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moon-like-u · 3 months ago

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the butterfly effect

pairing: jeon wonwoo/reader

genre: sci-fi i think, time travel au! kinda angst

word count: 1,794

warnings: may be confusing because it jumps from previous and present timelines

synopsis: wonwoo can time travel and will do everything just to make you happy

a/n: hello omg it has been two years since my last post! i accidentally stumbled on my draft for this au and decided to finish it. i didn't proofread this anymore so hopefully it still makes sense by the end and that it's not too rushed ^___^ also i hope the narrative is not confusing with all the reminisces lol this felt long but apparently both junhui and joshua aus are still longer ahaha

You had warned him.

You already warned him that this would happen, but he was too stubborn to follow. Wonwoo feels the early afternoon air against his face as he walks the streets of the city with one destination in mind: the coffee shop, Hanabira.

He knows these streets all too well; the few apartment buildings among different restaurants and small businesses that seemingly fall together, the trees and light posts lining up the streets, the idle chatter of people, a string familiar of faces, even the cracks in the gravel full of perennial plants – all of these fell into place fitting like a puzzle, just like you and him, he thought.

It was also in these streets that he discovered his ability to time travel many years ago. Ever since then, he felt as if a huge responsibility rested upon his shoulders and at the same time, felt like nothing mattered, everything and anything was temporary – well, until he met you. You who drink coffee as if it were water, you who choose to walk with him on this very same street every time he asks you to, you who remember every single detail of your (and his) favorite books, plays, and songs and still manage to become forgetful. You who became the permanent fixture in his life among those that faded away.

He thinks back to when he asked what would you do if you had the ability to time travel. You had said that it would be a big responsibility to have, after all, you can change a lot of things that can alter human history. In terms of your personal life, you told Wonwoo that you would leave it exactly as it is.

The afternoon light was streaming through the blinds of his room, creatively lighting up the room as the both of you lounge on his bed. Wonwoo grabbed your hand as you sat up on your elbows.

“I’d rather not change anything in the past. Everything felt circumstantial, you know?” you pondered. “The day I met you, I wouldn’t change a thing. I love you and I want to meet you the very second we did.”

The bell on the door of Hanabira jingles as he walks in, the smell of coffee and vanilla greeting him. He remembers the day you met as if it were just yesterday. He smiles lightly as he recalls it.

During the middle of the day, Hanabira was booming with customers in line to get their cup of coffee and baked pastries. It was not a surprise that there was a long line that almost reached the entrance door. However, the peak hour was not the only reason why the line is long— you were there, holding up the line because you were short 10 won.

Wonwoo sees the panic in your eyes as you dig up your wallet, bag, and pockets to find nothing but a few paper receipts. He can’t help but notice how you already had a large coffee stain on your torso, coffee you probably spilled hours before. “Here,” he said as he gave the cashier 10 won, realizing he must put you out of your misery.

“Thank you,” you breathed out. “I’m not usually unprepared like this, if you don’t mind to keep in contact so I can pay you back.”

Wonwoo was surprised to see you look like you’re about to cry, wearing a coffee-stained long-sleeved shirt, and yet, you had this determined look on your face as if he just paid 1,000 won instead of 10.

“Sure,” he replies, speechless.

The rest was history. Wonwoo was glad he had 10 won to spare that day, for he felt like he was the luckiest man to have met you. He still does. Wonwoo would do everything just to see you happy. Wonwoo walked into Hanabira, taking in the place. It gives him a little comfort seeing how everything is still the same—it still looks like the same favorite place you ever so loved.

He looked over to the corner where the both of you sat and when you had poured your heart out to him. He remembered how you opened up to him that day in this very coffee shop, thinking that a heart-wrenching conversation with a random (cute) stranger that you would probably never meet again would help ease the pain. Wonwoo recalled how you explained to him that the reason you were tense and bought coffee with not enough money was that you missed an interview for a screenwriter position, your dream job. He found it ridiculous that you would not even change this part of your past if given the ability to time travel.

“But that interview was your dream, wouldn’t you at least try to change the past and attend the interview like you always wanted?” Wonwoo asks.

“Well, yeah. It is my dream. But still, I know I can do my best even without that interview. Even if I have to do other positions first before being promoted to a screenwriter. I know I’ll get there,” you said wistfully. “Besides, if I made it to that interview, I wouldn’t have met you, you know. And I couldn’t have that!” you said teasingly.

Wonwoo had laughed along with you then, but it got him thinking. It has been your dream since you were a kid. He remembers how you passionately defended the beauty of being a screenwriter when he expressed that being a director sounded more appealing, just to tease you.

“Screenwriters bring the magic directors can show. One is not above the other—both are staples to create something so beautiful in harmony through plays, movies and the like!” you attested.

It took you a while to realize that he was just messing with you, a feat that was rewarded with a slap in the arm. But it was then that he knew how much this meant to you. And Wonwoo, well, he wanted to give everything to you—even the world, if he can.

If there was one thing that Wonwoo learned and proved with his time travel abilities, it was the chaos theory, specifically the butterfly effect. It amused him how little changes really do cause big changes in a course of events, which is why he had to be careful and think about the repercussions of changing anything as little as moving the position of a park bench. It was how he just changed the batteries of a certain bus driver’s alarm clock that caused you to ride a bus that did not have reckless driving skills, which meant that you did not spill your coffee all over yourself and your resume. Which means that you had successfully entered the interview of your dream job, prepared, polished, and caffeinated.

“Sir? Excuse me, sir? I said that would be 4,400 won,” the cashier calls out.

Wonwoo snapped out of his reverie and handed the cashier his bills, “Sorry, I spaced out. Thank you.”

It has been three years in the timeline where you made it to the interview. You made it, Y/N, Wonwoo thinks as he sees your name is becoming known in the film industry. He wanted to celebrate with you, but in this timeline, he would just be another stranger to you. He knew this would happen, but he still went on and change the past despite you refuting the idea before.

“What if we still meet afterwards, in another day? Would you change the past this time?” he asks you.

You hummed, “It’s a risk, I still wouldn’t do it if I don’t have the reassurance that we’ll meet again.”

“I’m sure we’ll meet again in this scenario.”

“How sure are you? I think it was because of our decisions that day that we met, so, I still wouldn’t change a thing even though it would get me to that interview,” you said while tracing circles on his arm.

“No, I think it’s because of fate that we met,” he replied.

You raised your head from his chest to meet his eyes, “I didn’t take you for a sappy romantic.”

He chuckled, you felt the reverberations on his chest, “No, I just think we’re fated together, Y/N. I think that even if you were a popular, in-demand screenwriter, we’d still find our way to each other.”

“So in this scenario I'm popular and in-demand you say? What if I turn into a snob and refuse to meet you with all that fueling my ego?” you laughed.

“All the more why I should be there to pull you back down!” Wonwoo responded, suddenly attempting to tickle you. You laughed at the unexpected attack and responded with the same action. Both of you were lost in a series of laughs and tangled limbs.

Wonwoo recalled the memory with a bittersweet feeling. Of course, he considered looking for you and introducing himself, but he couldn’t think of a way that would not make him look like a madman. Hi, I’m Wonwoo. You were the love of my life in another timeline? He had not even told you of his time travel abilities before. He went to all the previous places you used to live in, but you never resided there in the present timeline. You had warned him that this would be a big change, that it would come with the risks of not meeting each other—and yet, he went ahead and did it. Still, he does not regret he did it. He just wishes he could be there to see you happy to have achieved your lifelong dream.

Back in the coffee shop, Wonwoo decided to take a walk outside with a sigh. We’ll meet again, I’m sure of it, he thinks. As soon as he went out Hanabira, he collided with someone and spilled the remainder of his now cold coffee onto the floor. Wonwoo noticed the dog first, and looked at the person. It was you.

“I am so sorry! My dog suddenly dragged me and ran all the way here, I swear he doesn’t usually get like this!” you said apologetically.

“It’s okay, he was probably just excited,” Wonwoo chuckled, as he kneeled down and petted the dog. Well, aren’t you a good boy, he thinks as he continues to pet the dog.

“Yeah, he loves walking in this part of the city!” you said, relieved. “I’m sorry I spilled your coffee though, how can I make it up to you?”

Wonwoo looks up at you with a smile, “What about a coffee for a coffee?” I told you it’s fate Y/N, we are just destined together in every timeline, he thinks. He stood up, reached out his hand, and said “Wonwoo, by the way.”

You smiled, “Y/N.”

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braxlrose · 1 year ago

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can you do the headcanons of Tokio Hotel and fem!reader whose main priority is to take care of them? in the sense that she puts their feelings before her own? like lacing their shoes, giving them flowers, making them happy, etc. 😭 literally bro overwhelms them with this tenderness.. fuck..in my head how they randomly walk along the sidewalk and suddenly she crouches and she ties their untied shoe 😭😭 or out of nowhere she gives them a flower because it reminds her of him😭 FUCK OR HOW SHE GIVES THEM DRINK FROM HER DRINK OHM🫡

me with a flower for Bill:

a/n: sorry that this took me so long to get too, but I hope you enjoy this and I hope you feel better!

tokio hotel x f!reader who takes care of them

• the whole band is so grateful for you. you're so sweet to them and are always helping them with stuff even when they didn't ask for it. they don't know what they'd do without you.

• whenever it's cold out, you're basically their mother. you buy them gloves/mittens, hats, jackets, scarves, everything. and you won't let them leave until you know they're warm.

• you will literally stand in the bathroom door and won't let them leave until they've finished brushing their teeth 💀 they complain about it, but at the end of the day, they all have pearly white.

• when they get sick, which isn't often because of you, but you won't leave their sides. you make them soup, and get them medicine, read to them. just sit with them and make sure they get rest.

• bringing them waterbottles after concerts so they aren't dehydrated after being on stage for so long.

• when you guys go on walks you're constantly bending down to tie their shoes because apparently they just lack the ability to do that 💀 they've told you like a million times you don't need to, but the last time you didn't, tom almost fell flat on his face

• you always stop and get them coffees in the morning. and you have their coffee orders memorized down to the last detail.

• sometimes you tire yourself out taking care of them but you can't seem to stop. it just helps you and makes you happy knowing you can take care of someone else and that you can make them feel safe and happy. and it helps you feel needed.

• the guys always thank you for everything you do. they want you to know that they would be nowhere without you helping them.

• because you were taking care of them so much, you forgot to eat all day and ended up passing out. they got so fucking scared. tom, bill and gustav were all freaking out while georg was the only one using common sense 💀 they eventually got you to wake up and they were all apologizing like crazy for taking advantage of everything you do (even though they werent) . and they treated you like a princess for the rest of the week.

• they literally get so happy whenever you cook for them. and bill and tom are really happy whenever you cook them vegetarian meals because he knows you cook other stuff for georg and gustav, so it means a lot to them whenever you go out of your way to make them food.

• they all seem to just suck at packing their bags for when they have to go on flights so they always ask you to help them with packing. you're really good at folding their clothes into their bags and making everything neat and tidy.

• whenever you're at a hotel room, you will make sure their rooms are clean. and by that I mean you will glare at them to death if they leave a plate or food on the floor because you know you'd eventually be picking it up if they didn't. after a while, they learned how to be clean because they felt really bad you were always doing stuff for them.

• you're always comforting bill whenever an interviewer says something about his appearance. or you'll say something to the interviewer.

• "so bill, we've noticed that you're the only one that dresses likethat? Isn't it kind of weird, why don't you just dress like normal?"

• and bill just kind of sits there awkwardly laughing until you're like, "oh you know it's just this crazy thing called he likes his style." in a sarcastic and mocking voice which shuts the interviewer up pretty quick.

• if you're ever out walking and you see a flower you really like you'll always pick some and bring them back to the band

• buying clothes for the band if you see something in a shop they'd really like.

• if they're super tired after a concert, and you guys haven't gone to a party, you'll tuck them all into bed and give them a kiss on the forehead before saying good night.

• you're always making sure to keep an eye on them at parties, making sure they don't drink too much or get into any fights. you usually only have a couple drinks or less because you're the designated driver, but sometimes they can loosen you up and get you to have some more fun if you guys plan on taking an uber.

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles @saumspam @5hyslv7 @killed-kiss @memog1rl @80s-tingz @billybabeskaulitz

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calmcoldevening · 2 years ago

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A little smut (////) (Slashers x reader)

Tw: well, 18+, blood play, knife play, temperature play, possibly forced to have sex

Michael Myers.

It was a difficult day. A new employee has appeared at your workplace and, as luck would have it, you had to tell everything about his duties. Jake turned out to be a nice guy, he even brought you coffee during lunch, and tried to joke in every possible way. No matter how much you complained about fatigue, the thought that now you will have a person at work with whom you can just talk in a friendly way pleased you.

Opening the front door, you quickly pulled off your shoes. Even if the heel was almost imperceptible due to a more or less low platform, your feet are really tired. Dropping your bag at the doorstep, you relaxed and walked to the laundry room, unbuttoning your shirt. I had to get clean clothes.

"Michael. I'm home," you shout, even though you know he's probably been following you since work.

Pulling off your wet shirt, you were about to unzip the skirt, when your wrists were intercepted by big hands. Looking up in surprise, you met the empty eye sockets of the mask.

"Michael? Something happened?"

The man didn't answer, just tightened his grip on your hands, pressing them against the wall. You were really scared. Heavy breathing came from under the mask.

"Mikey, what's wrong with you?"

The man lifted the edge of the mask so that his mouth and nose were visible. Leaning towards you, he bit your neck. You squealed. Pain pierced your sensitive skin. Leaving a noticeable bite, Michael began to lick it, growling animalistically.

With one palm continuing to hold your hands against the wall, he slid his fingers behind your back and unbuttoned your bra, throwing it aside. Squeezing your chest in his hand, he fell back to your neck, leaving new marks.

You let out a muffled moan. His cold hand contrasted pleasantly with his hot breath. Michael has always been rude to you, but now his actions went beyond the ordinary. You instinctively squeezed your hips, feeling the viscous warmth accumulating in the lower abdomen.

My thoughts got confused when Michael switched to your collarbones. He is well aware of your sensitive spots. The man ran his palm over your stomach, you squeaked. The skin was covered with a swarm of goosebumps.

"M-Michael, s-stop."

Lowering your head down, you noticed a bulge in Myers' jumpsuit. It surprised you a little. You had sex a couple of days ago, and with his superhuman endurance, the next time was supposed to be in a couple of weeks when he returns from his little hunt again. Did something make him angry? You didn't know. At least you won't know until he decides to talk.

Electricity seemed to radiate from his every touch. The current was flowing under your skin, making your blood boil. You began to feel a growing excitement. Tasting every inch of your skin, Michael left red marks. Bruises have already begun to form on your wrists from his brutal grip.

Running his hand lower, Michael dug his fingers into the fabric of the skirt, pulling it down. The lightning made an unpleasant crack. There was a small scratch on your thigh from a metal clasp. You whined.

Sliding his hand into your panties, Myers brought his fingers into your wet entrance. You flexed your hips, squeezing Michael's hand. Your muscles stretched painfully around his fingers. You squeezed your eyes shut, chaotic stars appeared on your eyelids. You tried to squeeze out at least a few words, but only a pathetic meow came out when the man began massaging your clitoris with his thumb.

The legs turned to jelly. You let out a strained sigh when Michael's hand stopped holding your wrists and moved to your ass, squeezing your soft flesh for support. You wrapped your arms around the man's neck, digging your nails into the back of his head, trying to remove the tired mask.

"M-Michael. Mmm, p-please."

You bury your nose in the collar of your jumpsuit, trying to catch your breath. Michael, watching your futile attempts to pull off the cold latex, stops. He seems to be thinking about something for just a moment. He loosens his grip on your buttocks, and you take it as permission. Finally freeing the beloved's face from the mask, you throw it on the floor. Looking up at Michael, you catch your eyes on such familiar and dear features. Since the last time, his pale face had been covered with light stubble; brown hair fell in careless waves over his large shoulders; pink lips were compressed into a nervous thin line. While enjoying your beloved face, you meet Michael's sky-blue iris with your eyes. So bright and warm, like a summer sea breeze shining under the persistent, warming rays of the sun. For others, these eyes looked like empty pieces of ice, "the Devil's eyes."

You smile, moving your hand from the neck to Michael's face, gently running your fingers over the prickling hairs on his chin.

Myers looks at you for a couple of seconds before pressing on your sensitive clitoris again. You return to the pool of excitement and a feeling of heaviness in the lower abdomen. Just a moment, allowing you to wait out the accumulated heat, has now only doubled your growing desire.

Rolling your throbbing flesh between his fingers, Michael watched with delight how quickly the emotions on your face changed. You bite your lower lip. Unexpectedly for you, your hips themselves begin to sit on the fingers of a man, directing him to the right points of pleasure.

When you almost reach the edge, just a couple of movements to let you fully enjoy the euphoric feeling of pleasure, Michael removes his fingers. You whine in protest and try to squeeze your hips together, looking for the cherished friction.

Michael brings wet fingers to his mouth and greedily licks. You look at him from under your eyelids covered with resentment when a man pulls you in for a kiss. He crushes your lips roughly and pulls your tongue into his mouth. You feel the salty taste of your arousal mixed with the pleasant taste of his tongue.

He lowers you down and unbuttons his pants, continuing to kiss you insistently. Michael untangles his legs from his clothes and grabs you under the hips with both hands, pressing you against the wall. Your vertebrae slide unpleasantly on a hard surface, and your skin is covered with goosebumps from the cold of the painted walls.

Finally, Myers breaks the kiss, and you whine at the feel of his hot cock at your entrance. He enters only half, but it still brings you tangible discomfort and echoes of pain, despite your walls stretched by his fingers. Michael waits a couple of seconds for you to get used to it. Having coped with the sensations, you wrap your legs around his lower back, interlocking them together. Your fingers are clenching from the rush of autumn cold: it seems that Michael did not close the window, although you were not sure about it before. The man comes out a little, and then fills you with his entire length, starting to slowly hammer into your wet entrance, accelerating the pace. The room was filled with strange, unusual sounds for your tired hearing, mixed with the measured blows of the window frame against the wall.

You moaned, at first in pain, slowly turning into a pleasant pleasure. His cock touched all the sensitive points inside you. Michael smirked to himself, your reaction only increased his desire to mark you. "Mine," he whispers roughly, squeezing the soft muscles of your buttocks. You moan in time with his thrusts. Thoughts got confused, forming a strange black-and-white lump of words stuck somewhere inside your head. The only thing that filled your creation right now was the desire to feel Michael. All, without a trace.

"Mine. Mine" murmur turns into a scream, and the man roughly bites into your neck, biting the place where a bruise from his past actions has already begun to form.

"Y-Yes" you answer when a stream of electricity spreads through your body from his bite.

Michael continues to move for a few more minutes, until finally he digs into your cervix with one rough thrust. He growls, and you feel his cock filling your core with thick seed. A moment, and you are shaken by your own orgasm. As if the heavenly butterflies that had been accumulating in the lower abdomen had flown out, leaving behind seconds of pleasure, an unearthly buzz. You shudder in Michael's arms, feeling incredibly small. You like it. Michael whines low, feeling your walls shrink around his cock, helping the man recover from his orgasm.

"Mine," he whispers, gently kissing your collarbones.

Myers carefully comes out of you, lured by his sperm flowing out of your entrance, and carries you into the bedroom. Gently placing your limp body on the bed, Michael covers you with a blanket, laying down next to you and hugging you tightly to him.

"Mine Y/N."

Vincent Sinclair.

The room was hot. The fire under the container with wax pleasantly heated the air in the room, slightly burning the lungs. You never understood how Vincent could be here, being dressed in overalls and a warm sweater. Although, probably, it was just a precaution. At least you wouldn't want to get burned because of your inexperience.

The man was lying on a couch covered with a dark sheet. His blue eye was watching you curiously. Carefully removing the wax mask from his face, you put it on the table with tools.

"I like your face."

You whisper, gently tracing a massive scar with your palm. Vincent enthusiastically closes his eye, pressing his cheek harder against your soft hand. The keratinized skin scratches your fingers slightly, but this only spurs you on more. Having wound your fingers into the guy's smoldering hair, you bend down, covering his lips with your own. A slight sweet taste touches your tongue when you slide it into the guy's yielding mouth. His nimble tongue tries to compensate for his master's inexperience by playing with you. Crushing his reddened lips like plasticine heated in your hands, you gently bite them with your teeth.

With one hand you wrap Sinclair's hair around your fist, knocking a groan out of Vincent, with the other you slide over his bare chest. His curls are hot and obedient from the moisture covering them. Removing a few strands from the guy's face, you kiss his neck. Gently, gently, you run your fingers over the protruding veins, feeling the rhythm of his pounding heart. The beating fills your ears, as if giving you mute consent, and you smile contentedly, kissing Vincent on the cheek for the last time.

Descending lower, you begin to kiss his jerkily heaving chest. Tracing Sinclair's halos with your fingers, you take them into your mouth, slightly pulling and sucking. Vincent squirms under your actions. An incoherent string of sounds escapes from his throat, more like the plaintive whine of a puppy. Wrapping your fingers around his nipple, you move your free hand to his pants, pressing on the growing erection.

"So fast, baby?"

Vincent shrinks from the pet name. He always liked the melody with which these words poured out of your mouth. He's ready to listen to it forever.

The guy directs his hips up behind your hand. You gently stroke his bulge. Your cheeks are burning like hell, either because of the heat in the room, or because of your own excitement. It becomes more and more difficult to breathe, with each breath you try to take more and more burning air into your lungs.

"Wait a little, honey."

You stop and hear Vincent gasp in protest. He gets up on his elbows, but you gently guide him back. Taking a small guy's working candle from the table, you bring it to the others, already lit. After waiting for the fetish to ignite and a little wax to melt, you hold your hand over Vincent's chest. The red light playfully sways from each of your movements, mesmerizing Sinclair's attention. A slight tilt, and the pale skin of the guy is already reddening from the slowly hardening wax. From the very depths of his throat comes a mixture of hissing and a satisfied moan.

You grin as you watch Vincent's good eye roll up in pleasure. His bitten lips are compressed into a thin, sinuous line. His whole body is trembling in pleasure.

You giggle a little as you swipe at the hardened wax on your chest. Vincent's cheeks are noticeably flushed. He is ashamed that he appears before you in this form, even though he likes it. There are too many contradictions.

"My good, pretty boy."

You gently take his palm in your hand and begin to slowly kiss each finger. Every scar, every bruise, every mole. His fingers linger on your lips, tracing the pinkish skin with his nails. You perceive it as a desire for touch and bend down again to kiss him on the lips.

Pulling away from Sinclair's mouth, you blow out the candle and put it aside. Approaching the lower part of Vincent's body, you carefully take off the guy's pants and underwear, freeing his erection. The guy looks at you in a strange ecstasy, as if waiting for your approval of his body.

"Vincent is very nice."

You whisper and wrap your palm around its length. Slowly rubbing his penis, you enjoy watching Vincent's reaction. The guy throws his head back, frantically digging his hands into the edges of the couch, and sighs softly. You giggle devilishly and rub a drop of pre-ejaculate with your thumb. Seeing Vincent like that, you can't help but grin. Feeling your slow movements, the guy breathes erratically, trembling covers his body, making him moan raggedly.

Already wet, his penis slides well in your hand when you grab a third of the length with your lips. Vincent arches at the feel of the warmth of your mouth. You giggle hollowly, and he shudders even more from the vibration that has squeezed his being. You begin to slowly stick your head on his cock, sucking cheeks.

Vincent shivers and whispers your name fragmentally. You smile as you swallow his cock. Continuing to move your head, you gently touch Sinclair's trembling chin. "Look at me," you babble, and Vincent obeys. He casts a fleeting glance at you and squeals, ending up in your mouth. Vincent closes his eyes, his vision swimming with colorful fireworks of euphoria. The guy's body is cramped with a pleasant cramp and he feels a simultaneous unforgettable pleasure and a strange current subsiding deep in the bottom of his stomach. Moving away from orgasm, Vincent looks at you from under his closed eyelids. Your smiling face now, covered with his release, makes him shrink and at the same time be content with what he saw. Mixed feelings are struggling in him: shame for what he did to you; joy and relief for your affection and care; a strange feeling of satisfaction bubbling in your chest for the fact that your lips and cheeks are covered with his sperm.

"Good boy," you say, erasing the essence of your boyfriend and licking it off your fingers "You are very tasty."

You're walking lazily towards Vincent. He blushes, turning his head in the opposite direction from you, and raises himself on his elbows. "Better than candy," you add, and grabbing Sinclair's chin, you cover the guy's lips with your own.

Thomas Hewitt.

The time is approaching evening. The Texas sun is slowly moving towards the horizon, gradually mixing pure blue with acid orange. The trees swayed steadily in the surprisingly strong wind. The dilapidated barn door with a characteristic thud hits the nearby iron pitchfork and rake. Someday they will certainly fall, leaving noticeable dents on the ground.

You were sitting on the porch watching the sun go down. You've never seen the moon from here, but still you hoped to see it at least once. It's been about six months since you started living in this Texas Hewitt family house. You are used to the daily routine and the manner of communication of all the inhabitants of the estate. Hopelessness or your own desire to stay, you didn't know. The only thing you were sure of was your love for the Texas Killer, little Thomas.

You lazily climb the wooden steps and enter the house, closing the door behind you. Dinner was over a long time ago, the dishes were washed and put away, so now you had nothing to do. You decided to visit Thomas in the basement, who was probably engaged in the last of the morning violators.

Going down the stairs, you jump over a large puddle at the foot of the steps by inertia. The basement smelled of dampness and death slowly filling your shrinking lungs. You notice Thomas hunched over a table with a sewing machine. You can't help but smile sweetly.

Approaching the man from behind, you put your hand in his wet curly hair. That's the gesture you always use to tell Hewitt that it's you and no one else. He visibly relaxes, and his previously tense shoulders go limp. You turn Thomas to face you and see his new mask. Still a fresh human mask.

"Hi, Tommy. Did you miss me?"

The man nods. You're giggling. Running your fingers over the skin, you look at the remaining blood on them, which you immediately rub between them, making a sound like a disgusted groan.

" I'll get a rag."

You leave and return to the basement with a clean white cloth. You begin to slowly drive a napkin over someone else's skin. Thomas is watching you closely. You blush slightly under the attentive gaze of metal eyes. Thomas touches your face with his bloody hand, and you smile.

"Can I take off your mask, Tommy? I need to clean your face."

He seems to hesitate for a moment. After all, you will see his real face, his "progressive ugliness". But he looks into your eyes, so dear and beloved, and does not find that lie and disgust in them, nods. You gently pull off the elastic skin and put it on the table, next to other skin patches. Again, you take a rag and already run it over Tommy's scars. You stop at his lips.

"Can I kiss you, Tommy?"

He always appreciated that you respected his personal space and always asked before touching him in such exceptional places.

Thomas nods. You grab his shoulders with your hands, guiding the man's body, and cover his lips with your own. The taste of copper soaked your profusely saliva, but you did not resist, only deepening the kiss.

Looking away from such desirable lips, you notice a strange twinkle in his curious eyes. Hewitt kisses you again, albeit clumsily, but insistently, and stands up to his full height. You are once again convinced of its large size in absolutely everything. His lips curl in an insidious grin, and a second later his hands pick you up like a feather, carefully pressing you to him. You cling to the man's bloody shirt with your palm. Thomas is carrying you out of the basement. You already knew what to expect, mentally imagining the further development of events.

Hewitt brings you into his, your shared room, closes the door with a latch, which Hoyt kindly made so that during Thomas' absence old Monty could not spy on you, and puts you on the bed.

Thomas stops not far from you and takes off his mostly blood-stained clothes, remaining in only his pants. Then he walks towards you. The springs creak with a nasty creak under the weight of Tommy's body. He carefully removes your big shirt, which you secretly took from his things, and shorts, leaving you in your underwear. Thomas looks at you, looking for the slightest drop of protest in his eyes, but, fortunately, he does not find it. A man gently runs his rough hands over your chest, stomach and thighs, pulling short moans out of you. Pleased with himself, he hooks the edge of your panties and slowly pulls them down. You clench your legs in embarrassment. Thomas settles at your hips, picking them up and laying them on his broad shoulders. You can see how his chest is heaving unevenly.

If earlier it was just hot in the room, now you felt the fire burning and enveloping you both. Your heart beat in anticipation. Thomas briefly admires you and squeezes the outside of your thighs. He looks at the bottom of your stomach and kisses the heated skin. A groan escapes from your chest. Thomas likes the sounds you make, so he leaves more long and sensual kisses on the outside of your thighs, stomach and sides.

Noticing your humidity and how you began to actively fidget in search of liberation, he smiles, after a moment touching your entrance with his face. Hewitt inserts his tongue into your sensitive walls several times, watching your reaction. Continuing his actions, he runs his tongue along your entire slit from top to bottom and back, noticing that your emotions become brighter when he touches the top of your penis. The man touches that place again, watching you enthusiastically bring your eyebrows to the bridge of your nose and bite your lip. Thomas feels a throbbing bulge under his tongue. Having found the reason for your pleasure, he begins to actively lick and suck your clitoris. You squeeze your legs around his head. Thomas, pleased with his actions, begins to work harder with his tongue, accelerating the pace. A few movements, and your body cramps pleasantly. One moment you seem to find yourself in the arms of clouds, soft, fluffy and so inviting, and the next second you hit the ground with force, still in a strange euphoric state. An orgasm will cover you instantly from head to toe, you feel your toes curl up, and your hips begin to frantically lose themselves on Thomas's tongue and face in the hope of waiting out a wonderful feeling.

Thomas straightens up and looks at the mess he's made of you with his tongue alone. Your tear-stained eyes; trembling lips; reddening cheeks, not so much from embarrassment as from the blood that covered them.

You look at Hewitt and smile. his face, shining from your release, shimmers with red-orange fire from the window of your room, his wet hair is wound behind his ears and covered with already dried blood, silver eyes are carefully studying you.

"Thanks. Tommy," you say through heavy breaths.

Thomas gently takes your hand and begins to slowly draw letters on it so that you have time to understand his message.

"Y/N. P.R.E.T.T.Y."

"W.I.T.H. B.L.O.O.D. O.N. H.E.R. F.A.C.E."

Well, ha, I'm horny before the New Year and decided to write this~ And so, happy holidays, sweethearts ;)

#slashers x reader #fanfic #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #drabble #michael myers x reader #michael myers #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #michael myers rz #slashers x you

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fallenwhumpee · 5 months ago

Text

Back

• Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Masterlist •

Warnings: inexplicit injury, strangling, military settings.

Leader pulled their legs up, trying to fit into the narrow gap of the bus seat. They hugged their bag, not really liking the fact that it restricted their movements, but also refusing to keep it out of their range. They just wanted to leave before someone changed their mind and sent them back.

The bus filled slowly as Leader sat still. Their muscles tensed quite a little when someone sat next to them, but they covered it as if they were just fixing their position. They wondered if they could ever get used to civilian life after everything. They sighed and relaxed all their muscles, letting go of the tenderness and hoping that it would help with occasional tremors.

When the bus's engine shook the whole vehicle, Leader let their head drop to their bag, their worn-down body begging for their mind to shut down. But as always, they were thinking too much, and it was impossible to sleep with strangers around. They simply kept staring around, trying to ease their suspicion.

Within the first hour on the bus, the majority of passengers fell asleep. Leader wished they were among that crowd, but they never got what they wanted. The seat in front of them leaned back not long after, cramping the small space even more. With a silent curse, they stretched their arms at least, beginning to feel sore already.

They thought that things couldn't get any worse. They were wrong.

After six hours of misery, the bus pulled over absurdly. Leader would hit their head if they weren't so squished to their place.

"Routine control, everyone out," an officer barked through the doors. Leader didn't move immediately, waiting until everyone had gone out and made their way to the officer who looked like they were in charge.

Leader took out their military ID, hoping it would get them a softer approach.

"That's not going to clear you," the officer muttered.

"I only wish to be searched in private," Leader replied. They knew their badge would clear them, but they didn't have the energy to do so. "If that's not much trouble, of course. I don't want to scare people because..." Leader opened their bag slightly, revealing the handle of their gun.

The officer eyed Leader warily before nodding. "Follow me," they said, directing Leader to the back of the police car.

Leader followed silently, gripping their bag tighter as they reached for their wallet to prepare their licence along with their badge marking them as a captain, even though the officer didn't spare a glance at it. The cool night air and the distant murmur of other passengers being searched filled the silence between them.

The officer took the paper as if they were ripping it. Leader was getting a bad feeling, but they didn't want to cause trouble. They were too tired for it anyway. With a sigh, they leaned on the car slightly, trying to get the weight off of their right side.

The officer eyed them, scoffing and muttering something about respect under their breath. They inspected the documents closely, his eyes narrowing as he read the details. "You've been discharged recently?"

"Yes," Leader answered, shortly and perhaps unnecessarily cold.

"Annual leave?"

"Medical leave. I shouldn't be on my feet for too long," Leader almost snarled. The officer - probably didn't notice or just ignored - simply pointed the bag. Leader complied, even if it was the last thing they wanted. They simply looked away, realising that they were truly nowhere. Their eyes were yet to adjust to the lights changing, and the flashers weren't helping, but there was nothing around.

Because that person standing in the middle of the road was just their weary mind playing tricks.

They turned back when the figure dissolved into the air.

The officer searched with such passion that Leader suspected that they had a personal vendetta against the military. Finally, the officer dropped their bag on the bonnet. "Everything seems to be in order. Pack your stuff inside the car."

Leader frowned. "Here will suffice. I'm not getting into the car if you're not arresting me."

"Just get in; I don't want to draw a gun against a soldier, and you seem decent enough to avoid trouble."

Why couldn't they have a peaceful day?

Leader sighed. There was no point in resisting. They quickly tucked everything back in their bag and got into the car. "At least tell me where we are going," they muttered, not bothering with the facade any longer. They were just as annoyed as the officer.

"The military base around here was adamant about receiving you."

Perfect, Leader didn't say. "Routine control my ass," they muttered instead, not able to stop it.

"I am not fit for duty," they informed the officer. Leader didn't think they would ever be, but self-pity wasn't going to get them anywhere.

"Not my problem. Tell that to your people."

Leader sighed quietly - again, they were beginning to develop it as a habit now, much to their annoyance - as they settled into the uncomfortable seat of the police car.

The journey to the military base was silent except for the occasional radio chatter from the officer's walkie-talkie. Leader busied themselves with memorising the names and following the sequence, and surprisingly, they found that they enjoyed listening to some cops trying to catch an amateur thief.

When the car stopped, the officer didn't say anything, but the door lock opened. Leader got out quickly and kept their bag in their hand. It was hard to see somewhere so bustling again. They felt like their mind was tugged with needles from every direction. They cursed their senses not for the first time, and watched as the police car left without a warning.

Leader's shoulders tensed out of their control. They quickly walked to the base, showing their ID to the security. A private escorted them inside, no words exchanged. They were led to an interrogation room, which explained so little but confirmed Leader's worries.

Leader was ushered in without a word. They sat in one of the two chair - to the further one from the door as a sign of trust and acknowledgement of authority - and read the files before them. Their breath caught on their throat when they got to the second, however.

Medic, missing in action.

The team was disbanded. How could...

They flipped the page. They wished they didn't.

"I was going to ask you about that."

Leader flinched. "Major," they greeted with a rushed salute.

And nothing after that happened in a blink. Leader saw Major walking over them with a hostile face. They saw the hand rising and the leg swiping their foot. They saw the other hand starting to move to their stomach.

If the attack is coming from a friend, don't resist.

Just like that. They didn't resist as they were slammed to the floor, their superior on their throat. Leader struggled to breathe as the punch shook their empty stomach, their hands grabbing the hand keeping them down, even though they were not doing anything to stop it.

"Why is your teammate kidnapping your medic?"

What?

"Don't look at me like that. What do you know?"

A punch to their face pulled them from the shock.

"I don't know," Leader forced out.

The hand around their throat tightened—

For once, they wanted to give in to the tempting anger. It would be so easy, so easy to crush the arms holding them, but their wishes never ruled over the will.

They were let go. Major offered them a hand, and Leader accepted it without a second thought.

"I didn't realise that their teachings went that deep. You could easily save yourself. I doubt this base can keep you in."

Leader doubted that too, especially when their restraints were getting loose every moment.

"Some things go deeper than simple teachings," Leader answered after realising that they had drifted for a moment. They pulled the chair and sat down, sighing to release some of the built tension.

"They made you from fine stuff. Now, any idea why one of your teammates went rouge and kidnapped the other?"

Leader's hand began to tremble. It was the worst possible time. They hid their hand with the other rather clumsily, drawing attention.

"Why do you run away from the only place that can fix you?"

"If I'm called back only for these questions, I wish to continue my leave," Leader bit back a harsher response. They would never walk back to the place that had broken them in the first place.

"No. Your leave ends before it starts. I want you back on your team— at least what left of it."

#anyone would be interested if i made this into a series?#anyway #whump #whump writing #leader whumpee #leader whump #inexplicit injury #strangling #military settings #spoiler alert for the next tag->#implied lab whump

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xoxo-sarah · 7 months ago

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Could you write something where you are new and in almost all of robins classes, but the more you get to know each other, the more you hang out. She starts to think maybe your friendship is more than what she thought it was, like shes feeling something she knows that you shouldnt feel for a friend

Torture

↝a/n: thank you for requesting. 🩷 This is kinda cute (but rushed)

↝pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!reader

↝warning: not proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Buckley, or any character from Stranger Things. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 4.24.24

In a bustling hallway of Hawkins High, you nervously navigate your first day, feeling lost among the sea of unfamiliar faces. Until a sweet voice calls out.

"You look lost. Need a hand?"

Looking up, you didn't know what to say at first. She was the first person to talk to you, even with all the kids around you. No one paid you the time of day, too caught up in their own highschool drama.

The girl offers a smile, pointing towards the paper with your classes. You nervously chuckle, handing the paper over. She quickly glanced at it, before dragging you to the first class, which you so happened to have together.

She was nice and funny. It was easy to get along with her. When she wasn't talking about the newest thing or telling you about the school and people in it, she was listening to you and your story of how you ended up in Hawkins. She listened. Something not many teenagers do.

It didn't take long for you two to become close. You walked together in the halls, did homework together, went over to each other's houses, called after school, kept each other updated on the drama that happened in the classes you don't have together. It was amazing to have someone to talk to after moving to a new town.

It was torture for Robin.

Don't get her wrong, she adored you. Maybe even a little too much.

She started off seeing you as a friend. You were nice and funny. But apparently that's her type. She started noticing how you put your hair behind your ear as you smiled, the creases next to your lips as you smile- how your eyes crinkle as well. She loved the color red on you. She wanted to spend every moment with you.

It was unhealthy, she thought. It wouldn't cause anything but trouble. But she wasn't one to just end something. Especially when it meant so much to not only her, but you. Was she just supposed to drop you one day? Leave you alone in the sea of sharks? She wasn't that type of person, so she'd have to endure the unspoken rejection.

"That doesn't make sense." Robin watched your eyebrows furrow, not noticing her lips lightly pull into an amused grin. You were adorable when confused. "Biology is a bitch."

"couldn't agree more." She shut her book, pulling her bag from beside your bed and started putting everything in it.

"what're you doing? I thought we had more to study?" There you were, making it hard for her to just see you as a friend. With your pretty eyes, lips, cheeks.

"I have errands to run. Sorry." She stood, moving to put her backpack on.

"are you going to walk? I drove you here."

Robin stumbled over her words. She forgot about that, even with her standing in your room. There's no way she was going to stay there , inhaling your smell that was on everything. It was torture. "It's not that far of a walk."

You stood, smiling as you walked over to your desk chair, putting your jacket on. "Don't be silly. I need fresh air anyway."

"No."

You paused with one arm in your jacket. "What?"

She sighed, looking up at your ceiling. "I just...I just need some time away from you." Ouch. She could've worded that better. Didn't stop it from being true.

"oh-yeah...yeah of course." Your jacket fell from your arm, landing back in the seat of the chair. "It is a long walk though. I can get my mom to take you home."

Robin sighed, "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Care so much."

You walked over to your bed and slumped down on it, looking at her confused. "Because you're my friend? I'm supposed to care."

She nodded slowly, biting her lip. "Why do you have to? You make it so much harder than it has to be."

"I'm confused, Robin."

"I shouldn't feel this way about you."

It was quiet for a moment, until you broke it with a whisper. "What way?"

Llike I like you." Robin managed to spit out, instantly regretting it as your face dropped.

"Robin..."

She was quick to make her way to your door, grabbing the handle. "I'm just going to go-"

"You don't have to. We can talk this out-please don't go."

"I made things awkward."

"No you didn't."

She felt a hand on her elbow, too scared to turn around. You were right there, with her secret just aired out. Were you going to laugh at her? Spread it around school? She knew you weren't the type, but you can't be too sure.

"I like you too, Robin."

"Really?" She hated how fast she asked, but didn't care when she met your eyes. You offered her a sweet smile, eyes crinkling and all.

"Yeah, I didn't know if it was romantic feelings or not. But after Tonight, I kind of got my answer. I really, really like you."

"In that case," her backpack slid to the floor, her arms going around you. "I don't have errands."

"Good," you grabbed her hand, turning and dragging her back towards your bed and the open book that laid on your covers. "I still need to help with biology."

"Why must you torture me?"

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

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alternative-ffa · 1 year ago

Text

Over twenty years ago, I read a story on a fat fetish site. The author is unknown to me, and it's been so long, I'm not sure how to search for it.

I've decided to re-write it in my style. It's certainly not the same, and my memory is going to write it differently. But, mainly, it is an homage to one of the stories that inspired me to write my own, decades ago.

Feel free to post a link to the original in the comments if it rings a bell to you!

------

I hate grocery shopping, and I had put it off for a while - until I couldn't anymore. I didn't want to drive all the way to the big grocery store considering I really just needed basics, so I drove down the street to the corner store. It was late, and I was glad to get there before closing time. It was completely empty, except for one employee manning the register. He sat on a stool behind the counter, wearing sweats that looked awkwardly tight on him. I found the tightness extremely intriguing, being able to see all the rolls of fat on his body. I almost couldn't concentrate on shopping. I grabbed a few essentials then got to the counter. He put down the book he was reading and without a word began to ring my items up. As he did this, an apple fell behind the counter. He grunted with annoyance as he lifted his fat body off the stool. Leaning to the floor to pick up the apple a loud rip could be heard. His face turned red. I heard him swear under his breath. He stood, and noticed that his sweatpants had ripped. I could see the fat of his rear and thighs bulging through the hole in his pants. His eyes closed and he swore again.

I asked, "is everything okay?"

He contunued to look annoyed and said, almost to himself, "well, I can't fucking get on the bus like this... the store is closing, and... fuck... I don't have a change of clothes."

I don't know what was going through my mind at the time, but I had a sewing kit at home, and I lived down the block. I spoke, "I can fix it for you. My car's outside, if you don't mind going to a strangers house. I'll sew it up for you."

He had a combination of suspicion and relief on his face and he said, "well, it seems that's my only choice. Do you mind waiting for me to close the shop? I also have a few grocery bags myself that I was going to bring home, could you fit them?"

I nodded and said, "no problem, take your time. I'm parked on the street."

He asked, "would you mind pulling in the back? I don't really want to go out the front door like this." And he motioned to the huge rip in his sweatpants exposing his fat ass and thighs.

I understood and said, "oh yeah, I'll just drive to the back then."

He looked grateful and said, "I'll be out shortly, thank you."

I drove my small SUV down the alley to the back of the store. I parked and lit a cigarette as I waited for him. After a few minutes, the lights inside the shop turned off, then I saw him waddling out of the back door. He had a few grocery bags hanging on his left arm, as he locked the back of the shop.

I exited my car and walked over to help. He waved me away and said, "I've got it. Where should I put these?" He motioned to his shopping bags.

I opened the trunk and said, "you can put them here."

He grunted in acknowledgement, then placed the bags in the back and closed the trunk. He waddled to the passenger door and opened it. Pausing for a minute, he looked at the seat then said, "I... I'm not sure I'm going to fit."

I replied, "well it's a short drive, it might not be comfortable, but it'll only be a minute."

He seemed to agree, then faced his left side to the open door. He grabbed the top handle as he shifted himself towards the seat. He seemed to jiggle more than I expected, and I couldn't help but stare at his exposed flesh, as his fat rear wiggled into the seat. He let out a frustrated breath once he had sat, then he grabbed the fat of the side of his belly and pulled it towards him to get the door shut. I don't think I took my eyes off his body for even a second.

Once the door was shut, I reached to the gear shift. My hand immediately landed on a soft roll of fat. I jerked back and he tried to look down to his left. Realizing his fat was covering the gearshift, he lifted up the roll and said, "I'm sorry. Try it now."

I was able to wiggle my hand under the fat and put the car into drive. Luckily it was a quick trip, as I worried that his fat might press the button and accidentally shift it into neutral or reverse as we traveled. He seemed to be aware of this, and had his body leaned towards the right, pushing his weight into the door to avoid the center console.

My place was just a few minutes away. We arrived swiftly, I put the car into park, and then exited the driver's seat. The man from the store had opened his door, but was struggling to exit. He wiggled his body towards the opening, but then fell back. He tried again, and again... slowly jiggling himself closer and closer to the edge of the seat. Finally he was able to put his feet on the ground, and he used the handle to heave his weight out of the car. I thought to myself, "thank God it's late and my neighbors aren't seeing this."

After all, here's a morbidly obese man with his ass hanging out of the rip in his pants struggling to get out of my car.

He had gotten out though. He closed the passenger door, then said, "I have some perishables in my bags, do you mind keeping them in your freezer in the meantime?"

I said, "oh, of course."

Then we both grabbed his bags and went into the house.

He had a very distinct waddle, his belly and rear end wiggling side to side as he tried to walk. I wanted to watch it, to stare at his fat body trying to move, but I didn't want to be rude, so I went ahead of him.

I guided him and his grocery bags to the kitchen. We placed them on the counter, then I went to look through them to figure out what needed to be in the refrigerator and what needed to be in the freezer. To my surprise the bags contained only ice cream. It looked like there was gallons of it. I glanced at him and he looked embarrassed. He said, "I, well... I have a sweet tooth."

I didn't want to stress him out, so I didn't say anything. I opened the freezer to find that there was no way I could fit all of his ice cream. I didn't say anything about it, just grabbed each pint and placed the ones I could fit into the freezer.

Two remained on the table and I had to say, "that's really all that is going to fit."

He replied, "that's okay. At least we got most of them in."

I don't know what came over me, but I said, "I mean, we shouldn't let these go to waste. We can have them while I sew up your pants."

He seemed excited about the ice cream, but nervous about the pants. He asked, "about that... what am I going to wear while you're fixing them?"

I thought for a second. Then said, "you could sit on the couch and I'll give you a blanket to put over your lap?"

He agreed and we walked to the living room. I grabbed a quilt from one of the couches as he untied his sweatpants and let them drop to the floor. My intention was to hand him the quilt while I looked away to give him some semblance of privacy. But, obviously, I couldn't avoid looking at him. The fat of his belly hung out from under his sweatshirt, his thighs were so huge that they forced his legs apart, and I saw the rolls of thigh fat that practically covered the indents of where he knees were.

Thank God he didn't notice me staring. He lowered himself gently onto the couch and took the quilt to cover himself. His sweatpants were still at his ankles, and he tried to lean over enough to pull them off his legs entirely, but couldn't reach.

I took the initiative. I said, "I've got it."

Then gently took each leg off, guiding them over his sneakers.

I placed them on the chair so I could go get my sewing kit from upstairs. Before I reached the staircase, he gently reminded me of the melting ice cream. I turned quickly towards the kitchen and said, "I'll be right back!"

I grabbed both pints and two spoons. I had no intention of having any of it, but figured that it might make him more comfortable if he thought I was going to have some as well. I handed him a pint and a spoon, then placed the other pint on the table next to him.

I said, "I'll be right back!"

Then ran my way up the stairs to find the sewing kit. I loved being near such a fat man, so I rushed to grab what I needed so I could get back downstairs to him.

It was only a minute or so, but he was already digging into the ice cream. He noticed me staring. His mouth was full as he said, "... well, it's melting quicker than I thought..." As if he needed to explain his gluttony.

I wanted to encourage him and say, "oh go ahead, eat as much as you can. It's so sexy."

But I nodded instead. Almost disappointed in myself for not speaking up about how gorgeous I found him to be.

He continued to dive into the ice cream. I saw some dripping from the corner of his mouth. His fat hand reached up and he wiped his mouth with the back of it. Then looked at me as if he didn't know what to do. I immediately said, "oh, let me get some napkins!"

I grabbed some from the kitchen, then gave them to him. He burped and thanked me. The burp seemed to embarass him, but it excited me.

I almost didn't want to fix his pants. I literally had my dream man in my living room, stuffing himself with ice cream, belching every few minutes like a glutton. It was heaven.

I did promise him that I would fix them though, so I sat next to him on the couch and began to thread the needle I'd be using to sew them up. They almost seemed like a blanket themselves. I'm a small woman, so they draped across my lap almost enveloping me with the fabric.

He continued shoveling spoonfuls of ice cream in his mouth, as I sewed up the ripped pants. Only a few minutes passed until he had finished the first pint. He placed the empty container on the table and motioned to the second one. I mean, I had brought out a second spoon, so perhaps he thought I wanted some of it. He asked, "do you mind?"

I nodded no, and he tried to reach for the second pint. He grunted as he tried to reach over his belly for it. So I grabbed it for him. He belched after having bent down, and said, "thank you."

We both remained on the couch: him shoveling more ice cream down his throat, and me desperately trying to pay attention to sewing up his pants instead of watching his impressive and sexy gluttony.

I heard his huge belly gurgling as he ate. I continued to sew, but kept glancing his way. As he stuffed himself I noticed his sweatshirt rising, exposing more of his stretchmark-ridden belly. I tried to be subtle, but was given away when I accidentally pushed the needle into my thumb. I shouted, then put my thumb to my mouth, cleaning the little drop of blood.

At this point, he definitely realized I had been watching him instead of the needle. He put the spoon in the container as if done eating and said, "I'm sorry."

I finished up the stitch I was on, then said, "no, that was my bad, you don't need to stop."

He smiled, grabbed the spoon, then asked, "so, you're sure you don't want any?"

I nodded, "oh, I'm good, you can go ahead and finish it."

He seemed relieved, and continued to shovel it into his mouth.

Only a few more minutes passed and I was done sewing his pants. I almost didn't want to let him know I was done. I was tempted to feign sewing as if I was still working on them, just so I could continue to watch him eat.

But, I was finished with them, so I folded them in my lap and placed them on the chair next to me.

With his mouth full of ice cream, he mumbled, "are they done?"

With disappointment that he didn't pick up on, I said, "Yup, all fixed."

He burped. Then placed the second empty pint on the table. A moment passed and he looked at the two empty pints of ice cream with a sense of disappointment in himself. He groaned quietly and said, "I can't believe I just ate all that." As if he didn't eat like that all the time.

He motioned to his pants and said, "I'll get these on and get to the bus."

I wanted him to stay. I wanted to tell him he was beautiful and that I wanted to see if he could eat all the ice cream he brought - not just the two pints that didn't fit in the freezer. But that would be weird, right? So I grabbed his pants and handed them to him.

He put his feet into each pant leg, then he tried to stand. He belched again with the movement. He said, "excuse me."

I smiled. I just couldn't help it.

He tried to stand. He wiggled himself to the end of the couch and placed his right hand on the arm of it, trying to get up. He grunted with each thrust upwards until he was on his feet. He pulled the pants up as much as he could, then realized his belly was too bloated to fit them.

They had rested on his belly originally, so tucking them under his stomach was not an option. I heard him say, "oh shit." Under his breath.

I asked, "is everything okay?"

He paused for a moment before replying. Then he stuttered, "I, uh, I don't want to trespass further, but I think I've outdone myself. They wont fit over my belly." After a pause, he said, "I can't believe this. I'm so sorry. I'm probably gross to you."

I finally said what I had been thinking this whole time, "oh no. Actually it's quite the opposite, I think you're incredibly handsome..."

For a second he looked offended, as if he thought I was lying to him. But he looked me in the eyes. His facial expression changed to one of slight surprise and he asked, "really?"

I stood up with him. I took his hands in mine. Just holding the huge fat hands in my small ones was such a pleasure. I gestured for him to sit back down. He didn't question it, and lowered his body back on the couch. It groaned under his weight.

I remained standing and said, "there's still quite a few more pints of ice cream in the freezer..."

He smiled at the suggestion

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navstuffs · 2 years ago

Text

headcanons of leon adopting a dog (gn!reader)

warning: none, pure fluff, leon with dogs

Leon never shared your interest in adopting a dog. Despite every dog you met gravitating towards him, having a dog wasn't on his wish list. Due to his job, he didn't want to leave all responsibility in your hands.

So when your sister begs you to take care of Bowie, her brown labrador, you think it won't be a problem. Leon is away on a mission, you work from home and have been feeling pretty lonely. Besides, it is an emergency, and your sister will return soon. You just have to make sure there was no evidence of a dog in the house before Leon comes home. Which could take days, weeks, or months.

So you will be fine.

When your sister asks for a few extra days, you get a little nervous, thinking you might take the dog to a hotel. Bowie seems comfortable around the house like he belongs there, so you delay it.

When Leon finally comes home, exhausted, the only thing on his mind is relaxing in your arms after a shower, he hears taps on the floor in his direction and sees Bowie looking directly at him, his tail wagging excitedly.

Leon doesn't say anything, staring down at Bowie. Wasn't that your dog's sister? What is he doing there?

Bowie slowly approaches him, sniffing his pants and looking up with cute brown eyes. Leon knows anyone would have fallen immediately, but he doesn't, calling your name.

You run downstairs, watching Bowie tangle on Leon's legs. Your boyfriend looks astonished, and you have to muffle a laugh.

"I am sorry, I am sorry! My sister needed someone to take care of Bowie, and I offered. I thought he would be gone now, but she needed a few extra days."

Leon notices you are nervous, rubbing your hands together, anxiously awaiting his answer. Leon sighs, letting his bag on the floor, Bowie sniffling it. He walks toward you, pulling you into a hug.

"It is alright, sweetheart. I am not mad. It was an emergency. All good."

You let out a deep breath, hugging him back tightly. You were so relieved he was back in your arms and not angry. You two feel Bowie trying to join in on the hug.

You do your best to keep Bowie out of Leon's way the next few days, but the dog is obviously drawn to him. If Leon gets up, Bowie follows. After returning from your usual walks with him, Bowie immediately returns to Leon. You try to lure Bowie with treats, but after he eats them, he returns to Leon again.

(some part of you is getting jealous since you have been taking care of Bowie for quite some time and he chooses Leon like this. but can you blame them?)

One day, you have to run some errands. You tell Leon you can leave Bowie in the crate so he doesn't disturb him, but Leon says it is all good.

You try to finish as fast as you can. Before you go home, you get a pizza, drinks, and special doggie treats from Bowie. You don't hear Bowie taps to welcome you when you arrive home. After dropping everything on the kitchen counter, you call Leon.

You find both of them napping on the sofa, Bowie lying on top of Leon, his head comfortably on his chest. They look peaceful, Leon's features calm as his hand holds Bowie.

You don't know who you are more jealous of if Leon or Bowie, almost melting with how freaking cute they look. Leon looks so peaceful as well. You get your phone to take a few pictures before leaving them both to sleep.

After that, Bowie gets even more attached to Leon and vice-versa. Leon starts to join you and Bowie in walks, takes him on morning runs, and even suggests taking Bowie to a dog park. Leon feeds him, gives him baths, and suggests Bowie might need a toy.

If Leon is lying down on the sofa, Bowie always jumps on top of him. Leon would stroke Bowie's head and body until they both fell asleep.

The day Leon goes grocery shopping, he finds a toy for Bowie. Not a squeaky annoying one, but one he could throw for him.

When Leon returns home, he looks for Bowie. He finds you on your laptop in the living room. When Leon asks you where Bowie is, you scratch your head telling him anxiously your sister picked him up earlier.

"I am sorry you couldn't say goodbye. She was in a rush."

Leon doesn't reply, simply nodding and taking groceries to the kitchen. He doesn't speak much for the rest of the day, looking like the past depressed Leon.

One month pass until Leon has to leave for a mission again. You are sad to see him go, not knowing when you will see him again. At least you have enough time to prepare a surprise for him.

When Leon returns, he is surprised to hear the taps against the floor.

A mixed-breed puppy comes running to check on him. You follow close behind, watching Leon hold the puppy in his arms.

"His name is Prince. He is here temporarily if we don't want to stay with him."

"He stays."

"He stays then."

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy imagines #I HAVE FALLEN #HARD #I TRIED TO NOT WRITE #I TRIED TO REMAIN STRONG #but i can't #can you fucking imagine leon with dogs though? ESPECIALLY PUPPIES #my first leon something something #i have another two other projects for him that honestly are really good

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lizhaoyu · 1 month ago

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WHEN IS PART 4 COMMING??? IM SO EXCITED EJNRMRKEKDMDM

Why so shy? Part 4

(A/N): Heya, gaymers. Another chapter is out! I'm sorry it took so long, but I hope someone has been noticing the patterns for when I publish these chapters. Thank you, everyone, for your continued support of my work. I love you guys! Enjoy thirsting, gaymers.

This was a short one, wasn't it? But at least the reader has some progress with Iso~

(Iso x GN!Reader)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 (You are here.)

Nervous.

That was no longer the feeling. What was it, this time? You don't know anymore.

You sat quietly on the edge of your bed, looking down at your lap. Your mind was full, but full of what? Thoughts of Iso? Not anymore, you knew there was no chance.

What was the point of all of this? Your mind was tired from everything, your body was exhausted from running and your heart was aching.

What was this feeling? Rejection? No, you haven't even confessed yet. Still, you feel you already got rejected, even if you haven't confessed your feelings.

You'll get over it, the shadow inside your mind says. Yeah, that's what your parents said too, right? When you fell into a deep depression when you first got rejected?

You'll get over it. You will.

Will you?

What an unforgettable man Iso was.

You lay in your bed, your shadow abilities all over the place. For other people, your shadow abilities would have already suffocated them to death. It felt like a comforting hug for you, shielding you from the world.

Not once did Iso leave your mind. The pain in your heart was still lingering, eating away at your mind. What are you even hurting for? You and Iso were never a thing.

Ouch. Even telling yourself that hurt.

You sit up, looking at yourself in the mirror on the wall facing your bed. Your hair was a mess, your eyes red and swollen from crying.

You huff, shuffling off your bed and fixing your hair. It was about time that you step out of your room and get some air. Rotting in your room all day wasn't ideal, after all. You're still a Radiant.

You got a change of clothes and slid open the metal door of your room. You step outside into the hallway with a deep sigh. It felt like forever since you felt the air conditioning of the cold hallway.

Iso and Sage were probably on a date now, you thought to yourself as you walked towards the kitchen.

Maybe you should stop thinking about them. It's just hurting yourself more. You step inside the kitchen and sit down on the dining chair. What were you even doing? Why were you mindlessly wandering around?

You let out a deep sigh that you didn't know you were holding. What can you do? This was the first time that you felt like you couldn't do anything about the situation.

Maybe you should just let them be. You can't have everything you want, right? Not even people.

Just focus on other things, maybe now is not the time for love and feelings. Maybe now is just not your turn.

You perk up, hearing chatter from a distance coming towards the kitchen. Probably Jett and Phoenix, losing a bet to Yoru. You stood up, getting something to drink from the fridge so you could leave.

Until Iso and Sage walked in.

'God fucking dammit,' you thought, almost spitting out your drink. You avert your gaze, focusing on the fridge door. Yeah, like that's interesting. Fucking dumbass-

"Hey, there you are." You hear Iso's voice calling for you. GODDAMMIT.

You hesitantly turn to him, your heart skipping a beat. STOP THAT HEART RIGHT NEOWWWWW.

"Uh, um... Hey, Iso." You mumble, nodding awkwardly in his direction as he walks up to you. WHY IS HE APPROACHING??

"I asked Omen where you were, but he didn't know. Look, I got you some boba." Iso gestures to the plastic bag in his hand.

WhAT. WHAT. WHAAAAAAAAAAAT.

"Um- what?" You tilt your head, seeing Sage from the corner of your eye as she left.

"I asked you about what kind of boba you liked, remember? I got it for you," Iso smiles, offering you the plastic bag.

"I also bought some Chinese snacks I thought you'd like. I hope you do." Iso continues.

What? This man???

"Wh... Why?" You blurt out. That was completely unintentional because you were completely confused about his behavior.

Iso rubs the back of his neck, a shy smile on his face.

"Well... I went out with Sage because I wanted to ask her for advice about you." Iso admits.

wut.

"I asked Sage to go out for boba because I thought I could buy you the one you like, along with some stuff I think you'd enjoy.'' Iso put on a shy smile, looking at you.

Oh. OH. OH MY GOD?

At this point, your cheeks were getting red and flushed. YOU GOT JEALOUS WITH NO RIGHTS FOR NOTHING?

"Ah... T- Thank you..." You mumble, gently taking the plastic bag in your hands carefully.

"Would you want to go out with me sometime?" Iso abruptly says, causing you to choke on your own spit.

"WHAT?" You blurt out.

Well, that was embarrassing.

(A/N: Hey, everyone! So, how was this chapter? Was it to your taste? Let me know in the comments! Also, how about some juicy sexy scrumptious voluptuous steamy time with Iso for the ending? Let me know in the comments. Also, I'll publish my birthday special fanfiction soon! See you next time.)

#iso x reader #valorant iso #valorant x reader #worksbynightowl #iso valorant

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accidentally-in-fictional-love · 1 month ago

Note

😶: Hector from Premature Show

🥰+🎯: dealer's choice! Whatever you want to write about him - I just wanna see this guy get some love!!

Love Is Messy (And That's a Good Thing) - Hector/Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader, an abundance of cuteness.

Wordcount: 8969

Summary: Your neighbours were all weird as hell, but it takes a crash in the hall to make you realize that that might be exactly what you need in your life.

Notes: When I started this, I told myself it'd be a super quick one and then I'd be able to blast through the next. Cue days later and me somehow writing this much. I love this man!! He's so freakin adorable oh my god!! Once again I adore it when DD plays villains, but it's his cute characters that steal my heart and I took one look at Hector and fell hard so even though burnout has been kicking my ass again I still enjoyed every second of this one. And he's a chef! I'm always writing comfort food sections and finally I get to write a chef /)w(\ I really hope you enjoy, thank you so much for asking for him 💗💗💗

Big City Living wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and you'd learned that the moment you arrived at your new apartment. It was smaller than the website promised you with its clearly doctored photos, and while the rent was at least nice and affordable despite it being New York, the neighbours were, to put it lightly, weird as hell.

Grace was fine, she seemed normal enough, but it was everyone else that made you walk a little faster as soon as you reached your shared floor, Denzel's advances constantly unwanted as his roommate hid in the safety of the living room beyond the door. You'd heard him talk with the two of them before, their voices carrying through the walls and lifting up to your window when they were outside, so you knew he could be sociable, but when it came to you he outright avoided you the moment you happened near. He would only really talk to them, in fact, they seemed almost inseparable by now, and that was great for them, but you weren't about to join in on the weird festivities of dressing her in odd fashion for interviews and the other one apparently pretending to be her boyfriend to impress her boss.

You didn't think you even knew his name, since he was the only one who had yet to approach you when you joined their floor, and the moment you'd tried to be somewhat social and introduce yourself just to finish the trio he'd jerked away from your hand and rushed out of the elevator as soon as it dinged and freed him. You didn't try again after that, clearly this guy wasn't interested in making more friends, so you wouldn't force things and insert yourself into his life.

Unlike his friend, who was constantly and without fail trying to prove to you how great of a catch he was the second you appeared in his view.

It'd been a few months now and your deceptively small apartment was now filled to the brim with everything you'd thought you'd have space for. It was a bit cramped, but it was all yours, and it was right next to the subway so you didn't have to worry about driving or taxis, so you'd cherish your small slice of heaven for as long as you could. You'd just finished cleaning, dust gathered fast when everything was so cluttered, and were in the middle of carrying the bags to the trash chute when the door next to yours opened and The Other One walked out. You bumped into him when you noticed too late, his arms shooting up to his chest as he attempted to avoid the bag in your hand, his eyes open wide in terror like you were about to splash him with toxic sludge and turn him into a laughing villain.

‘Sorry, didn't see you there,’ you quickly apologized as he pressed himself to the wall, and he looked to the bags before pulling a bottle of sanitizer from his pocket; he washed his hands, then his arm where you'd hit him, and you felt slightly offended until you realized that oh, he wasn't doing this because of cooties or a bit or something, he was serious. ‘It's just some used paper towels and a bit of cleaning wipes, nothing too bad,’ you offered to console him but still he flinched like that was somehow even worse.

‘Still used, and filthy, but thank you,’ he said, and it was the first time you'd heard his voice in person you realized as he finished up and put the small bottle back into his pocket.

‘Oh, well, at least it's all safe in the bag,’ you tried next, and he looked ready to argue before he swallowed it down and gave you a smile.

‘Yeah, safe in the bag,’ he agreed stiffly yet politely, and you smiled back before continuing to the chute. ‘I'm Hector, by the way, I know we haven't been properly introduced since you arrived.’

‘It seems we haven't,’ you said as you spun on your heel to face him again, your own name finally stated as his smile turned more genuine.

‘It's nice to meet you, and- if I may say, the next time you're preparing any sort of meat, you should really wear gloves and use a properly sanitized cutting board, I noticed that you used the barbecue out in the yard the other day and just… placed the meat right on the tray while you waited.’

‘You were… watching me grill?’ you asked with a bit of a chuckle, you hadn't expected that one.

‘No-! Well, the window was open, and it was making Denzel hungry so he asked me to see if we knew who was out there, y'know, so we could grab a bite, and when I saw how you were preparing everything-’

‘Are you some kinda chef?’ you asked as a joke, but to your surprise he nodded.

‘I am, well, I'm in between cooking jobs, at the moment, but I did get my degree in it, so regardless I call myself a chef, yes,’ he explained, and you looked him over and decided that you couldn't picture him in a Hell’s Kitchen type scenario at all between the shyness and the nearly discovered mysophobia.

‘Huh, well then, the next time I'm in the mood for burgers I'll knock on your door, if you'd like? So you can show me the correct way to do it?’ you suggested in a friendly manner now that you saw that he wasn't nearly as bad as you'd feared considering who he roomed with, and he mulled it over for just a moment before giving a small sway on one heel and pushing his longish hair behind his ear, he seemed actually excited about it, and it was honestly pretty cute.

‘I'd really like that, actually, been a while since I got to cook for anyone that wasn't him, I might have to get out the book of recipes I wrote up while I was studying.’

‘I don't think you need to go that far just for burgers,’ you laughed, and when he looked disappointed you were quick to continue, ‘but maybe we could do some kinda potluck another time? I don't mean to brag, but I can make a damn good bowl of store-bought potato salad.’

It took him a moment to get it, but when he did he laughed so hard that it caught the attention of Denzel, who rushed out to see what he was missing before his eyes landed on you. ‘So you're the reason for all the commotion out here, you two getting friendly without me?’ he smirked as he straightened his hair, his cheese-dusted fingers leaving streaks of orange that he quickly brushed out thanks to Hector flinching and pointing at it.

‘Just throwing out some trash,’ you told him before continuing down the hall, his voice following after you as he jogged to catch up.

‘That's cool, hey, we were actually gunna take Grace out tonight to celebrate her latest gig, you wanna tag along, see where the night takes you?’ He wiggled his eyebrows at you while the rest of his face remained dead serious, and you looked between them and his eyes before shaking your head.

‘I can't, I have work in the morning, but thank you,’ you replied before slipping between him and the wall and heading back for your door.

‘That's cool too, y'know we're free all week, very flexible schedule, we can hit you up for Round 2 when you're off work,’ he said as he followed again, Hector silently apologizing for his forwardness in place of his friend's lack of social awareness, clearly this really did happen often.

‘I'll be swamped all week, but I'll let you know.’ You shut your door behind you as he kept talking through the old wood, Hector whispering for him to let it go before it fell silent, and you sighed to yourself with a smile as you leaned back; guess you were making friends here whether you liked it or not.

The weather took a bit of a turn, everything way too hot to allow you to stand out in the sun in front of a hot grill for hours. You stuck to your unairconditioned home instead as soon as you got off work, an emergency fan brought and barely cooling you as it spun back and forth while you sprawled out on your couch in discomfort. This was hell, this might actually be Hell itself you decided as your brief breeze grazed over you and gave you a moment of reprieve.

You were in the middle of considering filling your bath with ice and hopping in when a knock came to your door, and you tried to get up when you just sank back down and made a noise for them to enter, you hadn't locked it in your hurry to set up your new fan. The door creaked open after some muffled conversation on the other side, and you didn't have to look to know who it was as Denzel let himself right in and headed for your fan. ‘I feel like there's a presence in here, a heavy one,’ he said lowly and mysteriously as he stepped into the heat between the oscillations, and you couldn't even fake a laugh as he blocked your breeze.

‘It's you, it's always you,’ Grace told him as she also appeared, and this time you did sit up and face the door at the sound of her voice. You'd only talked once or twice in the elevator, and you knew she was nice enough to have the patience to put up with Denzel, but you hadn't expected a party when Hector came in last.

‘Hi, again, uh… we noticed that you might be having the same problem as us, so we thought-’

‘You might appreciate the party coming to you, complete with cold drinks and frozen foods,’ Denzel finished for him, a very cold and condensating soda tossed into your lap and making you yelp before he took the couch seat next to you. ‘Listen, it's come to my attention that we might’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here, so I brought you a little peace offering to know that it's all good, you're still free to hang with us whenever you want, you don't have to be intimidated by me.’

You still had no energy to do anything other than press the cold bottle to your neck and cheeks and slowly blink in the heat.

‘What my roommate is trying to say, is that he's sorry about last time,’ Hector translated for you as he approached the front of your couch but didn't sit, and you took no offense to it when you saw just how intense his mysophobia could be even over something like a slightly sweaty couch. ‘And that, since you're so busy, we might share our Cooldown Party with you, since our units are also temporarily out. Well, more like a gathering, really, Grace and I aren't much for parties, maybe just a get together, actually.’

‘My mom sent me some cookies, and Hector made this really yummy frozen pie,’ Grace said as she brought the treats over, and it did look damn good under what appeared to be a mummy's worth of plastic wrap over the case to keep the pie extra safe.

‘It's an easy recipe, it's mostly just pudding,’ he revealed, but he still looked away with a smile when you hungrily looked over the chilled dessert.

‘I'll take anything if it cools me down, lemme grab some plates, I also bought some Popsicles earlier, and I can just slightly heat up the lasagna I started on yesterday, if you want?’ you offered as you stood, your outfit sticking to your entire back and making Hector cringe again at the sight of it.

‘Yay to the Popsicles, nay to the lasagna, you got anything like potato salad or macaroni salad? Any of the fun salads other than actual salad?’ Hector asked as he spread himself out next and turned on your TV to find a movie, guess everyone was staying.

‘I have a bit of a wrap I bought for lunch and never finished?’ you called over as you searched your fridge, and Grace gave him a bit of a slap before joining you.

‘Don't feed him, he just ate,’ she whispered to you before finding your plates, and you got out the lasagna and started heating it properly no matter how much you wish you had more cold things. ‘I can bring over something else, so we don't eat all your leftovers, if you'd like?’

‘It's fine, half of this would've probably gone to waste by the end of the week,’ you figured as the microwave dinged, and you didn't notice the presence until you felt cold air flow over your back; instantly your head fell back with a moan, it was divine, and Denzel let out a very interested, ‘Whoaaaaaa,’ from the couch at the sound of it as you turned to see the cause. Hector took a step back, the tissue still protecting his fingers as he quickly apologized, apparently your shirt sticking to you and keeping you hot had bothered him just that much, and you waved it off before fixing your shorts yourself.

‘Thank you, I was just gunna leave it,’ you laughed, your face red at the embarrassing sound you'd made on pure instinct, but he still apologized again before tossing out the tissue and washing his hands for good measure.

‘Denzel, come help me grab something from my kitchen,’ Grace said suddenly as she stood next to you, said man just letting out a noise of disinterest as he watched his movie. ‘There aren't enough places to sit, help me bring over a chair,’ she repeated, and when he didn't get up she pinched him by the ear and dragged him to his feet. You watched the two of them go before shrugging and moving over to your fan, the now freed back of your shirt lifted so the air could travel under and cool you enough to enjoy the lasagna you were now very hungry for.

‘Sorry again, I know it wasn't very sanitary to do it in the kitchen but you looked like you were uncomfortable,’ he repeated again, his glasses fogging in the heat as he tried not to watch you when you spun to lift the front of your shirt forward next.

‘I very much was,’ you confirmed, and when you were nice and cool you offered him the chance to do the same since he was all buttoned up and looking ready to go to work or a meeting or something. ‘How about you? Don't you own any t-shirts or anything?’

‘Oh, no, not my style,’ he said with a soft laugh, and while the button down and khaki pants did suit him well, you could see the sheen on his forehead from you hogging all the fan.

‘Well, at least take the fan, if you have nothing more breathable,’ you suggested, and he thought about it before shaking his head and nearly pressing himself to your wall before jumping away like it'd burned him, although in this heat it might've.

‘No thank you, you don't need my sweat and body odour and dead skin flying through the air, getting on your things, I'll be fine,’ he lied, and you hummed to yourself before circling behind him and seeing that he was in the same predicament as you'd been; his shirt was tucked in and the entire top was stuck to him, and you stared at the damp material before grabbing it and yanking it free. ‘Wha- what're you-?’ he yelped as he spun around but you just spun with him, pulling his shirt free and letting the fan do the rest as he got caught in the breeze, and you felt satisfied as he also let out a loud sigh of relief.

‘I know you don't like touching, but you looked like you were pretty uncomfortable too,’ you admitted as you washed your hands to make him feel better, but he'd forgotten all about his turmoil as he leaned over the cover and let it bring down his internal temperature that was currently set to Boiling. You just smiled and gave him some space so he'd feel less self-conscious about his sweat and body odour and, God forbid, dead skin floating through the air with a small chuckle, and when the others returned with the chairs you ended up making sure he stole the other half of the couch this time instead of Denzel.

The weather evened out again just as the AC was fixed, and the next time you had a party/gathering/get together it was outside in the actual breeze with the grill fired up at last. You knew by now that both Hector and Denzel were between jobs at the moment, so it took a careful script of asking him to help you clean your bathroom, the worst room in the home, in order to sneak him away without the temptation of Denzel following until everything was ready. You held your fingers to your lips to keep him quiet as you got him to help you bring everything outside, of course you were the one to handle the burgers and other raw meats, and he preferred the plates and forks and other needed utensils very much as you made your way to the barbecue.

You'd made sure to book it just in case, you weren't sure how this shared space went outside of first come first serve pretty much, since that was how you'd nabbed it the first time, and he filled you in on everything as a now longtime resident. ‘Basically there's a clipboard out in the lobby, y'know the one by the front desk? It has several pages for stuff like lost things and requests to the super, but on page 4 it also has whoever books the barbecue so everyone can check and write down their name if something comes up,’ he told you as you hauled the picnic table a little closer, his hands covered in two pairs of sanitary gloves since the table lived outside and was covered in way too much to touch otherwise.

‘I'd seen that but I just thought it was all for lost and found,’ you said as you cracked your back, he was strong but he also had a tendency to keep stopping when his hand shifted too close to something undesirable, and as such his gripping area was pretty limited and made the task take longer than it should've.

‘Nope, we used to have a bulletin board for it so all the pages were spaced out, but then Mr. Katz expanded the front desk and that area became unavailable to residents, so now we just use the clipboard, you'll get used to it.’ He was talking a lot more and a lot easier as well, you noted with a smile as he also cracked his back, his hands far away from himself as he stretched out his hands and leaned back as far as his spine would allow, which wasn't very far.

‘Good to know, I'll remember that for next time; so, how're you gunna teach me, Chef?’ you teased as you motioned to the things you'd prepared, and he gave you a smirk before ditching the gloves, tossing them into the nearby trash from a safe distance, and took out his phone after he was once again sanitized; in just a moment Grace was softly calling to you, and she prepared to toss a small something to you before letting it fall past the border of the fire escape. Hector went to catch it before he realized it'd be touching his hands, and you managed it in his stead last second, his eyes bright and his smile wide at your success.

It was a small square it looked like, once again bagged to keep it safe, and when you opened it he quickly stopped you before pulling out another pair of gloves from his pocket. He put them on and handled the rest, the square actually a neatly folded and brand new plastic table covering, and he spread it over the dirtied wood and declared it ‘fffffffine enough’ before motioning towards the food.

‘Okay, we should really be doing this in the kitchen, but that's too risky, so just follow my lead,’ he began as everything was spread out, and he glanced down at his sleeves before pursing his lips and rolling them up so he could work, new gloves coming out again so he could handle the food, how many did he have in there? ‘These are store bought, but they've thawed out enough to add the seasoning, and that'll make all the difference once they hit the flame, did you pick up everything I suggested the other day?’

‘Yup, already measured them into that bag,’ you confirmed as you grabbed it, and he sucked in a breath through his teeth before pulling out his sanitizer and waved you over. You were patient with him even though the smell was strong, and when it'd dried over your skin he brought out more gloves from his other pocket, these ones set aside just for you it seemed.

‘Okay, much better; open the bag, keep an eye out for flies, and one by one take the patties and rub a bit of the seasoning into each side, like this.’ He showed you how to do it, his eyes focused as he grabbed the meat with the safety of the gloves, grabbed a couple pinches of the seasoning, and rubbed it into the slightly thawed top and bottom of the burger until it was mixed in without tearing it apart. You followed his lead, grabbing your own but pressing too hard and ending up piercing it with your fingers and thumb, and you frowned at it and decided that Denzel could have that one as he chuckled. ‘No, here, it's in a delicate stage since you can't really roll it back into a ball like this, that's the trouble with store bought, do it like this-’

He came up behind you, his chest a safe distance from your back, but you still felt how warm he was as he took your hand and adjusted your grip as you tried again, the perfect amount of seasoning sprinkled on before he guided your hand to rub it in much gentler than your first attempt. ‘I-I feel like that one movie, with the pottery,’ you joked, and he thought about it a moment before laughing softly in your ear.

‘I won't rub raw meat all over your bare arms, don't worry about that,’ he joked back, that patty done and the next started. ‘You think you've got it?’

‘Yeah, I got it now, thanks,’ you said as you continued without him, and he went back to preparing his own, the two of you working in silence until the wax papered tray was full of the improved burgers. He let you handle the grill, he'd overthink it too much if he tried to use it, he always let Denzel cook when they were out there since he could pretend everything was fine if he didn't actively see the state of the grill despite it being well taken care of. He didn't sit as he avoided watching you, his eyes on everything else as he stripped off the used gloves, sanitized again, and leaned against the end of the table. ‘Y’know, I'm curious, how did you get through cooking school when your fear is this bad?’ you asked him as you flipped the burgers to start to seal in the added flavour, the cheese slices coming out to wait until the lid was opened again.

‘Culinary school, actually, and it wasn't as bad back then, if you'd believe it,’ he replied as he started to place down the plates, a protective napkin placed over each one in case of curious flies. ‘It's always been there, but learning about all the way bacteria can make you sick, even kill you, how you could really hurt someone if you aren't careful, not to mention the state of some kitchens- well, they didn't like me walking around with my big ideas to wear gloves and be more strict with the hairnets, don't even mention the desire to just please clean out the utensil holders, and all that mixed in with my refusal to handle certain things…’

‘It got you fired,’ you finished for him, and he pointed at you, dead on. ‘Wow, I didn't realize the cooking business was that cutthroat.’

‘It's not if you know how to ignore it all, but… I can't, no matter how hard I try, I just can't, so it's been hard to do what I love the past few years.’ He fiddled with the edge of one of the napkins, rolling the soft paper between his fingers until it started to tear, and you wished you had a way to help him find a boss who understood him like you did. But life out there wasn't as easy as him taking your hand and showing you how to season a burger without wrecking it, and the odds of finding a restaurant owner who'd put up with his intense fears disguised as quirks were even worse than finding a needle in a haystack.

You opened the lid and the smell of criminally delicious burgers hit you right in the face, your mouth instantly watering as you reached for the first cheese slice only to be stopped by a new pair of gloves since you’d been touching the grill and spatula; you just gave him a thankful and understanding smile before pulling them on, and you laid the cheese overtop to be melted as Denzel finally caught on and yelled from the apartment window for you two to save him some for the love of God, he was not about to miss out on Hector's famous burgers after so long.

The two of you grew even closer after that day, the grill party very successful as several residents you didn't even know came out of the woodwork at the smells of the burgers. You were glad you'd made so many as everyone ate them up along with the hot dogs and sausages that eventually also got tossed onto the grill as the day went on, and you ended up adding a few new names to your mental registry of the neighbours you'd had yet to meet.

At one point you'd actually needed to run back upstairs to grab some more plates and forks, and you didn't realize Hector had been sent up - aka ran up before Denzel could - to get the other chilled pie he'd made at your request, the two of you bumping into each other in the hallway again when you'd left your apartments at the same time. The pie was saved as you slid your hands underneath his, the stack of plates providing extra support, and when he'd felt your thumbs brush against his bare hands without him pulling away it'd felt way more intimate than if you'd gone full romcom and accidentally kissed somehow or something.

He'd still sanitized again when you reached the yard, but he'd done so with a blush, you couldn't help but notice.

It was going on the next weekend when you'd woken up, got some breakfast, and found a note slid under your door as you'd made your way to the couch. You set down the bowl on the coffee table and picked it up, the writing neat but also a little stiff as the folded paper presented your name to you and confirmed that this was meant for your eyes only.

You brought it over to the couch and opened it up as you ate, and you nearly choked when you saw that it was actually an invitation to dinner by Hector, he liked spending time with you so much that he wanted some time with just the two of you. Your face grew hot as you thought about your growing friendship, and you knew that you were catching feelings for him despite Denzel's best efforts, so you quickly finished off your breakfast, made yourself look Hallway Presentable, and headed over to his door.

You knocked until Denzel opened up, all hunched over and messy from his sleep, and you bit your lip to contain your smile a little when he started to assume that you were finally here for him. ‘Can you tell Hector yes for me?’ you asked him nervously, and he frowned in confusion before looking down to the note in your hand.

‘Ohhhh yeah, I gotcha, I'll tell him,’ he promised with a wink, and you thanked him before heading back to your apartment to get ready for your short shift at work.

Your mind was on him all day, and whether you should dress up nice in case it ended up being a fancy dinner, or if you should just dress like yourself, and by the time you got home you'd decided - multiple times, while mentally going back and forth repeatedly - on a business casual look, so a nice button down and jeans, to start. You raced home once you got off the subway, just barely giving Grace a hello as she also headed inside, and you didn't stop until you reached your apartment and started going over what you could wear.

You ended up with a lineup of clothes, and one by one you picked them off until you were left with what had to be the perfect outfit, something not too fancy, just in case, but nothing too casual either, so he knew you were serious about this. You had a quick shower to get rid of the stress from work and got dressed, the note on your counter as you brushed your teeth and read it again to go over all the details.

There were none, it just said he wanted to invite you to dinner tonight, and when there was nothing left to do you let out the breath you'd been holding all day and approached his door once more.

Denzel opened it again, although this time he was ready for you, Hector nowhere in sight behind him as you tried to peer past into the living room. ‘Oh, he'll be out in a sec, Hector!’ he shouted back over his shoulder, and as he did the door to your right opened and revealed Grace. ‘My, what a coincidence, hey Grace would you wanna grab Phat Dong and check out that place over on 49th?’ he asked her almost like he'd practiced this, and she seemed just as practiced as she for once didn't argue against it and led the way.

‘Have fun tonight,’ she told you as they reached by the elevator, and you had just enough time to feel like you'd been scammed when Hector appeared with a jump.

‘Oh, I thought I heard your voice,’ he said with a smile, but it faltered slightly when he noticed that he was now alone. ‘Where did…?’

Ah, so you had been scammed.

‘He just walked out with Grace,’ you answered honestly, now feeling a little overdressed considering he hadn't been the one to write the letter after all, and honestly you should've seen it coming, the paper had been on the floor and you had thought that the writing had looked a little stiff. ‘But, since they just left, why don't we hang out, just the two of us?’

A fake date to give you the courage to ask for a real one because they'd known you never would, clever girl- guy, the both of them.

‘I'd like that, have you eaten anything yet?’ he asked as he invited you in, and you shook your head as you took in his apartment for the first time; the layout was the same as yours, but you could definitely see where his OCD came in, everything sparkling clean despite the haphazard placement of it all, he'd likely let Denzel decorate with his own things and then kept everything tidy.

‘Nope, just got off work,’ you replied, only two steps in before he stopped you and had you take your shoes off. You set them into the placemat so you wouldn't track any dirt over his mopped floors, and you saw that his socks were actually kind of cute as he led you to the kitchen, the pattern matching the tie he was wearing almost exactly.

‘Great, there's been a recipe I've been thinking of revisiting but I didn't want to make it and have Denzel take half, or Grace, or anyone other than you, actually,’ he admitted as he pulled out an old notebook from between the cookbooks on his shelf. ‘I've kinda just been wanting to share it with you, since you've been encouraging me to get back into this outside of job hunting, as a thank you.’

‘I didn't know you were looking again, how's it been going?’ you asked excitedly as you approached, careful to give him space as usual but he surprised you a little by leaning in to show you everything he'd written down.

‘Not too good, but there's a few places nearby that I'm getting a second interview with, so I've been brushing up on my recipes lately as well as learning the menus, crossing my fingers that if I'm good enough they'll listen to what I have to say this time without throwing me out.’ His smile was small as he flipped through the pages, his arm just barely touching yours, but he might not have noticed thanks to his long sleeves.

‘Well, if you can turn a normal frozen burger into something worth selling at a restaurant just with a bit of seasoning, then I know you can nail these interviews,’ you told him confidently, your hand hovering over him before you pulled away, settling for giving him a thumbs up instead. He watched your hand, noticed how close you were, how respectful you were to his boundaries when the others weren't, and he shut his eyes tight before leaning over and closing the space. It was just your arms touching over fabric, but still it made your breath catch to see it, to feel him heat up against you because this was intimate to him, trusting, and you had to wonder if he might've really wanted to ask you after all but didn't know how to say it.

‘This, uh, this one looks delicious,’ you said with a tap to the book to get him to open his eyes again, and when he saw what page he'd landed on he actually let out a small noise of surprise.

‘That's the one I was going to make for you,’ he revealed, and you looked it over again before he was hiding it from you, your quick glance would be your only teaser. ‘You know, I'd really like to cook with you again one of these days, but for tonight, let me test my recipe out on you, I know you'll be honest with me, or, you'll be honest but not as much as Denzel, and more so than Grace, if that makes sense?’

‘It does, don't worry,’ you smiled as he moved away, your side now cold without him there next to you. ‘So shall I get comfy, try not to spoil all your cooking secrets so you can surprise me?’

‘I-I don't think I could do this if you're watching me,’ he mumbled with a blush, his hand adjusting his glasses as he looked away from you, ‘but we have a big collection of movies you can look through, it shouldn’t take up the whole thing but I haven't made this in a while, so…’

‘A movie sounds great, and recommendations?’ You walked over to the cabinet where they were all completely disorganized but you'd guessed that was only because Hector cared more about germs than order, while Denzel didn't care at all. He didn't have any, he was already too focused on preparing the food to answer, and you shot him a fond smile before grabbing your favourite from the batch and popping it into the DVD player.

You did indeed get comfy as he worked behind you out of sight, the smells of everything making your stomach growl until you couldn't concentrate on the TV any longer; you quietly turned until you were facing the kitchen, and again he wore that same calm and completely concentrated expression as he chopped and sliced and seasoned. He was so into it he didn't even notice when he faced your way to grab some paper towels, and it took you a while to realize that he wasn't wearing gloves this time, although he still generously washed his hands after everything outside of handling the raw meat.

You found watching him to be way more interesting than the movie, and not once did he feel your eyes on him as he carefully assembled the dish into a glass pan and placed it into the oven until he washed his hands a final time and found you staring at him over the back of the couch.

‘How long?’ he mumbled as he pushed his hair behind his ear and walked over, that calmness replaced with a blush again.

‘Dunno, lost track of time,’ you didn't lie, and he looked nervous about it before you motioned for him to come over. ‘You really love this, don't you?’ you said softly as he sat next to you, his posture tight again compared to how relaxed he'd been as he cooked.

‘Yeah, ever since I was little I've always enjoyed standing at the counter with my dad, learning old recipes that were handed down through our families, and then, when I got older and could start making stuff on my own, sharing it with them and my friends, I knew that this is what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.’ He stared at the TV as he spoke but he wasn't watching, clearly picturing what he was talking about as he said it, and you wished you could see it too as you watched him.

‘I'm sorry that things turned out the way they did, I wish there was an opening at my job for you,’ you said honestly, and he smiled and shrugged as he relaxed a little more.

‘For years I've just lived with this, adjusted my life around the fear until it lost me a job and nearly lost me my home, but Denzel is a good guy, bit eccentric, and sometimes he knows just how to push my buttons, it's because of him that I still have a roof over my head.’ He relaxed even more, his posture loose again as he spread his legs just a bit and let his back bend, no more sitting up straight with his knees pressed hard together. ‘I know he doesn't look it, especially when we live here, but you know he's got money, right? That's why he's still unemployed like me, because he doesn't have to work so he doesn't want to.’

No, you didn't know it, you couldn't believe it, in all honesty. ‘Why's he live here then? It's not exactly the Ritz,’ you gaped in surprise, and Hector gave a small smirk as he nodded.

‘No idea, but we were neighbours when I got evicted, I mean, Mr. Katz is great, but he couldn't keep me here for free when the money started to run out,’ he told you even though it must've been a hard and embarrassing part of his life, but neither showed on his face as he looked at you.

‘I might’ve misjudged him,’ you figured, and he gave you a nod, ‘so he took you in, and you were neighbours, that means I've got your old place, don't I?’ Another nod, and it wasn't bitter, that wasn't the kind of person he was. ‘You'll have to tell me how you managed the space because I swear I've used up every inch and still need more,’ you griped, and he laughed and moved a little closer to you, just an inch.

‘I guess I'll have to come over again sometime and help,’ he suggested, and something in the air changed as he realized that he'd actually said it out loud; it was different here, this was his shared space where Denzel could come home at any moment - like hell he would after the scam but still - but your place, that was all yours, and no one would bother you if you went over, shut the door, and locked it. He swallowed, face going red until his glasses started to fog, and you chuckled at the sight before facing him more in return so that when he could see again all he would see was you.

‘I guess you should,’ you agreed, and you gave the oven a glance. ‘How long does dinner have left?’ He looked at his watch before telling you, and you took out your phone and set an alarm before standing up. ‘C’mon,’ you encouraged when he didn't move, completely frozen in place, ‘we've still got 45 minutes to kill, so come give me some pointers, okay? I swear it's clean, cross my heart.’

He looked back at the stove before standing as well, and you left your shoes on the mat as you opened the door and waited for him to join you. He slipped on his loafers and followed after, the hallway so quiet without the others around, and you were glad you'd cleaned when you opened the door and invited him in. He didn't take his shoes off at first, giving your floors a good once over before deciding that he trusted you, although he did shiver a little as his socks met the hardwood; you wanted to praise him but didn't know how to do it without sounding condescending, so you kept it to yourself and raised your arms to motion around the room.

‘So… this is it, as you’ve already seen, plus a few new things here and there,’ you said nervously, like he was going to find one spec of dust and deem you too dirty to hang out with even though that was definitely just nerves and that he would never do anything like that, and he hummed to himself as he walked around.

‘I had my TV over here,’ he told you as he compared, his couch pressed into the wall and surrounded by the end tables that now decorated Denzel's apartment next door. ‘The kitchen is still the same, is the… yeah, I did this.’ He waved you over to point at the burn going up the wall, the one that had made you terribly worried about an electrical fire when you'd first seen it. ‘I was making something and the oil splashed when I tried to drop the chicken in from afar, never do that, and the whole wall nearly caught if my screaming hadn't brought Denzel over, that was actually how we'd met.’

‘He helped put it out and didn't make it worse, I hope,’ you joked, and he thought about it a moment to your concern before deciding yes, he had helped in the end. ‘What a way to start a friendship, must've been hard to top that.’ You paused briefly to put away a dish towel when you noticed he was quiet behind you, clearly he didn't like it because it was already dirty from the dishes you'd done yesterday, but when you turned back to him you saw that he was staring at you, not it.

‘I think I might've topped it,’ he said just above a whisper, your throat going dry under his gaze, once again calm and concentrated as he reached for your hand. There was a moment as his fingers brushed over yours before he pulled back again, like his brain was telling him to keep being afraid of everything he couldn't help in life, of raw meat and eggs and bacteria, of human contact because all of it was bad and could hurt him and he should be afraid.

You didn't rush him as he shut his eyes and tried again, and this time he remained as he touched the back of your hand, your palm, explored your fingers until he was linking his own through yours. He let out a shaky breath, his palm sweating against yours but you didn't mind, he was working so hard to show you how he felt, and you wished he was okay with hugs as you held his hand right back.

‘I never knew how exciting it was to just hold someone's hand,’ you admitted with a smile, and when he cracked his eye open at your voice you saw the way he looked over you like he was seeing you for the first time.

‘So… you don't mind this? With me?’ he asked like he believed you would, and you just shook your head and rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand. ‘Good, I mean- they told me I should take a chance, but it's been a while since all this got worse, not everyone wants to deal with someone like me.’

‘You mean someone who's funny, and an excellent cook, and is probably the cutest person in this whole building?’ you challenged, another nervous laugh leaving him as he tried to take a step back, his hand bringing you with him.

‘I dunno, you're also pretty cute,’ he mumbled so genuinely that it could only make you laugh.

‘That's why I said “probably”,’ you teased him, the two of you just laughing until he became aware of how hot his hand was against yours. He tried to free you but you didn't let him, instead pulling him towards your couch so you could sit down together, you still had a half hour before the food was ready, after all. ‘They tried to set us up, you know, that's why I showed up today,’ you told him with a bit of adjusting, Hector very still as you moved closer to him when he still tried to keep to his end of the couch. ‘I was so excited at the thought of you asking me out that I didn't even consider the fact that it wasn't you who wrote the letter they left for me.’

‘Oh no, I wrote that,’ he confirmed after seeing it on the table in front of him, your eyes wide and his shutting again when you turned to face him. ‘They encouraged me to write it, basically told me what to say when I couldn't decide, I just didn't know they'd gone and delivered it when I wasn't looking.’ You were stunned, absolutely flabbergasted, his lip worried between his teeth a moment when he felt you pull his hand onto your lap. ‘I'd actually written it after that day in the yard, when we had the barbeque party, that was when I knew I…’

‘Yeah, me too.’

He opened his eyes again and just stared at you, this mutual confession more than you'd ever hoped for when you'd knocked on his door almost two hours ago already. ‘Does… that mean I can ask you out, for real?’ he dared to wonder, and you nodded and leaned in for a kiss before he stopped you. ‘Sorry, it's been so long, you couldn't imagine the things that fester inside the human mouth,’ he winced, which of course made you wince to think about in return, and he bit his lip again before biting the bullet and kissing you on the cheek instead. ‘But I think I might be okay with stuff like that, for now, if that's fine with you?’

You blushed deep before kissing his cheek back, and he almost looked ready to wipe it off and run before he fought the screaming in his head, he was going to cherish every touch he could get with you until he wasn't afraid anymore, and you were so proud of him it only made you hold his hand all the more. ‘It's perfectly fine with me, you just tell me what you want and I'll always be ready to help you through it, okay?’ you assured him comfortingly, his smile growing even wider and making his glasses raise over his cheekbones. ‘Is there anything else you might wanna do before we go back?’

You didn't even say it in a flirting manner and still he stuttered, his free hand coming up to readjust his glasses when they then slid down his nose. ‘Oh, well, I will admit I have been missing one thing about relationships,’ he confessed scandalously, and you leaned in ever patiently as he lowered his voice. ‘How do you feel about… snuggling?’

He was definitely the cutest person in the entire building, bar none.

‘I like it very much,’ you grinned up at him, and he looked relieved as he pulled your hand to his chest and grinned right back. There was a moment between the smiles and the relief before you realized you were now draped over his side, the closest he'd let you get since you'd met other than when he helped you with the burgers, and you didn't want to make it end by calling attention to it; instead you rested your head on his shoulder, a small snuggle just for him, and for once he didn't pull away until your alarm went off and startled the both of you. ‘Guess it's done,’ you figured sleepily, he was more comfortable than he let on, ‘we should probably turn off the oven before it catches fire.’

He looked ready to contest until he stared at the wall like he could already see the flames, and you laughed as he dragged you back to his apartment to save the meal he'd so lovingly made for you.

It was his own version of a lasagna, much more flavourful and full of things other than just meat and noodles like the instant one you'd bought when he'd first come over, and you decided to bring it back to your place again as you sat together on your couch and ate. There was no more hand holding while he ate, too risky, but he was now fine with sharing the middle of the couch with you instead of cramming himself into his side, to your delight.

You watched the movie you'd paid no attention to earlier, and it seemed to be a shared favourite as you talked and laughed over it, the last of your Popsicles coming out for dessert when you were done. You eventually heard Denzel and Grace come back, their voices hushed in the hallway as he peeked into his apartment and found it empty, and it made you chuckle when they asked themselves where Hector had gone. You got up before he could knock on your door next, hushing him and revealing the man in question fast asleep on your couch.

‘I'm gunna steal him for the night, if that's okay with him when he wakes up,’ you whispered, Denzel's eyebrow raising so high it made you want to shove him just a little.

‘Fine with me, been a while since I had any alone time,’ he said in a sultry voice even though you'd clearly made your choice, and he looked to his friend before his voice then fell oddly serious. ‘You gunna take care of him for us?’

‘I'm sure as hell gunna try,’ you promised honestly, and he gave you an approving nod before wishing you a good night and leaving, no more quips, no more jokes. You shut and locked the door again, the credits playing on screen as Hector snored away over the arm of the couch, and you nearly shook him awake before you remembered you probably weren't there yet after just one date. ‘Hey, sleepyhead, you wanna head to bed?’

He came back to his senses and looked around, the room so familiar but still so new until he saw you. ‘Sorry, think I missed the ending,’ he yawned, and he really was the cutest person in the whole building. ‘Should I get going so you can sleep?’

‘I have the day off tomorrow, so I'm all free to snuggle some more, if you want?’ You offered it carefully, with him something like that could be moving too fast, but he just blushed and sat up, his hands straightening his outfit and hair in order to look more presentable to you.

‘If you don't mind me running home to shower and grab my pajamas first, I think that can be arranged,’ he agreed like it was no big deal, and when he all but ran home and banged on the door until Denzel let him back in, you just chuckled fondly and got ready for your own shower, the promise of getting to be close to him again making you realize how lucky you were to have found this place.

Maybe Big City Living wasn't so bad after all, you thought as you looked around your small and way too crowded apartment, his leftover lasagna in your fridge and his hand in yours again the moment you reopened the door for him.

#Ray's Readers #Ray's Requests #david dastmalchian #hector premature #hector premature x reader #I gotta stop attempting to tag these rare characters lol #I FORGOT TO TITLE THIS ONE ALL WEEKEND OTL

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v1nsmoke · 1 year ago

Text

𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻𝒀 𝑲𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑹 // 𝑺𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑹!𝒁𝑶𝑹𝑶 𝑿 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

spooktober week 3 - modern au with slasher zoro!

tw: murder, d3ath, g0re, alcohol, can this be taken as yandere?, fire

summary: attending a house party won't be a bad choice, at least that's what you think until something changes the course of the night, and everything turns into chaos.

a/n: phew, my longest oneshot so far! i mean it took almost a week so i was hoping. i just want to say that im trash at writing endings so idk how that turned out, i feel like i fucked it up. also COP SHANKS CAMEO??!?!??! and firefighter Ace too!! LISTEN TO HOUSE OF BALLOONS WHILE READING, IT FITS THE VIBE!!!

first half until the garage scene supervised by lena!

tags: @stargirldelight cause cop shanks appearance at the end ♡ (sorry that i keep tagging u in shanks stuff)

wc: 5.6k

The cafeteria was bustling with people, just the average, daily experience. You munch on the horrid food they serve, the food you always tried to trade with the people who were smart enough to bring their own. You were lucky to have Sanji in your friend group, he always brought a bit of his own, delicious cooking, which Luffy would often steal.

"Here dear, I brought you some of your favourite!" Sanji exclaims, handing you a small portion of your favourite food with a smile on his face.

"Thanks, you're the best!" You take it and immediately dive in, hoping that you won't feel the taste of the cafeteria's food you finished a minute ago. While talking with Sanji, you could feel someone staring, but every time you looked around to check, there was nobody looking at you.

"Okay guys, last night I was thinking." Nami speaks up, now the whole group's attention focused on her as she stands up on the table. "Robin, you already know, I'm talking about what we discussed over the phone." She smiles.

"Just spit it out." Zoro says, losing his patience with the orange haired girl.

"Since it's our last year here together, I was thinking about hosting a big halloween party! And everyone is invited! And I mean EVERYONE. If you know somebody outside this highschool, feel free to invite them! The party is going to be held on October 31st! That's a week for you to prepare your costumes and get ready for the best night of your lives!" She excitedly says.

The whole group and the people present at the cafeteria cheer for her, everyone in on the idea. You haven't attended a good halloween party in years, and when it comes to parties, you know it's in good hands with Nami.

~○~

You walk trough the girl's locker room's door, the fencing helmet held in your hand since it won't fit in your bag.

"Thanks for waiting." You high five Zoro, standing at the entrance since he changed clothes faster. Maybe because he didn't spend a good twenty minutes with gossiping, or more like overhearing converastions going on about some random girl's personal life.

"So, what did they say?" You ask.

"What?" He looks at you bluntly.

"What do you mean 'what'? Oh. So you didn't ask them about the party." You sigh as realisation hits you.

"I didn't ask them about the party." He repeats, almost sounding proud of himself.

"Nami is counting on us!"

"The whole cafeteria heard her, isn't that enough people? Is her house even that big?"

"Even if it isn't, she'll find a way to get all these people together. She's smart, you gotta give her that."

Just then, a guy trying to leave the fencing hall bumps into you by accident. He rapidly looks up, making you notice his strange shaped nose.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to!" He apologises.

"No, don't worry, it's nothing. I was the one standing in the doorway, it's not your fault." You apologise back, picking up his bag that fell from his hands after the impact. He's about to leave, but you call out for him.

"Hey, uh, I was wondering if you could come to my friend's halloween party. October 31st. You in?" You shout, hoping he still hears you. The guy turns around, and shouts back a "sure" in response. "I'll send you the address, I think I have you on Instagram. Bye!"

The guy puts his thumb up and leaves. You turn back, and you're met with Zoro's eyes piercing trough you.

"What?" You ask, seeing he was clearly bothered by something.

"Nothing. Let's go." He sighs and heads towards his car, landing in the driver's seat.

"If you say so." You shrug and follow, getting in next to Zoro. You open your phone, and type in your address into Google Maps so that you won't have to guide him and his poor navigation skills. Sometimes you wonder how he got his driving license.

He stops at your house. You gather your fencing equipment, and step out of the car.

"Are you coming to Nami's party?" You hold the door open so you can speak with him.

"You sure sound very excited about it. I thought you hated parties, the people, drinks and all." He replies.

"I still do. But Nami and the others will be there, at least I won't feel alone. I want to see how it turns out. You still didn't answer me."

"I guess it's worth a try. She will probably buy the expensive drinks, someone's gotta try those out."

"You're saying that because you are an alcoholic, Zoro."

"I know. Bye." He grabs your door's handle and closes it, starts the engine and drives off.

"Yeah... Bye." You say to yourself.

You plop down on your bed, letting your body sink into the soft mattress. Maybe Zoro was right. Maybe you shouldn't go. Parties? You never attended them, the overwhelming amount of people and the disgusting smell of alcohol that would stay on your shirt keeping you away from these events.

But for God's sake, it will be hosted by Nami this time. She was your best friend ever since you started highschool, and she was also your number one supporter from the moment you two met. And now she was going to organise a huge halloween party with everyone invited, there's just no way you wouldn't attend it! Besides, all your other friends would be there, too! Robin or Sanji would definitely let you stick to their sides, you'd be safe there. You've got a whole week to get ready, both your costume and mentally.

~○~

Nami throws another ingredient in the cart, adding to the weight of it, making it even harder for you to push it forward.

"Did you even look at the price of it? Or are you just throwing in everything you see?" You ask your friend.

"We need all these, and I have the money for it. I just can't wait for tonight! This will be the party of the year, and I bet everyone will be talking about it tomorrow!" She exclaims, throwing another bag of potato chips your way. You catch it and place it on top of the heap of other food already in the cart.

"What will be your costume, Y/N?" Nami looks at you as the two of you join the line at the cash register.

"I couldn't come up with anything, I'll probaly go dressed as myself. Not very original, I know." You say as place the groceries on the conveyor belt one by one.

"Hm, I was looking forward to see you in some costume for once, but whatever." She sounds dissapointed, but at least she respects your decision.

After paying the crazy amount of money Nami decided to spend on snacks, you get into her car, heading straight towards her house. A few days ago you agreed to help her set up the party, but didn't expect it to be such a big thing. Sure, Nami was the host, so it's natural that she would plan something huge.

Her keys dingle in the front door's keyhole, and she opens it. Both your hands full with the bags, only being freed after you manage to drop them on her kitchen counter with a sigh.

"What should I help with?" You inquire, leaning on the white marble kitchen island.

"I was only thinking of helping with the groceries and now that's done, but if you're already here, could you put these into bowls? You know where to find them." She motions at the snacks in the grocery bags.

Of course you knew, Nami invited you over more than a million times, you could swear you knew the whereabout of every small item in her house. You open a cupboard, grabbing a bunch of bowls from it.

"I've got some things to tend to, Usopp should be here in about twenty minutes." She waves before going upstairs to take care of whatever she needed to.

"Ayyy! I didn't expect you here! Only here to set things up, or staying for the party too?" Usopp hugs you upon entering.

"Weird to see me here, huh? I'll stay for the party too, though I will probably stay by somebody's side, likely Robin or Sanji, maybe you, we'll see." You hug him back.

"Only an hour before the others arrive, I'm so excited! It's gonna be fun, I promise, and if ya ever feel lonely, find me!" Usopp pulls away and the two of you share your own handshake that took days to perfect.

~○~

The loud music with the same, repetative beat keeps playing from the speakers installed by Usopp earlier today, maybe an hour ago. You didn't expect everybody from the cafeteria to actually pull up, but it seems like you weren't the only one who thought it would be nice to attend a party just this one time. Everybody was there, event those smart students whose daily routine was entirely made up of studying and the quiet kids nobody knew anything about, and they all seemed to have fun. Except you.

You stood alone in the corner of the living room, awkwardly holding the red plastic cup filled with alcohol that you won't drink anyway. Maybe coming here was a bad idea after all.

"Uh, hey." You hear voice behind you, though it was faint since the music was being blasted. You turn around to see the guy from your fencing classes, the same guy that you invited here because Zoro wouldn't do it.

"Hi." You say, your fingers fiddling with the cup as you force a smile onto your face.

"I see you're alone. Zoro didn't come with you? I was sure he would." He starts.

"Uhhh I haven't seen him yet, but the party only started not so long ago, he said some days ago that he'll show up. He's bad with directions and navigation, maybe he just got lost." You explain.

"Oh, alright, if you say so. My name's Kaku. Nice to meet you, I've been watching you during fencing classes."

Zoro's face expressed disgust. Was it worth coming here? He stands still near the doorway of the living room, silently observing the scene currently unfolding on the other side of the room. When he entered, you were the first thing he saw amidst the crowd, but his happiness quickly dissapeared after a guy approaches you. Zoro could recognise him as Kaku from fencing classes, the guy who would always be paired with Zoro (and inevitably lose to him).

He couldn't hear what your conversation was about, the other guests and the music overpowering his hearing. Oh how he hated Kaku. He annoyed Zoro so much, his voice, gestures, everything. And now this man he hated was talking to you. It was supposed to be him. Maybe if he didn't take twenty-two wrong turns, get stuck in a traffic jam AND park his car in front of the wrong house, it could be him. But that wasn't the case right now, because instead of enjoying your company, he stood still on the other side of the room.

It bothered him how you had to force a smile, he could see it across the crowded room, but Kaku standing next to you couldn't. He just kept talking and talking, not noticing the way you were looking in all directions but at Kaku, who didn't seem to care.

"Heyyy, you wanna join me on the dance floor?" An unknown girl comes up to Zoro, pointing at the middle of the living room.

"No." He coldly turned her down, not even bothering to look at this girl. He couldn't take his eyes off you and Kaku, and knew that if the guy tries to do anything, whether it be a romantic or hurtful action towards you, he's going to be there between the two of you in the blink of an eye.

Just then, he notices as Kaku takes your hand into his, the movement making you seemingly uncomfortable. Seeing this, Zoro takes rapid steps trough the living room, squishing himself trough the crowd, his katanas colliding into each other. As he gets closer, he starts to hear you voice.

"No, uh, thanks, I-" you stutter, politely turning him down, trying to pull yourself back to the corner you were standing in.

"Come on, you're supposed to have fun, right? Zoro's not coming anyway, that asshole doesn't care." Kaku chuckles. Zoro deeply inhales. It took his all not to launch at the guy and gut him right then and there.

"No, sorry. I'm not going anywhere with you." You insist, pulling back your hand in hopes of freeing it from his grasp. Your heart was beating faster, and it was definitely not because Kaku's charms. You've already considered all possible outcomes of this. Lucky for you there was a small cupboard with a vase on it next to you just in case of an emergency.

"No way, I'm a nice guy, you know me! I-"

"She said no."

"Zoro!" You smile upon hearing your friend's deep voice, one that you could recognise anywhere. Kaku seems to lose some of his self confidence after Zoro's voice hits his ears, but he still didn't let go of your hand.

"Hey, buddy!" He gives the green haired man a fake smile. This was off to a bad start. Zoro could swear that if this guy called him 'buddy' again, he'll lose it.

"Let her go." He says back, not even greeting Kaku. Instead, he stared into his soul, and if looks could kill, Kaku would be gone by now.

"Alright, fine!" Kaku gets defensive, letting go of you and raising both his hands up like he was being arrested. It looked like he was waiting for a 'thank you', but you sure weren't going to thank him for the bare minimum. Feeling the tension, the guy tries to lighten the mood before Zoro accidentally stares too strongly at him.

"Zoro, buddy, can I invite you for a drink?" He asks.

Zoro nods, knowing that Kaku had no idea of what he just got himself into.

"I'll be back soon." Zoro smiles your way, which is not a rare phenomenon with you, then leaves wirh Kaku following closely behind him, leaving you alone yet again.

~○~

Zoro pours another drink into the cup, Kaku letting out a sigh of satisfaction as he downs it again. Both of them sat at the kitchen counter, drinking up everything they could find. They both consumed the same amount of alcohol, but one of them was definitely drunker than the other. Zoro was an expert at alcohol drinks, and could still stay sober even after an insane amount of drinks. Unlike Kaku. He was deeply drunk by now, just as Zoro expected it.

"Zoro, hi! You're actually here, cool! Though I would be happier if you left your katanas at home." Nami appears, greeting her friend.

"I always take them with me everywhere."

"Yeah, that's exactly why you are banned from so many places."

"Zoro, pour me and yourself another!" Kaku chuckles, his shaky hands holding the cup towards the green haired. Zoro agrees, but when he tries to grab another drink, he notices that it's all gone.

"Strange. I thought you were prepared, Nami." He says.

"I WAS! But you two idiots drank it all!" She shouts at the two, mad that they didn't leave any for the rest of the guests.

"So no more drinks?" Zoro looks over to Nami, earning a sigh from her.

"There is. Go to the garage, I have a few crates of it stored there. Bring those up, but leave some for the others."

"Why do I have to get them? You're the host, do it yourself." Kaku whines, clearly drunk.

"MAYBE BECAUSE I WASN'T THE ONE WHO DRANK IT ALL. NOW GO." she pushes Kaku out of the room, Zoro walking behind them.

He would be lying if he said this wasn't what he was planning all along. The crates in the garage? He knew about it. And he also knew that nobody will be there, all the guests in the living room or one of the guest rooms. He felt a bit bad for leaving you alone, but there were things that had to be done. And it was for your own good.

"Man, I'm telling ya, I would be long gone with that girl if you didn't interfere. Damn bro, I even had some aphrodisiac with me, I-"

Zoro didn't need to hear the rest. His steps slowed down, mind going in multiple directions. Did he just mean you when saying 'that girl'? Did he really want to give you that shit? Kaku may be drunk, but drunk words are sober thoughts, and Zoro knew that. He hated Kaku, but now he snapped. This guy was going too far, and Zoro didn't like the way this crazy dude talked and thought about you.

He opens the garage's door, holding it open for Kaku to enter, and he does so, skipping his way down the few stairs. Unbeknownst to him, he just walked into a trap, one that Zoro has been planning ever since Kaku started making flirty comments towards you during fencing classes, not noticing how you were internally cringing and creeped out by him, but neither of you ever said a word about this. And tonight really did it for Zoro. He didn't invite Kaku for a drink because he wanted to get closer to him. He did it to get him into this drunken state, and made him drink up every drink until there was none left. He didn't need Nami to ask them to get more, he would've done it anyways.

Kaku looks trough the shelves, searching for even more drinks.

"Zoro, you helping me or nah?" He inquires, still looking at the metal shelf.

"Sure. I think I already found one of the crates." He says, carrying a crate filled with whiskey over to Kaku. He tries to hand it to him, but drops it in the process. The glasses break, the alcohol spilling on the floor and Kaku, who is now soaked from head to toe, given that he was crouching when this happened.

"Sorry." There was no remorse in Zoro's tone, but the guy believed him anyways, the drinks doing their thing.

"It's okay buddy, mistakes happen." He smiles, going back to searching the shelf again in case he missed something.

He doesn't notice as Zoro quietly locks the garage's door, trapping the two alone together. He starts searching in his pocket, until he finally gets his hands on the keys to Nami's car, the keys that he stole from the hanger in the hallway. Zoro opens the car's door, sitting down on the leather seat of it, then inserts the key and the engine comes to life with a buzzing sound.

"Ey man, be careful or you'll hit me!" Kaku shouts, still crouching just a few meters away from the car.

"Don't worry. Stay there, and you'll be safe. I just want to test something." He lies, and steps on the gas pedal. The tires of the car squealed on the concrete floor of the garage, which had just enough space for the green haired to roll the car back a bit.

"Buddy, Zoro, no, no, let me just go back, you can try the car when I'm not here." Kaku stands up, ready to leave in this instant.

"Stay put. I'm here to crush your skull, not the car." And with that, Zoro pushes the car's gear, feet forcefully pressing the gas pedal.

A loud thud echoes in the garage as Zoro crashes into the wall, the breaking of bones and coughs ringing with it. Kaku tries to take deep breaths, but now that he was squished between the wall and the car, it seemed impossible. His head was spinning, eyesight hazy, the only thing he tried to focus his eyes on was the man in the driver's seat, staring at him with an emotionless gaze.

Zoro backs up a bit with the car, Kaku falling to the floor with broken ribs. He coughs, clawing at the floor in hopes of being able to crawl away. Zoro opens the car's door, slowly stepping out. Kaku was almost at the few steps leading to the door, when he looks back over his shoulders at the sound of footsteps, the green haired man approaching him.

"No, please, I-" he crawls a bit faster, but Zoro grabs him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him back with force, then dragging him along the cold concrete floor, back towards the car.

Zoro lifts him up, then places him in the drivers seat while he stands at the car's door.

"You're gonna be in big trouble when I tell the others about this." He manages to whisper between coughs, his own blood filling his mouth.

"They won't." And with that, Zoro steps on the gas pedal, quickly pulling his leg back after doing so. A deafening scream pierces trough the air, the car running into the wall yet again, the metal shelf between the two objects breaking right trough the windshield, the end of it sliding trough Kaku's head.

The car sparks at the impact, the alcohol spilled there by Zoro previously catching fire. Was the crate drop a few minutes ago intentional? Yes. Yes, it was. Now the car was in flames, the already dead Kaku stiff in the drivers seat.

Zoro calmly grabs a crate filled with beer from the other side of the room, and makes his way towards the door like nothing happened. He doesn't look back, letting the car burn with Kaku inside it. The whole garage was made up of concrete walls, which cannot catch or spread fire, meaning that Nami's house won't burn down if he leaves the fire to be.

He leaves the room, striding back to the kitchen. Just as he was about to leave the hallway and enter the living room, Nami comes rushing to him.

"Zoro! What took you so long?! We heard loud noises, I was getting worried that something happened to you!" She scolds him.

"I didn't know you could do that." He coldly replies, earning an eyeroll from the ginger girl, who noticed something.

"Wait, where's the guy who went with you?" She asks.

"Oh, Kaku? He told me to feel free to come back, said he wanted to try something. He should be here soon." He lies straight to Nami's face.

Nami shrugs, about to go back to the middle of the party, when she suddenly stops in her tracks. Her nose picks up an unkonwn scent, or more like smell.

"Zoro, can you smell it too?" She asks worriedly, turning back to the swordsman. "Smoke." Realisation dawns on her, eyes going wide. She rushes out the room, a curious Usopp and you behind her. "You're coming too!" She shouts back, clearly meaning Zoro. So, he follows them.

The grey smoke filled the hallway as they got closer to the garage, Nami already suspecting what happened. Usopp bursts trough the garage's door, letting out a few coughs along with Nami and you. The room was filled with smoke, the orange haired girl's car still in flames, it was only a matter of time before it gets worse and the car explodes.

"SOMEBODY HELP! WE NEED WATER! CALL THE POLICE AND FIREFIGHTERS!" Usopp screams. Nami and you nod, running back to warn the others and call for help.

Now Zoro was left alone with Usopp, who was panicking, taking fast and deep breaths to calm himself down.

"You, Zoro? D-don't you feel l-like doing something about this?" He shakily asks, eyes on the green haired man.

"I already did." He answers. Usopp slightly scrunches his eyebrows, not quite understanding what he meant.

"What are y-you trying to say? You're creeping me out a bit, you know." He takes a tiny step back, Zoro looking at him with a colder, more menacing stare than usual.

Usopp swallows hard, feeling uneasy after Zoro doesn't give him an answer.

"Zoro, you... you didn't, right?" He nervously chuckles, but Zoro still doesn't move or say anything. Usopp realises that he's in grave danger here, and it's time for him to run. But just as he turns around, ready to sprint back to the living room, he hears as Zoro unsheats one of his katanas. Usopp grabs a vase, throwing it right towards Zoro, who simply cuts trough it.

"This can't be real, this can't be real, this can't be real!" Usopp murmurs to himself, shutting his eyes for a few seconds. But when he opens them again, Zoro's gone. Or at least that's what he thought, standing up, letting out a deep sigh at the fact that he won't die.

"Sorry. No witnesses." He hears the deep voice from behind, the blade making contact with his upper body. Usopp looks down, and is met with the sight of Zoro's katana going trough right his heart. He sees as Zoro pulls out the blade from his flesh, a hole left in its place. He coughs, blood spilling from his mouth before landing on the flooring beneath him with a thud.

Zoro's hands were now stained with his friend's blood, the crimson liquid staining Nami's floor and his katana's shiny blade. He had to get rid of the body quickly, before you, Nami and all the others return with the cops. So, he grabs Usopp's dead body by the legs, dragging him to the burning car in the garage a few steps away.

You panic, dialing 911 as fast as possible while Nami ushered everybody out the house before something else catches on fire too, or the flames reach the wrong spot of the car and it explodes. But Usopp was down there, trying to put it out with the buckets from the storage room. Or at least that's what you thought was happening.

"911, what's your emergency?" A female voice chimes in from the other side of the line, one that you could recognise.

"Uta, hi! Nami's car got caught on fire in her garage, and she said somebody was there too, it can explode any minute, Usopp is trying to put it out but I'm worried for him, I-" you dump all the information on her, but she calmly cuts you off.

"Alright. I'll ask my dad to go, he'll bring some of his colleagues too, so him and some firefighters will be there in a few minutes."

"Thank you. Bye." You shake, worried for Usopp and Zoro at the garage. Uta puts down the phone, and you do the same as you rush back to the garage to get the two out of the house.

You cough as you get closer, Usopp and Zoro nowhere to be seen.

"ZORO! USOPP! COME ON, WE NEED TO GET OUT!" You shout, hoping they will hear you. You slow in your track when you notice the splatters of blood on the floor and wall a few meters away from the entrance of the garage. Did something happen to them? You think for a second. Maybe the fire wasn't caused by accident. Maybe somebody set it on fire intentionally, killing the person Nami said was there. And now he maybe got one of your friends too.

"USOPP! ZOR-" you call out their names, when suddenly the green haired man appears in the garage's doorway.

"Oh god, you're alright! Look, we need to get out of here, the police, firefighters and ambulance are already on their way, there's nothing we can do about the fire now. And I might sound stupid right now, but there might be even a killer, and-"

"There is. Now come with me and get out of here." He cuts you off and grabs your hand, heading to where you just came from.

"But Usopp-" you try to stop yourself, but Zoro keeps dragging you behind him.

"He'll be fine." He replies, not even looking at you.

"You know what he's like, we can't just leave him here!" You argue back, slightly raising your voice.

"There's no time for him, we need to leave, now."

"No!" You tear your hand away from his. "He will panic that he's alone, or worse, he can die too! Don't you think about that?!"

"I do, but I don't care. I don't care if that fool dies, but if I don't get you out of here and you die because of me, I'll never forgive myself." He lifts you, throwing you over his shoulder, firm hands keeping you in place. You squirm, trying to get out of his touch, but it seems impossible.

He bursts trough the door, then places you down at the front yard. The other guests were either gone the moment they heard there was a fire, or watched in horror as the smoke flowed out the house. Just as you step on the sidewalk in front of the house, the sound of cop cars hit your ears, that same deafening sound as all the other times. Firefighters and ambulance arrive at the scene too, jumping out of the vehicles in an instant. You rush towards one firefighter, the black haired, freckled guy you were friends with.

"Ace! Ace, one of my friends is still inside, please, try to find him and get him out." You beg, tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

"That's my job, sweetheart. Don't worry!" He reassuringly winks, running toward's Nami's house.

You knew Ace since childhood, you both went to the same school and your moms were good friends, so you got to hang out with him a lot. He loved going on adventures, and was a good company. He always dreamt of being a firefighter, and it was like a dream come true for him when he got the job. You knew that he will be great at this job, and you trusted him. When he told you not to worry, you believed him, there was something about your friend saying this that calmed you down a bit.

"Hey, you alright?" Another familiar voice sounds from behind you, his hands placed on your shoulders. You turn around and see the red haired man with scars over one of his eyes, worry displaying in his eyes. You couldn't hold your tears anymore, this was it. You wrap your arms around him, face buried into his chest, sobs escaping your lips.

"It's okay, it's okay. You'll be fine." He hugs back, bringing a sense of comfort to you. Shanks was the usual friendly cop, the one who would always be there when an old lady called the police because her cat got stuck on a tree, the man who would knock into your home just because he was bored and wanted company. You knew him, his little secrets, and he knew yours.

~○~

The rest of the night you sat in Shanks' cop car, a blanket over you after a doctor checked up on you and it was all okay. You were devastated. Ace and the doctors did everything they could to save Usopp, who was found dead in the garage, stabbed. The other victim was Kaku, who died under mysterious circumstances. There was definitely a killer, but nobody knew who it was. Though you did have your suspect. And you could only wish you were wrong.

The last time you and Nami saw Kaku was when he was with Zoro, but Nami said that the two went to fetch drinks and Kaku stayed behind, so maybe that wasn't Zoro's fault. But it was also him who stayed with Usopp, he was last seen with him. And the fact that Zoro carries his katanas everywhere, including this party, and Usopp getting killed by a blade just fit together. Why would he kill Usopp? You had no idea.

Everyone got questioned one by one, and sadly all clues lead to Zoro according to Benn, who was Shanks' colleague. You didn't know him like you knew Shanks, but you would meet him often. He was smart, and knew what he was doing. And that's why you were so worried. Because he is likely right this time too, and that means Zoro, your best friend is a murderer.

You see as Shanks approaches his car where you were sitting, a serious look on his face.

"Is something wrong?" You quietly ask, worried that something happened, something wrong.

"I'm sorry. I really am." He says as he sits down in the back next to you, looking in a direction. You follow where his eyes are focused, and see what you didn't want to. Zoro in handcuffs, escorted to a police car. A tear escapes you, it hurts to think that your friend is a killer. You didn't know his motives, why he did what he did, but he probably had a good reason.

~○~

Life went smoothly. The image of that night was still vivid in your mind, but you forgot about it so often that it was almost like it's gone. You would still sometimes dream about it, but other than that, you were fine. Shanks was worried that you will be targeted after this, so he offered to take care of you and live with him if you want. You have been living alone ever since you were 15, and you knew Shanks well, so, you moved in with him. He has been acting as your father figure ever since, and you totally don't mind it.

You would sometimes still wonder: why did you do it, Zoro?

one piece and all related characters belong to eiichiro oda, i do not own any of those characters.

#Spotify #one piece #oneshot #v1nsmoke #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #slasher zoro x reader #spooktober #october #halloween #slasher #zoro one piece #zoro #eiichiro oda #opla #one piece live action #mackenyu #zoro x reader

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rancidpancakebatter · 2 years ago

Text

A Childhood Innocence-[S.H.]

Pairing: childhood!best friend!Steve Harrington x female!reader

Prompt: I saw this post and all I could think of was my babygirl Steve Harrington.

Summary: Steve Harrington was your best friend once upon a time but years apart makes you see him in a new light. Takes place during season 2.

Word Count: 4.4k

Content Warnings: Mentions of blood, Cursing, Toxic Masculinity/"Man Up" Allusions (Mr Harrington is the worst and I want to roast him on a spit)

A/N: This is my first time writing for Steve Harrington and it was certainly fun. In the future, fics with him will be much more fluffy <3

also, only your father's last name is Stokes

(Y/N/N)=Your Nickname

Hawkins, Indiana is where you grew up, but not where you called home. It's where you were born, it's where your parents met, it's where you lived until you were ten.

In the Summer of '77, your family relocated to New York. Your father was the second half of Harrington&Stokes and the company opened a branch in Albany. The Harringtons were much more attached to Hawkins society so that meant "The Stokes" had to leave.

Your parents told you at Sunday dinner. Mr Harrington made a toast to your father and to the company's growth.

"Albany won't know what hit it!"

You remember feeling like the world had tilted on its axis. You gripped your chair tightly worried you might fall off. Your mother noticed your expression and tried to gently explain the change that was happening. Her words fell on deaf ears as you could only focus on the boy across the table.

Stevie Harrington. Your best friend and partner in crime. Born in the same year and attached at the hip. Your moms were best friends and they wanted that for their children as well. So you guys did everything together.

Sometimes he could get on your nerves but you had built a sort of alliance through the years. You both were often shown off as trophies by your parents at their company soirees. Perfect little children, both gifted. One with brains and the other with brawn. It was nice to have someone your age in that stuffy office. Someone who gets it.

You remember your last sleepover. Your room was barren: all furniture and trinkets gone, save a small lamp plugged into an outlet in the wall. Stevie sat next to you in his sleeping bag with a glum look on his face. You're sure yours didn't look much different.

"Are you gonna forget about me?" His eyes were glassy with tears he refused to let fall.

"No, of course not. Besides my parents say we're gonna visit for holidays and stuff, so I'm not gone forever." You weren't sure who you were trying to comfort.

Stevie just sniffled, nodding his head.

The next morning you left and the Harringtons waved your family off in the Uhaul. Both your father and Mr Harrington teased all the "girls" for getting emotional.

Your mothers hugged and cried and promised to call while you and Stevie sat in the back of the open truck, swinging your feet. He held your hand as you cried. He had to keep his composure in front of his father lest he face a lecture.

After your goodbyes, the Harrington family stood on the side of the road looking similar to the picture above their mantle. Only Stevie didn't even bother plastering on a fake smile. Your father climbed in first while your mother held the door for you. You looked back at Stevie and tried to give him your most convincing smile before you scaled your way up to the seat.

"Wait!" You turned to see Stevie tear away from his father's grasp.

He ran straight to you, tackling you in a hug. You felt his tears fall on your shoulder and squeezed him tighter. Eventually, his father called out to him and he let go. He looked back at his father's stern expression and took an unsteady step towards him.

"Here take this." In his hand was his woven red, yellow, and blue bracelet.

You took it from him and risked another quick hug before turning and finally climbing in the truck.

That was almost 7 years ago. You had visited for the first two years, but then slowly Hawkins became distant memories. You saw Stevie's parents when business called for it but between your nice private school, new friends, and ballet classes Stevie took a back seat in your mind.

Returning to Hawkins felt like a dream. It was almost unsettling driving through Mainstreet, like opening a diary you had long since forgotten. Your new house was much bigger than the one you had left behind. It's a unique experience, returning to a place so familiar yet foreign.

The Harringtons were waiting for your family as you pulled into the driveway. The lived just down the street. Apparently, the Harrington family had moved, not long after you, into the "nicer" part of town. Cheers and Shouts rang through the air as your parents spilled out of the Uhaul to greet each other while you and Stevie just stared at each other. Two strangers who used to be friends.

He helped you unpack and set up your furniture all while trying to make awkward small talk. You told him about your life in New York and he tried to catch you up on his. He promised to help you adjust, to be your friend. He kept his word.

Steve had changed a lot in 5 years. You had too, you guess. Like now he goes by Steve.

"Just Steve, not Stevie or anything else."

He's a lot less shy, cocky even. You were surprised to see he's popular, nicknamed "King Steve". He was once a bit of a playboy but now he has a girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, who seems really nice. He doesn't seem to care about grades anymore.

But he was also the same in a lot of ways. He still played sports, both swimming and basketball. He still had the same sense of humour. He still loved watching movies and listening to music. He was still sweet (although he tried to hide that).

What surprised you most though was how he had somehow become a babysitter. He wouldn't tell you much about how this came about. He did fill you in on the "Byer's Incident" though. You thought the tale was a little tall but everyone said the same thing, so you never questioned it.

School was pretty okay. You assimilated with Steve's group of friends. Your classes were easy because of your previous schooling. You joined the cheer squad. All in all, Hawkins wasn't so bad.

That was until October. Hawkins gained another "New Kid" who seemed to have it out for you and Steve. Steve because Billy wanted to be top dog and you because you called him a creep when he hit on you.

Then Nancy broke Steve's heart at a Halloween party. He was reasonably upset and confided in you. You hung out after the party, talking it over. The day after she shattered it, unable to tell Steve she loved him. He was then further disgraced when he found out Nacy had run off with Jonathan.

Steve got it in his head that he should apologise, for what you weren't sure. No matter how many times you laid out the facts to him he wouldn't listen. He told you he had to get her back and left. That was Saturday afternoon. He left and you haven’t seen him since. You were starting to worry.

You figured, at first, that his plan was successful and he was just preoccupied. You waited around all Sunday to hear from him. Your parents were all out of town in Tulsa and you were instructed to look out for each other. You waited out at his house for hours and nothing.

When the sun started to set you decided you would track him down. You riffled through the phonebook and found the number to the Wheeler's house. A sweet woman answered the phone but told you that Steve was never there.

"Nancy's spending the weekend at Ally's, if he came to see her we would have told him the same." She must have sensed your defeat because she offered up some other information.

"You know what? Dustin stopped by. Nance told me that Steve sometimes babysits him. He may know, let me give you the number."

You thanked her and hung up to call the Hendersons. Unfortunately, Ms Henderson didn't know where Steve or Dustin were either. She told you to call the Sinclairs, who told you to call the Byers. You called a few times and there was no answer. A dead end.

You paced Steve’s empty house. Where was he? Did he even come home last night? He was a good driver but sometimes he was stupid, impulsive. What if he crashed his stupid BMW? No, no, someone would have called you. Surely his parents or yours would have told you if they got a call.

After an hour of imagining the worst, you called Mrs Wheeler again and asked for the Byers' address. She warned you about driving up there in the dark and you didn’t have the heart to tell her you would be walking. You locked up the Harrington house and left a note for Steve if he did come back. You didn’t know how long the walk would be but you didn’t care.

You reached the mouth of the Byers’ driveway exhausted but suddenly relieved. There you could see a car you recognised as Steve’s. He was here. You had found him. But then you noticed the obnoxious blue Camaro. What the hell was Billy Hardgrove doing here? That’s when you heard screaming.

“Stop!” “Stop it!” “You’re gonna kill him!”

You started running up the gravel path. The screaming stopped before you reached the door. There’s nothing that could have prepared you for what was on the other side. Hargrove was laying on the floor with a bloody nose, a gaggle of tweens were standing in the living room, one holding up a pair of keys, and Steve was bloodied on the floor.

The kids all stopped and stared at you and you at them. No one moved as your collective brains tried to figure out what was going on. Then you heard a small groan and remembered why you were here.

“Steve!”

You fell to the floor beside him cradling his face. He blinked a few times before you saw a glint of recognition in his eyes.

“Hiiiiiiiiii” You wanted to strangle him for trying to be cute right now.

“Arthur. Steven. Harrington. I am going to kick your ass." He smiled and the blood on his lips leaked onto his teeth.

“Billy beat you to it.” And with that, his head lulled to the side and he passed out.

“Shit, shit, Stevie? Steven!” You looked back at the kids still staring at you.

“I need a damp wash rag and a first aid kit.” They stayed frozen, just looking at each other as if having a silent conversation. “NOW!”

That got them to scramble. They returned with a warm washcloth and a handful of colourful bandaids. You looked at the kid you assumed was Dustin with a raised brow.

“It’s all they had.” You huffed, accepting them and trying your best to clean up his face.

The kids fell back into the kitchen as you cleaned him up. When you were done you did your best to move Steve onto the couch.You walk in interrupting whatever important meeting they were holding in hushed whispers.

“I want answers. Now. What happened?” They looked at each other instead of answering. You were getting real sick of that.

“Hey! Over here! Why the fuck is Stevie knocked out on the couch right now?” They must not have appreciated your tone, because only the small brunette spoke up.

“Who the hell are you?” You watched as they all looked you over.

“I’m his friend, your turn.” The kids did another silent group convo before Dustin shrugged.

“Billy came over looking for Max and Steve went to send him away because Max said he would kill us. Then he saw us in the window and next thing we know the psychopath is throwing open the door and pinning Lucas against a cabinet, making threats. Lucas kneed him the dick to get away and then he was all like ‘You’re dead Sinclair. Dead!’ and then Steve was all like ‘No, you are.’ Then he punched him right in the face. Then he got a few more punches in, it really looked like he was gonna win for a second. But then Billy smashed a plate over his head and Steve fell over on the carpet there. And Billy was on top of him, cackling like a maniac while he punched Steve over and over. We thought he was gonna die, but then Max drugged him and then…well, you’re here now.”

You blinked dumbly for a moment before cursing under your breath.

“We don’t have time for this! We have to go, they need us!” You look at the brunette confused.

“Go? Go where? Who needs you? Who’s we?”

“That’s need-to-know information-” The kid in war paint and a bandana says.

“Yeah, party only. And Steve. And Max too.” Dustin tells you.

You look at them in disbelief. “Stevie isn’t going anywhere right now, and I assume he’s supposed to be babysitting you. You can’t just leave.”

“People are gonna die if we don’t leave, right now!” The brunette's face was red now.

As you looked around you saw nothing but desperation on the faces of the children surrounding you. You were inclined to believe them, as crazy as it seemed. All of your paranoia turned out to be justified, maybe theirs were too.

And that’s how you found yourself driving down the back roads of Hawkins in Billy Hargroves’ car with a bunch of kids you didn’t know and your best friend unconscious in the back seat. Not at all how you thought your night was gonna go. You were on a long stretch of road and the car was very quiet. Was very quiet.

“Can I ask you a question?” You glanced in the rearview mirror at Dustin.

“How about you each get one question and you have to tell me your names? Then I return the favour.” You saw some nods from the backseat passengers.

“I’m Lucas,” said your navigator. “How long have you known Steve?”

“We were childhood best friends until I moved to New York when we were ten. But now I’m back.”

“I’m Max, Why do you call him Stevie? Are you dating?” You scoffed.

“No, no, that’s just what we used to call him when he was a kid.”

“Dustin here, and you guys are asking the wrong questions. Is Steve’s full name Arthur Steven Harrington?”

“Yeah, he’s named after his dad.” Dustin let out a laugh.

“Oh my god, King Steve has the dorkiest name ever! Wait, his name is Arthur. He’s King Arthur! That’s kinda cool, actually. Why doesn’t he go by that?”

You huffed, “Dunno and I said one question.”

Dustin’s face fell into a grimace. You glazed back at the brunette who sat silently staring out the window. He seemed especially stressed. You felt you had done a good job of calming down the kids, even if it was at Steve’s expense.

“And what’s your name?” He remained silent until Dustin reached over to smack his arm. Dustin gave him a look of raised brows and that seemed to do the trick.

“I’m Mike.” His answer was short and clipped.

“Nice to meet you, Mike.” Your attempt at warmth did nothing to soften him up.

“Right, my turn then. I’m (Y/N). Now Lucas, where are we going? Like more than directions and more than some farm.” He seemed to hesitate before answering.

“Look, this is all really dangerous. It’s better not to get involved. The less you know the better.” You were confused by his sombre tone. What did a twelve-year-old know about life and death?

“Well, I hate to tell you but I am involved. I’m driving you all to this dangerous location, so maybe you could give me an idea of what I’m getting myself into?” He let out a sigh before explaining you were going underground to set fire to a hive mind running through all of Hawkins.

“Right, of course. That’s uh…okay, sure. Max, What’s connected to this hive mind underneath Hawkins?”

“We’re not sure. We know there’s demidogs and whatever’s inside Will right now. I don’t really get it myself, I just joined this circus today.” Jesus, every layer of this just added more confusion.

“Wait, Will? As in Will Byers, Jonathan’s little brother? There’s something inside him?” Dustin scoffed.

“What happened to one question?” You let out a small laugh.

“Alright, alright. Dustin, What’s inside of Will?” It blows your mind how longwinded this kid is. But you remember Steve saying something about that. He gave the whole rundown. About how Will was kidnapped by an interdimensional creature and taken to the “upsidedown” and how he’s been seeing the “Mind Flayer” and how it got to him.

“Wow, okay. Mike, What’s the plan?” He glared at you from the rearview window.

“You don’t believe us.” You felt the venom he spit at you and you weren’t sure what to do with it.

“Mike it’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just this is a lot. Imagine you’re me for a second. You go out looking for your friend and then before you know it a bunch of twelve-year-old kids are telling you the most boring town in the world is actually the epicentre of some evil dimension.” You hoped he would understand and maybe stop being so angsty towards you.

“We're not kids! And we’re not twelve, we’re thirteen!” You apologised for the assumption while Mike continued to stare you down. You thought that was all you were gonna hear from him, but he must have decided you were genuine.

“Our friends are trying to close the portal right now. The demidogs are gonna be swarming them, trying to protect it. The plan is to get to the centre of the hive mind and draw them away, clear a path for them.” You huffed out a sigh, soaking in his words.

“So, we’re the bait. Got it.”

The car fell into silence once again, the roar of the speeding engine filling the cab. You ask Lucas to give you directions again. Not because you need them, you’ve been to Merrill’s Pumpkin Patch plenty of times, but just to hear something. You needed a distraction from your spiralling mind and the nerves you felt eating at the lining of your stomach.

“What’s going on?”

For a second you forget that you’re driving dangerously fast in a car you don’t know well without a license, and you whip your head around to look at Steve, relieved that he finally woke up. He sees your face and begins to panic and that makes you panic too. More so than you were before. You only turn back around when you hear Lucas yell at you to look out. You swerve narrowly avoiding a mailbox. Everyone starts screaming at each other and you snap.

“Everybody shut the hell up!” Your head is starting to hurt, your brain being stretched to its thinnest in the last six hours.

“Oh, wait,” Lucas says catching your attention. “That’s Mount Sinai. Make a left. Make a Left!”

You pull hard on the steering wheel, coming off the road a bit before correcting yourself. Steve has not stopped yelling at you to both slow down and stop the car. You do neither as you continue to focus on Lucas’s voice.

It’s not long until you’re crashing through the familiar “Merrill’s Farm” sign. You park the car and everyone starts spilling out. You take a deep breath as you hear Steve start to try to wrangle the kids. You hear Dustin trying to talk him down and decide to help.

“Now, I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe. So, keep us safe.” Steve begrudgingly takes the bag that Dustin hands him and Dustin makes his way to the hole.

Only as he’s walking away does Steve notice you rummaging through the trunk for your own gear. He puts his hand out in front of you to stop you.

“Woah, Woah, Woah, you’re not going down there.” You push his hand away from you and grab your bag.

“Uh, yes, I am.” He stands up straighter now, squaring up to you.

“Like hell you are! You don’t even know what’s going on here, okay? This is fucking dangerous and I don’t want you anywhere near it.” You fix him a steeled gaze he hasn’t seen since you were kids.

“Listen to me, Steven. They filled me in on the way here. As confident as they are that we’ll survive, both of us know there’s a really good chance none of us make it out. Someone needs to watch over those kids and only one of us here isn’t suffering from a possible concussion.” You move to grab the Axe you brought.

“(Y/n)-”

“Look, you made a promise right? To keep them safe? Well, I did too, and I’m not about to let you walk through a hell dimension without me there to keep you safe.” You push past him, putting on your chemistry goggles and tying the T-shirt you found around your nose and mouth.

“Hey, (Y/n), wait.” Steve goes to grab the bridge of his nose before wincing. “Let me go first so I can spot you.”

That night he drove you home. The car ride was quiet. He pulled into his driveway and neither of you moved to get out. Both of you were thinking about everything that happened.

“(Y/N/N), are you okay?” You blinked a few times before answering.

“Yeah, I think so.” You looked over to Steve and you were reminded of the many years you spent apart. He’s so grown up now, no longer little Stevie. You didn’t realize you were staring until Steve looked away.

“I’m so sorry.” He was looking straight ahead; his hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. “You never should have gotten caught up in all of this.”

“Steve it’s okay-”

“No, Don’t. Don’t you dare say it’s okay. None of this fucking okay. You risked your life today. We could have died. You…you were looking for me and that’s my fault. And now your life will never be the same.” You rolled his words around in your mind, polishing them like a pearl.

“It was my choice. I could have left several times, but I didn’t.” He scoffed at your words but you cut him off before he could retaliate.

“If it were the other way around, what would you have done?” Steve’s mouth opened and closed but nothing came out.

“Don’t blame yourself, okay?” He shook his head back and forth as if trying to shake your reassurances out of his ears. You pulled on you your jacket sleeve and placed your wrist in front of his face.

“Do you see this?” His gaze fell onto a band of braided thread, the colours muted after the years.

“You’re stuck with me. I’m not going anywhere. And that’s my choice.” His grip on the steering wheel loosened. One hand fell to his lap while the other reached out to touch the bracelet in disbelief.

“You still have this thing?” You just nodded your head as his fingers traced the skin of your wrist.

In the glint of the streetlights, you saw his eyes get glassy just like all those years ago in your childhood bedroom. You reached across the console and did your best to wrap him in your arms. It took a moment for him to respond but when he did he held you tight. This hug lasted much longer than the one you received before disappearing behind the horizon in a Uhaul.

When he pulled away he didn’t go far. His arms stayed wrapped around your waist and yours stayed around his neck. The expression on his face wasn’t one you recognised. His eyes were swirling with something, the chocolate brown of his irises deeply saturated.

You never really looked at Steve before now. His face had matured a lot since you last saw him. His features are soft yet distinct. The moon cradles his face and you think he looks almost holy, a guardian angel damned only to protect but never protected. He has freckles of different sizes on his cheeks that trail down the side of his neck, the only flaws you can find. Even when beaten up he was beautiful.

Steve was having a revelation of his own, several really. He knew you pretty, that wasn’t new. He also knew that he loved you. But now he can’t help but think of his conversation with Dustin earlier that day. Electricity was singing in the space between you. Had it always been there?

That day behind the school gym he had called Jonathan Nance’s “other boyfriend”. She just as quickly called you his “other girlfriend” and told him he was just as guilty. He brushed it off at the time thinking it was nothing more than deflection, but now he wasn’t sure. He told himself that you guys were only so close because of your history, because he promised to be there. But these past few months he’s been relearning you. Your favourite snacks, songs, shoes, all of those things had changed and he loved getting to know you again. Now he sat in his car with you a breath away and he had never wanted to kiss you more.

You had both been staring at each other for a while now, too close for too long for it to be acceptable between friends. You felt his hand move from your waist to hold your face and for a second you forgot to breathe. Your brain was doing pirouettes and grande jetés in your brittle skull. You watch his caramel eyes drift from yours to your lips. His thumb is tracing small circles on your cheek and you feel something akin to fire; pulsing flames dancing between you. He starts to lean in and you panic.

“Stevie are you sure?” He looks at you with furrowed brows.

“Do you not want this?” Your emotions were fogging your brain, this was your last shred of sense he was prodding at.

“That’s not what I asked.” Your voice was smaller than he had every heard. He paused, thinking through his answer.

“No, I’m not but I think we should try.” And that was enough for you.

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