#knowing they couldn't take the easy option
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httpskuzuu · 2 days ago
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L”m so happy your back! I would like a request a yandere! Pm Dazai (18 yrs old) with a darling who’s naïve and innocent (of course he kidnaps them) how would he react to a such pure person! Thank you for taking this request.
Yandere!PM!Dazai with a naive and innocent reader
This is the first time I write for PM!Dazai (and I do headcanons), don't kill me
Yandere!PM!Dazai x Reader
Idk english, I don't like english, let me
summary: the title :D
tw: kidnapping, corruption of innocence, stalking, death (not reader or Dazai), physical and psychological abuse, maybe something else but idk
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Honestly, I don't know how you got into this situation.
I can only think of two options as to how you ended up getting his attention: Dazai was looking for someone like you or you just surprised him.
With the first option, I guess he wanted to get away momentarily from everything he had known in his life, get someone who wasn't as fucked up as he was.
Or you just came unexpectedly into his life, maybe you got involved in one of his missions without having any idea.
Either way, Dazai was dazzled by your innocence.
You are the opposite of him and he wants to keep it that way, he knows what this world is capable of doing to pure souls like yours and he is not going to allow that.
First he won your trust, it was easy, you trusted everyone too fast, you didn't even doubt him in spite of his strange attitude that didn't let you see beyond him.
You never realized the danger in front of your eyes and that only made Dazai adore you more.
He would know every little part of your life, the names of all your friends and the places you go to, he always has an eye on you.
He would keep your friends and family away from you, he's not afraid to kill, threaten or torture others for that purpose.
Deep down, all he wants to do is to corrupt you.
He wants to be the one to destroy your innocence, to show you the cruelty of the world, even if it is contradictory to his initial purpose.
Maybe that's the reason he kidnapped you.
And oh god, that's when the real fun begins.
He doesn't care about your opinion, not in the slightest, and punishments are just around the corner.
Forced affection would be a normal thing, he sees you as a kind of safe place where he can be a bit more vulnerable, just a bit 🤏
Still, I doubt he would ever let you see his true feelings.
That would only be way down the road in your relationship, when Dazai can have complete confidence that you'll never escape.
Yandere!Dazai is not easy, least of all if he's PM Dazai, but your attitude would make it somewhat more tolerable.
Being such a naive little thing, he can trust you more easily.
Plus you're terrified of him, so you don't even think about running away.
But if you were to try… Well, remember what I said about punishments being just around the corner? Then get ready for torture.
Breaking bones, beating you unconscious, isolating you for days, starving and thirsting you, etc.
Although he usually mistreats you as well, it's all more psychological.
He wants to make you see the evil, to see you break and cry.
Makes him have a mix between sadistic joy and regret.
He really feels very guilty for everything he does, for seeing you in such a broken state.
He would never tell you, the closest you get to that would be a strangely silent Dazai cuddling like a koala bear to you.
I hope you have enough mental stamina to endure your stay with Dazai
Oh, and if he sees that he's broken you until there's nothing left of the original you or that all your innocence is gone, maybe he'll kill you because he's bored 😀
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The image of your friend would not leave your head. He was immobile, cold, dead.
It was the first time you saw a corpse in real life, it made your blood run cold. Especially because you saw him die and you couldn't do anything about it.
Dazai killed him, after many hours of torture, one shot in his head and his screams stopped. You saw the blood spill on the floor along with pieces of flesh. You did not vomit because of the absence of food in your stomach, but the nausea was there.
He wouldn't let you take your eyes off him, even when he was torturing him. When his fingernails were being pulled out and his skin was burning. You had to keep watching or the torture would transfer to you.
You couldn't save him. Your throat was torn from screaming, but he was still dead. Would his corpse still be in that dark warehouse? Would that be his grave? At least you would have liked to have been able to give him a proper funeral, not abandon him.
You didn't understand how someone could be as evil as Dazai was. Your friend did nothing, he just worried about your disappearance. Now, because of you, he too would become a missing person.
The tears were still wet when an extra weight was placed on the bed. You refused to move, afraid that he would take you back to continue seeing those horrible things, things you can't even describe without breaking down in tears.
He lies behind you and wraps his arms around you, his hands that caused so many murders gently holding your body.
You never thought before that the perpetrators of these acts could be ordinary people, people you would trust and befriend. But they could be, the proof of that was Dazai, someone too young to be killing.
You are conflicted by the situation, you empathize with Dazai. You want to understand him and know what led him to be the way he is today, try to justify him, but he killed your friend. The dilemma of whether he deserved a forgiveness eats at you inside. Could his actions be justified by his past? Maybe Dazai is just a victim like you.
Be that as it may, apparently you still have time to think because he doesn't plan to let you go anytime soon.
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I am sleep deprived
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half-dead-writer · 3 days ago
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hello I am in fact not dead I've been sick and lacking the motivation to write but hopefully I'll get into the groove again, I got so many requests I'm itching to get done but no strength to do it at all grrrr at first I tried to write a drabble but it just wasn't coming out right so I settled for the short headcanons - as a bonus you can see what I wrote for it below
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Kim Pine with a shy and nervous S/O
character: Kim Pine (Scott Pilgrim Takes Off) words: 261 reader: gender neutral warnings: none
𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔢𝔰 + 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 / 𝔖𝔠𝔬𝔱𝔱 𝔓𝔦𝔩𝔤𝔯𝔦𝔪 𝔗𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔰 𝔒𝔣𝔣 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱
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she thinks your nervousness is cute, to an extent
Kim isn't nervous or shy herself, but she can understand where your worries come from
if you're visibly stressed during a social gathering, she won't make a fuss out of it, instead taking you somewhere where you can cool off
Kim having the patience of a saint plays a big role in your relationship
even if you ask her a lot of times whether you done something wrong (whether it's an issue in your relationship or during an event where you're stressed about something you did during interacting with others) she'll always calmly reassure you and chase away your worries
that doesn't mean she won't be blunt about it, though
she will point out whatever you did right (or wrong) in her usual flat fashion
she doesn't mind re-explaining to you her logical reasons, as much as your anxiety makes you doubt her words
at the end of the day, she loves you, even if your confidence is lacking at times
if your love language isn't as open and not easily perceived, little gestures like holding her hand, staying close, no matter how small it may be - she sees it and appreciates you
the type to come up to the McDonald's counter and ask for extra fries they forgot to pack into your happy meal when you're too shy to ask for them yourself
will argue for/defend you if you need it, but also makes an effort to slowly make you come out of your shell, one step at a time
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Seeing the look of pure passion on the drummer's face was enough to keep you occupied throughout the whole session of the band playing. You didn't wanna be a creep, of course, so you kept your staring at a minimum. You couldn't deny Kim held you tight in her grasp, though. She just seemed so cool. Somehow, her sarcastic remarks did not push you away, even if they poked holes in your already weak confidence.
Since you started working at No-Account Video, you made it your goal to get to know her better. Learning Kim was in a band was your best chance at showing your eagerness, as awkward as it was from your side. Your attempts at being social at work usually fizzled out after a few minutes, right after you used all of your small-talk dialogue options. Interacting with people didn't come easy to you, but you had to learn somehow, right? Thankfully, Kim accepted your request of seeing her playing live. Perhaps she took pity on you, seeing how hard it was for you to even utter the question.
The girl lowered her drumsticks, wiping the gathered sweat on her forehead. She grabbed the leftover soda from the nearby table, taking a sip. Briefly acknowledging your presence, she glanced your way.
"So? Do you think we suck?" Stephen asked, furrowing his brows with anxiety and hope, trying to gauge your reaction before you could even respond. He assumed the worst, per usual.
"I think- I think that was awesome." You hoped your smile, even if a bit shy, conveyed your excitement clearly.
"You don't have to be nice just because you don't wanna hurt Stephen's feelings." Kim commented with her usual flat tone, not bothering to sugarcoat her words. She knew they most likely sucked.
"No, no, I- I really think you're cool. Um, all of you." You clarified quickly, obviously overthinking your simple words.
"That's a relief." Her tone was ambiguous, most likely sarcastic, but somehow you managed to pinpoint a bit of sincerity in her words. Perhaps she did care at least a little bit of the opinion of her co-worker.
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rainyearning · 3 days ago
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Kaidan would snort softly about the remark that his clothes had some price and he couldn't really deny it, it was true, despite it being often just simply shirts in shades of black and gray, the fabrics usually were somewhat expensive, they were well produced with amazing detail. Yes, ripping them would be just so sad. "I can buy some cheaper options so you actually can rip them off of me." Kaidan leaned up on his elbows just a bit so he could watch Siu better, groaning, just a bit with the slightly rougher and more intense treatment. It had him whimper out, more feathers forming in his hair while he was trying to sort his thoughts. Clarifying a sexual need wasn't yet easy for him, especially when his body reacted in its usual, overstimulated and overwhelmed way. Hands and lips that caused shivers of pleasure to run through his body would make his thoughts cut short. How would he want Siu? He fell back into the sheets, one hand back in Sius hair while he just tried to really take in his options and even more, settle for one. "I-" He groaned a little, hips bucking up into the movement of his husbands skilled hand. "Make love to me, please." His eyes closed while he tried to focus on making a decision, but his body was still so touch starved and in situations like this, it showed so very much by how little he actually could focus. "We- we can go all deep, and hard." He blinked back at the handsome man, face slightly flushed by arousal. "You know I will always want you, yes?"
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"You know, I am always very tempted to just rip that off your body and let my lips worship you the way I should, but those price tags on your shirts are a little scary," he teased but it was quite true. Siu learned that Kaidan valued his clothing, so it was his silly way to show he was mindful of it by holding himself back. Not that he needed to do it now all too much, roughed fingers already busy undoing the shirt while his lisp and teeth were eager to leave little marks everywhere. "You will always be mine," he breathed when the fabric was finally pushed back and he was able to roam over the chest, taking the nipple between his hand and sucking at it while his now free hand reached out and started to curl around Kaidan's erection, stroking it roughly and fast. "And because I adore you so much, tell me how you would like it. I can repay your service, I also can just make love to you the way we always do but maybe a little deeper, more marks and noises, or tease you endlessly with my hand." Siu had quite a bit of time to daydream and imagine, he had plenty of ideas but he knew they already finished one round and he didn't want to tire Kaidan out too much ... unless it was exactly what he wanted, he'd more than gladly deliver it.
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tenracoonsinacrisis · 2 years ago
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I finished the his dark materials TV series today, and despite having read the books, the end still broke me. I was watching with my dad, and we were crying so much.
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sweetnans · 4 months ago
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When Katsuki got hit with a quirk, that made him tell what he actually thinks it felt like the world stopped, well for him.
You were trying so hard to maintain your composure when he sprinted into your room with his hand over his mouth.
"What happened?" You asked, and he wrote it down in a paper you had on your desk. "Got hit by a quirk, and I can't stop saying shit," you read and quirked your brow at him "shit like what?"
Real shit
You read and huffed at him while he still couldn't take off his hand of his mouth.
"Just stay like that and don't move. Did they tell you how long it will last?" He denied with his head, and you scratched the back of your neck. "Well, I'll do the talking then. You just have to listen"
He rolled his eyes at you. He didn't mind listening to you talk, but he did mind making the effort to not answer you back to keep the conversation on. For the last years, he realized that it was easy having a friendship with you, and lately, after you two started a friendship with benefits, fuck buddies, he felt in sync with you most of the time.
"How did you end up getting hit with that? Oh no, don't say anything, " you giggled when you looked at his face. He was actually suffering. It was a mixture between suffering and incredulity.
It was easy for you to have him around. You wouldn't deny the fact that your friendship with him had been growing in a way you never expected. Fulfilling some sort of comfort that you never had with anyone.
"Have you seen the others? Kirishima or Kaminari?" You asked while he was practically dead in your bed. You started folding your clothes, waiting for his response, but it never came. "I think you can answer me with yes or no without spilling something juicy"
He quirked a brow at you, holding his upper body on his elbows.
"Oh, don't look at me like that. If you are afraid to talk, there must be something really juicy on your mind that you don't want us to know. " his eyes got plastered in yours, and your eyes widen in sudden realization. "It's not us. You don't want me to know"
He panicked.
He knew you well. He knew that when you have something in mind, there is no human or extraterrestrial force to take it off. You won't drop the topic, uh-uh, you'll push it out of his system, you will bend him until he cracks, and now, with his incapability to talk, he was clearly in disadvantage.
"C'mon Katsuki, I'm your dearest and longest friend, we've been since high school, you know you can tell me anything." You pushed his buttons. The clothes you were folding laid discarded on the opposite side of the room while you approached him slowly like a predator chased its prey.
He needed to keep it cool. He needed to remain strong. The mantra kept playing in his head, and it worked for a while until he saw you kneeling in front of him in a position he knew very well. Fuck you.
"Don't look at me like that," you faked innocence. "I'm just using all the options I have"
You weren't going to do anything.
The look on his face was the main reason you stepped up your game. You threw your hands above his thigh, touching and squeezing the fat of them in a sexy way, very subtly. He flinched at the sudden contact, and you could swear that you saw a drop of sweat forming in the line of his hair.
"You don't need to talk while I blow you, do you?"
He grew impatiently seeing you there, your doe eyes, and your playful smile, meaning nothing but trouble.
You bit your lower lip in between your teeth at the sight of his growing bulge. It was getting out of hand, and you needed to bail before it evolved in something you wouldn't be able to stop.
"I'm just messing with you, relax." You left a tiny squeeze above his knee cap and pretended that it was just a game you were playing and not something that was getting you in the mood.
You weren't a masochist and he was your best friend.
You were preparing yourself to stand again when he, in a sudden and fast movement, grabbed you by the back of your thighs and pulled you toward him.
Your face was mere inches from his face, and your legs were now straddling his figure.
"What are you-"
The blood on your body rose and accumulated in your cheeks. It wasn't a weird position for you, but it was the intense look of his face that got you trembling under his touch.
"You fucking asked for it" he growled lowly. A tiny but strong spark went down on your spine, making you shiver. "Now shut up and listen for once, I don't know whats happening between you and me but lately I've been craving you even more, your skin, your kisses, when you bite my lip and scream my name when I'm inside of you"
His minty breath was fanning above your lips, and his crimson eyes never left yours.
"But that isn't enough anymore"
That sentence snapped your senses again. You regained control of your factions and your brows knitted together at the sudden feeling of losing him.
"What do you mean with that"
The bold you that was eager to get the information from him at any cost shrinked. It was the end of you two. Memories and images passed through your mind like a movie, and when you were about to tear up, he pinched your hip.
You glanced at him through wet lashes. He took a deep breath and smirked. If he was nervous, he never showed.
"I need more. I need you with me in the mornings, I need you with me throughout the day, I need you chopping my ear off every time you get excited with something, I want to watch every shitty reality you want to watch, I want you to scold me everytime I say something mean about our friends and I need to see you here everyday when I come home. I want you to stay and not leave, " he puked the words to you. His pupils were dilated, moving from one side to another, looking for a reaction from you. You were shocked.
He closed his eyes, thinking he screwed it. It was done, and if it was done, he would leave completely empty.
"I just want to cuddle with you after we have sex, I really like feeling you curled up against my body, it make me feel warm on the inside. I like the smell of your hair and your body, I like the way you laugh and the way you do that weird dance every time you win at something. And it drives me crazy having all these feelings for you. It's killing me that you don't realize that I love you"
You stopped breathing. He blurted the last sentences very slowly, giving everything up, including you. The final act of love it was always letting go, wasn't it? It was regret and hurt, but at least it was off of his chest.
He was still looking down when he felt both of your hands grabbing each side of his face. You were smiling through the tears that were rolling down your red cheeks.
"I can't believe that it took you getting hit by a quirk to confess your feelings for me"
Before he could say anything, you crashed your lips with his in a hungry and passionate kiss that melted all the regret and unpleasant feelings away.
For Katsuki, the world started spinning again.
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ladyintree · 2 days ago
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her eyes narrow in on her,   offended that she’s speaking like that isn’t something on tai’s mind.  it always is,   because she hates that mikayla didn’t get the life she deserved—  free of her father but more than that,  too.   not what actually happened to her.   she wants to ask if she was supposed to stay with her out of some obligation—   but she has enough restraint not to go there,  not when it doesn’t feel accurate.   she loved mikayla,   she loved her more than anything even when they did break up,   but it’s because she loved her that she felt like they couldn’t go on like they were.  she always thought that someday,  there would be a chance for them again — when they were both in the right place — but that never happened.  she didn’t realize then that saying goodbye was final for her.  ❝  that was not my response to … that,  ❞   she mutters in frustration,   quickly glancing to their surroundings,  then back to her.   ❝  i wanted to be there for you, ❞   she reminds her, like it’s simple to her.  ❝  i wanted to be the person you could still come to when you needed to talk, but—  but that wasn’t enough for you, ❞   she reminds,  letting out a scoff.   her eyes close when mikayla admits to never reading them;  part of her always expected that,  because surely,  something would’ve caught her attention,  but it still hurts.  taissa was still trying.   ❝  that’s not what i was doing.  what the fuck?  i cared about you,  ❞    she says,  voice slightly louder now,  growing with frustration.  
 it’s starting to feel embarrassing, the way mikayla throws that in her face.  it does feel like it’s spiting her—  but she didn’t necessarily believe mikayla would do that on purpose.  this is just her own insecurities getting the best of her,   a blatant reminder of how much she’s failed,  despite giving up on the love of her life to try to make something of herself.  ❝  excuse me if i don’t want you to do something you hate, ❞    she argues with a scoff.  ❝  i know it’s not about me.   you’ve made it clear you don't think about me at all,  ❞    she points out, rolling her eyes at the thought,  because even the worst company from the wilderness,  those still alive to run into at any moment,  tai still thinks about them,  so she can’t fathom why it's so easy for mikayla to have let go of her— her wife.  she holds her hands up as she shakes her head.   ❝  no.  good for you, mikayla.  ❞   her words come off condescending,  but she doesn't actually mean it that way.  she's is happy for her, despite it all.  ❝  if you're happy—  good for you.  that's all i wanted.  ❞    she just couldn't have the weight of it all on her own shoulders;  it felt consuming,  like it was going to suffocate her trying to be everything mikayla needed in there.  leaving entirely might not have been the best option,  but it felt like the only one back then.     
her jaw clenches, and mikayla doesn’t have to finish her sentence for taissa to know what she’s suggesting.  but even now, as angry as she’s been with taissa, and even given how estranged they feel—   she still thinks she would do anything for her.  taissa knows she’s alive because of what mikayla did for her out there,  not just physically,  but mentally.   she believes the same is true for her, too—  but mikayla keeps suggesting she’s wrong.   ❝  she—  i didn’t give up on you,  ❞  she corrects.   ❝  maybe you just never understood me.  ❞   but taissa doesn’t believe that, either.   she thinks mikayla would’ve understood her better than she understood herself.  her eyes narrow in on her and she shakes her head.   ❝  maybe if you listened to anything i said that day,  or let me finish,  or —  read my fucking letters —  you’d know the truth.   but i guess you like your story better,  where i’m just the bad guy.  ❞
taissa rolls her eyes,  because mikayla doesn’t need to defend herself for that—  she’s already made it clear she doesn’t care about taissa.  ❝  didn’t say you did,  ❞    she mutters,  taking a deep breath and forcing herself to stand taller,  trying to pull herself together again.   ❝  seems like you’ve been sitting on that one for a while, though,  ❞   she says, nodding back to her,  wondering just how long she’s been antsy to call taissa out on it.   her jaw clenches when mikayla goes on,  because that’s not what she thinks.  it’s never been what she thought,  even when so many people did assume the worst of her before things got bad.  taissa always saw more in mikayla.  she’s also never been loved by anyone the way she was loved by mikayla—-   which is exactly why it’s so difficult for her to comprehend mikayla wanting absolutely nothing to do with her now,  because how did she just turn that off?  ❝  i don’t think you're heartless,  mikayla.   you know that,  ❞   she reminds, her eyes narrowing in on her.   ❝  there’s a difference between being heartless and being so willing to give up on people when things didn’t go your way,  ❞    she adds, ignoring the fact that that’s basically exactly what she did to her first.  
after everything has mikayla on the verge of snapping the way she promised asher she wouldn't. her jaw clenches tightly, teeth grinding together as she takes a slow, deep breath, holding back the rant that's going on in her mind— how it was taissa who gave up on them after everything, who decided that what they had meant nothing out here, like it was just something to get them by in the wilderness, something they no longer had any use for anymore. “ i just killed my dad, tai, ” she reminds her calmly, because it feels like tai's forgotten. “ i almost died. and your response was to— to fucking dump me. so yeah, i cut you out of my life. but you're the one who decided you didn't give a fuck first. ” maybe tai never said that specifically, but it felt that way. “ i didn't read them, ” she admits, keeping her voice flat. “ wasn't really in the mood to hear you try to make yourself look better. sorry doesn't really erase what you did. ” it killed her, not knowing what those letters said, throwing them out before the temptation could get to be too much, but she figured it was what was best for herself— and since it was clear that tai didn't care about what was best for mikayla, she had to focus on that instead, even if it meant ignoring the only woman she'd ever loved.
she looks away, annoyed, because she doesn't think she could ever get tai to understand, not when she got to grow up with parents who supported her, while mikayla only had a man who put her down, who used every opportunity to make her feel like nothing. “ i just fucking told you why. it's not my fault it's not what you want to hear. because you'd rather hear me tell you it's to spite you, right? that it's about you, not him? ” she lets out a cold laugh, her head tilting slightly. “ well, i'm fucking sorry, but not everything has to do with you. ” it doesn't feel like tai knows her, because playing out of spite is something mikayla would have always done— especially now, when most of her choices have been stripped away from her, forcing her to turn back to soccer, because it's one of the few things she's ever actually been good at, whether she liked it or not. “ i'm not miserable, ” she lies, but she's trying to believe her own words more than anything. “ it sounds like you're just pissed off that i'm doing fine without you. ” she's not, but she's learned to accept that, telling herself that happiness no longer mattered, that it wasn't even something she wanted anymore, because she can't stand the thought of losing it again.
mikayla doesn't want to have this conversation at all, but her pride won't let her walk away. she can handle the pain, she thinks, because it's all she's ever felt anyway, but that doesn't mean she enjoys it. “ i was in love with the person i was with out there, ” she clarifies. “ you know— the girl i married. the one i would've— ” killed for, died for, done anything for, but she stops herself before she could go there, feeling like she shouldn't have to. “ but you're not her, taissa. and maybe i was just wrong about you, and you never actually were the person i thought you were, but— the girl i loved wouldn't have fucking given up on me just because it was hard. she would have tried. so i don't know who the fuck visited me that day in prison, but— that wasn't her. ” that's what she's told herself the last few years in her determination to move on— because it was easier to separate tai into two different versions: the one she loved, and the one who hurt her, because that made it easier to come to terms with the fact she lost her.
her jaw clenches again, realizing she fucked up, but it's easy to brush it off like it doesn't mean anything, her shoulders lifting in a small shrug. “ nat, obviously. but trust me— i never fucking asked. ” that's not entirely true, either; there's been a few times when mikayla has, telling herself that it's just because they went through something horrible together, so of course she's curious, never stopping to consider the fact that she can't say the same about some of the other survivors. her head falls back in annoyance when tai, again, accuses her of not giving a shit, because it's not true, and she's sick of hearing it. “ okay, yeah, you got me. i didn't give a shit, ” she agrees sarcastically, because arguing against it seems pointless when tai won't listen. “ nice to know you think i'm as heartless as everyone else does. ”
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deadsetobsessions · 10 months ago
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Danny laid across his throne, legs planted across the left arm of the ornate chair and back pressed uncomfortably against the right.
"Listen," Danny started, letting his head flop to the side as he glared at a hovering Observant. "This meeting has wasted enough of my time. You all have been arguing for hours and that's without Clockwork slowing things down."
"Your Majesty, this is a matter of great importance. Belial means to overthrow and rule my-our world!"
"I am distinctly aware aware of that," Ancients, Danny couldn't wait to go home and rid himself of the formal speech he'd had to adopt in order to be taken seriously. Well, as seriously as he cared to be taken when sprawled across his throne instead of sitting on it intimidatingly or something. He slowly placed his gaze on the suddenly still demon sitting across from him. "Yet you've proposed fifteen different plans that were all unviable for whatever reasons you've cooked up. Your conclusion is that I must step in. Does your world not have heroes to take care of it?"
The demon- another lord of hell from this Belial’s universe- fell silent.
“Ah. But if they do, they would also take care of you.”
“No- no, that’s not-”
Danny allowed his voice to drop to the artic freeze he knew his core was capable of. "I opened these these doors to allow all of you to present me with reasonable concerns regarding your own universes and realms. What is not on the table for discussion is your petty politics. Do you think I am unaware of your intentions in tattling to me? That I do not know you are trying to use me to further your own position?"
"Your Majesty, I-" The demon growled out, fear slowly coating its expression.
"It no longer amuses me. You think that I am young and easy to manipulate." Danny froze the demon to its chair. It tried to break free, but Danny isn't the High King of the Infinite Realms for nothing. "Bring to me a miserable problem like this ever again, one that could be easily solved if you used even a smidgen of your intelligence, and you will find exactly how I tore Pariah Dark from his throne."
Not that Danny knew how he did it either, he just did it.
"Yes, Your Majesty. My-my apologies."
The room is dead (Danny patted himself on the back for the pun) silent. Some of the Ancients looked bored, like Clockwork who knew Danny would never hurt them, but everyone else looked close to crying. He held eye contact with the demon until it looked away.
When Danny settled back into the throne and allowed his ice to dissipate, the room let out a collective sigh of relief.
"The next item on the agenda is another demon, by the name of Trigon." Clockwork announced, the large piece of paper comically huge next to his currently toddler-like body.
"Another?"
He flicked an amused look at the previous demon, who kept his trap firmly shut.
"He is attempting to take over multiple worlds in an attempt to conquer the universe. I had thought you would be interested in this one, Your Majesty, as he plans to begin with Earth 135."
Danny stilled. That was his Earth. His haunt.
"Does he know of the Realms?"
"Vaguely, I believe."
"Then he should know the rules. I will wait to see if my Earth's heroes are capable to step to the task."
Danny would be a hypocrite if he doesn’t let the heroes of his Earth try first, even if he is one of those heroes.
"Of course," Clockwork grinned at him, fully aware of the shit Danny's about to stir back home. Ah, the wonders of being able to influence the time stream. Perhaps the young Ghost King will finally get some friends, and maybe get those pesky speedsters to stop making his jobs so hard. Cujo yipped at Danny as the King begrudgingly moved onto the next topic.
——
Raven shuddered as she watched the footage of her "brothers" laughing while steering their human "meatbags" around. She turned back to the giant circle of donated blood and herb filled candles.
“This is a nuclear option, don’t you think?” Green Arrow mumbled, clearly not against it by the half hearted way he’d said it. The Star City billionaire nursed his cracked ribs.
“No,” she floated over to where Zatanna and Constantine kneeled, trying to see if they needed help with the inscriptions. “Trigon is coming soon, and my brothers will no doubt find their way here in a moment. We are out of time.”
“Yeah. Plus, we don’t want Raven to be turned into a portal.” Garfield piped up, switching animal forms rapidly.
“No one dies.” Red Robin muttered. His wrist computer was open, monitoring the surroundings of the open field they found themselves uneasily occupying. Batman grunted in affirmation, eyeing the tree line. Every hero except the magical ones were on look out, preparing themselves for one more battle against the two demons that were trying to take Raven and force her into becoming a portal.
“Hey guys, we might want to hurrythisupbecausethey’re kind of close!” Impulse slammed into the room.
“Done.” Zatanna got up, motioning for everyone to step back. In Superman’s case, he floated back.
“Too bad you won’t get to use it,” a voice drawled, dripping with malice and the screams of a thousand souls.
“Come now, little sister. Why fight fate? Be grateful father has deigned to spare you. If not for your dirty blood being useful, you would be dead, little sister. Give up, before our patience runs out alongside the lives of your little pets.” Another, mocking, voice gleefully rumbled.
Raven would rather gouge out her own heart than to claim these two as any type of family.
“You won’t touch them.” Raven snarled, powers rising even as the marks on her body burned a painful red.
“Buy us some time!”
With that, the group of beaten and battered heroes rose to clash against just two demons, for a chance to save their world.
——
The Circle crackled. Danny felt a tug on his core. He followed the thread of the summoning. Oh. It was his haunt. Earth 135. Hm. It tasted of blood. Desperation? A hint of anticipation. Oh, an overload of fear. Could use some more hope, but Danny understood that it was rather hard to season these kinds of summonings with hope.
“Stop.” Danny commanded, straightening in his chair.
“Sire, we have more-”
“There is an issue with my haunt,” with that, he followed the summons.
——
“Ugh,” was the first thing everybody on the frozen battlefield heard. The demons had smacked away many of the heroes, but they all turned as one when the circle lit up a bright green. “Why do you people always use blood? I’m dead, I don’t need any more iron!”
A boy
Raven’s eldest brother let out a hideous rumble. “You fools tried to summon the king, and you got a dead boy. And now, you’ve doomed another.”
Constantine looked resigned, and regretful. “I am so, so sorry,” he whispered. It was just a kid. John might be a lot of things, but even he found summoning dead kids for demons to devour was just a step too far. “Shite, we got the wrong fucking-”
“Hey, man, that’s rude,” the boy snapped back, waving John off.
“Brother, kill the whelp.”
“I vote on not killing the whelp. Not killing at all, really,” the boy stepped out of the massive blood circle, wrinkling his nose at the drying stains.
“This is not one of your pesky democracies, fool.”
In response, the demons lunged at him, ignoring the screams of the surrounding heroes as they shoved their human arms through the boy’s stomach.
“So,” the boy continues, “I heard your dad was after my haunt?”
“Your haunt, whelp? This earth shall be his! And through him, ours!” Raven slammed against the demons with her power, shadows enlarging and tossing them away from the unharmed… ghost boy?
“Is it?”
——
Wow, these demons are so rude. Normally, it’d be a breath of fresh air compared to the stuffy halls of his throne room. But since they’re attacking his haunt…
“Thanks. You’re… Raven, right?”
Raven nodded, arms outstretched in concentration as she held her brothers back.
“You have to go. We’re- we’re sorry you got pulled into this, but it’s not safe here.”
“Eh. It’s cool. You don’t have to do that anymore, by the way.” Danny stepped forward once more, green skin shifting and gliding as everything about him sharpened. He flew at the demons piloting the human shells, catching them around the necks and dragging the demons out of their stolen bodies. The threw them even further away as he floated in the air, a beacon of green and white. Raven thought it looked like hope.
“My name is Phantom, the High King of the Infinite Realms,” let it be known that Danny always had an eye for dramatic entrances. He shifted into something more off, more eldritch, more kingly. The crown flared to life above his head. “You have invaded my haunt. You have challenged me. What do you plead?”
“You’re not-” they said.
“Wrong answer,” Danny flew at them once more, body contorting into something undeniably terrorizing, his maw unhinging and crunching down on the demons with a sound that made the present heroes cringe.
“Ugh,” Danny grunted, turning back and floating peacefully to the group of heroes- Tucker and Sam would be so stoked he met Wonder Woman and Batman!- and chewed rapidly. He shifted back into his normal form. “Eating demons always leaves me with indigestion. And their bones get everywhere up in my teeth!” Danny pulled out a giant femur looking bone from his mouth, despite it not logically fitting in there.
“Right. No eating demons, solid life advice.” Red Robin said.
“Right? So, you’re Raven! It’s nice to meet you! Think you can summon your dear ol’ dad for me?”
“But we summoned you to stop Trigon, not help him come here.” Superman said, frowning.
“One! That summoning circle is wack. Those things you piled up as offerings? Mid. Also, if you thought you could control me with those terribly written spells, you’re dead wrong. And yes, I am making puns about death.” Danny jabs an aggressive finger towards the shabby circle.
“Have you considered that maybe not every being that can be summoned wants a shit ton of useless blood? Like what if I wanted food? And two, how am I supposed to beat up Trigon if he’s still stuck in the prison realm?”
“I have a cup of coffee,” Nightwing offered. “Kid Flash could probably get you food, right?”
“Yep, surethinganythingyouwantyourMajesty.”
“You wouldn’t catch me alive accepting food from a speedster. You people fuck up the timelines so much,” Danny grumbled, crunching on the last of Raven’s brothers. Raven thought she should probably sit down.
“But you’re dead.” Batman said, something about his voice catching the sharp attention of his protégés who all started making cutting motions at him.
“Fair,” Danny pointed at him, grinning. “I’ll take two pizza and Nightwing’s coffee as payment for taking care of your little demon overlord problem. Raven, summon your dad.”
——
Didn’t much like the characterization of this piece but it’s been in my drafts for a while and I needed it out
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solelifauna · 3 months ago
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Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt.1
When your late mother had a one-night stand with Gotham's richest man, you find yourself at odds and cast aside by your father and his wayward family. Yet, it's only when you find peace that it all comes crumbling down.
TW: Neglect, injury, violence, death
(Y'all, it gets worse in the next post)
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To be adopted by Bruce Wayne was akin to a golden ticket; rare but life-changing. You had been one of those (un)lucky souls who just happened to catch the infamous Bruce Wayne's attention, but not how you’d typically expect. You see, you weren't just some random kid, no, you were the byproduct of a one-night stand between your mother and Brucie Wayne. Of course, you obviously didn't know, and your mother was more than content in keeping who your father was a secret. So for the first 11 years of your life, you lived in ignorance of who your father was. Not that it really bothered you; your mother’s love was more than enough, and as long as you had her you knew you’d be fine. 
Then of course, tragedy struck. Your mother was caught in the crossfire between two rival gangs, a stray bullet lodging itself in the side of her head. You don't know how long you spent crying, cradling her dead body, willing her to come back to life. It wasn’t until police and paramedics had to pull you off your mother, that you realized the gravity of your situation. Without your mother and no father, you’d no doubt be sent into one of Gotham City's many orphanages left to be trafficked and killed. Running away seemed like the best option until a positive paternal DNA match came in for one Bruce Wayne. To say you were dumbstruck is an understatement. Bruce Wayne was your father? The man known for adopting children and loving them as his own was your father? You were both relieved and delighted. You didn't know Bruce Wayne personally, but just seeing the way he treated his other children gave you hope, hope that you could heal with this man and finally know your father.
So when child services dropped you at the manor, a small suitcase in tow and a shy, nervous smile on your face only to be met with poorly hidden annoyance and contempt; to say you were heartbroken would be a disservice to yourself. It was easy to discern that your presence was not welcome and considered a hindrance. Bruce spoke to you disconnectedly, offering a quick apology on the loss of your mother before handing you off to the family butler, Alfred. At least Alfred had the decency to apologize on your father’s behalf, taking his time to talk to you and show you around the manor. You liked Alfred, he seemed kind. It wasn't long until you both ran into one of your other siblings, the eldest brother, Richard or Dick Grayson. He seemed the kindest out of the bunch on tv, so you were hopeful he'd have a different reaction compared to your father. 
Disappointment was your friend once more when Dick gave you a strained smile and conversed with you with fake interest. He left as soon as the opportunity arose. Your other siblings were no different; Jason was rarely ever at the manor and when he was, he certainly didn't bother even acknowledging you (not that you minded, he was scary when he was mad). Tim couldn't care less about your presence, finding annoyance when you’d go up to him and try to converse.
Cass or Cassandra talked to you here and there, never unkind, but you knew you were just an afterthought for her; Stephanie on the other hand initially interacted with you, asking you questions and occasionally sitting and talking to you. It was soon that you realized she was just bored and you were the newest “thing” in the manor. Her interest wore off a week later, her interactions with you now short and dry.
The family as a whole just seemed to disregard you and often stilted their conversation around you. You’d notice the dining room would be filled with laughter and loud talking until you'd walk in; silence would overtake the once lively place as everyone switched to hushed conversations. It’s as if everyone but you knew something you didn't, a big inside secret that bonded everyone together. It wasn’t until you accidentally discovered that Bruce Wayne was Batman and that the rest of your siblings had vigilante alter egos that everything made sense. This had to be why everyone left you out! It was because they had a secret identity to protect and you obviously couldn't know!
You thought that once they knew that you were aware of their nightly activities, things would change for the better, that you’d be included and accepted. If anything, your admission was the worst possible thing you could have done. At least before, some of them had pretended to interact or say something to you. But now that you knew their big secret, they no longer had a reason to maintain their forced fronts and pretend to care (even if it was barely caring). They had bigger, better, more important things to worry about than some random girl who popped up and wasn't even a vigilante. 
But ever the idiot, you still tried. You still craved their love and affection, going out of your way to take gymnastics to impress Dick or take coding classes to try and engage with Tim. You even tried talking to Jason about books, something Alfred had mentioned was dear to Jason. You tried sign language with Cass but she was never around long enough for it to matter. None of your attempts were successful. You didn't even bother trying with Bruce, you knew that the man wanted nothing to do with you. 
The straw that broke the camel's back for you was when your half-brother, Damian Wayne was introduced to the manor. You thought that he'd be met with the same coldness as you, and that you’d finally have someone who was in the same boat as you, someone who'd understand. Boy were you wrong. Damian was met with such a warmth it made your skin itch and your eyes teary. You wanted to throw up, this isn't fair, he doesn't even try and he gets their love and attention, yet here you were begging for scraps. Regardless, you thought that at least you could try again with Damian, he was technically blood-related to you after all. Yet when he pulled a knife on you and almost cut your throat, instead leaving a cut on your cheek down to your jaw, you could only stare at him in shock. 
You expected outrage and at least some sort of punishment for Damian, considering he had attacked you unprovoked and that you had no prior martial arts training, you were just a civilian. Dick only pulled you aside after Alfred had patched you up, you’ll never forget the words he said to you.
“(Y/n), what Damian did was a mistake. He’s had a rough childhood with some very bad people and it's not his fault he reacted this way. I know you're hurting, and I promise that this will be the first and last time this ever happens. Please, forgive him.” Dick said softly and mourningly.
You just let out a quiet “okay” not even focusing on Dick’s words, no, your main point of focus was the large, warm hand tenderly cradling your injured cheek. You didn't even realize how touch starved you really were, practically melting into his palm. You almost verbally protested when he retracted his hand as soon as you said “okay”. He was leaving.
“Thanks (Y/n), we really appreciate it. He's a good kid, I promise, he just needs some love and attention is all. I’ll come around to check on you soon, okay?” He said, moving away from you, obviously distracted.
You just “hmmed” in response. You knew he was lying, he would never come see you after this, and you were partly right. He came around the manor all the time now, but never for you, only for your attacker. Damian never did apologize for attacking you by the way. He just moved on, most likely realizing that you weren't a threat and were not worth his energy. 
Your cheek would still forever be scared though, not that anyone cared.
That's okay though, you honestly didn't want to talk to him anyway. The entire “Damian” incident was forgotten about quickly as the family bonded and had movie nights, patrols, and hangouts that you were not invited to. Well technically you were, but you realized that your presence just ruined the overall mood so you just decided that it was better if you just stayed away. It's fine, you did NOT need them. You had other people in your corner that actually cared so you were fine (not really).
Thankfully, you had convinced Bruce (not that he really cared) to let you stay at your old school and not transfer to Gotham Prep. So you got to keep your friends, the only people who understood your plight at the manor, the only people who cared; it was after this that you decided to stop caring as well. You weren't chosen by Bruce Wayne, you were forced upon him. Wayne Manor was not your home, just a stop along the way.
So, you made your peace.
Then, of course things changed, and now the bat family was starting to turn their interests on you. 
Catching attention in Gotham was never a good thing.
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whoskimii · 4 months ago
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can we just take a minute to appreciate how cuddly megumi would be when he's sleepy :(
⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > megumi x you. pure fluff!! he's so soft. tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
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poor megumi would be so tired. like, hey ! it's not that easy to be a grade two jujutsu sorcerer and a student at the same time.
he needs some rest. and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to take little nappy naps in your arms. yeah, he's just that needy when he's exhausted.
"hey, where you goin'..." he mumbled into the pillow as you were about to leave the bed. "i'm thirsty, meg—" he cut you mid-sentence. "drink later."
of course, you obliged and laid back down. you didn't want to irritate your sleepy boyfriend. he already had too much weight on his shoulders, and adding some more wasn't the best option on the table.
he instantly nuzzled his face in your neck, eyelashes fluttering against your skin. "m'tired..." he mumbled. "i know you are." you replied quietly, caressing his dark hair.
sometimes, you forgot how needy he could be. but you didn't complain. never. maybe that's why megumi loved you so much. but the funny thing is that he'd always deny how clingy he was. he just didn't want to admit it because you always teased him. but deep down, he knew you were right.
he couldn't help himself. how could he ? you were just so soft, so warm. you felt like a dream. sometimes, he'd even say the most romantic, adorable, heart-wrenching thing before going to whatever thing he was doing. he was just so clueless. "y'know, being with you feels like home. i'm home." he said before going back to brushing his teeth.
but you wouldn't trade him for anything in the world <3
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ahhUHHGH megumi is so cute i wanna eat him up
⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
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comicaurora · 2 months ago
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Hey, sorry if you’ve been asked this before, but I have ADHD and I’ve been following your comic for years and just now have started to write my own comic (partially because you really inspired me). But I’m really struggling with staying on the project even when it’s boring and getting myself to work on it in the first place. Do you have any tips on how to keep your brain invested or just to make yourself do the work at all?
I have excellent news, I literally just figured out something really important about this.
So when you're an ADHD kiddo or otherwise have difficulty staying on task in a structured environment where Task is the Priority, the main way people try to MAKE you stay on task is by removing your access to anything that is not The Task. No phone, no TV, no doodling, no going outside, etc. In practice, this just makes us miserable because it takes the boredom that's always simmering around a 2 or 3 and cranks it all the way up to 11. In the same way that you would have difficulty staying on task if you were in physical pain, this crushing existential monotony makes it very difficult to work. The work might get done simply because you have no other options, but it will not be done quickly or well, and it will take a while to recover from how much it hurt.
What I realized earlier this week is I caught myself doing this to myself. I had 42 pages of background colors to do, and I thought to myself "this sounds really tedious, but I suppose I have nothing better I can do." And I realized what I'd just thought, and got very alarmed.
Because back when I was an ADHD kiddo imprisoned by school scheduling and a million little factors that keep children immobile and restrained, I couldn't stop thinking about how big and exciting the world was, and how much I wanted to be anywhere but here. When I was feeling really crushed in I'd pick a random spot on the maps on my wall and just imagine being there instead of my bedroom. This was the impetus behind almost all of my creative energy. I've said it before - anything is a prison if you can't leave, and being in a prison makes it easy to imagine how amazing things could be outside of it. Aurora's initial worldbuilding was forged in the crucible of fifth grade misery. My enthusiasm for art and my creative drive are inextricable from my sense of wonder and yearning for excitement in the real world. Not escapism, but appreciation. Wonders unimaginable are out there, and I gain just as much joy seeking them out as I do conjuring them up in my head and sharing them with all of you.
So now that I'm a grown-up with actual freedom in every way I've been able to get, the idea that I was staying on task by making myself believe the world was small and not worth seeing was extremely alarming. It could keep me on task for an afternoon, but at the cost of slowly extinguishing the thing that made me want to make art in the first place - the hunger to experience and draw inspiration from all the myriad complexities in the world.
So what I've been doing is I've been purposefully and intentionally taking excursions whenever I catch myself thinking "I could take a break but it wouldn't be worth it, it's the same outdoors as always, I'll be uncomfy and unproductive and tired." Because that is never true. Every time I've put down the stylus and gone out, I've been renewed in one way or another, and when I come back to comfort fully recharged I get a lot of shit done. Because it is easier to work on anything if you remember why you wanted to make it in the first place, and it is self-defeating misery to just lock yourself in with it and tell yourself you're a bad person if you can't get it done.
I honestly don't know how widely applicable this is. I have worse wanderlust than anyone I know, so for me this has always been modeled as imprisonment vs freedom. I've also been extremely lucky to find myself in a profession that lets me set my own pace on literally everything I do. But I genuinely believe that when it comes to making art with ADHD, you need to give yourself freedom to move laterally, not just in the direction of obvious forward progress. We don't think linearly in any other part of our lives - art is no different.
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navybrat817 · 1 year ago
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I wish I had a smitten Bucky. Just sees me and wants me. 🥺
I know the feeling, nonnie.
Check Yes or No
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky instantly falls for you, but waits to ask you out.
Word Count: Over 2.1k
Warnings: Fluff, could be seen as instalove on Bucky's side, attraction, slight insecurities, minor time jump, Alpine being the best, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I can't send Bucky your way, lovelies, so I hope you enjoy this short, surprise fic! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky wasn't looking for love the day he met you, but it found him anyway.
“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted from his seat when he walked into the conference rooms and nodded to the spot beside him that you occupied. “I’d like you to meet our newest transfer. She’s also moving into the Tower.”
He was a changed man the moment your eyes met. Breathtaking was a word to describe you given how he had forgotten to breathe. He had witnessed many sunrises and sunsets in his life, a kaleidoscope of colors painted in the sky to both soothe and awaken the soul. They paled in comparison to the beauty before him.
One glance and he belonged to you completely.
“Hi, Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”
While he wasn't sure if Heaven existed, you speaking his name was like hearing the voice of an angel.
“I’m Bucky.”
Of all the things he could've said, reiterating his name was what his mouth went with.
Instead of giving him a weird look or brushing him off when he scowled at himself, you smiled. “I look forward to us working together.”
Bucky couldn't tell you what the meeting was about that day, but he remembered the details about you. The way you leaned forward in your seat to pay extra attention when someone else spoke, also giving him an ample view of your chest before he reminded himself not to stare. The slight crease in your forehead when you jotted down an important note. And the soft giggle you let out when Steve cracked a joke.
He suddenly wished he was funnier.
“Have a good rest of the day, Bucky,” you said when the meeting ended.
Bucky didn't have to try to smile with you. It just came naturally. When you smiled back, it was easy to imagine what it would be like if you were his girl.
“You, too,” he replied, giving himself a mental victory for not screwing up his words this time. “Wait!”
You paused and looked at him expectantly. “Yeah?”
Bucky realized he had no reason to keep you from leaving. He just didn't want you to go. “Do you need help moving your stuff in?”
“I actually got my things moved in late last night, but thanks for the offer,” you replied, checking the time with wide eyes. “I'm so sorry. I have to go. I’m in 2L if you need anything!”
“Bye,” he called after you, turning in his chair to watch you go.
How did he miss you already?
Though Steve had a knowing look in his eyes, he graciously kept his mouth shut as he left the room. He reminded him an hour later that he wouldn't break any bylaws by asking you out. The punk somehow knew that you weren't seeing anyone.
Which made him happy.
While he appreciated Steve looking out for happiness, he still had to get his head on straight.
“Once I completely trust my own mind, maybe I will,” Bucky said, even though the stuff was already out of his head. He owed it to himself to take his time. And you.
Imagine his surprise when he found a note from you on his door the next day.
Hey, Bucky! Lunch on me today? Check YES or NO.
The lopsided grin on his face wouldn't go away when he read it again. You must've been interested in him enough to ask about him. How else did you know his apartment number? Why else would you ask him to lunch?
He nearly shouted “YES” in the hall before he came to his senses and simply checked the option before he returned the note to your apartment door.
When he met up with you later, he told himself it wasn't a date. It couldn't be, right? It didn't keep his heart from stopping when you answered your door. Dressed down and casual, you looked like an angel went to Earth just for him.
“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled. “Ready to go?”
He hadn't said much on the way to the cafe since he was too busy hanging on to your every word, but it was like he had known you for ages as you carried on the conversation. Your questions weren't invasive and you didn't seem to mind the occasional short answers. It was also the shortest meal of his life, over too soon for his liking, and he also refused to let you pay for his meal.
He wanted to show you that gentlemen still existed.
“Lunch again next week?” You offered.
“Sure,” he answered, his head spinning from giddiness.
But it wasn't a date.
It was time to change that.
Today was the day. Six months from the day he met you. Six months of chatting with you between missions and slowly getting to know you over weekly lunches. Six months of falling for you more and more each day and he finally worked up the courage to ask you out.
But falling was the easy part. Confessing was an entirely different story. He would either crash to the ground and hope his wounds would later heal or you’d catch him as he fell. No matter what, he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.
“Just like we practiced, okay?” Bucky asked.
“Meow.”
Alpine nuzzled her head against Bucky’s with a gentle purr when he huffed. She was his little partner-in-crime through and through. Like you, even though you didn't realize it, the little white ball of fur helped save him. He was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to bring her to this floor, but any reprimand would be worth it.
Besides, the Tower, office, anywhere they operated should allow them to have their pets with them, especially for emotional support.
“I'm counting on you,” he teased, placing the folded up piece of paper in her mouth. “Go.”
He peeked around the corner when he set Alpine down. The sun illuminated you from where you sat in the lounge, curled up in your normal spot on the sofa. You liked to relax there occasionally to read. He wondered what book you had with you today.
Thankfully, no one was around to disturb you.
Except for him.
“Alpine, is that you?” You asked when you looked up, closing the book as the cat approached you. While the feline was cautious of some, she warmed up to you immediately when you met and solidified that you were the one for him. “Whatcha got there? Where’s Bucky?”
His name spilling from your lips was still one of his favorite sounds.
He held his breath when Alpine jumped up beside you, opened her mouth, and dropped the paper in your lap. He immediately began to second guess himself when you unfolded it with a furrowed brow. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why didn't he just ask you like a normal guy?
To be fair, he hadn't been normal for some time.
“Will you go out with me? Check YES or NO. Love, Bucky,” you read out loud with a huge smile, which was enough to make his heart race. You giggled a moment later when Alpine bumped your hand, the soft noise making his stomach do a funny sort of flip. “Okay, okay. Let me get my pen out of my bag.”
Bucky exhaled a little as he moved to stand in the doorway. You didn't toss the paper away, so that had to be a good sign. He carefully kept himself from showing any outward emotion when you met his gaze, but his knees nearly gave out. His palms also began to sweat when you gave him a half smile.
Just when he thought you couldn't look more beautiful than you had the day before, you proved him wrong.
He ran a hand through his hair and hoped he looked halfway decent since he hadn't brushed it. But you commented a few weeks back that you liked it long when you saw an old photo, so he wanted to grow it out. He lost count of how many times he imagined your fingers in his hair
Maybe one day.
Watching you grab your pen, it was like he was drowning. The tide pulled him under as you made a mark on the sheet. His lungs burned when you handed it back to Alpine. He couldn't come up for air. He couldn't breathe.
Until you smiled again.
“Thanks, Alpine,” you said.
His cat gracefully walked back to Bucky and he swore he caught you trying not to giggle as she climbed up his leg. His heart hammered in his chest when he took the slip of paper from her mouth. Meeting your tender gaze, he couldn't bring himself to open it though.
After he told himself he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.
“Not going to see what my answer is?” You asked as he carried Alpine into the lounge.
“I want to,” he replied, sighing as he took a seat beside you. His cat was perfectly content to lay in his lap. “But I’m questioning if I did this the right way.”
The note you gave him for a simple lunch request may have been a small gesture in your eyes, but it meant the world to him. He thought by asking you out this way that he could give you something meaningful in return. Something that only the two of you shared.
That was all he wanted.
You turned toward him, your knee touching his. The small touch sent heat down his spine. “Open it and you’ll find out.”
He nodded, thankful that his vibranium hand didn't shake as he lifted the sheet. “Wait, let me say something before I do.”
The corner of your lip tugged as you tried not to smile. “Bucky-”
“I like you. I really like you. I have since the day we met. And I'm going to like you tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that,” he admitted in a rush, catching your sharp inhale as he looked into your eyes. “But I know my past isn't easy to deal with. If you just want to be a teammate or colleague, that’s okay. Just. Being a part of your life in some way is more than enough.”
Alpine lifted her head and looked between the two of you, as if she was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.
Bucky felt a crack in his heart when you didn't speak or react, his body slumping slightly into the couch. It was okay. He took a chance and told you how he felt. He wouldn't force you to reciprocate.
“Bucky?” You asked above a whisper, reaching over to help him unfold the paper. He gasped when he saw the checkmark beside “YES”, blinking rapidly to make sure you picked that box. “I really like you, too.”
“You do?” He exhaled, grasping your hand with renewed joy. He was careful not to squeeze too hard. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.
“Yeah. Pretty much since the day I met you,” you admitted, glancing in your lap before you met his gaze again. He saw stars in your eyes. “And your past isn't your fault, Bucky. You aren't something to ‘deal with’, okay? You’re a good man. I can give you a whole list of reasons if you need it.”
Physically, Bucky’s body was in peak condition. Your confession, however, caused all of the air to leave his lungs and made him weak in the best possible way. A familiar warmth moved through Bucky’s veins as he breathed again and it dawned on him at that moment that he hadn't felt cold since you walked into his life.
Not once.
Your faith in him gave him strength. Your mere existence gave him the courage to try. And he didn't have to go it alone.
“Wow,” he breathed, relieved and elated as he gave you a small smile. “How about tomorrow night?”
“It’s a date,” you smiled.
“Great,” he smiled back. A date. He couldn't wait to see the look on Steve's face when he told him that he finally asked you out.
“And I think the note was purrfect,” you teased at Alpine before you scrunched up your face. “I ruined the moment, didn't I?”
Bucky brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it as gently as he possibly could. He could hear your heart race. So was his. “Not at all.”
He knew it was too soon to say he loved you and it was likely too soon for you to feel that way about him, but he felt hope in your smile that you would one day.
For now, he had a date to plan all because you checked “yes”.
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We know it'll be the best date ever, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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willbyersabyss · 28 days ago
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So what are Will's flaws?
Is Will totally perfect in every way? Is he a jealous saboteur? Or a secret third option... neither. Let's discuss Will's flaws and nuances!
1. Emotional suppression
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Will avoids his problems. He hates talking about both his emotional and physical danger because he doesn't want to be treated differently. From a young age, he was taught by Lonnie that he shouldn't express his emotions because that makes him "sensitive" and "weak." So now he likes to hide.
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This emotional suppression causes his feelings to worsen over time. Once he finally lets it out, he explodes. Instead of healthy conversations, he says and does things that he'll probably regret later. He blows up at Mike, he yells at Jonathan, he destroys Castle Byers, he shows his hand (what about us?)
Will's avoidance doesn't only have consequences on him, but others. If he had told someone he was feeling the Mind Flayer earlier, they might've been able to save some of the Flayed. But he couldn't tell someone because that puts him in a place of emotional vulnerability. That's exactly why he waited until after he fought with the boys to mention the supernatural. He traded one vulnerable situation for another, allowing him to avoid opening up about his true feelings. It was a distraction.
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This also doesn't let others to heal from their altercations. Both Lucas and Mike try to apologize to Will, but he brushes them off. Will thinks he doesn't deserve consideration. The walls he puts up forces others to hold onto their own guilt, leaving a sore spot in their relationship. We can see this soreness in Will and Mike's relationship in s4. They never healed from the rain fight. Well... not that Mike tried to apologize after the Mind Flayer debacle. Again, distraction on Will's part.
Will’s inability to handle change is also due to him bottling up his feelings. His trauma and suppression makes him stuck in the past. He doesn’t let himself move through each day where these emotions would be felt.
It's interesting how Will is deemed the emotional one when his sensitivity is actually a result of him keeping his emotions in. Once that dam is opened, it's hard for him to stop. He breaks, just as he fears.
2. Self-hatred
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And all that emotional suppression leads to Will internalizing other people's view of him. Will's self-hatred stems from bullying and his father's abuse. He thinks he's to blame, that he's a mistake. As more people distance themselves from Will, he believes there's something wrong with him.
When he thinks he deserves mistreatment, his relationships crumble more. They're unable to reconcile. True forgiveness can't be achieved if he doesn't think he should be apologized to in the first place.
Will's hatred is the reason why he tried to sacrifice himself in s2 to save his friends. He doesn't think he deserves to be saved. This makes him an easy target for Vecna. It's very likely that Will's self-hatred will factor into his upcoming supernatural plot.
The more Will hates himself, the more he hides, the more he suppresses his emotions.
3. People pleaser
If Will is anything, he's a people pleaser. He's selfless. So much so that this is the first thing we find out about him. While admirable, it actually leads to more bad than good. His people pleasing tendency goes hand in hand with his emotional suppression. Will doesn't like to take up space and inconvenience other people.
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Will's never ending effort to please others leads to him making assumptions. Wrong assumptions. Whether it be letting Max join them on Halloween or pushing Mike to give a love confession, Will tries his best to use his mediator role to give people what they want.
But he doesn't know what they want, does he? Will wanted to make Dustin and Lucas happy, but this created a rift with Mike. He thought Mike was itching to profess his love for El, but that wasn’t what either of them needed. In an attempt to help, he's making it worse.
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He must be successful sometimes, though, because there's an expectation from his friends that he'll fulfill their needs at the flick of a wand. This vacancy from Will makes him a pushover. They think they can make fun of him and he'll just take it because that's what he does. When Will finally stands up for himself, they're shocked. That's out of character for him. It's like they want to say: “Why isn't he letting us be mean to him? :(”
Mike even expected Will to tell him that his own girlfriend was being bullied. Will's people pleasing explodes in his face. So now when he's unable to read their needs and fix it for them, he's to blame. Will takes on the weight of their problems too much. While it's good that they rely on him, there shouldn't be pressure for him to judge their every whim. But it's not exactly their fault because Will set the stage for this behavior.
Weirdly, Will's need to please others is the reason why he didn't call Mike. He thought Mike wanted nothing to do with him, so he didn't reach out. There he goes assuming things again! But Will was there, waiting for the rare occasion where Mike did want him. He went so far right that he ended up left.
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Will's behavior towards El is also an instance of wrong assumptions. Will didn't like being treated differently in s2, so he assumed El would feel the same way. He used his own experiences to inform how he should treat others. Babying El would make her feel more ostracized. Instead, he offered emotional comfort, similar to the comfort he received, after the bullying. This doesn't really help her because she doesn't have the same emotional mechanics as Will.
So Will assumes things, pushes his own wants down, and lets people walk all over him all in the name of being pleasant.
4. Freeze, fly, fight. In that order!
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When Will is scared, he freezes. This flaw is so significant that they talked about it textually multiple times. I'm not sure I would consider it a flaw since it has saved him more than it's harmed him, though.
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The few times Will has decided to fight instead of freeze, he was kidnapped and possessed. Confrontation isn't an option for him. His body believes he'll be put directly in danger if he does anything but freeze/fly. Fight is only used as a last resort.
It only really enters flaw territory when it's an inconvenience. He froze during the sauna test, when El was being bullied, and when he should've shot the creature in the shed. Will is unable to help himself and others when he's scared.
When he snaps out of it, he cries and feels guilty for being so hesitant. He wishes he could do more but he can't. This wraps back around to his self-hatred.
5. Jealousy
When his best friend of 10 years that he's in love with starts to ditch him for some random girl, it's not shocking that there would be some jealousy! Will is the silent jealous type. His jealousy doesn't really manifest into resentment or outward action against the other person. Unlike a certain someone...
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Will only shows it through rolling eyes, a snarky comment here or there, or an outburst at his most emotionally vulnerable. I mean, if Will really wanted to see El crash and burn, he could've kept his mouth shut the entire Rink-O-Mania day. Or he could've ignored her in the courtyard as she picks up the pieces of her project. But he didn't.
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The worst we've seen Will's jealousy was during the rain fight. He called El stupid. There's no beating around the bush, he was in the wrong for that. But this came out of Will because his emotions were at an all time high. Why? Emotional suppression!
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A lot of Will's snarky comments towards El are out of genuine confusion. He doesn't understand how El can have exactly what he wants, but she's willing to ruin it by lying. Unfortunately, he later learns that exact lesson. He's envious that she can do what Mike hates without major repercussions, while he's somehow blamed for her lies. And why does he get blamed? People pleaser expectations!
Will waited until a quiet moment to inform El of her mistakes. Will's goal isn't to humiliate El. He doesn't let his jealousy lead to resentment. Instead, he tried to (snarkily) lead her to make better decisions because it's not fair! It's not fair that she can have it all without working for it!
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And now we're back at self-hatred. Some of his jealous moments make it bubble back up. He bends his painting, something he put his blood, sweat, and tears into, because he isn't enough for them. Their ideal day is without him. Will's art is an extension of himself. He's aiming his anger back at himself by hurting his art.
All of his flaws connect back to his low self-esteem in some way. This is why it's important for Will to receive and accept love in his life. A big part of his arc is self acceptance.
So there it is in all its glory! All of Will's main flaws in one post. What did we learn? Will suppresses his emotions, hates himself, pleases others to a fault, freezes, and is green with envy. And he wouldn't be Will without 'em!
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blue-devil-of-the-lord · 6 months ago
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How do you feel about writing more Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler? After watching X Men 97, I forgot how charismatic this elf man can be. If possible, I need an introverted reader with barely any social skills who starts to malfunction whenever a certain blue is around. When confronted, reader is basically 'you're too pretty' and almost dies of embarrassment.
Social System Error
Kurt Wagner x reader Words: 1.9K A/N: I changed it a little bit to fit the scenario, but I hope it's still up to your expectations :)
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You wished that the ground would swallow you up. Who knows, maybe you would find a mutant who could grant you that wish, as long as you looked hard enough. Clasping your hands to your face, you felt your cheeks grow hot and slid down the door of the room before sitting on the floor.
Why couldn't you be normal for once? Talk to him normally for once, make small talk and say goodbye elegantly? But you weren't allowed to do that. Instead, you had to run into the next door just because Kurt waved at you and gave you one of his most charming laughs. Instead, you spilled your coffee all over the table just because he entered the room. I
nstead, you couldn't get a word out when he came your way, you just turned around on the spot. It was horrible.
The fact that you had developed a crush on the blue mutant was really no secret and the fact that he hadn't noticed was a real miracle. Or maybe he had found out and just decided not to do anything. You didn't know which option was worse.
So far, you had really done your best to avoid him as much as possible so that he wouldn't think of talking to you, but you could always at least catch a glimpse of the blue mutant out of the corner of your eye. You just couldn't help it, Kurt was wonderful. He was funny, charming, polite, intelligent and incredibly attractive. One look at his face with a beaming smile was enough to make your legs go weak.
And today you had really blown it.
Rogue had finally managed to convince her brother to stay at the school and he had decided to teach some of the classes. You were both thrilled and devastated at the prospect of seeing this wonderful man every day, and probably embarrassing yourself every day after you'd already ogled him more than once.
However, when you had entered the staff room at lunchtime and seen Kurt sitting next to Ro on the sofa in his shirt, suit trousers and loose tie, you had immediately stormed out of the room with a bright red face and gone to the staff bathroom, where no one had been at the time. In hindsight, you really should have locked that door.
You energetically threw another handful of cold water onto your face and rubbed your cheeks several times to be on the safe side, hoping to drive out the redness. "Oh God, oh God, oh God," you mumbled and leaned against the edge of the sink, head bent forward. "How am I supposed to survive this. God, I bet Rogue recommended these clothes to him. Lord help me."
Nervously, you began to pace up and down, ruffling your hair. "Why does he have to look so good? Can't he be ... normal attractive? Not inhumanly, divinely attractive?" You'd embarrass yourself, really embarrass yourself, and he'd never talk to you again. Or worse, think you're pathetic and talk to you out of pity.
You came to a halt in front of the mirror again and looked at your reflection. "No, no." You couldn't bear the thought. "Okay." You exhaled and leaned against the edge of the sink again. "It can't be that difficult. Just be normal. Or whatever," you mumbled. "Just be cool. Kurt's just another teacher, he probably doesn't even know you exist. You just go up to him and start a conversation, that's all."
You exhaled. "You can do this, take it easy." You looked up, meeting your gaze in the mirror, and put on your most believable smile. "'Hi Kurt, how ya doing?' No, no, that's too casual." You paused for a moment and thought. "'Good afternoon, Mr. Wagner, how are you today?' Oh God, far too formal."
You wipe your face in frustration. "Come on, it's just a conversation, nothing more. You can talk to students all day. What's the difference? Apart from the fact that Kurt is a lot more attractive and wonderful and that you have a crush?" You gave a somewhat exasperated and forced laugh. "Nothing more than that. Gambit would laugh at you if he saw you like that." Your fingers drummed on the porcelain of the basin.
"'Hi Kurt, I just wanted to take a minute to say that I really admire you and think you're wonderful and funny and...um I've seen you around here quite a bit and..." Groaning, you threw your hands up in the air. "God, I sound like a crazy person! Or a stalker! Or both! This is way too much too soon. Just... keep it casual. 'Hey, you're Kurt, aren't you? I'm glad you've decided to stay with us'."
You nod and run your fingers through your hair again. "That works, doesn't it? It's not too casual but not too formal and I don't sound like a crazy stalker who's way too obsessed with a stranger. Okay, good, you can do it. Just relax and stay cool. Who knows, maybe he won't even notice you and you won't have to talk-“ As you turn around mid-motion, you freeze in place, your heart skipping a beat. "-with him," you added meekly, your eyes widening in panic as you realize who’s been silently listening to your pep talk. Across from you, leaning against one of the toilet stalls, is Kurt, his arms crossed in front of his chest and an amused smile playing on his lips. His tail whips lightly through the air, as he slowly releases his arms from their twist.
You had to admit that your next move wasn't particularly brave. All the self-confidence you had been trying to build up over the last five minutes had disappeared and you did what was the only logical thing to do: you dashed past Kurt out of the bathroom, sprinting down the corridor, feeling incredibly grateful that you didn't have any more lessons today, meaning that you could hide in your room in the hope that you would never have to face him again.
Just the thought of it made your face flush with shame and you threw yourself onto your bed to release frustrated screams into your pillow. You weren't quite sure how long you'd been lying there, but a knock on your door brought you out of your racing thoughts. You didn't really feel the need to talk right now, but you heaved yourself out of bed anyway when there was a second knock.
You were pretty sure you must look horrible, clothes and hair out of place from the bed, but usually only Gambit or Jean came by and both had seen you in some worse circumstances. Sighing, you opened the door. "Listen, I'm not-" You broke off mid-sentence, looking up wide-eyed at the person in front of you, who was definitely not Gambit or Jean.
"Hello, am I interrupting?" Kurt looked down at you, his lips curled into a sweet smile and your heart instantly beat in your throat as the heat rose in your cheeks. You could only shake your head, causing Kurt to smile even wider. "Wonderful." He stepped slightly towards you, leaning against your doorframe, and you were pretty sure you were going to explode instantly.
"Can I...I help you?" Your voice was barely audible and shaky and you tried your best to avoid eye contact, but it was so incredibly difficult. Kurt's eyes were bright and shining and so attractive that she found it hard to look anywhere else.
"Indeed yes." His smile became more mischievous and you were pretty sure your legs wouldn't be able to hold you up for much longer, they were so weak. "I saw you storming out of the staffroom earlier and I was worried. What if you're ill? Or something is wrong? So I thought I should follow you to make sure you were okay."
It was pure torture. You wanted to sink into the ground, get struck by lightning, anything just to avoid having to have this conversation. Kurt, however, seemed quite determined to do so.
"But when I got to the bathroom, something was revealed to me that I could never have guessed." Ashamed, you turned away, your hands over your face. "I'm so incredibly sorry Kurt, I really am... I'm so unbelievably embarrassed right now. Please, forget I said that."
He raised an eyebrow and looked slightly amused. "You called me wonderful and funny. That's a little hard to forget." You groaned. "God, kill me."
"Ah, ah, ah, let's not start with that," he admonished, raising a finger. His smile softened and he gently stroked a finger over your hand, which was still covering your face. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. There's nothing wrong with it. Even if I don't quite understand why." At that moment, you decided that it couldn't get much worse and that if you were going to be embarrassed, you could at least get it all out at once. That way you would have limited the most embarrassing moment of your life to a few hours and not a period of weeks or months.
"Because I like you and you're incredibly attractive and perfect, but I'm not brave enough to tell you that and so I become a walking mess around you every time and I'm only telling you this so I can get it over with and you only have to reject me once and not twice."
You had spoken quickly and quietly and were pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to understand you, however he seemed to do so as he stepped towards you and slowly stroked your cheek again, this time more tenderly and with a sugary sweet smile on his face.
"Actually, that hadn't quite been the plan, my dear," he murmurs, a gentle lilt to his voice. His tail emerges from behind him, swaying lightly as if adding to the suspense. With widening eyes, you realize he's holding a bouquet of flowers wrapped with it.
Perplexed yet touched by his gesture, you accept the bouquet, feeling the soft petals under your fingertips. His smile broadens, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. "Can I take you out to dinner? Tonight?"
Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a mix of surprise and excitement. "What?" you stammered, caught off guard by his unexpected invitation. He chuckled lightly, tapping your chin, which had dropped in astonishment.
"I'm asking you out," he repeated with a playful grin. You were at a loss for words, your mind racing as you tried to process the whirlwind of emotions flooding through you. When you finally managed to utter a "yes," your voice came out as no more than a soft squeak, barely audible over the pounding of your heart.
Kurt smiled contentedly, took your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. "Tomorrow night, eight o'clock. I'll pick you up." With a wink and a slight bounce in his step, he disappeared down the hall, leaving you standing there, bouquet in hand, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.
As the realization sunk in, you hurriedly set the bouquet down on your table and dashed down the corridor to Gambit's room.
You had a date with Kurt Wagner, and the sudden rush of excitement left you with one pressing question: What on earth were you going to wear?
Part 2 (in work)
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uravitypng · 1 month ago
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bird creature/hybrid keigo takami x chubby reader
KINKTOBER: breeding (+praise)
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word count: 3.0k words / mdni ! 18+ / this turned into a full on fic and is pretty fluffy tbh <3 it has more plot than porn sdfgjhbmfbxfvcbsxn and i haven't read it through properly but ssshhhh
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being kicked out of your party sucks, 'you don't fill the roll of beast tamer' or something, they've found someone more skilled and experienced so now you're stuck alone in the middle of a forest after accepting a quest which you currently regret taking.
it should be a simple herb collection quest but it's being more of a hassle than it's worth, you shred off the top layers of your clothes and tie it around your waist, dropping your sheep hide bag and gulping down some of your water. after a while you stumble across a clearing with a lake and it looks like you'll finally be able to have room to properly set up your tent.
you don't realise but you're being watched. golden brown eyes piercing down at you, watching you with hawk-eyed vision on high alert to his surroundings. you met him the following morning, as you were leaving your tent something suddenly blocked out the sunlight before landing next to you. a bird creature was in front of you or maybe he was a hybrid, you weren't sure but he was rather intimidating. this man has bright red feather wings with a huge wing span and sandy blonde and white small fluffy parts on his arms and chest covered with a brown flimsy tunic with a handsome human face with golden eyes and blonde windswept hair. you're already quite fearful but after you spot his talons that look like they could slice you in half you really start panicking.
you were able to calm down when he smiled and held out his hand, you flinched first but in his palms where berries. you know those berries, they were edible, very rare and very tasty. later you found out his name was keigo but everyone call him hawks, when he told you this he also told you that he wanted you to call him keigo. he has limited human speech and it was hard to communicate with each other but you both tried your best.
you don't know this but when you accepted the berries he gave you in his mind that made you his mate, it solidified it in his mind and he was very happy that you accepted his advances. he's your provider and he has to look after you. you don't know that he thinks like that though.
you should of left the forest weeks ago, there was no reason for you to stay... well apart from keigo. you knew he would stay in the forest it's his home, you couldn't ask him to go with you and why would he? 'i probably care about him a lot more than he does me, which is fine! he likely has plenty of friends and his own kind in the forest, i just miss company after what happened with my old party... i like his company.' you can't bring yourself to leave, not yet, even if that means you're getting close to the rainy season, and it's always dangerous to be out in the wild in the rainy season. it's so easy to wind up dead, your body never found either downstream or at the bottom of cliffs that people can't access.
"shit!" you were foresting for some berries when you felt a drop of rain fall on your head, that drop turned into ten, then twenty, then fifty, all in a matter of seconds. you nearly fell as you tried to turn back to the somewhat safer option of your tent but the ground below you quickly became mud and slippy causing you to trip, luckily you were able to catch yourself on a nearby tree before falling face first and getting back as fast but safely as you can.
you're soaked to the bone and as the tent finally meets your eyeline it's getting you to walk quicker. you hear something above and you look up the best you can, covering your eyes with your hand but still somehow some water gets in your eyes, looking above you see hawks flying to you. "keigo, what are you doing?! go home, get in the tent, get anywhere. i know it might be different for you, i know you're less fragile than me but it's still raining heavily. what if there's lightning!" you shout at him to the sky.
keigo lands down, water slashing you in the process and getting mud on your trousers. he's careful as he pulls you towards him, making sure his talons won't hurt you and you're pressed against his body, "come." you're confused and you try to move so you can reach your tent but as you look behind you your back straightens as you see your tent. you don't even know if you could call it a tent anymore. the wind has blown it so much that it's just broken cut up fabric tied down by one singular peg, the others already blown away. "come," he repeats himself and pulls you closer towards his warm body before flying away, you can't help but scream as you lift up off the ground and you swear over the rain you can hear keigo laugh. you always wondered what it would be like if he took you up in his wings to fly, you've always thought they were so majestic but you never envisioned it going like this.
it's hard to hear and talk over the heavy patter of the rain but you try anyway. "keigo where are we going?"
"home," he replies and you hear him loud and clear, you don't know if that's because he's louder than the rain or leaning close to you or if you hear it loud and clear because your heart is just beating out of your chest at the answer.
it seemed like a long while of flying but when you finally reached the floor keigo carefully landed and put you down. looking around to where you are you see that you're outside a cave but you don't know that you can call it a cave anymore. at a quick glance from the outside it looks like it was originally a cave but the opening is covered by rocks, wood and other building materials, keeping the inside warm and dry. there's a wooden door to the side and you think you can see a lock on it. the outside reminded you a lot of your childhood home but you can't pinpoint why. "come," he grabs your wrist cautiously with his talons and leads you inside.
a blast of heat hits you when you enter and you immediately warm up, even if it's just a little bit through your wet clothes. it looks pretty barren apart from some small trinkets along the wall and the bed is covered in blankets and other fluffy comfortable things, definitely more comfortable than anything you've been sleeping recently. you stay where you are not moving from the door, not wanting to get everything wet. keigo leaves but comes back a minute or so after with a towel for you and second one in his hand for him.
"thank you," you say quietly and shyly taking the towel from him. after doing your best to dry your hair and dry the rest of your clothes keigo leans down to your neck and nuzzles you while cooing, heat quickly rises to your cheeks and he pulls back and takes you further into his home before dropping your hand and he goes back into one of his back rooms.
you miss his hand in yours but when he returns he's holding a shirt, "for you."
"me?" you point to yourself and he nods. "i don't know if it will fit, i might be a bit small." you tell him but he looks back at you with an easygoing smile that puts you at ease. you know it probably won't fit right, you're not exactly small but you don't have much choice with how wet your clothes are. "thank you," you return his smile. you feel small under his gaze as he looks at you, it seems like he has no plan to leave you alone to get changed or look away. "um, okay, i'll-" you turn away from him and lift up your top. when you take it off and start to fold it keigo holds you from behind, wrapping his arms around you, his wings softly fluttering. you get flustered and wonder what you should do, this isn't normal human behaviour but keigo isn't human maybe this is completely normal for him, although he's never done this before, but maybe he knows how cold you are.
"k-keigo i need to put this on, i'll get cold." he's slow as he takes his hands off you, making you shiver in the process. you quickly get changed pulling on the top that you've been given and pulling down your trousers. you were right about how it doesn't fit you but at least you're dry. the top is thin and covers up to your mid-thigh, the fabric tight along your waist, stomach and breasts but it's still comfortable. you turn round to look at him and twiddle with your thumbs, he smiles at you again and rubs his face against yours, making your cheeks heat up.
"drink?"
"huh?" you ask slightly distracted by how intimate this is.
"drink? keep you warm." he gestures to you and then gestures to another room. you nod your head, not knowing what drink you're saying yes to but happy to be warm and experience what drinks keigo likes and drinks, it might just be tea you'll have to wait and see.
you feel a bit uncomfortable just standing around and you don't notice any chairs so you perch yourself on the bed, hoping keigo won't mind. when keigo comes back he's wearing different clothes and he's holding two mugs, you smile at him and you notice he doesn't smile back. 'did i do something wrong? he's not smiling. maybe i was wrong about him not minding about me sitting down on the bed, i should of just stayed standing up.' keigo is holding onto the mugs so tightly that his hands are turning white. "i'm really sorry keigo, i didn't mean to make you angry," you rush out as quick as you can, hurrying to get up but as you start lifting off the bed two feathers rapidly leave keigo's wings and pins you down to the bed by the top you're wearing. you've never seen him do that before so part of you is thinking about how impressive it is, the other part of you worried and confused hoping he'll forgive you for whatever accidental mistake you made.
keigo places the cups down on the side. "i'm sor-" before you can finish your sentence, he moves on top of you, making your eyes widen, at that moment you see his eyes, heavily dilated looking down at you tenderly but hungrily.
"do you like?" he asks stroking your chubby cheeks.
"like?" you ask confused.
"nest." he kisses your nose.
you're not one hundred percent sure what you're saying yes to but you think he's talking about what you're laying on and you do like it, it's warm and cosy and you could stay here for ever. "i like it very much. i could stay here forever."
keigo trills when he hears you say that, "did a good job?"
you never thought keigo would be one for seeking approval but you suppose everyone does. "amazing job." you nod your head and lift your hands up to his wings and run your hands through them making him shiver. after all that's happened you're still surprised as he gently bites your lip, a silent request for you to open your mouth and you grant him access, parting your lips, keigo taking the lead controlling the movement as your tongues intertwine and you kiss. you have no idea how much time goes by, so caught up in the moment, it could of been three minutes or thirty for all you know, all you know is how good everything feels.
as you move apart you open up your eyes to see him smirking at you, your cheeks are hot. he kisses the corner of your mouth and squeezes your plush thighs before gently trailing his knuckle up and down your inner thigh, slowly inching up your, his, top. keigo brings both his hands to your outer thighs and slivers up the rest of the top until he sees your hips, eyes practically glowing as he nuzzles your neck again.
at some point while all of this was happening he started rubbing his hard dick along your thigh, getting precum everywhere, you had no idea when was able to take off his clothes.
this time he uses his talons as he rips up your underwear leaving you bare and maybe you should be scared of how close his talons were to you but you weren't. he uses his knuckles again and brushes along your opening, he thrills when he feels how wet you are and before you even realise it he's slowly pushing himself into you. he sees you wince and kisses all along your neck and pauses for a second, then continues just as slow as he was before not wanting to hurt you. when he's fully in he waits and kisses you all over, touching all over your body, your hips and stomach especially, groping and squeezing. keigo feels you start relaxing around him and starts moving, slow thrusts in and out of you, not wanting to hurt you.
keigo's thrusts start to speed up uncontrollable as he kept feeling you clench around him and how wet you are, almost feral, animalistic. a white creamy ring forms at the bottom of his dick and he becomes more and more feral. you moan loudly and bury your head into the soft blankets and materials. "feel so good!" you cry out mumbled against the pillows. you ball your fists up into the covers, holding onto them tight and keigo goes harder.
"you feel good too. i'll keep making you feel good," he leans down to your ear and kisses your cheek. you nod your head even though it wasn't a question and keigo's eyes dilate even more than they have been. he touches you very gently, circling against your clit and kisses your pulse point, delicately sucking a mark on your neck. his pace stays the same, still fast. your back arches and you feel the coil in your stomach winding up more and more, so close to snapping. you whine as the coil in you snaps and you cum, body tight in an arch before shaking.
keigo smirks as he watches your body fall and go limp. he picks up your legs and folds you in half, gripping hold of your thighs tightly and his pace increases so fast that it leaves you breathless, your body bounces and he watches you ravenously. "gonna give you my seed, gonna make you a pretty mummy." keigo chokes a groan and holds onto you tighter. you should be trying to move away and tell him no but you don't, instead you clench tighter around him and nod your head rapidly in desire, you've never wanted something so badly. warm ropes of cum spills into you filling you up. keigo smirks and peppers your face with kisses.
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"keigo have you seen how messy tsunagu's clothes are! it's a nightmare washing them all the time!" you complain scowling as you pick up your youngest sons shirt.
keigo chuckles and comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing you behind you ear, "he's such a troublemaker." you shiver as you feel his breath against your skin and his voice so close to you, he smirks.
it's been five years since you first stepped foot in your home, it's been five years since you and keigo first had sex. in those five years a lot has changed, your relationship included. you and keigo have no problem communicating anymore, both now speaking the same language with keigo learning how to write and read everything too. you have two boys together and they're wonderful. you got married and it was one of the happiest days of your life. you've practically abandoned human civilisation, by your own choice. occasionally you'll go into town if you need something but you stay in the forest most of the time. you've met keigo's friend and they all call him hawks, even the ones he's known since children. you asked him why he told you to call him keigo when you first met especially since everyone calls him hawks and he told you it's because he knew as soon as he met you that you were his mate and you would spend the rest of your life together.
"i know a way to calm him down." you hear the mischievous tone in his voice.
you play along, "oh?"
"i think he needs to be a big brother." he pulls you closer to him and rubs your soft stomach.
grinning wide, "really?"
keigo hums and kisses your neck. "yeah birdie, a little one he can help and look after will keep him out of trouble." he nuzzles against you and plays with your stomach. he turns you around to look at him, holding onto your hands and smirking. nonchalantly asking, "what are we aiming for this time? a girl or another boy?" he taps his finger to his chin, "i'm thinking girl."
"i'm thinking a girl too," you smile fondly and kiss his nose. keigo's wings flutter out when you kiss him and you giggle.
"i'll lock the door."
472 notes · View notes
wheeboo · 4 days ago
Text
caught in bloom, caught on you | xu minghao
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SYNOPSIS. in which you find yourself becoming a regular𑁋or perhaps more than that𑁋at minghao's flower shop. PAIRING. florist!xu minghao x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, a pinch of angst, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers WARNINGS. hao basically falls in love at first sight HAHA, mild cursing, implied that yn lost someone close to them, a lot of yearning n pining, kissing WORD COUNT. 8.3k
notes: wheeboo is NOT in their short-ish fic era anymore and is in their long-ish fic era rn 😭 anyway,, i didnt have a title for the fic until hao posted his song on his birthday so... I hope u all enjoy?? this might be one of my faves haha
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Minghao likes these kinds of days.
Thin, irregular shapes of cotton drift lazily across the endless blue embrace of the skies. The afternoon sun carries warmth in its hands that he could feel right through the glass windows of his flower shop. It's almost as if the season of summer itself is breathing through his shop, softly encouraging his little garden to reach for the light.
Minghao runs his slender fingers through the cool edges of a hydrangea, its soft petals a deep shade of prismarine.
Ever since he was younger, his mother had told him that flowers weren't just things to be cared for. They were companions, your friends if you'd let them be, each blooming with all different kinds of personalities.
He likes how the flowers didn't ask for much; they simply needed patience and care, and in return, they gave him a sense of peace that he couldn't find anywhere else.
The sudden chime of the bell pulls him from his thoughts. He straightens up, wiping his hands on the apron tied loosely around his waist, and glances toward the door.
The figure the walks through the door is unfamiliar, yet it's easy to catch the way the sunlight highlights the edges of your silhouette, almost like a halo as you step inside the shop. For a moment, Minghao is simply taken aback by the quiet grace of your entrance, the way the afternoon light seems to favour you.
Your gaze circles around the shop, taking in the rows of flowers with a soft curiosity. There's some sort of quiet hesitation in your movements when you take a few more tentative steps inside, as if you're trying to find the right place to be in this space, just as much as you're trying to find the right flower.
Minghao finds himself clearing his throat, drawing a polite smile across his lips and catching your attention right away.
"Good afternoon," he greets calmly. "Can I help you with something today?"
You glance up at him, a slight surprise in your eyes before they soften.
"Hi, um... Yeah, I was actually looking to see if I could buy some flowers. The shop I went to before closed down, so I've been searching for a new place. It was a bit of a drive." Then you hesitate briefly, before continuing, "I'm not sure what to look for exactly, but something for a first date would be nice."
Minghao's heart stirs a bit disappointingly at that, though he quickly suppresses the feeling away. After all, it's just flowers, and you're simply here to buy them for someone else.
He nods thoughtfully, giving a soft, understanding look.
"Ah, well. Congratulations first of all on the date," he says calmly, though the nerves itches his fingers. "A first date is always special, isn't it?"
"They are," You reply sheepishly, and the hint of a blush to your cheeks nearly resembles the colour of the roses displayed near the window.
"Is there a specific kind of vibe you're going for?" Minghao asks. "I can help you pick something that feels right."
You pause for a moment, eyes lingering on a beautifully-painted vase. "Hmm, I think... something romantic, but not too traditional, if that makes sense? Not something too cliché, you know, but I also want it to feel special."
Minghao simply hums in response, his mind sifting through the variety of options he could think of. There's this odd sense of responsibility within him to make your choice is beyond perfect.
"Roses are always a classic," he begins. "but they're quite conventional, so..."
He can sense you following closely to him as he walks toward another part of the shop.
"These are tulips," Minghao explains, gesturing to a row of soft, voluminous blooms in shades of pale pink and coral. "They're not commonly picked like roses, but there's a nice charm about it. They're meant to represent long-lasting love."
You take a good look of the flowers, and you're amazed by how bright they appear.
"Wow, they're so beautiful." Then you take a small glance up at Minghao, before back down at the flowers. "You must really take care of these flowers to make them look this vibrant."
"I try my best," he mutters quietly, watching as you continue to take in their beauty. "Each flower has its own needs, but with patience, they show their beauty. Much like people, I suppose."
Your eyes flicker back up at him, and for a moment, there's a quiet stillness between you, as if the space between you two is holding its breath. Then you let out a warm, somewhat nervous chuckle.
"I think I understand," You say, taking a step closer towards the tulips  and carefully running a finger over its petals. "It's about giving them space to grow, right? Not forcing them to be something they're not."
There's something about the way you speak, something thoughtful, almost as if you also understand the language of patience he's grown so accustomed to.
"Exactly." He smiles faintly. "That's what I like about flowers𑁋they don't rush. They just exist, and somehow, they slowly become what they're meant to be."
You lift your gaze to meet his, and in your eyes, Minghao sees something more than just curiosity. There's a softness there, a sincerity that draws him in. At his sides, he feels his fingers twitch slightly, but he quickly smooths his hands down his apron.
It's strange how a simple conversation about flowers can make him feel so... connected to someone.
"I think these are perfect," You tell him, eyes brightening with confidence.
A wave of satisfaction washes over Minghao, who nods in agreement.
"Would you like me to wrap them up for you?" he asks.
"That would be great, thank you," You respond with that cute grin of yours𑁋it seems more relaxed now. The thought makes his heart flutter.
Minghao begins to wrap the delicate stems with some brown wrapping paper, carefully arranging them so they're secure. As he ties a ribbon around the bouquet, he can't help but sneak up a glance at you. You're wandering around the shop with your hands clasped in front of you, looking at the other arrangements on display, and he smiles to himself.
He finishes the bouquet and smooths out any remaining creases with his fingertips. When you make your way back over to him, he offers it to you.
"Do you want to write your name on a gift tag?" Minghao asks, holding up a small card and a pen. He doesn’t know why his heart's beating faster𑁋perhaps it's the subtle hopefulness in his voice that will make your name linger longer, even after you leave.
You glance at the pen in his hand, considering it for a moment before nodding.
"Sure, I'd love to," You tell him with a faint smile, snatching the pen from his grasp, giving it a quick click before writing something down, the tip of your tongue just barely peeking out in concentration.
When you finish, you hand the card back to him. He takes it from you carefully, inspecting your neat, intricate handwriting. It's simple, yet there's a certain elegance to it it. Minghao reads it under his breath: For someone special, who I hope feels the same - Y/N.
Y/N, he repeats in his mind.
"I'll finish it up for you now," he says, placing the card with the bouquet. He arranges the flowers once more, making sure everything is perfect before handing it to you.
You find yourself fishing into your bag for your wallet. "How much do I owe you?"
Minghao hesitates for a moment, his fingers hovering over the register, but there's something about the way your features soften and how your eyes meet his that makes him pause.
"It's on the house."
You stop your hands, peering back up at him with a surprised look. "Really? Are you sure?"
"Of course," he assures calmly. "It's the least I can do."
You just blink at him a few times, a soft chuckle escaping your lips.
"Thank you," You let out sheepishly as you take the bouquet in your hands, the ribbon slipping through your fingers as you carefully adjust it. There's a split second that passes where you sneak a glance at the nametag on his chest. "I really appreciate it. I'm sure they'll love them."
Something in his chest tightens at that𑁋they'll love them. Minghao tries not to overthink it, tries to ignore the brief twinge of something unsettling in his chest.
But you're smiling, so he smiles back.
"I hope so," he replies gently, and with a polite bow of his head, he adds, "I'm sure they'll appreciate the thought behind it."
As you walk towards the exit, you take a final look around the shop, eyes lingering on the shelves of flowers, before turning back to Minghao.
"I'll be sure to come back," You say brightly, and the way the afternoon sunlight pours down all around you in the doorway makes you appear almost angelic. "Thank you for everything."
"I'll be here," Minghao responds, offering a small, timid wave of his hand. "Take care."
The chime of the bell above the door announces your departure, and a sigh leaves him.
It's just flowers, he tells himself again. Just flowers.
And flowers𑁋like people𑁋don't rush.
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Minghao finds himself wiping away some spilled soil on the counter, the soft hum of piano music drifting throughout the quiet flower shop. He had just gotten done cleaning up after a busy morning of rearranging a few displays around the shop to tie into the slow seasonal changes that were beginning to take shape outside.
The shift from the warm tones of summer to the cool shades of autumn had arrived, bringing a new, fresh palette for him to play with. Chrysanthemums, petunias, dahlias, and marigolds were beginning to make their way into the shop, taking their place next to the peonies and roses that had been so meticulously cared for.
When the last bits of soil are wiped away, Minghao steps back to admire the beauty of the shop around him, he takes in a deep inhale, letting in the earthy scent of the fresh blooms fill his lungs.
After storing away a few extra vases in the backroom, the chime of the door hits his ears, and Minghao finds himself straightening back up to greet whoever had come inside.
When looks up, however, he freezes for a moment. He catches you standing in the doorway, and Minghao has to blink a few times to make sure his mind wasn't playing any tricks on him.
"Hi, again," You're the first to greet this time, and then that grin spreads across your face once again, one that seems all-too familiar.
Minghao leans against the counter. "Back so soon?"
"I was just in the area, couldn't help myself, you know..." You drawl with a playful shrug. "I actually just officially moved into the city just last week, hopefully to be closer for this new job and well... The drive here isn't as long as before."
Minghao smiles softly. It's an unexpected but pleasant surprise for you to admit all that to him, and for some reason, it makes him feel a little lighter.
"That's great," he responds, pushing himself off the counter as he straightens up. "I imagine that must be a relief. How do you like it so far?"
You step further into the shop, your eyes eagerly scanning the new arrangements he's set up.
"It's been great, actually," You say with a relieved look. "Life has been... good, honestly. I think the city suits me. It's different, but in a positive way, and I'm already surrounded by a lot of nice people."
This warm and genuine feeling tugs at Minghao's lips as he listens to you, adjusting the stems of a vase full of a plethora of zinnias.
"I'm assuming that date from before went well then?"
His words makes the smile on your face flicker, and the change is subtle but noticeable enough for Minghao to catch it, even when he's not directly looking at you. You shift your weight between your two feet, and the way you glance around the shop seems almost like you're trying to distract yourself from something.
"The date didn't go well at all, actually."
Minghao's fingertips pause on the cold surface of the vase, brows furrowing in a bit of surprise.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," he apologises gently, regretting for the sudden change in mood. "I didn't mean to bring up anything uncomfortable."
You let out a small, rueful chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no, it's okay. Really."
The air seems to thicken a little. You could only stand and watch for a few long moments as Minghao moves gracefully around, tending to all the flowers with his usual care.
After a long pause, you finally break the silence.
"It was good at first, I think, then it just became... awkward. Like really awkward. I thought I had everything planned out𑁋good place, nice flowers, all that jazz... but I guess it just didn't click. I think we both kind of felt it." You feel your shoulders deflate in a pit of defeat, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you run a hand through your hair. "I don't know why I just rambled all that. Sorry about that."
Minghao doesn't say anything at first, simply giving you some space, but he feels his heart tighten in his chest. He casts his eyes on you, also unsure why you're telling him this or why it feels important to him, but he knows it's a moment of vulnerability𑁋a rare one𑁋and he wants to handle it with care.
"No need to say sorry," he reaffirms, tone soothing. "Sometimes things don't go as expected, and that's okay. It doesn't mean it wasn't meaningful."
You glance towards him, catching the sincerity dripping down from his words. It catches you by surprise at how almost... comfortable it feels to be open right now, with him. The atmosphere here doesn't demand anything of you.
"As people, we try so hard to make things go right that we forget to just... let them unfold naturally," he says softly, as if thinking aloud. "I think sometimes things don't work out because we're not ready for them yet, or maybe they're not the right kind of flower at the right time. You can spend so much time trying to arrange them, placing them in the perfect spot, hoping they'll just fit… but sometimes they don't. And that's okay."
You can't help but quirk a playful lip at that, but you can't resist the way his words appear to tug right at your heartstrings. "Are you comparing me to a flower?"
"Not just you, no," Minghao replies amusedly. "But I think you could be. A flower, I mean. You're just someone who's figuring out what kind you want to be."
The thought about being a flower𑁋in another life, perhaps𑁋is a bit silly. But you also wonder about other things too𑁋if you're being treated with the same care and attention that Minghao gives to his flowers, or if you're wilting like one that hasn't found the right light yet. And as you gaze around the shop, taking in the beauty of the blooms around you, you find yourself smiling.
"I think I'd like to try and take care of a flower," You announce, determination weaving around your voice and words. "I'm not sure if I'd be good at it, but I'd like to try."
Minghao crosses his arms together, letting out a thoughtful hum while studying you for a few seconds. "I think you'd do well."
For some reason, those few words were enough to send heat crawling up your body and into your face.
"Thank you," You breathe out sheepishly, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards. "Can you give me a few recommendations?"
Minghao just nods. "Sure."
From there, he leads you toward a small display near the front of the shop where a few different pots and seedlings are carefully arranged. He describes a few of them to you. You're immediately drawn to the passion dripping from his tone, and the way he appears to light up when he speaks.
"These might be a good start," he suggests, gesturing to a small seedling. "Marigolds are pretty low maintenance. They need light, of course, but they're easy to grow and care for."
You take a moment to study over the baby plant with sweet curiosity.
"I think I'll start with these, then," You say, glancing back at Minghao. "Something easy."
Minghao's eyes don't stray away from how you admire the tiny plant, how you cradle the pot in your hands to take a closer look at it as if you're already imagining yourself taking care of it.
"Taking care of them can be a good reminder to take care of yourself too," he points out. "They need patience, consistency… and a little bit of trust, just like people do."
You look up at him, a smile tugging at your lips once more, feeling something warm bloom in your chest. His words settle into you in a way that's hard to describe, but they feel right𑁋like they're exactly what you need to hear.
"That's true," You reply, the weight of the sentiment settling comfortably within you. "I guess I could use a reminder like that."
"Shall I wrap it up for you?" he offers.
"Yes, please. Thank you."
After mulling over some options, he chooses the perfect wrapping paper and adds a small note about caring for marigolds. You watch him, mesmerised by the ease in his movements, the care he pours into something so simple. For a moment, you forget about all the bustling noise outside the shop, and all that exists is Minghao and the flowers, his flowers.
As Minghao ties the final knot around the marigold pot, he hands it to you, and his fingertips briefly brush against yours.
"Thank you," You tell him softly. "For everything, really. It's very calming in here."
Minghao's smile widens, almost like he's heard those same words before, and perhaps he has; maybe many people find themselves drawn to his calm presence and the haven he's created in this little shop.
There's a strange warmth that spreads throughout your chest as you cradle the small plant in your hands. "I'll be sure to take good care of it."
A few moments of comfortable silence pass as you both stand there, your eyes drifting around the shop to take in the palette of autumn that colours the space. Yet it's almost instinctive in the way your gaze finds Minghao.
"I hope you won't mind me coming back, you know... to make sure I'm doing a good job with this little one." You gesture to the plant in your hands, a playful tone to your words.
Minghao chuckles, a sound as gentle as the petals surrounding him. "Of course. I'll be here."
"Do you mind if I take another look around with the place? It looks great, by the way."
"Take all the time you need."
And for the first time in a long while, Minghao felt like he wasn't just waiting for the next flower to bloom.
He was blooming, too.
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"Do you have a favourite flower?"
The question rests upon Minghao's shoulders while he waters a cluster of orchids in the back corner of the shop. You're hovering near him, aimlessly trudging your fingertips over, but instead lets the question settle in between the quiet moments.
"I imagine it's hard to pick as a florist, right?" You let out a meek laugh. "It's kind of like asking a painter to pick their favourite colour."
The corners of Minghao's lips curl up slightly, his eyes fixed on the glistening leaves under the faint droplets of water. You can tell he's contemplating the question from the quiet hums leaving his mouth, and for some reason, you find comfort in his patience.
"Not exactly," he says after a pause, his voice steady, thoughtful. "A painter might have a favourite colour, but they don't use it all the time. It's about balance. Knowing when to bring it forward and when to hold it back."
"Ah, so you do have a favourite flower," You tease lightly, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. "You just don't want to admit it."
The brief touch seems to linger in the air, a soft warmth that you both let pass without acknowledging. Minghao gently sets the watering can down and looks at you for a moment, his gaze a little deeper than before.
"In China, we have a lot of flowers that hold meaning," Minghao continues. "It's hard to pick one specifically, but... I've been liking the liánhuā lately𑁋the lotus. It grows in muddy water and blooms above the surface, even despite those circumstances. It also represents purity, resilience, and growth."
You tilt your head as you take in his words. You already knew yourself that you didn't know much about flowers, but there's a certain curiosity that washes over you from how Minghao speaks so fondly about them. Even something as simple as a flower has layers of meaning for him.
"That's really beautiful, I..." You trail off, trying to find the right words. "I've always looked at things really surface-level, you know, like I've always found daisies beautiful because they're so simple and bright, but I never really thought much about their deeper meanings. It's kind of like... I never thought about why I liked them. It's just easy to see them and appreciate them, I guess."
Minghao blinks at you, before lowering his gaze down to the floor. "Daisies suit you."
You turn to him, dazed. "Really?"
Minghao takes a contemplative pause. "Well, they're not only... beautiful to look at, but they brighten up any space they're in."
You feel your feet seep into the floor, sinking deeper as your cheeks warm, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were standing next to him. And it's the way he acts like he didn't fucking say anything out of the ordinary almost makes you lose it.
"Are you flirting with me right now?"
However, Minghao doesn't seem fazed by the question. Instead, his lips twitch into a small, almost imperceptible smile, and then a few seconds later, your phone rings.
Minghao just offers you a little wave of his soil-painted hand. "Have fun at work, Y/N."
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"Minghao! Can you teach me how to wrap these flowers?"
Minghao casts his attention up from displaying a new set of hyacinths, catching you behind the counter with a bouquet in your hands, along with a small old lady on the other side with a cheerful grin.
There's a subtle tug at the corners of his mouth when he hears you holler for him again, and he brushes his hands against his apron, before marching his way toward you. He steps up to you, taking the flowers from your hand while you beam happily towards the old lady.
"What's the occasion for the flowers, ma'am?" You ask curiously. Th elderly woman lets out a soft laugh, resting her wrinkled hands on the counter.
"It's for my grandson! He's graduating from high school today. Time flies by, doesn't it?"
"Wow, that's such a milestone! Congratulations to him," You exclaim enthusiastically, softly clapping your hands together as Minghao deftly arranges the flowers within the wrapping paper, before sliding it over to you.
He leans in a bit more, almost too close you feel the way his arm brushes against yours and the way his breath fans against your skin.
"Fold the edges like this," Minghao instructs softly, his hands hovering right over yours. "Make sure the paper covers the stems. Too much pressure could break them; too loose could make them fall apart."
You watch as his hands follow yours while you nervously, yet carefully trace the frail edge of the paper, showing you how to make each fold with a care that's almost tender. His close proximity sends strange flutters to your stomach, but you do your best to ignore it.
"Okay, like this?" You question, pulling the paper slightly tighter around the bouquet.
Minghao hums approvingly, letting you hold the flowers while he circles a ribbon around it with ease. His hands brush against yours as he neatly ties it, and the two of you pull back to watch how it delicately falls over the bouquet.
The old lady glances between the two of you with a knowing smile.
"The two of you make such a cute couple! Do you run the shop together?"
You feel your face fire up at that, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Then you instinctively glance over at Minghao, who surprisingly doesn't seem as flustered as you are.
"Oh, um, we're not𑁋"
"They like to help out here once in a while," Minghao adds in smoothly, though you aren't sure if that entirely helps or not. However you know what he's saying is true, because whenever your break for work comes or on your free time, you find yourself naturally walking towards the flower shop to help out at times.
The lady just beams up even more, scooping up the bouquet in her grasp. "Well, it's nice to see young faces working together! You two sure do have a lot of chemistry."
You offer a wave of your hand. "I hope your grandson enjoys the flowers. Congratulations to him once again!"
With that, the old woman offers a small wink before turning to head out of the shop. "Thank you, dear! Take care, both of you." Her delighted steps echo off the walls as she exits the shop.
The shop grows quiet again. You let out a sigh, cracking your knuckles as you turn to Minghao, who was already wiping over the surface of the counter, making quick work of putting things back in order, and for some reason, it still doesn't wipe away the pit of awkwardness you're feeling. You wonder if he feels the same too.
"So," Minghao starts, still continuing to clean without batting a glance at you. "You're taking over my shop, it seems."
You let out a haughty scoff. "I just wanted to try wrapping some flowers for someone. Don't let it get to your head."
Minghao only chuckles lightly, though he keeps his focus on the counter, yet you could only focus on him. You can't help but admire the way his hair falls effortlessly over his forehead, the slight endearing tilt of his head as he works, and how his movements are so meticulously unique to only him. There's a certain aura he exudes that makes you feel strangely at peace, a magic that only seems to reside within the walls of the shop.
"Why didn't you say no?" You suddenly ask, the question slipping out before you could shut your mouth.
Minghao pauses mid-swipe, looking back up at you. "Say no to what?"
"To, uh... the lady back there," You stammer, feeling the heat creep back at your neck. "About us, you know... being a couple."
Minghao remains silent as he tosses the dirty wipe away. For a moment, he seems to be contemplating something𑁋whether the question, the idea, or something more.
Then he just simply shrugs. "I guess I didn't mind it," he replies lowly, and meets your eyes warily. "Does it bother you?"
Your mind goes completely blank at his question. Does it bother you? The simple truth is that you didn't expect him to answer so casually. You were expecting him to probably correct her humbly, in all honesty. After all, it was just a passing comment from a lady who didn't mean any harm behind it.
But... does it bother you?
"No, it... it doesn't bother me. Really," You respond after a pause, voice coming out a bit forced. Your heart is beating super fast right now. "I guess I just didn't expect you to go along with it since we're not𑁋"
"𑁋not a couple," Minghao finishes for you. "I know."
You feel like you're melting into a pile of goo, your thoughts scattering like ants running out of their pile.
"I'm sorry, I'm overthinking," You mumble out, trying to brush everything off with an airy laugh.
Minghao shakes his head. "I should be sorry. I made you uncomfortable."
"You-You didn't, trust me!" You wave your hands dismissively, albeit a bit dramatic. "I was just caught off-guard and didn't know how to respond."
This seems to relax Minghao's shoulders a bit, but not entirely.
"Okay," he says, and his voice is as light as a  wisp getting caught in the wind. "But you'd tell me if you were uncomfortable, right?"
You give him an easy nod, maybe even confident. "I would. I promise. And you'd... tell me too?"
Minghao meets your eyes with a steady gaze, his expression soft but thoughtful. For a moment, there's a subtle shift in the air, and you can feel the weight of his words before he speaks again.
"Yeah," he answers firmly, sincerely. "I would."
When you open your mouth to speak again, your phone dings in your pocket. You squint your eyes to read over the message in your notifications, before closing up your phone.
"My meeting got cancelled." Then you blink up towards Minghao, as if trying to convey an unspoken question to him.
As if the answer wasn't already obvious, Minghao gives you a small, almost teasing smile.
"I don't mind the company," he tells you, then quirks up a brow. "Unless you do."
"I don't mind either," I like being in this place... with you. "Not at all."
Flowers bloom when the time is right. And you don't mind waiting for it.
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When a flower dies, there's a certain routine that comes after it. Trim away the wilted petals, dispose of the stems, recycle them as compost, and plant the next set of blooms.
Minghao hates seeing flowers die.
The sound of crumbling petals tie a knot in his chest, the stillness that follows afterwards is almost deafening. But he knows it's an inevitable part of life. Every flower has its chance to bloom and thrive, and eventually, it will fade.
The flowers don't belong to him, after all𑁋they are simply passing through his care briefly before going to someone else or withering away, like everything else in life. Minghao knows it's unnecessary to hold onto these flowers so tightly, but after being surrounded by them his entire life, it's merely impossible to let go.
The bell chimes as he's composting a few camellias that had sadly wilted, and he gazes up to find a gust of snow following your footsteps as you step inside. A large, black fluffy coat hugs your body and a scarf is wrapped snugly around your neck. However this time, Minghao doesn't notice any ounce of a smile to your face.
He sets the compost bin down and wipes his hands on his apron.
"Y/N?"
There's a very subtle twitch to your expression when he calls out your name.
"Hey," You croak out, voice a bit strained. "Um... is it fine if I buy some flowers?"
Minghao feels something in his chest clench at your tone, but he pushes the feeling away with his usual calm composure, masking away any concern simmering on the surface.
"Sure," he replies, focusing on the shadows that plague over your features. "Is there anything specific you're looking for?"
Your eyes drift away from to look around the flower shop, taking note of the bright, usual blooms that surround you, yet none of them appear are what you're looking for.
"Do you have, um..." You feel like you're already going to regret this. "...anything for a funeral?"
The words float in the air between you both. Minghao's expression falters for just a moment, the calmness that he usually carries slipping as his eyes soften toward you.
"Of course," he says softly. "I have a few options."
With that, he leads you to a particular spot in the shop, where it houses all sorts of flowers with muted colours𑁋white roses and lilies, pale chrysanthemums, and pink and purple orchids all arranged neatly. Minghao watches as you gaze over each flower, but he doesn't speak yet, simply allowing you the moment to breathe.
"These are the traditional flowers for a funeral," he explains finally. "White roses for remembrance, lilies for peace, chrysanthemums for mourning, and orchids for everlasting love."
Minghao has picked flowers for funerals before. He's also seen people hold onto flowers that are long past their bloom, clinging to them as if their presence alone could bring someone back. He's been there too.
It's bit a different when it's you though, and he doesn't exactly know how to explain it.
You plod slowly throughout the display, picking up a stem here and there, but each time, you set it back down as if it didn't feel right. But when you come across the orchids, you linger a little longer on them, tenderly caressing the petals as if you were scared to break them.
"I think I'll choose these ones. The orchids," You murmur, picking up a few stems and showing it to him.
Minghao just nods, taking the ones from your hands and grabbing a few more to finish the rest of the bouquet, moving with careful precision.
"I'll handle the rest, don't worry," he assures you as he gracefully works to arrange the orchids.
None of you choose to say anything more, only letting the diffident silence stretch. For some reason, the shop feels a little more cooler, the air heavier than usual. The only sound is the rustling of Minghao's hands moving carefully over the flowers, the quiet snap of a stem as he trims it with his shears. Outside, the snow continues to fall.
Minghao doesn't press for any details, yet even in the quiet, you have a feeling that he knows. Maybe that's why he's just letting his hands speak for him.
"Here you go." He offers you a neat bouquet of pale lavender orchids.
You step up to him to retrieve it from his grasp, bringing it close to your chest. "Thank you."
Minghao knows he shouldn't let his feelings get in the way, but as he takes note of the slight glassiness to your eyes and small tremble of your hands holding the bouquet, he isn't sure how much longer he can hold it in. He feels guilty when he lets his eyes drift down to your lips for a second, before averting it back up quickly.
The smile you give him is nothing short of fragile, faint, but it's there. And then, with a sudden leap, you find yourself leaning into Minghao's embrace without thinking, wrapping your arms around his body as if he was the only thing in the world that was preventing you from falling down. And in a way, he is.
His arms catch you instinctively, gentle yet steady, embracing around you like flowers petals folding inward for protection. His warmth seeps into you as if he were the sun reaching a flower in the early hours of dawn, and his hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, encouraging you to press closer into his warmth.
You don't cry𑁋not entirely. A single tear slips past your lashes, landing silently against his shoulder. He feels it, but he doesn't move, doesn't say anything, and just lets you... be.
"I'm sorry," You mumble into his shoulder. "I didn't mean to𑁋"
"Don't be," Minghao interrupts softly. "It's okay."
You pull away for a moment to look up at him. He's still holding you. His hands have fallen down to your sides, resting there as if he's held you like this before. The way you're looking at him has Minghao nearly forgetting how to breathe; it nearly urges to him to lean down and close the distance between the two of you.
His gaze lingers on your lips, and for a split second, Minghao almost allows himself to follow the instinct to lean in.
But then he stops himself.
He's not sure what this is, what the right thing to do is. His thoughts are tangled mess of roots𑁋he's always been careful with holding himself back, with promising to wait, yet something about the way you look at him makes it feel like the only right thing to do is to give in.
But he can't. Not yet. Not when you're so fragile and baring yourself raw to him.
Yet he sees the way your eyes flutter at him, the way a crease of question forms in between your brows as if you're also unsure of what this moment is, but there's a longing there too. It's almost pleading. And you lean in a little more towards him.
"Y/N," he breathes out your name, and it's the first time you ever heard his voice shake like that. "We... We shouldn't."
You don't say anything at first, your eyes searching his face like you're trying to read something. You open your mouth, close it, and then, with a slight exhale, you step back, only a little, but enough to let the cool air seep in between you.
"I'm sorry, I..." You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, letting out a sniffle. "Fuck, I'm sorry..."
Minghao feels his chest tighten. "It's okay𑁋"
"I-I just wanted to feel something for a moment, you know? Everything is such a mess right now and the first person I thought of was you, because I like... the way you make me feel. I like it way more than I should. And that... that it's okay if you don't feel that way too."
Minghao's heart stutters at that, and perhaps the world even pauses too. All words that want to leave him become stuck in his throat, because he knows deep down𑁋from as far back as the moment you walked into the flower shop𑁋that he's felt the same way for far too long.
So, he settles with taking one hand from your side and slowly reaching up to trace your warm cheek with his thumb, his touch delicate as if he's afraid he might cause your petals to fall down. He brushes away a lingering tear that had been drying up on your skin and lets his hand stay there.
"You... deserve way more than just comfort in a moment like this," Minghao starts quietly. "But you're grieving right now, and I don't want to take advantage of that. I don't want to just be someone who's here for a moment, because... you mean so much to me more than that."
Your lips form into a tight, thin line, and you flicker your gaze towards the floor, the heaviness in the air still weighing down on your shoulders.
"Minghao..."
"And if I act on what I feel, it wouldn't be fair to you," Minghao continues, voice trembling slightly as he speaks. "I want it to be because you know what you want. And if you ever give me that chance, I promise I'll be here for you. Not just now, not just in this moment, but... for everything. When you're ready; when you're healed; when it feels right, I'll be here𑁋I always have been."
There's a lump in your throat that you swallow down. For a while, you could only simply stand there, feeling as if you're teetering on the edge of something you can't quite reach. But even as you stand in this stillness, there's something in his words that echoes off the walls of your mind𑁋it's understanding, and it's care, and it feels like a promise.
"I... I know. I just... I'm sorry for putting all this on you. I think I need space to... heal and think." Then you look back up at him, wonder tainting your features. "Will you wait for me?"
The question feels a bit silly to ask, and it makes Minghao's features soften as he looks at you, a warmth in his chest that spreads like the first rays of sunlight breaking through a cold morning.
"I've already been waiting for you," he says, almost cheekily, and it seems to lighten the moment a little. "I haven't planned on stopping anytime soon."
The chuckle that leaves you isn't forced; in fact, it's quite relieving. It feels like the start of something, and Minghao feels a flicker of hope at the sound.
You reluctantly separate yourself away from him, cradling the bouquet of orchids to your chest, and let out an exhale you hardly realise you were holding in.
"I'll be okay, you know," You tell him, even if it's a bit of lie, or half the truth. You can't tell which.
Minghao glances down to your hands, as if you're holding a piece of your heart wrapped up within the petals, before back up to your eyes.
"I know," is all he says.
The world doesn't stop for grief, but it's okay to pause for a little while.
Minghao wonders if flowers ever feel the same bittersweet pull when their petals fall𑁋the ache of letting go, but the quiet hope of something new taking root.
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You haven't stepped foot in the flower shop in a while. At least, not as often as you used to come.
The absence is especially daunting, and Minghao can't help but feel it every time the bell chimes and it isn't you that walks through the door. On rare occasion you'd swing by to say hello during your breaks at work and sometimes, a pretty, shy smile from you before you disappear back into the world outside.
It's strange how easily your presence had come to be a part of the rhythm of his days. He used to wonder how someone like you would be drawn to the boring stillness of a flower shop. But now the place feels more emptier than before you came into his life, the petals around him somehow less vibrant, the air colder, even when the sun streams through the windows.
He tries not to dwell on it, but he can't help the nagging feeling that maybe you've drifted away, maybe things have changed. Maybe he was just a moment for you. And now, that moment has passed.
So he simply spends his days in the shop, moving between shelves of blossoms and arranging bouquets, but his thoughts always return to you. To the quiet moments when your voice would fill the space between the flowers, to the way you cared and tended the blooms even when you had no reason to.
It makes him think that if flowers could speak for us, then what might they say about you? Would they say you were someone who saw beauty in the smallest things? Minghao often found himself wishing that flowers could speak just so he can hear what they would say about you.
But flowers don't speak, of course. They just bloom and stretch toward the light, growing in places where they are tended to, and even in those that have been forgotten.
Maybe that's what Minghao was𑁋a forgotten flower of his own waiting to be seen, to be noticed.
Luckily, he was able to distract himself a bit today with a few deliveries for a couple of upcoming weddings and a new arrangement for the store he was preparing to do in the next few days, along with piles of orders for days. But it still wasn't enough.
As he flips the sign on the window to display Closed, he fumbles for his keys to lock the door. However, the sound of the bell rings through the shop, stopping him mid-motion. Minghao lifts a brow up, not expecting for anyone to show up right as he's about to close up.
And when he looks up, he freezes.
"I'm not late, aren't I?"
It's you.
The way your voice comes out all shaky like you're out of breath, yet soft has Minghao feeling as if he's sinking into quicksand. The sight of you standing at the doorway is a dream he never dares to wake up from.
"You're not," Minghao manages to say, somehow. "You're just in time."
Your lips tug into a small, relieved smile, and it's enough to make the air feel lighter in the shop. You take a few hesitant steps so that you're fully inside, letting the door shut behind you with a faint click.
Your lips tug into a small, relieved smile, and it's enough to make the air feel lighter in the shop. You take a few hesitant steps so that you're fully inside, letting the door shut behind you with a faint click. You take in the familiar, fresh scent of all the blooms and greenery around you, and it hits you in the heart just how much you've missed this place.
"I had, uh… a late shift at work," You explain unsurely. "so I thought about stopping by, but I wasn't sure if you'd still be here."
Minghao just shakes his head, watching as you brush your fingertips over some lilies and baby's breaths that were displayed on a small table near the window. Gosh, he'd do anything to flat out say how much he missed you, how much he'd been thinking about you, but he doesn't.
"Have you been busy?" You ask him.
"A little," he responds. "but manageable, I would say."
"Ah… that's good," You mumble, voice trailing off as you start to make your way in his direction, catching eye on a particular bouquet sitting on the counter behind him. "No-show again?"
Minghao lets out a sigh, and he feels you following behind as he walks towards the counter. He picks up the bouquet in his hand, letting his gaze fall over it.
"Mhm," he hums. "But it's alright, really. Happens more often than you think."
You quirk a brow as your eyes roam over the bouquet, and a particular, almost knowing look stretches across your lips.
"That's funny," You huff, taking the bouquet from his grasp. It held a colourful variety of hydrangeas. "It looks a lot like an order I placed a few days ago."
Minghao's heart skips a beat as he watches you carefully examine the bouquet, his breath caught in his throat.
"This… was yours?" he questions in surprise.
"Yeah, I…" You bite your lips sheepishly. "It was sort of an impulsive thing, I guess."
Minghao only continues to watch as you admire the bouquet, caressing over the delicate wrapping paper and the all-too familiar bow that he would tie all of his other arrangements.
"Impulsive, huh?" Minghao teases lightly, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "Well, you certainly picked a good one."
You look up at him, a small, tentative smile forming on your face. "I guess I just wanted to get something special. For someone."
Minghao feels his heart sink at that, a flutter of hope and uncertainty colliding in his chest. Someone.
He opens his mouth to say something, but the words get caught in his throat, unsure if it's his place to ask, or if he even wants to hear the answer.
"I see," he says instead, trying to keep his tone relaxed, though there's a hint of sadness to his voice that he silently hopes you don't notice.
You take note of his unreadable expression, over the way his eyes appear downcast and a subtle tension to his posture.
However, this doesn't make you stop from gripping the bouquet tighter in your grasp, and then in the next moment, you're stepping closer and offering it over to him.
"I hope you like them," You state, holding out the bouquet thing as if was the most natural thing in the world.
Minghao glances at the bouquet quizzically, the same one he had just been holding, then back at you. His face shifts between a million different expressions𑁋confusion, surprise, hope, and everything in between𑁋before the tension in his chest eases just slightly as he finally registers what you're doing.
He's a florist, for crying out loud. He's usually the one to be giving flowers to people. Never in his years of practically living in the shop has anyone offered flowers to him. The gesture is practically foreign, yet in this moment, it feels so right.
His fingers graze against yours as he hesitantly takes it from your hands, but you fully let go. Instead, you cover his hand with yours, warmth spreading between you as you gently press your palm against his. His heart is beating in his throat, in his ears, everywhere in his body, and he wonders if you can feel it too.
"I missed you," You declare softly, yet a pinch of urgency behind your words. "I missed you so fucking much."
His chest tightens, and it's as if the weight of everything crushes him in the best possible way. All the time he had spent wondering if you had forgotten about him, if maybe you had moved on, it all melts away in an instant. Because you're here. And you're saying everything he's been craving to hear.
And gosh, does he want to kiss you right now.
This time, Minghao doesn't waste a second. He brings a hand up to cradle the side of your neck as he presses his lips to yours. It's perhaps a bit desperate first, making him swallow down a faint sigh you let out but it quickly settles into something softer, deeper, like two people who've been waiting for this moment for far too long.
He can feel the slight tremble in your breath as your lips move against his, and he pulls back slightly, just to make sure you were still with him.
Minghao lets his thumb lightly caress over your cheek as if trying to memorise the feeling of your skin under his touch, as if he'd been starved for this closeness.
"I missed you too," he whispers, a breath away from your lips. "The flowers did too."
A light, airy chuckle escapes from you. "Oh, did they?"
"Of course," Minghao murmurs, his lips curling upwards against your skin. "They've been waiting for you to come back."
"Well, I better not keep them waiting anymore then, right?" You jest playfully, leaning in back once again.
Minghao doesn't hesitate to meet you halfway. "Nope," he says firmly against your mouth. "I think they've waited long enough."
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danadaria · 4 months ago
Text
Steddie Olympic AU where Eddie gets on his first Olympics for BMX freestyle, and it's so weird because he has been in competitions for many years but nothing like this, something so big and with so many rules.
His background was being a hyperkinetic kid who didn't really care about his life, and somehow being fearless and doing acrobatics became his career. Still, even then it wasn't so serious.
His thing were the X-games and open exhibitions, with fire, hard rock & metal, tattoos, and having RedBull as a sponsor.
Behind the adrenaline he and his friends are a bunch of clowns who just wanted to fly and have the bones of a child forever.
But now he's here: in the middle of a giant line in an ocean of other athletes, wearing a fucking blazer from Ralph Lauren and with the lamest jeans he had to wear in his entire life.
And everything is kinda awful, because he lost sight of friends (Gareth and Max, both skaters, but they train in the same place), and he just heard there's no McDonald's at the Olympics this year.
He doesn't even like McDonald's so much, but god, he grow up hearing about athletes eating hundreds of burgers and mcnuggets for free, and sue him, but his inner child was super excited about it.
"Are you ok, man?"
Eddie opens his mouth to give a snarky remark when he sees the most beautiful man in existence – GORGEOUS v-shape, honey eyes, pink pouty lips, and kissable moles– looking at him with concern.
"Yeah, yeah. Everything is okey-dokey" He says lamely.
The most beautiful man in existence snorts at him.
"Okey-dokey? What are you? Five?"
"Probably. I was sad because I found out today there's no free McDonald's this year. Now that I know I'm not sure if it is worth being here"
Eddie's future husband looks surprised for a second and laughs at him.
"Are you serious?"
"Of course. I read some people ate so many nuggets they left the Olympics cackling like a chicken: I wanted to be one of them!"
"Oh, yeah. I ate lots of them post-competition"
"See?!"
"Ok, I give you that. But this year there's going to be international cuisine and all that jazz"
"Knowing me, I'm going to get too overwhelmed with the options and I'll end with the saddest oatmeal every day."
"You have lots of food opinions for someone that's on a sports event"
"Well, is either that or thinking that my biggest rivals are a bunch of 15-year-olds from Brazil and Japan."
"Oh? What's your sport?"
"BMX freestyle"
"That's the race in the mountains?"
"That's literally BMX racing."
"Right." He looked ashamed.
Eddie needed to fix that look, now.
"And you? What's your poison?"
"Poison? You mean my sport?" Eddie nods at him encouragingly. "Gymnastics."
"I can see it." Eddie looks at him approvingly, "You have the arms of a gymnast, big boy."
The face of Eddie's future husband turns a beautiful shade of red. And Eddie is just a second away to ask for his name, and his number to change the course of his life, when he feels a hand on the jacket's collar.
"Here you are, loser. We need to go this way!"
And before Eddie can say anything, Max Mayfield (his new arch-nemesis) takes him away from the love of his life.
He says bye with a hand before being cruelly separated, disappearing into a sea of people.
"Do you want to be murdered before or after the opening ceremony, Red?"
"Oh, shut up loser."
____________________________________________________________
Steve is going back with his best friend to their apartment, feeling super frustrated. Somehow, 24 hours ago, he thought it would be a good idea to give his phone to his best friend for the inauguration night to avoid getting too excited and watching videos of the event until 4 am.
And now he was regretting ALL his life choices.
"You don't understand Robin, I met a super cute guy, but I couldn't get his name! I'm only going to search that and nothing else"
"Steve, you made me swear I wouldn't pass your phone on inauguration day, no matter the reason. You need to sleep"
"Easy for you to say. You didn't meet someone when you didn't have your phone!"
"I would understand better than anyone! I met the cutest girl competing at air riffle, aaaand I didn't have my phone either!"
"You gave her your presentation card, didn't you"
"Yes, sorry."
"See? Why didn't you make me buy some for me, too?"
They arrive at their floor. Steve knows they're a little obnoxious, but it was the first night and it's still early.
"Good night, neighbors! Isn't it too early in the event to be fighting?"
Steve looks up so fast, he probably hurt his neck a little bit. At the end of the hallway, sitting on the floor next to a very closed door, was Steve's meet-cute: All smiley, charming, and inviting.
"It's you!"
"Oh! Hi Mr. Gymnastics, and hi unknown lady."
"It's Robin Buckley," She says and goes straight to her apartment, "we probably going to see each other again, so good night".
And she closes the door firmly behind her.
"I didn't have. I mean. I don't have my phone to search for you."
The other boy looks at him, almost evaluating him, before giving Steve a big smile and offering his hand to stretch.
"Eddie Munson."
"Steve Harrington."
"So, would you-"
"There's a McDonald's near where I compete tomorrow. Would you like to go with me?"
Eddie stands up and walks until he's in front of Steve. He smiles.
"Would love it. After all, it was my childhood dream."
Steve smiles too.
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