#back then- requesting for poster was a normal thing

[sighsebstan]

When You’re Near Me

fluffy little one shot based on When You’re Near Me I Have Difficulty by XTC.

reader’s pronouns are not mentioned nor are there physical descriptions of the reader.

Disclaimers: i write very rarely, and i barely proofread this. as a result, this might be hot garbage. but nonetheless i did think this was too tooth rotting not to post. i just really loved the new superman movie and needed an outlet. also! i am ignoring the fact that his glasses distort his appearance to others bc this is my truth. thank you.

pairing- david!clark kent x reader

You felt so stupid. When the hairs on the back of your neck would stand up, just because you had memorized how Clark’s steps sounded while he walked towards his desk. Closer to you. It was like you had to put yourself in manual drive. Commanding actionable requests in your own head like “breath in 1,2,3 and out 1,2,3.” Or “Ok now look around, now make eye contact, now look at your nails, and back to eye contact. Smile! Don’t forget to smile!” It was so hard to act normal knowing that the man you had been crushing on for a year was right behind you.

Clark was many things. Smart, kind, funny, tall, handsome, charming, hot, hypnotic, buff, lovely, cute, attractive, beautiful, ravishing, stunning, good-looking, gorgeous, visually appealing, radiant, statuesque, photogenic, luscious, prepossessing, pulchritudinous and many other Meriam-Webster Dictionary listed synonyms for handsome.

He always holds the elevator for people, always makes a new pot of coffee when the office pot runs out, and he always comes in with a sunny disposition that radiates throughout the office.

You felt a familiar sensation on the back of your neck as the sound of Clark’s chair wheeled closer to you and Cat. Your heart began beating faster.

“Are you guys talking about that new movie that just came out? Whats it called? The one that used A.I in the movie poster? Ah gosh I just had it…” Clark trailed off.

“Ummmmm…” you attempted.

“Yeah, we were just saying it’s such a shame that every good thing is basically ruined by A.I lately,” Cat starts, “and I know you two both really wanted to see that one too.” Cat liked to think of herself as a matchmaker. You preferred the term sadist. She loved putting you in a position where you had to talk to Clark. She claims it’s just because Clark is a man that would ‘actually treat you right’ and that the exposure therapy is good for you.

“Not anymore. I mean, for Pete’s sake, way to strip the humanity out of art.”

You scoffed. “For real. Taking the art out of art.”

Oh my god. What? That barely even made sense. Art, art, art. Are you a god damn sea lion? Ugh.

“Exactly! it’s not even art.”

“Yeah!” You were quick to respond, feeling a high off of a simple interaction with the small town man. But that fire was quickly snuffed when you made eye contact again. He had a way of watching people when they spoke. You had recognized it before and it never failed to make you feel like a bug under a magnifying glass being seared by a flaming August sunbeam.

There was a beat where the eye contact was broken but his stare remained locked on your face. You watched his eyes travel around your face. To your nose, then to your lips, to your chin, your cheek, and then quickly back to your eyes. But when his eyes returned to yours, your eyes darted to find anything else to look at and landed on the little decorations you keep on your desk.

At the same time Cat is pulled away from the conversation by Jimmy. Something about a source backing out and needing Cat to help him find a new one.

“Oh uh, thank you for editing my superman interview so last minute, by the way. I ended up submitting it right before the deadline, you saved me a lot guff.”

“No problem! I get to read an interview with Superman before it’s public, I should be thanking you.”

Clark huffed out a chuckle. “Well if you ever wanted to get coffee sometime before work, it’s on me. As a thank you.” No gross office jet fuel coffee did sound pretty good. And not paying sounded even better. But the idea of having to be alone with Clark in public immediately spiked your nerves.

“Oh,” you pushed out through a nervous sigh and a smile, “that’s okay, it’s my job.” You were absentmindedly shifting the position of your various desk tchotchkes and picture frames.

“I know you stayed well after hours to help me out with that interview, it’s the least I can do. Please?”

“Are you sure?”

“Very.”

“Okay. Um, there’s a pretty good coffee spot like a block away from here. They opened not too long ago.”

“Bean Machine? I love that place! We can meet there tomorrow morning if you’re not busy.” And you couldn’t stop your mind from hypothesizing: what does Clark Kent order from a coffee shop? A flavored latte? A juice? Or one of those frozen monstrosities?

——————————————————————————

“Could I please get a large hot chocolate and…” Clark begins his order to the green haired barista who is quickly tapping on the iPad system. Clark gestures his hand in your direction as if to say ‘you have the floor.’

“… And could I please get a medium iced coffee? Thank you!”

Your phone vibrates in your hand and you look down to see a text notification from Cat.

Cat:

It’s happening!

You:

I’m gonna throw up.

You were at least mostly joking.

The coffee shop had a few seating areas made up of brown pleather couches, brown pleather ottomans, and oatmeal colored knit stools. The two of you took your spots while you waited for your orders to be called. You sat at the far end of the couch, which ended up being a horrible idea for your sake because Clark also sat on the couch.

“Thank you for the coffee!” You speak loudly to be heard over the murmurs of fellow morning commuters and the sudden grinding of ice from the frozen drink mixer.

“Of course!” He beams at you with that pure small town smile. “Thank you again for saving my bacon and sacrificing your overtime.”

“No problem.”

And then the silence came between you two. This was your nightmare. You tried to find something, anything, to talk about but your mind came up blank. Great.

“Orders for Clark!” The barista shouted from the counter.

“Hey that’s us!” You couldn’t tell if he said that to you or himself. You watched him get up. You had never seen someone look that breath taking in a simple white button up and slacks as black as his wavy hair.

You were quick to trail behind him though. Eager to get yourself out of that situation as quickly as possible. He thanks the baristas on the other side of the counter before turning to hand you your coffee.

“Here ya go.” Clark’s fingers briefly brush yours as he passes you the to-go cup. All air left your lungs and you had consequently forgot the words to say thank you.

You’re not sure why you thought the interaction would end once you left the coffee shop. You neglected to consider the fact that you are both walking towards the Daily Planet office building.

“How’s the coffee?” He asks, taking a sip of his respective beverage.

“It’s so good, those guys sure know how to roast a mean bean.” Oh my god. Stop talking immediately. You ramble to try to erase what you just said. “How’s the hot chocolate? I didn’t even know they sold hot chocolate there. I know some places use water instead of milk to make their hot chocolate. Is it… is it watery?”

“No it’s really good! Definitely a, uh, milk based hot chocolate. Kind of reminds me of the hot chocolate my Ma always makes in the winter. Growing up, I’d come in from the snow- I would spend all day out there building stuff out of snow, throwing snowballs with friends. Sometimes Pa would tie the sled to the back of his riding mower and i would see how long i could go without falling off the sled. But anyway, then I’d come inside to the fire place going and Ma had the hot chocolate already on the stove.”

“Aw that sounds so nice, I love when senses can spark super specific memories like that. Hot chocolate always reminds me of my first job in high school. I was an assistant for the mall Santas. There was one Santa that requested that any time he was low on hot chocolate somebody, me, had to go get him another. I never learned his real name too, he only ever introduced himself as Santa.”

“That might have been the real guy, I think.” He joked.

“Well then, off the record, father Christmas has a terrible smoking problem.”

“Well, jeez, this poor guys gotta remember toy requests from millions of children, manage possibly thousands of elves, deliver everything in one night, and he can’t have a little something to take the edge off?” Even if he was being sarcastic, you still got a kick out of the fact that this was coming from Clark the most innocent person you’ve possibly ever met.

“Is Clark Kent advocating for smoking right now?” You questioned.

“Only for Santa.” He rebutted.

“Mmmm.” You mumbled in acknowledgment. At this point the two of you had stepped into the elevator and Clark pressed the button to your floor.

“This was really fun.”

“Yeah i agree, thanks again for the coffee.”

“Thanks for the company.”

“Any time.” Any time? You absolutely did not mean that. You think your heart would give out if this ever happened again.

“I might take you up on that.” Please no.

——————————————————————————

Once you sat at your desk you started right away opening your emails until Cat came and sat on your desk next to your monitor. She tapped her acrylic nails on the desk.

“Soooo…” she had expectant eyes as she searched your face for a hint of how you were feeling.

“It was fine, Cat. Nothing scandalous, he bought the drinks and then we walked here. The end.”

“And look at that, you survived!”

“Mhhm.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the optimism. But she did have a point. You not only survived, you had a pleasant interaction. One small step for a man, one giant leap for you.

“Well, someone else seems to think it went more than okay.” You look up at Cat.

“Yup. Someone told me that he had a great time getting coffee with you. That you’re super nice and he liked getting to know you. And something about how he was a little nervous at first.”

“Because I’m weird and quiet?”

“Because you’re cute.”

“No.” Your eyes were wide. Your voice echoed slightly throughout the open concept office so you ducked your head to not be seen.

“Yes!” Cat whisper-yelled.

“This is not a funny joke Cat.”

“Why would I joke about my favorite matchmaking experiment?”

“Oh my god.”

“But were those his exact words?”

“Hand on the bible, Hun. Yes.”

——————————————————————————

That night you were laid out on your couch watching reality TV when you felt your phone buzz.

Clark:

I can’t stop thinking about that hot chocolate.

You:

I’ll have to try it sometime, find out what all this hype is about.

You wished desperately that you could be the type of person whose hands didn’t shake while texting your work crush.

Clark:

It can be my treat again!

Clark:

If you wanted to go with me again i mean haha

You:

It’s on me this time! I insist.

Clark:

We’ll see about that. Thursday? Same time?

You:

Works for me!

Clark “liked” a message you sent.

——————————————————————————

When Thursday rolled around you met at the coffee shop again, the conversation flowed like a ping pong tournament after you ordered your drinks. Your knees were weak at the sight of his forearms protruding from the rolled up sleeves of his baby blue button-up and the way that shade of blue brings out his eyes. Clark was telling you all about the research he’s been doing on a fortune 500 company’s financial scandal. He was so passionate about uncovering injustice, it was inspiring. And the way his face would light up when he spoke so passionately was a nice bonus.

“The people have a right to know where their money is going, you know?”

“Yes! We need to be putting our money where our mouths are and stop funding these companies that use our dollars to commit crimes.”

The conversation went a million directions from there. Childhood pets, favorite movies, public transportation. It was enough that you forgot to be nervous.

“Oh, golly I think they called our names like 5 minutes ago and we didn’t hear it.” He walked over to the counter to double check the fact that those were in fact your orders that had been sitting.

“Oops! Wait- what time is it?”

“Ummm I think we’re gonna be a few minutes late.” Clark replied while looking at the time on his phone.

You grabbed your coffee from Clark and the two of you went speed walking down the side walk and around the corner.

You’re able to pause and take a breath once Clark scans you both in and you walk through the door toward the elevator. You press the up button before taking a sip of your iced coffee.

“I just remembered! That whole trip was for you to try the hot chocolate.”

“Ohhhh no!” You replied. You were so stuck in your habits that you ordered your usual without much thought.

“Next time?”

“When is next time?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Sure!”

“Alright, Santa’s helper, it’s a plan.” You felt heat creep up your cheeks at the nickname. He remembered your silly little story?

For the next few weeks it became routine for you two to meet at Bean Machine before work. You told him there’s just no place that roasts beans the same way. But you knew it was just an excuse to see him.

——————————————————————————

“Do you wanna meet up tomorrow?” Clark asks through bites of his flakey croissant breakfast sandwich.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday.”

“I know, I was thinking maybe we could get together without work getting in the way. Only if you want to though, obviously.”

And suddenly that weak knee feeling is back. The lack of words comes back. He wants to see you on the weekend?

“Really?” You ask.

“What do you mean ‘really?’” He laughs. “Yeah, really.”

You pause to collect yourself, hoping it comes off more like contemplation than nerve management. “Um, sure, yeah. What should we get up to?”

“Maybe some mini golf? As long as you’re not intimidated by people who are really good at mini golf.”

“I love mini golf!”

“Alright then mini golf it is. I would suggest coffee first but I think we’ve gone too often as a work thing for it to be a good date sp-“ and then he stops in his tracks and stares just past you. “Oh my gosh. I’m sorry, I did not mean to- I just- that word- there are multiple definitions-“ He begins stuttering.

“Clark you’re fine! You didn’t mean it like that, I know.” While you begin to set the pace for you two to continue walking towards the office building, you attempt to console the 6’4 man who is actively shrinking himself out of embarrassment.

He closes his eyes before opening them to look at you, “What if I did mean it like that?”

“Like what?” You wouldn’t dare assume. You need him to be clear.

“What if I want to take you on a real date? What would you say?” He asks while ushering you to the side of the crowd of commuters so that the two of you can stand and talk by the wall.

“I would say I am very glad I used that overtime on you.”

He looks at you with his charming smile just a little wider than usual, his eyes crinkling in the corners, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

“Yeah?” He asks while stepping closer to you, running his hand down your arm until his hand reaches yours, clasping your hand in his. The electricity you’ve felt just from your fingers touching on coffee cups was amplified by 100. It made you dizzy. It made you crave more from him.

“Yeah. I would very much enjoy going on a real date with you, Clark.” You look up at him, confident for the first time that you know exactly what to say and ignoring your knees which are still attempting to betray you as you stand on the sidewalk.

“Oh my god!” You heard a high pitched voice exclaim.

You look around Clark’s large frame to see Cat running toward you. “Does this mean-“ and she looked between you and Clark for confirmation.

“I am the world’s best match maker!” She concluded.

“Oh my god, Cat! Shhhh!” You stared at her, you’re eyes trying send her a message that she did not care to receive.

“Wait- did you know I went to Cat for advice when we started hanging out?”

“No, she was giving me advice on talking to you!”

“I’m a genius.” She stated, with a self assuredness you envied and loved her for in equal measure. “See you at the office, lovebirds!”

As she disappeared into the sea of dress shoes and briefcases, you both decided you should probably not make each other late for work again and made your way in the same direction.

“Advice?” He questioned with a smirk.

“You make me a little nervous sometimes, can you blame me? You’re- you’re you.”

“Aw, shucks. You’re pretty great yourself.”

“Didn’t you say you also asked her for advice?” And suddenly the man got red again.

“I did. Sometimes I get frazzled around you.”

“Really?”

He’s nodding as you walk in to the office and you, as a pair, nonverbally agree to keep your weekend plans to yourselves.

——————————————————————————

[em1i2a3]

Business

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry/The Void x Thunderbolts!Fem!Reader

Summary: After a night on the town with your old field ops team, you return to the Watchtower in hopes of making a drunken confession to Bob that will change your friendship forever.

Warnings: Fluff, and Some Angst, Reader and Bob are friends and aren’t dating, Mentions of heavy drinking, reader drinks until they are very drunk/tipsy (it is described), Drunken Confessions (and the embarrassment that comes with it afterwards lol), Mentions of throwing up/Hangovers, Reader is kind of hard on themselves regarding love, Bob takes care of the reader while she is in this drunken stupor and he kind of secretly loves every second of it? We are finally attacking the good old Drunken Confession Trope y’all and I frickin love it!!!!

Author’s Note: Y’all I frickin adore a good old love confession trope, like holy crappppp. This was a request from ‘Book anon’, amazing request, thank you a lot for it, I absolutely loved writing it for ya <3. Hope it’s what you’re lookin for! Also…It’s Rhett Abbott Friday…Y’know what that means…Double updates :p

Word Count: 8,137

The bar was absolute chaos.

It pulsed like a living thing–thick with music, sweaty bodies, and the pungent scent of spilled beer and a cocktail of various colognes mixing together, sharp and heady in the humid air. It clung to your skin, warm and damp, tasting like salt and gin and smoke from the overworked fryer in the back kitchen.

There was a faint haze that clouded the enclosed space from people sharing vapes and sneaking off to the alleyway to have a quick cigarette–but this was all normal for a Friday night at a downtown bar. Normal for a place like this, where you didn’t come to relax, you came to drown something.

The ceiling fans spun lazily overhead, which did nothing to help the heat, it just pushed the warm air in spirals. The walls were exposed brick, cracked in places, and plastered with old concert posters and handwritten signs advertising ‘$6 shots if you tip well’ and ‘No Vaping Inside (We See You)’. Every surface glistened faintly with condensation or sweat or both, and the wood beneath your elbows was sticky with spilled drinks and the ghosts of a thousand stories.

Somewhere to your left, the jukebox warbled the opening chords to a song that had no business being that loud, and someone shouted in recognition, fists raised. Glass clinked, a cheer erupted near the dartboard, and the bartender didn’t look up once–just kept pouring with the efficiency of a soldier who had seen war in shot glass form.

You and your old team took up four stools near the far end of the bar–just close enough to the speakers that conversation came in shouts and fragments, but far enough that you could pretend the chaos wasn’t swallowing you whole. The bar was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers, but around your little carved-out corner, it still felt like them–back when your life was smaller, rougher around the edges, but easier to understand.

Benji, always the loudest and boldest, lifted his beer with exaggerated ceremony, nearly tipping it as he stood one foot on the stool’s lower rung. His cheeks were already flushed, the sleeves of his worn flannel pushed up past his elbows, one of them singed at the cuff from a mission he still refused to talk about. His knuckles were always bruised, and there was a faded tattoo peeking from under his collar that said ‘Viva La Prague’–something that he regretted getting when he woke up the next morning.

“Cheers to Y/N!” He bellowed, beer sloshing over his knuckles. “For finding time in her very demanding, top-secret, super glamorous Avenger-adjacent schedule to come slum it with us mortals for one night.” Calla let out a sharp laugh and clinked her whiskey glass against his. Her laugh was sharp like broken glass but warm beneath it–always had been. She still wore the same dog tags under her tank top, still had that scar across her forearm from the rooftop extraction in Marrakesh. She had this permanent smudge of black eyeliner beneath her eyes like she never fully washed off the field, even now.

“Damn right,” She said. “You realize you’re sitting next to someone who’s brushed shoulders with some of the most dangerous people on this planet?”

“And still somehow manages to answer my texts,” Rye added dryly, raising his own glass with a faint smirk. He was the quiet one, always had been. Broad-shouldered and sharp-eyed, more thoughtful than most gave him credit for. You used to joke that his blood ran cold–until the night he’d broken protocol to drag Benji out of a firefight with nothing but a cracked riot shield and a broken rib. He didn’t speak much, but when he did, it landed.

You flushed at the array of comments, ducking your head with a half-laugh, fingers curling loosely around the rim of your mint mojito. The ice had melted, watered the drink down to something limp and barely sweet–just the faint herbal bitterness of wilted mint and cheap rum. You sipped it anyway. It gave your hands something to do. Something to hold onto in the midst of all this.

“Please, guys,” You started with a tight laugh, trying to wave it all off. “You always make a big deal out of this stuff when it’s really not.”

Calla scoffed, swirling the ice in her glass. “Sure. You’ve got a god on your team. And the Winter So–”

“Bucky Barnes,” You interrupted quickly, not looking up from your drink when you corrected her. She smirked over the rim of her glass.

“Alright…Bucky Barnes. My apologies. Didn’t realize it was so formal.” You sighed and took another sip of your wilted mojito.

“We’re also still in a fight for the rights to the name, technically. So I’m not an Avenger. I’m a Thunderbolt.” Rye gave a low grunt and brushed that off with a lazy wave of his hand.

“Please. You guys saved New York City from that big shadow guy. Don’t tell me you’re not on the same level as them.” You groaned, hand lifting to your temple.

“That big shadow guy is the alter ego of the god you’re referring to,” You muttered, rubbing the thin skin on the side of your head with a sigh, “Just saying…And on top of that he’s out of commission so…Technically we’re down a god.” Calla tilted her head.

”Well that must mess up the team dynamic.” She replied, letting out a huff of a laugh. You didn’t answer–not right away at least. You just stared into the half-melted swirl of your drink and felt something subtle crack open beneath your ribs.

Because from the minute they brought up The Void, or Sentry…Your mind went back to him again…

Bob.

You had done everything you could tonight to keep your thought off of him. You came here to be loud, to get drunk, and to surround yourself with the memory of who you were before he started slipping under your skin like golden light through fractured glass.

But now that his name tiptoed through the caverns of your mind, it was impossible to ignore the ache. That slow-burning, bone-deep, stomach turning pull that never left–because he never left. Because he was always there, buried within the little things that littered your life.

Like the way he’d appear in the observation deck above the training floor when you were running combat drills. You’d feel it first, that prickle at the back of your neck that you got when you knew his eyes were on you. That hush just beneath the noise. When you’d glance up mid-round, panting and flushed, there he would be. Leaning with his forearms braced against the railing, light brown hair tousled, and sleeves pushed up, with his eyes locked on you with the softest kind of focus.

When your eyes would meet his, he’d smile–small and startled, like he hadn’t expected to be caught, and then came the little wave. That dumb little half-wave of his. Fingers lifting slowly, shy and gentle, like he was suddenly shy about the fact he was watching you as if you were under a microscope.

You’d raise your hand in return, trying not to blush, and he’d disappear a minute later–quiet as he came–leaving behind the weight of his presence like the last warmth from a sunbeam that had already moved on.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. That he probably watched everyone. That he must have waved at someone else like that, and visited them when they were training too. But still…The moment never left you.

Then sometimes you’d catch him in the kitchen before dawn, getting breakfast ready for you before a whole morning of briefings.

It didn’t matter how early you got up, how quiet you were when you crept into the kitchen, or how late the last mission had run. He was already there. Pajama pants hanging low on his hips, t-shirt wrinkled and inside-out, hair sticking up like he’d rolled out of bed ten minutes ago–because he had. Just for this.

He never said much. Just hummed quietly under his breath, something tuneless and soft, his mug of tea steaming beside the stove as he stirred eggs in a pan like the world wasn’t sitting on his shoulders. There was always a banana sliced with precise, practiced symmetry. Always a small bowl of whatever fruit hadn’t gone soft in the fridge. Always coffee waiting–and not just brewed, but made right. The exact way you liked it.

He never asked how you took it. He just…Knew.

At first you thought it was a coincidence. Then a fluke. Then you thought it was something he specifically did just for you because he was trying to tell you something he couldn’t say with words.

But then you noticed the post-it notes. Little squares of yellow stuck to the fridge door, each one penned in Bob’s unmistakably neat handwriting–slightly slanted, soft around the corners like he hesitated before each letter. A dozen gentle reminders. A dozen invisible kindnesses.

“Leftovers in the container–help yourself :)”

“Made a plain omelette for you Bucky! Check the top shelf!”

”Yelena! I picked up your favourite fruit snacks!”

And you realized…He remembered everyone.

He remembered how Yelena peeled her oranges in one spiral and hated blueberry yogurt. He remembered Bucky’s low tolerance for spice and how he liked his food seasoned well but not with crazy amounts of experimental ingredients. He remembered how Walker took his coffee too sweet and how you once mentioned you liked banana slices with cinnamon–once–and they had shown up on your plate the very next morning. He even remembered specific details about Alexei’s odd meal plan and attempted multiple times to get it right for him.

He was kind to everyone.

Consistent. Gentle. Attentive.

And not just with you.

And that realization sat in your stomach like a stone.

Cold and sinking.

Because all those moments you’d hoarded like firelight–his quiet glances, his shy smiles, his soft waves from the upper deck–they weren’t yours. They weren’t special. You’d just made them feel that way. You had done that. You’d built a shrine to him in your heart based on borrowed things.

And God, did it hurt to realize that.

The ache in your chest twisted, sharp and punishing, because you’d let yourself believe. You’d let yourself hope.

You wanted a sign. Just one. Something undeniable. Something that said:

I see you the way you see me.

But it never came, Instead, you had small waves, and breakfast, and polite, crushing kindness.

He haunted you in the gentlest ways imaginable.

And it killed you every single time.

You inhaled sharply through your nose and blinked hard, forcing your eyes back to the present, back to the bar where Calla was laughing at something Benji said and Rye had his glass tipped back like he was trying to disappear into it. The room swam in noise–booming bass, clinking glass, a woman’s voice singing a chorus in a key she couldn’t quite reach. It all blurred around the edges.

And maybe that was what you needed tonight.

To blur the reality you were facing a bit.

You slapped your palm lightly on the bar, catching the bartender’s eye with practiced ease.

“Shots,” You called out over the music, voice a little too bright, a little too loud. “Four of ‘em. Tequila, preferably please.” Benji whooped. Calla raised her brows. Rye didn’t say a word, but his smirk deepened.

And you smiled. You smiled like it didn’t hurt. Like your heart hadn’t just folded in on itself. Like you weren’t standing knee-deep in the quiet ruins of all the little almosts that Bob had given you without ever meaning to.

You would drink until your body was louder than your thoughts.

You would drink until your head buzzed louder than the ache in your chest.

Until the weight of his quiet love for everyone drowned out the way you had foolishly wanted it to be just for you.

So when the bartender slid the shots across the bar, you didn’t hesitate.

You knocked the first one back with shaking fingers.

Bitter. Clean. Empty.

And you welcomed the burn.

——————————

The city blurred past the window of your Uber, a smear of neon and streetlamp gold, glowing through the raindrops that had started falling sometime after shot number three. Your head lolled slightly against the window, eyes half-lidded, the hum of the tires and your own pulse making everything feel distant–like you were underwater. Or watching your life from outside your body.

By the time the car pulled up in front of the Watchtower–a steel-and-glass monolith that sliced through the dark sky of New York City–you were barely holding onto the thread of consciousness that guided your limbs.

You fumbled with the handle before the driver even came to a full stop, murmured something that was half “thanks” and half “sorry,” and stepped out into the night on legs that didn’t quite feel like yours.

The heels were a mistake. You knew it the moment your ankle gave a soft warning twist on the slick pavement.

You wobbled, caught yourself against the doorframe of the Uber with a slurred curse, and gritted your teeth as you leaned heavily against the side of the building. The clutch in your hands was trembling. Or maybe that was just you. It took three full tries before you got your fingers to actually grip the zipper and tug it open.

Keys. Where the hell were your keys?

You muttered softly to yourself–nothing coherent, just a trail of “come on, come on, come on’s”–until finally your fingers brushed cold metal and closed around it.

You fumbled the key into the reader by the glass security panel. The red light blinked once.

Then again.

Then turned green with a chirp.

“Ha,” You breathed victoriously, stumbling inside, your shoulder knocking against the side of the lobby door as it whooshed shut behind you. The interior lighting was dim and moody, the kind of atmospheric glow designed to look expensive and feel exclusive. Everything in here was marble or glass or brass-accented. Everything screamed quiet money and polished silence.

You certainly did not match that aesthetic, not tonight at least.

Not in your tiny black slip dress, silk clinging to your damp skin like it was reluctant to let go. The hem was hitting high on your thighs, dangerously close to riding up with every step. The plunging neckline had been a power move at the bar–now it just felt…Exposed. The thin straps had slid halfway down your shoulders, and the delicate silver jewelry at your throat glittered faintly under the chandelier lighting–dainty hoops, a little pendant, the layered rings on your fingers clinking faintly against your clutch.

Your heels clicked unevenly against the sleek tile floor, your mascara slightly smudged beneath one eye, lips tinged pink and glossy, though the edges were wearing off. Your hair had frizzed a bit from the humidity, and it was dampened from where sweat and summer air had kissed it. You looked like you barely survived the night.

You stumbled forward, half-dragged by the momentum of your own steps, your shoulder grazing the edge of the marble wall as you made your way toward the elevator tucked at the far end of the lobby. The walls glittered faintly with embedded flecks of quartz, cool and luxurious against the chaos clinging to you like perfume and poor decisions.

You hit the call button with more force than necessary, nearly stabbing it with your thumb. The ring around it lit up in a soft gold halo, and somewhere behind the mirrored doors, gears began to churn.

You closed your eyes and tipped your head back against the cold marble, breathing through your nose. Big mistake.

The room swayed.

Your stomach rolled.

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter.

“Fuck.” You mumbled.

That sickly wave of nausea was curling up your throat now, hot and bitter like it had been distilled straight from regret and tequila. The inside of your skull throbbed, slow and heavy, like the hangover had decided to arrive early and was already unpacking its bags behind your eyes.

The elevator chimed softly.

You pushed off the wall and stumbled in just as the doors slid open, nearly tripping on the threshold as your heel caught on the groove. Your hand slapped against the mirrored wall for balance.

Cool air kissed your bare skin as you stepped into the softly lit interior that reflected your image back at you tenfold. It was quiet thankfully, and you hoped that it would ease the sickly feeling that was brewing beneath the surface.

You exhaled a long, shaky breath.

Then, with a small whimper of relief, you bent to unstrap your heels, one hand bracing on the brass railing that ran along the mirrored back wall. You kicked the shoes off with a graceless thud, the straps tangling around each other as they landed in the corner like discarded evidence of the night you were trying to outrun.

Your bare feet met the cool tile floor, and you sighed as if that alone had peeled away a layer of your exhaustion. It didn’t, really. But it helped enough.

The panel of glowing buttons waited silently beside you. You squinted at it, already swaying as your fingers hovered in hesitation.

You pressed 64.

Then 73.

Then 87, your eyes blinking slowly with a look of concentration like you were solving a puzzle only you understood.

The elevator didn’t move.

“Oh my god,” you muttered under your breath, dragging a hand down your face.

Then, finally, you reached out and pressed 80.

Home.

The right floor.

The correct button glowed back at you, steady and sure, as the elevator gave a soft mechanical sigh and began to rise.

You leaned back against the mirrored wall, shoulders slumping, one hand pressed flat to your stomach as if you could calm the roiling sea inside you by sheer will. The light above your head flickered slightly with each passing floor. The city outside blurred behind the glass wall of the elevator shaft, nothing more than distant, glowing geometry.

Your reflection caught your eye on the polished surface behind you.

You looked…Like a mess.

Not in the beautiful, tragic way either. In the real way. In the mascara-smudged, lipstick-faded, emotionally-gutted way. Your dress clung to your sides, one strap threatening to fall again. Your fingers were still curled loosely around your clutch, your knuckles tight with tension even though you hadn’t realized you were gripping it that hard.

Your eyes–God, your eyes. They looked glassy, like you had put eyedrops in them and they didn’t absorb properly.

You pressed your forehead to the cool mirror, the glass fogging faintly from your breath. You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t have the energy to cry.

So you didn’t.

You just stood there, barefoot and quiet, while the elevator climbed.

And with every passing floor, it felt like you were being carried closer and closer towards the part of yourself you had tried so desperately to drown tonight.

Up.

Up.

Up.

The elevator gave a soft ding as it arrived at the 80th floor, and the doors slid open with a whisper, spilling warm light and the faint scent of something buttery into the space around you.

You stumbled forward like gravity had suddenly tripled, one hand still braced against the mirrored wall until your foot hit the edge of the elevator threshold. Your clutch slipped from your fingers and hit the floor with a muffled thunk, but you didn’t stop to pick it up.

The living space that unfolded in front of you was dim but alive in the quiet, familiar way that only the Watchtower could be at night. The common room stretched out in soft pools of warm yellow light, lamps scattered strategically along the shelves and corners, casting long shadows over the leather couches and polished floorboards. A movie played on low volume from the TV, some old sci-fi flick that was mostly just flickering blue light across the far wall. Someone had left a blanket thrown over the back of the couch, and the faintest scent of popcorn clung to the air–microwaved, and slightly burnt.

The floor under your bare feet was cool and smooth, and the air here was different–cleaner, quieter. It should have sobered you a bit but it didn’t. If anything, the stillness made the emotional noise inside you ring louder.

You wandered forward like a ghost through the room, mumbling a little laugh to yourself as you navigated around the edge of the coffee table and nearly tripped over the corner of a throw pillow. You caught yourself on the arm of the couch, a breathy giggle escaping your lips.

”O-Oh boy…” Came a soft, familiar voice from the left, and you froze like someone had turned a spotlight onto you, “Someone’s d-drunk.” Your head jerked up, eyes wide, and you found Bob standing just beyond the breakfast bar, halfway between the common room and the kitchen.

He looked soft in the low light, like the moment had rounded all his unintentional edges. He was barefoot in flannel sleep pants and a worn navy blue cotton t-shirt, sleeves loose on his biceps, with the collar slightly stretched from multiple washes. His light brown crown of hair was brushed back like he had ran his hands through it to get it that way–it looked neater than normal. He was holding a glass of water, while leaning on his free hand that rested on the counter beside him, and his deep blue eyes glowed faintly, just enough to reflect the soft lamplight that surrounded him.

Your eyes softened the second they landed on him.

Like the sight of Bob in the soft kitchen glow had physically reached inside your chest and flipped the switch that held you together.

“…Bob…” you breathed, barely a whisper, the syllable thick with alcohol and emotion. His name left your lips like a prayer or a spell–like something that lived under your tongue, always waiting to escape.

You stumbled toward him, your steps loose and unsteady, arms swaying slightly as if you couldn’t quite feel your own limbs. He moved the moment your weight pitched too far forward–quick but gentle, setting the glass down and reaching for you.

His arm caught you right before your knees could give, wrapping firmly around your waist as you let out a tiny gasp, hands clinging to the soft fabric of his shirt.

“Woah–got you,” He murmured, voice quiet and careful, like he was speaking to something fragile. His other hand steadied your arm, helping you straighten just enough to stop swaying.

Your eyes drifted up to his face again. Those soft, blinking lashes. That faint glow in his gaze. The concern furrowed across his brow.

“…Bob,” You whispered again, like saying his name might hold your world together

“Y-yes, yes…” He gave a tiny, sheepish smile. “It’s Bob.” His voice carried that gentle stutter, the same one that made your heart ache even harder when it came wrapped in kindness. “Y-you really are drunk, huh? I-I thought you said you were only going to h-have one drink tonight…” He leaned in slightly, breathing in slowly, his nose crinkling at the smell. “Your b-breath smells like you downed a whole bottle of…Tequila? V-vodka?” You tilted your head back in slow motion, neck jelly-soft, eyes glassy as you stared at the ceiling like it might stop the room from spinning.

“I had…A little more than that…” You slurred, the words tumbling out through a hazy grin as you leaned your cheek lazily against his chest. The warmth of him beneath your skin felt grounding–dangerously so. Bob let out a breath, quiet but pointed, and looked at you with the kind of expression that made your heart twist: equal parts amusement and gentle worry.

“Y-yeah, I think a little would be an u-understatement,” He said, voice soft as his fingers shifted carefully at your waist, steadying you again, before picking up his glass of water and offering it to you.

”H-Here…You need this more than I d-do.” You stared at the glass of water in his hand but didn’t take it. Just leaned forward a little, lips parting to put the rim of the glass between them. Your eyes didn’t leave his–not even for a second.

Bob went stiff as a board.

“…O-Okay,” he breathed, blinking rapidly as he adjusted his grip. “I-I guess we’re doing this then…”

He tilted the glass gently, his other arm still holding you steady at the waist, and you drank–loudly. The slurp echoed in the quiet room like a firecracker in a chapel. Your eyes remained fixed on his while you did it.

Bob made a soft, choked noise in the back of his throat.

Then he laughed. Nervously. Tight.

“Y/N,” He mumbled, trying to keep his voice light, but it cracked a little, “S-stop l-looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” You asked, lips still against the rim, your voice playful and fuzzy with alcohol.

He shook his head slightly, exhaling through his nose with that familiar pinched look he got when he was trying not to say something he shouldn’t.

“L-like you’re gonna jump me or something…”

Your giggle came instantly–high and breathless. “W-why? Is it making you blush?”

“I-it’s not–” His voice pitched up, caught between flustered and mortified. “N-no! I just–It just looks…” He didn’t finish the sentence. Because you were still staring at him.

At his mouth. His eyes. The soft dip of his collarbone beneath the worn shirt fabric. The gentle flex in his arm where he held the glass. The way he steadied you with one broad palm against your lower back like it was second nature. Like holding you up was something he’d always be willing to do, whether you noticed it or not.

And that was the problem.

Because your brain was no longer operating with logic. The part of you that normally weighed consequences and considered timing had packed up and left sometime between shot two and shot four. All that was left behind was this awful, soft, unfiltered version of you–the one that looked at Bob like he was a deity.

“…Can I tell you a secret?” You asked, tipping your chin so your face was close–close enough that you could see the way his breath caught in his throat. Bob blinked at you. His mouth opened, hesitated.

Then: “I-I’m gonna assume you’ll tell me e-even if I say no, so…Go ahead.”

You reached up, slow and heavy with exhaustion and feeling, and placed your hand flat against his chest, right over his heart.

It was warm beneath your palm, beating away with a hard and steady rhythm.

You looked up at him, eyes glassy, lip trembling with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, and said:

“I’m so…So in love with you.”

The words hung there between you.

Soft. Heavy. Unstoppable.

Bob froze.

His lips parted. His brows lifted. His eyes went wide, and for a moment, the whole room felt like it had been dipped in stillness.

“And you have no idea…” You added with a soft, broken giggle, blinking hard as your vision began to shimmer. “None. Like…Zero. Zip.”

His throat bobbed in a swallow. His hand didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at you, as if any sudden shift might cause you to shatter right in front of him.

“Y-You’re s-super drunk,” He said gently, like he was trying to give you an out, an excuse, “Y-you don’t even know what you’re saying right now…”

But you did. You knew exactly what you were saying. You just didn’t have the filter left to keep it in. You shook your head, slow and heavy, your hand still pressed to his chest.

“I know you don’t love me back,” You murmured, voice cracking on the words, “But I just don’t understand why you don’t…” Your eyes welled. You blinked, but the tears didn’t care. They spilled anyway, hot and unwelcome, trembling down your cheeks with no grace at all.

Bob’s face twisted–not in discomfort, but something closer to heartbreak. He set the glass of water down with a soft clink and a sigh.

“L-Let’s get you to bed,” He said, almost too softly. “Y-you have to sleep this off before you say anything else…”

“I’m fine…” You mumbled, but your knees were already giving out again. Bob caught you–easily, without hesitation–his arms scooping under your legs and behind your back as he lifted you like you weighed nothing.

“C’mon,” He whispered, his voice close to your ear now. “I’ll bring you t-to your room…”

You said something incoherent against his chest, your head lolling. The world tilted, then began to fade as the comfort of being in his arms won the battle against everything else.

You passed out somewhere between the hallway and your door.

———————

You woke to the soft hush of morning light slipping through sheer white curtains–just enough to tint the room in a pale, silvery glow. The air felt still, like it didn’t want to disturb you. And for a second, everything was quiet.

Then the pounding in your head started.

You groaned softly, burying your face into the nearest pillow–warm, faintly smelling like linen and something else. Clean soap. Sunlight. A hint of coffee and cedar and… Bob. You froze, nose still pressed to the pillowcase.

This…Wasn’t your room.

You cracked one eye open, letting your vision adjust slowly to the warm light bleeding into the space. The room wasn’t large, but it was lived-in in a way that felt rare in the Watchtower. Not sterile or pre-designed–personal. Lined neatly across the window sill were tiny cactuses in mismatched ceramic pots, each a different shape and size. One had a little pink flower blooming from the top. You blinked at them slowly, as if expecting them to vanish once the dream faded. But they didn’t. They stayed.

There was a navy throw blanket folded at the foot of the bed, textured and heavy-knit. The comforter tucked around you was cloud-soft, pulled neatly to your collarbone, and smelled faintly of detergent and something…Familiar. Like fabric that had been line-dried in sun and wind. You wriggled slightly, groggy, blinking the haze from your lashes–and that’s when you felt it.

Something pressed lightly against your back.

Not a person. No weight or breath or heat–just soft resistance. You shifted again and rolled your head to the side, squinting down to find a long, narrow body pillow pressed up against you. Positioned carefully. Like it had been put there with purpose. To keep you from rolling onto your back. You were slowly starting to piece together that something must’ve happened last night.

You pushed yourself upright slowly, fingers dragging across your cheek. The room spun a little, tilting like it was on a boat, and you winced at the sensation. Your mouth was dry. Your stomach ached with emptiness and leftover nausea. You swallowed hard, blinked a few more times–and then glanced down at yourself.

You weren’t in your dress anymore.

You were in a soft, oversized cotton tee–light gray, threadbare at the hem, with sleeves that hung down past your elbows. You pinched the fabric and brought it closer to your face. It smelled like him. Like sleep and clean skin and the warm edge of something you couldn’t name without your heart stuttering in your chest.

You looked to the bedside table and found a small glass of water waiting for you. The condensation fogged gently on the inside of the glass. Next to it, a bright blue electrolyte packet lay unopened beside a sleeve of dry crackers–still in the plastic. And beneath them…

A sticky note.

“For when you wake up.”

His handwriting was unmistakable–neat, soft-cornered, careful. Your throat tightened as you stared at the little smiley face he’d drawn after the message. It felt like something private. Like a gift left at the edge of a dream you barely remembered having.

You reached for the glass with trembling fingers, lifting it slowly to your mouth to take a long drawn out sip, grateful for the cool taste against your dry tongue.

The door creaked softly on its hinges.

You turned your head, still groggy, expecting maybe a knock–some warning–but instead, Bob slipped quietly into the room with a laundry basket tucked against his hip. His hair was tied up in a small, slightly messy knot to keep it out of his face, a few strands still falling across his brow. He’d changed since last night. Now he wore a deep forest green sweater that was just a little too big on him, sleeves pushed up to the elbows, and a pair of soft gray sweatpants that pooled slightly at the ankles.

His socks didn’t match.

You stared at him for a second too long–there was something about the way the soft light caught on his face, the curve of his jaw, the loose comfort of his frame that made your stomach twist.

Then his eyes landed on yours.

He froze for just a second before his expression melted into something warm and careful.

“O-oh,” He said, voice low and a little shy. “You’re up.” His smile, small and genuine, tugged faintly at the corner of his mouth. He set the basket gently on the floor by the dresser, fingers brushing his knee as he straightened again. You rubbed at one of your eyes with the back of your hand, the oversized sleeve slipping down your arm.

Your voice came out rough with sleep.

“…What happened last night?” Bob let out a quiet sigh, raking a hand through the wisps of hair that had fallen loose. He didn’t look annoyed. He didn’t even look all that flustered. Just…Tired. Gentle.

“W-well…” He started carefully, shifting his weight a little. “I’m assuming you d-don’t remember much, ‘cause I brought you to your room and… As I was putting you o-on your bed you threw up all over your duvet…”

You groaned instantly, a soft and mortified sound, setting the glass back down on the nightstand so you could bury your face into your hands.

“Oh my God.”

Bob’s voice was soothing, almost amused. “A-and so I had to change you b-because it got on your dress, and I, um…Put you in my bed.”

He motioned toward the room with a tilt of his head, voice still soft.

“I s-slept on the couch.”

You peeked through your fingers, eyes wide and already heating with embarrassment.

“I–you–oh God, Bob.”

“I washed your sheets and stuff,” He added quickly, pointing down to the laundry basket near his feet. “T-they’re clean. I-I used the good detergent, the one that has the stain remover in it…T-They’re good as new.” Your hands slid down your face, palms dragging slowly as you stared at him in horror, remembering that you were wearing his shirt.

”And you changed me?” You questioned, your brows pulling together.

”Y-Yeah? I mean…You had vomit on your dress, and I-I wasn’t going to leave you on the floor of your bedroom…B-But I also didn’t want to get vomit on m-my sheets so…” You dropped your head back against the pillow, groaning louder this time as you brought your arm across your eyes. “I-If it makes you feel any better I-I didn’t see much, I had the lights off and my eyes closed p-pretty much.” You couldn’t help it–you let out a small, pained laugh behind your forearm.

“God, that makes it so much better,” You muttered sarcastically, your voice reverberating through your arm. You heard a quiet shuffle–soft socks brushing across the floor, fabric shifting–and then the distinct dip of the mattress beside you.

It was subtle, the weight of him settling, careful not to shift you too much.

“S-So I’m assuming you don’t w-want to hear what you said to me l-last night either then?” Bob’s voice was quiet–gentle, almost like he was giving you a way out if you wanted it. But it trembled at the edges. You froze in your spot, as your arm dropped from your eyes.

He was sitting beside you with his legs crossed at the ankles, sweater bunched a little around his hip, hair still loosely tied but not it was truly falling out of the knot completely. His brows were pulled together in that way they always were when he was bracing himself for something.

“…What did I say?” You asked, barely above a whisper.

Your voice cracked halfway through, stretched thin with dread. You already knew. Somewhere in the back of your brain–behind the fog of tequila and the undeniable ache–you knew exactly what you’d done.

Bob didn’t answer right away.

He let out a breath through his nose and reached up, fingers tugging the hair tie loose. His hair spilled out with a slow tumble, strands falling across his face before he swept them back with one hand and began fidgeting with the elastic between his fingers.

“Y-You told me you’re in love with me,” He said finally, voice low and uncertain–softer than you expected. He gave a faint, shaky little laugh at the end, like he was still trying to convince himself it had really happened, “Said i-it was a secret, actually…” Your blood ran hot in your veins. Not from the warmth of the blanket, not from the sunlight–but from the kind of shame that makes your throat tighten like it’s trying to hold in everything that’s already spilled.

Bob kept fiddling with the tie, eyes fixed on his hands.

”A-And then…You told me that you know I d-don’t love you back, and you…Y-You said you didn’t understand why.” The silence that followed was devastating, as you let the moment–that sentence in itself–stretch and breathe. You could hear him picking at the fabric that surrounded the hair tie, not wanting to make eye contact with you, knowing that you would probably recoil into yourself if he did.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The words were there–lodged just behind your teeth, crowding your throat–but they all fought for space at once. A breath left your lips instead. Just a small one. Shaky. Barely a sound.

Bob kept his eyes on the elastic band in his fingers, stretching it between his knuckles. Pulling. Twisting. Letting it snap softly back into place like it helped him stay focused.

Then, he said it–quietly, gently, and without accusation, “Y-You don’t have to explain yourself…I know you were d-drunk, and…It doesn’t have to mean anything…I-I just–“ He hesitated, his voice cracking faintly around the edges, “I thought you should know that you told m-me. I didn’t want to pretend like you didn’t s-say it.” His profile was soft in the morning light, jaw faintly stubbled, hair falling messily around his temple. But it was the expression on his face that held you in place–something pulled tight beneath the surface, something raw. Not pity. Not awkwardness. No, it looked almost like…

Disappointment.

A quiet kind, the kind he wasn’t even aware he was showing.

Your pulse quickened.

Your fingers curled in the fabric of the blanket as you slowly sat up, the shift of weight creaking faintly beneath you. You swallowed hard, tasting the nerves on your tongue like they might choke you.

“…It did mean something,” You whispered, almost like you were afraid saying it out loud would break the spell–or him.

Bob’s fingers froze around the hair tie.

His eyes flicked to you instantly. Wide. Searching. He didn’t speak at first, just watched you, his chest rising slowly with each breath like he was trying not to exhale too hard and blow everything away.

“W-Why do you think I don’t love you back?” He asked. Your heart stopped and stuttered in your chest.

You looked down, unable to hold that gaze for long. Your voice came out uneven, quiet.

“…Because you’ve never…”

You hesitated. Licked your lips and tried again.

“Because you’ve never said anything to me about it. Ever. And everything you do for me–”

You swallowed.

“It’s what you do for everyone else. You remember things for them. You cook for them. You leave notes for them. You watch their training too, don’t you?” Your voice got smaller, softer. “There are no concrete signs, Bob. Not ones I can trust. And I didn’t want to impose…I didn’t want to make something out of things that weren’t meant for me.”

Silence.

A beat passed.

Then two.

And when you finally glanced up through your lashes to meet his gaze again, you found him looking at you like you’d just said something he didn’t know how to answer. Not because he didn’t want to–but because something in your words had hurt him, more than you expected.

His voice was quieter than ever when he spoke again, “And what if it was meant for you?” You blinked slowly, taken aback by his hidden admission. Your lips parted to say something but nothing came.

Bob’s fingers loosened around the hair tie, and he dropped it on the bed beside him without a sound. His hands now sat quietly in his lap, thumb brushing the inside of his palm before he began picking at the dry skin there.

”What if…I did all those things b-because I felt different when I was doing them for y-you?” Bob turned toward you slowly–deliberately–until his whole body faced yours, knees brushing against the edge of the blanket you still had tucked around you.

His hands remained in his lap, fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to fidget again. But his eyes… his eyes didn’t move from yours. They held steady. Gentle. Glowing faintly with something fragile and unspoken, like a lantern shielding its flame against the wind.

“I d-do those things for everyone, y-you’re right,” he said, voice soft and trembling–but certain, too, like each word had been sitting on his tongue for months. “I-I take care of people. It’s how I… show I care. Because I’m not always good at s-saying the things I want to.”

You didn’t speak. You didn’t dare. You were too afraid that the moment might fracture if you breathed wrong.

Bob swallowed, his eyes never leaving yours. “But when I do those things for you…” His voice dipped lower. “It is different.”

You blinked slowly, breath caught in your throat.

“I watch y-you train because I want to see you be strong,” He continued, his voice gaining weight, trembling with emotion even as he tried to keep it steady. “Because it’s the only time I-I get to admire you without getting caught. And sometimes I want to feel like I’m supporting you, even if it’s just…Just b-being there.”

Your stomach twisted, curling tighter and tighter with each quiet admission.

“I get up early to make breakfast for everyone, s-sure,” He said, his mouth curling faintly at the corners like he was almost shy about it. “But when I’m m-making yours? I’m not thinking about calories or b-balance or what’s healthy. I’m thinking about you.” His hand lifted, hovering in the space between you like it might touch you–but didn’t. Not yet. “I’m thinking about whether your eyes will go wide when you s-see what I made. Or if you’ll laugh and roll your eyes b-because I cut the banana slices too thin. I think about what you’ll say. I think about if maybe…Y-You’ll know that I made it with all the care in the world…”

Your breath hitched in your chest.

“I leave notes for the others because I-I want them to feel looked after,” He said softly. “But yours? I write them slowly. I-I sit there with the pen in my hand and w-wonder if I should sign my name with a smiley face or not. I wonder if it’ll m-make you smile if I write something dumb or sweet, and I-I wonder if you’ll read it twice.” You stared at him, stunned, lips parted. The weight of his words pressed into your ribcage like a tidal swell, heavy and full of warmth, of longing, of something you hadn’t dared to name before now.

“B-but if you’ve been waiting for a concrete s-sign…”

He trailed off softly, like the rest of the sentence was afraid to come out. And then he moved–slowly, gently, like he was approaching something sacred. His hand lifted from his lap with an almost reverent caution, like he didn’t want to startle you, like you might vanish if he rushed this moment.

You felt it before it landed.

The warmth of his palm hovered for a heartbeat near your cheek–close enough that your skin prickled with anticipation, with want, with fear–and then he touched you. His fingers trembled ever so slightly, calloused but tender as they curled to cradle the side of your face, thumb brushing delicately across the high point of your cheekbone.

Your breath hitched–caught and held like a secret between you.

His gaze was steady now. Deep. Quietly ablaze.

“I-It’s this,” He whispered, before leaning in, without hesitation. Just quiet, deliberate affection–like this was something he had pictured in a hundred different dreams but never dared to reach for while awake because he thought he couldn’t execute it as well. He moved close enough that his forehead nearly brushed yours, his breath warm and sweet between you, tinged faintly with mint and something soft like cinnamon–probably from his morning tea. His fingers shifted slightly at your jaw, tilting you just enough, guiding without pressure, coaxing without assumption.

Then he kissed you.

Just the faintest pressure of his lips brushing yours, the kind of kiss that barely registered as physical. It felt like something else entirely–like a promise passed from his mouth to yours. His other hand came up slowly to frame your face, fingertips pressing slightly into your hairline, as he deepened the kiss with such mindfulness it made your whole body shiver.

He kissed you like he was learning you, like he’d waited long enough that now every second had to be savored. And when he pulled back for just a breath–just to look at you, his eyes wide and dark and brimming with emotion–you were already chasing the kiss back.

And this time, when his mouth returned to yours, he took your bottom lip between his.

It was deliberate, careful, and full of devotion.

His lips were plush and warm, and then gently–so gently–he sucked on it, slow and sweet, like he was trying to taste all the years he’d spent not saying what he felt. A quiet sound left your throat, something between a gasp and a sigh, your fingers clutching the edge of the blanket like it might anchor you to the moment.

His thumb was still brushing your cheek in soothing arcs, even as his mouth lingered, coaxing yours open with nothing but affection. Not hunger. Not need.

Just love.

There was no question in the way he kissed you.

No doubt.

He kissed you like this was the answer to every secret you’d both ever buried. Like it had always been building toward this.

When he finally–reluctantly–pulled back, his forehead came to rest against yours, his breath mingling with yours in soft, trembling puffs. His hands stayed cupped to your face, thumbs still caressing your skin like he couldn’t stop touching you now that he’d started.

You barely opened your eyes, afraid to break the spell, but when you did… There he was. Glowing faintly in the morning light, cheeks flushed, lashes low over sea-blue eyes that brimmed with something so open it made your chest ache.

“I love you too.” He said.

[sunshine-lux]

Can I have Joaquin Torres with early 20s reader who's looks all shy and innocent but is actually chaotic and likes to make dark and/or sexual jokes?

And she also likes to say things without context

Bed Chem

summary: the four times you made Joaquin speechless and the one time he got you back!

pairings: Joaquin Torres x reader

warnings: like extremely suggestive lol, some mentions of death but nothing serious! maybe some light swearing?? f!reader

word count: 2.6k

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺

The afternoon sun bled through the tall windows of the base , painting lazy gold streaks across the hallway outside the briefing room. Sam leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching with a mounting sense of dread as Y/N clacked away at her laptop. She was sitting cross legged in a rolling chair, chewing bubblegum, wearing a cropped Princess Mononoke tee and baggy black jeans so shredded they looked like they'd survived a battle.

Sam sighed. Loudly.

“Alright. Listen,” he started, tone already warning. “Joaquin’s back today. Should be here any minute.”

Y/N hummed without looking up.

“So maybe just… be normal for five minutes?”

That got her attention. She spun her chair slowly toward him, resting her chin in her palm, the picture of mischief barely contained.

“Define normal,” she said.

“Like… not saying anything that could get me sued. Or arrested. Or both.”

She grinned like that was the most boring request anyone had ever made.

“Don’t worry, Cap. I’ll make a great impression.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t sound reassuring when you say it.”

Y/N stood, stretching with a little yawn, her shirt riding up enough to make Sam avert his eyes. She adjusted her pants casually and reached for her ID badge like she was prepping for a runway and not a classified military briefing.

Sam blinked. “Is that really what you’re wearing?”

“Yeah.” She glanced down at herself. “What about it?”

“It’s not exactly professional, Y/N.”

“Oh, totally. So you’re gonna give me money to go to Ann Taylor and buy some lame-ass blazer, right?”

“…No.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

She gave him a winning smile.

“Relax,” she said, swiping on a fresh coat of lip gloss. “Birdboy’s gonna love me. Everyone does.”

Sam rubbed a hand over his face. “Just don’t freak him out.”

“No promises.”

The elevator dinged.

Both of them turned as the doors slid open. Joaquin walked in like a walking recruitment poster. Windblown hair, wings collapsed neatly behind him, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, fitted tactical shirt clinging to him. He was flushed from the mission, smiling like he wasn’t about to get annihilated by a girl in a crop top.

Y/N blinked.

“Oh no,” she muttered, voice low. “He’s hot.”

Then, without missing a beat, louder: “Captain, I can’t be held liable for my actions if this man breathes in my direction.”

Joaquin visibly froze.

Sam groaned like he’d just been shot.

“Joaquin, meet Y/N,” he said. “My assistant.”

Y/N stepped forward, hand extended.

Joaquin blinked hard. “Uh… hi. I’ve heard you’re very… efficient.”

“Oh, totally.” Her voice dropped into a teasing purr. “If you wanna see how efficient I am, just give me a call.” She laughed to herself, rolling her eyes. “Sorry. That was a joke.”

A beat. Then she added with a crooked little smile, “Kind of.”

Joaquin’s ears turned pink.

Y/N shook his hand firmly, eyes raking over him as she tilted her head.

“Wow. Big hands.” She turned back to Sam with a mock scolding tone. “You really should’ve warned me.”

Sam didn’t respond. He just turned and walked away.

Y/N watched him go, then leaned in close to Joaquin, lowering her voice like they were already in on a secret.

“So… wanna see how good I am at filing reports or do you wanna see what else I’m good at?”

Joaquin’s brain officially left the building. “...Sure.”

Y/N beamed. “Perfect answer, Birdboy.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The hallway outside the gym smelled faintly of floor cleaner and sweat.

Y/N walked briskly, a tablet tucked under one arm and a stack of folders nearly slipping out of her grip. She’d just finished organizing mission reports for Sam and was muttering under her breath about font sizes and outdated filing systems when the doors to the training wing swung open.

Out walked Joaquin.

His hair was damp, curling slightly at the ends and sticking to his forehead. His shirt was off, slung casually over one shoulder. He was still flushed from training, chest rising and falling, skin glistening under the overhead lights like someone had lightly misted him in holy water. 

Y/N stopped walking. Dead in her tracks.

“Oh,” she whispered.

The folders dipped in her arms.

She blinked at him—sweaty, gorgeous, and completely oblivious to the devastation he was causing—and then muttered to herself, just loud enough:

“I must be God’s favorite.”

Joaquin slowed, towel in one hand, his expression shifting from tired to confused.

“Huh?”

Y/N tilted her head, eyes dragging down his chest and back up again. She exhaled through her nose like she was genuinely trying to keep her composure.

“You need to get away from me before I bite your biceps.”

There was a beat of silence.

Joaquin’s brain crashed.

“I—uh—what?”

She walked past him, biting back a grin, then turned over her shoulder.

“I said have a nice day, Mr. Falcon. You look very hydrated.”

Joaquin opened his mouth to respond. Nothing came out. He looked down at his own arm like he’d never seen it before like it had betrayed him somehow by existing in her line of sight.

Behind him, Y/N disappeared around the corner, tablet balanced effortlessly, still grinning.

He stood there in the hallway for a solid thirty seconds.

Then finally, to no one in particular–

“Did she just—? She did. She said—”

He exhaled.

“I’m gonna die here.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The office printer was testing her patience.

Y/N stood in front of it, sleeves rolled up, one hand on her hip and the other smacking the top of the machine like it owed her money. It had jammed on the final page of Sam’s mission brief, and now it was making a sad whirring noise that sounded almost like it was ready to give out on her.

“Don’t play with me,” she muttered, hitting the side again. “I will rip out your motherboard and smash it into pieces.”

She whacked it again, harder this time.

Joaquin walked by at that exact moment, towel slung around his neck from his afternoon run, and paused just in time to watch her body check the poor printer.

His laughter echoed down the hallway.

“Wow,” he called, grinning. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

Y/N turned, frustration melting off her face, quickly replaced by charm. “That would only turn me on, babe.”

Joaquin blinked.

Hard.

His mouth opened like he had a comeback ready, some charming one liner about danger or her being a distraction but Y/N was already walking toward him, flipping through the half printed report like nothing had happened, her ponytail swinging.

“You were saying?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Joaquin opened his mouth again. Then immediately closed it when she glanced down at his lips.

“I—uh—” he stammered, taking a step back as his brain tried to locate basic vocabulary.

Y/N smirked.

He turned away a little too quickly, brushing a hand through his hair like that might fix whatever the hell just happened to him.

And then he tripped.

Over absolutely nothing.

Y/N didn’t even try to hide her laugh as he caught himself against the wall, red blooming across his cheeks.

“You good there, Torres?” she asked sweetly.

He didn’t look back. Just kept walking, muttering something under his breath.

Y/N grinned and turned back to the printer, which had finally, wisely, resumed printing.

“See?” she told it. “Threats and violence works.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The celebration dinner was being held at one of those absurdly fancy restaurants Sam liked to pretend he didn’t enjoy. Everyone was dressed up—dress code enforced, security detail present, real silverware on the table. Y/N hated it already.

But she played along. Mostly.

For once, she wasn’t in her usual crop top and baggy lowrise jeans. She was in white. A silky, soft white slip dress that clung in all the right places and flowed like water when she walked. Her hair was pulled back with little pearl pins, her makeup glowy and minimal—highlight on her cheekbones, lashes curled, lips shiny. She looked like a dream. Like someone you only see once in passing and are never able to forget about.

And then she opened her mouth.

Joaquin was at the bottom of the stairs, standing next to Sam, fully mid sentence when he looked up and saw her.

And immediately forgot how to speak.

She stepped down one stair, then another, moving slow and deliberate, like she was aware of what she was doing to him.

Joaquin’s jaw dropped. Actually dropped. Sam saw it happen and muttered under his breath, “Oh, he’s gone.”

She was glowing. Like an angel. Like someone who’d never sworn in her life, someone who smelled like vanilla and sunshine and didn’t know what a war crime was.

Then she caught Joaquin’s eye, smiled sweetly and said, loud enough for only him and Sam to hear:

“Damn, you look good. If you bend me over in the bathroom later I won’t tell anyone.”

Sam choked on his champagne.

Joaquin’s soul left his body.

His jaw was still hanging open. He blinked like she’d hit him with a tranquilizer dart.

Y/N reached the last stair, grinning as she approached. “What?” she asked innocently. “Too much?”

Joaquin couldn’t find words. Couldn’t find oxygen. He looked her up and down—this glowing, radiant, ethereal menace—and his brain gave up.

“I—” he started, but that’s all he managed before she kissed him on the cheek and walked past him into the room like she hadn’t just made him forget his own name.

Sam put a hand on Joaquin’s shoulder, shaking his head slowly.

“You’re gonna die, man.”

“I already did,” Joaquin murmured, still staring at her. “I died and she’s the angel that dragged me to hell.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Dinner was winding down. Plates cleared, wine poured, and now a low, sultry beat played from the restaurant’s private sound system, coaxing people onto the small dance floor near the patio.

Y/N leaned back in her chair, swirling her wine, smug as ever. She was still glowing, the white silk of her dress catching every candle flicker like it had a spotlight of its own. She’d been floating around all night like she hadn’t completely fried Joaquin’s brain with only one sentence.

She hadn’t so much as looked his way since.

Which was why she jumped a little when Joaquin appeared beside her chair and offered his hand, calm and smooth and casual.

“Dance with me?” he asked.

Y/N raised a brow, lips curling. “Oh? You speak again?”

He didn’t rise to the bait.

Just leaned a little closer and said, low enough for only her to hear, “You’re gonna regret what you said if you say no.”

That—that—made her pause.

Because he wasn’t joking.

His voice was steady, his expression unreadable, and his fingers were still outstretched, waiting. His jaw looked a little too tight. His sleeves were rolled up just right. And that one stupid curl had fallen over his forehead again, like God was personally playing favorites.

Y/N set down her wine. Slid her hand into his.

“Try me.”

The moment they hit the dance floor, she knew she’d messed up.

Joaquin’s hand landed on her waist—not tentative or polite. Firm. Possessive. He pulled her in close, flush against him, and began to move with the music like he’d done this before. Like he’d been waiting.

Y/N blinked up at him, trying to play it cool. “You’re not usually this quiet, Birdboy.”

He didn’t respond.

He just spun her.

Caught her.

Dipped her, slow and smooth and close enough that her thigh brushed his.

And when he pulled her back upright, mouth just barely brushing her ear, he murmured:

“Still thinking about me bending you over in the bathroom?”

Y/N’s breath hitched.

He felt it.

“You know,” he murmured, still moving with the beat, “you talk a lot of game.” He leaned in, voice low, lips just barely brushing her ear. “But I’d love to see you put your money where your mouth is.”

Y/N made a sound that was definitely not a word.

Joaquin pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, smug, steady, and lethal. “What do you say, angel?”

Y/N pulled back slightly to look at him, jaw slack, eyes wide, completely, actually speechless for the second time in her life.

Joaquin smirked.

“Too much?” he echoed her from earlier.

Y/N swallowed hard. “I—I need to sit down.”

Joaquin chuckled low in his throat. “Nah. Dance isn’t over yet.”

And with that, he spun her again—cool, collected, deadly. While Y/N tried to remember how to breathe in silk and heels and shameless attraction.

Somewhere from across the room, Sam muttered into his drink, “If they hook up on government property, I’m filing for early retirement.”

Bucky raised his glass. “Cheers to that.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

bonus!

Joaquin leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, gaze fixed.

“You ever stop working?”

Y/N didn’t look up from the tablet in her hand. “You ever stop staring?”

He laughed, stepping into the room.

She hopped down from the counter as he approached, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall. He followed her gaze, then stepped closer—too close.

“We’ve got fifteen minutes before Sam finds out we stole his access card and breaks the door down.”

Y/N raised a brow, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Fifteen whole minutes?”

“Give or take.”

She sighed—exaggerated and dramatic—then reached for the scrunchie on her wrist and pulled it free. With practiced ease, she swept her hair up, tying it into a messy bun.

“That’s all I need.”

She walked past him toward the empty conference room, hips swaying, fingers brushing his arm as she went.

Just before she disappeared inside, she paused in the doorway and threw him a look over her shoulder.

“You coming, Falcon?”

Joaquin followed, heart pounding, grin blooming.

The door clicked shut behind them.

Sam and Bucky stood exactly where they promised themselves they wouldn’t be. Waiting.

Sam had his arms crossed, already preparing his full force dad voice. Bucky was sipping coffee like this was peak entertainment, grinning way too much for someone witnessing what might legally count as a workplace incident.

“You owe me twenty,” Bucky said. “I told you they wouldn’t make it past fifteen minutes.”

“You bet on them?” Sam asked, horrified.

“No, I bet on him. She’s terrifying. I’d have folded in ten.”

And right on cue, the door creaked open.

Out strolled Y/N.

Not just happy, not just smug. No—glowing. Like she had just ascended a level in life. Her bun was halfway undone, mascara smudged at the corners, and her sweatshirt was somehow inside out. She was chewing gum and grinning like she’d won gold in olympic level chaos.

Behind her?

Joaquin.

Hair completely wrecked. Shirt on backwards. Lipstick prints absolutely everywhere—his jaw, his neck, one hauntingly close to his ear. He looked dazed. Blissed out. Possibly reborn.

Sam blinked. Once. Twice.

“Your shirt’s on backwards,” he said flatly.

“Huh?” Joaquin glanced down, still a little out of it. “Oh.”

Y/N tossed Sam his access card like it was no big deal. “Thanks, boss. Appreciate the loaner.”

She patted his shoulder as she passed and added over her shoulder, “Y’all need better soundproofing, by the way.”

Sam stared into the void.

“I’m gonna need bleach,” he muttered. “For my brain.”

Bucky didn’t even pretend not to enjoy himself. “You think they’ll do this again or was that a one time blackout moment?”

Y/N and Joaquin were already halfway down the hall. She reached up and dragged her thumb along his jaw, smudging the lipstick even worse. He flinched.

“You are actually going to kill me,” Joaquin said weakly.

“Probably,” Y/N replied, all sugar. “But you’ll die smiling.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺

author's note: i need him real bad yall. i came up with this while listening to bed chem by our queen sabrina so i chose the title to honor her. i keep titling oneshots after songs i love it!

guys imagine dancing with joaquin though... i'm unwell.

[justauthoring]

Oblivious Affections.

Request: Could I please request a Luffy x fem Reader where the crew sees a bounty of another pirate and the reader goes on to make comments about how attractive he is which makes Luffy all jealous, thank you! Requested by: Anonymous

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x Straw Hat!F!Reader

A/N: Ummm so my first One Piece fic? Like... of the anime? And it's Luffy???????????? (Not spell-checked as usual)

Word Count: 1,416

"Look at this."

Glancing up at Nami's voice, your brow raises in curious when you see she's holding a wanted poster towards you. A quick glance at her face and you see the slight smirk on her lips, making you hesitate.

"Y/N," she pushes, sighing. "Look."

Hesitating only briefly, you finally reach for the poster. Her smirk widens the second you do, and you're about to ask her what could be so funny about a wanted poster of all things, when you see the person on the wanted poster.

You now understand the reasoning for Nami's smirk and why she'd been so insistent on you looking at it. This pirate, whoever he was, was hot.

"Pittman?" You echo back at her, having finally properly read the name. "And a hundred million berry bounty? I've never even heard of him."

Nami shrugs. "Seems he's new," is all she offers. Then, leaning towards you, her eyes twinkle. "He's easy on the eyes though, no?"

Your cheeks warm faintly in embarrassment, but even you can't deny Nami's right.

"He definitely is," you mumble, letting your eyes drag across his photo once again. They definitely got a good angle of him, too.

"What are you two looking at?"

Looking up at the sound of Robin's soft voice, you find her making her way over to the two of you with a soft, curious smile on her lips. Almost instantly, Nami snatches the poster from your hands and thrusts it in Robin's face.

"Look at how hot this guy is!"

Nami's voice pitches, catching the attention of Sanji and Luffy who'd been nearby, as Robin leans back to get a proper look at the poster.

"Oh," she breathes, an amused smile on her lips. "He's definitely a looker."

Nami pulls back, sighing wistfully. "Why can't we have men like this on our crew?"

"Nami-swan!" Sanji calls, dejected, having caught the tail end of the conversation. He clutches at his chest with a pained expression, falling dramatically to the ground. "You wound me!"

Robin lets out a chuckle as Nami rolls her eyes. You just frown down at Sanji, pitying him.

Or at least you were, until a shadow steps in front of you.

"Let me see!"

Luffy snatches the poster from Nami's hands before she can argue otherwise, ignoring her exclamation of him being rude, as he eyes the poster closely. You watch with a quirk brow, expectantly waiting for him to proclaim excitement at having new potential competition or maybe something along the lines of fighting the guy.

The normal.

But instead, Luffy turns to you, frowning.

"You think he's attractive?"

The question stuns you. Both because it's the last thing you're expecting Luffy to ask you and also because of the mirth hidden beneath his tone. There's something nasty to Luffy's tone; something that is so entirely unlike Luffy whose usually radiating sunshine.

"W-Well, uh..."

You stumble over your words, not really sure what to say. It seems, however, everyone else isn't as surprised as you because Nami, not missing a beat, leans forward and grins mischeviously Luffy's way.

"Oh, Y/N definitely thinks he's attractive," she grins. "Hot, even. Don't you, Y/N?"

Her eyes fall on you as your cheeks burn in embarrassment, which only gets worse when Luffy's frown is focused solely on you once again.

"I-I mean, he is good looking," you mumble meekly.

"I feel like I'm dying..." You hear Sanji mumble from his spot on the ground, still wallowing in his own self despair.

You can't focus on that, however, because Luffy's gaze isn't leaving you. His focus is intense, stepping towards you as you blink back at him, unsure what you've done to upset your captain.

You can only be thankful the whole crew isn't here, because it was embarrassing enough having Robin and Nami present.

(Sanji doesn't count, since he's currently a heart-broken mess on the ground.)

Then, after a moment of silence, you watch as Luffy rips the wanted poster. And not just once -- he rips it down the middle and then continues to rip it, until it's nothing but tiny little shreds.

"Luffy!" Nami complains, as Robin, once again, giggles in amusement, hands to her lips.

Luffy ignores them both. Instead, he steps towards you, again. With barely any space left between the both of you, his face is serious as he meets your gaze.

"What about me?"

Nothing--literally nothing--could've prepared you for that question.

Your face, which had already been flushed in embarrassed, burns even further (if that was possible). Everything turns impossibly silent as everyone, not just you, takes in what Luffy's just asked you.

"Luffy, I--"

He reaches forward, taking your hand in his own. His grip isn't tight or painful, but it's made with purpose. "I asked you, what about me?"

You blink, once, twice and fumble over your words.

"Luffy," you try again, "where is this coming from?"

"You called that guy... Pitiful, or whatever, hot. Do you find me hot?"

Lips parting, no words leave your lips.

"Captain," Robin calls out, "I do believe you're embarrassing our poor seamstress."

Turning to Robin, your gaze is pleading, but you falter when you see, despite her words, she's highly amused by what's happening.

"Yeah, Luffy," Nami calls out, bopping him on the head as Luffy flinches in response. "You can't just ask a lady that."

Though, she finishes with sending you a shit-eating grin and a knowing wink.

So, clearly, neither of them are actually on your side.

"Ow!" Luffy complains, rubbing his head as he finally steps back from you, allowing you to let out a breath of relief. Turning to Nami, he frowns. "What's wrong with me asking Y/N that? I want to know!"

"Idiot," Sanji mumbles, still from the ground but sat up. "You have no tact."

Luffy frowns further. "She thought that guy was attractive and he's the ugliest guy I've ever seen," he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. "So she has to find me attractive. Because I am definitely better looking then him."

Could the ground swallow you whole and save you from this embarrassment?

"Are you jealous, Luffy?" Nami asks, eyes twinkling.

Luffy's head tilts; "jealous?"

"Of that guy?"

By his expression, it's clear Luffy still doesn't understand.

"Captain," Robin calls, "you don't like the fact that Y/N called that guy attractive, right?"

"No," Luffy says without hesitation, shaking his head. "I don't like when Y/N calls any guy attractive."

"Other than you?"

"Other than me," he grins, shrugging as if what he said was nonchalant.

Letting out a cry, your head falls into your hands. "Please stop."

"I do believe we should leave them to figure this out on their own," Robin calls, having some pity on you. "Nami, please help me with Sanji."

Nodding at Robin, Nami sends you one last wink before helping Robin drag Sanji away. You hear his weak protests of leaving 'our idiot captain alone with Y/N-chan', but neither of them heed to his complaints.

Alone, you turn back to Luffy whose already looking at you. There's a beat of silence, and then Luffy steps back towards you.

"You never answered my question."

Sighing, your shoulders fall. "If I answer it, will you leave me alone?"

"I'm not gonna leave you alone but I'll try to be less annoying."

Letting your eyes fall shut, you breathe in sharply, trying to steady your nerves. You knew your captain, it would only get worse if you didn't answer his question and he'd continue to annoy you. Robin had given you some grace by leaving you alone, so you might as well answer before the entire crew is there to face your embarrassment.

"You're more... attractive than Pittman," you mumble, embarrassed.

Almost instantly, Luffy's eyes shine. He jumps towards you, boundless energy as always, and grabs you by the arms; "really?"

You find yourself smiling, despite everything, at his excitement.

"Of course," you oblidge, "you're my captain after all."

Your words are heartfelt, and they mean more than how they seem. Luffy, though, with his usual obliviousness doesn't notice. Instead, he continues to beam up at you, slipping his hand in yours as he beguns to drag you with him.

"I'm so happy," he nods at you. "Let's eat as a celebration."

You let out a snort, rolling your eyes, but let him pull you nonetheless.

Maybe one day you'll be able to tell Luffy how you really feel.

[slytherinshua]

ཐ ཋ　NINE LIVES　( 양정원 )

genre fluff , established relationship , bring the heat back au (obv) , werecat!jungwon x witch!reader   cw some profanity directed at jungwon (but in a joking manner) , not proofread   wc 642   request no   note said i would write this after i wrote brought the heat back almost a year ago :') and i never did until now dkjskd but little blog revival w jungwon!   net @kstrucknet

“Fuckass cat—I told you to not get into my potions when I’m not home, Jungwon,” you muttered, grumping around your brewing room in search of mustard leaves, mugwort, and some of your best catnip. The black cat who was perched on your window sill meowed loudly at you, showing you his disagreement with your attitude. You’re sure he would have been rushing to explain himself and beg for your forgiveness. But, as it was, he had little words at his disposal.

You stirred your cauldron after adding the new ingredients, smiling as the liquid turned a bright purple. A few more incantations and the brew would be complete, and ready for drinking. It was a difficult potion to master, but you had been having to use it often these days. You weren’t sure how many more times you would have to tell Jungwon to stop getting himself into dangerous situations for him to actually listen. 

“It’ll be ready in a few minutes and you’ll be back to normal. No more funny business after this, got it?” you scowled in the general direction of the feline, but only got a slight tail wag in response. You sighed. “I need to have a word with that panther— Niki was it? He’s always dragging you into things, and then I’m left to clean it up.”

The cat hissed.

“That’s right, he is an idiot. And immature. But he’s your friend and you are older. I don’t know how you always end up being the one to get stuck in your feline form. Last time you were almost taken to the vet by that old man who thought you were a stray,” you grinned, remembering the memory fondly. Though, at the time, you had been more panicked by the news. 

Jungwon always managed to give you a fright whenever he wasn’t at home. You’d put up more missing cat posters than you could count over the years, and yet the occasions were still frequent. It was hard to explain to people that you weren’t actually looking for your pet, but your boyfriend. The looks you got were judgier than usual, and you already had a whole town of people wary at the sight of your usual hat and silver jewelry.

To be fair, you had caused the weather incident from a few years back thanks to a brew going awry in your kitchen, but it had all been completely unintentional, and there were only a few damages from the incident. You liked to forget unsavoury encounters, but the residents of the town never forgot who they owed their two weeks of thunderstorm hell to.

It was rare to meet anyone who wasn’t slightly on edge by your very existence. You had a small circle of friends who were freaks just like you in their own way. Some were witches, while others were vampires or werecreatures. Most of them tried to blend in amongst the townspeople—and most succeeded. You kept to yourself, cooped up in your cozy hut with no company except Jungwon. It was how you liked it best. Who needed socializing when you had a cinnamon roll of a boyfriend who occasionally liked to give you heart attacks?

As the potion bubbled to its final plum-like colour, you ladled some out into a dish and set it on the windowsill next to the cat. He purred, settling down to lap it up, and you pressed a kiss to his soft forehead. Within minutes of consuming, the transformation took effect. From a small, silky, black cat to your sharp-eyed, dashingly handsome boyfriend. 

“I’m sorry!” were his immediate first words to you, immediately clinging to your waist. You rolled your eyes, yet a smile was still pushing at the sides of your lips.

“You should be for all the headaches you’ve caused. You’re lucky you have nine lives.”

enhypen taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @cham3li,, @delcakoo,, @kpoprhia,, @weird-bookworm,, @cha3w0n-hearts,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,, @amara-mars,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @sxmmerberries,, @nicholasluvbot,, @dimplewonie,, @50-husbands,, @yudaies,, @stannwjnss,, @gong-fourz,, @nonononranghaee,, @forever-atiny,, @stantxtforabetterlife,, @loserlvrss,, @lexeees,, @voikiraz,, @cupidslovearrows,, @hyukabean,, @i03jae,, @somerandomf1fan,, @lilbrorufr,, @tmrwsuns,, @hanwoolvhs,, @yujiswave

[the-s1lly-corner]

Being new to Gardenview

Aka "I had fun writing the long slender mansion posts that I wanted to do something similar with other fandoms

Note that requests are still limited to 3-4 characters max

Notes: reader is gn, toon reader, vague what the readers interests are unless implied otherwise for a character, you're freshly baked, pre game, no pebble or coal, you came around Christmas for the holiday toons anyone else can be any time of year, platonic for everyone since you're brand spanking new, long post, written on mobile, couldn't tag everyone but everyone is here minus pebble and coal

CWs: none

DANDY

He's probably the first one to greet you, honestly. He's like... THE toon. The show is named after him, he's the poster boy after all!

Surely he won't be at least a little annoyed that someone already beat him to the punch.... right...? Right??

He's a very busy toon, not only is he a main but he's also again, THE main. Getting to talk to him for more than a minute while there's visitors is nearly impossible... but he'll be sure to drop by your room for a hello once everything calms down for the day! ...maybe...

ASTRO

It's not that he's overstimated- mostly- it's just that he's tired by the time the day is over with... so it'll take him a while to approach you to welcome you... and he may seem out of it if you approach before he's ready

He's nice! A little accidentally... distant.. but he truly is happy to see a new toon added to gardenviews lineup. Who wouldn't be happy to have a new potential friend?

Ignore how he's seemingly nodding off where he stands... ts not that you're boring. He's simply a little sleepy...! You'll have to get used to that..!

VEE

Oh cool, a new toon. She's not going to be all over you but she's not going to ignore you if you come say hi. Small talk before she's swept away by the visitors.. or you're snatched away

If you seem like the smart type she might just invite you onto her show... she's not usually so quick to let someone on but what the hell! Who wouldn't want a new face to spice things up!

She is quick to set some boundaries up of you're pushing buttons or pose any risk to her techy bits

SHELLY

She doesn't let the fact you didn't notice her at first effect her... at least not outwardly. She's more forgiving in this instance anyways, you did just arrive afterall

Gives you a nice welcome- she's just happy to have someone new to talk to... if you ever want to have a nice camera hang out she's your girl to go to..! Just.. don't forget that she's just a call away..!

There's more time to talk to her during the day due to her being not as popular as the other Mains :( or even some of the non mains...

SPROUT

Oh heeeeeeeey you! He's probably already heard about you! If not from another toon than through one of the handlers!

He's not gonna be all over you but he's at least going to make you feel welcome enough- at least a normal amount of welcoming! He doesn't strike me as the type to be overly buddy buddy with a new toon just because they've just come out of.... wherever the toons are made...

He does seem to perk up a little if you express an interest in the ktichen... common ground can go far!

BOXTEN

It takes him a minute to approach you... he's gotta work himself up to it- he's not the boldest toon out there.. and he seems a little proud of himself that he didn't stumble over his words...! He will be overthinking his first impression later that night though...

The fact you're getting swarmed also puts him off a little... it's just so many people- it's overwhelming. Makes him wonder how he pulled through the initial hype when he was new.. silently sympathizes with you- tried to quietly give you reassurance from across the room but the voice in the back of his mind tries to tell him it looks like he's mocking you

He doesn't really talk.. not really a rambler either, especially with an acquaintance... but he does take note of any questions you have and tries to direct you to who could possibly help you once it becomes clear that he might not be the best fit

BRIGHTNEY

Her light burns a little brighter when she catches a glimpse of you... she didn't think she'd be seeing you so soon!

Wastes no time in walecoming you to gardenview, and hardly any time to bring up the boom club to see if you're interested... if you are, great! If not, that's okay!

If you ever need a hand to keep track of what you need to do and how things work around here she's more than happy to draw up a list for you and give you a hand where she can!

CONNIE

Oh she probably knows about you already... she's sneaky like that...! She's just trying to get a feel for your vibe before revealing herself. Totally. Definitely. Mhm!

She can't help herself- it's always so fun spooking new toons who don't know about her ability yet- she doesn't mean to be.. well, mean..! It's just funny!

She's got like... details on everyone! She's your gal to go for some gossip or to figure out what everyone else's deal with... though she may be biased against/for some toons so it's best to do your probing yourself to form your own opinions...

COSMO

He doesn't carry Boxtens shyness so he is more likely to approach you within a shorter time frame if you end up in the same area! He may trip over his words but that's just because he wants to make a good impression..!

If you ever need a little pick me up you can find him in the kitchen! Alongside Sprout and maybe Boxten-- and if it's the holidays ginger too...! It's a real nice place to hang out that's not too overstimulating-!

Similar to Boxten he will attempt to guide you to anyone who could help you with anything- except he's likely to physically bring you to someone or someone to you than simply... telling

FINN

Bold of you to assume he's not going to open up with a joke. "OH it's so nice to sea you," he'd wave but he wasn't sure if you'd he able to see him over the stream of visitors!

If you can bare through his constant puns he's actually not that bad. He's nice. Passionate about his interests- and of course he's going to be asking about yours!

Moderate popularity with the visitors so you can hang around and talk to him when you're not getting swarmed. He does share a good laugh about it with you- you'll get used to the attention... or find your footing once the hype dies

FLUTTER

Oh she's right by your side the second it looks like you need a breather from the swarm of visitors- you can come decompress with her until you need to get back out there..!

She's kind... a good listener. You're not sure how you can understand her when she's yet to speak a single word but you feel she's already been questioned about that a lot.. you don't want to possibly pester her with it

She lingers around you until closing to help you get through the day and the sea of visitors!

GIGI

She's friendly..! Really she is..! It's just that freshly baked toons can sometimes be fun to mess with... and she's taken a page out of Connie's book... she's not going to be a bully but she won't be able to help herself- telling you that you should totally do (x) which definitely won't make you look at least a little silly

You... might want to keep an eye on your belongings. She's usually not mean enough to nab someone else's things... maybe.. but by God the episode where she had to learn that lesson only slightly shook that habit

If you don't meet her through Connie, you'll be introduced to Connie through Gigi... as well as some other toons!

GLISTEN

Hes.. nice enough! Sure he may be... well himself.. but he's not going to ignore you if you approach him for help... though he is just a hint envious of the crowd you've made for yourself- but he's not going to fault you for it. Makes him miss the days where he was brand new and had all the attention

He's at least a little interested in finding out what your deal is... even if he's waiting to properly introduce himself- and he's definitely going to make a little show of it to make sure you don't forget his name!

Not intense.. but he does mellow out over the next few times you bump into each other once the desire to impress the newbie backs off a bit

GOOB

He's like an excited puppy when you meet each other! A new toon! Yay! A new friend, hopefully?

He's very physical- he doesn't mean to make you uncomfortable... if he is making you uneasy just say the word and he'll back off! He's not the best with subtle cues...

Oh oh oh you've gotta come with him to go meet his sister! Oh oh and you've gotta meet- you're going to meet so many toons through him...

LOOEY

Oh! New guy (/gender neutral)! He... actually doesn't lean into the clown act during an introduction. At least he doesn't rely on it- he definitely slips in a few jokes here and there if there's time but he's more focused on getting names exchanged and overall having a quick chat before he needs to go back to performing with the rest of his circus act

He's more than happy to let you come watch those acts! It'll give you a place to unwind after such a busy day! Or... if something calmer is more your style, he'll direct you to other toons

Generally a sweetheart- his cheerful demeanor comes in handy when meeting someone new- child and toon alike!

RAZZLE & DAZZLE

POPPY

Wastes zero time in introducing herself- even if you don't end up being friends in the future she's going to make sure you at least have fun on your first day

She introduces you to other toons as you come across them- she's real... bubbly. Pun only partly intended! She's going to make sure you meet just about everyone- or as many toons as possible!

And of course, she makes it clear that you're always welcome to come hang out with her and her group of gals- she'll make sure to put in a good word for you!

Similar reactions different energies! Razzle is more upbeat and open to talking. He tends to take the lead... not that he doesnt let dazzle speak of course. Dazzle also greets you! He's just lower energy

You're always welcome to their stage... or their room... if you express an interest in stories or books, Dazzle may tell you about Brightneys book club! Maybe he can help you get in... will be embarrassed if you tell him you already knew about the club

You do end up making a lot of friends through each of them- they both have their own groups of friends so double the introductions!

RODGER

A warm and polite welcome! He may ask a few questions... ice breakers mostly... and also because, well... you know...

You may or may not be spared from an interrogation- really it depends on how guarded you are with new people... and what all is going on at the moment- hes not the most popular toon but you're new... you're definitely going to be swarmed until the hype dies down

You... get the feeling it's going to be hard to keep secrets to yourself for long with him around... maybe... surely he'd respect boundaries and privacy (he does!) (At least he fully does when there's no mystery that may or may not put others in danger)

SHRIMPO

SCRAPS

She's not as... excitable or cheerful as her brother. She's definitely still cheery but she's more reserved about it. If you need a break from the visitors she can try to snag some away with the promise of arts and crafts so you're not all smothered

Arts and crafts is actually a gold way to open up to someone- a great ice breaker activity! So of course she's also going to invite you to come make something alongside her brother and toodles! It's a nice wind down activity after closing and before bedtime

Give her some time and she'll make you a welcome gift!

You hardly get a word in before he yells at you that he hates you already... you unfortunately don't know that that's his whole... thing.. so you don't know not to take it to heart or to not be confused

No like seriously what did you do you hardly introduced yourself- he cut you off after the first word... did you look at him wrong??

You quickly find out that he's just a hater, though... he's very open about his hatred for everything

TEAGAN

It doesn't take long at all for her to invite you to have some tea with her once the day calms down and all the visitors have left... it's all to get to know you better and make you feel more comfortable!

If you're comfortable with it, they will invite more toons... it'll give you a chance to get to know more of them! But if not... Teagans more than happy to just have it be the two of you

So so kind and patient with you as you get the hang of how everything works. If you ever need someone to talk to as you adjust to gardenview she's more than happy to let you vent to them

TOODLES

TISHA

It's not that she meant to ignore you... it's just that sometimes the visitors can be a little... messy... and it drives her nuts! But rest assured she will make it right once gardenview closes for the day and everything is cleaned up- and with Tishas speed and efficiency it won't take long after closing for her to stop by your new room!

Pleased that your room is- at least for now as you've yet to have a proper chance to make it a living space- neat and tidy... if you ever need a hand with things let her know... she'll at least let you know where the cleaning supplies are

You quickly pick up on a lot of tricks to get stains out and keep everything looking spick n span... Tisha is more than a little proud of herself that she's rubbed off on you

She's another easy one to get along with! There aren't many toons that Toodles outright dislikes or doesn't get along with

Talks... a lot... but that's to be expected from a kid.

You learn everything and nothing. The kid who's got dirt on everyone but doesn't have the mind to realize that it's dirt. Drops it randomly in conversation and moves on to something else like it was nothing... it's a little funny..

BOBETTE

Wastes no time at all in trying to become your friend- what's your favorite color? Music? When did you join Gardenview? What's your gimmick? She wants to know!

She's definitely gonna give you an extra gift this year for Christmas! Think of it as a "welcome to Gardenview!" Housewarming style gift! She WILL be watching you like a hawk to figure out what you like... as well as lightly interrogating everyone else for ideas

Genuinely so easy to befriend her. Not very judgy, very cheerful.. come decorate with her

GINGER

Oh... shy... she's shy... she doesn't avoid you but the first few conversations with you is... dry. Awkward. She really doesn't mean to make it that way it's just that she wasn't expecting to meet a new toon after being taken out of... where ever they keep the holiday toons

Not to mention you have a limited time to get her to warm up to you before having to put things on hold until next year... she really does try to befriend you or at least get to know you...!

Come join her with Cosmo and Sprout in the kitchen! You don't even have to bake..! You can help her decorate..! She becomes a ramblerer if you get her talking about an interest!

RUDIE

It's a Christmas miracle! A new toon has arrived! And he's definitely going to treat you like a gift... even if you were added to the toon roster before Christmas..

Not that he'd care all that much, a miracle is a miracle! And he's going to make sure you know his beliefs! Overall a joy to talk to even if he's caught up in the holidays

He is a little sad when he has to leave when the holidays end, but he promises he'll come talk to you the second he can again! He'll tell you all about what he did when he was away! Not much happens, but...!

[sunnysidevans]

Somewhere Between California and Texas - J.Seresin.

Summary: When your best friend and her fiance have co-bachelor parties and you thought you were going to be the only single one but one green eyed aviator saves the day - his specialty.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

a/n: this was a request I received but I received two requests that were almost identical so in summary the request was in summary this. I hope whoever they are that requested this likes it because actually I think rom-com type fics are my thing because I LOVED writing this!

The airport was jammed packed for 7am on a Tuesday morning.

You stood against the windows, watching the planes landing and taking off.

You thought booking an early flight would get you out of the San Diego International Airport a lot quicker than something later in the day.

Sighing, you notice a seat opens at the end of the row, quick to rush towards it just for someone to beat you to it and sit down. You gasp, looking at the man who grins.

“Seriously?” you scuff, looking him up and down watching the smirk grow on his lips, twirling the toothpick between his teeth.

“Mine now sweetheart” he winks.

He watches the way you sulk back over to the window and sit down. Within a few minutes the overhead speaker picked up with a screech.

“Now boarding for flight 7552 to Austin now boarding, if you need assistance or are in a wheelchair this is for you, we also invite any military personnel to make their way to the gate”

You watch as the man stands up from his seat and makes his way to the gate. You should’ve known he was military.

Finally shoving your bag in the overhead bin, you sit down in your seat with a heavy sigh, “howdy” you look over at the voice, narrowing your eyes.

There he sat, across the aisle with a smirk.

“Hello” you reply sarcastically and pull the headphones back over your ears and sit back. You can feel his eyes watching you as you adjust in the seat. This was gonna be a long flight.

“Welcome to Austin!” the flight attendant grinned as you exited the plane, quick to grab your suitcase and make your way outside.

As you are coming down the escalator you are greeted with your best friend's grin and a huge sign on a pink poster board “(Y/N)”.

You laugh, rushing to her with a squeal, hugging her tightly. “Hi!” She laughs, linking your arms together and walking towards the door.

Your best friends, Jean and Johnny, were getting married in a few weeks and it was bachelorette weekend.

“Johnny is so excited you are here” she smiles as you chuckle, squeezing her hand. “I doubt that” you grin, packing your suitcase in the back of her car.

As you close the trunk your eyes connect with Military man once again who takes two fingers and salutes towards you with a wink.

Rolling your eyes, you climb into the passenger seat of Jean’s car. “I need food and some coffee” you groan and fall back into the seat. “How was the flight?” she questions as you shrug, “a normal one, though I got sat by this guy who practically pushed me out of the way for a seat” she scoffs, “that dick!”. You laugh, nodding along with her.

“Low and behold he is on the flight in the aisle across from me” she laughs as you shake your head. “I couldn’t believe the entitlement!” she nods in agreement.

Making your way into your best friend's home, you can hear Johnny yell from upstairs. “Jeanie?!” you grin as she nods, you raise the pitch of your voice, yelling back to him, “yes sweetie?!”.

He laughs as he makes his way down the steps, a grin on his face. “Hi (y/n)!” he rushes down the steps to come and give you a hug.

Johnny was a military man himself, stationed here now for the last six years but previously in San Diego where the three of you met.

“How’re you doin Johnny?” you smile, crouching to the floor to love on the dogs who ran up to you excitedly. “Great!” he grins, looking at you and then back at his fiance who smiles. “So what's the game plan?” you ask, sipping on your coffee as you look between the two of them. “I have a couple friends coming in still” Johnny notes, sipping his own cup. You nod, smiling as you turn to Jean.

“I still have Natalie and Anna coming but other than that just you guys” you nod eagerly with a smile growing. “I haven’t seen either of them in so long” they both nod, “they are also both bringing their spouses…” Johnny trails off. “Oh” you look down at the steaming cup of coffee and nod. “No problem!” you add, plastering the smile on your face.

Attending weddings alone has become a common thing for you. A combo bachelor party was gonna be no different.

“(y/n)..” Jean speaks first after the first few minutes of silence. “It's fine jeanie!” you shake your head, sipping on the last of the coffee and standing.

“I think i am gonna catch a nap” you mumble, walking towards the kitchen as the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it” Johnny stands and makes his way to the door, as it opens you can hear the cheers of him and you guess one of his friends.

“Jeanie! Jake’s here!” Johnny states from the breezeway. You stop short coming from the kitchen as the man takes his hat off and a grin grows on his face.

“Howdy” he nodded towards you, your eyes were wide.

Jean speaks first,“This is (y/n), my best friend!” she grins as you nod slowly.

Military man was standing in your best friend's house, which now has a name, Jake. “oh we’ve met” he notes with a growing smile, you nod with a sigh. “Hello” you mumble walking past him and up the stairs. Jake grins from his place as he watches you go up the steps.

The table was full on both sides. Night had fallen and everyone for both parties arrived. The restaurant was loud as you sat secluded in a corner of the table, beside Jake, who you have now learned was also the only single person for this weekend.

“So everyone” Johnny stands, beer in hand and a grin on his face. “I am so excited to have you all here!” he continues, “the weekend plans are of course tomorrow we head to a longhorns game, it's only honorary” he grins at the cheers from his friends.

“And we will see how we feel the next few days, tomorrow is a big day for the Longhorns!” He holds his beer out as everyone else follows. You sip the water and slouch in your chair. “So, you’re the only single friend of jeans huh?” Jake questions from beside you as you sigh, looking over at him.

“Unfortunately, they just call me ‘the single one’ in the friend group” he nods with a hum, “don’t worry I have the same” he chuckles. “Maybe i will find myself a nice cowboy or something” you grumble with a chuckle as he grins, “why look? I found you one” he smirks, sipping his beer as he turns to his left, continuing the conversation with Scott, another groomsman.

Jean grins from her end of the table, beside Johnny with a thumbs up. You shake your head with a sigh, smiling at the waitress who was beside you with your plate of food. You can’t help but feel Jake’s green eyes lingering as you turn to your food.

+

A sea of orange filled the stands of Texas Memorial Stadium. You grin as you follow behind the group as everyone who passed by had a kind smile. Jake followed beside you in his own orange jersey, brown cowboy hat perched on his head.

“Alright everyone, this is our box so we can order food and drinks everything we want here” Jean grins around the box at the group of her friends, you smile nodding and making your way to sit down on one of the couches. “So, how’re ya doin?” Jean sits beside you within a few minutes, smiling. “I’m fine” you look over at your best friend with raised brows trying to read the look on her face.

“Are you sure?” she questions, thanking Johnny as he sets a glass of wine in her hands. “Yes, I am sure” you look at her as she nods, sitting back against the cushions.

“I know this is awkward for you being ya know, the only single one” she mumbles while sipping her wine. You shrug, sitting back and watching out the windows at the team warming up.

“I’m fine Jean” you snap and stand from the couch and decide to go and look around the stadium.

You can hear the cheers of the crowds as the first whistle is heard and the game begins. 

“You know it's almost disrespectful to only be wearing a plain orange shirt” you turn at the sound of the voice, smiling at Jake. He has a smirk on his lips, not condescending but almost, teasing.

“I didn’t come prepared” you smile, looking back through the merchandise table. “Pick one” he grins, watching as you look through the table of shirts and sweatshirts.

“What?” you look at him with a raised brow, shirt in hand. “Is that your pick?” he asks as you hold the orange shirt in your hand, a small longhorn logo on the front, the state of Texas on the back.

“I like this one yes” you trail off as he takes it from your hand and makes his way to the woman who grinned behind the register. “Is that all for you dear?” her southern drawl was heavy as he nodded, smiling.

“Jake!” rushing over to him you try slapping the card out of his hand as he shakes his head, handing it to the woman. “Nope, i will be purchasing your first piece of texas longhorn merchandise” he smirks, taking his card back and shoving it in his pocket.

“Would you like me to cut the tag off honey?” the older woman asks, looking at you. Nodding, you take the shirt from her once the tags are off. “Have a nice day you two” she waves as you both thank her, walking back towards the skyboxes.

“You gonna put it on?” Jake stops by the restrooms as you blush, “I will meet you upstairs”.

The room cheers as Jake, the resident Texan makes his way back in the skybox.  Jean stands quickly rushing to him, ”did you see (y/n)?”.

Jake nods, reaching out to give her arm a reassuring squeeze. “Why, what's wrong?” he asks as she sighs, pushing her hair out of her face, a sign of stress for Jean.

“I sat with her, I can tell she’s a bit down in the dumps about being the only person single, other than you” Jake can’t help his eye roll but she continues, “I should know better than to press but she snapped at me and walked out” she sighs.

“She’s fine Jean” he squeezes her shoulder reassuringly as you make your way back in, t-shirt on. “There you are!” she rushes over to you, hugging you tightly. You stumble slightly, catching her and hugging her back with furrowed brows.

“I’m okay Jeanie” you mumble with a chuckle as she shakes her head. “I got worried, this is a big place, and i want you here, with me” she takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. “Jeanie, it’s okay, I'm fine, I just needed to step away” she nods, noticing the smile on your lips, different than before but there.

She makes her way beside Johnny as you stand beside Jake, both sharing knowing smiles.

“So, wait what does this mean now?” you ask, standing by the window as both teams are standing on the field. “The games in overtime” Jake mumbles beside you, hands on his hips as you look over at him.

“Right, but why are they just standing there?” he chuckles, looking over at you then back out the window. “They are doing the coin toss, like at the beginning of the game” he watches the realization on your face as you nod. Jean sits behind the two of you, watching the conversation between you.

“Seems to be getting along” Anna mumbles beside her, her own husband moving to stand beside Jake. “Thank god, the beginning seemed pretty tense” Jean mumbles as she watches you two.

Slipping through the door to go out into the open seats, standing on the balcony, Jake follows behind you.

The cheers were so loud, you couldn’t believe it as you looked around you. “This is Texas” Jake grins,looking over at you,sharing the same smile, this time Jake can’t help but notice that it reaches your eyes.

The end of the game was even better than the whole experience, walking beside the group you notice all the people exiting the stadium are cheering with grins on their faces. Many smile at you as they pass. Jake is beside you then, nudging you gently. “So, did you enjoy your first Longhorns game?” he asks as you chuckle, nodding.

“I actually did, I may not have known much of what was going on but I did my best” he grins, watching as the group walks ahead of you two. “I love how” you trail off, trying to think of the right words, “it seems so homey” he nods hands in his pockets. “Are you staying with the love birds?” Jake questions as everyone gets into the packed car, thankfully you all Ubered to the stadium.

You nod, sitting in the back of the ford expedition. The car ride is then silent, Jake notices the way you shivered slightly, he pulls the orange jacket off his shoulders, putting it over yours.

Looking up at him, you smile and pull your arms through it, leaning against him as you two were the only ones sober in the vehicle. 

The green numbers on the nightstand are almost haunting as they continue to softly tick. You had been home now for hours but still couldn’t sleep. The soft buzz of your phone pulls you from your fifth time counting the ceiling tiles.

Unknown: please don’t question how I got your number and please don’t find this creepy at all but I can’t sleep and wondered if you were awake?

you smile but then the three bubbles show up again.

It's Jake, should’ve clarified

You giggle.

You: thank god for the clarification I was terrified someone was haunting me down

Biting your lip before responding again,

do you know good places to eat at this hour?

You watch the bubbles pop up and back down before a message comes through,

Be ready in 15

Standing on the front porch of your best friend's home, you watch the cars pass down the street. You did not expect this to be the way this trip was going, you did not expect the man who stole your seat in the airport to be pulling up in his Ram truck and honking to pull you out of your daydream.

Skipping down the steps you rush to the passenger side door, which the driver side door opens before your hand reaches the handle.

“Negative ma’am” he grins, opening the door for you, the running boards coming down for you to step in. “We never let a lady open their own doors” Jake adds as you smile, looking him up and down in his sweatpants and long sleeve.

“Have you ever been to Texas before?” Jake asks in the dead of night, the streets are quiet but also still buzzing from the Longhorns win. “Only a few times, I came down when Jean and Johnny first moved here” you look over at him as he nods eyes back forward on the road.

“I feel like you haven’t even seen the city!” he adds enthusiastically. 

The city was still bright as you and Jake drove through the streets eventually making it down back roads. “Jake!” you gasp, pointing to the horses in the fields, it was now almost 5 am, the sun rising slowly.

He pulls to the side of the road to let you out excitedly, you rush to the fence with your hand out to let the brown horse sniff it.

Jake watches from behind you, a smile on his face. “That’s Finn” He adds, arms crossed over his chest as you turn to him, “what?” you ask as he nods.

“Finnegan, he’s my horse actually” Jake smiles as the horse huffs out against your hand and lets you continue to pet him. He nuzzles his snout into your palm as you smile wider.

“What do you mean he’s your horse?” you question over your shoulder as Jake moves beside you. “This is my family's land, our ranch is just around the corner” he grins as you smile, watching the way Finn reacts to Jake, nibbling on his jacket.

“Hey now” Jake laughs, gently moving his snout away from his sleeve. “Can we go horseback riding?” you question after a few minutes of silence, “wanna?” he asks as you nod eagerly like a little kid on christmas. Jake notices the way your eyes light up at the idea. “Alright, c’mon” he grins, leading you to the truck to get back in.

The barn was quiet in the early hours of the morning, Finn stood in his stall as Jake threw the saddle over his back. Standing in the doorway of the barn you watch as the sun is slowly peeking behind the clouds.

"You gonna help me over there?” Jake questions as you turn to face him, he stands in the stall beside Finns beside another horse, all black with a hint of brown on his snout.

“This is Percy” you smile, walking to him slowly. Percy approaches you slowly as you hold your hand out to him, he happily nuzzles into your hand. “Lets saddle em up” Jake grins, walking to the tack room and grabbing a saddle for you. Rushing behind him he pulls the saddle off the shelf. “I’ve never done this before” he grins, walking back to the stall where you left Percy. He huffs as you help Jake toss the saddle over his back, reaching to put the strap under his belly.

Jake took over then as you sat back on the bale of hay. You ignored the buzzing of your phone in your purse as Jake's voice pulled you from your thoughts, “You ready?” Jake asks as you turn to face him, Finn stood beside him, his reins in Jake’s hands as Percy stood on the other side of him.

You nod, walking to him, taking the reins of Percy, he begins following your lead. Jake watches as you make your way to him, hands on his hips, “you want some help up there?” he asks as you nod shyly.

Jake puts his leg out and hands out towards you, “step up on my knee and I will help you the rest of the way” you look between him and the horse before Percy huffs heavily.

“Hold onto the horn, it will help when you swing your leg over,” Jake encourages as you reach up and hold onto the horn, his hands on your waist as he hoists you up into the saddle. You giggle, adjusting in the seat and running your fingers through Percy’s mane.

The sun had fully risen by the time you and Jake made it out on the trail. You couldn’t believe it. “It's so gorgeous” you mumble beside him as he looks over at you, “yeah? A texas sunrise is perfect” he agrees as you both stop on the hillside. Percy and Finn both huffing at the standstill, “Jake?” he hums in response as you look over at him.

“Thank you for making this trip really memorable” he grins. “I need to make any Austin trip memorable” he replies, grinning as a peaceful silence falls between you both.

“I guess we should head back” you sigh as he nods.

“Race ya!” you grin, rushing by him on Percy, squealing loudly. “Hey! No fair you got a head start!” he laughs behind you, clicking his teeth to rush after you.

+

Sliding the shade up beside you, the sunny skies of California greets you.

Smiling shyly, you watch as the beaches slowly come into view, the world of California becoming more than just a little speck in the sky.

“Welcome to San Diego International, we hope you enjoy your stay” you smile shyly at the flight attendant, making your way through the terminal. A weekend away from San Diego was more than enough for you. Standing at baggage claim you sigh heavily. You knew the amount of work was waiting for you in the office tomorrow.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling it out, you smile,

Jeanie: did you make it home okay?

smiling, you typed a quick reply.

You: yes jeanie i did, now please go and finalize all them wedding details!

You smile at the love reaction to the message. Making your way out the airport you can’t help the lingering feeling maybe Jake was there too, collecting his baggage.

You did travel together before but your flights home were different. You made your way to the long term parking, adjusting the Texas Longhorn t-shirt on your shoulders.

After being home for a couple of days, you make your way through the office doors, briefcase in hand and you can hear the cheers of your colleagues.

“She’s back!” your assistant, Andi cheers as you smile. “Hello hello” you laugh walking past her to make your way into your office, stopping at the vase on your desk.

“What’s that?” you question, setting the briefcase in the chair,approaching your desk. “I don’t know” Andi mumbles as she smiles, “they were delivered early this morning” she adds.

Reaching for the card you pluck it off, opening it.

Have a great first day back, don’t ask how I found out where you work or that it was your first day back ;), J

you smile, shutting the card. “I know where they are from” you mumble, smiling at the wildflowers in the vase. She nods, making her way out of the office and shutting the door gently.

Reaching for your phone, you smile and quickly type out the message.

You: Stalkerish much? The flowers are beautiful, thank you

you see the little ‘read’ before the ellipsis came and went. 

“You are awfully smiley” Coyote notes as Jake looks up from his phone, setting it beside him on the chair in the common room. “Eh” he shrugs as Rooster and Bob sit down on the couch across from them. “No i noticed it, it's been going on for a couple days” Bob notes as he sighs.

“He met someone” Phoenix mumbles behind her oatmeal, sitting beside Rooster with a smirk. “You did?” Coyote snaps as Jake sighs, “I mean, I did” he nods as the group oos and ah’s. “Are we gonna meet her?!” Fanboy questions as Jake shrugs with a smirk.

“Who knows?” He stands and makes his way past the group, “now if you excuse me, I am gonna go start working on some flight plans” he walks out the room as the group cheers at the slight blush on his cheeks but a smirk on his face.

He had a plan. 

The office was quiet. All the lights were off except for your office and Andi’s desk where she worked on her own filing of cases. The elevator doors open and she thinks nothing of it as the cleaners were on their way in for the evening.

“Excuse me” Andi looks up from her desk, eyes widening at the man in front of her. Stood in his flight suit, Jake grins, hands in his pockets as she takes her glasses off.

“Do you know where I could find (y/n) (y/l/n)?” he questions as she looks at him, blinking. “Uh, she stepped out quickly but her office is there, can I ask who you are?” she questions as he smiles. “My name's Jake, can I wait for her there?” he motions to the office doors as she nods.

He makes his way inside, smiling as he notices how homey your office was, looking through the photos. “Andi, please go home” he perks up at the sound of your voice with a grin, he stands, making his way to the middle of the room. “I have my own work” he hears Andi argue as you shake your head, “please go home, we can work more tomorrow” after a few minutes of debate, Andi sighs.

You push the door open, heels skidding on the carpet floor. Jake stands with a sheepish smile on his lips, hands in his pockets.

“Hi,” he grins, “jake?” you question. “Oh my god” you rush to him, arms around his neck as you hug him tightly. “What are you doing here?!” you pull away from him with wide eyes, “I felt one weekend in Austin was not enough and needed to see you again" he smiles at the blush on your cheeks.

+

The bass from the bar could be heard for miles as you sat beside Jake in his Jeep. He climbs out and makes his way to your side, hand held out to help you out of the vehicle.

“Welcome to the hard deck my dear” he grins, hand on the small of your back as the two of you make your way inside.

You and Jake had been seeing each other now exclusively for a few weeks and he was ready to introduce you to the Dagger Squad.

The bar was quiet still for the early hours of the night. “Hangman!” the voice yells, Jake's hand reaches for yours, “my friends are overbearing okay?” he warns as you nod slowly, “okay” you chuckle, lacing your fingers with his and follow behind him.

“Look who finally decided to join us!” Rooster shouts with a smile, eyes falling beside Jake to you. Standing beside Jake you slightly move behind him, looking around you as you feel multiple sets of eyes on you.

“Funny Rooster” Jake comments as he looks over at you, “guys, this is (y/n)” you look over then, smiling at the group as Jake introduces each aviator one by one.

Phoenix, you learn is Natasha stands and holds a hand out to you, “we appreciate your service” you giggle, shaking her hand. “Well, I appreciate yours” you giggle, sitting between her and Jake.

Within minutes the two of you hit it off.

You feel a gentle tap on your shoulder as the song on the jukebox changes, you look up at Jake who grins. The jukebox begins playing The Righteous Brothers, You’ve lost that lovin feeling.

You giggle, looking at him with furrowed brows, “you owe me a dance” he motions you over, “c’mon” he grins as you take his outstretched hand, standing and following him.

You giggle as he begins singing along to you, “you’ve lost that lovin feelin”. You giggle, arms around his neck as his hands fall to your waist, grin on his lips. “We really need to thank Jean and Johnny” he mumbles against your forehead as you lean into him, “why's that?” he grins as the two of you sway to the music.

“They brought me you, even though you were here in San Diego right under my nose” he whispers in your ear as you blush, leaning your forehead against his shoulder.

“Hey” he encourages you to look up at him, he smiles and reaches out cupping your cheek. “I mean it” he adds as you smile up at him.

“All it took was traveling 1,154 miles to Austin Texas” you smile as he chuckles, “between California or Texas, i choose to spend it with you” he grins, “even though you pushed me out of the way for a seat?” he rolls his eyes playfully, “okay beside that” you smile.

“You made texas so enjoyable and now you make my life here enjoyable” he grins, leaning down to connect your lips, pulling your face closer to him.

Standing on your tippy toes to meet him closer, his lips tasted of the michelob ultra and a hint of the mint gum he was chewing earlier.

Pulling away from him slowly you smile, forehead against his as he grins. “I’d find you again between here and texas all over again” he whispers as you smile, “you big softy” he grins connecting your lips again.

Maybe being the only single friend in the group wasn’t as horrible as you thought.

if you enjoyed this fic and would like to read anything else - you can find that here.

if you requested this fic, thank you! I hope I have done some justice to what you requested as I took FOREVER on it. I enjoy writing Jake so much - keep the requests coming I LOVE them!

[staravyz]

︖﹖ㅤㅤRandom Oddly Specific HCs

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ❕️ㅤclick 4rules—4masterlist

ㅤㅤ🔭ㅤㅤ—ㅤ(dr. stone) ishigami senkuu x reader

ㅤ﹑tags ... x reader/headcanons/super ranom/odd/lowk procrastinating everything else so pls take this/platonic or romantic/may make a continuation... maybe/short

ㅤ౨ৎㅤ—ㅤa/n﹕where did everyone in the dr stone fandom go.... it's so quiet and lonely and i feel embarrassed being like one of the only x reader writers left........😰😰😣😣😣

dates are usually never planned, senku just coincidentally accidentally surprisingly leads you to the arcade or a restaurant while you're on a walk together

study dates feel like a tutoring lesson except the tutor (senku) is a college level professor

OR he's rambling and info dumping while you sit and look pretty 👅

he's actually allergic to verbally apologizing yeah

type of person to bring you apology fruit if he knows he actually messed up

if not, he's gonna be stubborn and dismiss the situation entirely so he isn't distracted by something irrelevant

went through a multilingualism phase and randomly knows how to speak decently in foreign languages because he studied how some of them work (if you're multilingual, he definitely studied yours (also this is self projection because i'm a linguistics nerd))

probably dreams about numbers idk

walked around the playground when he was a kid memorizing his times tables up to 24 instead of socializing (me too)

has complex math techniques he made up that actually work

has 16 different emails

always has gum in his backpack

abacus warrior

made his own cypher for fun one time

watches scientists do experiments on youtube or minecraft while he eats

would be one of those build a boat engineers on roblox

a fan of thrill and the feeling of adrenaline

will go on amusement park rides with you and joke about loose screws and the probability of dying (he's lying)

i think it's canon he's a freak.

over a hundred items in his amazon wishlist

"is it legal to ____" several times in his search history

has a poster of the periodic table on his wall

pulls up with a thick winter coat on the first day of autumn i'm joking

enjoys sunsets

probably really wants a 3d printer or he already has one

not financially aware at all

clarifies with you that if he ever upsets you, just tell him straight up, it's troublesome to keep quiet about your problems

his brain multitasks. that's canon from how he counted the seconds for 3700 years. meaning, he probably listened to gossip all the time in school

"and after i literally told her about our whole argument, she hooked up with him the next day."

*gasp* "no way..."

"yeah, and she had the AUDACITY to keep calling and texting me acting like she didn't just seduce my now-ex-boyfriend." from a conversation two girls were having across the classroom.

you poked senku and whispered, "senku, senku! did you hear tha—?"

"shhh—shut up, they might notice us."

remembers every little thing about you and pretends not to

likes to play dumb around you because you make him comfortable. will shrug at "senku, what's 7 times 9?"

and because you make him laugh

lowk cannot lock in on school because of his side projects and scientific hustles

boxes of books under his bed and in his closet

cereal, then milk like a normal person

likes to travel but then takes like 3 good pictures (foreshadowing for a fic i'm working on)

takes random part-time jobs

partly because byakuya gets mad at him for spending too much money sometimes

partly because he wants the experience

#overachiever

heavily hc that he wrote a few books of important information in the stone world, like making a stone world library of alexandria

was saliva conscious in the old world

yeah idk what else to add i'll get back to writing my actual projects and requests.....😣

©️ staravyzㅤ(¬_¬") do not steal, translate, or repost.

[availabie]

Panty Thief! (Requests are open!)

Warning: smut,blowjob,tit fucking

₍^⸝⸝> · <⸝⸝ ^₎

You and Choso have been roommates for a few months, some would say you guys are friends but something more seems to be growing and it’s starting to become more obvious.

You’re currently in your room like usual texting your friends,studying,or doing things to cure your boredom until Choso comes back with food you begging him to get you. Once you hear the door open and close you rush to the kitchen; it’s small but still pretty spacious for an apartment.

“Finally” you sigh “you took forever” Choso places the take out bag on the kitchen table “traffic was hell” “how? it’s across the street” “just eat your food” you laugh as you never failed to annoy him, you take a seat at the table and open your container of food “I’ll pay you back when I get paid” you say as you’re stuffing your mouth full of food “no need I got it” he reply’s back almost instantly; he’s also sitting down eating his own serving but it’s not as big as yours.

“Aw you’re such a sweet heart!” He smiles at the compliment you could’ve sworn you saw a slight blush.

Choso is attractive in his own loser emo way you can’t deny that it’s like a fact. Sure you flirt with him time to time but this? Your panties on his bed?

While Choso is out with his brothers you decided to do one of Choso laundry loads knowing he always does it last second. You figured you’d help him out so you walk into his room; its messy as usual a bunch of dirty clothes on the floor and in his bed, a bunch of band posters on his wall, and messed up books on his desk and his computer you don’t dare to touch not knowing what kind of things you’d find.

As you clean up his room moving from the floor to the bed, something catching your eye. You notice pink underwear YOUR pink underwear.

It’s the exact same one you lost a MONTH ago it has stains it didn’t have on it before and dried cum?

You honestly never expected this from Choso- he was so sweet and kind to you, sure he had a perverted side to him you can’t blame him he’s a total virgin. But you don’t know he was this desperate.

Later that night when Choso comes back home you have a plan to confront him.

You act normal as always, until when you both are watching Tv together.

“So Choso..”you start off “I did your laundry for you” he glances over at you and then turns back to the tv “aw thanks you don’t have to” you smirk knowing your plan was going perfect “mhm I don’t mind” you give him smile “but why were my panties on your bed?” He freezes maybe even stops breathing he looks at you with a look mixed with a shame and guilt “uhhh what are you talking about?” He stumbles over his words “c’mon fess up Cho” you put your hand on his thigh “I didn’t know you liked me that much” the hint of sarcasm in your voice makes him feel even more embarrassed “I-…I’m sorry” he mumbles

“I didn’t say I was uncomfortable; I actually think it’s cute” you smile put hand going higher on his thigh as you see a rising bulge growing through his sweat pants

“Turned on already?” You tease “we can’t-“ he try’s to push your hands away “why not Cho?” “I-“ he can’t answer; he knows he wants it he just can’t bring himself to say it “want me to help you out?” You offer “yes please…” he says in a whiney tone

You eagerly do so wanting to see what Choso was packing but you never expected his dick to be this big

It’s thick and at least 7 inches you can see the veins on his dick and the pre-cum leaking from his pink mushroom tip.

You slowly run your hand up and down his meaty length

“M-more please” his voice is needy and he’s obviously is desperate; his hips bucking up when you do the right stroke to his cock, you can’t leave him begging for you to suck his dick so you decide to tease him giving him kitty licks on the tip of his cock.

He groans throwing his head back from the immense pleasure he’s experiencing for the first time. His Adam’s Apple bobbing up as he trying to keep his noise down but it doesn’t help when you take his tip in your mouth. His hands immediately flying to the back of your head gripping your hair like it’s the only thing that is keeping him alive.

You feel every vein from his cock as your take him deeper in your mouth his girth stretching your throat a bit painfully but it’s strangely pleasurable.

“T-tits” he moans out and you slowly take his dick out your mouth and you look up at him dumb founded “tits?” He looks down embarrassed “y-yeah like uh- tit fucking… saw it in a video” he admits, you smile and put your shirt over your head to take it off and you unclip your bra.

He bites his lips at the sight of your boobs out in of your bra and your nipples already hardening from the coldness of the room.

You roll your eyes slightly at his ‘innocence’ “You can touch them”

you don’t have to tell him twice. His hands immediately tweaking with your perky nipples groping you roughly, you whine from the harsh treatment.

“H-hurry up so you can cum” you push his hands off your boobs

You put his cock inbetween your boobs pressing them together. He groans and bites his lips he can’t look away from the sight as you move your boobs up and down his length. He can’t hold back he bucks his hips up at the pace of your rhythm and he’s a moaning mess “yes oh fuck!” He whines,his balls aching for release. “G-gonna c-cum” “do it baby come on my tits”

That does it for him; his cum is all over your boob,chin,face, and hair.

“Better never steal my panties again”

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

A/n: never had sex before so hope this is ok and ughh I had such writers block writing this I don’t know why plus I got my period today

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Platonic Yandere Jason w/ Batsis darling

A/N: This is supposed to be post death and all that.. Like he's just trying to integrate back into his family and society but it's been hell. His batsis is the one thing that is actually helping him through it thus becoming over attached. He's obsessed with being normal again..for you. (Any Jason Todd)

Warnings: Rather soft yandere actually. but i guess obsession and possessive tendencies.

Requests: always open. please read pinned post which is the masterlist

Masterlist

Yandere Jason Todd who finds an immeasurable amount of comfort and stability in his Batsis. He doesn't particularly understands or even knows why he does but he does.

He still feels awkward and out of place with the rest of batfam. He feels anxious, judged and annoyed around them. It overwhelms him and stresses him to the point of mental breaks. But you ground him. You don't make sudden movements or loud sounds. You don't ask invasive questions or bring up past memories. You're gentle and mindful of him.

The others try bonding but they never fail to eventually overstep boundaries and cause more wounds. He's appreciative of you.

Yandere Jason who cannot help but get possessive over you. He hates when his other siblings command your attention over his. It boils him. I like to think he's constantly comparing himself to them. How normal and fun they are in contrast. He wants to be just like them and do fun things again...but he just cant...not yet. He especially despises Dick and just how pretty and perfect his older brother is. This often causes fights between the two. You and him have tons of inside jokes, secret handshakes and hangouts often. Jay wants that too.

Jason is fearful of going in public with you. He's been craving that local diner spot and love to treat you as a thank you but he doesn't want the stares. He's riddled with scars and looms over everything. He really don’t want his sis to be ridiculed and questioned on his behalf.

Jay tries his best to keep you locked in the house with him. He tries pulling you away from them as much as possible but he feels guilty. This is a miserable life and he doesn't want that was misery on you too, but he just cannot bear you being with them instead. Sometimes he'll offer to sneak out late at night and hang on rooftops with you, but he knows it's nothing compared to the arcades and parties you're missing out on.

He does try very hard to come out of his shell on your birthdays or times like Christmas ect.. He wants to be a good brother and give back how kind you've been towards him. Whatever will make you happy, he'll power through it.

Yandere Redhood who goes after the people that make you cry or feel unsafe. He knows what he promised Bruce but it's to keep is sibling safe. Bruce would understand if he went through even half of the traumatic experiences he did. You have to cut off potential threats at the roots. That's how you prevent lunatics like the joker and to keep souls like you pure.

Yandere Jason Todd who is adorably obsessed with your room. He hasn't done much decorating to his. It's boring and bland, he doesn't remember much of what he liked as a kid before everything happened. But yours is covered in personality. Books, figures, plushies and tons of posters...it's cute. He likes it a lot. Sometimes he just sits in there, even when you're not home because it makes him feel nostalgic? In a good way, it gives him a warm glimpse into what his life could've been as a teen/young adult. Plus it's filled with all the things you love which by default he loves it too. I like to think he steals trinkets from your room that you love the most when he's anxious.

Like you've come home before to him in the corner of his room with one of your big plushies in his arms during an episode. It smells like you it grounds him back into reality. Whatever he's seeing in his head isn't real, but you are. You signify safety.

Yandere Jason who mimics anything you do to learn how to act normal. He doesn't mean to but he spends so much time either with you or lurking near by. Your food options are a major thing is copies. He's often overwhelmed by the many choices in store so when he's hungry, he'll just pick up anything he's remembered you eating. Even if he didn’t like it much.

He doesn't realizes these habits are a bit strange. enviably, one of the other siblings poke fun at him for how his face scrunches up at the taste of your favorite snack. They laughed how he should just get things he likes instead of trying to copy you all the time. They weren't trying to be cruel, just playing like siblings do but it made his world crumble. Was that really strange? Jason didn't mean to make you feel weird. Did you feel weirded out by it, have you been telling the other siblings how bothered you were by his antics?

"Jason, its okay. It's seriously not a big deal, it's slightly odd but i don't mind." You tried reassuring him but it just confirmed his thoughts.

You did think it was weird. That he was weird. You laugh about him behind his back all the time, don’t you?

He knows he's a bit off the drum. He knows he's an embarrassment but a deluded part of him thought maybe the difference wasn't as big as he made it out to be. It was just paranoia. guess..not. He's shattered. His one safe space wasn't real. He wasn’t good enough like the others….yet.

Yandere Jason has to become like a normal brother for you. He needs to be like Dick and Tim. He needs you to think he's cool and fun to be around. He needs to be a good brother...one you're not weirded out by.

[byproducts-of-my-imagination]

Everyone Hates Todo Except You

The best part about Todo is that you don’t have to put yandere in front of him because his normal behavior already screams delusional and obsessive.   You cannot convince me that he doesn’t sniff all your things as soon as you’re not looking.  He’s just so intense.  I love this man, need to catch up on jjk.

~1k words. Thank you to whoever requested this and I hope you enjoy!

At the Kyoto branch, nobody really bothers sticking their nose in Todo’s business.  But when there’s an enormous mound of trash bags outside his room that just keeps getting bigger, concerning glances and eyebrow raises no longer cut it.  Normally his antics earn a side eye or two, but lately it’s been a little much, even for him.  At the breakfast table the next day, the girls decide to draw straws to see who has to tell him to move his shit.

“It’s not fair!  Why do I have to do it?”  Miwa groans, cursing her bad luck for the thousandth time.  

“It is fair, you just happened to draw the short straw now go deal with it!  We'll back you up.”  Mai grins, knowing full well she rigged it.

Kasumi Miwa would rather be doing literally anything else at this moment.  She timidly knocks on the door, and says, “Todo?  Could you move all this stuff please?  You’re starting to block the hallway.”

“Yeah I’ll get to it whenever I get the rest of this junk cleaned up.  Don’t worry there’s no food waste so there shouldn’t be any smell.”

“B-but Todo…. It's been almost a week now…”  The only response was the muted sound of shuffling.

Miwa looks back in defeat at her so-called “back up” as they peek from behind the corner.  Their best bet now is to get one of the boys to convince him.  And if they fail it’s straight to Utahime-sensei.  

Todo looks at his room, emptier than it’s ever been.  He knew this was the likeliest outcome.  Takada-chan was a beloved idol, and even if she liked him back (which he thought she might have at some point) there was no way she could be with him.  He knew, but it doesn't mean it hurt any less.  There were years of carefully collected merch, thousands of dollars being stuffed into trash bags to be thrown away.  But instead of the despair he carefully denied for years, he didn’t feel any loss throwing away all the autographed posters and pictures.  No, he had something much better now, someone who could actually be with him in this wretched, boring world.  He had his wonderful, gorgeous, beautiful, perfect in every way girlfriend.  And while you weren’t aware that you were destined to be with him yet, he would make sure you’d know soon.  As soon as he finished purging his space of Takada-chan (it wouldn’t do to have pictures of an old flame) he’d confess.  

A few days later he was tying up the last trash bag, ready to enact his plan.  He asked you to meet him under the largest tree in the forest on the edge of the training field.  Several hypothetical scenarios floated through his mind, and he focused on the one where you’d enthusiastically said you loved him back and then he married you and had many children.  As he neared the confession site, Todo felt yet another arrow go through his heart as you came into view.  I’ll never get tired of seeing her.

“Todo, is everything okay?  What’s up?”  A shiver ran down Todo’s spine, goosebumps rising.  God, even your voice was perfect.

“I love you.  Promise me, y/n.  That we’ll spend the rest of our lives together.”  He got down on one knee like a proposal, looking up at you like a devout follower.

“Todo… I don’t know about the rest of our lives but why don’t we start with a date?  I like you too.”  While you were a bit taken aback by his forwardness, you brush it off as Todo being Todo.  You never disliked his honesty and unabashedness.

“My girlfriend!! I knew you felt the same!”  A single tear ran down Todo’s face.   

Back to the dorms, it wasn’t long before everyone found out and congregated at your room to badger you with questions.  

“Ugh that gorilla?  You guys are dating now?”  Nishimiya asked, firmly believing Todo to be an improper and inadequate boyfriend.  

“I thought he only had eyes for that idol Takado or whatever,” Miwa chimes.

“It’s Takada,” Mai corrects, not able to make eye contact with Nishimiya’s suspicious glance in her direction. 

“We’re dating now!  He just asked me out, and he’s really good to me.” you reply, thinking of how Todo insisted on carrying you back to the dorms, gently setting you down before running off saying he needed to ‘prepare’.  

“You can do way better than Todo, trust us.” The girls all nod in agreement.  However, Todo is outside your room balancing a tray of perfectly cooked lunch and a cold pitcher of water.  

“What are you guys talking about?”  he knows already, but wants to hear them say it to his face.  

“How y/n is too good for the likes of you.”  Mai minces no words for Todo.  With the uncomfortable tension rising, the Kyoto girls hastily make an exit.  

“My love, I made lunch for us.  I know I am not handsome, or come from wealth and a good sorcerer family like some of our classmates.  But I will be devoted.  I will never stray from you, I’d die if you asked me to.”  he says, as he sets the meal on your small desk, pulling out utensils and napkins.  His normal confidence seems to waver a bit, and it seems that not even Todo is immune to worrying about what other people think of him.  

“Todo, don’t worry about what they say and please don’t say you’ll die for me.  I like you a lot, I wouldn’t have accepted your confession if I didn’t.  I also think you’re quite handsome.”  

“You love me back?”  he whispers, kneeling at the edge of your bed, looking up at you.  While it’s a bit too early to tell, Todo’s hopeful, reverent look has you obliging him. 

“I do love you back.”  He embraces you, and you can hear his heartbeat in his bare chest.  It feels good to be loved so wholeheartedly, and you’ll give him all the love you have to repay him.  

[ducksido]

Hi my dear ducksido I hope you doing well. I absolutely love the work you write for me, truly wonderful. If not too much I have an idea to share. I saw post that you are frustrated about your situation so it's okay if this take awhile or if you don't want to write this ask. I hope you find a job that suit you soon. (Also I apologize for spelling your name wrong last time. I wrote that ask in 3 a.m. so my mind is a bit foggy.)

Ok back to my ask. I think about scenario that after the fight with overblot Malleus everyone is happy and complained about how hard this fight of and reader just casually say something like ''yeah this's really tough almost like I fighting demon king again''. The thing is this reader,before getting summoned to twisted wonderland, used to be a hero that fight and defeated demon king before. They're very strong but before Malleus they afraid that they might hurt ob! So they just stick in just commands others around. This's a very shocked statement for cast because they never mentioned about anything like this before. I would like to request overblot character + lilia how they'll react about this.(If not too much maybe sebek too because it'll be hilarious.)

(I think you can make Lilia have hint of it maybe because reader walking poster or when they were in his dream, he saw them fight. This's just suggestions you don't have to take it.)

I really hope that you'll find your way soon and light shall follow your path, lead you to a brightest future.

With love

☀️💫

Title: “Oh, Yeah. I Fought a Demon King Once.” Featuring: Overblot boys + Lilia + Sebek Tone: Shock, awe, and just a sprinkle of chaotic disbelief Setting: Post-Malleus overblot, peace restored, everyone regrouping

Riddle Rosehearts

The moment the words left your mouth, Riddle choked on air.

"You—you what?! Fought a Demon King?!"

He’s clutching his robe collar like he’s about to pass out from the sheer audacity. Riddle had watched you command everyone with clarity and conviction during the battle, but he assumed you were just unusually competent—not mythical-warrior-grade. He tries to rationalize it.

"Surely you mean…metaphorically. A 'demon king' as in…a powerful villain from your world’s history?"

When you casually confirm that, no, you meant a real horned, flaming, apocalyptic-type Demon King, Riddle has to sit down. Your reluctance to engage in battle now makes sense—he remembers how careful you were, as if you could flatten the battlefield if you weren’t careful.

"You mean to tell me... you were holding back?"

He mutters, “Ace and Deuce are never allowed to disrespect you again.”

Leona Kingscholar

Leona stares at you like you’ve grown a second head. He’s lying back, one arm over his eyes, clearly exhausted—and then you drop that line.

"Yeah, fighting Malleus was tough. Almost like when I fought a Demon King back home."

A beat. Another. Then he lifts his head slowly and squints at you.

"Tch… don’t joke like that, herbivore."

You’re not joking. The slow, dawning horror on his face is priceless.

"Wait—you're being serious? Are you serious?! That was your normal?"

Leona is internally spiraling. He’s a prince. He’s strong. He’s a dorm leader. But now he has to reckon with the fact that the person he's been napping next to for months could probably yeet a castle across the horizon.

He pretends not to care. But his next words give him away:

"Whatever. I could’ve taken the Demon King too... probably... maybe. Shut up."

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul's mind immediately starts calculating every recorded detail of your magical aptitude, spell use, physical movements during the battle. And he still can’t make it make sense.

"Demon King, you say? Like, the monarch of demons. Actual demon. Actually royal."

He’s sweating. There are no contracts that can prepare a man for this.

"And you defeated it? Alone?"

You nod.

Azul short-circuits.

"You were giving orders. You didn’t move. If you’d drawn your weapon, what would have happened to all of us?!"

He now retroactively fears every conversation he's ever had with you. And forget trying to rope you into shady contracts—he's going to put you in his top-tier loyalty program and pray you don’t smite him.

Jamil Viper

Jamil’s eye twitches.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?"

He turns to Kalim as if seeking confirmation that he’s not hallucinating. But no—Kalim is also gaping at you, wide-eyed.

You clarify, with total nonchalance, that yes, you once defeated a Demon King. Jamil exhales through his nose like he just bit into a lemon.

"So you're telling me, while I was busy dodging magical lightning bolts and getting nearly crushed under a tree, you were casually leading everyone like some fantasy general?"

He now understands why his magic tricks never impressed you. You’d faced hellfire. A part of him is offended. Another part? Deeply, deeply respectful.

"...Next time, you're taking the lead and the front line."

Vil Schoenheit

Vil simply stares.

"Excuse me?"

You repeat it, even more casually this time. He gives you a look like you’ve just committed a fashion crime.

"Darling, you don’t just mention something like that after the fight is over. That’s a pre-battle montage story. That’s backstory gold. That’s gravitas."

He crosses his arms and eyes you critically.

"So that’s why you always avoid direct combat. You’ve seen worse."

Now everything—your calm demeanor, your hesitation to use violence—makes chilling sense. His tone softens just a touch.

"Thank you... for being careful with your strength."

And then with a dramatic sigh:

"But next time, do me the courtesy of warning me when I’m fighting beside a myth."

Idia Shroud

Idia.exe has stopped responding.

"You—You fought a Demon King? Like the final boss? Endgame raid level? MAXED stats?!"

He's curled up, glowing hair flickering erratically, muttering about how you're a literal isekai protagonist and how your stat sheet must be in the five digits.

"No wonder your magic signature felt weird. I knew something was off! You were nerfing yourself the whole time! You’re basically a walking cheat code!!"

He is now obsessed. Will probably try to datamine your soul for lore. He starts drawing fanart. Adds you to his shrine.

"Do you have a cool title? Please tell me it was something like 'Blade Saint of Calamity.'"

Malleus Draconia

He simply goes quiet.

"...You’ve fought beings like me before?"

There’s no malice in his voice. Only curiosity. And perhaps a faint touch of sadness.

You nod gently, explaining that your world had its own monsters and tyrants. That you hadn’t fought him directly because… you were afraid of what you might do if you weren’t careful.

"So… you protected me. Even when I lost myself."

He gives a bittersweet smile.

"You are a greater force than you let the world see. I thank you for your restraint."

Malleus now treats you like a fellow ancient warrior. He will refer to you in reverent tones, as if you’re some sealed divine guardian.

Lilia Vanrouge

He knew it. Ever since that dream he shared with you, where your silhouette cleaved through shadows with divine might, he knew. And the way you handled the overblot? A dead giveaway.

"Ahhh, so you were the Hero of the West Wind!" he cackles. "I thought I recognized that mana pressure!"

He grins knowingly while the others freak out.

"You’re always full of surprises, little one. I wonder what else you’re hiding under that sweet exterior."

He now brings you ancient weapons and sparring challenges daily. You are now an unofficial war buddy.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek was mid-sentence, loudly praising Lord Malleus when he heard your off-hand comment.

"Yes! None shall stand before Lord Malleu—wait, YOU FOUGHT WHAT?!"

He nearly bites his tongue.

"A D-D-DEMON KING?!"

You confirm, and his worldview collapses. Suddenly he’s replaying every time he yelled at you for being a “useless human.”

"T-T-THE HERO OF ANOTHER WORLD?!"

His shouting echoes off the ruined towers. He grabs you by the shoulders with trembling hands.

"Why didn’t you say anything?! You—you—AAARGH!!"

He is now torn between devotion to Malleus and worshipping you as a legendary figure. Will probably write a thesis on your abilities.

Sebek now yells at others to respect you.

[merthosus]

Blank minds

@selfishlittlebeing asked:

Hi! So basically I just read every single one shot on this blog. And I am obsessed with your work. And I gotta admit that, “Wounded nights” did things to me.🧍🏼‍♀️

I’m not sure if I am requesting or smth (if you’d like to write this I wouldn’t protest, but feel free to just ponder on this with me). But like… I can’t get the image of touch starved Five out of my head. Bcs…damn. Him holding the reader in his arms like that (WN)… but can you imagine HIM having a vulnerable moment because of all that stuff with the Commission and apocalypses, just the trauma package yk. And after all those years…just Five being vulnerable with someone and touch starved.🥲 I am making myself feel depressed with all this. Wanna be depressed with me?🎀

Summary: After Luthers wedding, most of the siblings already gone to bed. You didn't feel like drinking, but loved to watch the others drown their sorrows into liquor and just have fun. Just as you were about to fall into a deep sleep, a knock on your door pulls you out of your slumber.

Thank you for your lovely request! Also, here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm

“Since everything will be dust soon anyway, you won't mind if I just lie down here for a while, will you?”

You're up to your nose under your eiderdown, with only the sound of collapsing buildings coming through your window. It may sound crazy to others, but for you, it's been part of everyday life for a week. Counting every second, spending the last time with your family and savoring it. There is nothing more precious than time. Money has no value anymore, but the ticking hands of the grandfather clock do have.

Your thoughts hover over your head like gray clouds. Since the first day you slept in that hotel bed, falling asleep felt like hell. You tried a lot to finally fall asleep normally again. But every time you closed your eyes, you were met with nightmares, worse than you could ever have imagined. You were sure that this couldn't be the end, it simply couldn't be.

Like every night, you try to push the thoughts aside, to repress them as if they had never been there. But a loud and uneven knocking jolts you out of your sleep like a thunderstorm. You startle awake and clutch at the sheets of your bed. “Yes!” you shout, but it sounded more like a question than an encouragement. You watch every movement, sharper than Diego's blades. As Five stumbles in, you let out a breath you didn't even released you were holding. 

“You scared me,” you mumble. "I scared you, so please, why should anyone be scared of me?" he says to himself. Any blind person would have recognized that Five had probably had a little too much to drink at Luther's wedding. Five doesn't finish the sentence and drops his head down as he continues to mumble to himself. After he fell back against the door, you gave him a worried look. “Thanks for closing the door, but I think you have a concussion now,” I smirk to myself. Five starts to giggle. “The world is coming to an end,” he says, and pushes away from the door again.

You look out of the window that separated you from the crumbling outside world. Instead of bright sunshine, dark red fire dazzles your eyes, bricks fly off buildings and trees uproot themselves. “No, really?” you ask him sarcastically as you turn back to him. You suppress your horror as he suddenly stands right in front of you. He holds on to the edge of your bed. You think about how he managed to approach you so quietly, the alcohol in his blood must be enough to put a chimpanzee down.

“Since everything will be dust soon anyway, you won't mind if I just lie down here for a while, will you?” he asks as he tries to climb onto the bed. “Five, eh?” you ask as you hold him down so he doesn't slide off. He awkwardly pushes himself over your legs, which elicits a small squeak from your mouth. “You're really rough, Five,” you complain, but you just couldn't help the smile on your face.

You had never seen Five so shameless. Five, who is usually so strong and independent, asks you if he can lie down with you for a moment. As you think about it for a moment, you briefly doubt your sanity. Was this a fever dream? But Five's careless hand movement presses your torso so hard into the mattress beneath you that you're sure it would have shaken you awake. “I've never seen you so awkward,” you squeeze your words out of the pain. “I'm sorry, but your bed is sooo soft,” he lulls to himself. You shake your head and stifle the comment that the beds here were all the same.

“Five, why are you really here?” you ask him. He lies down on his stomach and presses his head into your pillow. He mumbles his words into the fabric so that you can only guess what he's saying. “I don't understand a word, you stupid…” you grumble to yourself as you grab a tuft of his hair and push his head to the side. 

Five groans softly as you move his head, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused. You wait for him to speak, but it seems like he’s struggling to find the right words. He’s always been the one with the sharp tongue, the quick wit, and seeing him like this—vulnerable and slightly lost—pulls at something deep inside you.

“I didn’t want to be alone,” he finally mutters, his voice slurred but honest. “I’ve been alone for so long... and I guess I’m tired of it.” His words are a confession, raw and unguarded, much like the state he's in now. You’ve seen Five in many situations—fighting, strategizing, leading—but this is different. This is Five without his armor, without the walls he usually keeps so firmly in place.

You feel a pang in your chest, a mix of sadness and empathy. You’ve always known there was more to him than the ruthless time-traveling assassin he often portrayed himself to be. But hearing him admit his loneliness is something else entirely. "I understand you, Five," you say. He smiles and sightly closes his eyes. "I didn't want to be alone too, so I am happy that you are here now, I would've preferred sober Five, but this is also ok", you smile at him. 

You let your body fall back into your pillows, Five, who was still lying on his stomach, watching you. You put your head to one side and just look at him motionlessly. “Promise you won't tell anyone about the following?” he asks you. You don't understand exactly what he means. “I hardly think I have enough time left to tell anyone anything,” you say, with an unintentional sweep of sadness. “Promise” he whispers to you, while looking at you with begging eyes. Not only the pungent smell of alcohol, but also his seriousness to fly in your face. “I won't tell anyone,” you promise. Without warning, Five starts to move again. He pushed your arm up and curled up on your chest, like a cat looking for warmth.

Seeing five like this was new and made you very afraid to admit it to yourself. He cared so much about maintaining his strong, unbreakable personality that his current behavior frightened you. Despite the unfamiliar feeling of five so close to you, you almost automatically put your arms around his slender torso. His fingers slide onto the sides of your torso, clutching on it as if it was a matter of life or death.

"Five, what's wrong?", you ask him. "I am fucking scared", he lulls. His confession hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of his vulnerability. You can feel your heart rate quicken, the tension in the room shifting as you process his words. It’s a rare glimpse into the inner workings of Five’s mind, and the openness is both unsettling and intimate.

“Scared of what exactly?” you ask gently. “Everything,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. “The end of it all… the not knowing". The tremor in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but tighten your hold on him. You want to reassure him, to tell him that everything will be okay, but the truth is you’re scared too. The world outside is crumbling, and the future feels uncertain for both of you. 

He shifts slightly, looking up at you with his tired eyes. “I don’t want to let anyone down. Not you, not the others. I’ve messed up so many times already.” His voice is tinged with a mix of regret and fear, and you can see the conflict waging within him. “If we lose, at least we'll lose together,” you say. It didn't really sound encouraging, but you couldn't think of anything better. “Do you think you'll regret this tomorrow?” you whisper without looking at him. 

Five’s grip on your chest tightens just a little, and you can feel the slight shivering in his body as he processes your words. The silence that follows feels heavy, filled with the weight of the world outside and the vulnerability between you. “No,” he finally murmurs, his voice soft but resolute. “I won’t regret this. I might not remember every detail of tonight, but I’ll remember the way it felt to finally....", you wait for him to end his sentence. 

"feel you", he says, so quietly that you almost missed it.. There is a silence in the room, your body is no longer able to move. Your brain needs some time to process his words. “I went too far, I'm sorry I…” he tries to apologize. He pushes away from your body and leans on his arms. But before he can finish his sentence and move away from you completely, you put your hands around his face and crash your lips into his. 

The moment your lips meet Five’s, time seems to suspend itself. The world outside, with its crumbling chaos, fades into the background, leaving just the two of you in this small, intimate bubble. His initial shock quickly melts away, and he responds with a tentative but heartfelt kiss. His lips are soft and warm, and the urgency in his movements gradually transforms into something more tender and searching.

As you pull away slightly, you can see the surprise in his eyes, mingled with a hint of relief and something deeper that he might not fully understand himself. You’re both breathing heavily, the gravity of the moment settling in. “I didn’t want to...,” Five starts to say, but you place a finger gently over his lips, silencing him. “Don’t,” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath.

“You don’t have to apologize. Not now. Not ever.” Five’s expression softens, and he looks at you with a mixture of awe and vulnerability. “I’ve been so caught up in trying to control everything, in fighting against the end, that I forgot about what really matters. I didn’t realize... I didn’t realize how much I needed this, how much I needed you.”

Feel free to tell me in the comments, what you think :)

[hummingbird24220]

Hello hello ✌︎^^ could I request a scenario where the straw hats react to reader having a crush on buggy? He’s actually one of my first favourite characters in One Piece aside from the straw hats lol

I too, love the clown.

I get it.

Enjoy!

You Like WHO?!

One Piece x Reader (x Buggy)

The moment the words slipped out, you regretted everything.

It had been a normal day aboard the Sunny—sunshine, a sea breeze, and a chaotic lunch courtesy of Luffy stealing three steaks off Sanji’s grill. You hadn’t meant to say it, not out loud, not in front of them. But you’d gotten comfortable, too relaxed, laughing with Usopp and Chopper while Nami counted her berry stash.

Then you said it. Like a fool.

“I think Buggy’s kind of… cute.”

Everything stopped.

Forks froze halfway to mouths. Robin’s book snapped shut. Zoro actually blinked. Franky choked on his cola. Sanji missed his seasoning pinch and accidentally threw basil into the ocean.

“……you what?” Nami asked slowly, as if maybe—just maybe—she’d heard you wrong and the universe would be kind enough to roll it back.

You cleared your throat. “I said… Buggy. The Clown. Is kind of… cute?”

Chopper gasped like a Victorian woman seeing ankle. “THE clown?! The chop-chop guy?! The guy who yelled ‘off with their heads’ like five seconds after meeting us?!”

Usopp leaned back, hand on his chest. “I thought I was the dramatic one.”

“HE’S A LITERAL CLOWN,” Zoro snapped, finally finding his voice. “With a floating nose!”

“I mean, the nose is kinda endearing…” you mumbled.

Robin smiled faintly, like she was watching a soap opera she couldn’t look away from. “Interesting. A jester's charm. Do you enjoy chaos?”

You looked down. “Maybe a little…”

“NO,” Sanji declared, dramatically flinging off his apron. “You deserve romance, candlelit dinners, soft kisses under the moon—not a man who throws knives and insults with equal force!”

Franky nodded, rubbing his temples. “Even I’ve got limits on what’s super. This ain’t it.”

Luffy, who’d been quietly watching this whole time, finally tilted his head.

“So… you wanna kiss Buggy?”

You nearly fell off your seat. “Luffy?!”

“I mean,” he said thoughtfully, “he is kind of funny. But also kind of explodey. And yelly. And he tried to kill us.”

“I know,” you said, face red. “I don’t like him like that—I just—there’s something about him, okay? Maybe it’s the voice, or the confidence, or the weird way he laughs like ‘gyahahaha’—”

“Oh my god,” Nami whispered, eyes wide with horror. “It’s a type.”

“A chaotic type,” Robin confirmed, intrigued. “Have you felt this way for long?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I don’t know. It just… happened!”

“Have you seen his wanted poster?” Usopp asked, holding his hands apart. “He’s got that whole unhinged grrrahh thing going on!”

“…that’s kinda the appeal,” you said quietly.

Chopper screamed into a pillow.

Zoro stood up, sword clanking against his hip. “That’s it. I’m finding a priest. You need an exorcism.”

“Oi!” you yelled, flinging a bread roll at him.

Sanji caught it. “Don’t throw food, even during an emotional breakdown.”

“Okay, but seriously,” Nami said, rubbing her temples like this was physically painful, “what would you even talk to him about? Ripping apart the navy? Stage makeup??”

“I dunno!” you snapped. “Maybe I’d ask about his circus days! Or how he keeps his hair that blue! Or his tragic backstory with Shanks!”

“TRAGIC—?!” half the crew chorused at once.

Luffy paused again. “You really like him?”

You squirmed in your seat. “...I mean, I don’t not like him.”

Robin leaned in. “Would you date him?”

“If he asked nicely,” you said, then added quickly, “and wasn’t trying to murder us at the time!”

“Would you honk his nose?” Usopp asked way too seriously.

“That’s not even a euphemism—!” Chopper panicked.

Franky flopped backwards onto the deck like a fainting starfish. “I can’t believe this is happening…”

Luffy grinned. “This is so cool! You’re gonna have a clown boyfriend!”

“I’m not—he’s not—I don’t—!” you groaned.

Nami patted your back gently, like she was speaking to someone who’d just confessed they had feelings for a sea king. “You know we still love you, right?”

Zoro crossed his arms. “I don’t not respect you. But I am questioning everything about you.”

“Valid,” you muttered.

“Are you gonna write him a letter?” Luffy asked cheerfully. “I could deliver it next time I see him! I think he still hates me though.”

You shrieked. “NO. No letters. No matchmaking. I am burying this crush at sea.”

“…like a circus secret,” Robin mused.

You sighed, dramatic and red-faced and doomed. “Exactly.”

There was a long pause.

Then Luffy raised his hand. “But … what if we did invite him over for tea—?”

“NO!!!” the entire crew shouted at once.

--

You stood at the edge of the Sunny, staring out at the stars, trying to forget everything.

“Buggy the Clown,” a voice muttered behind you. It was Zoro. “Really?”

You groaned. “Can we not?”

He grunted, leaning on the rail next to you. “Just… if he hurts you, I’m cutting him into confetti.”

You smiled faintly, warmth spreading in your chest. “…Thanks.”

He huffed. “Still weird though.”

“Extremely.”

You both stood in silence for a while.

“…You don’t think he’d wear couple’s clown shoes, do you?” you mumbled.

Zoro walked away.

--

The next time you ran into Buggy the Clown, it was not part of the plan.

You were just trying to enjoy a nice, low-profile dock on a small port island—no Navy, no bounty hunters, no trouble. You’d all stopped for restocking, maybe some fresh fruit and a little miso. Peaceful. Calm.

But the universe was cruel and dramatic.

There he was. Buggy. In full cape, feather boa, makeup shining in the sun like war paint and glittery war crimes.

“HAH! So you finally showed up!” he cackled, standing atop some poor vendor’s fish cart like a deranged peacock. “I knew the winds smelled like idiots!”

Luffy’s eyes lit up. “Buggy!!!”

You panicked. Fully, utterly, violently panicked. You ducked behind a barrel so fast your kneecaps cracked.

“NOPE,” you hissed. “No. Nope. We’re not doing this.”

“Y/N?” Chopper whispered, eyes wide.

“Barrel. I’m a barrel now. Leave me here.”

Meanwhile, the rest of the crew had already formed a loose semicircle behind Luffy. Buggy strutted around like he owned the street, grinning and flaring his coat. He had backup, sure—but Buggy’s ego counted as its own crew.

Luffy beamed like this was a school reunion. “We haven’t seen you in forever!”

“HAH! I’ve been busy, unlike you freeloading dingbats. While you were out playing pirates, I was running an empire! A floating, glittery, semi-functional empire!”

Sanji lit a cigarette. “I give it a week before it sinks.”

“Quiet, eyebrow freak!”

You tried to breathe. Calm. Stay hidden. Pretend the man you’d once described as “weirdly hot” within earshot of your captain wasn’t ten feet away.

And then Luffy—dear, sweet, rubber-brained Luffy—opened his big, fat mouth.

“Hey Buggy!” he shouted. “Guess what? Y/N has a crush on you!”

Silence.

The world stopped.

You screamed.

Not aloud—no, that would have been merciful. You screamed internally. So loud that the barrel you were in rattled. A cat three islands over skittered away

“…huh?” Buggy blinked.

“I do not!” you shouted, exploding out of the barrel like a traumatized jack-in-the-box. “Luffy!! WHAT THE HELL?!”

Luffy tilted his head. “What? You said he was cute!”

“That wasn’t a declaration! That was a moment of weakness!”

Zoro groaned and covered his face. “Here we go…”

Buggy stared.

Eyes locked on you.

His nose twitched.

You saw recognition bloom behind that unhinged gaze, slowly, like a mushroom cloud.

“You…” he said, pointing a gloved finger at you dramatically. “YOU—like me?!”

“Used to!” you shouted.

“Still does,” Robin murmured, sipping tea that had somehow appeared in her hand.

Buggy did a little pirouette. “Well, well, well! Looks like someone’s got taste!”

You wanted the sea to swallow you whole. Or at least a giant crab to scuttle by and drag you to a different timeline.

“I—I was sick! Feverish! I was delirious from sea salt and poor nutrition!” you babbled.

Sanji placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “That’s not how crushes work, mon cœur.”

Buggy swaggered closer, absolutely eating up the drama. “Don’t be shy now, sweetheart. I am incredibly irresistible.”

Franky facepalmed so hard it echoed.

You grabbed Luffy by the collar. “Why would you say that?!”

“I thought it’d be funny,” Luffy said with zero shame.

“It is funny,” Usopp wheezed, hiding behind Chopper.

Buggy threw an arm around you—well, part of an arm, it detached and floated to your side. “We could be great together, babe. You and me—matching outfits, a shared thirst for chaos, clown-themed weddings—”

You slapped the hand off. “Oh my god, stop talking.”

“Don’t be shy!” Buggy preened. “I like a fan! Especially one who admits I’m amazing. Do you want an autograph? A lock of my hair? A small flag with my face on it?”

“Absolutely none of those things.”

“Too late, I already have your face memorized,” he purred dramatically, one eye twinkling like a villain in a telenovela.

Nami threw her hands up. “Can we go back to pretending this never happened?”

“No,” Robin said serenely. “This is better than theater.”

“Do you—” Buggy turned to you, dead serious, “—want to join my crew?”

Everyone: “NO.”

You: “No.”

Buggy: “Rude.”

You: “You tried to murder me.”

Buggy: “Once! It was business!”

Zoro finally drew a sword. “Say one more word and I’ll make balloon animals out of your limbs.”

Buggy glared. “Don’t threaten the clown, mosshead!”

“Oh my god,” you moaned. “Can we please go back to sea where I can hide in the walls of the ship?”

Luffy clapped you on the back. “See? I knew this would be fun!”

“You are never allowed to speak in public again.”

--

You were lying face-down on the deck.

Sanji brought you tea. Nami fanned you. Chopper had taken your pulse twice. Zoro refused to speak to you on principle. Brook was mocking up a song about clown pirate love.

Luffy was giggling in the crow’s nest. Usopp was still laughing.

“Do you think he’ll send a love letter?” Robin asked casually.

You sobbed into the wood.

“Maybe you do belong together,” Nami said gently. “You’re both loud, chaotic, and slightly terrifying.”

“I hate it here,” you whispered.

“Buggy probably likes you more now,” Chopper offered optimistically.

You lifted your head just enough to glare. “I am going to marry a hermit crab and live in silence forever.”

But even as you sulked, a tiny part of your heart thrilled. Just a little. Just enough.

Because—maybe—just maybe…

Buggy had called you sweetheart.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hello. May I please ask for a request?

Fem reader introduce pete with the show called happy tree friends.

Colorful animals and lots of violence

Pete DiNunzio x fem!reader

warning : fluff, mention of violence

Summary : Stumbling across the colorful forest creatures on TV one day, the student knew she had to tell her boyfriend about it. Who would have thought that Pete could take such a liking to something so cute? Especially when everything was full of pink, sweet sugar and kindness before each brutal depiction.

info : Sure of course you can request it dear anon :) I hope you enjoy reading and thanks again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a normal school Friday, the bell had rung and all the students were heading to their last classes for the day.

The four nerds hadn't done anything else either, even if their attention was focused on completely different things.

Bill just wanted to go to his club room and rearrange it, Josh wanted to put his new Star Wars figures away, Jerry had got new cards, only Pete didn't quite know what to do.

He had just framed his new horror movie posters yesterday and made a maarthon, but now with the weekend what would he do?

Lost in his thoughts, he felt the nudge at his side and looked at a chair next to him, his friend's upturned smile came to him, behind the math book she had held out a piece of paper, “For us” she had whispered as much as she could and pretended to continue working as the teacher turned around.

Taking the piece of paper, he opened it and looked at the written sentences, the dark-haired man's smile growing bigger with every word.

His weekend was saved and without a club meeting just him and his girlfriend, it was going to be a bloody good meeting. It was only two hours before all the students ran out of the school, trying not to run over each other as they all got on the buses or cars that picked them up.

The boys had also said goodbye to each other and were all hurrying home, Pete and his girlfriend walking hand in hand on the short journey home, “So what's this show?” he asked impatiently, hardly able to wait until they were back home in his room.

But a glance to his side told him that she only had a smirk on her lips and didn't seem to say a word to him, “Wait and see,” she winked and pulled him faster behind her as they both arrived in front of his house after a quarter of an hour and quickly made themselves comfortable.

A little food, a little talk, cuddling on his bed until the time finally came when she reached for his TV, “Well, like I said, I discovered it by accident when I was pulling an all-nighter,” she began, switching the channels on the small but adequate TV, Pete clutching the bowl of snacks tensely as various images raced through his mind.

One more brutal than the other, maybe it was aliens, monsters, monsters aliens with weapons, whatever it was the dark-haired man could hardly wait.

When he heard “Found it” he was almost glued to the TV and his smile vanished as he saw the animated, colorful, cute animals mak.

“What the hell is that?” he immediately voiced and the bowl almost fell out of his hands as he turned to his friend but only pointed at the TV, “Don't be fooled Pete” and he turned back.

The forest dwellers had just gathered around a cake, one of the creatures must have had a birthday or something, when the cake blew up, metal pieces flew around and cut a green squirrel in half, an elf's trunk was cut off and a hedgehog lost his eyes.

All of a sudden Pete was back in the action and watched with interest as one after the other was brutally cut up, dismembered and beaten to death, “That's so awesome!” he shouted as he noticed the two differences.

He had never thought how something so sweet could be so brutal, going back to the bed and sitting down with her he only said “I need more” and was quite excited when she told him that there was much more to it than that.

Leaning on Pete, the young couple enjoyed the series to the end and knew they had saved the weekend for the next few months.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@hyperfixationcenter , @the0nlystar , @just-a-sideblog524 , @thequeenofcupps , @trentreznorslefttestical

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 2)

Lucifer/Reader

Rated E for the smex coming next chapter I SWEAR. ((Also there will not be any non-con in this fic, so please don’t worry. You’ll see when you read.))

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

Tag Requests: @loslox, @for-hearthand-home, @navierkalani

‘The worst thing they could be are swingers.’

Your heart was racing, and you felt ridiculous for how uppity you felt at the prospect of having dinner with your two elderly neighbors. 

Normally, meeting new people would cause a healthy amount of anxiety in you. You’d grown up into a recluse and upholding social niceties took most of your energy. It was even worse to be in their home, and among people that you likely did not have much in common with. 

These were personal reassurances that you told yourself after denying the first invitation for dinner with the Farrows. The guilt you felt, paired with the subsequent relief of not having to spend more than five minutes with your chatty neighbor, stirred an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

Of course you’d been unable to stop thinking about what a wretch you were, how karma was going to bite you on the ass for denying an old couple some company. 

And oh Karma did come back to bite you. Hard. 

You felt like you were hanging by a thread at work. Three weeks into the job and you’d already been reprimanded. Even the memory of your supervisor looking down her nose at you from the other side of her desk made your eyes water. 

“We have a ‘three strikes’ policy here. I’m afraid this will count as your first.”

Never having been fired from a job notwithstanding, you felt like the idiot your parents always purported you to be. 

If you’d have just stayed in your hometown, living off your parents’ good graces and kept your head down, instead of prancing out the door as if you had self-respect and no need for a safety net… 

Maybe things wouldn’t be so dire. 

Maybe you wouldn’t be on the verge of having a panic attack at this very moment, feeling the anxiety and restlessness from declining the previous invitation tenfold. 

With a deep breath in and out, you crossed the hall with the hesitance of a mouse approaching a snap-trap. You knocked on the door to Unit 606 with a shaking hand.

There was a moment left to blanch at the realization that you hadn’t brought anything with you. Like the shittiest, most thoughtless guest ever.

——

“You made it!” Mrs. Farrow held her arms out dramatically. “Come in! Come in! You’re right on time! Oh and you look lovely dear!”

“Thanks.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks as the door closed behind you. 

The layout of the apartment was a mirror image to yours, but you were overwhelmed by just how much stuff had taken up the space. From the kitchen to the living room, the apartment was brimming with kaleidoscopic color. Antique statuettes of unknown deities, handcrafted vases and sculptures in-set with gems and gold filigree, expertly framed posters of old Hollywood, and Persian rugs beneath well-worn furniture were visible from just a cursory glance. 

It distracted you from the unusually bitter, earthy smell that assaulted you upon entering. 

“Wow,” You said in genuine awe. “Your home is lovely.” 

“Aw, you’re too kind sweetheart. Too kind. Here, let me take your shawl - we’ll hang it up on the rack here, see.” She took your cardigan and placed it on an old hat stand before steering you out to the living room by the back of your shoulders.

There was a man sitting in a leather armchair adjacent to the couch. He was wearing a tweed jacket and his silver-blond hair had been combed back finely to show a pale, wrinkled face and eyes so dark they shone almost black in the lowlight. 

He looked at you with interest once you’d finally caught onto his presence, and opened his mouth to speak.

‘Quack!’ 

“Lou!” You laughed as the duck came racing over on its little legs. 

Without delay, the bird climbed onto your flats with an impatient flap of its wings, trying to balance while looking up at you adoringly. 

You couldn’t help but reach down and pat his little head, murmuring ‘hellos’ and ‘how you doing buddy?’ softly and sweetly. 

The man opposite you both smirked. “My wife was right. He’s quite taken with you.” 

“I’m always right!” Mrs. Farrow called out from the kitchen. 

You looked to the kitchen and back to, presumably, Mr. Farrow, an uncertain smile on your lips. 

“Welcome to our home.” The elder man’s voice was almost hypnotically deep. His hand was outstretched and waiting. “Please excuse me for not greeting you properly. When you get to be as old as I am, your body does everything it can to make you stay put in one place.” 

You shook your head. “Oh no, please don’t worry about it! I understand.” 

Mr. Farrow’s smirk seemed to soften as you spoke. 

“Please make yourself comfortable, my dear.” When he gestured to the couch, you awkwardly shuffled to sit down. Lou was right on your heels, loathe to spend even a second without your warmth. 

The duck ended up snuggled on your lap after begging to be lifted as you sank into the plush sofa. And you were grateful, hugging Lou to you gently as if he were a plush toy. 

It helped take your mind away from that spine-tingling feeling when it made a comeback — the way Mr. Farrow’s eyes glittered when he looked at you and his duck. 

‘Oh god, they probably are swingers. And they lure in their targets with this crazy well-trained duck.’ You thought, punching yourself in the face mentally. ‘And you fell for it. Walked right into their den of debauchery. You stupid bitch.’ 

“Here’s some water, honey. We’ll save the stronger stuff for dinner.” You jumped in your seat when Mrs. Farrow appeared at your side, setting a glass of ice water down on the end table beside you. 

You reached for the glass as its contents sloshed over the edge. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Farrow.” 

Mrs. Farrow beamed. 

“What did I tell ya, Warren? Isn’t she lovely? Just a peach. Lou is smitten.” She patted your shoulder. “And it’s Cassie, honey. Call me Cass.”

“You were right, Cass.” Warren Farrow intoned. 

He took on a conspiratorial tone as he addressed you once more. “You must know, my wife hasn’t stopped talking about you since you met the other day. I wondered if she was preparing us for a new roommate.” 

Heat flooded your face for the second time. “Aw.”

“Oh poo, as if you wouldn’a done the same.” Mrs. Farrow sniffed derisively. “Dinner in 5 minutes!”

Her exit left room for you to start a conversation, but you couldn’t find it in you to say anything. Mr. Farrow kept staring, smiling, which made you stroke Lou’s feathers for comfort that much more. 

The silence lasted a little while, save for the clinking, crackling, thudding from the kitchen dining room. Aside from catering to Lou, you surveyed your surroundings in an effort to avoid bouncing your legs.

The Farrows didn’t have a TV, only a large fireplace that they’d positioned their furniture around. There were displays on either side of the grate. On one stood an oversized chalice with intricate, swirling patterns. The other had a statuette of a goat-headed figure sitting crisscrossed on a throne, one arm poised to reach out to the sky.

“Baphomet.” 

You turned from the sight, head swiveling to face your human companion. He was eying you keenly again. 

“O-oh, the statue is…?”

Warren nodded. “Baphomet. Conceived as a false god around the time of the crusades. Most people see him as a depiction of Satan these days.” 

The association wasn’t too far-fetched, you figured with another look at the figure. Its goat-head and large horns were the most eye-catching thing about it. 

“I apologize if the sight upsets you, dear. I hadn’t thought to remove it before your arrival.” 

“Oh no, please. It’s alright.” You said. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s very interesting.” 

The rumbling hum at your side seemed to signal approval, or maybe general geniality with your neutral response. “Are you religious by chance?”

You turned to Warren again. 

“Ah, no.” You replied apologetically. “I grew up in a Christian area, but I was never very involved with the church.” 

Warren nodded. “That’s just as well. The institution and its practices can be stifling. I was never very involved with it myself.” 

“Religious artifacts have always been fascinating to me, however. There’s no shortage of temples and synagogues in this world.” 

“Have you been to many? For the history?” You were genuinely curious. 

The old man nodded again, stately and dignified even as he puffed up in his armchair like a peacock. “Cass and I are seasoned travelers. We’ve been to all 7 continents at least twice, seen the wonders of the world from the Hindu shrines in Malaysia to St. Basil’s Cathedral. I have a particular fondness for those countries surrounding the Mediterranean Sea. I was able to convince Cassie another trip to Rome wouldn’t put us in the poor house last year.” 

Your little huff of laughter was sincere, though the idea of traveling to Rome - or anyplace outside of the familiar - sounded amazing. “I’d love to be able to do that.” 

Warren’s head tilted to one side. “You’re quite young, I’m sure you’ll get the chance if you haven’t already.” 

“Sure.” You scoffed before immediately falling into contrition. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me —”

“Dinner time!”

Mrs. Farrow hollered from the kitchen, stopping you from trying to come up with a suitable excuse for yourself. 

Luckily, Mr. Farrow chuckled good-naturedly. He rose from his chair stiffly, legs visibly straining. “No need to apologize, my dear. But we best get going before the Missus comes out and drags us by our ears.”

——

All things considered, the dinner was perfectly fine. 

The jitters never left your frame, but you had chalked that up to a simple byproduct of your skittish nature. The red wine that Cass had insisted upon you made you feel warm and solid, at least. 

As did the fact that Cassie Farrow could hold entire conversations all on her own with very little effort or input from yourself. 

“You got a boyfriend, honey? Or girlfriend? No shame in that at all. We may be old but by no means bigoted. We’ve been all over the place, seen so many things - what’s natural to you and me could be the furthest from, in certain places. Isn’t that right, Warren?”

“Men in Ancient Greece often had relationships with other men.” Warren replied. “Royals in Europe had extramarital affairs with different sexes. It was all about keeping the bloodline pure, but romance was a different thing altogether.” 

“I haven’t dated in a while, actually.” You said. “It’s not been a priority.” 

Cassie nodded, exuberant as she drank from her wine glass. “That’s good too! Plenty of independent women these days! It’s about time, I say.” 

‘Quack quack’

Lou was beside you, red eyes locked in as he gazed upon you at the dining table. It made you giggle.

“Mm!” Cassie had a spastic moment. “I almost forgot!” 

The chair lurched out from under the old woman as she rose and scuttled out of the room. It left you blinking, and out of the corner of your eye you saw that same smirk on Warren’s face before his wife had returned. 

She had a small wicker basket in her arms. 

“This is for you, honey. Housewarming present from your kooky neighbors across the hall.” 

As she drew nearer, you caught a glimpse of the contents, some of which shone beneath the light of the overhead chandelier. 

“Thank you! You really didn’t have to.” The basket was pressed into your arms and Cassie was back in her seat before you’d finished your sentence. 

“Nonsense. It’s the least we could do. I still can’t believe no one welcomed you for a whole week!” 

The basket was lined with shredded filler, and nestled in between were little gemstones and crystals.

“There’s jade and ruby in there, and I believe there’s moonstone as well.” Mr. Farrow recalled. “Is that it, Cass?”

“Yes, yes, and carnelian too. It’s all scattered about there, with the Scrabble and the socks and the hand cream and oh!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Forgive us honey, we saw that little rubber duck and just had to get it for you.” 

There was a little rubber duck. It was a novelty type, with a tiny red jacket and a tiny black top hat. 

“It’s a carnival barker. No, it’s something like that. It’s on the tip of my tongue.” Your nose scrunched in thought. “Oh, a circus ringmaster!” 

“Exactly! See, what’d I tell you, Warren? She loves it!” 

“I believe I was the one who suggested it.” His voice carried through the otherwise silent dining room. 

“Oh well maybe it was, so what. She likes it. Don’t you, honey?”

“Yes, but…” You felt funny again. Tingly. “This is too much. Really. You’re both so kind but I can’t accept this.” 

A hand laid gently on your shoulder and you looked up at a frowning Warren Farrow. “It’s no trouble at all, my dear.” 

“The cost must’ve —”

“No cost, really. Gemstones and crystals are quite popular these days. You can find them all over. And the little trinkets are just the same. Given to you in good faith of course.” He patted your shoulder gently. 

You swallowed, eyes once again roving over the little mundane treasures. Silken feathers brushed against your ankle under the table and you met those red eyes, sparkling like the crystals in your basket. 

Lou was such a funny little thing. So expressive, he looked as if he were waiting as he stared at you. 

So funny. 

… You felt funny. 

Perhaps the anxiety from before was doubling back, just like that prickling sensation. It was less of a tingle and more a shiver or chill as you sat there. 

“I think it’s about time for dessert, don’t you?” Mrs. Farrow was saying somewhere far away. “You like chocolate, sweetheart? I made mousse, all fancy-like. It’s not as fancy as the kind you get at that restaurant downtown, the Ivy, but they’ve got fancy ingredients and such…” 

Reaching up to wipe the sheen of sweat from your forehead, you felt heat coming off from between your temples. With a shaky breath, you slumped down in your seat. 

The basket was gone. 

Your chair was scraping against the wooden floor as it was pulled out from the table. 

“Are you feeling alright, my dear?”

Wrinkled hands swept the hair from your face as your eyes rolled in their sockets. Words couldn’t get past the cotton-dry feeling in your throat. 

“It’s the wine, the wine. Said she’s not much of a drinker, it has to be the wine.” 

Cass’s voice was dampened and thick, like it was trapped underwater. 

Or perhaps you were trapped. Your head was spinning, limbs heavy as if you were a puppet sans strings. You had to be picked up from under your arms like a toddler and pulled upright. 

The next second you were walking through your neighbors’ kitchen, the door held open for you. 

“Maybe we oughta call a doctor? Honey, can you hear me?”

“I… yes. I can hear you.” It felt like an Olympic feat, but you spoke clearly. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happening.”

You stumbled against the wall and strong arms caught you when your knees buckled. It was Mr. Farrow allowing you to lean on him, solid as a rock. 

“Cass is right, you had quite a bit of wine.” He said. Another pat to your shoulder.

Did you? You could’ve sworn it was just a glass. 

Your apartment was barren and blank, the smell of laundry comforting against the memory of that earthy incense smell. 

“Get some rest, honey. We’re right across the hall.” 

“Thank you.” You breathed, lying on your sofa bed. “Again, I’m very sorry. Thank you for the welcome.” 

“Oh no, thank you.” 

——

When you opened your eyes next, you were shrouded in darkness. The outline of your entertainment system was in front of you, and the kitchen at your right. 

It was raining outside; little raindrops smattering against the glass. The sound was normal, no longer muffled until you were straining to hear it. 

‘Well that’s good.’ 

The heavy feeling in your arms was still present. 

‘That’s not so good.’

You felt perfectly sane and hysterical at the same time. It was like being caught in the eye of a storm. The danger had abated momentarily, but would begin again shortly. 

Your door opened, and in your peripheral you saw a shadow cut across the wall as a new figure emerged from the hall. 

You squinted in the dark. ‘Lou?’ 

The duck’s silhouette stilled as if you’d spoken aloud. You could feel something shift in the air, tension breaking through to your mind when it could not seize your body. 

That shift grew stronger, sucking in the air around it until a dazzling flash and crack of light blinded you. 

Lou’s shadow was gone. Or… it had changed. The shadow on the wall wasn’t a duck anymore it was… 

Your blood ran cold as the man stepped into your apartment and let the door close behind him. 

“Hello there!”