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heeseung64 · 1 day ago

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THAT MOMENT,

he knew he'd fallen deep.

enha drabbles catching the realisation that they fell in LOVE love with you. how did it get this far?

enhypen getting caught or having realisations. hashtag i think about this alot dot dot dot.. hashtag why am i writting scenarios like.. have i lost the plot dot dot dot..

when heeseung knew,

• "she called me by my full name." he would anxiously word out to his friends, "she never calls me that! she's mad at me and i-"

• 'since when did i began to care whether or not she's mad at me?'

• 'since when was i okay with you calling me hee?'

• heeseung knew a fear evolved towards you, it was a fear that involved you losing any interest you had in him, and it only hit him when you were distancing yourself- something you'd never usually do.

• so when he saw you leave, distance yourself away, call him by his government name? god. he realised he was so madly in love and dependent on you. he was willing to throw away his pride.

• what he didn't expect himself to do, was show up at your door in the middle of night, after subconsciously driving to your place in the fleeting thought of thinking about you.

• what he didn't expect either, was to see you eagerly waiting for him, loose clothes, messy hair and a soft frown- pulling him in before the cold gets in.

•"y/n," he'd call, tugging at your sleeves as you try to leave another conversation he'd force to have with you. he'd frown and pout, apologising until you called him by his only nickname again.

• only, did he admit that there was no going back, was when he crashed his lips into yours, pleading to stay the night.

when sunghoon knew,

• he'd find himself giggling at EVERYTHING you'd do. its not even funny but he'd start smiling at you picking lint from your sweaters, or even humming at random times.

• "you really like that song huh?" sunghoon would smile at you, getting close to your face until you'd pry away from the proximity. "i like it.." you'd answer, and your small voice would stab literal wounds into his heart. god, you're the cutest, divine thing to ever step onto this earth and it gives him giddy feels.

• he often recorded you too, taking photos and posting on his story with captions only you would know- everyone practically believed he was taken.

• so when jake borrows his phone, sunghoon meets an epiphany of sorts.

• "dude, you need to free up your storage. its almost full of photos of your girlfriend."

• 'girlfriend?' "she's not my-" "she's not? well she is super pret-" "she is." "oh well she texted y-"

• sunghoon would clear his throat, stumbling on his words as he snatches his phone out of his friends reach. "don't look on my phone anymore, or at my.. girlfriend."

• you clearly weren't aware of this, but since then, he became shameless, labelling you as his- even as boldly as him announcing it in-front of you- to which, made him so in love with your blushed reaction.

when jay knew,

• when you pointed out his habit of buying duplicates of the same thing.

• two perfumes, two bags, two shirts.. they didn't need to be matching, but he always bought it in suspiciously sized you specifically..

• "i have a toothbrush.. jay.." you remind him, as he retracts the toothbrushes he offers back, shoving it back into the grocery bag- "i have that already." "i have that already-" "this one you gave me yesterday!" you would talk back to a wall as he just stands there, quiet as he just continues to stuff your hands with countless necessities (and useless expensive things).

• and when he found you doing the same thing when we was gone- did he realise how BAD he subconsciously does it, to the point you even picked it up.

• "i bought you-" you both say at the same time, retracting the statement while awkward silence hung as the cafe music played. you both exchanged matching keychains- and jay broke a smile- something he'd rarely do if you were looking.

• "for me?" he'd chuckle, holding back the biggest grin. "of course jay!" you'd smile, and all he could do was watch you cuddle the keychain, grinning like a maniac.

• 'fuck. i'm such an idiot for you.'

• he'd be wearing the things you got him, using them proudly like he's showing off his medals. "that's cute, where'd you get it from?" someone would ask, and he'd shut it downz

• "the place burnt down."

• "this item is the last ever produced."

• he's running out of excuses- not up until "his girlfriend got it for her." jungwon had to step in, frustrated at his act.

when jake knew,

• when you're constantly over at his place, not because he lets you- because he wants you.

• big and needy, he's always picking quality time and physical affection as his love language- and the fact that you're never saying no to his plea? best thing ever.

• layla pretty much sees you everyday- even prefers you over jake, and as much as he hates to admit it- he loves the fact that you have some sort of belonging in his home.

• he just didn't realise he loved you this much, not up until-

• "jake.." jay sits down jake, clearing his throat. "are you..? perhaps.. seeing someone?"

• "why?" and jake could only choke as jay had explained the amount of hair ties, women's clothing, makeup, skincare and all even bags would be seen organised at some places in his house - like you owned a portion of it.

• "that's just y/n's stuff." he'd casually say, acting it off cooly, only when jay would sneer, "y/n... right. does she know she has it here?" like he's some creep who would steal your belongings- and, he probably has totally done that. "w-we're not like that-"

• "i'm home-" you casually interrupt shutting the door behind you. you pause at the table, catching a red-eared jake and smirked up jay- only for him to clap- pointing at you. "yeah fucking right." chuckling to himself before leaving.

•"i figured i'd come chill for the night, if that's okay jakey?" you'd ask, and he abruptly stands, taking you to his room "y-yeah.. good. g-great even." he stammers, feeling his heart thump when you'd instantly lay on his lap. falling asleep instantly.

when sunoo knew,

• when small trips for coffee eventually became late night walks.

• small hangouts here and there became mini picnics every saturday, talking about life and updating each-other on nothing special.

• everything was a date even if he denied that it was. sunoo loved the idea of dates with you- but maybe you being so casual and outgoing was what made him think he wasn't special.

• wrong. he realised these hangouts were the only thing you looked forward to when he noticed your flustered face, slipping up on a sentence you were supposed to keep a secret.

• "yeah, we can try that pottery activity some other time, don't wanna bother you this month." sunoo hazily replies on facetime. he's nervous, waiting for a reaction even. he's watching your face in the corner of his screen subtly, catching you as you pout, frowning.

• "bother me? but i clear out all my schedules just to see you.."

• "i'm not just saying yes because you always chose me to hang with.. i want to be with.." you mumble the rest as if he didn't catch on, his eyes creasing into a little smile, as if you didn't just crash his heart into a wave of epiphany.

• sunoo FOLDS immediately.

• "okay how about tomorrow?"

• "what about today in fact? dinner..? stay there. i'll get you."

• now that you said you'd even ditch priorities for him- he's not backing out on any opportunity to be with you.

when jungwon knew,

• you would never this man's real intentions or feelings. neither would he. a real suppressor of emotion.

• not until you broke his facade, and he realised that he'd been denying that tug in his heart for way too long.

• jungwon, unaware, always held a face towards you that you can distinctly tell apart from the other, bubblier- friendlier faces he gives others.

• intense, he would look at you seriously all the time! it's like he holds his breath whenever you speak, looking dead into your eyes, brows stoic and angled. don't even get started on the way he MAULS the inside of his cheek, biting at it like he's holding his tongue from breathing near you.

• he's unaware of how he devours you under his eyes.

• AND OBVIOUSLY he doesn't mean to look mean! :( he just loves looking at you. a little too much. but only now did he realise how intense it was.

• "jungwon do you hate her?" heeseung- noticing every time- would talk quietly to jungwon, as if you didn't pick it up. jungwon's eyebrows twitched, whispering to heeseung who only chuckled in response. this fueled you to only doubt your closeness- and so instead,

• you put down your cute, doe-y and expressive attitude- just, once. experimenting if anything would change.

•so when jungwon talks to you, all you could do was stare, hum. mirroring whenever he looks at you.

• GOD HE PICKED UP YOUR BEHAVIOUR FIRST THING. ITs like he stammered his words.

• you see it in the way brows twitch, eyes shaking, the corner of his lips tilt in the slightest. and he's TRYING SO HARD not to show it. "yeah. but it's nothing special, so." you reply so shortly, petty, mad - like you're no longer interested. like you're no longer interested in him at all.

• 'shit.' 'what have i done?'

• IMMEDIATELY he finds himself around you, deciphering you like you were a puzzle he was meant to code. he looks at you with glossy eyes with every chance and interaction.

• "you look like you're scared of me." you confess your notice, and he gulps- "it's more than that.." he replies, and you instantly snap. "i don't like it when you look at me like.." "like what?"

• "like you hate me."

• face FALLEN. this man is crushed. he shakes his head- "nonono-" stuttering. "i'm sorry i just really looking at you a lot imsosososorry-"

• and he knows he can't lie. the truth is right there. his hands finding a way to snake around yours.

when niki knew,

• THIS MAN IS NOTTTT NONCHALANT

• this guy thinks he has it altogether. THINKS.

• that reality came crushing down when you gave him your scarf.

• "i'm not a fucking doll. stop dressing me up." he mumbles into your scarf as you wrap him up, giggling as his mouth gets covered by your scent.

• "whatever, if you didn't like it you would've had it off by now." you'd reply and niki would huff, sighing as if you were annoying. "i will." he'd LIE.

• "yeah right you baby. get home safe, stay warm." you say, cooing to him as you shut the door, watching from your bedroom window as you watch him walk down the street.

• instinctively you pulled out your phone to record, knowing at one point he'd BREAK.

• and there he was, running around poles in the street, skipping, dancing his feet across the pavement as his hands smeared your fluffy scented wool into his airways. his eyes squinting so hard as he smiles through your scarf, giggling and twirling like he's never had a bone of serious in his LIFE.

• "SHE CALLED ME BABY." "HOLY FUCK SHE SMELLS SO GOOD."

• this took you off guard, laughing off as you KNEW it had to be sent to the gc.

• riki did not give two damns about his phone blowing up, until the next day where the boys enter his room, bright and early in the morning.

• "of course you slept with it." sunghoon would laugh, clapping as the others join in.

• riki -confused and sleepy eyed- takes a hard long look at the video, his jaw unable to close, his ears red and steaming. his first instinct was to hide that damned scarf- only to be teased.

• niki knew he had it for you. the hots. the everything. the personality. everyone believed that you fell first, the way your bubbly personality was so effortlessly displayed with your crushing towards him.

• but deep down, he knew he fell to his knees the moment he met you.

• this was just the tipping point- he never knew he was this down bad..

• "we're never gonna let this moment die, sorry.." jake would chuckle, replaying the seconds where he'd sprint out of frame, tightening your scarf around his neck.

• 'you can keep it :3' you text him in the morning.

• '.. if that's okay with you.' he'd be trembling to text, stomach churning in hopes you'd act normally to him this morning.

____________________________________________________

perm:

@nikiswifiee @ancnymcnzjy @ja4hyvn @17ericas @hoonieyun @jellyluv4eva @wheretheheckis-ssaki @hyukabean

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sangunary · 1 day ago

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BatFam x Batsis Reader.

SYPNOSIS: Batsis is us.

The Whole Family Sitting Together To Discuss About Damian's Problem Of Chocking Criminals.

Dick: "It's against our moral to restrict their airflow... You're not going to listen huh."

Dick: "Reader, tell him why we don't chock people"

*Reader Standing Dramatically Near The Window Looking Out Into The Forest.*

Reader: "I once was just like you Dami... Chocking people out like it was a side hobbie"

Reader: "But... Damian, I realised that..."

*long pause.*

Reader: "That some people liked being choked"

Reader: "I learn it the hard way, he told me to chock him harder and ever since that day I haven't even have the gut to stare at anyone's neck for even a minute."

Dick: "You're just traumatizing him!"

*Damian haven't tried to chock out any person from that day... due to disgust.*

*Dick checking out the new upgrade Bruce made for the batmobile.*

Dick: "I don't see much change... It's just the belt is made from better leather and alot wider... Why is that?"

Bruce: "I've noticed that Reader like to rest their head on the belt and sleep, I assume it must be uncomfortable for her to sleep on so I've improved it."

Dick: "You couldn't add more seat but can improve the belt so that it would be more comfortable?. Your favouritism is showing clear as day, B!"

Bruce: "Priority."

*Superman Decided(Begged) to babysit you and now you're stuck with Luthor for some reason.*

Luthor: "What is so funny?"

*Reader on the ground laughing so hard that they are literally crying.*

Reader: "You got... the second sun on your head!"

Reader: "Ha! Is your ultimate power your baldness?!"

Luthor: "That isn't funny kid"

Reader: "How could you ever ambush anyone? Your shiny head is a dead giveaway!"

Reader: "I can see my reflection on your head!"

*Luthor always wear a hyper realistic wig near you to protect his ego.*

*Reader Got kidnapped by deathstroke.*

Reader: "Too scared to show your true face? How ugly are you?"

Deathstroke: "Im not here to entertain you, but I supposed I rather have you see my face before you die."

*Deathstroke taking off his mask.*

Reader: "HOLY SHIT... you're atrocious! Put that shit back... You should put trigger warning next time my PTSD almost activated!".

*Reader trying to show Tim how the mission should be done."

Reader: "See ain't that hard... Just following the plan invade, destroy, put away for the popo and explode"

*Tim reading the plan.*

Tim: "There is no explosion here... it's leave. The last step is leave."

Reader: "Oh, im dyslexic-"

*The villain hideout exploding on the background."

Tim: "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

Reader: "Can't a girl be dyslexic in peace?"

*Jason introducing Reader to his (gang) members.*

Jason: "This is my rat, sell drugs to her and I'll have your hands for decoration"

Reader: "Isn't that abit too much?"

Jason: "If you dare ask for drugs I will personally hang you from that celling."

Reader: "... Okay"

*Few days later. Reader being hang from the very celling.*

Reader: "I only did it to see if you actually would! I would never do drugs and you know that! Please take me down from here! I think there's cockroaches up here!"

Jason: "Well, you're going to be part of the celling unless you rethink about your life decisions!"

Roy: "How can a mere human hang another human that high up?"

Jason: "Raw Disappointment".

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 days ago

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@waynes-multiverse

Hi Wayne!! I was so excited to see your wonderful feedback 💚 I'm also very sorry this took me so long because April was long and May is already starting to spiral 😅

Aww, he’s already saving her. Why do I think that means something? 😂

Maybe.... 😉

Of course he did. Ben really always knows how to talk to the ladies 🙈

I know. He's soooooo charming isn't he? Doesn't he know just what to say to make a woman swoooonnn? 😒

Ooooh I’m sensing he doesn’t want her to walk home alone either. Someone already seems to have caught a little bit of feelings 😏

Pssshhhh... Girl, What? That's crazzzyyyy? Why would SB ever have feelings?

And I love that we have the same HC, Lee! I totally believe too that SB would just obnoxiously stare at a girl he likes – to the point it gets a little weird – and then cover it up with whatever stupid line comes to his mind lmao

Aww yay! I love that too! I honestly believe that the staring would be so uncomfortable- but he's just a baby (not for realsies but a baby when it comes to feelings LOL 🤣) and he doesn't know how to say what he's feeling! Well, doesn't know how to say what he's feeling in a healthy way 😭

Yep 💯 I’m already scared what Kripke will do to him in S5. At one point, is fanfic writers will have a hard time to redeem him 😅

Oh my word- ME TOO! I'm so scared that he's really gonna take him to the unredeemable place... I also feel like SB is gonna do something really bad in Vought Rising too and I'm frightened 😅 BUT that is what's fanfiction is for LOL

Ooooh? 👀 I’m guessing this is the finale at Vought Tower. I’m curious to see how you changed that ending. I always found that super hard due to Ryan (unless we pretend that kid was never there, which I’m fine with lol)

You're right! It is the finale at Vought Tower! 🤗 I don't go into too too much detail on that, but pieces of it are sprinkled through the fic 🥰 AND yes! For me it's kinda hard to write around the finale, because it's pretty set in stone. And I always give Ben the same job after in all my fics 😅 But it's funny because I just realized that I never mention Ryan in this fic at all 🤣 Whoops? Guess I forgot the brat LOL! But yes, let's just pretend he wasn't there 🤣

Oh, burn 😂

I was so proud of that zinger let me tell you 🤣

And I absolutely love her powers btw!!! 😍🌿🪴 Can I tell you a secret? My favorite superhero powers have always been either time or plant powers 😂💚

YES! Plant powers and earthbending powers are my favorite (time travel is super cool too)! I thought it was such a travesty that we haven't seen a plant supe in the Boys yet. I've got my fingers crossed for S5- if they do it justice 🤞🏻

Awwww, I hope she gets it 🥹 I honestly wanna give her a big hug. She sounds a little lonely (but maybe that won’t stay this way for long 😏)

She does deserve that though! I too wanted to give her a big hug when I was writing this. But I'm also happy you highlighted this little snippet, because that's a theme through this entire series. It comes up quite a lot 😅

And that high school boyfriend sounded like a real winner 🙄 (But good for her for locking that douche in a tree lol!!!)

Oh he was terrible 😒

Ah yes! Every woman’s worst nightmare 🙈 I’d be scared shitless for her, but knowing she has superpowers helps immensely with the anxiety. And I have a weird feeling SB will pop up, too, because he still didn’t want her walking home alone because he *cares* 😏💚 (That’s probably a curse word for him lol) And seriously, her powers are so freaking cool!!! 😍💚🪴🌿

Yep. The dreaded walk home 🫣 Oh yeah, definitely, the powers make it a little bit better, but still writing it I was anxiety city. I'm dead at "*cares* 😏💚 (That’s probably a curse word for him lol)" 🤣🤣 It's SO true- the one curse word he won't say.

Knew it!!!! Oh, Ben aren’t you just a fucking softie inside… Why you gotta be like this? 😂🙈💚

He's a big ol' softie- with a black heart of gold LOL. And I just had to drop in the touch her and die trope... because I can't be stopped. It's compulsion at this time point.

Also I love modern family, so watching Gloria beat up Jay like that on the gif was wonderful 💗

Oh, of course! Why am I not surprised, huh, Ben? 😏

He might have been taking a bigger interest in her well-being than he wanted to admit lol.

I’m sorry – you were gonna say? Before what, hmm? Oh, he’s already a complete goner, isn’t he? 😅💕 And of course he gave her an excuse and won’t admit to shit. A stroll? That’s what he’s going with. Who will buy that, Ben? You don’t look like the typical 2am stroller in the rain 😝 And it’s obvious he likes and that she’s at least attracted to his face when his mouth stays closed, but I’m honestly so fucking excited and curious to see how he will pull this off and win her over 👀 And I love his fucking argument of his attempt on her life being already a month ago 🤣🤣 Like bro, it ain’t the magic sentence you think it is lmao

Mhmm, man is already smitten.

Oh definitely... Ben always strolls in the middle of the night in the pouring rain. Doesn't everybody? No? LOL.

She is "attracted to his face when his mouth stays closed" 🤣☠️! I'm excited that you're excited to see how he wins her over! It is a wild ride, I'll say that much without saying too many spoilers lol.

And you're right, Ben is really out here like- it was a month ago, get over it! HE TRIED TO KILL HER! 🤣

Ugh, I hate when he’s a little right 🙄

He is. The one thing about the current century he understands 🤣

Whyyyyy, Benjamin?? Why are you like this? 😩

The toxic masculinity really coming in clutch at this point lol

Because dicks are hard 😏 I see myself out…

Actual footage of when I read this 👆🏻 GIRL STAWPPP, I'M DEAD 🤣🤣

Pffff, this is honestly so cute 😆💕 Yes, you use that excuse, gramps lol

I mean... imagine how awkward that is. THE POWER flickers! And Ben has supe hearing! I mean he's a little bit of a pervert, but I don't think he enjoys hearing that LOL.

Oh, Mike, you poor soul… 😂 And the fact that Butcher mocks him and he’s just oblivious to it all. Seriously poor guy lmao And of course, he was immediate cannon fodder for SB 🙈😆 But it says a lot when even Hughie had a hard time being nice to him lol But honestly, as much as she hated it, SB peacocking as her boyfriend probably gave Mike the rest. I was laughing so hard during that entire exchange 😂

The poor Mike trope is gonna trend this whole fic. Just wait til you meet Jake 🤣 And I know! Mike is one of those people who is just too precious for this world and he doesn't understand social cues like that 😭

Yep. The IMMEDIATE targeting system Ben has when he sees men who might be a little awkward and not so good around the ladies 🤣 I'm still cackling at "cannon fodder"- I love that usage here. BUT yeah, if Hughie is having a hard time then it must be almost impossible.

And yay! I'm glad you liked the exchange (peacocking LOL). It was my favorite part of this chapter- just the awkwardness and Ben being teasing and just (sexy) annoying.

Oh God 🫠🫠🫠 What I’d give to make out with this asshole 😩 (Probably had to give up feminism lol)

Ah yes, the day feminism took a vacation. I think I've seen that special, just like the "The Year Without A Santa Claus." 🤣 But oh yeah, my feminism would have to just shut it's eyes and put noise canceling headphones on.

Dead. I’m wheezing over here, Lee!!! 🤣🤣

Okay, hear me out. I love Mike's mother. She is literally my favorite side character in this entire fic. And she's just so wild, so unhinged (she's all of us). The more you see her in this fic, the funnier it is.

I’m sorry, my boy… but when exactly did we let you move in? God, he’s so fucking obnoxious sometimes 😂 So that’s his plan winning her over? Forced proximity? Why am I not surprised this is the best he could come up with. He probably thinks the Stockholm syndrome will help with his flirting lmao

Not the Stockholm syndrome 🤣🤣🤣 He really is obnoxious and the reader is just an inch away from throwing him off the roof!

I absolutely love that her apartment is full of plants!!! Total boho vibes 😍🌿 But hey, how neat! If they ever get together, she can grow weed for him 😆

Yes! Her apartment is the dream. I love plants so much- I have them all over my house so it was just so wonderful to write a reader like that 💚 And it's funny that you mention weed...

Gaaaah, I’m so hooked! I love their dynamic and can’t wait to see if she gives him a chance, and what he’ll do or how he’ll change to deserve it!!! Such a fantastic start to this series! 💚💚💚 And sorry for not getting here sooner or checking in with you more this month, friend! April was a little rough and I’m still majorly catching up with everything, but I’m so glad I finally get to read this wonderful series 🥰

Yay!! I'm so happy you like this one! It is again, another fic that was supposed to just be one chapter, but I fell in love with the reader and Ben and got turned into a series 😅

And oh no! Please don't apologize! I'm so sorry that I've been awol and haven't been able to read Time After Time! I loved the first chapter so much and I've just been running around like a chicken with it's head cut off for April and it's starting up again for May 😭 But it was so wonderful to read you comments friend! I hope that May is better for you than April 💗

Chapter 1: Are You Always Like This?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you’re around him the more you hate him, but you can’t help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Implied/Eventual), Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Fake Dating

Word Count: 7.4 K (OOPS)

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+/Mature because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension, violence. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: I know I know, I should be working on "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love," but this idea was swirling around in my head and I had to write it.

Spotify Playlist 🪴

Masterlist

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

"Alright Butcher, I'm done." You sigh closing the file in front of you and standing from the worn wooden table covered in empty Chinese food containers and stacks of papers almost as tall as you. "If I read another word about trying to stop an electrical current, I'm going to commit toaster bath and I'm taking you with me."

It was late, past two in the morning, but Butcher had a lead on a B-list supe that had been using his electrical powers to steal cars and run a chop shop business downtown. You had been close to catching him yesterday, so close in fact that your eyebrows were still a little crispy from when he shot a bolt of lightning at your face that you only dodged in the nick of time when Soldier Boy grabbed the back of your shirt and yanked you out of the way. Unfortunately, your shirt hadn't survived, it had ripped and you spent the rest of the day wearing one of Butcher's oversize Hawaiian shirts all the while Soldier Boy told you that it was a waste to keep a pretty little figure like yours covered up.

I hate him so much.

When Butcher had initially asked you to join his team a month ago you were excited, but then you found out that you were going to be stuck with Soldier Boy. The supe, that despite Annie's arguments should be given back to the government and put on ice, was allowed to join Butcher's team after he took down Homelander. Who was currently frozen on ice, somewhere. As long as Homelander was far from you, you didn't care. The guy gave you the creeps.

But the team still couldn't figure out where the electricity manipulating supe was hiding or where he was dropping the cars, which meant you had spent the past twelve hours staring at files and a computer screen so hard that you felt like your brain going to melt out of your ears.

"Do whatever ya want kid. I'm not ya damn babysitter." Butcher grunts, his face hidden behind his own file. His boots were on the table and he was leaning back in his chair so far that you were tempted to tip him over, all it would take was a good solid kick.

You smile at him. Butcher was adept at pretending that he didn't want you around, of course you knew how antsy he got when you weren't there to offer your opinion. You figured that he just liked pushing people away and given his history you understood that.

Annie sits up from where she and Hughie are cuddling on the couch. "Why don't you stay?" Her brow furrows with worry. Annie was big on the whole, "women not walking at home alone at night thing," which normally you didn't, but you figured that whatever was waiting outside the apartment was probably less intimidating than Homelander. And you could handle it.

"Because I'd like to sleep in my own bed tonight and not that godforsaken rickety cot in the corner that Frenchie got. Can't stand that one spring that always seems so happy to see me." You pull your leather jacket off of the back of the chair and whirl it around your shoulders, before bringing your hair out from under the collar.

Hughie snorts.

"Hey, that cot is an antique!" Frenchie crows from his highbacked chair spewing a mouthful of smoke into the air. Kimiko was sitting at the coffee table in front of him working on her writing, a thick black marker clutched in her hand. MM was taking the night off, but you thought he was probably trying to avoid Soldier Boy.

"Yeah well, that cot is about as old as grandpa over there." You gesture to where Soldier Boy is sitting in another one of the armchairs in the corner watching you while puffing on a joint.

He was always watching you and due to your inability to read his mind it made it difficult for you to gauge what he was thinking, but you assumed that it was the usual macho crap he spouted 100% of the time. But he wasn't checking you out, well this time he wasn't. You had caught him staring at your butt more than once, and he'd made several comments about exactly what he'd like to do to you, but right now an emotion glimmered behind his eyes that you couldn't place.

Soldier Boy stands from the chair. He was wearing a dark t-shirt that stretched over his chest and a pair of blue jeans that fit him just right, well, if you were looking at that. You were, but it was easier to pretend that you weren't. It was easier to pretend that he wasn't the most attractive man you'd ever seen in your life.

Damn it, why does someone so attractive have to be such a dick?

"A lady like you shouldn't be walking home alone this late." He frowns at you.

"Like me?" You arch an eyebrow.

"Good thing she ain't a lady." Butcher chuckles at his joke

You punch him hard on the arm, not enough to break it, but enough to make it hurt.

“Bloody hell woman.” Butcher rubs his sore bicep shooting you an angry look.

Not many people could look intimidating while wearing a Hawaiian shirt, but Butcher pulled it off. Not many people looked good in a Hawaiian shirt either, but Butcher pulled that off too.

"I'm serious." Soldier Boy's eyes narrow.

"Oh now you're so chivalrous?" You cock your hip to the side, planting your hands on your hips. "Didn't you try to kill me last month?"

"To be fair, you were trying to kill me-"

"Because you were trying to kill Annie. Where was the chivalry when you tried to tear me apart with your bare hands?"

"There are plenty of other things I'd like to do to you with my bare hands sweetheart." His grin turns wolfish. "I'd be happy to show you sometime, perhaps you'd like some company?"

"I'd rather spend an hour with that ancient spring than roll around with you." You tap your lip thoughtfully. “Then again I’m sure that cot is the same age as you and it can at least get it up.”

Annie muffles a snort behind her hand.

“Last time I checked everything was working, perhaps you’d like to see for yourself?” Soldier Boy smirks.

"Can't you keep in your pants for once?" Butcher sighs, tilting the file downward to glare at Soldier Boy.

You can't help but smile at Butcher's response. Butcher might have tried to push you away, but even you could see his protective instincts. That became wildly apparent whenever you went out on a mission alone and although you would think that it was annoying for someone to think they needed to protect you, in Butcher's case you made an exception.

Soldier Boy rolls his eyes. "She shouldn't walk home alone."

You wave your hand over the wilting fern on the kitchen counter, eyes shifting to green for a moment as it perks up. It was the only plant in the house and although six people lived in this apartment, not one ever remembered to water it. "And you shouldn't butt into my business."

Soldier Boy opens his mouth to speak, but Annie interrupts his train of thought.

"Wait y/n. Coffee tomorrow?" Annie asks ignoring them. She's sitting up from the couch, her body turned towards you with both of her hands on the back cushions.

She was one of your best friends, well, really one of your only friends. You'd grown up together and when Annie moved to New York you had decided to move and take some college classes in the city while you worked at a small garden shop after class part time.

The owner still couldn't figure out why nothing you cared for seemed to die.

You usually kept your status as a supe on the down low, and only used your powers when you really had to, which wasn't often before you joined Butcher's team. You'd only lasted two semesters before Annie came to ask you for help finding Soldier Boy and after that, Butcher asked you to join his team for shit pay. You accepted but you still worked at the garden shop part-time, also for terrible pay, but you loved it there.

Your powers made it easy to make sure nothing died and sometimes it felt like home being surrounded by plants. Caring for them was the one thing you seemed to be good at, and sometimes they felt like family.

You didn't have much family left, beside your grandmother and your older brother who still lived back in Des Moines, and sometimes it was lonely in the city. Annie was the only person who you'd been able to connect with since you moved, and now that you weren't going to classes the friends you made in college didn't really understand what you were doing with your life.

And telling them "oh I hunt down supes for a living and sometimes kill them" didn't really sound like something you could say in passing. It also did wonders for your dating life… NOT.

"Sorry babe, I'm at the shop tomorrow. But I'm off at 3 if you want to get coffee after?" You hold open the front door of the apartment, looking back at her expectantly.

You hated blowing Annie off, especially since the two of you hadn't been able to hang out outside of missions mostly because she was spending all her time with Hughie.

"Sounds great!" She beams.

And with that you disappear out down the hallway and into the night.

It's raining as you walk down the desolate streets. Cars splash water over the gum covered sidewalks that soaks through your tennis shoes and makes every step against the ground squish. But you ignore it.

You usually loved when it rained, loved to feel the cooling water pool against your skin, loved to hear the soft patter of it against the windows of your apartment, loved the earthy smell that came with the drops, but not tonight. You were still thinking about Soldier Boy.

You don't know why you let him get under your skin so much. You'd met men like him in the past and it was usually easy for you to brush them off, but not him.

I mean yes he is gorgeous, and maybe kind of charming when he's not trying to get into my pants, but I don't want just a one night fling. I want what Annie and Hughie have.

You think about your best friend and her loving boyfriend. You tried not to be jealous, but it was hard when the last time you had a lasting relationship was your first boyfriend back in high school who, when he found out you were a supe, was only interested if you had the power to shape shift into someone 'a little more busty.' The relationship ended with you locking him in a tree and the fire department having to come cut him out. He was fine, maybe a little more green than a normal person, but...

You'd heard that he got a job from the Green Giant Vegetable Company doing cameos as the Jolly Green Giant. So if anything, you helped him have a career?

Annie and Hughie were both head over heels in love with each other, knew everything about each other, didn't have any secrets, and it wasn't just sex, it was a close relationship with someone else who understood every part of you. You wanted that; and as much as you had avoided relationships in the past due to your supe status, you still hoped to find a supe that was kind and didn't think that they were a god for what they could do.

Why do so many have a god complex?

You think again about Soldier Boy. That wasn't the first time he had tried to coax you into bed and it wouldn't be the last, that was for sure. At first you had hoped that he would give up, it had been a month since you'd met, but he was still going strong, despite having a different woman in that apartment almost every night.

Maybe he's just really horny after being trapped in a lab all these years. Then again- You remember all the articles you read about him from the 80s, the ones that recorded his numerous escapades and think about his founding of Herogasm.

Maybe he's always like that, but he never comes on to Annie or Kimiko, only me. And I've threatened castration multiple times. You'd think he would care more about that than anything else.

You consider with a frown, clutching your jacket tighter around you. Rain trickled down from your hair and under the collar of your jacket to soak into your t-shirt. Your once light blue jeans were soaked to a dark navy with the amount of water that splashed up from the road and dripped down your back. For the first time in forever, you wished that it wasn't raining.

Probably should have just gotten a cab, but it's so expensive and-

"Hey baby." Someone calls from behind you.

Can't I just walk home without being hit on? One time?

"Not interested." You shout back, continuing to squish down the cracked sidewalks.

Three shadows peel off the wall of shops to your left blocking your path forward. Each is wearing a dark colored hoodie hiding their faces from view.

Is my luck really this bad? I never hear about Annie getting mugged or Hughie. And Hughie definitely looks wimpier than me.

"Don't be like that baby." The man behind you says.

You half turn your body so you can see all your supposed attackers at once. There are actually two men behind you, both wearing similar hoodies to the three now standing on your right.

Oh look they color coordinated their outfits… cute.

The man opens his mouth again.

"I'm gonna stop you right there." You hold up a finger. "I've been dealing with a horny 104 year old geriatric man all day long. Please don't push me right now." It was an attempt to warn them, but you knew they probably wouldn’t listen to you.

No one ever does.

"Sounds like you need someone to relax with." The man smirks steeping forward to grab your arm. "I'd be happy to ease some of that tension baby."

"Look. I'm going to give you a chance to walk away. To avoid making one of the biggest mistakes of your life. Because honestly you all have the worst luck in the world." You jerk your arm away from him.

"I like em feisty.” He purrs stepping forward again while the others laugh. “Come on baby-“

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. You grab him around the throat, lifting him in the air like he weighs nothing, your eyes beginning to glow a brilliant green.

“I did try to warn you.”

"She's a supe!" He shouts struggling against your grip.

You throw him backwards into the other man standing to your right before facing the men on your left. Each one has pulled out a knife preparing to rush towards you.

"I get it. Y’all are out late, you bought matching outfits, but do we really have to-“

The first one rushes you, waving his knife through the air in a frantic dance. He doesn't get the chance to make contact with your arm. Vines erupt out of the pavement, breaking through the cracks in the concrete, binding themselves around the man who lets out a savage cry, quickly silenced while the vines continue to wrap around his body until there's nothing left but a mass of struggling green foliage on the pavement and some muffled screams.

He's lucky, could have had him dragged back under ground.

His friends stand there for a moment, eyeing one another as if they're not sure what just happened. You can practically see them trying to decide if you're still worth the trouble.

“Anyone else?”

The battle that follows is swift, the sound of cracking bones and the soft thud of punches landing echo over the soft patter of rain in the night as you dodge their blows and land your own against them. The vines continue to spread outward snatching up the men who fall to the ground in front of you, dragging each one up the street light above that sends yellowed light over the desolate streets. By now each bound body hangs from above like a sack of meat in a meat cooler, moving with the struggling men inside while the muffled cries shatter the still silence of the night.

Sometimes it's really too easy.

And as you begin to turn back someone grabs you by the hair, yanking you into their sweaty embrace. The leader's hot breath sticks to your cheeks, the cool metal of his switchblade pressing down so hard on your throat that you feel the pinprick of blood begin to form under the tip.

“What are you gonna do now bitch?” He snarls in your ear.

"Give you one more chance to surrender." You spit.

Like I'm going to give him the satisfaction of me begging for my life.

"I'm gonna enjoy this-" The man begins to say, pressing the knife deeper into your throat, but the rest of his sentence is cut off with a strangled cry as he's pulled away from you.

What the hell just-

You turn around, freezing in shock.

Soldier Boy is crouching there in his t-shirt, jacket, and jeans over the man who just had a knife to your throat. His fist rising and falling as he punches the man in the face.

"Don’t you ever touch her." Soldier Boy snarls. His fist is already covered in blood, the man’s face a mass of bloodied tissue and bone.

"Stop you're going to kill him-" You run forward to stop Soldier Boy, but he doesn't stop even when you try to grab on to his hand.

"I said STOP." You shout louder, this time manipulating a vine to wrap around Soldier Boy's arm and restrain it.

Fuck he might already be dead.

"Let me go." Soldier Boy's eyes narrow. The usual green was replaced by a darkened pit with his rage. You'd only ever seen him this mad a handful of times, one of which was when the supe tried to zap you like a fly in one of those insect traps two days ago.

Why is he angry?

"I'm not going to let you go, until you promise not to kill him."

"I should." He snarls back at you.

"What are you talking about?"

He stands from the body, eyeing the last attacker who runs full speed down the sidewalk and vanishes into the darkness. "I should kill him for trying to hurt you." Soldier Boy says simply.

You wave your hand allowing the vine to let go of his arm. "Where do you come off so high and mighty? You literally tried to kill me last month."

"That was before I-" He shakes his head angrily, eyes still blazing.

"Look I don't need you to protect me. Given what I've had to deal with all day I was looking forward to kicking some ass."

"You did." He smirks nodding his head in the direction of the men hanging from the streetlamp above you. “I just thought that you were outnumbered.”

"Why are you here?" You sigh pinching the bridge of your nose.

"I wanted to go for a stroll." Soldier Boy shrugs. He flexes his hand, before wiping the blood on the front of the sweatshirt of the man on the ground.

"Uh-huh. Well I don't need you to protect me." You say again, crossing your arms over your chest. "I had this handled."

"You sure doll?"

"Look I get it- you think that you're some knight in shining armor because you have this macho complex. But I'm fine on my own." You begin to step around the bodies of the men on the ground moving in the direction of your apartment, but Soldier Boy follows you.

"Where do you think you're going?" You turn to look at where he falls into step beside you.

"You shouldn't be walking home alone."

"Well you're sure as hell not going home with me."

His lip turns up in a smirk, towering over you. Soldier Boy is easily a foot taller than you, so broad that it's impossible to look past his imposing figure. It would be attractive if he wasn't so damn annoying. "Come on sweetheart, I know you want me to go home with you." He purrs with a smile. "I think you'd really enjoy it if I did. And I'll even let you tie me up with those pretty vines of yours." Ben leans in towards your face and you take a step back.

"Hard pass. So what? Is this your big move? Acting all chivalrous just to get a woman into bed with you?"

"That depends, is it working?"

"No. Now go back to the apartment, before I send you there in pieces." You turn back to squish down the sidewalk at a faster pace, hoping he will get a hint and leave you alone. But you knew he wouldn’t stop. He practically thrived on teasing you, had been the bane of your existence since you met him. And nothing seemed to dissuade him.

"What is your problem with me?" He jogs to catch up. "And don't say that it's because I tried to kill you, that was last month-"

"I think that's applicable to this week and the week after that and the week after that." You count out with every finger to further emphasize your point, but you know that Soldier Boy won't give up that easy.

"Are you always this fucking angry?" He almost laughs.

"I don’t know. Are you always this fucking annoying?" You turn to face him narrowing your eyes.

Soldier Boy chuckles at your look, running a hand through his hair that has darkened in the spray of water, his green eyes watching you curiously. They were shinning now, not the blacked pits of hate they were when he was beating the guy two minutes ago. For a second, just for a second, you see how handsome he is all over again.

"Come on, give me a real answer and I'll leave you alone." He's smiling at you now, giving you one of those boyish grins that, if it were anyone else, would make your heart stop.

He just wants sex. He doesn't care about you. He won't ever care about you. Breathe.

"Fine." You sigh. "You might say you're a supe, but you're not a hero. People like you and Homelander, you don't care about anyone but yourself. You use your powers for you and on your own terms. You were going to kill that guy-" You gesture back towards where the body is still on the ground, the man's heart beat is dangerously low.

"He was threatening you. A thank you might be nice." Soldier Boy's cheeks flush as he glares down at you with darkened eyes, his anger surging back in his chest.

"Yes he was threatening me, but I'm okay and you could have just taken him to jail. You didn't have to beat his face in."

"So you're saying if he had been attacking someone else you wouldn't have done the same?"

"I would have subdued him and then waited for the police to get there. The men hanging from the streetlight aren't dead. We aren't the law-"

"Right so those guys can get off with a warning and then go on and do the same thing over and over again." He scoffs rolling his eyes at you.

"It doesn't give you the right to kill them."

"I suppose you don't believe in the death penalty either."

"I believe in the death penalty Gramps. I just don't believe it is our job to carry it out." Your temper was flaring against your skin distracting you from the chill of the rain as it soaked into your clothes.

"Do you have any idea how many women would love to be saved by me?" Soldier Boy asks. He shakes his head as if he can't understand you.

You didn't blame him, most people didn't, that was why you spent most of your time alone.

"I'm not one of them. So leave me alone." You turn to go.

Honestly, why is this the kind of guy I attract? You roll your eyes to yourself. Oh you mean, tall, dark, handsome, gorgeous- The other little voice in your head whispers in your ear. NO. You tell yourself. Please I just want one guy who's not a total dick. Why is that so hard?

"I still don't think it's a good answer." He huffs.

"Of course you don't." You roll your eyes and begin to walk again. The streetlamps above send an eerie yellow glow over the parked cars along the road and over the crackled pavement. If Soldier Boy wasn't here bothering you, you might have stopped to admire the water as it splashed underneath the suspension bridge beyond the crowded buildings, but you wanted to get home. Without him if possible.

You glance over at Soldier Boy again. He looks normal right now, always does when he's not wearing his suit. And when he shut up you could see why people were so in love with him. It was when he opened his mouth that it reminded you exactly why you didn't like him.

You stop in front of your apartment building and force yourself to smile. "Thank you for walking me home." You say through tight lips, hoping that the false sincerity will make him leave.

He gazes up at your building with a frown. "This is a pretty shitty apartment building."

"Thank you. Not all of us inherited millions of dollars from our parents."

He pauses for a moment continuing to look up at the building, before he sighs loudly. "Look, I-." He sighs again. "I can't take listening to Annie and Hughie fucking. They go at it every night and she always makes the power go off."

You knew that already. It was another reason why you didn't like staying at the apartment, because listening to your best friend get railed by her boyfriend was not your idea of a good time.

You look up at Ben, and for a second you see a glimmer of the truth, just a flash of something that wasn't like the misogynistic attitude he usually had and it made you pause. He almost looked, sad and it made you feel bad for him. Of course you felt bad for him before, when you found out his entire team just gave him away to be experimented on and when probably the woman that he'd come the closest to loving really didn't care about him at all.

It must be incredibly lonely to come back to a world where almost everyone you know is dead. Guilt builds in your chest at the thought. I had lost my fair share of people, but not everyone in my life and I certainly didn’t learn about it on the same day.

"You know I think that's the first honest thing you've ever said to me." You say quietly shifting from foot to foot.

He half-smiles. "Maybe."

You chew on the inside of your cheek considering. You weren't afraid of him. You knew that with your powers you could take him. You were stronger than most and harder to kill. And despite the bad things you thought about him and knew about him, you kinda thought he was relatively harmless, well, you didn't think he was a rapist.

"Fine. But you're staying on the couch. And if I wake up and you're anywhere near my bedroom, I'll castrate you." You warn as walk up to the front doors and type in the code to unlock them, with Soldier Boy following behind you.

When you make it to the third floor, you raise one hand to stop him from going any further. It falls against his muscular chest and you fail trying not to admire how it feels beneath your hand.

Why am I so thirsty?

"If you wanted to grab my chest doll, all you had to do was ask-" Soldier Boy begins to say, but you raise the hand to cover his mouth.

"Shh." You hiss. "We have to be quiet or Mike will come out-"

"Who?" He asks, muffled against your hand.

You hear a door down the hallway creak open, spilling yellowed light onto the dark blue carpet of the hallway. "Shit. Too late."

Mike steps out of his apartment with a wide smile as soon as he sees you. "HEY y/n!" He crows, waving his free hand enthusiastically. "I didn't know you were getting in so late, but I wanted to give you this." Mike holds out a giant casserole dish filled with something that you can't identify. It's multi colored with multiple layers, one of which looks suspiciously like rice and the next layer looks like cake.

There's no way I'm eating that. Maybe if I force feed it to Soldier Boy he'll leave me alone.

Mike was your neighbor, your neighbor who had lived next door to you for the past 2 years and was shamelessly in love with you. And as sweet as he was, there were a few things that you couldn't get past, most namely that he lived with his mother and that he had a mullet.

One time you'd had a nightmare about it ripping itself from his head, breaking in to your apartment, and smothering you in your sleep.

Not fun.

"Hey Mike." You smile tightly at him, dropping your hand from Soldier Boy's mouth. "Yeah I'm sorry I was out with some friends."

"You should have asked me to come! I love your friends." Mike smiles so wide you're afraid that it's going to break his face. “Especially Butcher. He’s so funny. Always joking-"

Poor Mike.

Every time that Butcher had come over to talk shop, he would mock Mike endlessly. And Mike was just too sweet to realize it. Hughie was the only one who actively tried to be nice to Mike, but even he found it difficult. Annie was the worst though, she'd tease you constantly about what your children would look like and had taken to photoshopping mullets onto pictures of babies and sending them to you at inopportune times.

"Maybe next time." You cough out an awkward laugh while Soldier Boy snorts behind you.

You continue down the hallway towards your apartment, the door next to his, and hope that he'll go back into his home, but no such luck.

“My mom made this for you!” He holds the dish out towards you.

“Oh um that’s so nice of her. But I can’t except that-“

Mike's mother comes to stand in the doorway of their shared apartment. She was wearing a bright purple Mumu, her makeup caked thickly on her face and her eyes accentuated with bright blue eye shadow. “Sure you can sweetie. You’re Mike’s special friend.” She winks before trailing her eyes up and down your body. “And you’ve got such a cute little figure.” His mother does a little shimmy as if trying to get you to do the same.

Kill me now.

“That’s what I keep telling her.” Soldier Boy purrs behind you.

“Don’t make me kill you.” You mutter back, knowing full well he can hear you with his super-hearing.

Oddly enough Mike does look suspiciously like his mother, they are both the same height, exactly three inches under you, and have the same mullet, but hers is a shocking blue-gray and his is jet black.

He blushes at her words. “Aww mom.”

Soldier Boy muffles a laugh before disguising it into a cough. You elbow him hard in the stomach.

“Well thank you.” You take the casserole dish with one hand, hoping that you can open the door and usher Soldier Boy in before he makes a comment. "I've had a long day and it's really late-"

“I helped her make this one.” Mike interrupts scooting closer to you, so close that you get a lungful of his terrible cologne, the one that the super sells for four dollars and smells like baby powder and Cheez-its.

“A man who can do it all.” Soldier Boy whispers to you.

Mike looks above your head as if noticing Soldier Boy for the first time. “Who’s that? I thought I knew all your friends.”

“He’s certainly very handsome-“ Mike's mother blushes from the doorway.

“Your brother?” Mike offers.

You can see his expression turn hopeful.

Probably thinking about how he can become friends with "said brother" and that will escalate our "relationship."

“I’m Ben.” Soldier Boy says, stepping around you to shake Mike’s hand. “I’m y/n's boyfriend.”

Your cheeks bloom a bright pink, unable to respond to the ridiculous statement that he just made.

Murder. That's what sounds good right now.

“Oh.” Mike’s face falls. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” His eyes flick back to you, disappointment swimming in the irises.

You watch Mike’s hope begin to circle the drain.

“Well actually-“ You begin, but Soldier Boy interrupts you.

“Sorry I’ve been out of town for a while. We've been trying to do this long distance thing- you know how it is, late night phone calls-“ Ben trails off with a wolfish grin before dropping an arm around your shoulders. “But I just couldn’t take the long distance. Missed her too much. Phone call isn’t the same as sleeping in the same bed. Definitely not as satisfying. Not to mention there’s only so much my hand can do.”

Your cheeks bloom an even brighter red at his insinuation. That’s when Soldier Boy does something even more unforgivable, he pulls you tighter against him and kisses you right there in front of Mike and his mother. The kiss is searing, making everything in your mind go blissfully blank. It had been so long since someone kissed you, since someone had held you this close to them without trying to kill you. His tongue teases your bottom lip and before you can stop yourself you open your mouth wider to let him in sighing softly against his lips, while you grip the front of his jacket.

For a moment you can’t remember why you didn’t want him to kiss you, why you denied yourself of this for so long. And then Soldier Boy's hand slides from your back to grab a handful of your ass.

Right.

You slap him so hard across the face that you're sure it would have broken the cheekbone of anyone who wasn’t a supe.

But Soldier Boy only grins wider, squeezing your butt again. “She knows that I like it a little rough.” He turns his lazy gaze back to Mike.

You open your mouth to cuss him out.

“Well we should probably get going.” Soldier Boy breezes. “Probably going to be a long night. If you know what I mean. But we’ll try to keep it down. Then again my girl's a little loud.” He winks at your poor neighbor who looks like he might cry, while his mother stands behind him fanning herself like Soldier Boy is everything she wants in a man.

He's ten for ten with the older ladies I'll say that.

“Oh right. Well I guess I’ll see you around y/n.” Mike turns to go.

“Mike wait-“ You try to say but he’s already vanishing through the door.

“Nice to meet you Mark.” Soldier Boy calls at his retreating figure, getting his name wrong on purpose.

You don’t even use your key to open the door you're so mad, the plants inside let you in. As soon as it opens, you haul Soldier Boy by the front of his jacket through the doorway and pin him to the wall just inside.

The casserole dish lands on your counter and by some miracle doesn’t break.

“What the hell is your problem?” Your hand is fisted in the front of his shirt, eyes blazing with anger and embarrassment.

He only grins. “You didn’t want me to play along? Sounded like that guy had been trying to get into your pants for a while. Unless he already has been or you want him to?"

You flush a deeper shade of crimson. "That is absolutely none of your business!"

“Well if we’re going to be living together doll, I’m pretty sure it is my business.”

“WE AREN'T LIVING TOGETHER I'M JUST LETTING YOU CRASH ON THE COUCH TONIGHT AND THEN YOU'RE GONE.” You shout.

“I think you’re gonna get pretty attached to me sleeping here. Maybe even you let me sleep in your bed and even fu-“

You knock him back against the wall again. “If you finish that sentence I’m going to throw you out the window.”

“If you keep knocking me around, Mike's going to think you’re into some pretty kinky stuff.” Soldier Boy smirks down at you. “It’s actually turning me on a bit. Is it turning you on?”

“I don’t have to let you stay here.” You growl, releasing him.

“I think it’s because you like me.” He teases.

“I don’t.” You frown grows. “Okay couch is there goodnight.”

You point in the direction of the worn leather couch. You'd hauled it up three flights of stairs with Annie when you first moved in after you found a guy online selling it for nothing. And when you showed up to get it, he presumed to say it would be free if you let him take a picture of your feet. And after, when he had a black eye and a fun story to tell his wife, he gave you the couch for nothing as promised.

“No kiss goodnight?” Soldier Boy pouts his lips innocently.

“You already had one of those.” You snap thinking about slapping him again and trying hard not to think about how much you wanted to kiss him again.

Get a grip.

“Right. You liked it.”

“No I didn’t. And the next time you shove your tongue into my mouth I’ll bite it off.”

“You’re really violent for such a little thing.” Soldier Boy eyes you up and down as if sizing you up.

“And you’re really dick-like for someone who’s supposed to have the wisdom of the ages.” You turn towards the hallway intent on going to bed to avoid any more conversation with him.

"Whoa." You hear Soldier Boy say as he looks into your living room.

It was the reaction that everyone had when they entered your apartment. You had a small one bedroom apartment on the third floor of a building that you believed might be older than Soldier Boy. The kitchen and living room was mostly one room, the kitchen to the left with outdated appliances and a small circular wooden table with three chairs that served as your kitchen table and desk, and was separated by the large leather aforementioned couch that faced the wall that held two large windows. Beyond the front door was a small hallway that held the only bathroom in the apartment and your bedroom.

But that's not what was surprising.

Every open space in your apartment was covered in plants. There wasn't a single piece of unused space in your apartment. There were large standing monstera and fiddle leaf figs shoved into every corner and pots of dark green pothos bolted into the walls trailing vines to the ground so that every wall looked alive. Jasmine crept along the wall behind the tv that sat on an antique credenza between the two windows, sending the bright scent into the living room.

There was a large rectangular box bolted in the space above your sink where herbs and tomatoes hung down, probably a fire hazard, but you didn't care. The vibrant smell of mint, the spicy smell of rosemary, and soft tones of oregano and basil fused the air in your apartment with a life force that was impossible to ignore.

A large apple tree grew in a pot as big around as you next to the couch, with brilliant red apples hanging from it's branches, while a lemon tree and a tangerine tree intertwined their branches just behind the kitchen table. The refrigerator, once white, was covered in the tangled vines of blackberry and raspberry, hanging with full fruit, while a potted strawberry plant sits prettily on top of the kitchen table, the bright red fruit enticing.

It was a lot. You knew it was a lot, but helping plants grow was the only thing you were good at, the only thing that felt right. One day you hoped that you could move somewhere and open a farmers market, but today you were stuck here, with Soldier Boy, who probably thought that you were crazy.

"I mean. I knew you had plant powers but this is-" He begins to say.

"A lot. I know." You roll your eyes. "The bathroom is down the hall." You gesture with your free hand towards the darkened hallway. "I guess I'll get you a pillow."

Ben is still looking around the room dumbfounded, as if he's never seen anything like this in his life, and he probably hasn't.

He's been in a Russian Lab for the past forty years, I mean he's probably not used to seeing anything this green.

You find the extra pillow in the linen closet along with one of the crocheted granny square blankets you made last year when Annie and you had a Jaws movie marathon, and a towel, before you move back into the living room.

Ben is still standing awkwardly by the couch as if he's not sure what to do, and it's the first time you've seen him look lost.

"Here." You throw him the pillow and the towel before you drape the blanket over the back of the couch. "One night."

"Why are you working for Butcher?"

"What?" The question catches you off guard. You were expecting him to make another pass at you, maybe check you out again. He was looking at you, but it was different, his gaze was softer, curious.

"You don't seem like you-" He gestures around the room. "Like you fit."

You blink for a second. "Um."

"I mean Annie used to be one of the Seven, Hughie does whatever the fuck Butcher tells him, but you you're different." His brow furrows together as if he can't figure you out.

"I really don't want to do this with you."

"This?" He looks confused again.

"Opening up with one another. You're here for one night. That's it." You force yourself to say, but the reality was you were still surprised, surprised that he actually seemed to care.

Stop. He's changing tactics because nothing else worked. He's pretending to care about you because he still wants to sleep with you.

"Please."

You can't answer for a second. It was the first time that he'd said that word in front of you before, or acted this way. It was also the first time that it had just been the two of you, before Butcher had been there or Frenchie or Annie and Hughie, but this was the first time that the two of you had been left alone.

Maybe that's why?

You hesitate before you answer, he was the last person you really wanted to open up to.

"I don't know, it's not all that bad." You shrug. "Before I didn't really use my powers all that much except like this." You gesture around the room for emphasis. "And when I went to college everyone was so serious about their futures and I didn't really like any of the classes. The only thing I enjoyed was using my powers at Please Don’t Die, the plant store I work at. And then Annie asked me to come help her out-" You bite your cheek. "She's my best friend and maybe I wanted to spend more time with her."

"But is it what you really want?" He cocks his head to the side, holding the pillow in one hand and the towel in the other.

You'd never seen him look so calm before, relaxed, like being here with you was washing away any anger or frustration he still had about the past. It was confusing, and at the same time you could feel your heart beginning to betray you. It was hard not to fall for him when he looked so good, eyes soft, dark hair falling into his eyes, clothes still dripping rain on your hardwood floors.

No. I will not fall in love with him, I will not fall in love with-

"Goodnight Soldier Boy. I'll see you in the morning." You turn to go, ignoring his final question.

"You can call me Ben." He almost whispers it, the sound of his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine.

"What?" You look back at him.

"You never call me Ben. But you can, if you want." He shrugs his shoulders, before he shakes his head as if he's annoyed with himself for suggesting it. "Never mind, just fucking forget about it-"

"Goodnight Ben." You feel the end of your mouth twitch up into a smile and with that you disappear into your bedroom, locking the door behind you.

And deep down you know that it's not to keep him out, but to keep you in.

As always, thank you so much for reading!

If you liked this story be sure to read my follow up fic that takes place in the future:

Open Mic Night!

Or if you'd like to read another series please try:

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love!

If The Stars Wish It So

A/N: I know it's crazy to start another series right now, but I'm kinda feeling this reader and Ben together? What do y'all think about it?

A/N: Update I've made a huge mistake and started another series.

If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know!

(Photos for series picture from Pinterest)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles #wonderful mutuals 💕#lovely friends 💗#soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy fic #soldier boy au #take a chance on me feedback

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cheapshrimpysheep · 8 hours ago

Text

A Rainy Walk

SUMMARY: He invites you to go with him on one of his club's outings, but the weather is revealed, belatedly, tto be inappropriate and perhaps even dangerous for what should be a pleasant moment together.

CHARACTERS: Mountain Lover Club (Jade Leech) / Gargoyle Studies Club (Malleus Draconia)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kiss

WORD COUNT: An average of 2.370 words per character.

COMMENTS: In Jade's part, as a person who doesn't like hiking, I wanted to create a way for both those who like it and those who don't to be able to insert themselves. So I made the reader twist an ankle.

I hope you enjoy it. 🌧️⛈️

OTHER CLUBS:

But… We Lost… - Basketball Club (Ace / Floyd / Jamil)

Romantic Experiment - Science Club (Trey / Rook)

For a Quarter of a Second - Track and Field Club (Deuce / Jack)

Unlucky Overtime - Spelldrive Club (Leona / Ruggie / Epel)

P.S.: I don't know what's going on with me to make me start writing so much.

You had gone to the Mostro Lounge, as you do from time to time with Grim, Ace and Deuce for a snack. When Jade comes to your table to take your orders, he informs you that he has prepared a new dessert and would love for you all to try it and tell him what you think.

“Myaah yeah, I'll take any-” Grim starts to say excitedly, until he remembers who he's talking to. “Wait... what do you want?”

“Me? I would just like to know if this new dessert I made has a pleasant taste. And who better than some of our best customers to tell me?” He smiles and proceeds to describe something you would absolutely love to eat.

“Funny, that really sounds like (Y/N)'s favorite desserts. ” Deuce says.

“Truly? What a coincidence.”

“Which I'm sure it isn't.” Ace adds. “Come on Jade, tell us what you really want in return. We might even consider it.”

“Very well.” he smiled amusedly. “It would cost you 17 thaumark each.” Everyone is shocked by that price for a small dessert. “However, I have another proposal.” you see his sharp teeth through the smile for a second. “I believe you know that I am a member of the Mountain Lover Club. This weekend, I'm planning on waking up before dawn to head to the mountains so I can see a flower that only blooms in the early hours of the day.” He looks at you. “And they are such charming flowers that I would love to share this experience with... someone. Perhaps (Y/N)?” If you accept, I can give you all a discount and the dessert will only be 8 thaumark.”

“Did you really need to do all this ruse?” Grim asks annoyed. “Why don't you just ask (Y/N) out?”

“Because that wouldn't be as thrilling, would it? Fu fu.”

“My wallet doesn't need any thrilling, thank you very much.” Ace comments. “And 8 still seems a little pricey for this type of dessert.” he tries to haggle.

“Five each if you let (Y/N) come alone with me.”

They looked at each other as if they were between a rock and a hard place.

“Deal!” You say. After all, you also have a crush on Jade.

Jade laughs seeing your friends' worried faces.

“There's nothing to worry about, gentlemen. I will make sure (Y/N) gets home safe and on time. We can even bring you souvenirs if you’d like. I would be happy to share the wonders of the mountains with all of you as well.”

He could have promised to keep you safe and sound on the mountain, but unfortunately, he couldn't do anything, nor was he prepared for something to happen to you before the hike. In one of your Physical Education classes you ended up twisting your ankle and it wouldn't heal in time for the day of the hike. You were in the infirmary when Jade came to check on you.

“(Y/N), I heard about your accident in Professor Vargas' class.” Jade tells you with pity, or at least it seems like it. It's hard to know when it's genuine concern. “But may I confirm with you that it was indeed just an accident?”

You confirm that it was just your foot that slipped, a little confused by that question.

“Very well. Don't worry, I believe in you. But you know that if there is a classmate who is less... pleasant with you, you can tell me.” He says with a sweet smile before forming his toothy little grin. “I can have a reasonable little conversation with them.”

You assure him that it wasn't any other student's fault that made you end up like this. At worst, it was Grim's mischief to blame. Jade chuckles.

“But it was quite unfortunate that it happened right before our hike in the mountain. However, I thought of a way for you to be able to accompany me, if you still wish to do so.”

On the day of the hike, or rather, that night before dawn, Jade appeared at Ramshackle Dorm door and sent you a message asking if you were ready. He asked for permission to enter the dormitory and go to your room and when he arrived he had with him a flying broom with a special cushioned seat for you. Since it's still going to be a bit of a long walk, he thought that maybe the broom like you normally use in class might be a bit uncomfortable. You could accompany him on the hike sitting on the broom and that way you wouldn't have to walk and strain your feet.

“Would you like me to help you get on the broom?” He asks politely.

If you accept his help, he will gently hold you by the waist and place you in the seat.

“The weather forecasts have been a bit... surprising.” Jade says with an enigmatic smile. “The predictions have proven to be quite inaccurate recently. There is a chance of some rain so I advise you to take an umbrella. But you should also put on sunscreen and wear a hat. Hats are essential when sketching outdoors. I got horribly sunburned once when I grew too absorbed in my work.”

Jade was dressed for the occasion from head to toe. He even wore a long coat full of pockets and was carrying a camping backpack. But in your case, he didn't ask you to take much more than necessary.

As you were walking at night, Jade took a lantern with him and placed another one on the end of your broom. He was using his magic to lead the broom like someone leading a horse by the reins. He took you through the Dark Mirror to the Dwarfs' Mountain. It was a full moon night and it was beautiful. It shouldn't be long before the moon disappeared and gave way to dawn and at that height it was beautiful to see.

“They advise anyone who hike at night to do so on a full moon night, as this is the phase in which the moon provides the best natural lighting. However, if I'm correct it shouldn't be long until dawn. Maybe 30 to 45 minutes. The flower location is also not far from here, we will get there in time even if we take it slow and appreciate what surrounds us. Feel free to ask me anything if you see something that catches your interest.” He smiles and begins the hike.

If you do as he suggests and ask him about something you see or simply what his hikes are usually like, he'll be very happy to tell you anything you want to know. And if you ask him about some type of mushroom, he'll be even happier.

“I appreciate your willingness to listen to me talk about the mountains. I started to tell Floyd my thoughts about hiking in the mountains, and he nodded off not even a minute in.” Jade was telling you, “What a shame we cannot enjoy this hobby together.” when he felt something in his nose. “Hm?”

You also feel something on your nose, then on your forehead, on your cheek...

“Looks like this is your cue to open your umbrella.” He tells you. “So that is why it seemed like it was taking so long for dawn to come, the clouds are covering the sun. Fortunately... we arrived.”

You open your umbrella, it's not raining much yet. You see a small field between the trees and full of closed flowers. When you look at Jade, you see that something seems to be bothering him and you ask what he was thinking.

“Oh, you noticed.” he smiles, as if he had been caught. “I was thinking about these flowers. It says they bloom in the early hours of the day, but I don't remember if they would do so regardless of whether they received direct sunlight or not. It would be a shame not to be able to achieve our main objective.”

And then the sky gets darker and the rain starts to get heavier.

“Oh no, it doesn't look like it's going to be a light rain. You should take shelter. The mine is nearby, let's go there.”

“I should take shelter? What about you?”

“Well, it's not like water bothers me, remember? Fu fu~” He laughs amusedly.

Jade takes you by the broom to the inside of the mine, not far from the entrance, just enough to take shelter and still see the outside. As soon as you sat down on the ground the rain seemed to turn into a storm.

“Oh dear! I've never seen the weather forecast fail so badly.” he says with that toothy smile, probably enjoying the surprise a little too much. But then he looks at you. “I'm so sorry I brought you out into the middle of a storm this early in the morning. I really wanted to see those flowers with you. It seems I was reckless and let myself be carried away by impulse.”

He sees you shaking a little.

“Oh! I hadn't even realized how much the temperature had dropped. Here.” He takes off his long coat and offers it to you to put on. “I appreciate your concern, but there's no need to worry about me. I have excellent resistance to cold, remember? Speaking of your well-being, how is your ankle?”

You weren't wearing the shoe on your injured foot, but a thick sock over the bandages. That cold was good for your ankle, but terrible for the rest of your foot, especially your toes.

“Yes, as I imagined. Let me take care of you until we are able to go back to school. It's the least I can do after putting you through all this while you're still recovering.”

He looked at you with concern, but you've seen that "concerned" expression a few times before.

“You're looking at me so suspiciously. That is quite hurtful. You should know how careful I am, especially in a situation like this.”

But he still had that smile that, whoever knows him, knows there is something behind it. And so you ask him if you're going to be indebted to him after that. If there's one thing you learned from Octavinelle, it's not to accept any favor from them without knowing the terms and conditions of it.

“Fu fu fu...” his charismatic smile becomes his true smile, the one with his teeth showing. “I'm glad to see that you learned such a valuable lesson from us, (Y/N). But there is another one that we may need to teach you better. And that is the ability to realize when you have the advantage. Remember how you agreed to accompany me in exchange for a discount on the desserts? We were even then. In the case of the broom I provided, in exchange, you would offer me your company even though you were injured. In that case, I might be at a disadvantage. Since I was risking your injury getting worse by bringing you away from the protection of your home. And now, that risk has become real. Which means I'm the one who owes you this time. Which means I am the one who is in debt to you at the moment. Due to my poor decision of a date with a suitable weather for the hike. Any treatment I provide you will only and slimply make me pay my debt. Do you feel safer accepting my offer under these conditions?”

Everything he said made sense. And while the Octavinelle trio have a tendency to create shady agreements and contracts, they don't necessarily lie. They can do it by omission, but this is not the case, so you accept.

You are sitting on the mine floor with the same pillow that supported you on the broom. Jade sits in front of you and asks you to stretch your legs so he can put them over his. He takes off the sock that covered your foot and uses magic to warm your foot with the exception of the ankle that needs the cold. And while this heating magic is taking effect he massages your ankle and feet, in a way that is appropriate and specific for a sprained ankle. He was really good at it.

“There's another thing we've been even from the beginning.” he says with a smirk and without looking at you yet. “Grim was right, I wanted to go out with you. But...” He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, barely moving his head. “You wanted to go out with me as well... didn't you, (Y/N)?”

He sees you smiling, perhaps shyly, and takes it as a green light. He takes your feet from his lap and places them gently on the ground, then stretches out towards you, supporting himself on his hands, like a cat slowly approaching.

“I really feel horrible for putting you in this situation.” But he doesn't say this with regret, but rather in a purposefully seductive way. “I wonder what I can do to redeem myself? Especially if it lasts as long as it looks like it will. Making you wait here uncomfortably for so long will create a huge debt for me towards you.” He brings his face even closer to yours, with a smile as inviting as his heterochromatic eyes. “Tell me... what can I do to ease this situation?”

He won't kiss you. He'll wait patiently for you to do it first. Or better yet... for you to order him to kiss you.

“As you wish~” He says and kisses you passionately.

Rainy weather tends to get a person down, and that's what was happening to you too. Even though you may enjoy listening to the rain outside, it's never good when you have to go back to your dorm. Especially with Grim complaining.

Grim managed to get to Ramshackle Dorm dry because he made you to carry him. You, on the other hand, had your legs and feet stuck in water. It was when you were going up the stairs to change your clothes in your room that you saw some little and familiar green lights around you.

You turn around and go to the door. When you open it you see Malleus with a large umbrella and dressed in black waterproof clothes and a raincoat.

“Good afternoon, Child of Man.” Malleus greets you with a polite smile. “I couldn't help but notice you less cheerful and smiling than usual these past few days. I think it even coincided with the arrival of the rainy weather. Would the two be connected?”

You tell him yes. Maybe you don't like rain at all, or maybe you only like rain when you can sit inside and enjoy the sound. Either way, you don't like being out in the rain and risking catching a cold.

“Oh yes, that is true... a simple rain can make a human sick. But I believe that having wet clothes such as yours can also contribute to a possible sickness, am I correct?” he asks and you confirm. “Allow me to help you dry faster.”

“You're not going to use fire magic on me, are you?” you ask slightly worried.

“Yes, I was about to. Why so worried about it?”

“Because you can burn me with it.”

“Burn? Oh, no, I wasn't going to use direct fire. I know that fire hurts other living beings. I was going to use a variation of fire magic that just changes the temperature around certain objects. I have used it several times to dry my own clothes. You seem more relieved. Will you allow me to use it then?”

You accept and he uses his magic to dry your pants, shoes and socks in a second.

“You know, I personally quite appreciate this weather. It's perfect for the Gargoyle Studies Club because we can watch them perform their main function. Or at least I can see them. I would love to share this sight with you. Perhaps it could help you feel a little better on days like these. What do you say? Do you accept my invitation?” He smiles excitedly, which is also cute.

You say you'd love to, but you don't have rain gear like his.

“There is no need for this to be a deterrent. I'll be more than happy to provide you with suitable clothing.” He uses his magic again and changes your uniform into the same set of rain gear he was wearing. Seeing you in those clothes makes him smile even more. “They seem to suit you well.”

“But how do I go with you?” You ask. “Don't you usually fly up to the gargoyles?”

“I do. I was thinking, if you're comfortable with it, that I could carry you in my arms. Like I saw you doing with Grim just now when you were coming back home. This umbrella is big enough for two people. But if you prefer, I can also give you another umbrella and we can ask Coach Vargas for one of the flying brooms.”

You admit that you don't mind about the first option and maybe even use the excuse that you don't have magic and Grim clearly doesn't want to go with you, so you wouldn't be able to use the broom by yourself.

“In that case, if you're ready, we can go back to the main building to admire the gargoyles.” He smiles and bends his arm, inviting you to intertwine yours with his.

You do so, he places the umbrella between the two of you and you walk back to the school building. He was talking about his club and gargoyles in general until you got close to a wall with no doors or windows nearby.

“One of my favorite gargoyles sits right above us.” Malleus tells you. “Do you see that trickle of water? It's coming from that same gargoyle. Are you ready for me to take you up there and show you?” He extends a hand to you.

You place your hand over his and he gently pulls you towards him. He then lets go of your hand to bend down slightly, put his arm around you and picks you up. Your reflex is to put your arms around his neck to hold on, which brings your faces closer together. He looks directly at you and chuckles seeing your embarrassed/shy face.

“Hold on tight. And do not worry about hurting me, you wouldn't be able to even if you tried. Fu fu.”

As soon as he rises into the air you grab him tightly, which makes him chuckle because he was barely half a meter off the ground yet. Then he rises even higher, but slower than he would on his own. He doesn't want to scare you.

When you get close to the gargoyle, he sits the two of you next to it, you between him and the gargoyle so you can see it better. And he will never let go of your waist to hold you. If you are afraid of heights, or if you just feel a little scared at that moment and hold on to him, he will chuckle and hold you even tighter, but never too tight so as not to hurt you.

“Worry not, (Y/N). I won't let go of you. You can enjoy the gargoyle as much as you wish. I'll be holding you the entire time.”

As you admire the gargoyle doing its work and see the rainwater coming out of its mouth, Malleus admires you.

“Do you wish to know why this is one of my favorite gargoyles on the school building?” He asks and of course you say yes. “In terms of appearance, there's nothing very different about this one from all the others. In fact, there is nothing worth calling special about this gargoyle carving technique. What delights me the most about this gargoyle is not what any of us can see, but what it can see every day.”

You look ahead, trying to figure out where the gargoyle was looking, but the school grounds were so big and the sea so vast that you couldn't be sure. Malleus chuckles, as if you weren't seeing something obvious.

“You are looking too far away. See which building is closest.”

You look closer, at the least impressive building on campus.

“Ramshackle Dorm?” You ask.

“Correct. This gargoyle must have seen the whole story of your dormitory. When it was built, who might have been there before you, how it became an abandoned building and the answers to any question we might wish to know about its mysterious past.”

You look at that gargoyle again with new eyes. All your questions could be answered. If it could talk, it would certainly be a very interesting conversation.

“This gargoyle also witnessed all my visits to the ruins.” Malleus continues. “I wonder what it thought of me, coming in just to admire the decay of that dormitory. But more than that, I wonder what it thought of you. Arriving with a mischievous little monster, a being without magic and completely unaware of the history of this world. And yet, able to breathe new life into rubble and call it home. It also witnessed our meeting. Could it have found it as amusing as I did? Fu fu~”

You look at your dorm, thinking now of everything that gargoyle could have seen.

“And now, it is watching over you.” He looks at you with a sweet smile. “I've told this gargoyle a lot about you, and now it's finally meeting you.”

If you look at the gargoyle again and even greet it, Malleus will laugh in amusement.

“I am certain it was as delighted to meet you as I was that night.”

You look at him and see him looking at you with great affection.

“Speaking of which, I'm curious.” Malleus continues. “Did you also enjoy meeting me that night? You were not frightened, at least.”

You tell him how you felt that night. Surprised, especially seeing such a tall guy with horns, but also intrigued to know who he was. You also found him extremely polite by the way he spoke.

“But I remember finding you very handsome right away.” You admit it.

Malleus is taken aback for a second, but then he laughs.

“Well, I am quite grateful for your honesty. Fu fu. Therefore, I should also admit that I found you... intrepidly charming.”

“Is that a good thing?” You ask.

“For some it may not be, but for me, and the inherently way you show it, it is something wonderful. I could even describe it as cute, especially when you are oblivious to social statutes.” He smiles honestly. And after a moment of reflection, his gaze becomes tender. “I am very fortunate to have you in my life, (Y/N).”

You show him your surprise, that sudden line was very unexpected.

“These moments with you always become some of my fondest memories. I hope to be as pleasant a companion to you as you are to me.”

You feel his arm around you instinctively pulling you closer to him. It's being a cute moment until there's a flash. You both look up and a few seconds later you hear the deafening rumble of thunder. It was so loud that it felt like it was very close to you and made you flinch as a reflex. Which also caused Malleus to let go of the umbrella and let it float above you to be able to hug you with both arms.

“I need to get you out of here. We're too high.”

He picks you up with both arms without hesitation while the umbrella floats above the two of you. And then another bolt of lightning! But this time it hit the tower right next to you, which scared you and made you cling to Malleus.

“A quick trip it shall be.” He holds your head, making you rest it on his shoulder, and in the blink of an eye, you no longer feel the rain and the scene changes abruptly.

You are now at the door of Ramshackle Dorm. He has teleported the two of you there. He leans in for you to put your feet back on the ground.

“I'm sorry our study trip has been so short.” He says with pity. “There were other gargoyles I would have liked to show you. But if you enjoyed our time today, I can show them to you on another outing sometime.” He smiles at you.

Right after you say you'd love it, you hear another clap of thunder. And so, you decide to invite Malleus to stay in Ramshackle with you for a while until the storm calms down.

“You are... Well, I would love to accept your invitation, but you do know that storms are not dangerous to me, correct?”

“I know.” you simply say, without withdrawing your invitation.

Malleus starts by laughing softly, until he lets out a good-natured laugh.

“You certainly are a very strange child of man.”

Malleus is too much of a gentleman to advance much further than with charming words. So, that will have to be your job.

“I am very fortunate to have you in my life too, Tsunotarou.” You tell him.

Malleus looks at you in surprise for a second until an adorable smile forms on his lips.

“You are one of the few who would say that.” He smirks. “And certainly the only human outside of Briar Valley who would say something like that at all.”

Come to think of it, with perhaps the exception of Lilia, the Diasomnia boys tend to be a bit oblivious to subtext. So you decide to take a risk and be direct.

“Tsunotarou... Malleus... do you like me?”

“Of course I like you. I thought I was expressing myself quite well in that regard.” He says a little confused.

“I mean... could you...” He probably doesn't know what the word ‘crush’ means, or he may take it literally. “...be in love with me? Or something like that?”

He is taken aback, and looks at you with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

“Me? The successor to the throne of Briar Valley and one of the most powerful mages in Twisted Wonderland? In love with... a powerless human from another world?” He seems to think about it for a moment until a smile forms again. “Fu fu... ha ha... HA HA HA HA HA!”

That laugh hurts your heart a little, until he continues speaking.

“I had never thought of that.” He says, looking to the side as he thinks. “But... if what I feel for you truly is what they call love... then now I understand why it is such a longed-for feeling. And if it is true then... ha ha HA HA... Oh, the obstacles we would have to face to be together. It does indeed sound exciting... Perhaps...” He looks you in the eyes. “Perhaps you are correct in interpreting my actions as such. However, I still cannot be sure it is love. But perhaps I can answer your question by admitting that, in fact, I nourish a much more intimate feeling towards you than friendship. This would explain why your company comforts and makes me happier than any other.”

He sees you smile as you listen to what he was saying.

“May I interpret that beautiful smile of yours as a possible mutual feeling on your part?”

You confirm and he leans in to take your hand and bring it to his lips to kiss the back of it. If you dare to take advantage of the fact that his face is at the same level as yours and you kiss his cheek, he will look at you in surprise before chuckling.

“Such audacity.” He says with a smug smile and still leaning over, his face close to yours. “Are you certain you wiah to find out how passionate I can be?”

He interprets your smile as confirmation and he kisses your lips delicately. Despite everything, he knows he can hurt you if he lets himself get too carried away. He's going to have to test some... limits.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst fluff #Twisted Wonderland Fluff #Jade Leech #Jade Leech x Reader #Jade x Reader #Malleus Draconia #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Malleus x Reader

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dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling · 2 days ago

Text

Send help, i'm running out of GIF'S to use!

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Neighborhood biology lesson

★ The entire neighborhood gathered outside Poppy's house. With the window open for her to see. It was Franks idea to have a little crash-course on how you work. Taught by you, an expert on humans. Frank even gave you a chalkboard to draw on!

★ As everyone settles down, Wally turns to Barnaby. "Why are we doing this? They don't seem that different?" He asks. Julie answers for Barnaby, with "Wally, they bleed!" But he simply tilts his head. And says, "I understand" despite still not getting it.

★ It's clear your friends don't know much about biology. Except from Frank. You begin by writing your species name in chalk. Then you write down the species classification. It's all stuff you learned in school. But are far from an expert on.

★ "I belong to a species categorized under Kingdom Animalia, Phylum Chordata, Class Mammalia." And you go on like this. Confusing them, mostly. Sally stopped you to say ask about the "Kingdom" part.

★ "Hold on! Kingdom?!" She shouts. "Are you royalty!?" Frank pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated that you were interrupted. "No, no. Thats not what it, means."

★ Julie raises her hand. "What happens to the food you eat? Where's it go?" she asks. You answer with "acid burns it." And she freezes. Not sure if you're joking. After a second, she speaks. "...Huh?"

★ After about 20 minuets, Poppy starts fidgeting with her wings, fluffing up slightly. "Oh my stars..." She murmurs to herself. Voice barely a whisper. Without another word she closes her window. Retreating inside before you say anything else. She's heard enough.

★ You explain how teeth are a type of bone, and Barnaby looks at you funny. "Okay. I don’t like that. But I respect it." He doesn't ask any further questions. Now he knows you've got bones inside of your face that allow you to chew, tear and rip things. Wonderful.

★ Eddie stayed quiet throughout most of it. Listening closely to everything you said. But after you finished with the lesson, he spoke. "Nighbor..." He clears his throat. "So, to be clear, you have meat inside you?" Could've phrased it better, but he's technically right.

★ A few days later, you find that Howdy stocked his store with various health products. Bandages, vitamins, basic medications like Tylenol and even a first aid kid sitting behind him on a counter. Clearly intended for you. (Where did he even get all this?)

#welcome home #welcome home x reader #welcome home x you #welcome home fanfiction #wally darling x you #wally darling x reader #wally darling x y/n #wally darling #poppy partridge x reader #eddie dear x reader #frank frankly x reader #julie joyful x reader #howdy pillar x reader #barnaby x reader #sally starlet x reader

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mahajio · 11 hours ago

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Hey, I remember this comic! I am beyond happy to see this absolute gem polished to perfection and packed with so much beautiful detail! At first I began typing out a comment on Bluesky, but then I realized you also uploaded it to Tumblr, so I can just ramble to my heart's content without having to divide it into several smaller comments. This is especially nice since there's three whole pages of beautiful artwork I want to gush about!

First of all, the dire wolves look EXCELLENT! Supremely intimidating fellows, alright. You've drawn their fur immaculately with so many little individual tufts of hair, and the way you drew their maws ups their intimidation factor significantly. It's a killer panel to open up with, if I do say so myself. Neither Marcille nor Falin look particularly impressed by their display though, which makes perfect sense considering they're both experienced adventurers and one of them is perfectly capable of blowing their heads off with very little effort. I will say that it makes the whole scene look very funny!

Every single panel is a delight to look at. You really did go all out with this, and I couldn't possibly be happier! One fun thing about writing comments like this is that I get to look at every panel for an extended period of time, and it just never gets old, I tell ya! Marcille looks so tired and fed up with everything, which is very funny, but I also absolutely ADORE the way Falin gestures at Marcille to stand back. That genuinely adorable face, followed up with her confident, sparkling smile and a big ole thumbs up, is just perfect. Seeing the back of Marcille's head with the black lines and little sweat droplets had me in shambles for some reason. I honestly don't know why I spent a full minute laughing at that, but I think it's probably because it contrasts Falin's confidence so insanely well.

The shot of Falin hyping herself up and preparing to deal with the dire wolves just as Laios instructed her is epic! I've said this many times before, but HOLY MOLY, your art style is EPIC! It suits Dungeon Meshi perfectly, and man oh man you draw the red dragon like no other! Falin looks confident, and the fact she feels as though she's backed by the most powerful creature in existence just hyped me up, even despite the fact I know exactly what happens next. I also love the line "No dogs will push me around anymore!" Because she was always dead last in the dog hierarchy back home. She'll make her brother proud, she'll show Marcille she makes for a great mate, and she'll show these dire wolves she is not to be messed with! Even though the red dragon is such a small, borderline negligible part of her being, I like the idea of Falin entertaining little urges here and there and feeling empowered by the idea of having a little goober inside of her. Falin's expression in the last panel of the first page looks freakin' INTENSE, which makes Marcille's tiredness and confusion even better, hahaha! I absolutely love what you did with the two in this comic!

When I saw the small critter you drew to show how Falin's bark sounded, I nearly died. I was drinking a cup of tea with honey and a cloud of milk, and all of that shot directly into my lungs! I'm surprised my desk and keyboard remained completely clean, because I was coughing for a solid minute or two just laughing at Marcille's expression with delicious, smoking hot tea on my face and clothes AND THAT SILLY LOOKING CHIHUAHUA IS SO FRICKIN' AAAAAAAAHHH!! FALIN LOOKS SO INTIMIDATING WITH THE WAY SHE BARKS BUT IT'S JUST A YAP LIKE HOLY MOLY I CAAAAAAAAN'T!!!! The dire wolves look so confused, too! That little doodle of two looking at each other and just wondering what the hell this random feathered fleshbag they encountered is trying to accomplish before going right back to their initial plan of tearing her throat out is incredible. Again, they look incredibly intimidating, and that makes their confusion all the more funny!

Falin's enthusiastic yapping turning into a single, confused yap as the dire wolves close in on her was drawn very nicely, and that shot of Marcille's disappointed face is PERFECT! PER-FECT! That grimace was drawn SUPREMELY, chief! The way Falin recoils in surprise from the sudden explosion that completely deletes the head of a dire wolf, with little tufts of fur getting flung around together with a healthy helping of blood was also drawn wonderfully! This entire comic is incredibly expressive, and I haven't even gotten to my favourite expression yet! As an aside, the cave backgrounds in the first and last panel of the second page look nifty. Me likey.

The third page has an absolutely wonderful background in each panel, which I think deserves some special praise, because it makes it all look even more beautiful than it already did! I really need to find myself a better job so I can afford to commission you. Your artwork is incredible! Ha, Marcille's tiredness is very apparent throughout this comic, so her deciding it's about time to call it quits makes perfect sense, and those black lines descending on Falin as she's buried her head in her arms gives me the idea she's ready to call it a day too after that horrible humiliation. The two panels of Marcille sighing and asking Falin if she's okay are very sweet, and I think the sheer tiredness of her expression adds to it.

Now, THIS is my favourite expression in this entire comic! Falin looks surprisingly composed and neutral when she tells Marcille she's okay, but just beneath the surface both she and the little red dragon are utterly devastated. That face right there, THAT FACE OF FALIN! IT IS PERFECT. I CANNOT ADD ANYTHING. IT IS SIMPLY PERFECT, hahaha ooooohhh man! Ooooooh I am cropping that for posterity's sake! PGIsiagduysdgluyllHEEEERR NOOOOOOOOOOSE AND THE WAY HER MOUTHOHAIUGIUASIUGDIUAGUDAGDUI IT'S SO GOOOOOOOOOOD!!!!

Gosh, that last panel cracked me up, too. What an exquisite comic! You never fail to impress, chief!

🐲Dragon vs Wolves🐺

(Read right to left)

#dungeon meshi #falin touden #marcille donato #churroach

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hummingbird24220 · 3 days ago

Note

Hi hi hi hiiii!

May i request... Some funny shenanigans in Arabastra where Strawhat!reader is simpin for the Croco? 👀😳 Kinda...crack-adjecent 🤭 Like... "You come here often?" while being stuck in a cage or "What can that hook do?" before it reveals to have a poison kind of stupid?

Please please with a banana on top? 💜

Yes. Yessss. Not really plot-adjacent - this is not really plot adjacent but hey ho - im here for croc, not plot accuracy.

Sand Daddy Issues

One piece x reader (reader simping for croccy)

It was a hot, dry day in Alabasta. You were dehydrated. You were sunburnt. You were in a literal cage suspended above a pit of banana gators.

And yet…

“Okay but like, hear me out,” you said, clutching the iron bars and watching as Sir Crocodile dramatically turned to leave, “does anyone else think he’s kinda... hot?”

Smoker made a choked noise. Nami turned slowly to stare at you like you just licked a cactus.

Zoro let out a suffering sigh. “I’d say you’ve lost your mind, but I’m pretty sure you never had one.”

“He’s the enemy,” Nami hissed.

“He’s got eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man,” you whispered reverently, leaning your cheek against the bars. “And I, for one, respect that.”

Crocodile paused halfway down the stairs, clearly hearing that. He didn’t turn around.

Usopp yanked you away from the bars. “Have you SEEN the size of his hook?!”

“I KNOW, right?” you whispered back with a dangerous sparkle in your eyes.

“No—I meant—it’s poisonous!!” Usopp panicked.

Luffy, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the cage, tilted his head. “You wanna date him or fight him?”

You lifted a finger. “Yes.”

Zoro facepalmed so hard he nearly gave himself a concussion. “We are going to die in this cage, and the last thing I’m gonna hear is you thirsting over a Warlord.”

“You say that like it’s not completely valid,” you replied. “He’s rich, he's powerful, and he wears fur in the desert. That’s commitment. That’s fashion. That’s—”

“Insanity,” Smoker growled from the corner of the cage. “You damn pirates are all insane.”

“Oh c’mon, Smokey,” you said sweetly. “Don't tell me you’ve never looked at him and thought ‘I bet that hook could—’”

“I will dropkick you into the sand,” he interrupted.

“I welcome that energy,” you said with a wink.

Suddenly the floor beneath the cage rumbled.

Everyone looked down at once.

Zoro cursed. “Banana gators.”

You looked down too, then up at the ceiling, clasping your hands. “Dear sweet Croco-daddy, please don't let me die before I get to ask if you're single.”

Crocodile finally turned around, exasperated.

“You done?” he drawled.

You smiled brightly. “That depends. You free Friday?”

“WE’RE IN A CAGE!” Nami yelled, shoving you.

Luffy laughed. “This is fun.”

Zoro started trying to bend the bars with his bare hands.

Smoker tried to light a cigar and nearly choked on the rage.

Usopp curled into a ball.

And you? You leaned toward Crocodile and whispered through the bars with a sultry grin:

“So uh… you come here often?”

You weren’t sure what was more terrifying: the banana gators below, the creaking sound the cage kept making, or the fact that Crocodile still hadn’t said no to your flirting.

“Well?” you said hopefully, gripping the bars like a maiden in a tragic play. “If you’re gonna feed us to the gators, can you at least tell me your favorite flower first?”

Crocodile raised a brow. “Why?”

“So I can haunt you properly.”

That actually got a snort out of him. A real one. A Warlord-of-the-Sea-smirking-at-your-bad-flirting kind of snort.

“I prefer silence,” he said, but there was amusement dancing in his voice. The bastard was enjoying this.

Next to him, Nico Robin covered her mouth as if yawning, but you saw the smile behind her hand.

“She likes you,” Robin said casually, voice as smooth as sand through fingers.

“I respect him,” you corrected, with the sincerity of someone about to perish and still down bad. “And maybe also wanna braid his hair a little.”

“You’re insane,” Smoker muttered. “This is a hostage situation.”

“She’s mentally unwell,” Nami added.

“I think it’s romantic!” Luffy said helpfully.

Crocodile made a little hum in his throat and gestured with one sharp wave of his hook. “Leave them. Let the banana gators line up. One by one.”

“Oh! Like a buffet,” you chirped, nodding. “Very organized. Love that.”

He looked back over his shoulder, meeting your eyes. “Try not to scream too loud. It’s unpleasant.”

“Depends on the reason I’m screaming,” you said, entirely too suggestively.

Zoro audibly gagged. Usopp started praying to every god he knew. Smoker tried to chew his cigar into dust.

And with that, Crocodile turned and left, cape billowing. Robin gave you a tiny finger wave as she followed, definitely amused.

The gators below growled.

“…He totally stayed to listen,” you said a moment later, peering down the corridor.

“FOCUS,” Nami yelled.

The gators were starting to line up like actual dinner guests at a five-course buffet.

Cue: panic.

And then—ka-chunk—something rustled in the corner of the pit. A familiar mop of black hair appeared in the shadows.

“Hmm? This door was unlocked,” said Sanji’s voice.

“SANJI!!!” you all screamed.

He looked up at the cage, blinking. “Oh, look at that. Caged birds. And my lovely caged angel—wait, WHY is she leaning out like she’s waiting for a date?”

“She’s looking for Crocodile,” Zoro groaned. “She thinks he’s her boyfriend now.”

“He might be!” you said defensively. “Did you see the way he looked back? That was at least a third-date look.”

Before anyone could argue further, the floor shifted again.

A geyser of wax exploded from the floor as Mr. 3 was forcibly thrown into the pit by the very gator who’d eaten him. Chaos exploded. Banana gators roared. Usopp screamed like a haunted kettle.

You?

You were still cupping your hands around your eyes, peering dramatically into the distance.

“…Guys. I swear he’s still watching.”

“You mean Crocodile?” Sanji asked.

You nodded dreamily.

Smoker stared at you like he was about to launch himself out of the cage just to get away. “You’re delusional.”

“I prefer ‘dangerously charming,’” you replied.

The casino was crumbling.

You were running full speed through smoke, debris, and the echo of banana gators throwing tantrums. Nami was screaming something about “go left, LEFT—NO YOUR OTHER LEFT!” and Sanji was dropkicking a Baroque Works goon off your tail.

You, meanwhile, were having a very unfortunate moment of reflection.

“…So like. I get it now.”

“Not now,” Nami hissed.

“No, no, let me say this,” you insisted, ducking a falling ceiling tile. “I understand that yes, Crocodile is technically the villain. Like, warlord, attempted coup, sand powers of biblical proportions, poison hook, et cetera—I got it.”

Usopp wheezed. “Now?! You’re having a moral reckoning now?!”

“I’m saying I recognize that I went a bit too hard. Maybe I projected a little. Maybe I simp for rugged men with criminal tendencies and broad shoulders. I’m not proud, but I’m honest.”

Zoro, already fed up, turned mid-sprint just to smack the back of your head.

“OW—”

“You deserved that,” he said flatly.

“Maybe you should get more scars,” you muttered, rubbing your head. “Then maybe you’d make the cut.”

Sanji let out the loudest “TCH—” you’d ever heard in your life and nearly walked into a wall in protest. “Don’t you DARE compare that lizard freak to us.”

“Why not?” you shot back. “Crocodile appreciated me. He smirked. He lingered. He fed us to gators, but like—gently.”

Zoro looked like he was going to smack you again.

Smoker, running behind with Vivi, shouted, “If you ever say ‘gently’ and ‘fed us to gators’ in the same sentence again, I’m arresting you on principle.”

Vivi gasped between breaths. “He tried to kill my father!”

“I said I get it!” you said, holding your arms out. “I’m just… processing. I have a type, okay? I like rugged, dangerous men with mysterious pasts and possibly trench coats.”

Luffy, riding a broken door like a skateboard past the collapsing hallway, shouted, “Ooh! That sounds like Zoro!”

Zoro visibly recoiled. “Do not drag me into this!”

You placed a hand on your heart dramatically. “All I’m saying is—if Crocodile ever reforms and opens a beachside bar, I am first in line.”

Nami shoved you into a doorway just as a chandelier fell where you were standing. “And if you don’t shut up, I will personally bury you in the desert.”

You let out a deep sigh as the team stumbled out into the sunlight, coughing and covered in dust. “It’s okay. I know it’s over. It was never meant to be…”

Everyone relaxed for a second.

“…But maybe he’s watching from a dune somewhere. Just like—‘Ah, there goes that oddly charming disaster of a Straw Hat.’”

“I’m gonna throw you back inside,” Zoro muttered.

You stood on tiptoe and shouted toward the horizon.

“WAIT, TELL CROCO I LOVE HIM—”

A shoe hit you in the head. You didn’t know whose.

You weren’t sure how you got separated from the crew.

One minute you were arguing with Nami about whether it was technically a crush or a “psychological fascination with morally grey authority figures,” and the next, you were on a racing lizard, yelling directions like you knew where the hell Alubarna even was.

Your mouth was dry, your brain was dry, and your heart—tragically—was still moist for a certain Warlord.

You tumbled off the lizard when it reared near the palace gates. The streets were a warzone: rebels screaming, royal guards holding the line, Vivi’s voice echoing somewhere in the fray—but you?

You were disoriented. Sun-stroked. Dusty. Maybe dying.

And then—you saw him.

Sir Crocodile. Standing at the palace steps like the world belonged to him. Cape flowing. Hook glinting. Sand swirling dramatically like some desert-themed anime intro.

You squinted, wiped the dust from your face, and muttered:

“…Goddamn, he really is majestic.”

With no better plan, you staggered toward him, dusting yourself off and clearing your throat like you belonged there. His guards turned—tensed—but Crocodile held up a hand.

He looked you over.

“…You,” he said flatly.

“Me,” you breathed. “Back for round two.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Your crew escaped. Why are you here?”

“Distraction,” you said smoothly, pulling yourself up with all the poise you could muster. “The Straw Hats are all over the city. I figured I’d come by and… stall you.”

His brow lifted slightly. “By throwing yourself at me?”

“That’s phase one,” you said with a grin. “Phase two was gonna be seduction, but we’re on a tight schedule.”

He actually smirked. “You’re insane.”

You leaned on a column. “So I’ve been told. Repeatedly. In different languages.”

He stepped closer. “You’re lucky I find this entertaining.”

“Oh, I’m not lucky,” you said. “I’m charming. Big difference.”

You both paused in the eye of the storm. It was the closest thing to peace you’d had in hours.

Then, casually—too casually—Crocodile said, “By the way. I killed your captain. Straw Hat is dead.”

…

You blinked.

“That,” you said after a beat, “is a massive red flag.”

He arched a brow.

“I mean damn, Croco-Bae,” you said, backing up with a hand on your hip. “I know I like ‘em toxic, but that’s straight-up un-dateable behavior.”

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” he said, voice low now, dangerous.

You shrugged. “I mean, yeah. But I was flirting, dude. You don’t just drop murder news mid-banter. That’s—bad form.”

And then he lunged.

You just barely dodged the first sand swipe, rolling across the sandstone tiles. He didn’t hesitate now—he came at you with the full weight of a Warlord, hook whistling through the air.

You pulled your weapon (a sad excuse of a sword/bo staff/whatever you had left after the explosion) and braced.

“You know what?” you shouted, ducking another attack. “This is why you’re single!”

He scoffed. “I prefer it.”

You threw a rock at his head.

He vaporized it with sand.

You screamed in frustration. “I WAS GONNA GIVE YOU A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET!”

“You were going to die!”

“I CAN MULTITASK!!”

Sand began to swirl dangerously around you both as his patience evaporated like water in the desert. Your stance was slipping. You weren’t a match—not really. But you weren’t going down simping.

At least not loudly.

You weren’t gonna win.

Not against him. Not in this state. You were sun-fried, bruised, cracked down the middle like a clay pot with too many metaphors, and Crocodile’s hook was swinging straight for your gut.

There was a woosh of sand, and you thought: Damn. He really is a 10… but so is arsenic.

You braced for the hit—

—and did get hit.

Just not by the hook.

A fist covered in haki, rage, and the sheer force of friendship collided with Crocodile’s smug jaw.

“YOU’RE NOT HURTING MY CREW!!!” Luffy shouted, voice pure fire.

You collapsed sideways in the sand, hook wound slicing deep across your side. It hurt. A lot. But it didn’t feel... final. Which, honestly, was a surprise.

You blinked up at the sky as Luffy went feral on Crocodile in the distance, fists flying, sand exploding, chaos reborn.

And all you could think was:

“…Okay but like… if he’d just not tried to murder everyone…”

You laughed softly to yourself—blood loss chuckle edition.

“…It could’ve worked out.”

And then you passed out.

Much Later...

You woke up in a bed too soft for the desert, draped in gauze and bad decisions.

The palace ceiling loomed above you. Golden light filtered through clean windows. Somewhere nearby, birds chirped, probably unaware that you almost had a villain redemption arc through sheer thirst.

You groaned.

Everything ached.

Your side was bandaged tight, your arms bruised, and your brain felt like someone had replaced it with a dried-out sponge.

You blinked slowly.

“…Did we win?”

“Unfortunately,” came Zoro’s voice from nearby.

You turned your head just in time to see him walk into view—arms crossed, scowl heavy, that very particular “you’re-an-idiot-and-I-care-about-you” aura rolling off him.

“You survived,” he added, sounding mildly disappointed. “Which is impressive considering you tried to flirt your way through a boss battle.”

“It was strategic distraction,” you croaked.

Zoro walked over.

Slapped you gently—but firmly—on the head.

“OW—DUDE?!”

“That’s for going through a full-on Crocodile romance arc without backup.”

“I WAS LONELY AND HE HAD A CAPE,” you shouted, immediately regretting it as your side flared with pain.

He sat down beside the bed with a long sigh. “You’re lucky Luffy got there in time.”

“…Did he win?”

“Yeah. Beat Crocodile’s smug ass into the dirt. He’s gone. Poof. Sandboy evaporated.”

You sighed.

“…Shame. I liked the eyeliner.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“I’m healing,” you corrected, turning your head toward the sun-drenched window. “Emotionally and physically.”

Zoro snorted. “You lost a lot of blood.”

“Yeah. I also lost a 6’6 warlord with a hook hand and issues. I think the wound to the soul is worse.”

He picked up your pillow and lightly smacked you with it.

“Get some rest, idiot.”

You closed your eyes, smiling faintly.

“…Tell Croco I still think about him sometimes.”

“I’m telling Chopper to drug you.”

#x reader #one piece #reader insert #luffy #sanji #nami #nico robin #usopp #tony tony chopper #request #sir crocodile #crocodile one piece

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jungkoode · 1 day ago

Text

THE 25TH HOUR | O8

“𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐒”

"Your coffee is exactly the way you like it, though you do not remember having a preference over it, nor knowing Agent Min's. Just like you don't remember the coffee shop, or the barista. Or how, apparently, certain phrases trigger certain protocols."

next | index

— chapter details

word count: 5,4k

content: coffee details, sugar slander, yoongi hiding the softness (i see u mf), him leaving in the worst moment possible (oh no can you believe that), a barista thinking he's john wick and yoongi showing him he's indeed not (why am i laughing at this i'm so funny), idk fleeing, superpowers, golden tendrils/tentacles/traces and they're sensitive bc i'm a horny slut who loves drama, yoongi explaining his abilities and basically both of them being somewhat stranded.

— author’s note

OKAY OKAY OKAY—wow. phew.

Lemme just say I had to speed write this chapter like I was being chased by CHRONOS itself because I was NOT prepared for y’all to hit the chapter goals in like… two days. TWO. DAYS. Both on Wattpad and Tumblr. Kinda insane honestly but also like… slay Kiki Nation, we are so back.

This was a severe underestimation on my part and it 100% reflects in the goal numbers I set this round. Don’t look at me like that. This is entirely your doing.

NOW. As for this chapter: WOAH. I was so itchy to finally get into some action-packed scenes!!! I know it’s not a full-blown Marvel throwdown or anything but ughhhh I love the way it’s parried with uncovering new truths, a little sprinkling of Yoongi’s abilities, and just the faintest nod at Noma’s. We’re getting there, babies. We’re cooking with unstable temporal gas.

Sci-fi + superpowers = my drug. Inject it directly into my brainstem. This fic is honestly just me going full feral in my favorite genre and I love that you’re all just vibing with the chaos.

And hey—just a heads up—those golden traces / tendrils / tentacles / whatever-the-fuck you wanna call them? Yeah. They’re important. Not just plot-wise.

Oh no. We’re going smut-wards. You remember that little detail about them being sensitive? YEAH. Narrative seed. Planted. You’re welcome, you horny-ass goblins. I love your deranged asses because they are as feral as mine and I respect that.

Anyway. I’m gonna make that man suffer through overstimulation and there’s NOTHING you can do to stop me. Whoops. Who said that??

Godspeed and love. <3

— read on

ao3

wattpad

You’ve never registered an aversion to coffee.

Analysis confirms your preference: black, minimal dilution via milk, zero sweeteners. Sugar introduces an artificial variable, a taste profile your palate rejects as inefficient data.

The cup sits between your hands now, untouched. Heat radiates outwards, a minor thermal signature registering in your system. You stare into the dark liquid, a reflective surface showing nothing but distorted ceiling lights. Your mind searches for a focal point, a problem to solve, but the what remains elusive, fragmented.

Beside you, Agent Min occupies the adjacent stool. His presence is a known variable, yet the proximity registers as… different. Static cling without the static.

His coffee mirrors yours in its lack of sugar, but deviates in the absence of milk. Plain black. Stark. Your internal database flags this information, yet registers no 'new entry' timestamp. It’s data already logged, sourced from… where?

The query returns a null set.

Error. File not found.

“Good?”

The query comes from him. Low frequency, minimal inflection. You lift your gaze, meeting his across the short distance. Dark eyes, partially obscured by mint smudges of hair that have fallen across his forehead.

Analysis identifies a lack of direct eye contact, his focus aimed somewhere near your left temple.

A defensive posture? Or observational?

You tilt your head, a minor adjustment of 15 degrees. Querying his query.

The corner of his mouth flickers. A micro-expression, barely perceptible, suppressed almost instantly. He’s withholding an upward curve, a smile response.

Why?

“I mean you,” he clarifies, voice maintaining its low, even tone. “Not the coffee.”

You redirect your focus to the cup. The brown surface ripples slightly as you shift your weight. You deliberately defocus your vision, blurring the edges of the ceramic rim.

Unconscious action.

Flagged for later analysis.

“Yeah, just…” The sentence terminates prematurely. Insufficient data to complete the thought. Or perhaps, excess data causing system overload.

He mirrors your earlier gesture, head tilting towards you. An eyebrow arches. A non-verbal prompt for continuation. Standard interrogation technique.

“I knew Robin.” The words emerge, low volume, clinical detachment coating the raw data point.

He nods once. A slow, measured movement. No verbal response. He allows the silence to expand, granting you control over the data flow.

“And now he’s gone.” You complete the statement.

Flat delivery. Fact confirmed.

His gaze drops to his own cup. He lifts it, takes a sip. The motion is fluid, economical. He places the cup back down without a sound. Four seconds pass. Five.

“I got him erased.” The statement escapes as a whisper, approximately 17 decibels.

A conclusion reached through flawed logic, yet carrying an unexpected physical weight. Something constricts within your chest cavity, pressure.

His response is immediate. No processing delay.

“No.”

The word is rough, textured like sandpaper against concrete. A rasp that cuts through the low hum.

“CHRONOS got him erased.” He pauses, intake of breath audible. “That’s what they do.”

"I mentioned the temporal anomaly to him." You mutter, the unidentified strain expanding behind your sternum. "Probability suggests that's why they targeted him."

"They were already watching him," he says, voice calibrated to exactly 40 decibels. "Your conversation may have accelerated their timeline, but he was already flagged."

You process this new data point, running probability calculations against known variables.

"How can you be certain?"

His eyes meet yours—pupil dilation increasing by 7.3% in the 0.7 seconds of direct contact.

"Because I've been tracking their erasure patterns for longer than you've been alive."

The statement contains multiple logical inconsistencies.

Agent Min does not look significantly older than you.

Yet your temporal analysis centers don't flag it as a falsehood.

Your glance moves back to the cup.

"Robin kept succulents on his desk," you say, the information surfacing without clear relevance markers. "Three of them. Arranged by height. He watered them every Tuesday at 14:27."

Yoongi's face produces some series of micro-adjustments in 17 distinct facial muscles that combine to form something your pattern recognition identifies as... compassion?

The classification feels incorrect, but alternatives rank lower in probability.

"You're processing grief," he observes, voice modulating to a softer cadence. "It's normal."

The diagnosis feels foreign. Incorrect. Your emotional processing centers operate at 98.7% efficiency. You would recognize grief.

Wouldn't you?

"I barely knew him," you counter. "We shared 17 lunch periods over 4.7 months. Total interaction time: 23.8 hours. Insufficient for meaningful emotional attachment."

Yoongi takes another sip of his coffee. The liquid level decreases by exactly 12 milliliters.

"Grief isn't always logical," he says after 2.3 seconds of silence. "Sometimes it's just... human."

The cadence in his last word triggers some unexpected response in you.

"I'm not experiencing grief," you insist. "I'm experiencing statistical anomalies in my cognitive processing."

His eyes meet yours again—0.9 seconds of contact that somehow feels heavier than its temporal parameters suggest.

"Call it whatever you need to. The result is the same."

Your fingers adjust on the cup again—pressure decreasing by 0.2 kilograms as your muscles unconsciously respond to his voice.

"What is the statistical probability that my conversation with Robin directly caused his erasure?"

Yoongi's expression darkens—brow lowering by 0.4 centimeters, jaw tensing with 31% more force.

"You're looking for a percentage to quantify your guilt," he observes, voice edged. "It doesn't work that way."

"Everything works that way," you argue. "Reality is quantifiable. Causality is measurable. Effect follows cause at precisely calculable intervals."

"Not in the 25th hour. Not with CHRONOS."

Silence spreads as his thumb traces the rim of his cup-three precise rotations counterclockwise. Then, he speaks again, needing to make a point.

"Consistency matters now more than ever. CHRONOS is auditing behavioral patterns with 62% increased scrutiny since last quarter."

You frown. "Source?"

"Erratic temporal enforcement." His finger taps the ceramic once—sharp, percussive. "Fourteen percent spike in memory wipes. Thirty-three percent decrease in Outlier survival rates post-detection."

The numbers land like ice chips down your spine. "Correlation doesn't imply causation."

His eyes narrow by 0.3 millimeters. "You think they're redecorating parks for aesthetic purposes?"

You ignore the rhetorical jab. "Recommended behavioral adjustments?"

"Normalcy. No deviations from established routines. No unscheduled interactions. No..."

His gaze flicks to your hands.

“...idle curiosity."

You follow his line of sight.

Your fingers have been tracing infinity symbols in condensation on the table.

A subconscious pattern emerging at 2.7-second intervals.

"Noted."

You wipe the moisture away with a napkin, friction coefficient registering 0.4 higher than standard paper stock.

"They're cross-referencing biometrics with temporal signatures now. Elevated heart rate during routine scans triggers immediate audits."

Your pulse spikes by 11.2 bpm at the implication. "You're suggesting emotional suppression."

"I'm suggesting survival. Your body can't afford inconvenient truths right now."

The phrase 'inconvenient truths' lodges in your cortex, sparking 37 simultaneous neural queries.

All return access-denied.

"Define 'normalcy' parameters."

"Wake at 06:00. Work until 18:30. Consume 427 calories at designated intervals. Report all temporal irregularities except the ones we cause."

"Compliance seems..." You search for the optimal term. "...counterintuitive to resistance efforts."

“You think rebellion looks like fireworks and manifesto drops?" Leather creaks as he leans closer, mint and ozone sharpening the air between you. "Real resistance happens in the microseconds they don't monitor."

Your retinas capture the exact moment his pupils dilate—3.2% expansion correlating with proximity increase.

"Such as?"

"The 25th hour. The only time they can't see us."

Your watch beeps softly—temporal variance: 0.89%.

He pulls back instantly, posture reset to neutral. "Stick to the numbers. The patterns. The lies they've programmed you to live."

The coffee turns bitter on your tongue, pH shifting by 0.2.

"And you?"

“I'll be the ghost in their machine."

Ghost.

The word settles in your chest, impossibly making it warmer.

Then, the lights flicker—a couple times—as CHRONOS agents pass outside the window. Their shadows stretch across the floor in elongated distortions, limbs warped by the glass's refractive index.

You count their footsteps.

He counts your breaths.

A soft exhale from his lips—a controlled release of 1.2 liters of air over 2.4 seconds.

Rising from the stool, he stretches his neck 37 degrees to the left, then 42 degrees right. The vertebrae produce three distinct clicks at frequencies between 73 and 81 hertz.

His cup sits empty. Yours remains 73% full.

That same suppressed curve at the corner of his mouth does a reappearance.

Your pattern recognition flags it as the third occurrence of this specific micro-expression in the past 18 minutes.

“I need to use the restroom.” His statement is direct, efficient. “Wait here.”

You nod once—a 15-degree downward tilt followed by an equivalent upward correction. Optimal response to a simple directive.

He moves 1.7 meters toward the back of the establishment before pivoting 170 degrees. His eyebrows lift by 0.4 centimeters, creating three distinct lines across his forehead.

“You’ll be okay?”

The question registers as anomalous. Its premise suggests a concern disproportionate to the circumstances. Your brow furrows, creating a 0.3-centimeter depression between your eyebrows.

He shakes his head, dismissing the moment, and disappears behind the door marked RESTROOM—white letters, slightly chipped, 7.2 degrees off center.

You pivot on the stool, body angled toward the counter.

The coffee sits there, cooling. You sip. It’s gone tepid. Your thumb traces the rim, mapping the circumference for the third time.

The bartender approaches. Male, mid-thirties, dark hair, clean apron. Smile at 65% intensity.

“Not a fan of the coffee?” he asks, voice pitched for casual friendliness. “You’ve been staring at it longer than drinking.”

You blink twice. Processing. “No, it’s fine.”

He leans in, elbows on the counter. “You sure? Most people ask for sugar. Or something sweet.”

You shake your head. “I don’t like sweeteners. They distort the baseline flavor profile.”

He laughs, easy. “That’s… specific.”

His gaze lingers, searching for something.

“You come here often? I don’t recognize you.”

You hesitate, brain skipping. “Not that I remember.”

The words fall out, unfiltered. He goes still. Smile vanishes. His hand drops below the counter—movement too smooth.

Cold metal presses to your temple. Soft click.

You catalog the sensation.

Barrel diameter: 9mm.

Temperature: room.

Pressure: firm, not shaking.

His voice drops, all pretense gone. “Don’t move. Don’t speak.”

You comply.

Data input: threat detected.

Output: unknown.

Your retinal sensors register gold first—erratic sparks at 11 o'clock, 43 centimeters from your focal point.

The barista's weapon hand undergoes rapid cellular decay: skin desiccating at 3.7 millimeters per second, muscle tissue liquefying with 92% efficiency. His scream measures 114 decibels—pain response authentic, but temporal signature reveals 0.8-second delay.

Agent Min's grip materializes around your wrist before the decay reaches radial artery. His fingers burn at 39.1°C, golden threads weaving through his leather gloves. The world blurs—not from speed, but temporal interference.

Your internal chronometer confirms: local time dilation of 47%.

"Move." The command vibrates at 87 Hz, bypassing auditory processing to embed directly in your motor cortex.

Your legs comply before conscious thought engages. Adrenaline spikes—17.3% above baseline. The cafe exits warp as you pass, doorframes appearing to bend at 12-degree angles—an optical illusion caused by the temporal distortion field surrounding you.

CHRONOS agents materialize in peripheral vision, their movements unnaturally segmented—3.1 frames per second versus standard 24. Their comms chatter fractures into your awareness:

"—emporal breach Sector 4-Alpha—"

"—arget exhibits Reality Shifter signatures—"

"—containment protocol Theta-7 authorized—"

Yoongi pivots 170 degrees, dragging you into an alley where air molecules vibrate at 0.7x normal frequency. His free hand glows faintly gold, pressed against the brick wall. Mortar ages backward then forward in precise spiral patterns—2.3 revolutions per second, creating a passageway exactly 0.9 meters wide.

"Don't breathe," he warns as you pass through particulate matter suspended in his temporal field.

Your lungs register 14% oxygen decrease.

Insufficient for hypoxia.

Sufficient for discomfort.

The alley deposits you onto a street where Agent Min(?) has slowed time by 23%. Pedestrians move at imperceptible rates, their coffee cups appearing frozen at 37-degree angles. His temporal manipulation leaves gold afterimages—3.2-second persistence in your peripheral vision.

Your Chrono-Sync Watch beeps erratically:

TEMPORAL VARIANCE: 4.89%

ANOMALY DETECTED

His grip tightens—42.7 kilograms of pressure now, necessary to anchor you against increasing temporal distortion. Without his stabilizing touch, you assume your untrained body would suffer severe temporal drag.

"Focus on my voice," he commands, words layered with harmonic frequencies that stabilize your inner ear fluid against the disorienting effects of his temporal field.

CHRONOS drones breach the time dilation field behind you, their propulsion systems screeching at 17 kHz—the exact resonant frequency that makes your temples protest.

They're designed to track and pursue through temporal distortions. You know this from your training, what they taught you. Or at least, what they wanted you to be taught.

But Yoongi never looks back; not even once.

Nature’s lumbar support leaves much to be desired.

The wall at your back is jagged, scraping through your shirt, stone biting into skin. Yoongi’s breath saws out next to you, sharp, furious. He rounds on you, eyes wild, voice pitched higher than baseline.

"What the fuck did you do?"

The question isn't a question—it’s an accusation wrapped in 87 decibels of controlled fury. You straighten 2.3 centimeters, ignoring how the rock tears at your jacket.

“I answered his query within established social parameters."

His laugh is all sharp edges. "Parameters? You told a CHRONOS informant you didn't remember him!"

"Statistical probability suggested—"

"Probability?" He steps into your space, mint and ozone overpowering the cave's damp musk. "They've activated civilian reporting protocols! That bartender was required to log every customer interaction!"

Your pulse spikes-+18bpm. "Unforeseen variable. You didn't brief me on—"

"I literally just said don't deviate from normalcy!" The wall cracks behind him, hairline fractures spreading at 3mm/second. "Normal people don't have memory gaps about coffee shops!"

You catalog the wall damage—microcrystalline structure failure inconsistent with human strength.

Fascinating.

New data point: Agent Min's capabilities exceed known parameters.

"My response was logically sound," you counter. "Approximately 72% of humans experience—"

"Logically suicidal." Gold sparks dance in his irises now. "They train those informants to flag exactly that phrase."

The revelation triggers 23 simultaneous neural queries.

"Why would 'not that I remember' trigger—"

"Because Outliers say it when their memories glitch!" He's closer now, 47cm instead of 72. "Basic fucking tradecraft, Noma."

You flinch at the nickname. "You expect me to intuit unpublished surveillance tactics?"

"I expect you to listen when I say CHRONOS is hunting us." The gold intensifies, threads weaving through his clenched fists. "That man wasn't armed until you turned him into a threat."

"Correlation fallacy." Your voice drops to 19dB. "You lack evidence that—"

The cave wall explodes.

Not literally—just Yoongi's fist connecting with stone 3.2cm from your head. Dust cascades downward as he withdraws his hand, skin unmarred.

"Evidence?" His breath ghosts across your lips, warmer than human biology allows. "You think decay patterns manifest spontaneously?"

Realization crystallizes.

The bartender's rotting hand. The gold threads. The temporal distortion.

Your eyes narrow. "You altered his cellular decay rate."

"To save your statistically suicidal ass."

"Without consent."

"Without options.”

The standoff lasts 4.7 seconds.

"You're an anomaly," he growls. "Stop acting like one."

"Variables require data." You match his glare. "Which you hoard like a fucking dragon."

His hands rake through mint hair, leaving it standing at precisely 47-degree angles.

"Because I have no other fucking choice!" The words explode from him, raw and jagged. "Every piece of information I give you is another potential trigger. Another way for CHRONOS to find you. To erase you. Again."

That word. ‘Again’. He keeps saying it, like it’s something he can’t lodge out of his throat.

Yet, for his incredible powers, he seems unable to prevent what he fears most.

What ‘again’ means to him.

Your eyes narrow, recalculating.

"So your ability..." You pause, watching his muscles tense. "Time manipulation?"

His eyes flick to yours, then away. A non-answer that answers everything.

"You aged his hand by 70 years, at minimum." Your voice steadies as you shift to analysis mode. "Accelerated cellular decay, targeted temporal field. Fascinating."

"83 actually." The correction is automatic. Petulant. He slides down the wall beside you, knees cracking at 73 and 81 hertz. "Time Anchor. That's the technical classification."

You catalog the term, cross-referencing against known temporal phenomena.

No matches found.

"I can't create or destroy time." His voice drops, rougher now. "I can only... redistribute it. Accelerate decay in one place, slow it in another."

Your fingers twitch with the urge to document, to measure. "Conservation of temporal energy."

"Something like that." He flexes his right hand, and you notice the faint gold shimmer beneath his skin—network of lines like circuitry, pulsing at 0.7-second intervals. "Every action has a cost."

"The gold." You gesture toward his hand. "Temporal bleed?"

His eyebrow lifts 0.3 centimeters. "For someone who claims to know nothing, you make impressive leaps."

"Pattern recognition is my primary function." You shift, angling your body 12 degrees toward his. "What's the cost?"

His laugh lacks humor, registering at 42% below standard mirth indicators.

"Depends on what I'm doing. Age someone's hand? Minor headache, maybe some joint pain. Stop time completely?" He taps his temple. "Migraines that would kill a normal person."

You process this, calculating energy transfer ratios.

"And the 25th hour?"

"That's different." His voice drops another 3 decibels. "That's not me. That's... a system error. Something CHRONOS never accounted for."

"That you exploit."

"That we exploit." He corrects, eyes meeting yours. "Some of us, anyway."

"How many like you exist?"

"Time Anchors?" He shrugs, the movement exact despite its casual appearance. "Only me, that I know of.”

The admission feels sad.

Terribly lonely.

"And me?"

The question emerges before your logic centers can evaluate its prudence; and his eyebrows twitch, eyes staring directly onto the ground.

"You're something else entirely."

"Define 'something else,'" you request, shifting your position against the wall to better observe him.

The movement causes a minor increase in discomfort—rock surface irregularities creating pressure points along your vertebrae.

But they do not register as important in the face of acquiring new information.

Agent Min finally exhales—which suggests internal debate about information disclosure parameters.

"I can show you," he says finally, voice dropping. "But you need to understand that what I'm about to do is extremely detectable. If there are any CHRONOS agents within 400 meters, they'll register it."

You calculate risk factors, weighing variables against known CHRONOS response protocols.

"Current location provides approximately 87% concealment from standard monitoring," you observe. "Probability of detection: 13.2%."

His mouth quirks—almost-smile that never fully materializes.

"Always with the numbers," he mutters, but it doesn't register as annoyance—rather something warmer.

He extends his right hand, palm up, and focuses his attention on it with an intensity that alters his breathing pattern by 0.4 seconds per cycle.

At first, nothing happens.

Then—

Gold.

Liquid light emerges from his fingertips, tendrils of energy that move with fluidity. They spiral outward in clockwise rotations, creating phenomenons that defy any standard classification parameters.

Your pupils dilate by approximately 28%, heart rate increasing by 17 beats per minute.

"Temporal energy," he explains, voice steady despite the obvious energy expenditure. "Direct manifestation of my ability."

The golden traces move like extensions of himself, responding to minute shifts in his focus. They emit no measurable heat signature yet appear fluid, almost liquid in their movement patterns.

"Fascinating," you breathe, leaning closer to observe better. "How do they work? What's their composition? Can they interact with physical matter or are they purely energetic manifestations?"

Your questions tumble out in rapid succession, each one triggering three more in your mind. The analytical part of you wants to measure, catalog, understand—but something else, something less quantifiable, simply wants to touch.

He watches you cautiously, measuring your reaction.

"They're extensions of temporal force," he explains. "I can manipulate objects through their timeline states—age them forward or backward, freeze them in their current temporal position."

The golden traces curl and twist above his palm, creating complex patterns that seem to follow mathematical principles.

"Can I—" You hesitate, unusual break in your typically decisive speech pattern. "Would contact damage them? Or me?"

"No damage," he says carefully. "But they're... sensitive."

The word choice seems odd, triggering your curiosity further.

"Sensitive how?" you press, eyes tracking the golden movements.

He sighs—perhaps denoting exhaustion.

"They're direct extensions of my temporal energy. I feel what they feel."

You process this information.

"Like nerve endings," you suggest.

"Yeah… Something like that."

Decision made, you extend your hand toward the nearest tendril, moving slowly to allow him time to withdraw if needed.

He doesn't.

Your fingertip makes contact with the golden energy.

The sensation is... unexpected.

The trace feels solid yet fluid simultaneously, warm without heat, substantial without mass. But what registers most prominently is Yoongi's immediate reaction—sharp intake of breath, pupils dilating by approximately 32%, micro-tremor in his left hand.

You pull back instantly, recalculating.

"Did that hurt?" you ask, cataloging his physiological responses.

"No." His voice drops by 2.7 hertz. "Not hurt."

No further clarification.

Your own pulse increases by another 8 beats per minute in response.

Oh.

You reach out again, this time with intent, and trace your finger along the golden tendril. It responds to your touch, curling around your fingertip like it's greeting you.

Yoongi's breathing pattern alters—inhalation extending by 0.7 seconds, exhalation shortening by 0.4.

"They recognize you," he says, voice rougher than before.

"That's impossible," you counter automatically. "We've never interacted like this before."

His eyes meet yours, holding for 2.3 seconds—longer than his usual 0.8-second maximum.

"They recognize you," he repeats, simply.

The golden trace wrapped around your finger pulses slightly, the rhythm matching your heartbeat with 97.3% synchronicity.

"What else can they do?" you ask, scientific curiosity temporarily overriding everything else.

He flexes his fingers slightly, and the traces extend further, creating a complex network of golden energy between you.

"They can interact with physical objects," he demonstrates, directing a tendril toward a small rock.

The stone ages rapidly, crumbling to dust in 3.2 seconds. Another rock reverts to its geological past—crystallizing into a perfect quartz formation.

"Temporal manipulation at a distance," you observe, mind going through all possible applications, limitations, variables.

"Yes."

You watch as the traces move with increasing confidence around you, never touching without your initiation, but clearly... aware of your presence.

"And these are unique to Time Anchors?" you ask, testing another hypothesis.

"Each type of Outlier has their own manifestation," he says carefully. "Mine happens to be temporal, and in tendrils of different sizes."

You detect deliberate vagueness, information being withheld.

"What's mine?"

The traces flicker briefly, responding to some change in his emotional state.

"That's something you'll have to discover yourself," he says finally.

You frown, dissatisfied with the non-answer.

"More cryptic responses. Inefficient communication strategy."

His mouth quirks again.

"Some things can't be told, Noma. They have to be experienced."

You reach out again, this time allowing your entire hand to pass through the network of golden energy. The traces respond immediately, wrapping around your fingers, sliding between them.

Yoongi's breath catches, the sound barely audible at 17 decibels.

"These are... remarkably sensitive," you observe.

"Yes." The word emerges strained, tightly controlled.

A hypothesis forms. You test it by deliberately trailing your fingers through the traces with a bit more pressure.

His reaction is immediate—pupils dilating to 7.1 millimeters, pulse visible at his throat increasing to approximately 92 beats per minute, a muscle in his jaw tensing with 47% more force.

"Interesting," you murmur, filing away this reaction for future analysis.

"We should stop," he says, voice rougher than before. "Extended manifestation increases detection risk."

Logical. Rational.

Yet you find yourself strangely reluctant to end the experiment.

"One more question," you negotiate, still not withdrawing your hand from the golden network. "Why do they move in clockwise patterns specifically?"

His eyes meet yours again, unreadable.

"Because that's how time moves," he says simply. "Forward. Clockwise."

You correlate with your observations.

"And if something moved counterclockwise?" you ask, the question emerging from some intuitive part of your mind rather than your analytical centers.

The traces flicker again, responding to something in his emotional state.

"That would be something else entirely," he says, echoing his earlier statement.

Before you can press further, he withdraws, the golden traces retracting into his skin. The absence leaves the air feeling strangely empty, lacking some vital element you hadn't noticed until it was gone.

Your fingertips tingle with residual sensation—a ghastly feeling you don’t know how to categorize but for some reason find yourself missing.

"We need to move," he says, voice returning to its normal cadence. "We've stayed in one place too long."

He is right.

You don’t know why you still want to touch those golden traces.

You rise instead, calculating the most efficient exit route while your mind continues processing this new data point: Agent Min’s golden traces recognize you, despite having no logical reason to do so.

Another anomaly to add to your growing collection.

He presses his right wrist with two fingers, applying precisely 2.1 kilograms of pressure to the outer edge of his Chrono-Sync Watch. The device responds with a soft sound—around 17 decibels, so barely perceptible even in the cave's acoustic environment.

A holographic display materializes 4.7 centimeters above the watch face, projecting a three-dimensional map of Sector 4 with pulsing red markers scattered across its surface.

You lean forward, immediately registering the discrepancy: standard Chrono-Sync Watch models lack holographic projection capabilities.

"What is that?"

Yoongi doesn't look up, his focus entirely on the floating map as he rotates it 37 degrees with a precise finger movement.

"Modified," he says simply, the explanation as efficient as always. "I told you."

You study the hologram, cataloging design parameters and technical specifications with automatic precision.

"Quantum-projection module integration into a Chrono-Sync interface would require bypassing at least seven encryption protocols," you observe, mind already mapping the engineering challenges. "The power requirements alone would necessitate a modified lithium cell with 347% increased capacity. Not to mention the spatial compression algorithms needed to maintain holographic integrity without..."

Your analysis trails off as your eyes meet his over the floating display. The corner of his mouth twitches once more.

"You helped create this," he says quietly, fingers still moving through the projection.

The statement registers, but fails to connect with any accessible memory database.

"I did not." Your contradiction emerges automatically, precisely calibrated to express certainty.

He doesn't argue. Doesn't press. Simply continues manipulating the map with those agile, gloved fingers, eyes occasionally flicking to your face as if contemplating your reaction.

Silence expands between you for exactly 4.3 seconds before your curiosity overrides caution.

"Where are we going?" you ask, redirecting the conversation away from memory discrepancies that trigger uncomfortable neural responses.

"I'm mapping our closest access point," he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

His index finger traces a route through the holographic streets, calculating distances with the same analytical precision you recognize in yourself.

"We need to reach one of the travel spots within the next 37 minutes. Our temporal signature trail is too fresh after that... incident."

"Travel spots?"

You catalog the unfamiliar terminology, cross-referencing against known CHRONOS lexicon.

No matches found.

Yoongi's fingers pause at exactly 23 degrees northeast of your current position. His throat works—a slight contraction suggesting hesitation.

"I..."

His voice hovers over the simple noun. He swallows once, recalibrating.

"Travel spots are access points," he continues, voice modulated in a way that suggests internal editing. "Strategic locations throughout the city that allow direct transport to the 7th Hour headquarters."

"Teleportation technology? That's theoretically impossible given current quantum limitations."

"Not teleportation. Temporal-spatial warping." His finger taps a pulsing blue marker on the map. "These portals use existing weak points in CHRONOS's reality grid."

Theoretical models. Probability factors. Energy requirements.

"The energy necessary to maintain stable reality tunnels would exceed—"

"That's why they're not tunnels," he interrupts, eyes still fixed on the map. "They're more like... doors. Open only when needed, closed immediately after use."

You lean closer, studying the blue markers. Their distribution follows no discernible pattern—a deliberate randomization algorithm to prevent predictive tracking.

"Why can't CHRONOS detect them?" you ask, probing for weaknesses.

"They can detect the activation," he answers, voice tightening slightly. "But not follow through. The portals are specially calibrated to recognize Outlier temporal signatures. Anyone else attempting to pass through would trigger an immediate collapse."

You frown, recalculating. "But my temporal signature is registered in the CHRONOS database. Wouldn't that trigger their defense systems?"

His eyes flick to yours briefly—0.7 seconds of direct contact.

"Your official signature is a fabrication. The real one..." He pauses, choosing his words with unusual care. "The real one is already authorized in our system."

Another anomaly to catalog.

Another fragment that doesn't fit your accessible memory database.

"So we access one of these points, and it transports us directly to your headquarters?" you confirm, redirecting toward practical logistics.

"Yes." He closes the holographic display with an easy gesture. "But we need to be careful. After what happened at the coffee shop, they'll be scanning for temporal disturbances with heightened sensitivity."

You tilt your head, considering.

"And why haven't you contacted your team? Surely they could provide assistance or extraction."

His eyes flicker to you. Presses his lips together. Then, answers.

"Communications are compromised in this sector," he explains. "Any encrypted transmission would register on CHRONOS monitoring systems. They'd triangulate our position within 3.7 seconds."

"Your golden traces," you observe, connecting variables. "The temporal display at the coffee shop would have triggered every sensor within 1.5 kilometers."

"Precisely why we need to move quickly." He cracks his neck again, just like he did back in the coffee shop. "Our window is closing. That display was necessary but costly from a strategic perspective."

Your mind reconstructs the coffee shop incident—the bartender's decay, the golden traces, the immediate pursuit.

"You risked substantial exposure to extract me," you state, the realization forming fully. "Statistically, that decision carried a 78.3% probability of compromising your entire operation."

He doesn’t explain. Doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t try to correct you. Just lets silence stretch for three seconds.

"Some variables outweigh probability," he says finally.

"I still don't understand why you can't simply use your temporal abilities to transport us directly. If you can manipulate time—"

"I manipulate time, not space," he sighs. "I can slow it, accelerate it, even stop it briefly. But I can't move through it. That's..."

He hesitates again, that same weighted pause.

"That's a different ability entirely."

You catalog this limitation, updating your mental model of his capabilities.

"And these portals combine both temporal and spatial manipulation," you deduce, connecting data points.

"Yes." The confirmation is clipped, efficient. "They were designed specifically to compensate for the limitations of individual Outlier abilities."

"Designed by who?"

His eyes meet yours again—1.4 seconds this time, 75% longer than his usual pattern.

"By us," he says simply.

The pronoun registers with unexpected weight.

Us. Collective. Collaborative.

You and him.

Your Chrono-Sync Watch beeps softly: Temporal variance: 1.07%.

"We need to move," he says, already turning toward the cave entrance. "The nearest travel spot is 1.7 kilometers northeast. If we maintain optimal pace while avoiding main thoroughfares, we should arrive within the acceptable window."

You follow, legs automatically adjusting to match his stride, body responding to cues your conscious mind hasn't processed.

Another anomaly. Another piece of the puzzle.

You catalog it alongside all the others, building your database of inconsistencies, contradictions, and inexplicable familiarities.

Someday, you'll find the pattern that connects them all.

But for now, you follow the ghost with golden traces, moving through a city that feels increasingly like a simulation with every step.

goal: 250 notes

next | index

— taglist

@cannotalwaysbenight @taevanille @itstoastsworld @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @ktownshizzle @yoongiiuu93 @billy-jeans23 @annyeongbitch7 @mar-lo-pap @hobis-sprite0218 @mikrokookiex @minniejim @curse-of-art @cristy-101 @mellyyyyyyx

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

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hyukwwn · 3 days ago

Text

One , Two , You're the girl that i want – ft. Sabbath Crew .

summary protective sabbath crew on your way, so you better prepare for some bloody show.

a/n this req is for some anon.. i accidentally deleted the supposed post (ーー;).. anyway. i hope anon sees this!

warnings mentions of blood.

dividers credit @cafekitsune . banner credit @/shakunetsu on X .

YOO WOOIN . ¿ ¡

if you ask me about him i'd write a whole essay about how attractive his personality is. may hint some kind of a sadist.. but you know, he's quite fun to imagine as a boyfriend.

and.. you don't know how come you're having a nice conversation with the other crew while waiting for your crew's turn to get on track and compete.

and unbeknownst to you, someone has been darting his sharp eyes towards you and the guy you're talking to. like a snake.

look at you. all giggly and smily. wasn't all that supposed to be only for him to witness? is there any other funny guy other than him?

meanwhile.. you're just enjoying how the flow in your conversation goes. not noticing the aura that's coming from not far away from you.

maybe wooin is just too obsessive.. he can't be acting like that right?

"hey, whatcha talking 'bout huh?" a pair of arms snaked around your waist delicately as his familiar voice drops on your right ear.

you were about to give a nasty act when you realised its your boyfriend.

"hi! oh no, we're just talking about the race." your face innocently looking at him as if nothing was wrong.

he returns your smile with one of his own, before standing straight back again to glare at the guy in front of you.

"you know what? i think its not that important for you to talk about it at the moment hm? don't you want to focus on the race more and not be in some useless conversation?" oh his voice was straight, full of playfulness but still, you get the hint that he didn't like what you did there.

you gave the guy an apologetic look when both of you and wooin walks away and he just nods with an awkward smile. maybe he did not know that the person you're dating is someone that he really is afraid of the most.

intertwined hands, his other stuffed into his pocket, you both head your ways to somewhere else.

"was that your new boyfriend?" wooin says with a sarcastic tone.

"you're jealous aren't you?"

"no i'm not."

"yes you are."

then he stops his tracks and looks at you. his low gaze makes it seems like he's pissed off. which he is.. but he quickly covered that with a cunning smile.

"you're lucky you're cute. otherwise i'd have to beat him into a pulp. thanks to you someone's saved a broken bone."

and.. would you believe if i say that he got the guy's crew disqualified after their team and Sabbath coincidentally raced against each other's? its a type of revenge. he won't actually lay a fist on that poor guy. or did he?

KWON HYUK . ¿ ¡

probably not the expressive one. but still. "when he takes interest in someone, no one can stop him."

of course you had to bump into your childhood friend whom you lost contact with. and maybe its not the best time to meet him here.

you were just waiting for hyuk in front of the dark alley, clueless of why he had to see someone in this specific spot. but either way, you agreed and insisted on staying out of his business.

"you've gotten pretty y/n. you sure don't have a boyfriend?" he says with an airy laugh.

"i told you i do! why are you doubting me like this?"

"oh no, just curious why it had to be someone other than me when its clear that i've known you best."

the small talk was nice. until someone had to pop out at this exact moment.

"yeah i've been wondering too why she chose some other than you." a voice from behind you rough, yet laid back and chill.

his tall figure hovering over your back has your friend looking slightly up at him, causing his smile to drop into a straight-nervous face.

hyuk stared down at your little friend, half his face being covered with a white mask making him look a little intimidating by how mysterious he was.

"oh! he's my boyfriend. don't mind it." you casually said to him. it was as if you were too used to hyuk sneaking up behind you with a light footsteps and suddenly starts talking.

"o– okay. i see. i think i gotta leave, no? i– i have to meet some friends– bye!" then he quickly walks away with sweats wetting the collar of his shirt.

he left you confused on why his tone suddenly changed into an urgent one. but you brushed it off. maybe you'll meet him again someday. and maybe he will warm up to your boyfriend.

your head still kept towards the direction he went, hut hyuk's figure blocked your view while he looked that way too.

"i was just clearing up his assumptions." hyuk says before turning his head down towards you. "who was that?"

your smile crept up again, taking his hand in your petite ones and locking your fingers together.

"just my old acquaintance."

hyuk sighs, jealousy washes over him as he heard what that guy was to you. he's not overreacting. its just the way he is. because you're his.

"make him a stranger. he's no longer your familiar."

JOKER/HAJUN . ¿ ¡

a little more to actions than talking. so if he's quieter than usual, you should be scared at least a little.

joker doesn't mind you at all having lots of familiars. much less the closest ones. he'll sense it if you're feeling threatened,, or even uncomfortable by someone that you know or not.

and that fact would end up his fist being light to land it on someone.

watching you socialise with everyone while he stood close behind you, most conversations would last a second when the other person saw him staring down at them.

but this time, he was not with you. he had to make excuses to go to the toilet so he left you to just be in your circle of friends.

just that.. when he steps out of the restroom he just saw you being touched by some loser? his arm draped over your shoulder mindlessly while he laughs and seems to be teasing you. your face says it all. even if you tried to wiggle away from that guy's grasp you would only be blocked by the other on your other side. clearly.. uncomfortable.

joker, walks towards you in no time with his fist clenching hard.

"haha–! you down for a drink tonight, girl? i'll pay." the guy grinned down at you, not taking notes of how nervous you look being side hugged by a random.

you simply shook your head, waving your palms up in refusal with an awkward smile and laugh.

"n– no.. thanks. could you let me go now?"

"oh, are you not going? bummer. a pretty girl like you deserves the whole bar–"

the guy's sentences paused midway when he felt a heavy hand being pressed on his shoulder and he quickly turned his head towards where that would come from.

"hey– you not respecting a guy and a girl's privacy? we're talking." he says without even making an eye contact with joker and just batting his eyes on his hand on his shoulder.

joker was.. mad. his girl being touched by other's and him being talked disrespectfully to..?

"let her go or break your skull." joker's voice raspy, quiet but really just intimidating.

the moment you heard him is the moment you broke away from that guy's hold and starts to tug on the hem of joker's sweater from behind, hiding yourself from the other guy.

"break my skull? is that a threat? 're you really going to or is it just all talk?" the guy let out an airy laugh, turning completely towards joker now.

joker feels his blood rushing through his veins, his thoughts full on wanting to beat this guy up for his cocky face and nasty acts. he regrets that he left you outside not knowing what could happen to you.

the night after the accident, you didn't really heard about your boyfriend when its passed 10. sure, he had gone home with you but he left again for some 'business'. you tried to think positively of why he might have to be out at this hour. but the thoughts of him hunting down the guy just now haunts your mind.

and the next thing you see when joker came to the apartment is that his face was not that bruised, blood splattered all over his clean white sweater and face all the way on his cheek across to the forehead. his fist all bloody, ripped skin.

that's all you need to know of how much he was holding in when you had softly convinced him to not make a big fight in public.

HONG VINNY . ¿ ¡

ooh, give me more about vinny mhm. this man right here does fly his punches everywhere if it pisses him off. quiet the rampage isn't he?

i wouldn't say that he would exactly beat someone up for talking to you but if that person is being shitty, expect him to come home with bruises painted all over his face.

and it happened to when you guys had a small evening biking + ice cream date. crazy to think that the person he laid his hand on was actually all talk at first.

the guy totally had to pay you for another ice cream because he bumped into your shoulder while walking and made your ice cream fell on the ground.

"what? it wasn't on purpose. why should i pay for it?" the guy rudely says after vinny had called him out.

"vinny.. let it slide!" you tried to get him to not start a fight, blocking him with your arms from walking towards the guy as he gave him his own ice cream.

"let it slide? fuck it, he was being an asshole!"

"me? asshole? the fuck do you want? you wanna throw fists? come here, twink." the guy spoke loudly as if playing a big role in between him and vinny just because vinny looked weak.

you sighed in frustration, then letting your arm slip away from him as you watch vinny charges a big punch on the guy's chin.

it was like a whole show, but the guy literally gave up before fourth punch, holding up his palm towards vinny considering defeat.

"okay, okay! fuck. i'll pay!"

that satisfied vinny. but it wasn't enough. did he expect to let the guy go that easily just by buying another same thing?

"no. apologies." vinny grinned, his fist still clenching on his sides while he stares down on him.

"sorry–"

"not to me! her!" vinny's finger pointed towards you behind, before you make your way next to vinny to also look down on the guy.

"i'm sorry miss– i'll give you 10$ for the mistake–"

then vinny snatched the dollar the guy handed, making sure it is the amount he had said before stuffing it into his pocket.

"next time.. say sorry properly, 'lright? don't raise your voice like a dog and end up getting beaten like a fucker." vinny placed small continuous harmless slaps on the guy's cheek as if patting some sense into his head.

he was rough on a small matter, but what's more important to him was your happiness and needs. but after you guys left the place you smacked a good hit on vinny's back for pulling public's attention.

do not repost , thank you for reading !

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