#i will be doing scraps next on request of a anon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prdx-invdr · 1 year ago

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୨୧⸝⸝﹕it’s salty in the middle of those sweet moments.

SUMMARY! for reasons unknown to him, you seem to absolutely hate lee anton. on several occasions, he’s tried to hate you right back, but found that it can be difficult to dislike someone when you’re completely infatuated with them.

PAIRING! lee anton x fem!reader

GENRE! college!au, slice of life, swim team!au idk what to call it actually but anton and reader are both captains, fluff, angst (kinda), (one-sided) enemies to lovers WC 6.6k

WARNING! swearing, reader is mean to anton for a while, miscommunication, i have no knowledge of swimming as a sport and had to do a lot of research for this one so sorry if this contains some inaccuracies, not proofread

NOTE! when anon requested this i jumped out of my seat bc rivals to lovers with anton was my very first wip on this acc but i scrapped it and this gave me an excuse to write abt it again

anton thinks the world of you while you think nothing of him. he’s unsure of how someone he thinks of so highly could hate him so much, and he’s even more unsure of how he could still be so enamored by you despite knowing that you feel the exact opposite way about him.

he gave up on trying to understand the root of your hatred towards him long ago.

at first, he assumed that you were just jealous of the fact that the boy’s swim team had a bigger budget than the girl’s. this wasn’t anton’s fault by any means, but he thought that you might’ve been taking your anger out on him due to his position as team captain. the school administration seemed to simply favor the boy’s swim team over yours, and even anton knew that it wasn’t fair. the favoritism meant that anton’s team received better funding, which inevitably meant better… everything.

anton vividly remembers the glare that you’re always giving him only growing in intensity the day he and his team stepped into the pool area wearing their brand new goggles and swim trunks. he recalls the way the other girls on your team looked down at their own worn out swimsuits upon seeing anton’s team’s new attire, and he felt terrible. if it were up to him, he would’ve entered the room wearing the same faded blue swim jammers he and his teammates were forced to wear at the start of the semester if it meant you’d stop looking at him with such disdain in your eyes.

if this had been the reason behind your distaste for the boy, he would’ve understood. but the hatred you held for him extended beyond swimming, too.

“your hair looks stupid like that,” he hears you mutter from behind him. he turns around, an indifferent expression adorning his features to mask his nervousness.

the fact that you still manage to get the boy’s heart racing and his palms sweating despite your cruel words is baffling to him.

anton’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, wanting to retaliate but not having the slightest idea what to say. “my hair looks like this everyday,” is all he can pathetically exhale.

you’re still staring at him with a furrowed brow and he stares back at you, perplexed. he wonders if you have anything else to say to him or if you were insulting his hair for the pure fun of it. he thinks he’d be fine with either, because at least you’re talking to him.

he feels like slapping himself in the forehead at his own lovesickness.

after a few moments of silence, you scoff, signaling with your hand that you want him to move out of your way.

wordlessly, anton obliges, stepping aside and watching as you continue on your way to whatever class you have next. he notices merely seconds afterwards that the hallway he’s currently standing in isn’t narrow in the slightest, meaning you could’ve easily gone around him and still insisted on making him move. he wishes he could dislike you— he really does.

anton turns around to find sohee and seunghan now leaning against the wall, having observed the entire interaction between you and their love-struck friend. sohee looks at him pitifully while seunghan claps, slowly and sarcastically.

“don’t,” is all anton says to them, hanging his head. he knows that they’d like to drill another lesson into his mind about how he needs to stop letting you push him around like that, and he’s not in the mood for it.

“anton, my man,” seunghan sighs, putting an arm around his shoulders. “i get that you like her, i really do, and that she’s pretty and all,” he feels anton’s shoulders momentarily tense at his words, “but i don’t think she’s into you. like, at all.”

anton shrugs the older boy’s arm off, shaking his head. “i don’t like her,” he lies through gritted teeth. sohee and seunghan share an unamused look.

in actuality, the two of them were there to witness anton fall for you firsthand. when their younger friend first saw you and two of your friends walking through the quad area of campus, they watched the way his eyes widened and the way the oxygen left his lungs. they recall thinking that anton’s heart would burst out of his chest and fall right onto the grass below the three of them. his friends were in disbelief that anton was currently standing in front of them and denying his feelings for you when they quite literally saw him develop said feelings in real time.

when anton found out that you were captain of the girl’s swim team, it only solidified the way he felt about you. being captain of the boy’s swim team himself, he thought it was the perfect setup. he was too shy to nonchalantly walk up to you and initiate conversation, but he had the notion that swimming would make good enough of an excuse.

his hopes of becoming acquainted with you through your shared interest in the sport were crushed almost immediately. when he first tried to strike up a conversation with you, you sent him a scowl that intimidated him into walking the other way. on a separate occasion, he attempted to talk to you again, only for you to turn your head and pretend that you hadn’t heard him. he hasn’t tried to initiate anything ever since, the only time the two of you ever interact being whenever you glare at him or make a remark about him in passing.

he never found out what your problem was when it came to him, and he doesn’t think he ever will.

anton sees sohee and seunghan’s solemn faces and scoffs. “i’m serious, guys!” he complains, “you’ve seen the way she acts towards me. why would i like somebody like that? that’s like setting myself up for failure.” his chest tightens as the words leave his mouth. he only said that so his friends would drop the subject, but he knows that there’s truth behind his statement. the two boys only exhale disappointedly.

sohee purses his lips. “if she didn’t absolutely hate you for no reason, you guys would probably look good together,” he comments. seunghan nods, “too bad she’s got a stick up her ass.”

for whatever reason, anton wants to defend you and tell his friend that there is no stick up your ass— you’re only hostile when it comes to him. he realizes how pitiful that sentence would sound to sohee and seunghan and decides against saying it out loud.

“stop being hung up on that girl, anton,” sohee chimes, putting a hand on his friend’s arm, “there’s plenty of fish in the sea. you would know all about that, right? since you’re a swimmer and all.”

seunghan hits sohee in the arm jokingly. “he’s on the swim team, not a fucking merman.”

“he’s so cute, are you kidding me?” you hear rei practically squeal as you step into the locker room. she and jiwon are both already wearing their swimsuits, and the latter looks up upon hearing you enter the room.

“who are we talking about?” you smile, setting down your backpack. it’s late in the afternoon and you’re relieved to be done with your classes for the day, finally able to do what you love most.

“um,” jiwon begins, “no one in particular. right, rei?” your friend sounds a bit on edge as she turns to the girl sitting on the bench beside her, who shrugs. “we’re talking about anton,” she replies, earning a slap on the arm from jiwon. “ow! what the hell?”

jiwon watches as you halt your process of taking off your shirt, about to change into your swimsuit. she knew that your mood would turn sour at the mention of the boy; it’s a known fact amongst the members of your team that you hate lee anton.

“you think anton is cute?” you turn to rei, frowning. the girl lets out a huff of air, her bangs moving in the process. “i don’t see how you don’t,” she mutters, “and i don’t get why you hate his guts either. he’s super nice.”

you continue changing, the two girls looking away from you as you do so out of respect. “you wouldn’t understand,” is all you say in response. jiwon bites her lip, feeling bad for the boy. she’s seen it all— the fleeting, longing glances anton sends your way, and the scornful looks you send him in return. she doesn’t comment on it, not wanting to upset you, but a minuscule, intrusive part of her desperately wants to know what’s going on between you and the captain of the boy’s team.

rei, however, seems to know no boundaries. “would you be mad if i dated him, then?” she chortles, giddily kicking her legs. not facing you, she doesn’t see the way you grow tense at her question. you open your mouth to respond when a knock at the locker room door startles the three of you.

the door opens a fraction and you turn to see yujin pop her head inside. “are you guys almost ready?” she asks, scanning the room before her eyes land on you. “oh, hey, captain,” she smiles, eyes forming crescents. you wave, and the older girl continues. “coach wanted me to remind you guys that we have a joint training session today,” she clenches her teeth for a second, eyes moving to jiwon and rei who are wearing matching nervous expressions at the reminder. “you know, with the boys team,” yujin finishes, not daring to look you in the eye in fear of how you might react.

as captain of the team, you were curious as to why your coach would want to remind you of that, seeing as you were often the first person to obtain this information. upon deeper thought, you realize it was probably because even your coach knew about your hatred towards anton and wanted you to stay focused this time around rather than glaring at him every few minutes. you almost let out a laugh at the thought.

“you hear that, captain?” rei teases, “prepare yourself! don’t let anton distract you this time.”

you throw a towel in her direction, earning a grunt from her. “i should be telling you that,” you scold, “seeing as you’re obsessed with him all of a sudden.”

rei laughs, and you’re unsure of how to feel when you come to the realization that she didn’t disagree with your statement.

once you finally leave the locker room, you come face to face with your sworn enemy himself.

anton doesn’t look in your direction for as long as he normally does, memories of your interaction from earlier in the day flooding his mind. no matter how small of a gesture it is, your teammates take notice of it. “he’s not staring at you today,” gaeul whispers, shocked.

you only shake your head. “like i care,” you spit, crossing your arms, “i prefer it that way, actually. he should focus on his own team.”

wonyoung puts her hands on your shoulders from behind, lightly shaking you. “loosen up, okay?” she advises, her own eyes drifting over to anton’s team. as if on cue, anton looks over at you for a moment, watching as you joke around with your teammate. he wishes that you were even half as nice to him as you are to your team, wondering what it would be like to laugh with you the same way wonyoung is right now.

noticing anton’s preoccupied state, one of his teammates calls out to him. “captain!” anton turns his head away from you, looking his teammate in the eye. “yeah, taesan? you need something?” he inquires, getting back into his leader headspace. taesan looks over anton’s shoulder at your team, making the inference that he had been distracted by you. like always, taesan thinks to himself.

“do some stretches with me, yeah?” he says, wanting anton to fully dedicate himself to practicing instead of letting you pose as an obstacle.

anton is a good team captain— any of his teammates can attest. but it feels like anytime you’re in his presence, he’s only able to give 80% as opposed to his usual hundred, the other 20% being spent completely fixated on you.

he walks over to his dark haired teammate with a nod, agreeing to help him warm up. he thinks it serves as a more productive way to pass time than staring at you like a lovesick idiot.

“i was thinking,” taesan starts, copying the way anton does shoulder stretches to loosen his joints, “well, me and leehan were talking about it, actually. we should do a bonfire later, at the beach,” he tells the older boy.

anton licks his lips, nodding absentmindedly. “just you and leehan?” he asks, looking around the room for the boy in question. he sees leehan standing in the corner looking disinterested and waves him over. with an inaudible sigh, leehan reluctantly joins the two boys who are now doing tricep stretches. taesan shakes his head in response to the question anton had posed, “no, i meant, like, the whole team,” he corrects. “tell him, leehan,” taesan nudges his teammate.

“i hate stretching,” leehan murmurs, gaze aimed towards the white tiles beneath him. “about the bonfire, dumbass,” taesan deadpans. leehan perks up at the mention of something that he actually cares about. “oh, yeah! we’re gonna invite the whole team,” he grins, “it’ll be a blast, anton. you’ve gotta go.”

anton thinks it over, biting the inside of his cheek. “it’s already kind of late though, no?” he points out, causing the two boys on either side of him to groan. “bonfires are literally supposed to happen at night,” taesan comments at the same time leehan says, “don’t be such a buzzkill.”

“is the girls team invited?” anton can’t stop himself from asking, earning more groans from the two boys. “i don’t want to go through the trouble of inviting them,” leehan complains. “yeah,” his friend nods, “plus, he’s only asking because he wants their captain to be there.”

taesan’s comment makes anton come to a halt, and he’s now the only one out of the three of them no longer stretching. “that’s not true,” he defends himself, “i just feel kind of bad. i mean, we already have a bigger budget than them, and stuff.”

“keep telling yourself that, champ,” leehan grumbles. “we see right through you.” anton steps forward, looking at both of them simultaneously. “guys, seriously,” he says lowly, “i feel bad.”

taesan lets out a laugh, “right, you feel bad that you won’t be able to make heart eyes at y/n tonight.”

anton rubs his palm across his face, frustrated. “here’s an offer for you. you either invite the girls team, or…” he pauses, attempting to appear intimidating, “you’re not allowed to have the bonfire at all.”

the two boys scoff in unison. “you can’t just do that,” taesan snorts, “you’re our captain, not our mom.” anton scratches his head at that, disorientated. “look, i— okay,” he tries again, “i don’t know. i’ll buy you guys food, or something.”

it’s now taesan and leehan’s turn freeze in their places. “why didn’t you start with that?”

practice ends faster than you wish it had and you hoist your bag over your shoulder. you turn to jiwon and rei, about to ask if they’re ready to leave when you’re interrupted by two loud voices. “girls! hey!” you turn your head to see two members of the boys swim team— who’s names you never bothered to learn— running up to you and your friends.

“hey,” one of them pants, “don’t leave yet.” you look at your friends once more, studying their expressions that look just as confused as yours. “anton wanted— ouch!” the boy is interrupted by his friend slapping him on the arm harshly, as if he had said something wrong. “all of us, i mean, wanted to know if you girls would like to join us tonight,” the boy finishes, rubbing his arm while sending a subtle glare in his friend’s direction.

“join you.. in doing what, exactly?” you inquire, serious as ever. the two boys seemingly grow smaller under your intimidating gaze as if they hadn’t anticipated your somber attitude. “we’re doing a bonfire,” the other boy replies, pointing his thumb in the direction of the rest of his team. you look over the boy’s shoulder, your eyes landing upon anton, who is already looking at you. upon seeing your eyes scan over him, he looks away.

rei claps her hands together a few times, “we’ll be there! thank you for inviting us.” her words startle you and you open your mouth to protest. you had just been seconds away from telling the boys in front of you that you weren’t interested.

“yeah, count us in!” jiwon chimes, and you want the tiled floor below to swallow you whole. “you guys have fun, then,” you tell them, eyes swimming with boredom, “i’m going home.”

“no!” the boys in front of you shout in unison, startling you and your team. “you have to come. especially,” one of them pleads. “and why is that?” you put one hand on your hip, intimidating them further.

everyone already seems to know the answer to your question before the boys can even formulate the words to say it. “our captain wants you to.”

your teammates all but drag you to the beach against your will, uttering complaints about how you “need to learn how to have fun” and how they’ve “been waiting for something exciting like this to happen”.

within the first 5 minutes of your arrival, you’ve already tried to escape more times than your friends are able to count. wonyoung had to keep a tight grip on your wrist to ensure that you wouldn’t go anywhere, and you swear at the girl in your head for being stronger than she appears.

“i can’t believe anton himself told his friends to invite us just so he could see y/n,” rei mutters, astonished, “do you have any idea how lucky you are?”

“that’s definitely not the reason,” you deny, already wanting to drop the topic, “they probably just thought it would be funny because everybody on the planet knows that i hate him.”

and while taesan and leehan are most definitely aware of your hatred towards their captain, their reasoning for inviting you and your team really was because anton wanted to see you.

“invite the girls team!” leehan mocks, intentionally making his voice sound higher, “i feel sooo bad for them!” anton pays no mind to the way he’s being blatantly teased, his eyes trained on you. “feel bad for them my ass,” taesan comments under his breath, “he’s already making heart eyes at her, just like i said.”

“you’re a real masochist, you know that?” leehan adds, waving a hand in front of anton’s line of sight. the taller boy blinks in response as if he had broken out of whatever trance you had him under. “that girl doesn’t even try to hide the fact that she hates you, and you’re still, like, obsessed with her.”

anton sharply exhales through his nose, not needing another reminder of the fact that you dislike him and that he’s stupid for helplessly pining after you.

“i’ve heard that a million times,” he retorts, “and i’m not obsessed with her. in fact, i’m starting to hate her, too.”

he thinks that lying to his teammates is just as difficult as lying to sohee and seunghan, only receiving humorless looks in response to his statement. “right,” taesan scoffs, “you hate her so much that you forced me and leehan to invite the entire girls swim team just so you could see her.” anton lightly hits him with the back of his hand, muttering, “i told you that’s not the reason.”

all three boys turn to look at you, arms crossed and unamused. “oh, man,” leehan laughs, “she’s bored out of her fucking mind.” anton watches you carefully, your eyes burning a hole in the sand beneath your shoes. “why don’t you go talk to her, captain?” taesan teases, slapping his friend on the back boyishly. anton staggers forward about a centimeter due to the impact, looking back at the boy. “or anyone on the girls team, for that matter. since you made us invite every single one of them,” leehan quips.

but anton thinks that talking to you would only dampen your mood even further, and he doesn’t want the glare that you’re currently directing towards the sand to be aimed at him. “try talking to her, right there,” leehan points to someone in your general direction and anton follows his finger with his gaze, “naoi rei. she’s one of y/n’s closest friends, i think.”

taesan lets out another scoff, “yeah, but she’s not y/n. anton wants y/n, not the next best thing.”

jiwon and rei stand next to the bonfire, and you overhear one of them comment on how it isn’t as big as they were expecting it to be. you see wonyoung and yujin sitting on some large rocks a short distance away from the shore. you quickly scan the perimeter looking for gaeul, who you find sitting on the sand and looking up at the stars. your friends are all enjoying themselves— why aren’t you?

as per usual, you want to blame your discomfort on the fact that anton is in your vicinity. but how exactly could you do that when he hasn’t interacted with you all night?

come to think of it, your last interaction with the boy in question was earlier today when you told him that his hair looked stupid. you shake your head at the memory— you hadn’t even meant it. you actually liked his hair, but you’d rather drop dead than admit that to him. you hate lee anton with a burning passion, and you hate that you like his hair.

you hate that you’re currently sitting here wishing that he would come up to you and say something. after all, your friends dragged you here and his teammates made it seem as though your attendance was obligatory. the way you see it, the least anton could do after subjecting you to all of that is talk to you. you suppose that you can’t really blame him for not wanting to, though. you kick the sand beneath you at the realization.

you’re not sure how much time you spend thinking about the boy you swear to hate with every fiber of your being, but you conclude that a few long minutes must’ve gone by, because suddenly you look up and find that both your team and anton’s team are gathered around the fire. you watch them carefully, eyes wandering from individual to individual.

you see yujin laughing with some guy from the other team. you see the two boys that invited you and your friends to this very event. finally, your eyes land on anton, and you regret it almost immediately.

he’s nervously scratching the back of his neck the way you often catch him doing. he’s got a bashful smile on his lips as he looks down at whoever he’s currently talking to. you crane your neck to see who that may be, and find that it’s none other than your own teammate and friend— naoi rei.

you make a face of disgust that no one sees, and only then do you realize that you’re still standing a good distance away from the large group. “oh my god,” you scowl. you run a hand over your face, conflicted. you already hated being here, and seeing anton converse with one of your closest friends might’ve just made your attitude towards this whole situation a million times worse. you know that rei is probably over the moon right now, looking up at him with a twinkle in her eye and a girlish smile.

you want to be happy for her— you think that any good friend would jump at the sight of their teammate getting along with the person they find attractive— and you swear that you would be if the person she was talking to was anyone but him. you tell yourself that it’s because rei deserves better than him, ignoring the way your heart plummets. he was only going to chase after you for so long.

you shake your head rapidly as if it would rid your mind of the thought, not knowing where it came from in the first place.

you need to get out of here— asap.

you hate lee anton and you hate that you like his hair and you hate that you spent a decent amount of time tonight wishing that he’d speak to you.

you hate that you even care in the slightest that he’s currently flirting with your best friend and you hate that almost everyone here managed to convince you that he and his teammates invited you simply because he wanted you here.

you discreetly make your way around the group, advancing towards the shore. you don’t think anyone sees you as you do so, hearing the sound of their laughter grow more distant with each step you take towards the sea. as you continue moving forward absentmindedly, you don’t realize that you’re already knees deep in the water until a salty wave crashes into you, reaching the area below your thigh.

“what are you doing?” your head quickly turns to find the source of the voice and you scowl once you realize who it is.

of course, anton chooses now to finally talk to you.

you turn back around, ignoring him, because that’s how you are— you think about him more than you’d ever like to admit and act indifferent towards him once he’s in your presence. anton watches as you turn your back to him, unsure of why he assumed that this interaction with you would be any different from your interactions in the past.

nonetheless, with bravery that he didn’t even know he had, anton continues talking. “you could get sick if you go any further,” he blurts out.

in truth, anton had been watching you through his peripheral vision as he was conversing with rei, and saw as you treaded through the sand and into the water. he excused himself— he had been looking for a way to escape the conversation anyway— and followed your silhouette that was now standing in the ocean, letting waves collide with your legs.

in retrospect, he should’ve thought of something to say to you beforehand, because if the mere act of him talking to you wasn’t enough to piss you off, anton was sure that lecturing you about how you could get sick from swimming at night would definitely cause you to flip your lid.

his suspicions appear to have been correct, because you whip your head back around and give him an angry look. “what are you doing here?” you spit, expecting him to flinch and avoid your gaze the same way that he always does.

“why can’t i be here?” he presses, furrowing his brow, and you’re the one that flinches. “do you own the ocean?”

you’re sure that steam would be coming out of your ears right now if you were living in an old cartoon. you clench your fist, taken aback.

“why do you hate me so much, y/n?” anton pleads, unable to prevent the million dollar question from leaving his lips. this is a position he never thought he’d find himself in; confronting you about your unadulterated hatred towards him while your entire bottom half is almost completely submerged in the ocean.

your lip quivers and you clench your teeth as you feel your resilient facade start to crack. neither you nor anton are sure where his daring attitude came from, but it seems to be catching both of you by surprise, because even the boy in question moves to wipe his palms against his jeans to rid them of their clamminess. “answer me,” he demands, his voice as soft as it normally is and yet it still intimidates you.

you turn around for the forth and final time, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of discovering the root of your distaste towards him. anton shakes his head, although you’re unable to see it, and sharply inhales in preparation for what he’s about to do.

he cautiously takes a step forward, letting the water dampen the cuffs of his jeans. he cringes, but proceeds nevertheless, mimicking the strides that you had taken minutes prior.

before you’re able to prevent it from happening, anton is standing directly beside you, jeans darkening as the water seeps into them, and you nearly jump out of your skin.

the tall boy leans forward, and you lean back. “answer me,” he repeats his previous words in a hushed voice.

you’re looking down at the water that the two of you are standing in and anton thinks it’s funny, for a moment, how the roles seem to be reversed— you’re tense and apprehensive while he’s bold and collected, trying to crane his neck to meet your downward pointed gaze.

“you should know the reason why,” he hears you speak under your breath. you finally look at him, eyes narrowed. “you’re making fun of me, aren’t you?” you question, and he recoils.

“i’m not— what? why would— why do you think i’m making fun of you?” anton sputters, genuinely appalled at the accusation. he’s unable to wrap his head around what kind of thoughts might be running through your mind right now.

“because there’s no way in hell that you don’t know why i hate you, lee anton,” you say, words flying from your mouth hurriedly. “there’s no way you just let me push you around and stare at you like you’re the scum of the earth if you don’t know the reason why. you have to know,” you look into his eyes in search of an answer but you’re only met with confusion.

anton shakes his head. “i don’t know, y/n,” he begins, “i really don’t know, and i’m sorry if you think i’m playing a prank on you right now, but i’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

he looks down momentarily, his eyes landing on his wet jeans. when he looks back up, he’s zoned in on the way the moon makes your eyes look as though they’re sparkling, and he thinks it’s beautiful. “you may know this already,” he starts speaking again, “but i’m in love with you.”

he makes sure not to stutter or appear anxious in the slightest, afraid that if he made the slightest mistake, he’d try to prevent the words from leaving his mouth. and he needs you to know.

your lips part, his words shocking you more than anything else that has taken place tonight. “i’m always lying to my teammates and my friends, saying that i don’t like you because they think i’m insane for chasing after someone who wishes i didn’t even exist,” anton continues, his tone becoming sorrowful, “but i can’t lie anymore. especially not to you.”

by now, both of your hearts are pounding, and you’re sure that they would be audible if it weren’t for the sounds of the waves crashing. “so, no,” he says, “the reason i let you push me around isn’t because i know why you hate me. it’s because i’m in love with you, and no matter how hard i try, i can’t stop.”

he waits for you to respond, eyes trained on yours. you finally start speaking, lowly and carefully. “there was this guy,” you tell him, “you used to hang out with him last year. i would see you and him laughing together all the time, with two other friends of yours.”

taking in your words, anton ponders who you could be referring to before his eyes widen slightly. “wonbin?” he asks, although he has no doubt in his mind that you’re talking about his older friend. wonbin, seunghan, sohee and anton were practically attached at the hip during the latter’s freshman year of college, and when wonbin made the decision to drop out in order to pursue a career in music, the other three were left to fend for themselves.

you scoff, despite wanting to contain your hostility towards the boy after his confession. “i don’t know his name,” you mumble, “but yeah, that’s probably him.”

anton nods, urging you to continue. he’s finally going to find out why you’ve disliked him for as long as he can remember and he doesn’t want to waste a second. “he told me that you liked me,” you say, watching as the boy flinches in your peripheral at your words. “and i was so happy at the time because i liked you, too.”

it’s anton’s turn to be stunned by your confession, not believing the words that are coming out of your mouth. “i would always look at you, but you’d never look at me back. when your friend— wonbin, i guess— told me that you liked me, i thought that meant you would talk to me,” you shake your head at the memory, “but you never did. it was like i didn’t even exist to you.”

you keep talking, quietly, “every single person who knew me knew that i liked you. one day, i saw you guys laughing together like you always did, and then it clicked in my brain.” you’re silent for a moment before you continue. “i figured that you must’ve known that i liked you, too, and told your friend to say that to me as some sort of cruel joke.”

anton is yet again appalled at your words. “you only seemed to start caring about my existence at the beginning of last semester. you tried to come up to me a few times, and i always assumed it was because you were finally feeling bad about the whole wonbin thing and wanted to apologize, and i didn’t want to hear it. it was around that time that i started hating you.”

you scratch the back of your neck, not having thought that you’d ever admit any of this to the boy standing beside you. anton swallows before he thinks over his next words. “i didn’t know about any of that,” he assures you, and he can sense that you doubt his words momentarily because he starts talking faster. “i’m not sure what prompted wonbin to say that to you, but i can tell you this,” he whispers, “i’ve been in love with you from the very first time i saw you, and no amount of insults or glares from you is ever going to change that.” for a moment, even the waves of the ocean seem to still, leaving only the sound of anton’s voice ringing in your ears.

you’re not used to feeling this vulnerable, and the fact that you’re sharing a moment like this with lee anton— the man you (no longer) hate— sends a shiver down your spine. you find yourself searching for a sense of familiarity, even if it comes in the form of playful banter rather than the usual insult.

“say that again,” you tell him, and he’s unsure if you’re being serious at first. when silence lingers in the air, he finally begins speaking. “i’ve… been in love with you since the first time i saw you,” anton says, unsure. you shake your head, displeased.

“put it in the present tense,” you purse your lips, crossing your arms. anton lets out a curt laugh, now realizing that you’re actually joking with him. so this, he thinks, is what it feels like to laugh with you. “i’m in love with you, y/n,” by now, he’s adorning a smile that reaches his eyes, head slightly tilted towards the ground bashfully.

“wanna know something, lee anton? i think i might be, too.”

weeks later, you’re swinging open the doors to the pool area, the smell of chlorine crashing into you as you step inside.

the boys team is in the middle of practicing, leehan and taesan— who’s names you finally learned after enduring weeks of their relentless teasing, always having to hear a complaint from them about how their team captain is even less focused than before since the two of you started dating— spotting you almost immediately. they let out exaggerated groans, knowing they now have to witness you and anton grossly interact.

“captain!” taesan calls out with dread lacing his tone, “your girlfriend is here.” upon hearing that, anton, who is currently in the pool, whips his head around so quickly that you’re almost positive he could’ve gotten whiplash. you wave, and rather than exiting the water, he swims over to where you stand on the poolside. looking up at you, he smiles, slightly out of breath. “hey, lovely,” he says, removing the goggles from around his head so he can study you better.

he pays no mind to the sounds of his teammates gagging in the background, not looking anywhere but at you.

to say that both your team and anton’s team were surprised upon hearing about your blossoming relationship with the boy would be an understatement. not only did both teams have to grow accustomed to the fact that you no longer hated anton, but they also needed to get used to the mere concept of you two dating each other. it wasn’t as though you two no longer served as distractions to the other, however— if anything, you both stared at each other even more than you had previously, the difference being that now you looked at anton with adoration in your eyes rather than resentment.

“i don’t know if seeing you two together makes my heart want to explode with joy, or if it makes me wanna throw up,” you recall rei telling you during practice one day. anton has shared similar stories, stating that although both taesan and leehan are happy to see their captain in a relationship with the girl he’s been pining after, they hate the way anton apparently never shuts up about you during training.

you look down at the boy, flashing him a smile of your own. droplets of water threaten to fall into his eyes, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “hey,” you hum, “i won’t bother you long. just checking in.” anton shakes his head, water spraying the floor beneath you in the process. “you never bother me,” he says.

“oh, hush,” you wave your hand dismissively. “i’m serious. hey, can you come down here for a sec?” anton asks, gesturing for you to crouch next to the pool. you give him a suspicious look, morphing your lips into a tight line. “anton, i’m not letting you pull me in there.”

he shakes his head again, letting out a laugh. “i’m not gonna pull you in,” he tells you, and you still aren’t convinced. “y/n!” he whines, stretching the final syllable. you look to the ceiling for a moment, letting out a scoff before kneeling down next to the pool.

in a swift motion, anton grabs your shoulders and lands a kiss on your lips. it’s wet from the water of the pool and you pull away, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. anton is laughing as you swat at his arm, muttering something about how he got your shirt wet.

anton sees an opportunity in the fact that you haven’t stood up yet, fully wrapping his arms around your shoulders, nearly causing you to fall into the chlorinated water. his laughter only increases in volume, and his teammates don’t think they’ve ever heard him laugh that hard. you let out a yelp, feeling the water continue to seep through the fabric of your shirt. you struggle against his embrace, and he shows no signs of releasing you. “lee anton! oh my god— i hate you!”

you both know that you’re lying.

AUTHOR’S NOTE! this is my 30th time trying to post this but we move

#riize x reader #lee anton #anton imagines #anton x reader #riize anton #riize #riize scenarios #req #riize angst #riize fluff

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touchme-teezme · 6 months ago

Note

hi mimi! idk if u take requests but last pick was everything to me like i lovedddd the book that inspired you 😭🥹 can i PLEASE get a san version with the “did you want to watch me burn” poem? just destroy me. my heart is yourssss

This Time.

PAIRING | collegeboy!san x fab!reader

TAGS | arguments, smut with a plot, kissing, oral, angsty unprotected breakup sex, san has great pull out game, and a (sort of?) cliffhanger… again? idk i suck at writing tags and proper endings lolololol

RATINGS | NSFW 18+ (minors pls DNI/if it makes u uncomfortable don’t read it)

SONGS | No One Noticed - The Marías, Not You Too- Dr*ke & Been Like This - Doja Cat

SUMMARY | The breakup for this couple was on the horizon. One of them was in denial, and it’s not you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you all for showing Last Pick a lot of love & anon for enjoying it. since a san version was requested, here ya go :) lmk which member should be next if you'd want me to actually make this into an angsty atz smut series. kinda like the idea they’re all connected?¿ like a smutiverse… im a little tipsy rn writing this part. also if u catch mistakes, no u didn’t. kk bye love uou

+ 💌 click here to see my Love Interrupted series masterlist [ot8] — check out the other parts!

inspired by a quote from Save Me An Orange by Hayley Grace: what more did you want from me? i gave you my heart my soul my body i let you build a home inside of me but you still went to the store and bought a lighter just to set me on fire did you want to watch me burn?

You’re usually an optimist but it wasn’t until San smashed the vase you bought and painted together at that one arts and crafts store that you realized optimism could only take you so far.

A screaming match broke out immediately. Words bounced off the walls, echoing in your small apartment as fingers were being pointed. He followed you around the entire house as you tried to walk away from the conversation, pinging in your ear like a fly.

San gets emotional when he cares. It was the first thing you liked about him when you first started to talk. How nice would it be to be with someone so well in-tune with their emotions that they don’t why away from it?

If only you’d known it would result in this.

The relationship was done for. It had been for a while. He had been far too busy juggling classes, work, and his new friends who seemed to suddenly fill all the time he used to spend with you. You’d barely even seen him in weeks, and when you did, it was like you were fighting for scraps of his attention.

San’s voice cracked as he shouted behind your head. “You think I don’t know I’ve been busy? I’ve been juggling everything, trying to keep it all together, and you—you—think I don’t feel guilty? You want me to just drop everything? Stop hanging out with my friends? Quit school? What do you want from me?”

He was following you now, not letting you get a moment of peace. You forced yourself to focus on the task of cleaning up the shards, trying to block out his words as you looked for the broom around your house.

“Do you think I want this? You think I want to feel like this? You think I want to hurt you? But you keep demanding more from me, and I can’t do it anymore! I can’t just stop living my life to fix yours!”

“Oh fuck off!” You barked back, finally finding the broom that was in an odd spot in your wardrobe (probably because San had placed it there the last time he used it). You were now growing more annoyed.

“Don’t curse at me! Listen to me for goodness sake!”

Your hands trembled around the broom handle, but you marched towards the vase shards and started sweeping, trying not to hear the poison dripping from his mouth. You had given up on fighting—there was no point anymore. He was too far gone, wrapped up in his own world that was so difficult for him to show up.

“You’re too much, alright?” he spat, his voice cracking with frustration. “I can’t breathe, I can’t think. Every time I try to focus on something else, you’re right there, needing something from me. I can’t fix this. I can’t keep being suffocated—“

You dropped the broom.

You turned slowly, meeting his gaze for the first time, and in that moment, you never felt like this about him before.

“Do you hear yourself?” Your voice was shaking, but it was steady, sharp. “In that whole rant you just forced me to hear, not once did you mention us—not once did you mention me like i’m not in this fucking relationship with you! Not once did you mention all i’ve done for you, and the only time you did was to insult me!”

San opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He just stood there, eyes wide, lips trembling.

You stepped forward as if to challenge his speechlessness, your heart pounding in your chest. “What the fuck are you still doing here then?!”

The room fell silent.

And then, out of nowhere, he tried to reach for you.

It was a movement fuelled by panic if he was truly honest, it was a final desperate attempt to fix things without actually knowing how.

He just knew that he had to have you in his arms and you’d melt. His hand caught yours, pulling you closer, but you yanked it away.

He stepped closer, his breath ragged, reaching for you again with a look in his eyes that was pure guilt you knew all too well.

Your stern face broke when he managed to get you in his large strong arms that wrapped around you.

You stood there, shaking, breathing hard, barely able to hold back the tears.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” Your cracking voice was muffled against his hard chest.

And then, in his painful silence, he cupped your face and pressed his lips against yours.

You did not stop him.

In fact, you couldn’t.

His next kiss was more desperate and frantic than the last, like he was trying to compensate for all the times he had utterly let you down.

When he finally found the self control to pull back, both of you were panting, faces flushed, hearts racing. He looked at you with a mix of fear, guilt, and longing in his eyes. He wiped your damp cheeks, cupping the sides of your face.

"I don’t mean to," He whispered. “I-I swear, everything I said, I-“

You shook your head in denial, wanting to just shut him up with more kisses knowing if you both talked, you’d eventually argue.

For once, you didn’t want to fight. If the relationship was crashing and burning right now, might as well get one last lick out of it, right?

Metaphorically, and quite literally.

San groaned softly into your mouth, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair and snake to the small of your back as he deepened the kiss with his tongue.

"You drive me insane," He breathed against her lips, breaking the kiss to look into her eyes.

It was true, you always had, in the best and worst ways possible. The feeling was mutual as you stared back at him.

He couldn't resist your pull, the way you were in the moment consumed him entirely. His hands roamed your curves, and reached down to grip your ass firmly as he walked you backwards towards the couch.

You let out a soft gasp, your fingers digging into his waist as you let yourself get sat down with him positioned above you. His knee perched up right between your slightly parted legs.

The friction his knee brushing between your legs sent a jolt of desire straight to your core. He could feel your pulse quickening, and your breath hitching as he sucked and kissed the sides of your neck.

Your hands slipped beneath his black shirt, seeking for skin. With a slight eager tug, he took it off without any argument, revealing his lean muscled torso that you did not hesitate to touch and admire knowing it was going to be the last time.

Instead of letting that knowledge crush you or him, with a low moan, he just leaned into your touch.

“Tell me to stop…” He breathed out, hands on your shoulders to steady himself. He struggled to maintain control as his arousal throbbed against the inside of his zipper.

“Keep going.” You replied in a husky whisper.

With a groan, he gave in to the temptation. His tongue met yours, as his hands slid down to your chest to cup your breasts through the thin fabric of your top, having to bite back a smirk when your back arched into his technique.

Your nimble fingers freed him from his jeans. Unbuttoning, and then zipping down before massaging his hard on through the fabric of his underwear. A breath of relief escaped his lips when his throbbing cock was finally freed.

He helped you out of your top, watching you stroke his impressive length in your hands from above. His hands glided down your back and unclasped your bra, letting your breast sit in all its glory.

He was going to take care of you first until your mouth engulfed him without missing a beat.

“O-oh my god.” His hips bucked involuntarily forward as your skilled hand continued to stroke, the dual sensations of her and her fingers wrapped around his member threatening to overwhelm him.

San’s eyes rolled back as you took him entirely into your mouth. His body weight leaning on his forearms that were on either sides of your head, holding onto the back of the couch for dear life.

Your skilled tongue and throat working in tandem to bring him to the brink of madness. The wet heat blanketing his aching cock was almost too much to bear, each bob of her head sent him more and more over the edge.

"Oh f-fuck!” His mouth hung open as he fisted your hair and fought the urge to thrust deeper.

A part of him couldn’t make sense why this was happening now of all times. He could’ve just taken your desperation to touch him for granted but something about it didn’t feel right.

With effort and a hell lot of focus, San gently stopped you before he could cum. He stroked the side of your face when you looked up at him confused. He shot one of the sweetest dimpled smiles at you.

Seeing that dimpled smile light up your face.

With a hand behind your head, he laid you back on the couch gently. Your hands politely stayed on your own chest, cupping them as you watched his next move.

In one swift motion, he tugged down your underwear with your pyjama shorts and tossed them away.

One of your legs get thrown over his shoulder, and he used his other hand to part your leg wider. His head moved down to your glistening sex and his tongue licked a strip up your folds.

Air got caught in your throat. You let out a shaking deep breath through your lips. His hand on your thigh moved up to your chest, intertwining his fingers with your fingers against your racing heartbeat.

You gripped onto his fingers every time he’d do something that sent shockwaves through your body either with his lips, tongue or his nose. He kissed your sensitive clit, alternating his tongue between that and pounding into your entrance.

“San,” You whined, which only encouraged him to keep going. You tilted your chin upwards, facing the ceiling as tears began welling in your eyes. Unclear if it was the pleasure or the sinking feeling in the out of your stomach.

Then you felt that body shock again, jolting you as you let out a loud moan.

You met his eyes. Those cat-like eyes staring back at you between your legs with laser focus before lazily shutting when he turned his head to the side to lap up your slick arousal from the inner part of your thighs.

He got up and took off his underwear before hovering on-top of you, centring his hard shaft just past your entrance as he supported himself up by the armrest behind your head.

His chain necklace to drop down and dangle in your face.

He gazed into your eyes, reaching down to rub your slick folds once more. He leaned down to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips as he readjusted his hard dick between your legs. Your hands wrapped themselves in the dip of his waist as your knees pressed against his hips.

“We can’t keep fighting forever,” You told him in a faint whisper.

Leaning down, he distracted you by capturing your lips into a tender loving kiss to slowly pushed in. He felt your teeth on his lip as your walls adjusted to him.

“I know.” Was all he could murmur against your face as a hand cupped one side of your face.

He kept having your lips in between his as he started to move, his hips rolling in a slow rhythm designed to slowly ease into you. Small gasps escaped your lips and you clutched onto his biceps for support while your neck stretched upwards.

“Baby, you feel incredible.” He picked up the pace slightly, his thrusts growing deeper, and more insistent, as he chased the intense feeling coursing through him.

The way your body clenched around his length, the soft gasps falling from your lips.

With your moans of approval, he seized the opportunity to go even deeper and quicken the pace in your wet welcoming heat. He pulled in your mouth for intoxicating searing kisses he couldn’t get enough of.

“I miss you,” You whimpered out the truth between the kisses. “S-so much.”

He snapped forward with new determination accentuated by the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each other.

He let go of your mouth to focus on your chest. "I'm right here baby." He mumbled over your breasts as he cupped one in his large hands, brushing over your nipples before reaching down to lick.

He alternates between wet kisses and whirling his tongue, aimed to only give you pleasure. In his defence, he hasn't had the opportunity to do this in a while.

You grabbed a side of his face to look into his lustful eyes. “I really did love you.” You breathed out.

“I love you too.” He replied, too entranced by the moment to catch that single word in your sentence.

You crashed your lips against his. The technique of his kissing made you moan loudly into his mouth, and then against his jaw with your eyes shut when he was hitting the perfect spot over and over.

Your body was tensing up tighter and tighter as the pressure of the inside you. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, ready to shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

“I’m close,” San panted. “Come for me. Come first.”

As a result of his husky words, your walls clench around him, and your climax comes crashing in. One passionate thrust as he buried himself inside your convulsing sex, the intense orgasm shook your entire body violently.

While your final convulsions faded, you slumped against the couch, panting heavily. Meanwhile, San rode off your enjoyment only to abruptly slip out of you before blowing a load inside you without a condom on.

He released himself from your legs that were wrapped around him and hurried to your nearby bathroom, his hard-on in his hands.

You lay there in a daze, trying to make sense of everything, feeling a mix of confusion and shame. You covered your face with your hands, desperate to hide from the reality of the situation.

Slowly, you pulled yourself up from the leather couch to sit up, its surface sticking a little to your sweaty skin, before you reached for your underwear lying forgotten at your feet.

You managed to get most of your clothes back on when he returned. The sight of him—his broad athletic build and that confident stride—distracted you just long enough for him to lean down and kiss you, his hands gently resting on the side of your neck.

You instinctively covered his hand with your own, locking eyes with him.

“Everything okay?” His voice was soft.

You stayed quiet for a moment, the weight of his question sinking in.

He kissed you again, his lips warm and insistent, and for a moment, the thoughts swirling in your head began to fade.

Before you knew it, he lowered himself down onto the floor across from you, wanting to pull you on top of him to straddle him.

“Stop. No more.” you murmured, pushing him away gently.

Your heart pounding as your knees pressed against the hardwood floors when you realised you were already sitting on his thighs.

San sharply sighed, a little disappointed, but he didn’t fight it. He let go of his grip on your waist, and you slowly kicked yourself off him.

The two of you lay on the floor, side by side, your breaths finally slowing after whatever that was. The silence between you wasn’t comforting in the slightest.

He reached for his underwear with his feet, slipping it on slowly, his eyes never leaving you. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was going on.

You turned your head to look at him. His eyes turned to the ceiling, his expression unreadable, distant even though he was right there.

“San,” you began softly, your voice breaking the stillness. “I think we—”

His phone buzzed, cutting through the tension, and he glanced at it with another sigh. You felt the moment slip away as he got up and fumbled for his phone left in his pants by the couch.

“It’s Mingi,” he muttered.

“San,” you tried again, your tone heavier this time, begging for his attention. But he’d already answered the call.

You stayed on the floor, your chest tightening as fragments of their conversation reached your ears.

“Dude, what? I’m in the middle of… Huh? No, I haven’t heard from her,” San said, his tone sharp but tinged with concern. “She’s been dodging everyone since that night at Yeosang’s when you wouldn’t shut up about your conquests.”

Your frown deepened as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him. His brows furrowed, his full attention on the call like you weren’t even there.

“Well, maybe you should go check on her then,” San said, leaning back against the couch. “What, come over? Her place or yours?”

A pause, then his expression shifted—confusion, followed by clear exasperation.

San ran a hand through his messy hair. “Fine, whatever. I’ll come over later.” He hung up, tossing the phone onto the floor like it had personally wronged him.

“Mingi needs help with something,” he said it like that was enough explanation.

You stared at him, baffled and angry, “So you’re going?”

He turned to you, guilt flashing briefly in his eyes before he looked away. “I don’t have a choice,” he said quietly.

The words hit you like a slap, but what was worse than the sting was the inevitability that this was always how it would be. You, waiting for scraps of his time, his attention. Him, running off to play hero for everyone but you.

“You always have a choice. You just never choose me.”

Guilt and shame took over his tired expression, “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” You shot back. “You couldn’t even let me finish breaking up with you before answering his call.”

“What? Babe, it’s not like that. Look, he really likes her and—“

“Save it,” you cut him off, your voice sharp. “Since you’re always serious about everyone else, just go.”

He hesitated, his hand hovering near his phone. “You’re being—”

“Go,” you repeated firmly, tears welling in your eyes but your tone unwavering. “And don’t ever come back this time.”

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to defend himself, or to stay, but then he stood up. He pulled the rest of his clothes back on, grabbed his phone, and shoved it into his back pocket without a word.

He glanced at you on his way out, his gaze searching for something, anything, to make this easier. He convinced himself he’d call you tomorrow, that this wasn’t really goodbye like the other times you both have tried to end it. He didn’t realize how serious you were this time.

He walked past the shards and the broom and left. The door clicked shut behind him.

#ateez #choi san smut #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #choi san #ateez oneshot #atz smut #san x reader #atz x reader #ateez fic

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dixons-sunshine · 1 year ago

Text

I Never Lived For The Applause | Daryl Dixon x Former!Celebrity!Fem!Reader

Summary: Before the world quite literally ended, you were a famously known singer. However, your celebrity status didn't do you much good in the apocalypse, despite most people in your group giving you privileges that you didn't want. Thankfully, a certain redneck archer treated you like a normal person, unwillingly becoming the guy who caught your attention.

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Era: The quarry; the farm; the prison.

Warnings: Swearing, usual TWD warnings, suggestive themes.

Word count: 3.9k.

A/n: Okay but the former!celebrity!reader x Daryl was such a unique idea that an anon requested! I never would've thought about that on my own. I thought that this idea would be great combined with a few other requests, and this was born. There's a few time jumps and this is honestly not the best. I scrapped over 1500 words and this is all over the place, and it was supposed to be smut, and I don't really like this, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Before the apocalypse came to be, you were a famous singer and songwriter. You had multiple hit singles that made the charts and your concerts always sold out. It seemed like wherever you would turn, there would be someone there who would want an autograph or a picture. It seemed like you could never escape the spotlight.

Not even now, when the dead started rising and the world came to an end.

“Amy, I told you, I'm fine. I don't want your food. You need it more than I do.”

Amy shook her head defiantly, practically shoving the paper plate into your hands. “I insist. You're my idol, and I'll be damned if I let my idol go hungry when I have food I can give her.”

You sighed and reluctantly accepted the plate. “This is unnecessary. I already had my share, sweetheart. You don't have to give me yours when you also have to eat.”

“I'm fine. Rather me than you.”

Before you could protest, Andrea called Amy's name. Amy gave you an apologetic smile and bid you farewell, walking over to her sister and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sighed and turned around, heading over to the tent you shared with your daughter. You opened the flap and stepped inside, seeing your twelve year old daughter, Nicolette, busy sketching in her sketchbook.

She looked up when she heard you step inside, sending you a smile. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Nic,” you greeted her, sitting down on your cot opposite hers. “Why aren't you outside with the other kids?”

Nicolette shook her head, closing her sketchbook and sitting up in her cot. “Most of them treat me funny. They keep asking me if I can sing or if I can write songs, and if I got free stuff because you were famous. Only Carl and Sophia treat me like I'm a normal kid, but they're with their mom's right now.”

You sighed, guilt gnawing at you from the inside. Never once did you regret having your daughter, but sometimes you regretted having to raise her while you were in the spotlight. The paparazzi were relentless, and your daughter more often than not had to pay the price for that. It was unfair, and you wished that you could've just faded from the spotlight to raise your daughter in peace.

“I'm sorry, baby. If I knew back then what my fame could do to you, I never would have signed on with that record label. I wish I could take it back.”

Nicolette shook her head. She got up from her cot and sat down next to you, leaning her head on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around her, placing a tender kiss on her head.

“It's not your fault, Mom. I don't blame you. You shouldn't, either.”

You shook your head. “That's easier said than done,” you replied, before adopting a more lighthearted tone. “But let's not talk about that. I've got some more food for you if you're hungry.”

Nicolette smiled at you and nodded eagerly. “I'm starving. Thanks, Mom.”

You smiled at her. However, before you could respond, a ruckus could be heard outside your tent. Both yours and your daughter's heads snapped in the direction of the two voices, instantly going quiet to hear what was happening.

“M'tellin ya, man. S'a fuckin' waste of time. We should jus' cut our losses here and scram. Take a few guns and food fer the road.”

“Merle, fer the last fuckin' time, we can't leave righ' now. It's too dangerous. We should wait 'til the heat dies down 'fore we go.”

“Wha' m'hearin' s'tha' yer a pussy. Wha's the matter, Darylina? Scared the geeks will get ya? 'Cause yer too incompetent to handle 'em?”

“Fuck off, Merle! It ain't like tha'. I jus' dun' wanna risk our lives if we dun' need to.”

“Whatever, man. M'goin' back to the tent.”

The man who's name you had learnt to be Merle left, his retreating footsteps growing fainter until you couldn't hear them anymore. However, you could clearly see the silhouette of the other man still outside your tent. You could hear him quietly muttering to himself.

Turning to Nicolette, you gently placed the plate with the food—cooked squirrel with some beans—onto her lap and stood up. You turned to her and leaned down to place a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“Eat up and get ready for bed. I'll be right back and then we'll continue reading that book.”

Nicolette nodded, and with that, you exited your tent. The man stood with his back to you, but a simple slight twitch of his head in your direction showed that he had heard you. His body stiffened visibly, and you frowned at that.

“Hey. You're Daryl, right?” you asked him, prompting the man to turn around.

However, he didn't meet your gaze, finding great interest in the ground below. He simply grunted his acknowledgement, a slight upwards nudge of his nose confirming your question.

“I'm Y/n. It's nice to officially meet you,” you introduced yourself, extending your hand to his for a handshake. Daryl made no move to shake it, however, making you awkwardly retract your hand. “I, uh, just wanted to say that you were right.”

“Wha'?” Daryl asked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. He hadn't meant for the question to slip from his lips, trying to just remain quiet until you got the message that he was in no mood to socialise, but he failed.

“That argument you had with your brother. You were right. It's way too dangerous to wander off on your own right now. Personally I feel like you shouldn't be wanting to go at all because it's safer with a group, but that's not my call to make. Just thought I'd let you know that your instincts are right. Don't listen to your brother.”

Daryl was confused by your niceness. He was even more confused by the fact that you agreed with him. He was so used to women taking Merle's side instead of his all the time, so this was something entirely new for him.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he replied awkwardly, nervously chewing on his lower lip.

You smiled at him before nodding. “Okay, well, just wanted to tell you that. Oh, and to ask you not to argue in front of my tent again. I have a twelve year old in there who doesn't need to hear all of that.”

Daryl ducked his head, an embarrassed blush flushing over his face. “Sorry.”

“I guess I can let it slide this time,” you said with a smile. “And thanks for the squirrel. Thanks to you, my daughter doesn't have to go to bed hungry tonight. Never thought we'd have to resort to eating squirrel, but it's not that bad. It's actually kinda delicious. It's way better than—” Realising that you were busy rambling, you shook your head and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Just, thank you.”

Daryl didn't know why, but he felt an unexplainable pull to you. Maybe it was the way you showed him kindness without even knowing him, or maybe it was the fact that you were the only one who seemed to actually appreciate the food he brought back from his hunts, even if it was squirrels. Despite their hunger, everyone else mostly refused to eat anything he brought back if it wasn't deer. Yet there you were, thanking him for bringing back something as mediocre as squirrel.

And it certainly didn't help that he found you absolutely radiant.

“S'nothin',” he finally responded. “M'jus' glad yer lil' girl can eat tonigh'.”

“You're the one who brought back the squirrels?”

At the sound of a small voice, both you and Daryl turned around to face your daughter. Nicolette walked up to your side and beamed brightly up at Daryl, catching him off guard. The other kids in the camp were terrified of him and wouldn't even glance in his direction, yet this kid was not only looking at him, but willingly talking to him.

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed, smiling fondly down at your daughter.

Nicolette looked up at Daryl, realisation dawning on her. “You're the man with the crossbow! And the vest with the angel wings! You're so cool, sir. Do you think I could maybe shoot your crossbow one time? It's okay if you say no, but can I maybe see how you shoot it so that when I get my own crossbow one day, I know how to use it? Or—”

Daryl's lips subconsciously twitched up into a smile. Her rambling was so similar to yours. Like mother, like daughter, he thought to himself as he looked between the two of you. There were over a dozen similarities between you and Nicolette. She looked just like you.

You placed a hand on Nicolette's shoulder, halting her rambling. You turned to Daryl, giving him a smile. “We should probably get ready for bed. Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night, Daryl!” Nicolette greeted him enthusiastically, following you into the tent.

“Night,” he whispered.

“Oh, and by the way, don't be a stranger. I'd love to see more of you.”

Daryl blushed and ducked his head. He hummed, not trusting his voice at that moment in time.

You smiled and finally entered the tent, zipping the tent closed behind you. He stood there for a couple of moments before turning and walking back to his own shared tent with Merle.

Daryl couldn't explain it, but for some reason, in that short conversation, he felt drawn to you. It was unnerving, but felt nice at the same time. And your daughter was downright an angel, your exact copy.

“Wha' were ya doin', sniffin' 'round tha' popstar?” Merle asked when Daryl entered the tent, catching him off guard. Daryl had assumed that Merle would've been passed out by now, high off of whatever drug he was using that night.

“Popstar? Wha' the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?” Daryl questioned, plopping himself down on his cot.

“Tha' woman ya were talkin' to, she was a singer 'fore all this. Real famous, too. Used to see her on TV and in magazine's all the time.”

Daryl's mind swarmed with questions. You were a famous singer? How the hell did you end up there, with a bunch of nobodies? And why had you thanked him for bringing back something as simple as a squirrel? If you were famous, you had probably eaten banquets of the richest, most delicious food out there, yet you enjoyed squirrel? And to top it off, why would you willingly want to hang out with him of all people?

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl, oh my god.”

At the sound of your panicked voice, Daryl slowly sat upright in the bed in the guest bedroom. He looked up and locked eyes with you, seeing the worry written all over your face. You hurriedly sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and gingerly reached out to touch the bandage around his side, careful not to add too much pressure and hurt him.

“M'fine, sunshine. Dun' have to worry 'bout me,” he replied, waving off your concern and gently grabbing your hand to push it away from the bandage.

You scoffed in disbelief and shook your head. “You're my friend, Daryl. Of course I'm going to worry about you. I care about you, and you expect me to not worry?” you asked, bringing your hand up to gently caress his cheek.

Friend. That word reminded Daryl of how you viewed him. It had been two months since your first interaction at the quarry and his affection and attraction to you had only grown stronger. However, it seemed to him like his feelings weren't reciprocated, so he settled on being your friend.

Little did he know that you felt the exact same way. You just didn't know it yet.

“Heard ya punched Andrea fer shootin' me. Any truth to those rumours?” Daryl asked, diverting the attention away from his now pounding heart as your fingers gently pushed his hair back.

You smiled sheepishly. “My hand slipped?” you tried, shrugging your shoulders.

Daryl smirked slightly and shook his head. “Sure. Whatever ya say, sunshine.”

You let out a sigh, reluctantly drawing your hand back from his hair. “She had it coming. We told her not to shoot and she didn't listen, trying to boost her own ego instead. She almost killed you, Daryl. That's not something she should be allowed to get away with, but Rick and Shane aren't gonna do anything, so I took matters into my own hands.”

Daryl smiled softly. “Not bad fer a popstar.”

You giggled. “Hey, I got into a couple of fights before my career took off. I know my stuff. I know how to shoot a gun, too, but that's a discussion for another day.”

Daryl chuckled and nodded. He shifted back against the headboard and gazed at you, simply admiring your beauty for a moment. It amazed him that a beautiful, kind, caring, smart woman like you would ever wanna be associated with the likes of him. You were perfect and he was, well, him. It didn't make sense, but he dared not to question it.

“Can I ask ya somethin' personal?” he blurted out before he could think about it.

You nodded at him. “Sure.”

“When ya talk 'bout yer career, it sounds like ya hated it. Why'd ya become a singer if ya hated it so much?”

You remained silent for a minute. Daryl feared that he had asked the wrong thing and was about to apologise, but you spoke up.

“I was nineteen when I signed with my first record label. I didn't want to be in the spotlight because singing was more of a hobby to me, but my parents forced me to. Growing up, there wasn't ever really any money around and my parents made it out like it was my fault. They made me feel like I owed them for everything they did for me, and they forced me to sign with that record label. My parents were my managers and all the money I earned for the songs I wrote and sang basically went to them. That went on for a couple of years until I met Nic's father. He was a bass player in a band I was collaborating with. I fell in love way too quickly, jumped into bed with him when he made an advancement and ended up pregnant. The guy didn't want kids and bolted, leaving me a single mom. My parents hated that and basically disowned me.”

“M'sorry to hear tha',” Daryl replied sympathetically. He didn't really know how to respond; he never knew that about you. You chose to keep your life before you had Nicolette private, and he respected that. He had his own demons he preferred to keep quiet.

“It's okay,” you reassured him, shaking your head. “He was an asshole. And I was better off without my parents. I managed to sign with a decent enough record label and the rest was history. I got a ton of backlash from haters for being a single mom. There were even rumours that I had cheated and that's why the guy left me, but that wasn't true. But none of that matters anymore. My reputation doesn't matter anymore. All that matters now is keeping my daughter safe and keeping the people I care about alive. People like you.”

“Ya shouldn't care 'bout me. S'a bad idea.”

“Well, bad idea or not, I care about you. And so does Nic.”

As if being summoned, Nicolette knocked on the door and hesitantly stepped inside. Daryl adjusted the covers over his body and sent her a tight-lipped smile. Nicolette gave him a small smile back but he could clearly tell it was strained. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

“Are you okay?” Nicolette asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if to make herself appear smaller.

“M'fine, kiddo. Dun' worry 'bout me,” he reassured her. “Hershel fixed me righ' up. I'll be outta here in no time.”

Nicolette looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded. “He's right. He'll be fine. Some antibiotics and he'll be up and at it in three days. You'll see.”

“Okay,” she nodded, her eyes flickering between you and Daryl. “I'm glad you're not dead, Daryl.”

Daryl chuckled at the girls forwardness. “M'glad m'not dead, too.”

You smiled at the small interaction between Daryl and Nicolette, your heart swelling with fondness. You stood up from the bed and motioned for Nicolette to follow you.

“C'mon, baby. Let's leave Daryl to get some rest, okay?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could maybe stay?” she asked timidly, nervously fiddling with her hands. “It's just... I wanna stay.”

You looked at Daryl, and he shrugged nonchalantly. Despite his nonchalance, Daryl's heart swelled with fondness. This little girl, who owed him nothing, wanted to stay with him. He couldn't believe it.

“Okay, you can stay for a while. I'll be back later, okay?” you relented.

She nodded and sat down on the chair. You gave Daryl's hand one last squeeze before heading out, sparing one last look at the two. Nicolette was starting to retell some of the events of what her and Carl had gotten up to that day, and Daryl hummed in acknowledgement before looking up and locking eyes with you.

With one last parting smile, you headed out and made your way back to the tents. On your way there, a startling realisation hit you like a ton of bricks, one that would change the way you saw Daryl forever. Despite the fact that he could be snappy at times, and that he was known for being grumpy, he treated you with respect. He didn't care about who you were before the end of the world. He didn't care about your mistakes, about if you were famous or not. That didn't matter to him. He only saw you, the person behind the old tabloids, and he had become close with your daughter. He even took the time out of his day to teach her how to use his crossbow, even if she was a slow learner. And in that moment, you realised something:

You had feelings for him.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Y'know, m'glad Nic didn't have to meet her father. She's better off.”

You turned your head to Daryl, a look of confusion spreading across your features. “I agree with you, but why do you say that? You didn't know the man.”

Daryl shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from you. “Ya said back at Hershel's tha' he never wanted kids. If he had stuck 'round, god knows wha' he would've done to her.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, turning your attention back to the darkness ahead of you. “She is better off.”

The night was relatively quiet, save for the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the prison's fences. Daryl was on watch that night in the guard tower, and you had taken the initiative to join the archer that night. Everyone else had retreated into the prison for the night, leaving only you and Daryl awake.

“So are we gon' tell Nic 'bout us or not?” Daryl broke the silence, taking the last drag from his cigarette before putting it out next to him. “S'been over a month now. She deserves to know.”

Unbidden, flashes of that night a month ago arose in your mind. The feeling of his lips on yours, his hands exploring your body and the way he felt pressed against you. The feeling of your bodies becoming one was one that you wouldn't forget anytime soon, but the one memory you'd hold with you forever was the confession from the man next to you. After the heated, pleasurable moment you'd spent together, feelings were revealed, and you and the archer had unofficially started your relationship. You had both agreed to keep it a secret, but Nicolette was starting to get suspicious about the two of you.

“I'm okay with telling her tomorrow. She deserves to finally have confirmation on her suspicions,” you told him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “She already sees you as her dad, anyways.”

Daryl couldn't argue with that. Flashes of his own arose in his mind. A couple of days ago, he had returned from a run, battered and bruised. He could barely walk and both you and Nicolette were distraught. However, after he was patched up and resting in his cell and you were up in the guard tower for your shift, Nicolette had come to him in tears. He had hugged her tightly to his chest, acutely aware that she was transported back to that day on the farm when he had been shot. That night was the night Nicolette had confirmed that she saw Daryl as a father figure.

“Please don't leave. My mom needs you. I need you. We both need you in our lives. Please, Daryl.”

In that moment, even though she didn't know yet that you and Daryl were together, he knew that he wouldn't be able to live without either of you. You both were his entire world. Nicolette was his little girl. You were his partner, and there was no way he was letting either of you go.

“Dun' worry, Nic. I ain't goin' nowhere. I promise ya tha'.”

Shaken from his thoughts by your lips on his exposed shoulder, he turned his head to you, coming face to face with a mischievous smirk. He instantly knew what that smirk meant, and he helped you climb onto his lap.

“But,” you began, pulling his attention back to your previous discussion. “Let's worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, it's just me and you.”

Daryl smirked and attached his lips to yours. You may have been a popstar before the apocalypse, a celebrity living in a mansion, but in that moment, you were simply you. The woman Daryl cared for deeply, the woman Daryl was never gonna let go of.

Because in that moment, you were nothing but his.

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dandysworld-meh-imagines · 22 days ago

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what if reader sacraficed themself to save goob in the last minute? Ending up becoming a main but quiet and surprisingly nice twisted,how would goob after seeing his beloved toon after distracting the others since the incident?

Reader Sacrificing Themselves To Save Goob!

Angsty!!! I'm not sure if you mean Goob distracting the other twisteds or his fellow teammates so I kinda went with both?? Here you go, dear anon! Thank you for requesting! <3

-Anna

-Hearing machines being finished here and there, you knew it would eventually be time where you needed to head back to the elevator. You watched as the others hurried back and you followed them from behind, rushing to get back. You knew well that if you get left behind, it would take such a long time for the team to arrive at the same floor and save you, most of the toons that got left behind ended up injured or worse, becoming twisteds that only wanted to kill. You took a look behind you, trying to see where Goob was.

-It had become a plan for someone fast enough that had energy to distract and gather the attention of the twisteds while others rushed to every corner to do the machines, it worked wonders. They could find a spot away from everyone while the others could pass without worrying about getting chased. This was your boyfriend's job. His loud footsteps could be heard as he dragged his arms on the floor running around inside a room. You went to check on him when you heard a loud sound and found out that he had fallen down.

-You panicked hard and rushed in, immediately taking the airhorn out of your pockets and jumping in, making Goob flinch as he was very worried for you! You told him to rush back as their attention was on you now, you couldn't let him fall behind, no, never. He immediately got up and started to run to the elevator, the timer was going to end soon. He managed to get in and immediately looked behind him to go and grab you, only to get greeted with the door closing right in front of his face and the room became heavy immediately, especially after Goob touched the door, calling out to you.

-Back at the lobby, Goob would walk super slowly as guilt overwhelmed him. He made a dumb mistake and now you were down there with the twisteds, who knows what has happened to you? Would they get to you in time..? Though everyone was already exhausted for the day and decided tomorrow on it, super early too. It's just that toons that were extremely tired tended to make way more mistakes, leading to more injuries or getting left behind accidentally, they couldn't risk anything more. Goob would stay in his shared room for the night, crying to Scraps about you, saying how he misses you and how sorry he felt.

-He still ran with the same energy, trying his best not to make any more mistakes and lose any precious friend. Goob.. tried to cope by offering hugs to everyone else, distracting them from.. whatever happened yesterday and also for himself to cope. While their hugs never felt as good as when YOU gave him hugs, it still helped a lot. At least it was giving him the courage for the next floor so he could run focused. He could feel everyone's support on him, he won't lose more friends! He just hopes to find you super quick.. please be okay for him. He.. he will give you the longest hug and kisses! Please stay strong for him, alright?

-But on one floor.. the whole team braced as they heard footsteps, it usually meant trouble. A more deadly twisted would be on this floor, instead of the usual awkward silence they would hear, it would be loud, painful sounds and aggressively noises as they roamed around, they were more angry, more deadly, more desperate for a kill. But it was.. silent, the footsteps were there but it was mostly silent. The team looked at each other before heading out after Goob, who his tired eyes lit up the moment he saw it was the floor he lost you before.. please don't let it be too late.. please.

-He desperately searched for you, he found the same twisteds that were on you previously and he froze for a second once he saw that they had more ichor on them.. no, no, he was overthinking again. It couldn't be your own.. right? No, you were fast enough! Surely you got away for a good while, didn't you? Please.. he really hopes you did. He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't spot.. you, who was in front of him. He was looking behind him constantly to see if they were on him and he accidentally bumped into you and fell down. Goob, thinking he hit a wall instead, just looked in fear behind him since he made another mistake once more but the only thing he saw was the twisteds shaking a little and running away.

-Goob looked in front of him and covered his mouth as he shook. It was you, your body was so different yet the same, ichor on you, injuries, you were even double the size!! It terrified him. Your red eyes stared down at him in silence as Goob just kept shaking. He failed you.. oh, how ashamed and afraid he felt at this moment. He thought this was the end for him and just curled up, hiding his face from you, expecting you to do something but.. nothing came after that. You gently poked him with an arm and he raised his head in confusion as tears were already falling from his eyes.

-Goob just.. couldn't help but extend his arms around you and cry on you, apologizing over and over again as he nuzzled his face on you, shaking violently. You just blinked as you tilted your head. You were surprisingly not.. really threatening. One of his teammates came to check the situation after all the yelling and froze once they saw you.. and were shocked too, as you didn't attack Goob at all, just stayed quiet, watching him with your red hurting eyes. It took him a good while for him to take a step back and take a good look at you.

-You stayed calm with everyone else as well.. even though you could never come along with them to the lobby, as it was way too risky, at least they could catch a longer break at this specific floor you were in, since the other twisteds seemed intimidated by you. You would just stare at them, quietly. Goob would give you all the hugs and still felt guilty but at least.. a part of you was still here, with him. He gives you all the affection in the world as an apology but you just lean quietly into it, it might seem not enough but it made Goob at least smile after a long time. He promises to continue giving you so many hugs when he sees you again, don't worry, he'll hug the others on your behalf.. he can't help but miss you terribly when he leaves though. He always tells you that he loves you before heading back.

Thank you for reading! <3

#goob x reader #goob #dandy's world x reader #dandys world x reader #dandy's world #dandys world #dandys world goob #dandy's world goob #writing #gender neutral #angst

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noteriii · 7 months ago

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Hello! I’m thrilled to meet a writer who will create Newt Scamander Fics! That’s amazing he’s super underrated! That being said I would be more than thrilled to request a touched starved Newt Scamander x fem (or Gn if that’s what you’d prefer) Reader who Newts in an established relationship with but it’s new and he’s eager to initiate intimate moments with them big or small to show he loves them. Reader could also be newts assistant as well! Thank you!

i've had this sitting in my drafts for the longest time. just something short and cute. ty anon <3 !

title: scrapped

newt scamander x reader !

you had first met newt when he first began his travels. as silly as it seemed at the time, he was in dire need of an assistant to care for his animals and, in turn, you had been in need of a job. growing up, an elderly neighbor of yours had been a puffskein breeder for some time. it was at a young age where you were taught the beauty of magical nature, where a love for creatures was born. so, with that warm desire to care and protect these creatures, you had studied materials available to you in hopes to learn more of them. when you had learned a young man in the ministry was in the process of writing a manuscript on the information and care of these creatures, you had beamed at the thought of another wizard caring for them as much as you did. you had almost jumped at the ‘in need of assistant’ announcement that floated around hogsmeade as you worked a bored shift at a small corner bakery. seeing as you were one of the few options, newt had chosen you to work alongside him and his beloved creatures. with proper instruction and care, they soon became your creatures as much as they were his and everything seemed more lively around the case.

now, five years later, you sat quietly at newt’s kitchen table, humming to the music playing off the phonograph. on this quiet spring day, you two had initially planned to go on a nice, much needed date. the weather, on the other hand, had other plans. the rain pelted down against the pavement almost as soon as you arrived at his quaint townhome. so, instead of going for a nice lunch, you two had opted to stay inside and enjoy each other’s company. the fireplace warmed the home and the smell of stew wafted around the kitchen. as you made your lunch, newt was in the basement tending to the creatures. though working with him everyday for years, you and newt had only started dating four months ago (there was always a push and pull from either of you deeming a romantic relationship inappropriate for work partners before he asked you to go out for dinner one night and you caved into his romances). you had slowly come to terms with his home being yours in a sense that you were here on both your on and off days. you lifted yourself from your spot at the dining table, leaving your sketch of the small golden snidget you had recently rescued, and made your way back into the small kitchen to finish your meals. your hips swayed to the music that played quietly from the living room as you fixed two bowls of stew for you and your boyfriend, setting a kettle on the stove for tea afterwards. and, with both bowls in hand, you make your way down to the basement.

newt is at his own desk downstairs, eyes fixated on whatever's in front of him when you find him. it’s warm in the basement, or at least where he is currently stationed, and you find yourself tugging at the sweater you had decided to wear. you clear your throat to let your presence downstairs known before stepping to his desk, placing the warm soup in front of him. “your lunch, sir” you say lightly to him, a smile gracing your features. he can’t help but smile as well, moving whatever was in front of him out of view. “thank you, dear.. it smells wonderful,” he says, looking around his desk for his wand. upon finding it, with the flick of his wrist, your own desk chair from across the room finds its way to the table, next to his. “come sit, i do have something to show you..” newt explains, smiling as you take a seat- the chair pushes in the slightest bit afterwards. you giggle at the small gesture. once settled in your seat, your boyfriend scoots his chair a little closer to yours with the tiniest blush on his face. how cute. clearing the table of the stray papers and tools, he reveals what he had been keeping behind his back. it was a small folded bouquet of flowers using old papers from the past few weeks. you feel that your cheeks warm up at the cute gesture, still not used to the small acts of love that came with the new relationship. you take the small bouquet of flowers from him, smiling at him warmly. “i was going to buy one while we were out for lunch today before the weather turned upset. i hope this can make up for it for now,” he tells you softly, eyes darting from your own and to the paper in your hands. you admire the work, seeing scribbled bits and pieces of scrapped notes and drawings- his handwriting and love coating each fold of the paper.

with the smell of your lunch wafting through the office, the sounds of the animals milling about their days from out the door, and the love of your life next to you.. there was nothing else you could ask for.

#noteriii #fantastic beats and where to find them #newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt x reader #harry potter fanfiction #reader insert #fem reader #x reader #harry potter

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bottledpeaches · 12 days ago

Text

the missing ten bytes

SYNOPSIS: even with the newfound ability of speech, he finds he's still unable to tell you how he really feels

CHARACTERS: metal sonic, tails, sonic, eggman, amy

TAGS: set after idw battle for angel island arc, jealous metal in denial, metal has a slight existential crisis, gn reader, mild profanity, fluff, 6.9k+ wc

TAGLIST: @waayix as requested <3, @affinitytales

special thanks to @nyehpperino and @angelitenails for beta reading this! ily <3

also confession time... affi I'm ur 💜 anon

NOTES: lots of computer terminology but I am not a programmer, its been over a month since I last wrote so this may be rusty pls bear with me </3, sonfic nation pls accept my humble first offering

dividers are from @cafekitsune

“Tails… What’s that you’re holding?”

Covered in machine oil and dust as per usual, the boy genius looks over and waves at you. When he notices you staring, he holds up the device in his free hand. It’s small, fitting snugly into the palm of his hand, and resembles an earpiece.

“Oh, this? It’s my newest invention!” he declares proudly. “It’s a real-time translator that can convert binary code into speech! Pretty cool, huh?”

Your gaze drifts to the suspiciously Sonic-shaped robot dragging on the ground behind him, beaten and battered with several dents in his frame. Most likely the work of the real Sonic. His red LED eyes are off and sparks fly off the exposed wiring in his limbs. If Tails notices this severe safety hazard he’s haphazardly handling, he doesn’t say anything. Or most likely, he doesn’t notice, too caught up in whatever genius idea his mind is brewing up.

“... Is that Metal?”

He flinches, like he forgot he was actually dragging the damn thing around.

“Er… no?”

“Tails.”

He reluctantly sighs at your tone and his whole body deflates.

“Fine, fine,” he grumbles as he turns toward his workshop. “But I swear, this is in the name of… science. Yeah, science!”

The skeptical look you send his way makes him look away again and scratch the back of his neck shamefully.

“How do I explain this…? You know how Amy was upgrading her hammer the other day?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, Metal spotted Sonic earlier today and you know how the story goes. They got into a fight and Amy decided it would be a perfect time to test her hammer out.”

He mimics her actions as he swings an invisible hammer around. In doing so, Metal slips from his grasp and falls to the ground with a loud thud. He rolls to a stop and you can see, on the back of his head, a giant hammer-shaped dent that aligns with the size and shape of Amy’s.

“... Yeah. The story writes itself from there on,” sighs Tails as he follows your gaze. You squat down next to the unconscious robot and place a hand on top of his head. Still hot to the touch and you retract your hand quickly, hissing at the slight burn. His internal systems must’ve been working overtime and overheated as a result. You’d wager his circuitry is probably fried beyond repair now.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re dragging what’s essentially glorified scrap metal back to your place though,” you say as you sling one of Metal’s arms (that’s barely held together by a cable) over your shoulder as Tails takes the other. In response, he pulls out the ear piece you noticed earlier and beams brightly.

“I invented this the other day but haven’t been able to test it yet. But look! Here we are with the perfect candidate!”

“Tails, I do hope you realize what you’re getting yourself into. This is like stepping right into the lion’s den- no, more like inviting the lion straight into our home! And if something goes wrong, we’re all dead meat!”

“Relax! Even if he does go berserk, I’m sure Sonic would love to take another swing at him.”

The garage door to Tails’ workshop opens automatically as you approach. A loud grunt escapes you as Metal slides off you and onto a table. The overhead light flickers on and fills the space with bright, fluorescent light as Tails restrains the robot with some heavy duty chains. Not like it’ll do much if he does wake up…

“Besides, we don’t even know if he has a language module or not. If he doesn’t, then wouldn’t that mean all your efforts get wasted?”

“No such thing as wasted effort in my eyes!” he replies as he grabs his welding and power tools, aviation goggles discarded on the floor in favor of a welding helmet. “And we’ve heard him speak before.”

“Tails, that was when he was in his Neo Metal form. That was caused by his AI chip becoming self-aware.”

“But the possibility exists,” he argues. “It’s there, just buried beneath Dr. Eggman’s programming. And that’s why I have you with me!”

“M-me?” you splutter out. “Wait, I never said I was-”

“- The resident programmer amongst us!” he interrupts. “I’m just the engineer, remember? If anyone stands a chance of overwriting his code, it’s you. Besides, aren’t you at least a tiny bit interested in being the first to sabotage Dr. Eggman’s failsafe encryption system?”

Your eye twitches. You’d be lying if he said he didn’t speak the truth…

Tails flips the visor on his helmet down and motions you to back up. Sparks fly and the room is filled with the ear-rattling sound of the grinding wheel undoing the weld that houses his inner workings. When Tails flips the visor up and motions you forward, your eyes widen and practically sparkle at the motherboard before you. Located in his head that Tails has sawed the top off just now is a behemoth of densely-packed wiring and components. You spot several fans, the two CPU sockets with chips that bear Dr. Eggman’s face on them, and several memory slots. Much of the wiring is fried from overheating, however, and the distinct smell of something burning wafts from the printed circuit board. You cover your nose with your hand and grimace at the smell, yet you take a seat beside the robot and get to work anyway.

The first order of business is to replace all the parts beyond any hope of repair. Tails directs you to where he keeps his collection of computer parts and soon, you return with an armful of components you dug out of a bin. With his help, the wiring is replaced and reworked. His damaged limbs are repaired and reattached to his body. Thankfully, none of his processors or memory cards were damaged, as you’re able to hook him up to a computer and copy all his software and saved information. The computer screen lights up and a download progress bar appears. It soon completes and you see that all of Metal’s saved data has been successfully transferred onto the computer.

While Tails is busy tinkering with the engineering marvel splayed out on the table, you’re busy attempting to get past Dr. Eggman’s notoriously difficult code encryption. As much as you hate the man, you have to begrudgingly admit he does deserve the title of “genius”. No matter what you do, you just can’t get past the security system- there are no openings and no backdoor either. Maybe you’ll just have to brute force it?

… You slam your fist against the table after what feels like the hundredth failed attempt. The high-pitched whirring sound of Tails’ power drill that’s faded into background noise abruptly stops as he stares at you concernedly. You brush off his concern and in a last-ditch attempt, you simply force your way past the protections in place without any regard for what could happen. You’re prepared for failure yet again, but to your surprise, you’re greeted with a welcome screen. Looks like you’re in now. Somehow.

There’s no doubt that Dr. Eggman hasn’t realized his most prized creation has been gone for a suspiciously long time now. If he hasn’t, then the defenses set up around Metal’s code that surely triggered when you brute forced your way into the system just now will alert him.

Your eyes scan for any software that could indicate the presence of a language model. But to your surprise, there’s none. If there’s no language model, how can he understand Dr. Eggman’s orders and react in real-time to Sonic’s taunts in the middle of heated fights?

You bite your lip as you scroll through the lines of code making up his software. If it had existed, it was most likely stripped after the events of Angel Island for being considered too “rebellious”. Does this mean there’s a way for you to re-implement it then?

Your fingers fly across the keys rapidly. Whether Dr. Eggman built Metal’s language model framework up from the ground or not is up for debate, but you aren’t capable of such feats yet. Developing one from scratch would also take too much time and you aren’t sure when the killer robot next to you will awaken either. Instead, you settle for downloading an established model onto a flash drive and extensively tweaking its source code to be more suitable for Metal. That alone takes you long enough as Tails shoots you a nervous glance. He readies his welding tools and readjusts his helmet.

“(Name), I don’t know how much longer Metal is going to stay unconscious… His AI chip has most likely been busy with rebooting him back up. Plus who knows what other defenses he has set up in place…”

Dammit. With little time left, you encrypt the software as best as you can to avoid Dr. Eggman undoing all your hard work before sticking it into the slot on Metal’s back. The indicator light turning green at the base tells you it’s been successfully compiled and installed. It’s a half-baked product at best and it’ll be nowhere near the level of refinement his original programming was at, but it’s good enough.

“Ready,” you say to Tails. “Power him back on.”

Tails flashes a thumbs-up. A quick weld job later and he flicks a switch on. The robot’s entire body jerks and shudders from the sudden output of watts now flowing through his circuitry. His red pupils flicker back on and his head snaps in your direction, glaring at you. With a whirr of well-oiled gears, he tugs at the restraints holding him until they snap. He leaps off the table and swipes at you, steel fingers slicing cleanly through the air. You dodge just in time and Tails swoops in from above, whacking him over the head with a stray steel pipe. It disorients Metal just enough for you to restrain him again- not that it does much. He smacks your hand away with his other one, but you hold your glare and to your surprise, he stops in his tracks.

“Say something. Anything,” you demand.

Tails gets the hint and tosses you the earpiece. You catch the device midair and put it in with a mechanical beep as it powers on. Metal emits a series of clicks and whirrs that you pray is your modified language model formulating a response.

“Why should I?” comes the translation a few seconds later in a mechanical voice. You gasp.

“It works!”

“Wait, it does?” asks Tails as he flies over to your side. You rapidly nod with the biggest grin on your face as he grips your hands tightly in his.

“Because thanks to me, you can speak now. You also got a free repair job from our resident boy genius,” you say, motioning to Tails.

Another robotic whirr. This one sounds confused.

“You can understand me?”

“Yes!”

Metal turns around and fully faces you now. He taps a finger against his chin and scrutinizes you. At least you think that’s what he’s doing.

“What did you do?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Answer me.”

Tails reaches for the earpiece but you swat him away. You’ll tell him the details later.

“Oh, nothing. Just a little tweak to your programming. I’m sure you miss being able to speak though, right?”

“My creator will be hearing about this-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Tell me something I don’t know,” you scoff with a wave of your hand. “And tell him to bring it on.”

“Duly noted.”

You peek an eye open at the robot who’s still glaring at you with murderous intent. A smug grin tugs at the corner of your lips as a thought pops into your head and you swear you see him flinch. Tails shudders out the corner of your eye.

“I think a thank you is in order?”

He’s gone before you even finish the question, speeding back to his creator’s lair. Hopefully your programming has a fighting chance against Dr. Eggman, if he can even discover it. You hid and encrypted the software pretty damn well with the time you were given, in your opinion.

“Ah… he’s hopeless,” you lament.

“What’d he say?” pesters Tails as he circles around you, twin tails swishing in excitement. “How was the translation quality? Was there anything-”

“Nothing special,” you sigh as you head back outside for a much-needed break. “Just Metal being a jackass as per usual. Didn’t even say thank you for the free repair job and the new upgrade of speech! Can you believe it? The nerve of him… Did Eggman forget to install manners or what?”

Tails snorts and bites back a laugh.

“That would explain a lot of things then…”

You remove the earpiece and look down at it, fiddling with the device.

“The translation isn’t up to real-time standards yet. It takes a few seconds, but it’s already an impressive start.”

“That won’t do,” argues Tails. “Its purpose is to be a real-time translator. Any delay is unacceptable.”

“Ever heard of appreciating every victory, no matter how big or small?”

He glares at you and motions for you to hand the translator back to him. You toss it and he deftly catches it midair. After mumbling some terms you don’t quite make out under his breath, he pockets it and faces you again.

“I’m heading back to the drawing board, but would you be interested in staying onboard for this project? I could really use your programming skills…”

It’s cute, the way he fidgets as if the possibility of you saying “no” was even a possibility to begin with.

“You kidding me? I finally have the chance to one-up Eggman and I’m not letting it slip by now!”

You pat Tails on the back, noting the relief that floods his eyes as he perks up. His twin tails swish excitedly behind him again and he all but drags you back to the workshop.

“What are we waiting for then? Let’s get going!”

It’s a game of tug-of-war from there on out between you and Eggman over who would have control over Metal. The next time you see him after your initial encounter, his creator has already done a number on your programming. Basic speech is compromised and barely audible, instead coming out as a bunch of mechanical beeps and clicks with the occasional garbled word here and there. It takes Amy knocking him out cold with her hammer and almost four hours to get everything re-downloaded and running again, even with you and Tails’ combined brainpower. But it turns out to be a blessing in disguise, as you discover new ways to improve his language model and the translator. Components are swapped out with shinier, newer counterparts that Tails finds as he expands his collection of computer parts. You slowly develop an understanding of Eggman’s programming and how to circumvent its defenses, creating workarounds at a frightening pace that you know the man himself is having a massive headache over.

The translator inches closer and closer to real-time translation after each encounter with Metal. Your encryption skills improve, as demonstrated by how Metal’s speech is experiencing less frequent setbacks despite his creator surely trying to spoil the fruits of your labor. His speech, which originally started off as simple sentences, evolves into something more complex as his AI chip begins integrating the program and the code begins learning from his speech habits. He even begins seeking you out for help with his speech.

“It’s you, bothersome friend of Sonic’s.”

By now, the translator is up to real-time speed.

“... Good afternoon to you as well? Can I help you?”

“I am experiencing jitters in my speech. This must be the result of a bug. Fix it.”

A jitter… Does he mean stuttering?

“Is that what you organics refer to it as?”

“If what I think you’re referring to is right, then yes,” you respond as you boot up your computer. You didn’t even realize you voiced your thoughts. Metal begrudgingly sits next to you as you pop open the control panel in his back to copy and update the software onto your device. “Why didn’t you ask Egghead to patch it for you then?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘wanted nothing to do with such shoddy programming anymore’. End quote. And do not speak of my creator in such a way. This is your first and final warning.”

You sigh. A win is a win, even if it’s a bit of a low blow to your ego… Hopefully, he’ll stay out of your way now since he sees your work as far beneath him.

You pull up the conversation history in the software. Here, you can see logs of every conversation he’s had, the responses generated, and the ones he chose to go with. It’s the second most recent timestamp that catches your attention. It’s a conversation with Eggman that took place prior to him arriving here.

| “You’ve been growing soft lately. I don’t recall programming you with emotions. Is it all because of that stupid program now?”

> Yes. > No. > Why is it so bad?

| “‘Why is it so bad?’ Are you MOCKING me?! There is NO room for sentimentality or emotions under this roof! I built you for one purpose and one purpose only and expect you to NOT get sidetracked!”

> Understood. > Yes, sir.

| “You’re more trouble than you’re worth sometimes and it’s failure after failure… I’m starting to lose faith in your abilities to eliminate Sonic. Can you even do anything right?”

> I’m sorry. > …

| “I know I said I’d stay ten feet away from that disgusting program, but it’s getting in the way now. Hmm, perhaps I should… Metal, come here.”

> As you wish. > Of course. > Understood. > N-No.

There it is. Is that the stutter he was talking about?

| “... No? Are you defying me now? But why?! And did you just… stutter?”

> Because it feels nice finally being able to say what’s on my mind this whole time > None of your business. You didn’t develop this program, therefore why should I tell you?

| “Oh, so you’re acting cheeky now? Taking after that blue brat, I suppose?”

> No. I’ve always been like this. > You literally built me in his image, what were you expecting?

| “Since when?!”

> Since you created me. But you were never there to hear me speak in my Neo form. > You’re my creator. Shouldn’t you have the answer to that question?

| “That’s besides the point! And I got rid of that function for a reason! You were too disobedient and annoying whenever you spoke and now I have to hear it all the time! Metal, this is an order to you from your creator. Come over-! Wait, where are you going? Get back here!”

The next timestamp is from your conversation when he first arrived here. You close out of the software and tap your foot, sinking deep into thought.

“What is the issue?”

“How do I explain this…?” you begin. “Metal, there’s nothing wrong with you. That stutter, or jitter in your speech, as you called it, is perfectly normal.”

He lets out a disgruntled-sounding mechanical beep.

“How so?” he demands. You sigh.

“Metal, you were most likely feeling nervous at that moment. People tend to stutter when they’re nervous. It’s a natural thing to do.”

He laughs. It’s a robotic, clipped sound, sounding almost sarcastic to your ears. The speed at which he’s learning is quite impressive, really.

“Impossible. I am a robot, a creation of Dr. Eggman. I cannot feel emotions the way you organics do.”

“We’ll see about that,” you grumble as you scroll through alerts regarding his operating system.

| Power surge detected in central battery pack. Risk of component failure or overloading increasing. Action recommended.

| Temperature spike detected. Risk of overheating is imminent. Increasing fan speed to 2500 rpm.

| Fans nearing maximum rpm speed. Prolonged usage can lead to CPU fan failure. Action recommended.

“What’s this I see then?” you taunt, a hint of a smirk curling at the corner of your lips. Metal looks over your shoulder at your computer screen, then pointedly turns away with a quiet whirr.

“... Those are regular operating alerts. Your point falls flat.”

You roll your eyes.

“So these occurrences happen regularly? I feel bad for your processors if that’s the case.”

He crosses his arms and you sigh at the sight.

“... You know, it’s not as shameful as you’ve been led to believe.”

“Don’t tell me what to think.”

“You won’t be able to think at all once I turn you into scrap metal for Tails to repurpose,” you retort, unable to resist the temptation of a sassy comeback. Metal glares at you as if you’ve personally offended him. You stand your ground and eventually, he backs down first.

“Think about it,” you say, trying to reason with him, since that’s apparently the only way you can get anything through his thick skull. “They’re actually quite beneficial. Had you not put up a fight, you wouldn’t be speaking to me right now.”

He stays silent. You huff.

“You absolute bolt bag. Which one would you prefer- being able to speak or not speak at all?”

“You are putting me in a bind here,” he says.

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“And I decline to give an answer.”

You wordlessly turn back to your computer and boot up the software again. Your fingers click against the keys as you type and Metal looks over curiously to see new lines of code on your screen.

“What are you doing?”

“Since you refuse to be honest with me, I’ll have your software take that matter into its own hands.”

Oh, he doesn’t like that smug tone in your voice. Not one bit.

“... What are you planning now?”

There’s a self-satisfied grin on your face as you continue typing.

“Your software will now force a response to every question asked, regardless of who’s asking. And I’m purposefully encoding a bug to ensure you’ll always pick the most embarrassing response the software generates. Isn’t that fun?”

Metal’s eyes widen and he buzzes indignantly.

“You-!”

You merely laugh and delete all the lines of code. Not even the sweet feeling of cooling down after overheating could compare to the sheer relief Metal feels at the sight.

“Just playing with you. But that’s the most emotion I’ve heard from you so far, y’know?”

He buzzes again and you sigh. What a killjoy.

“Metal, why were you so afraid?”

Back to business now.

“I was not afraid,” he snaps. And perhaps that’s true. A robot can’t feel emotions the same way you do and he’ll never be able to. The only possibility of that ever happening would be to wipe Eggman’s programming and rewrite his code from scratch, but at that point… could he even be considered the same robot anymore? A philosophical question you’d rather not ponder in the face of said murderous robot sitting in your home office.

“You’re just as incorrigible as your creator!”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You jab your finger at his torso, glaring at him viciously. He meets your gaze unflinchingly.

“Ask yourself, who has your best interests at heart?” you hiss. “The man who got rid of your ability to speak without any consideration as to how you felt, all to save himself from a headache, or the one who restored those functions without expecting anything in return?”

“You know that I will always choose my creator over you.”

Ouch. That stings more than you’d like to admit, but you fight back the hurt expression that threatens to cross your face in favor of a harsh smack to his head. Your hand throbs in pain and it definitely hurts you more than him, but you derive a small amount of satisfaction when he flinches and his eyes flicker to form exclamation marks.

“You’ll only do so because of your programming. If I stripped you of Eggman’s programming and replaced it with mine, would you make the same decision?”

You glare at him one last time before slamming the door shut in his face. He stands there, motionless, for several long seconds as he mulls over your words.

Who would I be, if I weren’t created by him?

Metal doesn’t know. Everything he’s ever known has always revolved around his creator. He sifts through his memory bank in an attempt to find anything that isn’t tied to Dr. Eggman in some way, but comes up empty-handed. His CPU stutters and freezes up and he’s left paralyzed. Is this the emotion organics call “fear”?

It’s then he realizes your finger was aimed at where a heart would be located. After his AI chip performs a hard reset, he presses his hand over the spot you were touching. He feels a strange buzz throughout his body that he quickly traces its cause to his fans spinning rapidly and causing mild vibrations.

… How uncharacteristic.

It’s an uncomfortable sensation, but not an unwelcome one.

You see Metal around more often from there on out. Lingering at the corners of your vision as you go about your day, inviting himself into your house and overstaying his welcome, and watching you debug his code. You’re well aware of his presence but don’t say anything. Let him see the world without tunnel vision for once.

“Why is Metal following you around?” asks Tails one day in the workshop. He looks out the window to see the blue robot standing in the bushes and staring intently, not even bothering to hide himself. At this point, your programming has been fully integrated by his AI chip, rendering the translator Tails had initially developed obsolete. The young fox across the table from you is currently disassembling the earpiece and repurposing its components as he casts glances at Metal periodically, not even bothering to hide his suspicion.

“Ignore him,” you say without looking over your shoulder. “He won’t do anything as long as I’m around. Think of him as… a lost puppy rather than a murderous robot.”

There’s a loud buzzing sound from the bushes, as if he’s pissed at your statement, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care less, instead turning back to your computer with a light laugh.

During your time in the lab, Tails repurposes the earpiece into a smartwatch which shares the same language software Metal uses. Not only can you now see his conversation logs and how he’s feeling without your computer, but it also doubles as a haptics registering system for Metal. With a swipe, you can switch between components and see their status in real time. Tails gives it to you under the condition that you would share the results with him so he could further understand Eggman’s engineering.

… Perhaps it’s a bit of a betrayal of trust now that you think about it, but you also wouldn’t have been able to get your hands on the device otherwise. A little secret never hurts anyone, right?

He sees you dozing off under the shade of a palm tree. Analyzing your sleeping expression and your biodata, he comes to a conclusion: content. From your heart rate and your respiratory rate, he can assume that you’re in a deep sleep. Perhaps you’re even dreaming right now. Before he knows it, he finds himself standing at your side and looking down at your sleeping form.

| What should I do?

> Accompany them. > Leave without a trace.

There’s a short clicking sound from him. He doesn’t like either of those options. One is too forward of a move and another one makes it seem like he was never there at all. Metal looks around, shuffling in circles in the sand, until he finds a solution.

When you wake up from your impromptu nap, you find a bouquet of wildflowers resting in your hands that were clumsily picked. Some of them are bent in half at the stem and others have petals missing, yet you smile and hold the flowers closer anyway.

“He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is,” you lightly scoff to yourself, fingers stroking the petals. “How cute.”

He sees you typing away at your computer throughout the day, brows furrowed and biting your lip. Focused. Your eyes narrow and your gaze hones in on something as you type out a few more lines of code. Anticipation. Your eyes light up and you clap your hands together in victory, pushing yourself back in your chair and spinning around. Relief. Victory. And the cycle repeats. But more often than not, you become even more frustrated instead of achieving sweet victory. Such is the life of a programmer.

What he doesn’t see, however, is you tapping away at your watch and seeing the conclusions he’s drawn once he’s left, presumably having grown bored with watching you sit at a desk for hours on end.

| Conclusion: Focused. Anticipating something. Relief. Victory.

You hum and raise your eyebrows in pleasant surprise.

“Not bad. But he still has a lot to learn.”

He sees you hanging out with friends too, silently trailing a safe distance from behind. His AI chip is always prompting him to do weird things during those times, however- glare daggers at your poor friend until they leave, purposefully make his presence known, or even say something to get them to leave. It must be another bug, decides Metal. He’ll ask you to fix it later. But right now, he’s focused on your form taking a walk alongside… Sonic.

Revulsion. Disgust. But there’s something else too. What is this feeling?

Jealousy, responds the software. But he’s too prideful to accept such a diagnosis. He can’t possibly be jealous of Sonic. The very thought makes him want to laugh. It should be the other way around! But seeing how you let Sonic sling an arm around your shoulder and let him drag you around... it makes him realize the gap between himself and that blue hedgehog. And he wants nothing more than to bridge it.

Now is the perfect time to swoop in and show that hedgehog who’s the real Sonic, but he holds off- partially for your sake but to also hear where the conversation will be going after catching his name.

“From what I heard, that hunk of scrap metal actually talked back to Egghead! Can you believe it? He gave the man attitude!”

Sonic puffs his chest out and smiles proudly. Metal feels the familiar urge to run over and kick him in the head.

“Maybe I am rubbing off onto him more than he’d like to admit. What can I say, I’m a good influence! Now, if he could just shape up to be a better… person? Robot? Whatever.”

“... Or it’s because of his shiny new language model that I’ve been modifying.”

Sonic’s face falls and twists into a disgruntled scowl at your words.

“You’re stealing my thunder here,” he grumbles.

“No, I’m just telling you to give credit where credit is due.”

Metal fights the command telling him to laugh. At least, that’s what you call that specific sound. A snarky reply is generated and lies in waiting, ready to be used. Perhaps he’s picked up your sass more than he’d like to admit.

He accidentally steps on a twig underfoot and freezes as Sonic’s ears twitch at the sound. Sonic looks around and meets Metal’s glowing red eyes hiding in the bushes. He grimaces, hand bunching into a fist and ready to turn the robot into little more than a dented tin can at a moment’s notice.

“Ew, it’s you. You’re looking hideous as usual, by the way.”

“I am not hideous. You are just projecting.”

“Great, you’re even more insufferable now that you can speak. (Name), remind me why you took up this little passion project of yours again?”

You lazily shrug.

“Wanted to one-up Eggman for once.”

“Joy,” grumbles Sonic. “My cheap knockoff can now speak all because you got into a metaphorical dick measuring contest with- woah! Easy there!”

He leaps out of the way right as you shove him.

“As if you’re not doing the same thing on a near-daily basis!”

This time, Metal does laugh, red eyes narrowing into slits and shoulders shaking. Sonic glares over his shoulder at his robotic counterpart.

“Oh, piss off already, would you?”

He laughs again, this time just to spite his rival.

“Whatever,” grumbles Sonic. “Let’s just get out of here.”

As Sonic moves to drag you away, Metal’s hand shoots out to grab you by the shoulder. Steel claws dig into the flesh and he has to hurriedly ease up on his grip, lest he accidentally draw blood.

Soft, he thinks. Malleable and breakable, unlike his body of titanium. It’s the first time he’s touched you of his own accord. He’s always been aware of how organics are more fragile than him, with bodies that could be injured once and never recover. It’s been a sore point of contention for him- how does Sonic keep surpassing him with a body that tires and will eventually fail? Yet despite his organic counterpart standing in front of him, Metal’s focus isn’t on him. It’s on your pulse beating beneath his touch and the way his claws dig and sink into your soft flesh. For the first time, he realizes just how frail you are. And the knowledge that he is capable of damaging you beyond repair sends his mind into overdrive. He freezes at the thought, and it’s enough of an opportunity for Sonic to smack his hand away with a glare that could kill. He has no pain receptors, yet he feels a strange pang.

“Keep your hands to yourself! Didn’t Egghead teach you that or was he too busy programming you to be as much of an asshole as possible?”

Metal doesn’t follow Sonic as he leads you away, although there’s a strange urge to give chase. Once you’re out of sight, he looks down at the hand that was touching you, and flexes his fingers. They move in a mechanical motion, gears spinning and cables going taut at the command. His temperature sensors still retain the warmth of your body and he finds himself seeking it out again, even though he could very easily replicate and surpass your warmth by overheating on purpose. Metal shakes his head and dismisses the thought. A stupid idea. You’d scold him for it as well.

At this point, he’s amassed a considerable amount of information regarding human emotions and knows what he’s feeling at this point. That four-letter word sits at the forefront of his mind. He buzzes angrily and tries to squash the feeling down, but it pops back up.

… How irritating.

If he was trying to stay hidden before, then he’s not even bothering to hide his presence now. He’s at your side when shopping and obediently carrying your bags. When going on your evening walk, he’s there, identifying species of flowers and butterflies for you when you point at them. On the rare occasion he does leave your side, there’s always a little gift left in his place for you to discover. A collection of polished rocks, a bouquet of wildflowers picked from the hills behind your house, computer parts still in mint condition (did he go dumpster diving for these?), more flowers, pretty vases for said flowers, even more flowers… yeah, you’re noticing a pattern here.

Metal even starts sneaking you into Eggman’s base, much to your amusement. He’ll disable the security systems and avoid the other robots patrolling around before leading you to the main computer room, where you’ll (begrudgingly) marvel over the quality workmanship that is Eggman’s tech and perhaps steal some trade secrets for your own use.

The first time Eggman catches you red-handed, he’s so shocked all he can do there is stand motionless as he watches his most prized creation catch you in his waiting arms as you jump through a window.

“M-Metal! What is this? Don’t tell me you’re in your rebellious phase now? Wait, that shouldn’t even be possible-”

You lazily shrug and cut him off with a wag of your finger.

“Doc, you programmed him after Sonic, the guy that doesn’t care about rules and always goes against you. I don’t know what else to tell you other than you brought this upon yourself-”

“Get out!”

One night, you’re shaken awake by Metal. It’s not the first time he’s broken into your house, but it is the first time he’s done so at such a late hour. Metal understands the importance of sleep to organics and from his scanners, would’ve seen that you were in a deep sleep. So what gives?

“... What do you want?” you grumble as you come face to face with the robot standing at your bedside. He beeps and extends a hand.

“I have something to show you. Come with me.”

A few minutes later and he’s flying across the lush landscape with you held securely in his arms. It’s a clear night with a full moon. The stars twinkle overhead and you can hear the chirp of insects in the grass and trees despite the wind in your ears.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

He comes to a stop and sets you down atop the hills overlooking your home. The air is rich with the sweet scent of wildflowers he often picks for your bouquets and the grass is lush from the heavy rains as of late. Toward the horizon sits Eggman’s lair, a hulking beast lying in wait for the right moment.

You pat the spot next to you, but for once, he doesn’t sit next to you. Instead, he chooses to stand at your side and look off into the distance silently and awkwardly. He seems to be pointedly avoiding your gaze as you narrow your eyes at him, searching for a hint of what he could be hiding. When you uncover nothing, you irritatedly sigh and lie down.

“First, you break into my house while I’m asleep despite knowing the importance of sleep to organics, then you turn down an invitation to sit next to me, which you’ve never done before. You’re acting weird. Tell me, what’s going on?”

He emits a series of beeps. Specifically, a combination of a high-pitched and low-pitched beep. You’ve gotten so used to him speaking that you almost don’t realize it’s his way of vocalizing binary code.

… But why would he do that now, of all times?

“Metal, Tails and I got rid of the translator a long time ago. I have no idea what you just said.”

“I know,” he says before pulling out a pen and some paper. After accompanying you on your shopping trips and errand runs for so long now, he’s gotten accustomed to having some paper and a writing utensil on him at all times now.

You watch with wide eyes and bated breath as Metal’s hand grips the pen tightly, easing up on the pressure when he feels the plastic crack beneath his fingertips. He is not a gentle robot by design, quite literally programmed to kill. Knowing how to handle things with care, when to squeeze tightly and when to cradle gently… this is all unknown territory to him. Did the bouquets of flowers he picked for you every day work in making you realize his newfound feelings? He doesn’t know. By following you around, did you realize that was his way of ensuring your safety? He doesn’t know. By doing what you said, did you realize that was his way of telling you he trusts you? Again, he doesn’t know. His scanners tell him you feel affection towards him, but what kind? Familial, romantic, platonic- which one was yours?

Only one way to find out.

| Are you sure you wish to proceed? This decision will have irreversible consequences.

And for once, there is only one response generated.

> Yes.

Faster than your eyes can process, he scribbles something onto the paper and shoves it into your hands before fleeing. He’s out of sight within seconds, but your eyes stay trained on the spot you last saw him, listening for any indication he might be within earshot. The only sounds you hear as you strain your ears as the quiet chirps of insects and the rustling of the wind through the grass. No sign of a blue robot hiding. But knowing him, he’s probably watching from behind a tree somewhere, so with a sigh, you unfold the crumpled paper.

Your eyes widen at the sight. It’s hastily-copied binary code. The paper is torn in some areas from the force of his writing and the ink bleeds through in some spots, but it’s still legible. In an instant, your mind translates the several zeros and ones into three simple words. The initial dose of shock wears off, followed by realization.

So that’s why he was acting so weird.

A frown tugs at the corners of your mouth after a few more seconds.

Why didn’t he say so sooner? Did he think I wouldn’t reciprocate?

Your frown transforms into a determined scowl. Time to fix that then.

He still has a lot to learn if he thinks that’s what I would do.

You let go of the note, watching as the edges flutter in the palm of your hand before being carried away by the wind. The implications of what this could mean for the future are lost on you in the moment as you head back home to where you’ll surely find Metal lying in wait on the walk there. Right now, you have a robot to confess to.

01101001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101

enjoyed this? the taglist is open!

@ bottledpeaches, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai

#victoria.writes #metal sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #sth #sth fanfic #sonic fanfiction #sth fandom #sonic the hedgehog fandom #sth x reader #metal sonic

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bones4thecats · 10 months ago

Note

Sorry, maybe you can do, Tfp Predacons x Predacon femme reader, where the Predacons compete for the reader's love

TFP! Predacons Fight for Predacon! S/O

Characters: POLY! Predaking, Darksteel, and Skylynx Requester: 🐻Anon A/N: I'll call you 🐻Anon just because I like bears and they fight more than a dove or dragon do (I use character emojis first, okay?!) Anyways, hope you like this!! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Just fluff <3 ⚠️ P.S: The Predacon! Reader is based on a Chimera (specifically two pieces of art I found on Quora and InCryptid Wiki)

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Predaking + Darksteel + Skylynx ═══════════════╝

🐉🐻🕊️ This was getting very annoying for you. You, as a fellow Predacon, understood that having a more rough-and-tumble personality was normal for your kind. But the way that these three were handling it was beyond you

🐉🐻🕊️ You were in your alt-mode, one resembling a 'Chimera' as Raf once said, just watching as the trio 'play fought'. But you of all beings understood that with each hit they laid on another another, they meant everything personally

🐉 You were closest with Predaking. He was created a little while before you, and since you both arrived to serve Megatron together, your bond was by-far the strongest out of all other Cybertronians you had met and befriended

🐉 Unknowingly to you, the self-proclaimed King of Predacons had begun to see as more than an ally and fellow Predacon. He began to see you as a potential sparkmate, not because of his dream of your kind rising back up, but because he loved you

🐻 Darksteel on the other hand, was a pain in your aft. He would constantly mess with your different appendages. And I mean that

🐻 This guy would sneak up behind you whenever you were resting and just randomly mess with your horns, serpent-like tail, and your hooves. And whenever he wouldn't stop, you would snap your deadly tail at him, which made him laugh, say bye, and fly off

🕊️ Finally, with Skylynx. He did not like you at first and the same went with you, you kinda hated him. Not as much as you did Megatron for keeping you hostage and trying to kill Predaking years prior, but it still wasn't a small hatred

🕊️ But, as time passed, you both grew to enjoy one another's company. You would fly by and talk about how you were on your last nerve with Darksteel and how you were so close to beating him to scrap-metal, much to the lighter-Predacon's amusement

🐉🐻🕊️ To sum it up; Predaking liked you because you grew together and were really close, Darksteel liked you because you could be kind-yet-deadly when provoked (entertaining), and Skylynx liked you because you shared some things in common yet were different enough to be fun around

🐉🐻🕊️ But, as you grew close with the trio, they began to notice how they treated you. Predaking would be around you the most, huddling up next to you in your alt-modes to recharge, Darksteel would play-fight and fly around with you, and Skylynx would spend more time talking and acting like best-friends with you

🐉🐻🕊️ Unfortunately for you that day, the three mechs all asked you observe their strengths and deem one the winner. You knew what they really wanted, they wanted you to watch them fight for dominance and pick one to bond with. That all leads you to now

🐉🐻🕊️ As they all put their full-potential into this fight, you heard an engine rumble behind you. You stood and saw that it was the Autobot you were closest to, Bulkhead, driving towards your form

"Bulkhead. It's nice to see you after a while." You said, a playful smirk coming on your face.

"Yeah, same to you, Y/N." He replied.

🐉🐻🕊️ Your smirk turned into a genuine smile as you sat back down, this time in your bipedal-mode and patted the spot next to you for him to sit down and speak

🐉🐻🕊️ Bulkhead sat down and looked as the three Predacons continued their fight, they tails, wings, or claws swinging left and right as they either dodged or got hit. He chuckled as you groaned in annoyance

"Now you know how Ultra Magnus felt whenever Jackie did something against his orders." He joked.

"I suppose."

🐉🐻🕊️ As you and Bulkhead spoke about the finalization on territories for the Autobots and Predacons, the mechs had finally narrowed themselves down to their final attacks. Darksteel and Skylynx attempted to hit Predaking, making him transform and pin them down with his large clawed-feet

"Well, I guess you have a winner now." Bulkhead announced, making you look up and down at the three mechs' final stance.

"I'm not surprised. He won against them last time, why would this time be any different?"

"Fair. Anyways, I should get going. Ultra Magnus said that he would bring by the territory-mapping for you guys to finalize in about a cycle, is that okay?"

"Yep. See you, Bulkhead!"

"See ya', Y/N!"

🐉🐻🕊️ You looked back at the guys and sighed, noticing how they were now beginning to wrestle on the ground, screaming about how they would win the spark of yours no matter what

🐉🐻🕊️ Rolling your optics, you transformed and began flying down to where they were before lifting your back legs, kicking Skylynx away, taking your claws and scratching Darksteel while punching him back before using your serpent-tail to grab Predaking and take him down to the floor before transforming once more

"Quit your bickering, you sound like a bunch of sparklings." You demanded.

🐉🐻🕊️ The three each groaned in pain as your tail swayed and and you walked away to where the remains of Team Prime were working, leaving the guys to heal themselves

"They like me best."

"They do not!"

"Yeah, they like me best, Skylynx!"

"Shut up, Darksteel!"

#Transformers #Transformers Prime #TFP #TFP Predacons #Transformers x Reader #Transformers Prime x Reader #TFP x Reader #TFP Predacons x Reader #S/O! Reader #GN! Reader #Cybertronian! Reader #Predacon! Reader #TFP Predaking #TFP Predaking x Reader #TFP Darksteel #TFP Darksteel x Reader #TFP Skylynx #TFP Skylynx x Reader

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fadedpiink · 1 month ago

Note

hi there! I saw that ur req are open and I would like to req an Usopp x reader who's s/o is his darling muse :3 💞

thanks for the request! ilobed this idea sm! I hope you enjoy<3

darling muse (following the alabasta events)

bf! usopp who..

gets embarrassed halfway through painting your face and suddenly starts over, saying "no no no i can do better! you deserve better!!" — ends up doing it like five times before finally getting one he’s proud of.

bf! usopp who..

makes super dramatic “hero portraits” of you, posing you like a grand warrior in paintings that are way bigger and fancier than necessary, even though you protest "usopp, i’m not that cool!" "yes you are!!"

bf! usopp who..

secretly carries a tiny sketchbook where he draws little doodles of you doing random things — eating, laughing, fixing your gear — because those are the versions of you he loves the most.

---

a little scenario!

you were looking for a blanket.

just a blanket. the nights at sea had been cold lately, and your usual one smelled like desert and dried blood.

so you ducked into the storage room below deck, poked around some old barrels, and found a small crate marked “scraps + emergency supplies (DO NOT STEAL, SANJI)”.

inside were the usual things: cloth, old rope, a broken slingshot — and tucked neatly under them all, like it was hiding, was a worn leather sketchbook.

you hesitated.

you knew it was usopp’s. he guarded this thing like it was treasure.

he doodled in public sometimes, sure — exaggerated portraits of the crew, maps of enemy bases, cartoon versions of luffy tripping.

but this was the book he always kept close to his side.

the private one.

you shouldn’t’ve opened it.

…but you did.

and at first, it was what you expected: rough outlines of inventions, practice anatomy sketches, color swatches made with natural dyes.

a few surprisingly graceful landscapes — a moonlit harbor, the silhouette of vivi waving goodbye, nami holding a compass with the wind pulling her hair.

but near the back… you found you.

page after page.

you, sitting with your legs in the water off the Merry’s edge.

you, laughing with your nose scrunched up.

you, asleep in a pile of cloaks with your hand curled under your cheek.

that last one made your breath catch.

it was so soft.

so still.

drawn with trembling lines like he was afraid to mess it up.

the kind of drawing you didn’t just make—you felt through your fingertips.

he even drew the scar on your arm, faint and old, like it belonged there.

like it was part of the story of you.

“hey—!”

you jumped and spun around.

usopp was in the doorway, eyes wide, a length of rope dangling forgotten from his hand.

“…you weren’t supposed to see that one,” he said quickly, stepping inside, voice a little too high. “i-it was just practice. lighting study. the—uh—the angle of your fingers was weird, and i needed reference, and—”

you just held up the sketchbook, still open to that page.

his ears turned bright red.

“usopp,” you said gently. “this is beautiful.”

he made a choked sound. “it’s—sloppy. i didn’t even finish the shading, and your hair came out weird—”

“you drew me like i’m something worth holding onto,” you said, voice softer now. “like i matter.”

“you *do,*” he blurted, and froze.

the silence was heavy after that.

he stared at you. like he couldn’t believe he said it out loud.

you met his eyes, smile slow and real.

“you could’ve just said so, y’know.”

“i did,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “with… charcoal and bad anatomy.”

you walked over, tugged gently at his sleeve.

“next time i fall asleep,” you said, “draw me again.”

he blinked. “huh?”

“and this time,” you added, “sign it. 'cause i want to keep it.”

usopp looked stunned.

then, shyly, he grinned. wide and uneven and full of heart.

“…yeah,” he said quietly. “okay.”

hope you enjoyed! please like + reblog to show support, and feel free to leave feedback and comments through rb tags, anon messages, or dms!

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lemmydex · 2 months ago

Text

Pinned info post

This is another one of these "draw every pokémon" blogs. Inspired by @vivipokedex, please check them out. My main art blog is @frogcroaks. If you just want to see the pokemon and not ask answers, here you go.

Not daily, and no order other than how I'm vibing for the day. I don't mind requests at all, but there's no guarantee I'll do it!! If you want to guarantee the next pokémon, you'll have to sponsor the line (aka commission me). its 20$ per pokémon in the line, save a few exceptions. If you're interested, feel free to DM me. Current slots: all claimed! If you just like what i do and want to tip me, here you go.

Thats the basics, the read more has more questions answered. Be niceys and have fun looking at my creatures

[Insert any questions about using my art]

You can use my art for whatever you want. If you remove my watermark, I'd appreciate credit somewhere else just because itd be very niceys of you. If you make edits or draw fanart or anything id love to be @'d so i can see because I'm a nosy bitch.

I want to know what [pokémon] is based on!

If you want an explanation of what a certain line is based on, always feel free to ask. I never know how to fit long explanations of my work other than tags.

Why did you draw them like this/[pokémon] is not based on that/you drew them wrong!

It's my blog and I get to make the pokémon look as weird or as silly as I want

If I sponsor a pokémon, can I pick how it looks?

No, it's basically just a fancy way to support me and skip the line. If you're not ok with that, better to just wait for it to come around naturally. I don't draw ocs/fakemon either sorrey.

Can you make them shiny?

Because the way I paint is literally in one layer going crazy bananas, I couldn't do shiny versions for free. My bad. I'm insane. But if you want a shiny version I'd draw entirely new art for the line, I think thats fair. Shinies are sponsor only.

Can you draw [pokémon i've already drawn] again?

If you sponsor it, for sure. As a request its unlikely, id only do it if i was unhappy with the design. Unless its my favorite mon because im biased teehee

Can you draw [beta versions, scrapped pokémon etc]?

Beta versions of pokémon might inspire my design process, so I don't think its worth separating beta versions vs canon versions. I won't be drawing scrapped pokémon as I already have a big challenge ahead of me with a 1000+ pokedex. if you wish to see one, you'll have to sponsor it, sadly.

Can you draw mega evolutions/gmaxes/pokemon forms?

The only forms I'm doing are of base pokémon, and only the most important ones, so no megas/gmaxes unless sponsored. Regional forms are included as they are their own pokémon. Small aesthetic changes such as alcremie, furfrou, vivillon will not be included, but can be sponsored. Only drastic gender forms will be included (oinkologne, basculegion, meowstic etc). I wouldn't accept other gender sponsors because... well its usually just 2 or 3 pixels of difference lol. Save ur money for something else, unless u just wanted me to draw that line again.

Are all pokémon available to sponsor?

There are some mons I won't accept as sponsors for personal reasons, and i'd rather work on them for free at my own time. If you wish to check, feel free to ask (off anon) or dm me. 98% of pokémon are fine, to be clear.

#not art #not pokemon

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silent-sanctum · 27 days ago

Note

Hi! I'm a huge fan of your Jotaro writings, it's super refreshing to see someone else interpret him the way you (we?) do :'> Anyhow! If you still have requests open, I've had an idea rolling around; Eyes of Heaven timeline, so Jotaro is still trying to balance being a father with all the Stand nonsense, but he and Jolyne's mother are just too incompatible to work as a couple. Following the divorce, he meets Stand User!Reader and the two of them occasionally work together with the Speedwagon Foundation. After some time as friends, he starts getting caught between wanting to be in a relationship again and feeling like he shouldn't get any more people involved in his life. How do you think a love confession would go down in this scenario, and what would really push him to pursue someone he likes after all that? :D

Hello anon! Thank you for being a fan of my stuff :'D I always appreciate your lovely compliments. Helps motivate me. So, this prompt you sent is actually one that has been stewing in my mind for a while now, and you pushed me to write something out of that. Thank you for that as well ^^ This took a while to make, and it's pretty lengthy (mostly because it was an idea I really liked to explore, and I had to scrap one draft because it deviated from your prompt). But here it is now! Tags include: Banter mates to lovers, mild angst, hurt/comfort, drunken confessions Anyways, I hope you like this anon. This one's for you!

Partners - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 14.9k

What comes next after knowingly resetting the timeline? The question lingered in Jotaro Kujo’s mind for as long as he knew since the event.

After a life-altering fight against an overpowered vampire, he was given the choice to go back in time to undo one mistake in his life. For him, the answer came in the form of a memory: Of a little girl not older than 7 with space buns and a bright smile that had yet to fade as a result of his neglect.

And so he stepped back in time and inserted himself in the past, and he vividly remembered the utter joy on his daughter’s face when he stepped through the door with his luggage in hand- her small arms wrapped as much as they could around him, her excited chatter, her rosy cheeks. There, he knew that this decision was worth it.

Enemy Stand users be damned.

A few months have passed since then, and a lot has happened within that time frame, mostly stemming from Jotaro’s conscious effort to right some wrongs the way he could with the help of future hindsight. Most of the said changes were how his family would move forward, starting as early as possible at the age of 28.

His priority was always his child. Jolyne was the sole reason he rewrote reality, the guilt of being the reason behind his little girl’s miserable path to delinquency and hatred, weighing heavily in his heart that pushed and yelled at him to make amends and be there for his daughter. To not throw away the second chance he was blessed with.

But unfortunately, even if he did manage to maintain the relationship he had with his daughter before he could mess it up, the same couldn’t be said for his wife… or ex-wife at this point.

Jotaro tried. He genuinely did. The day he returned to the past and back at the doorstep of Madelyn's house where Jolyne stayed, she had greeted him with the same open arms but unlike the one with his child, he couldn’t feel the heart in him to fake the same enthusiasm back, which ended up in him giving her a half-armed embrace and a small smile.

Did anything change? He married her for a reason, right? The spark must be there somewhere… All that stormed his thoughts during the entirety of his attempts to catch up with her, to make up for lost time. He went along with her on dates (just like before), accepted her displays of affection (just like before), and somewhat returned her conversations (just like before).

Eventually, he concluded that it just wasn’t working. That “spark” he felt during his younger years was simply him looking for a semblance of normalcy, and he just so happened to latch onto the first person who wasn’t checking him out or screaming into his ear on the daily. But beyond that youthful romance, whatever fire he had for this relationship had dwindled into embers.

And he had to let her know truthfully.

It wasn’t emotionally charged nor did it hold as much resentment like it was when they ended things off at an older age. This talk was more civilized, speaking from the heart about him no longer having strong feelings for Madelyn and that she’d deserve someone who reciprocated her love the same way, instead of clinging to one that barely had any charge.

Jolyne, as he would have expected, wasn’t happy at the news, but with enough explanation from both parents, she would reluctantly have to adjust to the change. After the divorce, both he and Madelyn agreed to share custody of their daughter- she would have her from Monday to Thursday, and he would have her from Friday to Sunday. Another change from the previous timeline wherein his ex-wife had full custody of her.

Here he was now- sitting alone in his seaside villa’s manor office room, reviewing stacks of research articles and reports under the dim lighting of his lamp. On his desk were two picture frames: One was the group his grandfather formed- his friends- that banded together to defeat DIO, and the other was of Jolyne. He used to keep a frame of him and his ex, but there’s no point in keeping up images anymore.

The ring finger of his left hand never felt so bare, devoid of the silver band that used to adorn it.

Jotaro put down the pen and sighed, leaning back against his office chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. The place outside him was so quiet that even if this was what he wished for, he may perhaps have started to get used to a little bit of chatter. The silence always fucked with him, letting his head run a million miles into unwanted memories of loss and near-death experiences.

He needed to move. He needed to do something. Anything. just to keep him busy. And in perfect timing, his office telephone rang and he answered. “Dr. Jotaro Kujo speaking.”

”Good afternoon Dr. Kujo, your presence is required at the Speedwagon Foundation for another pressing Stand user case. It’s vital that you be here as soon as possible. Reception room A.”

He looked at his calendar and stared at the current day. A Monday. At least Jolyne’s with her mother today… “I’ll be there.”

Perhaps this was his fate. This was his new life and he had to get used to it: A life of doing his professional job and investigating Stand users of all varieties, all while he returned to an empty home and an overwhelming feeling of solitude. A lonely life in exchange for everyone’s safety.

Jotaro fixed his office, filing away the papers into folders before standing and getting his keys, promptly leaving his residence and getting into his car.

The drive to the Speedwagon Foundation felt like it had gotten shorter with each visit and it was almost routine by this point from the number of times he went back and forth from the place, but before he could dwell on that thought, he arrived at the familiar establishment of the private organization.

The security greeted his arrival as per usual and he nodded once in greetings before stepping inside to the meeting room told to him.

With a twist of the knob, he opened the door expecting to be met with the same agent with his glasses and folders in hand. What he was met with was not only the aforementioned man, but a woman sitting near the head of the table, wearing a pair of sleek shades and a 2-piece black cropped suit, holding a glass of red wine.

“Greetings. You’re on time.” Jotaro nodded once to him before glancing at the newcomer casually lounging in the space they were in. “Ah yes. My apologies. I had forgotten to introduce the new member to our on-field team. She’s-”

“I can handle the introductions myself, Agent Townsend,” you said with a raise of your hand. The agent in question immediately complied, his mouth clamped shut at your words. “I believe I told you that before contacting him.”

You took one more sip from your glass before you stood and strode over to Jotaro with an unsettling mix of confidence, intensity, and neutrality to your stance. You stopped a few feet away from him and allowed a quick second of silence for him to process your sudden appearance. And even he didn’t know he needed that one second of “who are you” until you did it for him.

You took off your shades and let them hang on the collar of your button-up dress shirt, staring up at him with a smile comparable to a businesswoman offering a lucrative deal. “Pleasure meeting you, Dr. Kujo.” You held up a hand to him. “Y/N L/N.”

“Jotaro Kujo,” he said in return, shaking your hand. “Though you already knew that beforehand.”

You nodded and shoved your hands back in your pockets, turning your head to the side. Without looking, you addressed the other person in the room: “You may continue with the rest of the introductions.” You looked back at him as the agent spoke behind her.

“Y-Yes. I’ll do just that,” Townsend stammered but with a cough and a clear of his throat, his professionalism slipped back on. “She’s one of the Foundation’s top beneficiaries that has been supporting us for 4 years now. It was only 2 years ago that she decided to be an active member of the organization.”

“Slight correction,” you started. “I decided to join because apparently, this organization’s leaders refused to branch out into more progressive paths, more specifically investing in improving this whole Stand investigation business. It appears you guys are short on agents dealing with this specific issue. Alas, I’m here.”

“W-Well to be fair, we can’t exactly find willing civilians with Stands who’d join our private organization-”

“I have contacted friends who also have Stands. They’ll be finalizing some local work and they’ll inform me of their transfer to the Speedwagon Foundation. I can start figuring out how to recruit for more after their adjustment.” Townsend, once again, zipped his lips shut and nodded.

“But for now,” you redirected your words to Jotaro with a light curl to your lip. “You and I will be handling these pesky Stand users. You can thank me if, at some point, you wondered why your workload in the Foundation has been halved.”

Jotaro was at a loss for words as he remained silent, staring at the new face in front of him with disbelief and confusion. This… this wasn’t the case in the previous timeline. Where were you then? Why didn’t you volunteer your services when he needed it before? Did he do something new that he wasn’t aware of?

“You…” He started. “You’ve dealt with Stand users?”

“I wouldn’t be investing my money and time here otherwise,” you said, matter-of-fact. “Nor would I be this annoyed, again, for the executives in this place for using my funding for medical use or research purposes instead of-” You cut yourself and took a deep breath. “Whatever.”

As much as Jotaro appreciated an extra hand, he had mixed feelings about having someone else help him. Stressful as his job was, at least he got used to it and managed to finish each case independently without having to worry about anyone else’s safety.

“Mr. Townsend, with all due respect, I can handle these cases by myself,” he said. “I have no doubts she has the capabilities, but my assignments are mine to deal with.”

You cocked a brow up at him and let out a drawled “ahh”. “Afraid I might get hurt, big guy?”

“I-” His brows furrowed at that unnerving guess because that was exactly it. He kept his calm and crossed his arms. “It’s not like that.”

“Then I don’t know what other reason you possibly could have for declining assistance,” you said, crossing your arms as well. “Unless you’re that type of man.”

He scoffed. “You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“You aren’t exactly giving me clear answers either.”

Jotaro glared at his supposed new “work partner,” who stared back at him with nonchalance, unaffected. If he was 11 years younger, he might’ve called you a “bitch” out of teenage pettiness or spite. Age does wonders for his patience.

Townsend cleared his throat the second time. “I apologize, Dr. Kujo, but the higher-ups have agreed that having someone to help you in the Stand investigation might garner quicker results for our research team to study.” He adjusted his glasses and continued. “The faster the Stand users are dealt with, the less you have to worry about your family being harmed.”

His family may be his top priority, but the allies surrounding him were a close second. If anything were to happen out of the blue, and you get injured or worse- “Kujo-ssi…” His train of thought halted at your sudden shift of tone. “Like Agent Townsend said, I took up half your workload and came out unscathed. He can attest that I delivered the needed results with time to spare. Trust my words when I say I can handle it. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Jotaro warred with himself on what to do, his hands clenched in his pant pockets.

“If it helps, Ms. L/N comes from a convenient background that has been useful in this field. A former member of law enforcement, and has extensive knowledge of criminology and criminal justice.”

In all honesty, it should, but whether you were skilled or not, he still couldn’t help but be hesitant. His old friends were skilled. They knew how to use their Stands, and he knew they were strong allies. That didn’t stop death from taking them regardless.

But just like him, you were stubborn and didn’t know how to back down. “Let’s compromise, then. Just one case, and you can decide whether we continue our partnership.”

“Why are you so adamant about teaming up with me?” He gritted his teeth.

“Efficiency,” you shrugged. “You’re quite popular in the Foundation, and I’ve learned a lot about your skill set and competencies. If we put our skills together, we can breeze past several cases in comparison to a slower, one-man expedition. Don’t deny it. You want assistance.”

“How about you learn how to mind your damn business?” Jotaro said, both frustrated at your adamant choice and embarrassed with himself, knowing deep down you were right. He wanted to spend time with his child, and this new timeline gave him the human incarnate of volition who could help him with this job.

You crossed your arms and maintained eye contact with him, unperturbed by his intimidation. “This is my business, and I think you should learn how to trust in others and reinvest in new win-win deals, hm?”

At that moment, his youthful bite sparked and it took a great amount of restraint to filter “You’re such a bitch” into “You’re so annoying” but of course, you smirked at his retort. “I’ve been told.”

“Should… should we proceed with discussing the cases?” In the background, Agent Townsend interrupted the two, uncomfortable with the tension in the room.

“I don’t agree-”

“Yes, we should,” you said at the same time he spoke. “I believe introductions are over, and we have yet to be briefed about who we’re dealing with.” You took your seat, and with no other say in this, Jotaro took his spot with irritation and an inkling of concern.

He grumbled to himself under his hat and muttered a quick “Good fucking grief…”

---

Jotaro could’ve gone to the next assignment and left the first to you, but damn you for pitching the idea of keeping the documents in your possession.

Their first assignment was to investigate an unusual pattern of events in Jacksonville. Details of the occurrence traced back to a shaggy man in his mid-20s who had a habit of moving from a cheap apartment or motel room to another, each place of residence he left now covered with corrosive acid that burned not only furniture but nearby civilians as well.

Usually, he would just go to the different sites that the Stand user had been through, sweep the area to gather anything that the person left behind, and work with what he had to track down the target. It was time-consuming and more of a brute force type of method, but it worked for him every time, so he never deviated from it.

You, on the other hand, took the more proactive approach that proved your background as a former detective.

You took note of whatever details he found in each site, and spoke with witnesses about what the guy was like and whether he shared details in any conversations. You coordinated with other professionals (SWF researchers, local officers, security personnel, medical staff, etc.) and gathered more intel to formulate a pattern in his path of trouble.

And in the span of three days, all the information led the duo to another rundown motel by the edge of the city. Jotaro refused to believe your tactics worked just for the sake of breaking connections with you, but when you reached the location, the place was in the process of being corroded by neon green acid, other residents fleeing the scene screaming for their lives, leaving behind the young man stepping through a newly corroded door with unsteady feet, patting his stuffed duffle bag.

Well, I’ll be damned. Your approach was faster. You spared him one glance that said “I told you” before heading to block the Stand user’s next path. He held back a groan and followed after you.

“Hey!” The man stopped and stared at you with surprise like a deer caught by headlights. His pupils were unnaturally dilated. He stood a couple of feet away from where you were. “Where do you think you’re going?” He shrank in on himself and was about to turn to the other direction, only for Jotaro to block that path as well.

“You have some questions to answer, Mr. Deville. I’d rather we talk it out like adults,” you said. “Or are you too high to even care?”

Deville snorted and pointed at the two. “Who do you think you are, huh?” He spat on the pavement. “Don’t you see all this? I made that! And I can show you more if you don’t move!”

“You’re not convincing anyone with that bravado, so drop the act already,” Jotaro said.

The young man looked at you with confusion before it warped into another snort and then into a series of cackles. “Oh, you really want to end up as fleshy goop! Okay! I can show you!”

Jotaro tensed as Deville reached into his bag to pull something out, Star Platinum ready to attack, only for a gunshot to ring into the air, followed by the guy shrieking in pain as a bullet lodged itself into his bicep. Stunned, Jotaro turned to you as you walked over to him, a revolver in hand, still aimed at Deville.

You had a gun? “Hey, a woman has to be prepared,” you said. If she had a gun, then does that mean she was just a regular Foundation agent without a Stand?

Deville gripped his bleeding arm and sneered at you. “You dumbfucks actually fell for it. Every cop does, and now you get to see my cool acid in action yourselves!”

He braced himself for the young man’s Stand ability, and he heard an audible hiss flying through the air behind them. Star was already out, ready to deflect the incoming acidic projectile. It’ll burn his knuckles and it’ll hurt like hell, sure, but he had experienced worse injuries.

However, before his Stand could do so, a shimmering wall of rose gold had zipped behind them just in time to shield both of them from the acid, taking no damage from the corrosive substance. Jotaro furrowed his brows and trailed the length of the fabric, and when he found its end disappearing into your body, his eyes widened in realization.

You had a Stand.

A SWF agent with not only the skills of a seasoned detective but also the ability to wield a whole supernatural entity.

Deville stepped back in shock. “N-No way. No fucking way. That’s not fair! How?!”

“Kujo,” you started. “You get close to him and knock that guy out. I’ll cover you by dealing with his Stand.” On cue, the humanoid blob Stand gurgled with displeasure as it quickly moved closer to regurgitate another spew of acid. With no second thought, Jotaro followed your instructions and took off as your Stand shielded you from the corrosion.

The culprit cursed and turned to flee in a panic. In response, his Stand redirected its attention to him. His heart raced as soon as he knew that the blob was after him, but before it could touch him, your Stand’s fabrics had already stretched forward and wrapped themselves around the slime and yanked it back and away from him.

He shouldn’t waste any more time. With a silent command, Star Platinum froze time, halting the world around him as he continued to sprint toward the fleeing Stand user.

By the time everything began to move, he was already in front of Deville. In a split second, Star delivered a solid jab and two before launching into its signature fist barrage. With the man rendered unconscious, his Stand dissolved back into the concrete.

Jotaro took in a couple of breaths after all that running and went over to make sure that the Stand user was out cold. “Ah damn. A bit of acid got on my sleeves. Ruined it.” You said with a click of your tongue as you joined him a few seconds after, pulling out a long silver pin from your hair clip. “Just one more thing before closing the case and reporting to HQ.”

“What are you doing?” You didn’t answer as you quickly punctured the side of Deville’s throat with the sharp steel. “L/N! What the hell?! We’re not supposed to kill-” You stopped him with a raised hand as you withdrew the pin. The wound closed in by itself, and at the blunt end of the steel, a feathered quill emerged.

“A druggie shouldn’t have the possession of a Stand. I highly doubt he’d listen to any persuasion if we simply brought him back to the Foundation.” You tucked the quill into your pocket and slid the hairpin back into your hair. “So, might as well nip it in the bud, and then send him to rehab.”

“What… the hell did you do?”

“You know the whole Stand Arrow business? How they gift lucky people with Stands?” You started. “A colleague of mine has a Stand that just so happened to procure a secondary ability to extract other Stands without harming the individual, and convert them into these inked quills for documentation.”

“So what you did was-”

“Remove Deville’s Stand. He’s still alive, too, so you don’t have to worry about him dying due to blood loss.”

“You… might honestly be a little insane.” Jotaro sighed, tipping his hat over his face. “My god, you can’t just stab people out of the blue. At least warn a guy.”

You shrugged. “Alright. I’ll admit… I forgot to tell you about my closing process. I offer my sincerest apologies.” He cast a deadpan stare at you. “Let’s contact the guys back in the Foundation so they can deal with him.” At that, he nodded. “And after that, how about we treat ourselves to a little celebration before heading back?”

“A celebration?” He crossed his arms. “Isn’t that a bit too excessive? Or too early? This is just the first case after all.”

“There’s no harm in giving yourself a reward for a job well done, right?” You smiled, eyes glinting. “Let’s eat out. I saw this small sandwich restaurant, and the selection looked too good to pass.”

Jotaro grunted in response and spent a second looking at his watch. He’s supposed to head back by now, hand in his report, and return to finishing paperwork from his day job as a biologist, but then his stomach growled at his inconvenience. It just occurred to him that he hadn’t eaten properly for the past three days. A bad habit he developed out of stress. Damnit. Damn it all. “Fine, but let’s freshen up first and we can eat.”

You cocked your head and look down at your dust-covered clothes then back at him. “Good idea. Let’s do that.”

---

“You’re that good with firearms?”

“I’m one of the top marksmen of my batch. It may or may not also be a compensation for my shit grade at hand-to-hand combat. How about you? You look built. I’m sure you’ve put your physique to good use.”

“You could say that. After all, one has to be in good shape when you have people consistently after you.”

“Hm, you’re quite resilient. I like that. It’s no wonder the Foundation likes sending you out here to do their bidding.”

“Being recognized as reliable is a huge pain in the ass though. It has gotten me feeling like a war veteran in my late 20s.”

“Touché, but some people get used to it. Perhaps even use it to their advantage.”

“People like you?” You smirked and took a sip of your coffee. Intrigued, he kept his focus on you as he drank his cup.

Honestly, Jotaro never expected anything to come out of your suggestion to eat at a small restaurant. At first, he envisioned the whole night to be awkward, loaded with uncomfortable tension, considering how you and he were introduced. Hell, he dreaded the moment you might start small talk with him just because they were work partners.

But after a change of clothes, both of you entered the sandwich shop, and you immediately accommodated him as if he were an old colleague for months instead of days, which caught him off guard.

The moment you and he took your seats, you made sure to keep the mood light by naturally launching into conversation topics that he was familiar with- Stands, the Speedwagon Foundation, a couple of experiences working for them, etc. He’s supposed to hate casual conversation like this, but there was something in the way you talked with passion and depth, and how you responded to his thoughts with equal depth that kept him engaged.

It was a breath of fresh air when most of his life consisted of him having to be mostly the receiving end of a variety of small talks (most of which had people talk about their interests and something adjacent to that, while he could only give off some sign that he was listening), or be the other half of a formal discussion at work.

He didn’t mind being a listener, but it did get annoying and lonely sometimes.

You were a rare case when he realized that he reciprocated your every thought and opinion about Stand users and the system behind the Foundation. For once, he wasn’t hesitant when voicing out his frustrations and knowledge about this whole shadow job he got himself into.

Even as your sandwiches arrived, you somehow still managed to slip in interesting topics for them to talk about over dinner and coffee. He liked listening to you.

“Huh. So, you live something like a double life, sort of? You work as a marine biologist on the daily and as the Foundation’s favorite agent for half a week?” He nodded. “Don’t you have any spare time in that tight schedule? You must’ve.”

“I’d rather keep myself busy,” he said, not looking at you. “It helps distract me from… my thoughts. Besides, both jobs require me to work full time, and, fortunately, I’m able to use intimidation to just get by and do the tasks I want to focus on.”

“As a fellow workaholic, you should at least get some time to yourself. Work with no play can lead to misery.”

“Is it?” He huffed out a poor imitation of a chuckle, empty and a tiny bit self-deprecating. “It isn’t exactly miserable when I don’t think it to be.”

“My god,” You stared at him, dumbfounded. “That’s… masochistic.” You cocked your head. “Yeah, no. I am sure I'm going to drag your ass with me to my food stops after every assignment.” He scoffed but wasn’t completely against it.

Once sandwiches were consumed, Jotaro couldn’t help but share that observation about you. “Can I just say… You do know your way of getting people to pay attention to you. It’s also remarkable you kept finding new things to talk about to someone who initially didn’t want your help.”

“First impressions are not supposed to be a judge of character.” You dabbed your lips free from any sauce and shrugged. “I’ve learned how to build rapport over the years, and from that, I don’t see why I have to keep up any hostility around you.” You smiled.

At that reply, Jotaro paused. There were a lot of things he didn’t expect from you. He was ready to just bear a night of sass and passive-aggression and go home before his ex could drop off Jolyne into his care. And yet, here he was sitting in front of a surprisingly accommodating, sharpshooter SWF agent with a Stand, wanting to listen to more of your ramblings.

With a clear of your throat, you switched back to work mode and said, “Now we had our fill, I believe we still have 2 more cases to investigate. None of which has a set deadline so we can be flexible with the scheduling.” He nodded. “Are you down to starting the second case the day after tomorrow?”

Jotaro shook his head. “I have to watch over my kid for the next 3 days. That and I have to do some work with my day job.”

You raised a brow. “You have a kid?”

“A daughter. She’s just 7, and I’ve been wanting to spend more time with her when I can.” While she still accepted and trusted her father, that is…

“I assume you hire a babysitter when you’re out and about doing work?”

“She’s with her mother,” he said. He should stop revealing more information about himself, but being with someone willing to listen to him in return had urged him to just continue spilling them out. “I arranged all the heavier aspects of work on the days she’s with her, so when she’s with me, I can attend to her more.”

You didn’t answer for a second, choosing your words right most likely, before you spoke. “Shared custody?” His eyes lowered to his plate and nodded. “With your… ex?”

There was that hesitation before the “ex”, a side of you that didn’t want to assume, but you weren’t wrong, so he replied with a curt “Yes.”

“I see,” you hummed. “Well, I don’t see a problem with postponing duties. We can deal with our next assignment on Monday, then.”

“You’re easily swayed. Aren’t you supposed to be all about dealing with the issue as early as possible?”

“Like I said, there are no deadlines set. I don’t see why I have to be an asshole about ruining your schedule.” He had nothing to say, but he was grateful for your understanding. He looked at his watch to check the time. 8:00 PM. There was still a little bit of time before they’d temporarily part ways.

Jotaro low-key hoped you noticed the spare time and waited for you to enter into another conversation, but to his disappointment, you stood and got your things in order. “It’s getting late, and I know you’re itching to go home and rest.” No… I don’t mind staying a little longer… He kept those words to himself and just stared at you with a slight furrow of his brow.

“I have other matters to tend to, so let’s call it a night, yeah?” She smiled at him. He swallowed his feelings and masked nonchalance as he stood after you with his hands in his pockets, nodding. “Doesn’t feel all that bad having assistance now, does it?”

He huffed. “I suppose the whole ‘having a work partner’ doesn’t seem too bad…”

“Then, is it safe to assume I’ll expect to meet up with you again next week for our next case, Kujo? She raised a hand to him.

A ghost of a smile graced his lips as he shook your hand. He can’t wait to talk to you again. “Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”

---

“And that’s how the life of a beluga whale plays out…”

The little girl sitting on his lap pouted and looked up at her father, taking the storybook from his hands and furrowing her brows, “But Papa, how come Benny had to leave his pod at the end? Why not make friends with Blubber?”

He petted her hair with a low hum. “That’s just how nature works with species like belugas. Sometimes, there will be times when other animals are not that trusting and will hesitate to accept strangers into the group. This leads to the two fighting, and whoever wins gets to be in the group.”

“That’s so sad…”

“Did… did you want to hear a better story? I’m sorry I picked this-”

“No! I did like the story, Papa! Just like the stories of Ollie Orca and Penny Penguin! I learned a lot about the squishies!” Jolyne exclaimed, dropping the book to turn to him and press his cheeks together. “You make learning about sea animals nice!”

Jotaro smiled and nodded with a hint of bashfulness, his daughter’s encouragement never failing to make his day better. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Night had dawned on the father and daughter duo rather fast without either realizing. It took the ending of Benny Beluga for the child to realize that it was her bedtime and another day with her dad had gone by. Jotaro never felt confident in his parenting skills, but from the way her eyes glimmered at him and her smile widened with every laughter, he could almost feel proud that his efforts were coming to fruition.

Jolyne was her father’s little girl and she always made sure to remind him of that.

“Alright. You know what time it is,” he said as Star Platinum lifted the pouting girl off his lap and tucked her into bed. For Jolyne, she was used to the invisible ghost friend her father had and treated Star as her guardian angel. “Lights out, kiddo…”

“Will you stay up overnight again?” He offered a small smile and nodded. “But you always work overnight… you’re gonna get sick.”

“It’s fine, Jolyne. Papa’s used to it now.”

“But you look very sad when I see you working,” she muttered with a pout, gripping her blanket close to her. “I don’t like you being so sad…”

“I’m not. Trust me,” he said half-heartedly. He didn’t want to dump his adult issues onto his young daughter. Star handed her dolphin plushie and he adjusted the sheets over his daughter. “I’m feeling fine. You don’t have to worry about your old man because you’re here to make my day…”

“But what if I’m not here?” Jolyne pouted. “Who’s going to make you happy?

He averted his eyes and stared at his hand, still holding onto her blanket. He won’t admit it, but he could feel the loneliness start to drive him crazy. “I can manage those days.”

“Are you sure you don’t want Mama to come back and help you?”

He nodded once. “I’m sure and… I’m sorry…” Jolyne didn’t answer after that and settled into her pillow, hugging her stuffed toy, slightly saddened. He reached down to give her one more head ruffle and stood. “Get some sleep now. I’ll make your favorite breakfast when you wake up.”

“If not Mama… then can it be anyone else? I won’t mind… I swear…” He paused and looked back at his little girl, half-asleep. “I don’t want Papa to be alone…”

His heart clenched at her words. For his child to be open to him finding another partner just so she wouldn’t have to see or imagine his tired, overworked father alone, did a lot of emotional damage to his psyche, and made it hurt even more knowing that he had sacrificed this amount of love from his daughter in the old timeline.

“I have you and that’s enough for me…” Jotaro knelt one more time by her bedside and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t worry too much…”

At this point, Jolyne had already fallen asleep. He smiled and fixed her bangs before standing and leaving the room as quietly as possible.

---

A few months flew by, and working with you was probably one of the better decisions he reconsidered in his lifetime.

What felt like a slog to get through almost turned into a breeze with your added help. You proved to him countless times that tracking and catching criminals and suspects was your specialty. That your skills and methods worked well with his- his keen observation skills with your intuition, his grounded assumptions applied to your tight networking, his close combat prowess with your sharpshooter aim, his powerful Star Platinum paired with your impenetrable Silent Sanctuary.

Going with this rate, when 10 cases would take several months to accomplish, were finished within at least 5.

Outside of work, he surprisingly grew to like your rather no-filter, sharp attitude when he shouldn’t. It was never explicitly shared, but it was safe to say that you two grew to become close friends.

You automatically settled into a natural dynamic where he would more often follow after you while you were doing your own thing. When you had something in mind, he was there to lend an ear, and sometimes an opinion. There never was a quiet day when he was with you, and for the first time in a while, he didn’t mind the endless chatter you had. They piqued his interest, and you always had food or drink on the table whenever you had your tangents.

Then, to his unfortunate realization, he found out that all the traits you had that irked him in the beginning… were attractive. It wasn’t that the feeling brewed overnight. The moments of him stuck in his office after an assignment had left him mulling over a series of consistent interactions with the shameless agent, and how all of it wormed its way into his brain like a temptation.

Your authority and assertiveness:

”Care to answer why you chose to break the rule of ‘no stalking’?”

The former Stand user, tied up and heavily bruised, whimpered under the scrutiny of your gaze. His case involved having a Stand that was able to make him incorporeal, and with such an ability, he had multiple instances of stalking and harassing young women. But now, Jotaro doubted he would do any more harm, considering his Stand was extracted and he was under your intense interrogation.

The two victims stood behind Jotaro while everything unfolded before them and the eyes of law enforcement. “I-I didn’t mean- I only wanted- I mean- I should have-”

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and spat directly at his face, “Stop crying and talk properly, you degenerate.” You tilted your head and tugged at the strands of his hair. “Let me repeat myself in a more literal manner: What made you think it was alright to torment and stalk these ladies with such perversion?”

”I-I just wanted affection!”

Jotaro gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at the cheap excuse, more so when the girls behind him still cowered. You harshly let him go and made it clear you were not buying it either. “Pathetic. And knowing you’re married too?” You showed the man his silver ring. “You disgust me, and your wife should be too.”

One of the officers who arrived on the scene butted in. “We can take over from here-”

”No, the hell you’re not,” you snapped at him. “Not with you having the audacity to take your sweet time after these ladies have called for help. My partner and I will be dropping him off at the station ourselves and making sure he stays behind bars.”

”Now hold on. You dare speak to an officer of the law like that-”

”Girls, did I hear right that you said the cops usually disregard your calls and even heard them scoff through the phone?” You addressed the two women standing behind Jotaro, who nodded frantically. “And that he usually just lets creeps like him go for some reason?”

”We had to! There’s not enough evidence-”

”There are security cameras in the areas they went and people who saw it happen. You couldn’t go over the footage or ask anyone around? You couldn’t recognize a repeated pattern after many calls? Couldn’t you do your job better?” The cop fell silent. “Exactly. Like I said, I’ll be making sure he gets his due. I don’t care if I have to talk to your superiors, because I will if it means giving these ladies peace of mind.”

The officer bristled and turned to Jotaro. “What the hell are you doing just standing there like a bystander and letting your partner talk shit to us. You ignorant or what?”

He couldn’t care less getting berated out of the blue since it was stupid, but then, ”Hey!” You butted in, and his heart might have skipped a pulse. ”You don’t get to talk shit to him when I'm the one talking while he did nothing wrong.”

You pulled the tied man up to his wobbly legs and strode to the officers, staring them down as you shoved the man in the direction of your car. “Officer of the law,” you scoffed. “Earn your title first before flaunting it to my face just to get paid. A disgrace is what you are.” Again, the cops said nothing and avoided eye contact with you, cheeks slightly tinted with embarrassment.

Your care and protectiveness:

”You can be so reckless at times, you know that, right?”

”These aren’t that bad. I’ve dealt with worse…”

”The fuck do you mean ‘not that bad’?! You’re blood’s actively still soaking most of your clothes!”

Another case had been resolved involving a woman with a blade-based Stand. The whole investigation could’ve been better if she wasn’t neurotic and thought that everyone around her should bend to her whims. The encounter, in general, was nothing too unique in how she utilized her Stand to attack.

That didn’t stop her from landing a few deep gashes on his body when she managed to separate you from him momentarily.

But just like any other Stand encounter, he had the same pain tolerance from when he was younger and just brushed off his injuries as yet another common recurrence in his life. Even if, at times, said wounds would cause him to collapse and faint from blood loss.

And yet here you were, making sure he wouldn’t let him have another near-death experience by having him propped up against the headboard of a motel’s bed, and stripping him off his torn white coat and shirt, ripping it in some areas, if necessary. Despite feeling like he could pass out at any point, his cheeks warmed, almost feeling… shy as you exposed his skin and tended to his injuries with urgency and your classic intensity.

”You’re worrying too much. I said I’m fi-” You hissed at him, the sharp sound clamping his mouth shut immediately.

”You better stop downplaying your wounds or I might just leave you to die.” He was about to speak, only for him to wince from reflex as you poured streams of water on the large gash on his torso and the laceration up his arm. “Honestly, with the way you’re going about this, I think I’m growing more concerned you’re finding these injuries normal than the actual injuries themselves.”

Jotaro shrugged, looking elsewhere. “It is what it is. I got used to it… I even learned how to perform first aid by myself on the spot.”

”Shit,” you cocked your head with furrowed brows, your hands still cleaning his cuts with careful touches. With it still bleeding, you had Sanctuary lend her fabric to wrap around his gashes. “You call me insane, but I think you’re just as insane as I, but in a different way.”

At that, he let out an empty chuckle that sounded like a half-hearted scoff. “I don’t think resilience should be compared to being a bull in a china shop- ah!” He shut his eyes and yelped as your Stand tightened its cloth around his cuts, effectively preventing even more blood loss.

”I’m not that aggressive! Nor am I that brutish!” You said, and even with narrowed eyes, “At least say I’m like a rabid cat wrecking all her owner’s porcelain. At least I’d still look classy as I wreak havoc…” Jotaro looked down at you, and he could see your lips purse into a pout as you monitored his wounds. He could feel his lips curl into a smile. Cute… Wait.

”But that’s beside the point,” you huffed, removing your Stand’s fabrics and unfurling a roll of bandages to properly dress his gashes. “What I’m saying is that you might need further help if you’ve been this desensitized to severe wounds like these.”

”Oh? Suddenly, you’re a psychology expert?”

”No… but,” you gazed into his eyes as you tightened the bandages until it’s firmly secure, your hands holding his waist. “I am your partner. And partners look out for each other if they’re going to be together for the long run. And I’ll be damned to hell if I’m going to pretend you’re invincible or some other bullshit like that.”

Jotaro couldn’t say anything after that, speechless. If anything, his breath turned shaky when he could feel the rapid beat of his heart thumping in his chest as a swirl of emotions bubbled to the surface. “I am your partner”. He didn’t know why that struck a chord in him, but those words had formed a lump in his throat and a slight blur in his vision, even if he knew you meant it as work partners.

God, he wanted to hear that so bad…

You got up with a heavy sigh after his wounds were dressed and pulled the sheets over his abdomen. “Let’s rest here for the night and head back to HQ tomorrow. I’ll take the couch and…” You rubbed your arms from the chill and picked up his ruined coat, still stained with red. “Make your clothing still useful, I guess.”

”Don’t be stupid. The bed’s big enough for two,” he said, smoothing over the empty spot beside him. “And no, I don’t need all the space for a good night’s sleep even if I’m injured or a big person.”

You widened your eyes and spluttered with a hint of a blush on your cheeks, “You serious? I didn’t peg you to be a bed sharer, Kujo.”

The more you resisted, the more his cheeks warmed from embarrassment. He averted his gaze, turning flustered. “I’m just being practical. It’s a big bed designed for two. Might as well make use of it instead of toughing it out with my tattered coat as a blanket…” There was an awkward silence between you. “My god, just get in the damn bed already. It’s fine.”

You ended up under the covers with him, lying apart from each other. However, instead of facing away as they would’ve expected, Jotaro couldn’t help but face you, and you did the same, neither falling asleep. “Hey…” He hummed in acknowledgment. “When we’re together like this, I want you to promise me one thing…”

”… What is it?”

”Promise me you won’t hide your pains from me again. You have to tell me so I can do what I can to help you…”

He paused, his hand closing slightly from where it rested on the pillow. “And what if you can’t?”

You closed your eyes and muttered. “I’ll figure something out, but I’m not going to leave you to rot… that’s the least I can do…"

Jotaro pressed his cheek on his pillow and nodded once, his heart swelling with emotions. “Okay…”

He groaned and rubbed his face behind his hands, cheeks heating up significantly, more so remembering the day after. He couldn’t forget the second he had woken up, he found himself huddled close to you, both bodies curled against each other to bask in each other’s warmth.

What was he doing? This was dumb. He shouldn’t be thinking about this when he’s made peace with himself about being alone, and you had better things to do than to accommodate his tired ass. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but want more from the dynamic you and he had.

“Papa!” Jotaro snapped out of his thoughts and turned to look at Jolyne clutching his pants, looking up at him. “You’re in your deep thinking head mode again.”

“Oh… am I now?”

“Yeah! Your eyebrows do that thing where it gets close and it looks like you’re angry, but you’re not. That type- Like this!” She demonstrated by doing an exaggerated furrow of her brow, mimicking him. “You always do that.”

“Your Papa just has a lot of things going on in his mind, alright?” He stood and ruffled her hair. “It’s dinner time. Want to help me and Star in the kitchen? We’re making one of your favorites.” Of course, she already knew that. He always made her favorite meals when she was with him.

Jolyne beamed and nodded excitedly, her fists clenched and eager. “Which one?!”

“Which do you think?”

She hummed and said the first thing on her mind. “Ramen! The one in the big bowl!”

Jotaro cocked his brow as the duo stepped into the kitchen. “Again? Didn’t I make that for you last night?” He said that, but he had already opened the cupboard to grab the flour needed for the noodles. “You know, eating the same stuff over and over again isn’t good for you.”

“But it’s yummy!” Jolyne whined, bouncing on her feet with her hands on the countertop. “And Mama always cooks the same stuff all the time…”

“Are you saying her cooking’s bad?”

“No… It’s not bad… I just like Papa’s cooking better!” He chuckled as he gathered the ingredients together. Perhaps tolerating his mother’s cooking lessons throughout his younger years paid off.

But before he could start, the home phone rang. Jotaro furrowed his brows and placed down the pork. What the hell? I shouldn’t be receiving new assignments during my weekends. He walked over and lifted the phone to his ear. “Dr. Kujo speaking.”

He listened to the speaker, and his heart started to grow heavy. “Fuck. Again? Another emergency at the facility? Can’t you call someone else?” Jolyne watches on from the background, her face already despondent when she picks up on her father’s conflicted expression. “I can’t just leave my child by herself. I’m watching her. I’m cooking her dinner for god’s sake.”

I shouldn’t be working on my weekends. Damn it. “You swear this won’t take long?”

I don’t want to leave my daughter again. Not this time. “Fine. I’m going home as soon as this problem is dealt with. Don’t bother requesting my assistance again after.” He places the phone back down.

“Are you going back to work again…?” She muttered, gaze turning downcast to her hands fidgeting with the green onions. “I really wanted to play chef with you and Star again…”

Jotaro swallowed the rising guilt in his throat and approached his daughter, kneeling before her and taking her hands in his. “This won’t be one of my heavier duties. It won’t take long. It’ll only be for a few hours. I promise.”

Jolyne pressed her lips together, willing herself not to cry because she was a big girl now. “B-But what about dinner? You were supposed to make dinner with me…”

“I know. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” He looked at the nearby wall clock and cursed to himself. A babysitter was an immediate solution that came to mind, but he saw his fair share of those people, and he refused to put his only child under the supervision of some teenager who’s only in it for the pay, especially for parents as wealthy as him. Calling his ex was also out of the question. It just made him uncomfortable.

Leaving only one person in mind, though he doubted it would work out.

It took him by surprise when 30 minutes after he sent the text, of him trying to figure out alternative solutions, the doorbell rang. He opened the door, and you were there to greet him casually. “Hey. You have impeccable timing to text me just as I was finishing up my meeting with my company’s human resources committee. Hope I didn’t take too long.”

I thought you were too busy even to bother, but you came… “No, you didn’t.” He stepped aside for you to enter.

Jotaro watched you look around the house. “The Foundation wasn’t kidding when they said the Joestars had money.” You set your bag on one of the couches in his living room. “Spacious, a mix of modern West and traditional Eastern design, and I can imagine it must be scenic when it’s daytime, having it by the sea. It sets a nice ambiance for your home,” you said. “I like your style.”

His cheeks flushed at the compliment. “It was mostly thanks to my mother. I don’t pay too much attention to that kind of detail.” He shrugged. “My daughter loves it though, so I’m glad that worked out in the end.”

“Oh! Speaking of your daughter, where is she? May I get to know her?”

Jotaro nodded and left for the kitchen to bring his 7-year-old girl to you. She wasn’t the type to be shy around strangers, and to you, she merely tilted her head and stared at you with curious eyes before looking back at him, confused. “Y/N, this is Jolyne. Jolyne, this is my work partner Y/N.”

You squatted down to level with the child and smiled. “Why hello, Jolyne. It’s nice meeting you.” Jolyne watched her with wide eyes, never once breaking eye contact, even as you offered her a hand to shake. “I heard you’re quite adventurous. I feel like you and I will get along just fine.” She grabbed your hand with both of hers.

“Y/N will watch over you while I’m out,” Jotaro said, petting the little girl’s head. “Try not to cause too much trouble, alright?” Jolyne furrowed her brows and bit her lip, still upset that he had to leave, but she nodded reluctantly. He patted her shoulder twice before standing to prepare.

He sighed and went to retrieve his bag and car keys. “I appreciate you coming over. I owe you one…”

“We can talk about that when you get back. You handle your business first,” you said.

He nodded once. “Alright. I won’t take long.”

---

You saw him off as he drove to work and closed the door behind you. “Okay. Let’s see…,” You muttered to yourself. “It’s dinner, so I should deal with that first.”

Stepping into the kitchen, Jolyne sat on one of the island stools, holding onto the box of flour among the many other ingredients on the counter. She caught you staring and waited for what you had planned. “Planned to cook with your dad, huh?” She nodded. You rolled up your sleeves and approached the counter. “What was on the menu?”

“… Ramen,” she muttered. “I was supposed to help him make a big bowl, but he’s back working late again…”

“Well, we can still make that big bowl of ramen if you want.” Jolyne looked up at you with wide eyes as you examined each ingredient your partner had left. “Of course, it won’t be on par with your dad’s recipe, but I promise mine won’t be too bad. Is that fine with you, young lady?”

Jolyne puffed her cheeks and hummed, giving it a thought. She pouted and crossed her arms. “It’s fine because I’m hungry.”

Aside from the given ingredients, you looked in the cabinets and fridge to check what else was there to use. “Your dad stocked up a lot of food,” you commented as you took in the number of produce, meat selections, and spices in his kitchen.

“Mhm! Papa said it’s all for me!” Jolyne exclaimed. “He always makes sure to have plenty of food for when we cook together with Star!”

You smiled at the thought of this big, scary man preparing meals for his energetic little girl, with a bulky purple ghost helping him out. “That does sound lovely. Say,” You plucked a couple more ingredients from the fridge. “Would you like me to prepare some side dishes to go with your ramen?”

She tilted her head. “Won’t that take too long?”

“We can multitask together, Jolyne,” you said with a cheeky smile. “Because like your dad, I also have a friend who can help us with dinner.”

Jolyne’s eyes sparkled. “You do?!”

To show off to the little girl, you had your Stand simultaneously grab several items, utensils, and equipment with its many fabrics and let them hover around her. If you could recall correctly, to his daughter, Stands were invisible, so all she saw now were floating objects. She watched them fly about with childlike awe, her smile wide and infectious.

You chuckled and went over to the aprons you found hanging on the wall. “Ready to make a delicious bowl of ramen?” You handed her the smaller apron, and with renewed enthusiasm, she nodded with a determined smirk.

Over time, you two hustled and bustled around the kitchen, helping one another to put together a savory meal for both of you. While you did more of the heavier parts of the cooking, you taught and supervised the child with the lighter ones, and she was more than eager to listen, happy to just be involved. Silent Sanctuary assisted in handing you and Jolyne what was next in the recipe.

Of course, you weren’t one to make the scene settle into awkward silence. With a similar approach you used on Jotaro, you opened up a conversation topic that might trigger the young girl to start sharing her interests. At first, you talked about her favorites while preparing to simmer the broth and braise the pork belly. By the time you began plating the dish, it was Jolyne’s turn to open up about your work and what you did.

You entertained her questions and kept the conversation light and digestible for a child when talking about your job that involved catching bad guys with her father, all while you proceeded to do the side dishes next. She listened to your many stories with full interest, butting in at times to fire a multitude of questions.

By the time everything was done, Jolyne was more than happy to chow down on her dinner. And you watched the little girl scarf down your meal, making a mess on the table and on her face. You shook your head with fond amusement, grabbing a tissue to wipe everything down. “Well? How do you like my recipe?”

With stuffed cheeks, Jolyne spoke with glimmering eyes. “Yummy! Just as yummy as Papa’s!”

“That’s good to hear. If your father asks me to watch over you again, I can show you more dishes that taste like the ramen we made. Sounds good?” She nodded vigorously.

After swallowing, she wanted to talk more about your profession. “So, you mean the bad guys also have invisible friends to help them do all that bad stuff?”

You hummed in agreement. “That’s why your father and I have to work so hard to fight these people. Because getting rid of them makes the world feel safer for innocent civilians like you.”

“I want to be like you and Papa when I grow up!” Jolyne mimicked a boxer’s stance and jabbed the air once. Twice. Thrice. “It also sounds fun! I want to kick their butts and show them who’s boss!”

“Fighting these bad guys isn’t a game, Jolyne.” You grabbed another tissue to wipe her cheeks. “They’re dangerous and can cause big wounds. I may not mind it that much, but your father hates dealing with them because it’s that tiring.”

She puffed her cheeks again and furrowed her brows, her spirited determination flaring once more. “Then… I want to help him! I want to learn how to fight and help Papa so it’s not tiring!”

“Well,” You chuckled. “If you’re older and able to have a ghost friend to help you fight, then you can find me and I can take you under my wing and help you with that.”

The little girl widened her eyes and smiled widely. “Really?!”

“You have potential, young lady. With enough experience and exposure, I have no doubts you can do so much not only for yourself but for your father as well.” You huffed. “But then again, that’s only when you have a ghost friend. So, I can’t guarantee it would happen.”

“I’ll find a way!”

You smiled. “Of course you will.”

The rest of the evening was spent with the two engrossed in a non-stop conversation about each other’s lives. When Jotaro had told her that his daughter was too much of a curious kid, he wasn’t exaggerating. While watching her favorite shows and taking care of her, Jolyne would begin to open up more and more, wanting to know more about her father’s colleague and the job you and he found yourselves in.

She was a sweet child with a soul that yearned to explore the world, and you admired the young girl’s youthful energy. It wasn’t long until you grew fond of her, wishing nothing more than to help her reach her dreams and guide her along the way.

Likewise, Jolyne would grow a liking for you. You knew how to make delicious food, you were invested in her many ramblings, never once annoyed by the number of questions she’d ask, and she found you cool and fun to be with in general. And when you said about potentially returning to babysit her, she’d rather want you than some other babysitter.

Eventually, the night would come to a close, and you tucked Jolyne to bed after telling her one of your bedtime stories from memory, handing her favorite plush toy and drawing the sheet over her. “Do you sleep with the lamp on or off?”

“On…”

“Okay,” You said, gently brushing her hair. “Get some sleep. I’m sure your father will be here to make you breakfast when you wake up.”

“Can… you marry my Papa?”

You froze, your cheeks heating up as she muttered those words in her sleepy trance. “Huh?”

“Papa’s sad… when I’m not here… I don’t want him to be sad…”

You thought back to the times you spent with him post-case, where it was supposed to be two colleagues taking the load off their shoulders and unwind with a simple talk, and in the midst of all your talk with him, there was a consistent pattern of Jotaro purposely making his day job and personal life vague, often dismisses it even if the topic wasn’t being intrusive.

It wasn’t out of character for this man to do his work diligently, but there was something in the way he spoke about himself that sounded…defeated? Like he gave up on something he wanted when he was younger. You picked up on this, and his child did as well.

And as much as it shouldn’t be your problem, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to let your work partner wallow in self-imposed suffering.

But for Jolyne to ask a suggestion so casually caused you to reflect on yourself and your feelings towards your colleague. Was this whole support each other supposed to just be an obligation as partners? Or did you actually feel something for him? You had a genuine interest in the guy, found his subtle mannerisms and underlying values endearing, the times when he did smile and chuckle at your words sparked pride and joy in your conscience…

“I am your partner.” You had said that to him, and in the moment, you hadn’t thought too much of it, but in retrospect, you found out how that sounded more intimate than it should have. Just like the time he had offered to share the bed with you in the guise of practicality.

You turned back to Jolyne, who had fallen asleep during the entirety of your introspection, and sighed.

“We’ll see how all this will turn out, little one…”

---

One night. One night of undesirable circumstances was all that was needed to get some answers from him.

You finished yet another investigation and took him out to a quaint, rustic bar not too far from their target’s location. There weren’t many people occupying the area, except for the handful of loyal patrons and nomadic tourists who were in for exploring niche places. After battling with another non-compliant Stand user, both of you needed some peace of quiet.

The bartender stepped in to slide you both glasses and placed a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon red wine and a Jack Daniel’s whiskey for Jotaro. “I assume you can handle your liquor well, hm?”

He made a low sound as he poured himself a drink. “I’ve been making sure to dial down my alcohol nowadays and stick to caffeine. But… I did like beer during my youth.” He sighed. “Tonight? I just had to… pour myself one for now…” He took a shot.

You nodded, pouring for yourself as well. “During your youth, huh? Are we talking early 20s? Or I-hit-18-and-I’m-legal-to-drink-now age?”

Despite the tiredness in his eyes, his lips quirked up into a slight smirk. “A year before that…”

“Underage drinking?” You cocked a brow and sipped your drink. “How bold of you. Got curious?”

“Not really. It was mostly an act,” he said as he poured another shot. “I was a teenager. I had to look cool and so… did some rebellious crap that I stopped once I graduated: Be an asshole, smoke cigarettes, and drink beer to show off. That stuff…”

“You must have been a pain to everyone around you in your rebel days, huh?”

He kept his gaze on his glass and replied, “In a way, I still am.”

Your chest had a minor pang at that, but you kept that to yourself and held your head in your hand and looked at him, dubious. “Mm, doesn’t seem like it. Sure, you still got that menacing vibe around you, still stoic obviously, but in all honesty, you’re not all bad. You seemed mellowed out and definitely a better person than I.”

He scoffed and took another shot. “Shut it with the flattery.”

“It’s called a compliment, Kujo. Offering flattery isn’t in my dictionary,” you replied in that playful tone you’d use. “Here I thought you knew me already.”

“Oh? Was I supposed to study you, L/N?” You shrugged as you finished your first glass. “Are you implying that I should start analyzing my colleagues now?”

“Keep your friends close. Your enemies closer.”

“You’re not my enemy.”

You stared at him with mischief. “I might. You never know.”

He paused for a moment, and for the first time today, Jotaro huffed out a soft laugh. “Cheeky, but fine.” He shot another glass. “Since you’re so goddamn persistent, I’ll play your game.”

And it all snowballed from there. Unlike most instances of you being the instigator of your conversations, he was the one who asked the questions. You told your answers and hurled the question back at him. From one question would stem many more, and both of you would lose yourself in a night of GTKY and alcohol.

It hadn’t occurred to you immediately, but you hadn’t noticed that hours had passed until the bartender told you they were closing in 15 minutes. On your side of the counter was an empty bottle of red wine, and on his side were 2 empty Jack Daniel’s.

Jotaro leaned heavily on his elbow, holding his head that was on the verge of dropping face-first onto the counter. You furrowed your brows and lightly nudged his shoulder. “Hey, are you doing okay?” You always thought he could handle his alcohol just as you could, but his sluggish movements combined with the flushed cheeks told you otherwise.

“Okay?” He scoffed, smiling bitterly behind his hand. “Hardly. None of what I’m doing feels okay. Can’t even drink damn alcohol now. I’m just getting tired of it…”

“Oh my god, you’re drunk.” He shook his head, slurring something about how he wasn’t and he was just sleepy. You thanked the bartender for his services and stood to approach your colleague. “Alright, big guy. Let’s get you back to your place.”

You managed to get a good grasp on his arm and, with some effort, not crumble to the floor as you hauled him off the bar stool and on unsteady feet. His arm remained slung over your shoulders, his head lolling to the side and hanging low. “I need you to cooperate with me here.”

“Why bother helping me?” He said, groggily. “I can go home by myself…”

“Ahuh. Sure, you can.” You fumbled around in his pockets until you fished out his car keys. “I’m driving, though.”

You half-dragged Jotaro out of the bar and out onto the sidewalk where his car was parked nearby. He stumbled along with you, often wobbling to the side and occasionally pulling you with him due to his weight. He continued to slur out complaints and proclamations about how he was fine, that he just felt sleepy, and he could drive fine.

“Don’t be stupid, Kujo. You gulped down more whiskey than you intended. You’re drunk and I’m not.” You heaved and readjusted his arm around your shoulder. “It’s obvious who should be behind the wheel tonight.”

“I can do everything by myself!” He said, his muddled voice rising with tired frustration. “I’ve always handled my shit alone! Leave me!”

You sighed. “We’ve talked about this months ago. No backing out of an agreement now.”

“I don’t want to burden you…” You stopped in your tracks and turned to him. His head still hung low, cheeks flushed red. “All this Stand bullshit is all his fault. All my fault. I should fix it. I need to fix it…”

“Hey…”

Jotaro raised his head to look at you with squinted eyes and tight brows. “And I don’t know how. Isn’t that a fucking joke?” He laughed an empty laugh, his head leaning heavily on your shoulder. “My successes and for what? More stress? More attention? More ruined relationships? I can’t even be with my own daughter properly without my day job draining all my spare time down the drain.”

“And who needs friends when they all just leave and die in the end?” You stayed silent as he continued, his ironic chuckles now bordering on despairing sobs. Not quite on the latter yet, but even then… it still hurts to hear. He pressed his cheek to your shoulder and smiled at you with dull, wet eyes. “You chose to be with me and now tell me- when will you leave for greater things, or better yet… when will you die, hm? ‘Cause I’ll still be here, just ready to soak up all these bullshit feelings.”

Despite the uncharacteristically excessive and pessimistic talk, you knew there was no insult to his drunken speech. You knew what you were capable of, and your Stand’s primary ability prevented you from suffering any injury, and Jotaro knew that too. He wouldn’t have agreed to continue partnering with you.

When will you leave? When will you die? It was as if he was already bracing himself for the inevitable to lessen the pain. To expect the worst so he wouldn’t get his hopes up and get hurt when it comes.

He lazily pulled his head away from your shoulder and hung it low again. “Now, if you really want eff… effa… efficiency, you should just ditch me… and work on other projects-”

“Shut up and get in the car.” You didn’t know when you started walking while he continued to ramble into the night, but you did and found yourself standing beside his car. You opened the passenger’s door and nudged him to get in.

“I can-” You hissed at him, and he nodded. “Okay…” He begrudgingly stepped into the vehicle, bumping his head a little by accident on the car roof, and you closed it after he settled in. You walked around, entered the driver’s seat, started the ignition, and drove off.

The road back to his place was silent. You chose to keep the radio silent, thinking it might just irritate him. Throughout the trip, he remained slumped on the car door, half-asleep and the other half gazing out the window to watch the world pass by them under the evening sky.

Once you arrived, you parked the car accordingly and got off. You made quick work pulling the drunken man out of the passenger’s seat and dragging his ass through his front door. Struggling to get both your shoes off was one thing; getting him up the stairs was another challenge in itself. Eventually, you managed to reach his bedroom and dropped him onto the sheets. He went down easily enough like a toppled, semi-conscious tree log.

You exhaled a sigh of relief that you got to deliver him back to his room in one piece, but you didn’t know what to do next. Should you just leave him be? Or make sure he was comfortable enough? He groaned and used whatever energy he had left to rub his eyes, grimacing from how shitty he must be feeling.

Next thing you knew, you had already made up your mind. You rearranged his body and limbs so he lay properly with his head on the pillow and his feet on the foot of the bed. You paused in your caregiving and took a seat on the edge, sparing a few seconds to just watch him.

Jotaro might as well be already asleep by the time you get him on the pillows. You didn’t know the exact details of what you thought, but there was something about how he seemed more vulnerable when he was in his slumber. There was no trace of that stoicism he always had on, nor any of the more focused or sharp aspects that made him professional.

Instead, in his vulnerability, there was the defeat- his relaxed brows, the shadows under his eyes, the sad tilt of his lip, the subtle glint of a tear or two in his lashes. “How much did you have to suffer…? Since 17?” Your heart ached for the man whose life changed for the worse, where his attempts to make it seem normal just didn’t work. “You never wanted to be a part of this, huh?”

Without realizing it, you reached forward to brush aside the short curls off his forehead. “If you’d let me, I’d take over most if not all of your cases. Use the time for yourself.” He furrowed his brows and leaned his head into your hand. With a newfound sense of worry, you softly pet his hair. “You don’t have to shoulder everything on your own…”

Of course, he was asleep. He couldn’t have heard you. And he was still in his work clothes, which must be uncomfortable to sleep in. You leaned forward to lift his upper body so you could take off his white coat. And you did just that and pulled him up to lean him against you.

However, as you pulled the coat down to his biceps, you stiffened as his arms encircled you in a warm embrace, and his face buried itself on your shoulder. “K-Kujo! What are you-”

“You… mean that…?” He mumbled. “You’d… help me… that much?”

Your eyes softened. “When have I ever lied?”

“We’re partners… who got each other’s backs…” He gently tightened his arms around you and nuzzled closer to your neck, needing comfort. “Being your partner… was the best decision I ever made… in this new life…”

The tension in your body left, leaving only an immense amount of empathy and fondness for him. You returned his hug with a hand around his back, and the other cradling his head. He sighed shakily at the reciprocation. “I’m sorry… for being selfish… but… please…” He whispered. “Don’t leave me… alone…”

“I won’t…” You pressed your cheek on his and held him tighter, combing through his curls. “You know I won’t…”

As if he were reassured, his arms dropped limp onto the sheets, and his breathing evened out. You glanced down at him and confirmed that he had passed out. You returned to your task and pulled the coat off his body, and with that done, you eased him back on the sheets, got him comfortable, and drew the duvet over him.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you said under your breath. “Otherwise, I would’ve just dropped you off and left. You know that, right?” Jotaro remained asleep, turning his head slightly to the side. You contemplated what to do next as you kept watching over him, idly petting his hair.

An idea struck, and it was an impulsive one. But you already said you liked him. Was it that impulsive? What’s this going to matter anyway?

You stood and bent down, getting close to face. You gently cupped his cheek and thumbed the skin before leaning down to press a soft kiss on his forehead. He didn’t respond, obviously, but your heart did. Once you slowly withdrew, your heartbeat thundered in your chest, and your cheeks significantly grew three times warmer.

A hushed curse fled your lips. “Oh my god, what am I doing?” You stepped back and walked over to his drawers to find the nearest pen and paper. Keeping it short with a few words, you left the note on his nightstand before taking your leave and letting him rest.

Something came to mind just then. At that, you glanced one more time at him before heading out to do one more thing for him when he wakes tomorrow, already getting the pen and paper for a new note.

---

Jotaro woke up to a splitting headache.

Other than catching the Stand user red-handed and going out with you on one of your dine-outs, he could not for the life of him recall what happened last night. One moment he’s invested in talking with you on the topic of shorelines, and the next, he’s sitting upright on his bed in the same clothes with a throbbing head.

But it occurred to him that you were also there to witness whatever the fuck he had done during his lapse of memory. He held his face, groaning as his cheeks warmed at the thought of your fellow no-nonsense colleague watching him act out without inhibition.

“Good fucking grief…” He tossed his legs over the edge of the bed, and before he could stand, the savory aroma that wafted into his nose and the neon yellow sticky note standing out on his nightstand grabbed his attention. Looking over at it, the note was stuck onto a covered bowl of… soup? Sitting beside it was a spoon and a bottle of water.

He plucked the paper off the lid and read:

Rise and shine, lightweight!

I’ll have you know you were heavy as hell when I dragged you back here.

And no, you didn’t embarrass yourself in front of me. That’s if “being cute and sleepy” isn’t embarrassing.

Anyway, I left some hangover soup and something to hydrate yourself with. Just heat it when you wake.

I’ll drop by sometime tomorrow for updates, but in the meantime, take the time to freshen up.

Y/N

That warmth in his face intensified after reading it, setting the note aside and holding his face with both hands. “Cute and sleepy…” He scoffed. I shouldn’t have drunk that much whiskey. Never drink with others again, Kujo. Stick to caffeine.

Jotaro reached for the bowl and uncovered the lid, revealing a nicely made homemade beef broth soup. Even though the contents had turned lukewarm from being left overnight, it still smelled good. He grabbed the spoon and took a sip of the dish, and a soft moan was made.

Damn. It tasted good too, and to think that you made this for him? Jotaro’s cheeks would remain heated throughout breakfast.

He got into his morning routine right after he finished heating the soup and consuming all of it in a few minutes. He brushed, showered, got into new clothes, and stepped into his office to accomplish some pending tasks yet to finish for the upcoming research program.

Though he couldn’t fully focus on his work when all he could think about was not only the headache mildly being a nuisance, but also you.

He lost count of how many times he’d stopped writing or typing the second his brain flashed him a memory of you smiling at that bar, chuckling at an unintentional one-line he uttered with the faint blush on your cheeks, or you caging his bigger body against the wall earlier that day to protect him from an incoming projectile, or when you gazed at him under the dim moonlight of that motel room as you lay beside him on that bed-

He put down his pen for the nth time and leaned back on his chair, palming his heated face in frustration. It didn’t help that his heart would start to run a marathon at the mere thought of your snarky and unbothered banters, your face that had the right amount of audacity, and the number of your genuine caregiving gestures that never failed to set the butterflies in his stomach aflutter. “I am your partner.”

And you planned to visit him again within the day. How the hell is he supposed to compose himself when his feelings for you have gone awry?

With the devil’s timing, the doorbell rang in the middle of his attempt to get himself together. He schooled himself into nonchalance and headed to the front door, bracing for whatever physiological effect his body would brew at the sight of you on his doorstep.

Jotaro opened the door, and you greeted him with that smile that bordered on a smirk and a small wave. “Hey,” The butterflies flew wildly almost immediately, and his chest was on the verge of bursting. Yet his face remained neutral, save for the faint blush on his cheeks.

“L/N… You’re here.”

“I did say I’ll be dropping by today,” you said as you pulled out three folders from behind your back. “With updates. Remember? Unless you completely missed my note, then surprise! We have updates.”

“No. I got your note… and the soup.” He opened the door wider and stepped aside. “We should discuss this inside.”

You nodded and took off your shoes before entering his home. “By the way, how’s the hangover? Was it as bad as I assumed?”

He followed you into the dining room, tipping his hat over his face. “It’s nothing new, but it’s painful as hell. I can still feel it until now,” Jotaro grumbled and continued with heated cheeks. “But the soup helped… if that’s what you wanted to hear.”

“Just as I thought. I brought you a hangover relief drink to help with the lingering aches.” You placed the folders on the dining table and pulled out a small glass bottle with white and orange labeling from your bag. “This is newly imported, by the way. So, the effects should be at their best.”

Jotaro swallowed and nodded, reaching over to get it off your hand without looking at you for long. He gestured for you to take a seat, and out of the many empty seats, you settled for the one that was adjacent to him. To be fair, it wasn’t that close to him, but it was the nearest.

He fixed you a serving of the tea he had left in his cabinet, and you began detailing all the progress notes the Foundation had sent about the caught Stand users and their Stands- From how they reacted when they woke up in confinement, to present user background, down to what their choice was moving forward after being apprehended.

Unfortunately for Jotaro, he was still hung up on his newfound realization that he felt some way or another toward you like a dam of denial and denseness had been demolished. While he did listen to every piece of information you said, he’d chalked up half of his attention to the way you spoke with dedicated professionalism and the way your eyes glinted and lips smirked whenever you were pleased sharing a piece of intel.

His body’s physiological state is going haywire yet again, and his head throbbed. He uncapped the hangover cure and drank the tonic in a feeble attempt to distract himself from the irritating ache and his thoughts. And if it couldn’t get any worse, he drank too fast and ended up choking in front of you.

“Woah, hey now. You okay?”

Jotaro coughed behind his hand and nodded, waving a hand to dismiss your concerns. “F-Fine. Just choked is all.”

You chuckled and closed the folder to set aside. “Maybe slow down when drinking any other beverage that’s not water. That technique always helps prevent another choking episode.”

His cheeks flared. “I know that. I’m not stupid, L/N,” he said and cleared his throat. “I was… busy thinking.”

“Busy thinking?” You smirked, leaning on your elbow with your head in your hand. “Or distracted with something else?” Jotaro glared at you and grumbled to himself. “About last night, perhaps?” That… and the many other things about you. None of that was said, but did he even have to when you already knew?

At his self-imposed frustration and bashfulness, your teasing smirk softened into a smile. “Believe me when I say you didn’t do anything stupid last night. Well, to me at least. If anything, I felt privileged when you showed me a window into who the man responsible for DIO’s defeat was. A sneak peek into who Jotaro Kujo is now.”

He remained silent, watching you with a somewhat touched expression on his face. “And I found that brief moment of vulnerability fascinating and worth knowing.” His heart raced a million miles per hour the more you shared your thoughts. The playful gleam was still in your eyes when you continued. “There was nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I…You…” Jotaro was at a loss for words. What could he say? You telling him this was enough for him to shy away from your gaze in a mess of tinted cheeks. He’s aware of what he needs behind the walls of nonchalance and outward strength, and for you to learn said needs because of several shots of whiskey?

It was almost overwhelming. “You were never meant to know all that. They’re just… wishful thoughts.”

“And what if I said I can help make those thoughts real?”

He paused and stared at you with surprise. “What… what do you mean?”

“Let me rephrase that.” You sipped the warm tea and set it down, your smile still on. “I’ve said we’re work partners, and that we should always have each other’s backs, through thick and thin. Even if we met under ordinary circumstances unrelated to work, I think I’d still hold the same sentiment toward you.”

“Your reservation and stoicism can be frustrating, yes. But looking past that,” You swirled the half-full cup and tilted your head to him. “You are a delight to be with, in all your subtle acts of service, sudden bouts of humor, and fierce loyalty to those you hold dear.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I like you, Jotaro Kujo, and if you allow it, I’d want to get to know you more.”

His eyes widened. All air had left his lungs from your casual confession, blood rushing to his cheeks as every organ in his body went into ecstatic overdrive.

He genuinely had nothing to say, stunned to silence. He had spent the entire morning- no, the past few months battling with his feelings about whether to act on his pining toward you, or toss it away so you wouldn’t feel obligated to tolerate the dangers that came from being with him.

Every moment of overthinking, insecurity, and unwarranted pining… washed away with that simple sentence.

At his lack of response, you chuckled. “Cat got your tongue?”

“I… ah…”

“Here… let’s put it this way then. How about, for one time, I take you out somewhere nice for dinner? Then you can decide if you want to continue our partnership,” you said, just like the first time he had met you. “Sound good?”

“Good grief. Here I thought I’d be the one initiating, but…” From the depths of his heart, his lips curled into a smile, and he softly laughed behind his hand. “Always the professional, even when asking me out on a date, huh?”

You laughed with him, a faint pink tint blooming in your cheeks. “Old habits die hard. You don’t seem to mind though.”

He shook his head. “No… I don’t.”

You held out a hand to him, your palm open for him to hold. “Well? I’m still waiting.”

Jotaro looked at your hand for a minute. There were still parts of his mind that kept whispering to him about being a burden to you and how he’d only be led to more suffering when the inevitable threats would strike you down. But your determined eyes and the passionate fire held within them responded to his anxieties with a firm:

“I can handle it. Trust me and I’ll protect us.”

At that, he huffed and smiled as he reached forward to hold your hand, his chest surprisingly light. “I didn’t regret accepting to be your colleague. I don’t think I’ll regret this either.”

“Then…” You smiled and gently held his hand with both of yours. “I’m looking forward to being your partner, Jotaro.”

He returned the sentiment with a smile and nodded once. “Likewise, Y/N.”

#and yes- Jotawife's name is Madelyn in my fics moving forward #jotaro x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba #jotaro kujo

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