#and that anything i do is always 'backwards'

[yayakoishii]

sleep it off | Ace x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x GN! Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre/Tags: Fluff, Light Angst, Slight NSFW at the start and end, Suggestive, Established Relationship, kinda crack/silly

Summary: Ace falls asleep in the middle of your first time having sex together.

A/n: I have had this idea for a while but, there were multiple factors I had to consider before I wrote it. So, fair warning, I have no clue how actual narcolepsy works. It would be best if you read this as a silly fic based on his gag. Secondly, I have never written sex or sex adjacent scenes so, really sorry if this is awkward ;-; Other than that, I hope you enjoy reading this !!

also available on ao3!

"You better fuck me hard, commander," you whispered into Ace's ear. His grip under your thighs tightened at the words and he lightly growled, holding you even closer against him. You tightened your arms around his neck when he started walking back to his room with you in his arms. "Fuck, Ace, that's…"

You trailed off, cheeks burning at how hot it was that Ace could pick you up like you weighed nothing. Like yes, you knew he had to be crazy strong considering he's the second division commander, but having him actually pick you up was enough to give you butterflies in the stomach. Even the wolf whistles and jeers behind you only fuelled to make you flush harder, the arousal pooling in your gut.

Ace slammed the door shut with his foot when you finally reached and up close, you could make out his pupils dilated with lust as he gently placed you on the bed. You crawled backwards to give him space and Ace immediately hovered over you on all fours, trapping you underneath him.

"You don't know how long I've waited to have you underneath me like this," he looked equally flushed. In fact, Ace's eyes seemed to have a quality to them that said that he couldn't quite believe he actually had you.

"Mm, I think I have an idea," you teased him, hand reaching up to card through the bottom most hair.

"You will be the death of me," he groaned and sat up, straddling your waist just so that his weight wasn't on you. "Don't you think it's unfair that I'm the only one who's half naked here?"

"You're always half naked, though?" You laughed even as you removed the form fitting top you had worn solely for the purpose of enticing Ace into having sex with you. "Not that I'm complaining. It's just my luck that I get blessed by the sight of your abs every day without having to do anything for it."

"Returning the favour every now and then seems like a fair deal," Ace's eyes were trained on your body intensely. It made you squirm and blush harder but you focused on throwing your shirt over to the chair a distance away. (You missed but that was a problem for later, right?) "God, you are beautiful."

Without waiting for a response (not that you had one other than to feel pleased at his words), Ace dived right at your neck, pressing open, wet kisses at the juncture of your neck and shoulders. Every part of him was so much warmer and hotter than you expected and it felt like his lips were leaving a trail of fire. You keened at the feeling, back arching as he marked the way down to your chest and over the nipples.

"Ace–" you exhaled shakily, fingers automatically tightening in his hair. He went lower and lower, down your stomach and then suddenly, you felt him drop on top of you. His weight trapped your legs, his face poking into your stomach. The sudden sensation startled you and you propped yourself up on your elbows to look at Ace. "Ace?"

To your surprise, he had fallen asleep. Of course, you were aware of Ace's sudden bouts of sleep and found them endearing at times, but right now, you could only stare at his calm, sleeping face for all of two seconds before you burst into giggles.

He really fell asleep in the middle of your first time. You smiled softly at him as you scrambled to pull him up and settled him beside you in his bed. Although someone else might have been upset, you were too in love with this fiery idiot to not find it cute and hilarious. You gently pressed a kiss on top of his forehead and leaned over to turn off the light after you put on your shirt.

Curling up next to Ace's warm body, you fell asleep.

•

When you woke up, the bed was empty. It was just you and the crumpled up sheets that you had thrown off yourself after Ace made you sweat all night with his insanely high body heat. You sleepily sat up and looked around but it looked like Ace had already left.

He was a division commander, so he was busy a lot of the time. You didn't think too much about it and trudged back to your room and freshened up with a nice bath. It was normal to even miss him at breakfasts sometimes so you didn't realise until half the day had passed that Ace was avoiding you.

Unbeknownst to you, Ace had woken up and remembered what happened last night. He was mortified and embarrassed and didn't know how to face you after that. He fell asleep in the middle of sex?!! How could he have fallen asleep in the middle of the one thing he had wanted to do so desperately for months now? And you had even gone all out yesterday, dressing to seduce him (not that you needed it, but it sure had helped speed things up) so for him to fall asleep like that… You must be so upset with him!

Ace just ran out and started on his work, avoiding everyone else as much as he could. The other commanders were giving him suggestive looks or asking him how it was and all Ace could stammer out were nervous lies. There was no way he could let anyone find out what had actually happened. They would never let him live it down.

Of course, he already knew that he couldn't hide it forever. After all, you were definitely upset with him and might even break-up with him and then everyone would know what had happened the night before. And then Ace would have to jump off the Moby Dick in mortification and also as an apology to you.

"You're not being very subtle," Marco's comment made Ace freeze. The two of them were currently going through some data compiled by the recent investigation team. Outside, the sun was starting to dip beneath the horizon. "Did something happen with (y/n)?"

"Uh, no, why would you think that?" Ace didn't think he was this bad at lying. Maybe he was just terrible when it came to things related to you. Even he knew that his nervous smile at Marco wasn't convincing anyone, not even himself.

"Avoiding your lover after you finally have sex with them, for one," Marco said pointedly without looking up, "is a sure sign that something's not right. What is it? Was it bad? Did you have a fight?"

"I kinda wish it was that," Ace admitted, giving up on the papers in front of him and also on trying to hide what happened. Marco could see through him a bit too much.

"That bad?" Marco finally looked up with a raised eyebrow. "I'm curious what could make you say that but, regardless of whether you want to tell me or not, I'd say you better figure it out soon. (Y/n) is looking really upset, you know."

"I…" Ace sighed and buried his face in his hands. You were the best thing to happen to him. He had liked you for so, so long and when you accepted his confession (that had been a complete disaster too, what with a bar set on fire, his bloody knuckles and the bloody tooth you had found in your hair), it had felt a lot like a dream. You liked him back too and said yes even though he fucked up the confession. But now he had gone and fucked up again. You deserved better than all this, right? "I need to fix this. But I don't know if I can, or how to even."

"You could start by apologising for whatever you did wrong," Marco suggested.

"How do you know it was my mistake?" Ace pouted. Marco just smiled in amusement as he looked back to his papers again.

"Doesn't take a genius to figure out it wasn't (y/n)," he answered. "An apology and your honest feelings would help. I don't know anyone who would accept and forgive you as easily and quickly as (y/n) does."

Ace sat there in silence for a few seconds, thinking over the words. You deserved better, yes, but all that meant was that he had to better himself. It's not like he would just give you up. After all that time he had spent on trying to get you to like him back, he sure as hell wasn't giving you up without fighting for it. He would beg on his knees if that's what you needed, but he would get you to stay.

"Um, Marco?" Your voice startled Ace and his head snapped towards the door where you were standing nervously. "Could I borrow Ace for a few minutes?"

"Of course," the first division commander flashed you an easy smile. "Just make sure he comes back. He still has quite a bit to finish."

"I'll do it," Ace grumbled as he got up. You had come to him. You had made the first move. A part of him was sure that you were going to suggest a break-up but he told himself that he was jumping to conclusions. You wouldn't do that… right? "Let's go to my room to talk?"

"I was going to suggest that," you smiled weakly at Ace. The two of you walked in awkward silence; it was so unnatural and Ace hated it. Your relationship stood on the basis of your friendship and the ease with which you treated each other.

Once inside the room, Ace closed the door behind him and gestured for you to sit on his bed. You did so and Ace settled down next to you. Silence rang in the room for a few more seconds.

"Did–"

"Are–"

The two of you abruptly cut-off.

"You go first," Ace said hurriedly. You worried your lower lip between your teeth before you spoke again.

"Did I do something wrong?" Your voice was small. Ace had never heard you speak in such an unsure manner. You were fidgeting, playing with your fingers nervously. "You've been avoiding me all day, Ace…"

"I'm…!" Ace reddened in embarrassment. Rubbing the back of his neck, he turned to face you properly before he spoke. "I'm the one who made a mistake. I have been avoiding you out of embarrassment but, you deserve better than that. You deserve a proper apology for last night–"

"Apology?" You were confused. "For last night?"

"Yeah, I," Ace was confused by your confusion. Weren't you upset with him?

"There's nothing you need to apologise for last night, though?" You tilted your head in question. "An apology for avoiding me today would make sense but… why are you apologising for yesterday?"

"Aren't… you upset?" Ace flushed, looking down at his own lap. "That I fell asleep in the middle of our… y'know."

There was silence for a few seconds before you burst out laughing. Ace looked up in surprise, finding you laughing through watery eyes.

"You thought I was upset about that?" You were giggling and Ace didn't really understand it but it didn't look like you were upset about it. "Here I was, worried that I did something wrong and that you didn't want me anymore and you were avoiding me because you thought I was upset you fell asleep?"

"So, you aren't upset?" Ace asked, bewildered at your reaction. You beamed at him and shook your head then folded up your legs to inch closer to him. You straddled him and sat yourself on his lap and Ace automatically wrapped his arms around you so that you wouldn't fall.

"Why would I be upset, silly?" You smiled at him, eyes soft and full of love. "I admit that it was shocking but it honestly just made me laugh. It was unexpected but it's nothing so bad that you need to hide from me, Portgas D. Ace. I knew what I was signing up for when we started dating. Honestly, I'm just glad you fall asleep in moments like these instead of on the battlefield."

"Hey!" Ace weakly protested but it died down the moment you cupped his cheeks in your palms and kissed the tip of his nose. You were smiling so happily at him and suddenly, all his embarrassment and mortification from before felt silly. "Does this mean I get a second chance to prove myself?"

"I wouldn't be against a redo of last night," you trailed a finger down his chest as you spoke, "but don't you have some work to finish, commander–oof!"

Ace didn't wait to hear you finish speaking before he toppled you onto your back, his frame hovering over yours just like last night. You didn't resist and pulled him in for a kiss. Only after a few minutes of making out did you look up at him slyly, flush and with spit-slicked cherry red lips.

"I guess it can wait for later, hm?"

°•❀•°

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#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece fanfic #one piece imagines #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas d ace #ace x reader #ace x you #fire first ace #gender neutral reader #female reader #male reader

[un-lawliet]

“Fit For an Archon”

— in which the Hydro Archon is fascinated by you

a/n- happy pride month to all my wlw, i wrote this for us <3 im sorry for how long it is (gasp)

word count (7.1k)

You are the worst seamstress in Fontaine.

You’re sure of it.

Your hands seem to repel fabric, your needle poisoning the thread in which you clumsily stitch with and leaving you with a truly horrendous looking frock.

Chiori, bless her soul, had hired you as a a request from your Father, who, in Chiori’s defence, was a fantastic tailor, renowned for his intricate stitching and detailed attires- Truly a renaissance for Fontaine fashion.

And so when he left Chioris business, set to start his own amiss the bustling harbours of Liyue, you found yourself tucked away, working in his place for Chiori, who was currently frowning pensivly down at your work, as if it had personally offended her.

“…It’s bad isn’t it?” You state, looking intensely at your boss who chewed on her painted bottom lip, head cocked, wondering how in Tevat you were your Fathers daughter.

“It’s not…Awful” She tries, although not very well, her gaze fixed on the uneven stitching and the deplorable match of colour.

“Better than last time?” You question, a terrible sense of hope clouding your voice, hopeful that maybe, just maybe you were improving-

“No, no, definitely worse.” Chiori mutters, and your face falls.

She sticks a hand out and touches the skirt you had presented her with, lifting it up.

The seams fall and the skirt halves in her grasp, and you cringe silently, eyes closing in embarrassment.

“Hm.” She ponders, turning to stare at you from over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised.

“It’s…Meant to do that?” You try, shoulders raising in contention, only to be silenced again at the shake of her head.

“Take a break Y/N.” Chiori says, tired under attempts to support your terrible creations.

You don’t argue with her, immediately fleeing the boutique as if you were being hunted down by the God King Remus himself.

The bell on the door dings as you exit, waving goodbye to your co-workers who scoff at your exit, whispering words under their breath that you chose not to render.

You just needed to stick this job out until you had enough income to quit.

But- with the state of your designs and the even worse execution of said designs, you doubt you’d ever make enough to follow through with your intentions.

And really…You barely make ends meet as it is.

Oh God.

You kick a stone and watch as it skims across the tarmac, bouncing up and down until skidding to a stop metres before you.

You hate being a seamstress.

Making it to the manufactured river, you slump down, lazily throwing your legs off of the sides, your boots delicately touching the water surface below.

The same way they always did when Chiori sends you away.

How ridiculously boring.

Fontaine’s a-lot quieter in the evening, most people finding themselves at the Opera Epiclese to watch a spectacle, faces tinged red with excitement.

You prefer it when it’s quiet, when the streets are empty. It means you can lie backwards on the hard ground without too much judgement from your fellow citizens.

Your legs still bent down towards the water, with your back on the concrete dock, you allow yourself a breath.

You hear footsteps somewhere off to your right but pay them no mind. After all, passing judgement is only ever passing, and you’re sure whoever it is will waltz past you, giving you a confused once over before immediately forgetting your face.

You stretch one of your legs and break the surface of the river, feeling the tip of your boot soak up the water briefly, before you’re lifting it back out, shaking it gently to dry it off.

Someone cleared their throat behind you and you sign with the frustration of interrupted serenity.

Can you truly not have anything?

Pushing yourself up with your elbows, you turn your face the perpetrator, eyebrows drawn down to a frown.

You were gonna stare them out until they left you to mope at this stupid river, politeness be dammed!

.

.

.

It’s Focalors behind you.

Lady Furina.

Every retort resting on your tongue is swallowed up, getting stuck in the back of your throat and you choke on your words, chest heaving in shock.

The Hydro Archon stares down at you, watching your struggle, her arms crossed over her chest and a smug smile on her lips.

Her hair sways in the breeze, tickling her leg and she seems to be quite fascinated in the dress encasing your figure.

A long ruffly mess of colour and mesh with a corset that one would barely call fitting, you look like a run away mannequin, pathetically thrown together before your God.

“Lady Furina.” You wheeze, propelling yourself to your feet, dropping into a bow, your skirt following comically behind.

Why is she here? Is she not fond of the Opera house? Archons people wait half their lives to meet her and here you are face to face with God through pure circumstance.

She waves a gloved hand in your direction, dismissing your bow entirely, eyes still drawn to the fabric of your gown.

“Your..attire is quite interesting.” She states bluntly, walking two steps to the left to capture your dress from all angles.

Your face flushes, “Thank you Lady Furina, it’s an honour to be complimented by-”

“Were you supposed to be in the opera?” She cuts you off, turning her body in the general direction of the Epiclese.

“What?” You answer before finding your manners, “I mean n-no it’s my….” You sigh, shoulders slumping, “I’m a seamstress.”

Lady Furina pauses, her head lifting you look at your face, studying it with such precision that you feel yourself bite back the desire to look away.

“..A seamstress?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Oh.”

The pair of you look at each other for a moment before she throws her head back and laughs. It echoes around the empty streets of Fontaine and reverberates right into your ears.

“I suspected as much!” She guffaws, clapping her hands together.

You cock your head, confused, “No you didn’t?” You reply, unable to stop the offence in your voice.

Sure you weren’t good at your job but you liked this dress! And you were definitely not apart of any play!

Lady Furina’s laugh trails off and she stares at you, her lip between her teeth, holding back a grin.

“Tell me!” She begins again, and you shudder at the volume of her voice. “Why is it that you look so sad?”

“Huh?” You question, eyes widening in confusion.

Furina smiles, it brightens her face, before pointing at you then back to herself, “As your Archon it is my duty to right the wrongs of Fontaine, and you appeared so gloomy that I had no choice but to journey off my path to check up on you!”

Shame forces its way through your body and you shake your head, holding out your sweaty palms to face her, “Lady Furina you do not need to trouble yourself with my issues, trust me.” And you shiver against her unblinking gaze, “Please, continue on your way..” You awkwardly laugh, gesturing to the street, dying inside.

Furina blinks at you, “You don’t want to share problems for me?”

You take a step back, bashfully shaking your head, “I mean no offence…”

It’s awkward.

Furina tilts her head, studying you, confused.

She is far too use to Fontainians requesting her opinions on trivial matters so much so that the blatant avoidance from you is baffling.

You scratch the back of your hand in the silence.

Lady Furina watches you, dissecting you with her eyes, trying to go over every woe that past Fontainians had brought to her omnipresent ears.

You chuckle, trying to force her gaze off of you before you melt and join the water behind you.

“You’re not watching the play?” You say, gesturing in the general direction of the Epiclese, pleading silently for her to stop looking at you like that.

She shakes her head, closing her eyes, “I’ve seen it before, it gets quite tiresome seeing the same thing over and over again.”

Oh

“Oh”

Lady Furina grins, her opposing eyes still gracing your face as if you were so easy to figure out.

“Do you…Hate your job?”

You gawk at her.

She smirks.

Jack pot.

“I’m right aren’t I? You can save your praise, I know I’m truly otherworldly when it comes to intuition.” She fans her hand up and down at you, throwing her pretty head back dramatically.

“Must be a gift from Celestia then.” You conclude, turning away from her and sitting back down at your river side.

You’re slightly peeved at her reaction and would rather not disrespect an Archon so early in your life, so you do not face her with your glare.

“Come now.” Lady Furina says, strolling over to you, “I only joke.”

The Hydro Archon was now sitting beside you, kicking her feet in the water.

This truly cannot be real.

You sigh.

Well, if she’s asking, you may as well answer.

What’s another sinner to an Archon anyway.

“Do you ever feel trapped by the wishes of another?” You ask, defeat clouding your senses as you speak.

Lady Furina stills, but you do not notice.

“My Father, asked me to keep on his legacy in Fontaine, he’s a brilliant tailor, I mean, it’s like he was born to be one…”

You trail off, and splash your foot into the water, “And I just- I’m terrible at being a seamstress, I can’t even pretend to enjoy it because I am so utterly rubbish at it.”

She’s watching you, you can feel it. It’s as intense as your emotions, you almost shy away.

“Sorry.” You mutter, “I don’t know why I’m asking. It’s not like you have to struggle with these “mortal issues.”

You laugh bitterly in the silence of your confession.

Lady Furina’s hand slightly brushes yours and you wonder if she notices.

The pair of you sit quietly for a moment, your face growing warmer in the seconds.

You’re about to apologise again, your words on the tip of your tongue before she speaks, ripping the pages from your mouth.

“I always find it fascinating to hear how Mortals think.”

“Hm?”

“How they can voice their feelings so freely, it has always struck me.” Her voice is a lot quieter, you almost mistake her for someone else.

You glance, taking in the side of Lady Furina’s face, her soft features seem burdened, you hope silently that you were not the cause of her worries.

“An Archon admiring her subjects…” You say, slicing through the quiet, “That’s quite comforting actually.”

Lady Furina tilts her head, narrowing her dainty eyebrows quizzingly, “Pardon?”

You smile, and hope it reaches both your eyes and hers. “You care. It’s kind.”

She’s watching you again, her chest rising and falling in tandem to the gentle swish of the water.

You place an arm on your knee and rest you head in your palm, feeling bold.

“It must be lonely being a God.”

And her eyes grow wide, for a split second, before she’s blinking and resuming her facade of impassive control.

“What ever do you mean?”

“There’s no higher being to think about you.” You reply, introspection fluctuating in your words before it slaps you back into reality with a cold hand.

“Uh- Pardon me, I don’t mean to call you lonely I just-”

“It’s quite alright.” Lady Furina says, straightening up, her hair brushing your shoulder and her hand moving from yours. “You did not mean any harm.”

She moves to stand, and you watch, perplexed.

“You have the freedom to quit.” She says simply, “There is no higher deity forcing you to stay.” And she smiles, “All will be ok.”

She leaves as fast as she had arrived and you’re left alone to think.

Strange you think.

You hope you didn’t offend her.

—

When it’s not raining, the sun has a habit of overstaying her welcome.

It’s absolutely roasting in Fontaine, and so when Chiori asked if you would stay behind to finish your garment after work hours, you jumped at the opportunity to relish in the cool breeze of the back rooms.

Besides, you feel less embarrassed working by yourself, with nobody around to mock your gowns.

You flinch as you pierce the skin of your finger, watching as a maroon red slides into your palm.

You wipe it on your dress, it clashes with the colour.

“Do you always make a habit of wearing the most..peculiar garments?”

You jump, dropping your needle onto the sickly pink fabric, you wince as it falls, sure to be lost forever.

“L-Lady Furina?” You gasp, turning your body towards her, your dress swishing in your movement as you try pathetically bow your head in her exuberant presence.

“Yes “tis I.” She replies, her arms opening dramatically but her eyes stay focused on your choice of apparel. “Honestly.” She muses, “It’s no wonder they keep you back here…”

Lady Furina glances around your cluttered work room, taking in the flurry of vibrant coloured ribbons dripping out from their boxes, half finished corsets falling apart at their seams and the tatttered fabric unevenly pinned to a mannequin standing just inches away from her.

You step in-front of her, your eyes wide as you try conceal her vision of your failures, a sheepish grimace on your face.

“Um, we’re closed today, it’s only me in- uh how did you get inside-”

“I am the hydro archon.” Furina’s voice booms out, the exaggerated drawl making you cower away from her slightly, “I merely walked in.”

“I thought I had locked the door?” You questioned, taking a step back from her.

“A locked door is no enemy of mine!” She laughs, regarding you with a look oozing with pride, her chest puffed out and head raised.

“Right..” You mumble, picking at the skin on your fingers, nervously swaying back and fourth.

Your fingers are adorned with pricks from your needle, they would bleed should you continue your childish picking, yet you persist, unable to stop your absentminded jittering.

Lady Furina watches your movement, satisfaction appearing to glow in her eyes.

“Now!” She exclaims, wondering over to the only empty surface in the room, an old blue chair, faded with age.

“I need a new ribbon for my hat.” The chair creaks when Furina sits, crossing her legs and staring at you expectantly.

You think the chair isn’t even worthy enough for you to sit on, let alone the God Of Justice.

“I can..Write an order down for a ribbon for when Chiori returns?” Your voice trails off, thwarted by the dull look she regards you with at your suggestion.

“No, no, no!” Furina shakes her head, her actions reminding you of a child, “I want you to make it!”

“I beg you pardon?” Your eyes widen, and you glance around, taking in all your terrible, terrible works of fashion.

“Me?” You breathe, “Lady Furina, if I may- I clearly lack the talent to create anything, let alone something in which an archon should wear.” You hands shake slightly as she stares at you, willing yourself not to blink or look away in her ever present intensity. “You know this.”

“But I demanded it?” She cocks her head, reaching up to take her hat off, outstretching her arms to look at it intently.

Her hair falls down, it cascades down her shoulders like water and you hold yourself back from counting the waves between each strand, instead choosing to look away.

Ribbons are simple, you remind yourself.

You’re not entirely deficient in the art of fashion, you’re just…Well- you’re just you.

“So?” Furina says, her voices drags you from the inner monologue whispering in your ear, she pushes the hat in your direction, twirling it so you can view its simplicity from every angle.

Your clasp your hands together, head tilted like a dog.

“I’m thinking.. here.” Her finger rests on in the space between the crown and the brim, “A blue ribbon thats doesn’t blend in with the rest of the hat but adversely will not stand out…”

You nod, it’s curt, Furina smiles, it stretches her face and she all but glows, cheeks flushed.

“You’ll do it then?”

You scratch your arm, and sigh.

“It will look horrid.”

“It will look like it was made by you.” She replies, sweetly, her voice like the silk in which she adorned, you take a second to truly feel the implications behind her words and suddenly feel yourself become quite bashful.

Your heart ticks within your chest and like clockwork you reach your hands out for her hat, avoiding her gaze.

“A blue that doesn’t blend in but also doesn’t stand out?” Your voice is whispered, trying to act assertive but failing all the same.

“Indeed, a ribbon fit for an archon!” Furina appears to get louder the more she reminds you of her status, you cringe at her volume but turn so she does not see.

“I’ll try my best.” You hum, glancing at the box you pathetically labelled “Ribbons”.

You reach out and touch the cardboard confines, pulling it towards you and shuffling some fabric under your finger tips.

Red, yellow, green…the most hideous shade of pink ever- Dear God did you supply this?

Furina sits, twirling a strand of her hair as she watches you, taking in the chaos of your dress and your work space respectfully.

You really had such a unique flare to you.

Your dress was terribly put together, fabric seemingly falling off the skirt, which, in Furina’s opinion, was much too puffy for an average day at work.

When she leaned closer, she could see how the seams were pathetically stitched together, a bundled mess of experimentation that clearly did not work, the sheer fact she could see the stitching was enough of a sign to tell her that you had made this dress yourself.

Furina raises a hand to cover her the genuine smile that ripped across her features.

You truly were fascinating to observe.

“You chose to stay here then?”

You look back at her, a small frown on your face.

“Yea.” You say simply, “It’s just easier.”

She scoffs.

“What?” You reply, indignantly, “I’m still getting paid.”

“You’re staying for the money?”

“I’m staying to save up the money.” You retort, “As soon as I have enough I am gone, you’ll see.”

Furina laughs, you can help but feel melodic, almost sad.

You don’t know what else to do, so you smile, watching as Furina breaks eye contact immediately, coughing into her glove.

“I hope I do.” You hear her say, and you try to ignore the giddy sensation that seems to course through your veins and into your heart.

—

“Lady Furina what an i-interesting bow.”

“I know, I know! Isn’t it just fabulous.”

“It’s um rather…big?”

“Yes? Is there a problem?”

“N-no! I was merely voicing that-”

“If there is no issue then I must bid you farewell. I have a meeting with a most important diplomat, I assume you have already placed the pastries?”

“Yes Lady Furina…”

“Good.”

—

On days when you aren’t in the boutique, you write to your Father.

You write pages upon pages of frustrated scribbles, voicing your resentment of his craft and the comparison to your own, writing furiously about how much you wish to be freed from your job and allowed to travel with him to nations far and wide.

In the end you send none of it, opting instead to write false truths about how honoured you are to work in the darkest parts of his shadow, and how gracious you are for his talents.

You lick the envelope seal and pop it thru the post office window, smiling softly at the old lady behind the glass.

It’s raining in Fontaine today, dark clouds pulsing in the sky, above you, soaking the fabric of your skirt.

It always seems to rain after a trial.

You shake your head. Damn, you should have brought an umbrella.

When you pass by a group of children you hear their yells, pitiful pleads of; “Hydro dragon, hydro dragon don’t cry!”

And you smile and whisper it under your breath as you look to the sky.

Your thoughts circle back to Furina, you hadn’t seen her as much, especially not with the growing fears of the flood of Fontaine.

You wonder if it’s true, wonder how she’ll solve it.

You have faith in her, you think.

There’s no way you’ll drown before you can leave to travel.

There’s no way Fontaine’s Archon would let you all perish under the power of Hydro when she herself is the embodiment of the element.

You have faith.

—

There’s nothing you truly dread more than presentations to the Archon and her people.

And there’s nothing you hate more than how Champvallon, who was standing in for Chiori due to her endeavours in Inazuma, was currently mumbling under his breath at your choice of dress.

You had been running late, quite literally, the ends of your dress stained with dirt, dying the pale blue fabric brown and green.

“You’ll have to stand in the back girl.” He grumbled, his moustache dipping slightly into his mouth, pushing your shoulders and making you move behind your fellow seamstresses, grey eyes pinched into slits as he chastised you.

You heard one of your coworkers giggle from behind her hand, whispering to another about your ill fashioned garments matching your deplorable creations of fashion.

You bit your tongue and glanced at the wooden floor beneath you.

She isn’t wrong, you think, thank Celestia that your tailoring would never see the light of day.

Lady Furina and her entourage enter the room moments later, you think Furina appears to glow and wonder if your eyes are playing tricks on you, or if this is some strange phenomenon one achieves when becoming an archon.

You shake your head and join your party’s collective bow.

You and Furina had grown closer, although, the margin of closeness was confined between her passing by the boutique window and waving in when she saw you, smiling cheekily as she took in your plethora of dresses that just appeared to get more ridiculous with time.

You had begun to crave these moments of seeing her, positioning yourself closer to the window, as to ensure you did not miss her.

You don’t understand why.

Maybe you just liked to see her smile.

…“Lady Furina, we at Chioriya Boutique thank you for allowing us to present our garments for you today.” Champvallon declares. You cringe at his sickly sweet voice that deepens in tone as he continues his speech.

The man behind Lady Furina is Neuvillette, you’re sure of it. High and mighty, his stature as impressive as his title.

And under your breath you repeat the pronunciation of his name, dragging out the syllables from under your tongue.

Lady Furina allows a moment to pass before she prompts, “Ah yes! Only Fontaines best is suited for your justice party.”

The presentation from the boutique takes hours.

Furina catches your eye a few times, and smiles, it’s subtle enough that you almost believe it’s not aimed at you. Ignoring the flutter of your heart everytime her eyes meet your own.

The final designs are being brought out when suddenly you see a creation that makes your heart drop.

Sitting on a cushion, is a broach.

An ugly, bedazzled broach that you were sure you had thrown out.

And it was being carried over to the justice team by a worker who stares at it confused.

“And here we have a broach for the Archon herself.” Says Champvallon, who is still yet to turn his head to view your horrendous work.

You’re paralysed, hands shaking trying to think of a way you can remove the jewellery without causing a scene.

“We hope you adore it as much as we adored making-” Champvallons voice trails off and he looks at the cushion, his eyes widening as he finally see’s what he’s presenting.

You hear the party behind Furina collectively stop their idle chatter and stare.

Everyone looks.

Nobody says anything.

“And who is behind the creation of this…thing?”

You want to die. Truly.

Your heart is in your throat and feel sick, raising a trembling hand as you step forward, your eyes stuck to the ground.

You’re sweating, palms clammy as you take a breath, preparing to be fired in-front of Lady Furina and her circle. Shame appears to drip off your brow and onto the crevices of your cheeks.

“It was me Sir.” You mumble, your voice weak, “But it was an accident I swear!”

Looking towards Lady Furina, you bow your head, pleading silently for her forgiveness, “I never meant to offend.”

“You foolish, troublesome girl.” Hisses Champvallon, his eyes narrowed as he walks towards you.

You bite your lip, and apologise profusely although you know it will not matter.

“Lady Furina.” Champvallon says as he reaches your side, plastering an ugly smile on his furious face, concealing his bitter dissatisfaction.

“I will send someone immediately to retrieve your actual broach, please, hand that one over to one of the maids, I will dispose of it as soon as possible.”

“No need.” Lady Furina says, halting the conversation instantly with a raise of her glove covered hand.

She glances at the miserable looking broach and then towards you, you hold her gaze for a moment before she smiles, recognition flickering across her decorated eyes, finishing her examination of your face.

“I’d like to keep it.”

“Lady Furina?”

Holding the broach in her hands, she raises it to her face, almost as if fascinated by the shameful stitching and the odd colour scheme.

“Lady Furina.” Champvallon stutters, moving away from you, “Your kindness knows no bounds b-but surely you would prefer something a little more..well pleasing to the eye?”

You stare at the back of his head as he leaves your side, counting the freckles on his neck to steady yourself.

“It’s unique, it’s different, Fontainians are known for their eloquence, and I as the God of Hydro must always be challenging these trends.”

Furina peers over her hands to stare at your boss, a dainty eyebrow raised.

“You wouldn’t dare to challenge an Archons will, would you?”

Champvallon splutters, his face warming to a putrid red, his arms rising up as if pleading to surrender.

“N-No I merely thought that-”

“Then it is settled.” Lady Furina laughs, leaning back in her chair and glancing at you.

In your daze, you barely register the tiny wink she sends you way, eyes too focused on the way you broach was now sitting snug, amongst the fabric of her outfit.

It stuck out like a thorn grips the side of a rose and you grimace.

It was ugly, inarguably so.

Neuvillette clears his throat, eyes sweeping over your trembling figure.

“It was you who made this?” He ponders, head tilted slightly.

Your eyes snap to his, and you nod, it’s clumsy and awkward and you hate yourself.

“Um, yes your Honour, I made it.”

“It’s very interesting.” His voice is light, as if trying to filter out the tension pulling the conversation to a standstill, “The yellow and the pink are an unusual yet unique combination, very bright to the eye.”

You breathe out a small smile, as Lady Furina nods her head. “Yes, yes, indeed.”

“Thank you Monsieur Neuvillette, Lady Furina.”

You’re bowing again, chastising yourself for never taking the time to learn how to properly bow for an Archon, and then you’re leaving, hands still shaking, but head lifted just a little bit higher.

Furina doesn’t see you leave, too busy tracing the colours of her broach, smiling down at the terrible stitching as if it were weaved in silk and gold.

The presentation finishes with an awkward finality, with all eyes subconsciously darting down to look at your broach on Furina chest, wondering what in Fontaine their Archon was thinking.

—

You don’t know how, but Lady Furina had became a regular in your life now.

Always managing to catch your eye when you’re walking the streets of your home land.

Popping up randomly behind you just to greet you before leaving.

It appeared she worked in patterns, as if she was use to working by a routine.

You almost assume she appears there on purpose, it’s always far too convenient for it to be by chance.

“Y/N!” You hear one day, you’re sitting outside enjoying your lunch break as Lady Furina approaches you.

You hear a bustle and suddenly Fontainians are flodding the streets, clamouring over to her, crowding her.

You smile as she appears to soak up the attention, flaunting her hands in every direction, acknowledging everyone, one by one.

The people don’t seem to think about the prophecy when Focalor herself is before them, too busy trusting her with their lives to care.

You catch her gaze after a moment, and she puffs out her chest, as if trying to impress you.

Your heart aches.

You blink.

…That’s a strange feeling.

“Now now, my faithful subjects.” She begins, “I must take my leave now, I have very important business to attend to!”

You hear the groans of her people, as they beg her to stay, but reluctantly they remove themselves from her and walk away.

It’s just you and her now and she gestures for you to follow her.

You grow nervous, knowing there are watchers.

You hear them whisper behind their hands, hear them questioning why the “crazy girl from the boutique was the centre of the Hydro Archons attention.”

You cringe, but follow her anyway, your steps timid under eyes.

You think you’d follow her anywhere, but that could just be your adrenaline talking, your heart thumping within the confines of your chest.

“Lady Furina,” You say when you reach an empty alleyway, away from the eyes of Fontaine.

You pause, taking in the cracked bricks in the surrounding walls. “This is…Well- I’ll be honest it’s creepy.”

“Huh.” She says, turning to face you, “It’s more private no?”

“It’s a dark alleyway.” You deadpan.

Furina laughs, taking your hand in a wild moment of humour.

Dear God you hope you aren’t sweating.

“Never fear!” She declares, “As long as I’m here, nothing can harm you.”

Her words draw out a feeling that you don’t allow yourself to delve into, choosing instead let her hold your shaky hand without pulling away.

“I never got to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

You blush.

“For saving my career the other day.”

You see Furinas eyes move, as if trying to recall.

“Oh! The showing.”

You nod, “Thank you for…being so kind.”

You smile at her, and her eyes drops to your teeth in one fast, graceful motion before travelling back to your eyes.

“Always.” She replies, as if it was the simplest concept to her, like washing your hands or falling asleep.

Your face is on fire.

Gods your hands are definitely sweaty now.

Lady Furina shakes her head, as if pulling herself together.

“Now! I’m inviting you to tea.”

What.

“Sorry?”

“Tea. With me, together.”

“No, no I-I got that.”

She smiles, “So?”

“Why in Teyvat would you want to have tea with me?” You question, hope blooming in your chest, overpowering your habit of avoidance.

Furina stills, her face filled with confusion that you don’t get.

“You don’t want tea with me?” Shadows seem to cover her face, and you pull your hand from hers to frantically wave them in front of you.

“No no! Don’t misunderstand me! I’d love to, oh my God there’s nothing I’d enjoy more it’s just that-”

“Just that what?”

“You’re an archon?”

Furina frowns.

“What does that have to do with anything? I’m asking you to join me as a friend, not as an Archon.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Oh.”

You know of your less than extraordinary appearance, and the simplicity of your life. You know that imagining anything more with an Archon is a fantasy so baffling that it even embarrasses you.

But you still can’t fight the disappointment resonating in your chest at the stupid word “Friend”.

Furina doesn’t seem to notice your deflation, instead probing you for an answer. Her hand reaching up to hold your arm, tugging you closer to her.

There’s a hopeful, cheeky look in her eye that you think could persuade even the most hellish of Demons to stand down.

“Well? You’ll join me?”

You sigh, and try to throw on a smile.

You feel like a puppet, your grin has to be ugly, repulsive, even so, you maintain it with cracked continuity.

“Sure.”

—

What does one wear to a date visit with an Archon?

You hate everything you own.

You almost rip your nails off in frustration after the fourth attempt to dress yourself fails.

This is terrible, everything is terrible.

Archons why do you own such ugly clothes!

You hear a knock at your door, and you jump, lifting your head to see Chiori staring at you, her unwavering gaze filtered with confusion.

“Chiori?” You ask, trying to hide the mess of your room.

Or well, her room, saying you were technically leaching off of her house until you could save up enough money to move.

She raises an eyebrow, a silent question of your antics, and you sigh.

“I have nothing to wear.”

“Hm.” Chiori responds, her lip going between her teeth as she takes in the mess of your clothing.

“And since when do you care what you wear?”

You scoff, offended.

“I always care!”

“Right…”

—

You think Chiori was sent by Celestia.

No really, you do.

Especially now when you’re twirling infront of your mirror, admiring her artistry on your body.

“It’s beautiful Chirori.” You whisper, your finger tracing the delicate stitching, enamoured by the sheer amount of detail on your gown.

“It’s hardly my best.” She replies, batting your hand away to finish the seam, “But all my other work is being used for the Fashion festival.”

You grin.

“I get the leftovers then.” You say cheekily, daring to wink at her.

Chiori shakes her head, “You get what I feel is right for you, and this…” She gestures to your dress, “Does look beautiful on you.”

Thank you Celestia you repeat in your head, Thank you for finally giving me a break.

—

You meet Furina at the Palais Mermonia.

She spots you as you walk in, and beckons you to a room across the hall.

Tiny Melusines greet you, and you smile at them, reaching down to pat their little heads.

Furina stills as she takes you in, fully looking at you.

“You look different.” She states, and you stop your movements entirely.

“You’re dressed…” Furina trails off, and your face warms.

“Nicely?” You finish, a teasing smile on your lips, “For a change?”

She shakes her head.

“You always look nice, it’s just jarring to see you wear something so well fitting.”

Her eyes trail along your figure, and you flush, your mind unable to comprehend your compliment.

Furina suddenly pulls herself out of her trance and smiles, putting out a hand for you to take.

“Never-mind that now!” She beams, “Desert time! Come, come!”

And you’re alone with Furina, your hand in hers.

She leads you over to a table adorned with confectionery to last over a hundred life times.

“Do you drink tea? Or would you rather Fonta?” She asks, turning her head to glance at you, and you rip your eyes away from your conjoined hands.

“Uh, tea, tea is good.”

Lady Furina looks at you, her eyebrow raised, “Alright, sugar?”

“Huh!!?”

“Sugar? As in, do you want sugar?”

“Oh! Yes of course!”

You pause, and Furina continues to look at you.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Are you taking sugar?”

Dear God, how are you so pathetic?

“Yes please.” You say silently, embarrassment morphing your face, forcing your head to fall to look at the floor.

Furina sets your tea in front of you, before pulling a chair over to sit next to you.

She watches the way your body seems to shrink in on itself, you hand fiddling with the loose fabric of your gown.

You nervous, and Furina scowls.

She doesn’t like this.

“What’s going on hm?” She asks plainly, and you restrain yourself from jumping at her forwardness.

“I-I’m sorry?” You attempt to delay, taking a sip of your tea, burning your mouth.

“You seem..off.” Furina says, her voice slightly drawn out, a frown on her features. “Have I done something?”

“What? No! Absolutely not you haven’t done anything…” You stammer out, a fake laugh breaking the barriers of your teeth as you try to compose yourself.

“Then why-”

Your eyes dart around the table, choosing to make eye contact with the bread than with her.

“It’s just a lot like wow I’m having tea with a God!”

Furina stirs her tea slowly, her eyebrows furrowed.

“I thought we were past this?”

“Sorry?”

“You seeing me as a God?”

You blink, and Furina takes a sip of her tea.

“You..You are a God though, you’re my God?”

Furina thinks the tea turns sour in her mouth.

“Technically, I suppose so, but I believe us to be friends?” She sets her cup down, and looks at you, her cheeks slightly red. “Am I mistaken?”

You clamour to explain yourself, your arms reaching out as if trying to slow time, ignoring the painful tug of your heart at that stupid word again.

“N-No of course we’re friends!” You stammer, “It’s just…Well I-”

“Then there’s no reason for you to be nervous.”

You nod.

And then something happens.

Something switches.

And suddenly Furina isn’t merely looking at you,

She examining you.

“Unless.” She starts, and you feel a truly dreadful sinking feeling within your chest.

“Unless there’s..Something else bothering you?”

And every facial expression you display is analysed before you, every twitch of your eyebrow, the way your eyes widen and the way you seem to stop breathing.

Furina leans forward, an emotion so humanly desperate flickering across her face.

An emotion she is yet to understand.

Your lips part and you truly do not know what to say.

It’s foolish, to ever consider yourself worthy to share a reciprocated love with your God you remind yourself bitterly.

You’re confused, anguished, disheartened by her referral to you as a friend and yet, you do not know what to say.

So you clear your throat.

And breathe in.

“I do not know what you mean Lady Furina.” You whisper, and it’s wrong, wrong, wrong.

And Lady Furina waits only a sheer second, before she’s leaning back in her chair and raising her head.

Somethings off.

“Then let’s us drink together as friends.”

You could swear then, that Lady Furina looked human.

You would stand trial on the fact that you saw her deflate with disappointment in the most mortal like way. You’d swear an oath.

But then you blink and the Hydro Archon blinks back.

And you’re sure you were mistaken.

—

There’s rumours in Fontaine.

There’s rumours everywhere, this isn’t a new concept to you.

But this is different, this rumour makes your blood freeze in your veins.

You heard it after you walked home from the boutique, a group of local Poisson men whispering under their breath.

“Lady Furina isn’t Fontaine’s Archon.”

You pause, turning your head as subtly as you could, creeping closer as to listen to their words.

You’re not a silent stalker and so they see you immediately.

They glare at you as they leave and you’re left confused as they made their way back to Poisson.

The next you hear of them, they’re dead.

Dissolved in the rising water.

You throw up when you see their faces in the paper, along with the heading “Fontaine’s Archon Fails Her People.”

You have faith.

You have faith.

You have faith.

—

Your faith dies with your Archon on the day of her trial.

You don’t go, you never go to trials.

But you know the happenings as if you were there to witness.

You find yourself running towards the Opera Epiclese, tripping over your own feet when the words “Death Penalty” reach your ears.

It’s silent.

Oh so silent.

And then the rain starts, and the tides grow.

And you can’t make it to the staircase of the Epiclese due to the water filling your lungs.

You’re drowning.

Screaming out bubbles of prayers to an Archon that isn’t yours.

Betrayal wrecks through your body and you’re drowning.

You’re drowning.

You’re drowning.

You’re drowning.

—

Furina cries on her watery throne.

Mourning the loss of her people, her home, her facade.

She thinks of you, briefly, thinks of your face, your clothes, your eyes.

Letting herself smile gently, she allows her tears to wash away her role.

It was nice to play a God.

If only she could save them.

—

.

.

.

.

You’re nervous.

You keep pacing back and fourth, pathetically trying to figure out a way in which you can knock on the door of Furina’s house, and speak with her like humans.

After the flood, you found yourself bed bound, your lips tainted blue and breath engulfing you so vigorously that you coughed until your eyes stung red.

The man who saved you kissed your hand when you woke up, crying out that he thought you wouldn’t make it.

You smile at him and thank him.

“I owe you my life.” You had whispered.

Lady Furina was no longer Fontaines Archon.

Gone into a state like hiding from the public, terrified of their outrage.

The nurse that cared for you, informed you of as much, recounting how the Iudex Neuvillette had saved Fontaine, saved you.

And you cried when she left you, tucked up in a hospital bed, weeping over the unknown.

You can’t face her. You conclude.

Not because you didn’t want to but because you had absolutely no idea how to begin.

Would she still regard you with such kindness despite you knowing everything?

How do you convey how you feel for her, when you truly do not know who she even is?

You heart sinks to your stomach and you walk away, hands dropping to your sides. Forcing yourself to move on, and to let fate guide you as far away from Fontaine as it could lead.

You hear a door open, but don’t make the connection until you hear your name being called from behind.

“Y/N!”

You freeze, glancing over your shoulder timidly, staring towards the very God woman you had grown so fond of.

Staring at you humbly on her doorstep.

“Lady-Miss Furina.” You reply, your hands trembling and voice shaking, turning to face her fully.

Her cheeks were flushed as though she made her way to the door in a hurry, eyes narrowed and yet you could not see a trace of annoyance in the depths of her pupils.

“You-” She starts, breathless as if realising that her action of following you would lead to confrontation for the first time, “I saw you.” She pointed up to her arched windows and your face flushes, mortified.

Of course she had.

You say nothing, trying to think of an excuse, anything to dissipate the tension you feel in your bones.

“…You weren’t going to come in?” She questions, her voice small, unbefitting for a woman who use to bellow to the masses with the unfiltered confidence of a Deity.

And you stare, and stare and stare . Your eyes moving over her face, her attire, the stupid bow on her hat.

You’re utterly speechless, profoundly so.

Unable to say anything of value to the woman in which you swore that you-

Furina sighs, her shoulders dropping, hat slipping forward on her head.

Taking your silence for resentment, she accepts your unfettered anger as atonement for her sins.

“I see.” She mumbles plainly, turning to go back inside her house.

And it’s said with such bitter regret and vile disappointment that you find words spilling from the confines of your lips, desperate to call her back.

“I quit.” You frantically say, voice meek.

And Furina stops so you continue.

“Working for Chiori.” You clarify, taking a step forward.

The sun appears to intrude on your conversation, the early morning light presenting itself from behind the brazen buildings of Fontaine, eager to listen.

It makes her complexion golden, the blue strands of her hair, now short, appearing to glow in its wake.

Furina opens her mouth, then closes it, shaking her head defiantly before he’s facing you again, and you’re so close yet so far.

“I needed a change.” You whisper, and she appears to lean closer to hear you, to read the way the words fall from your lips.

You don’t know why this is the first thing you wish to discuss with Furina.

There’s countless other things you could spew, the mirage of questions you have resting in the back of your throat, the confused, recount of events, yet you chose to say none of it for sake of talking about yourself.

You’re selfish, perhaps cruel, but God you just wanted to talk to her.

Furina looks at you, her eyes wide, the sun catches the blue and draws out the sparkle as she looks at you. You drown.

“I’m…I’m glad.” She whispers, “You hated it there.”

“I did.”

You step towards her, keeping your hands still, resting at your sides limp.

“You-” You start, clearing your voice, terrified to overstep, “I mean- Did you hate being an Archon?”

Furina doesn’t move, her cheeks painted rouge with the mention of her role.

Then slowly, subtly, she nods, once up and once down. You almost miss it.

You smile, your eyes crinkling trying to express your endless empathy through one look.

“Then I’m glad you stepped down.”

And Furina wants to kiss you.

She feels it in her mortal soul, amid the beautifully soft way you voice your smile, the desire to be human with you and to make you hers.

She breathes and you watch.

“I’ll miss your silly clothes.” Furina sighs, and you giggle.

“I still wear my silly clothes.” You bite back, and she shakes her head before moving a finger along the underside of your jaw.

“You’re beautiful.” She says, and you take her role of silence, stunned.

Furina lifts her hand, and places it on your cheek, looking down avoiding your eye. “And so boundlessly fascinating.”

“I can’t quite explain it I just-”

You cut her off when you kiss her.

Breathing in her confession and replacing it with your own.

Two mortal souls intertwined as one on her doorstep.

She responds by pulling you closer, trailing her hand to the back of your head and smiling against your lips.

You’re not a seamstress and she’s not an Archon and yet, in this moment that’s okay.

Everything is okay.

feel free to leave a request!

Masterlist <3

artwork credits

A/N- when i say i have been wanting to write this for MONTHS i mean it- i am just so BOUNDLESSLY sick of wlw fics being fetishised and the lack of like a good wlw comfort fic in any character x reader was bothering me ! so thank u to anyone who gives this a try and reads it ! i appreciate you so so so much !!!

ALSO when i say the reader’s fashion is strange or unflattering I HAVE BEEN OBSESSED with insane 19th century dresses so i made a collection of outfits PSA when i say she (the readers) fashion is questionable I MEAN IT <3 i imagine my lovely little failed seamstress makes her own clothes from time to time bc although she’s not good at her job, she still enjoys being creative

if ur interested i made a post of her outfits here :)

thank u so so so much for reading i love u i love u i love u

#furina #furina x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #nuevillette x reader #genshin smut #genshin fluff #hurt comfort #hydro archon #wlw post #furina x female reader #AHHH

[small-z24]

One-Shot: Gentle Shadows

Summary:

After getting injured during a mission, Y/N is confined to bed rest in the House of Wind. Azriel, determined to help her heal, bends over backwards to ensure her comfort and recovery. As he cares for her, their bond grows stronger, and Y/N realizes just how much she means to him. Together, they navigate her recovery, finding love and strength in each other's presence.

Word Count: 867

Warnings: This story includes scenes of injury and recovery, as well as moments of emotional vulnerability. There are also mentions of mission-related violence and mild language. Please read with caution if any of these topics are sensitive for you.

Y/N lay on the soft bed in the House of Wind, her leg bandaged and elevated on a stack of pillows. The mission had been successful, but she had taken a nasty fall during the retreat, injuring her leg. The healers had assured her it was nothing too serious, but she needed to rest and take it easy for a while.

Azriel entered the room quietly, a tray of food in his hands. His shadows, always a comforting presence, hovered around him. He placed the tray on the bedside table and gave her a gentle smile.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.

"Better," Y/N replied, returning his smile. "Just a bit sore."

Azriel nodded, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "You need to rest. The healers said you should take it easy for a few days."

Y/N sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude. "I know. I just hate being stuck in bed."

Azriel’s eyes softened with understanding. "I know it's hard, but you need to heal. And I'm here to help with anything you need."

Y/N felt a warm surge of affection for him. "Thank you, Azriel. You've already done so much."

He shook his head. "It's the least I can do. You risked your life out there. Taking care of you is the least I can do."

She reached out, taking his hand in hers. "I appreciate it more than you know."

Azriel squeezed her hand gently, his eyes filled with warmth. "You're strong, Y/N. But it's okay to let others take care of you sometimes."

She nodded, her heart swelling with gratitude. "I know. And I'm lucky to have you."

Azriel leaned closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "You mean a lot to me, Y/N. I'll always be here for you."

Her heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his gaze. "You mean a lot to me too, Azriel."

They shared a quiet moment, the bond between them growing stronger. Finally, Azriel stood up and gestured to the tray of food. "I brought you something to eat. You need to keep your strength up."

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. "Thank you. It looks delicious."

As she began to eat, Azriel busied himself around the room, fluffing her pillows, adjusting the blankets, and making sure she was comfortable. His attentiveness was both touching and slightly amusing.

"You know, you don't have to do all of this," Y/N said, a hint of laughter in her voice.

Azriel looked at her, a playful smile on his lips. "I want to. Besides, it's not every day I get to play nurse."

She laughed softly, the sound filling the room with warmth. "You're doing a great job."

As the evening wore on, Azriel stayed by her side, reading to her from one of her favorite books. His voice was soothing, and she found herself relaxing more than she had in days.

"You're really good at this," she said, her eyes growing heavy.

"At what?" he asked, glancing up from the book.

"Taking care of me," she replied, her voice soft with gratitude.

Azriel smiled, his eyes twinkling. "It's easy when it's you."

As sleep began to claim her, Y/N reached out and took his hand again. "Thank you, Azriel. For everything."

He squeezed her hand gently, his voice a tender whisper. "Always, Y/N. Sweet dreams."

As she drifted off to sleep, Y/N felt a deep sense of contentment. She was surrounded by love and care, and she knew that with Azriel by her side, she could face anything.

And as Azriel watched over her, his shadows wrapping around them both protectively, he knew that there was nowhere else he would rather be. Taking care of Y/N was not a burden—it was a privilege, one he cherished more than anything.

Over the next few days, Azriel continued to care for Y/N with unwavering dedication. He brought her meals, helped her with her exercises, and even entertained her with stories of his past missions. His presence was a constant source of comfort and strength.

One afternoon, as they sat together on the balcony, enjoying the warm sunlight, Y/N looked at him with a smile. "You know, you make a pretty good nurse."

Azriel chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "I'll take that as a compliment."

She reached out and took his hand, her expression serious. "It is. You've been amazing, Azriel. I don't know what I would have done without you."

He squeezed her hand gently, his eyes filled with warmth. "I'll always be here for you, Y/N. No matter what."

Her heart swelled with love and gratitude. "And I'll always be here for you."

As they sat there, hand in hand, the bond between them grew even stronger. They knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, united by their love and the strength they found in each other.

And as the sun set over Velaris, casting a golden glow over the city, Y/N and Azriel knew that their hearts had found their true home—in each other.

#ACOTAR #A Court of Thorns and Roses #Azriel x Reader #Azriel #Y/N #Injury #Recovery #Fluff #Romance #Emotional Support #Comfort #Healing #Night Court #SJM Fanfiction #Sarah J Maas #One-Shot #Velaris #House of Wind #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #fantasy romance

[missjadesfics]

Are you jealous, Sanji?

Sanji x Reader request: Yes gif credits: @goodsirs divider credits: @rookthornesartistry @cafekitsune Summary: Sanji decides to make his feelings for Y/n known after Zoro openly flirts with her in front of him. Unknown to him, Y/n has feelings for him too. Warnings: None, just Sanji being a jelly man, make-out session, heartwarming stuff; Sanji, I guess, is a warning in himself. Word Count: 1,5k Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece or its characters, nor do I claim them as my own. Comments, likes and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx

Y/n sat with the children, listening to Usopp tell them how he helped defeat the fishmen with his slingshot. Making gestures with his body as he spoke word for word. Y/n put a hand to her mouth to stop herself from laughing when he fell backwards, as she ran over to help him up. Sanji poured everyone a bowl of his stew, and each villager thanked him gratefully. Sanji smiled and nodded as he looked at Y/n, his eyes meeting hers. With a locked gaze, she waved at him as she danced with the children, making Snaji chuckle lightly; he saw Zoro come up with his empty bowl as he raised a brow. “Enjoyed it that much, did you? Not too bad for a waiter, eh?” he laughed, pouring some more stew into his bowl. Zoro made a slight smile. “I’m just hungry, and this is the only available food. Doesn’t mean anything,” he nodded to Sanji as the cook grinned, watching Zoro walk away. “Whatever you say,” Sanji said to himself as he grabbed a bowl for himself and Y/n; making his way over, Y/n fell to the ground in a heap, the children climbing on top of her and burying her underneath them. “Hey, kids, do you mind if I give the pretty lady something to eat? I promise she can play with you later.” 

Sanji asked the kids, and they gradually revealed that Y/n was lying on the ground, laughing lightly as they all ran to join Usopp and Luffy in playing with them. Y/n sighed, sitting beside Sanji “ I forgot just how much energy children have”, she said, out of breath. Sanji handed her one of the bowls with a chuckle. “You kept up well with them, darling. However, I think Usopp and Luffy could possibly overthrow you quite easily,” Y/n smiled. “And I wouldn’t have a problem with that; they are both big children at heart.” She ate Sanji’s stew, closed her eyes, and moaned in delight. “This is amazing, Sanji. If only Zeff were here to try this. You’ve come a long way as a chef,” she complimented. Sanji blushed lightly at her compliment. “Yeah, if the old man ever develops quality taste buds, that is”, he made the joke Y/n gasped, shoving Sanji playfully. “Sanji! You are terrible,” she laughed at her friend’s joke. 

While Sanji was cleaning the dishes from the festivities, he saw Y/n come over to help him. “Darling, you don’t have to help; I can handle this” he looked over his shoulder Y/n put her hands on her hips. Sanji laughed, resuming cleaning the dishes and shaking his head. “The day I find out how to get you to listen to me-” he began when Y/n cut him off. “Which will be never”, she finished while helping him clean the bowls, handling the work in a comfortable silence. “You know I don’t mind helping you, Sanji. I’ve gotten used to it after all our time working for Zeff together. Besides, I like you, and you were the only cook I could stand. A plus, too, you are handsome and having a handsome cook and friend is a good thing,” she giggled. Sanji raised a brow, and a smug look appeared on his face. “Oh, you think I’m handsome, love. Tell me, is there anything else about me that’s, let’s say, a benefit?” he questioned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Y/n hummed in response as she cleaned the last bowl and wiped her hands with a cloth. Sanji mirrored her as he waited for her response. “Depends on what you count as benefits, really”, she teased, tapping his shoulder and kissing his cheek. Looking over her shoulder at him while she walked away, Sanji’s heart raced, smiling. ‘She thinks I’m handsome,’ he thought as he stacked the bowls neatly.

Y/n stood with Nami, watching Luffy stretch his body and make the children laugh; the girls smiled at their friend having fun. “So, am I wrong to assume something is happening between you and Sanji?” Nami wriggled her brows with a cheeky grin Y/n blushed, shaking her head. “Oh, Sanji doesn’t see me that way; we’ve known each other since we were kids. Besides, I don’t want to ruin our friendship; it’s too special to me,” Y/n explained to Nami, who frowned. “I don’t know; you both seem too oblivious to each other’s looks or little compliments. I mean, he calls you darling, love, sweetheart, or any kind of affectionate nickname, and you don’t think he means something behind it?” Nami asked Y/n; her eyes drifted over to Sanji, taking in a breath. “He’s always been charming like that; he’s a romantic and loves making women feel special and adored. Even if it’s only for a day,” she smiled while watching Sanji sip his drink and talk to Zoro as they walked over to Y/n and Nami. “Oh my god, he’s coming over” Y/n hid in Nami’s shoulder; the orange-haired girl laughed. “Oh, you have feelings for him; it’s adorable”, she hugged her friend as Y/n’s muffled voice said, “I hate you.” 

“Well, ladies, you look pretty this evening, Y/n; green suits you. I think it’s your new colour,” Zoro winked Y/n blushed, giggling. “Thank you, Zoro. Are you subtly suggesting something?” She asked him, sipping her water. Zoro tilted his head. “Well, normally, I wouldn’t allow it, but I can make an expectation just for you, honey. We’d look good together.” He smirked Y/n’s eyes and gazed at Sanji, his hand clenched tightly, and his eyes burned as he stared at Zoro. “I think it’s getting late. Maybe we should all get some sleep. It’s been a long day” Y/n and Nami nodded in agreement. “Yeah, good idea, see you in the morning”, Nami shouted as she walked away. Zoro sighed. “Yeah, sleep sounds good right about now. Good night, Y/n; sleep well, honey. If you need a bunk buddy, you know where I am.” he winked. Sanji’s jaw clenched, wrapping an arm around Y/n’s shoulders. “Yeah, whatever” he pulled Y/n away, his other hand tucked in his pocket, and they walked back to their sleeping huts. 

“Sanji, is everything okay? You seem different,” Y/n asked softly, her hand on his shoulder. Sanji laid his head on the door of his hut, opened it and pulled her inside. “Sanji”, Y/n gasped lightly before she was pushed to the wall, caged between Sanji’s hands on either side of her head. Breathing heavily, Sanji stared into her eyes. “Can I tell you something?” He whispered as he leaned in slightly Y/n nodded her head wordlessly. “I have held back for so long with my feelings. The thought of rejection always plagued my mind, but I would regret it if I didn’t say something. I love everything about you: the way you smile, your blush, your eyes shine, your laugh and how you always have been there beside me. You have given me so much to admire and appreciate. I never realised how much one person can make you feel inspired and loved, my darling. I was told once that I should find someone who isn’t afraid of the word forever. And I am willing to spend forever with you if it means I share every moment with you, awake or in our dreams while we sleep. You have been the only girl I’ve loved and thought about since I understood what it means to cherish someone special. Y/n, I love you.” Sanji cupped her face, his head pressed to hers gently. Y/n’s eyes closed, and she had a smile on her lips. “You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed about hearing you say those last four words to me”, she admitted, looking into his eyes. “I love you too, Sanji. I’ve been too afraid to ruin our friendship at the risk of losing you. There is no one else but you; it’s always been you” She pressed her lips to his.

Both held on to each other like they were their only life source. Sanji’s arms wrapped around Y/n’s waist, securely pulling her close, carrying her over to the table, and sitting her on top gently. “How could I not see it? You were practically telling me,” Sanji murmured, making Y/n laugh lightly. “Oh, sweet Sanji, I forgive you” Y/n threaded her fingers through his hair, brushing her nose with his. “Also, we should probably thank Zoro for this.” She motioned between them. Sanji narrowed his eyes. “Don’t say his name”, he breathed, kissing her again, this time with a little more force; a moan escaped her lips. Sanji kissed her neck, and Y/n laughed. “Are you jealous, Sanji?” she moaned, feeling Sanji bite her neck softly. “Well, can you blame me?” His voice mumbled Y/n held onto his shoulders for support. “Well, two things; one, you don't have to be jealous of any man. And two, I’m tired. Can we just go to sleep?” she whined softly. Sanji chuckled, pulling her into his arms and carrying her to his bed. “Of course, darling, I’ll make up for lost time tomorrow” he kissed her lips gently before laying beside her, pulling a blanket over them Y/n tucked her head in Sanji’s chest, falling asleep instantly. 

Sanji kissed Y/n’s head lightly, whispering, “Good night, darling.”

#sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #one piece #opla #missjadesfics #my fic #taz skylar

[blissfullsvn]

zomnextdoor

boynextdoor x reader, zombie apocalypse!au, 2.6k (0.4k–0.5k each), fluff/angst

warnings: zombies (surprising), violence (towards the zombies; one depiction of bashing a zombie in the head), implied major character death

a/n: in light of bnd's 1st anniv, the new what?door! ep coming soon, & the sudden influx of 좀넥도 content on k-onedoor twt, i hereby present my brainrot to you. enjoy!

p.s. some scenarios are untagged bcs they're not rly fluff... but also not angst...

masterlist

sungho

archer!sungho x reader, 0.4k

sungho is at archery practice when he hears it; the screams around the school, so incredibly raw that he knows they'll echo in his mind again and again, long after today.

he finds out the reason just a few moments later, far sooner than he can properly digest the disconcerting noises. seeing the glass doors crash and break into a million pieces is a sight, but the true sight comes a second later, when the cause of the destruction hurtles towards them.

and he freezes. it's just for a beat, but a beat too long. he sees the exact movements of the rotten fingers reaching for him, so unmistakable it's as if he's viewing it in slow-motion, then something in him finally clicks. he instantly ducks down, which happens the same time he feels something tug at his wrist, but his scream doesn't get to escape his throat when he hears yours.

“sungho sunbae!” you yell as you maneuver around the onslaught of rotting bodies. you're dragging him towards the staircase leading to the second level of your practice area, because archers will always have the upper hand from longer distances. “what the hell are you doing?”

it's an immediate reality check. he looks around, and it's chaos; there are zombies flowing in from every exit, screams and shouts being heard from within and outside the room, and the distinct sound of arrows being shot. he looks back to you, who's running in front of him and pulling him along to keep him safe. 

you're right. what is he doing? everyone knows that as an archer, agility is one of the essentials, but he had nearly lost himself from a moment of hesitance. he feels even more embarrassed that you, who has always claimed to be his super fan, is saving his ass literally single-handedly by using the back of your bow to shove the zombies away because your other hand is wrapped around his wrist.

at the realisation, he grips his own bow tighter in his hands and promptly turns around despite your protests.

“take care of my back. i’ll handle this,” he says as he walks backwards, aiming his bow at the herd.

riwoo

riwoo x reader, 0.4k, angst

warning: implied major character death

riwoo prides himself in staying calm, even in the most extreme situations. but somehow, it shocks even himself that this statement still rings true in a national crisis.

when he hears screams so loud they burst through the music blasting in their dance practice, he doesn't hide the raise of his eyebrows. however, he doesn't mention anything, considering none of his members seem affected.

when the noise doesn't cease, instead growing by the second, he raises a hand to signal a pause in their practice. one of the members runs to turn off the music, and the immediate juxtaposition that occurs is more than unsettling. with the room abruptly falling into pin-drop silence, the flood of screams rattling the walls is even more prominent. that's when the dancers start to grow wary.

despite this, riwoo is calm. he's confused, but not frantic. even when the doors of the practice room burst open and you stagger inside in terrified hurry, he's calm. even when he notices the red patch of fabric on your arm that you're clutching tightly, he's calm. even when you're trudging towards him with a weird gait, he’s calm. even when he's gesturing to the rest of the members to leave the room, knowing he'll be left alone with you, he's calm.

it's weird, he thinks as he watches all of his members run for their lives before his eyes fall back to yours, noting the way the recognition in them is flickering. it’s weird how, instead of following his team, he’s reaching out to thumb at your tears, which only prompts more to flow down.

he thinks so again as he wraps his arms around you, tightening his hold like it's the last time he'll ever get to do this. with you in his arms, he can clearly feel the unusual twitches from your body, and yet he's still calm.

when you cup riwoo’s face with shaky hands, scanning his face as if to engrave it in your memory, he only offers the warmest smile he can. he tries to do the same; to capture this moment to the fullest. so when he sees the exact moment your eyes turn unfamiliar, he lets go of himself as well.

jaehyun

football player!jaehyun x reader, 0.4k, fluff

if someone told jaehyun that within just a few minutes, he would receive a confession from his nine-month crush before his football match and immediately get thrown into a life or death situation, he'd laugh at them for saying nonsense.

but that's exactly what happened.

“wait, did i hear that correctly?” jaehyun is bewildered, eyes nearly popping out of his sockets. “you… like me?”

you twiddle with your fingers and nod slowly. like this, you look even cuter than usual, and jaehyun is practically melting; it takes everything in him to not squeeze your cheeks. looking at his round eyes that are even rounder from the shock, you ask timidly, “are you going to reject me?”

“reject?!” it comes off louder than intended, but it shows just how much he's in disbelief. “how could i ever reject you?” he lets out softly, directly reflecting the expression on his face.

the way you brighten up immediately is a sight to behold, one jaehyun would like to keep dear to himself forever. this moment is unfortunately cut short when he hears screams from the bleachers.

jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “what? have the others gone out already?” he peeks out of the locker rooms.

at first, he's confused. there's no one on the field, but the screams are increasing by the second. everyone in the audience is scurrying frantically, running and pushing past one another. despite his own apprehension, he senses your tenseness behind him and quickly cracks a joke to ease you first. “don’t tell me they’re this terrified of a mickey mouse?” he laughs, turning to look at you, but his face drops immediately.

you're horrified. you're watching the scene as if you're seeing something from your nightmares come to life, and the look on your face makes him think that maybe you are. he feels himself grow antsy at your drastic reaction, and he understands why when he turns back to the field again.

if there's one thing in the world he’s more terrified of than ghosts, it's the possibility of an infectious virus outbreak that threatens humanity in all aspects.

and he's witnessing it happen right now.

for a football player, his legs are utterly useless now as he wobbles from his own weight. before he can drop to the ground fully, you move next to him and hoist him up.

“jaehyun,” you call, and he's surprised at the firmness of your tone, a complete contrast from the meekness before. “hold onto me tightly, okay?” you interlock your fingers together and take a step forward, standing in front of him. “we're gonna have to run.”

taesan

taesan x reader, 0.5k, fluff

both you and taesan are aware of how terrible this could go.

you're in the music room, surrounded by instruments of all sorts. in normal circumstances, these instruments would be as welcoming as a warm hug, offering the solace you needed after a long day. now, seeing them only makes uneasiness zap through your veins.

you don't have time to ponder your decision again when you hear the inhuman noises you’ve unfortunately grown familiar with. after ensuring the doors are locked well, you stride to your makeshift stage by the windows, where taesan is standing by the keyboard. he nods at the window, where a rope's hanging from the highest floor down to the ground, and you mimic the gesture before slinging your bass over your shoulders.

your fingers immediately find their positions on the instrument from muscle memory, which puts a flash of a smile on your face. you look at taesan, who's already looking at you, and he nods reassuringly.

he smiles, “shall we play for our biggest audience yet?”

for the briefest of moments, you hear a pin-drop silence that you haven't been able to experience since the outbreak. you shut your eyes, taking it in. then, before you realise, the bass is echoing throughout the speakers.

you look at taesan as you play, both to help your nerves from the crowd that you know will be right outside anytime soon, and to live this moment to the fullest. after all, you're not sure whether you'll be able to ever do this again.

taesan shares the same sentiment, because he's soon opening his mouth to yell out the lyrics of your go-to song, the one that's been yours ever since you joined the band together.

you flicker your eyes over to the herd that has arrived outside the room, banging at the doors and windows as they try to enter. despite the situation, looking at taesan and the way he's relishing the music puts a smile on your face, so much that even when you see cracks start to form in the doors, you don't feel an overwhelming sense of despair.

when you notice that the doors are bending more under the weight, you and taesan share a nod; the cue for him to step away from the keyboard and climb onto the rope behind you. it's the final part of the song, the bass solo, which is also nearing the final part of your plan.

the second you hit the last note, you unceremoniously swing the bass towards the door and jump into taesan's arms, just in time for the doors to break down.

leehan

taekwondo athlete!leehan x reader, 0.4k

warning: one depiction of bashing a zombie in the head

the peace of leehan’s nap gets shattered when he hears the thud of the door, immediately followed by irritating growls and a poorly muffled scream. he's ready to ignore it until he hears the cart of balls being pulled away and crashing into something, presumably the zombie itself, which has not only pierced his eardrums but also unveiled his hiding place to sleep in the gym’s storage room.

he sighs. dropping the open book covering his face, he stands up and adjusts the lollipop in his mouth before placing his hands in his pockets. he walks towards the opposite corner of the room, where the source of the disturbance finally comes into view.

you're cowering behind a stack of mats. despite the top of your head clearly peeking out, you don't dare to look at anything beyond the faux shield. he merely spares one glance at you before he turns to the problem itself. then, he notes that it's either the zombie has strength that's off the charts, or you're incredibly bad at pushing and aiming, because the cart is nowhere near the zombie and is by the wall instead. 

he shrugs off the observation when he sees the zombie staggering towards him, and he slowly takes a few steps back. then, in an action as swift as the wind, he twists his body in a semicircular motion and delivers a kick right to the zombie's head, effectively bashing it onto the floor—all the while keeping his hands in his pockets and the lollipop dangling over his lips.

you've since looked up from your hiding spot, and there's a newfound expression on your face. however, when you look back at the twitching body on the floor, the fear returns at once. 

leehan looks over to you, and in the most nonchalant tone, as if he hadn't just casually roundhouse-kicked a zombie, he says, “don't lure them in here. they're so loud.”

you can only offer a shaky nod, and then he’s walking back to his original position. but when he sees you stand up and stumble towards the door, he halts in his steps and turns to face you completely.

“didn’t you hear what i said? you'll lure them in if you open the door. just stay here.”

woonhak

woonhak x reader, 0.5k

you've never had a proper interaction with woonhak, but from the bits of information you've unwillingly gathered due to his popularity, your impression of him isn't the best. he's loud, boisterous, and sometimes just rowdy; you can't help but note him as this immature kid in your head.

but your prejudice has been completely shattered today.

when the signs of a virus outbreak first appeared in your school, starting with your classmate who had entered the class with a ghostly pale complexion and nosebleed, all you knew was you had to run. and that's all you've been doing for the past hour, burning your muscles and lungs without stopping to narrowly avoid the grasp of death.

until you found yourself tripping over a stack of tables, and your legs got trapped under all the tables that had toppled over you.

when you tried to pull your legs out, all it did was cause the tables to fall even more, making it harder for you to move at all. the noise had also attracted the zombies roaming endlessly, so when you saw silhouettes dashing towards the room after your futile attempts to get yourself up, you had already resigned yourself to your fate—the mangled jaws right before your eyes, to which you shut your eyes and braced yourself for the inevitable.

then you heard the groans from the herd in front of you, followed by the weight on your legs lessening and the crash of something across the room, and you immediately opened your eyes.

there, standing in front of you, is kim woonhak. he has a table in his hands, the flat surface facing him and the legs outwards, using it to hold back the herd before you with a wince.

you don't know how, but he manages to hold the table in one hand and reach out with his other hand to grab onto another table over your legs, hurling it across the room. 

you watch him do this for a few moments, until it finally clicks that the noise is too loud. you search around the room frantically for something—anything—you could do to help, and your eyes soon land on a baseball bat a short distance away.

“woonhak,” you call.

“yeah?” he grimaces, struggling to use the table as a shield when the crowd seems to grow by the second.

“are you good with a baseball bat?” you ask, holding up the weapon.

he turns to you for a split second, seeing the bat before he faces the front again. he instantly catches what you're insinuating, and his decision is a no-brainer.

“pass it,” he reaches out his hand without looking.

you're surprised, but you don't waste another second before giving it to him. almost immediately, he drops his makeshift shield, and what you see next completely repaints your image of him. by the time you're able to get yourself out, he has already cleared half of them. it seems you're constantly getting surprised today.

before he can pass out, you quickly tap on his shoulder and grab the bat from him without asking. “thanks a lot, woonhak. take a breather; i’ll take care of the rest.”

a/n: half of this was easy to write, and half was hell. guess which one was which

fyi, i wrote this with them all being high school students in mind, but you don't have to imagine them like this! except for woonhak ofc

anw, don't ask me why i wrote riwoo's part like that bcs i hv no idea either. it just felt right. so enjoy... hopefully...

© blissfullsvn 2024. All Rights Reserved.

#boynextdoor #sungho #riwoo #myung jaehyun #taesan #leehan #woonhak #boynextdoor x reader #fluff #angst #boynextdoor scenarios #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor drabbles #sungho x reader #riwoo x reader #jaehyun x reader #taesan x reader #leehan x reader #woonhak x reader #featured

[f1nalboys]

Could you do a Billy Loomis x Stu Macher x Reader oneshot that's just super kinky I'm just fienin for some billy and stu smut 🙏

MY RETURN TO POLY GHOSTFACEEEEEEEE!!!! anon thank u very much for this request (and dont worry, i got the other one!!!) and i super duper hope u like it!!! it did make me realize i havent written a praise focused fic in FOREVER so sorry if im a little rusty D:

Poly!Ghostface x GN!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1132

WARNINGS: nsfw, hair pulling, praise, creampie, begging, reader isn't gendered but does get called pretty and beautiful, billy likes to watch <3, established relationship, kinda proofread

Billy and Stu knew how to make you tick in every way. Stu was great at aggravating you just enough to get you to pay attention to him, easily earning your affection back in just a few words. Billy could break you down, build you up, and do it over and over again until it made your head swim. Being with them meant you were on edge, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

But then there were times, like now, where you didn’t have to worry about anything other than cumming.

“There you go, baby,” Stu’s voice is muffled despite him being right behind you, his lips at your ear, his breath hot against your sweaty skin. He’s moving so slowly, cock pushing deep inside you and dragging out at an agonizing pace. You want to yell at him, tell him to move faster, go harder, something, but the only thing that comes out is a weak whine. He laughs and you feel it vibrate against your back. “Aw, sweet little thing is tryin’ to tell us something, Billy.”

Your eyes open and you do your best to blink away the haze. Billy is in front of you on the bed, his hand slowly stroking his cock as he watches Stu fuck you. Your hands are on Stu’s knees, your own legs bent uncomfortably backwards so you were sitting in his lap. “You gotta use your words, Y/N.” Billy says smoothly, tilting his head, voice smug. “You want him to stop?”

“No!” You say quickly, nails digging into Stu’s skin, your eyes widening enough to earn a laugh from Billy. Your voice is hoarse, raw from your constant babbles of pleasure over the last hour. “More,” you say, wiggling your hips slightly, your head tilting forwards as a sharp gasp rips through you. “Please, need it.” Billy watches with a pleased smirk as you begin to take over for Stu, using your hands on his knees as leverage to push yourself up and down, sinking down onto his cock.

Stu groans at the feeling, his hips flexing slightly. “Fuck, Billy, man… they’re so fuckin’ tight.” His hands rest on your hips, mouth agape as he pants, watching his cock disappear inside you. “So sexy like this, so fucked out, aren’t you, baby?” He asks, his usual laugh cut off by a moan. “Y/N?” You don’t answer. Your eyes are closed, your breaths coming quick, focused solely on the building pleasure in your gut. You barely even register the bed shifting before you feel thick fingers tangle into your hair, tugging your head back up roughly. 

“Hey,” Billy says sharply, fingers still tugging at your hair. Your eyes are open now, head bent back enough to force you to look him in the eyes, and he watches you with a pleased grin. “Stu asked you a question. You better answer unless you want him to stop. And you don’t want that, do you?” He tsks, shaking his head mockingly, his free hand leaving his cock to touch you between your legs. You gasp sharply, tightening around Stu, causing him to dig into your hips to push you down onto his cock even more. Billy’s gaze is unwavering. “Feels like you don’t want that.”

“Way they’re tightening around me, fuck, they better not want me to stop. Not even sure I could pull out.” Stu teases, placing sloppy kisses against your jaw and down your neck to your shoulder. Your head was beginning to throb from where Billy was still gripping your hair but the thought of him letting go, replacing the pain and his fingers with a dull thud, seemed unbearable. “Too tight, you know that, Y/N? Too fuckin’ pretty, too. Fuck, I love you like this, you know that? So sweet.” 

“You’re gettin’ ‘em excited, Stu,” Billy grins, his hand moving in tangent with Stu’s thrusts. “Baby, you better tell Stu you don’t want him to stop or you won’t get to cum.” Billy’s voice is soft and he’s leaning in, pressing his forehead against yours. His cock is aching, untouched, but you know better than to do so without his go ahead. “C’mon, baby, you can do it. Beg Stu not to pull out so you can cum. God, you’re fucking perfect, you know that? I mean, shit, Stu; you ever met someone like ‘em? So perfect?” Stu answers with a grunt and a quick shake of his head, going harder. Billy hisses as his cock twitches. “Fuck, you can touch me after you cum, baby, doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Yes-”

“Always trying to get your hand on my dick,” Billy grins, his hand speeding up, the pleasure building in your stomach tripling in less than a second. “So fuckin’ cute, so dirty, aren’t you? Sexy fuckin’ thing, God, c’mon, start begging so we can reward you.” 

Billy almost sounds desperate, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it before, and his grip in your hair loosens as he kisses you. Stu’s pace increases, barely pulling you up off his cock before slamming up into you. He’s grunting with the force but he’s holding back and you can tell; he’s waiting for you to beg. 

“Please, fuck, please don’t stop,” you cry out inbetween messy kisses, your face growing hot as your stomach tightens. “F-fuck, I wanna cum, I swear, please let me cum! I need it, I need to touch you,” you say to Billy and he nips at your bottom lip, pleased, “And I need you to cum in me. Please!” You cry, tears burning at your eyes from holding onto the edge of your orgasm. You watch as Billy’s eyes flick back towards Stu, darkening slightly, before he meets your eyes again and nods. 

You cum hard, vision growing blurry at the edges as you let out a strangled cry. Billy and Stu don’t stop their movements, working together to make your orgasm last as long as it could. “H-holy fuck!” Stu grunts, your tight hole finally sending him over the edge. He cums, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you seated fully on his cock. “So fuckin’ perfect, there you go… take every drop, baby…” he coos softly, head resting on your shoulder as his hips flex, pumping everything he could into you. You let out a shaky breath, a weak hand pushing at Billy’s. He listens for once, grinning at how out of it you seem, and he dips his head towards you to give you a few kisses. “Happy anniversary, baby,” Billy whispers, brushing his nose along your cheek. You grin, worn out but pleased, your hand moving to rub against Billy’s cock. He sucks in a breath, looking down at his lap, before grinning. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #scream 1996 #scream #billy loomis #stu macher #poly!ghostface #poly ghostface #poly!ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface x y/n #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #slasher #slasher x reader #ghostface x reader

[alchemistc]

tastes like (he) might be the one

an: So this post made me feel some things and the drabble I started out underneath got wordy enough that I decided not to fully hijack the post.

Tommy is just now realizing has no idea how to prepare a meal.

Evan had told him where the spare key was and Tommy had wanted to do something nice for him but he is a forty year old man with NO concept of how to make a meal.

What do you put in a salad? Kale goes into the bowl and he finds Evan's cheese grater and a Romano wedge, but there's no bread around and Tommy eyes the bag of premade croutons in his pantry with unease before he calls it good.

The caprese is easy, he's made it a million times, a quick snack that reminds him of afternoons on his grandmother's back porch, drinking the thimble of espresso she'd allowed him while she spoke in her heavily accented voice.

He doesn't actually know how to tell Evan he's avoiding gluten without disappointing him, yet, (God he's down bad, the thought of Evan's bright smile faltering a bit like he's disappointed he hadn't thought to ask makes Tommy want to launch himself into the stratosphere) so he throws the pan of lasagne back in the oven on low and just... takes a deep breath.

Evan won't be back for at least another hour, though, and Tommy is fighting the itch to snoop, so he takes a quick glance at the supplies on hand and ends up whipping up the stracciatella recipe his mom had used to make him when he was sick. He's halfway through prepping it when he realizes he's fucking insane, but it's too late now.

The text hits his screen before he can contemplate hiding the evidence of the soup.

Be there in twenty.

So Tommy stirs, and rubs his suddenly sweaty hands on his thighs, and then he stares at the disaster he's made of the kitchen and starts sweeping things into the sink.

Evan, Eddie, everyone always thinks he's so cool, but the reality is that behind closed doors he's a fucking disaster and his head is a jumble of nerves. This is too much. Cohesively, it might make some semblance of sense in the range of 'this is all vaguely italian' but a minestrone would have been better, he just hadn't had the time. This is too much -- too much food, too much effort, too much like ripping open his chest and guiding Evan's hand to wrap around his pumping heart and squeeze.

The locks on the doors tumble open just as Tommy is drying the cutting board, and Evan presses in with a tired smile.

The smile goes wider at the sight of his table, laid out in some semblance of order Tommy doesn't remember, but it had made sense at the time.

Be cool, Kinard, Tommy thinks to himself, but he can't help but melt a little when Evan tosses his keys carelessly to the side board and then slides across the room, no unease in his face as he sidles up, hands curling around Tommy's hips, head tilted in the way Tommy absolutely knows is a flirt, now.

"Hey."

Tommy blinks. He's disarming, unreal, Tommy has known him for barely any time at all but he'd bend over backwards to make that smile stay on Evan's face forever.

"Hi."

Evan's thumbs are playing with his belt loops, and his grin dimples his cheeks, and suddenly he's slightly less alarmed that he'd cobbled together a disaster of a three (four?) course meal like a crazy person.

Tommy wants to hand him his spare key back. He also wants to grab his key ring and add the spare to it, full eye contact going while he tucks it in between the truck key and his own house key. He wants to bite Evan's neck, and tug him into his chest and never let go, he wants -

"Smells good in here. Did you make something? You didn't have to make anything, I would have -."

"I wanted to," he manages, around the blinding flare of Evan's smile.

Tommy is cool as a fucking cucumber. Evan presses his lips to the junction of Tommy's jaw, darts around him before Tommy can reciprocate. Grabs two wine glasses from a cabinet and when Tommy turns to look at the broad expanse of his back, Evan has his head ducked bashfully, and Tommy can see the edges of his grin, the swell of his cheek in profile.

At least he's not alone in this, Jesus.

Evan pours them wine, fingers curling around Tommy's. He stares at the meager offerings on display, and Tommy can see him ticking off serving utensils in his mind. He doesn't say a word about the monstrosity that is a kale and Romano salad (???), just dances around Tommy again, wine glass balanced in his hand, to grab some dressing from the fridge.

"Hey, there are oven mitts in that top drawer, there, can you grab the lasagne? It's gluten free, Chin mentioned something about you avoiding it?"

Tommy contemplates sinking to his knees right there in front of his sad sack salad. Why hadn't he looked for ingredients for the caprese first?

Instead he pulls the lasagne out, lays it out across the wicker hot pads he'd set out earlier. The moment it's securely on the table, Evan presses fully against his back, and Tommy wonders if he should have stopped to get flowers. Or condoms.

Both, probably.

"Did you make me soup?" he asks, lips pressed to the knob of Tommy's spine.

"From what I hear you've had a rough day. Soup always makes a rough day better." He wishes his wine glass was still in his hand, and not next to the oven where he'd left it. He twists to face Evan and Evan gives up zero ground, toe to toe and a delighted little gleam in his eye Tommy knows is going to get him in trouble one day.

"Hi," Evan says, again, and Tommy curls a hand around his hip and drags him half an inch closer.

#sorry you can't tell me tommy isn't secretly an overthinker #also sorry for the terrible BE lyric title but not actually sorry #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #911 fic

[wedielike]

Prompted by @eclecticexperthottub-blog: Oyei introduces Cher to Yoryak/the gym team

Read on AO3 or:

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather do this alone?”

Oyei looked up from the photograph in his hand, one that had lived in the office for as long as he could remember. It was a simple picture—him and Yoryak and their mom on the a beach somewhere. He couldn’t have been more than five years old there, but he remembered the trip. Yak had been barely old enough to speak but he’d babbled happily and tried to eat sand despite their mother’s attempts to stop him.

The picture had gone up in the office not long after and Oyei had left it on the desk even when he’d taken everything over. He wished she was around to make life easier, the way she’d always been able to.

He glanced over at Cher as Cher propped himself on his shoulder and gazed at the picture too.

“Why would I do it alone?” he asked finally, setting the photo back down on the desk and turning to gather Cher in his arms. He fit perfectly, snug and safe in a way the girls he’d tried to date never had. He could even drop a satisfying kiss to the top of his head and it didn’t feel like a lie when Cher raised his chin to look at him.

“Coming out can be hard,” Cher said slowly, arms circling around Oyei’s waist. “Not for me, I mean. My mother knew the second I popped out because I was so fabulous.”

“It’s true, you are,” Oyei agreed with a smile. He’d known the minute he’d seen Cher in that jewelry shop, propped on a stool, textbooks spread across the counter as if school was more important than selling necklaces. He still remembered the way Cher had looked at him, slightly skeptical, only momentarily lingering on the muscles in his arms. “And I’m not coming out. I’m just introducing you to Yak.”

“As your boyfriend,” Cher added, an eyebrow rising, and Oyei paused.

He supposed that was coming out of sorts. He wouldn’t be able to take it back. Maybe that was why he’d felt nervous all day, waiting for Yak to get home from school. Even Cher hanging around the gym hadn’t helped settle him, usually a fairly good distraction from his problems.

“I don’t want to do this without you,” Oyei said finally, pulling Cher’s hand to his lips and pressing a kiss along his knuckles. Cher rolled his eyes at the corny gesture, but he smiled, that little pursed smile he did when he was trying not to be amused by how dumb or horny and sweet Oyei was. “I don’t want to do anything without you.”

“We’re not attached at the hip,” Cher said, though their bodies would disagree with that as Oyei tugged him closer, holding him tight.

“Not yet.” If Oyei had his way, Cher would never leave his side. He just had to get through the hard part of telling Yak so they wouldn’t have to sneak around anymore. The sneaking had been fun, for a minute, but Cher deserved better than that. He deserved to be loved and taken care of and Oyei wanted everyone to know that he was the one doing it.

Leaning in, he tilted his head to the side, hopeful when Cher lifted his chin, accepting the kiss to come. But the rattle at the office door forced them apart, a quick jerk backwards, a knee-jerk reaction from Oyei that he didn’t like when Cher’s eyes cast aside.

“Hey!” Yoryak stepped into the office a second later, already in his workout clothes. “What are you doing in here?”

Oyei glanced at Cher, who seemed to have composed himself. The nerves were back in full-force as Yoryak glanced between them.

“Are you a new client?” Yak asked when no one said anything. Cher was just watching Oyei, and he knew he it was responsibility to say something. He could feel his heart beating in his chest even though he knew, he knew everything would probably be fine. Yak had never given any indication that he was homophobic, but there was always a chance. And the last thing he wanted was to lose the last bit of family he had.

“This is Cher,” Oyei said finally, reaching over to guide Cher closer. “I wanted you to meet him because—” He actually swallowed, a gulp that betrayed any coolness he had left. He was worried about how Yak might react, if he would no longer be the protective older brother. Yak just looked confused when he paused, glancing between them. Taking a breath, Oyei slipped his hand around Cher’s waist, and Cher’s gaze shot to him. “Because he’s my boyfriend.”

It felt good to say it out loud, even if his heart jumped into his throat as the words left his mouth, as he saw them penetrate Yak’s brain. He was glad to have Cher beside him, even if he said nothing and let Oyei take the lead. He had to. It was his brother after all. His little brother who he’d helped raise, defended him from bullies, and trained him to be a boxer.

“Oh,” Yak said after a minute, eyebrows up, not quite surprised, not quite confused. “Cool.”

“Cool?” Oyei repeated. That was all he got? Yak wasn’t exactly the type to be enthusiastic about his feelings, but surely there was something more than ‘cool.’

“Great?” Yak tried again, and beside him, Cher raised a hand to hide his smile, but Oyei wanted more than just cool. “Good for you? He’s very pretty.”

Oyei scoffed, more annoyed now than nervous. “Is that what you would say if I introduced you to a girl?”

“No. I’d say ‘good luck,’ but he looks like he can handle you.” Yak glanced at Cher, up and down, a satisfied jerk to his shoulders.

“You little asshole,” Oyei said, but he couldn’t be completely serious, too relieved at how well Yak was taking this. He didn’t seem to care at all.

“P’Yei,” Cher interrupted, a hand clasping in his, and that made Oyei pause, a flood of happiness washing over him as he glanced at Cher. Cher turned to Yak, though, giving him a quick wai. “It’s nice to actually meet you. And don’t worry, he’s not the one that needs to be handled.”

Oyei didn’t bother hiding his grin even as Yak’s eyebrows went up, almost impressed, a bit like he didn’t want to know.

“Cool,” Yak said again, as if he had no other words, smiling slightly. “So are we gonna train today or what?”

Oyei shouldn’t have been surprised that Yak took it so well, but he was still glad and relieved and happy as he nodded. “Yeah. Go get started on warm-ups. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Yak nodded, turning to Cher before he left. “If you could distract him for, like, ten minutes, I could get some bubble tea.”

“Hey,” Oyei called after him as he left, but Yak was already gone, and Oyei frowned as he turned back to Cher. “You’re not going to gang up on me.”

Cher smiled, rising on his toes, and Oyei took the opportunity to press a kiss to his cheek. “Of course not. You’re my boyfriend.”

“I am, aren’t I?” Oyei asked, hands reaching for Cher’s hips as they hit the desk. Reaching down, he lifted Cher up, and Cher didn’t complain as he landed on the desktop, arms circling his neck, that alluring slant to his gaze as he beckoned Oyei in closer.

He was and now Yak knew too. He’d tell the rest of the guys eventually, or maybe he’d just invite Cher to show up whenever he wanted and let them figure it out on their own.

For now, he took advantage of the empty office, Cher nestled in between his legs, his soft pouty lips calling to him as he leaned in. All that mattered was that Yak was cool with it (maybe too cool) and that he’d finally said it out loud. He’d been afraid, worried, nod sure what would happen, but as he pulled Cher’s chin up, he couldn’t help smiling. He couldn’t have asked for much more when it came to Yak, but when it came to Cher, there were so many more things he wanted to ask.

“What?” Cher asked, eyes half-closed, anticipating what was next, as Oyei paused, smiled.

“Nothing,” he answered, happiness swelling in his chest, and he closed the distance between them finally, and kissed him.

#wandee goodday #wandee goodday the series #oyeicher #cheroyei #my fics #drabbles #idk

[kitzatara]

Which aspect of Zatanna's power do you think is underutilized?

TBH almost every aspect of Zatanna’s power is underutilized. Consistently, all the time, always and forever. For starters every time Zatanna gets a significant power boost or realizes her true potential, it’s walked back, retconned, or just ignored a few months later without fail. Back when she left the Justice League in the detroit era after traversing the collective unconscious of all humanity and seeing “the godhead” it was revealed in the Spectre that it had been a trick by Wotan? Iirc he says it was an illusion he created with Zatara’s magic?

During JLA Black Baptism in the 90s? Early 2000s? She begins to lose her mind and transmutates the entire moon. The whole moon. Giving it wings, a giant eyeball, etc. a couple years later in the JLA run where she defeats Amazo the moon is headed for earth, Diana asks if she can stop it and she states she doesn’t have nearly that much power…. Despite the aforementioned ability to transmutate it. Even her defeat of Amazo she on panel states is red tornado’s victory despite her doing literally all the work.

In both JLD runs Zatanna is responsible for defeating the big bad’s of the series. Pralaya and the Upside Down Man respectively. (Technically Hecate too but) As soon as she defeated Pralaya and restored all of creation the damn continuity rebooted. Making it so it never happened. With the latest run, after she beat upside down man it’s revealed part of his power resides in her and potentially could lead to his return only for the death of the justice league event to completely scrap that plot line, restore the USDM and then nothing was ever done with that story again. (To date).

It literally happened this month where in Wonder Woman 9 Zatanna says she can’t help the super sons who’ve been turned into dogs by Circe because she states Circe is so powerful with magic going back to the gods despite literally having beaten and ubdone Circe’s magic in the past and also defeated gods in the aforementioned JLD runs.

The only really big one that hasn’t technically had a walk back is her 7 Soldier of Victory story and her defeat of Zor the reality warping time tailor, who she defeats by literally breaking the fourth wall and manipulating comic panels. However flashpoint happens right after that story. So for the New 52, it was like that story had never happened. It has since been referenced in the current rebirth continuity at least twice in the sideways comic and the knight terrors event of last year so we knownit is now canon. But it wasn’t for a couple years. And it’s a bitter sweet thing because while it hasn’t been retconned, it also is ignored and has not been expanded on. It’s never brought up how she can just casually reach past the fabric of her fictional universe and manipulate panels of the comics.

Reading all her stories you start to notice this frustrating pattern that is at this point almost a cycle. Zatanna starts off in a new story or continuity significantly weaker than previously shown, she gains a confidence boost and starts to come into her power, she then does a crazy mind bending powerful feat of magic. And then boom. Retcon, continuity shift, new event that erases the previous growth and lands her solidly back to square one.

like I mentioned in previous asks, Zatanna can do anything, not just because of her backwards magic, but she has the power to back it up. And she suffers not only from lack of creativity, and continuous attempts to nerf her so that she doesn’t outshine the more popular characters, but also from these continuous reboots and whatnot. And again power is not everything, her struggles to accept herself and grow into her confidence and deal with making mistakes is so fascinating and makes her victories all the more satisfying. But her power is literally disrespected at all levels. From scale, to the borderline fetishistic binding and gagging of her (despite doing magic without speaking multiple times in literally every continuity), and the constant resetting her back to square one.

it’s hard to pick one aspect of her powers that are underutilized because it’s all underutilized. And only in imaginative stories like 7 soldiers or JLD do we really get to see writers cut loose with her and their imagination, and they’re wonderful and so fun. I need DC to stop being afraid of letting her be an A-lister and treat her with the respect she deserves. Status quo be damned.

so yeah. Thanks for the ask!

#zatanna zatara #zatanna #dc comics #justice league dark #justice league #justice league of america #zor the time tailor #seven soldiers of victory #pralaya #Upside down man #Circe #hecate #justice league detroit #asks #ask #asks answered

[nomoreusername]

Two Secret Saviors

Pairing:Newt x female reader

Summary:After you unknowingly save give Newt a reason to stay, he ends up saving you just a few months later.

She saved me.

She saved me, and she doesn't even know it.

She was up early the day I planned to take my life. She had run with me through the Maze, where we talked basically all day.

I had asked for a sign the night before. I asked for a sign on whether or not to go through with it, and she just that. The fact that she was up at the same time as me told me everything that I needed to know.

It took a very short time for me to fall and an extremely long time to do something about it.

Still, I somehow did. I asked her to come out one night and look at the stars. So, right there on the watchtower, we had our first date.

Now we go there every Friday. It's always something to look forward to.

"Do you think we'll get to learn the constellations one day?"She sighed.

"Yeah. When we get out of here we can learn as many as we want,"I promised.

"Yeah. I just wish that we knew their names now,"She shrugged.

"We can make our own?"I suggested.

"I don't think we can just change science,"She tried to reason.

"Why? If we're stuck here in our own world there's nothing stopping us from,"I pointed out.

"Okay. Then you name the first one,"She urged.

"I will,"I agreed, sitting up to find one that felt right. Focusing only on the sky, I carefully observed them until I found a small cluster hidden amongst them almost covered by the wall. "Freedom,"I stated simply.

"Freedom? Why freedom?"She asked, sitting up as well and slightly leaning her head against me.

"Because they're the closest things here that have it. Just for now,"I explained.

"Freedom,"She quietly recited. "I like that."

"Now you look for one."

"I don't have to. I already found mine,"She whispered, keeping her gaze on me.

"I love you too,"I promised, kissing her temple and wrapping my arms around her. Not saying anything, she just hugged me back, giving me another small moment that made staying actually worth it.

♡ - - - ♡

Waking up early used to freak me out. It used to trick my mind into thinking I was going to attempt again.

Now though, it's not so bad. I'll just have a quick breakfast, grab my Runner's bag, and get ready to go in the Maze with my partner. Today, I got to be with Y/N which was always nice. We would get everything done that we could, report every last detail, and get ready to either eat or collapse from exhaustion. Both options are pretty good.

Stopping for lunch, I leaned against the wall as I finished my sandwich. Doing the same, we stayed there in complete and total calm silence as we put the sandwich bags back in our Runners pack and stretched for a moment to actually get back on track.

"Are you ready to go?"She asked after twisting her back.

"Yep,"I agreed, quickly stretching my other leg before jogging next to her. Because despite the job title a lot of it is just memorizing details. The actual running comes from when the Maze changes (an often occurrence), the walls are almost ready to close (an occasional occurrence), or there's a Griever out in the day (which we don't talk about).

As the only sound to be heard was our footsteps against the ground, everything suddenly just went too quiet. Every background noise just seemed to vanish. No birds, no crickets, no anything. Just silence.

"Something's off,"I whispered, putting my hand out to stop her from continuing. As she just gave me a strange look I told her to just stay while I peaked around the corner to find out just why everything was so off.

I also quickly found out why.

Because we were standing less than two feet away from a Griever. While it has its back turned, the second a Beetle Blade ratted us out it was over.

As I slowly crept backwards I noticed the red, glowing light on the walls. Focusing its attention on me, the second it got a clear view the Griever turned around.

Not bothering to think and fueling myself on straight adrenaline and the strange human want to live, I turned around and ran for it, grabbing Y/N's hand to take her with me. Starting to run beside me, she didn't even question it as she looked straight forward, turning a corner with me. Because she already knew what it meant. She wasn't dumb.

But surviving this isn't a question of being a dumb. It's how fast you can go and how fast your mind can think.

Hearing its screech fill the air as it got close and closer, when we were out of sight around a turn for barely a moment I shoved her against the wall with me. Covered by the vines, we stayed there, completely pressed against it, even as it rolled past us. Keeping my hand in hers, we just stood there, knowing that it's never really over with these things.

Even when the sun started going down, we only left to get to the Glade when the Runners watch told us we had half an hour left. Taking a breath, we just stepped out, staying close as the coast was officially clear. Not speaking the entire time, we just made it to the Glade. Still not greeting anyone like usual, I just went with her to her hut and laid down next to her on her hammock.

"You're a quick thinker, you know? Really quick,"She whispered.

"I was just trying to keep us alive,"I shrugged.

"I know that you don't like how others are faster than you are, and it's true. There are some people who are just barely able to be speedier, but they don't have the most important thing. They don't have a mind like yours. Nobody ever could, not even me,"She told me.

"I was just keeping us safe,"I reasoned. Sighing, she put her head on my chest. Laying my hand on her back, I rubbed her shoulder as I closed my eyes.

"You don't take credit for what you do. I don't know why. You have so many incredible traits, do so many wonderful things. You deserve to know that. You deserve to be told that."

"Loving you reminds me that someone thinks of me like that every day. You just have the best soul, and I don't know how I'd make it without you,"I kind of admitted.

"You'd make it just fine,"She yawned, her breathing falling into a pattern as the day's events just drained us of energy.

She'll never know that she saved me. Nobody will.

Nobody will ever know just what these two lovers always do for each other.

Nobody will ever know about the two secret saviors.

#newt x y/n #newt x reader #tmr newt #newt tmr #the maze runner #tmr #one shot #hurt/comfort #fluff #bittersweet fluff

[heyitsphoenixx]

.

#personal vent incoming to just get off my chest don't be weird about it #i've known since i was a kid that my dad was overtly abusive but #just in the last 3-5 months i've learned my mom was and currently is almost just as abusive #but she's just covert about it instead #all of my adolescence was about surviving my dad who was so obviously a monster that he was almost easier to deal w in a way by comparison #this is. what an utter mind fuck #there's also like. no member of my family that i can turn to for help #bc they're either just as bad or my mother has ruined any relationship i might have w them over time #and i also fear being a burden #so i'm making a plan to get out but god it's overwhelming thinking about doing it all alone #and the thought that it might take years to actually get out or get healthy #she's kept me isolated from any support for so long #and im afraid any family that could possibly help wouldn't fully understand or they would be just as bad as her #and it feels impossible to progress at all bc im living w her and literally filed as her dependent on taxes #like ik this is gonna be the hardest thing to escape in my life and i've already escaped a lot #but this time i have to largely on my own #is v scary #and she's conditioned me to believe that i can't make any right decisions on my own without her #and that anything i do is always 'backwards' #makes it that much harder to make a clear plan #her work schedule is so inconsistent that it makes getting therapy online (since i don't have a license or car yet) nearly impossible #to do it without her or my brother listening #that i've just felt trapped for years #but. i can Tell i'm getting better now and rapidly. more than i've been for a v long time #so the process is just beginning and i think even she can tell #which is also dangerous #but ik i can do this its just the amount of time and effort and organizing behind her back and doing it alone thats v overwhelming #but anyway #we stay silly

[bitegore]

hey can someone exlain to me their experience of 'regret'? it's one of those feelings i don't get and i'm curious about it today

#red rambles #context for yous all is that i ate a piece of baklava two days ago and its been absolutely beating my ass for the last day and a half #would do it again in a heartbeat. feels like shit but it was so tasty at the time #ive never regretted anything though. im always doing things and then experiencing adverse consequences and going 'well this sucks' #without having any interest in having done anything else anyway #i can do RELIEF. which is like the backwards version #but not regret

[especiallyhaytham]

Sometimes it's fun when one of my old art posts pops up in my notes like "Awe I remember how much I love this, good memories" but sometimes I'm like "Where the FUCK did you people find that. jail. put it BACK"

#someone should pop in my asks and tell me what to draw next #im kinda feeling fluffly arno content atm? i dont think ive posted an arno here yet but i do love him #silly haytham stuff is always super fun #i could do some connor screenshot redraws i need to practice him more #just dont ask for shay lol sorry ive drawn that man up down left right backwards i need a break from him #ANYTHING but shay #im down to do whatever the people are craving honestly as long as its quick. i love all the assassins equally

[icarrymany]

mutual and a particular fic i read making me think abt transfem jay... u guys r so cool

#i have MET pre-egg-crack transfems that remind me of jay #just. mad at everything and go great lengths to not think abt themselves At All Ever #hyperfocus on Stuff so their brain doesnt think about anything else #bad at making friends bc fitting in with guys is hard and You Shouldnt be fitting in with girls #say what you want pre-everything jay was sooo secondary to the other dudes friendships. and then he was Alone Doing Nothing after college #constant dread. something always feels wrong and you cant tell what but your skin is on backwards and everything is scary #no wonder the operator was able to dig into the cracks in his brain

[a-god-in-ruins-rises]

#i sometimes see certain types say that americans should move to europe #because it's the homeland of our ancestors or something #but i think this is backward thinking #if anything we should be encouraging europeans to move to america #america is the future #america is our last hope #or do you really think europe will save us #how someone could think that #while be bombarded by stories of people being arrested for speech #or laws banning guns #or the immigration crisis #or the atheism #or the lack of patriotism #or a million other issues #look i love europe #i want to visit someday #and it will always have a special place in my heart as the homeland of my ancestors #but europe is not the move #america is #america isn't without its issues #but whatever issues america has #europe has them magnified #the disease has firmly established itself in europe #and it's starting to do the same here in america #but it's not quite past the point of no return yet

[bahrmp3]

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#personal #my brother has been writing online for a couple of years now and recently he started doing commissions #one of the commission has a gay story to it and it always made me go ??? like you someone who is openly homophobic writing for a woman who #specifically asked to include lesbian text as the moving reason for what's happening? and ofc bc I can never keep my mouth shut #today I was like (how are you writing this? for someone who says he doesn't believe /gay/ ppl have a right but not minding their money?) #his answer was (it's not im writing anything explicit...) then he back tracked and was like (ill tell you what dad always says two women #together can't be gay) and when I told him ok but as a homophobe (there is no such thing as homophobia don't fall me that to say homophobia #is like saying you are backwards and an idiot I am neither are you also not []) I feel dumb lmao #what else did I expect? why would I go and ask him that? isn't the answer clear enough? what's even more fucked imo is the commission comes #from one of his online friends? she is paying him 100+ dollars to write this and ok his writing is good but like he must not show her that #side of him and he has been writing so many chapters already it's cheap it's disgusting I shouldn't have said anything #at least from his words he must have forgot me stupidly kind of coming out at some point or is electing to ignore it fuck