#This turned out sadder than I expected

[terra-wisp]

Day 10: "In Between" || 462 Words || Fleurmione (Beauty and the Beast AU - But not in the way you think) @sapphicmicrofics

“Hermione! I do not know where all this dust comes from, but I do not appreciate all this extra work you give me!” 

Fleur’s voice echoed throughout the vast room that was the Master’s library. Normally, the monstrous prince and his initially unwilling guest were frequent visitors, but today it was just Fleur and Hermione.

A singular feather duster flipped onto the shelving dedicated to Herbal Remedies, almost as if an unseen hand held it as it cleaned yet another layer of unending dust. The wand worked diligently, with the grace of a dancer. All the while, Fleur’s voice continued to chat to her silent audience. 

Eventually, the tool of lacquered wood and feathers stopped, and in a surprisingly human motion two of its feathers separated from the rest to pantomime putting one’s hands on their hips. It was then that the face along the handle was properly seen and it did not look amused. 

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” The feather duster, now revealed to be the lone chatty speaker within the vast room, called out. 

There wasn’t a verbal answer. Fleur hadn’t expected one, though it would’ve been nice. Instead, she spotted various tomes push themselves so they stuck out within their brethren. 

“Years within Colors” By Saint Sinclaire

“Overtures of the Last Century” By Poppy Earkat

“Universal Remedies for an Ailing Heart” By Holga Von Lipst

“Linseed Oil and its Many Uses” As contributed by the Sosh Valley Winery

The feather duster bounced from title to title as they each popped out, but she paid no attention to the books themselves and their content — simply the first letter. By the time the final title had revealed itself, Fleur was as close to breathless as a cursed inanimate object could be. 

But she got the message.

Y-O-U-L-O-V-E-M-E-A-N-Y-W-A-Y

The once proud head maid of the former Prince’s staff let out a shuddering sigh. 

“I love you too, mon lionne.” She tentatively placed a single feather against the red oak of the shelf she rested on. It had been so many years since the curse had stolen their bodies away. And while Fleur had retained some autonomy, the steward of the library had not been so lucky.

Hermione was here, and Fleur knew that they were amongst the lucky ones to not be separated from their significant other but it had been so long since she had heard her lover’s posh London accent.

“I am selfish, but I miss hearing your voice.” 

The books shuddered as another phrase was spelled out.

O-N-E-D-A-Y

The books were quick to straighten themselves out, likely because of the voices of their Master and the woman that the castle had put their hopes in. 

Fleur only hoped that it wouldn’t be too late. [A/N: Walked in on some people talking about Fleur as a feather duster in Beauty and the Beast, and I had a "huh" moment. This goes to you dorks. Also, if you spot my attempts at being clever...] [A/N 2: This is NOT part 3 of my random 3 part micro fic trilogy. I got waylaid.]

[sualne]

Sorry if you're already working on this but with Luffy in Croc dad what's his hobby?? Like he's the biggest ball of energy and I think if wasn't fighting wild animals as a kid he would vibrate into another dimension from lack of stimulation. Does he draw and develop his art skills, has he taken up music or is he invested with the void century with Robin? Croc wants to keep him inside and safe so what did he think would be best to entertain him or does he buy a new thing every week that Luffy says he suddenly wants to do. Yes he looks at books but is that it. Also sorry if you answered this before and I've missed waht you said, I am pretty sure I've seen all your comics on this but I haven't seen all your ask answering questions.

i hadn't gotten these questions and im so glad you ask!! :D

so! luffy doesn't have one specific hobby and croc does end up giving him whatever he wants when he suddenly gets a new obsession, one of the reason he's so excited with finding the jewelry box and getting a dagger is because it's finally something new! after that he gets really into rings and knives until it gets bored of it and switch to something else again.

about him and learning about the void century with robin i actually got a comic later for that so i won't say anything here!

im going to make this a list and explain how it goes, under read more:

Fighting: this luffy doesn't know how to fight, but he still love the concept! he gets really excited hearing stories of fights, duels, martial arts and all the rest! In practice though, since he's been so sheltered and only ever saw one real fight that ended up with people being killed in front of him as a kid, if (haha) he were to witness another real fight he wouldn't be as giddy about it as when he hears stories. he does also learn the tiniest bit of kenpo from bonclay!

Dancing: luffy in canon loves dancing (and partying), here too! he doesn't know/master any specific styles but likes to drag people into dancing with him, if no one is around he'll grab some of the smaller bananawani instead.

Singing: he's still very bad at it.

Music: croc noticed how he'd taps on thing and tried to get him to learn some percussion, unfortunately for him, luffy doesn't care about music theory and just does whatever makes him happy. he also love loud noises and croc has to find a way to stop him from making a racket at any hours of the day, it gets worse when luffy loses some of his hearing and needs to make everything even louder. eventually he gets bored of it too.

Cooking: him and croc cooks together pretty often, if no one is there to supervise him luffy will ignore recipes and common sense, making all kind of abominations. it's a miracle he never set the kitchen on fire.

Bugs: he loves them! he collect them! alive. croc is horrified one day when he finds out baby luffy has been letting some food to rot so he could observes flies and larvae going through their little bug lives cycle. later croc gives him those pinned dead bugs collection boxes thinking luffy will like it, he doesnt.

Board&Cards Games: he mostly has to play them by himself, he doesn't like being alone so he'll often ends up playing it "with" the banawanis. after he loses a few too many times against the banawanis and can't get croc to join in for the millionth time he gives up on them. even when robin joins baroques works he still expect her to be too busy to play with him and doesn't ask (she would have accepted if he had asked).

Art&Craft: he tries a bit of everything, doing it his own way meaning most of it is kind of hideous or about to fall apart, canon luffy is completely fine with that, au luffy though, he's having ton of fun at first but when he gets old enough to see that his dad cant quite fake his enthusiasm or interest towards his disastrous creations he gets frustrated and stops for a while. later, robin finds an old drawing of his and thinks its cute so he start doodling a little again for her.

basically, he struggles keeping a hobby, some like fighting, dancing, bugs and staring at pictures in geography books he keeps through his life but mostly, he's very lonely and bored out of his mind, he's depressed, that's not something that can be helped for as long as he's isolated.

when robin becomes a part of his life everything gets better for him! she spends time with him, read stories for him, helps him get out more often, they even meet bonclay and for a few years he's genuinely happy.

[fledermoved-too]

@outoftheirdifferences asked:

"You're very sure of yourself, aren't you?" Angel, for Chief maybe? From the angry and irritated meme ^^

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"Well a'course I am!" Chief snipped, baring his teeth in a gesture of disdain. The larger dog slunk a few feet away, pacing the ground as he watched the road carefully and expectantly. "He's gonna be right back here any minute now."

Chief had been left behind. He had watched as paramedics took his beloved master away, and he did his best to follow for miles, only to finally fall back in exhaustion to a nearby stray.

Amos would come back.

Amos always came back.

He shot an angry glare to the mutt next to him. "and I ain't gonna hear a word outta you."

════◈◉◈════

[detonizing]

HE’S SAD NOW!!!

[allfearstofallto]

Sweetheart <3

Yandere! Scaramouche x fem! Reader

Synopsis: You have a strange lover with no name, who you dub sweetheart

Word count: 2.7k

TW: Yandere, obsession, manipulation, stalking

Chimes. That's how you knew he was coming, a noise that could only be coming from him. What sounded like wind chimes in the air would make your ears perk up. The large, lavish hat that he wore to protect him from the sun and the rain, had little bells on them that jingled and sang when he walked.

“A song just for you,” he once said while placing the hat on your head and you giggled with shy, girlish delight. The weight of it was heavier than you'd expected, but it smelled of him. A scent you could bask in.

You called him sweetheart. A name that he rolled his eyes and scoffed at the first time you said it. You told him time and time again that you didn't know his name, nor did he give you something to call him, so you came up with a placeholder, until he decided to open up to you. Sweetheart. You referred to him as sweetheart.

Whether or not he hated the name was debatable. He told you many times that a pet name as soft as that didn't suit someone like him, but he never explained what that meant. He never told you what someone like him was, he never told you anything about himself, not his name, not where he was from, and not even what he did for work. What little he told you about himself, was barely enough to decipher him.

But what you could see was that he was beautiful. He insisted that he hated you incessant compliments, but you could see a meek smile form on his lips after all of your flattering words. Hair that looked like the night sky and skin paler than sand itself. You often compared him to finely crafted statues or even works of art and he would call that nonsense. But you could see the way your words made him glance at himself in the mirror.

He had a tendency of just showing up at your door. You would hear that familiar song of wind chimes and smell citrus in the air and he'd be there. You'd open the door and see him standing there with his arms crossed and his usual frown on his face, an expression that you didn't think suited his soft, delicate features.

“Sweetheart!” You called out to him. His cheeks already flushed from your brazen display of affection and all he did was turn his nose up at you, his way of hiding flustered you were making him.

You wrapped your arms around him, taking in his sweet scent, and begrudgingly, he did the same, “You said you'd write to me,” your voice was a bit sadder now with your face buried in his chest.

His travels took him far, yes, but never once did he send you a letter and he never told you where you could send one to. When he left, it was like he was vanishing into thin air, like a creation of your own mind and when he came back, it was without warning.

“I said I'd try,” he pulled away from the hug and walked into your home like he owned the place, eyeing the small space over as he did every time he visited. It was almost like he was looking for something, or someone, but he knew you lived alone.

You shut and locked the door, trying not to seem disappointed by the way he was acting. At times you questioned if he really liked you. The way he responded towards you was nothing short of disinterest. He turned away from you kisses and stood stiffly in your hugs. Affection from him was a rare gem, but one you cherished.

“I wasn't aware that you liked flowers,” he had stepped into your living room and was staring at a vase filled with a buslte of silk flowers that were sitting near the window. He was rubbing the petals between his fingertips, while waiting for your answer, a disgusted look on his face.

You tilted your head to the side in confusion, “Oh!” You smiled as the change in conversation piqued your interest, very seldom did he mention the decor of your home, “Those were given to me!”

“Given?” He repeated beneath his breath while still rubbing the flower petals, “by whom?”

His face was turned away from you, but you could hear it in his voice. He was angry. The way he was muttering his words, how his shoulders stayed tense, he shook his head a little, even clicked his tongue, all for sure signs that he wasn't happy with what you'd said.

“By…by no one, sweetheart,” you said with a forced, playful chuckle.

He picked the vase up and held it to the light, humming in distaste, “Is that so?”

You nodded quickly.

“If no one gave them to you, we can just get rid of them right?” He didn't wait for your response, just waltzed across the room with ease and dropped the entire vase in the trash, “If you want flowers, I'll bring you some when I come back again.”

When he comes back. You hated when he said those words. They make your heart sink to your stomach. When he came back? Who knew when that would be and it's not like he'd ever tell you where he was going.

“When…when will that be?” You asked hopefully. Every time you asked the questions, you got a response of soon, someday, and whenever I'm near, but never a true answer.

“Must you ask the same things over and over again,” the annoyance in his voice was palpable and he shot a harsh look at you. The thick red eyeliner around his eyes only making his sharp gaze even more menacing.

You liked him. You did. You liked his shy, bashful demeanor. You liked his beauty that could rival that of the finest paintings. And you thought you liked the mystery of him. You thought you did, until you realized how hard it was getting answers from him. Until you realized that with the way things were going, you would truly never know anything about him. Until you realized that even his name, was a luxury you'd probably never receive.

“I just want to know you,” you muttered softly.

“You know enough,” he stepped closer to you until the two of you were face to face. His eyes, those blue orbs that looked deeper than the ocean, were hard to read. A mixture of hesitation, confliction, anger, and a little sorrow.

You couldn't open your mouth to ask what he meant. He was already kissing you. His lips were soft and tasted sweet like fruit, and his kisses were always passionate. His cherry pink lips danced across yours as you slowly began to sink into the kiss.

When it ended, you were left longing. Your eyes stayed closed for a moment too long and only fluttered open after you began to feel his breath against your damp lips. You wanted to say more, but you couldn't. You didn't know what to say. You didn't even know how you could begin a conversation over this.

“Could I at least know your name?” You asked him and you watched his face fall again.

He sighed and pretended to ignore your question, not even bothering to give it the time of day. And that was an answer enough.

Your sweetheart stayed for different amounts of time. Sometimes it was days, sometimes it was weeks, sometimes, it was just a few hours. He let you know when he was leaving, but never told you when he was coming back, and today was the same.

He left you home by giving you another passionate kiss on the lips and a promise to come back before you knew it. You watched the tassels on his hat sway in the wind as he just walked, his form growing farther and farther away until he was just a spec in the distance and then you were all alone again, contemplating what had just happened.

Time waited for no one, and you were included in that statement. When your purple haired sweetheart came to visit, you'd neglect your work as an apothecary to spend time with him. You supposed that's what he was to you. An escape from your mundane life. A mystery you'd never solve, but a passionate one nonetheless.

You gathered all the medicines you made to sell and walked towards the direction of the city. Liyue harbor was bustling, as it always was. Day or night, it was a city that seemed to never sleep. You loved to watch the vibrant way the people moved from your little house on a hilltop, far away from civilization.

It was truly a blessing and a curse. You did grow lonesome out in the mountains, but you had easier access to herbs and flora that normal people wouldn't be able to get their hands on. Plus…being in the city has a way of making your skin crawl.

There was this prickly feeling on the back of your neck that followed you as you walked through the streets and alleyways. A feeling of being watched, of eyes on you somewhere, but you didn't know where. There were people in every direction you turned, all with their own stories and their own lives, going their own way, none of them seemed to focus on you. And yet the feeling never left.

Although you walked alone, you found yourself picking up and listening to the conversations of those around you. Talks of trade and contracts interested you when you had no one to talk to.

But you also heard other whispers. Whispers of things like crime, loan sharks, and most specifically, the Fatui. By the archons above you, you promised to never get yourself involved in any business with the Northland bank. Owned an operated by the Fatui themselves, they gave out deals that seemed too good to be true, and that's because they were.

The harbinger over the bank was one that made you tremble in fear over just the thought of him. You'd never met him in person yourself, but you'd seen him parading through the streets. He has a face that would make girls swoon, but only the ones that didn't know his true intentions.

“The balladeer came through the city again recently,” you heard one lady speak in a hushed whisper.

“The one that wears the fancy hat?”

That's what made you stop in your tracks and you concentrated on that name: The Balladeer? It was one you'd never heard before. You couldn't help, but to stop at the corner, holding your baskest of medicinal herbs close to your chest as you eavesdropped on their conservative out of curiosity of the familiar description.

“Yeah, that's him! He just left a couple days ago,” you felt your heart began to pound a bit quicker now, your mouth going dry. Your sweetheart had left just a mere three days ago.

“Too bad he's Fatui,” she said with with a disheartened sigh, “His face is heavenly, even with that frown he's always wearing.” you could feel yourself gasping for air. It couldn't be him, could it?

But the things lined up, just a little too well. The balladeer left when your sweetheart did, he was also seen wear a fancy hat. The pretty face with the rude expression. It would explain so much.

The secrecy. Why he constantly would leave and travel across Teyvat. His aggression towards you knowing more about him, his lack of a name. All of the pieces of the puzzle clicked together and hit you like a ton of bricks.

You weren't dating some mysterious stranger. You weren't dating “sweetheart”. Your current boyfriend was the balladeer, a Fatui harbinger, and a dangerous one at that from the way the ladies talked about him in hushed whispers.

You bit your lip as you tried to hold back tears. How could you be so stupid? After everything was said, it all made sense and you realized, truly realized the danger you'd put yourself in.

Rushing home, you didn't even sell your medicine for the day. You couldn't bring yourself to stay in the city any longer. Not when you knew that there were Fatui, his subordinates around.

The door to your home was locked and shut tight. The once comforting walls felt like they were closing in on you. The home that you welcomed him to, you let him visit whenever he pleased, you allowed him in with open arms. In this very home, he was lying to you.

A month went by before you saw him again. A month before you heard the chimes, the song that was just for you. A month before you smelt the citrus in the air. All tell tale signs that he was here. He was at your door.

Usually you'd swing that for open and jump into his arms. You kiss him and hug him, you'd drag him into your home and smother him with the affection he pretended to hate. But all you could do was stay as far away from the door as possible, hudded in a corner, you pretended not to know that he was there.

It was gentle at first. The knocking sound. He rarely knocked before, you always knew he was there before he even had the chance to.

“Hey! Open up!” You heard him call, his voice muffled by the wood of the door. Those hurried words of his were followed by more knocking, this time, louder and harder.

“(Y/N)! Open the door!” More loud knocking, enough to shake the house, “Why aren't you answering?!”

You bit your lip to muffle your cries. He was out there. The fatui harbinger. The balladeer. Your sweetheart. He was out there, begging to be let in. It was him, you told yourself, it was your lover. So, why were you so afraid?

The banging turned to the pounding and the pounding made the wood of the door start to splinter. You had slid further back into the corner of your home, covering your mouth to quiet yourself as your tears wet your hand.

Kick after kick after kick, until the door was barely hanging on by the hinges. He could finally see you, through a crack in the door. His face was red with rage, but his eyes were wide with worry and concern.

“I told you to open the door!” He yelled at you, finally kicking away the last piece of wood that kept you from him. His chest was heaving, but he didn't make a move towards you. In his hand, he was holding a bouquet of flowers, so tightly that the paper was crumpled, “Why... why are you hiding from me?”

You didn't answer his question. Looking at the man before you now, it wasn't your sweetheart. It wasn't your lover. It wasn't who you'd come to truly care for after these months. He really was the Balladeer.

You watch his face twist and contort with a mix of emotions. A scowl, a frown, a grimace. Fear and anger flicker across his face so quickly, it's like a blur. But then it settles. It all settles. A single tear down his cheek is the only sign left of sweetheart before his face turns to that neutral expression. That frown that didn't suit his heavenly features.

The flowers were dropped to the ground, wilted and forgotten, and he stepped closer to you, over what remnants of a door you had.

“You know?” He asked in pure disbelief, a pain in his eyes that you couldn't even describe, “You found out?”

Your trembling form wasn't enough to sway him. He was used to being looked at this way by others, but by you, it did hurt a bit more.

“Why didn't you tell me?” you whimpered between sobs. Your pathetic display obviously wasn't enough to melt his frozen heart. He merely kneeled in front of you, unaffected by the way you slinked away from him in fear of what he as a harbinger could do.

“Because I knew you would look at me like this,”

[sofiareidings]

Drunk Words Are Sober Thoughts

Summary: At the New Year's party at Rossi's you have a little to much to drink and Spencer has to take you home. What will happen when the clock strikes midnight though?

A/N: Stated in the title but I'm also stating it now, this one-shot does mention alcohol. Also, thank you so much for all the love on yesterday's post! I'm going to try and post a story everyday until I start school, (September 6th) once I get back into the rhythm of school I'll try and make a posting schedule.

Word Count: 0.9k

Song Suggestions: Pacific - Sleeping At Last

Rossi had invited the entire team over for a New Years party. It had been a tough year, and everyone needed it. You spent the evening having fun, talking, dancing, and drinking.

Maybe a little too much drinking. It was thirty minutes to midnight and Garcia had finally cut you off. “I love you sweetie, but you’re sticking to water for the rest of the night.” You sighed at her comment and decided the best idea would be to vent about it to someone else.

“…and now she’s only giving me water!” You slumped back in the chair while Spencer just shook his head. He was completely sober that night and could tell how drunk you were. He knew it was time for you to go home. He stood up, putting a hand out for you to grab.

“Come on, it’s time to go home.” Taking his hand you groan and reluctantly grab your stuff while mumbling to yourself about the injustice. Once you got to Spencer’s car you turned on his radio, the first channel was a strange classical music channel and immediately changed. The next channel was counting down to midnight while playing what you assumed was the top 100.

Rossi’s mansion wasn’t far from your apartment complex and Spencer had gotten there in less than ten minutes. “Fifteen minutes till midnight! I wonder who my Near Year’s kiss will be. This next song is…” When the song started you stopped listening and turned to Spencer.

“I don’t want to be alone at midnight, can we stay here until then please?” The sentence came out a lot sadder than you expected. “And then if you’re here at midnight…I can have a New Year’s kiss.”

“Y/N…you’re drunk.” His face was red, you were drunk. He knew that but, the quote, ‘drunk words are sober thoughts.’ was all he could think of. He didn’t want to take advantage of the state you were in and didn’t dare try to make any advances. “We can stay here until midnight.”

“Only ten minutes until midnight folks! Here’s number two on…”

You were at the emotional stage of drunkenness, it was quite evident by the way you cried a little while talking. “You’re so cute, Spence. Whenever you make that little confused face when I talk about pop culture I can’t help but die inside because you look so pretty. Like a lost puppy…and when you wave instead of shaking someone's hand because shaking hands are gross or whatever I just melt. And everytime you wear your glasses I can’t focus on anything other than your cuteness…”

He was blushing hard but was still making sure not to take anything serious. “T-thanks Y/N, I really appreciate that…” His sentence trailed off as he watched your hand grab onto his arm and stay there. The butterflies were going crazy and he knew he needed to get out of here. “Why don’t I take you up to your apartment? I’ll stay till midnight but I want to make sure you make it the full way home.”

“That’s such a good idea, why didn’t I think of it!” You groaned while going to open the car door. The handle was jammed, when Spencer noticed he got out of the car leaving you alone in the car for a second.

“Six minutes until midnight! Here is the last song of the night folks…”

The door opened and there he stood, holding your bag and jacket waiting to take you upstairs. Opening the front door of the building you looked at your phone clock.

“11:57” You stated while he hit the elevator button. While waiting you managed to make your way to the live broadcast of the ball drop in New York.

“We are two minutes and fifteen seconds away from midnight!”

The elevator opened and you hit the button to take you to the third floor.

“Would you look at that, only a minute and twenty seconds left everyone.”

Spencer grabbed your hand and walked you towards your apartment while you listened to the announcer blasting from your phone.

“Thirty seconds!”

A loud countdown started on your phone while Spencer looked for your house key in your bag. You watched him try every key.

“Ten!”

You hear a little click and he starts turning the key.

“Nine!”

The key gets stuck in place.

“Eight!”

He jimmies with the key.

Seven!”

The lock finally opens.

“Six!”

The door opens and you walk in.

“Five!”

You lean against the wall while Spencer shuts the door.

“Four!”

He turns your hallway light on.

“Three!”

You hear the sound of your purse hitting the table.

“Two!”

Spencer walks back over to you, preparing to say goodnight after the countdown.

“One!”

In a moment of drunken boldness you wrap your hands around his neck and press your lips against his. He’s shocked and stumbles back a little, not sure what to do. You can feel his arm wrap around your waist tightly. After a couple seconds you let go and stagger backwards smiling. “Happy New Year’s.”

“Yeah, happy New Year’s…” He’s still in shock but makes sure that you make it to bed before leaving.

‘Drunk words are sober thoughts.’

Walking back down to the parking lot his mind is full of so many different thoughts. He’s not sure how seriously he should take your advances. What if you won’t remember them in the morning? What if it isn’t what you really feel? The final thought, one that had been coming back to him all night.

[almondest]

Favorite Crime

:: Blade ， Jing Yuan ， Dan Heng ， Sampo ， Gepard

summary: breaking up under certain circumstances, adhering to you as their favorite crime.

a/n: ib by what I'm currently going through RAAAAAAAAAAAA (expect for more angst in the coming days)

The things you did.

You played a significant role in him. Blade was sure you two would last longer than expected, but it was never bound to happen.

When you asked to end things with him in unfortunate circumstances, he felt his whole world turn upside down. The way all the things you did reflect in his vision every night.

There was no remedy for those memories, your face played like a melody that won't leave his head.

"Why..?" He meekly whispered. he was facing you, the tears that were threatening to fall down those crimson eyes were so forcibly kept. Instead, he just looked at you, scanning those eyes of yours in an attempt to convince himself that you were just joking.

"I'm sorry Blade. I-I just have too much on my plate right now..." You whispered back, before turning away from him. "I love you Blade, I really do. But because of this, I had to cut you off. for our sake."

Well, I hope I was your favorite crime.

He loves you so much, that he doesn't want to see you hurting. But Jing Yuans method, brought you down and just made you sadder than you already were.

You thought you knew him, but I guess you didn't. He hides so much stuff that you just wished he'd be free to tell you anything and everything.

"So, you were engaged?" You looked at him dejected, tears were slowly blurring your vision. "So you knew..."

"And you were planning to keep me from the dark? Do you never plan to tell me? I wouldn't have known if Yanqing never told me." Your tears finally gave out, breaking down right in front of him. "I was trying to get you to hate me!" You sighed, wiping away the tears that stained your cheek.

"Maybe we need to cool off for a while? Or better, Maybe we need to gather enough time for ourselves." You turned your back on him. "I love you. I really do, but maybe this isn't the right time for us."

It's bittersweet to think about the damage that we'd do.

After a heated argument with him a few days ago, you two gradually made up. But you always felt that deep inside, something was going on with Dan Heng. He was slightly colder, the vibe he gave off whenever you two met felt unfamiliar. It was as if, the love that once radiated to the two of you disappeared like nothing.

"I can't help but think, that as if we're strangers heng..." You started, walking towards the couch to sit beside him. "is something going on? You know you can tell me..." You whisper, taking his hand and playing with it.

He remained silent, treating you like a breeze of wind. 'No, nothing is going on my love...' Is what he wants his mouth to speak out but nothing comes out. "Did I do something wrong again? Please talk to me..." You started pleading, tightening your grip to his hand. 'No..You never did.'

Yet despite your pleas and begs, he never shared a glance with you. "[Name], let's end this." 'Fuck, please don't cry.'

Cause I was going down and I was doing it with you.

The first few years of your relationship was a blast. It was fun, it was something you never experienced with others before. Sampo was someone you gave your heart to ever so fast. But sometimes, these can be bound to break.

"You don't understand!" You screamed, accidentally throwing the vase of flowers that he gave you for your 3rd anniversary a few days ago, immediately feeling guilt rush through you.

He raised both his hands as a sign of surrendering. "[Name], my darling please don't get mad anymore... I swear I'll never really do it again!" You irked at those words of his. No matter what he says, you no longer felt the urge to give him another chance.

"Sampo, I'm done. Let's stop this..." You sighed, tears threatening to fall. "Once a thief, always a thief."

But I say that I hate you with a smile on my face.

He's beginning to grow distant. Gepard who once knew how to balance both his time for work, and for you was no longer there. After the whole fiasco of having 3 wanted people, he gradually lost time with you. And whenever he had, you did your best to get him to cheer up and spend time with you, but all you ended up receiving was a harsh cold shout of "leave me alone!".

"I'm home." A soft masculine voice echoed through your shared apartment but you never ought to give a response.

Soft creaking of the wooden floorboards were subtly heard, stripping your attention off to the newspaper you were reading. "Ah, you're home..." You unenthusiastically greeted.

You knew deep down that he had reasons as to why he acted that way for the past few weeks, you tolerated it and understood his situation. But when he actually shouted at you more louder than before gave your last straw.

Never once did he apologize after lashing out on you, never once did he even try to check up on you right after.

"Gepard, do you love me?" You asked, breathing in the courage to finally say it out. "Hmm? What's up? Of course I do... You don't know how much I do." He softly mouths, walking near you to give you an embrace he longed for.

"Oh, is that so?" You asked. "Are you doubting me?"

Long pause. Long pauses. Silence.

"I... Maybe we need space for a little while?"

[avastrasposts]

A Baker's Dozen - Six

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stand alone short stories, all set in the same bakery.

Hello!

I can't believe it's already the halfway point for A Baker's Dozen, Pedro boy number six is waiting in the wings. But before I let him in I just want to say a massive thank you for all the love all you lovely people gave Ezra. It was a bit sadder than others but there always a chance of him re-appearing...

I'm dropping chapter today seeing as tomorrow is New Year's Eve, from next week I'll be back on my regular Sunday evening posting.

Also, don't miss all the #pickledpena fics that'll be posting on January 1st! And follow @pickled-pena to see them all in their pickled Peña glory.

Happy 2024 all you lovely people!

Series Master List

He puts out the cigarette just before he steps through your door on a quiet afternoon. You’re busy placing some fresh coffee cake in the display case and he’s the only customer in the shop. Crouched down, almost out of sight, it gives you a few seconds to observe him as he looks around the shop. He’s handsome, dangerously handsome, and holds himself with a nonchalant air of confidence that makes you think he’s aware of how good he looks. No man would wear jeans that tight if he didn’t know his body could pull it off, his generous package clearly framed by the crotch of the dark wash denim. A black, short sleeved, shirt stretches across his broad shoulders, one too many buttons undone, yellow aviators nonchalantly hanging from the neckline. And as you drag your eyes away from the freckles of his chest and up to his face, you’re met by his dark eyes, an almost scowl marring his handsome features as he locks eyes with you. 

You stand up, placing the now empty tray on the counter and put your customer service smile on, squashing a nervous squeal in your belly. 

“Hi, welcome, how can I help you?” you say, wiping your hands on your apron as the man approaches. 

“I’m lookin’ for a bakery that does Mexican things, I need a Tres Leches cake,” he says, his eyes leaving yours and scanning the shelves of your display case as you shake your head. His Texas drawl is subtle but the low register of his rich voice emphasizes it and sends a little shiver down your spine.  

“I’m afraid I don’t have any for sale today, but I can make one for you, if you’d like to order?” you reply and you’re surprised when his face seems to fall and he sighs deeply, annoyance rolling off him like the warm scent of his aftershave. 

“Do you know any Mexican bakeries in town?” he asks, “I’m sure yours is good, but I really need the cake today.” He puts his hands on his hips and you’re momentarily distracted by the way his shirt stretches, the buttons hanging on for dear life as his wide shoulders spread even more. 

“Sorry,” you reply, “there’s not exactly a big Mexican community in this town, so no bakeries that do Tres Leches regularly. Maybe you can find another cake that will suit the occasion?” 

The man drops his head, briefly looking at the toes of his dress shoes before he meets your eyes again, his brow furrowed.

“It’s got to be a Tres Leches, sorry.” 

“Then I’m afraid I can’t help you,” you say, shrugging and expecting him to turn around and leave. But instead he remains in front of the counter, looking at you as you start straightening the cups on the counter, just to have something to do, the man’s intense gaze is unnerving.

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath, sharp enough for you to startle, and his eyebrows shoot up, “Sorry, that wasn’t at you. And thanks anyway.” 

He turns and yanks open the front door, exiting out onto the street where he stops, looking left and right before glancing back at you through the window. He locks eyes with you for a beat, and then he stalks off, long legs in tight jeans disappearing down the street. 

He stays on your mind for the rest of the afternoon, not because of the need for a specific cake, but because of the way he’d reacted to being denied it, disappointment that seemed to hit something more than just missing out on what, you supposed, was a special request from someone close to him. Women, especially brides-to-be, could be very emotional and stressed about the specifics of their cakes, but you’d never heard a man curse when he couldn’t get the cake he wanted. You wonder if you should maybe make a Tres Leches cake, just in case he comes back, but decide against it. There are plenty of bakeries in town capable of making them instead of you, he’s probably not even coming back to your bakery anyway. 

By the next day you’ve forgotten about him, the day running past fast as your shop assistant handles the steady flow of customers that Saturday’s always bring. You’re busy in the kitchen baking the last batches for Sunday and planning the week ahead, getting your orders in. As a spur of the moment decision, you add a couple of cans of evaporated milk and condensed milk, the Tres Leches man popping up in your mind as you scroll through the whole seller's website. . 

On late Sunday afternoon you start cleaning the shop and the kitchen, the foot traffic always dies down the last hour before closing on Sundays and you send your shop assistant home.You use the last hour to reset everything for Tuesday, Monday being your day off. 

The sound of the bell on the front door rings as you’re on your hands and knees in the kitchen, wiping out the back of a counter under your workbench.  “I’ll be out in a second,” you call out to the customer. 

“No rush,” a dark voice comes back to you, the Texan lilt familiar. You stand up so fast you almost bang your head on the bottom of the shelf, stumbling to your feet and smoothing down your apron and your hair. There’s a small mirror on the wall just by the door into the shop, so you give yourself a quick glance, hastily wiping the sweat off your forehead and rubbing away a dusting of flour on your cheek. 

“Hi,” you say as you step into the shop, “how can I help you? I’m afraid I still don’t have any Tres Leches cake.” 

The handsome man is still wearing jeans so tight they look painted on, but this time they’re a light wash denim and his short sleeved shirt is white, the yellow aviators hanging even lower in the deep V of his chest. 

“I wanted to apologize for that,” he says, stepping up to the counter, “And I’d like to order one, if that’s alright?” 

“Sure, that’s fine, I’m closed tomorrow but I could have it for you by Tuesday afternoon if that works?” 

“Whatever suits you,” he replies, some of his earlier confidence coming back as he not too subtly lets his eyes give you a once over. “I’m sure it’s worth waiting for.” 

“Didn’t seem like it on Friday,” you say, biting your tongue as the words slip out. The man gives you an unreadable look, you’re not sure if he's insulted or not. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, “that was uncalled for, I’m sure you had stuff going on that made the cake an essential part of your Friday. 

“No, I apologize, I was rude,” he replies, shaking his head, “I was just having a bad day, I…” he trails off, rubbing a large hand over his clean shaven cheeks under his neat mustache, dropping his eyes to the floor before he looks up at you, his eyes suddenly doleful and tired, “I’ve just been a bit homesick lately, and Tres Leches was my mom’s favorite cake, and mine too, she used to make it for my birthday. She passed a few years ago and I just wanted to be reminded of her.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I’d be very happy to make you one, but it probably won’t be as good as your mom’s.” 

“I look forward to trying it though,” he gives you a crooked smile, “All your stuff here looks delicious.” He waves his hand over the display case but he’s looking at you and your apron suddenly feels very warm around your body. 

“S-so Tuesday afternoon works for you?” you ask, clearing your throat and the man nods with a smile, like he knows the effects his looks, and his tight jeans, are having on you.

“What name should I put on the order form?” you ask as you grab a pen to fill it in.

“Javier Peña,” the man replies, stepping forward and leaning on his forearms on the counter, watching you note down his name, “I think you should write down my number too,” he says, looking up at you, “just in case you need to call me, for whatever reason.” 

The image of a baby cow looking up at you through thick lashes flits across your mind as he smiles, his eyes are deep brown and suddenly very innocent looking despite the very suggestive tone of his voice. 

“Oh you’re good,” you chuckle, letting him take the pen and jot down his number, “Do you really want the cake, or are you just flirting?” 

“Can’t I do both, cariño?” he grins, pushing off from the counter and winking at you as he comes to his full height, making you look up at him again. 

“Sure, but you’re only getting the cake,” you smile back at him and now it’s his turn to chuckle, a dimple on his cheek as he regards you with a playful look. 

“I’ll be happy with just the cake, but I’ll keep hoping,” he replies, still grinning as he pats down his jeans, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket, “What do I owe you?” 

“Pay on delivery,” you say and he arches one of his eyebrows with a cheeky smirk. 

“So that’s how I get you to use my number, will you chase me down if I don’t turn up on Tuesday?” 

“Something tells me you’re used to women chasing you down,” you say, trying to keep your heartbeat under control as he cocks his head, another arched eyebrow, “so I should probably just play it cool and count on your turning up for the cake.” 

“When do you close up on Tuesday?” he asks, the corner of his mouth quirking up, as he puts away his wallet. 

“Seven, but the cake will be done before then,” you reply and he nods. 

“I’ll be here before seven,” he says, “you can count on it, cariño.” He winks at you again and you curse the butterflies that immediately take flight in your belly. 

He gives you a wave as he takes a nonchalant step back towards the door before turning, his tight jeans giving you a perfect view of his tiny butt, you’ve really never seen any guy wear jeans that tight and you can’t help but let your eyes linger. 

‘Really…’ you think to yourself, ‘how does he even walk down the stairs in those jeans?’ 

A Tres Leches gets better the longer it can sit in the fridge and absorb all the liquid that’s poured over it, so you get started as soon as Javier leaves. By the time you’ve cleaned up the kitchen and done your usual Sunday night prep, the sponge cake is cooling on the counter. 

Ordinarily you wouldn’t come in on your day off but the Tres Leches needs three types of milk poured over it, so at lunchtime on Monday you stick your key in the lock and turn off the alarm to the shop. 

“Hey, I thought you weren’t open today?” a deep voice says behind your back just as you punch in the code. 

“Oh shit!” you shriek and spin around, your hand on your heart, as Javier’s hands come out to steady you. 

“So jumpy, cariño,” he chuckles, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“You’re sneaky, jeez,” you gasp, hitting the off button on the alarm that’s still beeping, “please, give a girl a warning before you jump out like that.” 

He follows you into the shop, apologizing again as you flick the lights on. 

“I’m sorry, I was just on my way to grab some lunch and I saw you open up the shop, I wanted to say hi and thank you for making the cake,” he smiles and you feel his hand come out and gently brush over the small of your back as you walk past him into the kitchen. The warmth of his hand makes you stutter, trying to keep your cool at his proximity. 

“T-that’s fine, but the cake isn’t done yet,” you say, “and the shop isn’t open, I’m just here to pour the milk mixture on it.” 

“You should’ve told me to pick it up on Wednesday instead, I don’t want to make you work on your day off,” Javier says, leaning against the door frame of the kitchen as you open the fridge and take out the cake. 

“It’s fine, this is quick, I’ll be done in ten minutes, then I’m leaving again,” you say as he watches you with those dark eyes, they follow you around the kitchen as you take out a pan and the three types of milk needed. 

“You have plans for the afternoon?” he asks, crossing his arms and the blue shirt stretches tight across his shoulders. You can’t help but glance at the way it hugs his biceps and he notices, his body settling into the pose a little bit more, thick fingers drumming against the taught fabric over his arm as he smiles at you. 

“Yeah, I have a date at the fair,” you say, pouring the milk into the pan and turning on the heat, from the corner of your eye you see him shift and straighten up a little. 

“A date huh…” he says, “Your boyfriend?” 

“No, just a blind date, a friend set us up,” you reply, stirring the condensed milk into the regular milk. 

“Ok, I hope you have a nice time then,” Javier says, his brow furrowed, standing up and thumping his fist lightly on the doorframe, hesitating for a few seconds, “I’ll come by for the cake tomorrow, have a nice afternoon.” He abruptly turns and you hear his footsteps retreat through the shop before you have a chance to say goodbye, leaving you surprised at his sudden departure. After finishing the cake and cleaning up the kitchen again, you leave the shop and lock up. Javier’s sudden departure still seems strange to you, you don’t know him at all, but he’d suddenly seemed offended by your date, even jealous. He’s a flirt, and you couldn’t help flirting back a little, but you really don’t think he’d be jealous of your blind date. Would he be?   

The next day you’re not sure if he’ll come for his cake after all, but you are hoping he will. The blind date had been a miserable affair and you bowed out after suffering through a painful hour of stilted small talk about small business taxes. Javier’s crooked grin and tight jeans had been on your mind throughout the afternoon as your date droned on.. 

Towards the end of the day you take the cake out and cover it in whipped cream and decorate it with fresh strawberries. And thankfully, a few minutes before seven the doorbell jangles and you look up to see Javier walk through the door, giving your heart a little jolt of excitement. But although he’s not exactly scowling, the yellow aviators cover his eyes and the corners of his mouth are downturned under the edges of his neat mustache. It’s a stark contrast to the bright pink shirt he’s wearing today, the color clashing with the apparent mood he’s in. 

“Hi Javier,” you say, giving him what you hope is your flirtiest look, wanting to coax him back to the flirtiness he’d displayed on previous visits, “I guess I won’t need your number after all,” you say, giving him a sweet smile as you watch his lips quirk up in response. 

“Maybe you should hang on to it, in case that new boyfriend doesn’t work out,” he smirks, coming up to the counter and leaning on the display case, long legs in tight jeans casually crossed as he gives you an appreciative glance up and down. You’d removed your apron a little bit earlier, changed into a nicer top, fixed your hair, only stopping yourself as you considered adding lipstick. 

“No, that was a bad date,” you scrunch up your nose at him, “I had to make up an excuse after an hour.” 

“Too bad,” he says but his crooked grin leaves you in no doubt about the fact that he’s very much not sorry about the failed date, “You should’ve let me take you out instead, I would’ve made sure you didn’t need any excuse to leave.” He gives you a quick wink, taking off his aviators, and you feel your cheeks heat up as he smirks and swipes a thumb over his bottom lip. 

“About that cake, querida?” 

The casual pet name ramps up the heat in your cheeks another notch and you’re grateful for the chance to turn around and head for the kitchen.

“Yeah, sure, let me get it,” you throw over your shoulder and yank the fridge door open, carefully sliding the cake box out. 

“Here, I boxed it for you, but have a look, make sure it’s what you wanted,” you say, putting the box in front of him as you get back to the counter 

“I’m sure it’s perfect,” he replies, but he still slips the paper lip from its hold and flips up the lid. He looks down at it for a beat and the casual confidence slips from his face, replaced by something you can’t place, almost as if he suddenly disappears from the shop, finding himself in another setting, looking at another cake. 

“Is…is it as you expected?” you ask timidly when he doesn’t move, his eyes still on the cake, and he blinks and looks up at you, his eyes soft and warm.

“It’s perfect, just perfect, thank you,” he replies, his tone suddenly sincere and raw in a way you didn’t expect, it’s just a cake. But he looks down at the cake again and there’s a play of emotions across his face, as if the thoughts in his head are dancing across his features in the space of a few heart beats. You let him have his moment and carefully start tidying up the counter around the till and turn to start cleaning the espresso machine when he clears his throat. 

“This is…uhmm…” he trails off and you look back at him, he’s still got his eyes on the cake but as he rubs a large hand over his jaw he looks up at you, “Do you wanna have a coffee with me? And some cake?” 

“You wanna cut the cake now?” you ask surprised, you thought it was for a special occasion but he nods. 

“Yeah, as a thank you for going out of your way to make it, coming in on your day off and everything,” he gives you a nod towards the coffee machine and grabs a couple of plates from the counter, “Although I should really be serving you but that coffee machine looks pretty advanced.” 

“I’d love to have coffee and cake with you, Javier. But are you sure you want to cut it now? I thought it was for something special?” 

“It was, or it is,” he says, coming round the counter with the cake and putting it next to you. “My mom used to make it for me and on Friday it was ten years ago since she passed….” 

He pauses and adjusts the cake with one hand, the other hooked into the pocket of his jeans, fingers drumming against his leg as you wait for him to continue. 

“I was feelin’ kinda homesick, wanted something to remind me of her,” he clears his throat, looking up at you again as you put down the cloth you’ve been wiping the machine with. His mood on Friday makes sense now, but you never would’ve you have guessed the reason behind it, and you push down the urge to put your hand on his arm. But he seems to shake out of his reverie and he gives you a crooked smile. 

“So how about that coffee, cariño?” 

“Sure,” you smile back at him and you see his eyes soften again, “How do you take it?” 

“Strong and black,” he replies, “Show me where you keep the knives and I’ll get us some cake, at least I can serve you that.” 

You show him and he gives a low hum when he slides the first slice onto a plate, “It smells just like I remember.” 

“Good, I hope the taste reminds you of her too,” you smile. It feels like he’s a different person now, still confident and flirty, and dangerously handsome, but you’re seeing a more human side, something underneath his winks and smirks as you watch him expertly wipe the knife and cut another clean edged slice and slide it onto the plate. 

“If you ever need a part time job, let me know, with those cake skills I’d let you serve my customers,” you remark, jumping up onto the counter next to where Javier’s standing. 

He snorts at your comment, picking up one of the plates and hands it to you, “Trust me, cariño, you don’t want me anywhere near your customers.” 

“No, true, those tight jeans might be a bit distracting for female guests,” you say, “I’d never get anything sold.” 

You bite your tongue, trying to stop your giggle, as you see his eyes widen, the spoon hoovering in the air over his cake slice as he tries to process your words.

“Really, cariño,” he says eventually, shaking his head as he pushes the spoon into the cake, “I didn’t think you minded them, considering the way you’ve been staring at my ass,” he gives you a wink as he puts the spoon in his mouth. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying, I know how distracting they are,” you laugh, “It’s a good thing you left yesterday, I would’ve messed up the cake if you’d kept hanging around my kitchen in those jeans.” 

Javier hums, distracted by the cake as he looks down on it, waving his spoon at it as he chews and swallows. 

“This is delicious, cariño, just as good as my moms, it tastes just like hers.” 

“Thanks, that’s the best compliment I could get,” you smile at him, taking a mouthful of the cake for yourself as Javier reaches for the cup of coffee you’ve placed next to him. 

“Mhm…” he grunts, “strong coffee and Tres Leches, best thing I’ve had in a long time, hermosa.” 

He smiles at you over the edge of the cup, his chocolate brown eyes making you feel flustered as he keeps eye contact when he’s put the cup down. 

“Relly, the best I’ve had in a very long time…” he says, “and the best company I’ve had in a long time too. Tell me, would I really distract you that much in the kitchen?” He takes another spoonful of cake and keeps his eyes on you, staring you down as he cocks his hip and leans on the counter, suddenly very close, making your nerves thrum just under your skin. You can smell the cake on his breath, the coffee from the cup on the counter and his faded aftershave, still lingering on the collar of his pink shirt. 

“You…I-I think you know what you do with those tight jeans, Javier,” you reply and his lips quirk up in response, the corner of his mustache twitching as his eyes move down to your lips and linger there. 

“Why don’t you tell me, cariño?” he smirks, “What do my tight jeans do?” 

You almost roll your eyes at him, the confidence is oozing off him but you can’t deny that he can back it up as he parts his soft looking lips and moves around your legs, stepping in between them, trapping you up on the counter. Your breath hitches as he looks up at you again, his eyes leaving your lips as the tip of his tongue comes out and lightly wets his own. 

Quietly inhaling, you decide attack is the best tactic, and reach out, putting your hand around the back of Javier’s head. 

“Are you going to talk about your jeans or kiss me, Javier?” you ask, and you just have time to see the glint in his eyes, before he leans forward. 

His hand comes up and grabs your jaw, cupping your cheek as his thumb moves across your lips, holding it for a beat before he’s on you. His lips are as soft as they look, molding to your mouth, gently probing to let him in. Your hand tangles into the thick hair at the back of his head, holding on as he pushes forward, widening your legs around his hips, pressed against the cupboard. With a low moan you part your lips to his tongue and he responds, a groan, as he wraps his free arm around your waist, his hand finding your hip and pulling you towards him. The jeans do nothing to hide his growing arousal as you slide right up against his crotch, his kisses are soft but the way he holds you tight, is heated. 

You hook your hand into his belt loop and tug him closer, feeling him roll his hips against you as the taste of the cake and his strong coffee overpowers your senses, his tongue sliding around yours. He’s exploring, his large hand sliding over your jaw, the rough pad of his thumb caressing your skin and finding spots that make you moan and tremble under his touch. It doesn’t take him long to figure out that a gentle nip on your lower lip makes you arch your back and press into him. He makes the most of it as his hand slides up to splay flat over your shoulder blades, holding you close as he continues to explore your mouth.. 

Heat is making your core ache, he’s hard against you, the texture of the denim rubbing against you with each lazy roll of his hips and you have to pant into his mouth, pulling back from him to catch your breath. 

Javier kisses the corner of your mouth as you tip your head back with a groan, drawing a deep breath, and then moves over your jaw, his teeth scraping over your skin, his tongue coming out to taste and lick as he trails kisses down to your neck. When he sinks his teeth into the flesh just under your ear you whimper and grip hard at his hair, hearing him groan against you. He places a wet kiss on the mark his teeth have left and straightens up, looking down at you with half closed eyes. 

“I fucking hated that blind date guy,” Javier growls, still standing close enough for you to feel every twitch of his hard length between your legs, “I should’ve told you to ditch him and asked you to come out with me instead.” 

“I would’ve ditched him, Javier,” you reply, letting your fingers trail over his five o’clock shadow and brush the edge of his mustache.

“So let me take you out tonight instead, finish what we started, cariño.” 

His hands are distracting, one rubbing firm circles over your back, down to your hips, kneading the soft flesh. The other one still on your neck, caressing your cheek, your hair, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips as he keeps his eyes locked on yours. 

“I have to get up at three am, Javier,” you whisper, his lips finding yours again and you lose your train of thought. 

“Rain check,” he mumbles against your mouth, “What are you doing on Sunday night? You don’t work on Mondays.” 

“There’s this guy,” you reply, smiling as he pulls back a fraction to look down at you, one eyebrow raised, “He wears these really tight jeans and I think I should find out if he’s got the goods to back them up”.

“Oh he does,” Javier growls, tugging you closer and making you open your mouth to his eager tongue, pulling a breathless moan from you as he wraps his arms around you again.  

Part Seven

Tag list: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3  @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn

[ritsufeet]

stay with me.

longing [ ft. m. kaiser ]

i don’t want u to leave… in which kaiser longs for you more than he thought he would.

k by cigarettes after sex heavily recommend to listen to while reading!!

all works from luvmouche & ritsufeet on tumblr.

𒁷 sfw, (forced to) made for ivelle (@n6gi)

𒁷 cw// hurt comfort(?), kaiser is too busy for u (dickhead), but it gets better i think, mutual longing, kissing smooch smooch, umm idk what else, kaiser tw🤓, “m” is his nickname given by the reader, rly short fic btw, slightly ooc kaiser but yk what idc!

i made this for ivelle this is literally yhe only bllk fic ill ever make (maybe) also i dont even like kaiser (kurona bwtter) i originally made this in my notes app i had to decide whether or not i eveb wanted to post this on tumblrHelp

synopsis: michael kaiser is a cruel, busy man—yet he finds himself pining for your warmth more than he expected.

not proofread!!!

kaiser, michael

your boyfriend, michael kaiser, who’s a famous, up and coming athlete, never has any time for you.

“i’m leaving, i have a meeting today.” he says, hurriedly pushing his shoes on with heavy sighs. you look at him and frown, “again? m, you never have any time for me anymore…”

“i know, but i’ll make it up to you, i promise. just not today, i’m busy.” he huffs, frowning right back at you, his blonde hair sways messily in front of his face and his fingers coming up to brush them up and out of the way again. you frown deepens and you sigh.

he looks up at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “what? what’s wrong with you?” his question only makes you sadder.

“can’t you stay?”

“no, i can’t. you know this. i said i’d make it up to you, didn’t i? trust my word.” you know this, you already know… but you can’t help but already begin to miss him.

he’s often gone for long hours, sometimes it’s more than just hours. it’s hard loving him when he’s absent majority of the time, and when he’s not gone, he’s doing something else that doesn’t involve spending time with you. what could be so important, anyway? of course, you love him, you love his career and support him with everything you can, but he could at least love you a little back.

you slowly walk over to him when he’s finished putting on his shoes. he looks at you with soft eyes, a face that he doesn’t show often. vulnerability that doesn’t come easily to him, something he only shows to you. “i’m sorry,” he says, his hand cupping your cheek. you relish in his touch, leaning into his palm. “i really wish i could stay too. you know that as well as i do.” he caresses your cheek, sliding his thumb over your skin.

“i get it… you should go, you don’t want to be late, right?” you look at him giving a reassuring smile. “i’ll be here, like i always am.” his heart aches as those words leave you, and the urge washes over him. he brings himself to your lips and kisses you—sweet, quick, and loving. he lets himself linger there for as long as he needs to. he doesn’t want to be late, yet he finds himself not wanting to move a single inch away from you. he wants to stay, wants to be here with you and the comfort of your kisses.

you pull away instead, you put your hand right above his—the one caressing your cheek so gently and longingly that you fear that it’d break his heart if he tore it away—and squeeze it. his face is solemn, his gaze wavering. he’s staring at you, but he looks away, as if hesitant to say anything. then, he looks at you again, and purses his lips. “..i love you.” your reassuring smile turns into a genuine one. “i love you too, m.”

he pulls you into a hug, holding you longer than just a few seconds, and he can hear himself the moment he decided to just go ‘ah, fuck it.’ a barely audible chuckle comes from his voice leaving you wondering what’s so funny.

“on second thought, i don’t think they’ll mind if i miss a day or two.” he says, smiling.

a/n: i hope ur happy ivelle. k bye im tired fuckkk

[xbadmuse]

Girls Dinner - Part I

this is the first part of the story i talked about. let me know if you are interested in the continuation of this.

this is a nsfw story, like everything else on my blog.

this is about Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader x Task Force 141

i did not proof read, please excuse the mistakes.

it was almost night time when you decided to make yourself your dinner. the car lights from outside shining through your window, illuminating on your face and disappearing into the darkness once again. turning your stove on, your mind wandered into places you did not want to explore.

you missed your boyfriend, deeply, but you tried everything to not think too much about him. he was away and you know that he will come back. you did not want these thoughts to creep up on you since you knew that this will only make your situation a lot worse and make you sadder than you already are. while cutting your veggies, your tried to hum a song, not letting all these thoughts get to you as your mind drifted off to the simple things in your life right now, for example your work which you will have to go tomorrow or all the things you still have to do, all the things to keep your mind at bay.

You huffed some air out of your lungs, turning the stove off and adding your seasonings while humming a song, you suddenly heard keys and the door opening to your apartment in one swift motion. You turn around, your face brightening the second you see your boyfriend who has been on a mission for over 4 weeks. Simon walks through the door, throwing his backpack to the side and seeing you standing in the kitchen. His eyes were fixed on you, standing there as he looked at your bare shoulders. You have been wearing little to nothing on your body, with a shoulder less tight crop top and your underwear, thinking you are home alone and ready to spend this night alone as well.

Your smile started to fade the moment you hear muffled voices, and three men entering your apartment as well. The men walking into sight, knowing that you were home, Price, Johnny and Gaz smiled at the sight of you. Eyes widening from all parties as you definitely were not expecting visitors, you were shocked to see all men storming into your apartment but of course you were still happy that they were all alive at least.

You notice Simon standing in the doorway, glancing over at you and then turning to look at Gaz, who has a smirk plastered on his face while he leans against the doorway as well. With the cooking pan in your hand, you looked down at yourself and back up again, watching the men intensely. You cleared your throat at the slight awkward tension in the room. “uhm... good to see you all”, glaring at Simon.

“well…please excuse me for a second”, you tried to smile as friendly as possible, deep down already choking Simon to death for this embarrassing moment. You placed the cooking pan on the stove hurriedly as it started to turn in circles and almost fell off the stove, but you grabbed it in time and saved it before it fell to the ground. Smiling awkwardly, you clumsily hushed past the men, running to your room to change.

Simon turns, following you with his eyes and turning back around, staring at the men, before clearing his throat to get their attention. All three men stopped looking after you and shift their attention over to Simon again.

“yall look like animals” he says loudly and sighs, before walking off in the opposite direction towards your bedroom. You were rushing around in your bedroom, grabbing your joggers out of the closet, and pushing your legs inside as Simon opened the bedroom door and walked inside. You were really happy to see your boyfriend again but so damn furious at him at the same time as you noticed him getting inside and closing the door behind him.

“did I not tell you to text me before you come and take all of your men with you?” you hissed, throwing your shirt over your head annoyed at his stupid grin which you can still see even with his balaclava on. he watched you getting changed but he doesn't say anything, instead, he just leans against a wall, observing you quietly a small smirk forms on his face as you grumble while fixing your hair after pulling your shirt over your head. once you are done Simon continued staring at you, his eyes slowly falling to your chest. You rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head and crossing your arms over your chest “unbelievable Simon...”

Simon sighs calmly, as if trying to avoid an argument but eventually, he takes a step forward and walks over to you his voice is as calming and monotone as ever, looking at you, still grinning, "can you take off that shirt again love?"

you scoff, looking at him confused as you raise your eyebrow, a big question mark on your face. This man is unbelievable, “definitely not Simon” and with that you took off, walking past him and out the bedroom. You were definitely not having his games after standing half naked in front of his comrades even though you always ask him a thousand times to let you know beforehand if he is not coming home alone. You do not have anything against them visiting and needing a place to crash and using your apartment for that but you want to know everything before things like this happen and with Simon having your key to your apartment you are expecting this kind of rule to be understood. You were beyond annoyed at him, he did not even try to apologize and just turned this into his dirty ass game.

Walking back to the kitchen, now fully clothed you started finishing cooking your meal. You added more since you won’t be eating alone anymore. Gaz, Price as well as Johnny sat at the kitchen aisle, talking to you while you cooked, having a normal conversation, and ignoring the awkward tension just moments ago.

As Simon watches you walk away from him, he takes a moment before walking out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He sees them sitting together and talking while you were cooking. he walks over to where you were standing and slowly leans against the counter by your side not saying anything for now.

he leaned against the kitchen counter next to you as you finished preparing the plate for the men. “hey babe”, he said, quietly as you looked up at him. You were still angry, furious even but still deep down you were so excited after hearing his voice again after so long. Simons eyes smiled softly at you, he knows that what he did was wrong, and he knew that he should apologize but he couldn't help it. he loved seeing you like this, angry, a little annoyed at him and yet you were still so beautiful to him.

as you prepared the plates on the kitchen isle where the three men were sitting and started to enjoy their meals, talking,and babbling away, Simons eyes drifted to your body. he slowly leans forward gently placing his hands on your hips whispering, "babe come here...”. looking over to him, he leaned in closer the moment you started to pout playfully. with one swift motion he pushed you to his body as you closed your eyes and felt his embrace.

you wrapped your arms around his body, your head leaning against his chest softly. Simon smiles as he hugs you tightly. one hand firmly gripping your waist, as the other gently rests on the back of your head as you lay it against his chest. Simons eyes flicker over to Price and Soap, who are still busy eating and chatting as well as Gaz who was staring quickly at the two of you smiling.

"You smell delicious, love." Simon whispers. a muffled sound escapes your mouth as a thank you. you nuzzled your face deeper into his chest and inhaled his scent. Cigarettes, after shave and the smell of outside rain, this combination of scents you missed when he was not near you. after a while you pushed yourself off him, realizing that you are not alone. Looking up and into his eyes you smiled.

“do you want to eat?”, you asked him innocently already grabbing a plate for him. Simon smiles and nods softly, in response to your question. Your innocence and sweetness always seem to be able to catch him unaware as he takes the plate from you.

It has been a few hours since the whole task force stormed your apartment, and everyone was ready to crash into bed. Gaz & Price were sharing one of your rooms which had no beds inside but only one couch and a single mattress. Simon you and Johnny were sharing your bedroom. Soap was getting a mattress on the ground and you and Simon were sharing your single bed together. Laying down, your back pressed against his chest, the only sound in the room now was Simons breathing in your neck and Johnnys already sly snoring, knowing that he has already fell asleep pretty fast.

Simon's eyes are closed, as he lays in bed with you, his arms wrapped tightly around you and every movement you make causes you to feel his touch. Your soft breathing and warm body made it hard for Simon to fall asleep. It is not the first time that you are sharing a bed, but it is the first time to share a bed while someone else was in the room with you.

After a while, you eventually stirred waking yourself up a bit as you feel Simon’s arms around you. you sigh softly, "...Simon?". You whisper, “simon please tell me that’s your phone pressing against me” you whispered tiredly again to him. Simons eyes flutter open, he feels you pressing against his body, a sly mewl escapes his lips  as he becomes very aware of your question. he sighs softly out of his nose, feeling the warms on your neck. You turned your head to face him as he looks down at you, "that's not my phone, baby".

Simon was still wearing his balaclava and you felt him lifting it up slowly just over his lips to peek out. he started kissing your neck, sucking gently, holding you tightly against his body. Simon starts breathing heavily, as he continues, one of his hands is on your hair as he pushes it away from your neck, the other holding you close to himself. You feel his plump lips on your neck, as well as his heart beating quickly. his breaths are coming in quick bursts, and you can feel his body moving against yours, his lips go from your neck to your ear, "you smell so good, love...". you feel his nose against your neck as he inhales softly and with that you tried to push away from him, sliding away a little to not be in full contact with him, turning away from him.

Simon sighs slightly, looking down at you, "love what's wrong...?"

“nothing” you muster quietly still not facing him. Simon breaths out of his nose as he scoots closer to you. he gently takes your chin, turning your head towards him, "if there's nothing wrong, then why move away from me?"

“i know what you want to do and i don’t want to do it now.” you whispered, “we’re not alone in this room and I am still annoyed about what happened earlier when you all stormed into the apartment without letting me know beforehand as i asked you to a thousand times”, your eyebrows furrowed looking into Simons eyes, he started nodding, as he lets go of your chin. he turned around, looking looks over to Johnny’s bed. he can't help but laugh quietly, “i think Soap can sleep through a hurricane. don't worry, love. he ain't gonna hear or see anything".

you stared up at him. “you really do not care about what I am thinking and how I am feeling huh?” with that you grabbed the blanket and tossed it away, getting out of the bed. Simon stares at you, as he lets his head rest against his hand watching you get out of bed. he takes a moment, before speaking softly, the balaclava still covering his face, "I do understand, love but you also need to understand that I want you”

“is there any way, ANY way you could just for ONCE think with your brain instead of your dick when you’re around me?” you whispered loudly, still quite enough for Johnny not to hear as you shake your head and walk out of your bedroom and into the living room. you closed the door behind yourself softly and walked to the couch, sitting down and grabbing your phone to distract yourself.

you cannot explain what has gotten into you but you felt like you weren’t ready for what Simon wanted. you loved it when he was with you, you missed him whenever he wasn’t with you but sometimes you wished that he for once doesn’t see you as a woman who he just wants to visit and fuck quickly. of course, intimacy was important to you too but you wished for him to be just a little understanding instead him trying to solve all of your problems with sex. but maybe you were just exaggerating. shrugging your shoulders you continued scrolled through TikTok.

Simon sighs, leaning against the headboard as he takes a deep breath in and overthinking your words. he tried to distract himself by closing his eyes and falling asleep but it was too hard, the urge to take you right here and now was growing more and more. he hates himself sometimes for not being a little gentler and loving with you but just looking at you made him feel crazy. he can't think straight when he sees you like this, the feeling he has closing around his stomach makes him lose his mind. the moment he came home and saw you with only your panties on, he was about to push you against the kitchen counter and just take you while everyone was watching. he was obsessed, too obsessed to understand anything at this point.

Simon stands up and walks over to the door opening it and peering out. seeing you on the couch, he slowly closes the door to your bedroom, walking towards you.

Part II

[maxislvt]

Could I request a dark fic where Vampire!Wanda and Mortal!Reader fall in love, and after getting married, Wanda offers to turn Reader into a vampire but Reader says no. However, years go by and Reader is on their deathbed, about to succumb to old age, when Wanda decides she must turn Reader whether they like it or not.

Thank you!

p.s. i am a simp for Vampire Mommy Wanda

warnings: angst, mention of terminal illness, arguin

I didn't realize the old age part so this is just kinda sadder than need be

Death was the price that came with loving a mortal.

As a vampire, Wanda was cursed to live forever. An eternity filled with nothing but quick flings that would amount to nothing in the end. It was a rather sad love life, but Wanda had convinced herself she was okay with it. With a legacy to keep secret and company to run — her schedule was pretty tight. A relationship would just add more stress. That's what she told herself. Then you came along and ruined a near two hundred year streak of being single.

You were everything Wanda wanted in a lover. Someone gentle and kind to cut down the bitterness she'd collected over the years. It didn't take long for her to realize how much she needed you. Wanda clung to you for dear life. The mere thought of you leaving her sent her into a spiral. You were always quick to put out her fears. You never even considered leaving Wanda. She gave you her everything — you had no reason to.

Wanda wasn't entirely sure what she'd done to make you change your mind.

"You said—" Wanda took a deep breath. She'd never been so upset with you before. "You said you'd never leave me! We were supposed to be together forever." You always had a way of making Wanda feel things that had laid dormant for years. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this upset. Her cheeks burned with hot tears. After everything she had done for you, you were still so comfortable just leaving her? It wasn't fair. "I won't be able to love anyone else."

You flinch at the harsh reality in Wanda's words. "I'm not leaving you. It's just my time to go." You had come to terms with the fact you'd die months ago. The doctors handed you a diagnosis and said you only had so long. Fighting it was futile. You didn't expect Wanda to be okay with it. Finding love after decades of loneliness only to have it ripped away was a pain beyond your imagination. But you only had about two weeks left and you didn't want that dread hanging over your head the entire time. "Just love me as much as you can, while you still can." You spoke as softly as you could. "Come here, I want to cuddle."

Wanda took a deep breath before laying down next to you. Fear still ran hot through her vines. It was making her irrational. "I could do it forever if you'd just let me-"

"I don't want to be turned into a vampire. You have to respect that. "

"I don't want to be alone forever, can't you respect that?"

You sighed and rubbed your temples. "Wanda, you're being selfish. Think about all the people I care about and would have to watch die. I can't do that." Your arms wrapped around Wanda's body and pulled her close. "I don't really want to talk about this anymore. Let's just call it a night. Please?"

Wanda pulled away and looked down at you. She could see life fading from your body. You were paler and the bags under your eyes were getting darker. Even the light in your eyes was starting to fade. It was like looking at a doomsday clock meant specifically just for you. Wanda would do anything to keep that clock from sticking 12. She wasn't going to let you die. Your approval was going to have to take the backseat for her to do that. "Okay, I won't bring it up anymore." She placed a gentle kiss on your lips before laying back down and holding you close.

She wasn't foolish enough to do it while you were awake. Once Wanda was sure you'd fallen asleep, her fangs buried themselves into your lower back. Sickness had tainted the taste of your blood forever ago. The sugary sweetness had now faded into something bitter and medicinal. She sucked until she had taken just enough to turn you. Her tongue licked at the wound so it'd be healed by the morning.

You'd hate her for it. Maybe you'd argue again or run off screaming with the hopes of finding a cure. You would come back eventually. Eventually, Wanda would be the only one you'd have left to run to. It appeared you had figured that out faster than Wanda expected.

Wanda expected nothing less from someone as smart as you.

"Wanda," You whispered from the bathroom. Despite calling for her, you didn't even spare your partner a glance. Your eyes focused on the cut quickly healing on your finger. You wipe away the blood slowly. Focusing on the task to avoid blowing up at the woman standing in the door frame. A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you turned to face her. "Why'd you do it?" The look in your eyes was cold and almost uncaring.

That wasn't the first time you looked at her like that. It certainly wouldn't be the last now that you two had an eternity together.

"I did what I thought was best." Wanda stretched out her arms. "I know it's going to be scary at first, but I'm going to be here with you every step of the-"

You quickly pushed past Wanda. You grabbed a bag and began stuffing your clothes in it. "I can't be around you right now." Every word Wanda said fell on deaf ears as you continued packing. There was nothing she could say that would make you feel better. Just as you tried to zip up the bag, Wanda tried to snatch away. "Wanda, I don't want to hear it!" You shouted before snatching the bag away from her. It felt good to be strong enough to stand up for yourself. You turned and walked away.

"Stop walking away from me and listen!"

Your body stopped dead in its tracks. How could you have forgotten? Turned vampires were nothing to someone from a bloodline as powerful as Wanda's. That was just another way you'd be inferior to her.

Wanda turned your body so you were forced to look at her. "I did what I had to do to keep us happy. I will not sit here and let you make me a villain for putting you first!" She could see the anger burning bright behind your eyes "I gave you my whole heart and I'm not going to let you run off and break it!" It didn't feel right yelling at you. It wasn't your fault you were born a mortal or her a vampire. But something had to be done in order for you two to stay together. Wanda needed reassurance but all you were showing her was animosity. "Say something damn it! I need you!"

For a moment you just stared at Wanda. Fighting the urge to obey her wasn't easy, but you weren't going to let her win.

"I hate you more than anything right now."

[lionlena]

Unforgivable mistake (JoelMillerxreader) Part 6

Summary: Reader is much younger than Joel and is in love with  him. One night, after arguing with Tess and getting drunk, Joel spends  the night with a reader, but in the morning he breaks her heart…  She  runs away from Boston hoping that she will never meet this cold bastard  again in her life. But almost six years later, she unexpectedly sees  Joel in Jackson. She decides to hide herself and her little secret from  this asshole.

Warnings: age gap (reader is about 28 years, Joel 58),  strong language, swearing, past trauma, bullying, attempted rape, memories of sexual abuse, unprotect p in v,  dom!Joel, Joel is asshole, ANGST, hurt, sadness and heartbreaking, sexual harassment, women abuse, violence, injury, sickness.

Part 6

"Mommy, you should kiss Joel."

You nearly dropped the laundry you were hanging outside when you heard what your toddler said. You looked at your son in shock.

"Where did that idea come from, honey?"

Teddy sighed and said, "Because Joel is sad and you always give me a kiss when I'm sad and that helps."

"Oh" was all you could say.

Joel had actually been sadder for the past few days. He was even more reticent and didn't even react to Ellie's taunts. You didn't know if it was because of your talk about forgiveness or the fact that Maria and Tommy were expecting a baby. Well, You thought that was good news, but did Joel was jealous? He had Teddy, after all. He got a second chance.

"Mommy."

You heard your son's impatient voice and realized that "Oh" wasn't considered a sufficient answer. You knelt down next to him and said, "I'm afraid it doesn't work on adults as it does on children. I think Joel might feel weird if I kissed him."

Teddy frowned. "Then hug him... You hugging Aunt Claudia when she's sad."

"You hugging him, and that's better than my hug."

Your son made a sad face, and you felt like you let him down. In his childhood mind, sometimes everything was so simple and you envied him that.

"You know what helps me when I'm sad?" The little boy looked at you curiously. "When you give me drawings and flowers. Maybe after I finish work at the stables, we can go to the meadow so you can pick flowers for Joel?"

"Okay, but if that doesn't help, promise me you'll hug him."

You sighed heavily and nodded your head.

At the stables, you were still thinking about what Teddy said. Maybe you should talk to Joel? He didn't really have anyone in Jackson except Tommy, Ellie, and Teddy... And you. He still had a strained relationship with his brother, and the children were hardly suitable for serious conversations. So everything was on you. And your two relationship has improved. When you saw him, you didn't just think about how badly he hurt you, but how he changed for the better.

You stopped brushing Jupiter for a moment and looked back to see your son, who was throwing straw into an empty stall. In fact, he lost most of the straw along the way, but he looked so cute. He wanted to help you, like his dad.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice that you were approaching to place where another horse had bitten Jupiter. The wound still hurt him, and though he was a nice horse, he reacted to pain like any other animal. He whinnied loudly and jumped up sharply. You managed to dodge the kick, but you staggered and stumbled. You hit your head on the post that was between the horse's boxes. It got dark before your eyes and the last thing you remember was your son's frightened scream.

*

Teddy knew he had to call for help. He ran out of the stable and began to run as fast as his little legs would allow him. However, he passed several people and did not stop. Even when someone tried to stop him. In his mind, only one person could save you.

"Joel!" he shouted as he saw a familiar figure.

Joel was just walking with Ellie to the dining room when he heard his son scream. He immediately turned around and knelt down to catch the kid who practically ran into him. He immediately noticed that the little boy was terrified.

"Teddy, what happened?"

He gently grabbed his shoulders and started looking for any injuries, but the baby boy seemed to be fine. Teddy struggled to catch his breath, tears streaming down his face.

"Mama," he finally choked out.

Joel was immediately overwhelmed by a wave of terror.

"What about mom?" He asked.

The boy barely spoke. "Ho… Horse... Kick" he said between sobs.

Joel didn't need any more. He looked at Ellie, who seemed as scared as Teddy.

"Stay with him. I'm running to her."

The girl nodded and grabbed the boy's hand as Joel ran to the stables.

*

When you woke up you felt a terrible headache. Your ears were ringing and your vision was blurred, but only one thing mattered to you. Your son.

"Teddy," you croaked.

You got up with difficulty. You felt like a newborn foal that couldn't catch its balance. You slowly took a step by step, sticking to the wall. As you were about to leave, Joel suddenly ran up to you. He grabbed your sides and held you tight.

"Y/N, what happened?"

You heard the worry in his voice.

"Jupiter got angry... I jumped back, but I think I hit my head on something hard... Where's Teddy?"

Joel stroked your cheek, then ran his hand over the back of your head and was relieved to see that there was no blood on his fingers.

"Teddy is with Ellie. He's fine. He's just scared."

As soon as you heard that, you felt your strength leave you. You stayed on your feet only because fear for your son was your motivation. Joel immediately lifted you up and said, "Okay. You need medical attention."

"No" you moaned and rested your head against his chest. "Just not Anderson."

Joel sighed. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Take me home and call Wanda. She used to be a nurse."

"Okay," he whispered and brushed his lips against your forehead, and you just closed your eyes.

*

An hour later you were in bed and listening to Wanda's instructions. Teddy was cuddling up to your side. He had stopped crying but was still very scared. Ellie was sitting on the edge of the bed looking at you with worried eyes. Joel stood next to Wanda and carefully listened to her.

"It's definitely a concussion. She should not move. Let her sleep a lot, rest, and drink plenty of water. Someone should stay with her overnight. If she starts vomiting, she may choke."

"I'm not going to vomit," you muttered. You were slightly annoyed that the woman was talking like you weren't in the room.

Joel just gave you an indulgent look and replied, "I'll keep an eye on her.”

When Wanda left, he came closer to you and stroked his son's head.

"Hey, 'bear cub', mum will be fine. Why don't you and Ellie go to the meadow and collect flowers for mommy?"

Teddy looked at you with those puppy eyes he inherited from his father.

"Will this help you, mommy?"

You nodded your head and he immediately jumped off the bed and grabbed Ellie's hand pulling her towards the exit. Joel was still staring at you.

"What?" you asked.

He bit his lip and muttered, "I was worried about you, I'm still worried about you... I don't know what I would do if something happened to you..."

You were surprised by his confession. You might even hug him if it weren't for the constant dizziness.

"I'll be fine and you don't have to do all this for me."

Joel stepped closer, knelt by the bed, and grabbed your hand.

"I'll take care of you and Teddy. I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel better."

You smiled slightly and nodded your head.

In the evening you were really surprised how well Joel handled the baby. You thought your boy would be very cranky after a day like this... And he was, but Joel made it. After he put his son to bed, he came back to you and sat in the armchair to watch you all night.

It was weird and embarrassing for you at first. You thought you wouldn't be able to fall asleep next to him, but his presence began to soothe you and you fell asleep.

*

Joel stretched out in an armchair and tilted his head back. He yawned and closed his eyes. He thought that nothing would happen if he took a nap for a while. Your sleep seemed restful. Before he could fall asleep he heard the patter of small feet and after a while, he felt Teddy climb into his lap. He opened his eyes and smiled softly.

"Hi, 'bear cub'."

The baby boy glanced towards the bed: "Mummy still sleeping?"

Joel combed the boy's curls. "It's night. She should sleep. Just like you."

The little one shook his head and looked at him, and despite the dim light, Joel could see traces of tears on the baby's cheeks.

"You were crying, baby. What happened?"

He pulled the boy to his chest and hugged him tightly.

"Will mommy die?"

Joel replied immediately. "No, 'bear cub'. Of course not. She'll be fine. That's why I'm here to make sure everything is okay."

Teddy nodded and murmured, "Tell me a story."

Joel frowned. "We have to go get the book."

"No," the little one moaned. "Your story."

"Oh. All right." He thought for a moment. "I'll tell you about the Boston Angel."

"That angel was pretty?"

Joel smiled and nodded. "It was basically she, and she was the most beautiful angel I've ever seen. She was also sweet and kind. Even though Boston wasn't a pretty place, she was always able to find something beautiful and show it to the children. She bent down to tie a little girl's shoes and gave food to the homeless dog, and she always smiled."

"And did she bake cookies like Mommy?"

"Yes. She was the perfect Angel, but she met the bad man." Joel sighed heavily. He didn't know why he made up this story about you two. He felt the little boy tugging at his shirt.

"And what did the bad man do?"

"He broke the angel's wings and made the angel sad."

"But why did he do it?"

"Because he forgot how to love and only remembered that losing someone you love hurts a lot. So instead of loving an angel, he preferred to hurt her." He stroked Teddy's curls. "But the angel managed to escape Boston, and then her wings grew back and became even more beautiful and stronger. So strong that they could carry her wherever she wanted."

Teddy yawned and asked, "And the bad man? Has he changed?"

Joel didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected such a question. He swallowed and replied, "He's tried hard to change and... I hope one day he'll be good and the Angel will see it."

You felt tears running down your cheeks. You woke up as soon as you heard your son's voice, but you were still tired and did not react. You knew Joel would take care of the boy. So you heard the whole story about Angel and you couldn't believe it. Joel thought you were asleep, so he didn't say all that just to win your favor.

There was silence and you guessed that Teddy had fallen asleep. You went back to sleep too.

*

Joel slowly got to his feet, holding gently the sleeping boy, but something was bothering him. The baby's body was too warm. He kissed the boy's forehead and wondered if you had a thermometer somewhere in the house. He gently placed the baby on the bed and carefully covered him with a blanket. He didn't even get out of the room before he heard a plaintive whine, "Joo."

He quickly returned to the baby and began to calm him down. "Shhh, I'll be right back."

The little one stretched out his arms towards him with another pitiful moan and began to cry. Joel sighed and took the boy in his arms, wrapping him in a blanket.

"It's okay 'bear cub'. Do you know where mom keeps the thermometer and medicine?"

The little one sobbed and pressed his face against dads shoulder, muttering, "Not sick."

Joel rolled his eyes. He realized that he had to fend for himself. And so he held the baby with one hand and searched the kitchen cupboards with the other. He found a thermometer, bandages, a hot water bottle, and medicines that he knew were not for children. He took the boy back to the room and took his temperature. He had a fever.

"Teddy, does your tummy hurt?"

"No," the boy moaned.

"And here?" he asked and touched the boy's chest.

"Only the head."

Joel frowned. He stroked the boy's back and said, "Stay here a minute. I'll check on mommy."

"NO!"

Teddy started crying and Joel panicked. He didn't want you to wake up. He quickly lifted his son and began to gently rock him in his arms and place kisses on his wet, hot cheeks.

"Shhh, shhh, 'bear cub', it's okay. We'll go to mom together, but you have to promise me you'll be quiet. Okay?"

The little one whined and nodded his head. Joel breathed a sigh of relief, though he knew he had a rough night ahead of him.

He carefully looked at you and was relieved to see that you were still asleep. By this time, the boy had already fallen asleep and Joel was able to put him to bed.

And so for the next hour, Joel wandered between your room and Teddy's room. Unfortunately, the boy woke up again and started crying.

"I want water," he sobbed.

"I'll bring you."

"Do not go!"

Joel sighed heavily and took the boy in his arms. The boy immediately clung to his body tightly. "We will go together."

Unfortunately, the boy was very moody. When he saw the blue cup of water, he wailed loudly and Joel started to panic. He didn't know what had happened and tried to calm him down.

"It's okay... Shhh, tell me what happened? Teddy, baby, 'bear cub'..."

And as if he didn't have enough problems, You walked into the kitchen. You heard your son cry and your maternal instinct was stronger than your dizziness. You staggered into the doorway and grabbed the doorframe with difficulty.

"Y/N" Joel gasped and immediately started walking towards you.

He wrapped his free arm tightly around your waist while the other still held Teddy, who was crying in his ear. Joel led you to a chair and carefully sat you down. He started rocking your son and you looked at the blue mug on the table and said, "He doesn't like that color. You have to give him a red one."

Joel breathed a sigh of relief and quickly grabbed the red cup. Teddy finally calmed down, drank some water, and fell asleep in dad's arms, but his behavior made you uneasy. You knew that such trivial things as the color of the mug only made him cry when he was ill.

"Joel, does he have a fever?"

The man reluctantly nodded. He didn't want to worry you, but he couldn't lie to you.

"He has a fever and a headache, but otherwise he's fine. He doesn't cough, he doesn't have a runny nose. I've been looking for some medicine for him, but I haven't found anything."

You sighed heavily. "They're over. I was going to go to Anderson's, but... You know."

"I know. If he's not better by morning, I'll go with him to that asshole."

You looked at him scared. "No... I can't do it."

He came closer to you. "Hey, I said I'll go. You will stay. Everything will be fine. I'll take care of everything and now I'll put the little one to bed and come back for you."

"Put him in my bed. I want him close and try to put cold compresses on him to bring down the fever."

Joel nodded and did as you said. He put Teddy in your bed and then came back for you. He wrapped his arms around you to take all your weight. Once you were in bed, he returned to the kitchen and fetched a bowl of cold water and a small kitchen towel. You watched as he knelt by the bed and gently touched Teddy's forehead.

"You have to change the water in a while."

"I know," he said and smiled slightly at you. "Don't worry. I'll be here all the time."

You sighed and closed your eyes. You carefully cuddled up to your little one and hoped that the baby boy would recover by the morning.

Unfortunately, Teddy still had a fever in the morning, like you, he didn't like the idea of visiting Anderson. He cuddled up to you and looked at Joel like he were a traitor. The man reached out to him, but the toddler consistently ignored him.

"Come on, 'bear cub', everything will be fine."

Ellie, who had already come to you, also tried to help. "Teddy, the doctor will just examine you. I and Joel will be with you."

You knew you had to intervene. You gently pushed him away from you and kissed his nose. "Honey, you know Joel will always protect you. Go with them. Mommy needs to stay in bed."

The little boy finally nodded and let Joel take him in his arms.

"Bunny" he sadly whined.

Joel kissed him on the head. "We're going to get your bunny."

After they left, you looked at the teenage girl. "Ellie, make sure he doesn't do something stupid. And I'm not talking about Teddy.”

The girl shrugged. "Okay, but I'm not promising anything."

You fell back on the pillows and closed your eyes. Your head was still spinning and you knew you had to rely on Joel.

*

The atmosphere in Anderson's office was so thick that could have cut it with a knife. The two men stared at each other with pure hatred. Eventually, Ellie intervened. She grunted loudly and muttered, "I don't know about you, but I don't want to spend all day here."

The doctor snorted. "Put him on the table. I'll listen to his lungs."

Teddy immediately moaned plaintively as he was separated from his dad's body. Joel looked at him sympathetically. He kissed his forehead and whispered, "It will only take a moment."

Teddy hugged the stuffed bunny tightly to him. Anderson looked at the little boy irritably and hissed, "Should I examine him or the stuffed animal?"

Joel clenched his jaw. He felt his head start to ache. He'd had a really rough night and was losing his patience with this prick. He carefully took the toy out of his son's hands and tenderly said, "Ellie will take care of your bunny for a while."

Tears welled up in Teddy's eyes, but he nodded and watched as Ellie gently hugged his toy. Meanwhile, Anderson, without any warning, pulled the boy's T-shirt up and held the cold stethoscope to the child's body. Teddy squeaked and jumped. Only Joel's quick reaction saved him from falling off the table.

"What are you doing?" he growled.

Anderson shrugged. "It's not my fault he's as weak as his mother."

And that was enough. Joel handed the boy into Ellie's arms and gently pushed her towards the door. "Wait with him in the corridor."

Ellie nodded her head. She herself was furious with this asshole.

As she disappeared through the door, Anderson hissed, "What, are you going to break my nose again?"

Joel smiled in a way that made Anderson uneasy and he took a step back. Joel pulled a knife from his belt and lunged for the doctor. He pushed him into the chair and with one hand squeezed his throat so that the man couldn't scream.

"No, I'll do something much worse to you," he growled from the back of his throat. "Now listen to me carefully. You will treat my son as your most valuable patient."

Anderson's eyes widened in shock. "Teddy, this is your..."

Joel laughed. "Yeah, and you'd better think it over." He slid the knife into the doctor's crotch. "You have body parts that are not needed. Without them, you'll still be useful."

Anderson swallowed and nodded. "I will be gentle..." he squeaked.

Joel nodded. "All right."

He opened the door and took the boy in his arms. He smiled and kissed him on the head. "Come 'bear cub', Mr. Anderson will be very nice now and apologize to you for hurting you."

He looked at the doctor suggestively, and the man nodded. "I'm sorry Teddy." He started heating the stethoscope and said, "He can stay in your arms while I examine him."

The rest of the examination went smoothly and Anderson was kind and gentle. When he had finished, he said, "Everything seems fine. Did something stress him out?"

Joel frowned. He wasn't sure if Anderson didn't know about your accident or if he was pretending. "Yes. He had a lot of stress yesterday."

The doctor nodded. "This fever, it could be a stress reaction or a mild cold. I'll give you pills, for him. Give him half now, half tonight, and half tomorrow morning. The fever should go down."

*

When they got home, Joel told you how the doctor's visit went. Of course, he skipped the part about the knife threat but you guessed something had happened when your son said, "Mr. Anderson was a bit rude, but then Ellie and I left and when we came back, he was already nice."

You looked suggestively at Joel, and he tried to avoid your gaze at all costs. Then you shot a disappointed look at Ellie. "You were supposed to keep an eye on him."

Ellie shrugged. "This as..." Joel grunted significantly. "This fool, he deserved it."

You shook your head and hugged your son as he began to fall asleep. You didn't really care what Joel did. All that mattered was that he got Teddy's medicine.

*

After three days, you finally felt fine. You weren't dizzy anymore and you didn't lose your balance. Your son's fever has also stopped. It was evening when you got up and decided to eat something. There was an unusual silence in the house. It was still early, but Teddy was already asleep, tired from the impressions of the last few days. But where was Joel? He took care of you all the time and you were impressed with how well he handled everything.

You walked into the living room and saw him sleeping on your couch. He looked so peaceful and you didn't have the heart to be mad at him for falling asleep in your house. You guessed he was dead tired after two nights of watching over you and Teddy. Plus, you knew your sweet little son turned into a little monster when he was sick. One minute he wanted juice, the next he was spitting it out and crying that he didn't want juice. And maybe he got it from you. Well, maybe, just maybe, you had Joel bring you a glass of cold water, and after five minutes you decided it was too cold and asked him for hot tea. And he, without whining, without a grimace on his face, obediently went to the kitchen. So yes, he had a right to be tired. You grabbed a blanket from the armchair and gently covered him. Then you crouched down at his face and felt that old sentiment. Joel's hair always looked as soft and fluffy, as your son's. Made to be combed with your fingers. And before you could stop yourself, your fingers had already sunk into his gray curls.

Joel blinked his eyes and you quickly pulled your hand away. He looked at you and started to move, but he was very clumsy.

"Sorry... I'll be up in a minute," he mumbled.

You shook your head, put your hand on his shoulder, and said, "You deserve to rest, sleep."

You saw how tired he was and that he was still half asleep, so when he spoke you weren't sure if he was aware of it.

"I wish I could have looked after you while you were pregnant."

You sighed heavily and understood. That's why he was sad. He wasn't jealous at all that Maria was pregnant. He was sorry because it reminded him of what he had lost and made him feel guilty.

"You're taking care of us now. That's enough," you whispered.

You ran your hand through his hair again and he closed his eyes and purred like a cat. A slight smile appeared on his face, and you thought maybe your son was right. Your touch really made Joel stop being sad.

A/N: Okay, so yeah, I messed up the timelines about Maria's pregnancy. I just forgot to mention it before, and it suited me perfectly here. Doctor Google told me that children can have fevers because of stress.

Part V

Part VII

Taglist:   @ajeff855​​, @anislabonis-love​​,  @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi​​,    @i-workwithpens​​, @milla-frenchy​​,  @quality-lust    @liatome​​  @sarahhxx03 @creedslove​​ @jojo-munson​​ @pascalislove​​ @sofiparallel  @goldenhxurs​​     @elliaze​​      @aestheticangel612​​  @cheyxfu​​  @orcasoul​​  @misshoneypaper​​  @prestinalove​​​  @yourusername1 @stevengmybeloved​​

[captaincapsicle83]

The Little Pests

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary- Sam’s friend, an IT worker for Stark Industries turned new recruit, has a crush on an avenger. Being a good wingman (hehe, get it?) does everything he can to get the reader and Bucky closer, even enlisting the help of other avengers.

It’s almost obnoxious actually.

Pairings: Bucky x Reader (main romance, rest platonic), Sam Wilson x reader, Clint Barton x reader, avengers x reader

TW: Cursing, Sam and Clint being silly, “suicide” but like, it’s a bobs burgers reference (you’ll see)

A/N: I was bored, so I pushed aside EVERY OTHER WIP I should be working on (about eight separate ones), left all my drafts open, completely ignored my old, geriatric ideas, and wrote something off a whim

Behold, my capricious work of art

“And, this is our kitchen, that’s our toaster. The toaster is always broken don’t try to use it,” Sam says. His right arm is on your shoulder, the left gesturing around the room, showing you around he compound.

“Why doesn’t it-” You’re cut off by a man with light brown hair swatting the toaster with his fist.

“You whore! I want my poptart!” He grunts.

“He’s why,” Sam shakes his head, and rolls his eyes. Clint Barton; Hawkeye, Destroyer of toasters.

Clint whips around, disgust evident on his face, “Oh, no, no, no, Sir. Don’t act like I’m suddenly the only one to blame here. Take a look at Mr. Banner and his anger issues, the cyborg, or, better yet Sammy, look in the fucking mirror.”

You decided right then and there that you liked Clint. “Sammy” scowled at Barton, before motioning for you to sit at the table. He had already shown you around the rest of the compound, including your room, making the kitchen your last stop.

As Sam rummaged through the cupboards, Clint sat in a chair across from you, groaning and huffing like an old dad with aching joints (Clint couldn’t be more than in his thirties or fourties’).

“Are you here to fix the toaster?” He asks you, his voice sad and his eyes even sadder. He was like those little animals with big eyes of pleading in Disney films.

“No, I’m sorry. I could try,” you suggest the last part, and he perks up. He sits up straight in his chair, rather than sprawling, and shifted to drumming his hands on the table.

“Met anybody else yet?” He asks, Sam still looking for food with not much luck.

“Nada, just you and Sam,” You say, truthfully. You had honestly expected more traffic, but were just the same grateful to be mostly undisturbed.

“Oh, good, you’re lucky. After us, it all goes down hill,” He “tsk-tsk”’s. “Let’s give you a run down. There’s Bruce and Tony, they’re our brains. They don’t sleep. They’re, like, tier two after Sam and I. Also tier 2, we got Natasha and Wanda. They’re scary. I will not elaborate. Tier 3, Vision, Thor, Rhodes, Spider-Kid. Mostly uneventful around the compound, Visions here the most, other three not as much. Then there’s our senior citizens in the bottom tier. Steve and Bucket. If they were a spice, they’d be flour.”

The way Clint was talking, it felt like the scene in mean girls where Janice and Damien find Cary in the bathroom. You were giggly at his little hand motions and theatrical way of painting the scene.

“What makes you and Sam tier 1?” You ask, Sam coming over with two jars of peanut butter, spoons sticking out of them.

“Birds!” They both yell to each other. When you make a face at Sam’s offer of a jar of peanut butter, Clint takes it right away. You watch in wonder as the two bicker with each other, getting the feeling they were the only ones who found themselves to be “tier 1.”

***

You had been with the avengers for, say, about 7 months, finding it easy to make friends and have fun between missions and SHIELD duties.

“Well,” Clint was saying to you and Sam, the three of you sitting at the compounds dining table, coloring with crayons on printer paper. “I’m glad you two are having fun, because I am going to kill myself.”

He holds up a poorly manufactured picture of a duck. You all convulge into a set of late night giggles.

It was four am, and you had all just returned early from a mission. After a mission, especially one where you could sleep on the way back, you sometimes found it nice to unwind with your teammates.

As you all tried to compose yourselves, you didn’t even notice someone else enter the kitchen part of the kitchen, not until Sam called out to them that is.

“Hey, Buck, what’s up?”

“Hmm? Nothing. Coffee,” He looked startled, then straight back to basically being dead tired. The bags under his eyes looked like they just took a trip to Costco.

He looks reluctant, and like his mind has to do a lot of mental gymnastics to convince himself to do so, but ultimately he sits down at your table.

You’re drawing a picture of some birds (well, what was supposed to look like birds) in a little bird house. Your heart was beating about 10 decibels faster, and your hands became more unsteady.

Clint and Sam both privately took note of your change in demeanor. The way instead of using circle motions either your crayons, as you had been, you were pressing harder and going up and down. And how you simply just layer them on the table rather than back in the box. And the short sweet glances sent to one new person at the table….

***

Private messages between Sam Wilson and Clint Barton that you should never have seen, had you not been playing candy crush on Clint’s phone one Saturday morning. You’re a snooper, you snoop, it’s what you do.

Wednesday 5:36 am

Clint: Are you sleeping bbb

Sam: that best better not stand for what I think it does…

Clint: Y/n left me after you and Bucky did. Think the girl needed time to fantasize

Sam: YOU NOTICED TOO

Clint: I see everything, always

Sam: ominous

Sam: Clinton have you ever watched the bachorlette

Clint: I loveeee where this is going

Sam: I think she has a little crush

Sam: we should set them up

Clint: I can already see the kids

Clint: they’ll be names Sam and Clint of course

Clint: after us

Saturday, 9:29 am

Unread

Sam: did you destroy my fucking coin master village 17 times???

Sam: Barton, your ass is grass and I’m gonna mow it

***

Dead. You promised Clint and Sam they were dead.

At first, you thought it was just a joke. Until the advancements started.

It was Thursday, the team gathering for a dinner, as they did every once in awhile. As soon as you entered the room, you saw Clint and Sam basically playing musical chairs to keep an empty seat open next to Bucky Barnes.

“Are…Are you two okay?” Steve asked, genuine fear and concern on his face.

“Totally.”

“One-hundred percent.”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“You’re acting weird captain.”

Steve sits, slack jawed, at a loss for a response. As you walk towards the table, your shoulders are grabbed by Clint, who is saying in a sickeningly sweet and chipper voice, “Y/n! Goodness, great to see you! Sit here! There’s a spot next to Bucky! You know Bucky! You love Bucky!”

You were a *mess* the entire dinner, unable to completely focus on anything but breathing patterns.

As the evening was coming to a close and others were dismissing themselves, you made cold hard eye contact with Clint, seated directly across from you. His hands were folded on the table like an innocent school child.

“Barton,” you said, your voice stern. “Wanna play Chinese Checkers?”

He shakes his head violently, but says, “Sam does too.”

Sam gets up from the table, so fast, his chair knocks over and silverware clatters.

You quickly jump up, chasing him down the hall. Clint follows, brandishing a phone camera, a will, and a way.

The rest of the group was frozen now, looking in bewilderment at what was going on. Or rather, their lack of knowledge of what the hell was going on?

“Anybody have input?” Tony asks after a long silence. Everyone looks equally lost.

They all look when a thud sounds in the direction your trio went.

***

Bucky and Steve are walking track to their rooms, later that evening. Steve had mission reports to do, and Bucky had thoughts to process and a diary to write in.

“So, what do you think of the new girl?” Steve pokes the bear, hoping to get a rise out of his friend.

“Hmm, oh. I dunno. She’s nice, I guess,” Bucky shrugs, and Steve’s goofy little smile grows like the grinch’s heart.

“Really? Because you look liked you were having an awful lot of thoughts tonight at dinner. And, you know, you stare at her long enough every other day…”

“Do not.”

“Do so.”

Bucky stares at Steve, unknowing of what to do in this situation. He shrugs again.

“So what?”

“So? So you should, oh, I don’t know, have a real conversation with her instead of just breathing into each others general directions. It’s nauseating having to watch Sam and Clint push you guys into the same space.”

Tonight may have been the first time you noticed, but in truth that kind thing happened in many many scenarios. Even before Clint and Sam connected that dots that you liked him.

They wanted their ship to sail.

***

“You took a shower!?” Clint says to Bucky, in a low and shocked voice. He held an incredulous look on his face, one Bucky wanted to smack right off.

“Yeah, try it sometime,” Bucky quipped.

“Y/n’s in her room,” Clint took a sip of his coffee. She has loads of paperwork. Probably will be in there all day.”

Bucky’s mouth opens and then shuts, not wanting to know why Clint was helping him. In truth, he wasn’t. Clint was helping you.

Within minutes, Bucky was outside your door, giving himself the cutest, peppiest of peptalks. Albeit, in his head because he could not handle the embarrassment of the e door opening to you seeing him babbling like a madman.

So when you did open the door, he tried flashing a warm smile. At the sight of it, you thought you would simply just faint. Right there, thud on the floor.

While your brain was debating whether you would prefer internal or external bleeding of the skull (internal, you decided, wouldn’t mess up your hair) Bucky cleared his throat.

You looked into his blinding blue eyes, the way a deer looks into headlights (meaning any minute you would get hit by the car…)

“Hi,” Bucky breathes out.

“Hi,” you say, your voice cracking.

You wanted to choke yourself out.

“I have something to tell you,” he starts. “Or- or I wanna talk to you.”

“…oh…” FUCKING CHRIST! Oh?? That was the best you had???

“Look, y/n I’ve sorta…I like you, quite a lot. And I’ve been nervous to talk to you or tell you about it, because I really don’t like opening up about my feelings. But-”

You cut him off by pouring out, “Ilikeyoutoo!”

“You- oh…Well…this wasn’t as bad as I had thought then.”

You let out an awkward chuckle, “Yeah, guess not.”

He doesn’t say anything, the two of you staring into each others eyes. He starts to lean in, his perfect face getting closer to yours. The action feels magnetic as you lean closer.

You take in his features. His brow, his chiseled jawline. The symmetrical two sides to his face, like if you took a meat clever down the center, you’d have matching halves.

Just as you can feel his breathe on your lips, right before the two of you can make contact, you both jolt apart at the sound.

Clint falls from your ceiling, Sam landing on top of him. The metal grate that filtrated the air in your room was below them, broken ceiling tiles, pink insulation and regret strewn about your flooring.

“I’m gonna kill you.”

[pilotispunk]

Mr. Percocet (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary: You knew what this was when the mysterious man in the QZ was offering you drugs and sex.

Content: P in V sex, dirty talk, drug use, angst

A/N: I’m behind on so much writing but I’ve honestly had such a weird time mentally lately. This is an exercise because I miss it so much. I’ll be back at it soon. Love you guys.

You're only kind when you're all fucked up.

You're only mine 'til your high is gone but I wish you'd still love me when your drugs wear off in the morning.

You knew what this was.

You’d always known exactly. what. this. was.

From the first night you met eyes with him in the QZ. Someone had told you he “knew a guy who knew a guy” in Atlanta who grew pot and God knows you could use the escape from this hellhole that was the present.

You traded with him in a secluded corner, guarded by a shady FEDRA officer that was looking to score his own.

“I’ll see you around.” You said in vain.

You didn’t expect it to be so soon.

He came to your apartment when you had people over, looking to find someone who owed him ration cards. He took a small baggy of white round pills out. He offered one to you and nobody else.

Even in this world you knew better than to take random pills from strangers. But somehow everyone ended up leaving except for Joel. He leaned on your couch, slack jawed from his high. His limbs stretched out. You were going to give him some space and go to bed.

But then he touched your hand and he looked up at you with the most incredibly beautiful, but incredibly sad eyes you’d ever seen. And you knew from just that look he had the power of convincing you to do whatever he wanted.

It didn’t take long for your clothes to come off. You, fully naked on your couch with your back arched in pleasure as Joel explored your body. His hands grabbing your hips as he buried his face into your pussy. His strong nose rubbing your clit as he tongue fucked you. The combination driving you wild into a mind blowing orgasm.

It started off as once a week. Once a week he’d come over and fuck you as if his every need depended on it.

And then it became twice a week.

And then every night you’d find Joel Miller in your bed if he wasn’t out past FEDRA curfew.

Countless nights of his cock deep inside you, his hands buried in your hair or squeezing your body deep onto his dick. He was desperate for you to stay, you felt it in his touch. You couldn’t go anywhere if you tried.

Nobody could make you come like this. Nobody could consume you like this. When the two of you met eyes when you came together you felt as if you could really understand him.

And then the morning came.

He was never in bed when you woke up. He was either gone or in the kitchen, making coffee. He’d give you a cup and not look at you, as if he didn’t just make you cum all over his cock the night before and order you to take it all or he’d shove it back in with his fingers.

He wouldn’t tell you what he would do during the day. But Joel at night would tell you so much until he had to stop himself by kissing you.

You knew he couldn’t give you what you wanted. You could never ask him to. What was left to give?

But all you wanted was just one night where you didn’t turn to see an empty bag on the table after your back was towards him.

But late at night, the two of you intertwined in bed, those deep brown eyes tell a much sadder story.

[wolffoxnation2]

The Cupid scene but make it unrequited? Valgrace

Meant to finish this yesterday but couldn't get it done in time so heres it now. I'm not completly happy with it but im just glad its done.

-------

"You cannot lie to Cupid, Leo Valdez. If you let your shame and sadness rule you...well, your fate will be even sadder than mine," Favonius said, and Leo could have sworn there was pity in his eyes before the god disappeared in the wind.

Leo felt like he was back in Khione's ice palace. There was no way this wind god he just met knew his deepest, darkest, never-to-be-said-out-loud feelings. Right?.

Right?.

No, he must be talking about something else, and Leo is just being stupid and paranoid. He has to be.

Fortunately, or, more unfortunately, Leo didn't have the time to dwell on the ominous words of wind gods.

Because the ground was shaking. Why was the ground shaking?

So. A voice said.

Something zipped past his face and nicked his ear, throwing him off his feet and into Jason. Pain blossomed in his right ear, and he was pretty sure he was bleeding.

"You okay?" Jason asked, catching him in his strong arms.

Leo winced, holding a hand to his injured ear as he scrambled to his feet, trying not to think about the fact he just fell in Jason's arms. "Yeah, I'm good," he muttered.

You come to claim the sceptre. The voice said behind them, more like stating rather than asking.

Leo turned to where the voice was coming from, but no one was there.

"Cupid!" Jason called, standing at Leo's back with his sword drawn, "Where are you?".

The voice—Cupid laughed. It definitely did not sound like it belonged to a sweet baby angel's. It sounded rich and velvety but also threatening— like an ember in a fire before burning a house to the ground.

Where you least expect me. Cupid answered, As love usually is.

Leo's heart skipped a beat as something invisible slammed into Jason and hurled him across the street. He toppled down a set of concrete steps and sprawled on the floor of an excavated Roman basement.

I thought you'd know better, Jason. Cupid's voice circled overhead like a vulture. You've found true love after all. Or do you still doubt yourself?

"Jason!" Leo screamed, scrambling down the steps.

Jason took his hand and got to his feet. "I'm okay! Just sucker punched by an angel."

Oh, Did you expect me to play fair? Cupid laughed. Make no mistake; I am no angel, Jason Grace. I am Love. I am never fair. 

Oh boy, do I know that. Leo thought dryly before Jason swept him off his feet.

Literally not...not metaphorically.

Leo was swept into Jason's chest as Jason intercepted an arrow that would have gone straight into Leo's chest with his sword. The arrow exploded against the nearest wall, giving them a nice limestone shower.

Of course, Jason wasn't done giving Leo butterflies in his stomach and grabbed his hand, pulling him up the steps and behind another wall as another arrow rained down on them, shattering a column nearby into a thousand pieces.

"Is this guy Love or Death?" Jason growled, still holding Leo's hand.

Thanatos and I are often not so different. Cupid said from somewhere above, except Death is usually kinder.

Leo understood that more than he should: Death is just...well, death. The End. Just boom, you're dead! No more pain. No more problems. And if you're lucky, you get to chill in Elysium for eternity. 

While Love is...terrifying: It hurts, sometimes it doesn't last long, and some just don't get it (cough cough).

"We just want the sceptre!" Jason shouted, poking his head above the stone wall. "We're trying to stop Gaia! Are you on the gods' side or not?"

A second arrow shot at the air dangerously close to Jason's head, landing on the ground near Leo's feet and glowing white-hot. 

The arrow's temperature shot past 2,397 F (Hephaestus power.) before combusting into a geyser of flame. 

Love is on every side. Cupid said. "And no one's side. Don't ask what Love can do for you.

"Great," Jason said. "Now he's spouting greeting cards as well as trying to kill us."

"It's official. Queen was right; Too much Love kills you," Leo joked. If Love is gonna kill him in the end, then at least he wants to make Jason laugh before they both die.

Leo caught a ghost of a smile on Jason's lips before another arrow landed between them, ruining the moment.

You can't hide from Love. It will always find you no matter what. Cupid's voice said nearby.

Leo's hair sparked; the idea of burning the feathers off that smug, overgrown chicken's wings was getting more and more enticing. He knew Cupid was toying with them, enjoying their discomfort as he shot his stupid arrows.

Another arrow narrowly missed him, and something inside of him snapped.

He snatched the arrow up and threw it back where it came from. "Enough games, show yourself!"

Lucky for him, he had good aim. The arrow hit something and hung in the air for a moment before dissolving, leaving no trace: not even a spot of ichor that could help pinpoint his location.

"...Very good, Leo," Cupid said, though it was strained. There wasn't a wound, but it must have hurt. "At least you can sense my presence. Even getting a glance at true love is more than most Heroes manage. Maybe there's hope for you after all".

"So we get the sceptre?" Jason asked.

Cupid laughed. Leo was seriously getting sick of that laugh.

Oh no, there is still much you can do for me.

Jason started to speak, "But—"

An arrow shot through the air, zipping past Jason and hitting Leo square in the shoulder.

"Leo!"

There was a burst of pain in Leo's right shoulder, and suddenly, he was back at the Wilderness School again.

He had just met this cool guy, Jason. He was also a foster kid like him. Jason seemed too good for a school like this. He wouldn't tell him and Piper what he was here for, just that his case worker, Juna— Juno or something — sent him here.

Piper told him later on that she thought Jason was kinda hot.

Leo thought so too but he didn't tell her that. 

Another arrow hit him in the back this time. 

He wasn't sure when Piper and Jason started dating; it had only felt like a day had passed since they met.

He pretended it didn't hurt.

He didn't dare ruin their happiness.

So he just smiled and bared it every time they flirted with each other and told jokes every time they kissed.

"Stop it!" Leo shrieked, "None of it was real! Hera faked everything!"

Not everything, Cupid said softly, and a third arrow dug into his skin.

This time he was on their first quest in Boreas's ice palace.

Khione told them he couldn't come with them to see Boreas because of his fire.

He played it off that he wasn't hurt about it, even though it did. It wasn't the first or last time someone was scared of him.

Jason tried to defend him at first with his hand on Leo's shoulder, which only made him love him more.

And it sting more when Jason walked away holding hands with Piper, leaving him alone with Cal.

It was fine. None of it was real, not even his feelings were, and even if they were, it's not like he could act on them. He was just the funny guy, the mechanic, the seventh wheel. He wasn't supposed to fall for his male best friend, who was already dating his other best friend. He wasn't supposed to want something more than friendship with Jason.

He bit back the tears that were already threatening to fall. The grass at his feet was starting to smoke. "Show yourself!" He screamed.

It is a costly thing, Cupid said, looking on the true face of Love.

Another column shattered. Jason barely scrambled out of its way in time.

My wife Psyche learned that lesson, Cupid said, She was brought here aeons ago when this was the site of my palace. We only met in the dark. She was warned to never look upon me, and yet she could not stand the mystery. She feared I was a monster. One night, she lit a candle and beheld my face as I slept.

Jason said something, but Leo couldn't hear him over the sound of his own heart pounding in his chest. He could still somehow hear Cupid though. Of course, Love was the only thing he could hear other than his heart.

Cupid laughed from somewhere at the edge of the Amphitheater. I was too handsome, actually. A mortal can't look upon a god's true appearance without suffering grave consequences; just look at poor Semele. My mother, Aphrodite, cursed Psyche for her distrust. My poor lover was tormented, forced into exile and given impossible tasks to prove herself. She was even sent to the underworld on a quest to show her dedication. She earned her way back to me, but she suffered greatly.

Leo had no clue what he was talking about, but it sounded like he was a terrible husband.

Jason thrust his sword into the sky like he was a demigod He-man and was about to yell, 'By the power of Jupiter!' and beat up Cupid.

Unfortunately, he did not do that. 

Instead, the ground shook, and lightning blasted a crater where Cupid's voice was coming from.

There was silence, and for a moment Leo thought it was over and that they could get the sceptre and leave. And hopefully, never speak of this day again.

Leo should have known they were never that lucky.

An invisible force—Cupid, knocked Jason to the ground, sending his sword skittering across the road.

A good try, Cupid said, his voice already distant. But love isn't so easily pinned down.

A wall collapsed, Jason barely managed to roll out of the way.

That was enough for Leo.

"Hey!" Leo yelled, waving his arms around. "It's me you want! Not him!. Leave him alone!"

Poor Leo Valdez. The god's voice was patronizing and tinged with disappointment. Do you really know what You want, much less what I want? My beloved Psyche risked everything in the name of Love to win my trust back. And you — what have You risked in my name?

"I'm literally saving the world!" He yelled, clenching his fists, "I've faced way worse! You don't scare me!"

I scare you very, very much. Face me. Be honest.

Jason struggled to get up off the ground, and a piece of Leo's heart broke. This was all his fault. He knew exactly what Cupid wanted. But he didn't want to admit it just yet.

All around Leo, the ground started to heat up. Grass smoked, and stones steamed.

"Give us Diocletian's sceptre." He said, trying to put his best brave face on. "We don't have time for games."

Games? Leo's breath was knocked away as a hand slapped him sideways into a granite pedestal. Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work — a quest that never ends. It demands everything you have — especially honesty. Only then does it rewards.

Pain blosomed from Leo's...everywhere. His head spun from the pain, and the ground started to heat up more. Stones were starting to crack, and the grass was starting to spark. All it would take was one more push, and everything would burn.

Jason was up now and had retrieved his sword, "Leo!" he called, "What does this guy want from you?".

Leo's lip trembled. Everything was going so wrong. He didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to tell Jason. "I don't know!" He yelled back, and an arrow embedded itself in the pedestal, inches away from Leo's face.

Tell him, Leo Valdez, Cupid ordered. His voice was starting to get less patient now. Tell him you're a coward, that you're afraid of yourself and your feelings. Tell him why you hide among your machines like your father. Tell him the real reason you run and why you're always alone.

Leo gritted his teeth, his entire body trembling with pain and frustration. Cupid's words cut through him like a knife, exposing the raw truth that he had been desperately trying to bury.

The grass started to burn and the stone's cracks got bigger.

"I... I can't," Leo stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't tell him."

Cupid's laughter echoed around them, mocking and cruel. "You see, Jason Grace? Your friend is afraid. Afraid of his own feelings, afraid of the truth. He hides behind his jokes and his bravado, but deep down, he knows."

Leo let loose a guttural scream, and like a volcano erupting; everything exploded at once.

Magma burst from the rocks, splitting them wide open. The grass combusted into green flames — Greek fire —he really is going to burn everything down.

"H—haaa"

Leo laughed through the tears. It was really all he could do and all he really ever did. It was funny really; he'd worked so hard to shove everything down, yet it was all destroyed in a fiery explosion in less than an hour.

A nearby tree collapsed dangerously close to Jason as the fire consumed it. "Leo! What is he talking about?" He almost couldn't hear his voice over the fire.

Will you hide forever, Leo Valdez? Cupid taunted, who unfortunately can still be heard because not even fire can shut him up. Will you let fear rule your heart, or will you finally have the courage to face the truth?

He didn't want to face the truth. He was too scared of what would happen. What might Jason say. How he'd react.

He just wanted to keep things the same.

Even if it kills him.?

Leo sobbed, and the flames burned brighter. If this was love then he didn't want it. Or maybe if love was this painful then he deserved it. Another arrow pierced his back—or maybe that was the feeling of his heart breaking more—and more images flashed through his mind.

He was back on that mountain in Colorado. Jason had his arms around Piper, his face scrunched up in concern. Leo pretended it didn't bother him. It was cold, and Piper ended up getting hyperthermia. He had tried to ignore the aching in his chest. He didn't want to think about how much he wanted to be in her place.

After their quest, they left him alone while he worked on the Argo II. He named it after the ship the first Jason sailed on.

It was all for Jason.

He was back on the Argo right after he had fired on New Rome—Jason's home. Everyone was angry with him, and Jason was in the infirmary; some asshole threw a brick at his head. 

He didn't go down to him. He couldn't face Jason.

It was all his fault.

Jason got hurt because of him.

And he didn't even have the guts to face him.

There were more scenes like this flooding his senses. At some point, his brain switched off, and he was just drowning in agony. He couldn't move or speak.

He was weak.

Meanwhile, the flames grew to an inferno of green and reds, drowning out everything. Leo's hair was a white flame. An outline of wings caught fire for a moment before being put out again.

"Interesting!" Cupid's voice said from somewhere above. Do you have strength after all?

"I...I can't," Leo said, though it sounded more like a whimper. He was on his knees now. 

Heh, too weak to admit your feelings and too weak to stand, his mind mocked in Cupid's voice.

Still hiding, Cupid said above, a flame burned an outline of a wing tip before going out again. You do not have the strength.

Leo sobbed. He really was weak. He was going to burn everything down just because he didn't want to admit his feelings.

"Leo" Jason yelled from somewhere. "It's okay! I get it!"

Leo stared at the burning grass below him. It was too hot for tears to fall. Only steam came from his eyes. 

"No, you don't," He said defeatedly. Jason didn't understand. He couldn't understand. If he understood, then he wouldn't be so nice to Leo. "There's no way you understand. If you did you'd hate me".

And so you run away again, Cupid chided, From yourself, from your feelings, and from your friends.

The fire had engulfed Cupid's wings now. But the god laughed cruelly and blew it away.

"Leave him alone Cupid," Jason croaked somewhere. "This isn't your..."

Oh gods, he was hurting Jason again. The smoke is choking him.

Cupid's laugh echoed from above the flames. But oh, it is exactly my business, Jason Grace. Love is me. I am love.

"Leo!" Jason choked out through the smoke.

Oh, you're killing him, you're killing him. Leo's brain screamed. You're a monster, you're such a fucking monster, and you're weak.

"Look, I don't care if you're in love with Piper!" 

He doesn't understand. He doesn't. He doesn't. Leo's brain screamed over and over again.

Cupid laughed again, and Leo's will broke.

"I—I'm not in love with Piper," Leo said, and everything seemed to go silent.

The fire subsided and all of Leo's fight and denial went out at once.

Cupid circled Leo like a shark. His form was visible now—long blond hair, muscular in a simple white frock and jeans, snowy white wings that were singed at the tips. The bow and quiver slung over his shoulder were weapons of war—not toys. His eyes were as red as blood, as if every heart in the world was broken and squeezed dry into one poisonous mixture.

Leo vaguely recalled that some think that Eros was a son of Ares and Aphrodite. And he could see why:

Love and War were the most painful things in the world.

He gestured for Leo to continue.

"I have a crush on you, Jason." Leo said.

The fire died down so Leo could see Jason's face.

And he swore he saw pity in his eyes.

The End

[aveegrex]

ONE PIECE DATING HEADCANNONS

Monster trio + Smoker and Crocodile gn!reader, SFW cw: mentions of murder, mentions of blood (all metaphoric), PDA, jealousy

Sanji Vinsmoke:

At first he’s really incredulous, still shocked his feelings are mutual. So instead of his usual over the top antics, you get a smitten clumsy boyfriend who stumbles upon everything he does and says. 

“Bonjour appétit", “In this dress you look like a swamp, eh-... A SWAN! I MEANT A SWAN!!” - yeah, he’s a mess at first

In fact, he’s so anxious and nervous that the Strawhats suspect someone might have kidnapped him and they are sharing the deck with an imposter, because for a few weeks he undercooks, oversalts and burns every meal. You decide to step up and put an end to that chaos, sitting him down for a long reassuring talk. 

When he gets used to his new status as a taken man, it’s like watching a flower bloom: he’s confident, attentive, his strength grown tenfold. 

Expect a lot of touching. Kisses, hugs, cuddles: his head on your knees when you chat with Nami on the deck, his fingers interlaced with yours as you indulge in reading, his legs intertwined with yours as you both doze off at night. This boy has been touch starved for years and you’re the one to make up for all that hunger with. 

You’ll definitely be waking up to fresh flowers every morning, even in case the ship has been cruising for days without a speck of land in sight. Don’t ask him how he does that. There are secrets only to be shared between a gentleman and his fridge. 

He’ll be super inquisitive about EVERY detail of your daily routine. This precious baby needs to know everything, from the ways you do your hair to your toothpaste preferences and favorite islands in all the seas.

If you have dietary restrictions for whatever reason, throw those at him without hesitation. It’s no disadvantage, but a challenge to him. Lactose intolerance? Hell yeah, prepare your nipples, oats and almonds. Vegetarian? Eat up your steaming veggie stew. No garlic and onions? Fuck those, vampires are hot! 

Never misses a single important date or event. I personally hc him as someone who has a tiny notebook in his pocket at all times, so everything that matters is written down, ingrained in both his brain and paper. 

Zoro is grateful for your existence since now his quarrels with the cook die down way faster and cost him way less bruises and nerves than before. And he gets to nap longer. 

Which leads to an unexpected outcome: on yours and Sanji’s dates and outings you never get interrupted because the mosshead is secretly guarding your calamity from afar, keeping all possible troubles at bay. 

On a sadder note: I believe Sanji is a rather self-conscious guy around those he loves and values the most. So it’s hard for him to stand his ground and state his boundaries, since he’s scared of being “too much trouble for you” or “scaring you away”. You gotta be patient and weave the truth out of him. It does get better the longer you are together, but at first you should be on guard for the little tell-tales of his discomfort. 

His jealousy is not obvious, but it is there. It stems from the same fear of losing you, so you gotta be the one to initiate the talk in this regard too. Since his adoration and love are pure, and his respect to you is immense, it doesn’t take much explanation convincing that when you’re making Zoro laugh or talking to some other man you still love him and him only. 

His flirtiness towards other people dies down a lot when you start dating. He doesn’t turn into a stone-cold robot, of course, still treating women gallantly, but his heart eyes are for you only now. 

Most thoughtful gifts ever. He has a special compartment in his brain dedicated to information about you, and his imagination never runs empty on how to make you smile and kiss him in excitement. 

Overall score: absolute husband material. Even though he does have flaws, he’s open to growth and listens carefully when you express your discontent with something. 

Please treat this baby with patience and care, and don’t abuse his love. He deserves the world. 

Roronoa Zoro: 

It might seem like Mr Bushido doesn’t undergo any behavioral changes when you two start dating. It might seem so. He does though. 

He’s now more careful with his words, which only you, Nami and Usopp pick up on at first. He’s well aware he can be brash and rough around the edges, so even though he’s simply trying his best to be better for you, he perceives being more attentive to other people’s feelings as a way to train this new trait. Wrong route - correct destination. Whatever works, works. 

Since you prefer to take your naps on the actual bed and not just shove your body in the corner on the deck, he now does the same thing. Zoro is happy since he gets to sleep with you. You’re happy since he’s treating his body with more care. Chopper is happy since Zoro doesn’t get colds and sore back anymore. Win-win-win situation. 

Trains even more. He views himself as your main protector, and although he knows you can stand your ground just fine, he would never forgive himself if something happened to you. 

Might forget important dates and details, but does make up for that. It’s not for the lack of attention, but more so of his usual unawareness of temporal and geographical context.  

Absolute shit at giving gifts though. He’s not very materialistic, opting for asceticism in his belongings, and he subconsciously transfers the same thought process onto other people. If you need something, it’s better for you to get the thing yourself. If it’s not a necessity, why even buy it? 

Eventually (with Nami’s help, Sanji’s patience ran thin here) gets the concept of cute little nothings like flowers, candy and trinkets, but still opts for things of use. Lost a hairband - he’ll buy you the prettiest one. Need a clothing article - let’s go shopping. Your weapon broke down? He’s already at the blacksmith’s with the remains. 

He’s not a very touchy person, and absolutely not into PDA. All the signs of affection are happening in private, please and thank you. 

Being a pirate with a huge bounty over his head, he’s careful not to show his infatuation with you, since he doesn’t want his enemies to use you as a way to get to him. 

But being a loner, he surprises you with propositions to do things together all the time. Training, eating, hunting, picking up food and utilities for the trip - you name it. You’re doing it together. 

Even the crew doesn’t know you’re dating for the first couple of months. Luffy was just looking for Zoro once and barged in on two of you making out, quick to announce his discovery in his booming voice. Saving Luffy’s ass from drowning became Usopp’s responsibility for the next few weeks, your boyfriend just watching the captain sink with bloody revenge in his eyes. 

His jealousy is more of a “protect the territory” type. He sees outsiders as danger, and is quick to assume the worst intentions. Deep-rooted issue which he dutifully works on with your help. 

He spent most of his life alone, relying on no one and needing no one. Joining a crew was a huge step for him, and opening the deepest bottoms of his heart and soul to you is even bigger. He’ll be cautious, awkward at times, rough around the edges, but if he ever hurts you he’ll make it his life mission to make up for that and to never repeat the same mistake again. 

In the world where he’s not bound to any land, floating in chase of his dream around, you’re his little anchor that reminds him how precious here and now can be. 

Captain Smoker:

Absolutely horrified at the thought of doing something wrong and letting you get too close at first. 

Does eventually find great comfort in you, making it his priority to be as open about his feelings and hesitations as possible. 

Not very much into PDA, he has a reputation to uphold and begs you to understand that the “White chase Smoker” should stay a bloodhound with a foaming mouth to every single pirate out there. Bloodhounds don’t hold hands with beautiful angels like you. Please. PLEASE. 

Allows the crew to see how he kisses you hello and goodbye. Those fuckers should treat you like royalty and serve you tea the second you’re around. If anyone dares to look at you the wrong way, he’ll growl and bark till they piss their pants. 

Luffy knows about you. 

When in private, melts under your touch and looks at you with bloodpuppy eyes. He worships the ground you walk on, kisses your hands when you’re in his lap, nuzzles his face into your neck. The setting of his job is rough and brutal, cold and has no space for intimacy and love. Smoker gets every ounce of those he can from you. 

Let him vent to you about the higher-ups. There might be a lot of swearing, but after he’s done for the day, he’ll hug you tight and mumble sweet nothings into your chest. 

Might easily miss the important dates due to his line of work. Buys you a small snailphone and calls you the second he’s free to talk if he’s away on the job. If someone dares to disturb the call, they risk getting murdered, dried into thin paper and used as a filler for his cigars. 

The one to call you his husband or his wife the week after you start dating. 

Tashigi is now getting her degree as a marriage counselor by the way. Make sure to remind him to cut her a little slack from time to time, the poor girl was not expecting this when submitting her job application. 

He struggles with loving words or elaborate gifts and surprises, but when those happen, they stun you for life. 

To your surprise, not a jealous type. He’s confident in his partner and knows that you both value trust and loyalty in a relationship. Even if someone advances you romantically, Smoker won’t interfere, just watching from afar amused as you kindly reject. 

Sir Crocodile:

Big thick daddy 3000 gives no shit about someone finding out he has a significant other. He’s a fucking warlord, wealthy and powerful man, and it’s his whole damn right to parade you and show you off to everyone around. You’re his prized possession, his love, his one and only. 

In fact, he shows you off so openly many people find it straight up obscene and indecent. He has you on his lap in all his meetings, his huge hand resting on your hip or even on your ass. When he wants to highlight how little he thinks of his collocutors, he’ll purposefully feed you berries and fruit from his hand, not even looking at the person speaking, but listening intently. He does it so openly that it’s them who get flustered and embarrassed. 

Huge sugar daddy energy. He earned his wealth, he can allow himself to splurge on whatever it is you want. Clothes? He’ll have a separate warehouse built for your wardrobe. Jewelry? Baroque works get overtime to find the rarest pieces. You want to visit some new restaurant? It’s closed for other customers for the whole evening. And don’t even think of getting out of bed with him if you want to eat something, just snap your fingers and everything will be brought to you on a silver platter. 

If he misses an important date, no he doesn’t. He’ll only care about remembering your birthday though, other things like anniversaries and whatnot being moved around to fit his schedule. Sorry not sorry. 

Takes you with him on every trip. His big ass ship is a fortress, and is fit to accommodate any of your needs and desires. 

Does like venting into your neck about his day, please listen to him mumble and whine, it’s a rare sight. 

Is very rare to get vulnerable with you, but when he does you know it’s his earnest feelings and emotions being shown to you. Make sure to cup his face and look him in the eyes when he’s in that state, and he’ll go above and beyond to never lose you. 

The realization that he loves you dawns on him when he takes off his hook before joining you in bed. He never cared for such consideration before, but with you he just does it on autopilot. He then later extends the “no weapon” rule to any situations where he’s in your presence. 

It’s hard to make him jealous though. Like really really hard. What did you think, he’s a mature weathered man with a bottomless bank account, confident in himself and in your infatuation with him. So no, whatever advances someone might try on you won’t ever make his heart sting. 

Overall, being in a relationship with Sir Crocodile gives you a very clear sense of stability and security. He’s a lifetime partner. You two are mates for life. 

Monkey D. Luffy: 

He hasn’t changed a bit since you started dating. Well, of course some habits come and go, some new rules and skills are learnt, but overall Luffy stays the same old Luffy. 

He just announced it to the Strawhats one morning, casually chewing on Sanji’s artwork. “We’re together now. We love each other. Is Zoro still asleep?”. And that was it. You do in fact feel like you’ve always dated, because it feels only natural to have him wrapped around you at night, to have him holding your hand, to have him kissing you in the night. 

Spends a little more time with you, but since he always liked your company, it doesn’t feel like a change. Although again, if he’s off to do something stupid, he forgets about everyone, including you. That is something to work on, and he’s trying. 

Absolutely no jealousy. Like none, what’s that? When you’re chatting away with someone and Nami asks if he’s jealous, Luffy’s like “Huh? Why? We’re together, remember? ”. 

Doesn’t understand what PDA is because if he feels like kissing you, he’ll do that right away. What do you mean there are people around? They probably kiss too from time to time. 

Might easily say something stupid and hurt you. Needs a lot of explanation on why that was hurtful, but even if he fails to get it, he knows that “if it hurts it’s no go”. So just tell him it was not a nice thing to say and he won’t do that again. Baby’s clueless to social subtones. 

Also might easily forget the important date. Again, he’s really not aware of his surroundings, and that includes date, time, location. The guy fell asleep when chasing Crocodile and has thrown Zoro off the ship accidentally more times than anyone can count. He just is not aware. So in this regard, please tell him right in the morning that it’s actually your birthday or anniversary, and he’ll bring you the most unexpected and heartfelt present ever. 

Have beef jerky on you at all times and you’ll be best at finding him when he’s lost. 

Relationship with Luffy is a journey, an adventure, You’re in for a good time and you live today. Tomorrows mostly don’t exist. Carpe diem. 

He loves you with all his heart and soul. If something happens to you, the world is over. Everyone’s fucked. Villain Luffy arc ensues. 

MDNI, reblogs and comments are welcome, wish everyone finds their love

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