#hopefully writing out the thoughts will make them go away so i can feel less bad

[mitamicah]

One more little 'Micah having a self pity day': after having drawn the ice lashes I stand corrected - this was a mistake. Oh well you cannot win everytime

[ewanmitchellconnoisseur]

"𝑨𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒚" (Aemond x Reader)

A/N: I want to first say. I STRUGGLE with writing dialogue in different periods. So if I make this into a fic it is going to take me so long because I will have to read other people's stories and rewatch the show so the dialogue can be somewhat realistic. Hopefully, I do well...If not. Don't tell me shit. I don't wanna hear it. // Divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: You return with your family to King's Landing to defend Lucerys against your uncle Vaemond but he is not the uncle you worry about. Your mind is filled with the man you were once betrothed to what he will say when he sees you, and how he will act. You worry about how your Uncle Aemond will treat you after all this time.

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Tw: Oral Sex (f receiving)

Word Count: 5.4k (an absolute fucking monstrosity written in a couple hours)

"Would say it's nice to be home but I scarcely recognize it." Daemon hums slightly before walking around looking at every bit of the wall in disgust. Rhaenyra turns to you and your brothers. "I trust you three will stay out of trouble while we go visit your grandsire?"

Your brothers nod their heads as you all take your turn to look over what was once your home. It feels...darker than it did when you lived here, almost abandoned. If it was not for the servants walking around you would think it was.

Rhaenyra and Daemon walk away leaving you and your brothers.

"Come on. I want to see if that hole is still in the wall in the training yard." Luke rolls his eyes at the stupid memory which makes you smile. You follow after them as they try to recall the way there.

You don't listen to their conversation as Jace points out the hole that still remains. You can barely pay attention to anything anyone is saying. Your brain has been in panic mode since the moment you were told you would be returning here.

Scared to face your previous betrothed. You feel someone's hands wrap around yours and snap you out of your thoughts.

"Are you alright?" Luke says softly and looks at you worriedly. You nod and ruffle his hair with a smile.

"Im fine. Just...feels weird being back." He doesn't let go of your hand. You notice as he looks around at all the people staring at him and Jace. It had always been like this, people often compared you to your brothers in how different you looked. How you carried Targaryen features while they resembled Harwin Strong.

Unknown to you or your brothers at the time Rhaenyra and Laenor did truly try to conceive at least one trueborn child. But in the end, it was all too uncomfortable for them. It was only on their second try did they attempt it in another way. Laenor at first stayed in the room alone getting himself just before his peak so that when Rhaenyra came in all he had to do was empty himself inside of her. That one time resulted in you. The only child related to Laenor in both blood and name.

Jace comes and pulls Luke away to watch a fight you couldn't care less about. You walked around the yard looking at the various weapons laid out. You knew that you could fight far better than most of the men here, having been trained by Daemon himself.

Bored by the dusty swords and daggers you turn to watch the fight from the other side. Your heart dropped into your ass as you see the man before you.

He was tall...you always thought he would be. His hair sadly no longer carried those curls that once coiled around your fingers as he read to you. An eyepatch sat over his eye breaking your heart as you recalled the night.

"Get off of him!" "Stop it, Jace!" "Don't hurt him!"

You clamped your eyes closed wanting to fight off the painful memory. You were weak then, unable to help. You couldn't protect him in any way that mattered.

The claps of everyone around you had you opening your eyes once more. You watched as Aemond bested Criston in a duel.

"Well done, my prince, You'll be winning tourneys in no time."

"I don't give a shit about tourneys. Nephews...have you come to train?" You see the look on Luke's face and you feel bad for him. He and Jace had spent most of their time trying to learn High Valyrian and barely picked up a sword unless forced to. Aemond had clearly spent all his time training since the accident.

"Open the gates!" Everyone turns to watch as the guards open the gates and men carrying the banners of Velaryon walk in. You walk over to your brothers and hold onto Luke's hands as Vaemond passes by staring Luke down. Vamond's expression only softens as he looks at you and he offers you a warm smile.

The same smile he had given you at Laena's funeral as he took the opportunity to call your brother's bastards in such a sad time. You hear Luke audibly gulp and you try to soothe him by running your fingers over his knuckles.

"Let's go inside." You place a hand on Jace's back to calm him down as you notice the look of anger on his face at the sight of Vaemond.

As you turn to enter the Red Keep your eyes automatically land on Aemond who now wears an expression you can't quite place. His eyes are only on you and for a moment it feels like there's only you two but Jace is quick to step in front of your view and to give Aemond a look you can't see. Whatever it is has him turning around in anger and returning to sparring with Criston.

You walk with Rhaenyra and Rhaena towards Rhaenys.

"Grandmother" Rhaena calls out and basically runs over to her. You follow behind her.

"Rhaena..." Rhaena stands before her as Rhaenys holds her hand. You step beside her and Rhaenys looks over to you. She steps forward and places a hand on your cheek. "You two have grown beautifully." She kisses both of your cheeks.

"Baela said you might be here." Your mother comes closer, each step wary. "She's done well as your ward. You've um... raised her admirably." Rhaenys doesn't look over and keeps her eyes trained on both you and Rhaena.

"You honour me, Princess." Rhaenys smiles softly at Rhaenyra.

"Might I speak to the Princess alone, girls?" Rhaena looks to your grandmother almost for permission. She nods and lets go of both of you.

"Princess." Rhaena begins to walk away. You give your grandmother another kiss on the cheek before leaving.

Rhaenyra smiles at you as you walk away to join Rhaena.

"What do you think they're talking about?" You both look back once more before heading inside.

"I have no idea." You look at your mother who steps closer to your grandmother. Rhaene takes your arm and you turn to her. "Come. Let us go find the boys."

That night it rained and the sound of thunder filled your old chambers. His face filled your memories. His voice echoed in your ears.

"Can I kiss you Aemond?" Your fingertips ran over the dip of his lips as you imagined what they would feel like on yours."You never have to ask Princess."

You touch your lips at the memory of your first kiss. The only kiss you ever got to share with him. How soft his kiss was, how gentle he was. Your lips yearned for another kiss. Your body begs for his warmth and your heart breaks. It breaks at the memory of when your betrothal was cancelled when you knew the future you both talked about would never happen.

"How many children will we have?" Your head lay in his lap as he read a book, his fingers twirling your hair as you pick the petals of a flower. "As many as you are willing to bear me, Princess." You blush brightly which only brings a smile to his face. But your brain always knows how to ruin the moment as a new thought plagues your mind."Would you be angry at me if I had a girl first?" Aemond closes his book and looks down at you. "I could never be angry at you."

You sat up in your bed to the sound of a knock at the door. Your hands roughly smooth over your head pushing your hair back as if it wipes away the memories and dreams.

How can one live like this? How can one continue on in life like this? He is in every breath you take, every time you close your eyes his face decorates the darkness that you simply wish would consume you. You are reminded of him in every waking moment of your life.

Another knock comes to your chamber doors and you know you have no choice but to start your day. You sweat at the thought of seeing him again.

Will he keep to his words? Will he not be angry with you for being gone for so long? For not sending any letters? You did not want to find out. In truth you just want to stay in your chambers all day and sleep, but for the sake of Luke you would attend the hearing.

"The crown will now hear the petitions." Otto sits on the throne as his voice echoes throughout the hall. "Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon."

Vaemond steps forward as everyone looks towards him. Everyone but Aemond. You can see him in the corner of your eye his gaze is focused on you. Never looking away, never taking a break.

You stand next to Daemon looking forward. Knowing that if you even willed your eyes to move it would land on him. And you couldn't bear to look at him.

"My Queen. My Lord Hand." Vaemond then goes on to talk about the history and the days of Old Valyria. You can't hear him, you can't hear anything once more over the beating of your heart.

"Iksis bisa iā qogror iā elekor?" [Is this a class or a hearing?] Daemon whispers to you. He notices your rigid stance and how you're taking in shallow breaths. He places a hand on your elbow and you look over to him. He gives you a look of "Are you ok?" to which you nod.

He returns back to staring Vaemond down hoping he will eventually burn holes into the side of his head and will fall dead where he stands but not everyone is that lucky. It is only then that he notices a one-eye fucker staring in his direction. He shifts his gaze and notices Aemond staring at you. Aemond can feel someone looking at him and looking towards Daemon before pressing his lips in a thin line and giving Vaemond his attention.

"As it does in my sons and daughter, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon." You are snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of your mother's voice. You look over to her. "If you cared so much about your house's blood Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful hair." Vaemond holds a look of anger towards her. "No, you only speak for yourself. and for your own ambition."

"You will have a chance to make your own petition Princess Rhaenyra." You look towards Alicent. "Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard." Next to her, you see the smirks of both Aegon and Aemond. You know they enjoy this, seeing Luke be openly called a bastard.

Why are your brothers blamed and dragged through the mud for what your mother has done? Are they not innocent in their own conceivement?

Vaemond gives Alicent a slight nod before turning towards your family.

"What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess?" He speaks to your mother in a condescending tone. "I could cut my veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn't recognize it."

Your heart twinges for your mother. You feel conflicted all the time. On one hand, your brothers are indeed not blood-related to your father. But he had accepted them as his sons publicly no doubt. What could he have done for people to recognize them as his children? On the other hand, Vaemond proves a point in matters of blood. But is it not the last names people remember?

They both ride dragons, and they learn the tongue of the dragon. They are everything Targaryen but in matters of looks and blood. But that is more than enough for people to shun them. You want to side with them with your full heart, but how can you when you understand the opposition's points?

"King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the andals and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

You look up in awe as you watch your grandsire slowly walk into the room. The only sound was the tapping of his cane against the floor. You had not seen him in so long, he looked so old and different. Hunched over and in pain.

You watch as he makes his way up to the throne and Daemon aids him. Otto moves over to stand next to Alicent and you can see the confusion and anger on his face. His plans are ruined and whatever chance he had at getting the Velaryons on their side is squandered.

"I must...admit...my confusion." Your grandsire breathes quickly as he tries to regain his strength. "I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession." You listen as he calls for your grandmother to speak.

You feel hot. This room feels hot. You pull repeatedly at the band on your wrist. A coping mechanism you developed when you felt so far away from everything. You snap the band against your wrist as you listen to your grandmother who only further pushes for Corly's wishes for Lucerys to be the next Lord of the Tides. You miss her announcing the marriage between your brothers and cousins.

You can't focus. He is still staring at you. You make the mistake of closing your eyes cause when you open them they are on him. You take in a sharp breath and stare back at him. Your heart feels as though someone is squeezing it, your chest heavy as if a dragon sits atop it. You want nothing more than to go over there but you keep your feet planted.

"That is no true Velaryon." You jump slightly looking towards your uncle as he angrily points at Luke. "and certainly no nephew of mine." Your mother tells your brothers to head to their chambers before attempting to silence Vaemond.

"You can not all be blind surely? To look upon both my grandniece and her sons and think they share the same father?" Everyone looks at you and for a moment you wish you could shrink into the walls, fade into the people behind you. "She even skips her daughter so that her son could inherit Driftmark when it belongs to my niece. She wishes to cover her tracks and erase my niece's future." You've never felt that way. You were never upset at your mother's decisions. Maybe you always assumed you'd end up with Aemond. "Gods be damned...I will not see it ended on the account of this-" Your eyes widen as you realize what he wishes to say.

You feel a heat radiate beside you and notice the body language of Daemon has changed. A hand rests on his sword as his head is cocked to the side.

"Say it." He whispers softly. Vaemond gives Daemon a smug look.

"Her sons...are BASTARDS! And she...is...a whore." Everyone gasps and you notice the heat beside you is missing. You watch as King Viserys unsheaths his dagger and calls for your uncle's tongue.

You then hear a thud and turn and see Vaemond's body hit the floor. His head was cut off at the mouth, his tongue still attached. Much happens in those moments but your eyes stay on Vaemond's body. It is only when your mother places a hand on your cheek you look away.

"Go with your grandmother. She might need comfort."

You stand next to Rhaenys, holding her hand as the silent sisters work on your uncle.

"Did you ever feel that way, little ocean?" You look over to her as her eyes are trained upon his seperated head. "As if your mother was trying to erase you?"

"No, grandmother. To be honest. I had always imagined myself living here, in the Red Keep." You looked around the room watching the sisters move slowly and carefully.

"Married to Aemond." Your quick to look back towards her she offers you a faint smile before turning to you. "Come back with me, to Driftmark. Your grandsire would love to see you and I have missed your presence." You nod, not caring to say that you should ask the permission of your mother and father.

The Grand Maester walks over and speaks. You stare at the body of your uncle once more. Is this justice? He called your mother a whore and your brother bastards...but was he wrong?

"The Stranger has visited me more times than I can count, Grand Maester." You feel her squeeze your hand. "I assure you, he cares little whether my eyes are open or closed." You watch as he leaves. "You should go, little ocean. Your grandsire wishes for you to eat with your family."

"Will you not dine with us?" You brush your fingers against her hand.

"I fear I have lost my appetite." She kisses your head. "We will take our leave on the morrow." You nod before leaving the room with a final look towards your uncle.

As you enter the dining hall your family is already there. The table already has its sides. On the right sit your mother and your family and on the left sit the Queen and hers. The separation hurts you and you wish you could do something about it. Mend it in whatever way possible. You would give your own life if it meant uniting your family.

Jacerys offers his seat so you can sit next to Baela and he moves to her other side. The switch puts you next to Aegon but you do not mind. He has never been one to bother you before, and only ever makes small jokes, which you would never admit to his face, can be funny.

"Mother?" Rhaenyra turns in her chair towards you.

"Yes, my heart?" She places a hand on your arm you smile at the name. Each one of you had one, Jace was often referred to as her love, Luke as her sweet boy, and you her heart.

"Grandmother has requested I return with her to Driftmark... I'd like to. To see grandsire, if that is all right with you." She smiles softly and brings your hand to her lips as she kisses it.

"Of course." You hear the doors open and see your grandsire being carried in. "We will talk more later. Go sit." You walk over to your chair and stand until he is placed in his spot.

As you walk over you look up and see his eyes on you once more. He stands at the head of the table watching you. You sit only when you notice everyone else does and clasp your hands together when Alicent calls for prayer. You've read about the Seven and know only as much as books taught you. You hear Alicent's prayer but you pray your own. You ask The Warrior and The Smith to give you strength, you beg for forgiveness from The Maiden for your thoughts and acknowledge The Stranger, for you both feel like outcasts in this world.

"This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins Baela and Rhaena." It is only then that you feel the weight of his gaze lift, as he looks at your brother on the other end of the table. Your grandsire calls for a toast to your brothers. He calls for another toast for Lucerys as the future Lord of the Tides.

"I also want to say. How beautifully my granddaughter has grown." You feel the eyes of everyone turn to you, and your mother smiles. Even Alicent gives you a genuine gentle smile. "Im sure by your next nameday we will have found a suitable match for your hand. Let us toast in hopes you will find someone deserving of you." Everyone raises their glass.

But it is only Aemond who does not. You watch as Aegon leans over you towards Baela.

"He does know how the act is done, I assume? At least in principle. Where to put your cock and all that?"

"Let it be cousin," Baela responds clearly annoyed. Jace responds but you don't hear it whatever he says has Aegon sitting back down fully in his seat.

You stare forward as King Viserys makes a speech. You return to snapping the band against your wrist as you again feel the heat of his stare. Words are shared between the Queen and your mother before Aegon gets up and sets himself in between Baela and Jace.

"I, um I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer. But if you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, all you have to do is ask-" Jace bangs his hands on the table before standing up which leads to Aemond standing up as well ready to protect his brother if need be.

Aegon sits down quickly next to you. More speeches go on, too many speeches. You wish everyone would just shut up so we can all be done with this dinner. Either that or let us remove our masks and speak the truth. You have grown tired of this tension and fake genuineness.

You remain next to Aegon as food is brought out and Jace takes Helaena to dance. You can see the look on his face. He looks over your family with a sort of longing. Everything he has ever wanted on display in front of him.

"Would you care to dance uncle?" He looks over to you with a surprised look on his face. He puts down his cup and is about to put out his hand when someone clears their throat. You look over to the noise and see Aemond staring at the two of you.

"Not if I wish to lose my head." He picks his cup back up and returns to watching everyone. You look over to Aemond who only stares at you with no emotion.

You watch as guards walk over to your grandsire and take him away. You make a plan in your head to go visit him tonight to speak to him.

The mood is only spoiled as a pig is placed in front of Aemond. You hear the light chuckles of Luke and curse him in your head. You flinch as Aemond's hand bangs the table and he stands up picking up his cup.

"Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace...Luke...and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise..." And in that pause alone you feel that separation between families grow. "...strong. Come...let us drain our cups to these three strong boys."

"I dare you say that again." You tense as Jace speaks already being able to tell where this is going.

"Why? 'Twas only a compliment." Aemond lowers his cups and walks over to Jace. "Do you not think yourself strong?" Jace punches Aemond...or...attempts to. Aemond still stands unwavering and not a drop spilt from his cup.

Aegon grabs Luke who tries to walk over to help Jace and slams his head on the table. You stand up and walk over to Aegon and pull his hair, yanking his head back. He releases Luke and only smiles up at you. You put him in the same position he had your brother in, slamming his head against the table and holding him down until guards come and step in between you two.

You remain standing at the chairs as the sides are made once more. You stand somewhat in the middle. Jace attempts to run back over to Aemond but Daemon steps in front of him.

"Go to your quarters. All of you go now." Your siblings and cousins leave but you remain still standing in your spot. You watch as Aemond and Daemon stare at each other silently. Aemond then turns to you and so does everyone else, he looks at you and then hums to himself as he walks out of the room.

"Come little rogue." Daemon puts his arm out for you. You take his arm, your mother pats your cheek and you follow him out of the room.

You sit in your mother and Daemon's chambers caring for young Aegon and Viserys along with a couple of maids.

Your mother walks in and takes a seat next to Daemon.

"I will see the boys home. Then I will return on dragonback." She holds Daemon's hand.

"Just the boys?" He asks looking over at you.

"Grandmother has asked me to return with her and Baela to Driftmark." He nods.

"Head to bed rogue." You nod and stand up walking over to your parents. You kiss your mother's cheek and place a hand on her stomach before walking past Daemon and pulling on the small ponytail in his hair softly and leaving the room.

Daemon watches as you leave with a smirk on his face and waits until the door is closed to speak.

"Did you see the way he looked at her?" Rhaenyra is taken aback by Daemon's tone. He stands up and paces.

"Who, my love?" She rubs her belly as she watches her children play.

"Aemond." He scowls. "He's been looking at her since we arrived as if he wants to take her where she stands. Which is impressive since the fucker only has one eye." he sits back down.

"They were once betrothed Daemon. Before that, they were closer than any of the kids. They spent all their free time together." She smirks at her husbands's protectiveness. It didn't take long for him to see you as one of his own daughters.

"We should discuss her future marriage. Maybe it's time we start looking for a husband for her." Rhaenyra nods.

"We will speak to her about it when she returns from Driftmark. Vaemond was right about one thing...she is being erased...I had not realized I was doing that." Daemon took her hand and placed the other on her bump.

"That fucker didn't know what he was talking about. You are a great mother to her, and she has had no complaints about her inheritance." She knows he's right.

"Nonetheless. If there is one thing I can give her is a choice. She will decide who she marries. I would feel better knowing it's a man of her own choosing."

Your handmaids leave the room once you're finished being dressed for bed. You sit in front of your vanity staring at yourself.

When had you become someone you didn't recognize? When did you begin just walking the earth instead of living on it? When had you become so...lonely.

You walk over to the balcony and step outside. Pulling your robe tighter to your body against the cold air. You close your eyes and though you aren't sure who it is you are speaking to you beg them to help you. To bring you happiness and peace.

"Mandianna" You hear him from behind you. You turn around slowly and see him standing inside your room. You slowly walk in and close the balcony doors behind you, locking them.

"...Aemond..." You move to take another step to him but he raises a hand.

"For as long as I can remember you...Not a day has gone by when I haven't thought of you." You take a deep breath as he speaks. "And now that you're here...I'm in agony." He takes a step towards you. "The closer I get to you, the worse it gets. The thought of not being with you...I can't breathe." He stops in front of you a hand on your cheek. "I'm haunted by the kiss that you should never have given me. My heart is beating, hoping that that kiss will not become a scar." He lowers his head so he hovers just above your lips. "You are in my very soul, tormenting me...what can I do? I will do anything you ask."

You stare up into his eyes and feel drawn into them. You drown in them putting up no fight. Wanting to feel that darkness that has followed you all these years surround you.

"Kiss me." And he does and it is everything you've imagined. You give him full reign and kisses you with the same intensity that a drowning man comes up for air.

When he finally pulls away he admires your bruised lips and brushes the tears from your eyes.

"Aemond...I have grieved for what we could have been...so much time has passed. And our families have only grown farther apart." He kisses the side of your cheek.

"But what is grief if not love persevering?" He wraps his arms around your waist pulling you right against him as his eyes meet yours. "I have yet to meet another soul who is fluent in my language..but you? You are fluent in me." You place your hands on his chest. "Marry me. In the tradition of our ancestors. Let my blood become yours, and yours mine." You see the hope in his eyes.

"And what of our families?" They would never accept this." You try to pull away but he holds you tight against him.

"I refuse to sacrifice the one person who sees me for who I am for a family who barely sees me for the mask I wear." He leads you towards your bed and sits you down at the edge of it before sitting before you on his knees. "You are mine. You were always meant to be mine."

His hands trail up your legs as a smirk spreads over his face.

"Aemond. We can't." He pushes up your nightgown while kissing his way up your legs.

"I will not spoil you. I will only wish for a preview of what will be mine." He pushes your dress up all the way and pulls down your small clothes. He pulls your legs over his shoulder as he lowers himself in between your thighs.

He wastes no time drinking you up. His tongue tastes whatever he can, his nose brushing against your bud softly. His tongue stiffens inside of you as he finds that place his brother had told him about. It has you lying down covering your mouth.

"Ae-Aemond..." He moans against your cunt in pleasure at your moans of his name. "Please..." you're unsure of what it is you are begging for but whatever it is you know you need it.

He brings a finger to better rub your bud as he fucks you with his tongue. He can feel you clenching and watches as you're soon arching off of the bed holding on to his hair.

The feeling is unlike anything you've experienced. A large opposite from how dark you have been feeling. You feel lighter as if pent-up energy has been released.

He gives your bud one last kiss before walking away and returning with a wet cloth. He wipes his face first before gently cleaning you. When he's done you sit up and he sits next to you pulling you into his lap.

You feel how hard he is below you and move so your legs are wrapped around his torso. You grind down on him and he looks up at you holding on to your hips. The friction against your bud only builds back up that feeling in your stomach. You kiss Aemond as he continues to guide you so you're grinding down on him. He picks up speed his mouth agape.

Without saying anything you reach and pull the eye patch off of him. Aemond stops and looks away hiding his face. You place a hand on his cheek and turn him back to you.

"Gevie." You kiss his scar gently and admire the sapphire that replaces his eye. He returns to grinding you down on him lewd thoughts fuelling his actions. His breaths become louder and you even hear a gentle moan from him.

"Fuck~" you feel him stiffen beneath you. He presses his forehead against your chest pulling you flush against him.

"I will speak to my mother and even my father. If they say no. I will come for you and only then will I fuck you and mark my name into your wet cunt so that they will have no choice but to marry us."

He kisses you again. You taste yourself on his tongue.

"You say that as if the breaking of Princess' maidenheads has not been hidden before. They could easily give me to someone who would not care."

"To that...mandianna. I tell you that idiots are highly flammable...and we ride dragons..." He kisses your exposed chest.

"I say...let them burn."

A/N: This was for the girls who dream of marrying a prince and end up falling for the misunderstood villain.

I have thought of doing another part or turning this into a mini-series at least. But for now, this is just a one-shot.

Shoutout to the Star Wars Anakin monologue that fueled me to write this anyway.

Taglist: @thought--bubble @valeskafics @dixie-elocin

[za-vandal]

Self indulgent, Pre-release Mr Reca thoughts (and hopefully prayers for me, because this man makes me salivate.)

Nsfw don't like don't read

This is filthy as hell.

Pet play, dacryphilia, and probably a few more I hadn't think of yet, this is a wild ride

I wanna make this man whimper so hard you have no fucking idea, this man makes me feral. I want to see him on the floor like a dog for me just augghhhhhhhhhh

Anyways.

Mr Reca with pet play. You saw the trailer, you will see the vision. Crazy director man who probably has a thing for controlling things because of his personality (maybe) or profession? Sign me the fuck up. I want to see this twink with a collar and leash. I want to fuck him hard and make him whimper and call him a pathetic little puppy. I want to make him wear a tail plug.

Or, alternatively, make him hump my shoe while he wears some fluffy dog ears. I see him as a dog boy, I have no idea why, but he gives possessive dog boy vibes. Bear with me here. Make him a custom collar or thigh straps with your name on it. I mean he already has them in his daily outfit, it would just make sense y'know?

Mr Reca with dacryphilia because I like my men crying and in pain. That thing about men whimpering and whining being hot is my whole personality when I'm reading fics, that is my vanilla, let's go. I want to see this pretty man crying while I suck him dry, I want to kiss his tears away while I prevent him from coming over and over. And by gods above I want to see this man full on bawling after all the overstim. Kiss away the tears because I'm soft like that.

Mr Reca but we tie him up with his straps. Why does one man need that many straps anyways? Or hell, his jacket thing works too, that shit def looks hot if he wore it without a shirt underneath like the back is 80% open, it covers nothing but it's giving everything fr. Y'all think we can hang him up with just his straps? Fuck him hard while he's up?

Mr Reca but we def filming, I shit you not that is the thing that started this post. Use his phone, your phone, do it on a private Livestream for yourself, use his freaking cameras, do it on set let's goooooooooo. I wanna watch him write his scripts as we fuck, let him sit on your dick if you can, if not cockwarm him instead. We winning no matter what. Make that man struggle and whimper, we ✨love✨ whimpering men in this house. If he feels generous maybe he'll let us wrap him up with his film tape of him being fucked and takes pictures with it. He probably won't though, but he'll probably keep them~♡ I wanna see him drool on camera so I can zoom in on his face and take pictures of it.

Mr Reca and a breeding kink???? A height difference and size kink??? I can see this going both ways. I feel like it's less breeding kink, and more he likes the feeling of cum. How to explain this? No clue. But I just think he would. Let him suck you off or eat you out, get his face wet~

For the size/height kink I think it goes both ways. I think he doesn't really care if you're smaller than him or bigger than him, he just likes it y'know? Maybe you're smaller than him but you can fuck his brains out. Maybe you're tall enough you can lift him up and fuck him against the wall without his feet touching the floor. ✨Just difference in general✨ baby. Bonus points too if you're big, I feel like he'll enjoy getting squished. Doesn't matter if you're masc or femme leaning and/or presenting, he likes getting squished.

And I hadn't really started on the real size kink idea yet, damn. Okay, size kink when he sees his stomach having a bulge as you fuck him. We love a skinny twink. I think he would see it and his mind would just go blank, like, "what the fuck, you're that big" kinda thing. Strap on or not, I think the surprise factor of seeing it is something he likes.

Mr Reca with mirrors. Listen. Trust me. Mirrors. I just love watching this unhinged man get his mind fogged by pleasure. This is a thing I love. I wanna see his face and watch him cry and watch him struggle. We've seen how deranged this man is in the trailer, now let's fuck him up literally so we can see his face more. Do it against those big, wall length mirrors you see in dancing studios if he's working on a musical or something. Do it in one of his trailers while he's out filming on set, bonus if it's not even room and we just press him against a random ahh mirror in a random trailer for costume and makeup.

I blame the unhinged energy today on my exams.

Hope you enjoyed? Well, technically I wrote this for myself but, sure. Posting this for funsies.

[oldwritingm]

hello!

hopefully requests are open rn, but just in case...

Can I request the Ninjas with a shy reader? Like someone who gets flustered really easily, doesn't know how to properly ask for affection, can't order for themselves at a restaurant, ect.

I think this is a really cute trope and I love seeing it in writing!

Oh I totally agree!! As a shy person myself I never get tired of seeing this trope hehe <3

Ninjago - Ninjas With a Shy s/o

Jay

I don't think you'll have to worry about asking for affection with him

If anything, you'll have to worry about asking for some space

Jay's super affectionate when it comes to romance, and he gets so lost in his loverboy haze that he won't see your "stop" signs unless you express them explicitly

But he does love seeing you all flustered

For him it's a sign that his love is getting to you (in a good way!)

He gets the biggest grin when he can make you blush, and he practically melts when you avert your gaze bashfully

"Aww, look at you being all shy. You're adorable."

Probably pinches your cheek too, that corny dude (we still love him though <3)

Jay can also be pretty anxious when it comes to social situations, but that goes out the window when it comes to you

Definitely will do the "excuse me they asked for no pickles!! >:(" thing, just for you <33

And he does NOT tolerate other people making you shy

As soon as he notices you're blushing or looking away because of someone else, he's at your side in an instant helping you escape the situation

totally not because he's jealous

Zane

He thinks it's cute that you're shy :)

He loves the way your cheeks turn pink when he complements you, or the way you fiddle nervously when you don't know what to say

You're so adorable to him

Whenever he manages to fluster you a bit, he gets a little grin and does an internal happy dance

But if he flusters you too much he feels bad

He doesn't want to actually breach any boundaries with you

But he's usually careful about that, keeping the affection pretty light so you don't get embarrassed (but he still gives you enough that you know he loves you <3)

Unfortunately that means that you're going to have to work up some real courage if you want something more

I feel like he's got this duality when it comes to social situations...

On the one hand, he has no trouble standing up for the ones he loves (you) when they need it

He'll totally step up for you when the time comes

But at the same time he's a little shy himself, and he's not going to do anything too drastic

Like if someone is making you uncomfortable, he'll just tug your sleeve and give you the "let's get out of here" look

Kai

He also thinks it's super cute that you're shy

But I feel like he'd also encourage you to stand up for yourself more often

He LOVES making you flustered though

It's just so easy

One wink and you're red as a firetruck... but he likes to get more creative than that

Compliments and pda galore man,,, someone stop this fiend

He does it because yes, it does make you all shy and that's adorable, but also because he wants you to build a tolerance to it (if that makes sense)

He wants you to become at least a little less shy, only for your own benefit

He's happy to stand up for you, or ask you what you need instead of you having to bring it up yourself, but what he'd really love is for you to have some initiative

The first time you compliment him back, or order your own food, he is OVER THE MOON

You thought he was affectionate before? Be prepared for a whole new level of love when he gets all proud like that

He still thinks it's cute when you get shy though, so he's not going to change you completely

Mans just wants you to have a bit more confidence!

Because you're amazing and you deserve that much at least 😤

Cole

He's chill with you being shy

Yes, he thinks it's cute, but he also recognizes it as a potential problem in your relationship

Not in a "something we might break up over" way though!! I must emphasize this!!

More in a "something I need to be conscious about" way

Like, he knows that you struggle sometimes, so he'll try to compensate :)

He'll ask you if you want affection, or just give it to you when he thinks you need it

He's already walking in front of you when you approach the fast food counter, ready to order for you

And in social situations he offers his hand for you to hold, not only for anxiety but so that you don't get separated

He doesn't mind doing any of this one bit btw :)

If anything, he sees it as a way to prove his love for you

But he's also not going to make a big deal about it or hold it over your head or anything

He does all of it as if it's the most casual thing in the world, and the longer you're together, that only becomes more true

Ofc he'd love to see you gain some confidence, but he's also totally fine being your social shield and advocate :)

Lloyd

Definitely teases you about how shy you are (specifically about how you get so cute when you're shy)

Never mind that he is also pretty shy

Literally all you have to do when he's teasing you is say "you're one to talk" and he's just like:

But on a different note, he does like making you blush :)

He thinks it's cute when you get a little shy, but like Kai he also wants to see you gain a little confidence

His method is different though... prepare for a shower of affection and hype work

Always spends at least two minutes gushing about how gorgeous you are before going out

Dw, he waits for you to stop blushing before you actually go in public

But he makes you agree with him

"You're gorgeous!! Look in the mirror! No, seriously, look. Look how stunning you are!"

And you'll just get a shy grin, giving a little nod

Insecurity? not on his watch

And when you need to confront someone he'll do it, but he makes you come along

He'll hold your hand if you like though :)

Nya

NYA LOVES HER SHY S/O!!!

no im not just saying this because im shy and i want her to love me

She loves being able to stand up for you, being your big strong gf <3

She practically jumps at the opportunity to protect you in social situations

Not to the point that she's overprotective, but you'll definitely feel her eyes on you when you get separated

And she also tries to stay in tune with your implied feelings, since you struggle to express them explicitly

She'll test the waters with remarks like "anything... frustrating happen today?" when she thinks you're mad, or "man, I don't know about you, but I could really use some cuddles..." when she thinks you need affection

She tries to open up opportunities like that for you; whether you take them or not is up to you

But she might get pushy if she's convinced about something, asking more direct questions like "okay, be serious with me: what's wrong?"

She'll make you look at her when you reply

She'll always understand your feelings, but what she doesn't understand is you hiding them from her

You'll have to learn to be a lot more candid and upfront (at least with her) when you date her

She's fine when you're shy in public, and even when you're shy in private to an extent, but what she won't tolerate is you closing yourself off from her

She just wants to know how you're feeling so she knows how to help :(

Thank you so much for this request, I had a lot of fun with this one hehe! And thanks for reading, take care duckies <33

(divider by saradika)

[shurisneakers]

paper man

warnings: angst, no sad ending, talks of death. unedited drabble that was written in 20 minutes.

a/n: i wanted angst and couldn't find any so i did this myself. will this make it onto my masterlist? who knows. it's 11pm and i have mary by big thief playing. my cat is yelling at me and really killing the sad girl vibe i got going. why does bucky look like a used car salesman in thunderbolts. whatever. love u guys

word count: 660

“If I die tomorrow,” he starts, eyes still staring into the TV.

Your eyebrow quirks. “You're not going to die tomorrow. We're going bowling.”

“If I die tomorrow,” Bucky repeats, and you know he's not with you. He's wandering around the morning fog and thickets of his mind, arm stuck out while he meanders inside a labyrinth.

It's late. He's right on time. You know from experience that his thoughts don't belong to him after the sun sets.

“I–” he begins, and then his mouth clamps shut again.

From across the couch, you shoot him a glance that hopefully conveys understanding. Fast food wrappers litter the worn leather, hurdles between the both of you.

“I don't have a will,” he finally manages to get out.

You let out an exhale, soft.

“Let's make one now?” you offer.

Through his mist, he looks at you. Eyes the way it would be if you tried staring into the sun. Mouth tired, shoulders so low it sinks into dirt.

“I'll write it on my phone. We can do something about it in the morning,” you continue.

Bucky turns back to the TV, and the mindless chatter of late night commercials fills in the silence you leave in your wake.

He could die tomorrow. So could you. So could everyone you knew. It was an occupational hazard you thought he'd made his peace with.

Your phone lies beside you, and you're honestly a little embarrassed that your suggestion was shot down.

Most days you don't know what he needs. Admittedly, he doesn't either. Sometimes slow kisses with his back pressed up against the headboard does the trick. Other days….well, you don't know. He never lets you see those.

You can't blame him. What you both had with each other found a description in the quiet and the twilight. You hadn't even really spent the night in his room.

“I don't have anythin’ to leave,” his voice comes out like gravel, snapping you out of the pit you wanted to dig yourself. “That's the thing. If I die tomorrow, I don't have anythin' to my name. Nothin’ that matters anyway.”

His gaze shifts downward ever so slightly. If the TV wasn't illuminating his face in a pale sickly yellow, you'd see that his cheeks were burning red. His throat feels like it's folded in on itself.

“You got people to leave things for?” you ask, watching him keenly.

He catches your eye, sending a jolt through you. You shift awkwardly on the couch.

“Think so,” he says solemnly. It reads more like a question, with the way he observes you.

“Okay.” You nod. “Then we'll find you things.”

His eyebrows knit together, deepening the crease between them.

“I don't know where to start.” His words sound raw, like a croak.

You watch his head duck again. His body is stiff, and he looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin.

You look around the room, but your eyes land on the paper remains of your dinner. A thought crossed your mind, and you hesitate.

Bucky is too busy trying to see through thick trees and fog. It stretches above him so tall, taking away even what little sunlight crawls through the leaves.

The couch dips next to him and he's snapped out his labyrinth for a second.

Your hand is held out for his. It comes so naturally that he doesn't even remember stretching his palm out to meet yours.

You drop a tiny paper man onto his metal hand. It's twisted together from a napkin and its mangled limbs are uneven.

“Just a place to start,” you tell him softly.

Bucky stares at it while you inch back to your place.

While you shift the channel to something less repetitive and tedious, his fingers wrap around the origami project.

The fog fades in the light of the morning. The trees look a little less daunting.

He's got people to leave things for.

And a tiny paper man.

[aclowntiny]

Hi!!! Could you do a reaction of ATEEZ's S/O kissing their cheeks just to prove the other member that they can make the member blush in less than minute?

I LOVE THIS!!! Yes I can & will it shall be my honor & pleasure 😌😆 hopefully you enjoy me running away with the scenario in a few of them hehe~ (The way I was listening to SOAD while writing this 😂)

Ateez + Kisses to Prove You Can Make Them Blush (Gender Neutral Reader)

Hongjoong

The moment you lean in, he’s leaning back a bit. Not that he doesn’t want you to kiss him, it’s just, well…

“Not in front of the guys!”

Stifling a chuckle, you just pull him in, cupping his face and pressing a kiss to his cheek, then one more to the other side. You pull back, admiring his gorgeous features for a moment with a smile before starting a full retreat. You know Hongjoong. If he isn’t already flushed by the initial embarrassment, this’ll get him. Sure enough, contrary to his reaction, the moment you start to leave, fingers sliding gently back down his cheeks and under his chin, he catches them in his.

“Oh?” You feign surprise.

“At least give me a real kiss,” Hongjoong chides, but you know he’s not truly annoyed by the amusement in his eyes and smirk on his lips.

“Alright,” you reply with a shrug, fingers returning to their moments-old grip as you yanked him into your lips.

The kiss is short but forceful, and you can feel Hongjoong restraining from getting any messier because, well, the guys. As you finally let go of him, you smile at the angelic look he gives you, running a hand through your hair quickly.

“Thank you.”

“No,” he chuckles, “thank you.”

“No,” you say back, holding out your hand to Wooyoung, who is beside himself yelling and mock-retching about having to watch that whole display even as he places the cash in your hand, “thank you for paying for our date tonight.”

Hongjoong just shakes his head. “You little devil.”

Seonghwa

The moment your lips hit his cheek, his eyelashes flutter shut in contentment. Time to hold this little bet? Perfect. Seonghwa was already in an extra good mood. You kiss his other cheek, traveling down from your boyfriend’s lovely cheekbone to smooch adjacent to his lips.

He giggles lightly, tilting his head to receive your kisses before he pulls away, angling himself to give you a few of his own. This time, you smile as his lips attack your face, familiar warmth gracing the gentle curve of your skin.

“I have to return the favor, you know,” he whispers before turning his affection to the other side.

“I do know,” you giggle, delivering the killing blow, “you’re so cute. The cutest.”

“Ah, hehe, I-” Seonghwa stammers a bit as you flutter your eyelashes innocently, cheek still angled his way, and with that, his cheeks begin to darken.

"See? That had to have been, like, thirty seconds!"

"Thirty-seven," Mingi corrected, holding his phone out, screen displaying the paused timer facing you.

"That's still under a minute! Now you have to do Seonghwa's laundry!"

"Wait," Seonghwa pouted, "this was just for some sort of bet?"

"Don't be sad," you attempted to soothe him, rubbing your cheek against his as your arms wrapped around Seonghwa's middle, "I enjoyed it and you've won a week's free laundry service."

Chuckling, Seonghwa cocked an eyebrow. "You could have bet anything and you told him to do my laundry?"

"M-hm," you hummed in agreement, "you deserve a break, and I don't think he does enough of that stuff."

He kissed the top of your head. "We really are perfect for each other."

Yunho

"Yunho!" With a running start, you leapt into your boyfriend's arms; he reached out at the last minute to catch you, dropping down a bit with the sudden weight than rising immediately back to a standing position. You wrapped your legs around his torso, leaving him reaching out to hold underneath your thighs.

"What's this about, hm?" He was smiling affectionately at you, giving you that 'I've won the jackpot' look, but no blush.

Dang, you thought the legs bit would get him. Very well. "My big strong man," you cooed, trying to embarrass him.

He chuckled at your words, then tensed as you suddenly planted a big, dramatic kiss on his cheek. He turned his head in response and you obliged, loosening your grip on his back a bit to run your hand up and down the line of his spine. You turn to press your lips to the other side, this time toning down the silliness and taking your sweet time. Finally as you pulled away, he held his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes. You reached up to caress his cheek, smiling surely as wide as he was.

"Alright, alright, you're both blushing. Sheesh."

"What's he talking about?" Yunho asked quietly, gaze not leaving yours despite Jongho's voice behind him.

"You didn't tell him about the bet?" Jongho snickered.

"Didn't need to," you replied, finally tearing your eyes from Yunho's long enough to give Jongho a smug look, patting your boyfriend's warm cheek.

"Ugh, fine, tell me what you guys want next time I'm out."

"What's going on?" Yunho inquired once again.

"I bet him I could make you blush in less than a minute so now we get free coffee!" You replied brightly.

"Well, even if we lost, I'd have felt rewarded."

You giggled both at Yunho's words and Jongho's amused, yet exasperated scoff.

Yeosang

Was working up to it the best strategy? Well, you'd find out, you supposed, your hand reaching up to the table's surface to rest atop Yeosang's. He paused long enough to give a little eye smile, unsuspecting, then returned to getting your afternoon tea poured. When he slid your cup toward you, you tightened your grip on his hand.

"Thank you, Yeosang," you peered at him through your eyelashes before rapidly pecking his cheek. Once again, he smiled, but nothing else, and you hadn't counted the passing time, so escalation seemed necessary. You kissed his cheek again and again.

"Are you trying to distract me?" He asked, tone half cheeky, half legitimately questioning, his eyes narrowing slightly at your little smile.

"I dunno, is it working?" You asked innocently, fingers of the hand that lie on top of his intertwining with his.

He held your hand up, palms pressed together as he played lightly with your fingers, this time taking his turn to lean closer to you. "What are you trying to distract me from, hm-"

You cut him off with a kiss to his lips, which he immediately responded to, hand tightening around yours. As your lips moved in conjunction, you felt warmth pooling against your cheeks, which weren't so cold either. Pulling away, you rubbed your nose against his, taking in his wide, stunning smile.

"Dang, fifty seconds." San and Wooyoung peered down at their phones, the screens of which both displayed variations of fifty seconds and some-odd miliseconds.

"That," you jerked your head toward your duo of friends, belatedly answering Yeosang's question.

Your boyfriend pulled away, a faraway look in his eyes that slowly drifted into faint disgust. "Why were you making them time our kiss?"

"No," you giggle, "they weren't, just seeing if I could make you blush in a minute. Now they have to wear something stupid in the airport next time."

"Well, that more than makes up for it, then," Yeosang says, eyes drifting mischievously toward his besties.

San

"He blushes so easily," Seonghwa whines, "can't we make it thirty seconds?"

"No take backs!" You singsong, waving a dismissive hand at your friend. "You said make Sannie blush in a minute or less and I get to test out my manicure kit on you!"

"Well, at least it wasn't face paint," Seonghwa shrugs in resignation, "nails aren't so bad. As long as you don't do any weird colors."

"No promises," you tease just to get a rise out of him before sneaking into the kitchen where San was standing.

There the object of your affections stood, completely oblivious to the metaphorical target on his back, just filling a glass of water at the sink without a care in the world. Bingo.

You went up behind him, arms sliding around his waist and reaching up so your hands moved toward his chest. Both of you love back hugs, so you felt San melt into the embrace as you hummed contentedly, lips fluttering over his cheek lightly. Lowering his head, he rested it protectively over yours as you kissed him, muttering a "What's this?" and an "I love you" in practically the same breath.

"I love you too, Sannie," you cooed, smiling at his sweet words and the heat you could feel rising to greet your touch.

"Alright, yeah, I'm done for, I can see his ears are all red. What color do you want to do?" Seonghwa interrupted your moment.

"What's he talking about?" San asked as his arms rested over yours.

"Nothing that's important right now," you answered as you settled into him.

Mingi

“Why did we make this bet? We’re going to lose.” Yeosang’s very blunt observation rang through your ears as his head turned away from you and back toward Yunho, arms crossed matter-of-factly.

“In under a minute, though?” Yunho shot back.

“A minute is a long time,” you shot back with a grin.

“See?” Yeosang lamented as you sauntered over to Mingi, who had conveniently just entered the room just as the bet was sealed.

“What’s a minute a long time f- oh. Oh!” Before he could say any more you were on him, attacking his face with kisses. Your hands reached up to caress his cheeks and turn his head to give you access as you made your travels, which your beloved rapper never made a single objection to. In fact, you dared say he encouraged it if the way his one hand snaked onto you to draw circles on your back said anything.

Whether it was your own body heat against his or something of Mingi’s own, you could already feel warmth brewing beneath your lips as he giggled. The sound spurred you on as you kissed his nose, then made your way back down, heading for his lips...

“Ok, pass! Pass, (y/n), he’s already red, jeez!” Yeosang held up his hands, waving in defeat. "I told you this was a stupid bet, Yunho."

The other tall man just shrugged. "At least it's not that much money."

You turned and looked at him with a victorious smirk. “Ok, cool. Glad you think so. Pay up.” Holding out your free hand, you gripped Mingi’s chin with the other, continuing to kiss your boyfriend.

Wooyoung

Honestly, you were a bit uncertain about the whole bet- surely Yeosang had a reason to feel so confident? And Wooyoung was pretty bold, would he blush easily? Maybe not.

No matter what the outcome, you'd signed up to test it, and you couldn't totally complain about that if it meant trying some stuff that might work on Wooyoung. Even in loss you'd have some fun, you reminded yourself.

You found your boyfriend in his room, organizing some stuff on his shelf, and as you said his name his head snapped up instantly. "Darling! Need anything?"

"You," you replied, knowing corny stuff worked pretty well on him. With that, you crossed the room, pulling him into an embrace from the side.

"Well, alright then, good afternoon to you, too," he replied with a grin.

You started kissing down his cheek, which had yet to redden when he turned his head, tapping a finger on the other side in silent request for you to even him out. Chuckling, you leaned in and obliged, covering his whole face in kisses. When you finished, he pointed to his neck, taking full advantage of your purported affectionate mood. Sighing, you kissed down his neck, too, peering upward to see if his ears or cheeks looked red. He just smiled, trailing a finger down his chest.

"Don't push it," you teased, giving him a playful shove. You accidentally caught him off-guard, though, sending him off balance and scrambling, ultimately tumbling back onto his bed.

He looked down as if he didn't know what was beneath him, then back up at you in surprise, eyebrows practically disappearing into his hairline. "Oh?" Now his cheeks were getting red. Why was he like this?

"I- I-" You stuttered, voice failing you in favor of a sigh as your face fell into your hand.

"Ok, that was fifty seconds. I'm sorry for both of us," Yeosang muttered, showing you his timer, handing you some cash, and turning on his heels to leave. "Have fun explaining this one."

Jongho

You slid next to your boyfriend on the couch, bringing a smile to his face at your presence.

"Bored?" He asked as you snuggled closer into his side.

"Hm, a little, but I think I know how we can fix that," you reply, posing with a finger to your chin in mock-thought.

"Oh yeah?" Jongho lifted one arm too give you greater access, draping it casually across your shoulders when you got settled. "How?"

"This is how," you wasted no time in replying, eyes briefly scanning Jongho's lovely, handsome face before closing the remaining space between you two.

You could tell by the way he leaned he expected you to kiss his lips, which you knew he preferred, but your initial goal was a bit different. You kissed his cheek, suppressing laughter as he leaned away slightly, one eyebrow raised in confusion. With just a faint chuckle, you kissed the other cheek.

"What's gotten into you?" That's all he says as you pull away, sure he'd red by now. Not quite, it seems, and you're sure you are from trying not to laugh.

"Where's mine?" You ask, pouting slightly.

"Wh- what are you talking about?" His eyes widened ever-so-slightly, a faint blush finally dusting his cheeks.

"One second," you told him, placing a finger across his lips in a 'shush' gesture as you rose from the couch, leaving him with a furrowed look of confusion as you sat up and peered over the back cushions, "what's my time?"

"I started kinda early."

"Hey!" You complained, grabbing a pillow to threaten Hongjoong with.

Ateez's captain immediately put his hands, one of which held his phone, up in surrender. "But it still came out to fourty-three seconds! You win!"

You lowered the pillow, tucking it back into the corner a few inches from your feet. "Good. Then pay up."

"Alright," Hongjoong reluctantly agreed, his classic impish smile decorating his face, "but only because you two are so cute."

That time, he did get hit with a pillow square in the shoulder, but it was Jongho who threw it.

[asheepinfrance]

patrick blurb because valentines day. its short and hopefully a little sweet. im soso sorry that this isnt longer, i have two other things i can hopefully get out soon but i write everything day of (stupid) and am traveling so took no time out to write (stupider). regardless i hope you enjoy. as always, comments and critiques are welcome.

If there’s one thing Patrick is, at least with you, it’s a horrible liar. The poor man couldn’t get away with fibbing to save his life. Not that being bad at dishonesty is an issue, in fact, it’s quite the opposite, but there have been times where it would’ve been a welcome presence in your relationship. He couldn’t even lie about liking those jeans you’d picked off the rack, even though it was fairly clear you wanted them, despite claiming that you just couldn’t make up your mind on them. 

So, when he calls and says, “Babe… can you believe that they just extended tour?” you decide to humor him just this once. For one, the excuse was a weak one, and made little to no sense if you thought about it for more than a second or two, but you could just hear the smug ass grin he was wearing. He thinks he’s a genius.

You feign a sigh, twirling the drawstring of your hoodie around your pointer finger before placing it in the seam of your lips. You mumble something about ‘Oh, baby, that’s just terrible’ because, frankly, he’s not the type to care about your less than convincing acting job as long as he’s getting the reaction he wants in general. He’s complaining about needing to book a new hotel, something that he’s actually willing to pay for himself, when he barges into your room and manages to nearly scare you off your bed. He’s got that same stupid grin on his face that you’d previously imagined, now holding his arms wide as if to present himself to you. “This’ll do.”

You’re taking too long to process for his liking, because he drops his bags with a heavy thud, completely uncaring for the equipment stored inside, and makes his way towards you. You can’t manage anything, not the ‘How did you get in here?’ that you should definitely concern yourself with, just a soft murmur of “Patrick…” before throwing yourself at him as hard as you can manage to. He’s strong, noticeably stronger since the last time you saw him about three months ago, and manages to catch your weight with such ease it hardly looks like you weigh a thing. 

The past few days had been hard, as he’d let you know through several hours-long phone calls, but god, if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes. The way his smile softens says it all, and he’s just breathing in your presence, your scent, the hints of perfume lingering on the fabric of your hoodie. He’s right at home with it. He knows that when the moment’s through, and the shock’s worn off, you’ll be ashamed by your choice of outfit, your lack of makeup, the mess of hair on your head. He thinks it’s the most beautiful he’s ever seen you, and he didn’t think you could get better than perfection, but here he is, pressed against it. 

He’s got to be uncomfortable, kneeling at your bedside this long, but he can put that aside for now. Right now, he’s with his girl for the first time in the longest three months of his life and he’s not letting go, knees be damned. He presses a few kisses wherever he can manage to reach, and the laugh you let out when you feel his lips just above yours is enough to send him reeling. It sounds so much clearer here than over the phone. He’d thought you were radiant then, even through a screen, but now? Now he’s just about certain you’re made of more light than each star combined. He’d tell you that if he could, but with his habit of saying things just slightly less eloquently than he means to, he opts for just saying “I missed you”.

You know him. Know he means a lot more than he can properly express with his way of speaking. He’s got a lot of ways of showing it, at least. Falling asleep next to a propped up phone, listening to his breathing grow slower, steadier. Finding little notes from month-old visits in odd corners of your room, scrawled in his signature chicken-scratch only you can manage to decode. The way he holds you like you’re fragile and looks at you like too much exposure to his presence could damage you, despite it doing just the opposite, tells you what you needs to know. He means he loves you.

You breathe out a laugh, one that your shoulders raise with.

“Yeah… missed you, too.”

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Can you write fuego with a pregnant wife?

Hi!

I thought that I had done quite a few of them, but... apparently not ^^' Admittedly I took some inspo from my own long fic (aka Embers -series) for this, and basically used a scene as a basis. Anyways, hopefully you like it ^^

Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader Genre: Romance/fluff Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~0.9k Contains: pregnant reader, marriage mention, Fue gets kicked by the baby in the face, a lot of fluffy feels

Fuegoleon had always deemed himself to be a family man. Granted that he has other aspirations as well, and hadn’t had a partner for such a long time, which was why such a status and aspect of his life had been placed on the backburner for the time being.

Not that it had particularly stopped thinking about the future, and the family he might like to have. A wife. Kids. Maybe a few. One was too few for his liking, but he wouldn’t push for more if his partner so wished.

It was a personal preference if nothing else.

But. It had existed in a daydream for a time longer than he could tell.

Until he had met you.

Not that the images had flashed through his mind clear as day from the very first moment he had laid his eyes upon you, but rather… it was like a gentle, comforting sensation. The knowledge that this… this would be it. With you he could go on to build something.

What he had felt, was a kind of familiarity. Like this was how it was supposed to be, and nothing less would suffice.

A part of him wanted to rush. To just move together. Get married. And have the titles of husband and wife. But another part of him held back. Because that seemed more courteous. Something that one does. Bids their time and takes slow, tentative steps to the ever after. Not marry the woman he met less than a year ago.

Though people did do that.

But people, aside of royalty, were more free to make such actions. And he didn’t wish to place such scrutiny onto the two of you. Because it would just be unwanted attention. Rumours of a bastard child possibly.

Senseless gossip.

Attempts to tarnish a reputation.

No matter how displeased even the mere idea of it made him, he chose to abide the customs. Little steps. One by one. And yet with each day he tried to show his devotion, even if with words, scattered here and there, a passing touch, lingering gaze. Some if which came without a thought, because it, too, was easy; as natural as breathing.

And now…

As you sat there, in the arm chair with rings in your ring finger, and a baby bump on your tummy, he couldn’t help but smile.

Because it was his whole world that existed in that chair. And he made a point to cherish the moments where he could know, with absolute certainty, where the two of you were; away from harm and trouble. In the sanctity of your shared living quarters.

“Come here,” you told him with a whisper while stroking your stomach.

He perked up, eyes opening just a little wider, as he made his way across the room and crouched by your chair.

“The baby is kicking,” your tone was hushed, delicate and tender, as if you were speaking out a secret that was only for the two of you to know.

His eyes shifted between your expression, gorgeous and loving like the first rays of dawn, to the little bump in which your precious child resided.

He placed his hand onto your stomach, and waited.

Waited for a moment longer, eyes attentive and curious.

“Come on,” you cooed. “No need to be shy, kick some for dad too.”

‘Dad’… he thought as the corners of his lips tugged further up.

One of the most esteemed titles he could be granted.

“Come on,” you encouraged again, as if your child could hear. But… somehow it didn’t seem to make a difference, if they could, or could not. After all, they didn’t have the language to comprehend for a good while still. So, you were speaking because… speaking to your own child was one of the most natural things to do.

Your precious miracle.

“It’s alright,” he chuckled and pressed his cheek against your tummy. “You are far better acquainted with your mother,” he mused while closing his eyes. “But I can’t wait to meet you to-“

*Bump*

A kick right to his nose.

He jolted back.

You raised your hand to cover your mouth.

“Feisty,” he said while holding onto his nose. “And packs a punch already.”

There was a laugh that flowed from your lungs; equally amused and concerned.

“Are you okay?” You asked while placing your hand onto his shoulder.

“I am,” he chuckled before placing his cheek against your stomach again. “It seems we’re having a true Vermillion here,” he mused to himself with a wide smile again. “But no kicking or punching your mother,” he told, sternly, to your bump and the child. “Understood?” He quirked an eyebrow.

And… almost as if to reply, there was another kick, but this time against his hand. A much softer one this time.

“Good,” he smiled while closing his eyes.

You placed your hand onto his head, and let your fingers stroke through his silken hair, as your eyelids closed half way at the tender sight before you.

Because this… this really was him, at his happiest. While holding you, and being held by you; when he was with his family.

[gyaruhana]

oh my goodness I think I just turned into the happiest sapphic ever 😝😝 thank you so much for accepting my weird love for player 044 but anywho once you have time and feel like it I desperately need you to write hc's about her w a easily manipulated reader who believes in everything player 044 says and is sooo blindly in love and how a relationship would basically be with my sexy evil old powerful shaman wife 😼

also may I be ' 🐘' anon ? 🙂‍↕️

Seon-nyeo/Player 044 - easily manipulated!reader headcannons

Synopsis: Seon-nyeo with an easily manipulated reader..

A/N: first time writing for this character.. hopefully i serve her right !! also, yes you can be 🐘anon!

Warnings: manipulation, NOT PROOFREAD..

➠ To you, Seon-Nyeo was your savior.

➠ Someone who could protect during these deadly games and you may have immediately started relying on her..

➠ Seon-Nyeo was very much on board with how easily you trust her and didn't waste a second to keep you by her side along with the other few that followed her around

➠ she's ALWAYS saying that it's your fate to stay as her ally and that, if you don't, you'll die here

➠ She's honestly a little surprised by how quickly you just trust her and blindly follow her

➠ (and a little bit concerned)

➠ However, she doesn't let that stop her lies and manipulation because she needs sacrificial pawns for her survival !!

➠ At first, you were more of a pawn that she thought she'd sacrifice if it came down to it but.. she may have changed her mind quite quickly

➠ Especially since you keep trying to give your life away for her and you've barely known her for long

➠ Because of your total trust in her and your willingness to die for her survival, she totally does fall in love with you

➠ Her love might also be because you were actually genuinely nice to her unlike some of the other players. You weren't just pretending to be nice for the sake of appeasing the gods and she liked that a lot.

➠ when she does fall in love with you, she gets more manipulative but, this time, it's to protect you from other players

➠ she knew very well that some of the other players had gladly sacrificed their allies or strangers and she didn't like the idea of that happening to you

she actually isn't really one to fall in love so falling in love with you was something she didn't want to let go of

➠ She's always keeping you by her side from then on and frequently begs the gods above to not let anything happen to you

➠ Every morning, before a new game, she'll immediately tell you the gods blessed the two of you with good luck today so you'll be less nervous about the game you play that day

➠ Also, always partners with you during group games (thank god season 2 didn't have the marble game)

➠ Whenever she's sitting on that one bed above everyone else when the players are voting, most of the time she's looking at you.

➠ Usually you notice her quite quickly and give her a wave which she will return with a smile

➠ If you actually make the decision to not continue the games despite what she tells you, she may be slightly upset about it tbh..

➠ She'll go to you immediately and talk to you about your decision

➠ If it was pure fear that drove your decision to discontinuing the games, she will promise to keep you safe and mention that the gods have promised nothing but fortune for you

➠ She knows she can't really guarantee that and that its a white lie but she really doesn't want the games to end in case she can't find you again

➠ On that note, it does make her a little possessive.

➠ If anyone gets too close to you, she'll slowly walk over and look at who's chatting to you up and down before smirking as if she knows something they don't

➠ She basically stares at them until they leave i'm not gonna lie

➠ Off topic but i could honestly see her wanting to wear some sort of matching jewelry..

➠ like a bracelet or a necklace..

➠ Anyway, back to what I was saying -

➠ she honestly gets jealous easily but she doesn't lash out or anything

➠ like she's not the kind of person to drag you away randomly or do some sort of public display of affection

➠ her aura just scares the person away

➠ I'd also say she doesn't do a lot of PDA

➠ Not because she doesn't like it, she just doesn't do it much

➠ If you ask for it though, then she gladly will.

➠ Overall, manipulative but for the right reasons when you're dating

"Good morning," Seon-Nyeo speaks as she's crouched next to your bed, watching you slowly stretch and come to life. You had gotten used to seeing her by your bedside, smiling at you as she waited for you to finally wake up. It was a wonder how she always woke up before the music blared over the speakers. Her eyes watched you carefully as you sat up and she quickly made herself comfortable on your bed - sitting with her legs crossed. She always enjoyed watching you sleep peacefully. Just like she enjoyed watching your face light up when she told a slight white lie about luck being on your side today. Sure, lying was bad but if it made you more confident, she'd lie a million times. She was glad you trusted her so much. It made her feel rather.. good inside. Once you seemed more awake, she smiled and looked at you directly in the eyes. "The gods have once again promised nothing but good fortune for today so there's no need to worry,"

[discordantwritings]

Captain’s Orders (Buggy x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, angst, Buggy is bad at feelings, canon typical violence, oral, PiV sex, creampie

WC: 8.4k

Summary: Getting a job as the chronicler of the Buggy pirates was the best, then worst, then best thing that ever happened to you.

Notes: The second I realized I hadn’t done a solo buggy fic I wrote this I’m so sorry buggy

No one tells you how hard it is to keep a job on a pirate ship. Unless you manage to land with a big name captain the chances your job sinks to the bottom of the sea is pretty high. Which is what happened to your last three jobs- you were so tired of ending up on a dingy paddling away from a lost battle that you had no say in. You were a chronicler after all- not exactly a fighting pirate.

Despite being a non-essential crew member a chronicler was a sought after person. Every pirate thinks they are going to be the one to find the One Piece so, naturally, every pirate needs to have someone to log their journey to becoming king of the pirates. It was a little tiring, hearing the same story over and over again, writing the same few chapters only to end up waterlogged and searching for a new ship at the end.

But you needed to eat and you could only afford to live at this tavern for so long. You’d posted your services on the local board, listing your name and where you were staying in hopes of drawing in a pirate captain. One that hopefully won’t be going under in less than a month. And if you were really lucky- one that wasn’t so painfully textbook.

Really you should have known the gods were going to get you for wishing that.

When the clowns first walk into the tavern you wonder if you missed some signage that a carnival was coming into town. But when a distinctly dressed blue haired pirate captain walks in behind them- you put it all together. The Buggy Pirates were docked here. Their chronicler probably had their hands full but at least it wasn’t the same boring-

You notice when the barkeep points Buggy the Clown in your direction. The two of you make eye contact across the room and you quickly run through your memory to try and figure out what you could have possibly done to be hunted down by a big name pirate. As his heavy boots thud against the wooden floors you can’t think of a single time you’ve even brushed shoulders with any clowns let alone pirate ones. As Buggy looms over your table you frantically try and think of a way out of whatever sorry situation you’ve accidentally gotten yourself into only for that hurried train of thought to be abruptly derailed.

“You the chronicler who has that ad posted?”

It takes you probably too long to respond with a squeaky- “Yes?”

“Great!” The clown takes the chair next to you and sits down, quickly putting his feet up on the table. “Do you have examples of a resume or whatever?”

“You don’t already have a chronicler?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying more stupid things.

“Nope.” He shrugs and you see the rest of his crew settle in around the tavern.

“Oh. Well-“ You reach off to your side and take out a leather bound journal that has some of your work plastered in it. “Here’s some snippets.”

As you hand it over to Buggy you feel as his sea green eyes rake over you for a few moments before he finally takes the book. He flips to the first page, looks at it for maybe all of two seconds before snapping it shut. “How would you write about me?”

Then why did he even- “Well I think- see people sometimes assume a chronicler only writes down the basic facts are events but I think a real chronicler tells a story that the average person didn’t get to see or hear about. For example a lot of people heard about the Straw Hats taking you out at Orange Town-“

He sits up a bit, gaze hardening but you quickly continue. “But- I think there’s a different story there! They fought the fishmen so soon after your encounter with them and it’s no secret that the Arlong Crew was pushing their luck in the East Blue. So the story there should really be about how you used your genius to let the Straw Hats go and sent the Arlong Crew after them- letting your opponents fight it out and weaken each other.”

There’s a long pause where you feel the clown practically searing holes into your skin with his gaze until he finally breaks into a smile that rivals the one painted on his face. “That’s exactly it! You get it! People just need to hear the right side of the story! Start writing that down. That'll be your first entry as our chronicler.”

That is probably the most presumptuous way you’ve ever been offered a job but you certainly were not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Great!”

It’s only after Buggy then orders a round of drinks in celebration and the cheering begins that you realize something.

“I don’t have to wear a clown costume do I?”

You didn’t have to wear a clown costume but already in the few weeks you’ve been a member of the Buggy Pirates your wardrobe had gotten more colorful. A sequin scarf here- a bright blue shirt there- these things just landed in your bunk and it did help you fit in. You minded it less than you thought you would, being in a crew that actually put thought into how they looked was a pleasant change.

You tied a striped sash around your waist over your pants as you prepared to have your nightly debriefing with your new captain. During the day you flitted about the ship, taking notes on everything that happens. Every night though Buggy always wanted a check in. From letting him know what happened while he was doing other duties, to telling you some previous journeys that he and his crew had been, to embellishing the stories of the day.

It was nice having a captain who actually cared about what you were writing. Most had just left you to your own devices and didn’t much care for your craft beyond the fact it made them look good. But Buggy actually wants to listen to your words and he provides some actual good feedback (admittedly in a sea of crazy unbelievable ideas, but the point still stands).

Journals and pens tucked under your arms you navigate to the captain’s quarters, finally feeling comfortable navigating the large ship after walking this route twice a day. It’s not that long before you’re knocking on the large door and hear Buggy’s voice, muffled through the wood.

“C’mon in.”

You push through the door and see Buggy behind his desk, face laying sideways on a pile of paper. You take a seat across from him.

“You alright?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Being a captain is not all fun and games my dearest chronicler.” He pushes back on the desk, flopping back in his large seat and swinging his feet up on the desk, knocking over the papers in the process. “Responsibility is a heavy burden to bear.”

You look over the mounds of untouched paper work that have been sitting there since you first arrived. “Seems like it.”

“But now you are here to save me. Tell me my story weaver- what is the tale of the day.” When he looks at you you know you have his undivided attention. There was something so fulfilling about capturing his attention, something you’ve learned is so finicky and flighty. But for you? He’s never been distracted.

“Well, it’s been a pretty standard day.” You go into every detail that matters- what acts were practiced, who's flirting with who, what crew member Richie managed to bite a finger off of- that kind of stuff.

“You know- we should have a whole section where we track body parts Richie has eaten and see how many full people can be put together with the parts.” Buggy adds as you finish up your recap and you huff a laugh as you write that down.

“I think we’ll have a lot of spare fingers.” You point out.

“Good point. Full bodies and hands.” Slightly more sensible… kind of.

“Got it. I’ll start logging and asking around for people who have lost limbs to Richie.” You make the note and you see out of the edges of your vision as Buggy’s legs come off the desk and he leans over, getting a bit closer to you.

“Y’know I’ve told you many stories already- what about you?” His head settles in his hands, perched up by his elbows.

“What do you mean what about me?” You tilt your head, genuinely confused.

“Your stories! You said you were the chronicler for a few ships before mine, you must have had some adventures out on the great wide East Blue.”

“Ah, well… no.” You admit a bit awkwardly.

“No?” Buggy raises his eyebrows, clearly looking for more.

“I was just a chronicler. I didn't really do anything on the previous ships I worked on. Hell, you’re the first captain who actually wants to hear about what I’m writing. For everyone else it was just an ego trip to have someone writing for them…” Your pen slips into your journal as a placeholder as you close it and pull it close to your lap.

“That’s…” Buggy frowns. “What losers! Most pirates won’t know talent if it slaps them in the face.”

You try to bite back your smile but it’s pretty ineffective. “You’re very kind captain.”

“You’re going to have to learn to take some compliments because with my crew? We are going all the way to the top and your stories of our journeys are going to be known across all four seas!” As he talked he stood up, wildly gesturing as he talked about his grand plan.

When other captains of yours had talked about getting the One Piece it had always annoyed you for some reason. The hunt for fame and money was… well it was cliche. But there was something about the earnestness that Buggy talked with- the grand scale he always thought on that made you believe it.

“Well, I guess I will have to work on that.” You say as you look up at him.

“Yes. Captain’s orders.” He hops up to sit on his desk just adjacent to you. His right foot lightly knocks against the side of your left calf.

“Then I’ll have to do it.” You smile wide, his energy was infectious.

“But seriously, not a single story? There has to be one fun thing you can tell me.”

“I guess… there was this one time-“

You break into a small, stupid story but Buggy hangs on your every word. The second you’re done he shares a similar experience and you go back and forth like this for hours, journal where you were supposed to write these things down long forgotten. Somewhere along the way you both ended up sitting on the floor, leaned up against the desk and legs side by side as you both gesture wildly through your stories. You don’t know how long this goes on, but when you feel yourself fighting to open your eyes after you blink you think it might be way late.

“I should get to bed.” You nudge Buggy’s shoulder with your own, working up the strength to stand up.

“Oh yeah it’s like-“ His hand detaches and he grabs something off his desk before bringing it down to his face. “Oh shit- 3 already?”

“Wow-“ You look at the clock he grabbed and sure enough, 3:21 am. “Yeah I really need to get to bed. You too, captain.”

You get up with a grunt of effort and once you’re standing you turn around and offer up your hand to help Buggy up. There’s an awkward pause as he looks up at you and he must be just as tired as you are with how long it takes for him to clasp his hand in yours and pull himself up.

“See you tomorrow night captain.” You squeeze his hand before letting go and walking out the door.

You’re not sure why you feel a low buzz in your body, nerves up from some unknown source. It’s not a gnawing anxiety… something else you can’t place. No matter what the second your head hits the pillow you’re out like a light, body getting ready for another long day.

The Buggy Clowns were weirdly affectionate. Not all of them, mind you, you don’t think you’ll ever get Cabaji to even smile at you, but the camaraderie they have is intimate. Most of the time not in a sexual way (though you’d be remiss to ignore the raunchier performers in the circus), but in friendliness and touchiness. Never before have you been on such an affectionate crew.

Every time you put more than 10 seconds into your appearance you got hoots and hollers from most of the crew members. When you grab lunch in the mess people fight over who gets to sit with you and be documented. Even Richie has a soft side- you’ve managed to pet him without adding a body part to the now running list.

It’s been a few months now and they still fight over you at meals- a quirk you would have thought would die out long ago. Everyone is eager to tell you about their day and try and loop you into spending the rest of the day with them. Today the tightrope walkers win out- or at least they think so. Secretly you’ve made a schedule for when you follow each group and no one has caught onto your pattern yet. But it makes it easy for you and makes it so no one is favored.

But when they cheer and lean into you, arms wrapped around your shoulders you still feel like shrinking away in embarrassment. It’s not bad- you can’t deny the little ego boost it gives you- but there’s something that always makes your face burn. But all that is nothing compared to Buggy.

You quickly figure out that, like all crew attitudes, it trickles down from the top.

Of course Buggy isn’t going around hugging crew members (when he’s sober) and he does lose his temper often, but there’s also a softness to him. He’s got nicknames for everyone, and everyone gets their time in the spotlight. He personally reviews all the circus acts and when someone wants to do something new it’s rare he says no.

Everyone in the crew is a misfit, but because of that, no one is. A group of people who have never felt respected or wanted before suddenly find themselves belonging- it makes sense why everyone was surprisingly warm. But you still have a hard time handling it, especially when it comes to Buggy.

It’s the damn nicknames.

Story weaver, dearest chronicler, writing star. And the worst part? It’s always his.

My story weaver.

My star.

Never in a tone that makes you feel owned or degraded- quite the opposite really. You’re treasured, respected, seen. It’s been too long since you felt that way and the reblooming of those emotions was… uncomfortable.

But you don’t think you’d ever want it to stop.

“My lovely chronicler-“ It’s Buggy who suddenly throws you out of your thoughts with affection and a hand on your shoulder. “I have to cancel our meeting tonight.”

“What? Why?” You want to kick yourself for sounding even slightly hurt.

“Not your fault- turns out I’m a few days behind on planning out supply orders for when we dock tomorrow.” By a few days you know he means he hasn’t thought about supplies since they last docked.

“Oh, well, do you need help?” The second you finish your sentence you feel a light elbow in your side from one of the tightrope walkers but before you can turn to look at him your attention is grabbed by a clap from Buggy.

“Great! See you tonight!” He says, already walking away.

You turn to the source of the elbow. “What was that for?”

“I’m sorry, you totally just got suckered into doing all his paper work.” He says apologetically.

“Yeah, he’s done this with just about every crew member. You’re the only one who doesn’t know his trick.” Another one explains.

“Well, he is the captain, he could just make one of us do it.” You say, still very confused about this whole situation.

“Yeah, but then he has to admit that he messed up and needs someone else to do his work. This way he is just, I don’t know, reveling in his crew’s generosity.” Yeah, that sounds like him.

“I’m not going to get any sleep tonight am I.”

“Nope.” You get a few reassuring pats on the back as you slump onto the table.

“Captain?” Later in the day you knock on his door and come in at his usual ‘come in’.

You walk in and see papers everywhere. There’s no organization, no sense that he’s actually began to work on anything, just papers on almost every flat surface you can see. You don’t think half of these are relevant to what needs to be done.

“My darling most beloved star.” Buggy calls from behind his desk. He’s laying it on thick so you don’t run away.

“Did one of your bombs explode in here?” You carefully walk over to his desk, hopping over random papers on your way.

“Yes?” It’s obvious he’s lying.

“Well… I guess we have our work cut out for us.” You make it across from him and start looking at papers, trying to find some sense.

“Yes. I trust you implicitly- now I’m just going to go-“ He stands up and you glare at him.

“You’re not going anywhere.” You’re a little annoyed, but there’s no real malice in your words. Despite that, Buggy still shrinks back.

“But you’ve got this.” He says, confidence quickly draining from his voice.

“It would go a lot faster if we work together. Come on. We will start by organizing. Figure out what actually needs to be done for tomorrow and go from there.” You gesture to the mess on his desk before you get to work on the papers discarded on the floor.

“But-“

“No.” You cut him off without even looking at him- you know he’s using his puppy dog eyes.

“Fine.” He grumbles and you hear the shift of papers that tells you he’s at least pretending to do something.

It takes you hours to get everything sorted but after that the actual work doesn’t take that long. You have a pretty good knowledge of what supplies everyone needs and the average use of those supplies in a day- you write it all down typically. All in all you’re done and dusted just before midnight, an accomplishment really.

Buggy is moping at his desk, the reward of a job well done isn’t really enough for him after he actually had to put in some effort. You’ve set up a schedule for him too- something he’ll probably ignore but you’re pretty hopeful.

“That’s it right?” His voice is partially muffled by his face being smooshed down into the wood of his desk.

“Yes, we are all done for the night.” You reply, straightening out the last stack of files on his desk.

“Yay.” His voice is flat and devoid of all joy.

“You’re pretty childish for a captain, you know that?” You take a seat across the desk, not quite ready to leave.

“That’s part of my charm darling.” He lifts his face so his chin is resting on the desk.

Darling.

That was a new one.

“It’s not your best feature but I guess it is a part of your whole deal.” You admit, still trying to shake off the weird stirring of emotions from the new pet name.

He perks up instantly, sitting up in his chair. “What’s my best feature?”

“Hm?”

“You said it’s not my best feature, which implies you know my best feature. What is it?” His smile is wide, matching his face paint.

“Ah-“ Well. You know exactly what his best feature is but you hesitate to say. It’s not what a pirate captain typically wants to hear but… well he’s anything but typical.

“I think your best feature is that you care. Genuinely. You yell and stomp around at the crew but you always make sure all of our needs are met. To some people finding the One Piece is just the thing pirates do but you care with every fiber of your being. When you want to do something, really want to do it, you throw yourself into it for better or for worse. Your risks end up paying off more often than not and I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

There’s an awkward pause where Buggy’s smile drops a bit and he stares at you and you think that you’ve fucked up. He is still a pirate captain with an ego and not telling him that his strength or intellect was his best feature was a dumb mistake. But then he coughs, a fake awkward cough and you’re not sure what’s going on.

“Oh that’s- yeah- I mean what am I if not the best captain to work for in all of the seas.” The smile returns to his face but there’s something you can’t place and you feel like you’ve misstepped.

“It’s late- I should go-“ You stand up and quickly head to the door but Buggy’s voice stops you right before you exit.

“Hey-“ You turn and look at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” There’s more hovering in the space between you but none of it can be put into words.

You leave.

Even if the Buggy pirates were worlds different from any other crew you had worked with they still party like every other pirate crew after a victory. Just a little more explosive. Literally.

You had never seen fireworks before so you were laying down on an upper deck while the loud party raged a few decks down, reveling in the bright and colorful explosions that shattered across the sky. You know Buggy made them all himself, he was surprisingly talented in pyrotechnics. It was overwhelming to your senses in the way that Buggy often was-

You’ve found yourself thinking more and more about him recently. You don’t want to think about what that means so you just shove those things down and focus on the shimmering colors dancing around the sky.

Until, of course, your captain finds you.

“My star! We are all missing our chronicler at the party!” His head peaks up over the ladder as he calls to you but you wave a dismissive hand.

“I’m just enjoying the fireworks, I’ll be down later.” You say, perched up on your elbows.

Buggy pulls himself all the way up the ladder before walking over and taking a seat next to you. “I’m glad someone is enjoying all my hard work.”

“I’d never seen fireworks before tonight.” You admit, laying back down fully.

“Really? Well I’m glad I could introduce you.” He lays down as well, only a few inches separating you two as you both lay flat on your backs.

“It’s- I mean I have no idea how you do it. It’s seriously magic.” You turn your head to look at him, admiring the profile of his face under the multicolored lights of the fireworks.

“It’s all chemicals and patience. I know, surprising that I have that.” He looks at you, a sly smile on his face.

“There really is nothing our fearless captain can’t do when he puts his mind to it.” You half joke, nudging his arm with your elbow. “But really- how do you get all those different colors?”

“Well-“

As the different fireworks explode in the sky he tells you the different chemicals he used to get the respective colors and effects. Somewhere in the explanations and pointing he’s right next to you, arms and thighs pressed together. You can’t help but lean into his warmth against the cool wind of the sea.

“I guess there will have to be a chapter on fireworks in your chronicle.” You say after the fireworks slowly die out, all of them used up by now.

“You can just slide that chapter in when things get too boring. Wake readers up with an explosion!” His hand gestures over both of your bodies.

“I’m not sure there will be any time where your story will be too boring. I’m pretty sure just by being a clown pirate you’re always interesting.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Buggy turn his face towards yours. In turn you move your face as well, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face.

He’s really quite beautiful in the moonlight.

“Do you really think that?” He asks, so quiet you almost don’t hear him over the low drone of the party below.

“Of course.” You answer automatically.

“I uh-“ You see a panic set over his face and you wonder if you’ve done something wrong. He sits up and you sit up in turn, confusion on your face.

“I should get back down to the party. It’s been-“ He stands up and practically trips over his own feet. “Nice.”

You watch him quickly descend the ladder and you’re suddenly very aware of how cold it is out on the deck at night.

You’re not sure what you did, but you messed something up.

You stop having your nightly meetings. It’s once a week now and he blames it on the recent partnership with Alvida and her crew but you know there’s something else. You got too comfortable with your captain and distance had to be created. You were disrespectful and you needed to learn your place.

You weren’t his anymore.

Chronicler, sure. Star, sometimes. You almost despised when he used your actual name. The burning feeling of being discarded weighs in your chest every time you see him.

It was only after how painful and hard you took the slightest bit of rejection that you realized you might have feelings for your captain. Stupid inappropriate feelings. You hadn’t put the label on it before, pushing any feelings down into the pit of your gut but with how quickly they turned sour you couldn’t help but feel them rise up and burn your throat.

Stupid how you realize these things too late.

Because now there’s a new crew, a new partnership, and plenty of shiny new objects for Buggy to be enamored with. None of them you.

You still did your job through- dutifully chronicling each day. Your emotions will pass and this job is still far and away the best you’ve ever landed. You won’t throw it away over a stupid unrequited crush.

It’ll pass.

Someday.

But today isn’t that day as a pang rings through your chest as you see Buggy loop an arm around Alvida’s shoulder and pull her in close. You know there’s nothing going on between the two of them (you’re fairly confident Alvida doesn’t swing that way) but seeing him pay attention to someone else the way he paid attention to you-

You sounded like a child didn’t you.

You were just about to excuse yourself from the area when Buggy spots you and calls you over with a quick shout of your title. Taking a deep breath you steel yourself and put on a smile before walking over.

“Yes captain?” You say, overly formal as you hold your journal close.

“I was thinking maybe you could do a few weeks with the Alvida pirates, you know, get a better look at their side of things! Wrap them into the story of the Genius Jester!” He gestured grandly with his free hand.

“Oh, well, if that’s okay with captain Alvida…” You look towards the dark haired woman who shrugs.

“I’ve never had a chronicler before so I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing what it’s all about.”

“Great! Our perfect partnership continues!” Buggy looks at you. “How’s a month sound?”

A month. He wants to get rid of you for a whole month. You swallow down your emotions. “When have I ever not followed my captain’s orders?”

“You are a loyal crew member. And it’s not like you aren’t going to see all of your crew mates! It’s just shifting focus for a bit.” It’s true, both crews frequently overlap ships but you know you’re going to be glued to that gaudy pink ship (not that the ship you were currently on wasn’t gaudy, just a different kind).

“Fine by me captain.” You say, making your voice as cheerful as possible.

“Great.”

“Good.”

There’s a long pause where the two of you are just standing there, Alvida casting glances to both of you.

“Well if that’s all I’ll go pack some of my things for my stay.” You say, already taking a step backwards.

“Yes, good idea! Always taking initiative!” He waves goodbye and you turn around as fast as possible, walking at a brisk pace when you really want to run.

Working with Alvida wasn’t bad at all. You checked in with her once a week and she was pretty receptive to your work, provided you added in a lot of extra pages about how beautiful she was. At first it was annoying, but once you got used to it she was surprisingly nice to you.

You were two weeks into your month with her and she was already asking you about how to hire her own chronicler. It was rewarding to know that you’ve done a good enough job so far that she would seek out someone like you. You were working hard, trying to shift your focus from your emotions into something more productive.

It didn’t work.

Every day you found yourself looking around the decks hoping to catch a glimpse of your captain visiting. He was never there.

You saw plenty of your other crew mates- both crews frequented both ships as you sailed together. It was nice having that familiarity, but the reminder that you were specifically sent away while they got to go back to their ship every night stung.

“Ah, chronicler.” Alvida’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, having zoned out while recording what the meals were for the day in the kitchen.

“Hello Alvida, was there something you needed?” Your finger slipped into your journal as a placeholder as you turned your attention to her.

“Yes. I just finished discussing some business with Buggy and your good work came up.” You couldn’t help but puff up a bit- You did want him to know you were still exceeding at your job. “And then he made me an offer that I’d like to extend to you. He said if I wanted you full time I had his permission, so. Would you like to be my chronicler?”

There’s a full 30 seconds that you have to take to process the words that were said to you and come up with a response that doesn’t sound like your heart just got shattered into a million pieces.

“Oh wow, that’s quite the offer I- uh-“ Your mind is struggling to work under the weight of your emotions and Alvida catches on that you’re overwhelmed.

“It’s a big change so you can take some time to think about it. Just come to me when you have your answer.” She gives you a curt nod before heading off, leaving you with your spiraling thoughts.

You manage to hold back your tears until you’re at you bunk, burying your face in your pillow to catch your flow of tears. There was something so painful about being shipped off to someone else, being so unwanted he couldn’t stand to work with you anymore. You’re not even sure what you did wrong which might be the most frustrating part.

If you could lead this all back to one action you took maybe you could make it better- maybe you could go back.

But you didn’t.

You know when you’re not wanted.

Later that day you knock on Alvida’s door and accept her offer. All your stuff is already on her ship so you don’t ever have to step foot on Buggy’s ship ever again.

It’s easier that way.

A month has gone by of officially being the chronicler of the Alvida pirates. It’s… fine. Painfully fine. Perfectly average.

You stop wearing bright colors, swapped out for the pinks and reds that cover the ship. You still keep your old clothes, tucked away in a box that also has the journal you used to chronicle your time the the Buggy pirates. The sequins and stripes keep it safe and far away from you, letting you pull back at the last second before you obsessively repour over the pages to find where you went wrong.

You were getting better.

You stopped crying every night, you stopped longing looking over the bow at Buggy’s ship, you stopped searching for him whenever your old crew came over.

The lingering feelings will pass soon, and you eagerly count down the days until your heart patches itself up and moves on.

It was easy to ignore your emotions during a storm. All your energy focused on locking up your stuff and going where you were needed- you were a chronicler but all hands on deck meant all hands.

It was a nasty storm- lighting and high waves bashing against the hull repeatedly and ruthlessly. You were down below deck, sent on your own to grab emergency medical supplies from deep storage, two crew members had already broken bones and there were probably going to be countless other injuries before the storm let up. Boxes shoved in your arms you were making your way back up to the medical bay when you heard it- the sound you never want to hear below deck.

The sound of wood breaking.

You hear the hit of a strong wave before the groaning of wood and then that dreaded sound. You only have a second to process it before you hear the flood of seawater rushing in. Dropping the boxes you quickly jump to the ladder, scrambling up as you hear water flooding in behind you.

You make it up the ladder and halfway to the next one before the next wave hits. Your world jolts under you and you’re flung to the floor and the back of your head hits the deck- hard.

Your vision swims as you feel sea water rushing over your body and you push yourself up, ignoring the nausea overwhelming your senses. You crawl to the ladder, water threatening to grab and pull you under. Grasping the rung of the ladder you try to pull yourself up before your realize just how hurt you must be.

The pain, the blurry vision, you barely have control over your body. There’s no way you can pull yourself up the ladder. The sea was going to take you and you didn’t have the senses about you to swim. It was over.

You hang your head, watching the water swell up around your body as you wonder if all your works will go missing to the sea. Maybe there will be nothing left of you. Or maybe someone will find your journal- just dry enough that the words haven’t dissolved and run together. Maybe someone will remember you.

Somewhere in the distance someone shouts your name.

You’re confident it’s your addled mind playing tricks on you until it’s louder and right above you- loud and frantic. You look upwards and see Buggy, rain soaked and panicked.

Now you’re really confident you’re seeing things.

“Grab my hand!” He lays down on the deck above you and extends his hand and everything becomes real painfully fast.

“Get out of here! The water- You can’t-“ You yell out, head throbbing.

“I said grab my hand! Captain’s orders!” He shouts and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so serious.

Gathering up all the strength in your body you pull yourself up a few rungs until you can reach out and grab his hand, quickly being violently pulled up the rest of the way.

“Can you walk?” He asks, yanking you up to your feet. You fall into his body, answering his question for him. “Alright.”

Suddenly one of his arms is under your knees and the other is around your shoulders and you’re being carried, your vision obscured by Buggy’s clothes. It’s better that way, you think hazily, to see him and not your death waiting to swallow you up. Maybe it’s a trick your mind is playing and you’re down in that lower deck, knocked out and drowning. But as you curl up against him and your thoughts fade to nothingness it’s a trick you’re willing to accept.

If your last thoughts are of him it’s not a bad way to go.

You wake up with a start- jolting up in bed before realizing how much that sudden action hurts. Your hand flies to the back of your head and you realize it’s been bandaged up.

“Hey- take it easy.” Eyes flicking up you see Buggy standing up from a chair in the corner of your room.

Your room- back on Buggy’s ship.

“You really should lay back down.” He’s a few steps closer now and in the dimmed light of the room you can finally get a good look at him.

He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, he probably hasn’t shaved in a few days, and his normal face paint is missing. He’s down to just his vest and pants, normal bright accessories missing.

The memories of the ship sinking come rushing back to you and a panic sets into your chest. “Wait what happened- the ship- the crew-“

“Hey, hey, it’s alright calm down.” He sits down on the bed and takes one of your hands in his. “Alvida’s ship sank, but we managed to get everyone out and on here before she went down.”

Your breathing evens out and you relax a bit. “Good.”

“We were calling everyone to get on board here right when you had left to go grab supplies- you were missing so I came and got you.” He explains, putting the remaining pieces together for you.

“You-“

“Just wanted to make sure you woke up alright so now I-“ He drops your hand and stands up. “Will go.”

He gets to the door before your words stop him.

“You shouldn’t have done that. It was- you could have easily died. You can’t swim and you didn’t even-“ You screw your eyes shut, brain still putting itself back together from the hard hit.

“Captain’s duties.” He explains shortly, hand still on the doorknob and not looking at you.

“Yeah but, you’re not my captain. You made it painfully clear you did not want to be my captain.” You swing your feet off the bed, glaring holes into his back as weeks of repressed emotions come leaking out the broken and battered seams.

“It’s not like that-“ He says, forehead meeting the wood of your door.

“Then what is it like then? Because I’m just confused and hurt! I don’t understand!” Your hands fist in the sheets of your bed as tears well up in your eyes.

“Please don’t-“ He turns around and you see the hurt in his eyes. “Don’t cry.”

“Then tell me what I did wrong!” You shout, hot tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong.” He wrings his hands and looks down at the floor. “You’re too- you’re too good for me.”

The words ring in the dim space and confusion comes over your already frazzled mind. “What?”

“You- okay.” He takes a deep breath and shift from foot to foot. “You have this grand idea of who I am. You think I’m smart and caring and a good captain and that’s just not true. I’m not any of those things. I’m just a huge faker. I was never meant to be a captain- I just keep doing it because I have to.”

You look over his anxious form and finally see what he’s been hiding under all those flashy clothes and bright face paint. He was truly and painfully insecure.

You go to stand up, slipping off the bed to try and land on your feet but your vision blurs and you slip and you’re sure you’re going to crack your head on the floor again. But before you can land your being held, Buggy’s hands having quickly detached and grabbed you. The rest of his body runs over only seconds later, connecting his hands back and placing you delicately back on your bed.

You’re sitting up again, Buggy anxiously standing next to the bed as he looks over your body, checking to make sure you’re okay. This time you reach out, taking Buggy’s hand despite the fact you can see him wanting to run away again.

“Buggy, you’re really stupid sometimes.” You see his face shift into pure confusion and you elaborate. “I don’t think those things because of all the acts you put on- I think those things because that’s what I really think after spending so much time with you. I know who you are, don’t think I don’t.”

Buggy practically collapses, sitting next to you on the bed. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” You grip harder on his hand, pulling yourself closer to him.

“Because I don’t want to disappoint you.” He admits, his voice cracking under his emotions.

“You- all this time- Buggy, look at me.” You pull at his hand, urging him to follow your directive.

He does and you see all the emotions you’ve been feeling swirling in his eyes. “I care about you. And I don’t care if you think you’ll disappoint me! I just want you.”

You feel something break as you stare into each others eyes and in a flash he’s on you- lips pressing harshly against yours. He’s messy and harsh and frantic as he overwhelms you and you let him. Your freehand tangles in his hair and holds his head close. Neither of you break the kiss until you absolutely need to, pulling away gasping for air as spit still connects the two of you.

“Do you mean it?” He whispers, forehead pressed against yours.

“Did it feel like I meant it?” You grin, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t know… I might have to check again.” You see a smile creep back onto his face and you pull him in again.

He kisses you like a man starved, eagerly throwing himself into you. He nips at your lips, pulling playfully as he slides on top of you, your body sliding down into the bed in turn. You can’t tell if his hands are attached to his body or not as you feel them wandering your skin, pushing up under the hem of your shirt and grabbing onto your waist. You whine into his mouth and he pulls away quickly.

“Did I- sorry is this too fast we can-“ You shut him up by pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“I want more.” You say against his lips and he nods so furiously you think his head might fall off.

His lips trail down, kissing where your jaw and throat meet. As he does so you feel a deft hand undo the fastenings on your pants and sliding into them, plunging past the hem of your underwear and to your folds. Your hips buck up as his fingers ghost over you and you hear him chuckle.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You lightly hit his back, unable to stop smiling.

“I’m not, I’m not.” He claims, but you know otherwise. It’s hard to be mad at him though when his fingers pry open your folds and he sucks in a breath when he finally dips in. “Fuck you’re wet.”

“All for-“ You’re cut off by your own moan as two fingers press into you. “All for you.”

His motions still for a second before he’s biting into your neck as his fingers sink all the way into you. “Can’t just say that stuff. Fuck you don’t know what you do to me.”

You feel him grind up against your leg and that sends a thrill through you and you push further. “Missed you so much- thought about you every day-“

“My lovely star-“ He breathes into your skin, fingers pumping in and out of you.

“That- I missed that. Missed you calling me yours.” You admit through moans as his fingers stretched you out.

All of a sudden his fingers are pulling out and you whine as he sits up. In a flash hands are tugging your shirt up and off your body while he shimmies down your bed. Once your shirt is discarded he can pull down your pants, hands smoothing over your thighs. He takes a few moments to just look at you and your face heats up.

“See you still need to learn how to take a compliment.” He jokes as he lays back down, pushing apart your thighs so he can settle between them.

“This is not the same.” You try and argue, your hand drifting to his bright blue hair as he kisses up the inside of your thighs.

“Whatever you say.” You want to argue further but all coherent thoughts leave your brain when you feel his breath on your folds.

You feel his fingers spread you apart before he dives in, tongue eagerly lapping up your slick. Your hand fists in his hair as he pushes his tongue into you, the thick muscle a welcome sensation. When his tongue leaves you, you whine but it quickly dissolves into a moan as he wraps his lips around your clit.

“Fuck- Buggy- Just like that!” You buck your hips up into his mouth and you feel his fingers slip back into you.

He listens, repeating the motion and adding a third finger inside you. His other hand comes around to the back of your leg, hiking it up over his shoulder so he can have better access. His tongue swirls between your clit and thrusting in with his fingers. As your orgasm builds up you pull tighter at his hair in warning and you feel him groan into your folds. The vibration against your clit edges you ever closer so you pull again, not missing the way his hips jerk up against the bed as you do.

He sucks on your clit as his fingers curl inside you and the dam breaks, orgasm washing over you. Buggy slowly pulls his fingers out of you but you still feel his tongue on you, lapping up your slick as you come down.

You gently pull on his hair, urging him to come closer to you. He gets the message, sliding up your body until he’s face to face with you, his lips and chin glistening with your juices.

“Can I repay the favor?” You ask, your hands sliding down his body until he shakes his head.

“Baby- if I even see you on your knees in front of me I’m going to blow my load before I can get inside you.” His confession makes your skin run hot as you surge up to him, kissing him deeply.

“Then get inside me.” You say when you finally pull away, your own taste lingering in your mouth.

“Oh, who’s the captain now?” He grins as he slides off the bed to quickly take off his vest and pants.

You can’t help but stare at his cock, long and curved and you need it inside you now. He sees you staring at it’s the ego boost he needs as he crawls back in bed, slotting his hips between your thighs. His hand guides his tip to rub against your clit and you whine impatiently. He chuckles but lines himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing in.

“You’re so- warm- tight- fuck-“ Buggy thrusts into you despite himself, every inch of him inside you all at once and you practically scream his name.

“Can’t help myself baby you feel-“ His body covers yours as he mouths at your collarbone and throat and whatever skin he can find. “So much better than I thought.”

“You thought about me?” You manage out, breathless.

“Every damn day and night I-“ His thrusts are erratic but you can’t bring yourself to care when he’s still making you feel so good. “Sometimes, after you left our meetings I’d- I’d touch myself the second you left I couldn’t stop imagining you on my desk I- fuck-“

Knowing he thought about you like that did things to you and you drag your nails down his back and hook your legs around his waist, unable to verbalize through your moans. You can tell he’s close already, the throb of his cock and the way his filthy words are getting increasingly slurred. You’re close too, and you reach up and grab Buggy’s hand, urging it down to your sensitive bud. He takes the direction well, his thumb rubbing right circles that make you see stars.

“Where- I’m so close-“ He chokes out and as he goes to pull out you clench your legs tighter, trapping him inside you.

“Fill me up, please Buggy.” You whine and that’s it for him.

You feel hot ropes of cum fill you up as he groans into your neck. He manages to still work your clit so it’s only a few moments after him that you’re orgasming again, milking every drop of cum out of him. Breathless, he collapses on top of you, softening cock still in you.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him tight as though letting him go means he’d drift away from you again. He nuzzled into your neck and must sense that somethings up.

“‘m not gonna be that stupid again.” He says, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Not gonna let you go.”

“I’m your chronicler again?” You ask, voice weak with emotions.

“Until the end of time.” He promises, and you trust him completely.

[dancingdonatello]

hiiii! I read cherry and I love how it’s going so far. I do have a question, can you possibly write it to be raph x reader in a sense that when he first meets reader when draxum attacks he got all goo goo ga ga. So like he tries to see reader more and reader ends up falling for him instead. Like that part in the gala when he came and saved reader. Aaaaaaaaaaaa. Anyways thank you for your time! 💕

cherry! raph x reader

hi!!! this was sm fun 🥰 but also this won’t make sense without reading this :]

He had immediately complimented you, but how could he not? You were so cute, in your little uniform and your hair all done. Maybe it was weird, Big Mama’s son had seemed angry with him, but Raph just couldn’t help it.

Not to mention that you were so… nice. You held hands with Mikey, complimented Donnie, and looked up with him with less fear than a human normally would. Then what a human should. It was a nice different. The screaming from ladies and the threats from men when his hood had fell of at a market a week ago still haunted him.

You had chosen to work in the Nexus Hotel, among all these mutants that called themselves yokai. What other human would do that? You must be so strong, so fearless. His tail wagged and he glanced over to you, heart jumping near out of his chest when you caught him for the second time.

He stared at the pictures on the walls, willing his skin to cool down. Subtlety was never his skill, obviously.

He felt… not sad when Big Mama sent you away when he and his brothers finally got to her office. Being sad would be too much for just meeting you, but he definitely wanted to see more of you. He hoped to see you again. If things went good with Big Mama, he’d have an excuse to visit. Maybe for the lounge or the food… His stomach growled right as Big Mama picked up Donnie’s tech.

But things did not go good with Big Mama.

They were now beaten and tied up in a room, cramped together. Mikey whined and Donnie winced as Raph’s spikes dug into his shell. Raph sighed forlornly as he stared at the dark wall in front of him. Hopefully Splinter wouldn’t miss them too much.

The door cracked open, and he lit up at the sight of you—and Leo.

You two were here to save them, no doubt!

“Let’s sell them.” Oh.

Leo tugged Mikey up by his cuffs, grinning cruelly at the fearful look on his younger brother’s face. You looked semi unsure about all of this, nervously looking at him and Donnie. At least you weren’t totally onboard, right? You could be worse.

Raph only blinked just in time to see Draxum and Leo starting to fight. What a day. He was never coming back here, that’s for sure.

You kneeled down next to him and worked at his cuffs until they fall off. Never mind. He’d have to come visit you to thank you, of course. It would be rude not to. Maybe he could bring you flowers or a nice gift…

He didn’t see you again for a while after the Draxum–Big Mama fight.

Leo seemed like he hated Raph and his brothers and he did actually strangle Mikey, but he wasn’t sure where you stood in all that. You and Leo did seem pretty close on that rooftop… Ugh.

Raph moped around the lair so much that even Splinter noticed something was up. He couldn’t stand the thought of you, nice, innocent you, and that mean yokai being in a relationship. You deserved someone nicer.

He was only broken out of his mood when Donnie came home covered in butter weeks later. “I saw them today.” Donnie poked Raph with a metal claw, while using his real arms to wipe the butter off.

“Ya did?!” Raph lunged at him, grabbing him by the shoulders. Donnie easily slipped out of his grip and Raph grimaced at the feel on his hands. “Where?! You weren’t in the hotel, were you?”

“No. As if I would willingly step foot into a spider’s nest.” Raph’s phone pinged. “I put the address on your phone. Don’t be a creep.”

Despite his words, Raph ended up on a rooftop over looking the other building at midnight. Did you live here? Was it just a coincidence that you were here today when Donnie was?

He sighed and sat on the ledge, kicking his feet back and forth. He’d probably never see you again. He hoped Big Mama left you alone for the most part. Her henchmen were scary too… Did you need help?

He perked up when he saw someone the same size of you walking down the dark road. He scrambled down the side of the building and slowly lingered in the shadows as you fought with the door to try and get into the apartment complex.

“Do ya need help?” You jolted and turned to look at him, gaping wordlessly. “It’s, uh, just me.” He hesitantly stepped closer. You blinked at him a few times before finally finding your voice.

“Oh. Yeah. Please?” You stepped away and he hauled the door open. You stared at his arm for a moment and Raph sheepishly let go of the door.

“Sorry. I know I’m big.”

“Y-yeah.” Your voice cracked, eyes dilated and staring at him. You cleared your throat and looked away, tugging up the collar of your shirt. “Yeah. Thanks. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

An uncontrollable grin spread across his face and his tail rapidly moved behind him. You smiled, a small thing. “‘Course. Glad to help.”

“I’m guessing you’re here to look for that pig? He went down that alley, but me and Leo left before we saw him come back.” You closed the door behind you. No, he wasn’t here for a pig. He was here for you and now you were already gone. He sighed, smiling aimlessly up at the air. You were so…

Wait. A pig in New York City? A hulking mass of pink tackled into him from behind. Ugh.

He didn’t see you again for a while. He would come back to the apartment complex but he never saw you come by again. He saw an older woman and man who looked vaguely like you but never you.

He returned to his dull mood, rolling his eyes at the endless teasing from Mikey and Don.

He saw you very briefly at a parade in the streets where Draxum had let loose a sick mutant. His stomach rolled at the way Leo had grabbed and gripped your hand so hard that you winced. Why didn’t you ever say anything? He dragged you away and Raph had to stop himself from going after you.

His mood got even worse after that.

Splinter patted his head gently before waving three golden tickets in his face. “Why don’t you go to the Hidden City Carnival?”

Don protested but Mikey wanted to go. It was down to Raph, but his heart just wasn’t in it to go to a carnival.

“Think of the rides! The games! The prizes!” Mikey urged him, jumping onto his shell and getting close to his face. “Think of who might be there.” You. You could be there.

And you were.

Raph caught sight of you (after sniffing around for you like a wild animal that had Donnie and Mikey howling with laughter) when were shouting at Leo, tears forming in your eyes. Raph’s chest hurt at the sight of you. He left Mikey and Don’s side to follow after you once you stormed off, just to make sure you were okay. You wouldn’t mind seeing a familiar face in the crowd, would you?

But you seemed to have already known someone else there. A very large, very scary tiger yokai. Wow. You sure knew how to choose and pick your friends.

He was about to leave when he hesitated. You were moving weird. Stumbling, even when the tiger yokai grabbed a hold of you to steady you. Raph rushed in right as that tiger’s claws dug into your skin.

He grabbed you, holding you tight to avoid you falling with the yokai he had just shoved clear across the stands. People gasped out loud at the scene but Raph rushed away in between the stands and a broken down ride to look at you face.

He set you to the ground by your feet but you could barely stand on your own. “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt ya too bad, did he?” He looked down to the scratches on your arm but when he looked back at your face, he winced at the terrified look. “Sorry. I know ‘m big.”

His nose twitched at the disgusting smell of blood. Within seconds, his brothers were with him. Within a few more seconds, Leo was there, grabbing for your face. Raph gently pushed him away, watching as your eyes fluttered shut. What was happening to you?

“I can protect them,” Leo snarled at him angrily, reaching for you again.

“Clearly, ya can’t. Look at ‘em.” Raph hefted you up more into his arms, giving the other turtle a sympathetic look. “What happened?” He must know more than Raph.

“Drugged.” Donnie concluded, reaching out and poking your cheek. You turned to hide your face away in Raph’s plastron. “You did this?” He turned to Leo, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course not!” Leo hissed out.

“It was the tiger.” Raph looked around for the orange yokai but he was gone. “And he’s from the hotel, right? That’s how they knew him?”

Leo looked angry and then blank.

“You can’t… bring ‘em back.” Raph protectively held you closer. “Not after this. What else will happen to ‘em when you’re not around?”

“I was around!” Leo argued, eyes narrowing dangerously. “I was right there, they were just too stubborn to listen to me.”

“You can guarantee this won’t happen again?” Donnie pushed Leo back a few steps. “That someone won’t hurt them there?”

The yokai hesitated, eyes softening at the distressed look on your face, even unconscious. “…No.”

“Then let us take ‘em back to where they belong.” Leo stared up at Raph before he turned around and walked away, shoulders hunched up close to his neck. He looked devastated.

“Let’s go home.” Mikey jumped onto Raph’s back, looking down at you over his shoulder. “We gotta take care of them before they wake up… or put them in a hospital.”

“Hospital’s the best option by far.” Donnie walked beside Raph as he started to walk to the exit of the carnival. “I’m not quite sure on how to get them there with our appearances. We can go in with hoodies but then we’d look just as suspicious.”

…Your parents. Raph’s eyes lit up. “Raph knows what to do.”

Raph visited you every day he could. He couldn’t really visit you in the ER, but once you had been taken home, he had peeked in through every window he could until he spotted you. He scared a few old grandmas on the way to your floor, but it was with it.

He was a little nervous of your reaction. Would you want anything to do with yokais and mutants after being drugged and hurt by one? But when you saw his red mask in your window, your face had lit up. You had yanked the window open and tugged him into a hug… a really weird hug, considering he was scaling a building and trying not to fall off, but a hug nonetheless.

“Thank you so much…” You pulled away from him, eyes watering but full of gratitude. You leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I don’t know what he would’ve done to me if you weren’t there.”

Raph churred so loud that the window rattled noisily. “Of c-course,” he forced out, coughing. “I wouldn’t want anyone hurtin’ ya.” Your smile wobbled with emotion and you laughed weakly.

He couldn’t fit through your window, but you followed him all the way to an abandoned park, once you recovered, of course. You were okay, thanks to him. You weren’t wobbly anymore or weak. You were normal. Maybe a little brain damaged with how you giggled at all his jokes, even when they were admittedly not that good.

You’d look up with wide eyes too, especially when he lifted you off your feet without any struggle. You’d go limp in arms, all dopey and giggly. Raph adored you.

You cuddled into him when cold and he would wrap an arm around you and walk you home.

He hoped you could live a normal life now. Well, as normal as it could be when dating a giant turtle like him. But no more yokai or Big Mama around. Where you were relaxed and surrounded by people you loved. Focusing on your schoolwork and bringing him new coffee to try. Seeing his home in abandoned subway underground and meeting his rat father (who was Lou Jistu!—you had seemed pretty impressed with that one.)

He’d probably never meet your parents, but that was okay. As long as you were happy, he didn’t care.

[schluttforschlatt]

Bartender pt. 3

a/n: I’m gonna be honest, I’m not super happy with this chapter, but I tried to incorporate some of my original bullet point thoughts with the actual story. However, the more I write this, the more I’m leaning away from the original thoughts and I’m okay with that, but I feel like the first three chapters are more of a rushed introduction. Hopefully chapter 4 is able to wrap some of the loose ends up a bit better though!

WC: 5k holy shit

warnings: incident with a difficult customer, mention of readers chest, language, and alcohol, obviously.

The weeks following had been more or less the same for you. Wake up, get ready for the day, power through some homework, go to work, work, come home, feed yourself and the cats, get ready for bed. Damn routine. Very rarely did you adjust it. It worked for you.

Today, however, was a very different story. It started during your morning shift at the diner. You had been clocked in for an hour at most when a very pushy customer decided you were the sole person responsible for his eggs being too runny. You apologized to the man and offered to have his food remade, but that was simply just not good enough for him. So you called your manager over to help you, hoping that she could get through to him that you were not kitchen trained and that she’d be happy to remake the order and comp the meal. Once again, the man was not having it and demanded that the restaurant be shut down for “unsafe” food handling. This got your manager riled up. Sure every once in a blue moon someone would become irate over something with a simple and easy solution, but she was a tough cookie and handled every situation with grace. So when the man stood up and began yelling and waving his arms, she demanded he leave and not return. With a string of expletives, the man shoved his half eaten eggs and bacon off the table and at your manager.

It felt as if every pair of eyes in the building stared through you and at the scene unfolding. Before the unruly man could try anything physical, another customer approached and tried to break the man away from you and your manager. What a saint. He dragged the offender by the back of his collar before shoving him out of the diner doors, and stumbling face first into the small patio garden just outside. The stranger berated him, sprawled out on the floor, and angrily pointed his finger between the subject and the two of you still inside. A faint blush crept up your cheeks as sudden embarrassment washed over you and tingled began to spread through to your fingertips.

“Do you want make the call to PD, or would you like me to?” Your manger asked, breaking your little trance. You shifted uncomfortably and faced her, your expression begging her to be the one to call. She seemed to understand exactly what you couldn’t say, nodding and placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder before turning to the hostess booth to grab the store phone.

You felt somewhat helpless. Even if his words weren’t explicitly violent, something about the man’s demeanor screamed “threat” to you. You bent down to pick up the discarded plate and began to tidy the table. There was egg yolk splattered on the carpet but that would just have to be an issue for a later time. Collecting the plates and cups, you carried them to the back of house sink, rinsing them off before loading them into the dishwasher. You pressed “start” on the machine and sighed, straightening up and correcting your meek posture.

“They’ll be here in about fifteen minutes. Are you okay? Would you like to sit in the back for a few?” Your managers voice startled you, turning to face her again before gazing down at your shoes, shifting from foot to foot.

“Yeah, um, can I?” You really did feel pathetic in this moment. You’ve handled your fair share of rowdy people, both at your past jobs and randomly out in public. You silently thanked your experiences and training from previous bars before responding once again. “I just feel really shaky.” Your manager nodded and gestured toward her office, walking you over with slow steps. You plopped down in the chair and rested your head on her desk, arms coming over to cover your head.

“I’m going to wait for an officer to show up to trespass that man. Take all the time you need.” A comforting hand lightly squeezed your shoulder, letting you know that this moment was real and not just another nightmare.

You sat, using box breathing to will your heart to a normal pace. You hadn’t realized just how fast it was beating and how bad you were shaking until your breathing had returned to a steady pace. What the fuck was that even about? Why the fuck did he have to pop off at you like that? Anger was typically the first emotion you felt coming down from this kind of anxiety. I know it’s not my fault, but, God, why do grown adults choose to act like that in public? Acceptance would trickle in shortly after. I just want to go home and cuddle on the couch with the cats. Unsure of how long you’d been in your little world, your ears perked up when the clicking of a walkie-talkie and radio chatter faded in. You sat up and took a deep breath, willing yourself back up on your feet.

You made your way back out into the floor, feeling deflated in a way. Your manager was standing at the hostess booth with a female officer. The officer was taking down information about the incident to issue the tress pass to the man. Taking a few steps towards them, the officer turns to you and offers a sympathetic smile.

“He was originally taking it out on my server, throwing a plate of bacon and eggs at us once I demanded he leave.” Your manager reiterated. Somehow, this situation felt like your fault, even though you knew better than that. Sometimes people act out and direct their frustrations at strangers, and sometimes they take it out on the ones they’re essentially paying out checks for.

“Did he get physical with anyone at all, or was it just verbal and the throwing of the food?” The officer asked. Jameson her name plate read. Yeah, I’d love some of that right now.

The report was taken, the order was issued, and Officer Jameson bid you a better day before connecting with the man outside. Your hero.

Something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. You hadn’t seen his face, only his back and a slight profile. He’s probably been here before, was the only logical conclusion you could make.

“You can have the rest of the morning off, if you’d like. I’ll make sure you keep your pay for the whole shift.” Your manager offered, turning to face you. Your gaze lingered on the man outside for a moment longer before facing her.

“Yeah, um, I would. I appreciate that. I appreciate you stepping in.” Your words coming out solemn and slow. Your manager nodded. “Thank you.” You pulled out your phone to order an Uber before ordering some pancakes to take home with you. You waited in a booth by the register, tapping your phone screen whenever it darkened, staring at the screen and the arrival time getting closer. One of the cooks, Manuel, brought your order out to you, setting the bag on the table. He was a middle aged gentleman, but had been with the diner since it opened in the late eighties. In your eyes, this was his restaurant. He had taken the time to learn about every single employee, and his kindness was something you admired and appreciated. Though you had only worked at the diner part time for the past year, he had become like a father figure to you. It was a comfort you craved during this phase of your life, even if you only got to have brief conversations with him.

“Go home and relax, mija. You deserve some time to yourself. Don’t let one bad seed ruin the rest of your day.” You thanked him and flashed a sincere smile, earning one in return. Manuel patted your shoulder as he turned to walk back to the kitchen. Just then, your phone vibrated, alerting you of the arrival of your Uber.

Quickly gathering up your belongings, you thanked your manager once again as you pushed out the door. You made a beeline straight for the expected sedan, confirming with the driver that this was the correct car after opening the back door. You set your bag of food and purse on the seat next to you, sitting down and settling in for the ride. After buckling your seatbelt the driver took off.

You pulled out your phone to quickly shoot your manager a text, asking if she could comp his meal so you could pay the bill on your next shift. Gotta return the favor somehow. You tucked it back in your pocket and looked out the window, finally seeing the face of the stranger who “saved” you. Your jaw dropped.

You’d be damned to see that it was the man from the bar. The cute stranger you’d spent nights searching social media and dating apps for.

And as if fate wasn’t a cruel enough mistress, he looked over in your direction, locking eyes with you as the Uber sped out of the parking lot. Fuck.

Once arriving home, you texted your boss at the bar to let her know that you wouldn’t be coming in that night . She was understanding and kind enough to cover your shift.

You’d spent the rest of the day on your couch, eating pancakes, and cuddled up to your beloved kitties. For the first time in months you fell asleep early, exhausted from the stress that morning.

Your next shift at the bar was uneventful. Older folk clambered in to escape the harsh cold creeping in with the evening. You did sidework, adjusted some of the signage, and even re-decorated the community tip jars by the register. However, you were distracted. The whole night you spent anticipating that man to show up again.

If he had been in the diner and at the bar, then he had to live locally. He was dressed casually during both encounters, and you’d come to the conclusion that a tourist would be more dressed up, they’d be out and about trying to make the most of their trip. You had remembered the two other men he was with at the bar. They were more dressed up, so they would have to be visitors. Every time you closed your eyes, images of his face would flash, memories of each glance you took at him.

By the time eight o’ clock came around, you were released from the hazy establishment and embarking on your walk home.

After unlocking your door and throwing yourself down on the couch, you pulled out your phone and clicked on a group chat called “thots anonymous”, typing away a novel about the diner incident and the man that stepped in to help. Messages from your closest friends (three to be exact- all still living back home in California) began flooding in, reacting and replying to your message. Obviously they wanted the details: what his name was, what he looked like, and most importantly, how was it?

You ket out a guffaw, tapping away at your phone once again to tell them exactly what they wanted to know: you had no idea who this man was other than he was very tall, his name started with a “J” and he had very distinct facial hair and features, as well as “it” being absolutely nothing because you were not the type to hook up with someone, let alone someone whose name you didn’t even know.

The group chat began to blow up, texts arriving in all caps and being emphasized to catch your attention. You elaborated on his description, making sure to nail the important features. Sharp nose. Strong chin. Having to duck through the door due to his height. They kept asking questions, trying to do their own independent internet stalking. You expressed that you simply just wanted to get to know the guy. He was alluring and in the short barely-conversations you had with him, he was charming in a dorky-schoolboy way. C'mon, he stepped in to take care of the guy who threw his plate at you. How often does that even happen? That’s some Disney shit.

Regardless, you bid goodnight to your friends, got into bed, and let your thoughts race around your head until your breathing became slower and your body heavy.

Friday nights at the bar were your favorite. The number of patrons nearly tripled with the impending weekend. You got to be in your element and you thrived. And it all entertained you, too. You bore witness to many a breakup and hook up, drunk girls complimenting each other, and other salacious conversations. For the first time that week, you did not daydream about that damn mystery man.

Your lunch break was calling out to you like a siren in the sea, and when a break in the rush settled, you excused yourself to take it. Thank god there were two bartenders on Fridays.

Walking into the kitchen, you greet the two cooks, and grabbed a fry basket to load up with greasy fried potatoes and chicken strips. The cooks waved as you left the kitchen, and you thanked them in return. Normally, you would sit in a booth tucked away from the main floor of the bar, but seeing how busy it was tonight, you settled for sitting outside, craving the crisp, fresh air.

Your lunch passed quickly, and you practically inhaled your food. Not like it’s a healthy meal, but damn, was it filling. You scrolled through instagram and twitter for a bit before deciding it was too cold to continue sitting on the old wooden bench. The second you walked back into the bar, warmth enveloped you. Your ears tingled a bit as they readjusted to the temperature inside. You yawned, shaking your head to better reacquaint with your surroundings. You still had about eight minutes left until you were due to clock back in, but felt as if you’d had enough doomscrolling on the bench outside to whip your phone back out. Taking the fry basket to the dishroom to drop off, you settled on a favorite pastime: people watching.

The crowd was lively tonight, not too many old timers on Friday evenings, mostly college students looking for cheap beer or social environment. You sighed, glancing from corner to corner, wall to wall. A table that looked to be a bachelorette party, another of men in business casual, and a rather large mixed group singing “Happy Birthday”. And here you sat, minutes ticking away at your break from the rushes and forced conversations with strangers, trying to blend in amongst the scenery. In actuality, you stood out like a sore thumb: hair tied back, glasses pushed up your nose, only mascara for makeup. You looked nothing like those around you, and on a rough night those thoughts would creep and mingle in the back of your head. Tonight, however, you were glad to stick out like a sore thumb. You couldn’t have been more thankful.

And the reasoning? Just as you were standing up to clock back in, he strolled through the doors. Him. Oh my God, he’s back. Disbelief washed over you like a tidal wave, mouth slightly agape and shoulders tense. You punched your numbers into the time clock faster than you ever had, eager to throw your apron back on just to have a chance at talking to him again. Hopeful that your stranger would no longer be a stranger.

Like magnets, your eyes latched onto his, subconsciously pulling your feet forward until you were pressed up behind the bar he stood in front of. An incredulous look was shared between you two, open mouths a reflection of the interaction.

“You’re here!” The man whisper-yelled.

“You came back!” You blushed, sharing a nervous mutual laugh. He shook his head, a faint smile creeping across his lips. The moment you’ve been dreaming of finally in front of you, albeit, now feeling a tad bit embarrassed that a man you did not know the name of nor anything about would elicit such a reaction out of you. You could see your coworker give a confused look from your peripheral.

“Er- sorry! Welcome in!” You smiled, a timid chuckle escaping your lips as you focused your eyes down to your cuticles. Should probably clean those up later. The sound of him cleaning his throat brought your attention back to him.

“Uh, thanks! You too!” You watched as the gears turned in his head at his little oopsie. “I mean, thank you. You’re kinda working, so you have to be here. Well, I guess you don’t have to be here but- I’m rambling. Sorry.” Another meek laugh. You beam up at him. Was he this tall the last time? I mean, he was tall the first time but he seems… tall-er in this moment.

“What brings you to this lovely establishment tonight? Big night out? Drinks with the guys?” A teasing tone was evident in your voice. “Maybe a hot date?” You joked, causing the tips of his ears to rouge and gaze to falter.

“Not exactly,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Jus’ looking for a place to drink that’s not my living room couch. Routine gets kinda stale, y’know?” You nod to him, taking the moment of dropped eye contact to commit as many details as possible to memory. Freckles dusted across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. Facial hair that was a bit scraggly and unkempt. Wide shoulders and big hands. You nod again before speaking.

“Would you like me to run a tab?” It was his turn to nod, following up with a toothy grin.

“Yeah, that would be great.”

The night continued on, making casual conversation with the man (when asked what his name was, he replied “Schlatt”, but that you could call him Jay) as he downed a handful of whiskey sours. You tended to all of the other patrons, of course, but made sure to give Jay a little extra.

You asked surface level questions about his job, if he was going to school, his hobbies, but he was a bit ambiguous with his explanations. From what you could piece together, he did something with social media, however you didn’t want to press for information and be seen as nosey. The focus was shifted away from him and he began to ask questions about yourself. You moved from California to study biology, originally staying with a cousin who lived in Connecticut, but missed the hustle and bustle of city and suburbia, so you moved to New York. You liked the actual weather, but did miss sunny November days at the beach. Basic get-to-know-me shit.

“But do you ever plan on moving back? To California, I mean. Sounds like you’re a bit hesitant about the Big Apple,” Schlatt made an exaggerated hand motion, a bit sloppy due to the alcohol he’d been consuming. You let out a sigh and leaned on the bar with your forearms.

“I mean, I kinda miss my family out there, my friends. But I’d like to stay out here. I’m just worried that if I don’t find an actual reason to stay out here by the time I graduate, I’ll end up back in the Golden State, settling for less than I’ve dreamed of.” You wiped the counter, not looking up at the man. Perhaps it was a bit too much to expel to a practical stranger, but something about the conversation felt comfortable, familiar even. It didn’t feel like talking to a guest, or hell, a regular. Talking to Jay felt natural, like you were shooting the shit with someone known to you for years. Still, you felt the need to apologize before he could speak.

“I’m sorry, that was kinda a lot to just lay on you like that.” His hand coming into view made you look up. He wore a lopsided smile, and that, too, felt comfortable.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’m not too big on the small talk bullshit, anyway.” He picks up his glass, bringing it to his lips and downing the last of the amber liquor without as much as a grimace. “I know what you mean, the whole ‘finding something worth stickin’ ‘round for’ thing. You’ve gotta have passion to put up with the bullshit surrounding you and your goals.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” you teased, returning his smile and dropping the rag from your hand. “But you’re right. I’m just barely tolerating right now, and there’s a lot of bullshit I’m just starting to get used to. I suppose it comes with time and experience.”

You noticed a patron step up to the register to pay their tab, excusing yourself from Jay briefly. The customer held out his card for you to run as you punched the total into the register, scanning over the receipt once more to double check the bill was accurate. After verifying everything was correct, you hand him a printed copy of the receipt and a pen to sign his name. He signs the copy before sliding it back to you. You swipe his card then return it to him, thanking him for coming in. He slips out the door before you can finish your sentence. Your heart falters a little when you look down and see the words “nice rack” written where the tip should be. You slide the check in a lockbox under the register before returning to Jay.

“Bad tip?” You nodded, sighing once again.

“Just said ‘nice rack’, no tip”. He hums in response.

“That happen often?” You nodded.

“I’m used to the comments, but it’s disheartening when someone doesn’t leave a tip. But, hey, that’s food service for ya!” The sardonic tone of your voice makes Schlatt let out a soft chuckle while you shake your head. There’s a pregnant pause before you open your mouth again. “I think because they’re strangers it just rolls off my back. Like, if we were acquaintances outside of these walls it would affect me differently, but I’ll probably never see them again so it’s whatever.”

Schlatt’s expression displayed a sense of concern, but only if concern was peeking over a wooden fence. It was as if he wanted to say something to admonish the behavior without overstepping a boundary that had not yet been set. His fingers, previously resting flat on the counter, began to drum against the surface as he racked his brain for words of easement. His brows became slightly furrowed.

“You don’t have to say anything, it really doesn’t bother me much,” his eyes snap up to yours. “Besides, if I take the frustration home with me, I just take it out on GTA NPCs. Feels good to run ‘em over sometimes.” A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as the words spill out, and any awkwardness between you and Schlatt tapers off.

“You ever play DayZ?” He asks sincerely. You shake your head then brush a few strands of hair from your face.

“I’ve tried, but I don’t think I have the attention span for it. Gets tedious trying to build a decent base.”

“I could teach ya some tips and tricks sometime,” he blurts, his eyes opening wide and hand beginning to wave. “IF you’d want to learn, that is. Sorry, I’m not trying to force you to play some old, buggy zombie game with a random guy from the bar. It’s just a personal favorite of mine.” His eyes return to their typical soft gaze, with a fleck of adoration. It’s endearing, truly.

“I could be persuaded to give it another go, I suppose. Been a few years since I’ve logged on.” You shifted your weight from right to left, leaning just an itty bit closer to the man. “But how do I know that you’re not just trying to set me up for betrayal?” You could recognize your tone as somewhat flirty, and in a way you hoped he would pick up on it. His smile widened at your words causing you to subconsciously stare at his lips. They look soft. A little chapped, but soft nonetheless.

“You play on PC? Or are you one of those console only brats?” Oh. Oh was that flirty? You indulge him with a laugh which only stretches his smile. Taking a small step back from the bar you stretch your arms out. His eyes follow the movement.

“PC, obviously. To be honest, the only console I’m decent at is the Wii. Give me an Xbox controller and I’m fucked.” He laughed at this.

“What’s your setup like then?” His question caught you off guard. “Like, d’ya have a tower and one of those RGB keyboards, or d’ya have a shitty laptop shoved in the corner?”

The genuinity of his words was like a breath of fresh air. The conversation felt like you were chipping away from him being just another guy buying drinks from you to someone who carried friendship potential.

Reaching into your back pocket, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through the photos app for a recent picture of your room. Finding a good example, you zoom in a bit and show him the screen.

“It’s not much, and it’s not completely set up how I want it, but this is what I’m working with currently.” The photo you’re presenting is most accurate to what it looks like most of the time. Your tower sits on top of your desk, with a single monitor and typewriter style keyboard. Your Switch sits in its dock next to the monitor and the reflection of the Christmas lights around your room are visible on the dark screen.

He gently grabs the phone from your hand, which you allow, and zooms in a little more. His focus shifts from your setup to the grey cat tree just off to the side. He catches a glimpse of cat ears peeking out from one of the platforms.

“You have a cat?” The excitement in his voice sent a rush of warmth through your heart. Please don’t secretly be one of those “I hate cats” guys.

“Um, yeah. I have three, actually.” Before you could continue your sentence, he interjects.

“Can I see them?” Butterflies flooded your chest and you swore your pupils morphed into hearts. You nodded, taking the phone back from him and scrolling to a picture of the three of them. As you turn the phone back to him, he grabs it again, gently. He zooms in on the image and coos. Coos.

“Mellie, Bones, and Oats.” You pointed to the cats as you said their names. You swear you’ve never seen a man fold so fast over a picture of cats. His gleamed up at you and handed the device back then reached into his pocket to pull out his own phone. He unlocked it and began to scroll.

“I have two.” His words melted your heart. He turned his screen to you.

“The orange one is Jambo, and the other guy is…” he let out a soft chuckle. “Well, his name is a secret but people call him ‘Burnt Soup’.” You took the phone this time and zoomed in on their faces. The orange one was cuddled up to a black cat. You noticed his little fangs poking out from his lips.

“I love black and orange cats. Very Halloween-y.” You joked with the man. “They’re adorable, Jay.”

You couldn’t have known that those words, those simple words, would bring his house of cards crashing down. Schlatt prided himself on being a wallflower, much opposite to his online persona (not that you knew about that. Yet.), his cats being his pride and joy. They were like his children.

Thoughts began to race through his head. I should invite her over. I should ask them to grab coffee. No. That would be too cliché. Maybe going to the movies is a good start?

“Maybe we could catch a movie sometime?” He blurted out. The question caught you off guard, but it would be a lie to say that that didn’t excite you. Your eyes made contact once again and the pink flush spreading across your face elicited another wide smile from the man. "You could meet the cats, too, if ya want."

“Well, I do believe I could be persuaded, but how do I know that you’re not some kinda crazy axe murderer, hmm?” You jested, leaning over to bar to be eye level with Schlatt.

“Well, how do I know that you aren’t some sort of murderer yourself?” The expression he pulled made you nearly piss yourself with laughter. One of his eyes was twitching and the other just barely open.

“I think the whiskeys getting to you, you can barely keep your eyes open now.” This gained a laugh back from him. He raised his left hand to rub at his eyes while letting out a yawn.

“Okay, ya got me. Alcohol makes me sleepy these days. Once you turn twenty five it’s all downhill. My knees hurt, my back aches, and if I’m awake for more than a few hours, I need a nap,” he prattled on. “But by the look of it, you probably have a few years until ya gotta worry ‘bout that.” He said with a wink. And the blush on your face came right back. Think quick, be witty.

“Oh, I think I’m good for a while,” You got a bit closer to his face to whisper, “don’t tell anybody, but I’m secretly a vampire.” His face went blank for a moment before connecting the dots, which in turn caused him to erupt into laughter. He’s gotta be a tad bit drunk, that wasn’t very funny. But that laugh, it’s so… charming.

“Tell ya what, how ‘bout we go to the movies next Friday, you work then?” He asks and the butterflies are kicking at your chest and throat. You nod and he continues. “Here, gimme your number and I’ll plan it out. I hope you don’t flake on me, after all, I did totally save your life at the diner that day.” He held his phone out to you, opened to “add new contact”. You grabbed it and typed the fastest you probably had ever done in your life, checking that you inputted the number correctly. You typed your name, and decided to be cheeky by adding the lipstick print emoji next to it. Shooters gotta shoot. You handed him back the phone and he quickly typed a message to you, causing your phone to vibrate from its spot back in your pocket.

“I gotta head home, but don’t be a stranger. See ya later, doll.” He fished his wallet from his pocket and handed you a hundred dollar bill, stood up, waved goodbye, and walked out the door.

Still flustered, you walked over to the register to process the check, only to realize the remaining cash was about fourty-five dollars and some change. You pulled out your phone to ask if this was a mistake, only to see the ext he had sent you before leaving.

“Keep the change. You deserve it ;)”

Chapter 3 is here! The next chapter I do plan on actually being schlatt centric but I was having a hard time trying to make things make sense. Hope yall enjoy!!!

[the-universal-sun]

little lee being scared/having a phobia of the doctors? your stories are such a comfort to me and i have a doctors appointment tomorrow 🙁

Oh no! I hope your Doctor’s appointment goes well! I have one on Tuesday :/. Thank you for your request! I had fun writing it! I hope you enjoy reading it, though it’s less phobia than you might have wanted! TW: mention of needles, bloodwork, and medicine

As always, I’m open to helpful comments and feedback! But also just to talk if you need to! I hope every one has a good day!

-_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-

“Stanley Caryn Pines get out from under those covers right this instant.” Ford’s voice was stern, having tried to get Stan to leave to room for nearly half an hour now. His patience with his brother, usually so endless, was running thin. It was awful that they had to do this on a day when Stan was regressed-but then again, neither of them could control when his brother felt small or not.

“Mmmm-No! No Doctor-no!” Came a muffled shout from under the blanket, a figure huddled underneath it for protection and safety. Safety from the scary doctors and needles and icky icky medicine. Stanford was trying to make him see a doctor and let them steal his blood! He needs his blood, doesn’t his brother know that? How could he betray Stan like this?

“It’s just to make sure you’re fine before we go traversing the seas! I had to do it, so you do you! We don’t need either of us getting sick or running out of medicine when we’re weeks away from land, that’s dangerous. Life threatening even!” If Ford could change the day of this appointment he could, he knows Stan’s terrified of doctors, he always has been, but to see him to scared when little? Beyond his annoyance, it brings an ache to his chest. He hates being the one to do this, feeling like he’s betraying his brother to the highest degree again, but they have no choice. They’re leaving in a month and this was the only appointment they could get in for Stan. The next available slot is in February. How, Ford doesn’t know, Gravity Falls only has a population of around 1,000 people, give or take, and he seriously doubts all of them are seeing the Doctor every day. Then again, there’s only one Doctor, and while he was thorough, he was questionable in his bedside manner and execution of his physical. But, alas, this is the day of his brother’s appointment, and he will make Stan go.

Ford’s train of thought is cut off by the sound of a muffled whine-one promising tears if Stan isn’t consoled soon. He sigh, moving to sit beside his brother’s blanket clad body, resting his hand on his back and just patting softly, trying to think of some soothing words to ease his Little Lee’s mind. Because he still needs him to go to the appointment, but he’d rather not do it with the other man kicking and screaming. And crying, no doubt. After a few minutes of silence and some stolen glances at a clock in the corner, Ford finds the words to hopefully calm Stan down.

“Lee, I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you go, I hate to see you so scared, but I have to-“ another whine cuts in and Ford lowers his head until his brow is touching the back of his brothers head, “I know, I know. It was hard for me, too, after 30 years of taking care of myself. But I want us to be safe and healthy for our adventures on the Stan O’ War, and that includes bloodwork and medicine.” He sighs, changing his hand from patting his brother’s back to rubbing it, thinking through his next words. “How about this, Lee, you stay for 30 minutes, and not only can you get a whole roll of fun stickers, we can go get lunch at the reopened Greasy’s, is that a deal?” Ford hopes Stan takes this deal, he loves stickers and Greasy’s diner. While they have an abundant amount of stickers left over from Mabel, Greasy’s just opened yesterday after having been closed since Weirdmaggedon-it’s been a month and a half since Stan’s had food from his favorite diner, he’s been itching for it.

“Gweasy’s?” Stan popped his head out, voice muffled from chewing on his shirt, which Ford promptly pulls out from his mouth. Stan loves Greasy’s, and he’s been wanting it for so long, maybe 39 minutes isn’t so bad if he can get a treat. But stealing his blood, hmm….he’s still not sure, the needles are bound to be big and scary, and while Stan is a super brave boy, he doesn’t know if he’s brave enough for that. Stanford must have read his mind, because he offers another bribe-that’s what they are after all, Stan knows all about bribes-one that has him far more interested than stickers.

“And we can go to Portland for the USS Blueback Submarine tour.” And Stan’s in. He’s been wanting to see the Blueback for ever! For ages, even, but he’s never been able too-not enough free time or anybody to watch the Shack. Or anyone to watch him, knowing how the excitement might make him regress, and he can’t do that by himself when in public. That’s bad, bad, bad and seems very scary. But if Ford’s with him and it happens, he’ll be safe and Ford can show his scary dog face to anyone who’s mean to him! Stan scrambles out of his bed and races towards the door, he’s got to go now so they can hurry and see the submarine!

“Slow your roll, Lee. You need to get dressed and ready first, that means dentures in and dressed in pants and a shirt with your hair brushed.” Ford pulls him to a stop, making him stand still before going to his dresser for clothes. Oh, guess Stan forgot to get dressed today, he’s still in his icky and itchy big Adult pajamas. Which he quickly shucks off, holding his arms out for Ford to help him get dressed. His brother laughs when he turns and sees Stan like that, but when he whines and bounces, Sixer quickly gets to pulling the shirt over his head.

“Okay now. All dressed, dentures in?” Stan smiles widely, his new dentures shining, “Perfect! Let’s go!” It doesn’t really hit Stan until they’re walking to his car that he’s going to the Doctors office and he’s going to get poked and prodded at. He freezes, stiffening up and clutching his arms, his body beginning to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet. Are his brother’s bribes really worth it? What if the doctor is mean or-or the needles are huge and take all his blood? Can he really do it? He wishes he could bring-A touch to his shoulder startled Stan out of his thoughts, Stanford looking at Stan with the most gentle look he’s ever seen. Well, if he’s here with Stan, maybe he could do this.

Stanley gasps as Ford presses Shanklin 2 into his hands, clutching the stuffed toy tightly as Ford leads him into the back seat and buckles him in. “I figured your friend would get much too scared waiting here for you, Lee, so he’s coming with us so you can teach him to be brave. Can you do that, Lee?” It’s a low blow almost, but by the way Stan resolutely nods and puts on his best brave face, Ford knew it had worked. For now at least, they’ll see how it goes when he gets blood drawn-he did request a butterfly needle for Stan, so hopefully he’s not as scared when he sees it’s not the thick needles they had as children. “I’m going to be right there with you, too, Lee. I won’t be going anywhere. I might need you to hold my hand if I get scared. If that’s alright with you?” He laughs at his brother’s stern nodding. That’s Stan for you, always willing to be a rock for his brother, his own feelings aside.

Ford buckled himself in, adjusting the mirror before turning on the radio, some old blues music softly playing from it as he slowly backs out onto the paved road. Internally he hopes, glancing back at Stan softly bobbing his head and rubbing Shanklin 2’s tail, that Stan forgets about the Greasy’s promise; the food there gives him such a stomach ache.

Stan does not forget about Greasy’s

[mxtantrights]

cause you're sweet like a flower in bloom

pairing: Johnny Storm x fem!reader a/n: feeling inspired and also my crush on Johnny Storm has been relit (ha) so I've decided to write while it's good! this is a continuation after the first part, but can be read as a standalone. reader has the nickname specs and is female.

When you first met Johnny, you didn't see past the persona he puts on. The good looking guy who treats the whole world like his bachelor pad? It didn't help that he also openly flirted with you.

You remember that night clearly. Sue had invited you to a get-together at her and Reed's place. She originally wanted a more cozy dinner with just you, Reed, Ben, and Johnny. But you had told her that it made you nervous to be the only one of your coworkers that got to dine with her and her family.

So she pivoted. Made sure you didn't feel nervous. And you thanked her for it endlessly.

"What are you thinkin' about?" Johnny asks.

It pulls you out of your thoughts. In front of you is the view of the city. You two had both boarded the ferry in hopes of not going home just yet. You, beach you didn't want to think about work, and Johnny for another reason. A reason unbeknownst to you.

You look over at him. Taking him in for a few moments. His hair, his eyes. This guy is the full package and can get anyone he wants, so why the hell is he so bothered trying to hang out with you?

You crack a smile, "I'm thinking about the first time we met."

He shakes his head and looks away from you. You don't miss how the tips of his ears turn pink. Or how he starts interlacing his fingers together. Your eyebrow quirks up as you look away from him, back out to the water.

"Ya know I thought you had a boyfriend." he says.

That makes you cackle. You look back at him and find him looking at you already. With a hand over your mouth you look at him in disbelief.

"You were flirting with me so hard, and you thought I was taken?" you ask.

He shrugs his shoulders, "I mean, okay when you put it like that it makes it seems like I'm a would-be homewrecker."

You hum to yourself. He nudges your shoulder with his as he laughs.

"There were so many people you could've flirted with. Probably would've been in a relationship right now." you joke.

You don't mean it. Not that you don't think he could be in a relationship. Johnny is very much the type, even though he doesn't show it. But the subject is more complicated than a quick little joke and his whole playboy appearance.

"I'm taking my chances with you." he jokes back.

You snort, your eyes falling shut, and you hit him over his shoulder. As you laugh you lean you head back. Before you can hit the back of the headrest, you feel his hand come out and block it. He doesn't move it.

"I'm glad we hung out. I'm feeling less stressed." you admit.

"And I'm glad you don't consider this a date, because this is not my best." he says.

Your eyes go wide as you open them, "Johnny!"

In between the breeze that carries from the water, you realize how close you are to him. Even though the both of you are in separate seats your body are practically meeting in the middle. All you would have to do is lean over an inch or two more and you'd be touching him.

"When we go out on our first date, it's gonna be great. Might even sweep you off your feet." he vaguely explains.

A first date with Jonny Storm. If you had been told this a couple of months ago you would have laughed. Maybe you would have denied it ever happening too. But now, you like the idea of it.

"Your sister is my boss and mentor." you say.

Johnny shakes his head, "You're gonna work yourself into a tizzy, specs. I haven't taken you out yet."

"Yet." you repeat.

"That's right. I'm still planning. And hopefully you'll let me ask you and you won't avoid me again." he prods.

You smile softly. Avoiding Johnny was a hard task in itself. But now, knowing that he's going to ask you out one of these days? It'll be like pushing a boulder up a hill.

All your common sense tells you that it's unlikely the boulder will ever reach the top. Who were you to fight with the known laws of science?

[astra-galaxie]

Taking a Break

Hi everyone.

As you’ve probably guessed from the title, I am taking a break from the Criminal Case fandom. I’ll be gone for at least 2 weeks, maybe more if needed. While I’m gone, I will not be on any sites, at least not for CC-related reasons, updating any of my stories or posting new content on Tumblr. That means I won’t be checking notifications or even going on some platforms, and I will be leaving all the Discord servers I am in after posting this.

If you need to reach me (please don’t contact me about CC), I will occasionally check my direct messages on Discord.

2024 has so far been the worst year for my mental health, and to summarize how I feel in one sentence: I’m tired, and honestly, I have considered leaving CC more than once. I tried not to let my mental health affect my relationship with CC since it was like the light at the end of the tunnel for me. But with things calming down IRL, I’ve realized how straining CC was on my mental health and a person can only bend so much before they break, and I fear I will break if I do not step away…

I have been in the CC fandom for over 10 years, most of that time spent as a lurker and then as a writer who stayed in a little bubble isolated with my stories and rarely engaging with others. But over time, I came out of my bubble with the help of friends I made through CC and gained even more along the way. However, things have happened recently behind the scenes that are making me consider leaving the fandom, so it's time I take a break and focus on other things for a little while.

This is not goodbye forever. If you know me and my stories, you know my goal is to write every Criminal Case season from 1 to 8 (yes, I will be writing and hopefully improving City of Romance!). I’ve been at it for about 8 years, so I’m too far into things to give up!

But I have another goal, and no, I’m not referring to making headcanons for every CC character. It's to create a safe space for people to share their ideas, thoughts, and opinions without fearing ridicule. There is enough hate in the world, so why should I contribute to it when I can use my platform to be positive instead? It’s why, even when the idea might not be my cup of tea, or I might not understand parts of it, I still encourage people to pursue their ideas and focus on the good things. I hope people know that you can send me the craziest, crack-filled ideas (anonymously or not) and that I will do my best to give positive feedback.

I do give constructive feedback if people ask me to, but again, I’m no Goddess of Writing and Content Creation, so I would never expect people to take my words as gospel. I would never want people to feel they HAVE to change something in their creation just because I suggested it. I want people to be happy with THEIR work, just as I am with mine.

The biggest piece of advice I always give people when they ask for my help or opinion on their project(s) is to write about what makes you happy. While it is important to listen to feedback to learn what you can improve on, ultimately, YOU are the creator. YOU are putting in the time, effort and skills into the project, and if YOU are not happy with what you are creating, then you will lose interest in it. Create things you are happy and proud of. YOU are bringing your ideas to life and sharing them for others to enjoy, not the other way around.

You can never please everyone, but you can always please yourself.

But do NOT use that as an excuse to spam, rage bait, or terrorize others. Everyone is entitled to their likes and dislikes, but you should not force your opinions on others. If you see something you don’t like, just ignore/block it and keep scrolling. It takes much less time than writing a hate comment or making a call-out post. And while sometimes those are reasonably warranted, please still take the time to consider the repercussions of something before you post it and ask yourself: Is it really worth it?

If you’ve stuck with me this long, thank you for listening to my rambling.

Maybe it's naive or wishful thinking to hope people have learned from 2024 and will think before they post, but I hope at least some people will learn from their mistakes or those of others. I know I have learned from the mistakes I’ve made. I don’t think I’m perfect or anyone special because, at the end of the day, I’m just a writer who discovered a hobby for creating fanfiction when they were a teen and somehow gained a following of amazing fans and made fantastic friends along the way. I’m human and make mistakes, but it's from those mistakes that we grow and improve as people.

That said, I am signing off for now. My mental health is at rock bottom, and all I can focus on recently is negative. I keep thinking the worst of my writing and other content. All my mind has been telling me is that everything I make is terrible, and no one likes it. And while I know that is far from the truth, thanks to the amazing support and love I receive from all of you (shout out to everyone who keeps the CC fandom alive!) I must leave and stop focusing on everything before returning with a clear, more positive mindset.

I will see you all when I return. Will I not do anything CC related? Probably not, since you can take Astra out of CC, but you can't take CC out of Astra! But I will not be touching or even looking at my mainstream series while I’m gone, so don’t expect me to return with an update ready for it.

Thank you for listening.

Astra G.

[makethatelevenrings]

well since you've got me thinkin' of the bats again,

what do you think their Oh Shit moment would be? Like that single moment where they realise This Is It? Cuz I can't stop thinking about it. Like imagine just sitting in the living room with Jason on a lazy day and you turn and he's kinda just staring at you with this lovesick look and you ask whats up and he just shakes his head and looks away smiling like an idiot cuz ah shit, this is the life he wants.

Or or or you're out grocery shopping or smth with Bruce and it kinda hits him somewhere through the point of entering the store and picking up 5 different cereal boxes that he genuinely wants this forever and ever

and ahhhhh like this could go so angsty but also so sweet?

ANYWAY I REALLY LIKE YOUR WRITING IT MAKES ME HAPPY

<3

Ok ok I thought about this the entire drive home!!!!

Bruce - the two of you are visiting an orphanage that’s Wayne Enterprises is interested in funding (in reality, he’s investigating them for embezzling funds and child abuse). You came as Wayne’s dazzling arm piece to draw more press, but he knew you were much more than tabloid fodder. You couldn’t care less about listening to the director drone on and on about how much he was doing (read: not doing) and when a small hand tugs on the hem of your pants, you immediately kneel on the dirt stained floor and give the child your full, undivided attention. You nod along, ask questions, and make the child feel as though they’re special. You show them that someone cares. Bruce watches this with his heart pounding in his chest. He remembers a time when a young orphan was ignored by the world unless they were able to manipulate him and use him for their own agenda, to make themselves look good. He realizes with a jolt that you see him. You see the orphan boy in the alley, the broken man in the cape, and the actor in his suit. You see all of him and you give him your whole attention. Oh.

Dick - For you, it’s just an offhanded comment made as the two of you walk through the crowded streets of Bludhaven. “There’s a halal market on the next street. Can we stop and grab Damian some gulab jamun and namoura? He’s been stressing over his grades recently and I know it’s not much, but hopefully it’ll cheer him up.” A bolt of warmth strikes through his chest as he realizes that you’ve memorized Damian’s favorite desserts. You researched halal foods and the local markets. You checked in on Damian, listened to his frustrations, and read his tells better than anyone. He recalls how you’ve made these passing remarks about all of his siblings. How long have you taken care of them in this subtle, gentle way of yours? He laces his fingers with yours, lays a kiss to your temple, and lets you lead the way to the market.

Jason - The sun that slips through the linen curtains Alfred hung up one day bathes Jason in a delicate glow. He reclines on the couch, your head on his chest and legs tangled together, with a book in his hand. You’re half asleep but he whispers the words he reads regardless. How long has it been since he felt this relaxed? Your soft breaths release in little puffs that tickle the skin of his wrist, but he refuses to move. He doesn’t want to wake you up. He wants to lay in this position for the rest of his life. He wants to be with you for the rest of time, until the scythe of death comes calling for him once more, and he places himself between you and the Grim Reaper.