone kisses the breath out of your lungs. he knows what you look like with his hands on you finally, and now he is never, ever, going to give it up

elijah i think is an addict in that way. he can withhold so many things and he can keep a straight, level mind, but the second he lets himself indulge in one thing, he's diving head first into the deep end and doesn't care if he never comes back up for air

so once he finally indulges himself in you, he knows that he can't ever go back to his life before

and even though it was an explosion at first, all of that tension finally boiling over, it doesn't stay like that

when he finally gets you into bed, elijah is devastatingly gentle. he treats you like you're glass, and he knows he is more than capable of breaking you. though he isn't showing hesitance anymore, he treats you with care and it kind of breaks your heart to think that he was ever depriving himself of this

this, of course, being love. let's call it what it is.

elijah falls in love so poetically and despite all of his flaws, and his ability to turn into that brutal original vampire that they tell stories about, he loves you softly.

so the first time you have sex, it's hot and passionate and it's sticky, and he never stops touching you and he never stops kissing you because he never wants to forget what it feels like. and you think he's one of the most selfless lovers ever, but he feels so, so selfish because every bit of pleasure he's inflicting upon you is for him. it's so that one day, when he thinks he won't have this anymore, he remembers what it was like

he's nothing if not a fatalist

so even though you guys go the distance, he loves you every time like it'll be his last. he's lost too much to do anything else, and he thinks you deserve the world so he'll whatever it takes to hopefully measure up to that

#this got kinda sappy #but I'm passionate about this and I stand by it #elijah mikaelson #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the originals #kol mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #fic recs #elijah mikaelson headcanon #smut hc #the vampire diaries smut #the originals smut

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mysticmilks · 9 months ago

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Dark rise 3 theories

Just finished the first and second book in one go, and want to write down my raw theories, until I forgot them.

Sun King is BAD (shock to no one). A pretty obvious one tbh — we never saw his face, Sarcean said he'd done some 'dark deeds' for him, but no one remembers him, saying he just 'disappeared'. I call it Suspicious. Maybe he even was the one who ordered the creation of the cup to enslave other Kings

Sun King is either related to Sarcean or to James (kinda don't feel like using his nickname). Either older brother or father. My bet goes on the older brother of Sarcean (but my secret wish is that he's the Father of James (to make ALL of his father figures assholes)). But probably we haven't seen his face exactly because he looks very similar to Will/Sarcean.

Sinclair either knows that about Sun King, or, more likely, he is Sun King Reborn (or Sun King possessing someone's body). That would also make him manipulating James especially horrible.

If Sinclair is Sun King, that might explain WHY there were false beliefs that the Collar would make James obey to whoever put it on him. If James and Sarcean knew that Sun King/Lady also can return it would be a nice trick to make them seek to put the Collar on James instead of killing James and/or destroying the Collar

Lady is probably also not as Good as everyone thinks, she is a Grey Character, way too obsessed with the idea of defeating Sarcean, or she is fully Bad, maybe even manipulating her husband Sun King

White death is connected to Lady (also a pretty obvious one), cause she is the one who killed Kathleen and sent Sandy back. (Why she can't travel in time herself is an interesting question)

Collar, collar, collar. It's currently revealed that the Collar does at least two things — shares Will's powers with James (Will felt the cold exactly the moment James puts the Collar on, and James can do powerful magic even after opening the Gates), and gives James his past life's memories back. So... it would be a bit strange to give such protective powers to the object that was meant to enslave James. So probably it doesn't control James in the way that he (and us) thought.

Maybe the Collar was meant to protect James from mind-control, and enslavement of the Sun King/Lady. (But my bet goes on Lady, because of the scene when Sarcean was arrested — he said "You called" as if she somehow enchanted him). Maybe if he is 'bonded' by Collar to Sarcean/Will no one else can control him -> hence inability to take it off.

Maybe that's why James felt such a compulsion to put it on, when he is near Will, cause deep down he felt that the Collar would protect him, instead of enslave him

Maybe the whole 'Dark King forced him to lay near his throne' was part of the lie, to convince everyone else that that's what's going on, so in the next life someone is tempted to put it on James, so James can get both his memories and power boost.

Then we have 'I will always find you, try to run'... It's definitely not just a phase, maybe it indicates the message that James sends in that scene, something like "If you run, I'll find you and join you", or, more likely, that later he did find Sarcean, and maybe Sarcean explained something to him, which made James switch sides

Almost forgot. I have a theory that Sarcean / James were childhood friends, and Sarcean was pining for him since forever. Maybe Sun King knew that and did something to make their relationship impossible, maybe 'promoted' James to position where he's not allowed to have 'boyfriends'

#dark rise #dark rise spoilers #sun king #sarcean #james st clair #will kempen #dark heir

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virtualcarrot · 4 months ago

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[KKIR] Not!fic wherein someone has an itch to scratch but the nature of that itch causes misunderstandings

Kakashi hadn't quite realized, before becoming Hokage, the full extent of paperwork involved. Files keep landing on his desk no matter how many he sends away, in a never ending dance that he'd very much like a break from.

Which is why, when Shikamaru walks back with the folder he was supposed to have gone and filed, Kakashi furrows his brows.

"I thought we were done with that."

For someone so unflappable, Shikamaru looks unusually flushed.

"We are," he replies with something tense at the back of his voice.

"Then why's it still here?"

"Ah. It's no bother, I'll file it later."

Shikamaru must be really out of sorts if he thinks Kakashi will buy that excuse, especially from someone commonly known to think everything is, in fact, some form of bothersome.

Kakashi steeples his fingers and leans back in his seat, eyes deceptively mild. He waits.

It doesn't take long.

"The filing room is… occupied," Shikamaru says slowly, shifting his weight.

"I'm sure it's big enough that you can still maneuver around the cabinets."

"No you don't--It's. Iruka-sensei was there, and he sounded… busy."

Kakashi frowns. "Iruka-sensei's a professional. He wouldn't stop you from doing your job."

"That's not--Iruka-sensei was busy. With someone else."

Kakashi blinks. "So wha--oh. Oh." He clears his throat. "Are you sure?" he asks, because it's very out of character.

But what does he know, after all. Are they even friends, when Iruka keeps shying from his touch and avoids holding his gaze and flushes in discomfort whenever they're too long together in the same room? Probably not.

"I didn't see anything but the noises were… Yeah." Shikamaru trails off awkwardly.

No point wasting more time on this, then. It's not like Kakashi doesn't have other things to do. He's a busy man.

He stands up and holds out his hand.

"I'll file it."

"To the left, press th--nghhh, fuck," Iruka's voice grunts from inside.

It's breathless and a little pained and ends up on a cut off groan. Kakashi goes still as a statue, feeling himself shrivel on the inside.

"I'm done," a woman's voice asks from the inside. "You good?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Iruka replies, not entirely relaxed.

"You sure? You don't sound like it. I can keep going if you want."

There's movement, the shift of a chair or a table, the heavy rustling of shinobi gear. The voices move about the room.

"Nah. I don't want to impose more."

"It's not like it's a hardship," she says, closer to the door. "I mean, the view isn't bad."

"A-hah," Iruka says wrily.

"No but really, you can't go on like this. Go see a PT."

The handle turns.

"What, so they can suspend me? No wa--Kakashi-san!"

"Hokage-sama!"

The two chuunin screech to a halt, bumping into each other with a badly hidden wince from Iruka. His clothes aren't quite rumpled but his chuunin vest is open, and fine loose hairs fall over his headband.

Kakashi gives them an awkward little wave.

"Hi."

(follows a comedy of double speak, pining, a long-suffering coworker/friend who was just lending a hand and wants nothing to do with the whole drama, and culminates in workaholic Umino Getting-A-Hugeass-Fuma-Shuriken-To-The-Back-Has-Consequences Iruka finally going to a physio over ten years after the fact)

(you'll pry chronic backpain Iruka from my dead, dead hands)

#hatake kakashi #umino iruka #my scrawl #naruto #kakairu #kkir #fic : naruto #not!fic : naruto #kakashi x iruka #iruka umino #kakashi hatake

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itoshi-s · 2 years ago

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i'm sorry i'm sorry i saw your tag about older brother's best friend aiku and i actually SCREAMED because that's such a thought inducing idea . . . he does have that vibe, and he pulls it off so well !! i feel like he fits the trope of someone you've known your whole life but who was always just a bit too old for you to actually spend time with — until you eventually get a bit older too and start getting closer with him and that's when the fun starts yk lmao

i'm- babes i am looking so respectfully this is SO right 🤕

˚୨୧⋆ 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑖𝑎

wc: 1.3k. cw: slightly suggestive, reader is referred to as sister/might be femcoded, this started as a drabble and well.. we're here now, could be dc potential, could just be some pining ꒰ minors/ageless blogs dni ꒱

you've known aiku since what feels like forever, and he's always had this confident, slightly intimidating aura to him, even back when all three of you were just kids. the age gap between you two wasn't anything crazy, at least not by the time you were both grown adults, but the four years seemed to pose more of a problem back when you were still in school. you were always a bit timid around your brothers friends, palms growing clammy when you'd have to come into his room and call them for dinner or fetch something - but they were only ever nice to you anyway. you were just there, your brother's little sister, perhaps a bit too young to fully understand their jokes or why they're so clumsy when stumbling up the stairs at 3 am. but hey, it's not like you felt bad about it, really.

your brother and his friends were good kids, however - oliver included. never got into too much trouble, always so respectful when coming over and talking to your parents. by the time your brother dropped soccer somewhere in the middle of high school, aiku was already considered a national gem and proudly carried the weight of being japan's hope.

finally about to step into the lifestyle you saw your brother and all his friends engage in for the past few years, you weren't surprised at all to only ever see aiku, the nicest one of the group (the most handsome, too) on the tv screen anymore. he's left for some kind of soccer project, then got scouted by the ubers back in italy, and you truly felt so happy for the boy after everything you've seen him go through. the two of you wasn't exactly close, not at all, but he's always been so kind to you, told you sincere words on how you should never give up your dreams no matter how silly they felt; helped you with the stupid physics project that your brother couldn't figure out for the life of him, either (it runs by blood, after all).

you don't keep in touch with any of the guys, but stumble upon some of them on the streets of your hometown ever so often. you exchange smiles, familiarize each other with what you're up to now, then go off with your day as usual.

(you don't know each of them teases your brother on how well you've grown. he tells them to shut the fuck up every time cause, fuck, the thought alone is gross, and he'd rather kill them than allow you to get involved with either of 'em.)

oliver's the one you see the rarest. it's only natural with his field of work, busier than anything any of you could ever put your minds to. it is kind of funny to see his face on gossip sites, though, so if there's ever any disappointment threatening to build up on you, it works just well to ease it.

the first time you properly meet him again after three or four years is when you just happen to be going through the worst shift you've had in ages, and he's the one most annoying client, casually stepping into the store mere minutes away from closing.

"aiku-kun?" you sound surprised when you make out the familiar features, sharp yet warm eyes flickering under the bright lights when he grins.

he sets the ramune bottle down, pushing it in your direction.

"in the flesh", he chuckles, "you doing night shifts now?" the man asks, almost sounding just as taken aback (one thing he remembers about you is that you've never liked to stay up late, and hated being out when it got dark).

you just give a shrug.

oliver learns you're not silent because you're busy ringing him up or still shocked to see him - you sniff and wipe at your eyes haphazardly and only then does he realize that you're feeling down, and probably cried at the back minutes before he came in.

"they're paying me better for these," you mumble, manicured nail tapping on the register. you don't look up when speaking, too embarrassed to let him see you this messed up when he looks so stupidly handsome. italy treated him well- time, too. "is that a-"

you glance up upon the sound of clinking glass. there's another bottle of soda standing next to his, and it just happens to be your favorite flavor, too.

(he remembered, and as sweet as it is, it's not a big deal. then why are you blushing? why are your palms suddenly clammy, like back in the old times?)

"wrap it up, i'll be waiting outside." oliver offers, thick lashes fluttering as he blinks. almost expectantly, but it's not like he wants to pressure you into agreeing. (it'd be nice, though. and you just happen to be as meek as always, and crumble under the intensity of his gaze instantly - as if that's what his true motive was all along.) "unless you're busy?"

you shake your head, wiping your hands on the back of your jeans. "no, not at all."

you join oliver on a quiet drive down the streets of your neighbourhood, eventually reaching the local view spot that you've spent all too many late nights at - both of you. the only difference's that it's all nostalgia to him, and it's still your very present, a weekly way to hang out - perhaps just following what your older siblings did.

and even though it's your very first time sitting in a car so expensive, the defender's presence is oddly comforting. familiar, in a way, and you only ever realize how much you've missed it when he wordlessly encourages you to open yourself up before him. he's always been so effortlessly charming, inviting in a way - and he still is, even though your heart wants to leap out of your chest when his fingers brush along yours as he helps you push the round marble down.

"so," the brunette clears his throat, "he dumped you over a text?" he knocks the bottle neck of his drink with yours, bicolored gaze seemingly burning through you as he watches you nod.

you hum, taking a sip of the bubbly beverage and looking out the city's panorama. oliver rolls his eyes, rubbing at the nape of his neck and leaning back in his seat.

"that's a real dick move, you know?" he states matter-of-factly, to which you snort, "guys like that don't deserve your tears, kid."

"says who," you quip. from your peripheral, you notice him turn his head back to you. "i've seen the articles, loverboy. m'not sure if you're the best advisor." you tease, cheek resting on top of your bare shoulder as you grin at him.

the man bites back a laugh, canines on show when he smiles to himself and frankly, the sight's making your tummy flutter with an unknown, fairly new feeling, no matter how much you try to ward the butterflies off.

you don't know it yet, and aiku's quite sure of it, actually - there's the exact same sensation bubbling somewhere in his chest, too, when he shamelessly, ravenously takes in the soft glow of your skin, decolletage on show thanks to the tiny spaghetti strap top you're wearing. your eyes are as wide as ever, despite all the burdens and daily struggles simmering behind your affection and interest-blown pupils, and there's this almost dreamy, captivating smile, one that beautifully compliments your now more womanly-like, refined features.

perhaps it's better you don't ever become familiar with the thoughts that start to simmer in his head - you, moaning into his mouth as he steals kisses from those taunting, plush lips of yours, that he's sure currently taste of the artificial sweet pineapple you're sipping on; you, down on your knees in front of him, giving him the same soft, gullible look, on the verge of pleading for all the attention he forwent in the past.

and fuck, he's aware of it - annoyingly so - but oliver has agreed to let go of a few too many things in life already.

you're not about to be one of them, too.

#✧.* zaria writes #oliver aiku x reader #blue lock x reader #aiku oliver x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #blue lock imagines #i got way too into it omg iM SORRY #i promise it was supposed to b just a little silly drabble.. i got carried away:3 he's just so !!!!! UGH #couldn't be helped i guess

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lowkeyrobin · 8 months ago

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Trevor Spengler x reader where reader has a job being a singer in an oldies style restaurant? Where they sing and play guitar on the stage while the customers eat?

And they make mashups of more modern songs (mainly rock and pop) in their spare time? Like a music prodigy of sorts

Or Generally cover-artist reader x Trevor Spengler?

this is me in every desired reality/self insert fixation I have LMAOOO I got you ; thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy !! ; post writing robin here, sorry this is so short I had no idea what I was doing

TREVOR SPENGLER ; cover artist

summary ; Trevor develops a crush on the kid who covers songs in the local diner

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; gotta admit I was listening to bailey zimmerman so I apologize if this is has a very country-angst vibe. I see the color orange and go back to Leave The Light On idfk I apologize. i had to restrict myself. I'm not too caught up in popular modern music so bare with me 🙏 ; okay post me here, only the first part is but this whole thing kinda sucks so I'm sorry

word count ; 808

masterlist

You sit at your wooden barstool, strumming the strings of your guitar as you try and retune it.

Working in an oldies style restaurant wasn't the most fun nor best paying job, but you needed the money, and you needed something to do with your talent and time. You had enough hardships to overcome in life and enough passion to sing up on a stage how you did, even for patrons at a cheap restaurant. You found fun and therapy in your music, so it didn't make it that bad to sit on that barstool all evening after school.

You strum the strings again, finding the right sound for your instrument as you clear your throat. You typically ignore when people watch or look at you, imagining you were the only one in the room. This time though, as you begin plucking at the strings, you can feel someone looking at you.

You could always feel that feeling, but this time around, it was different.

You ignore it, continuing on with your six hour long show, trying to please the audience that wasn't even paying attention to you. The place was shaped like a bar, with you stuck in the corner on a little stage, just doing your thing. Tonight was more of a calm, well-deserved night for something relaxing. There were only a few booths taken up. There was no need to put up a big show for the two dozen people in the building.

Across the room, a curly haired boy was staring you down, receiving a glare from his little sister. She was no good at social cues or social interaction, but she knew damn well that her brother was being weird. He snaps out of it, shyly looking away from you.

"...bittersweet October, and I'm headed for the Northern pines. Well, this autumn fall feels empty, black and white leaves touch the ground. You're the only color I've got left, and it's slowly fading out"

The boy looks back up at you again, his fingers tapping off the wooden table to the rythym. He can't help but watch your every move, every strum beneath your fingers, every movement your lips and the front of your throat made to create the beautiful sound of the lyrics with your voice. He was encapsulated.

He rests his chin on his hand, perched on the table at an angle. A soft smile rests on his face, eyes heavy like he was ready to fall asleep.

"Trevor, stop staring at them!"

A few weeks later, the same boy sat down at the same booth as before, this time not occumpanied by his family. He ordered some food so as not to look like a creep, but he was more focused on listening to you than enjoying said food.

He'd been here since to see you, always sitting in the same booth. Maybe he saw it as a free concert.

You didn't mind. Maybe he was trying to recognize your face from somewhere, or was developing a hallway, or diner, crush on you, who knew.

As you pause to catch your breath after playing Back To December by Taylor Swift, you see the boy stand up. He's making his way toward you.

At least you had time to chat, as it wasn't rush hour, merely 2pm on a random Saturday.

He awkwardly stands in front of you as you gulp down the liquid in your water bottle and set it back down on the floor. You turn to him with a welcoming smile, assuming he was here to ask a question or give a compliment.

"Uh, hi." He begins, a nervous smile painting his face. "I just, I've been seeing you play here for a while, and like, I think you're super cool"

You smile, resting your arms over your guitar. "Thank you, I appreciate that"

"Uhm," He runs a hand through his curls, clearly nervous yet trying to hide it somehow. "Could I maybe give you my number? If you wanted to hang out sometime? I can play guitar as well"

You lightly chuckle, "Yeah, sure. You got something to write on?" You ask him, seeing him looking around for a pen and paper.

He quickly scrambles towards one of the waitresses, kindly asking if he can use one of the bill papers and pen really quickly. He returns to you, handing you the folded up paper.

"Thank you." You both speak in unison. Both of your faces flush in embarrassment and the flustering of the situation.

"Uhm, I'll see you around?" You speak, strumming the strings of your guitar to make sure it was still tuned out of habit.

He nods, "Yeah, I'll see you around. Oh, my name's Trevor, by the way"

"Y/n" You reply, waving as he walks away, silently cheering himself on.

"Bye, Y/n!"

#lowkeyrobin #ghostbusters frozen empire #ghostbusters afterlife #ghostbusters x reader #trevor spengler x reader #trevor spengler #finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard #gender neutral reader #gn reader #they/them reader #gn!reader

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anniiecrsta · 20 days ago

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♬ billy dunne hcs 𖾞 ⁺ 𓈒 ❝ tell me something good, tell me that you love me . ❞

:: billy likes his coffee with cream in it. like a lot of it, to the point where the top is completely white: he keeps a whole packet of those disgusting pre-made coffee creams in his cabinet like its a secret stash of gold. in theory it’s a cappuccino, but if anybody actually calls it that he will actually start freaking out and taking it as a very personal offense. :: he HATES having to use the tv controls, like the buttons straight on the machine instead of just using the remote and he’d just rather not watch the tv if he has to get up every five seconds just to change the channel— on that note, he’s a channel hopper. he can never finish a program in full unless it’s a documentary. :: even if he's not really a movie person, like i said literally only watching documentaries, his favorite movie is a star is born. he always end up crying but only cries in the scenes where he doesn't have to: they could be singing the sweetest song and he's already be sobbing just thinking about the ending. if he's in public, he doesn't even stare at the movie-- it embarasses him. :: billy doesn't wear deodorant. ever, and he never has: the last time he even touched a bar of deodorant was when he was 12 at his gym class in middle school, but as soon as that whole experience was over he never touched it again. he always smells like sweat, garage, cigarettes and pine leaves from his car perfume. of course he uses car perfume in his bus-- if it isn't as clean as can be, it makes him terribly stressed. or at least he'd like it to be clean: he never remebers too and leaves everything on the floor, so he just ends up wound up all day. :: his favorite brand of beer was the buckle dark ale (strong dark ale) when he wasn't sober. he always loved it because in just about 2 glasses of it he was always out like a light and thats a really useful quality if you're someone who's trying to drink the life out of his own body-- not that he actively wanted to die, but at the same time the thought of maybe dying alone on a wooden counter of some bar in the sunset strip, with nothing but a guitar to his name, didn't sound all that bad. ❝ in my mind, when she's not right beside me i go crazy . ❞ :: his favorite season was always autumn: he could still go out and about and do his usual runs, maybe even stopping by the beach with how hot LA is all year round, but at the same time it got dark quick and days lasted less and less everyday. it gave him a bit less time to have to spend with the pain that he felt all day long in his guts. at the same time, billy didn't like days being shorter because it meant even less time to spend with his baby, julia, which seemed to grow quicker everytime he saw her. it scared him. :: loneliness scares him. the thought of being out of control in his own life and being left behind, in not leaving any impact on this world, is what most people think scares him the most, based on how he acts. and he likes it exactly that way: the thought of anybody knowing that his biggest fear is becoming just like the man who ripped his own self worth from him-- his father-- terrifies him, consider he still lives waiting every day for his approval. he lives with the wish to prove that if he had stuck around he could've had a son to be proud of, even if that means lying through his teeth to show everyone that he is exactly who he's supposed to be. and who he's supposed to be, maybe, isn't always the better person. :: when he's alone in his bed, at night, sometimes he likes to close his eyes and think about what his life would be like if he took a completely different choice, even if the choice happened so many years ago that he doesn't even remeber the context in which he took it-- the butterfly effect brings him a sense of comfort, but at the same time he feels that constant, overwhelming dread of knowing everything he does will affect his life when he least expects it.

#annie IS billy dunne #im litch him tho #NOBODU GETS YOU LIKE I DO BILLU BOY #djats rambles !!!!#ty everyone who reviewed these #im SO PROUD #i made the graphics myself

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honeyedmiller · 2 years ago

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Hi! I’m not sure if you’re taking requests currently but I was wondering if you do if I could get a fluffy imagine with Frankie or Pedro where the reader is in her early 20’s and Pedro is his current age and just how navigating life dating each other would go (like an average day off for the two and the adventures and mischief they would get up to 🤭🥰) thank you!!

As someone who's in their early, almost mid-twenties, this is feeding into my delusions soooo bad LMAO but this is super cute. Thanks for the request!<3

warnings: (very much legal) age gap, fluff, a teensy bit of angst

You met him coincidentally at a PR event your school was holding, and he was one of the guest speakers. You were in your senior year of college, aiming for your Bachelor's degree in Communications with a concentration in PR. The industry always fascinated you, and you were fortunate enough to be chosen to be the one to ask him questions about his agency and the point of view from the celebrity's side. After the interview, you stayed back to help clean up the remnants of the event, and that's when he came up to you and shyly asked if you'd like to join him for a cup of coffee within the next coming weeks.

Since then, every day was a new adventure for you two. Sometimes they started off the same, as you happily made a Starbucks run that was close to Pedro's cozy home in Los Angeles. Sometimes, they started with the bed already empty, as he'd gone off to do an interview or press release of some sort.

And then there were days like this one, where you woke up to his lips softly pressing themselves all over your face. You look up at your lover, a smile never failing to spread across your lips.

"Good morning, honey." He coos at you as you stretch, a few bones popping in the process.

"Good morning, handsome." Your sleepy state makes Pedro melt as you reach up to brush the slightly graying hair away from his forehead.

You'll be completely honest—dating a man that was twenty-something years older than you has been a challenge. Not particularly with Pedro, because he wasn't the challenge at all. He treated you like a princess and made sure you were comfortable in all aspects of your relationship with him.

It wasn't that, no—it was the incredibly harsh comments you've gotten from the whole world, and how many weren't kind to you— more specifically when you two finally came out of the dark to say you've been together for over a year.

It subsided over time, but you'll still get nasty glances when you two are out in public just minding your own business. It's like the world forgets that you two are consenting adults.

If it weren't for the age thing, people would constantly accuse you of being a gold digger, only pining after Pedro for his money and his most recent successes. That just wasn't the case at all, and he knew that. He'd tell you to ignore the comments because only you two truly knew what went on in your relationship.

You tried so hard to ignore it, and it would work for a little while, until your overthinking mind would come collapsing onto you full force and you'd have a breakdown about it. You would go through the breakdown alone most of the time, mainly because you didn't want to burden Pedro or make him feel bad that the world could just be so cruel sometimes.

As time went on though, you became better at ignoring it. People finally got used to the idea of their beloved internet boyfriend actually being in a real-life relationship.

"Since I have the whole day off today, I was thinking we could go get some brunch and take a drive down PCH. The weather is really nice today." Pedro smiles down at you as he cups your cheek, his eyes scanning yours as he awaits your answer.

Getting out of the house would be really nice, especially since California had been experiencing some nasty storm weather in the recent months.

"I'd like that, mi amor." You grin as you peck his lips before lazily rolling out of bed, getting ready for the day alongside Pedro.

Pedro almost always insisted he drove whenever you two were together. Something about being his 'passenger princess', as he called it, satisfied a part of his need to take care of you. He knew you were more than capable, but as long as you were with him, it was nothing but love. His hand rested comfortably on your thigh as the warm breeze whipped through your hair as he drove down the busy streets of LA.

He pulled up to a regular brunch spot for you two on Melrose Avenue. Paparazzi was luckily nowhere to be found, at least to the naked eye, and you were grateful. It was overwhelming sometimes with how they loved to shove cameras in both of your faces. The lack of personal space was prominent every time they were around.

He held the door open for you and you gladly thanked him, immediately getting sat by the host. It was a weekday, so it wasn't busy at all. You noticed the few people that were in the cafe staring, though, but you kept your gaze either on Pedro or the decor of the quaint building.

"So, we have the whole day together. What would you like to do after the drive?" He reaches across the table to grad your hand, his thumb softly grazing the back of yours.

"I can think of a few things." Your grin is mischievous as you wiggle your eyebrows, causing him to laugh.

"Well there's definitely always that, too." His smile meets his eyes, giving your hand a light squeeze.

Your food arrived shortly and you graciously thanked your server as you began to eat the delicious French toast with blueberries and strawberries on top. You two sometimes ate in a comfortable silence, especially if the food was delicious. Just being in the presence of each other was enough to keep you both satisfied.

When the server brought the bill and left it on the table, you snatched it before Pedro could even reach for it and set your card down. He started to protest, but you shook your head.

"You already take care of me in many ways, mi amor. I need to treat you to stuff, too." You grab his hand on the table and raise his knuckles to your lips, kissing them.

"Fine." He sighs as the server comes back to collect your payment.

"I can see the headlines now—Y/n pays for brunch at cozy spot in LA. Is she really not a gold digger?" You mimic an intense news reporter tone, hands stretching in the air to quote the article title. Pedro laughs boisterously, shaking his head as his hand covers yours.

"What fools they are, everyone knows you're just with me for my money and devilishly good looks." He rolls his eyes and scoffs, the sarcasm dripping from his tone. You two giggled like schoolchildren at your petty jokes.

It was one of your favorite things to do with each other: make fun of ridiculous accusations from the press and turn it into your own little jokes, just between you two.

The server comes back with your card and you smile up at them, leaving a generous tip before signing the receipt and getting up from your chairs.

"Your chariot awaits, m'lady." Pedro sing-songs from behind you, the smile he's kept on your face for the past few minutes never receding.

"Why thank you, my noble knight." You lean up to kiss his cheek before he ushers you out of the cafe. His hand rests on your lower back before you reach his car, and he opens the passenger door for you.

"Thank you my honey." You saw paparazzi start to show up on the street, and he glances at them before looking down at you.

"Let's give them something to talk about, hm?" He quirks his eyebrow up before using the hand that rested comfortably on your lower back to pull you flush against his body, before dipping his head down to kiss you passionately.

You couldn't help but smile into the kiss before reaching up and locking both of your hands behind the nape of his neck. You were the first one to reluctantly pull away, your lungs burning and begging for air.

He ushers you into the car with a quiet 'watch your head' as you sink into the passenger seat of his car. He comes around and settles into his own seat, driving off to the highway with a beautiful view of the ocean.

You don't exactly know how you ended up here—hell, if you were to tell yourself this would be your life now, you wouldn't have believed yourself. Dating Pedro was as easy as breathing, despite the negatives along the way.

But, the positives always outweighed the negatives, and you were so fortunate to call this loving, goofy, humble man yours.

#pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x y/n

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sihakadan · 2 years ago

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Arcane cast pining. That is all.

Fuck me, I'm going to die. It is either angsty or so deep it's gross with me. So much fluff lol. These are not established relationships with the reader, just if they were wanting it bad.

SFW, just some language

Have a request, looking for something, or have questions? Check out my master list

•🐀Silco

-Favoritism is a problem if he likes you. Jinx gets away with literal terrorism, just think of the war crimes you could commit and he'd just say it was your favorite holiday tradition.

-He gives you very subtle hints because he isn't sure if you feel the same way and doesn't want to make you uncomfortable

-You do, however, receive lots of flowers from a mysterious 'admirer'. They always seem to be delivered when you are in his office, working. "Ah, more flowers? This 'admirer' must be very smitten with you."

-You know he really likes you when he asks Jinx to not terrorize you or be rude towards you

•💣Jinx

-She makes you personal little drawings and your own little mascot, like her monkey

-Is a little touchier with you. If you are uncomfortable with that, she will request air hugs/ high fives often

-Names one of her grenades after you. Always draws a heart on it and it emits your favorite color smoke when it blows up

-Lets you hang out in her lair with her and touch her things. This is where she is the most vulnerable and only Silco and you are allowed in.

•⌛Ekko

-Is a bit oblivious at first that he may have feelings towards you

-Watches you a lot. Not in a creepy way, he is just fascinated by how you move, talk, act.

-Even if it pisses you off, he does not like to take you on missions or give you dangerous task. You know how to take care of yourself, but he has lost so many and if he lost you-

-Shows you his workspace and makes little gifts for you to keep on your windowsill.

•🦇Scar (bat guy from the Firelights)

-Since he doesn't really talk, actions and body language is how he communicates

-He is like Ekko and observes. If you catch him looking, he gives you a sweet smile and nod

-You get to hold and play with the baby more than anyone else in the Firelight base. It wrecks him because it is so cute watching you two together

-Brings you little gifts like pretty little rocks and shells, a book, things that interest him to share with you

•💪Vander

-He is pretty upfront about it, but he backs off a bit if you get embarrassed by the attention

-You never pay for your drinks, no matter how many times you try. He once gifted you back all the money you had given him for the drinks. Thought he was really clever about it.

-His eyes brighten around you, and he never stops smiling at you when you talk. Just hearing your voice makes him happy.

•🔥Finn

-You get spoiled. What kitten wants, kitten gets

-You get your own security detail, the best clothes, invited as his plus one to all the parties.

-He isn't ashamed to let you know his feelings, but how deep they are he will never share because he is too afraid someone will use you against him. He'd raze the undercity if you were ever hurt.

-Will actually share silent moments with you because they can be comfortable, but he is giving you the 'fuck me' eyes the whole time

•⚒️Jayce

-He tries to impress you a lot. It can be overwhelming, but he is just nervous that maybe you won't feel the same

-Flowers, candy, jewelry all the time. Will tell you they're from him but he won't tell you why he gave them to you. "I just think you deserve something for your hard work." (Viktor will literally bang his head on the desk because how can his friend be such an idiot?)

-Tells you about his dreams and hopes. It makes his heart swell when he sees how your eyes sparkle when he talks about making things better

-Viktor will throw a book at Jayce if he doesn't admit his feelings for you because, damn it, it is interfering with their work! (He also thinks you two were made for one another)

•📖Viktor

-Smooth with flirting, but if you flirt back, he won't know what to do. He isn't used to someone returning the interest.

-Asks you to get coffee with him daily on his breaks or the one he will take because Jayce demanded he move from his spot in the lab. Walks with you around campus if the weather permits. If not, you both sit in the lounge and talk about little things.

-Gives you lots of books and leaves notes in them for you, like which part was his favorite or what he thinks you would be interested in

-If he has to go to events, you are going with. You two stand back and laugh together about how everyone looks like they're walking with a stick up their ass.

•🖌️Mel

-Invites you to lots of places, to spend as much time as she can with you even while it is for work purposes

-Gets your favorite treats delivered to you.

-Straightens your clothes or hair while talking to you. It is a habit, and it is how she shows affection, but it can be taken as 'you look dreadful, let me fix you'. She means well by it.

-Shows you all her paintings and even teaches you a bit. Even if you are terrible at it, it is not the point, and she is happy to share a passion of hers with you.

•🚬Sevika

-You get silent conversations with her a lot. All she has to do is look at you and you know what it means. Not a word needs to be said.

-She is soft with you, but in a very romantic way. Brushing your cheek with her fingers, glaring at people who are getting too close, telling you that she will protect you

-She can't get you flowers but pays your tab at the bar. To her it is the same thing

-Teaches you cards so you both can gang up on the others and wipe them out of their money

#arcane netflix #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane league of lesbians #arcane silco #arcane jinx #arcane ekko #arcane scar #arcane vander #arcane finn #arcane jayce #arcane viktor #arcane mel #arcane sevika #mel medarda #jayce talis #arcane headcanon #arcane firelights #arcane x reader

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beanghostprincess · 1 year ago

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gonna throw my sanuso idea out here for u cuz i dunno what else to do with it. im no writer but its kinda like a fic idea about sanji subconciously reaching out for/touching usopp, using the excuse that hes just so enchanted by beautiful women he cant contain himself.

it kinda begins early on, shortly after they enter the grand line. whenever sanji is swooning over nami or whatever lady, he kinda flails and bumps shoulders with usopp, sorta leans into him while hes overwhelmed with his lovesickness. and overtime it evolves into him reaching out and putting his arm around usopp and pulling him in close while he dreamily sighs about how radiant robin and nami look.

eventually down the line, he uses his swooning as an opportunity to grab usopps hand and twirl him around in a little dance. he doesnt even really realize it, but it becomes less and less about the women and more about being able to take hold of usopp and be near him and dance with him.

meanwhile the whole time usopp cant decide if hes more annoyed or flustered or jealous or what to even make of it, but in the end hes glad to be able to be close to sanji too.

AWWW!! This idea is adorable because you can do so many things with it!! Sanji doing this unconsciously at first, always going for Usopp to dance with him or take his hand etc etc when he's daydreaming about one of the girls. And Usopp doesn't mind that much because he knows how Sanji is, so he just rolls his eyes and lets him do whatever. Sometimes he'd make a comment about it or hit him to wake him up, but usually, he just deals with him.

But, of course, we know that even in canon Usopp likes to tease and jokingly flirt with Sanji. So he starts to just... Flirt back and enjoy his shenanigans more and more because Sanji always goes to him when he does these things. And at some point, Sanji just enjoys being next to Usopp so he ends up doing it just because. He says it's for the joke and it's just having a fun time with his best friend, but it's more than that.

The thing is, I think they would end up flirting more and more without girls in the picture. Sanji brings snacks to Nami and Robin and Usopp says something like "Oh, no! What about your dearest sniper?" and Usopp does not expect Sanji to joke back and say "Of course, pretty boy, how could I forget about you? Silly me" and he actually already has a snack prepared for him. They will laugh at Zoro or Law pining over Luffy by holding each other close and imitating their voices dramatically and pretending to almost kiss and they- They genuinely have fun doing it. They're just silly like that. They end up getting closer and closer and Usopp makes jokes about Sanji not paying enough attention to him when everyone can see Sanji has been even ignoring the girls around just to flirt with Usopp.

The sniper doesn't realize, but Sanji is actually down bad and the fact that they're close enough now to even kiss or hold hands jokingly with no strings attached makes him so happy. He wants more, of course, but damn he'll take what he can get, honestly.

Thinking about Sanji actually falling in love with Usopp and being all worried about it in the end, to the point where he has this crisis about confessing. Usopp thinks (because he's oblivious and dumb) that it's because of Nami. So of course, he goes to Sanji and tells him to practice his confession with him. Because Usopp doesn't think he has any chance of being with Sanji. He has already accepted it. And this way at least he can help the one he loves.

Finally, Sanji makes this beautiful confession to Usopp, saying everything he feels out loud for once, and about to kiss him, and Usopp is like "Huh, I- I think you should keep the kiss for Nami, right? You wouldn't want to waste this on someone like me" and Sanji is literally so in love with him it hurts, so he says "It would be a waste to use it on somebody that isn't you" and they kiss. And they're happy. And I love them so much-

Now they become even more annoying because their way of flirting jokingly turns into actually flirting and being clingy and the crew is soooo done with them.

#they're the cutest most adorable thing #one piece #black leg sanji #usopp #sanuso

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senka-mesecine · 2 months ago

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Asking for your opinion on how you think the reader would get together with the platoon cast members/get into a relationship with them? Like how would the confession/realization stage work between them hypothetically, do they have some sort of dramatic sunset kiss scene where they confess their love or do they just mutually decide “yeah, you’re stuck with me now”

― Chris Taylor strikes me as the king of pining. The admire from afar type. The 'I'd rather write about you and vax poetic than actually talk to you' guy. The bottle up my feelings inside type. Something significant, groundbreaking and almost triggering would need to happen to him for him to actually muster up the courage to figuratively bite the bullet and initiate and act upon all the emotions he had internally all along because you probably lived in this guy's letters and say, journal more than he's ever actually did anything in regards of his bubbling affections; and when this landmark event happens --- this something that pushes him into action, he is capable of going from a passive admirer or a quaint friend to entirely hands on overinvolved, dramatic sunset or no sunset, meaning that he probably realized he loved you all along, he just didn't do anything about it because he might've been slightly cynical about relationships as a whole, seeing it as the type of thing his parents would've tried to push him into numerous times before and to actually care for someone now on his own accord almost feels like a betrayal of principles, making the confession only just seem sudden when it isn't actually --- was boiling in him below the surface. Something just shook up Taylor from his slumber and he did what he should've done all along.

― For O'Neill? Man, the realization stage happens immediately. What realization stage? There's none of that. He sees you and his jaw drops. Zap. Love at first sight. Brain fried, no thoughts. The cigarette probably plops out of his mouth too. He's immediately in stuttering flirtation mode, pestering you, annoying you, negging you one moment and then simping the other and he makes no effort to conceal the fact that he's hot for you because why would anyone even conceal that? And even if he could, he's too nervy to actually pull off such a feat of discipline; he'd just twitch to irk and vex you one way or another like it's an itch he just has to scratch. Whatever the case, Red's on your ass like a red ant since day one and it's pointless to actually confess anything because due to how vocally irritating he gets in regards of you; everyone and their grandma just about concluded entirely on their own that this guy's down bad seeing as how if there was a list of top ten ramblings he most frequently indulges in you rank very high up there, meaning that he's invested and in this whole thing much sooner than you probably are. He already acts like he's in a relationship. Better yet; like a spouse that's been married twenty years to you and you're yet to wisen up to the fact you're part of the O'Neill clan.

― Bunny's like...Bunny. Sees the object and subject of his affections, decides he likes and wants the object and subject of his affections, does an act of service that would otherwise be considered harrowing by any normal standards five minutes after meeting them. Hey, here's a tattoo in the shape of a heart I pierced with a needle raw just now, never mind the fact it's freshly bleeding. Y'like it? That's...literally introductions. He is very well capable of doing that before you even know his name or are properly introduced to him seeing as how he operates on pure shock factor and in fact, shocking you is the goal. It's funny to him in a way only he understands. He skips the courtship. Skips the confessions. Skips all the commonplace landmarks of love. Jumps right into the fray. You my girl. So, we doin' this or not? It's literally that easy for him. He declares and decides on a thing and outcome and he'll pursue it until he gets it, plan being to pretty much pester you into a relationship and he doesn't care either ways if he never gets a clear closure or answer on your thoughts about this; in his mind, you're like, a thing. So good luck ever actually shaking him off seeing as how he very acutely embodies the whole 'you're stuck with me now' description of events. You knew him for a scandalously short amount of time and he's already latched on like a leech, refusing to un-latch.

― Wolfe, uh...hovers. You know, he just hovers? He's vaguely nice and he's around. Perpetually. Somewhere in the background. Somewhere nearby. Somewhere at hand. Doesn't get involved but he is involved, if you catch my meaning. Even when you overlook him and he fails at a great many things, he's...kinda always there. Peripheral. At arm's length. That's the definition of him in love and how he effectively 'initiates' a relationship. If he sticks around long enough it'll eventually happen because if he's always there one of these days he'll simultaneously be there at the right moment, at the right minute, second and hour and things will align and click just right and you'll somehow go from being barely an acquittance to being engaged to being married in the span of barely an eye's blink; so fast, in fact, it might even shock you as it happens to you. It's all about timing with him. His confession is deeply tied to timing too. Wolfe's the type to not necessarily personally take part in a brawl but he'll sure as hell tactically show up to 'break it up' once it's already over. He hovers, hovers and hovers you into a relationship and he's either operating on unassuming cunning or he's slightly sleazy. Maybe both. Hard to tell. But, you get won over and you're not even sure how or when it happened. The early bird catches the worm.

― Yeah, alright, for dramatic scenes? Rhah's your guy because he'll have a whole elaborate tirade speech after stewing in his feelings for god knows how long and when he does have his speech you'll almost feel you're being accused of something extremely dire seeing as how intense and impassioned he comes off as in his monologuing; but that's just the byproduct of all his feelings coming out big and theatrical as he holds nothing back, dumping it all on you at once. He'll just about openly tell you he loves you to your face, looking you in the eyes, invading your personal space but making his confession sound like they're fighting words. He could tussle with you just about now as well as make out with you. He's as passionate as he is deeply cynical. He might think of you as a Jezebel that's out to trick him in some shape, way or form and that what he feels is bad news and he knows this because he had plenty of time to germinate on the idea and realize the fact that he's in deep; that you could technically have him at your mercy because his damn heart's gone and been compromised bigtime. He treats all of this almost like it's an infection and that you're the one who's made him sick, but it's not as bleak as it seems because Vermucci's soliloquy is also simultaneously a confession he wants this, albeit in a very eccentric fashion. Might as well lose his soul to something good. He just as easily jumps from apparent hate to love within a second.

― King is loveably uncomplicated and never made a secret out of any of this --- any of his feelings --- in fact, his friendliness and open nature might've made it apparently clear, in a gradually moving sense, that he was your friend, that he liked you and then finally, that he cared; like, the development was all there over a period of time and obvious from the get go and even the most gullible person wouldn't be able to miss it, making King the opposite of someone like, say, Chris Taylor who's all about the secret, introspective longings. The angst. See, King's not like that all and he might think the whole pining thing --- it's rich people stuff, because only rich people have the luxury of wasting time like that instead of taking action and investing in a good something coming out of what was initially nothing. With him, entering a relationship is just the next logical step after a barrage of him being joined at the hip with you because he's consistently been nice to you and you consistently had reason to reciprocate, the same way he's consistently flirted with you, amped up the charm, giving you plenty well-threaded terrain to do the same, making the decision less of a mutual agreement with strictly drawn out lines and regulations but more something that just falls into place naturally because it feels natural, baby. King just gets under the skin like that to the point being together is a given.

― Elias could be the only one out of the bunch to actually have a dramatic sunset in his confession of love; as in, taking you to some quiet, secluded, beautiful place to have a face to face conversation on the matter and talk to you directly about the way he feels. And he does. He explains all of it to you in a very upfront, transparent, sincere way and for all intents and purposes his could be considered the most traditionally acceptable (and healthy) way to approach love and initiating things seeing as how he'll actually sit down and have an immersive talk to you about it that could very well last the whole night as you both pour your respective perspectives along with your hearts out. It's one of those once in a lifetime conversations that literally change you. Like, there's no denial what you are to each other after this one-on-one ends. He knows and now you know too. Elias almost treats this whole thing like something you righteously deserve to know and that keeping it from you would somehow be dishonest or unfair towards you, respecting you too much to have you hanging or in the dark, and he leaves much of where this all goes up to you because for all his kindness, he is somewhat jaded and he doesn't want to burden you with something you might not necessarily want and even when you profess that you do want it, he'll still ask and inquire if you're sure.

― Barnes is never going to confess. Not in the classical sense, no. He's executive like that. There probably will never be a time when he outright does so. He's just going to go about his day and do his quiet acts of service in relation to you until it becomes a norm that Barnes is the giver and you're the receiver and that by extension this ritual is so well and frequently observed in an unbroken chain, you're together due to it. Because, you see, people do things for him. Not the other way around. Anything from offering him cigarettes to lighting said cigarettes. Man had the audacity of ordering Taylor to bring him a medic even though he tried to murder him the night before. He calls the shots. Period. So for him to do something for someone else? Real quietly? Making no fuss about it? That's his love language. He effectively confesses every time he patches up your wounds even though he doesn't have to, every time he flicks a leech off of your skin and keeps on moving, every time he kills a snake at your feet, prevents you from walking into booby traps or does anything for you that that could be considered in service of you instead the other way around. He claims you through the stuff he does for you, through the noiseless devotion of it all, the notion he'd kill and die for you if push came to shove, not through words but even if he does say it vocally he's going to say it only once and make it count. His logic is that if anything ever changes, oh, you'll know immediately. Like, when Barnes ceases loving you one can tell.

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